[ Istredd's flustered at the coy response and doesn't reply because it is like him to fall, frankly, quickly or not, but he knows Jaskier's only teasing him. Falling into bed would be a lot safer than the other option, and he does have some kind of loose hopes for the way this all goes.
He takes Jaskier's arm when it's offered and it is easier to get past his awkwardness with someone who oozes confidence and comfort with himself. It's part of what draws him to Jaskier, his strong personality mixed with an inner light and warmth makes someone stand out. He's a muted person in comparison but he hopes to provide at least some entertainment for the brighter bard. ]
Archaeological digs are not the place to find culture, I'm afraid. I was very focused on my work, so it was all dusty caverns and quiet libraries for me. I did get to spend time with the people who worked with me, but we weren't the kind of spots that bards would want to frequent.
[ Istredd was at Thanedd but he completely missed the bard there and whatever music he was playing. He listened enough to follow the dance steps as he was forced to engage, but he wouldn't remember the name or the man behind the music. Jaskier wrote something that not only caught his interest in a rare way, but stayed with him for years. ]
What got you started in music? Was it a calling or something you were trained for? What is it that you love about it all these years later? Let's start there.
[ Istredd loves hearing about other people's passions. He is used to his coming off as very boring to other people typically, but he doesn't let that stop him from loving what he does, or what he's interested in. Jaskier is someone he knows who also genuinely cares about his career, and while it's far more creative than a scholar's books, it's something they have in common. ]
[Jaskier blinks at that, with a laugh behind his hand.] Isn't that the point of archaeology? You're simply finding culture that's been dead for a while. [No, no, he's teasing him. He knows precisely what Istredd means; what he's truthfully surprised at is that he really was that dedicated to his craft. But who is he to question it? He's dedicated his entire life to music.
As they walk under the night sky towards town, he plays his fingers along the back of Istredd's hand. He has never forgotten the first look at him: during that fae masquerade, when he wore a mask and his body was like a piece of the night sky. A striking man, and he'd seem so confident until Jaskier had spoken to him. Teased him a little too roughly... and found the man reading the messages he'd been sending to Geralt and Yennefer.
The memory always leaves a smile on his face now. It had not been very funny in the moment.] You sound like you're interviewing me. [Well, he supposes Istredd is. A date is a bit like an interview.] Well, an interest in it got me started. I can't really define a single moment. On my family's estate, we would hold parties for the local lords. There was always music in the background, until a musician once cancelled his performance. He'd come down with the plague. [It happened.] And I noticed the difference of a gathering without music, how dour it seems. How restless tempers become. Though most do not notice the music when it is there, it is dire when it is missing. I wanted to be someone who could control the flow of an entire room simply with the sound of an instrument. And, of course, my voice; I didn't know at the time how good it would become.
[That was more than a matter of practice, after all. He was simply born talented in that aspect.] I don't know if that really answers your question, but I feel it answers them all at once, too. [He turns to Istredd, leaning into his body, intimately stroking his fingertips over the soft skin between Istredd's own digits.] Nothing feels as good as holding someone's attention.
That's a good point, but I'm fairly certain most of the music from then has faded. I loved everything about my job, honestly. I've studied the history of this world extensively but I don't have the freedom to do more.
[ Istredd is very passionate about his work. He dedicated decades to following his interests. No one found it interesting at all, so he constantly had to accept that his love of history was more of a solo project. Stregobor did hear him out every time he reported and sometimes even seemed interested, but he saw it more as something Istredd had to get out of his system before coming back to the Brotherhood. It isolated him from his peers and organization, but that was part of the point.
The simple but nice gesture of Jaskier touching his hand makes him feel amazing, a thrill. He was far more confident in his disguise in the Feywilds but he remembers being so reactive to Jaskier even then. He does get more sure of himself the more he knows someone, as most in Thorne can attest, but he's shy at first.
It is very interesting to hear where other passions come from, and the fact Jaskier found connection to attention would make sense for someone born to perform.]
It takes a lot of bravery to take that and travel the world with it though. I assume the road wasn't always easy or safe.
[ The rest of them from their world have powers, training, ways to protect themselves from the harshness of their realm. Jaskier is smart and competent but Istredd can't see the reality of travel being comfortable for anyone else. There had to be a lot of uncertainty and danger. ]
But you said your family's estate? I remember you introduced yourself with your full title to me. Someone in your position could have done anything with his life. It's fascinating.
