After a week on the road with nothing but staling bread, foraged berries and the odd rabbit to eat, sleeping in the dirt and bathing in a cold lake or river if the location was deemed safe, a hot meal and room for the night was a welcome blessing for both of them. More for the bard who relished in the company of those around him than the Witcher who was more acclimatised to solitude, but even Witchers could use a good hearty stew and belly full of drink once in a while. Even Roach seemed pleased to be sheltered in the stables for a change, with a bucket full of oats and a couple off carrots.
Jaskier more than both his travel companions was glad to reach civilisation, he was in desperate need of a good hot meal, a nice warm bath filled with salts and oils and a reprieve for his poor aching feet. He was certain his blisters had blisters of their own from all the walking, honestly would it kill Geralt to share and let him have a turn on Roach. But most of all he was excited to share his songs and performance with a new audience, and engage in conversation where the other party gave more response than just grunts, curses or the odd two to four word sentence. There were days when even Roach seemed a better conversationalist than her master.
Needless to say the bard's mood had lifted significantly the moment they stepped into the small town only growing as they found it held both a tavern and an inn with stables. Renting a room and getting Roach set up and fed in the inn's stable had been their first order of business upon arrival, Geralt had then sugested looking for the local notice board for anything posted in his line of work. The sonneteer waving the idea off with a "Oh pish, there will be plenty of time for work tomorrow, right now the tavern is calling with its warm meals and refreshing drink within."
All thought of food immediately fled his mind however as his eyes roamed over the patrons gathered around the tables inside. There had to be two dozen at least, a rather impressive number for a Thursday? or is it Friday? evening crowed. His fingers were itching to fetch his lute from his back and strum her chords, his mind planning out which songs he'd play and what order as he made his way further into the room. Only snapping out of his musings when a strong hand griped him by the arm and dragged him to a table in one of the corners.
"Food first." Geralt ordered, herding him into the seat.
"Oh come on just one little ditty." Jaskier pouted, pulling the instrument over his shoulder so it wouldn't get squashed.
"No." The Witcher grunted, "Eat now, play later." Giving a firm order of "Stay." Before going to order said food.
He was up out of his seat lute in his hands the moment his plate was empty, with a quick warm up strum of her chords before setting into a long known popular jig to get his audience on side. Reviling in the crowds encouragement as he followed with an ode to the White Wolf, a ballad of love and a swift paced tale of danger and adventure. Something for everyone.
"Whoo! What a crowd, I think that was my best performance yet. So much energy tonight they were completely engaged, enamoured by my every word." Jaskier enthused energetically, arms stretched dramatically as he drew in the last of the dying cheers, as the bard dressed in the hues of sunset made his way back to the table in the corner Geralt was seated at. "I've never felt so pumped, so.. so alive! And more than a little frisky if we're being honest."
The face splitting grin on the bard's lips faltered a little as the Witcher rose from his seat with a grunt that clearly stated the younger had overshared. Ducking past the sonneteer and making his way to the tavern's counter to order another round of drinks, Jaskier put his hands on his hips sending the retreating Witcher a put upon look as he scoffed. "Oh... oh right, like you don't ever get in the mood. Don't think I didn't notice you sneak off into that leasure house in Oxenfurt that time and you practically turn all alpha in rut anytime Yennefer enters the same room as you. Oh, I've seen the way you look at her."
The glare he received as Geralt retook his seat and downed half a tankard of ale, had him swiftly raising his hands in surrender. "Look I'm just saying, a little rumpy pumpy might do you some good. Make you less broody for one." The look those golden eyes sent in reply was far from impressed. "No? Okay, fine, fine have it your way. Be a boring brute, enjoy your night of solitary brooding." He conceded with a wave, perking up again as his own cornflower blue's were drawn across the room.
"I on the other hand intend to make the most of this glorious night, current mood and inspiring crowd. There is an absolutely dazzling redhead over by the hearth that I think has been eyeing me off, I noticed her the moment we stepped through the door. Sure she looks a little work worn, very likely a farmer's daughter, but I think that just adds too her charm don't you. How do I look? More importantly how do I smell? I've not yet a chance to bathe." He rambled, leaving Geralt no room for answer despite his questions, as he gave his underarm a quick whiff. "...Not too bad considering. I think I'm going to try my luck. I should buy her a drink, what do you think, does she look like a woman of wine or ale? You're right I should just ask her, wouldn't want to buy her something she's no taste for."
