#watched cobbler again. i'm certainly not the first one to point these out but i will anyways

[otogariado]

2x02 "Cobbler" // 5x09 "Bad Choice Road" // 4x08 "Coushatta" // 5x07 "JMM"

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Two

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Or Dove...It was the low murmur of voices and the rather ominous thunking of feet on floorboards that woke Jaskier. For a dull moment, he thought Geralt had returned from... wherever the fuck he had flitted off to. To be honest, he hadn't paid much attention. After three weeks without a bed, a bath, or a decent meal for that matter – despite what Geralt thought he was not a culinary wizard – Jaskier had been far more focused on enjoying the simple pleasures of which he had been deprived and those pleasures did not include traipsing back out into the wild to find some Gods forsaken creature that could, quite possibly, rend him limb from bloody limb.

Opening blurry eyes, he cast about the room for the hulking form of his friend and frowned when he saw no one. It took longer than he would like to admit before he realized that the noise he was hearing was coming from outside his room. Sitting up, his head pulsed with a faint pain and he groaned, quietly remembering the amount of wine he had imbued the night before. He had to hand it to the Toussaint province when they set out to make wine. They made bloody good wine.

A soft yawn unfurled from his lips and he squinted almost peevishly at the light shining in through the window. It had to be a little before midday, his late-night had ensured that he had most certainly missed breakfast. Biting back another yawn, Jaskier slowly went about his usual morning ablutions. He had to admit it was rather nice not to have a pair of golden eyes silently observing his usual rituals, also a little lonely, but that was not something he wanted to dwell on too closely. He and Geralt had basically been living in each other's pockets lately, time apart was more than needed. And yet...

Jaskier sighed quietly as he finished dressing and headed for the door. He supposed that it was time for him to resurface to reality and sniff out whatever it was that had his companion traipsing through wine country. Hopefully, it was a search for a good bottle of Bordeaux, though unlikely. It didn't take long for him to find the inn empty of its keeper as he made his way outside, his stomach rumbling. The first point of order was to track down some food before he went in search of information. It was still a tad early for a midday meal, but he was sure he could find something at the local markets to nibble on.

...Well, market was a strong term he supposed as he looked about.

While Glynedol was not exactly a one-road town, it came rather close. It seemed the road that he and Geralt had come in on was the main road through the town. It had the inn, the tavern, and the brothel all within a few metres of each other. It looked like there was an apothecary not too far down, as well as a cobbler and smithy a little further from that. His stomach twisted with a faint nauseous hunger and Jaskier had to wonder why he hadn't seen any stalls set up for traders. It was harvest season, after all. Usually, vendors would be selling their wares at any small spit such as this little town. Frowning, he glanced about and realized that there weren't many people about either. He could understand most working the fields of their farms for the last bits of produce before autumn, but surely it was getting late enough and certainly warm enough in the day for more to be taking a break and heading into the local watering hole for a respite. It was all a bit... odd.

"Nigel, you can't keep doing this. Not with winter on the way."

Jaskier perked up as a familiar voice caught his attention. The barmaid. Lyrra. She might be willing to guide him about. His eyes quickly scanned the sides of the road but saw neither hide nor hair of her.

A low rumble seemed to answer her back and Jaskier found himself detouring down a side alley by the brothel. He turned a corner and found his lovely maiden knelt down before a slovenly mess of a man. With her back to him, he silently took in her form. Gone was the headscarf she had wrapped around her head the night prior and he could see luscious chestnut hair tethered in a loose braid. The loose frock and apron she wore as she had worked were replaced by a more form-fitting dress. It was simple in style, but he found he far preferred it to her other ensemble.

"What would Mae say if she saw you now?" Lyrra murmured softly as she tried to coax the man slumped against the wall to stand.

The man's hazy green eyes landed on Jaskier and the bard could tell that the man was drunker than a skunk. Still, he had enough wherewithal to nod at him, "Who's 'e?"

"Wh-?" Lyrra started to ask as she turned, obviously expecting no one as her soft grey eyes widen at the sight of Jaskier. She frowned slightly at him before plastering on a soft smile for the drunkard, "He's a bard. One that has a future as a thief with the way he sneaks about."

