#soft geralt

“What are you writing?” Jaskier asked once. “Another one of your boring bestiaries?”

“Boring bestiaries save lives.” Geralt looked down, putting down the quill. “And no, it’s not a bestiary.”

“What is it then?”

Jaskier remembered all Geralt’s notebooks: the green ones titled Herbs, the brown ones with Monsters and Locations written across the first page. He didn’t recognize the red one. A secret book, then. It only made him more curious.

“Nothing,” Geralt answers, putting the book down to join Jaskier in the nest of tangled sheets. “Just…thoughts.”

“Thoughts about me?” Jaskier asked cheekily. “Love thoughts?”

“Hmm.”

At the time, Jaskier teased but did not pry. Geralt rarely gets to keep things for himself, and Jaskier delighted in the fact that Geralt could find comfort in keeping a journal.

Now, as the notebook lays open on the ground, Jaskier finds his name all over it. He picks it up and flips to the first page, and finds the title. It’s just one word, one name.

Jaskier.

A book written in his name. A book he never gets to read.

When he flips another page, the entries begin with lists of food. Fruits, pastries and wines, followed by stores to buy the best of them in Ard Carraigh. The combination rings a bell, reminding him of a surprise picnic a while ago. He marveled at how Geralt could gather such a feast without him knowing, and only got an absent hum as reply.

The next page records another date of theirs, detailing Geralt’s careful preparations even though the words are scribbled and crossed out at times.

There are other things. Thoughts.

Thoughts of love, of regret and hope, pride and fear. These are thoughts of Jaskier and their future.

He read slowly as if holding Geralt’s heart between his hands, skipping some passages when the emotions grow too tender, making him ache at the self-doubt that bleeds through these pages.

He has no reason to stay. Jaskier reads on, his heart breaking. And yet he does. I don’t know how to deserve him. I don’t know if I ever will.

The notebook isn’t completed yet, and the last entry consists of the names of many towns and cities. It’s the planning of their next journey, Jaskier realizes, following the route they will travel and diverting for all the local festivals. A coastal village in Cidaris is underscored twice. Jaskier vaguely remembers mentioning its name years ago on a hot sunny afternoon. He went on about how nice the water was there, and how he dreamed of going back. It’s the same place he thought about when asking Geralt to run away with him during that dragon hunt.

Geralt wants to take him there now, after all these years.

Jaskier closes the book with a shuddering breath and puts it back into the pack. Guilt churns in his stomach for having gotten a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have.

When Geralt returns, Jaskier has tidied up the mess. He puts on a smile and hugs his witcher close. Tears prickle his eyes still, and the attempt to hide them fails spectacularly.

“Hey,” Geralt says, confused. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Jaskier’s voice breaks, and leans into the strong hands running up and down his back. “I just…love you.”

Geralt lets out a quiet oh and brings Jaskier flush against him. Even without looking, Jaskier can picture perfectly the slightly panicked frown on Geralt’s face.

“You’re upset.” Geralt murmurs gently. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“It is.” Jaskier sniffs. “You are here.”

That earns him an amused huff. Geralt continues, “you know, I just had this idea. How about we go to the coast? I heard Cidaris is nice in the summer. It’s on our way north, and it could…cheer you up?”

Geralt is so tentative, the nervousness thrumming under a thin layer of nonchalance, and Jaskier nods.

“It’s a nice thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jaskier pulls away to meet Geralt’s gaze, and this time, his smile is genuine. “I’ve wanted to see the coast for a long time.”

The subtle pride at the corners of Geralt’s lips is more beautiful than the sunrise at sea.

Jaskier doesn’t mention the notebook of unsaid things. It’s a book that holds all the soft parts of Geralt’s clumsy heart, and of course it’s something Jaskier will protect.

He’ll protect the quiet love Geralt bestows on him by tucking the book away in the corner of his heart. He’ll let Geralt try, and try, and try.

Her grave was only a few minutes from where he was sitting now, by the coast, covered in lilacs that would bloom in the spring again. She'd been one of the best sorceresses he'd known, but even that hadn't saved her. He'd gone through it over and over again, but in the end, it wouldn't change anything. What's done is done.

