His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 5

Jaskier was having an honest-to-the-gods hard time keeping his mind straight as he and his, as he called them in his head, 'entourage', entered Queen Calanthe's castle in the crown city of Cintra. He just could not keep his eyes off of the image of surreal beauty and divine light that came from the woman standing beside him, her arm on his, in the blue gown. Her now brown hair was done up as well as could be, but Y/n of Vizima still cast an image wherever she went.

However, as usual, Jaskier's eyes were drawn away as they entered the great hall where the festivities were being held, the multiple other women surrounding him making him fall in love over and over again with each new pair of lovely doe eyes he saw. He reminded himself to keep his hands to himself tonight, for the many lords that were scattered among the room were already starting to give him looks of remembrance as he walked in with Geralt on one side and Y/n on the other. Jaskier hoped his ruse to keep himself safe tonight worked in his favor, but he knew he'd have to stay away from many to do so.

Geralt beside him, dressed in a fine blue shirt with his hair combed back, looked around the hall with caution and irritation, already regretting agreeing to help the bard. "Right, so stick close to me, look mean, and pretend you're a mute. Can't have anyone finding out who you actually are," Jaskier told him, cerulean eyes sweeping the floor.

"Geralt of Rivia!! The mighty witcher!!" they heard a man exclaim from afar, and looked to see an older man with a black beard and chin length hair, dressed in a golden shirt, raising his mug of ale to their arrival.

"Oh, shit," Jaskier muttered as everyone around them began muttering at the notice of Geralt's arrival, whose face instantly turned sour as Y/n hid her face behind her hand. "Well, love, no one's recognized you, so keep up the act."

"How long must I endure these egregious shoes?" she whispered to him as the older man began their way to speak with Geralt, but Jaskier merely gave a light laugh. The heels she wore upon her feet were already causing her to blister.

"I haven't seen you since the plague," the older man said as he approached, and gave a fleeting glance to Y/n, but nothing more. This dismissive reaction to her presence made her let out a slight breath of relief. She could tell from the sheer power of magic flowing from this man that he was a mage.

"Good times, Mousesack," Geralt replied to the man, Mousesack, and he let out a slightly drunken laugh, already obviously feeling the effects of the mead in his hand.

"I've missed your sour complexion," Mousesack said with a wide smile, and Jaskier began waving at a few of the patrons who noticed him, making Y/n raise her eyebrow at him. "I feared this would be a dull affair, but now the White Wolf is here, perhaps all is not lost." Mousesack took hold of Geralt's shoulders, looked him over, and questioned, "Why are you dressed like a sad silk trader?" Geralt gave a heated glare towards Jaskier, who sheepishly looked back as he played with his hands. At Jaskier's unassuming look of confusion, Mousesack pulled Geralt to the side, drawing him from Jaskier and Y/n, much to the latter's demise.

"Geralt, you traitorous bastard," Y/n whispered under her breath, letting go of Jaskier's arm, which caused him to look over to her in slight panic.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait-" Jaskier spoke quickly, following as she tried to leave his side to head to the feasting tables. "Please don't leave me alone." A loud cheer rang out through the halls as a man toasted to Mousesack, interrupting Jaskier before the bard was allowed to continue to Y/n's raised eyebrow and crossed arms. "Those lords out there will feast on my bones as soon as I am left alone."

"Well, considering many of their wives have already had that pleasure," Y/n emphasized her sarcastic tone of the last word, making Jaskier widen his eyes at her wording, "I'm sure you can handle a few lords, my dear bard."