Siren's Call

A Rude Awakening

           Jaskier turns and runs, feet digging desperately for traction in the slippery sand. Geralt barely notices the wounds in his leg and side as he gives chase, silver sword shining in his hand. Jaskier is surprisingly fast, no doubt used to fleeing at the drop of a hat when things get rough with an angry paramour or monster. He would probably have lost a normal man in the shifting dunes, or managed to escape to the nearby forest to hide. Geralt is no normal man. Even if his mutations hadn't given him night vision he could have easily tracked Jaskier by the strong perfume he wore, or the pounding of his frantically beating heart. As he chases the fleeing man, he contemplates calling out to him, but figures Jaskier is too far gone to terror for that to work. Anyway, he can't waste the breath. Witcher or no, his wounds are beginning to tell on him. Jaskier is nearing the edge of the desert, and Geralt knows if he disappears into the woods he might not be able to find him again. Or, considering what those woods are populated by, he would probably find his bones. Geralt puts on a desperate burst of speed, lunging forwards to tackle Jaskier to the ground.

Approximately 17 hours earlier:

Geralt glanced over at Jaskier. If he didn't know better, he would have said the man was in some kind of coma, hungover, or unconscious. Since he'd had to rouse Jaskier from sleep every goddamn morning since he'd started travelling with him, he did know better. Geralt seriously doubted if Jaskier would wake up even if they were attacked by bandits. Actually, he knew Jaskier wouldn't wake up if they were attacked by bandits while he slept. It had happened. Twice. Both times he'd been more irritated that he hadn't been awake to see the action than grateful to Geralt for fighting bandits off his prone body.

Geralt sheathed the sword he'd been sharpening, stood up, and stretched his muscles. He walked unhurriedly over to Jaskier, and took a moment to ponder the elegant picture of innocence that was Jaskier asleep. He looked very young and vulnerable and somehow not quite human, like some kind of fae that had decided to bed down by his campfire. Geralt squatted down, positioned his mouth so that it was almost brushing Jaskier's ear, and took a deep breath.

"JASKIER! WAKE UP!"

Jaskier screamed and bolted upright, swinging his lute in a surprisingly good defensive reflex that Geralt blocked without much problem.

"GaHAAH What the HELL Geralt! Is it fucking bandits AGAIN?!" Jaskier scrambled to some semblance of a seated position, still clutching his lute in front of him protectively and glancing around wildly.

Geralt unperturbably sat back on his haunches, expression implacable. "Do you see any bandits?"

Jaskier spluttered. "Uh, no....why did you wake me? What's going on?"

"It's time to get going. We need to make good time if we want to reach Didith before nightfall." Geralt turned and started walking back towards Roach, letting his mouth twitch in what was to him a roaring laugh as he could almost hear the cogs turning in Jaskier's mind.

"You....you SCREAMED in my EAR because you wanted to LEAVE EARLY?" Geralt glanced back at him, expression once more completely blank.

"Yes."

Jaskier's mouth moved soundlessly before he apparently decided on the best way to express his outrage. "What a BARBARIC....Geralt you could have just VERY GENTLY called me to wakefulness, but you chose to DEAFEN ME instead. Do you know what they call a deaf bard? They don't call him a bard that's for sure."

Geralt sighed. His few minutes of amusement were apparently going to come at a very dear price.

Jaskier prattled on indignantly as they moved on, even going so far as to compose a three piece ditty about the rudeness of waking someone by shrieking in their ear. Geralt was almost grateful when they arrived at Didith. At least it would give him some relative peace, since the bard often got distracted by some pretty thing or person and went wandering off. Didith wasn't a city, but it was a fairly prosperous town, and Jaskier should be able to find plenty of things to amuse himself with. In the same vein, he should be able to find at least one person with some kind of monstrous problem, especially because Didith was dangerously close to the Landa desert. And deserts were fairly reliable for sending inconvenient monsters the way of people with money.