Jaskier - Julian Alfred Pancratz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whatupbuttercup) wrote2020-04-11 12:23 pm
whatupbuttercup) wrote2020-04-11 12:23 pm
PSL Hypnosis with Monsterbytrade
The court at Cidaris was absolutely the most droll, boring court that Jaskier had ever been witness to--which was an absolute pity because the kingdom itself was rather delightful. Unfortunately, while the cities and towns of Cidaris were lovely and colorful, the court was as dull as dishwater and half as appealing. Normally, he would have declined an invitation to play at a celebration in the Cidarin court, but they had been relatively nearby and they still hadn't managed to replace Geralt's silver blade.
Playing a young Cidarin prince's birthday party was, on the whole, about the least interesting job Jaskier could imagine taking...but it paid well and was easy. So, after talking up the event, he'd asked Geralt to accompany him and the two of them made their way to coast.
The party had gone well enough, even if the night had seemed to drag on.
The boy had only turned ten, so the entertainment had been a bit on the childish side--Jaskier included. He had been specifically requested and had been hired over a whole host of Cidarin bards. He hadn't anticipated anyone wanting his head at this particular event, (not apart from those other bards, at least,) but Geralt had accompanied him nonetheless. He nearly made it through the night unnoticed but, once Jaskier had a request for Toss a Coin, Geralt's anonymity was up. After that, the Witcher had suffered a barrage of questions from the gathered gaggle of young boys. They questioned him regarding every type of monster they could recall, for near on two hours before the pomp of the celebration had forced them to disperse.
Overall, it wasn't the worst way to spend a night. The seaside chateaux they held the party at was removed, private, fairly pleasant overall. They had been granted room and board, their horses taken to the estate stables--there was even a bath waiting for them afterward. It was a firmly middling job that paid well and didn't involve murder. Jaskier called it a win.
Unfortuantely, ever since they'd arrived, Jaskier had a niggling sensation that he was forgetting something. It stuck in the back of his head like a burr caught on fine leggings, but he never could quite grasp it. All night, something about the guests, about the location prodded at him. It wasn't until he was nearly asleep, just drifting on the border of waking and slumber, that it came back to him. He heard the distant sounds of wooden and shell windchimes, the whistle of the ocean breeze, and Jaskier realized they were in terrible danger.
"Oh fuck--" he hissed as he bolted upright, eyes staring at the fine manor room around him with open suspicion. No assassins suddenly leaped out of the woodwork, nothing turned to snakes. He pawed at his chest, wondered if the drink had been poisoned, but no--he felt fine. Maybe she'd forgotten him, eh? It had been years, long years, since he'd last been in this part of Cidaris--surely the lady who owned the manor was just throwing the party for status. She might not have even noticed he was here--yes, that seemed likely.
"Geralt--Geralt--" Jaskier hissed quietly and reached behind him to grab at the Witcher's shoulder and shake him awake. The bed was wider than their usual fare and he nearly toppled over in his haste. "We have to go--"
Playing a young Cidarin prince's birthday party was, on the whole, about the least interesting job Jaskier could imagine taking...but it paid well and was easy. So, after talking up the event, he'd asked Geralt to accompany him and the two of them made their way to coast.
The party had gone well enough, even if the night had seemed to drag on.
The boy had only turned ten, so the entertainment had been a bit on the childish side--Jaskier included. He had been specifically requested and had been hired over a whole host of Cidarin bards. He hadn't anticipated anyone wanting his head at this particular event, (not apart from those other bards, at least,) but Geralt had accompanied him nonetheless. He nearly made it through the night unnoticed but, once Jaskier had a request for Toss a Coin, Geralt's anonymity was up. After that, the Witcher had suffered a barrage of questions from the gathered gaggle of young boys. They questioned him regarding every type of monster they could recall, for near on two hours before the pomp of the celebration had forced them to disperse.
Overall, it wasn't the worst way to spend a night. The seaside chateaux they held the party at was removed, private, fairly pleasant overall. They had been granted room and board, their horses taken to the estate stables--there was even a bath waiting for them afterward. It was a firmly middling job that paid well and didn't involve murder. Jaskier called it a win.
Unfortuantely, ever since they'd arrived, Jaskier had a niggling sensation that he was forgetting something. It stuck in the back of his head like a burr caught on fine leggings, but he never could quite grasp it. All night, something about the guests, about the location prodded at him. It wasn't until he was nearly asleep, just drifting on the border of waking and slumber, that it came back to him. He heard the distant sounds of wooden and shell windchimes, the whistle of the ocean breeze, and Jaskier realized they were in terrible danger.
"Oh fuck--" he hissed as he bolted upright, eyes staring at the fine manor room around him with open suspicion. No assassins suddenly leaped out of the woodwork, nothing turned to snakes. He pawed at his chest, wondered if the drink had been poisoned, but no--he felt fine. Maybe she'd forgotten him, eh? It had been years, long years, since he'd last been in this part of Cidaris--surely the lady who owned the manor was just throwing the party for status. She might not have even noticed he was here--yes, that seemed likely.
"Geralt--Geralt--" Jaskier hissed quietly and reached behind him to grab at the Witcher's shoulder and shake him awake. The bed was wider than their usual fare and he nearly toppled over in his haste. "We have to go--"