Make Me Feel Again ♕ Geralt Of Rivia

eleven .

E L E A N O R A

Gravel crunches under the rubber of Geralt's boots as he walks down the path leading away from Posada. He guides Roach by her reins on foot while I sat on top of her with Finley bringing up the rear, nose buried in the ground as he sniffs at it to his heart's content.

"Need a hand?" A foreign voice calls out from behind as he approaches us, "I've got two. One for each of the, uh, devils horns."

I steal a glance over my shoulder of the man who had spoken. He pants as he struggles to keep up with us. The breeze tossing up his brown locks, causing them to stick up in various directions.

I raise my brows at Gor in question and he simply grunts in annoyance.

"Ah, I don't believe we've met." The man turns his attention to me, his demeanour shifting to something a little more flirtatious. "The name's Jaskier, and who might you be?"

"Eleanora." I say offering him a hand and a smile, "Pleasure."

"Oh, believe me when I say the pleasure's all mine, Eleanora." He says, taking my hand and planting a slow kiss across my knuckles, "I wasn't expecting to be blessed with such an absolutely gorgeous view when I decided to join in on the fun."

Jaskier lifts a brow suggestively, making it clear that wasn't referring to the stunning scenery around us when he'd mentioned the 'gorgeous view'.

Gor glowers at Jaskier. If only looks could kill, Jaskier would well have died a gruesome death about half a second ago.

Jaskier's smile fades as he notices Gor scowling at him. "What? A lady as pretty as her deserves to be showered with compliments, don't you think?"

Geralt lets out a growl, glaring daggers into the man's skull, "Go away."

"I won't be but silent back-up." Jaskier continues,  undeterred by Gor's stand-offish attitude. "Look, I heard your note, and, yes, you're right. Maybe real adventures would make better stories. And you, sir, smell chock full of them...Amongst other things. I mean, what is that? Is that onion?" He makes a show of sniffing the air, before waving off his thoughts. "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

"It's onion," Gor replies, making me snort a laugh.

Geralt glances back at me, the corner of his lips twitching as he fights back a smile, looking satisfied with himself for managing to make me laugh before smoothing out his features once again. Ah, ever so stoic.

"Right, yeah. Yeah." Jaskier drones on, earning another glare from Gor for uttering another word. "Oh, I could be your barker. Spreading tales of Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken."

The name makes my skin prickle. As anyone could probably tell; I wasn't a fan. It made Gor sound more like the cold-blooded killer everyone has made him out to be, whereas the Gor I knew was anything but.

My friend stops in his tracks, passing Roach's reins from one hand to another before gesturing for Jaskier to move closer. "Come here."

Stupidly, he does. Looking incredibly hopeful as well.

"Yeah?"