Jaskier started as Geralt shouted back at the rancher. His fingers slipped across the strings as he jumped and he grimaced at the sour note that issued sadly from his lute. He worried, a moment, that he'd managed to snag something and knock it out of tune--but then Geralt was yelling back at him to play something happy.
"Wha--" Jaskier looked back up and, all at once, he had a pretty, golden, equine face right next to his. The gold horse nipped at his lute strap and Jaskier stared in abject shock.
Beyond the horse, Geralt was talking with the rancher--he was bartering? For the gold horse? The gold horse that was right in front of him--
Jaskier's whole self lit up, bright and shining. His smile positively split his face and he turned his attention back to the impatient stallion trying to chew through his lute strap. Jaskier's fingers took up their basic positions and he positively crowed as he played. Geralt had asked for something happy and, by all the Gods', Jaskier played a piece that was a mirror of his delight.
"Oh, lovely, no--my lovely," Jaskier sang and the impatient horse went comfortably still and, was it preening? Yes, Jaskier was going to call that preening--it preened as he serenaded it, like it knew the song was for it specifically.
Clever, pretty boy.
Geralt completed the sale--which were four words that Jaskier had expected to dread rather than find utterly joyous--and had a slew of leather straps over his shoulder as he walked down the road to join them. The very moment the Witcher was nearby, Jaskier couldn't contain himself. Geralt wasn't given to displays of affection in private, not big ones, and Jaskier hadn't the faintest how he'd react in public. Fortunately, that lack of predictability didn't occur to him until he'd already thrown his arms wide and caught the Witcher in an open and enthusiastic embrace.
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"Wha--" Jaskier looked back up and, all at once, he had a pretty, golden, equine face right next to his. The gold horse nipped at his lute strap and Jaskier stared in abject shock.
Beyond the horse, Geralt was talking with the rancher--he was bartering? For the gold horse? The gold horse that was right in front of him--
Jaskier's whole self lit up, bright and shining. His smile positively split his face and he turned his attention back to the impatient stallion trying to chew through his lute strap. Jaskier's fingers took up their basic positions and he positively crowed as he played. Geralt had asked for something happy and, by all the Gods', Jaskier played a piece that was a mirror of his delight.
"Oh, lovely, no--my lovely," Jaskier sang and the impatient horse went comfortably still and, was it preening? Yes, Jaskier was going to call that preening--it preened as he serenaded it, like it knew the song was for it specifically.
Clever, pretty boy.
Geralt completed the sale--which were four words that Jaskier had expected to dread rather than find utterly joyous--and had a slew of leather straps over his shoulder as he walked down the road to join them. The very moment the Witcher was nearby, Jaskier couldn't contain himself. Geralt wasn't given to displays of affection in private, not big ones, and Jaskier hadn't the faintest how he'd react in public. Fortunately, that lack of predictability didn't occur to him until he'd already thrown his arms wide and caught the Witcher in an open and enthusiastic embrace.