Assorted Character Oneshots

Geralt of Rivia

Summary: Y/N is a rogue caught by Geralt as they try to steal from Jasiker at a tavern.

Possible triggers: Smut

Word Count: 2,100

Enjoy!

I placed the mug on the table in front of me, the music and loud cries from the drunks that swayed around me was giving me a headache. I decided I would take off, after all, there wasn't much here for me. That's when they walked in. 

Two men, one was captivatingly quiet. The one that walked ahead was shorter with brown hair. He carried a lute which tipped off everyone in the room to what was to come. The taller one, the quiet one. I wondered how they came to be friends, one so loud and one who hardly spoke. The quiet one, even though he was quite dirty, stuck out like a sore thumb on account of his striking white hair. I glanced him over only to find when my eyes had wandered back to his face, he was watching me. 

I quickly turned and hid my face behind the hood of my cloak. Though, I could still feel his eyes on me. I decided to stick around and see if I could skim anything off the bard and then take my leave. I finished the last few drops of mead in the mug and turned my attention to the short brunette as he began to strum his instrument. I could see the fair haired one still watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I stalked over to where the bard was sitting, shedding my hood to reveal my _____ hair. My arrival seemed to captivate the bard, which is exactly what I wanted. 

"Well hello there gorgeous." The bard spoke quite confidently.

I chuckled and played bashful, turning my head away slightly, "Oh you flatter me, bard."

"Jasiker is my name, and what might yours be?"

"I'm _____, and I can't help but feel like we've met before." I sat down quite close to him, our legs squished together slightly.

"Oh, I think I'd remember meeting an angel like you." The more he flirt, the closer I got. It would be a matter of moments before I would take his coin purse and be off on my way home.

"Hardly,"  A gruff voice spoke up slightly.

I turned to face the man, though now the medallion hanging around his neck was clear to see. The Witcher, they called him. I had heard stories, songs about him, no doubt a doing of his bard companion. 

Jasiker gasped and acted offended at his friends accusations, but I giggled slightly, catching the bards attention once more.

"Well who can blame him? I mean, a bard, travelling with a witcher, and with your looks? I'm surprised I'm the only one trying to catch your attention."

Jasiker smirked back at the witcher, "See? Not everyone is so uptight about it."

I giggled and sat myself on Jasiker's lap delicately, "How about you come back to my room? After your performance, of course."

That was all it took, he agreed excitedly and removed me from his lap. He then got up and began to sing.

I picked the bag off of his hip as he passed me and tucked it away under my cloak before the Witcher could notice. I turned back to him and smirked.

"So what is your name anyway?"

"Geralt." 

He was stiff and cold, his gaze was as sharp as the tales said it was. He was an interesting character, the temptation to stay and try to pick his brain intrigued me, but the urgency to get home ultimately won out. After a few songs, and a few drinks, I wriggled my way through the crowd, making sure that the bard didn't notice me.