[ But he chose the life of a wandering bard. It is unusual. And unique.]
[Jaskier is the same way, in that hearing of another's passions -- at least ones that match Jaskier's own for music -- spring from. Whether Istredd used it as an escape or for something even less, it clearly brings a light to his eyes when he speaks of it. (Though Istredd hardly has issues with light in his eyes, bright as they are.)
Istredd's first observation makes him laugh, something quiet, a chuckle. It's so... mage of him. So similar to many of the way the Summoned view this world, too.]
I know it must be hard for you to imagine, but there are far more normal people like me than there are people like you. With chaos, with power. They live a life just as much as mages, and Witchers, and elves, and the Continent doesn't discriminate.
[Among the monsters, the dragons, the dwarves and the trolls. The plagues, the sicknesses, the -- fucking magic wars. They still survive despite that. Perhaps that was the lesson he was meant to learn about the Conjunction of the Spheres, about humans as a race.
They survived. Thrived. To the detriment of others, even.
Jaskier ducks his head in acknowledgement, a smile curling up coyly.] Viscount de Lettenhove. Anything? You think so? While a life of leisure sounds preferable on the surface, what meaning does it really have? I would have lived and died a rich life and left nothing behind, made no mark upon the world. Changed no lives. It would have been pointless. I much prefer a life in which I change others, even if it is only to bring them a spot of joy at the end of a long day.
I take your point. I did speak frequently with normal people, but usually they were fellow scholars or working at the dig site with me. Not the traveling kind.
[ Istredd sheltered himself in many ways from the outside world. He lived in his work and in his books and he rarely came up for air. He avoided small talk and getting to know normal humans because he just wasn't very comfortable with people. It was an isolated way to live but it's one he actively chose, so it's his own fault that he ended up not very good with the world. It made him naive, like when he thought he could save the elves. ]
For someone nearing a century, I haven't done a lot of living, if I'm being honest. Until I came here.
[ Istredd's entire life and viewpoint has changed drastically since coming to Abraxas. Not only has his mind and power been challenged by the strangeness of this sphere and the things that have happened to them, but he was forced to open up his heart and his mind to allowing more people into his life. He doesn't regret it in the least, if anything, he's deeply thankful. The life he's had for the past two years has been more impactful than decades on the continent.
He nods as he listens to Jaskier explain how that life wouldn't have suited him, and it makes sense, not with someone with his type of depth. Istredd would not have liked that role either. He opens the door to the inn for Jaskier. The room is already booked (if they want it later) but the restaurant downstairs is nice, and there is a table waiting for them. Istredd is very thorough when he makes plans, and he wanted to attempt to impress Jaskier, as silly as that may be. ]
So I suppose the next question would not surprise you. How did you and Geralt become traveling companions?
[Now that he's lived through several dressing downs of people from worlds far different than his own, Jaskier can also recognize scholars are hardly the sort to be called normal, either, especially when there are still entire swathes of populations that are completely illiterate.
However, he understands Istredd's point. He's attempting to understand, and with much more sympathy than most.
It's soft of him. Especially when Jaskier's style of living has changed very little. He is still a bard. He still travels the Path with Geralt. He still sings, and performs, and lets his name be known. He just also, occasionally, sits in the sun as a gryphon and embraces no longer being so human.
A thing he will miss desperately if he is ever to lose his chaos. It feels such an inescapable part of him now.
Jaskier takes a seat close to Istredd, leaning his body into the mage's as they grow comfortable. If this is a date, he sees no point in being coy about anything other than their conversation.
Jaskier laughs.] I can't believe it's never come up. [Not that he relies on Geralt to ever tell stories; it's only he thought Istredd and Geralt had gotten so cozy over time, and Istredd is not afraid of asking questions.] When I was eighteen, I'd heard the stories about, you know...
[He lowers his voice.] The Butcher of Blaviken. So you can imagine my surprise when, during a performance by yours truly in his earliest years, the Witcher himself walked in and took a seat. When I was young, I was precocious. I had wanted nothing more than the right story to attach myself to. What could be more fascinating than a disgraced man, a hated beast, a murderer? I had wanted to see what was true behind the story myself. And the man I found was... well, he was not someone to be reduced to a simple murderer. Geralt was fascinating. And a bastard. A complete bastard. But... he also saved my life that same day. I knew there was more to him than a butcher.
