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frost-queen · 9 months

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I was promised to you (Reader x Geralt of Rivia)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine, @evilcr0ne,

Summary: You are Ciri's older sister and promised to Geralt. When you get seperated from your sister after Cintra get's attacked you are saved by your guardian who you are hesitant off at first. Not liking each other at first, you begin to warm up to one another. Finally reunited with your sister she teases you for liking Geralt leaving you flustered. Geralt and you confront each other in an heated discussion which leads to an intimat kiss. [I changed the end approach a tiny bit]

“Cirilla!” – you screamed out the moment the impact hit. Bricks crumbling down, crashing down hard. Cirilla fell back. You immediately started scooping up bricks to clear your path to her. – “Are you hurt? Cirilla are you hurt?” – you called out in a panic, throwing bricks behind you. – “No…” – hearing her faint voice made your heart ease just a little bit. The bricks rolled down making you jump aside before they could hurt your feet. – “Cirilla!” – lifting your head up you saw your sister. You went across, throwing your arms around her. She hugged you tight back panting at what was happening around her.

“We…we have to leave.” – you told her taking her by the hand. Cirilla nodded as you led her on. Cintra was under attack, and you needed to leave the castle and city immediately. Hearing a scream or agony followed by a soldier stumbling in sight at the end of the corridor with a sword inside of him made you stop frantically. The one who had stabbed him came in sight as well, kicking the soldier out of balance.

The soldier tumbled to the ground as his blood smeared the stone floor. – “Close your eyes.” – you told your little sister not wanting her to see it. Cirilla squeezed her eyes shut, clamping onto you. Knowing you couldn’t stay here, you searched for a way out before they would notice you. On your right there was a door as you took the rash decision of opening it.

Quickly shutting it behind you. Cirilla let go of you while you barricaded the door with some chairs. Sounds from outside filling the empty space. Cirilla slowly walked up to the open window gap hearing the commotions louder. Her eyes widened with fear the closer she got. Screams of terror and slashes reaching her ears. Standing close enough she gasped loud, covering her mouth with a hand at the sight of the fires. Everything burning as the smoke reached the skies rapidly.

“Cirilla!” – you called out not seeing her around you immediately. The moment you spotted her, you ran up to her. Turned her around whilst covering up her eyes with your hand. – “Don’t look at that!” – you said loudly. Staring out of the window as well, you suddenly felt your palm wettened. Lifting your hand off her eyes it was clear she was crying. Kneeling down in front of her, you wiped some tears away. – “Don’t be afraid Cirilla. We’ll make it.” – you reassured her.

The loud banging on the door startled you. Cirilla panicked as you jumped up. The thumping got louder. The wooden door splintering. – “Y/n!” – Cirilla cried out tugging at your hand. Having to think quick, you looked around the room. The room was very simple. A table, some chairs, a fallen closet, and a bed.

The thought came so naturally you rushed up to the bed. Grabbing the blankets in a haste. Returning to your sister you almost fell tripping over a blanket that brushed the floor. – “Take these!” – you told her shoving them in her arms. Cirilla was staring in a panic at you. – “Start tying them!” – you ordered under the command of thuds on the door. You knew the chairs weren’t going to hold that door forever. Cirilla started to tie the ends of the blankets to one another. There was no time to be certain if it was long enough or even strong enough to hold you.

Grabbing the blankets frantically you were finding the end of the knotted one’s. With a soft pant you held the free end up. – “Keep tying!” – you told her as you rushed to the bed. Tying the free end around the pole. – “Done!” – Cirilla said out of breath. The thumping got louder and more rapid as it made you hurry over to her. Taking the knotted blankets from her you threw them out of the window. The fabric fell gracefully in place. – “Ciri!” – you grabbed her by the shoulder shoving her forwards. – “Go down now!” – you ordered her being chased by the loud banging.

“Wha…what about you?” – she wondered as you practically shoved her out of the window. – “I’ll be right behind you.” – you replied helping her out of the window. Cirilla held on tight to the blankets, hanging out of the window. – “Hold on tight, go down and run as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you.” – you reassured her. Cirilla nodded with teary eyes. You watched her slowly go down. The door got kicked in as it made you gasp loud.

Two soldiers rushed at you, grabbing you forcefully by the arms. – “No!” – you screamed out kicking your feet for freedom. – “Y/n!” – Cirilla cried out wanting to climb back up. – “Go!” – you shouted loud as you were getting dragged away. – “Save yourself!” – fighting against their grip. The last thing you saw was Cirilla’s frightful eyes peeking over the window watching you get taken away. She nearly fell down from screaming in terror. Underneath of her Cintra was burning. The city was burning, and she needed to get out quickly. Sobbing loud she lowered herself till she came at the end of the blankets.

