Peacocks usually don't know the meaning of subtlety. Jaskier knows how to be subtle when he puts his mind into it, believe it or not - poetry requires it, after all, and he knows how enhance shy ladies with gentle, subtle words when the need arises. It's not his preferred mode to exist in, however. Loud is the way to go - loud voice, loud colors, loud presence; let everyone see him and give him the attention he craves.
Oxenfurt turns this behavior up to eleven. Every one here is at least a little bit weird and, thankfully, very open minded. This city has been built on loudness and bright minds. They're also simply used to Jaskier being Jaskier. Here, he feels more free than anywhere else in the world, he can let loose. The songbird is allowed to sing and do his mating rituals without any threats of a cage.
And now that he can have Geralt however he wants, whenever he wants? Of course he's going to show off, to celebrate this newfound happiness through the art of song and the art of PDA. Gotta make the best of it before they go back to travelling through shitty towns where he'll have to sit across Geralt again if he wants to avoid stones thrown at them.
(An irony, isn't it, considering it's those assholes that call him witcher's whore in the first place.)
'Half exasperated and half fond' may as well be Geralt's constant mood around Jaskier, so he picks up on it easily, throwing his head back to laugh as his hand falls on the witcher's shoulder.
"Of course I wasn't subtle! I wasn't trying to be, my dear. I know you don't like riddles. And that performance--" The hand on Geralt's shoulder slowly travels to the side to brush the back of its fingers against the witcher's neck. "--was for you as much as it was for myself."
The hand leaves to grab the cup when the wine is offered, and Jaskier drinks the entire thing because indeed, that's what his throat deserves, and he's pretty thirsty after all that movement anyway. In more ways than one.
"Less grating he says! Oh, you silly witcher, you aren't tricking me anymore - I know what kind of power my voice holds over you now." That's what made Geralt realize what he wants, isn't it? That's the best review he could've ever gotten. "I must confess, however, that I was expecting you to take us to our room after my marvelous dance, not to ask me to sit with you."
But he does so anyway, quickly hopping off the table to sit as they were before, the sides of their bodies touching and fingers landing on Geralt's thigh.
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Oxenfurt turns this behavior up to eleven. Every one here is at least a little bit weird and, thankfully, very open minded. This city has been built on loudness and bright minds. They're also simply used to Jaskier being Jaskier. Here, he feels more free than anywhere else in the world, he can let loose. The songbird is allowed to sing and do his mating rituals without any threats of a cage.
And now that he can have Geralt however he wants, whenever he wants? Of course he's going to show off, to celebrate this newfound happiness through the art of song and the art of PDA. Gotta make the best of it before they go back to travelling through shitty towns where he'll have to sit across Geralt again if he wants to avoid stones thrown at them.
(An irony, isn't it, considering it's those assholes that call him witcher's whore in the first place.)
'Half exasperated and half fond' may as well be Geralt's constant mood around Jaskier, so he picks up on it easily, throwing his head back to laugh as his hand falls on the witcher's shoulder.
"Of course I wasn't subtle! I wasn't trying to be, my dear. I know you don't like riddles. And that performance--" The hand on Geralt's shoulder slowly travels to the side to brush the back of its fingers against the witcher's neck. "--was for you as much as it was for myself."
The hand leaves to grab the cup when the wine is offered, and Jaskier drinks the entire thing because indeed, that's what his throat deserves, and he's pretty thirsty after all that movement anyway. In more ways than one.
"Less grating he says! Oh, you silly witcher, you aren't tricking me anymore - I know what kind of power my voice holds over you now." That's what made Geralt realize what he wants, isn't it? That's the best review he could've ever gotten. "I must confess, however, that I was expecting you to take us to our room after my marvelous dance, not to ask me to sit with you."
But he does so anyway, quickly hopping off the table to sit as they were before, the sides of their bodies touching and fingers landing on Geralt's thigh.