You can't? I don't even know how he and Yennefer met.
[ To be fair, Istredd hasn't asked either of them that, but the joke is more that neither of them are very forthcoming people. He is an inquisitive person but he would rather ask Jaskier about himself than try to pull things out of Geralt. He is much more upfront himself about how he met people; it was practically day one when he informed everyone in Thorne that he was a childhood friend of Yennefer's. It made her roll her eyes but he has never been good at holding his tongue.
His expression sombers briefly at the mention of Blaviken as it holds some emotional significance to him too. Not Geralt's end, obviously, but when he found out that Stregobor was responsible for it. One more crime to add to the feet of the man he used to look up to. He listens attentively to Jaskier, his bright blue eyes fixed on his face.
He's pleased that Jaskier sat close; he's a little more shy about it so he might not have made the gesture. He reacts to it well. His eyes wander a little to admire his face, his general appearance. A handsome man. ]
That's very bold for someone only eighteen, but I can't say I'm surprised.
[ Jaskier has bold written all over him. ]
We had an interesting first meeting, I can't say I knew what to think of him. Witchers were more strange stories than real to me at that point, but Triss sent him along so I did what I could to help.
[ It probably is what started them off on not the worst feet. Knowing Triss connected them, and they both had enough trust in her to assume this person wasn't an enemy. He did find Geralt compelling if strange and slightly irritating. It was a weird agreement of theirs. ]
Not as fun as our first meeting. [ He says with a smile at Jaskier, his voice pitching lower, playful. ] Although I didn't expect to get those written words shown to me about how the man I was dancing with was considering if he could fuck someone incorporeal.
[Jaskier sputters a laugh. Oh. Oh, gods, he doesn't? No, no, he'll get back to that. As it is, he's stretching himself out, just a little, to give Istredd a bit more to look at, his hand propped up on a hand.
Bold doesn't really cover it. Always thought he may be a bit knockered in the head, actually, considering some of his previous decisions.]
Triss, is it? I've only met her very, very briefly, but I'm not surprised to hear everyone knows everyone and never shares the information. [And now she's gone from Abraxas, too. Along with the likes of people that had meant much more to him -- but he knew the loss had been a great one to Geralt, at the time.
Jaskier smiles, leaning in to draw his hand over Istredd's lovely little jawline.] You should be very happy your dancing wasn't so bad that it put me off fucking you. [He gets a little thrill saying it, but honestly, who wouldn't want a piece of Istredd? Look at him.] Now, it's a funny story, because I do know how Geralt and Yennefer met, because I was there. And it's exactly as wrought and overdramatic as you can imagine. I've never seen Geralt turn into such a dullard as he does around her. [He tips Istredd's chin up a little.] Possibly the same way you do around her, as well. She has that power over men, doesn't she?
Triss is a rare person. Everyone who has ever met her likes her, including the harshest of the Brotherhood. And Geralt.
[ There is a touch of sadness in his smile but he doesn't let it overtake him. Triss is well at home, at least to the time point that they know, and with Yennefer and the other survivors. He holds onto that even if he is not with them. She will do great things with them.
Any lingering thoughts of that are swept away when Jaskier touches him and his eyes widen slightly, color streaking across his cheeks. The beard hides most of it but Jaskier is close enough to probably see it. He is who he is, a grown man who blushes under the right scrutiny, and Jaskier's gaze is definitely that. He likes the intimacy of the moment and leans into the touch. ]
I'm glad I had some practice in the ballroom then, so as not to put you off.
[ Istredd was in fine form that night because he felt confident in himself without anyone being able to see him. He usually carries himself more certainty when he feels sure of himself. He reaches out to caress Jaskier's cheek with the back of his fingers. It feels very natural, strange enough. ]
I knew her long before that was true. It's part of what she hates about me. [ When they were both young and in many ways still innocent, despite how they were raised. Istredd saw her then, as no one else could, and that will be true of the two of them until the day they die. But he's not with Yennefer right now. ]
But perhaps that's something the two of you have in common. Turning men into fools with just a smile.
[ Istredd can be very good with his words too, given the chance. And it's all with the air of absolute sincerity that follows him everywhere. ]
[Oh, he sees it, even on Istredd's pretty skin. He was looking for it, even. Jaskier's partners are so often as experienced as him, and plenty willing to indulge in his favourite intimacies, but they have lingered so long that he's missed the intricacies of a newly blossoming thing. How even a man who's lived more than a normal lifetime can still be surprised. How he has so many new things to learn about Istredd's specific reactions to just the right touches.]