There was nothing else to do then jump. She let go of the blankets with a gasp, falling down. She imagined she’d break her bones once hitting the ground. Yet the hard impact never came. Instead of bruising herself on the cobblestone she got caught by sturdy arms. The person who caught her going briefly through their knees from impact. Opening her eyes she met up with two yellow one’s. The man stared briefly back at her as if trying to recall something. After a few seconds he set her down. Just as easily as he had caught her, he put her down for only to take his leave.

“Wait!” – Cirilla called out impulsively. The man kept walking not taking a moment to stop and hear her out. – “Who are you?” – she said loudly going after him. When she rounded the corner there was no sight of him. Not far ahead of her neighed a horse loud as fell to the ground, the soldier on it crushed underneath the weight. Cirilla gasped loud, turning quickly around to avoid getting taken by two soldiers that had come to take Cintra. She started running. Running like she’s never done before. Heading straight for the woods.

Geralt grunted deep walking casually between the fights. None affecting him as they were occupied with fighting each other. He kept eyeing both sides in search of something. A soldier had broken free from the fight coming his way. Geralt drew his sword slashing the soldier down before it could even come near him. Ashes falling from the sky as it had turned a dark orange. The smell of burnt and dead lurking around every corner. There much not much left of the courtyard as he looked around. Grunting again he pushed on making his way through the smoke.

The two Nilfgaard soldiers kept dragging you through the corridors. – “Let me go!” – you shouted fighting with every might for freedom. They rounded the end of a corridor as you heard the faint sound of an arrow. The soldier on your left loosened his grip on you making you turn to look at him. An arrow had penetrated his neck as it made you scream loud. Before he could drop to the ground, the other one was taken care of as well. Both dropped lifeless to the ground. A pair of hands grabbing you.

You flinched, panicked, screaming loud in defense, and jumping around for the hands to let go of you. You got pushed against the stone wall, a hand silencing you. – “Shhht princess.” – the man spoke as you recognized him from the council. – “We have to get you out of here.” – he said lowly removing his hand. He grabbed you roughly by the arm, guiding you through the castle. – “Where is your sister? Where is princess Cirilla?” – he asked wanting to know her whereabouts. – “She’s out… I got her out.” – you told him. – “Let us pray she is unharmed.” – he whispered pulling you through a door.

With his help you managed to get outside. – “I’ll go fetch a horse, stay here.” – he said getting in motion. – “Wait!” – you shout-whispered pulling him to a stop. – “You can’t leave me here alone. I am defenseless.” – you made very clear. The man pulled out a dagger handing it to you. – “Pray you may never need to use it.” – he said before heading off leaving you alone in the dark.

Stumbling a bit as if you were about to pass out, you felt the adrenaline leave your body. The dagger in your hand you looked up to the skies as they burned. You so hoped Cirilla would be alright. You didn’t care for your own life as long as your sister lived. You jumped out of your skin, holding the dagger tight for only the man to return with a horse. – “Princess get on.” – he ordered. You hurried over getting on the horse. The man didn’t sit behind you as you thought. – “Are… are you not coming with me?” – you asked scared.

The man shook his head. – “You’ll be faster on your own.” - he said forcing you to grab onto the reins. – “But… I… I…” – you stuttered out unable to find the words. – “You have to leave Cintra, princess!” – he called out slapping the horse. The horse neighed loud startling you. The horse ran off as you clamped onto the reins for dear life. The horse sprinted off leaving the castle grounds behind it.

A soldier tried to come up to you but got knocked back by the horse. You felt like the horse was more leading you then you were leading it. It galloped around avoiding any obstacles. The closer you got to the city, the crowder it became. Gasping loud you heard another set of neighs. Looking over your shoulder a soldier in all black came in pursuit.

Running underneath an archway your eyes met up with a man going in the opposite direction. The contact was brief as he passed by like a blur. More soldiers began to swarm around you making the horse search frantically for a way out. It knocked some soldiers over whilst running off. You got bounced around as the horse kept making sudden moves and change of directions. A line of Nilkgaard soldiers blocked your way, swaying with fire at your horse. The fire made your horse threw you off his back, hitting the ground hard.

