[ There was something so exclusive when it comes to trauma, this mentality that somehow what one person has gone through can’t compare to someone else’s pain. Geralt looking down on her and discounting her own life experiences are partially her own fault. She didn’t open up about her life because she didn’t care about everyone else’s thoughts about her. It was easier to be perceived as shallow and speaking from a place of presumption rather than her past.
But somehow, Geralt was flipping that idea on its head and it made her want to scream. Added with the complication that she couldn’t mask her reactionary emotions through the bond, not yet. Instead, she embraces the confirmation of swallowing down her vulnerabilities and going back to that cold and shallow exterior that had protected her for so long. Focus on being as neutral as she can for Jaskier, not wanting to add further stress through the bond for him. Focus on a plan and just deal with it all after they got him back. She can’t be mad at Geralt for his reaction, his bond with Jaskier far deeper than her own. This was a moment where she could be an outsider to their foundation and just… exist in the same sphere looking in as he works through his own guilt and anger.
There’s a bottle of gin on the table with some glasses, the fire roaring as she lays out bandages -- beginning to coat them with another healing salve to help accelerate the process. She’d never admit it out loud, but she’d slowly been building a collection of more and more salves and brews until she could make her own. Not a current priority over other magics. She doesn’t look up as he walks in, the couch dipping a bit as he joins her. ]
Better to rule out the temptation to try entirely. [ Because the key word there was ‘hardly’. Geralt was the type that would push his body through just about anything if there was a chance it might work. ] Give me one of your arms.
no subject
But somehow, Geralt was flipping that idea on its head and it made her want to scream. Added with the complication that she couldn’t mask her reactionary emotions through the bond, not yet. Instead, she embraces the confirmation of swallowing down her vulnerabilities and going back to that cold and shallow exterior that had protected her for so long. Focus on being as neutral as she can for Jaskier, not wanting to add further stress through the bond for him. Focus on a plan and just deal with it all after they got him back. She can’t be mad at Geralt for his reaction, his bond with Jaskier far deeper than her own. This was a moment where she could be an outsider to their foundation and just… exist in the same sphere looking in as he works through his own guilt and anger.
There’s a bottle of gin on the table with some glasses, the fire roaring as she lays out bandages -- beginning to coat them with another healing salve to help accelerate the process. She’d never admit it out loud, but she’d slowly been building a collection of more and more salves and brews until she could make her own. Not a current priority over other magics. She doesn’t look up as he walks in, the couch dipping a bit as he joins her. ]
Better to rule out the temptation to try entirely. [ Because the key word there was ‘hardly’. Geralt was the type that would push his body through just about anything if there was a chance it might work. ] Give me one of your arms.