Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Training

Geralt had taken a real bath upon Jaskier's insistence while the Bard hummed to himself and dressed in no rush. They headed back to the main hall trying their best to pretend they hadn't done what they'd just done. The hall was empty - as Lambert had said, they were training - so Geralt went in search of Vesemir. Jaskier trailed along like a lost puppy, not really sure what he was meant to do. They reached a dark chamber that smelt like feet and Jaskier lingered in the door as Geralt approached Vesemir in the middle of some sort of monster autopsy and muttered something to him.
The older Witcher let out a chuckle and mumbled something back. Geralt turned with a half-smile trained on Jaskier and said "I'm going to train, are you coming?" 
"Can I bring my lute? I find it whiles the hours away, and besides my muse is at his most inspiring when he's fighting." Jaskier flirted, watching Geralt's eyeroll with a smile on his lips. Vesemir looked disgusted by the sight but didn't say anything.
"Hmm." Geralt said, nodding curtly and gesturing for Jaskier to leave out of the door he came in through. He rushed back to their room to grab his coat and lute, just as he reached the door again he thought about the snow and frost on the mountain and grabbed a woollen blanket; Geralt may not feel the cold but he very much did. He followed a silent Geralt to a hidden courtyard sheltered by the walls of the fort and sat himself on a segment of crumbled wall, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. The other Witcher's were here, some clashing swords with each other, others running through sword stances on poles 50 feet in the air. Coen turned upon hearing the arrival of Jaskier and Geralt, and smirked.
"Found time out of your busy schedule to come train have you? And brought the bard too..."
"He'd bore himself to death in there and then I'd have to hear him complain for hours." Geralt grumbled, and though it was true, he said it with affection. Jaskier heard.
"Hey! I'm a pleasure to be around!" Geralt rolled his eyes. Jaskier began plucking at the strings of his lute as he watched his Witcher intently as he danced, sword flashing and clanging against Lamberts. This went on for an hour and eventually Jaskier realised if he were going to remember  any of the chords he was playing he would have to write it down. Geralt wouldn't miss him; he slipped away, blanket wrapped tightly around him and headed to his room to fetch a quill and paper. 
Tucking the paper under his waistcoat and quill into his pocket, Jaskier turned and shut Geralt's door behind him. He intended to return straight to his Witcher but when he swivvelled back around he was faced with the length of a broad sword levelled at his throat.
"Fuck-king hell." He jumped, backing into the door. The man on the other end of the sword was looking at him with distinct disgust and rage, the look wasn't knew but the man was so Jaskier wasn't sure what he could have done to offend him.
"Who- " The man leant closer and he reeked of blood. "The fuck. Are you?" He snarled.
"Jaskier, i'm here with Geralt." Jaskier said, his voice shaking.
"I bet, and that's why you were stealing from his room? What are you, some sort of Mage?" He said with a lip curled up in distain. "What have you done to him?!"
"No- god no, i was just-" Jaskier reached into his jacket to show that he only had paper, but in retrospect it was probably a bad choice, because the stranger seemed to think he was reaching for a knife. His sword went horizontally across the Bard's throat, his hands at either end and face looming closer.
Jaskier turned his head to the side and did the one thing he could think would save him right now. "GERALT!"