Jaskier "old-timey fuckboy" Alfred Pankratz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cointosser) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-09-15 10:44 am
cointosser) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-09-15 10:44 am
Entry tags:
someone's out there, sending out flares [closed]
Who: Jaskier and Ciri
When: Post-hospital recovery from the delegate attack, early September
Where: Their home in Cadens
Warnings: Maybe some references to injuries
[The return to Jaskier's home is both relieving and exhausting. Jaskier is free from bandages, with only a few new scars across his chest to indicate that anything even happened to him. Of course he had no complaints when his throat was about to pop like a boil on the Continent, but now -- now the idea that his injuries can be healed magically away with barely a scratch left behind leaves him feeling somehow unbalanced.
Make no mistake. He doesn't wish his body to look anything like Geralt's -- but as he grows older, will he still be able to remember these things? Will he convince himself they happened differently? In a few months, even, history will not care about this.
But he will. Probably.
Ugh. Clearly the blows to the head did something to addle his brain. As he walks, he watches the sky above. Perhaps his usefulness to Marlo has now expired. And now he is left here, ready to contemplate whether he's done the right thing. Is giving the Free Cities even more of an advantage the right move?
Somehow, saving the elves felt simpler than this. He had found his niche. The thing he could do. But this world is still mostly unknown to him.
Jaskier gives himself a flick on the forehead, a shake of his head. He is not going into this morose, simply because of an assassination attempt. He has more important things to do. (It is what he's telling himself.)
Important things, like... writing. He gives a wave to the baker through his window as he turns towards the stairs upward that lead to their home. His message to Ciri is casual and curious.]
When: Post-hospital recovery from the delegate attack, early September
Where: Their home in Cadens
Warnings: Maybe some references to injuries
[The return to Jaskier's home is both relieving and exhausting. Jaskier is free from bandages, with only a few new scars across his chest to indicate that anything even happened to him. Of course he had no complaints when his throat was about to pop like a boil on the Continent, but now -- now the idea that his injuries can be healed magically away with barely a scratch left behind leaves him feeling somehow unbalanced.
Make no mistake. He doesn't wish his body to look anything like Geralt's -- but as he grows older, will he still be able to remember these things? Will he convince himself they happened differently? In a few months, even, history will not care about this.
But he will. Probably.
Ugh. Clearly the blows to the head did something to addle his brain. As he walks, he watches the sky above. Perhaps his usefulness to Marlo has now expired. And now he is left here, ready to contemplate whether he's done the right thing. Is giving the Free Cities even more of an advantage the right move?
Somehow, saving the elves felt simpler than this. He had found his niche. The thing he could do. But this world is still mostly unknown to him.
Jaskier gives himself a flick on the forehead, a shake of his head. He is not going into this morose, simply because of an assassination attempt. He has more important things to do. (It is what he's telling himself.)
Important things, like... writing. He gives a wave to the baker through his window as he turns towards the stairs upward that lead to their home. His message to Ciri is casual and curious.]
Dearest Ciri, do we still have some of that chocolate for the hot drinks left? I'm returning home and I could absolutely use one. With liquor. Oh. And a marshmallow! I think I bought one from the baker a few weeks ago...
no subject
We do. I found the marshmallow. It'll take up half your cup.
[ Not like the little blobby things Nadine had showed her in the Horizon. In any case, Jaskier will find her with the pot already on the stove, boiling water. The apartment is unusually clean, and all the knives are very sharp.
She is in front of the door the moment she hears it creak open. ]
Jaskier!
no subject
[Oh. It is quite clean. When Jaskier steps in, he can already tell there's a difference. And there is Mog, sleeping on his stand... which seems to have been painted in his absence.
And Ciri. Jaskier smiles wide, reaching to grab her and pull her in for a hug.] Hello, my dearest Ciri. How are you? I've missed the sound of your slamming doors and irritable grunting.
[Said so very affectionately. He gives her a squeeze, holding on a little longer than is considered polite.]
no subject
I only slam doors that deserve it. [ She mumbles, more or less into his hair, and eventually pulls back again with a shaky laugh.
Please stop almost dying, fam. ]
Unbelievable. You get out of an assassination attempt and days being tended to by healers and the first thing you ask is how I am?
no subject
[Jaskier's smile in return is as wry as ever. It's very him, though, isn't it? He doesn't wish to discuss the details because they are not fun nor adventurous. And after a week laying in a bed, his mind is begging him to move away from the incident. For something fun.]
Well, yes. I'm certain your answer is more interesting than mine. Which is fine, thank you. They've healed me in every way you can think of, I promise. I did not even attempt to leave before it was finished, unlike some men you know.
no subject
I'm fine. I'm all right.
I--
[ Oh, shit. ]
--left the pot on the stove.
[ To the kitchen! ]
no subject
[For a short moment, Jaskier's chest tightens. Oh. Oh, no. Here it comes. The bad news --]
You what?
