A/N: I am fully aware that I have other stories to finish...and I would, but my muse is whispering about the Witcher now. More so the rather heart-squeezing crush I've developed on Joey Batey's Jaskier. He's sarcastic, funny, awkward and sincere in all the right places. How could I not write about him? Though lightweight - would not be opposed to seeing him and Geralt paired together on the show. The two of them are adorable... Please read, review and enjoy. I love hearing from you guys.

Disclaimer: I own what is mine.

The Rose and Pine

O' Valley of Plenty

Valley of Plenty...

The crowd of the Rose and Pine belted loudly as the Bard's lyrical strumming underscored the lighthearted air of the tavern. Lyrra shook her head and bit back a smile as she set down steins of ale and cups of wine before a few new arrivals. It was the largest crowd she had seen in weeks and she knew that it was in no small part due to the man currently entertaining Glynedol's lower masses and his conspicuously missing travel companion.

Glynedol was no stranger to road-weary travelers. The small town laid on the northern rim of Toussaint and generally acted as a respite for those heading into or out of the city proper. Most had barely batted an eye at the sight of the bard, it was the Witcher he traveled with that was the anomaly. There wasn't much call for his type in wine country. Especially not in the late summer months when the sky was clear and towns bustled with traders for the harvest season. Lately, those travelers and traders had been few and far between despite the late summer harvests Toussaint was undergoing for the last wines of the year. The Rose and Pine should have been raucous and crowded long before the bard and Witcher had arrived.

Biting back a frown, Lyrra flipped her tray from under her arm and gathered empty dishes left on the tables. She didn't have time to ponder the strangeness of late – work beckoned. Quite literally. She sighed quietly as she spied a hand raised for her attention. Turning, she slipped seamlessly between bodies and carried on the same routine she had been conducting for over two years. She took orders, served food and drink, bussed tables, and collected coin while returning flirtatious smiles with a polite quirk of her mouth or an offhand comment to those with whom she was more familiar. The routine settled her and it wasn't long before she managed to drown out the offkey singing or her customers.

It was perhaps because she had made herself selectively deaf that she didn't notice the boisterous choir return to a low roaring murmur. Or it could have been the hand latched tightly to her wrist that had distracted her from the general atmosphere.

"How much?"

Putrid breath made her eyes water as Lyrra took in the greasy man holding her captive. His leer left no vagueness to his question, still, she raised a brow and resisted the urge to yank her arm back, "For what?"

"You."

When his gripped tightened to pull her down onto his lap, she stiffened her legs and leaned back. Her foot rested on the leg of his stool and the sudden pressure downward made his seat wobble. He quickly lost his grip as he fought to keep his seat. To anyone looking it would merely seem as if a drunk too far into his cups lost his balance for a moment.

Lyrra took that moment to step away from his reach and smiled benignly at his scowl, "The brothel is across the road."

She stepped between tables before the letch had a chance to respond, intent on reaching the bar. Hillard was already placing her next order on a new tray.

"Now, that was clever." A dimly amused voice caught her ear.

Lyrra glanced over her shoulder to see the bard watching her with a curious smile. A faint flush painted his cheeks from his earlier performance, but it was the way his blue eyes seemed to twinkle that had her stomach suddenly twisting in knots. Oh no...

Lyrra blinked, "Sorry?"

"Your dismissal of the gentleman back there. Well, if one were to call him a gentleman, bit of a stretch if I may say so." The bard carried on as he leaned his lute against his thigh.

" ' Suppose..." Lyrra murmured quietly as she kept her gaze indifferent. She found her polite smile again as she asked, "Somethin' you need, dove?"

The bard's smile seemed to flicker as he tilted his head confusedly, "Uh ah, yes. A cup of wine when you have a moment."

"Course." She nodded already turning to gather her loaded tray.

"... And perhaps another for yourself. I'd appreciate the company." He smiled hopefully as she turned back to him abruptly, "Just conversation, I assure you."

Lyrra's found her mouth moving, but no sound emitting as she stared awkwardly at him. It wasn't often she was caught by surprise and even less often that she received such a civil offer from a man. He seemed to delight in her floundering as his smile quirked into a grin. It was the grin that kicked her brain back into gear even as she felt a blush crawling up her neck, "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding companionship tonight. You have a room full of admirers after your performance."

She firmly clenched her drink laden tray and moved to go about him, but the bard had other ideas as he quickly stepped into her path, "And were you one of them?... My admirer, that is?"

She eyed him cautiously as she tried to quell the vivacious butterflies his attention was giving her. He didn't seem dangerous...but still, "Look, sir."

"Jaskier." the Bard blurted with what she supposed was a roguish grin, though it appeared almost nervous, "My name is Jaskier...or dove. I didn't mind when you called me that."

A smile unwilling twitched at the corners of her lips, "Jaskier -"

"And your name?" He cut her off, attempting to look innocent for the crime.

She licked her lip and shook her head amused despite herself, "Lyrra."

"Lyrra." Jaskier uttered softly, his eyes dancing merrily, "Lovely...when you get a break Lyrra, please come sit with me."

She was so very tempted to say yes to him, if only to find out why he was doggedly interested in her, but still, she hesitated, "You've drawn quite a crowd tonight, sir bard. I'll be busy for a while yet. Should I have a spare moment... I may say hello."

"You will." A grin lit his features in triumph, he sounded so certain.

Lyrra sighed exasperated, "I might."

