The heavy smell of disappointment invades the room as soon as Geralt tosses the coin back to Jaskier, who barely manages to catch it before it hits the floor. His reflexes usually aren't that bad, but he's feeling a bit shaken by Geralt's response.
He's told the witcher (at least twice by now) that he doesn't expect poetry and flowers from him, and he meant it. But they've also agreed Geralt would be nicer from now own, express himself better, just try a little more when it comes to understanding feelings and... well. Jaskier thought keepsakes were a safe topic to approach, considering the gifts he's found in this room the day they arrived.
Speaking of... yeah, that can a good place to start. Jaskier points at the book on the shelf as he speaks.
"And that's a ribbon. I gave it to you to use on your hair." A pause, a little frown appearing as his mind goes down memory road. "Or for a wound. I'm not sure which specific one it is." He sighs as he flips the coin, sending it up in the air before it lands on his hand again. "I misunderstood whom the coin was for that day. I get it. I promise I do," he adds with frustration in his voice. He doesn't like being wrong about something he considers so important, but there's no way around it this time. "But is it truly too late to still give it meaning now?"
As a calloused thumb rubs the coin in his palm, Jaskier hums the chorus of Toss a Coin, wondering if Geralt really hasn't made the connection yet - not only to the song, but also to the fact it's important because of the memory behind it.
Respect doesn't make history, he had told Geralt that day. And he still stands by it. Part of him, however... part of him wants at least part of the song to be true, to carry the memory of their meeting in its lyrics, for everyone to celebrate the crossing of their paths every time they sing it, every time it gets stuck in their heads the same way Jaskier stuck to Geralt's side: determined, perhaps a little annoying, but managing to stick because it still puts a smile on your face.
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He's told the witcher (at least twice by now) that he doesn't expect poetry and flowers from him, and he meant it. But they've also agreed Geralt would be nicer from now own, express himself better, just try a little more when it comes to understanding feelings and... well. Jaskier thought keepsakes were a safe topic to approach, considering the gifts he's found in this room the day they arrived.
Speaking of... yeah, that can a good place to start. Jaskier points at the book on the shelf as he speaks.
"And that's a ribbon. I gave it to you to use on your hair." A pause, a little frown appearing as his mind goes down memory road. "Or for a wound. I'm not sure which specific one it is." He sighs as he flips the coin, sending it up in the air before it lands on his hand again. "I misunderstood whom the coin was for that day. I get it. I promise I do," he adds with frustration in his voice. He doesn't like being wrong about something he considers so important, but there's no way around it this time. "But is it truly too late to still give it meaning now?"
As a calloused thumb rubs the coin in his palm, Jaskier hums the chorus of Toss a Coin, wondering if Geralt really hasn't made the connection yet - not only to the song, but also to the fact it's important because of the memory behind it.
Respect doesn't make history, he had told Geralt that day. And he still stands by it. Part of him, however... part of him wants at least part of the song to be true, to carry the memory of their meeting in its lyrics, for everyone to celebrate the crossing of their paths every time they sing it, every time it gets stuck in their heads the same way Jaskier stuck to Geralt's side: determined, perhaps a little annoying, but managing to stick because it still puts a smile on your face.