Fanfics from Ao3 - Private

What You Hear (Is Not Silence) - stardust_and_sunlight

The longer Geralt spent travelling with Jaskier, the less he felt like he understood the bard. Jaskier had his own flourishing life that he lived, and yet when he bumped into Geralt, he seemed more than happy to drop everything and realign his plans to match Geralt's. He had no skill with a weapon, no way to defend himself, and yet he followed Geralt into dangerous situations constantly. He whined and complained about the walking and the hills, and yet he wrote songs about Geralt's achievements that had spread halfway around the Continent within five years. He griped if he got a single mark on one of his nice doublets, and yet he never shied away from the mess of a monster's corpse, often helping Geralt butcher it for the parts that would sell.

So, when Geralt appeared in front of where Jaskier was sat, dozing, away from the action, and the bard made a horrified face, Geralt knew that he definitely looked awful.

"For fuck's sake, what did you do? Bathe in its guts?" he said, scrambling to his feet, still looking aghast.

Geralt hummed non-commitally. It wasn't too far from the truth. An easy blow to the wyvern's wings so it couldn't fly had been followed by a hard slice to disable its lethal stinger, and he had been entirely blindsided when it had got him by the ankle and dragged him through filthy, muddy, swampy waters for far too long before he'd managed to get his sword to its leg. When he'd finally been able to kill it, dripping with muck and furious at his own complacency, it had been with a wild swing across the abdomen while the creature had been looming over him.

He was absolutely covered in mud, blood and gore, and as he walked over to check on Roach, dragging the wyvern's head behind him, even the horse didn't seem overly pleased to see him.

"Alright," Jaskier said, lute already slung over his shoulder, "we're getting an inn tonight."

And Geralt had no complaints.

***

They both walked to the nearest town, Roach beside them with the creature's head tied to the saddle and dripping blood, and Jaskier chattered away on his usual post-excursion debrief, which as always consisted mostly of Jaskier asking increasingly detailed questions while Geralt answered either with an upward-lilting hum or a downward-lilting hum.

That was enough for Jaskier, now, after this long, and before they reached the town, he was already loosely strumming his lute and muttering lyrics under his breath, and he only focused on their surroundings when he seemed to remember the wyvern head.

"Oh, yeah, okay. So, you go sort all that out, and I'll get us sorted at the inn?"

Geralt nodded and turned toward the mayor's house. They had walked through here yesterday, and it was the mayor herself who had posted the reward.

There was no physician or healer around who had need of any of the other parts of the wyvern, and the effort needed to butcher and transport it wouldn't be worth it. All that the mayor had needed was proof of death, and so the head would suffice.

It was a surprisingly pleasant interaction. This mayor wasn't as squeamish as many others he'd met, looking over the wyvern with a satisfied air. Apparently, it had been affecting the town and its surroundings for quite some time, and she was more than glad to be rid of it. The mayor handed over the promised coin, along with extra for speed, and even offered to dispose of the wyvern's head for Geralt, who gladly took her up on her offer.

No doubt Roach was also happy to be relieved of the burden.

And so, with coin clinking in his pocket, Geralt asked the mayor to point him towards the inn, and led Roach along the street, hoping Jaskier had sorted them a room.

The bard was waiting outside the inn, looking very pleased with himself. It was a fairly large inn, nearer the outskirts of the town than was usual, and Jaskier gestured for someone to take Roach's reins. The boy was young, but he scratched at Roach's neck and whispered in her ear, and Geralt was happy enough to let him lead the horse towards the stables.