Chapter Text
For sharinalein:
Jaskier has never seen Geralt this drunk. Whatever the fuck Lambert laced the White Gull with, it’s terrifyingly potent. Eskel is already asleep, slumped over the table; Lambert is singing an incredibly bawdy song, off-key and much too loud; but Geralt is staring at Jaskier with tears streaming down his face, and it’s very worrisome.
“Geralt, what’s the matter?” Jaskier asks desperately, cupping his witcher’s face in his hands. “It’s alright, everything is alright. I’m with you, always.”
“It isn’t,” Geralt sobs, and grabs Jaskier in an incredibly tight hug, burying his face against Jaskier’s shoulder. “You’re going to leave me.”
Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt and rubs his back gently. “Never, dear heart. Not for a mountain of gold and the promise of the world’s acclaim.”
“You will,” Geralt whispers, almost too quietly for Jaskier to hear. “You’ll get old and die and I’ll lose you.”
“Ah,” Jaskier says, blinking at the far wall for a moment in bafflement. He’d thought Geralt knew. The man’s a monster hunter for gods’ sake. “I won’t,” he says quietly, wondering if Geralt’s even going to remember this in the morning. “Geralt, I won’t grow old and die on you.” He nudges Geralt’s head up so he can meet those lovely golden eyes. “You’re my treasure,” he says, willing Geralt to understand. “I will never leave you.”