Saw your prompt thingy. Could I get 74 and/or 87 with Geralt and Jaskier?
Sure! 87 is Food, and I think this is excellent for them.
In Geralt’s experience, the food at country inns tend to range from bad to passable, with a few rare extremes of true awfulness. Most of the time his bought meals are made tolerable only by their ability to stick to his ribs. Perhaps people aren’t serving him well-made meals because they fear or distrust him--or perhaps it’s just that most people are terrible cooks. He’s not sure, and doesn’t really care enough to check. Once a decade or so, though, he finds a place serving really good food, and he treasures those golden landmarks like some people treasure the memories of their first kisses and greatest loves.
Tonight he’s found one of those places. Most of the food is merely good. The pierogies, however, are sublime.
“More of these,” he says to the serving maid, gesturing to the wreckage of his plate when she comes with another tankard of the also-excellent ale.
“Sure,” she says, taking the empty dishes, “but you’ll have to wait. Just served the last of that batch to someone else.”
His eyes narrow. “Who?”
“Him across the bar.” She gestures with her elbow, since her hands are full. “I’ll bring you some when the next batch is ready.”
Geralt looks where she’s pointing, and--
Jaskier is sitting across the bar, applying himself diligently to a dish of the astonishingly good pierogies. He hasn’t even noticed that Geralt is here. He’s just eating, in a way that suggests that he hasn’t been doing too well lately. For some reason Geralt finds this desperately worrying.
“Jaskier,” he says, gruffly.
Jaskier looks up, swallows his mouthful of pierogie far more quickly than he should, and breaks into a massive grin. “Geralt! Fancy meeting you here!” He picks up his plate before Geralt can tell him not to, hurries across the room, and sits down at Geralt’s corner table. “Have you had any of these, they’re excellent, I think I got the last of this batch. Unfortunately they’re out of rooms, so I think I may have to be on my way after this.”
Geralt stares blindly into the middle distance for a moment before saying, “I got the last room, you can stay with me.”
The look Jaskier gives him is somehow entirely worth having to wait for more pierogies.