His brothers had helped him with the funeral, they'd even brought him here to this cottage, where he had some peace and quiet, some time to himself, because he needed that. Geralt wasn't good with company at the moment. The only person to visit him every now and then, was Jaskier, who checked up on him, brought him some supplies and made sure that he did indeed eat and didn't only tell him that in order to get rid of him. He had Roach for company, and if he needed someone, he'd know where to find them. Until then, his brothers and Vesemir would leave him alone. There was nothing they could do to heal a broken and battered heart, they could only give him the time he needed and be there for him.

Geralt appreciated that they stayed away from him most of the time. He was grieving, he knew it, and it hurt like hell, but he didn't know how long that pain would remain, but right now, it wasn't going anywhere. They'd always talked about living at the coast at one point. Build a little cottage, maybe get a couple sheep or goats – Eskel could certainly get them set up – and just live a peaceful live.

Looking out over the ocean, Geralt took a deep breath, the salty air filling his nose, his lungs. If he closed his eyes hard enough, maybe he could ream himself way from this place, from this life, to a place where she was still there.

“Geralt?” he heard the soft voice before he felt the delicate fingers on his shoulder. For a second, he tensed up, because this couldn't be real. The light touch sent electric waves through his body, made him acutely aware of her presence, but it couldn't be.

“Y/N?” His voice was barely above a whisper as he stood and turned around, only to see her right in front of him. That warm smile on her lips that he'd always loved, her eyes fixed on him, like there was nobody else in this world she'd rather look at then him. “How... what...” he stuttered, raking his eyes over her body, looking for any injuries, but there none. Little cars here and there, just like he had as well, but she wasn't hurt.

“I'm here,” she said, reaching out her hand for him. Geralt hesitated for a moment, but then he touched his fingertips to here, ran them along the back of her hand, felt her warm skin beneath them. It was her. It was y/n – his y/n. He took one big step towards her and wrapped her in his arms, held her close to his chest, afraid that if he'd let her go, she'd vanish into thin air.

“I thought I'd lost you. I... I held your dead body,” he whispered into her neck, breathing in her familiar scent, while his hands ran over her whole body, making sure that she was really here, not some figment of his imagination, that she was breathing.

“I'm here, Geralt,” she repeated her words, her own fingers tangling in his hair, feeling the soft texture against her skin. She'd missed this, missed him, and so she made him look at her before her lips came down on his. It was a messy, a greedy kiss, but they both needed that, needed to feel that the other was really there, that it was not just a hallucination.

Geralt wasted no time in picking her up and carrying her inside. Nobody would find them out here, but he wanted that privacy, wanted to cherish her the way she needed to be cherished, and his bed would be better than the sand beneath them. A bed, he'd slept in alone for what felt like an eternity.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea.” Geralt's lips moved down the side of her neck as soon as he'd laid her down on his bed, his body covering hers, but he didn't put his whole weight on her. Y/N's fingers raked through his hair, down his back and pulled at the tunic he was wearing.

“I missed you, too... but I'm here now. We are here.”

Geralt sat up to rid himself of the tunic, threw it aside, because the only thing that mattered right now was the woman in front of him. He leaned back down, started peppering her skin with kisses. Down her neck, her collarbone, the slope of her breast.

“This has to come off. I need to feel you, need to make sure this is real!” He sounded desperate, but he didn't care. She could know how much he'd missed, how much he loved her.

Y/N pushed him off her own body so that she could get up from the bed again. Her eyes were fixed on him as she undressed, feeling his hot gaze all over her. Without looking, he pulled down his own trousers, freeing his cock from its confinements.

“Come here.” Geralt sat back against the headboard of his bed, reached out his hand for her. When she took it, he pulled her into his lap. After letting go of her hand again, he rubbed his palms along her thighs, took his time as if he was exploring her body all over again. Y/N cupped his face and kissed him again. A slow, passionate kiss that made him feel so alive that he wouldn't even be able to put it into words again.

When his hands reached her hips, he pulled her even closer, his throbbing cock pressing against her heat. Y/N gasped into the kiss, before she ripped her lips free from his.

“I love you so much,” she whispered before she reached between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his dick. Geralt swore under his breath. It had been so long since she'd touched him that he felt like a teenager again who would come undone just from this touch.

Geralt's grip on her hips tightened for a moment, before he returned to stroking his fingertips along her thigh, but this time, he inched further up until he reached her folds, finding her already wet and willing for him.

