"Black Widow"

Prologue: I have been playing the games but am more familiar with the TV show. So, for now I am basing the characters within the fic from the TV adaptation. Alas, the books are sold out for the next 2 months. So here we are lol. Enjoy.

*I have edited the content of this chapter* hope you enjoy

Chapter 2

"You're quite good you know." She batted her eyes up at Jaskier, thick black lashes framing pools of blue. Her pupils dilated in the dim light of the bar suggesting romantic intention. She wore some makeup, but not a lot. Enough to keep a man wanting. She didn't need much. Jaskier was more than a match for her… His icy azure eyes beamed down at her in return. It would seem his focus had been misdirected as he relaxed himself against the nearest pillar, perfect. Blowing strands of amber hair out of his face he smiled charmingly at his supposedly intrepid fan. "Not everyone appreciates talent. But you my dear have the capacity for flair."

Kira pulled a coin from her bodice, sliding it against her bare flesh before placing it against her prey. "I appreciate a lot of things." With two fingers she dragged the coin down Jaskiers chest, her hand tracing between his muscles before she met the crook of his pant. Kira moaned gently as she pushed the coin into the pouch settled above his groin. Jaskier held his breath as he watched her dainty hands puzzled his coat with intent, he only looked up to realize the maiden was maintaining her eye contact with him. Jaskier shivered a moment, his words cheapening and his breath escaping him. "Would you like a drink, m'lady?"

"Of course." Kira knew what her eyes could do to a man, they were penetrating. She batted them again up at Jaskier with a wry smile, fully aware of her presence. "I'll have what you're having, Jaskier." She watched with amusement as the bard broke his concentration. For a moment his eyes fluttered, and he forced himself to turn away from her. They whirled so hard they rolled back into his head, and he regained himself only to give the "OK" symbol to Geralt, who was watching from across the bar. Geralt shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

Typical Jaskier. Always tempted to service Venus. Any trouble he seeks will be his burden to bear tonight.

Jaskier took this moment to regain himself, although he practically skipped to the bar. The bar ordered two glasses of wine and brought them back to Kira, handing one to her. Kira took the drink gladly and pressed it to her lips. "You my dear," Jaskier cooed, "Are breath taking." Kira sipped the wine, licking the remnants from her lips. Reminding herself not to drink too many, less she lose herself in the moment and forget herself.

"Enough about me…" Kira cleared her throat, catching herself. The maiden knew how men worked, they liked to talk about themselves. Honestly, it was the fastest way to their heart. She let Jaskier regale her of his travels and chose to remain silent. He barely noticed. Does he ever shut up? She had been through this a thousand times before, Jaskier was no different. Act confidently, she gushed and smiled at the bard locking eyes as though there was no one in the pub but the two of them. Although she was curious if the Witcher had noticed their conversation, she was certainly careful not to let that distract her from her goal. Compliment him, "A handsome poet such as yourself must be fighting off the maidens this evening." Jaskier swelled his chest with pride. It was reminiscent of a bird she noted, as she continued basting her prey with compliments. Clearly, she was making him feel masculine, self-assured, maybe even daring. Perfect. Kira smiled, her expression was warm, inviting.

"I didn't notice." Jaskier offered her a matching grin, he was playing the same game as Kira it would seem. She had heard many tales from many towns of Jaskier the bard. Philanthropist, womanizer… The tension between them was becoming palpable.

Jaskier knew if he played his cards right, he may get more out of his evening endeavours than anticipated. Sharing a warm bed with such an enchantress would be a luxury, and Kira was certainly the audience Jaskier well deserved. He enjoyed regaling her with acts of heroism and bravery. It had been months since someone appreciated his valour, his work, his art. And from experience, intimacy shared between a poet and his adoring fan was all the more… amorous.

"You're fearless." Kira let her hand gently brush Jaskiers forearm, holding its position only for a second. Long enough to express her intent.

