Rare Encounters (Jaskier x f!witcher!reader)
A/N: hi guys…. I finished Fallout the tv show and it gave me that urge to write that I haven’t had in a while. Now fingers crossed that it works for the long run. Once I can get a good feel for the Fallout universe, my ass will 100% be writing fallout fics 😂
Warnings: nothing outside of canon
Summary: Jaskier meets his first female witcher.
“I swear, you all live like fucking pigs.” You grumbled as you picked up the empty tankards and bowls.
“Oh, just relax, Y/N.” Lambert spoke from across the room. He sat at a table with most of the other wolves as they told stories and carried on. “No one cares what this place looks like.”
“I do, as should you.” You placed the dirty dishes on to the end of one of the empty tables. “Who is going to be doing dishes tonight?”
All of the wolves diverted their eyes away from you.
“Oh come on, boys. It’s just dishes. You’ve done worse, I’m sure of it.”
“I’d rather gut an ekimorra than do house chores.” Coen shook his head.
“Alright. Well then, I’ll just choose for myself who will be the lucky one.”
“When are ya goin’ to get eaten by a cockatrice or something, Y/N?” The redhead wolf teased. “All this nagging you do is–,”
With a flick of your wrist and a sign of aard, Lambert was sent backwards off of the bench. You grinned just a little.
“You fucking–,” He signed aard back at you the second he was on his feet, but you were quick to sign quen, blocking his attack.
“Don’t start that this early in the winter, Lambert.” Vesemir scolded him as he moved to sit next to Coen.
“Me?” Lambert raised his brows. “She’s the one who started it!”
The doors to the keep opened, bringing in a rush of cold wind. You looked up to see Geralt, a man, and a girl walking in.
The wolves fell silent as Geralt pushed the hood off of his head. A fond smile came to his lips.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Lambert stood to his feet and took a few steps towards his brother. Coen followed.
“We thought you were dead, or lost.”
“Not yet.” Geralt embraced Coen first and then Lambert.
All the other wolves soon took their turn greeting their fellow witcher.
“Y/N.” He said your name fondly. “Glad to see you didn’t let Lambert get you killed on the path.”
“I about killed her myself a couple times.” Lambert glared at you. “She’s like having a second Vesemir around, except some how she’s worse!”
You gave him a shove away from you, rolling your eyes.
“That’s the last time I spend time with you on the path.” Your words were directed to Lambert while you gave Geralt a hug. “Now I have to spend the entire winter in this gods damned keep with him too.”
“Have you seen Eskel, Geralt?” Lambert returned to his seat.
“He’s not here?” Geralt furrowed his brow.
“Haven’t seen any sign of him.” Coen shook his head. “Usually he’s one of the first one’s here, but hasn’t made it this year.”
“Hmm.”
“Wolf. You’re home.” Vesemir was the last to greet the White Wolf.
“I had to make a few stops.” Geralt looked back to the girl and the man to his left.
Your eyes fell on her. Your medallion had trembled when she first entered the room and even now, you could still feel the chaos radiating off of her. She seemed curious, bright eyes taking in every witcher around her. Then she looked at you. You held her gaze, lifting your chin just a little in acknowledgement.
You turned to continue cleaning up the mess the wolves left behind as introductions were made between Geralt’s guests and the wolves.
“And who might she be?” Jaskier asked Geralt as you picked up an empty pitcher from the table the wolves sat at.
“Y/N here is the maid of the keep.” Lambert answered for you. His eyes followed you as you moved around the table, a little grin playing on his lips. “Helps keep everything all nice and clean for us men.”
You launched the pitcher at his head. He dodged to the side, nearly pushing Coen off of the bench in the process.
“You’re going to get yourself into trouble this winter, Lambert.” Vesemir warned him.
“This is Y/N.” Geralt introduced you properly. He and his guests took a seat at the table with the rest of the wolves. “She’s our sister.”
“Sister?” Ciri repeated, furrowing her brows. “As in a witcher?”
“It would seem that way.” You confirmed with a slight nod and a sigh.
“That’s absolutely amazing!” Jaskier exclaimed. “A lady witcher.”
“I think calling her a lady may be overselling it.” Coen snickered.
“Yeah, she ain’t no lady.” Lambert added.
You moved to lean in between him and Coen, reaching for an empty plate. As you were turning away from the table, you made sure to purposefully smack both of the wolves in the head with the plate.
“Fuck!”
“Why don’t you boys make yourselves useful and go do these dishes before they get out of hand?” You placed the bin of dirty dishes down in front of Coen.
They grumbled but decided not to fight it. If they did dishes now, they wouldn’t have to do them later. Or so they thought.
“You’ve never mentioned that you had a sister, Geralt.”
