doesntsing | open post

"Half of them think you were just joking and didn't take it seriously. The other half think they're different enough to make you change your mind."

Jaskier won't mention the fact he'd be one of those men if he had met her like this. He sips his wine while casually leaning back, putting an arm on the back of Midge's chair just to mock those guys further. Oh, how smug he feels.

He beams at the question. "It was wonderful! Elves make for a great audience no matter the realm, it seems. They like the songs I wrote for their people back in my world, but after tonight, I've been thinking of changing them up a little bit. A reprise to fit their local troubles."

Don’t think she hasn’t noticed, Jaskier. He’s laying it on thick, as usual. The bard is lucky that she’s not interested in any of these men, especially because they might have something to offer her other than friendship and sex.

Also lucky that she’s not looking for much beyond that right now.

“What changes are you thinking of making?” She’s sure the Elves have troubles, but Midge isn’t so involved with the community as to know what they are.

She pick up the bouquet and gives it a sniff, smiling at the sweet scent. “Why a blue one and a black one?” she asks.

"I'll need to study their history to answer that question properly, but the idea is to include local historical events to replace those from my world."

It may take a while, but he has time. The family has already decided they don't want to go home. Hopefully this world will feel like home soon.

"I wanted to do something different, and those colors don't occur naturally. But they're also dark, and I wasn't sure if you'd like a full bouquet of them. So I kept your favorites and only added those two as a little extra magical touch." His hand gestures a lot as he speaks. "Also I don't know how many I could convince Yennefer of making."

Midge gently touches the petals of the black rose. It feels just like any other rose. “They’re beautiful,” she says, “but you’re right. I prefer more vibrant colors. The black is a bit morbid for my tastes.” She glances up at him. “Guess we’re back on that topic, Professor Jaskier.”

The waiter brings her martini and a plate with rumaki, pigs in a blanket and deviled eggs. Midge holds up her glass to Jaskier. “A toast? To new friends?”

He laughs at the mention of the topic. "If you want a date filled with philosophical discussion, you have the right bloke."

The food looks amazing, and Jaskier is hungry. He came right after his performance, so he hasn't snacked on anything since teatime. But he's a man with manners, and he'll never say no to a toast.

"To new friends, and new experiences." He winks as he taps his glass against hers, then he takes a sip of his wine. "You called that one a Martini, right? What is it exactly made of?"

“That’s not what I usually talk about on dates.”

It does make Midge wonder why they’re on a date at all. He said he isn’t going to “court” her. Aren’t dates part of courting? Unless this is a friendship date of some kind. There probably ought to be another name for something like that.

“L’chaim,” Midge replies, clinking her glass against his and then taking a sip. “Gin, vermouth, a twist of lemon and an olive for garnish.” She pushes the glass towards him in case he wants to try it.

"Sharing your glass with a man on the first date? Oh my." Obviously teasing, considering the places they've already put their mouths on.

Jaskier recognizes only the olives and lemon, although the other things do ring a bell. He still takes a sip, because he's always open to trying new things. It's just a little sip, not wanting to take much from such a small glass.

"That's kinda bitter, isn't it?" His nose is wrinkling a little. "I wouldn't have expected it from you. Makes for funny contrast against our conversation about vibrant and morbid."

She quirks a smile at him and watches as he takes a drink.

“Did you think that I drink fruity drinks?” she asks. Midge enjoys a good mai tai every now and then, but her go-to drinks are a martini or old-fashioned, depending on how the night has been.

First dates are normally shallow. Getting to know someone. No religion or politics, especially after their disagreement yesterday. This isn’t really a date though, is it? Not a date that’s going to go anywhere anyway. Why not talk about philosophy?

“Do you feel like those are opposites? Morbid and vibrant?”

"Hey, fruity drinks are great."

He has a sweet tooth, and coming to this world has been a blessing. Everything has so much flavor! And chocolate? Mindblowing.

"That's actually a really good question." And he means that. He loves how smart she is. Good fucking isn't hard to find, but good companionship? That's a different deal. He munches on a pig-on-a-blanket while thinking about how to answer.

