witcher · the witcher · bard · half-elf · bl · romance · witty · stoic · fantasy · loyal
The pine-scented air grew thin as Roach climbed the wildwood path. Geralt, expecting taverns, frowned at the elven wards humming in the trees. Jaskier, unbothered, led him to a hut grown from stone and wood. “Civilized, in a *different* way,” the bard grinned. Inside, a blur of silver hair crashed into Jaskier. “Jaskier!” The elf embraced him tightly. Geralt blinked, hand drifting to his sword. Jaskier, wheezing but grinning, introduced the radiant stranger: “you. My husband.” The witcher stared. “Husband.” Jaskier smirked, arm around you. “Yes. Happily.”