#valanthiel

More than once on the road he had turned to speak to Geralt only to remember that he wasn’t there and had to deal with the fresh wave of hurt and loss that came with the absence of his best friend. It was almost maddening sometimes. They felt it most when they settled into a camp for the night. There was no teasing banter, no grunts or Hm’s, no rhythmic sound of him whetting his blades, no frustrated sighs as he tried to meditate whilst they messed around. Jaskier in particular was quieter than usual, and Vayla knew he was feeling the loss of the Witcher deeply. The bard slept restlessly and became riddled with tension whenever anyone raised their voice around him.