"I am, aren't I?" Jaskier stumbled over his words, something he did not commonly do. He swallowed the lump in his throat and suddenly his eyes gleamed from assurance to uncertainty. Although Kira seemed like a sure thing for Jaskier he could not help himself but to feel entranced by her. Those blue eyes were bewitching, and her hands were hot against his coat. He felt himself yearning, begging for her to rip through his clothing and touch his bare flesh. It was growing late; the cold summers night was threatening to become a cold summers morning. "Um, would you like to accompany me?"

"Finally." Kira scoffed, grasping Jaskier's surcoat and pulling him closer to her with force. Their bodies jerked together, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her bosom. She pressed her lips into his and kissed him as passionately as she could, as though she had been waiting, wanting all night long. Time to seal this deal. Jaskier's fingers became week and the wine glass slipped from his hands out of excitement. He only paused a moment in shock before making a sweeping romantic gesture. Jaskier wrapped one arm around her torso and pulled her even closer, his skin flushed with fervour, an intensity he had not felt years. There kiss was electric, sparks tickled his lips, and he felt his breath holding against him. "Alright!" He nodded rapidly. That was obviously his cue, "follow me." He grasped Kira's petite hand in his and dramatically whisked her out of the bar and into the stillness of the night.

The lamplight made for the perfect stop, Jaskier embraced Kira tightly sliding his arms down her waist to caress her firm buttock. With eagerness he pulled her closer, almost on top of him. Their kiss deepened, her delicate hands draped themselves over Jaskier's shoulder, caressing his neck and trailing down his chest. She pushed him away and laughed delightedly, turning from the bard Kira hoisted up her skirt, barring her legs to the crisp nights air and began running in the direction of the inn. Jaskier stood back, taking her in for a moment, and then with enthusiasm he gave in to his lust and chased after her. The two barely made it through the doors before Jaskier started wrestling off his boots.

"Wine?" Kira asked, stepping to the table where two glasses awaited them. Jaskier was already away with his boots and unbuttoning his surcoat eagerly.

"I insist!" Jaskier cheered, momentarily getting stuck in his doublet.

Kira let him struggle behind her while she fished out a jar from between her breasts, popping the cork off the top and pouring it into one glass without notice from her companion. As she finished pouring, she turned to see Jaskier topless, breathless and his hair rather disheveled. Kira paid no mind and he played it off with a confident smirk, tossing the clothing into the corner of the room. Kira took a sip of her wine as she moved closer to Jaskier, her body ebbing, flowing, tempting him. The mysterious maiden held the pint up to Jaskiers mouth insistently, he parted his lips as she poured the beverage into his mouth. A moment of seduction. This has the makings of my greatest ballad yet… He swallowed as wine trickled down his chin. Jaskier felt his heart pounding in his chest. Kira placed the glass to his mouth once more and had him drink again before she tossed the chalice against the wall carelessly. He felt his fast-beating heart skip for a moment when something suddenly changed in Kira's eyes. The maiden paused taking her own glass and chugged back the entirety of the wine before gasping for air. Kira laughed and tossed the cup aside as she had so carelessly thrown the other and looked at Jaskier with devilish intent. Her hands tightly grasped Jaskiers arms, almost piercing as she kneed him against the groin forcing him backward and onto the bed. Jaskier thumped down hard atop the bed and laughed awkwardly but cleared his throat and attempted to regain himself. Her demeanour had changed, there was something more terrifying about her now. Kira's eyes darkened hungrily; her presence filled the room. "Wait." Jaskier raised his hand to slow down but Kira did not wait, she grabbed Jaskier's hand and pushed his body back into the bed frame, straddling him with her legs. Jaskiers torso hit the bed frame hard and he cried out in shock. Aggressively Kira took his hair in her hand and pulled his head to the side, licking her tongue from his collarbone to his ear. Suddenly something in Jaskier started to stiffen.

… Not that. Jaskier felt his body tighten, freeze. He couldn't move. Oh fuck.

