[His brows rise. For fuck's sake. She's doing that Geralt thing. The Geralt thing that specifically led to Jaskier being left on a mountain in boots with worn soles. At least she isn't blaming him for everything, but he can't say this change is really better.
He sits there and lets her explode. Lets her all get it out, only watching her. The flash in her green eyes, the way her body coils. Like with Geralt, he takes it. Opens his heart and takes it in, even if it's not fair this time, either.
It isn't fair she thinks this way.
And when she's done, he does speak.]
I'm sure it's important. But all of that other stuff, frankly? Is horseshit. We all share burdens simply by knowing one another. I mean it on a metaphysical level as commentary on the nature of humanity, by the way. And you're right selfish, thinking those burdens I mentioned are yours. I was blaming Thorne, thank you, for being cunts about our dearly beloved Witcher. Or the Singularity, or whatever. What I mean to say is --
[Well, he's sort of said it already, actually. He gets up, moving behind her, looping his arms around her shoulders. He has a sort of guess on where this might go.]
If you leave off on some fool's errand because you tricked yourself into believing we're better off without you, I'll be very cross. I may even have some scathing, choice words for you about it. I love you, Ciri. And I would love your burdens, too.
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He sits there and lets her explode. Lets her all get it out, only watching her. The flash in her green eyes, the way her body coils. Like with Geralt, he takes it. Opens his heart and takes it in, even if it's not fair this time, either.
It isn't fair she thinks this way.
And when she's done, he does speak.]
I'm sure it's important. But all of that other stuff, frankly? Is horseshit. We all share burdens simply by knowing one another. I mean it on a metaphysical level as commentary on the nature of humanity, by the way. And you're right selfish, thinking those burdens I mentioned are yours. I was blaming Thorne, thank you, for being cunts about our dearly beloved Witcher. Or the Singularity, or whatever. What I mean to say is --
[Well, he's sort of said it already, actually. He gets up, moving behind her, looping his arms around her shoulders. He has a sort of guess on where this might go.]
If you leave off on some fool's errand because you tricked yourself into believing we're better off without you, I'll be very cross. I may even have some scathing, choice words for you about it. I love you, Ciri. And I would love your burdens, too.