Jaskier does not stop his sigh. Of course there are.
He is long grown weary of everyone he knows doing their hardest to impress upon him the fact they are moralless, or without light, or somesuch similar belief. He knows that is not what Nadine is doing, and that she has specifically hidden this from him for some time. But the more it happens to him, the more it is... a little exhausting.
He knows the depths of depravity. Yet he does also know that his belief in those he loves is well-founded. No matter what history there is.
After, he lets himself be silent. He has had such similar circumstances before, as Hector laid out the systematic way he decided to release his parents from their world, and how he executed it. He, too, was a child. Jaskier does not see how that absolves him of the decision. And twenty years? Hardly a child.
He does not argue, though. He sits and is still and quiet. He can predict where this is going. And he will not feel remorse for such a repugnant --
His breath stills. For a moment, it is all he can do but cover his face and remember he needs to breathe. His heard does not so much harden as freeze, his limbs trembling.
In the end, there is only one sentiment Jaskier has. His voice is dead cold as he speaks it. "I hope he suffered as much as one is capable of suffering."
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He is long grown weary of everyone he knows doing their hardest to impress upon him the fact they are moralless, or without light, or somesuch similar belief. He knows that is not what Nadine is doing, and that she has specifically hidden this from him for some time. But the more it happens to him, the more it is... a little exhausting.
He knows the depths of depravity. Yet he does also know that his belief in those he loves is well-founded. No matter what history there is.
After, he lets himself be silent. He has had such similar circumstances before, as Hector laid out the systematic way he decided to release his parents from their world, and how he executed it. He, too, was a child. Jaskier does not see how that absolves him of the decision. And twenty years? Hardly a child.
He does not argue, though. He sits and is still and quiet. He can predict where this is going. And he will not feel remorse for such a repugnant --
His breath stills. For a moment, it is all he can do but cover his face and remember he needs to breathe. His heard does not so much harden as freeze, his limbs trembling.
In the end, there is only one sentiment Jaskier has. His voice is dead cold as he speaks it. "I hope he suffered as much as one is capable of suffering."