"Jaskier…" She pined into his ear, "Why have you stopped?" Now that Jaskier was no longer moving beneath her frame Kira sat back to look at her helpless prey. "Oh," she pouted, "Cat got your tongue?" Suddenly she bore no resemblance to the sweet, innocent maiden Jaskier met in the bar. She was… She was, terrifying. "Don't try to move." Kira lifted her leg over Jaskier's lap and gathered herself, standing next to the bed and taking in her surroundings with a breath.

It was a rather small inn, and the room was dark, no windows would allow prying eyes to see them. Water sat in a basin next to the flickering fireplace warming itself in preparation for its guests. "Nightshade." She declared looking back at the bard matter of-factly, he was cemented in place. Jaskier blinked coldly back at her, unable to move even an inch. "Oh, don't look at me like that." Kira rolled her eyes and turned back to face him, returning momentarily to her roll as the innocent flirtatious devotee. She let her fingers dance down her bodice seductively until she found the tie to release its corset, "You wanted to take full advantage of this… didn't you? Naughty boy." Kira smiled coyly as she pulled the string and stripped her bodice away.

Jaskier's breath worsened as he began to panic, he was unable to move, unable to defend himself and very uncertain of his fate. Surely Geralt would find him before… Before what? What does she want? There was nothing he could do.

"Ugh," Kira traced her hand along her neck soothing herself. A thin white chemise barely covering her body. Suddenly she seemed very uninterested in the bard. If Jaskier wasn't terrified, he might enjoy the sight of her breasts through the loose fabric. Kira did not stop at her corset, she began to remove her skirt and released herself from the rest of her constricting clothing. With an exhale of pure relief, she tip-toed to the fireplace and opened the cast iron pot, grabbing a sponge off the mantle and dipping it into the hot water. Her flesh was so cool that the water evaporated and steamed as she rang the sponge against it. "I haven't had a decent bath in days." Kira soaked herself, her wet clothing adhering to her feminine frame.

Whhhat is happening?

(Geralt) POV

Jaskier spun with a musical flourish, introducing his song:

When a humble Bard,

Graced a ride along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song

Jaskier winked into the crowd and strummed his lute, his forefinger indicated Geralt who as discussed, preferred to go unnoticed in the corner of the bar. Geralt did not move but noticed his fanfare rise, wide eyed with excitement. A Witcher. The White Wolf. In person. "Jaskier." Geralt grumbled, taking a drink. I'm going to kill him. This was his true intention. His barker. As though Geralt was some kind of sideshow, his main exhibition. Gratuity was all Jaskier was after. The selfish little… Geralt took another drink, blinking coldly into the crowd.

Jaskier would be paying his tab tonight, after all Geralt wasn't there out of kindness, but of service. The show finished and Jaskier came to greet Geralt with enthusiasm. "Not the best crowd tonight." Jaskier sighed, setting his lute at the table. The Witcher had no response. "Come on, couldn't you at least… LOOK like you give a monkey?" Jaskier pointed to his face and swiped his hands out with a smile, "Show some teeth. Your fans await. All the North is singing the tales of Geralt of Rivia! You're welcome."

"I prefer to drink alone."

"Oh, come off it." Jaskier huffed dramatically, "I need the coin." Jaskier adjusted his coat and brushed his hand through his hair, pulling his bangs aside and taking a deep breath. "Time to do what I do best."

"What that?" Geralt hissed.

"I don't know. That's probably why I'm so good at it…" with that his friend whisked away into the crowd. Geralt kept an eye on him, the bard tended to get himself into trouble, although he wasn't sure why he cared. The crowd was starting to swarm like a plague of locust and Geralt was finding increasing discomfort as they gawked at him. It was distracting. Geralt sat with mute hostility as he finished his beer. Eventually Jaskier had made his way around the entire bar and seemed fixated on a golden-haired woman. She was beautiful, Geralt could admit. The Witcher watched them curiously for a moment, Jaskier seemed fervent, giving Geralt the "Ok." Idiot. He seemed to have chosen a different path for their evening. Typical Jaskier. Any trouble he seeks will be his burden to bear tonight. Geralt would find him in the morning.

