Mainly based on the Netflix series, with some knowledge used from the books and games.
Chased away from her home in which she'd poured her heart and soul into, by people only seeking to destroy for no bigger purpose than establishing reputation. Tha...
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When Myrcella groggily opened her eyes the next morning, it wasn't until Geralt spoke that she realised she had an arm lazily draped over his chest, her hand in his hair and a leg folded over his pelvis area. Her own cover had been thrown to the ground and she'd stolen most of his instead, leaving him rather exposed to the cold morning breeze seeping through the old windows. "Morning." Embarrassed by herself she rather quickly mumbled an apology before she quickly removed herself from him and got up from bed to put on some clothes.
When Myrcella lived in Highgarden, she and her brother always slept in the same bed, and when she got to the Continent after the attack, her brother's place was quickly taken by Renfri. Myrcella had always hated sleeping alone.
"Are you a prude, Myrcella of Highgarden?" Myrcella huffed amused as Geralt copied her own words from the evening before and used them against her. "Not even clo-" Myrcella was cut off as she turned around mid sentence to look over at Geralt. Geralt who had now gotten out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of pants. "Enjoying the view?" He asked watching as her cheeks turned red.
"No." Myrcella answered. Geralt huffed amused, shaking his head as Myrcella quickly darted out of the room. He could still feel the careful motion of her fingers playing with his hair in her sleep, and of her leg draped over his abdomen. There was truly nothing that could compare to the warmth of a woman's hands.
Geralt found himself wondering if she was aware that she talked in her sleep? He quickly decided not to bring it up unless she spoke about it herself. He'd noticed how she didn't really share unless he asked and even then, she still kept her cards close. Surely she didn't want him meddling in her affairs, and he didn't really feel the need to do it either, as long as it didn't become a problem.
After getting dressed, Geralt made his way down to the main room of the inn, only to find that it was already buzzing with life.
They'd slept in.
The Witcher looked over the sea of already drunken and whoring people, only to spot Myrcella in the far corner booth they'd also sat in the evening before. And she wasn't alone, because with one foot placed on the bench opposite of her and one on the floor as he played his lute, was a bard, serenading her.
Walking through the sea of people, Geralt took note of all of the men looking at Myrcella while the women in their lap desperately tried to get their attention. He also made sure to glare at the bard as he approached.
Upon Geralt's arrival to the table, the bard was quick to move away from Myrcella, though he still looked over at her frequently as he sang. "Got a new friend?" Geralt asked lifting a judging eyebrow at the bard as he sat down next to Myrcella.
"I don't think you need to worry, he went up to every female in here before he realised I was the only one without a male companion." Myrcella let out a small chuckle taking a sip of her morning ale. "–it's amazing how quickly this place turned into a fucking brothel." Geralt looked at Myrcella with a mix of amusement and surprise at her foul language. "You don't approve?" He questioned jokingly looking down at her.