"I don't know if I'm offended or flattered by that comment." Jaskier muttered thoughtfully as he stepped up next to her, "Do I not get an introduction, as well?"

A flash of exasperation crossed her features and he hid a smile as she gestured down to her friend, "Jaskier, this is Nigel. Nigel, Jaskier. We'll be on our way now."

Jaskier smirked at her none too subtle hint to go away and glanced at Nigel. He wrinkled his nose and hummed, "Hmmm, will you though?"

Lyrra frowned and looked to see that Nigel had passed out during her introduction. A sigh of weariness escaped her as she knelt again to shake her friend awake with little luck. Jaskier raised a brow at her efforts, "Oh, leave him here, Lyrra. He can sleep it off in the alley just as easily a bed."

"He's been out here all night." She mumbled, her disapproving tone matching the glare she threw over her shoulder at him.

He shrugged, "And somehow he's been left alone... well, till you came along that is. Besides, he'll probably regret the state he is in now more if he were to wake up in a filthy alley than if he were to wake in a warm bed. Less likely for a repeat performance this way."

"That's rather unlikely." Lyrra uttered quietly as she patted the man's cheek, "Come on, Nigel. Just a few minutes and you can sleep again, dove."

"Always been my experience." Jaskier stated blandly as he continued to watch.

"And has it been your experience to drink yourself dumb to ease the pain of your wife's passing?" Lyrra questioned echoing his tone as she stood to face him, "Somehow, I think grief wins over discomfort."

"Ahh." Jaskier's amusement at the situation dropped as a tendril of remorse curled in his gut. Pity flared to life in his heart for the stranger as he resisted the urge to squirm under Lyrra's indifferent gaze. He sighed, "All right."

Jaskier quickly took up Lyrra's previous position before the grieving widower. His hand reached out and quickly found the hollow above the man's collar bone before pressing in and curling his finger over the bone with a decent amount of force. Nigel spasmed and jerked awake from the attack on his pressure point, green eyes wide in betrayed bafflement. Jaskier found he couldn't blame him for that look. Geralt had used that particular move on him enough that he was familiar with the sensation that had shot through Nigel's body. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was definitely not pleasurable. Quickly before Nigel had a chance to gather his bearings to slip back off again, Jaskier tugged his arm up and over his shoulders forcing the drunk to stand.

"Don't you dare throw up on me." The bard threatened with a wince as he finally caught wind of the noxious fumes of alcohol coming off the other man's body. Gods, if he hadn't fucking smelled last night, he surely did now. All this on an empty stomach too. He raised an expectant brow as Lyrra gawked at him, "Where to?"

She started slightly and waved a hand down the alley, "This way."

Jaskier grunted softly, channeling his inner Geralt as he half dragged Nigel down the alley. To his surprise, it really wasn't terribly far before they stopped again. He had been prepared to go a few blocks at least. Not less than fifteen metres or so. He was sure his brows were touching his hairline as he realized what door they were stopped in front of, "He's drunker than a fish in an ocean and you want to leave him in a brothel? I don't know if this man will love you or hate you for that."

A light flush suddenly coated her cheeks as she looked away embarrassed but still, she knocked at the wooden door. A second later the entry was thrown open and a stern older woman peered out. Jaskier tried not to cringe under her heavy stare, even as he quirked a small grin at her. It was a wonder this place got any business if men had to go through that battleaxe of a woman. Yet the moment she laid eyes on Lyrra she softened before peering more intently at the form now dangling into Jaskier's side.

"Again?"

Lyrra nodded quietly and the older woman sighed, "Come on, then."

She stepped aside and began to cluck like an old mother hen. Jaskier listened passively as she pestered Lyrra about being too kindhearted and reiterated a variant of what he had suggested earlier. Leave Nigel to whatever bed he made, essentially. As the drunk began to weigh more heavily on his shoulders, Jaskier was silently inclined to agree. In his periphery, he could see women in various states of undress as they moved down a hall lined with doors. Most ignored the small group, while a few waved at Lyrra and offered a sympathetic smile. He was sure it was the first time in his life he had ever been so soundly ignored by a group of whores. He itched with the desire to check his pockets and make sure his coin hadn't been lifted without his notice.

