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Jaskier is alone in the bed when he wakes, the pale light sneaking in under the cabin's curtains and casting the ghosts of shadows along the empty pillow next to him. There's warmth tucked along the back of his knees, and Dandi's fur tickles slightly as the dog shifts and grumbles, assumedly hunting dream rabbits, lord knows he can't catch the real things. Jaskier slowly eels his way out from under the covers, leaving Dandi undisturbed as a little lump under the duvet. His toes dig into the thick rug as he stands and stretches out his back, yawning and grabbing a thick knitted jumper Geralt had left over the bannister yesterday.
Padding down the steep stairs — almost a ladder — he heads for the small kitchen space, fighting through more yawns to get the coffee machine started. As that runs, he tugs open the curtains, revealing a field of white down to the small stream and forest line. There's still flurries in the air, although nothing like what must have fallen overnight. A big black bird caws at him from one of the corral posts, a crow or raven, he never learned the difference, snow settling on it's wings, bright against the dark feathers. At least that answers the question of why Geralt and Roach haven't made it back, and he hopes they found somewhere to shelter.
In fact it's close to two hours later when he hears footsteps on the porch outside, before the door opens and Geralt slips inside, looking as fine as ever. Jaskier hasn't got as far as a proper breakfast, just taken some photos from the cabin windows, picked at last night's leftovers then topped up the fire and settled down on the sofa with quiet music, Dandi and his book. Alright, he might have texted Vesemir to see if the warning system at the ranch was showing Geralt in danger, but the magic seemed to think he was fine. So, taking a slow morning and relaxing it was.
Geralt tugs his gloves and scarf off and hangs them up by the door, blowing on his fingers as he wanders over to Jaskier. He cups his cheek, fingers still far too cold against Jaskier’s skin, but not as cold as his nose when he leans down to brush them together, before capturing his lips in a brief kiss. Dandi stirs in his lap, sleepily yipping and trying to shove his face into Geralt's chest and the opening of his thick jacket.
"Go have a shower."
Humming, Geralt pulls away to do as Jaskier asks without a complaint, which is a better indication that he's feeling the cold than anything else, witcher or no. While he does so, Jaskier unwinds himself from his blanket cocoon and heads back to the stove, retrieving eggs and sausages from the fridge, and after a moment goes back for the rest of french toast ingredients too. There's the familiar quiet clicks of Dandi's claws against the tiles, as he follows Jaskier, determined to be underfoot for as long as it takes his paws to get cold.
Jaskier also sets water boiling to make Geralt's tea, and peers out the window to see Roach in the corral shelter with a haynet, and mentally makes a note to take some hot water out after breakfast (brunch?) to mix into her bucket and stop it freezing as quickly. The food doesn't take long to throw together, and he also ends up adding halloumi and hash browns, as well as some toast. Geralt eats a lot on a good day, and an overnight hunt will likely not have improved the situation.
Arms come up round his waist unexpectedly and Geralt presses a kiss to his cheek before hooking his chin over Jaskier’s shoulder, a rumbling almost purr in his chest. Jaskier sways them slightly in time to the music as he finishes plating everything up and slides it onto the breakfast bar next to him, forming a kind of simple buffet.
"This was a good idea." Jaskier almost misses Geralt's quiet words, and immediately squashes his instinct to smugly make him repeat it. Jaskier had been the one to suggest renting the tiny cabin rather than sleeping in the horsebox. Its only an open plan room with the stovetop, fridge and a small countertop on one side, then a breakfast bar with a couple of stools on one side. The sofa is pushed up against the other side of the bar with a tv mounted on the far wall, a short bookshelf underneath, a small woodburner in the corner and no room for a coffee table. The bed is in an open loft level above the tiny bathroom, and more or less takes up the whole upstairs space. The cabin does however have a corral for horses as there are trails nearby, and they even got a hefty discount as Geralt was going to deal with whatever had been menacing the property.
Its cosy, and Jaskier loves it a little. Probably not long term, but for the four nights they have it, its perfect.
Geralt moves away with a kiss to the back of Jaskier’s neck to serve himself and settle on the sofa, within reaching distance of seconds for when he wants them. Jaskier does the same, his plate mostly consisting of french toast, and mentally thanks Lambert and Vesemir for teaching him to cook basic things. It's been a slow process, but they've got him here. Jaskier swings his legs up, and Geralt lifts his plate exactly in time for them to rest over his lap, and he absently kneads Jaskier’s calf for a second before picking up his fork.
Dandi jumps up and wriggles underneath Jaskier's legs and settles against Geralt's hip, and Jaskier tugs the blankets around them, re-nesting with the ease of long practice. Geralt doesn't seem to be bothered or in a rush to head back out, so the problem's likely dealt with. The animals both seem settled, at least for the moment. Jaskier's warm and comfy, and it's looking likely the next couple of days will be free before they head over to the ranch for winter proper.
Life's good.