Jaskier insisted that he sing to you as you both lie in bed at the end of a tiring day.
"Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorikstead."
Your eyelids grew heavy as his voice caused a calmness to wash over you. He continued with songs of the faraway place.
"And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no more, when his ugly red head rolled around on the floor."
Jaskier set down his lute and placed it safely into its case before stripping down to nothing and climbing into bed with you. Your faces were only a few inches apart. You snake your hand up to his cheek and caress him for awhile.
"You're a beautiful boy, Jaskier. I don't know if anyone has ever told you that." You whispered to the fragile, yet witty man in front of you. He smiled and you could tell he was almost asleep because he wrapped his arms around your body.
"I love you. I hope you know that." You whisper to him and plant a soft kiss on his lips.
