[ Her appetite is shit, but Ciri knows better than to drink all this hard liquor on an empty stomach, and she hasn't eaten very well for days. Not that she's gone hungry, of course -- food is fuel that keeps her going, so she's been forcing herself to eat just enough to be reliable, and that's what she does now. Without much attention spared to what she's putting in her mouth, she intersperses drinks with torn-off bits of bread and cheese, whatever meat Sam has provided.
She nods, grunts an affirmative. Bites into an apple like she's committing murder. ]
He trusts you.
[ She blurts suddenly, raising her eyes -- bleary and red-rimmed with drink and unshed tears -- to meet his gaze with a watery but captivating intensity. ]
Comes to you like this. [ Instead of calling me is left unsaid, but the way she grinds the word through her teeth is enough to make the meaning clear. ] Trusted you with Jaskier. With me, back in the cells. [ She hasn't forgotten that Geralt asked Sam to petition for her release, even if nothing had come of it. ]
You mean something to him.
[ It's difficult to tell what Ciri thinks of that; she says it matter-of-fact, but her words are slightly slurred. Her knuckles are white around her cup, but her eyes aren't angry, just dogged and red.
Sam has opened his home and his heart so easily; he offers his help without expectation, and even more strangely, Geralt accepts it. Seeks it. Again and again. Bonds have been forged that Ciri was not privy to, and though Geralt's business is his own, Ciri can't help but feel--
No, not left out, necessarily. It isn't that. But Geralt treats Sam like he's one of them, and he simply isn't.
Geralt trusts Sam, and Ciri trusts Geralt. But right now, Geralt is torn up and half bled out and so far unconscious he can't even wake. And for whose sake? Yennefer's? Her own? It makes her sick.
Maybe it's for the best, then. That Sam isn't one of them. An outsider. An ally. Geralt trusts him--
And Ciri trusts Geralt. More than even herself. ]
You take good fucking care of him, Sam.
[ It's a threat just as much as a concession, or a plea. Slamming her empty cup on the table, Ciri shoves off of her chair suddenly to stand. The back of her hand drags across her mouth, wiping it roughly. Her eyes never leave Sam's. ]
no subject
She nods, grunts an affirmative. Bites into an apple like she's committing murder. ]
He trusts you.
[ She blurts suddenly, raising her eyes -- bleary and red-rimmed with drink and unshed tears -- to meet his gaze with a watery but captivating intensity. ]
Comes to you like this. [ Instead of calling me is left unsaid, but the way she grinds the word through her teeth is enough to make the meaning clear. ] Trusted you with Jaskier. With me, back in the cells. [ She hasn't forgotten that Geralt asked Sam to petition for her release, even if nothing had come of it. ]
You mean something to him.
[ It's difficult to tell what Ciri thinks of that; she says it matter-of-fact, but her words are slightly slurred. Her knuckles are white around her cup, but her eyes aren't angry, just dogged and red.
Sam has opened his home and his heart so easily; he offers his help without expectation, and even more strangely, Geralt accepts it. Seeks it. Again and again. Bonds have been forged that Ciri was not privy to, and though Geralt's business is his own, Ciri can't help but feel--
No, not left out, necessarily. It isn't that. But Geralt treats Sam like he's one of them, and he simply isn't.
Geralt trusts Sam, and Ciri trusts Geralt. But right now, Geralt is torn up and half bled out and so far unconscious he can't even wake. And for whose sake? Yennefer's? Her own? It makes her sick.
Maybe it's for the best, then. That Sam isn't one of them. An outsider. An ally. Geralt trusts him--
And Ciri trusts Geralt. More than even herself. ]
You take good fucking care of him, Sam.
[ It's a threat just as much as a concession, or a plea. Slamming her empty cup on the table, Ciri shoves off of her chair suddenly to stand. The back of her hand drags across her mouth, wiping it roughly. Her eyes never leave Sam's. ]
Call for me as soon as he wakes.