His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 4

Y/n didn't know how they found themselves in this situation. One moment, they were riding into Cintra, Jaskier the bard once again by their side at neither of their choice, the next moment they were standing on a frozen lake, back to back, awaiting the sounds of the selkiemore underneath the water. The little fat man that asked for their assistance stood on the side of the lake, watching as they waited. Geralt had shed his armor, the weight too much for the thin ice around them.

Y/n let out a breath, seeing the fog spill from her lips as she felt the ice beneath her feet. She could almost feel the selkiemore moving beneath it. "Prepare yourself, Y/n," she heard Geralt whisper to her. "Get the man to safety."

"I'm not leaving you, Geralt," she snapped back, holding her sword tighter in her grip as the monster once again passed by their feet. She didn't want to miss out taking down a selkeimore of all things, no matter how protective Geralt was over her.

"What was the one thing I told you to listen to when I tell you?" he demanded with a growl, reminding her of the first time they set off together to find a monster.

"When I tell you to run, you run. When I tell you to hide, you hide. You don't listen, and you may as well be as good as dead."

"That was years ago, Geralt. I've passed my twentieth nameday already," she whispered back quickly, hearing the selkiemore once again as it groaned and let out a growl beneath the ice. No, Y/n wasn't going to miss out on this one. She wasn't going to let Geralt push her out of the way of killing-

The selkiemore burst from the ice before she could finish her distracting thought, and it came upon them faster than she could react. She managed to sink her sword partially into the underbelly, blood spraying on her face, before having to roll out of the way as it came crashing down into the frozen water. The short man yelled in terror as he watched it shatter the ice of the lake. Geralt, acting quickly, pushed Y/n out of the way of its cavernous mouth, knocking her aside and causing her to land harshly onto the solid, snow covered ground. "May the gods have mercy!" she heard the man cry out as they watched the monster swallow Geralt in one giant bite. He had his hand out to Y/n and his sword up, telling her to not come near the monster before he disappeared from her sight.

Both her and the man were covered in blood and monster saliva, for the selkiemore had roared a loud terror-cry at the two of them, coating them in the substances, before diving back under the water with Geralt in its stomach. "Shit," Y/n muttered, and the man beside her sobbed at watching the witcher get eaten. She, however, knew that Geralt was fine. He had survived much, much worse than the innards of a selkiemore. "Uh, come on. Let's go back to the inn. I'll return to finish off the beast once you're safe."

"How can you defeat such a beast when a witcher couldn't even survive?" the man continued to cry as she led him back to the tavern Jasker was waiting at. He, no doubt, was eager for the details of their story to write a new song of Geralt's adventures with the Little Bird, which regretfully stuck once people discovered Y/n did, in fact, exist.

"I'm extremely lucky," Y/n settled on answering, giving the man a passing smile before looking away with a grimace. If Geralt couldn't defeat a monster, then no one could. Especially not her. She really hoped he was killing that selkiemore from the inside out as he had told her he would. Selkiemore skin was too thick to be pierced from the outside, so cutting through its systems was the only way to kill them.

"Bless you, Little Bird. Bless you," the man continued, and Y/n was beginning to grow tired of his words. The term 'Little Bird' had stuck far too well on her, making people begin to ask her why she was called such a phrase. Her hood covered her golden hair as always, so she responded it had to do with singing. It wasn't a lie, just not the full truth. What they didn't need to know was they she would never sing around men. Women were never affected by siren songs, but men, whose hearts were weak and easily corrupted, fell victim at the drop of a note when sirens sang. To be careful, Y/n never sang, not even alone. She didn't want to risk becoming exactly what they feared she was.