The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality
Word count: 3601
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“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.
“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”
“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”
“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.
To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.
If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.
“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”
“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”
“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.
“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.
“As if,” Geralt grunts.
“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.
“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”
“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.
“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”
“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”
“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”
“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”
“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”
“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”
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