[ He breathes out sharply. Embroiled in this shit as long as he's been, he forgets how much Jaskier could not possibly know. Any of them. Geralt had not been keeping it a secret, necessarily. He'd simply not imagined it to escalate so rapidly, that he would be absent for weeks. That death would be what triggered the transformation. And though Geralt rarely explains himself in detail, Jaskier deserves more than haphazard truths this time. He doesn't want Dean taking the blame for something he hadn't done, either.
Or perhaps he'd had a touch too much whisky. Enough to loosen his tongue, enough to draw forth all of the things he rarely says. ]
Some time ago, he explained a mark appeared on his arm. A curse. His memories terminated at receiving it. We knew it made him aggressive. Violent. But nothing like this. It was... [ He pauses. ] Tavern brawls. A short temper. The worst of the bloodshed I witnessed was when men attacked me and he intervened.
[ Aggression born of a protective instinct, in other words. Frustration. Emotions he can understand. The demon is something else entirely. Hollow, as he's said before. Empty. No trace of the man he once called a friend beyond superficial cruelty drawing on those memories. ]
He wasn't aware of his near-immortality. I uncovered that possibility. We hoped it wasn't true.
[ It would mean stopping him was an equally impossible task. Impermanent. In truth, Geralt had been searching for a method to remove the Mark as much as he'd been searching for a method to kill the bearer of it should he need to. Neither had born fruit. ]
Dean never lied to me. Humans who dedicate their lives to eradicating monsters are not always the kindest to Witchers. But he was... [ Different. ] He was a good friend. I wanted to try where I failed with Eskel. Maybe I was fucking wrong.
no subject
[ He breathes out sharply. Embroiled in this shit as long as he's been, he forgets how much Jaskier could not possibly know. Any of them. Geralt had not been keeping it a secret, necessarily. He'd simply not imagined it to escalate so rapidly, that he would be absent for weeks. That death would be what triggered the transformation. And though Geralt rarely explains himself in detail, Jaskier deserves more than haphazard truths this time. He doesn't want Dean taking the blame for something he hadn't done, either.
Or perhaps he'd had a touch too much whisky. Enough to loosen his tongue, enough to draw forth all of the things he rarely says. ]
Some time ago, he explained a mark appeared on his arm. A curse. His memories terminated at receiving it. We knew it made him aggressive. Violent. But nothing like this. It was... [ He pauses. ] Tavern brawls. A short temper. The worst of the bloodshed I witnessed was when men attacked me and he intervened.
[ Aggression born of a protective instinct, in other words. Frustration. Emotions he can understand. The demon is something else entirely. Hollow, as he's said before. Empty. No trace of the man he once called a friend beyond superficial cruelty drawing on those memories. ]
He wasn't aware of his near-immortality. I uncovered that possibility. We hoped it wasn't true.
[ It would mean stopping him was an equally impossible task. Impermanent. In truth, Geralt had been searching for a method to remove the Mark as much as he'd been searching for a method to kill the bearer of it should he need to. Neither had born fruit. ]
Dean never lied to me. Humans who dedicate their lives to eradicating monsters are not always the kindest to Witchers. But he was... [ Different. ] He was a good friend. I wanted to try where I failed with Eskel. Maybe I was fucking wrong.
[ Is, was. He no longer knows. ]