You had plenty to offer beyond dancing skills.
[And still do. Jaskier's smile twitches; mostly because of Yennefer (and his memory of a girl with wider eyes and less venomous words), but also because Istredd's touch is so soft, it's as if the bard may break.
Jaskier moves his hand to Istredd's leg, driving it up along his thigh.] And do you feel very foolish right now?
[ Istredd's said it himself, he tends to fall into relationships, and he loves them, that much is clear, but there wasn't much wooing to speak of beforehand. Jaskier is a unique experience in multiple ways, including Istredd intentionally pursuing him. He's putting himself out there on purpose, trying to gain the bard's affection and interest by actions, not by existing in his space waiting for something to happen. This is a choice with action involved, and he's thrilled by it, and by Jaskier's easy, warm response. ]
All I have to offer is yours, if you want it.
[ And he is fairly certain that Jaskier does considering their intimate closeness and then the feeling of the bard's hand on his thigh. He clears his throat, flushing even darker at such boldness in public, but in no way against it. He feels internally a need to match that bravery, to encourage Jaskier in all his whims. ]
No, I feel like this may have been one of the smartest things I've ever done.
[ He asked Jaskier here, after all, he made the gesture, and it's working out splendidly for him. Istredd smiles at him, shy but sweet, and brushes his fingers into Jaskier's dark hair. ]
You are so beautiful up close, Jaskier. Your eyes, your lips. I'm sure you hear it all the time, so I hope I am not sounding too cliche.
A bold declaration. [He smiles but doesn't quite laugh, because he understands Istredd fairly means it, and the bard does not take such declarations lightly. How easily it feels that they've done such steps in this dance before, and yet it feels as if his first attempt at it.
Perhaps it is as simple as Istredd's common origin. They lived vastly different lives, but they both understand the sort of people the Continent births. Why they are the way they are. Why Jaskier loves people like Geralt, and why Istredd loves people like Yennefer. There's a pure, easy understanding. It gives him some footing to lean back on.]
[ Jaskier and Istredd came from different backgrounds but he feels like despite that, they do understand each other, and they have common ground to pull from. It has felt truly easy with Jaskier since he met him. Their first meeting was bizarre, but it was simple afterward to move in sync and get to know one another with warmth that isn't always easy for Istredd.
It must be Jaskier himself, he thinks, who makes it feel so simple. And he's grateful. Grateful he gets something that can be his, separate from all the responsibilities and worries of his day to day in Thorne. He hopes that he can offer something similar to the bard. A refuge, of a kind. ]
I think it best or we may be in danger of public indecency if you keep looking at me like that.
[ He leans in to kiss Jaskier's cheek very gently, concerned he may lose all reason if he attempts even a chaste real kiss at this juncture. He slides out of his seat to stand and sets the key down for the room. ]
I'll get the food and meet you up there.
[ He's still the one who set up the date so he's going to be gentlemanly and get what they need. There's a thrill in his veins and the heat of anticipation.]
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cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
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He takes Jaskier's arm when it's offered and it is easier to get past his awkwardness with someone who oozes confidence and comfort with himself. It's part of what draws him to Jaskier, his strong personality mixed with an inner light and warmth makes someone stand out. He's a muted person in comparison but he hopes to provide at least some entertainment for the brighter bard. ]
Archaeological digs are not the place to find culture, I'm afraid. I was very focused on my work, so it was all dusty caverns and quiet libraries for me. I did get to spend time with the people who worked with me, but we weren't the kind of spots that bards would want to frequent.
[ Istredd was at Thanedd but he completely missed the bard there and whatever music he was playing. He listened enough to follow the dance steps as he was forced to engage, but he wouldn't remember the name or the man behind the music. Jaskier wrote something that not only caught his interest in a rare way, but stayed with him for years. ]
What got you started in music? Was it a calling or something you were trained for? What is it that you love about it all these years later? Let's start there.
