There's little difference, really, between holding Ciri and holding Jaskier; the bard is larger, certainly, but he curls up in much the same way that she does, shoves his face into Geralt's chest. His arms clutch at him and his fingers bunch his shirt up at the back. Ciri always calmed faster when he held her tightly than when it was a loose embrace, so hopefully Jaskier would be the same. The bard's heart is hummingbird fast in his chest, his breaths quick, his limbs shaking even as they're holding on. He doesn't like it.

Jaskier tells him about the dream, how Nilfgaard found the people he cared for and used them to make him talk, so that they could find Ciri and himself. It's awful, mostly because so much of it rings true-- they would have done whatever was necessary to get information about Ciri's whereabouts, and they would have killed him once his usefulness was over. The worst part is what he says afterwards, his voice tremulous and desperate-- I didn't tell them anything, I swear-- the fear in it, and the loyalty. Even if Jaskier didn't know where he was or where he had taken Ciri, he still knows so many other important things about him. He could have told them about his potions, the places he liked to stop, friends and allies that he would go to. He's far too shaken to lie, and even if he wasn't, Geralt would have still believed him. Jaskier is loyal even when Geralt doesn't deserve his loyalty.

"I know," he says, and sets one large, calloused hand on the back of Jasker's head. "It's all right, you're safe now. I won't let them touch you again."

It's a promise that he probably shouldn't make-- he'll have his hands full with protecting Ciri, nevertheless adding Jaskier, a bard exceptionally prone to finding trouble, to the mix. But, well, it's his fault that the bard's in this kind of trouble, he has a certain obligation to keep him out of any more of it.

And the whole... friends thing. That, too.