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A man walks up beside Jaskier at the refreshment table. Jaskier can only get a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he can see the stranger has long white hair, is built like a bear, and that he’s staring at Jaskier.
“I noticed you’re very good with your hands.” The mysterious and vaguely unnerving man drawls. Jaskier has to try hard not to tense. Either this man is coming onto him very blatantly or he saw Jaskier snatch one or more of the three pieces of jewelry currently in his pants. He hasn’t performed yet tonight, so he can’t bank on the bard card to get him out of this one. Jaskier isn’t sure how to play the comment off.
Jaskier finally looks at the man and smiles tightly. “Excuse me?” The man’s eyes are golden and he's wearing a snarling wolf’s head medallion. A witcher. Jaskier bites his tongue to hold in his excitement.
The witcher looks him up and down, amusement sparking in his expression. Jaskier perks up at the attention and at the same moment he realizes— this is Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken. “Saw you dip the Countess on the dance floor. Talented.” Those sly golden eyes flick back up to his. It sends a thrill of excitement through Jaskier.
Jaskier looks to the ground and screws his mouth around to hold a grin. It doesn’t work very well, and he decides to throw in the towel. “Yes, well, I’d hate for the poor lady to have sprained her neck.” He makes eye contact as he sips his wine, playing coy. “Thought I’d… take some weight off her shoulders.”
Geralt hums. “Careful, thief.” There is a hint of a smile on his face as he says it. Jaskier feels as if he has achieved something great, amusing this man. The witcher grabs an ale and looks back out to the party. “They’ll hang you if they find out.” His voice is indifferent as he says it, but Jaskier knows— hopes, maybe— that Geralt gives a fuck about him, even if they are strangers.
“Good thing I don’t intend for them to find out,” Jaskier purrs, and steps back into the fray of nobility. He has to return to his lute and stash his collection. It’s time he performed.
Jaskier can’t help but cast a look back towards the witcher as he slips into the back room, and finds bright golden eyes staring right back. Not so indifferent after all, Jaskier thinks with a smile.