It happens. Occasionally. Jaskier is not completely unmoved by other musicians, it's simply rare he finds any that reach his own level of talent. This dragon -- this Nidhogg -- he would never doubt. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, scrubbing his face. It's hardly as if he's ashamed of the tears, but it's. Annoying. To see through a watery film.
Fuck. Fuck.
He's nodding as he's listening, but it takes a few more scrubs of his face. The creatures of his vineyard shudder and stamp, an echo of the swirl of everything inside him. It is not, of course, even a faint drop compared to what it must feel, having that inside your heart, but --
Everlasting, raw pain. "Yes. It certainly sounds like it."
He recalls the dragons he met in Himeka's lair; creatures he knew out of memory without having memory. And even then, they had still felt like ancient, unfathomable things. And he could not imagine a higher honor than the one who bowed her head, complimenting his music.
"Darganfod reuste free aen bloed." May you find rest free from blood. He looks up at Estinien with eyes gone dreadfully puffy, but the blues brighter. "You said the war ended, did it not? Did they find their rest?"
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Fuck. Fuck.
He's nodding as he's listening, but it takes a few more scrubs of his face. The creatures of his vineyard shudder and stamp, an echo of the swirl of everything inside him. It is not, of course, even a faint drop compared to what it must feel, having that inside your heart, but --
Everlasting, raw pain. "Yes. It certainly sounds like it."
He recalls the dragons he met in Himeka's lair; creatures he knew out of memory without having memory. And even then, they had still felt like ancient, unfathomable things. And he could not imagine a higher honor than the one who bowed her head, complimenting his music.
"Darganfod reuste free aen bloed." May you find rest free from blood. He looks up at Estinien with eyes gone dreadfully puffy, but the blues brighter. "You said the war ended, did it not? Did they find their rest?"