" 'Ere we are. Jus lay 'im on the bed, luv." The matron said stoutly with a nod forward.

Jaskier basically dropped the man once he was close enough and breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the sudden lack of weight.

"We got 'im now petal. Don't ya worry none."

Jaskier turned in time to catch Lyrra's grateful smile and the subtle palming of a few coins before he fell under the matron's stern glare. A ribald comment was poised on the tip of his tongue when he suddenly felt delicate fingers tugging him away and back outside. He eyed the woman before him with renewed curiosity, "Well, that was an adventure. You're welcome by the way."

Lyrra paused and gazed at him uncertainly for a moment before she offered him a rueful smile, "Thank you for helping."

Jaskier smiled faintly, "Yes, well who am I to deny a damsel in distress?"

He swore she rolled her eyes though her smile never diminished. She caught him by surprise though as she tilted her head curiously at him, "You seem to be coming to my rescue quite a bit it seems."

"Oh?" Jaskier questioned in confusion. His mind raced as he tried to place what other time he had come to her aid.

"Hillard told me you chased out the man who propositioned me last night." She reminded him quietly.

It was his turn to blush, as he felt an unfamiliar heat creep into his cheeks, "Oh er um... Your barkeep saw that, did he?"

Lyrra nodded, "He said you gave him a good laugh."

Well, that was something at least, Jaskier thought woefully, though silently relieved that his childish antics hadn't brought him scorn from either the lady or the barkeep.

"Though I do have to ask. Are you following me?"

Jaskier blinked and smirked, "Why? Do you want me to go? You wound me so, lovely Lyrra. Your attentions are rather hard-won. Especially, after lugging a man down an alley for you."

His eyes twinkled mischievously as she blushed and lightly scowled at him. It was fun to get a reaction from her. She shook her head in exasperation or amusement he wasn't sure which, perhaps both as she replied, "That wasn't what I meant and you know it. The tavern was one thing. I work at the Rose and Pine and you happened to be performing there. But now...?"

In truth, he hadn't been looking for her. He hadn't given her much thought beyond a trifling disappointment at a potential tryst thwarted and an interesting conversation lost. Though the conversation part had been regained it seemed. Yet, he could give her a more playful charming answer, "This morning more like for some of us. When I heard your voice dance across the air, I couldn't help but follow its lead. Much like following a siren's call."

"... You use such pretty words." She surprised him again when he caught the disappointment seeping in her grey orbs like storm clouds. She fixed that polite smile he had received before... the one he had noticed she gave to overly-friendly, but strange customers. It was like seeing a physical manifestation of Geralt's silent glare that said he was now merely tolerating whoever was before him. Usually, it was Jaskier.

"Huh. I – I don't think I've ever heard someone say that like it was an insult before." He murmured with a furrowed brow, feeling like he was losing his grip on...on something.

Lyrra shrugged indifferently, "So what were you really doing this morning then?"

Jaskier stared as he realized that it wasn't that he was losing his grip, but that she could see through his bullshit. Bollocks, "I was looking for some food. An apple or something to nibble on. Rather surprised there weren't merchants anywhere on the street, actually."

As if realizing it herself, she glanced about the street they were drifting down. A frown tugged at her lips, "It has been strange lately."

Her voice was barely louder than a whispered, but Jaskier still caught her words. Maybe this was why Geralt had been so twitchy. Maybe he had sensed something was off with Glynedol – now Jaskier wished he had paid a little more attention to his friend's brief explanations, "Strange how?"

Lyrra shook her head, "Just quiet. Fewer people. Usually, the town is bustling with activity this time of year...it's hard to explain. Your singing brought in more people to the tavern than I had seen in a while."

"Huh." Jaskier huffed, suddenly at a loss for those pretty words she mentioned earlier. He had no idea of what to make of her information or what it could possibly have to do with Geralt's latest venture.

