The fire crackled cheerily behind its grate, unaware that it really shouldn't exist where it was. The room was vast and decadent, with a vanity to the right of the fire, a large canopied bed in the centre, and various other luxuries scattered around. If one didn't know, it would be impossible to guess that Jaskier was currently sitting in a tent . Jaskier had done her fair share of travelling over the years and never had she encountered a tent like this, it barely even fit the word 'tent'; it seemed as though there should be another word to describe where she sat, for it was no normal tent.

Perhaps the phrase to describe her surroundings was simply 'magic tent', though that was far too simple and would never work in a song properly. She'd be ridiculed by her peers for not being more inventive with her lyrics—not that that had ever stopped her before. She hadn't cared when her mother had told her she couldn't be a girl, she was hardly going to worry about the critique of bards she had learned alongside.

"What would you call this?" she mused aloud.

Her companion on the couch in front of the fire, Yennefer, raised her head slightly to indicate she was paying attention but still focused on her book. "Hm?"

Jaskier gestured around. "Is there a term for your magic tent?"

"How about magic tent? That works well enough."

"Sure, if you want to be boring." Jaskier tilted sideways until she landed in Yennefer's lap—the book moving to give her space. "I'm a bard, my dear, we like interesting words."

Page finished, or merely less interesting than Jaskier's musings, Yennefer closed her book and looked down at Jaskier. "Construct?" she offered. "Pocket dimension, rift, space expansion, comfort portal. Why are you writing a song about my tent?"

" Our tent, thank you very much," Jaskier said archly (and then melting when Yennefer smiled softly and began carding her fingers through her hair). "And I'm not, though you'd be no help if I were, what kind of a lyric is 'pocket dimension'?"

"I'm a mage, love, not a bard."

"Thank Melitele for that, you'd make a terrible bard. You need to be charismatic to make a living, charm and persuade, you're far too stormy for that." Yennefer's hand tightened into a claw for a moment as she raised an interested eyebrow. Jaskier hastened to add, "Which is why you have me around, so you can be stormy to your heart's content. Stormy is very good for a mage and you're the most wondrous mage I've ever met."

Yennefer rolled her eyes, though she resumed her carding and was smiling when she said, "I'm the only mage you've met."

"Doesn't matter," Jaskier said dismissively. "Even if I'd met all of them, you'd still be the best. You're you, and no one can be better than you."

"I disagree, there's at least one person who's better than me."

Jaskier opened her mouth to argue and then saw Yennefer's smirk and scowled. "If I'm so great, why can't I think of something other than tent for this little display of magic?"

Yennefer leaned down and kissed her softly. "You will. How about we sleep on it?"

Well, it was getting rather late, and Yennefer had clearly finished her reading for the night. Plus, with the gentle massaging of her scalp, Jaskier was getting rather sleepy. Which only went to show that Yennefer was the best because she had clearly seen the signs and knew that a night on the couch—as comfortable and lavish as it was—was not at all good for Jaskier's back.

"Just you watch, I'll end up writing a song titled Pocket Dimensions or something," Jaskier mumbled as she heaved herself up and offered her hand to Yennefer.

Yennefer took the offered hand and then used it to drag an unresisting Jaskier to the bed. "And it will be a hit, just like all of your other songs, my wondrous bard."

Jaskier pulled back the covers and slipped in, blushing just a little. "Oh, get in here and let me snuggle you."

"Surely you can think of a better word than snuggle , love. You just told me you like interesting words." Yennefer showed no signs of joining Jaskier in the—ridiculously opulent—bed until she produced said interesting words and Jaskier sighed. Still, she was a bard, and bards were very good at spinning together words out of nowhere if prompted.

"Draw close to me, my dear. Let us cling to each other as we nestle ourselves down for the night. I will hold you close for all my days and all my nights, and we will lay together until the day is bright." Jaskier gave Yennefer's hand a little tug. "Happy now?"

Yennefer smiled and allowed herself to be pulled in, wrapping her arms around Jaskier as her magic pulled the blankets on top of them. "Very," she replied.