Chapter 11 Fear
(Back to Eira's POV)
She had found Jaskier's lute still in the bag of his horse and Eira remembered him telling her once that the instrument couldn't stand the cold. The bridge would bow and the strings wouldn't sound right anymore. It would cost him coin to let it get fixed.
Eira found it weird the bard had forgotten his beloved lute, but grabbed it to bring it to him. She wouldn't want him to lose his lute, not like this. She went to the local pub, the only one in the small village, thinking that was the only place he could be.
And he was.
Eira had entered the warm pub, the hearth in the farthest corner warming up her skin in an instant. She hated being warm, much more prefered the cold but when her gaze travelled up the stairs, she saw a beautiful woman walking up. Followed by a grinning Jaskier.
The pain in her stomach returned, but this time much worse than ever before and Eira tightened her grip around the lute. He must have heard her, or maybe seen her, because Jaskier turned his head to face her when he arrived at the top of the stairs. Not following the woman in to the room she disappeared in.
And Eira felt stupid.
With a quick turn, she handed the lute to the bartender, telling him to give it to the bard who was upstairs when he was done with whatever he was doing and left the warm Pub.
She was already on her way to Geralt, a thousand chaotic thoughts in her head, when Eira heard his voice.
She hesitated to go back to face him. But something tugged on her. Something Eira wasn't known with and the image of Jaskier following that woman upstairs, clearly checking her out, made her heart ache. She stood still in one of the small streets, in the dark, conflicted when Eira heard him call her name again.
Eira had missed his company. And whatever this pain in her stomach was, it felt unbearable to her in this moment. So much so that she felt tears stinging behind her eyes.
"I'm here," she muttered while revealing herself by coming out of the dark alley.
Jaskier turned to face her, relief all over his face and shook his head.
"Eira, I need to know," he said. "I need to know what's wrong. You're ignoring me since some time now. What did I do wrong?"
She shook her head while he came closer.
"You didn't do anything wrong," she started and took a deep breath when Jaskier took his hand in hers. "You...you never do something wrong," she laughed curtly, staring at their entwined hands and fingers.
The shiver that went through her felt electric where Jaskier touched her.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted, gaze still down at her hands. "I feel ill. I feel … I don't know what I feel."
Only then Eira dared to lock eyes with him. Jaskier looked down at her, eyes soft and gentle when he nodded.
"I miss you," she blurted out before the bard could speak up. "I miss you, so much. Your lute, it can't handle the cold so I wanted to bring it to you. Then I saw you with that woman going upstairs. I felt a pain in my stomach, so hard, I …," she stopped talking suddenly.
Jaskier did something so unexpected to Eira that she took a step away from him. His lips touched hers, gentle and slow, with his eyes closed. Her eyes widened and Eira took the step away from him. But she regretted that she did.
Her throat dry and the bard just waited while he looked at her, not sure what she was going to do or react.
Eira bit her bottom lip and swiftly took a step forward to him again. Closing the distance and standing a bit on her toes so her lips could touch his.
The kiss was sweet and slow while Jaskier pulled her close against her. His lips exploring hers and Eira felt his warmth when her hands circled around the back of his neck. She had her eyes closed, just like him and the magic inside her hummed happily.
She hated warmth, yet his felt comfortable.
When Jaskier pulled back, Eira opened her eyes to look up at him. The smile on his face made him beautiful and it felt like her heart sung inside her chest. The pain gone, soothed by his touch and Jaskier pressed a kiss on her forehead.
"I don't know how to do this," Eira murmured and the bard pulled her close against him again.
"I'm not exactly a professional, either," he laughed, the sound warm against her body. "We'll figure it out."
Eira nodded and bit her lip.
"I'm … scared," Eira admitted. All of this was foreign for her.
"Fear is normal, Eira," Jaskier assured her.
"You're leaving," she remembered, the sadness coloured her voice.
"I have to," Jaskier said, still holding her into an embrace. Her head rested against his chest, and Eira felt the soft thudding of his heart. "I already agreed."
She nodded silently, insecurity played up in her minds. What if he forgot about her?
Jaskier must have felt the shift, the way her arms came a bit tighter around his torso or how her breath suddenly seemed to hitch. He gently pushed her a bit of him so Eira could face him.
"I'll come back," he grinned. "I promise. I mean, Geralt would miss me so hard that he won't be fun to be around."
The laugh that escaped her was loud and sincere.
"Sure," she replied and nodded.
"As long as you come back," Eira said softly and his fingers played in her hair.
"Next time, if you ever feel uncomfortable or ill, or anything, talk to me," Jaskier told her, his face serious while he admired how her hair fell on her shoulders. It was so soft that he could play with it forever.
Eira nodded once as a reply before she pulled him a bit towards her. Their lips touched again, meeting each other for a kiss, soft and passionate while Jaskier pulled her against him again.
They parted ways for the night, Eira would lie somewhere enjoying the cold and the starry sky while Jaskier bumped into Geralt on his way to find himself a room. A room alone, for that matter. All the time with a large grin on his face.
"Bard," Geralt's voice reached his ears and Jaskier turned to face the witcher. "I don't have to tell you that if you ever hurt her, I'll rip your throat out? That would ease the pain on my ears of your singing voice."
Jaskier looked at him and shook his head nervously.
"Nah, don't worry about it," he mumbled and saw Geralt straighten himself up.
"I mean it, Jaskier," and the Bard looked at Geralt again.
The Witcher's features were serious and Jaskier licked his lips.
"I won't," the Bard said again and saw Geralt nod in the dark.
"Good," the witcher grunted.
"You care about her, don't you? I thought Witcher's had no emotions," Jaskier said and crossed his arms before his chest because of the night cold.
"We do," Geralt said matter of factly, "we just like to shut them off. Makes us think straight without distractions."
"You didn't answer my question," Jaskier pointed out.
Geralt locked eyes with the bard.
"None of your fucking business, Bard," he said before leaving Jaskier on his own.