[I know is about as good as he'll get right now. Jaskier gives him a smile, topping off his wine (of course his first glass has already been drained), squeezing Geralt's hand. He'll do it for Geralt, but for himself, too. Yennefer has become... something strange, if only because of how they were once. A friend, he supposes. In the end.
Jaskier likes to think this is not where it ends. Not because of Destiny, or the Wish -- if you ask him, he's never really believed in it, even if he knows better than the others the power behind a djinn -- but because of who Yennefer and Geralt are.
Both stubborn. Both idiots.
But...]
My little pet? [Jaskier repeats with a laugh, his eyes glowing. A bed! So that was what he was working on. And why Geralt wouldn't explain what it was.] I would say Mog is ours now, if you're building him beds. [He grins.] He'll love it. Right next to the sunlight. Thank you, Geralt.
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Jaskier likes to think this is not where it ends. Not because of Destiny, or the Wish -- if you ask him, he's never really believed in it, even if he knows better than the others the power behind a djinn -- but because of who Yennefer and Geralt are.
Both stubborn. Both idiots.
But...]
My little pet? [Jaskier repeats with a laugh, his eyes glowing. A bed! So that was what he was working on. And why Geralt wouldn't explain what it was.] I would say Mog is ours now, if you're building him beds. [He grins.] He'll love it. Right next to the sunlight. Thank you, Geralt.