Jaskier watched as he sorted through the bag when, all of a sudden, this became a real lesson. He didn't know why he hadn't expected Geralt to teach him, the Witcher had just said that was the plan, but it was...unexpected. Jaskier's exhaustion is shoved firmly aside, all at once, and his blue eyes rivet to the movements of the items in the bag.
He has always been a dandy and a layabout, given to pursuits of pleasure just as keenly as the mind, but he hadn't earned a doctorate by faffing about. Geralt had never seen him working at Oxenfurt, but he did know how to pay attention and learn.
"Swallow has drowner brain in it?" Jaskier asked as Geralt explained. Jaskier been snapped at once or twice, over the years, and Geralt had mentioned that the potions he carried would kill a normal man (the knowledge that too many would kill him was new to this event), and...yes...that was starting to make a horrifying sort of sense.
He gamely resisted asking any more questions as Geralt went on, but he was nearly vibrating with the need to by the time he pulled out the Arnica. Jaskier sorted through the flowers in hand--tried to memorize the shapes of them. The Comfrey Jaskier knew, he'd gathered what felt like basket-fulls over the last few days, but the other two? The midwife hadn't mentioned those.
"Why not add willow bark? They had me peeling a dozen trees," Jaskier asked. "And no wormwood? The stuff is awful to deal with but I thought it was crucial. They told me it was--"
He hadn't the slightest doubt that Geralt's formulation was better. It was probably not poisonous to the touch, not if he was telling Jaskier how to make it, but everything he'd learned in the last few days was a bit at odds with this. Fuck, had they taught him some trade school ditties when he wanted musical theory? His face goes a bit annoyed at the thought, but he doesn't stop turning over the ingredients in hand.
no subject
He has always been a dandy and a layabout, given to pursuits of pleasure just as keenly as the mind, but he hadn't earned a doctorate by faffing about. Geralt had never seen him working at Oxenfurt, but he did know how to pay attention and learn.
"Swallow has drowner brain in it?" Jaskier asked as Geralt explained. Jaskier been snapped at once or twice, over the years, and Geralt had mentioned that the potions he carried would kill a normal man (the knowledge that too many would kill him was new to this event), and...yes...that was starting to make a horrifying sort of sense.
He gamely resisted asking any more questions as Geralt went on, but he was nearly vibrating with the need to by the time he pulled out the Arnica. Jaskier sorted through the flowers in hand--tried to memorize the shapes of them. The Comfrey Jaskier knew, he'd gathered what felt like basket-fulls over the last few days, but the other two? The midwife hadn't mentioned those.
"Why not add willow bark? They had me peeling a dozen trees," Jaskier asked. "And no wormwood? The stuff is awful to deal with but I thought it was crucial. They told me it was--"
He hadn't the slightest doubt that Geralt's formulation was better. It was probably not poisonous to the touch, not if he was telling Jaskier how to make it, but everything he'd learned in the last few days was a bit at odds with this. Fuck, had they taught him some trade school ditties when he wanted musical theory? His face goes a bit annoyed at the thought, but he doesn't stop turning over the ingredients in hand.