You called out to the horse, but it ran off. The soldiers came swirling around you, closing in on you. You got up to your feet with shaky legs, holding the dagger with a tremble. – “Stay back!” – you said trying to sound bravely slashing the dagger around to keep them away. The pressure of a hand on your shoulder made you flinch, screaming frightened. Having spun around there was another hand on your shoulder. You tried moving away from it as a hand clenching around the back of your neck held you in place.

You got pulled back feeling the fingers squeeze into your skin. – “Look what I got!” – the one holding you said laughable. – “I have the princess!” – you kept squirming your body to break free. Before you knew it there were several hands grabbing at you. Tugging and tearing at your clothing to get a piece of you. – “I’ll kill her!” – you heard a voice say but couldn’t see who was speaking. Calling it out you got suffocated under the swarm of soldiers.

Their armor thick and heavy. The slashing of a sword filled your ears as it seemed to give you some breathing area. The hands were slowly letting go of you one by one. You couldn’t see what was happening it was if a shadow was moving across. Slaying your enemies one by one. Swords clashed in a continuing battle. Screams of pain left and right. Gasping loud you pushed the few remaining hands off you. Sudden silence as you opened your eyes. Getting up you could see your enemies slayed. Their bodies scattered around. Slowly turning round your eyes fell upon a soldier… no a man kneeling.

His sword dangling in his grip covered in blood. He slowly lifted his head to meet up with your gaze. Eyes as bright as yellow staring back at you. Your eyes widened at the blood on his face. Not entirely sure what his intentions were you took a run for it. He could’ve easily killed them to walk away with the credit of killing you himself. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that he was coming after you. Screaming loud it panicked you that he was. Making your way out of the city and towards the forest.

He was closing in on you, heart beating out of control. Panting loud you kept running till. Your foot hit something hard forcing your body to get flung forwards as you tripped. A quick scream filled the air before you fell to the ground. You rolled over gasping loud when the man came leaning down on you. Hands pressed beside your head. Afraid you started scratching your hands around.

“Stop!” – he grunted out grabbing for your hands with one of his own. – “Let me go!” – you called out not wanting to die like this. – “I’m not going to hurt you!” – he called out with a deepness in his voice. You still didn’t believe him, using your feet instead. He groaned when you hit his stomach. – “I’m saving your ass!” – he called out rudely having enough of your protest. – “As if I would believe you.” – you replied loudly using your hands to punch him on his shoulder. He removed himself from you getting up. You hadn’t heard the soldier come up, but he did.

He drove his sword inside of the soldier. You got up when he pulled it out hesitant if you could take a run for it. Before you even took two steps he grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you with him. You started slapping his hand to get it off your wrist. – “Let me go!” – you groaned annoyed as he only tightened his grip. – “No!” – he shouted roughly in your face. It made you swallow and turn to silence. – “Who are you!” – you wanted to know. He didn’t answer till he was in the woods with you.

You blinked surprised seeing a horse tied up by a branch. He untied the reins ordering you to get up. – “Not before you tell me who you are!” – crossing your arms you demanded answers first. He sighed loud briefly looking up. – “Geralt.” – he answered gesturing for you to get on the horse. So you went saddling up. – “Wait… do you mean Geralt as in Geralt of Rivia the witcher?” – you asked as he got on the horse behind you.

You swallowed nervously when he rounded his arm around you to get to the reins. He remained silence as the horse got in motion. – “I am princess Y/n.” – you told him. – “I know.” – he grunted out making you scoff. – “Well of course you know I was promised to you.” – you said out loud as Geralt quirked his eyebrow up. – “All my life I’ve been told about the witcher I was promised to.” – you continued till a sudden thought crossed your mind. – “Does this mean I am to be your wife?” – you questioned bluntly. – “No.” – he responded with force.

A bit offended you crossed your arms. – “Good, because I didn’t want to be your wife in the first place.” – you responded bothered. Annoyed you kept silent till you couldn’t help yourself but speak. – “So if I was promised to you does this mean you are like a guardian to me?” – you asked. He only hummed once clearly not eager to talk with you. Admittingly you got a bit excited about that. – “Does this mean you have to get things done for me?” – you went on. – “If that is the case I don’t have much to ask for just.” – you moved your hand forward to start counting on it.

“One find my sister for me, two a new place to live and three can… can you find me a lover?” – you requested. Geralt huffed loud. – “I’m not your errand boy.” – he responded. – “But as my guardian you can make those things happen. I don’t ask much. If you can a few done of these I’d be happy.” – you happily expressed. Geralt came closer to your ear, whispering in it. – “No.” – his breath tickled making you rub your ear. – “Guardian… pfft guardian my ass…” – you mumbled to yourself.