He slicked his fringe across his forhead in its usual side-swept manner, looking over his shoulder at the Witcher with a goofy hopeful grin and a "Wish me luck." before starting across the room. Only making it a couple of steps before he spun back to his broody friend with a wink, "Oh, and Geralt, don't wait up." and with that he continued on his course across the room.
Jaskier wiped his palms on his jacket -they were feeling a little damp- as he strolled over to the fireplace, pretending his interest had lay in the varying adornments atop it. An carved cow horn and old decorative platter among other things, subtly glancing her way out of the corner of his eye to make sure she hadn't retreated. To his surprise it was she who stepped closer making the first move, speaking in a warm honeyed voice.
"I liked your performance, you have a very lovely voice." There was a soft smile on her face as he turned to face her, the flickering firelight making the freckles on her face stand out even more up close.
"Th-thank you." He stuttered out, a little caught off guard by the flattery. The response he'd gathered from the crowd tonight had definitely been a grand leap from the jeers, stale bread and odd rotting tomato he'd once received in taverns. "And you have very beautiful eyes, like pooling puddles after a late summers-"
In an instant the maiden's smile turned to a cringe. "Puddles."
He was loosing her.
"Yes-No! No, no n-not puddles, I-I'm... I'm not in any way saying your eyes are like... like mud." Jaskier floundered attempting to back track in panic. He let out a low drawn hiss and a wince at that rather pathetic failure, "Ooh, ah, yeah... that was, that was not at all like I'd played out in my head."
The little half giggle of amusement that escaped the redhead at his floundering however bolstered his enthusiasm granting him a second wind. "A second chance." He proposed, with a small hopeful smile. "If you'd grant me a second chance I'll buy you a drink and I promise upon my return I'll grace you with something far more poetic than puddles."
"Mettina Rosé." The female granted.
"Mettina Rosé coming right up." The bard sang with a flourished bow before heading for the counter.
Geralt watched as Jaskier crossed the room attempting to play it cool before devolving into a stuttering floundering mess. For some one who was so good with words when it came to his songs and poetry, he sure did a good job at butchering them when trying to flirt. How the young fool had managed to gain a reputation as a womaniser was beyond him, lest they perhaps took pitty on the bard or somehow found his stumbled flailing endearing. More likely that kicked puppy look he got whenever current company looked to be abandoning him. Either way, as cringed horror flash across the bard's face as Jaskier blabbered on about puddles and mud, Geralt turned his attention back to his drinks.
It was just too sad to watch.
The brightly dressed bard must have somehow found a way to spin things back in his favour however, as next time the Witcher looked over Jaskier was headed to the counter, a dopey excited grin on his face and sending a not so subtle thumbs up his way. Not really caring to hang around to see how thing's panned out for the poet, Geralt downed the last of his drink before standing. Planning to check the notice board for any monster contracts or interesting sounding posts, sometimes even warnings of strange howls in the night and mentions of missing sheep could lead to work. He'd check on Roach next before turning in for the night, maybe even make use of the bath.
Hair red and fierce as the flames that set my heart alight, and dusted cheeks like a myriad of twinkling pinpricks in the dark velvet night.
A simple trip to the tavern's counter to fetch the maiden her drink, wedged between two burly, kind of sweaty men was all he needed it would seem, to come up with the line that had won his beauty over. A few drinks, a tale or two of Geralt and his latest exploits, a couple more expressions of adoration on his part and a kiss or two later and she was leading him out the tavern doors. Tumbling into the brisk night air in a fit off giggles as they clung to each other, he couldn't even remember what they were laughing at but in that moment he really didn't care.
"This way, this way." She corralled in giggled hushed tones as she dragged him down the practically silent street by the arm.
"Why are we whispering, there is no one around?" He snickered back in an equally hushed tone, besides the old man they had passed laying passed out drunk on the side of the road everybody else seemed to be either tucked up in bed or still in the tavern.
She just responded with a snort of laughter, odds were she didn't know either. He puased then, stopping suddenly in his tracks as he realised he didn't even know her name. The sudden halt sent the woman off balance and Jaskier swiftly caught her around the waist to steady her. "Sorry, sorry." He apologised, before going on to say. "It has just occurred to me that I failed to introduce myself properly when we first met and didn't even think to ask your name. Which- which is very incredibly rude on my part."
