Please, Viktor. There's no point. We can toss the blame at one another back and forth for an hour, but all that matters now is that we're both in one piece. I don't want to hear it.
[ Largely, this is because she doesn't want to keep dwelling on how badly she'd fucked up for both of them. It's not entirely her fault, sure-- but it's more her fault than Viktor's. She should have been paying more attention out in the desert instead of feeding her horse treats and letting Viktor wander about. She should have been more careful, not gotten over-reliant on her magic when she knows it's not reliable. There are so many things she can think of in hindsight that could have prevented this whole situation, but none of them are relevant at this point in time. They could drive themselves crazy trying to backtrack for no reason. She just wants to move on.
So she'll have a bath and clean up as well as she can, take stock of her injuries, find something else to wear until her clothes can also be washed. She'll take her time, focusing on each step to the exclusion of other thoughts as much as she can help it. At some point, she remembers to reach out to Jaskier, realizing with a sinking discomfort that he'll probably worry-- and that doesn't really go as well as she'd hoped, either.
In the end, the bath doesn't improve her mood too much. Ciri emerges wearing only towels, and carrying a too-big dress to change into, awkwardly borrowed from the innkeeper's wife.
She looks disproportionately relieved to find that Viktor has not only procured more food, but also ale. And supplies. She'd just been gearing up to go talk to the apothecary herself and trying to decide if there's a temporary bandage she could make to keep from bleeding on the borrowed clothes. Now, it's one less thing to do. ]
Good thinking.
[ She sits back down, reaching back to gingerly touch the gashes on the back of her shoulder and see if they're still bleeding, which was a slight problem after the bath. ]
I'll need your help. How good are you with a needle and thread?
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[ Largely, this is because she doesn't want to keep dwelling on how badly she'd fucked up for both of them. It's not entirely her fault, sure-- but it's more her fault than Viktor's. She should have been paying more attention out in the desert instead of feeding her horse treats and letting Viktor wander about. She should have been more careful, not gotten over-reliant on her magic when she knows it's not reliable. There are so many things she can think of in hindsight that could have prevented this whole situation, but none of them are relevant at this point in time. They could drive themselves crazy trying to backtrack for no reason. She just wants to move on.
So she'll have a bath and clean up as well as she can, take stock of her injuries, find something else to wear until her clothes can also be washed. She'll take her time, focusing on each step to the exclusion of other thoughts as much as she can help it. At some point, she remembers to reach out to Jaskier, realizing with a sinking discomfort that he'll probably worry-- and that doesn't really go as well as she'd hoped, either.
In the end, the bath doesn't improve her mood too much. Ciri emerges wearing only towels, and carrying a too-big dress to change into, awkwardly borrowed from the innkeeper's wife.
She looks disproportionately relieved to find that Viktor has not only procured more food, but also ale. And supplies. She'd just been gearing up to go talk to the apothecary herself and trying to decide if there's a temporary bandage she could make to keep from bleeding on the borrowed clothes. Now, it's one less thing to do. ]
Good thinking.
[ She sits back down, reaching back to gingerly touch the gashes on the back of her shoulder and see if they're still bleeding, which was a slight problem after the bath. ]
I'll need your help. How good are you with a needle and thread?