The waves were loud. Geralt watched Jaskier scramble to and fro and forced his pupils wider so that he could see in the dim black. It didn't help his headache and his hissed his displeasure; there seemed to be a gentle humming at his sides of his head-- he laid back down and pulled the sheet up. "Go back to sleep, Jaskier." The waves lapped at the shore. He closed his eyes. "No one is battering down the door and nothing is on fire. Go back to sleep."

If he slept he could sleep off the hangover and that was far more preferable to whatever mad-capped caper Jaskier was sewing. Geralt pushed his face down into the pillow and drew a slow, deep breath. Within seconds, really, he was already in that grey space just before sleep-- it was so easy to get back to.