Shift My World (Witcher x Reader fanfic)

Chapter 3

"Toss a coin to your witcher oh valley of plenty~" Olivia could practically hear Geralt's eye roll as his golden orbs closed briefly and rolled up into his skull. It made her giggle a little bit as the bard beside her was strumming away at his lute singing that catchy old tune of his.

It was so fascinating and hilarious to watch how Jaskier got onto the witcher's nerves as they walked along a dirt path through the mountainside. Funny up until Geralt turns around with a threatening glare on his strong-featured face as his jaw clenches so hard she could practically hear the popping of his jaw bone. The dark-haired woman winced at that look and fell behind the singing bard for protection just in case the white-haired witcher chose to act upon his violent thoughts of pummeling the singing brunet who stopped in mid-tune and held up his hands in surrender. 

"Now Geralt, you know I'm only trying to lighten the mood!" Jaskier said as if he was trying to talk down a mountain lion ready to pounce. 

"I don't think he appreciates the effort Jas." Olivia piped up over his shoulder before squeaking as the irritated glare of wolf-like pupils turned towards her making her duck back behind the bard. "I'm just saying Geralt! It's better than walking in silence!" she added sticking her tongue out at him.

A week ago she would not have thought she'd be acting like a petulant child towards the man who could snuff her life out with a finger. But here she was traveling across the continent with the witcher and the singing bard like a happy dysfunctional trio of fuckery. It was funny really. Thanks to Geralt's potions and fresh herbs Olivia's wound had closed up nicely although there would be a scar running along her side, it'll be something to remember at least. She'd officially joined their group and thanks to them most nights they were in some sort of tavern or another when passing through towns instead of sleeping in the forests on the cold ground even if the witcher was so used to it. She'd come to find out that she had a knack for negotiation and finding jobs was rather easy. From washing dishes to serving in taverns to gain extra coins for the night was easier than she thought and better yet her hard work paid for rooms for her and her boys. Funny, her boys. Since when did Olivia ever think that the witcher and the bard were hers, to begin with? Probably whenever they'd in not so many words claimed her as theirs. Fighting for her honor when rowdy men got a little too handsy and Jaskier more often than not having to drag her along with him to escape unruly customers who he offended. The trips with the two men were fun. Some days there was excitement like the events stated above while others were rather mundane as they traveled along the path; similar to days such as this. But today was a little different; she could tell that Geralt was a little more stressed and irritable than normal. Maybe it was that extra murderous energy that exuded from him or the way his fist clenched the reigns of Roach's halter. Perhaps it was the tick in his jaw or stiff posture. Such signs that she'd come to pick up easily enough to be able to pull Jaskier back before a black-gloved fist could connect with his stomach. 

She tutted at the white-haired witcher who looked ready to swing again in anger at the fact she'd managed to pull his target from his grasp. Jaskier gasped dramatically with a flabbergasted look on his face as he sputtered incoherent words that probably were words of offense at being aimed at. The dark-haired woman crossed her arms and stood in front of the bard with a slight glare on her face as she spoke as if talking to a bratty child. 

"Nuh-uh. There will be none of that Geralt. There will be no violence when I'm around. Keep your grubby paws off my bard man. Who else will sing me to sleep when I'm restless?" she raised a brow.

Geralt gave a slight snarl before returning his attention to the road ahead. Swinging himself up onto the chestnut mare he was leading he nudged her into a canter; putting some space between him and the idiocy behind him. Olivia frowned at his retreating back before turning to look at Jaskier with a raised brow. "What crawled into his trousers and died? Doesn't he seem a little more irritable than usual?"