[He laughs, following her. Luckily, the pot has not begun to smoke yet. The kitchen is warm. His second laugh seems to be loud enough to wake Mog, who gives a very exaggerated stretch before hopping off his perch, trotting across their home to rub at his ankles. Jaskier coos at him quietly, scooping him up into his lap where the gryphon immediately hides its head under his arm.
Ah. He truly was missed. Perhaps Geralt bullied Mog a little too much.]
It smells wonderful already. [He watches her at the stove, fingers buried deep into Mog's feathers and fur. It sounds so strange to his ears even now. Assassination. Clearly, though, that's what it was meant to be. Would he have died if the people of the Free Cities had not done what was asked of them? He's not sure. But it is likely. The shield was not as complete as it seems it should have been.
Jaskier's gaze drops to Mog as he clears his throat.] Apropos of nothing, have you spoken to Yennefer lately?
[While he does not dare bring up the subject to Geralt -- not yet -- he feels a little safer to prod at Ciri with the question. If he's the only one who knows... that does not bode well.]
no subject
[ She's laughing, breathlessly, running to go stir the pot so all the milk doesn't burn to the bottom. It seems... okay. Hopefully tastes fine. ]
I promise not to burn the whole place down as soon as you've come back.
[ While he sits down with Mog, Ciri ladles some of the hot chocolate into two mugs and brings them over.
The question catches her a bit off guard, but she has no problem answering. ]
Briefly, yes. I wanted to make sure she was... all right.
no subject
He might even get cursed. Jaskier has his suspicions that there may be a bit of magic in those breads --
The bard nods, taking the mug once offered and wrapping both hands around it to warm them. Now that the year is getting on, the nights around Cadens are growing cooler. Certainly it is still a bloody desert, but this place can get downright frigid sometimes.] I was hoping as much. She contacted me when we... when we first woke up, to tell me what happened to her. I haven't yet been able to breach the subject with Geralt. I was certain he would want to know, but. Well. You know as well as I how difficult a subject she has become.
no subject
You want it... in the cup?
[ The subject of Yennefer is certainly easier to broach with Jaskier than it is with Geralt these days, but it's never quite easy. For any of them, probably. When the marshmallow ends up in Jaskier's cup or his hand or however he wants to eat the thing, Ciri takes a seat across from him with a heavy sigh. ]
Yes. I know. Geralt's also spoken with her, enough to know she's... all right.
[ She cups her mug between her palms, uncertain. ]
Except she almost wasn't.
Did she tell you anything... specific? About what happened? All I know is she was attacked with poison and magic of some sort, and injured enough she was laid up in the infirmary for days. I'm not sure she's out yet, honestly.
[ Or if Yennefer would tell her the full extent of it at all or try to protect her. Ciri's brows furrow, clearly worried. ]
no subject
Truly, this may one of his favorite things he has been newly introduced to.]
He has? Good. I'd rather not wanted to be the one to break the news to him.
[Jaskier drinks quietly as she continues. She almost wasn't. He stiffens, putting the mug down, his pinky underneath so it does not make too loud a noise when it's placed on the table. He knows. Yennefer was surprisingly upfront about it. (Because he asked her not to lie.)
He runs a hand through his hair before responding.] She believes a device may have been planted on her dress that triggered it. I... I don't know. I said something -- we spoke in the Horizon -- and she had some thought, but did not tell me what. It's bothered me since then. When it happened to me, there was some sort of... of shield. A bit like Geralt's Quen. Made by insect-like devices. I suppose you saw them? And I mentioned it to her, and she... she sort of went pale.
[Jaskier looks up at Ciri, worry twisting his brow.] Surely Thorne crafted something similar for her? To keep their delegate safe? But I do not understand why she escaped so much for the worse.
no subject
After a moment, Ciri looks up, then lets go of her cup to reach across the table, offering her hand. ]
I saw the device. Each of us were sent one. We weren't told what it did, only that it was meant to protect the Free Cities' delegate. We were meant to follow instructions on its activation and send it on its way. No one was told it was a shield or how it worked.
[ And that's why it's so frustrating. Strange. Why not explain further? A test of loyalty is all that Ciri can think of -- but to what end?
She shakes her head. ]
So far as I'm aware, every Summoned in attendance at Nocwich, regardless of whether they were in Luna or Ikorr, received something similar. I saw others, not with us in the Cities, getting packages in a similar fashion. I'm willing to bet they all had tasks of some sort.
You said the shield was... missing pieces. The little insect machines that didn't make it to you, that weren't wound up and sent out like we were instructed. Right?
[ He can probably see where she's going with this. It's just a theory, but it seems Jaskier's already got a similar one, even bringing it up. ]
no subject
[Jaskier has the same thought: a test of blind loyalty. But if it were a test, would Marlo herself not need to control all of the variables? That would imply she was to blame for his injury, but personally, Jaskier does not believe so. Not because he believes she has much love for him.