She seemed to sense this as she touched his elbow and nodded behind her, "Come on, let's get you some food."

"Oh yes, that – that is a golden plan right there, that is." He uttered delightedly before his stomach reaffirmed its starved state with a loud gurgle. She snickered softly and his lips quirked as a sinful comment fell from his lips, "Help me sate my body's hunger, lovely Lyrra."

There was no doubt that she rolled her eyes this time as she led the way back to the tavern.

»»————-　　————-««

"Where is your companion?" Lyrra asked lowly as she placed a small bowl of stew before him.

Once they had entered the Rose and Pine, she had disappeared into the back, only to reappear as she had the previous night. Jaskier had felt mild disappointment at the sight of her work frock and headscarf. While practical, he would rather see her lovely hair falling loose from her braid and skimming the small strip of flesh above the neckline of her other gown than this sack of a monstrosity. He said none of this as he munched slowly on his stew.

After a thoughtful moment and under the pressure of her expectant gaze, he shrugged, "Not terribly sure actually. I was more enamored with finding water for a bath when he departed. I saw Roach stabled at the back of the inn still... He couldn't have gone far."

"Roach?"

"His horse." Jaskier clarified with a hint of envy as he thought of his other defacto traveling companion. Should Geralt ever feel the need to ditch him, Roach's disappearance would be his clue, "Geralt loves that beast more than himself. He wouldn't leave her alone for long."

A soft smile crossed Lyrra's lips at this profession. Quietly, she slid into the seat across from him. It was funny, when he wasn't actively pursuing her attention, she seemed not to mind giving it to him, "What's that look then?"

Lyrra blinked and looked at him questionably, "What look?"

"That smile for Geralt's bestial obsession." Jaskier said with a small grin. Had the Witcher been nearby he would have been smacked upside the head for that little comment.

Lyrra shrugged, "Whether a beast of burden or a furry companion, I think it's rather telling of a person on how they treat their pets. Your Geralt seems to be a decent sort at the very least."

Jaskier snorted in amusement, though he couldn't disagree. For as gruff and sinister and outright bloody rude his friend could be, he was more honest and decent than most, "Yes, he is at the very least decent."

She cast him an indecipherable look and he merely smiled back. Finishing his stew, he took the time to really study her. It had been something of game, the previous night to court her attention. She had flitted about the tavern like she was dancing on wind. Her service was so smooth that he hadn't even noticed her until the incident with the leering scruff. Her handling of it had been just as graceful and if he hadn't been standing behind her at the time, he never would have noticed the man's untoward forwardness.

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to comment on it to her, but then she had turned to him. Her grey orbs had shown like stars shining through stormy skies and he had been captivated. She was pretty. Her beauty understated, but nonetheless present as his interest in her continued to climb. It had also helped that Jaskier had caught the interest in her gaze as well. He knew attraction when he saw it. He had been put off when she hadn't acted on hers, however. As fun as it had been to pull blushes to her unblemished cheeks, he hadn't expected to be so thoroughly stonewalled. Admittedly, her reluctance to have anything to do with him was still rather entertaining.

He wondered distantly if there was a word for finding such abhorrence to his person attractive. He was sure it said something about him at any rate, but that too was not something he wanted to dwell on. Instead, he turned his focus back on Lyrra, "So... barmaid, then?... Um, how did you find yourself in that profession?"

He nearly grimaced at how bumbling that had come out. She stared at him silently for a moment, amusement crinkling at the corner of her eyes before saying so dryly, "Well, queen seemed to be taken and I wasn't much for whoring. You?"

"Same." He uttered amusedly, preening when she smiled in quiet laughter.

She shook her head at him and moved to stand, "I need to start getting ready for the dinner hour. Thank you for your help today, sir bard."

"Jaskier, Lyrra." He corrected, longing to hear her recite his name in a more intimate setting.

She smirked, a faint blush appearing as she threw over her shoulder, "Or dove, right?"

Well, well. He grinned in delight at her parting shot and vowed to get her to spend her spare time with him as the night wore on.

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