That hum is a considering hum... and a considering hum can be a dangerous one. He is right, isn't he, there's some bullshit witcher logic incoming! Jaskier is bracing himself for something really dumb when suddenly there's a hand grazing his jawline. That's... actually kind of sweet? Huh. He turns his head a bit to kiss and nuzzle those fingers, but all movement stops when Geralt makes his comment.
You gotta be fucking kidding him.
"I thought you being blind to me wanting you since I saw you in bloody Posada was the peak of witcher obliviousness, but somehow you still managed to prove me wrong." The worst part is, he can't even be mad at Lambert for his teasing this time, because he's 100% right. Jaskier sees that frown and tries to make it go away by massaging it with his thumbs. "Haven't aged is a little too much, don't you think? I know I don't look eighteen anymore. I have aged... some..."
But he can't argue with the rest - he does know he looks pretty damn good for his age. And what's wrong with that? Why do these silly witchers need to over-analyze this? Listen to them - selkie or merrow, this is ridiculous. Lambert jokes about it again, and Jaskier can't stop the laughter this time. Once again, the prick is fucking right.
He chokes on his own laughter, though, when Geralt makes his awkward question
"WHAT?!" he asks with that high pitched tone that usually is brought out by monsters and cuckold husbands threatening his manhood. "What the fuck, Geralt?! I'm not talking about my grandmother's sex life!" Which is ironic, because he usually doesn't have any issues gossiping about other people's sex lives, relatives included. But some people are off-limits, and that includes his beloved granny. So here comes the hands-on-his-waist-like-a-housewife stand. "How would you like it if I asked you about Vesemir's?"
Lambert pulls a face and Eskel laughs - although he's wrinkling his nose as well. "You really know what words can stab you the deepest, don't you, bard?"
Jaskier smiles smugly at him and winks before turning to Geralt with a sigh. While he thinks Lambert is funnily right, he doesn't actually want Geralt to drive himself crazy trying to figure it out.
"It's probably a touch of elf blood that sneaked in the family over five generations ago. You know how the history of the Continent goes." He raises his eyebrows at Geralt, a silent equivalent of wink wink nudge nudge. It's incredibly common (at least among nobles) to have some elf blood in the family tree, but Jaskier really doesn't want to bring attention to it because he knows Lambert will have a lot to say about it. He's already mentioned meeting knights when young, more clues is walking too close to the danger line. "I promise I haven't done anything magically stupid, it's just good genes. So please don't worry, would you? Because I know you are, I recognize that face."
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You gotta be fucking kidding him.
"I thought you being blind to me wanting you since I saw you in bloody Posada was the peak of witcher obliviousness, but somehow you still managed to prove me wrong." The worst part is, he can't even be mad at Lambert for his teasing this time, because he's 100% right. Jaskier sees that frown and tries to make it go away by massaging it with his thumbs. "Haven't aged is a little too much, don't you think? I know I don't look eighteen anymore. I have aged... some..."
But he can't argue with the rest - he does know he looks pretty damn good for his age. And what's wrong with that? Why do these silly witchers need to over-analyze this? Listen to them - selkie or merrow, this is ridiculous. Lambert jokes about it again, and Jaskier can't stop the laughter this time. Once again, the prick is fucking right.
He chokes on his own laughter, though, when Geralt makes his awkward question
"WHAT?!" he asks with that high pitched tone that usually is brought out by monsters and cuckold husbands threatening his manhood. "What the fuck, Geralt?! I'm not talking about my grandmother's sex life!" Which is ironic, because he usually doesn't have any issues gossiping about other people's sex lives, relatives included. But some people are off-limits, and that includes his beloved granny. So here comes the hands-on-his-waist-like-a-housewife stand. "How would you like it if I asked you about Vesemir's?"
Lambert pulls a face and Eskel laughs - although he's wrinkling his nose as well. "You really know what words can stab you the deepest, don't you, bard?"
Jaskier smiles smugly at him and winks before turning to Geralt with a sigh. While he thinks Lambert is funnily right, he doesn't actually want Geralt to drive himself crazy trying to figure it out.
"It's probably a touch of elf blood that sneaked in the family over five generations ago. You know how the history of the Continent goes." He raises his eyebrows at Geralt, a silent equivalent of wink wink nudge nudge. It's incredibly common (at least among nobles) to have some elf blood in the family tree, but Jaskier really doesn't want to bring attention to it because he knows Lambert will have a lot to say about it. He's already mentioned meeting knights when young, more clues is walking too close to the danger line. "I promise I haven't done anything magically stupid, it's just good genes. So please don't worry, would you? Because I know you are, I recognize that face."