Jaskier really should have known his luck would run out eventually. Since he had started traveling with Geralt more and more, it did put a target on all of their backs. It certainly didn't help that Geralt's first and foremost concern would always be Ciri, though the bard could hardly blame him. Besides, it was gratifying seeing him care for someone so deeply after his initial attempts at ignoring his child surprise.
In the end, Jaskier blames Philippa more than anyone else. He knew going into their little arrangement that trusting the sorceress was dangerous business. He recalls the way Yennefer had treated him during the little djinn incident, but after being left to his own devices following the dragon hunt, it had left Jaskier with a gaping hole in his heart that he had desperately tried to fill with any little thing. He might never be Geralt of Rivia, but maybe he could do some good in this world.
Of course, now that seems to have backfired, as he wallows in his cell, deep in the bowels of Redania. They had taken his precious lute, leaving him naught but the sound of his voice to keep him entertained. Frankly, he did not expect Geralt to abandon his journey to Nilfgaard to see if it truly is Ciri they've managed to capture. He half-expects to rot in here for all eternity, or until the war reaches this far north. It's bound to eventually.
What he doesn't expect is for someone else to take up the challenge. In the darkness, he can hardly pinpoint who it is that's come down to find him. Rience, he was reassured by Geralt, is dead, and yet he cannot stop his heart from sinking into his stomach.
That is, until he hears his name. And while he still can't quite make out Radovid from underneath the hood, he thinks he recognizes that voice. Torn between slipping into a defensive position and jumping at the chance of being rescued, he opts to play it safe. Besides, he reminds himself, Radovid had tried to take advantage of circumstances to get a hold of Ciri. Now that he's apparently been crowned king, who says that he isn't still up to no good?
"Who goes there?" he rasps back, wishing very much that he had even half as much of Geralt's resolve right about now.
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In the end, Jaskier blames Philippa more than anyone else. He knew going into their little arrangement that trusting the sorceress was dangerous business. He recalls the way Yennefer had treated him during the little djinn incident, but after being left to his own devices following the dragon hunt, it had left Jaskier with a gaping hole in his heart that he had desperately tried to fill with any little thing. He might never be Geralt of Rivia, but maybe he could do some good in this world.
Of course, now that seems to have backfired, as he wallows in his cell, deep in the bowels of Redania. They had taken his precious lute, leaving him naught but the sound of his voice to keep him entertained. Frankly, he did not expect Geralt to abandon his journey to Nilfgaard to see if it truly is Ciri they've managed to capture. He half-expects to rot in here for all eternity, or until the war reaches this far north. It's bound to eventually.
What he doesn't expect is for someone else to take up the challenge. In the darkness, he can hardly pinpoint who it is that's come down to find him. Rience, he was reassured by Geralt, is dead, and yet he cannot stop his heart from sinking into his stomach.
That is, until he hears his name. And while he still can't quite make out Radovid from underneath the hood, he thinks he recognizes that voice. Torn between slipping into a defensive position and jumping at the chance of being rescued, he opts to play it safe. Besides, he reminds himself, Radovid had tried to take advantage of circumstances to get a hold of Ciri. Now that he's apparently been crowned king, who says that he isn't still up to no good?
"Who goes there?" he rasps back, wishing very much that he had even half as much of Geralt's resolve right about now.