[ Istredd loves hearing about other people's passions. He is used to his coming off as very boring to other people typically, but he doesn't let that stop him from loving what he does, or what he's interested in. Jaskier is someone he knows who also genuinely cares about his career, and while it's far more creative than a scholar's books, it's something they have in common. ]
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As they walk under the night sky towards town, he plays his fingers along the back of Istredd's hand. He has never forgotten the first look at him: during that fae masquerade, when he wore a mask and his body was like a piece of the night sky. A striking man, and he'd seem so confident until Jaskier had spoken to him. Teased him a little too roughly... and found the man reading the messages he'd been sending to Geralt and Yennefer.
The memory always leaves a smile on his face now. It had not been very funny in the moment.] You sound like you're interviewing me. [Well, he supposes Istredd is. A date is a bit like an interview.] Well, an interest in it got me started. I can't really define a single moment. On my family's estate, we would hold parties for the local lords. There was always music in the background, until a musician once cancelled his performance. He'd come down with the plague. [It happened.] And I noticed the difference of a gathering without music, how dour it seems. How restless tempers become. Though most do not notice the music when it is there, it is dire when it is missing. I wanted to be someone who could control the flow of an entire room simply with the sound of an instrument. And, of course, my voice; I didn't know at the time how good it would become.
[That was more than a matter of practice, after all. He was simply born talented in that aspect.] I don't know if that really answers your question, but I feel it answers them all at once, too. [He turns to Istredd, leaning into his body, intimately stroking his fingertips over the soft skin between Istredd's own digits.] Nothing feels as good as holding someone's attention.
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[ Istredd is very passionate about his work. He dedicated decades to following his interests. No one found it interesting at all, so he constantly had to accept that his love of history was more of a solo project. Stregobor did hear him out every time he reported and sometimes even seemed interested, but he saw it more as something Istredd had to get out of his system before coming back to the Brotherhood. It isolated him from his peers and organization, but that was part of the point.
The simple but nice gesture of Jaskier touching his hand makes him feel amazing, a thrill. He was far more confident in his disguise in the Feywilds but he remembers being so reactive to Jaskier even then. He does get more sure of himself the more he knows someone, as most in Thorne can attest, but he's shy at first.
It is very interesting to hear where other passions come from, and the fact Jaskier found connection to attention would make sense for someone born to perform.]
It takes a lot of bravery to take that and travel the world with it though. I assume the road wasn't always easy or safe.
[ The rest of them from their world have powers, training, ways to protect themselves from the harshness of their realm. Jaskier is smart and competent but Istredd can't see the reality of travel being comfortable for anyone else. There had to be a lot of uncertainty and danger. ]
But you said your family's estate? I remember you introduced yourself with your full title to me. Someone in your position could have done anything with his life. It's fascinating.
[ But he chose the life of a wandering bard. It is unusual. And unique.]
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Istredd's first observation makes him laugh, something quiet, a chuckle. It's so... mage of him. So similar to many of the way the Summoned view this world, too.]
I know it must be hard for you to imagine, but there are far more normal people like me than there are people like you. With chaos, with power. They live a life just as much as mages, and Witchers, and elves, and the Continent doesn't discriminate.
[Among the monsters, the dragons, the dwarves and the trolls. The plagues, the sicknesses, the -- fucking magic wars. They still survive despite that. Perhaps that was the lesson he was meant to learn about the Conjunction of the Spheres, about humans as a race.
They survived. Thrived. To the detriment of others, even.
Jaskier ducks his head in acknowledgement, a smile curling up coyly.] Viscount de Lettenhove. Anything? You think so? While a life of leisure sounds preferable on the surface, what meaning does it really have? I would have lived and died a rich life and left nothing behind, made no mark upon the world. Changed no lives. It would have been pointless. I much prefer a life in which I change others, even if it is only to bring them a spot of joy at the end of a long day.
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[ Istredd sheltered himself in many ways from the outside world. He lived in his work and in his books and he rarely came up for air. He avoided small talk and getting to know normal humans because he just wasn't very comfortable with people. It was an isolated way to live but it's one he actively chose, so it's his own fault that he ended up not very good with the world. It made him naive, like when he thought he could save the elves. ]
For someone nearing a century, I haven't done a lot of living, if I'm being honest. Until I came here.
[ Istredd's entire life and viewpoint has changed drastically since coming to Abraxas. Not only has his mind and power been challenged by the strangeness of this sphere and the things that have happened to them, but he was forced to open up his heart and his mind to allowing more people into his life. He doesn't regret it in the least, if anything, he's deeply thankful. The life he's had for the past two years has been more impactful than decades on the continent.