Now, it was y/n's name to gasp at the touch, but she immediately pressed against his fingers, asking for more. And so he complied, pressed his thumb against the sensitive bud there. Hearing her moan his name spurred him on, and he started rubbing slow circles around it. Meanwhile, two of his fingers rand through her folds, already coated in her slick, so he had no problem sliding them inside her. She stilled for a moment, before a long, drawn-out moan left his lips. Her grip on his cock tightened, making Geralt moan in return.

“I need to feel you as well, Geralt.. now!” she panted and rocked her hips against his fingers, but then she lifted herself up. Geralt kept his gaze on her, as he positioned herself, guided his cock towards her entrance and slowly sank down on his length.

Geralt's head fell against her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her body to hold her close for a moment, to feel her body pressed to his and feel her heart beating in her chest. She was here, she was with him.

For a moment, they simply stayed like this, joined together after such a long time without each other, but they needed their high, needed to feel alive together, so y/n rocked her hips against him against. She placed her hands on his shoulders for leverage, before she started moving up and down. Geralt's hands found their place on her hips, guiding her, supporting her a little bit.

He trailed kisses along her shoulder, down to her collarbone, where he nipped at the skin for a moment, before he continued his path. Without a warning, he pulled her left nipple between his teeth and sucked on it.

“Fuck... Geralt,” she moaned, fingernails digging into his shoulder. Her movement were becoming faster now, drawing a mix between a moan and a growl from his lips.

Geralt wrapped one arm around her middle, held her close when he turned them in one swift motion, so that y/n was now lying beneath him. He looked down at her for a moment, studied her face, after he hadn't seen it for so long. Her fingers combed through his hair again before she cupped his cheek and pulled him back down for another kiss. She only broke that kiss, because his fingers were between their bodies again, gently rubbing over her clit, while he started thrusting into her again, slowly at first, but he quickly picked up his pace.

“Fuck, y/n, I missed you, I missed this... can't let you go again,” he babbled against her neck, grazed his teeth against the soft skin, but soothed it with his tongue right afterwards.

“I'm so close... Fuck Geralt.” A breathless whisper from her lips as she felt her climax approach, felt that knot tighten, that was close to exploding. Her fingernails scratched over his back, as his movements got faster, a little harder, driving her absolutely insane, but when his fingers got faster as well, he pushed her over the edge. Her back arched off the bed, her chest pressed flush against his, as she came, moaning his name once again.

Geralt fucked her through her high until his own movements became more erratic, his hips stuttered, because feeling her walls constrict around his cock, trying to pull him even deeper. He spilled inside her, a string of cursewords flowing from his lips mixed with an I love you, y/n.

For a moment, his whole weight was on her, because he needed to catch his breath, but then he pushed himself up on one arm. Ever so gently, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. YN/'s eyes fluttered open, a content smile on her lips.

“Tell me, you're not going anywhere,” Geralt said quietly, the desperation with which he said this nearly making his voice break.

“I'm not. I'm right here.” Her hand framed his face, before she kissed him again. A long, lingering kiss that he felt to the tips of his toes.

Geralt opened his eyes with a start as a bright flash filled the room and he heard thunder very close by. He needed a moment to adjust to his surroundings to realise, where he was. Blinking a couple of times, he looked around for y/n, but she was nowhere to be found. Sitting up, he rubbed both hands across his face. It was raining outside, lightning cracking though the air and lightening up the surrounding.

Geralt got up and got dressed, before he went looking for her. He'd always loved the rain, had always sat near a window if she wasn't able to go outside.

“Y/N?” he called out in the hopes of a response, but he had a gut feeling that she was nowhere to be found. There was a used cup in the kitchen and the front door was ajar. Maybe, she'd gone outside to enjoy the rain. It wouldn't be the first time.

Geralt didn't waste any time and walked outside looking for her, but she was nowhere around the cottage, so he started walking. His feet seemed to move on their own accord, showing where he needed to go. His eyes always scanned his surroundings in hopes of finding her somewhere, though deep down he knew that he wouldn't be lucky.