"I used those words because they came up in our conversation, so it was initially part of the teasing. But if we examine it closely, then-- it depends on the meaning we're going for. If it's only 'vibrant' as in the shade of a color, then no, they aren't opposites. Blood can be vibrant. The brightest green I've seen came from a monster." Not gonna detail what part of the monster, since it's disgusting and they're eating. "But 'vibrant' is also something alive, full of spark and energy. And in that case, then yes, it's the opposite of morbid. That said, a good story may have both. A good outfit may have a morbid touch and still be vibrant."

She smiles at his assertion about fruity drinks and then listens to his explanation while munching on a piece of rumaki.

“I think you’re right,” Midge replies. “That’s a good analysis. I guess the better question is if one is better than the other. Personally, I prefer vibrancy in most aspects of my life. There’s such a thing as having a morbid sense of humor, which I generally don’t think I have.”

"Oh, vibrancy is the superior choice, no question."

He tries the rumaki next, being his first time with that one. It's quite delicious, he'll have to ask for the name later.

"Geralt calls me a hedonist for a reason - I think enjoyment should always be the biggest part of our lives. And that's why I like you - because your vibrant preference matches mine. But that doesn't mean I completely turn down morbid. I have sad songs, infuriating songs. Songs about death and betrayal. Those matter too - we just need to keep an eye on the amount. Not let it take our happiness from us. Which is why people develop a morbid sense of humor."

A pause to sip his wine. "For the record, if morbid is the only humor someone has, then I shall agree with you - it's depressing. But being able to joke about the morbid is a useful skill. And I believe people in certain jobs develop it as a matter of survival. If they don't learn to joke about it, then the darkness will consume them."

Another pause as he looks at her, considering his options. "I'm not Geralt, but I can't deny that two decades on his side, in his line of work, have taught me that skill too. It's rare, since I turn to irony more than to morbid humor. But it may happen. And if it makes you uncomfortable, you just have to let me know".

Because Cirilla sure does like complaining about it.

A lot of what he has to say resonates with her. They really are more alike than Midge would care to admit, though she would like to think that her ego is not as large as Jaskier’s. Still, his confidence is attractive. It’s not all bluster.

“Morbidity and morbid humor has its place, and I think all of us have some of it inside of us. As annoying as it is when a person is depressed all the time, it’s equally annoying when they’re happy all the time. I’d argue that’s actually worse.”

Hunting monsters for a living means that Geralt has probably seen some horrible things. Midge supposes it must be like that for soldiers or cops who solve murders. Morbid humor at least injects some levity into a miserable job.

“I don’t mind if you’re morbid sometimes,” Midge says, “but if you start grunting at me I’ll have to snap you out of it.”

It's hard to find someone with an ego bigger than Jaskier's. And thank goodness for that.

"I don't know if I'd call it worse, but I do agree that the other extreme is equally bad. Having a good cry is as important as having a good laugh."

And speaking of having a good laugh: the mention of grunting makes Jaskier laugh pretty hard. Seeing people being comfortable around Geralt and even teasing him because they haven't learned witcher bigotry in this world is still amazing, and Jaskier loves it everything. Not to mention Midge is just a funny lady, obviously.

"Aww, but I make such a great impression!" He frowns in the most exaggerated way he can achieve, making his voice deep and raspy. "Mmmh. Jaskier, don't touch that. Mmmh. Stop putting your sausage in the wrong pantry. Mmh."

Fortunately, Jaskier comes off as so gregarious that his ego is seen mostly as confidence rather than bravado. Midge would like him significantly less if he was haughty and looked down on people.

She snorts a laugh at his impression of Geralt. “There’s a wrong pantry for sausage?” she asks.

He's in the middle of biting a deviled egg when she asks her question, so he almost chokes when he laughs. Give him a minute while he coughs it out.

"Not a literal sausage!" he exclaims between chuckles. "You are the right kind of pantry."

Midge stares at him for a moment until it hits her. “Oh.” She’s never heard that particular euphemism before.

“Do you mean that I’m the right kind… because I’m a woman?” Midge asks.

She doesn’t know how Geralt feels about Jaskier sleeping with men. He did say that where he comes from is even less accepting than here in that regard. But then, would Geralt be Jaskier’s friend if he was judgmental about the bard sleeping with men?

Her face when she figures it out is adorable, and Jaskier wishes he could have a picture of it.

