[ it’s comforting, truly, that jaskier doesn’t seem at all in pain. whether it’s the potion working, or something else, the shifts in his expression are at some curious, at times soft, but generally in-edges by the level of pain he must be in. sam notices his fingers curling, and worried that it may be a tightening of muscles and tendon, sam slides his fingers between jaskier’s. he doesn’t think much of it, about the gentle way his hand settles in jaskier’s, but another glance shows him the potion is working. that jaskier’s arm will be okay.
his attention shifts up at the appearance of another figure, and he allows himself the easy smile upon seeing geralt, with a green eyes girl on his shoulders. geralt and ciri, yennefer and moglad. sam watches them all come to jaskier’s side, worry and concern and companionship, all in different ways.
sam blinks, the sudden thought of a family at a sick loved one’s bedside filtering through. jaskier makes some comment about his kitchen, about being busy, and sam squeezes his hand. ] It deserves a chance to be used. It’s been a while since I cooked for so many.
[ so many, all brought together through jaskier. so many, all here just for him. of, maybe, it’s more apt to say - so many that jaskier would want, here. in the tunnels, the visions sam had and had shared were all of the darker sort, traumatic events laid plain and open. here, jaskier brings him a family. his family.
( and sam, in some distance way, feels almost like he’s intruding. a bystander, in an otherwise private moment. )
the smell that wafts through the room is warm, seasoned, stew. sam feels his own stomach grumble, at it, and even if he knows none of this is actually real, he can’t help but eye the way this yennefer squeezes jaskier’s hand. how she makes room for ciri, one of her arms going over the young girl’s. ]
Jaskier… [ sam says softly, trying to get his attention. ]
no subject
his attention shifts up at the appearance of another figure, and he allows himself the easy smile upon seeing geralt, with a green eyes girl on his shoulders. geralt and ciri, yennefer and moglad. sam watches them all come to jaskier’s side, worry and concern and companionship, all in different ways.
sam blinks, the sudden thought of a family at a sick loved one’s bedside filtering through. jaskier makes some comment about his kitchen, about being busy, and sam squeezes his hand. ] It deserves a chance to be used. It’s been a while since I cooked for so many.
[ so many, all brought together through jaskier. so many, all here just for him. of, maybe, it’s more apt to say - so many that jaskier would want, here. in the tunnels, the visions sam had and had shared were all of the darker sort, traumatic events laid plain and open. here, jaskier brings him a family. his family.
( and sam, in some distance way, feels almost like he’s intruding. a bystander, in an otherwise private moment. )
the smell that wafts through the room is warm, seasoned, stew. sam feels his own stomach grumble, at it, and even if he knows none of this is actually real, he can’t help but eye the way this yennefer squeezes jaskier’s hand. how she makes room for ciri, one of her arms going over the young girl’s. ]
Jaskier… [ sam says softly, trying to get his attention. ]