“Y/n!” – Ciri screamed out at the sight of you. Your breath shocked seeing your sister run over to you. – “Cirilla!” – you screamed back getting up frantically. Tears swelled up in your eyes as you ran over to her. Arms wide to greet her in a warm hug. Ciri crashed against your body, wrapping her arms around you. Feeling the warmth of her body against yours made you cry. Geralt slowly rose and approached slowly. Ciri and you stopped hugging. – “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” – you told her wiping your tears away.

“How did you make it out? Survive for all those months?” – you asked wanting to know every detail. Ciri’s eye fell on Geralt behind you. – “Oh.” – she said surprised pointing at him. Her surprise made you look over your shoulder to him as well. Geralt bowed for Ciri. – “He…he caught me when I fell out of the window.” – she said. – “He did?” – you responded to her seeing her nod. – “That is Geralt my guardian. Remember everyone talking about that promise. Well it is true. I am promised to him.” – you explained to your sister.

She smiled at him. – “He’s handsome.” – she whispered to you. – “Maybe a bit.” – you whispered back teasingly. – “Oh it is so good to be reunited with you.” – you took her hands leading her to the fire crackling. You sat her down on a log as you sat on the one close to her. – “Where… where have you been sister? How… how did you find me?”

Ciri took a deep breath looking a bit away. – “I’ve been lonely without you.” – she said softly. – “Your promise kept me strong. The promise that we would meet again.” – she reminded you. Geralt puffed soft finding it the silliest thing ever. – “Don’t mind him he’s like that.” – you told your sister ignoring him. Geralt glared briefly your way making your sister giggle loud. You looked over your shoulder with a glance full of attitude at him. Ciri looked between the two of you smiling shyly. – “Y/n.” – she patted you on the knee for your attention. – “Did he save you?” – she asked as it made you look shyly down.

“I did.” – Geralt replied making you look annoyed behind you to him. – “She was helpless even with a dagger. Couldn’t even stab someone properly.” – he continued. – “Oh, did you have a dagger?” – Ciri called out. You hummed loud turning towards her. – “Someone from the council gave it to me for protection.” – you told her completely ignoring Geralt. Feeling a bit left out, he started to mingle himself in the conversation. – “I am the one that brought up the dagger, so why are you talking to her.” – he didn’t mean to sound desperate but it kind of showed.

Ciri only smiled further noticing how smitten he clearly was with you. You sighed loud. – “People who are in each other’s presence can conversate with each other.” – you told him without looking at him. – “People?” – Geralt responded funnily. – “You aren’t here with one single person. Look at me too and Roach.” – he called out finding you unbelievable. You turned more to your sister. – “So how did you find me?” – you asked her again. – “What did you say again?” – Geralt said bothered. – “How dare you mock me like that when I’ve been so tolerant towards you ever since I saved you.” – he continued in a deep voice. Ciri pressed her lips together to hide her wide smile as you got up to face him.

“Who’s fault do you think it is I was promised and got this stupid cut.” – you said to him annoyed. Geralt leaned in pulling your hair up to reveal the cut in your neck. – “What do you mean stupid cut? It’s pretty.” – he answered loudly letting go of your hair. You gasped loud, touching your hair. – “Did you just hit me on the head?” – you called out as he smiled sarcastically at you. – “I think you like him.” – Ciri teased. You shot her a glare for teasing you like that. – “I think you should be nicer to him.” – she added as Geralt smiled her way.

“He was like that from the start towards me!” – you told her. – “You are not to be my wife! I am not your guardian!” – you started listing them up. – “You thought you were nice to me when you said those things back.” – you continued sarcastically. – “I said all that for your sake.” – Geralt replied. – “If you really want what’s best for me go find me a lover!” – you shouted at him. – “A new place to live and a lover. What kind of promised guardian are you even!” – you started listing again counting on your fingers.

“Your lover is right here.” – Geralt answered loudly. – “Where? Where I don’t see him!” – you replied looking around as if one would appear. – “Right here! In front of you, me!” – he shouted pointing firm at himself. Your eyes widened at the sudden confession as a flush went up your cheeks. He was panting loudly staring harshly at you. Ciri felt like interrupting, so she kept quiet and turned away. Geralt laid his hands against your cheeks, pulling you close. Heart beating loudly he brought your lips to his.

The moment his lips kissed yours, you surrendered completely to him. The kiss was soft at first till he demanded more. Kissing you rougher as you just had to follow his pace. He only stopped kissing you when Ciri cleared her throat loud. – “As I was saying you like him.” – she told you with a wide smile. You could throw something at her for being so obvious.

