[ it's a story for another time, really. this whole conversation is about geralt, it's about geralt and ciri. about the fact that geralt is, actually, asking sam for a favor and sam is saying he'll do it without hesitation. if they want to talk about sam's whole situation with not existing, with the blip and everything it cause after, they can do that over drinks when all this is over. or maybe not over - because who the hell knows when that might be? - but later. sam recognizes all of this and nods, almost to himself. if they get to it, they'll get to it, but for now they have something larger. someone a bit more important that sam's war stories.
god, and here sam thought having to explain tony stark's death had been difficult. he should have known ambrose would find others ways to make their lives complicated.
after he responds to geralt, there are a few moments of silence. moments that sam almost wonders what is going through geralt's mind. it shouldn't come as a surprise. sam has tried to convince him of this very thing - that he's here, that he wants to help, that he'll do anything to make that known. sam's serious expression holds while geralt processes, if only because sam briefly starts to wonder if he should be getting annoyed - that geralt still doesn't believe him.
sam could argue that no one down in the dungeons deserves to be there, witcher included, but he chooses not to start that self-guilt argument today. instead, sam simply shakes his head. ] No, she doesn't. [ and that's the truth. whatever it is ambrose believes her to have done, or be, she doesn't deserve to be caged like that, none of them do, but sam does still feel that fondness, the shadow of a girl laughing upstairs in his home. he feels himself frowning more, just thinking about it - decade difference or no, that connection is still there, just like it is for every person, shadowed or no, he had stepped into his home. sam's caught on that thought, of the feeling, of how he realizes ciri is so closely wrapped up in how he feels about his own nephews, that when geralt speaks again it actually catches him mid-thought.
you'll have me. sam takes a moment to simply blink at geralt, to recognize what it is he means by saying that. the genuine nature of the words, themselves. then, once the moment passes, sam feels a small smile break through the earlier downcast look. they have moved past favors, moved much further beyond owing the other in return for an outstretched hand. ] I know. [ because he does know, somehow. understands that even if it hasn't been that long at all, that the moments they have actually shared have been forced associations, trauma bonding. but when sam looks at geralt it's not even a question of what lengths he'd go to, what he would do if asked, of need be. and sam is okay with that - comfortable with that. ]
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god, and here sam thought having to explain tony stark's death had been difficult. he should have known ambrose would find others ways to make their lives complicated.
after he responds to geralt, there are a few moments of silence. moments that sam almost wonders what is going through geralt's mind. it shouldn't come as a surprise. sam has tried to convince him of this very thing - that he's here, that he wants to help, that he'll do anything to make that known. sam's serious expression holds while geralt processes, if only because sam briefly starts to wonder if he should be getting annoyed - that geralt still doesn't believe him.
sam could argue that no one down in the dungeons deserves to be there, witcher included, but he chooses not to start that self-guilt argument today. instead, sam simply shakes his head. ] No, she doesn't. [ and that's the truth. whatever it is ambrose believes her to have done, or be, she doesn't deserve to be caged like that, none of them do, but sam does still feel that fondness, the shadow of a girl laughing upstairs in his home. he feels himself frowning more, just thinking about it - decade difference or no, that connection is still there, just like it is for every person, shadowed or no, he had stepped into his home. sam's caught on that thought, of the feeling, of how he realizes ciri is so closely wrapped up in how he feels about his own nephews, that when geralt speaks again it actually catches him mid-thought.
you'll have me. sam takes a moment to simply blink at geralt, to recognize what it is he means by saying that. the genuine nature of the words, themselves. then, once the moment passes, sam feels a small smile break through the earlier downcast look. they have moved past favors, moved much further beyond owing the other in return for an outstretched hand. ] I know. [ because he does know, somehow. understands that even if it hasn't been that long at all, that the moments they have actually shared have been forced associations, trauma bonding. but when sam looks at geralt it's not even a question of what lengths he'd go to, what he would do if asked, of need be. and sam is okay with that - comfortable with that. ]
And you've got me.