Jaskier had a secret. A very well hidden secret that he had crafted a life round and no one seemed to notice the things he couldn’t quite control. Like the aging for instance. How everyone had failed to notice that he wasn’t getting any older was beyond him but people tender to see what they wanted to and as he was just a humble bard people tender to look right past him. Well except for those who saw him as the fine specimen he was but that was an entirely different matter.
Jaskier loved, well love and he loved the passions that came with it. He fell in love as easy as he fell into others beds and he fell just as quickly out of it. He seemed to inspire love and passion where ever he went, drawing attention to him with a flourish of his hand and a charming smile. Some might call he a talented flirt, a well practice rouge who seemed to know exactly how to charm his way into people’s hearts and consequently their beds. Jaskier would say it was his calling, his true gift to inspire love and lust be it with his songs or his charms and there had been many a soul who he had helped find love over the years, pointing them in the right direction when they had seemed completely and helplessly out of the depth. There were couples all over the continent that owed their happiness to Jaskier, not that anyone ever seemed to thank him for it. Honestly if he didn’t get so much joy out of it he might have considered stopping but we digress.