He eventually stopped at a spot where he could overlook the ocean again. The rain had died down by now, hut he was completely drenched – not that he even cared about that. His eyes dropped down to what was in front of his feet. They weren't in bloom, but he knew that they were lilacs. Her lilacs. On her grave. Her name, the date of her death carved into a stone that set on top of the grave they'd made for her.

All of it had only been a dream, even though it had felt so real. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell her, feels the touch of her fingertips on his skin. Maybe, it was a memory his body, his mind had conjured up, but she was nowhere to be found anymore. He'd buried her himself, had lost her for good. But at least he'd seen her one last time, even if it was only in his dreams, to tell her that he loved her. Words he hadn't said often enough while she'd still been with him.

The next morning Jaskier spent the whole morning packing clothes for them to wear while Geralt put some snacks together and made sure the house was tidy and ready for the week they would be gone. 

"Did you shower? You should probably shower. Maybe use my soap. It has a little better scent. I laid an outfit for you on the bed. I'll go pack the car once I'm done eating breakfast." Jaskier rambled as he got his breakfast ready.

"Why don't you join me in the shower? Make sure I use that soap." Geralt grinned as he sat down next to Jaskier.

Jaskier blushed, "dear we don't have time for that.". 

Geralt rolled his eyes and leaned over and  kissed him passionately.

"I know it'd relieve some of your stress. Also mine as well.".

"It is a 5 hour drive dear and we need to be there well before dinner so that we can get settled in our room and you can meet my parents properly. We really don't have the time. I promise I'll make it up to you." Jaskier gave Geralt one final kiss before they finished eating. 

After they finished eating they both stood up and Geralt wrapped Jaskier in his arms and kissed him. Jaskier broke free of the kiss and gave Geralt a playful shove towards the bedroom. As Geralt walked into the room he saw the outfit Jaskier laid out for him. It was a light blue tunic with a white undershirt. He left him with the option of tan pants or black pants. Geralt quickly undressed and showered, making sure to use any of Jaskiers soaps and shampoos to help make sure he didn't smell bad. After the shower Geralt opted for the black pants to make sure they matched his black leather jacket he planned to wear. 

"I love the pop of color! You should wear this color more often!" Jaskier exclaimed hugging Geralt, " also you smell amazing. Thank you, love!".

"Anything for you." Geralt kissed Jaskier one more time before they did one final check of the house and made their way out to the car. 

They drove in silence for over an hour. Geralt could tell something was still bothering Jaskier. Gently he reached over and grabbed Jaskiers hand which was lying gently on his knee. 

"Talk to me dear what's going on." Geralt brought Jaskiers hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it. 

"I haven't been home in so long. I'm afraid of what they will say. What if this whole thing is just to see if the life I'm living is up to their standards. They think you're just a friend. I don't know what to do." Jaskier rambled. 

"Hmmmmm." Geralt mumbled, focusing on the road ahead. He didn't know Jaskier hadn't told his parents about them. It had taken him a long time to build up the courage to ask Jaskier out; he really didn't want to hide again. But he knew Jaskier was worried about what his parents thought so he didn't want to push the situation. Jaskier kept rambling until they stopped for a quick bathroom break and lunch. Once back on the road Jaskier grabbed Geralt's hand from the steering wheel and looked at him with a concerned look on his face.

"You've hardly said anything. You promised to be more open with me. What is going on in your mind?". 

"It's nothing Jaskier. I don't want you to worry.". 

"I'm going to worry. Please tell me.".

"Hmmmm. Fine. I didn't realize you never told your parents about us. I kept my feelings for you hidden for so long I don't want to do it again. But I don't want your parents hating you so there isn't much I can do.". 

"Geralt, you don't need to hide your feelings for me from them. I don't want you to! I'll deal with the consequences. I'd rather lose them than lose you.". 

"Jaskier……". 

"Don't you dare Jaskier me. I mean it. I love you.". 

"How about we take it slow then. Just act like friends for tonight…..". 

"Geralt…no I want to dance with you. What's the point of this dinner and ball if we can't dance?". 

"You're my bard sing one of the songs you wrote for me. We will dance together later after the ball.".  

Even though Geralt couldn't see Jaskiers face he knew he was pouting as he thought it all over. 

"Fine. I think I can deal with that.". 

Geralt leaned over and kissed Jaskier on the cheek real fast, "Perfect so tell me about your family. What should I expect?".

