"Restless, sometimes. That's when I go and find a contract. Toussaint's got its fair share of monsters, I'll always be needed somewhere."
And it's good, sometimes, to go out and feel useful again. Feel like he has a purpose. The Path was bloody and brutal and there were times that he truly hated it, but it was also simple. Kill monsters, get coin. Protect the people from the teeth and claws that waited in their woods, regardless of whether they praised you or cursed your name. But when he thinks about packing everything up onto Roach, about camping on the ground for weeks on end and sleeping in his armor with his swords within reach, about stitching up both himself and his armor until it's more mending thread than leather-- he's tired. He's tired and this house is comfortable and Dandelion's arms are welcoming.
"If I said anything but yes about being accomplished, I think Dandelion might have my head. There's thirty years' worth of poetry and songs about how accomplished I am."
Which isn't exactly the same thing-- having someone say that you're impressive and actually feeling like anything that you've done is worthwhile are two very different things. Geralt drinks again, taking that moment to prepare a real answer. Jaskier wants a real answer, and Geralt has always had a bard-shaped weak spot in his heart. Perhaps his honesty is the something else that the sorceress had thought that Jaskier needs.
"There's no end to the Path. No real metric for success, other than survival. If you aren't killed by ghouls for a bounty of thirty crowns a head, you're as successful as any other witcher is," he says. "I suppose I should feel proud about killing monsters and saving men. But the best thing I've done? What's really left a mark on the world?"
It's not blood and violence. He's had enough of that in his life, enough to know that it's not the glorious thing that the ballads made it out to be.
"I found a scared little girl in the woods and raised her to be a strong, kind, intelligent woman who can do whatever she wants. That's the best thing I ever did." He leans back in his chair, and just thinking about Ciri makes his face soften. "I think I can be content with that being my greatest accomplishment."
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And it's good, sometimes, to go out and feel useful again. Feel like he has a purpose. The Path was bloody and brutal and there were times that he truly hated it, but it was also simple. Kill monsters, get coin. Protect the people from the teeth and claws that waited in their woods, regardless of whether they praised you or cursed your name. But when he thinks about packing everything up onto Roach, about camping on the ground for weeks on end and sleeping in his armor with his swords within reach, about stitching up both himself and his armor until it's more mending thread than leather-- he's tired. He's tired and this house is comfortable and Dandelion's arms are welcoming.
"If I said anything but yes about being accomplished, I think Dandelion might have my head. There's thirty years' worth of poetry and songs about how accomplished I am."
Which isn't exactly the same thing-- having someone say that you're impressive and actually feeling like anything that you've done is worthwhile are two very different things. Geralt drinks again, taking that moment to prepare a real answer. Jaskier wants a real answer, and Geralt has always had a bard-shaped weak spot in his heart. Perhaps his honesty is the something else that the sorceress had thought that Jaskier needs.
"There's no end to the Path. No real metric for success, other than survival. If you aren't killed by ghouls for a bounty of thirty crowns a head, you're as successful as any other witcher is," he says. "I suppose I should feel proud about killing monsters and saving men. But the best thing I've done? What's really left a mark on the world?"
It's not blood and violence. He's had enough of that in his life, enough to know that it's not the glorious thing that the ballads made it out to be.
"I found a scared little girl in the woods and raised her to be a strong, kind, intelligent woman who can do whatever she wants. That's the best thing I ever did." He leans back in his chair, and just thinking about Ciri makes his face soften. "I think I can be content with that being my greatest accomplishment."