His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 10

Once again, Geralt had Y/n sit on the outskirts as he handled the basilisk. Sure, she was there when they started, but after a nasty gash on her arm it dealt her, Geralt pushed her out of the way of a killing blow to her head. That was enough for him, sending her out to wait with Jaskier and the two men who charged their killing of the beast. She heard the telltale sign of Jaskier, strumming on his lute as he hummed a few verses to a song she never heard before. Probably something he was newly creating.

"I'm weak, my love, and I am wanting. If this is the path I must trudge," she heard him sing as she walked out, holding her hand over her arm to ease the blood. "I'll welcome my sentence, give to you my penance. Gorgeous garrotter, jury, and judge... Lovely garrotter... Gorgeous garro... Which one do you prefer? 'Lovely'? 'Gorgeous'?" he asked the two men as they waited by Roach and Windchaser. "Is the whole metaphor landing, or is it too cerebral?"

As Y/n emerged from the cave, holding her arm, the men stalked up to her, obviously impatient with the handling of the basilisk. "Woman, it's been an hour. Have you taken care of it?" the taller, skinnier one asked her rudely.

She paid no heed to Jaskier hastily looking up at her and closing his book quickly as she spoke back, saying, "Complications ensued. I assure you, men, Geralt is handling it just fine."

"'Complications'. Bah. You mean a woman got in the way," the shorter, fatter lord said, making Y/n look at him with ire. Her hood was above her head, like always, but she almost considered removing it just to show these men what she was.

"Let's get on before the beast gets hungry again. No sense in payin' a woman for a job she didn't do," the skinnier one said, and started to take the money from Roach's saddle and put it on the shoulder of the fat lord.

"Hey, you son of a whore!" Y/n started forward, but her good arm was injured. She placed her sword against the man's neck. "Try it, I dare you, and you'll have no more worries about the beast in that cave."

"Bollocks- uh, yes. Listen to her," Jaskier half-heartedly added, scrambling up from his seat on the rock to try and aid Y/n's work. "Stop that, or we'll-"

"Or you'll what? Sing us to death? Bat your pretty eyelashes at us?" the skinny man said as he laughed at the half-siren holding the sword. He didn't think a woman could use such a weapon.

"Perhaps you did not hear them," a new voice said, and Y/n looked over in confusion to see a short man with a white beard and grey tinted temples step up to Jaskier's side. They had never seen him before.

"Yeah! Perhaps you didn't... Sorry, who are you?" Jaskier asked the man, who paid no heed to his question. However, his eyes were drawn completely from anything at the arrival of two, tall, dark skinned women dressed as warriors.

"Move along, old man," the skinny man said, and Y/n's sword dropped only slightly in confusion, giving the fatter lord the chance to push her to the side, hitting right on her bloody gash. She cried out in pain, but remained standing as the skinny man tried moving past the short man dressed in golden scales.

"Do as the bard and woman ask or I'll be forced to draw my weapons," the old man said, as if Y/n didn't already have a weapon drawn. The two women came around the sides of the skinny man, and they were certainly an intimidating presence.

"What weapons?" the skinny man asked, looking over the man with humor. "I see no steel 'ere."

The skinny man pushed the old man back into one of the women, but the other reacted quickly. She kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground, and quickly snapped his neck. Y/n watched wide-eyed while Jaskier let out a noise of surprise and looked away. "Steel won't be necessary," the woman sneered to the man's dead body.