Eskel just makes a vague, affirming noise when Jaskier thanks him, his body relaxed but his mind ready. His own two swords are propped up at the foot of the bed, within easy reach should something happen, though it was unlikely that anyone or anything would be out tonight. Not someplace so remote, and with the weather set to dip quite cold.

Jaskier puts the pillows back and assumes his usual sleeping position, leaving a large portion of the mattress available for Geralt to take up. It doesn't really matter, though, because the bard's just going to roll over and tuck himself up against Geralt's chest anyway. But he's ready to sleep, and he's not going to rest until he's got a witcher in bed with him. Might as well just not fight it.

Geralt gets into bed behind him, pulling the furs and blankets up over them to keep the bard warm. Even with the fire, it'll be cold, and Jaskier's fragile human body will need all the heat it can get. The witcher opens his arms to him, to let him get as close as he wants for tonight.

And once Jaskier has gotten himself settled, Geralt presses his nose into his hair, breathes deep and slow, and tries to sleep.