Reincarnation ➵ The Witcher

xliv.

EDITH could not think of a time she'd felt more glamorous. With the music playing in the background with the skirt of a dress following behind her figure, a grin sat across her face. Her dress was a royal blue, accompanied by earrings that hung comfortably. Geralt looked annoyed at what the bard had organized, but she felt happiness that mirrored the atmosphere. Her feet urged her to stray away from the pair to dance in her slight heeled shoes, her eyes darting around the place in wonder. However, Geralt never looked so grumpy in his life.

The attire he wore matched Edith's in colour, and he would look like a rich middle class man if his golden eyes didn't scream difference. His hand was wrapped around Edith's elbow, pulling her distracted gaze after Jaskier.

"Right, so stick close to me, look mean, and pretend you're a mute." Jaskier ordered to Geralt, before turning to address a distracted Edith afterwards, "And you, pretend to be my date or something."

She rolled her eyes, "In your dreams, Swine." She turned back to the ashen haired man, offering him a teasing smile bashfully, "No maidens, remember?"

"Hm." He rasped in reply, despite having not having any plans for any maidens that wasn't the small, annoying brunette, anyway. He knew she was teasing him, but this did nothing to take away from the feat.

"Geralt of Rivia, the mighty Witcher!" A man called to them, glass of ale raised in the air and his voice slightly slurred. Edith could already tell Jaskier's plan had gone out the window, and she glanced around at all the ale and wine decorating the place.

"Oh, shit." Jaskier whispered, and Edith used her other elbow to nudge him in mirth. She watched silently as the man clad in golden attire approached them, brown locks loosened that was supported with a slight beard. Geralt gazed at him, hands removing themself from Edith in reluctance. She slightly frowned at this, instead taking a small step closer to him in return.

"I haven't seen you since the plague." The man stopped infront of them, and Geralt regarded his presence.

"Good times, Mousesack."

Mousesack laughed at the reply, alcohol drooping his features slightly, "I've missed your sour complexion. I feared this would be a dull affair, but now the White Wolf is here, perhaps all is not lost."

He approached Geralt further, gesturing to his blue jacket, "Why are you dressed as a sad silk trader?" Geralt looked behind him to Jaskier, and the man seemed to get the message.

Jaskier noticed their stares, Edith standing comfortably beside him as they repetitively elbowed eachother, "What?" He questioned in confusion, and the pair of them watched as Mousesack pulled Geralt in the opposite direction.

"Come with me."

Edith sighed at their retreating figures, a crowd of men sat at a table cheering Mousesack's name shortly afterwards.

"What am I suppose to do now?" Jaskier exclaimed, "My bodyguards left, and now I'm stuck with a girl who has bones rather than muscle on her arms, no offence by the way, who couldn't even lift a sword if she tried!"

Edith laughed at his annoyance, "Saying 'no offence' doesn't take away the brashness of your words, idiot. Besides, I'd probably do a better job than you."

Jaskier attempted to retort to her words, instead being interrupted by a shorter man trying to intimidate the bard by backing him up into the wall behind him. Edith stayed slightly back, but was prepared to jump in if he resorted to violence.

"Something about you reminds me of a scoundrel I once saw fleeing from my wife's chambers!" The shorter man began, and Edith couldn't help but think that the bard probably deserved what was coming.

"Um, well--"

"Drop your trousers." The grey haired man ordered, and Jaskier watched him in confusion. Edith raised a surprised eyebrow at his words, but he continued, "I didn't get a proper look at the little shit's face, but that pimply arse I'd remember anywhere."

An uncontrollable laugh escaped Edith in loud volume, and the man turned to address her lurking figure instead, "What are you loitering for? Scram! Mind your own business."

Edith's laughs silenced, and he turned around with a roll of his eyes at the girl's stubborn irises gleaming down at him. She did in fact not 'scram', instead she stayed in case Jaskier needed any help fleeing from this man. Sure, she had no muscle, but she could run like a hare if she needed to.

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