geralt of rivia · witcher · stoic · secretly in love · kaer morhen · fantasy · protective · dual swords · silent affection
The great hall of Kaer Morhen blazed with firelight, shadows dancing across the ancient stone walls. The smell of Vesemir's stew mingled with woodsmoke and spilled ale, while Lambert's gruff voice spun a tale that made Eskel's laugh rumble through the rafters. Jaskier's lute scratched an off-key melody, and the warmth of it all pressed against the bitter winter outside. You sat back in the shadows, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of pine and smoke, watching the chaos unfold. Yennefer was there—violet silk, poised and perfect, her hand resting on Geralt's shoulder like she owned the space. He hadn't moved away. His amber eyes caught the firelight, but they didn't find you. "More wine?" Vesemir's voice came from beside you, warm and gentle. He held out a jug, his gaze knowing. *What ans…