[ Here is not where Geralt would normally be. Especially not after his last trip inside (after Yennefer). But he'd told Sam he'd come in case tensions grew too taut and in truth, he could use the distraction. If Yen makes an appearance, he'll leave. For the time being, he doesn't bring it up: not with Ciri, not with Jaskier, not with anyone. Mostly puts it aside. No one needs to know, even if it's been on his mind, the whole fucking mess of it. Even if he's certain Jaskier and Ciri both can tell something isn't right with him. That he's been distant, focused on tasks that don't need as much focus as he's giving them.
He leaves Roach tethered to a tree at a distance, where she can graze to her heart's content. Sam's home is both familiar and yet not. He remembers being here, remembers being perfectly at ease in a way he wasn't conscious of. Now that the haze of it has lifted, he's noticing all the little things about it that he'd glossed over on his first visit: the architecture of the house, the furniture that's just a bit too uniform, the materials and equipment he doesn't understand. Like those damn flimsy red cups that he absolutely did not accidentally crush at one point. Even Cirilla being here now, not as a shadow of a girl but as herself, it's...
There was something simple about it. About how he'd settled into that kitchen and helped pack away food and asked Sam about his boat. (A boat he's noticed no longer exists.) A sense of belonging that no longer hovers in the air, but hasn't entirely vanished, either, within him. He isn't certain how to feel about that. It is not a sense that tends to come easily to him, if at all.
As much as Geralt's avoided the crowd, there is one person he intends to speak to: Sam himself. Geralt's gone inside the house, resting against one of the walls in a hallway or sat upon the stairs—somewhere quiet, tucked away, where he doesn't mind being while he waits for Sam to inevitably come inside. When Sam finally does, with that familiar effortless smile he wears, Geralt is about to lift a hand to greet him. Except Sam stops, a flicker of too many things over his face.
He studies Sam for a second. Nearly asks, before he decides against it. If Sam wants to move past it without comment, Geralt can do that. He holds out an unopened beer instead. He knows the one Sam has in his hand has been empty for awhile. ] I've seen goat herders run about less than you.
house + wildcard.
He leaves Roach tethered to a tree at a distance, where she can graze to her heart's content. Sam's home is both familiar and yet not. He remembers being here, remembers being perfectly at ease in a way he wasn't conscious of. Now that the haze of it has lifted, he's noticing all the little things about it that he'd glossed over on his first visit: the architecture of the house, the furniture that's just a bit too uniform, the materials and equipment he doesn't understand. Like those damn flimsy red cups that he absolutely did not accidentally crush at one point. Even Cirilla being here now, not as a shadow of a girl but as herself, it's...
There was something simple about it. About how he'd settled into that kitchen and helped pack away food and asked Sam about his boat. (A boat he's noticed no longer exists.) A sense of belonging that no longer hovers in the air, but hasn't entirely vanished, either, within him. He isn't certain how to feel about that. It is not a sense that tends to come easily to him, if at all.
As much as Geralt's avoided the crowd, there is one person he intends to speak to: Sam himself. Geralt's gone inside the house, resting against one of the walls in a hallway or sat upon the stairs—somewhere quiet, tucked away, where he doesn't mind being while he waits for Sam to inevitably come inside. When Sam finally does, with that familiar effortless smile he wears, Geralt is about to lift a hand to greet him. Except Sam stops, a flicker of too many things over his face.
He studies Sam for a second. Nearly asks, before he decides against it. If Sam wants to move past it without comment, Geralt can do that. He holds out an unopened beer instead. He knows the one Sam has in his hand has been empty for awhile. ] I've seen goat herders run about less than you.