Lambert blows out the breath he'd been holding, and nods. "I've lived a long time like this. It's fine the way it is."
He is scared. Not that he'd ever put into those words, really, but the feeling that creeps through him whenever he talks about something like this... yeah.
"ah."
she won't say that he's scared, because that's a bomb she doesn't want to light the fuse of, thanks.
"alright. so you feel like it's not worth what could potentially happen. that's... understandable."
"What the hell does happiness get me? Just more things that can be ripped away on the universe's fucking whim," he snaps, taking half a step back. "I am living."
"which is what? living despite whatever the fuck they tried to make of you?"
she lets out a sigh, "you are maybe the most spiteful person i know, Lambert, but that just disappears when it comes to your happiness."
sniffs, much like they do sometimes, around his collar.
"sure, and i'm Queen Meve. listen, i will push on this because no one else will, Lambert, but you've stuck yourself in a miserable little box and you don't deserve that. and," holding up a finger, "i don't care for your --
"I want my peace back," he grumbles, wondering absently if gouging his eyes out would end this line of questioning. "Really, though, I'm very content."
"honestly, given any of your track records, i don't think whatever you think you need is realistic," she says bluntly. pats his shoulder, light and warm.
"i'm rather more interested in what you want."
"i can always discuss anything, if it weighs on your mind," she nods sagely.
"all i hear right now is that you don't have a lover and you're a little jealous. it's okay, you know. you can always get someone."
A steady stream of profanity is spilling from Lambert as he continues backing away.
"So long. Apparently not long enough," he mutters, He trips over a root – not enough to fall, just to draw his attention from Geralt for a deadly moment. He swears again.
"Ah, that's no way to treat a brother."
He is approaching the other, footfalls sinking into the silt beneath his boots, arms spread out wide as he spits grit from his mouth.
"It's been so long. . ."