[Estinien would guess that it was simply part of Jaskier's aetheric nature, maybe some kind of talent for creation magicks? Unfortunately, nobody seems to know what he's talking about when he discusses those things. Besides Himeka, anyway.
As for the rest, he'd been anticipating Jaskier finding his explanation confusion, but he could not have predicted the particular direction the man took that in. One moment they are on to discussing the logistics of emotional magic, only to skip right back to the Dravanian in the room, so to speak.
That last comment is so absurd to Estinien's sensibilities that he doesn't even know how to react, considering that those same draconic features cause him considerable dysmorphia. How could they not, when he grew up seeing them as a symbol of the most evil of corruptions, and went on to having a particularly terrifying experience with being transformed against his will? He knows the truth behind those concepts now, and yet it seems to make no difference to the place in his gut that turns whenever he thinks of it.
But Jaskier finds it 'attractive', does he? They had a word for that in the Ishgard of old. Estinien looks genuinely started for a moment, before laboriously composing himself, diverting the topic at the first opportunity:]
You'd be hung for saying that, in the culture I was raised.
[His tone has a distinctively humorous edge to it, but it also makes it clear that what he's saying is absolutely true. He's going to say this all at once, mostly because he doesn't want to have to explain it again.]
My people were at war with dragons for centuries. 'Twas... an unjust conflict, from the very root... with unthinkable cruelty done to either side before it reached its end.
[Though he is trying to be simply factual about this information, there are clear pangs of regret and sorrow tied up in all of it.]
I was forged in its fires from a young age, and ultimately, it became my quest to bring an end to the dragon who led the horde - the Great Wyrm Nidhogg. To bring myself to his level, I indulged in the power of his severed eye, the wellspring of a dragon's strength... only for that power to consume me, and for him to take my body for his own with his dying gasp.
[He pauses, looking out at the field of grapes, swallowing the lump in his throat.]
'Twas only then that I realized... that his pains were mine own. We were twin souls, consumed by rancor in our efforts to find justice for all we had lost. We became as one, for a time, but when his spirit finally left for the unknown and my will returned to me... his power still surged through my veins, and his memories, his emotions... live in me still.
He has been with me since that day, but he feels... especially close, when that form overtakes me. I know not what to think of it.
no subject
As for the rest, he'd been anticipating Jaskier finding his explanation confusion, but he could not have predicted the particular direction the man took that in. One moment they are on to discussing the logistics of emotional magic, only to skip right back to the Dravanian in the room, so to speak.
That last comment is so absurd to Estinien's sensibilities that he doesn't even know how to react, considering that those same draconic features cause him considerable dysmorphia. How could they not, when he grew up seeing them as a symbol of the most evil of corruptions, and went on to having a particularly terrifying experience with being transformed against his will? He knows the truth behind those concepts now, and yet it seems to make no difference to the place in his gut that turns whenever he thinks of it.
But Jaskier finds it 'attractive', does he? They had a word for that in the Ishgard of old. Estinien looks genuinely started for a moment, before laboriously composing himself, diverting the topic at the first opportunity:]
You'd be hung for saying that, in the culture I was raised.
[His tone has a distinctively humorous edge to it, but it also makes it clear that what he's saying is absolutely true. He's going to say this all at once, mostly because he doesn't want to have to explain it again.]
My people were at war with dragons for centuries. 'Twas... an unjust conflict, from the very root... with unthinkable cruelty done to either side before it reached its end.
[Though he is trying to be simply factual about this information, there are clear pangs of regret and sorrow tied up in all of it.]
I was forged in its fires from a young age, and ultimately, it became my quest to bring an end to the dragon who led the horde - the Great Wyrm Nidhogg. To bring myself to his level, I indulged in the power of his severed eye, the wellspring of a dragon's strength... only for that power to consume me, and for him to take my body for his own with his dying gasp.
[He pauses, looking out at the field of grapes, swallowing the lump in his throat.]
'Twas only then that I realized... that his pains were mine own. We were twin souls, consumed by rancor in our efforts to find justice for all we had lost. We became as one, for a time, but when his spirit finally left for the unknown and my will returned to me... his power still surged through my veins, and his memories, his emotions... live in me still.
He has been with me since that day, but he feels... especially close, when that form overtakes me. I know not what to think of it.