[He makes a small noise that is possibly dissent; though he agrees with Ciri's steadfast approach to many things, it's clear that matters of the heart are an area where they don't agree. Why do you suspect so? he wants to ask, as if choking the life out of a bond before its begin to spread its roots was a viable response. It isn't. Why can one not have hope in them? In each of them? Even with headstrong fools?
Jaskier recognizes what she's doing. (Perhaps who she learned it from, though he doubts this sort of lesson is genetic nor learned.) Snipping off the ribbon between herself and Alina the moment it has begun to stretch. It is so much easier to cut others off when things get difficult. It is easier to defend one's heart that way.
His fingers ring around his mug as it spins in his hands. Fidgeting, as he imagines what he could say, if anything. It's simply a pain she must go through, as he has gone through so many of his own. Friends and women and men, abandoning him, disinterested, or those who have found others, or simply moved on. Certain men who leave one on the sides of mountains, alone.]
Well, I should like to think hearts know plenty, even if we are far from inclined to listening to them. [Hello. Poet here.] But hearts, like people, are needful little things.
[What he is saying is as easy as you cannot allow yourself to harden so easily, but her calcification is happening in front of him and there is naught else he can do to save it. He can already imagine how Ciri might scoff at the sentiment.] What I mean to say, is... that it is all right to hope for more.
no subject
Jaskier recognizes what she's doing. (Perhaps who she learned it from, though he doubts this sort of lesson is genetic nor learned.) Snipping off the ribbon between herself and Alina the moment it has begun to stretch. It is so much easier to cut others off when things get difficult. It is easier to defend one's heart that way.
His fingers ring around his mug as it spins in his hands. Fidgeting, as he imagines what he could say, if anything. It's simply a pain she must go through, as he has gone through so many of his own. Friends and women and men, abandoning him, disinterested, or those who have found others, or simply moved on. Certain men who leave one on the sides of mountains, alone.]
Well, I should like to think hearts know plenty, even if we are far from inclined to listening to them. [Hello. Poet here.] But hearts, like people, are needful little things.
[What he is saying is as easy as you cannot allow yourself to harden so easily, but her calcification is happening in front of him and there is naught else he can do to save it. He can already imagine how Ciri might scoff at the sentiment.] What I mean to say, is... that it is all right to hope for more.