[ She had, in fact, phrased it as He menaced me with bread and encouragement, so Jaskier isn't far off. He can tell Ciri is fond of the bard, warmed to him, and he's glad to see it.
Jaskier's surprise is met with not more than a look. He knows what Jaskier is thinking. Jaskier is hardly oblivious, has undoubtedly noticed something has been amiss between him and Sam before. Geralt's never gotten into it and he doesn't now. It isn't important. Not anymore. Sam came to his aid despite it all, and Geralt, in that moment, had not questioned whether Sam would or not. And he's come to realize there are few he can ever rely upon like that, here or home or anywhere. Besides, he can't remember when someone last had recoiled from him, and then come back to apologize for it. It's worth something to him.
So he will stay with Sam. Sam knows not to push him; he'll get the space he needs there. In return, Sam can have a home that isn't so empty. ]
Doesn't mean she can't use someone there. [ No. Ciri can take care of herself. She's likely been on her own, alone, plenty of times. But he thinks, she shouldn't have to. More than that, he thinks Jaskier could use the same. Someone there.
Because Geralt is not. Not as well as he should be. He wants to, he does, but he's been scattered, still can't focus well enough to enter the Horizon, still can't close his eyes for long. He just. Needs time. He's been trying to be patient with it, with himself. As much as he can be.
He steadies himself on the headstone as he rises to his feet. The fresh air's done him good, but he's beginning to tire. When he catches Jaskier reaching for him, he doesn't resist. There's a soft grunt as he's pulled in close and he finds himself holding his friend in turn. He breathes out, lets a part of him unwind a hint. He wants to say, I'm down the road, idiot; it's not as though Sam is far. But he gets that's not what Jaskier means, that Geralt more than has a habit of withdrawing no matter the physical distance.
He can't deny the urge is there. It always is. He also knows he can't do that to Ciri. So. ] I'll be here.
no subject
Jaskier's surprise is met with not more than a look. He knows what Jaskier is thinking. Jaskier is hardly oblivious, has undoubtedly noticed something has been amiss between him and Sam before. Geralt's never gotten into it and he doesn't now. It isn't important. Not anymore. Sam came to his aid despite it all, and Geralt, in that moment, had not questioned whether Sam would or not. And he's come to realize there are few he can ever rely upon like that, here or home or anywhere. Besides, he can't remember when someone last had recoiled from him, and then come back to apologize for it. It's worth something to him.
So he will stay with Sam. Sam knows not to push him; he'll get the space he needs there. In return, Sam can have a home that isn't so empty. ]
Doesn't mean she can't use someone there. [ No. Ciri can take care of herself. She's likely been on her own, alone, plenty of times. But he thinks, she shouldn't have to. More than that, he thinks Jaskier could use the same. Someone there.
Because Geralt is not. Not as well as he should be. He wants to, he does, but he's been scattered, still can't focus well enough to enter the Horizon, still can't close his eyes for long. He just. Needs time. He's been trying to be patient with it, with himself. As much as he can be.
He steadies himself on the headstone as he rises to his feet. The fresh air's done him good, but he's beginning to tire. When he catches Jaskier reaching for him, he doesn't resist. There's a soft grunt as he's pulled in close and he finds himself holding his friend in turn. He breathes out, lets a part of him unwind a hint. He wants to say, I'm down the road, idiot; it's not as though Sam is far. But he gets that's not what Jaskier means, that Geralt more than has a habit of withdrawing no matter the physical distance.
He can't deny the urge is there. It always is. He also knows he can't do that to Ciri. So. ] I'll be here.