Chapter Text
The tavern was too crowded for your liking. You were here with Jaskier, but you lost him a few minutes after arriving—no doubt off flirting with some stranger. The two of you were here waiting for Geralt, and you were growing impatient.
You had been traveling with Jaskier and Geralt for a while now. This past week you’d gone off with Jaskier, who had been contracted to sing at a fancy wedding, while Geralt had gone to take on a griffin two towns over. Tonight was when you all were supposed to be meeting back up. You’d planned on this specific place and time, so then the three of you could make the journey to the next town together. The road past here was dangerous, and Geralt didn’t want you and Jaskier to make the trip without him. But alas, Geralt was late. The sun was going down now and the tavern was only getting more crowded. You’d have to wait until Geralt got here to decide whether you’d stay here for the night—an idea you weren’t too fond of, since this town had a bit of a reputation for crime—or if you’d press on through the darkness.
After waiting for a little while, Jaskier still nowhere in sight, you decided to order yourself a drink. If you were going to have to sit around, you might as well enjoy yourself. The man working behind the bar had been trying to flirt with you on and off for the past hour or so, but you’d given him as little attention as you could manage. Now that you were ordering a drink though, he seemed delighted you two were interacting again. Maybe a little bit too delighted. You didn’t give it much thought at the time. You took the drink gratefully, taking two long swigs before putting down on the counter in front of you.
You’d planned on just sitting at the bar and nursing a couple of ales until Geralt arrived, but ever since you ordered, the barkeep had become more and more insistent with his flirting. You had barely finished your first drink when you decided it was time to go find Jaskier. You didn’t like the way the man was looking at you.
It all hit you at once as you hopped off your seat. You felt dizzy, and for a moment you were afraid you were going to fall. One drink shouldn’t make you feel this way. You shouldn’t even be buzzed. Something was very wrong.
You pushed through the crowded tavern, trying not to become frantic as you looked for Jaskier. Thankfully, it only took a minute to find him—he was surrounded by a small group of people who all seemed fully engrossed in what he was saying. You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Jaskier, I don’t feel well,” you said, trying to speak loud enough to be heard over the volume in the tavern.
He glanced over his shoulder at you, not turning around.
“I’m sure Geralt is going to be here soon,” he replied, going back to his conversation. It wasn’t out of character for Jaskier to be too distracted by social interactions to notice much else. Honestly, you weren’t even sure he’d heard you.
“Jaskier, I’m serious.”
At this Jaskier actually turned around.
“Shit.” You must look pretty awful, because his face fell. “What happened?” he asked, taking a step closer to you, so you could speak to him without shouting.
“Jaskier, I really don’t feel well. Can we please get out of here?”
“Right, yeah, of course,” he stammered, clearly trying to collect his thoughts.
You took his hand as he began to cut through the crowds to the innkeeper. You held onto his hand tightly, the room beginning to spin around you.
“Hello,” Jaskier said, putting on his most charming voice for the innkeeper. “We’re here waiting to meet up with a friend, but my wife really isn’t feeling well. We were wondering if there was somewhere she could sit down for a minute away from the crowds.”
You two had done the husband and wife bit a good handful of times now. You were nothing more than friends, but you’d both found the married act often helped open doors. Geralt teased you guys for it, but it had worked well on multiple occasions. It seemed to do so now. The innkeep was a woman, and she gave you two a kind, pitying look. Jaskier put his arm around you, maybe to sell the bit, maybe because he could sense how unsteady you were. Either way, this seemed to work. The innkeeper was leading you behind the counter now, into a small but well lit back room.
“Thank you, so much,” Jaskier said, slipping her a few coins and closing the door behind her.
You were leaning heavily into his side now, unsure of how much longer you could keep your feet. He helped you over to the wall, and you slid down until you were sitting on the ground, your knees pulled up in front of you and your arms crossed over your chest.
Jaskier knelt down so he could be at your eye level.
“Hey, hey, what happened? Are you alright?”
It was hard to focus on his face. You felt floaty, and everything in the room seemed to be shifting ever so slightly with each passing moment. It made you feel sick to your stomach.
“My drink,” you managed to stammer. “I think he put something in my drink.”
“Who?” Jaskier’s expression went from concern to rage in a split second. “I swear to the gods.”
“No,” you reached out and grabbed his hand, “don’t leave me.”
You were suddenly afraid at the prospect of being alone in this room. You were feeling worse with each passing minute, and you wanted Jaskier there to be your anchor.
“Of course,” he said, letting his shoulders relax. “I just need to go tell the innkeeper to send Geralt back here when he arrives. “Is that alright?”
You nodded. You weren’t crazy about the idea, but it made sense.
“Is there anything else you need before I go do that?”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “A bucket or something. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
“Right, okay.” He brought over an empty bucket from the conveniently placed stack in the far corner of the room. They looked like they were for carrying water, but it was a tall stack; they could spare one for you.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
And with that, you were alone, feeling sick and dizzy and afraid—desperately hoping that Geralt would be here soon and you could get the hell out of this damned town.