[ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + the Queen, Yennefer, Various
When: After Nov. 12
Where: Castle Thorne, Nott, Cadens
What: Geralt goes on an Adventure and has a great time
Warnings: Blood, violence, trauma



(( placing starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

THORNE: the queen + yennefer | kylo | mal | jolene
NOTT: julie | nadine | lloyd
CADENS: jaskier + sam | sam | ciri | jaskier

Comments

[gynvael]

[ The hum is familiar. He's missed it. He hasn't realized how much. Jaskier's pendant has been a decent substitute, but the weight is not the same, nor is the way it rests against his chest. He doesn't need two medallions, of course, but he already has plans for the one Jaskier gave him. His sword is missing a decoration, after all.

He scoffs, though it says something that he doesn't remove the flower. ] It'll recover. Must've strained it.

[ Getting on and off his horse alone while he'd been that injured had been an ordeal. He knows he wasn't as soft as he could've been with his landing, probably fell too heavily onto one leg each time or tripped too often walking. He doesn't remember, really, much of that time. It's a wonder he'd managed to navigate to Nott in the first place. He might not have, if not for the maps Jaskier had laid out for him back when they'd been in Thorne together.

Feels like a lifetime ago already.

He adjusts the splint on his fingers idly. There are faint red marks still around his wrists that probably say too much, but beyond that, much of his visible injuries can be passed off as a brawl, a hunt gone wrong. A bad fall. He'll take it. He hasn't any interest in drawing questions from the population at large. ] Your magic's grown better.

[cointosser]

[Jaskier purses his lips primly.] Yes, strained it. That must be it.

[He can guess how it got to the state it had been in, actually. Either it had been a target of whatever happened to him -- for something most assuredly had -- or he'd slipped and hit it upon a rock or some other object.

He sighs. It's a topic for another day. As it is, Jaskier is only just beginning to ease the fingers that have clenched around his heart for the last few weeks. He truly... there were moments where he was not sure. He was not sure they really would find him again.

And truthfully, they didn't. They did not find him. Geralt found them on his own. In the end, there was nothing they could do.]

I didn't spend all that time doing nothing, you know. [As if it was only another break between their meetings. The winter on the Path. Though winter often lasted much longer, and he's no longer sure it ever really comes to Cadens.

The flower looks absolutely ridiculous on him. It truly does say enough that he leaves it there.

Jaskier slides over, patting the space of the bed beside him.] You might as well get more sleep without Sam's proddings while you can.

[gynvael]

[ Silence is all he gives in reply, though he does look at Jaskier, his gaze steady. He almost says it. Everything that happened. It burns inside him. He's told no one, but Jaskier knows him better than anyone else. He is perhaps the only person in this place Geralt thinks he could tell, if he ever chose to. The question is whether he will.

For now, he does not. It's too raw. He takes the invitation instead, carefully settling in beside Jaskier. He supposes he could return to his own bed, but he tells himself that the walk back isn't worth it. He may as well stay here. (It has nothing to do with the fact that he'd rather not be alone.)

He takes the flower from his hair, turning it between his fingers. His life has never been especially peaceful, but he's tired of the turmoil. The world that presses down around them with its edges of war and strife and pits of vipers. He misses, more than ever, his real home. There is no place here where he can take the people most important to him, no walls to keep them safe behind.

Sleep comes difficult. He's always slept like shit, but more so now. He stays, anyway, watching Jaskier doze into the late morning. ]