Geralt, relieved that he could leave and escape this display of pomp and frill finished his mead and gathered their belongings. Perhaps he would pay for his own room and leave the bard to his… business.

(Return to the inn)

This was quickly becoming the worst night of his life. Jaskier was completely conscious but couldn't move. It was as though he was passing between a state of wakefulness and sleep, could this be a nightmare. The bard only hoped. Closing his eyes Jaskier tried to convince himself that Kira was only a whisper of his darkest fears while his body slept in paralysis. Opening his eyes again he could not help himself but to watch the maiden explore her body with a moist sponge from the fireplace, the water dripping off her fair skin. It wasn't exactly horrific; in fact, it was stimulating. Kira did not rush herself as she lathered her body in all the right places, taking time to clean her weathered skin before her inevitable escape. Jaskier choked, desperate to move. His breathing was hoarse, and his blood was rushing quickly from his head to his...

"You'll be fine." After a long silence Kira dropped the sponge on the floor with a thick splat. She curled her fingers through the knots in her hair, barely paying attention to the bard. It was as though she had done this a million times before. Kira allowed her clothes to dry as she examined the room, her control was evident callous and disinterested. Jaskier was helpless. Sadomasochist. How many men had fallen for her sick ruse? Kira paid no mind to her captive and let her hands trail over loose objects and fabrics inquisitively, looking for Jaskier's coin. Remembering he had worn his pouch about his waist Kira quickly found the crumpled pile of clothing that he had tossed aside and dug out from it what she needed. With a successful smile she tossed the coin pouch on the bed at Jaskiers feet. "Nightshade," Kira explained, "Is only temporary..." The maiden walked to her dry clothes and picking them up off the floor she began to redress herself, slowly. "It paralyzes the body, but not the mind." Turning back to the bard Kira pulled her corset over her arms and tightened the strings around her frame, finally looking at Jaskier as though she had been avoiding his gaze. Jaskier was just how she left him, stiff against the bedframe and eyes full of fear. Kira could admit that it brought her some joy, she was a dominating woman and enjoyed controlling men where it really hurt.

Kira took her time to finish dressing herself. Finally, as she clasped her hands around one of her boots a hidden dagger rolled from its sheath within it. For a moment Kira ignored the weapon and slid the knee-high pattens over her shins, fastening them tightly. When she had finished dressing the golden-haired temptress paused, glancing back to her prey a moment in contemplation before reaching for the weapon. It was a simple dagger, built for a woman. Small and easy to conceal on her person. Kira looked at the dagger as she played with it in her open hands, considering her options wisely. Slowly Kira stood up from the floor, taking a breath before she turned to face Jaskier. With resolve the thief walked toward the bed, hand on the hilt and blade pointing outward at the ready. Jaskier eyed the dagger with trepidation. "It was never about hurting you bard." Kira raised her leg to step on the bed, exposing her leg to the troubadour. Jaskier could only let out a moan in dismay, unable to defend himself if he tried. The blonde held eye contact and pulled up her skirt baring her thigh to him. In the same motion she slid the dagger into her boot centimeters away from her quarry. Jaskier's eyes seemed to relax, and he looked up at Kira. The thief kneeled forward onto the bed and sat next to Jaskier. Heat was emanating off his body and his breath caught in destitute, he was powerless. Kira dragged her finger up his leg as her eyes danced over his slender frame, knowing full well what she was going to do with him. "The nightshade will ware off by morning, my flower." Her chaotic eyes pierced his one more time before she leaned in and pressed her supple lips to his, Kira opened her mouth and kissed the bard in adoration. Savouring for a moment their embrace she whispered into his hear, cheek against cheek, her breath tickling the back of his neck. "By then I will be far from here."

Standing from the bed Kira gazed back only once, taking Jaskier's coin from his feet and placing it in her bodice before she escaped into the night. A thief was all she was not a murderer.

Shit. Geralt is going to kill me.