"Oh, was it?" Prior to the fires, he imagines, and because he wants to now more without depressing the poor elf anymore, he doesn't bring those up. "It was absolutely lovely. A very homey feel."
Youthful memories can say a lot for an elf. Is it rude to ask one how old they are? Probably. His experiences with elves and their culture are extremely limited. And if Estinien does not recognize Toussaint, he cannot imagine he's from the Continent. Even elves would have heard of Toussaint.
Though that does make him wonder if Estinien's valley was once what Dol Blathanna, in its full glory, looked like.
Jaskier gives a little laugh. It is laughable, the idea that anyone shouldn't know who the Witcher is. But, of course, all that fucking work only exists on the Continent. Not here. Still. "I imagine you've seen him. Hard to miss. Gwynbleidd, as your people would call him." The Elder Speech slips off his tongue easily; that name, at least, he's learned to pronounce well. He's had little time lately to practice his Elder, the language of the elves. "Geralt of Rivia. Long white hair, gold eyes, lots of scars. Stuck down here with the rest of you." He skips the part where Himeka's description of Estinien is exactly how he would describe Geralt. "He's a bit abrasive at first, but I assure you, his heart is made of solid gold." He pauses. "But gods, don't let him know I said that."
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Youthful memories can say a lot for an elf. Is it rude to ask one how old they are? Probably. His experiences with elves and their culture are extremely limited. And if Estinien does not recognize Toussaint, he cannot imagine he's from the Continent. Even elves would have heard of Toussaint.
Though that does make him wonder if Estinien's valley was once what Dol Blathanna, in its full glory, looked like.
Jaskier gives a little laugh. It is laughable, the idea that anyone shouldn't know who the Witcher is. But, of course, all that fucking work only exists on the Continent. Not here. Still. "I imagine you've seen him. Hard to miss. Gwynbleidd, as your people would call him." The Elder Speech slips off his tongue easily; that name, at least, he's learned to pronounce well. He's had little time lately to practice his Elder, the language of the elves. "Geralt of Rivia. Long white hair, gold eyes, lots of scars. Stuck down here with the rest of you." He skips the part where Himeka's description of Estinien is exactly how he would describe Geralt. "He's a bit abrasive at first, but I assure you, his heart is made of solid gold." He pauses. "But gods, don't let him know I said that."