Jaskier could not have been happier--well, that wasn't entirely true. He would have been far happier if they had been able to gather up the horses and ride out of Cidaris the very moment Geralt awoke from his trance. Unfortunately, waking the Witcher had required Jaskier to drop a mountain of iron and crystal on him. The cost of that desperate little maneuver was two-fold: Geralt was injured and covered in buts of broken glass, and he was in enough discomfort that he was surlier than usual.
Which, frankly, Jaskier felt was fair. He would have been a sight if someone had attempted that on him. He could hardly imagine the hell he would have raised.
So, the end result of the night's truly trying series of events was that Geralt had to put up with Jaskier extracting glass from him and trying to tend to his injuries, and both of them were stuck in their spacious, awful room until at least dawn. (At least Jaskier had torn down that stupid windchime the moment they returned. He couldn't stay the surf but they didn't have to tolerate those clattering wooden chimes.)
(Also they were terrible magical wards, or something, so tearing them down was a good idea.)
The one redeeming feature that this room included was a large, copper bathtub. They hadn't had call to use it before but, considering how they were both half soaked in whiskey and a fine layer of Geralt's blood, it seemed prudent to try it then.
Jaskier helped pick out the largest bits of crystal (and a few of that broken decanter) and then fetched a few of his own beauty supplies for the smaller bits. Geralt probably had something similar to the sticky waxy paste he applied over the scattered field of wounds, but he didnt bother asking. When it dried it would tighten up and stick to the smallest shards. (He tried to avoid areas with dense hair but that was a hurdle they would jump when they came to it.)
Once the Witcher was settled and waiting for that paste to dry, Jaskier went to fetch water. It was surprising how much easier it was to navigate when not being pursued by a bewitched Witcher hellbent on extracting a pound of flesh from him. It didnt take him long at all to find the servants' stairs or the pump, or the fireplace still smoldering after the night of revelry. By the time he returned, why, the salve on Geralt's hands and chest might not even have finished drying.
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Which, frankly, Jaskier felt was fair. He would have been a sight if someone had attempted that on him. He could hardly imagine the hell he would have raised.
So, the end result of the night's truly trying series of events was that Geralt had to put up with Jaskier extracting glass from him and trying to tend to his injuries, and both of them were stuck in their spacious, awful room until at least dawn. (At least Jaskier had torn down that stupid windchime the moment they returned. He couldn't stay the surf but they didn't have to tolerate those clattering wooden chimes.)
(Also they were terrible magical wards, or something, so tearing them down was a good idea.)
The one redeeming feature that this room included was a large, copper bathtub. They hadn't had call to use it before but, considering how they were both half soaked in whiskey and a fine layer of Geralt's blood, it seemed prudent to try it then.
Jaskier helped pick out the largest bits of crystal (and a few of that broken decanter) and then fetched a few of his own beauty supplies for the smaller bits. Geralt probably had something similar to the sticky waxy paste he applied over the scattered field of wounds, but he didnt bother asking. When it dried it would tighten up and stick to the smallest shards. (He tried to avoid areas with dense hair but that was a hurdle they would jump when they came to it.)
Once the Witcher was settled and waiting for that paste to dry, Jaskier went to fetch water. It was surprising how much easier it was to navigate when not being pursued by a bewitched Witcher hellbent on extracting a pound of flesh from him. It didnt take him long at all to find the servants' stairs or the pump, or the fireplace still smoldering after the night of revelry. By the time he returned, why, the salve on Geralt's hands and chest might not even have finished drying.