His Little Bird: Jaskier

Chapter 9

To be fair to Geralt, he was not lying when he said that Y/n smelled worse than he did when he was covered in selkiemore guts.

The woman had relented taking off the path to bathe herself, wanting to wait until they reached the next town over. However, Geralt was adamant on not letting her escape this time, for the next town over was still another week away. She knew she needed it too, but she never bathed while in the woods. She never knew what might be lurking behind the trees and bushes that surrounded her. She never wanted to take that risk. But Y/n only relented when even Jaskier had told her it was about time they all wash themselves clean.

So, finding a quiet spot away from the campsite they had set up, Y/n let out a sigh as she looked around at the small river that was set before her. It shimmered in the light of the sun, and was beautiful and clear to her eyes. Glancing to her sides once more, she carefully removed her hood and took off the cloak that laid on her shoulders, folding it and laying it on the bank of the river. Next followed her boots, then her trousers, then finally her shirt and the leather binds over it. She put them all together on the side of the river, before edging her feet closer to the water.

She stuck one toe in, shivering at the cold feeling. Taking a breath, she figured it would be better to jump in all at once than to slowly ease her way in. So, she put another foot into the water, before jumping forward towards the deeper part of the river where she was fully submerged. It was freezing, but she was slowly getting used to the chill of the water around her body. Lifting her head above the surface, she slicked her hair back away from her face, once again looking around the woods to make sure none were nearby.

Y/n soon realized that she should've taken up the offer to wash a long time ago, putting the thought in her mind to do it more often for her own sake. She washed her hair clean of the dirt and grime that accumulated over time, and washed her body of any and all the muck. She was already starting to feel better than she had in a long time. Her hair was no longer a dirty blonde, but back to it's original golden strands of shimmering light. It was somewhat ironic, considering that the mud in her hair had hid her true lineage from many towns back.

She didn't have any soaps or salts or anything to make her 'rosy fresh' as she would like, but the simple water of the river was enough for her right now. At the next town over, they'd be sure to get a nicer tavern room than the last one, considering that one didn't even have a place for them to bathe. Most likely, they didn't have a place for a witcher to bathe. The last town they went to was far more hateful of witchers, even if it was the great White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Turns out they were sometimes better off in the woods than in a town. Still, this didn't stop Jaskier from singing Toss A Coin To Your Witcher all throughout the time they were there, trying to turn to minds of the people about Geralt.

Y/n let a small smile grace her lips at the thought of the bard. She sat upon the bed of the river, just her shoulders and above peaking through the water as she kept some of these moments to herself. It was nice to be alone for once. Sure, she loved Geralt and enjoyed Jaskier's company, but every once and a while she needed to get away from the two men, especially when their manlike conduct and ego was far too overbearing for even her. Or when Geralt's annoyed grunts overpowered her ability to ignore the banter between them all. Jaskier certainly didn't make it easy for them to have a quiet stroll.

Sweet thoughts invaded her mind at Jaskier's mention. How he had managed to melt her heart ever so slightly was a mystery to her, but she couldn't help her grin widening as she thought of him. His songs, his wonderous songs, that always managed to get her up and out of her seat when he sang them. His boisterous personality that she didn't think she could live without now. His fluffy brown hair and baby blue eyes that always matched that of his attire, no matter the color he wore. If he weren't human, he'd be some manner of siren as she was. But the purest of sirens there ever could be. His words flowed through her head as she settled deeper into the water.