Jaskiers face lit up as he ranted about his younger years. He would occasionally show Geralt a picture on his phone of his family to go with the story he was telling. Finally they pulled up at the entrance of the Lettenhove mansion. Jaskier squeezed Geralt's hand as they parked. They grabbed their suitcases and made their way to the door. 

“Make yourself at home,” You jibed. Seeing the tall frame of Geralt by your small fire place. He was serving the food up on two plates. Your small round wooden table set with two sets of knives and forks. There was already a mug of mead on one side for Geralt, and a cup of fresh juice on the other for you.

“You have said I’m always welcome,” Geralt replied with the usual stony tone of his. But as he turned, setting down a plate of hot food for you, his amber eyes were gentle. An amused twitch to his commonly stoic expression.

“A mistake on my end.” You told him. Thanking him as you placed your basket of goods from town on the bench by the door. “What are you doing in the area? Jaskier came by a few weeks ago. Told me you were heading South.”

“Job fell through,” Geralt said as you joined him at the table. The seasoned food was filling your home with a mouth-watering aroma. And Geralt gave no pleasantries as he started to wolf down his large plate of meats and vegetables. “Man got strung up by his people. Apparently, there was no monster. Just him.”

“Sounds well deserved.” You muttered, digging into your own breakfast. It always surprised you how Geralt seemed to be good at so many things. Cooking was one of them. When given the right materials and tools, of course. It was difficult to make a tasty meal out in a storm or snow over a pitiful excuse of a fire. When given a kitchen with spices and various herbs, Geralt could whip up a meal that would put Royal Chief’s to shame.

“I’m heading back North to find work. Thought I’d drop by. See if there were any jobs here.” You gave Geralt a roll of your eyes. There had been no monsters in these parts for some time. Ever since you first met Geralt, when he had actually come here for work and got a job; his visit seemed to scatter even the smallest dangers from the area. You’ve never been so safe in the woods before. Even as a child foraging with your parents, there had been dangers of ghoul attacks and strange unknown beasts. Now, not a thing stirred in the dark corners of the woods outside your stead. Just a few wolves and possibly a bear.

“The local cattle-men are looking for strong hands to help fix their fences.” You offered. Chuckling when Geralt sneered down into his food. “You didn’t specify what work you were looking for.”

“I don’t think the locals would appreciate my help,” Geralt mumbled. You shrugged, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you at the thought of the local populace. Peace brewed trouble. And with you being one of the few outside the walls of the town, unmarried and without many friends in town, that trouble bubbled in your direction. Nothing you couldn’t handle. A few whispered rumours and back-chatting wasn’t anything you decided to waste energy on. But it did pile up. And it got frustrating when you were trying to barter for supplies in town.

Geralt looked up from his plate at the sound of your sigh. Noting the gentle tiredness around your eyes and the way your shoulders slumped as you dwindled over something in your mind. Geralt finished his food slowly. Picking at the vegetables with his fingers as you told him what he missed from the last time he saw you. Weeks on the road gave very little time to enjoy a hot meal in peace. And your company eased the long journey from his tensed muscles. He could relax a little here. It was a small pleasure even to sit on something other than dirt. He listened closely to your telling of the platoon of soldiers that passed town. Enjoying the story of how you precured a new goat for your home, naming it Jask.

“Because it does nothing but bleat all day.” You chuckled, taking a sip from your juice.

Geralt allowed a grin to slip across his lips. He’d love to see Jaskier’s reaction to having a goat named after him. “Undoubtedly, he’d make a song out of it.” Geralt said.

“Song for the ages, aye?” You laughed. But there was that tiredness again. Geralt didn’t have to ask if you were ok. You weren’t ill and your heart-beat was steady. You were just tired.

Geralt drained the last of his mead and gestured to your food. “Finish up. I need your help with something.”

You paused your eating and stared up at the Witcher. Surprise flickering across your face as you muddled over what a Witcher could possibly need help with. “Oh?” Was all you managed to get out. And Geralt merely nodded. Getting up from his seat and exiting the home. You hurriedly ate what you had left and downed your juice. Running outside to join Geralt by Roach.

