His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 15

A few months passed since Y/n joined Jaskier in helping the elves escape the northern kingdoms. Each day, they would find more and more lost, hungry souls in the store room of the tavern. Every night, Jaskier would perform his array of wonderous songs, and every night, once everyone had left, he and Y/n would sneak their fugitives out of the streets on onto boats bound for the south. She had taken on the moniker of the Goldfinch, matching Jaskier's Sandpiper, to hide herself as he did. Y/n had heard tales of Nilfgaard and the elves joining forces, a safe haven in Cintra being their main base of operations. She had no love of Nilfgaard, but getting the elves to safety was her top priority, no matter who were safe for them.

Instead of keeping a hood over her head constantly, she had her hair colored a dirty blonde. She was getting used to not having people stare at her when she passed, the feeling odd in her stomach, but it was a simple relief to not have to worry about herself when she already worried about thousands of elves each day. She did miss it, her hair, but for her safety, and Jaskier's, she kept it hidden through a weekly dying. She cut her hair shorter, and kept a lower profile, no longer taking as large of jobs as she used to to gain coin. Still, she practiced with the sword and the dagger every night, honing her abilities. However, sadness struck her when she realized that Windchaser was no longer happy in her company. With nowhere to go, the mare was becoming solemn, and Y/n could sense it. She found no joy in staying in her stable for long periods of time, only going out when needed, which was rare. So, to rid the mare of the pain, Y/n sold her to a good home.

She wondered what became of Geralt every now and again. Was he looking for her like she made to? Did he forget about her, or simply leave her there to rid himself of an unwanted thorn in his side? She knew he would never do that, but the dark thoughts entered her mind anyway, wondering why Geralt would have left her alone. She remained strong during the day, but at night, she would often silently weep until she realized that tears would bring her no answers.

Jaskier knew of her sorrows. How could he not? Y/n had been by Geralt's side for most of her life. He saved her, only to abandon her. Jaskier's own anger at Geralt was pushed aside whenever she needed a comfort. A simple hug or a talk here and there would set her right once again. She didn't realize what these small moments would lead to. Before they met once again, they both had pushed their emotions deep inside themselves, looking to never allow them to reemerge should the object of their sorrows be nowhere near. But now, the moments they spent together only brought those feelings back. A slight touch on the hand, or a lingering presence when they need not to linger, or even just a simple glance at the right moment was enough to set them both on a path they thought long forgotten.

Y/n first realized she was falling in love with Jaskier when she watched him perform Her Sweet Kiss for what seemed like the thousandth time she had heard it. She didn't know what was so special about this time, but watching him walk through the tavern, singing a song made for the heartbreak she left him in during this particular night, when they had no elves behind their walls, made her heart weak. Watching him flirt with the women around him as he sang brought pain to her heart, seeing the women touch him, take him, try to kiss him. It didn't bother her before, well not as bad as it did now, but on this night, her anger and sorrow mixed as she glared at the women, and longingly watched Jaskier step up onto a table and perform for the masses.

Jaskier realized he was falling in love with Y/n when he watched her speaking with a young elven child, just like the night she discovered he was the Sandpiper. She was just sitting there, talking to the young girl who sat on her lap as the mother watched carefully. She spoke of far off kingdoms she had been to where all were welcome, to magical beasts she had seen with her very eyes that challenged the stories people told of them. He stood by, watching her as she spoke, and a sudden gust of warmth emerged in his chest as he did. Jaskier thought himself to be getting ill, until he kept looking at her, unable to turn his eyes away. The way she spoke to the young girl was as if she was her own child, and he wondered what she would be like as a mother. The thought startled him at first, but he grew to cherish the thought, until she set the girl down and came back to him, startling him out of his fantasies.