wiedzminka: (one hundred & twelve.)
ℭ𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞 ([personal profile] wiedzminka) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs 2022-01-19 08:43 am (UTC)

[ If Jaskier could see better through his shirt, he might have seen Ciri sort of... deflate, too. She'd run in all tension and defensive confusion, and she hadn't known at all what to expect.

This both is and isn't a surprise. Jaskier does look thoroughly in need of assistance, and also unusually rough around the edges. Ciri's back is covered in bruises all the time (occupational hazard); Jaskier does not often look like he's been in some sort of brawl.

Ciri sighs, and steps forward to help him. ]


Hold still.

[ Reaching up, Ciri gently untangles Jaskier's hair from the offending closure, tugging the collar down the rest of the way over his head. ]

There.

[ She can sense the nervous energy coming off of him, the wound-up tautness in his limbs, like an animal about to bolt. Or spring.

Ciri smooths a shoulder of his shirt down with her palm, soothingly. Fighting her own urge to grip him hard and demand answers.

Something is very wrong. ]


I could not have this conversation like... that. I needed to be here. [ She explains, to head off any complaints over why she hadn't answered. Her tone, strained but calm, is a lie, not at all in sync with the reality of her frantic heartbeat pummeling the insides of her ribs. ]

Tell me what happened.

Please.

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