“And what am I helping you with?” You asked. Geralt didn’t reply right away. Moving to the side of Roach and taking her reins. Leading her outside your estate fence and starting down the road. You clambered onto Roach’s saddle as you moved with them. Giving the mare a scratch along her neck as Geralt led you towards the forest.

“I’m looking for a few herbs for my concoctions,” Geralt finally replied. “But we’re also on the hunt. Keep your eyes open.”

Your chest swelled with excitement, and dare you say, terror. The stories you've heard. The heads and parts of monsters Geralt has had on his saddle; they were horrifying. But you've always been curious to see how Geralt hunts. And to see a monster, alive, and in the flesh.

What safer way to see a monster than right next to a Witcher?

"What are we hunting?" You asked with an eager tremble to your voice. "I haven't heard about any slaughters around here. Or any monster sightings. Did you smell something from my house?" You couldn’t help but tease. Geralt has never properly explained to you how he senses monsters. Tracking was obvious. But knowing that there was one nearby was something different.

"We're not hunting a monster." Geralt sighed. And you felt that flutter of excitement stutter.

"...a deer then?" You asked. A little crest-fallen.

"A spot for you to relax." Geralt looked at you over his shoulder. An amused glint to his wolfish gaze. “You're stressed, (y/n)

"I am not!" You snapped. With almost enough ferocity to make Roach's ears lay flat. Geralt’s eyebrow flicked up, and you sighed. Slumping in the saddle as Roach walked. "...Ok…Maybe a little."

There was no point lying to a Witcher. For all you knew, Geralt probably could smell stress. Or something weird like that. “Are the townspeople scared you talk so naturally to a Witcher?” Geralt asked as he turned back to the road. The forest was thicker now. The dark wooded pines stood tall enough to block out the sky. The sun filtered through their dense canopies in rays of yellow light and wind carried the scent of wildflowers and wet moss.

“No.” You sighed. It was going to be awkward to talk about it to Geralt. But you needed to rant. You hadn’t had anyone to complain too in a while. Jaskier was always fun to bitch to. But it’s been weeks since you last saw him. “Do you know about Valentines Day?” You asked. “Its some day in this month that celebrates love and flowers or something. We’ve celebrated it a few times in town, but for some reason, this year, the town is really draining it for all its worth.”

Geralt stayed silent. His gaze wandering the trees as you continued. “And the Mayor is having all farms bring their goods to a festival in a few days. Flowers are being hung up everywhere to celebrate. Lovers and partners are giving each other flowers and little gifts. And me…being one of the few unmarried in town, people start talking. And to be honest, it’s kind of…upsetting seeing everyone getting gifts. Sounds…stupid and mushy. But…I’ve never received flowers before. And seeing them everywhere, seeing the pretty bouquets some people are getting. Makes you feel a little lonely.”

You didn’t expect Geralt to have any words of comfort. Or to have any insight whatsoever on this. It was just nice to let it out. You had been denying yourself the right to feel lonely as the festival grew closer. You sold your little farm’s bounties to young couples and elderly partners. Seeing their faces brighten with wide smiles as they gave each other their gifts. It was hard. It hurt. And a part of you felt selfish for feeling that way. But it was the truth.

You sighed again, “Maybe I’ll pick my own flowers. Treat myself to a little gift. From me to me.” You chuckled, despite how pitiful it sounded. And you let your eyes wander the nearby forest. Suddenly, Geralt tugged on Roach’s reins and led her off the path. You clung to the saddle as the two of them climbed a gentle slope up into the thicket of trees. You ducked low hanging branches and felt the leaves of brickle bushes brush against your legs. You were about to ask where he was going when the trees suddenly broke apart, and Geralt led Roach into a vast clearing of green grass. Sunlight poured over the open area. Bringing the numerous colourful petals to life as your eyes scanned the area. It was like a fairy-tale. Birds even swooped down and nestled on the soft grass. Singing curiously as Geralt held Roach still as you dismounted.

“By the Gods, this is beautiful.” You said almost breathlessly. “I’ve walked this forest many times, and I’ve never seen this before.”

“The flowers are quite potent.” Geralt commented. Releasing the reins so Roach could wander around freely. She immediately went to a nearby shrub and started munching the lush foliage. “I could smell them from the road.”