He nods as he listens to Jaskier explain how that life wouldn't have suited him, and it makes sense, not with someone with his type of depth. Istredd would not have liked that role either. He opens the door to the inn for Jaskier. The room is already booked (if they want it later) but the restaurant downstairs is nice, and there is a table waiting for them. Istredd is very thorough when he makes plans, and he wanted to attempt to impress Jaskier, as silly as that may be. ]
So I suppose the next question would not surprise you. How did you and Geralt become traveling companions?
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However, he understands Istredd's point. He's attempting to understand, and with much more sympathy than most.
It's soft of him. Especially when Jaskier's style of living has changed very little. He is still a bard. He still travels the Path with Geralt. He still sings, and performs, and lets his name be known. He just also, occasionally, sits in the sun as a gryphon and embraces no longer being so human.
A thing he will miss desperately if he is ever to lose his chaos. It feels such an inescapable part of him now.
Jaskier takes a seat close to Istredd, leaning his body into the mage's as they grow comfortable. If this is a date, he sees no point in being coy about anything other than their conversation.
Jaskier laughs.] I can't believe it's never come up. [Not that he relies on Geralt to ever tell stories; it's only he thought Istredd and Geralt had gotten so cozy over time, and Istredd is not afraid of asking questions.] When I was eighteen, I'd heard the stories about, you know...
[He lowers his voice.] The Butcher of Blaviken. So you can imagine my surprise when, during a performance by yours truly in his earliest years, the Witcher himself walked in and took a seat. When I was young, I was precocious. I had wanted nothing more than the right story to attach myself to. What could be more fascinating than a disgraced man, a hated beast, a murderer? I had wanted to see what was true behind the story myself. And the man I found was... well, he was not someone to be reduced to a simple murderer. Geralt was fascinating. And a bastard. A complete bastard. But... he also saved my life that same day. I knew there was more to him than a butcher.
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[ To be fair, Istredd hasn't asked either of them that, but the joke is more that neither of them are very forthcoming people. He is an inquisitive person but he would rather ask Jaskier about himself than try to pull things out of Geralt. He is much more upfront himself about how he met people; it was practically day one when he informed everyone in Thorne that he was a childhood friend of Yennefer's. It made her roll her eyes but he has never been good at holding his tongue.
His expression sombers briefly at the mention of Blaviken as it holds some emotional significance to him too. Not Geralt's end, obviously, but when he found out that Stregobor was responsible for it. One more crime to add to the feet of the man he used to look up to. He listens attentively to Jaskier, his bright blue eyes fixed on his face.
He's pleased that Jaskier sat close; he's a little more shy about it so he might not have made the gesture. He reacts to it well. His eyes wander a little to admire his face, his general appearance. A handsome man. ]
That's very bold for someone only eighteen, but I can't say I'm surprised.
[ Jaskier has bold written all over him. ]
We had an interesting first meeting, I can't say I knew what to think of him. Witchers were more strange stories than real to me at that point, but Triss sent him along so I did what I could to help.
[ It probably is what started them off on not the worst feet. Knowing Triss connected them, and they both had enough trust in her to assume this person wasn't an enemy. He did find Geralt compelling if strange and slightly irritating. It was a weird agreement of theirs. ]
Not as fun as our first meeting. [ He says with a smile at Jaskier, his voice pitching lower, playful. ] Although I didn't expect to get those written words shown to me about how the man I was dancing with was considering if he could fuck someone incorporeal.
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Bold doesn't really cover it. Always thought he may be a bit knockered in the head, actually, considering some of his previous decisions.]
Triss, is it? I've only met her very, very briefly, but I'm not surprised to hear everyone knows everyone and never shares the information. [And now she's gone from Abraxas, too. Along with the likes of people that had meant much more to him -- but he knew the loss had been a great one to Geralt, at the time.
Jaskier smiles, leaning in to draw his hand over Istredd's lovely little jawline.] You should be very happy your dancing wasn't so bad that it put me off fucking you. [He gets a little thrill saying it, but honestly, who wouldn't want a piece of Istredd? Look at him.] Now, it's a funny story, because I do know how Geralt and Yennefer met, because I was there. And it's exactly as wrought and overdramatic as you can imagine. I've never seen Geralt turn into such a dullard as he does around her. [He tips Istredd's chin up a little.] Possibly the same way you do around her, as well. She has that power over men, doesn't she?
