It was the night that geralt had left him. stranded. alone. no better that it was on the top of a mountain.

after spending hours trekking through the rain, slipping and falling over himself, he found himself in a nice warm tavern Usually, he would introduce himself, sing, and be the centre of attention! that's who jaskier was.

Yet, here he is. Sitting in the corner, his hand gripping a cup of ale and twisting it in his wrist, watching the amber liquid slosh and swirl against the sides, like a tiny storm in a cup. His brows were furtowed , a frown etched into his face, a slight hint of discomfort as he felt the squelch of his wet, mud cacked boots, wet shirt that clung to his chest in the most uncomfortable way and his damp hair that fell over his forehead.

His head snapped up towards the bar as a rather loud character entered, all smiles and confident demeanour, effortlessly gaining everyone's interest in the best way. They were just like jaskier.

just like him.

" Sing for us ! " shouted a drunken stranger , shouts of agreement following from others.

The man grinned and began picking at his lute. Wow. That voice.

Jaskiers eyes fallowed the other as they dance and pranced, wooing the others! His eye twitched.

just as the song ended, their eyes met, his narrowed and jealous and the other confident , charming, smug.