The White Wolf grumbled in his chest as he looked at his bard. It was a warning. He knew very well how Jaskier was with the opposite sex.
“Geralt doesn’t like to do such a thing.” You settled with sitting at the end of a bench at one of the tables. “I would take away all the spotlight from the grand White Wolf. If word got out about a lady witcher, why, the White Wolf wouldn’t be so exciting, now would he?”
Geralt rolled his eyes at you as he moved to the table that had a jug of ale and mugs. He poured himself a mug and then returned to sit across from you.
“If it wouldn’t be too much, I would absolutely love to hear more about you.” Jaskier sat down just beside Geralt. He leaned against the table with both hands and his voice oozed with excitement. “You see, I am a bard by trade. Perhaps you’ve heard some of my work.”
You gazed into his blue eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of your scarred lips.
“You’re a brave soul, bard.”
He smiled a bit bashfully, cheeks flushing light pink.
“Why, thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.” Geralt told him. His words made Jaskier’s smile drop.
“What? Of-Of course it was!”
“It was more of an observation, bard.” You said. “Not many could come to a witcher’s keep and ask a witcher to share her war stories just moments after meeting her.”
“Jaskier has no fear.” Geralt sighed.
“Well, I-I wouldn’t say that. I have plenty of fear.”
You smiled a little at the bard.
“How was the Path this year?” Geralt changed the subject. “I can’t imagine spending the whole year with Lambert was pleasant.”
“Oh, it was anything but pleasant.” You let out a small breath, scratching your fingertips over a groove in the wooden tabletop. “I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with spoons than spend that much time with him.”
Geralt chuckled a little.
“Y/N!” You heard Coen shout your name from the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, listening closely to what was going on.
Geralt furrowed his brows a little and tilted his head. He could also hear the roughhousing going on in the kitchen.
“Ah, fuck.” You grunted, pushing yourself to your feet.
“Is something wrong?” Jaskier asked you.
“My brothers are fools. Excuse me, bard. Princess.”
Jaskier watched as you crossed the room and disappeared behind a heavy wooden door. He didn’t realize he had been staring for too long until the White Wolf grumbled.
The bard turned his head to his traveling companion, brows falling and lips pressing together in a line as he found the witcher glaring at him.
“What?”
“Don’t think about it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You get that same look in your eye when we go to banquets. That same look has gotten you nearly killed for bedding the wrong woman.”
“Geralt! Have a little faith in me! That is your sister for crying out loud! I-I would— I would never—,”
“Unfortunately, I know you too well, Jaskier.”
Jaskier found himself looking back to the door you had disappeared through. A sheepish smile crossed his lips.
“She is rather stunning, isn’t she?”
“Jaskier.”
“It’s a compliment!”
Geralt shook his head.
“She will rip you to pieces.”
“Isn’t that the hope?” Jaskier grinned.
“Gross.” Ciri scrunched her nose up. She had been so quiet that Jaskier almost forgot that they were in the company of the young girl.
“Sorry, Ciri.”
***
You carried a mug in one hand as you left the kitchen. It had been a few hours since Geralt and his guests had arrived. By now, night had fallen on Kaer Morhen. Lambert was preparing a late dinner for everyone. Coen and Vesemir were fixing a fallen shelf in the library. Ciri was in the library reading through a few books to pass time.
Geralt and Jaskier were just getting back in from checking on the horses.
“So I see you changed your mind about your Child Surprise.” You spoke. Your voice reverberated off of the walls.
“Didn’t have much of a choice. Cintra was overtaken by Nilfgard. She has no one.”
“Well, now she has us.” You took a seat on a bench but kept your back to the table. Geralt and Jaskier sat the same way, with their backs to the table just across from you.
A door across the room creaked as it was opened. Being that the door was behind you, you had to turn your head and your upper half to be able to see Vesemir.
“Where’s Ciri?” Geralt asked him.
“Left her in the library. She seemed rather interested in an old beastiary.” Vesemir poured himself a mug of ale.
“To think we have a princess here in the walls of Kaer Morhen.” You shook your head, finishing off the last bit of your drink. “This winter is going to be an interesting one.”
“She isn’t the first princess here.” Geralt said. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked away.
“What does that mean?” Jaskier looked to Geralt for an explanation.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Vesemir took a seat next to you. “All that matters is we don’t try to kill each other this winter.”
“Lambert is at the very top of my list.” You told him. “The first chance I get, I’m going to suffocate him in his sleep.”
“Y/N.” Vesemir scolded.
“Where do you hail from, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you.
“Ard Carraigh, though that was more than a lifetime ago.” You looked down at your empty tankard.
The sound of the horses out in the stables made you turn your head towards the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what had them stirring.
“Something’s bothering the horses.” Geralt grunted.