He sturggles to wrap his mind around it, though it is likely more exhaustion than anything. He hopes.]
I -- yes. That's how I was injured. I -- well, there was a guard with me, and I moved in front of him. I didn't much think about it. And the shield appeared, but had a few holes in it...
[He pales. Then shakes his head, until he feels like he's about return to bed. Does Yennefer really think this? Does she carry this with her?] The Summoned in Thorne may not have been so eager to follow instructions so lacking.
no subject
[ She and Geralt were both losing their minds with worry, she's sure of that. ]
It was suspicious. I thought, at the time, it might be some sort of covert attack we were being fooled into participating in. Or even a device for reconnaissance in a foreign, little-known land, to gain an edge. It would be like Marlo, wouldn't it? [ What Ciri knows of the woman, and Cadens and its military in general. ]
But the risk was too great. So we followed the instructions.
[ He must know who she means in context. ]
Perhaps the Summoned in Thorne felt... less motivated. Or even more suspicious.
[ Ciri loves Yennefer dearly, but her brand of charming is... not for everyone. ]
no subject
He would have done it, without thought, if it was Sam. But he doesn't know anyone who would not help Sam.
Jaskier sighs, his thought in the same thread as Ciri's. Every time he sees Yennefer, she seems more worn. Who knows what her experience in Thorne alone has been like? She has always sought power, but the company she has kept of late -- in his memories of the Continent -- were lacking, to say the least.]
I doubt she will leave. Even if I can procure her a way to come here. [A silly thought, he chides himself a moment later. It is not any safer here.] I cannot imagine what the people there think of their queen now. Perhaps they are too eager to indulge in her anger.
no subject
[ Ciri props her face in her palm, staring off at something beyond Jaskier. They both know it wouldn't be that easy even if Yennefer did agree. And it's difficult to tell if she'd actually be any safer for it. If any of them would be.
She'd made her choice months ago. They all had. ]
I do not know many people in Thorne. Even fewer in a way I'd describe as well.
But most of the Summoned have no allegiance to the lands they live in now. Why would they?
no subject
[Though he is as in the dark as Ciri sounds as to what Yennefer's ultimate plan is, in the end. Though, now, he's afraid it might be what she promised him --
The death of the Queen.
He wipes his face. Surely she cannot be that foolish? Even if he wished it. (And he still does.) Yennefer has not done things specifically for him. So who? Geralt? Further revenge against Grigory?]
I know a few. A fewer well. But still, I know them. I knew those who were very allied to Thorne. And it is them I think of -- them I hope have seen she is just as cruel as the rest of us suspected. Since what happened to Geralt.
no subject
[ Yennefer knows her way around a court, even one embroiled in war. She knows monarchs and politics. She knows how to stroke their egos and tell them the words they want to hear, knows how to bend people to her whims. Ciri has to believe that. Has to trust her.
Her own political upbringing had been cut short, but some things are obvious. They never change. ]
She started this war. She wants it. Dissidents won't fare well.
No matter what they think, I doubt any are in a position to do much more about it than we are.
[ Except, maybe, Yennefer. And there is the problem all over again.
Ciri pushes her chair back and gets up, going to the counter where the liquor bottles are lined up. ]
Julie mentioned once that hot chocolate goes well with brandy or rum. Which do you want?
no subject
Perhaps it would have, once upon a time. But Jaskier is quite sure she is different, just as he is.
He sighs. Even if he has mostly lost contact with Kylo Ren, he can only hope the man is not so blind he does not see the insanity that lay behind Ellya's actions. That this is not the sort of insanity that will go back to being quiet and dormant. This is a wildfire, and it will continue to burn.
They will both have to trust Yennefer. That she will not be caught up in such a fire.]
Well, even without her mage, she is quite clearly not defenseless. There is a small hole of weakness, but... I can't find it in me to encourage anyone to poke at it quite yet. As much as I'd love to hear the next piece of news be that the queen was found with a knife in her back.
[They're rather cruel words coming from Jaskier, and though he has his moments, it is rare nowadays he truly wishes for the demise of anyone. But even without the deaths she has only recently caused, she crossed a line with Geralt. A line that there is no possible way to uncross.
Jaskier huffs a small laugh to himself. It is so telling that Ciri asks which he wants, not if he wants.] Brandy, I think. Do we really have both? [The smile he gives her is mostly only amusement, and it feels a miracle he can find it at all.] So you two kept some important things stocked while I was gone.
[And, most importantly, took care of his Mog. Who is happily curled up against his boot, belly rising and falling gently, only the occasional shuffle of wings making him look animated at all. When Geralt is home, and it is the four of them again, it will feel... there will be some degree of normalcy restored.]