I am a simple woman, and I am in love with the idea that Geralt sees the Reader who is calm and sweet and smol falling for Jaskier and is like "Ah yes, a stabilizing factor" and then the first time someone talks shit she just fuckin eviscerates them and starts a bar brawl and Jaskier is playing fight music or some shit and cheering her on and he realizes that no, actually, his problems have multiplied.
It's been a few months since Geralt and Jaskier stumbled across you, in Jaskier's case quite literally, on market day in Epona Square and you've not left their side since.
It had been an instant attraction between you and the bard, but at first Geralt had been hesitant to allow you to come along with them but you slowly wormed your way into his heart with your gentle and mild mannered disposition and soft spoken words. Jaskier seemed a lot calmer with you around which was an added bonus and as the days became weeks became months he found himself growing ever more fond of your company and grateful for the balance it brought.
Oh how foolish he had been.
"Say that again you degenerate, I fucking dare you"
You're stood on a bar stool waving something around dangerously as you yell, your eyes trained on the offending patron who's backing up with his hands in front of him.
"1, 2, 3, 4" Jaskier calls from the other side of the room before violently strumming on his lute in what can only be described as a war cry, and it's the last thing he hears before the place explodes in chaos.
Plates are thrown around the room, exploding in jagged edges and sharp fragments, drinks are spilt, insults fly followed by fists, and at the center of it all he spots you still gunning for the 'degenerate' who'd enraged you so much.
Jaskier is grinning like a mad man as he dances round the edge of the room, agile enough to dodge any projectile that heads his way, still strumming and singing as he weaves. At least the smug smile falls from his face when he spots Geralt through the crowd, knowing he's in trouble the second their eyes meet.
It doesn't take long for Geralt to make his way through the crowd to get to you, despite the apparent riot you'd incited the people still part when they see him, and before you know it he's grabbing you by the scruff of your dress and pulling you out of the tavern with Jaskier following in tow.
"Put me down Geralt!" you let out a huff of indignation at being manhandled by the Witcher before dusting yourself down.
"What the hell was that?"
"Oh, that little thing? The man insulted Jask's singing, mentioned the V word, so of course I had to defend his honour"
You look at Jaskier before leaning to whisper in Geralt's ear.
Jaskier's face contorts in rage at the words, perhaps you hadn't been as quiet as you'd thought, and Geralt lets out a defeated groan as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.
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