[It slips out as easily as Jaskier's prodding always does, but after it leaves his lips, it feels different. It makes him go quiet. Not that he thinks that. No, nothing like that. It's --
It's hard not to feel like a useless bit of dough when one is a bit of useless dough. Such morbid thoughts are quite new to him. And yet he has woken every night with nightmares, more than aware that he has jolted those fears down through the Bond. It's the first time he regrets any part of it. That others would feel what he feels so intimately.
On top of suspecting they had felt what he'd felt in the Evergreen Circle's care.
They go in silence, and it's. Fine. Jaskier's hands flit from the already worn leather of the saddle to the fur of the horse's back, to Geralt's hip when he thinks he may lose balance.
Even a simple forest is nearly overwhelming. Sometimes he only looks down so he doesn't have to see the dark between the trees. The flash of eyes that could be there. He knows very well nothing is there. And if it were, Geralt would hear it. And he also has magic. To protect himself.
But --
By the time he looks up, the lake is simply there. As instant as one of Yennefer's portals.] Ah. Your usual haunt. [He slid off Roach carefully. A lake, at least, was about as far as anything could be to that manor.] And we're blessed with a lovely day on top of it.
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[It slips out as easily as Jaskier's prodding always does, but after it leaves his lips, it feels different. It makes him go quiet. Not that he thinks that. No, nothing like that. It's --
It's hard not to feel like a useless bit of dough when one is a bit of useless dough. Such morbid thoughts are quite new to him. And yet he has woken every night with nightmares, more than aware that he has jolted those fears down through the Bond. It's the first time he regrets any part of it. That others would feel what he feels so intimately.
On top of suspecting they had felt what he'd felt in the Evergreen Circle's care.
They go in silence, and it's. Fine. Jaskier's hands flit from the already worn leather of the saddle to the fur of the horse's back, to Geralt's hip when he thinks he may lose balance.
Even a simple forest is nearly overwhelming. Sometimes he only looks down so he doesn't have to see the dark between the trees. The flash of eyes that could be there. He knows very well nothing is there. And if it were, Geralt would hear it. And he also has magic. To protect himself.
But --
By the time he looks up, the lake is simply there. As instant as one of Yennefer's portals.] Ah. Your usual haunt. [He slid off Roach carefully. A lake, at least, was about as far as anything could be to that manor.] And we're blessed with a lovely day on top of it.