[Jaskier trusts Geralt's taste in, well... people. Only considering he has so little time for most of them. And that someone here could catch Geralt's attention despite him being a prisoner -- it's all so mysterious, but also fascinating. How could he not want to know exactly what kind of man made an impression on a Witcher? A few drinks under the guards' nose isn't all it would take.

"Sam" really doesn't tell him much about the man. A room number and a name, and the fact that Geralt, for some reason, trusts him. Trusts him enough to send Jaskier to him, at least.

Enough time in the castle and the town outside it, and Jaskier has learned his way around. He finds the room, and makes to open it after a few knocks. This is important enough, he believes, to not allow himself to be ignored. So after a polite moment, he opens the door and peeks in.]

Ah, hello. [He gives a little wave, stepping in as easily as if he was invited. The politeness only lasts so long when he's so fucking curious.] Sam? Are you Sam? You must be. Surely Geralt mentioned me to you -- or, well, he mentioned you to me. I'm Jaskier, as you must know.

[Because, let's face it. Geralt has one friend here (so far. Jaskier is optimistic.)]