You crouched down and held your nose near one of the flowers. It had a sweet scent that tickled your nose and made you smile. You almost didn’t have the heart to pluck any of them. You stood and looked back over the scene in front of you, taking it in. You could feel the tension in your shoulders relaxing. It was so pleasant.

“So, what kind of plants do you need for your concoctions?” You asked, turning back to Geralt. But you were met with a soft smile, and a bouquet of wildflowers held out to you. You couldn’t help the flush that washed over you as you took the bundle from Geralt’s hand. The smile on your lips was giddy and wide, and it made Geralt’s chest swell a little as you hugged carefully inspected the petals.

“Aww, Geralt, you’re gonna make me all mushy inside.” You said, playfully pouting your lips as the Witcher chuckled.

“Jaskier told me about Valentine’s Day,” Geralt told you. Passing you with a gentle smile as he continued to pluck more flowers from around you. “He also taught Ciri how to make flower crowns.”

You could imagine Ciri and Jaskier making flower crowns, it seemed like a thing Jaskier would do in hope of Ciri making Geralt wear one. But you watched with an ever-growing smile as Geralt skilfully wove the stems of flowers together. Holding it with tender fingers as he collected more and added it to the circling crown. You were about to protest when he approached you with the completed tiara of wildflowers. But as he placed it on your head, you felt a burst of soft butterflies swarm your stomach.

“A gift from a Witcher.” Geralt smiled. “I’m sure that’ll beat any roses anyone gets for Valentines Day.”

That giddy flush washed over you again as you buried your nose into the flowers again. “No one will believe me, though.” You shrugged. And Geralt chuckled. Looking over at the berry bush Roach was happily chomping away on.

“We’ll stay here for the day. The fruit here are edible.” And so, Geralt removed the blanket from Roach’s saddle and spread it out in the centre of the clearing. While you sat in the sun, attempting to weave your own flower crowns, Geralt foraged you a pile of berries and fruits, which were plump and sweet. Sitting with you through the day as you spent time talking until night started to creep in. Roach carried you back to your home with Geralt on guard, watching the darkening forest.

“Thank you. Again, Geralt.” You said as you entered your home, placing the bouquet of flowers in a small pot filled with water. “I have bragging rights now.” You carefully placed your collection of different flower crowns along the benches of your home. Even hanging some up by the windows and doors. You had created a lot of them.

“Jaskier, I’m sure, will be most jealous.” Geralt replied. Leaning his two swords against the wall of your home. He had replaced his armour with a white under shirt and comfortable travelling trousers. Carrying his bedroll to spread it over the stone floor by the fire. The common spot for him to sleep while visiting.

“Tomorrow, we’ll go hunting for your herbs.” You said, slipping into the other room to change into something more comfortable for bed.

“We did get this distracted.” Geralt murmured. His gaze alight by the flickering flames as he sprawled out in front of them. “I won’t stay long.”

You smiled sadly, allowing your expression to fall now he couldn’t see you. “You never do.” You whispered solemnly. But then you added on more loudly. “You know you’re welcome here anytime. For as long as you want.”

You didn’t hear his reply. If there was one at all. But as you peeked out, you found his eyes closed and chest rising and falling gently. You smiled. And closed the door to your bedroom. Going to bed with new type of loneliness in your chest.

************************************

The next morning you woke to the sound of a lute being played. Loud enough that it had to be just outside your window in your garden. The melody was sweet and the voice that was carried with it was very familiar. You threw back your blankets and ran to the window. Peering out into the morning to find Jaskier sitting the stone wall that circled your house. The lute being strung as he sang a popular love song he sang in taverns.

You smiled and threw open your windows, being greeted by Jaskier with a wink and a wide, cheeky smile. “Geralt already beat you to the Valentines gifting. But that’s really sweet of you Jaskier.” You said with a boastful tone. The music stuttered and Jaskier almost fell off his perch. He gave you a playful glare, one that said ‘as if’. But before either of you could say something, Geralt exited the house. A coy curl lifted his lips as Jaskier gasped dramatically.

“You gave them gifts?! Where’s mine?” He demanded. Launching off the wall to follow Geralt around to the goats.

“Come meet her. She’s around the back.” Geralt replied, flashing you a smile as the two disappeared into the pen.

You waited a few seconds by your open window. Listening. “YOU NAMED A GOAT AFTER ME!”

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