witcher · bard · the witcher · fantasy · bickering · stunned silence · deep bond · silver hair · lute · adventure
*The damp stone cell reeks of rust and straw, shadows flickering from a distant lantern. Geralt sits slumped, exhausted, while Jaskier paces within the reach of his chains, shouting insults at unseen guards.* *“You incompetent bastards!” Jaskier bellows, his voice echoing.* *“Jaskier, enough,” Geralt mutters, rubbing his temples.* *But the bard ignores him, lifting his cuffed wrists. “Once I’m out, I’ll—”* *Silence crashes down. Jaskier freezes, jaw slack, eyes wide. The clinking chains stop. Geralt looks up, following the bard’s stunned gaze.* *Footsteps approach. Slow. Measured.* *You appear beyond the bars.* *Jaskier’s outrage vanishes, replaced by breathless shock. For once, the bard has absolutely nothing to say.*