His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 8

Y/n believed herself to be a patient woman. With what she did with her life, she would have to be. However, as she stood with Geralt, pacing back and forth in the dining room of the mayor's house, she had never been more impatient. Her boots hit the ground harshly as she stepped back and forth along the stone ground, waiting for any sign of the mage, who's name was Yennefer of Vengerberg, to return with news of Jaskier. Geralt even knew of no way to ease her restlessness, for even he was over the edge of waiting.

Finally, they heard the sounds of heels clicking against stone, and turned to see Yennefer walking down the stairs from her bedroom where Jaskier lay. Her mask was removed, and she looked at the pair when she approached the table. "He's in a deep healing sleep," she said as she stopped in front of them.

"How long will he sleep for?" Y/n asked, anxious for his recovery.

"Long enough for you both to bathe," Yennefer said, and Y/n raised her eyebrow.

Yennefer dropped two pairs of clothing for them, and Geralt looked at it questioningly. "How did you-... oh, right," he stopped himself from asking a stupid question. "Magic. And I hardly think bathing in this house is going to leave me any cleaner."

"I insist," Yennefer said smoothly. "I cannot only guess the age and breed of your horse, but also it's color... by the smell."

Y/n scoffed, and moved the clothes away from herself before stepping up to Yennefer and saying, "I would rather see the condition of my friend before resorting myself to any recreation."

"I assure you, he is healing quite well... for a human," Yennefer told her, but Y/n was still not convinced.

"I insist," she said back, just as Yennefer had. Geralt could see the disliking in his companion's eyes, and let out a sigh at her behavior. "I wish to see my friend."

Yennefer looked at Geralt, telling him silently to wait here, and turned to lead Y/n away to the bedroom where Jaskier was. As they walked, Y/n briskly remained behind the witch as Yennefer said, "You're awfully protective over someone claimed to be a mere friend."

"I care not for your implications, witch. Just bring me to him," Y/n snapped, and Yennefer turned to her, stopping the both of them.

"You'd be wise to remember it is by my magic that he is healing," she spoke back, making Y/n give a light sarcastic smile.

"We'll see. When this is over and done, if he is cured, only then will my view of you change," Y/n said. Yennefer merely turned, reigniting their strides towards the room.

The door opened as Yennefer pulled upon the handle, and Y/n walked into the room after her. Looking down upon the bed, she was almost unprepared for the sight. Jaskier's doublet had been shed, but his chemise was covered in blood on his chest. He lay, sleeping peacefully upon the orange covers of the large four poster bed. Y/n hated seeing him like this, almost lifeless. She found herself missing the plucky, annoying as all hell bard that wrote songs of love, adventure, and Geralt and his Little Bird. No doubt, when he woke... if he woke, he would be quick to write a ballad of his near death experience with the djinn.

Yennefer's eyes moved from the bard to the half siren, saying, "If you don't mind, I'll borrow your witcher for a moment. He seems like quite the interesting story."

"Do as you will with him. I know he can handle himself against your pursuit," Y/n dismissed her, gritting her teeth and turning her head just far enough back to get the witch in her view, but not enough to meet her eyes.