Not a question, and it isn't scolding either. Just stating the fact. Jaskier hadn't been sure how Geralt would react to him working in Cintra, considering how badly he had wanted to stay away from the place, but it seems he doesn't mind. Good, that's what supportive friends do. After eating another piece of bread and cheese, Jaskier finally takes a sip of his cider and oh, it does wonders to his weary body. The alcohol helps his muscles relax, makes his stomach warm and puts his mind at ease. Although the last point is more Geralt himself than the drink.
"Queen Calanthe said that if she had to hire a bard for celebrations, then she wanted the sassy one." He explains with pride in his voice. "I never hesitated to mouth off the nobles, and I think she found entertainment in that. The pay was good as well."
The edge of the bed? Damn. Well, he'll have to work with that. Jaskier puts down his mug on the tray, then drags it and the pillow with him as he crawls until he can rest right next to Geralt. This close and not distracted by emotions anymore, he can tell the man is smelling of onions again, because not even with a princess at his side he'll take care of himself.
Mental note: bathe him with oils soon.
And isn't that an amusing thought? Tonight he's the one being taken care of, yet he's already falling so easily back into his old nurse-for-the-witcher role. Geralt truly has a tight leash on his heart, and that should be a scary thought, but honestly? Jaskier likes to think this is a sign that he's needed, and basks in it. Starting right now, with the fact Geralt hasn't picked any food yet. Jaskier pushes some bread and cheese into the man's fingers before picking the pottage for himself, and he sips it idly as he lets his body slack against his friend's side. Sensing those hard muscles against him make the whole thing more real (it's happening, we're together again) and adds a layer to that feeling of safety Geralt always wraps him with (nobody is going to get me tonight).
"Poor girl. So young and already lost it all, already carrying a power greater than she is. I'm pleased to hear you've taken her under your wing, my friend, no place is safer." A pause to yawn. With food and alcohol in his belly, he's getting drowsy. "Where is she now anyway?"
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"Queen Calanthe said that if she had to hire a bard for celebrations, then she wanted the sassy one." He explains with pride in his voice. "I never hesitated to mouth off the nobles, and I think she found entertainment in that. The pay was good as well."
The edge of the bed? Damn. Well, he'll have to work with that. Jaskier puts down his mug on the tray, then drags it and the pillow with him as he crawls until he can rest right next to Geralt. This close and not distracted by emotions anymore, he can tell the man is smelling of onions again, because not even with a princess at his side he'll take care of himself.
Mental note: bathe him with oils soon.
And isn't that an amusing thought? Tonight he's the one being taken care of, yet he's already falling so easily back into his old nurse-for-the-witcher role. Geralt truly has a tight leash on his heart, and that should be a scary thought, but honestly? Jaskier likes to think this is a sign that he's needed, and basks in it. Starting right now, with the fact Geralt hasn't picked any food yet. Jaskier pushes some bread and cheese into the man's fingers before picking the pottage for himself, and he sips it idly as he lets his body slack against his friend's side. Sensing those hard muscles against him make the whole thing more real (it's happening, we're together again) and adds a layer to that feeling of safety Geralt always wraps him with (nobody is going to get me tonight).
"Poor girl. So young and already lost it all, already carrying a power greater than she is. I'm pleased to hear you've taken her under your wing, my friend, no place is safer." A pause to yawn. With food and alcohol in his belly, he's getting drowsy. "Where is she now anyway?"