DANSE MACABRE [Jaskier]

[05] Great Minds

also known as;

'Mind Games'

I

IN THE COMING MONTHS, they had found themselves as far as Lyria in the mid-autumn: the air much colder than the tail end of summer and the leaves having turned all shades of brilliant orange and majestic purple around them. They had not long returned from a slight intervention with a necrophage or two that same day and Jaskier, now very much adamant that he was never going to eat anything again after seeing a grave hag rip out the intestines of a week-old corpse, leaned against the fence outside of a tavern by the name of The Clever Bat, rubbing at the back of his neck and complaining.

As he usually did.

When things were most definitely not going his way

"I've told her once, I've told her a thousand times," He specified wearily, "Lady Montémon is having none of it."

"Have you considered actually talking to her in person?" Narys suggested casually, mid-way to another spoonful of pea soup. The Clever Bat was not exactly known for it's cuisine. Then again, it was called 'The Clever Bat' - what did any of them expect?

"How can I?" Jaskier asked hopelessly, "Not only is she most certainly burning my letters. I'm here! With you! Watching you eat that disgusting...-" Narys shot him a look, "...-delicious bowl of soup."

"Maybe you should make the trip then. Geralt and I'll be absolutely devastated that you're gone for a while but we'll manage. Don't you think?" She glanced over at the witcher as he chomped down on a turkey leg, for a split second he paused to look at them before he continued.

"See?" Narys nodded in his direction, "He can hardly hold back his tears."

"No, I can't," The troubadour sighed, "That would be...a very bad idea."

"Why are you avoiding her? If you're so besotted with the woman then surely you're going to make the effort."

Jaskier and Lady Montémon had met last year, during a summer salon hosted by her parents. Narys had accompanied the bard as his plus one, proceeded to lose him in the enormous hedge maze in the manor gardens and then find him again, half-naked, behind a marble statue of a sleeping lion and tangled up in the arms of the lady in question. The look of sheer panic on his face as he leapt up to explain himself was a visual that Narys privately snickered at, even now.

"Yes, I know. Evangeline is truly a temptress, but-" Jaskier licked his lips and made a point with his finger, "-her parents might...sort of...skin my hide if they ever found out that I bedded her out of wedlock."

"Ugh...the traditional sort," Narys shuddered at the thought, spooning more soup into her mouth, "Here's a mad idea. Why don't you tell her truth? Shocking I know, but explaining that you're concerned about this to her could ease some of the...well, anger she's expressing towards you as of late."

"Ah, see. That's another thing. She's under the impression that I'm going to marry her."

"Oh wonderful. And you're not the marrying type."

Jaskier gave a high-pitched hum and added, "Depends on the day really. But! No, I can't. I won't. 'Evangeline Selena Pominda Montémon Pankratz' sounds like a dry heave if you say it fast enough."