Splash.
The water pours out of the wood bucket, falling over Geralt's hair and onto his body. The selkimore guts, now floating in the tub, the stench not nearly as burning as it had been previously. Like a dog, he shakes his head, droplets of water hitting the walls and Visenya. Without moving her gaze from the novel in hand, she wipes it away, turning the page immediately after.
"Could you be a dear Jane, and grab me more of that soap?" Jaskier asks, setting the bucket down on the ground, wipes away the water on his forehead, and pushes his puffed sleeves to cuff around his elbow.
"No."
Flick.
"Isn't she just lovely, and so helpful too?" Jaskier exclaims, sticky sarcasm coating each word like honey as he glides across the room, only two paces away from Visenay's left side. He reaches up, standing on the tips of his toes- despite the shelf being within comfortable reach - and grabs a bar of soap, a distinct lavender scent following it. He twirls, like a dancer on a stage, his large sleeves lightly smacking Visenya's cheek. She reaches up to swat him with the palm of her hand, but he's already danced away from her, twirling and spinning his way back to Geralt.
"Oh I'm helpful alright, I help you empty your coin purse." she mutters, pursing her lips into a tight line.
Flick.
Geralt snorts, a smirk on his lips as he watches Visenya, his amber eyes practically glowing in the dim light. Their eyes meet for a second before Visenya snaps her gaze back to the book.
"You know, maybe the two of you should travel together, you're both so angry, like a pair of old people - you moreso, Geralt." Jaskier says, his tone similar to that of a spoiled child groaning about not getting its way. "At least Jane cracks a joke and a smile once in a while." He picks up the wooden bucket, filling it with clean water.
Geralt grunts, glaring at Jaskier, his white hair slick against his face; Visenya just shows Jaskier her middle finger.
Flick. There's only ten pages of the book left, yet Visenya can't remember the name of the leads in the story..., or even it's plot.
"Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest."
Water hits Geralt from above, his hair nearly clean of monster innards as they get washed away from him. The water pooling in the tub ripples, small waves flying out as new water takes its place. Instead of shaking his head, Geralt scrubs at his face, nearly growling as he does so.
"It is one night, body guarding your best friend in the whole wide world, how hard could it be." Jaskier says, turning around, and tosses the diary rag from his hand onto a bench, before circling around the tub until he's standing on the opposite side of his previous spot.
"I'm not your friend."
"Oh, so you normally let strangers rub chamomile on your lovely bottom?" Jaskier's tone is teasing, a smirk on his lips.
Geralt turns towards Jaskier, arms on the side of the tub, lips set in a thin line with eyes burning like hot coals.
Visenya bites her lip, and despite her desperate attempt to hide the smile that's pulling at the corners of her mouth, laughter escapes from her tightly pressed lips. Immediately after, she coughs, a fragile and ill attempt to disguise the noise. Even a mute with a bad left eye however would see through the coverup. Jaskier turns and meets Visenya's gaze, flashing her a wink before looking away.
"Right, that's what I thought."
"I thought you were paying Jane to make sure you don't get stabbed or robbed?" Geralt asks, tone low and raspy.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Dragon | The Witcher
Fanfiction"With Fire and Blood." ~~~ In which Geralt finds himself bound to another exiled princess.
