Geralt was suitably sour as they enjoyed their very fine dinner and a bit more very fine ale to accompany it. Thankfully, they talked no more on poor Roach IV, or the current lovely Roach V, and a few good drinks and a wealth of good food had Jaskier tipsy, happy, and back to his normal self. It was a testament to how comfortable the beds in this particular establishment were that, when confronted with a handsome bed partner and several free hours, Jaskier actually couldn't turn the night into something ridiculous and carnal.
No, the moment his tipsy head hit the feather pillow (and it was a very soft pillow with very smooth linens) he was out and snoring.
The sun had barely been down.
In Jaskier's opinion, had he been awake to give it, this was an utter waste of a very ideal arrangement...but he was not awake, not until just before dawn when Geralt dragged him out of bed and into the quiet, misty streets of Oxenfurt. Roach, at least, got to sleep in some--the farrier wouldn't be in and finished until mid-morning at the earliest--but even sleepy Jaskier (cad that he was) couldn't begrudge her the warmth of her stall. She deserved a comfortable morning.
"Alright," Jaskier said as he fiddled with the fine tuning on his lute and started idly strumming a chord. He hadn't played the night before, nor all that day, and his fingers were starting to itch. He'd planned on playing at some of the creatures already, but strumming whilst they walked in the bluish light of the early morning? That hadn't been his original intent. "Today we pick a horse! I can feel it, Geralt, we're going to be lucky."
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No, the moment his tipsy head hit the feather pillow (and it was a very soft pillow with very smooth linens) he was out and snoring.
The sun had barely been down.
In Jaskier's opinion, had he been awake to give it, this was an utter waste of a very ideal arrangement...but he was not awake, not until just before dawn when Geralt dragged him out of bed and into the quiet, misty streets of Oxenfurt. Roach, at least, got to sleep in some--the farrier wouldn't be in and finished until mid-morning at the earliest--but even sleepy Jaskier (cad that he was) couldn't begrudge her the warmth of her stall. She deserved a comfortable morning.
"Alright," Jaskier said as he fiddled with the fine tuning on his lute and started idly strumming a chord. He hadn't played the night before, nor all that day, and his fingers were starting to itch. He'd planned on playing at some of the creatures already, but strumming whilst they walked in the bluish light of the early morning? That hadn't been his original intent. "Today we pick a horse! I can feel it, Geralt, we're going to be lucky."