The Witcher (One shots)

Jaskiers Broken Lute

(Geralt x Jaskier)

It had been a long day. 

First, Geralt had not been able to sleep a wink last night, couldn't even sit still long enough to properly meditate. Jaskier was out with some lad he'd met in the tavern last night, so he couldn't even listen to Jaskier's steady heartbeat or the soft lul of his voice to fall asleep to. 

Then, he'd been called upon barely after dawn by the alderman's son to take up a contract for a griffin a few miles west of town. 
While he was exhausted and not happy with the prospect of downing a potion and killing a griffin, he was in need of good coin, having gone through a bit of a dry spell in contracts lately. Thankfully that didn't mean he starved himself for weeks at a time anymore, if his contracts were few and far between, he now had Jaskier to supply the coin with his performances. 

But, Jaskier had not returned that morning, apparently not caught by the lad's lover or god-forbid father, and stayed the night. Which, of course, was fine, the aching in Geralt's chest simply from the weight of his armour on top of his already tired body. Yes, that must be it. 

Despite the heaviness in his chest, he and Roach made quick work of getting to where the alderman had said the griffin was living, an old abandoned mine shaft, now grown well into the woods. 

Only there wasn't a griffin in the half-collapsed mine shaft, there were however two griffins hiding just behind the cavern, coming at him from each side and attacking before he had the chance to drink his potion, let alone pull his sword from its sheath. 
Griffin fights were never pretty, hardly ever easy, but two when you're not expecting them is just another layer to the task, exhausting himself with how often he had to switch between defending himself from one of them to attacking the other. 

Thankfully, one of them was quite young and went down far easier than the other, and his focus could be solely on incapacitating only one creature. While it wasn't easy, he did finish them off without any life-threatening injuries, a few scratches where claws had managed a swipe at him, and surely there'd be bruises where he'd been batted against the walls of the cave and thrown to the ground. 

Aching, tired, and growing increasingly frustrated by the alderman's lack of description that could have prepared him to fight two monsters instead of one, he chopped the head off of the larger griffin, wrapped it in a sack, and strapped it to Roach, apologizing for the stench and weight of it before nudging her into a swift pace, more than eager to get back to town and if he was feeling rather indulgent, back to bed. Hopefully, Jaskier would be there to help him out of his armour and eventually usher him into a bath, washing out his hair and tending to injuries that would be gone in hours either way. Maybe the day still could turn around. 

The alderman, with one look at the head he brought back, handed Geralt a little more than half of the promised fight, claiming he had no proof that there were actually two griffins, and Geralt was back quicker than he thought he would be so it must have been an easy fight. 
If it weren't for Jaskier's constant insistence not to hurt his image anymore, that alderman would be without his hands, but he didn't want to have to run from another town, didn't want Jaskier to be angry with him, so he took the coin and stomped away, leaving the griffin head to rot on that sorry man's desk. 

Finally, the inn was in sight, the scent of fire-roasted pork wafting out of the kitchens, the promise of a bed, and cold ale all sounded like heaven right now. 
First though, a quick lie in before he went down to collect dinner for himself and Jaskier.