He hears what Estinien is saying; it's all very fascinating, an intriguing tale, and it's hard not to notice how obviously personal it is to the elf. But truth be told, Geralt can only absorb it for what it is: a story, a tale, neatly wrapped. The kind Jaskier so loves to compose his songs about.

Bet Jaskier could spend hours with Estinien, digging out stories of champions and sorrowful dragons. Maybe he'll introduce them at some point.

"A happy ending," he replies simply. Sounds pleasant. Makes him curious what isn't being said—but the politics of another sphere isn't his main concern under the circumstances. When he looks back, there's a question in the tilt of his head. "You've told me plenty about your friend. What about you?"

He's sized the elf up some; a fighter, he thinks, or simply someone who does hard labour. Hell of a lot taller than the elves he's familiar with.