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[ There is a touch of sadness in his smile but he doesn't let it overtake him. Triss is well at home, at least to the time point that they know, and with Yennefer and the other survivors. He holds onto that even if he is not with them. She will do great things with them.
Any lingering thoughts of that are swept away when Jaskier touches him and his eyes widen slightly, color streaking across his cheeks. The beard hides most of it but Jaskier is close enough to probably see it. He is who he is, a grown man who blushes under the right scrutiny, and Jaskier's gaze is definitely that. He likes the intimacy of the moment and leans into the touch. ]
I'm glad I had some practice in the ballroom then, so as not to put you off.
[ Istredd was in fine form that night because he felt confident in himself without anyone being able to see him. He usually carries himself more certainty when he feels sure of himself. He reaches out to caress Jaskier's cheek with the back of his fingers. It feels very natural, strange enough. ]
I knew her long before that was true. It's part of what she hates about me. [ When they were both young and in many ways still innocent, despite how they were raised. Istredd saw her then, as no one else could, and that will be true of the two of them until the day they die. But he's not with Yennefer right now. ]
But perhaps that's something the two of you have in common. Turning men into fools with just a smile.
[ Istredd can be very good with his words too, given the chance. And it's all with the air of absolute sincerity that follows him everywhere. ]
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You had plenty to offer beyond dancing skills.
[And still do. Jaskier's smile twitches; mostly because of Yennefer (and his memory of a girl with wider eyes and less venomous words), but also because Istredd's touch is so soft, it's as if the bard may break.
Jaskier moves his hand to Istredd's leg, driving it up along his thigh.] And do you feel very foolish right now?
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All I have to offer is yours, if you want it.
[ And he is fairly certain that Jaskier does considering their intimate closeness and then the feeling of the bard's hand on his thigh. He clears his throat, flushing even darker at such boldness in public, but in no way against it. He feels internally a need to match that bravery, to encourage Jaskier in all his whims. ]
No, I feel like this may have been one of the smartest things I've ever done.
[ He asked Jaskier here, after all, he made the gesture, and it's working out splendidly for him. Istredd smiles at him, shy but sweet, and brushes his fingers into Jaskier's dark hair. ]
You are so beautiful up close, Jaskier. Your eyes, your lips. I'm sure you hear it all the time, so I hope I am not sounding too cliche.
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Perhaps it is as simple as Istredd's common origin. They lived vastly different lives, but they both understand the sort of people the Continent births. Why they are the way they are. Why Jaskier loves people like Geralt, and why Istredd loves people like Yennefer. There's a pure, easy understanding. It gives him some footing to lean back on.]
You know what? I agree. [That it is a very smart thing, indeed. And bold that he must have asked that lover of his for permission to branch out.] Clichés are so used because they hold reoccurring truths, universally acknowledged. And who am I to shirk the bold words of a mage? [He leans into the touch, the hand. If they weren't intending to eat (though Jaskier has mostly forgotten), he would already have Istredd in a bed. Or against a table. No, scratch that; he should have Istredd holding him against the table. Possibly even using magic to do so.] You know, I think the same of you? [He drags a thumb over Istredd's lower lip, teasing.] I would love to explore these in particular. What do you say to bringing our meal upstairs?
we can wrap here or on yours, up to you, this is very cute :)
It must be Jaskier himself, he thinks, who makes it feel so simple. And he's grateful. Grateful he gets something that can be his, separate from all the responsibilities and worries of his day to day in Thorne. He hopes that he can offer something similar to the bard. A refuge, of a kind. ]
I am very, very lucky that you do.
[ His words may be cliché but they come from the heart. For right now, he believes Jaskier does feel that way about him. away. He wouldn't be here otherwise. His insecurities seem very far away with Jaskier so close to him. He kisses Jaskier's thumb at his lower lip and laughs quietly. ]
I think it best or we may be in danger of public indecency if you keep looking at me like that.
[ He leans in to kiss Jaskier's cheek very gently, concerned he may lose all reason if he attempts even a chaste real kiss at this juncture. He slides out of his seat to stand and sets the key down for the room. ]
I'll get the food and meet you up there.
[ He's still the one who set up the date so he's going to be gentlemanly and get what they need. There's a thrill in his veins and the heat of anticipation.]