[ He did. He did, but it's a failure he's determined not to repeat. But he senses what Jaskier is doing, so his only reply is a grunt. ]
Don't get ahead of yourself.
[ He glances over through a curtain of hair. No. They are not the same as they were in those memories. And those memories have not left them the same in exchange. As much as he wishes he could tell Jaskier he'll find his answers one day, that's not how the world works.
It occurs to him Jaskier must've left for Brokilon shortly after stumbling over the prince. For the dying Witcher. That he made a choice in that moment.
Geralt's hand finds Jaskier's leg, gently squeezing his knee.
The Continent had never been peaceful, but this is so much more. For the first time, he is intimately involved in ways he never wanted to be. He can no longer through villages turned to ash and bodies hanged under bridges, ignoring how death clings to him like the mud staining his boots.
He sees this world shifting towards the same violent tempest. Maybe here, they won't be too late. ]
no subject
Don't get ahead of yourself.
[ He glances over through a curtain of hair. No. They are not the same as they were in those memories. And those memories have not left them the same in exchange. As much as he wishes he could tell Jaskier he'll find his answers one day, that's not how the world works.
It occurs to him Jaskier must've left for Brokilon shortly after stumbling over the prince. For the dying Witcher. That he made a choice in that moment.
Geralt's hand finds Jaskier's leg, gently squeezing his knee.
The Continent had never been peaceful, but this is so much more. For the first time, he is intimately involved in ways he never wanted to be. He can no longer through villages turned to ash and bodies hanged under bridges, ignoring how death clings to him like the mud staining his boots.
He sees this world shifting towards the same violent tempest. Maybe here, they won't be too late. ]