Geralt's mouth twists in irritation at the attention that Jaskier draws to his... pretention, to the fact that he did, in fact, adopt an entirely new way of speaking just to sell that he's from a place that he'd never actually even been to at the time. His Rivian accent was terrible in the beginning, too, and he really only was able to get by on it because he'd started out so far north that no one really knew what a Rivian accent was supposed to sound like anyway.
He isn't sure if the fact that Jaskier approves of the Eric part of his name makes it better or worse.
"You don't look like an Alfred," he says. "Maybe a Julian, if you'd ever keep your doublets buttoned."
But Jaskier could never seem to remember that his doublets are supposed to stay closed, as are his chemises. The number of times he's started a night with the thing done up properly, only to emerge at the end of it with the doublet wide open and the top buttons of the chemise liberated as well, a broad swathe of hairy chest on display. Scandalous, even in these modern times.
The bard continues with his outpouring of physical affection, pressing his face against Geralt's throat only to pull back with a displeased noise when he encounters stubble. He hadn't gotten around to shaving in the past few days, and on the road he'd had to be perfunctory and quick, so it had been some time since he'd last had a good shave. If he hadn't already known that Jaskier's as well furred as any bear, he would've thought that the bard's displeasure stems from a lack of being able to grow a beard; he'd be willing to bet good money that Jaskier could actually grow one with alarming speed.
Jaskier's thumb touches the spot where Eskel's knuckles split his lip; it's mostly healed, just a slightly sore scab by now. Geralt kisses the pad of his thumb as it goes by, because it's there and he can.
"He did. It takes force to get through a witcher's skull."
And Geralt had been acting like enough of an ass that force was necessary. But it's all sorted now, and Geralt doesn't begrudge Eskel for the punch.
"My shaving kit is with your bath things," he says, because that's been the easiest way to arrange their toiletries. Besides, Jaskier would sometimes shave him, so he might as well just leave his shaving kit with his oils. "Get it and you can fix at least one thing."
His heavy iron file is also with those things, and he needs that to grind down his teeth. Might as well take care of all these things while he's in the bath, get himself all cleaned and shaved and filed.
no subject
He isn't sure if the fact that Jaskier approves of the Eric part of his name makes it better or worse.
"You don't look like an Alfred," he says. "Maybe a Julian, if you'd ever keep your doublets buttoned."
But Jaskier could never seem to remember that his doublets are supposed to stay closed, as are his chemises. The number of times he's started a night with the thing done up properly, only to emerge at the end of it with the doublet wide open and the top buttons of the chemise liberated as well, a broad swathe of hairy chest on display. Scandalous, even in these modern times.
The bard continues with his outpouring of physical affection, pressing his face against Geralt's throat only to pull back with a displeased noise when he encounters stubble. He hadn't gotten around to shaving in the past few days, and on the road he'd had to be perfunctory and quick, so it had been some time since he'd last had a good shave. If he hadn't already known that Jaskier's as well furred as any bear, he would've thought that the bard's displeasure stems from a lack of being able to grow a beard; he'd be willing to bet good money that Jaskier could actually grow one with alarming speed.
Jaskier's thumb touches the spot where Eskel's knuckles split his lip; it's mostly healed, just a slightly sore scab by now. Geralt kisses the pad of his thumb as it goes by, because it's there and he can.
"He did. It takes force to get through a witcher's skull."
And Geralt had been acting like enough of an ass that force was necessary. But it's all sorted now, and Geralt doesn't begrudge Eskel for the punch.
"My shaving kit is with your bath things," he says, because that's been the easiest way to arrange their toiletries. Besides, Jaskier would sometimes shave him, so he might as well just leave his shaving kit with his oils. "Get it and you can fix at least one thing."
His heavy iron file is also with those things, and he needs that to grind down his teeth. Might as well take care of all these things while he's in the bath, get himself all cleaned and shaved and filed.