"Oh see, you're playing hard to get, but you can't fool me. You will."

She shouldn't find his smugness as attractive as she did. Lyrra huffed a quiet laugh and passed him a wine goblet from her tray, "I won't if I don't get back to work now."

Jaskier gracefully accepted the cup, his fingers lightly brushing hers as he stepped out of her way, "I'll wait for you with bated breath."

Lyrra merely shook her head at him again as she moved back to her customers. From time to time she could feel his eyes watching her as she worked, but she refused to let herself look back. He was rather attractive, but it was easy to become bewitched by pretty smiles and even prettier words and she was sure he knew them all...bards were supposed to. Still, she wasn't looking for a mere dalliance with a man who could sing about it from here to the Dragon Mountains. Unbidden, she glanced thoughtfully over to Jaskier and found him chatting amiably with a few of the town's folk. Her regulars actually... As if sensing her gaze, he turned in time to catch her eyes. A puckish smirk pulled at his lips at having caught her in observation and she blushed heavily as she quickly returned to work.

She did not flirt well.

Willing the color in her cheeks down, she glided back to the bar to drop off the last of the dishes she had collected. Hillard was waiting for her, an appraising gleam in his chocolate eyes, "You've the minstrel unda' yer spell, Lyrra."

Again, the blush rose to her cheeks, "Stop it."

"He speaks fancy...like you." Hillard smiled slyly as he watched her squirm and glared balefully at him, "Chased the kipper out that was a botherin' ya too."

Lyrra's brow arched incredulously, "Wha..?"

The bartender snorted, "Kept knockin' into and spillin' drinks on the sod till he left in a huff. Was a laugh. For a singa, he's crafty in 'is antics, but I saw 'im."

"Does he have your seal of approval, then?" Lyrra asked somewhat sarcastically as she snuck a glance at the bard from her periphery.

"Ehh, I dunno about tha...He does travel wit a witcha." Hillard replied with a shrug, "He doesn't seem ta bad though."

Lyrra rolled her eyes and handed over the coin she had collected. She was surprised when Hillard took the coin and her tray. He smirked at her before handing her a goblet of wine, "Go on. Go sit wit yer bard."

"Hillard!" Lyrra whispered in a scolding manner, feeling her cheeks burning again. "I still have tables."

Hillard waved her off, "Mirel can do 'em. She's been sittin' on her bum most o' ta night anyway. Go, his cup 'as already been topped off."

It didn't feel right to socialize with a customer when there was work to be done. Hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around the metal goblet and willed herself to move. Panic momentarily fluttered in her chest at the thought of approaching Jaskier like this...even if he was waiting for her to do so. Instead, she slipped onto a stool not even a foot from the bar to sip at the wine. She'd freely admit she was a coward at that moment, but there was no force on earth that would get her to move. Hillard shook his head at her before taking the dishes back to the washer and she breathed a sigh of relief at having his silent judgment disappear.

"You know," Jaskier drawled lowly behind her, making her tense, "This looks suspiciously like a break, but that can't be right." He moved around to stand before her, a goblet dangling from his hand as his eyes danced with muted amusement, "I'm rather sure we agreed that you'd be sitting, and hopefully conversing with me on your break. So, tell me, lovely Lyrra, are you blatantly standing me up?"

There was a brief silence as Lyrra fought to find her voice again, "I don't recall actually agreeing to anything. I said I might say hello... Hello."

"Oh, come on!" Jaskier goaded lightly as he slid into the stool across from her, "Am I really so horrid that you won't have a simple conversation with me? Do I have horns growing out of my head? Or oh, worse is there a smell I'm emitting?" He cringed to her bemusement as he pulled the collar of his doublet towards his nose, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that laundress not to put my clothes in the same tub as Geralt's. The stuff he comes cover back in is truly appalling."

An amused smile twitched at her lips as she watched his antics, "You don't smell...or if you do, I can't smell it from here."

Jaskier dropped his collar and tilted his head curiously at her, "Then why won't you sit with me?"

"We're sitting now." Lyrra pointed out, "Besides why do you want my company so badly?"

"The company of a beautiful lady? What kind of man would I be not to want that?" Jaskier murmured charmingly with a soft smile.

It was a very practiced line to Lyrra's ears, however. She smiled ruefully at him, "You know, you can easily find that company - "

"Across the road, at the brothel." Jaskier said with her.

Lyrra blinked and he grinned, "How'd I know you were going to say that? There's more than one way for a man to enjoy a woman's company, you know?"

She shook her head at him, "You're very strange."

"And you're intriguing." He shot back with a sip of his wine, only to sit up in alarm as she moved to stand, "Wha - wait, where are you going?"

Lyrra turned her goblet upside down to show him an empty glass. Her stomach was in butterflies again as his suddenly indecipherable gaze fell heavy on her, "Wine's gone. Which means my break is over. Goodnight, Jaskier."

"You don't play fair, Lyrra." Jaskier intoned sulkily and she bit back a smile as she realized he was pouting.

"I have no reason to play fair." Lyrra murmured back, "No, woman does."

An impish spark lit his azure orbs, "That's true. Can I walk you home? Once you're done that is."

She shook her head in answer and stepped away to find her tray again, his eyes burned into her back as she did so. Almost unwillingly she caught his gaze over her shoulder and sent him an impish smile of her own. Somehow, she didn't think the bard would be giving up on his conversation so easily