Giving a far less elegant imitation of the flourished bow he had graced the woman earlier that night, that very nearly sent him to the dirt in his current state, he gave his belated introduction. "Julian Alfred Pankratz, but you can call me Jas-"
"Jaskier I know." She cut him short, before announcing herself as "Mildra."
For a passing moment something in his mind thought perhaps he should find it odd that she already knew his name. He didn't announce himself before playing, a habit likely kept from back when more times than not tavern crowds turned on him. He was once quite good at uniting people of all walks of life into a heckling mob of jeers and boos. Perhaps his reputation was begining to precede him or Geralt may have said his name at one point, he couldn't quite recall. Not that it mattered though the thought was soon gone, pushed aside as the possible love of his life wrapped herself around his arm once more.
"Mildra," The bard repeated, "a beautiful name for a very beautiful lady."
Another giggle and gentle pull as the ginger beauty coerced him along, "There we are properly acquainted, now come." And just like that the two were staggering down the road again, past the inn and its stables, across the street then past a few more houses.
"Not... not that I've complaints, but may I ask where we're going?" Jaskier thought to ask after a particularly uneven patch in the road sent him stumbling to his knees, another pearl of laughter erupting between them as the sudden drop had Mildra toppling into his chest. She found her feet much quicker than he did, his own feeling as shaky as a new born faun as she planted a chase kiss to his lips before starting them on their way again. Almost knocking him off his feet again as she sharply turn down a narrow path between two buildings.
A little pushy.
"I probably should have asked if you have a husband or even a boyfriend for that matter. I was so distracted by your fiery hair and your captivating... cap -cap... everything that, that I didn't think to ask. Because if you do and.. and if we are headed back to your house I should probably inform you that I have had some rather very unfriendly encounters with husbands before. So... if there's any chance one migh- whoa!" Jaskier's rambling were soon cut off as Mildra flung herself at him, the force sending him staggering back into the wall with enough force to knock the air from his lungs as her lips crashed against his.
Okay, very pushy, but he liked it. She wasn't scary chase-you-around-the-room-with-her-breasts-out-and-threaten-to-cut-parts-off-your-body pushy like Geralt's sorceress friend. She was more fun and exciting pushy. Something tickled at the back of his mind at the familiarity, but he paid it no heed. It certainly wasn't the first time things had gotten a little wild during one of his romances.
He did however eventually have to untangle himself from her enough that he could pry her off of him when the need for air became too much. Taking a moment to regain his breath before distancing himself just enough that they were no longer a complete tangle as he regretfully panted out. "Wh.. while I enjoy... a.. a good tussle in the dirt as much as any other man, I was kind of hoping for a bed tonight."
As much as he'd love to keep going as they were he wasn't sure this was the place for it, they could be spotted should someone passing by and he'd really rather not be set upon and chased down by an angry father or jealous suitor. No, groping and other more energetic activities were better suited someplace a little less public.
The smile that split Mildra's lips then was equally playful and dangerous as she asked in a seductively husky tone. "Dare to be adventurous?"
Those words sobered him up a little as the tickle in his mind from earlier came back threefold and he distanced himself a little more -well as much as one can with a wall against their back- eyes narrowing in confusion. Almost certain he'd been here before. There was just something strikingly familiar about this that he just couldn't put his finger on. He'd not been to these parts before and as far as he could recall he'd never met Mildra before either, surely he could not forget a woman with such fiery hair. And yet he somehow felt as though he stepped into something he shouldn't.
"There is something itchingly familiar about all this, should.. should I know you?" He breathed out, just now realising how cloaked in shadow they were in the narrow nook they stood in.
"Jogging some memories are we?" The woman crooned, though the tone was far from gentle. "You should do. You stole something extremely valuable from me you weaselly little thief."
"Whoa, hey, hey now. I think you have the wrong bard." Jaskier tried to reason, sliding a step to the side to try and shift away from the woman. Mildra however mirrored his move keeping him caged, the bard gave a nervous chuckle as he insisted, "I've never stolen anything in my life, I swear it on both my lute and my life. Except maybe bread but it was previously paid for and then pelted at me so technically it's not- not really stealing at aaalll-ooh-my-god!" His voice pitched embarrassingly high, eyes growing wide as the red haired beauty's features shifted and moulded anew, freckles fading into flawless honey skin and her fiery hair darkening to thick hazel waves.
That definitely sobered him up.