The Road Winds to You (I Met The Strangest Man)

Full Story

Belleteyn was the perfect night for a grand re-opening. The tables groaned with food and decanters sparkled with plum wine and spirits. Music filled the space and since he'd splurged, they were actually quite pleasant to listen to. Laughter and chatter swelled around him as servers bustled back and forth carrying trays laden with delectable little morsels. The kitchen was humming right along. And coin was flowing.

It was a fine night for a grand re-opening.

This would mark The Traveler's Way as the stop for any and all looking to rest their weary heads and sore feet, as the promise of good food and a comfortable bed was worth the few extra coins. Jaskier was going to take the family business and expand into hospitality, providing affordable accommodations that didn't cater to any one set of folk. And as he stood behind the polished oak counter and sold his next to last room (to a couple who were definitely...in the mood set by the festival), he couldn't help but grin.

This was just the start. He had grand plans and couldn't wait to see what was next.

And then a Witcher rode into town.

The inn stopped when a mountain of a man clad in black armor with two swords strapped to his back strode in the door. The minstrels screeched to a halt and everyone cut their chatter to stare. Jaskier went into full emergency mode, giving the musicians the stink eye as he said, "Continue, everyone! It is Belleteyn, after all! Don't miss the dance reels behind the inn, great fun!" He motioned to the servers and yelled, "Drinks on the house!" A raucous cheer went up as the inn slowly bustled back to life, but the stares followed the Witcher anyways.

A Witcher. At his inn. Jaskier couldn't believe his luck. Most business owners didn't enjoy having Witchers around, but that always seemed like superstitious balderdash to him. Witchers were strong and brave and capable of putting down creatures that haunted the caves and swamps and killed innocents. It never made any sense to him to denigrate such bravery.

The Witcher stalked over to the counter and Jaskier had to fight back a slack jawed expression. Melitele's fine arse, he was gorgeous. Bright gold cat eyes, firm mouth set in a frown, steely jaw. The white hair, while striking, was a bit ragged but he could fix that up. And he was massive. Jaskier wasn't a small man but the Witcher made him look like a child in comparison. And he absolutely was not staring at the Witcher's gloved hands or admiring the impossibly tight pants that covered thick thighs.

Jaskier, stop. No. Do not think such things about your customers! It's uncouth and oh my god, how does someone so big move so quietly?

He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and said, "Ah, friend, welcome to The Traveler's Way!" Jaskier smiled brightly and gave a courtly little bow. "How may I help you this fine -"

A heavy coin purse landed on the counter as the Witcher's eyes bore into him. "A room, with a bath, and food."

Jaskier was going to swoon. No, no he wasn't. He was a businessman, a proprietor. And he absolutely wasn't suddenly obsessed with the deep, dark voice of gravel and velvet that rumbled out of the man before him like some god sent down from the skies.

"You are in luck," he said, cheerful note not leaving his voice. "I have one room left and it's my second largest one. So it's, ah, a bit more expensive than the standard -"

"How much?"

"How long are you staying?"

The Witcher studied him for a moment. That gaze scraped over Jaskier's face and body and he felt it somewhere deep inside. Probably between the third and fourth rib and then a fair bit lower. He pointed to common room behind him. "This going on all night?"