Okay I was going to just let this lie but then I thought of how--
When Geralt finally brings himself to seek Jaskier out, when he finds Jaskier again, he's playing a ditty on their spoons. He's singing an absurd song of defiance and Geralt doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry, because Jaskier seems so much more carefree than Geralt dared to hope but he also seems to have completely forgotten that it's Geralt's spoon, and that shouldn't hurt as much as it does, but it feels like a symbol of all the gifts and kindness Geralt lost when he threw away Jaskier's heart on the mountain. It's part of why he hugs Jaskier back without so much as a second of hesitation -- he missed the bard and he loved the bard more than he knew and right now, he needs the comfort almost as much as Jaskier does.
But he doesn't have time for feelings like that, not while the world seems to be falling apart around him, so he gets Jaskier out of the cell and sets off and tries his best to forget about the messy feelings the bard is so good at inducing in him. He does his best to apologize, of course, but he knows it isn't as good as it should be. He'll make up for it later, he hopes.
Then the whole mess with Voleth Meir happens and he forgets about almost everything that isn't keeping his daughter and the rest of his family alive, at least as well as he can. He comes out of the battle in a haze of grief and bewilderment. He talks to Ciri and they go to bed, and he manages to doze a little bit before dawn. He stumbles into the kitchen with everyone else, sits down on a bench they managed to salvage, takes a bowl of stew--
And realizes that he doesn't have a spoon. Whatever cutlery might have been lying around Kaer Morhen has been moved or destroyed.
He doesn't know how long he sits there, staring into the stew as though it might somehow solve his problems. He is just about to give up and go back to bed when, to his great surprise, he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He looks up. It's Jaskier, gazing down on him with a soft little lopsided smile.
"Here," says Jaskier. Geralt looks down.
Hesitantly, almost nervously, Jaskier is offering him his spoon.
"Don't you need it?" Geralt rasps. He's noticed, despite everything, that Jaskier doesn't have his lute. He does not want to deprive Jaskier of the only thing he has that resembles an instrument.
"You need it more," says Jaskier gently. He presses the spoon into Geralt's hand.
Geralt takes it. Jaskier sits down beside him. Wordlessly, he hands Jaskier a bowl of stew. Jaskier takes it, and his smile becomes a little bit more real.
"Thank you," whispers Geralt. Jaskier says nothing, but he shifts until their thighs are touching under the table.
And, when Geralt brings the spoon to his lips, the stew tastes almost like hope.
