Common

Another layer revealed itself in the brief distress his words awakened, and then the indecipherable string of other emotions that followed. She was different from his Enya— a creature commanded by her heart, but one who hesitated to share its contents. And in that way, she was different from Jaskier too. The golden stallion tended to wear his emotions openly and shamelessly, even where they were a weakness. But his losses and trials had also taught him how to let go in ways that others could not. In other words— he might not be strong, but he was resilient. He could weather any storm and stand up again when it was through, even if he’d brought the pouding rains and howling winds upon himself. Hell, especially then. As our boy already mentioned, he was used to screwing things up.

It was being forgiven so easily that felt strange.

I am known as Anne. Jaskier heard the apology in the softness of his companion’s voice; the riddle of it tilted his head to one side. She’d done nothing at all that needed absolution— and even if she had, she needed understanding, not forgiveness. The pintaloosa’s struggles were clear in every line of her body, in every word that she’d spoken. And when you were that hopeless, that hollow... well, he knew how hard it was. There were still days that he hurt so much over the loss of his sister and soul-brother that it was tempting to try and push even a tiny bit of that pain off on someone else. To seek any relief, any escape— even if that meant increasing someone else’s misery.

But she hadn’t; he was fine. No, better than fine when she spoke again, halting the steady creep of his eyes across the lightening sky. I think I would like to be stronger...with you. And even surrounded by cold snow and bare earth, Jaskier could not help the warmth that flooded him at those words. Even with the heartache that he glimpsed in Anne’s, he could not help but to hope. That maybe, somehow, this would turn out alright. Maybe it wouldn’t matter that he could barely stand on his own. Because if they had each other, they could limp along together, leaning on one another, until they were both healed. “Then we’ll try it,” the buckskin offered simply, sidling a single step closer to her side. Not enough that they touched, but enough to show his conviction; to show that he was well and truly here.

“First things first,” he said then, the soft sigh of his breath forming a pale cloud in the air. “We should get you somewhere safe. And then from there, we can figure the rest out. One step at a time.” The stallion glanced at his companion again, letting her expression determine whether he looked away or held her gaze. As strange as it felt to talk to the night— to the wintry field and the stars winking overhead— it was a small sacrifice to make for Anne’s comfort. Just as it cost him nothing to offer her a choice, instead of simply sweeping her back to his own home in the Harbor. Well... almost nothing. Enya might skin him alive if he delivered a potential herd member into another land, but he thought that— in this case— the golden mare might understand.

“What was your home like? And did you— I mean, were you hoping to find its like here? Or were you looking for something different?” Something that might help you forget, he didn’t add.

But the words were still there, unspoken, in the air between them, showing how much he understood.