"Luckily for you, you don't have to save your life now. You're in the safest house in the country." He sees those widening eyes, but they don't scare them. He's a man on a mission. "Come onnnn, show me a little. Curiosity is killing me."
Midge looks at the ceiling, feeling very shy all of a sudden. "I... I don't even know what I should sing, Jaskier." She sighs. He's not going to judge her. "One time I was in a musical at summer camp and everyone said I ruined it because I'm a terrible singer."
It's strange to see her get shy over something that isn't sex. Jaskier is about to tease her for it, but then she drops that bomb and-- welp.
"Fuck." He hugs her tight and rubs her back. "Sorry, darling. I couldn't have guessed...· He kisses her softly. "Let's send that memory back to the past where it belongs. You own the stage now."
"Not for singing," Midge mutters. "It's annoying when I step on stage and people assume that I must be a singer."
She rests her chin on his chest. "I'll sing for you if you want me to. Just don't say that I didn't warn you."
Midge sings an okay rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, mostly because she doesn't know what else to sing. It's nothing to write home about, but it's not horrible either.
He's dying to hear her sing, but after that reaction? "You don't have to--"
Ah. Nevermind. Jaskier rests his hands on her lower back and patiently listens to her song with a little smile. It's actually a pretty average voice for someone with no training, not really painful.
"Thank you, love." He kisses her nose. "My ears aren't hurting at all. You're no singer, but it wasn't horrible either. Judging you by a musical isn't fair - I imagine that had hard low and high notes. Like..."
His rendition makes her smile because of how ridiculously dramatic it is. Way to milk a children’s song for all its worth.
“I got in over my head,” she admits. “By the time we all figured out that I couldn’t sing very well, it was too late. Your voice is so soothing though.” She gives him a gentle kiss. “I love to hear you sing.”
"You were already yearning for the stage back then, you just didn't understand how."
Her compliment gets a big smile out of him. He's always hungry for praise and attention, but also, it's important to have a pattern that appreciates what's more important to you.
"Soothing, huh? Will I have to start singing you to sleep?" He thinks about it for a second before he begins to sing a soft version of Mr Sandman.
Her smile widens to a grin when he starts to sing again. She even joins in with him, trying not to throw him off with how off tune she can be at times. Singing with him helps keep her on the right notes though.
Midge kisses him again when he finishes. “I love you so much. Anyone who can’t see how wonderful you are doesn’t deserve you.”
Hearing her sing does take him by surprise, but he's professional enough not to be thrown off. Since she's trying to match him, this time her lack of singing skill is a little more obvious, but still not horrible.
"Hey, those are supposed to be my words," he teases her and kisses her again. "Love you too. And thanks for singing along, that was delightful. Our art isn't exactly compatible, so it was nice to have something to share."
“We could always write funny or bawdy poems or songs together.” Midge takes one of his hands and laces their fingers together. “What would it be like if we were back in your world? Did you ever travel around with any other performers?”
It’d probably be even more difficult for her to be a comedian there than it is here, but Midge would like to imagine a fantasy where she and Jaskier travel around and perform for people.
"You'd be up for rhyming? Because I like your idea." He sounds surprised but also curious about the result.
Her next question makes him pause. Oh, dear. "No. I've collaborated with other musicians, but I've only traveled with Geralt." He squeezes her hand. "I'm afraid we wouldn't have been more than fling back in my world, dear. That is, if your husband let me approach you at all."
She huffs. “Women were treated like chattel where you come from, weren’t they? What if I wasn’t married though? Or my husband had died of a long, lingering suspicious disease?”
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His question makes her eyes widen, her eyebrows raising. “Uhh. Bad. I can’t carry a tune to save my life.”
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There it is.
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"Fuck." He hugs her tight and rubs her back. "Sorry, darling. I couldn't have guessed...· He kisses her softly. "Let's send that memory back to the past where it belongs. You own the stage now."
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She rests her chin on his chest. "I'll sing for you if you want me to. Just don't say that I didn't warn you."
Midge sings an okay rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, mostly because she doesn't know what else to sing. It's nothing to write home about, but it's not horrible either.
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Ah. Nevermind. Jaskier rests his hands on her lower back and patiently listens to her song with a little smile. It's actually a pretty average voice for someone with no training, not really painful.
"Thank you, love." He kisses her nose. "My ears aren't hurting at all. You're no singer, but it wasn't horrible either. Judging you by a musical isn't fair - I imagine that had hard low and high notes. Like..."
He sings the first few lines of Twinkle Twinkle with the drama of a theatre kid.
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“I got in over my head,” she admits. “By the time we all figured out that I couldn’t sing very well, it was too late. Your voice is so soothing though.” She gives him a gentle kiss. “I love to hear you sing.”
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Her compliment gets a big smile out of him. He's always hungry for praise and attention, but also, it's important to have a pattern that appreciates what's more important to you.
"Soothing, huh? Will I have to start singing you to sleep?" He thinks about it for a second before he begins to sing a soft version of Mr Sandman.
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Midge kisses him again when he finishes. “I love you so much. Anyone who can’t see how wonderful you are doesn’t deserve you.”
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"Hey, those are supposed to be my words," he teases her and kisses her again. "Love you too. And thanks for singing along, that was delightful. Our art isn't exactly compatible, so it was nice to have something to share."
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It’d probably be even more difficult for her to be a comedian there than it is here, but Midge would like to imagine a fantasy where she and Jaskier travel around and perform for people.
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Her next question makes him pause. Oh, dear. "No. I've collaborated with other musicians, but I've only traveled with Geralt." He squeezes her hand. "I'm afraid we wouldn't have been more than fling back in my world, dear. That is, if your husband let me approach you at all."
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She huffs. “Women were treated like chattel where you come from, weren’t they? What if I wasn’t married though? Or my husband had died of a long, lingering suspicious disease?”
Look up ‘slow poisoners’, Jask.
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"Then the one keeping your purity away from the bard whore would be your father."