ancient sea chapter update
Mar. 18th, 2020 02:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via https://ift.tt/2x8rMo8
Chapter 6: Tongue Tie
featuring Jaskier and Yennefer. Please see TWs in chapter notes.
ha, i am getting no fucking writing done lately, but i did manage to edit this.
Jaskier went to his armoire and pulled out a bottle of wine and started drinking as he went back to the page with the poem scraps.
He’d gotten some themes, a few really vibrant images, and about half a stanza down when there was a gentle rapping at his door. “Fuck,” he said, as his concentration snapped and the image he’d been contemplating shattered into little bits. No, no, he’d come up with another. It was fine. He stuck the pen back in its holder and wandered over to the door, limping as he realized he’d been sitting funny and couldn’t feel one of his legs.
Ooh, and he’d also had rather more of the wine than he’d thought. Mm he was a little light-headed. Not wise, Julek, he thought to himself, and the old name was like a stinging slap in his mind that he had to shake off. Cautiously, he opened the door a crack and peered out.
“Fucking Yennefer of fucking Vengeberg,” he said mildly, in some surprise.
“Is that what you call me now?” she said, amused.
“It’s what I’ve always called you in my head,” he said, taking his shoulder away from the door so it could open. “I just don’t usually say it aloud. I’ve had rather a bit of wine and I’m quite emotionally vulnerable, as it happens, so if you were planning on finishing me off now’s the time.”
She swept in the door, carrying a largeish bag on her back with some sticks or rods or something poking out of it. “I wasn’t, actually,” she said, “but if you want me to, I’ve some time to spare. Is there any wine left?”
Chapter 6: Tongue Tie
featuring Jaskier and Yennefer. Please see TWs in chapter notes.
ha, i am getting no fucking writing done lately, but i did manage to edit this.
Jaskier went to his armoire and pulled out a bottle of wine and started drinking as he went back to the page with the poem scraps.
He’d gotten some themes, a few really vibrant images, and about half a stanza down when there was a gentle rapping at his door. “Fuck,” he said, as his concentration snapped and the image he’d been contemplating shattered into little bits. No, no, he’d come up with another. It was fine. He stuck the pen back in its holder and wandered over to the door, limping as he realized he’d been sitting funny and couldn’t feel one of his legs.
Ooh, and he’d also had rather more of the wine than he’d thought. Mm he was a little light-headed. Not wise, Julek, he thought to himself, and the old name was like a stinging slap in his mind that he had to shake off. Cautiously, he opened the door a crack and peered out.
“Fucking Yennefer of fucking Vengeberg,” he said mildly, in some surprise.
“Is that what you call me now?” she said, amused.
“It’s what I’ve always called you in my head,” he said, taking his shoulder away from the door so it could open. “I just don’t usually say it aloud. I’ve had rather a bit of wine and I’m quite emotionally vulnerable, as it happens, so if you were planning on finishing me off now’s the time.”
She swept in the door, carrying a largeish bag on her back with some sticks or rods or something poking out of it. “I wasn’t, actually,” she said, “but if you want me to, I’ve some time to spare. Is there any wine left?”
