[And perhaps Jaskier should not be giving shit to a man who's gone through what he can only imagine Geralt has, but it's been so long, and he so desperately wishing them to come home safe, that -- that it is too easy, too desirable, to slip back into something he knows, that's comfortable.
There is more than just discomfort, faced with Geralt's pain, and his belief he failed his daughter. Somehow. Even if she came home alive.
He can guess that is not good enough for Geralt. That she should not have been there at all.
Jaskier offers his hand in case Geralt will take it to aid getting out of bed, sweeping Mog out of the way before he provides a tripping hazard. But he doesn't expect it to be taken.
Jaskier clears his throat.] I know you won't listen to me. I know well the nature of man, or... man-adjacent. Even if you think you failed her, Geralt, you kept her safe. You did what you could. And you both came home. I don't know what you went through, but I know you would do anything in your power to keep her safe. That, I don't have to guess. I've seen it myself.
[He pushes his too-long bangs out of his face, leading a slow, lumbering path to the bath he has already prepared, and paid to keep hot. Magic, shockingly, has its most domestic of uses. And he has the influence to spring an injured man from his room long enough to clean him.] That's all I'll say on it. I know you hate talking of such things. And I can't change your mind. But... if anything is weighing you down, I hope you know you can talk to me. Whenever you feel you want to.
no subject
[And perhaps Jaskier should not be giving shit to a man who's gone through what he can only imagine Geralt has, but it's been so long, and he so desperately wishing them to come home safe, that -- that it is too easy, too desirable, to slip back into something he knows, that's comfortable.
There is more than just discomfort, faced with Geralt's pain, and his belief he failed his daughter. Somehow. Even if she came home alive.
He can guess that is not good enough for Geralt. That she should not have been there at all.
Jaskier offers his hand in case Geralt will take it to aid getting out of bed, sweeping Mog out of the way before he provides a tripping hazard. But he doesn't expect it to be taken.
Jaskier clears his throat.] I know you won't listen to me. I know well the nature of man, or... man-adjacent. Even if you think you failed her, Geralt, you kept her safe. You did what you could. And you both came home. I don't know what you went through, but I know you would do anything in your power to keep her safe. That, I don't have to guess. I've seen it myself.
[He pushes his too-long bangs out of his face, leading a slow, lumbering path to the bath he has already prepared, and paid to keep hot. Magic, shockingly, has its most domestic of uses. And he has the influence to spring an injured man from his room long enough to clean him.] That's all I'll say on it. I know you hate talking of such things. And I can't change your mind. But... if anything is weighing you down, I hope you know you can talk to me. Whenever you feel you want to.