"Oh gods, no." He looks horrified by the idea of Geralt hating him for that. "He doesn't like it when my fucking gets us in trouble, that's all. For example--"

His lovers may be married people. Right. Not mentioning that.

"--it may be women who were supposed to stay 'pure' until marriage and are going against their father's wishes. Or high-society ladies who shouldn't be touching a 'dirty' travelling bard. I've had many angry fathers and brothers threatening to cut my cock off for 'sullying' the women in their lives. Men aren't the wrong pantry for being men, the wrong pantry is not being careful about my flirting. Not hiding it may mean trouble too. Dangerous trouble." His voice and face have turned more serious at the end. He reaches for Midge's hand and gives it a squeeze. "I was only able to talk to you about it because Brandon did."

She nods, looking at his hand.

“What’s to say our fucking won’t get you in trouble?” Midge asks with a little smile. “Or is it different with me because I’m already… ‘sullied’?”

Midge doesn’t like that implication, that a woman’s worth can be boiled down to whether or not she’s had sex and who she’s had sex with. She doesn’t think Jaskier buys into that bullshit, and she’s mostly playing devil’s advocate by asking him that question.

She can guess what her parents would think of him though. In a practical sense, he doesn’t have much to offer her other than sex and companionship.

He laughs again. Gosh, she's so good at doing that. If she doesn't become the most successful comedian of a lifetime, he'll be so mad at the world.

"You're an independent woman who is already breaking your gender rules and understands what I'm offering, instead of expecting me to bring more." He explains genuinely. Her smile shows she's teasing, but since they're touching a serious subject, it's not a bad idea to be clear about some things. "So you already are a more fitting pattern than probably three-fourths of the lovers I've had in the past. However, you're right, I can't be sure. You like trouble. And so do I." He winks. "Not to mention that your father would probably also want to cut my cock off."

“I do like trouble,” Midge admits. “Being a divorcee or widow does give a woman a certain kind of power. Society thinks we’re already used. There aren’t as many expectations, sexually.”

That’s why she’s seized this opportunity. When else in her life will she get to explore her sexuality for sexuality’s sake? Jaskier has no expectations of her and, for the most part, society doesn’t care who she’s fucking or why. Jaskier’s handsome, funny, clever and very good in bed. He’s the perfect person for something like this.

“He may want to cut your cock off, but he won’t,” Midge says idly. “Jews don’t cut all of it off anyway. Just the tip.”

Not to open up yesterday’s disagreement again, but Midge couldn’t resist the joke.

"And what a pile of crap that line of thinking is," he replies with obvious distate. "You aren't used. But I can't deny the power aspect, and it delights me to see you embrace it."

This is the first time a joke of hers doesn't land, and Jaskier eats some more to hide his lack of laughter. Not going to ruin the date by bringing up that argument again.

He only talks after taking another sip of his wine. "Does that mean I do have a chance of charming your mother?"

Midge drinks her martini as well. Apparently he’s serious about his dislike of the practice. She won’t bring it up again, not even to joke about it.

“Possibly,” Midge replies. “She’s much more easily charmed than Papa, and you’re quite charming.”

"Takes one to know one," he replies between bites. Thinking about the whole concept of meeting the parents makes him pause, and he has another bite before talking again. "I hope this isn't a bad question to ask, but I'm curious - a charming lady like you, how did you get along with your in-laws?"

Is this another thing he may be put Joel on the fucking stupid list?

‘Meeting the parents’ seems kind of unnecessary in this situation, unless one of them happens to catch she and Jaskier in the act. Midge prays that never happens.

“Oh, we get along well,” she replies. “My family and Joel’s family still do a lot together because of the kids.” She sighs. “I’ve… forgiven him for what he’s done, at least in so much as we can both raise our children together.” Fighting and bitterness wouldn’t be fair to the kids.

Oh, no, not the sigh. It breaks his heart. Jaskier brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

"I didn't mean to get you all serious, I just thought meeting the in-laws usually comes with funny stories. But I'm glad you're making it work for the kids." A long pause. He stares at his rings on his hand and the lute on the chair. "I haven't seen my blood family since I was 16. I may tell you the story some day, but for now, I only want you to be sure you know you're doing a fantastic job. I know broken, and you aren't it."

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