[Oh. Oops. Jaskier removes his hand before he can, apparently, instill any more pain onto the Witcher. It's rare he's seen him so sore, yet still not the first time.
He huffs.] Oh, you can bet your horse I will. I want an explanation.
[And, perhaps, to thank him. Though he knows Kylo Ren is far from the most sentimental man he's ever met, and he will most likely not appreciate it. Clearly getting Geralt out of that dungeon was not out of some hidden love in his heart.
Jaskier turns away with a laugh, sweeping dirt off his trousers.] I know for a fact she did not say that. [Perhaps something like, oh, Jaskier was a light in the darkness while we searched for you. No. Too poetic. More like what he wishes would be said about him. Maybe He made a lot of bread and it was all right.
Yes. There. Fitting.
He jerks his gaze back over.] With Sam? [Sam, who had indicated that something strange had come between them? Apparently not, now, that lives had been threatened in the meantime. He almost questions the choice, but... well, their home is no longer the quiet echoing the two of them alone on the road. Or even the three of them. Which is mostly Jaskier's fault, but he is not willing to even persuade Rinwell or Hector to look elsewhere. Not when they need the place just as much.
After a moment, he nods. Right. He gets it. At least in Sam's place, there is quiet respite. And Sam... Sam could use the company, too. Now that the others are gone. Now that Alina was the last to leave.]
I'm not going anywhere. [He never intended to.] Though you know as well as I that she does not need anyone looking after her.
[Though he liked to think they had helped each other, the last month. Grown closer, certainly. Jaskier believes he does understand her quite a bit more. Now he's watched her burn people as Geralt has done.
Fascinating, how those things pass on.
There is nothing that prompts Jaskier's movement other than his own heart. He rises to his feet with Geralt, the blackberry bushes shifting behind them, and he pulls him into a hug. Tight, tight enough it's clear he means to hold him for a moment, for two. The strength of Geralt's body against his a solid reminder he is here. Home. Or, at least, Jaskier's home now. He can't imagine Geralt thinks of anything other than Kaer Morhen for that.
I missed you. He had. But he swallows his sentimentality, lest the Witcher roll his eyes at the barrage of it.] Stay in touch. That's all I ask.
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He huffs.] Oh, you can bet your horse I will. I want an explanation.
[And, perhaps, to thank him. Though he knows Kylo Ren is far from the most sentimental man he's ever met, and he will most likely not appreciate it. Clearly getting Geralt out of that dungeon was not out of some hidden love in his heart.
Jaskier turns away with a laugh, sweeping dirt off his trousers.] I know for a fact she did not say that. [Perhaps something like, oh, Jaskier was a light in the darkness while we searched for you. No. Too poetic. More like what he wishes would be said about him. Maybe He made a lot of bread and it was all right.
Yes. There. Fitting.
He jerks his gaze back over.] With Sam? [Sam, who had indicated that something strange had come between them? Apparently not, now, that lives had been threatened in the meantime. He almost questions the choice, but... well, their home is no longer the quiet echoing the two of them alone on the road. Or even the three of them. Which is mostly Jaskier's fault, but he is not willing to even persuade Rinwell or Hector to look elsewhere. Not when they need the place just as much.
After a moment, he nods. Right. He gets it. At least in Sam's place, there is quiet respite. And Sam... Sam could use the company, too. Now that the others are gone. Now that Alina was the last to leave.]
I'm not going anywhere. [He never intended to.] Though you know as well as I that she does not need anyone looking after her.
[Though he liked to think they had helped each other, the last month. Grown closer, certainly. Jaskier believes he does understand her quite a bit more. Now he's watched her burn people as Geralt has done.
Fascinating, how those things pass on.
There is nothing that prompts Jaskier's movement other than his own heart. He rises to his feet with Geralt, the blackberry bushes shifting behind them, and he pulls him into a hug. Tight, tight enough it's clear he means to hold him for a moment, for two. The strength of Geralt's body against his a solid reminder he is here. Home. Or, at least, Jaskier's home now. He can't imagine Geralt thinks of anything other than Kaer Morhen for that.
I missed you. He had. But he swallows his sentimentality, lest the Witcher roll his eyes at the barrage of it.] Stay in touch. That's all I ask.