[Jaskier snorts into his bite of bread.] If you're anything like Geralt, which you clearly are, you're both more suited to being, how do I say... shadows? Not the center of attention? Far from the stage? I'll be happy to keep all the attention on myself.
[He may not have spent much time with Ciri -- a problem which he was rather looking forward to fixing -- he definitely sees Geralt reflected in her. Some of his movements, maybe. Or how he speaks? He's spent decades with Geralt. He knows him well. Knows him plenty to see another also familiar with him.
He pauses in his next bite. Jaskier glances between them, and a small worry comes between his brows. He'll be careful. Ciri knows him, clearly. With lost time, and knowing his name. Why should anyone ever have to assure her he'd be careful? What, did Geralt convince her he was a fool, too?
He stops for a moment. It's true that she has not really indicated how well she knows him. Over a decade. It's a very long time. It's a long time to not know one very well.
He moves past it quickly enough, rolling a bit of cheese between his fingers to form a ball. The thought lingers despite it, and his tone is no longer as light as it was before.]
Oh, suddenly we're interested in my magic? [Jaskier says the words much smoother than he really feels about the whole thing. If anyone is bewildered still about his magic, Jaskier feels that much more about it. After his education in the arts, though, he certainly knows one must use one's talents, all of them, to get what they want. And in this instance, being safe... is what he wants.
A flick of his wrist, and a little bluebird sits on his knee, giving a few chirps before it stops. He no longer controls it now, and it hops down his leg, flutters in the air, and lands on the tip of Ciri's boot.] Yes. I'll send a few out. [He looks to Ciri in case an explanation is needed.] They can listen. Perhaps gather a few words we otherwise wouldn't hear.
no subject
[He may not have spent much time with Ciri -- a problem which he was rather looking forward to fixing -- he definitely sees Geralt reflected in her. Some of his movements, maybe. Or how he speaks? He's spent decades with Geralt. He knows him well. Knows him plenty to see another also familiar with him.
He pauses in his next bite. Jaskier glances between them, and a small worry comes between his brows. He'll be careful. Ciri knows him, clearly. With lost time, and knowing his name. Why should anyone ever have to assure her he'd be careful? What, did Geralt convince her he was a fool, too?
He stops for a moment. It's true that she has not really indicated how well she knows him. Over a decade. It's a very long time. It's a long time to not know one very well.
He moves past it quickly enough, rolling a bit of cheese between his fingers to form a ball. The thought lingers despite it, and his tone is no longer as light as it was before.]
Oh, suddenly we're interested in my magic? [Jaskier says the words much smoother than he really feels about the whole thing. If anyone is bewildered still about his magic, Jaskier feels that much more about it. After his education in the arts, though, he certainly knows one must use one's talents, all of them, to get what they want. And in this instance, being safe... is what he wants.
A flick of his wrist, and a little bluebird sits on his knee, giving a few chirps before it stops. He no longer controls it now, and it hops down his leg, flutters in the air, and lands on the tip of Ciri's boot.] Yes. I'll send a few out. [He looks to Ciri in case an explanation is needed.] They can listen. Perhaps gather a few words we otherwise wouldn't hear.