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Geralt stabbed his knife into the nearest tree, the blade sunk into the birch splitting the wood as it went it. Sap dripped from the spot. He sat against it and began to set up camp for the knife when he heard a crying sound and turned to find his knife no longer embedded within the tree but in the side of a half naked man laying in the ground, sap like blood dripping from the wound he inflicted.
“Next time-,” the man seethed, “think about where you go stabbing this thing!” The grass below him began to die as he sobbed.
Geralt’s yellow eyes grew wide as the man went to remove knife from the wound. “Wait stop that wi-.” As the knife toppled to the ground flowers began to bloom from the open injury.
The man continued to lay on the floor flat on his back. He ran his hand over a leaf woven skirt that covered his lower half. “You stabbed me human!”
“I’m a Witcher, I stab things, non-human things. You came out of the tree, I stabbed the tree.”
“I am the tree!”
Geralt helped him up off the ground too a standing position. “You’re a nature dryad.”
“Yes a nature dryad you stabbed!” The boy nodded his bare chest heaving in agitation, however when he got a closer look at the man his heart began to beat wildly. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“You’re attractive for a non nature dryad or nymph.”
Geralt was caught off guard to say the least. “I stabbed you, you just yelled at me for it.”
“Yes, but I’ve healed. The flowers are healthy and white means I’m not infected or dying. So while you stabbed me, I’m still alive.”
Geralt cocked his head and looked over the flowers that had bloomed from his accidental wound. “I’m a Witcher, I kill non-human things.”
“Dryads are harmless and you know it, the worst we do is kill a few trees or flowers during the winter months. You have no reason to want to kill me.”
Geralt eyed him. “Let me repeat, I stabbed you.”
“I’ve been stabbed before, amazing really how I can look like a simple tree and yet people continue to stab their weapons into my chest and sides. I need a new tree I suppose.”
Geralt nibbled on his lower lip. “Alright fine, you can stay for a little while.”
Jaskier smiled proudly. He looked over hearing a noise and saw a horse. He ran over to it and placed his hand on its snout and smiled before laying his own forehead against their nose. “Well hello, you must be the grouchy Witcher’s horse?”
“Her name is Roach.” Geralt remarked sitting beside the sizzling fire. He turned meat over the flames, slowly cooking his meal nearly unfazed by the male nymph.
“Roach… an odd name for a horse but she doesn’t seem to upset about it. Do you Roach?”
Roach whinnied and stomped her left hoof into the ground which made Jaskier giggle some, at the sound of his laughter flowed began to bloom around them. The grass he had killed with his tears began to grow back.
“Your emotions grows and kills things?” Geralt asked as he watched the flowers.
“Many things I do affect the plant life around me.” Jaskier replied as he sat beside the Witcher. He began singing, Geralt was mesmerized by him, if he had been a water nymph he would have thought he was part siren.
Strawberry and blueberry bushes began to pop up beside them, the fruit grew in a matter of seconds. Roach stomped her left hoof as if giving him a beat. Jaskier plucked one from the plant and handed it to Geralt. “Like I said, a lot of things I do affect the plant life and animals around me.”
Geralt slowly took the juicy red berry. He turned it over in him palm and looked him over. “It’s safe?”
“If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t have grown strawberries. Nightshade would have worked much better.” He muttered with an eye-roll. His pretty eyes sparkled as Geralt considered the odds and bit down on the delicious fruit.
Geralt hummed at the flavor before placed his cooking meet over the fire to cook on its own and collected the berries before holding them out for Roach. Jaskier smirked, he couldn’t help but appreciate a man who cared for nature. Even if he did stab an unsuspecting tree.
“So you’re a Witcher, you kill monsters and dangerous things that harm humans?”
Geralt grunted and gave him a curt nod. “I suppose that’s the easy way to say explain what I do.”
Jaskier chucked running his fingers through the grass, a few small flowers bloomed from his touch. He plucked one, it was the same yellow as the Witcher’s eyes. He handed it to him with a smile. Geralt held the flower, a buttercup in his large hand. “I’m going to call you buttercup.”
“It’s Jaskier, we have names Witcher.”
“Well my name is Geralt. Not Witcher.”
“I don’t mind buttercup.” Jaskier admitted. “I could come with you, as long as wherever you go has a tree I could join you.”
Geralt raised an eyebrow. “You’d want to join me buttercup?”
“I get board out here, and maybe if I join you I’ll stop getting stabbed.” Geralt laughed out loud, Jaskier smiled at the sound, but realized the laughing was about his comment about not getting stabbed. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m a Witcher buttercup, I get stabbed very regularly.”
Jaskier looked him over with a half cocked smirk. “How do human wounds heal?”
Geralt smirked and pulled his shirt off. “Scars.”
Jaskier couldn’t help but mutter at seeing the human topless. He looked it over curiously laying his fingers on the wounds. “Interesting,” he mumbled, “mine just heal after the flowers fall out.”
Geralt nodded as he felt his fingers brush the old and newer scars. Geralt watched him curiously as he inspected him closer. He hadn’t realized his skin was a green tint till he got so close. The flowers the bloomed from his wound tickled his skin as they got closer.
“Alright buttercup, I’ll let you stay for now. I live a dangerous life.”
“I think I’ll be okay,” he smiled as he inched closer.
Geralt mumbled as he brought him closer.
Maybe he was part siren after all.
Their lips met, if Geralt knew what sunshine tasted like he would say that was what the dryad tasted like. Jaskier muttered into the kisses, flowers began to bloom behind them. A rose bush began to bloom as they kissed more desperately.
Jaskier panted as they pulled away. He noticed the bloomed rose bush. “I’d like to stay.”
“You’ll stay.”