“I will go see to it.” Vesemir sighed as he stood to his feet.
“Do you want one of us to come with you?” You asked him.
“No need. I don’t think it’s that much of a concern.”
You watched the old witcher leave through the heavy front door.
“I should go check on Ciri.” Geralt thought out loud.
“There can’t be too much she’d get into trouble with.” You said. “Nothing up there other than rats the size of a foal.”
“You’d be surprised with Ciri. She can find trouble out of thin air.” He stood up. “Don’t stir up any trouble while I’m gone, Jaskier.”
“You have too little faith in me, Geralt!”
The White Wolf rolled his eyes but said nothing as he walked away. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through a door that led to the rest of the keep.
“How long have you….” Jaskier trailed off, unsure of the right words to use. “Have you been a witcher long?”
“Are you asking my age, bard?”
“No, no! I’d never ask a lady such a thing.” He chuckled nervously. “I assume that if you have been a witcher for very long, I would have known about you. Or heard about you at some point in time.”
You stood up and moved seats, choosing instead to sit beside the bard. He shifted in his seat, clearly nervous by your sudden close presence.
“It’s been decades since I came here to Kaer Morhen.” You looked upwards to the high ceilings. “Before the sacking.”
”What was it like? Before the- Before the sacking?” Jaskier turned his head to you. He admired your side profile, blue eyes mapping out your facial features. The curve of your nose down to the shape of your lips.
Your attention was shifted to him. It was then that you noticed he was practically staring at your lips. You smiled a little, causing him to look up at your eyes. His cheeks turned pink and he chuckled nervously.
”My-My apologizes.”
”It was nothing grand.” You answered his question as you rose to your feet. “I need more drink. Would you like to come with me?”
”Yes.” Jaskier answered a little too quickly.
He followed behind you like a puppy. You looked over your shoulder to him, the twinkle in your eyes making his heart race. Gods, you were a beauty.
You pushed the door to the kitchen open but before Jaskier could follow you inside, Lambert and Coen were coming out.
“What are you doing, barker?” Coen asked.
“Just— I was just—,”
”Leave him alone, Coen.” You called from just inside the kitchen. Jaskier couldn’t see you because of the wall the two large witchers were forming, blocking you from him.
The boys laughed, their boisterous voices echoing throughout the room. Lambert clapped his hand down on Jaskier’s shoulder as they passed him. Jaskier was just a little confused.
”They are, uh, quite the pair, aren’t they?”
”A pair of jackasses is what they are.” You shook your head.
“Big brothers are like that. I have four.”
”Sounds horrendous.” You poured a second mug of ale and passed it to the bard. “Do you have any other siblings?”
”An older sister and a younger sister.”
”Seven children?” You raised your brows as you leaned against the wooden counter. “Yikes.”
”Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. He leaned against the counter beside you. “Always had a big family.”
”I was one of the last witchers to ever be made, so I suppose I’ve only ever had older brothers.” You took a sip of the ale. ”Couldn’t imagine it any other way. They irritate the piss out of me, but they’re my brothers.”
”They are good men.” Jaskier nodded. “Albeit, annoying. But good men.”
You found yourself gaze at the barker. He was stunning. Warm skin, dark curly hair, even darker eyelashes, and bright icy blue eyes that contrasted his features so nicely. He was a pleasure to gaze at.
The door to the kitchen opened and there stood Geralt.
Jaskier hurried to move, taking a step to the side to put space between himself and you.
“Ah, Geralt!”
The White Wolf offered a low grumble before he looked to you.
”Eskel is home. He doesn’t look good.”
“Is he okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows together. Your drink as discarded on the counter as you hurried to leave the kitchen.
”Vesemir has him in the infirmary.”
You slipped past the witcher and hurried away.
Geralt waited until your footsteps had disappeared down the staircase. Then he turned his attention to Jaskier. He crossed his arms over his chest, appearing even more intimidating than usual.
“Oh, come on, Geralt! Don’t look at me like that!”
”Y/N is—,”
”She is your sister! And you, you are my closest friend!” Jaskier moved to stand in front of Geralt. He placed his hands on Geralt’s biceps and attempted to shake the man but Geralt didn’t budge. “I wouldn’t dream of ever crossing you like that—,”
”Jaskier.” Geralt almost rolled his eyes. ”Get your hands off of me.”
”She is rather friendly though.” Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back as he slipped around the stocky witcher to leave the kitchen. “Very chatty too. Unlike you, you cranky old man.”
Geralt turned around to watch his friend as he started to walk away.
“Jaskier.”
”Yes, Geralt?” Jaskier turned on his toes to face him.
”Just be careful.”
The bard didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side just a bit.
“Uh, o-okay, Geralt.”
