~ A Bard in the Hand is Worth Two in the Bush ~

"Hey, Jaskier," said another bard, whose name Jaskier didn't quite recall. "Come over here and grab my ass."

"O... kay," Jaskier responded slowly, nonplussed.

He wasn't opposed to some grab-ass but they were in public, and were supposed to perform soon, so this really wasn't the time for hanky-panky. On the other hand, he was curious about the other bard's intentions, and also the guy was kind of cute, so Jaskier sidestepped to within arm's reach of the dude and grabbed his ass as requested.

"No, closer to the middle."

Really, that should have tipped Jaskier off as to what this was all about, but in the moment he did not consider the reason that the other bard wanted his hand in a specific place. Once his hand was positioned to the guy's satisfaction, a hot burst of air was released directly into Jaskier's palm.

He quickly snatched his hand away from the offending ass, backing away from the other bard with a betrayed expression.

"That was a special delivery just for you, from your most bitter rival, Valdo Marx."

"Who the fuck is Valdo Marx?"

"I am Valdo Marx."

Jaskier would definitely remember the name Valdo Marx after this.