The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Fifteen

Dol Blathanna, 1240

"Reading between the lines, chum," Jaskier prattled on thoughtfully, "I'd say you've got a bit of an... image problem. Robin softens you up, obviously, but no one seems to know about her, so that's not particularly helpful at the moment."

"We haven't known each other that long," Robin chimed in from her spot in front of Geralt.

Jaskier was walking, but Geralt and Robin were both still riding Roach. The bard was currently making the case for him being allowed to go on Geralt's actual hunt, which the witcher had strictly forbidden. Robin had acquiesced easily enough, already used to Geralt's mandates, but Jaskier was insistent.

"Were I to join you on this... feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could relieve you of that image. Everyone would sing your praises because of the tale, and Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, would be a hero, not a pariah."

"Butcher was right," Geralt grunted, recalling Jaskier's earlier comment at the inn.

Robin tipped her head back and looked at him disapprovingly.

"What?" he protested. "Your brother talks too much, and he has delusions of grandeur."

"I'm aware," Robin replied. "And yes, one song isn't going to change everyone's opinion, but it can't hurt. I think you're being far too hard on yourself, Geralt."

"You don't know what happened in Blaviken," he said shortly.

"Well, I would if you'd tell me sometime," she pointed out. "I know that all of the stories floating around are inaccurate, because they're all too bloody different. Nobody can get it right, apparently."

"I can!" Jaskier sang beside them. "Seriously, do you mind if I hop up there with you? It's just I'm not really wearing the right kind of footwear..."

As Jaskier reached out and touched the horse, Geralt snapped, "Don't touch Roach!"

Jaskier flinched away and Robin winced. The moment quickly passed as Jaskier told a joke. "I get it. Only people who have touched your cock can touch your horse. I could have touched your cock if I'd gotten to you first."

Robin snorted her laughter, muffling the noise with her hand as Geralt rolled his eyes. "You are encouraging him," he chastised her, "and you are far too annoying," he informed Jaskier. "I would never let you near my cock."

She laughed harder as Jaskier placed his hand on his chest and acted offended. "Well, at least he's not a prude, dear sister. He didn't say I couldn't touch his cock because I'm a man."

Geralt groaned softly and tightened an arm around Robin, holding her firmly against him so she wouldn't literally fall off of the horse because she was laughing so hard.

At the very least, he loved the sound of her laughter. He'd never seen her as happy as she was right now. Which disappointed him more than a little, truthfully. He wanted to be what made her happiest.

But this was her brother. He could hardly begrudge her that. He had no idea what it was like to have a family member who loved him, but he couldn't deny her that now that she'd found it again.

He also knew she was right. Personally, he thought her brother was an idiot. He was surprised he'd survived this long on his own. He'd fare much better with them, and that would give Robin peace of mind.

He briefly wondered how he'd come to this point. All it had taken was one amazingly beautiful and utterly confusing mage to fall from the sky and he had two traveling companions. He'd gone decades with no one at all by his side, and now he practically had a circus.