His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 3

The fact that Geralt left Y/n alone in a tavern was enough to make her just a little bit angry. The fact that he left her alone to have a quick romp in the sack with a whore, however, made her downright furious. She couldn't even stay in their room, given that Geralt was using it to ease his pleasures. As she sat there in her booth, alone, drinking nothing but shitty ale, she let out a grumble. This had to be one of the worst towns they had ever come to, and not for the many men who eyed her or tried to have her hand in a dance. No, she would gladly have her way with a few of them if she so pleased. But not tonight.

A bard sang in the tavern, reminding her of the one she and Geralt had met in Posada, Jaskier. He did travel with them for some time, telling the tales of the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Y/n did not care for the fact that his most famous ballad, Toss A Coin To Your Witcher, had included her as a 'little bird'. Jaskier had told her numerous times that he did not include her by way of her name, only that he felt the song and story would be incomplete without all those present.

And so, wherever she went, she heard tales of the illustrious Little Bird that the bard Jaskier sang of, no one ever truly knowing his or her identity. Many argued she didn't exist, and that it was simply a tool to make the song Jaskier sang more worthy of a story. Many wondered why the term she was gifted was 'Little Bird' instead of something more powerful like Geralt's own 'White Wolf', even if they knew not who she was.

At the moment, Jaskier did not accompany them to this tavern, instead setting off for a few months to spread more of his songs to the world. Geralt let him leave happily. Y/n bade the bard a goodbye, but her heart did not long to see him again. Sure, the occasional company he gave was sometimes, albeit rarely, a way for her to escape the constant grunts of Geralt's lack of communication. She was fond of him, but not enough. However, at the moment, she would give near anything to have the bard at her side instead of waiting for Geralt to finish with the whore.

Finally, when Geralt had walked out of his room, clad in his cloak and armor as always, Y/n quickly stood from her seat. She immediately felt the effects of the ale she had been drinking, her head getting dizzy as Geralt looked down at her with judgemental disappointment in his eyes at the state of her drinking. "Have you finished?" he asked her, looking down at the many, many empty cups of shitty ale that lay on her table.

"Says you. Can you even get it up anymore?" she snapped back at him, holding onto the table for support. She wasn't drunk, per say, just a little more under the influence than usual. Geralt gave her an aggravated look, and started out of the tavern, to which Y/n smirked under her hood and mumbled, "Well, that wasn't a yes."

She followed him out as the innkeeper followed her, keeping close behind the two of them. Y/n assumed he was waiting for his pay for the room, but knowing Geralt, he spent the rest of their coin on his pleasure. To be fair, she spent quite a bit on her own alcoholic endeavors, but at least she didn't take up the entire room just to do it. When they reached their horses, Y/n saw Roach slightly bump Geralt across his nose, the witcher responding to his horse's reaction with, "Don't judge me." Y/n snorted as she climbed up on Windchaser, the mare stomping her hoof into the ground as Y/n watched Geralt speak with the innkeeper, who hung out his door, waiting for his coin. "I'll be back with payment in a few days. Anything happens to my horse-"

The innkeeper laughed at Geralt, looking up into the yellow eyes of the witcher. "You don't scare me," he snarked, making Geralt drop his eyebrows.

Geralt was an intimidating presence. Even the most brave of souls cowered in their boots at his eagle like eyes. Y/n held in her chuckles at the innkeeper when Geralt stalked up close to the man, towering over the smaller figure. The innkeeper dropped his hands from his hips, suddenly shaking in his boots as Geralt glared at him. "Point me to Temeria," Geralt demanded, drawing the attention of the woman on her horse.