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bumblesimagines · 9 months

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“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

- Ciri

“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

pronouns for y/n: he/him/his, male reader

Smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress, Ciri swept her gaze over those present. The Belleteyn festival. A chance for Ciri to feel normal again, to forget her worries for a night. All she felt was giddiness as she took in the lively attendees and listening to the music playing. She kept her mask close to her face and hoped nobody would recognize her.

Geralt and Yennefer's eyes bore into her back as she strode through the festivities, gaze bouncing around in order to soak everything in before they'd eventually be forced to go back out on the road in search of a new place to call home. She smiled and laughed at the performances, finally being able to enjoy herself. She turned to glance back at Geralt and Yennefer, shoulder bumping against someone and she saw it, a new vision.

She heard laughter, a mix of her voice and a stranger's. She saw someone's bare back turned toward her in a cozy bed and watched herself reach out to touch them. The wail of a baby pierced through next and she found herself holding a bundle that had her ashen-gray hair.

When she blinked, she saw the festival again and a voice rumbled near her ear. "Apologies." It sent a shiver down her spine and she whirled around, the mask nearly slipping from her fingers. The man tilted his head at her, (E/C) eyes peeking through the maroon mask on his face.

"You-" She caught herself and cleared her throat, finding that her hands had begun trembling. Had she just witnessed her future? Was she to become... a mother? A wife?

"Are you alright?" He asked, lips curling into a teasing smile. "Did I knock into you that hard?"

"No, I... Sorry, I..." At a loss for words for the first time in a while, Ciri certainly didn't miss the feeling. A hand gently touched her back and she glanced over her shoulder, finding Geralt and Yennefer at her side.

"Is something wrong, Ciri?" Geralt questioned, his eyes fixated on the man. Most would typically turn into blabbering messes when Geralt glared at them, but the stranger simply stared back at him until his attention turned to Yennefer and he grinned.

"It's been a while, Yen." He purred and scooped her hand into his, lips brushing against her knuckles. Ciri felt a flash of jealousy and blinked, startled by her own reaction.

"(Y/N)…" Yennefer breathed. "Vilgefortz said you were dead. He said you had been-"

"Killed in battle? And you believed that, Yen? You wound me." (Y/N) released her hand and shook his head, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment.

"You know each other?" Geralt cocked a brow, a frown settling on his features.

"(Y/N) is a mage who worked alongside Vilgefortz sometimes." Yennefer explained to the bulky witcher, violet eyes never leaving (Y/N), almost as if afraid if she blinked he'd disappear. "The Brotherhood had attempted many times to recruit him for his abilities. Why would he lead us to believe you were dead?"

"He owed me a favor." (Y/N) replied coolly and shrugged his shoulders, the disinterest on his face clear as day. Yennefer and Geralt exchanged a glance.

"You're a mage?"

"Indeed I am, Princess." Ciri's heart skipped a beat and she nearly huffed. He was a stranger. A potential threat... and possibly her future husband.

"What are you doing here then, mage?" (Y/N) looked back at Geralt, locking eyes with him as Geralt placed a protective hand over Ciri's shoulder.

"I was passing through and heard about the festival so I decided to attend."

"Where are you headed?"

"Anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere. I have no real destination in mind since it seems I'll bump into an old friend in most places. Being found by the Brotherhood is the last thing I desire." (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the witcher to gaze around him. Ciri swallowed.

"You should come with us."

"Ciri-"

"We have the same dilemma. We can help each other. You stay with us somewhere where you won't be found and in return, you can teach me magic." Ciri proposed with a sudden boost of confidence. (Y/N)'s lips formed a grin and he peered back at her, eyes lighting up with interest.

"I'm sure our little mage wouldn't enjoy-"

"Oh, I'm extremely okay with this."

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ramen-flavored · 9 months

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Damn, I wish they didn’t leave the season 3 finale on a cliff hanger like that. What a shame there won’t be a fourth season.

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cas-kingdom · 11 months

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PLS. GERALT TEACHING AKELA TO ICE SKATE 😩

Find the OC version of this fic here.

The air had been cold all morning, but somehow it was more so as you looked out across the frozen lake. Giggles carried towards you by the wind, soft laughter and teasing remarks from Ciri as she taught Yennefer to ice skate. One part of you longed to go and join them, but the other—

"Y/N."

You glanced over your shoulder. Geralt leant against the axe he'd been cutting wood with. His head tilted, one hand at his hip, he offered a knowing smile. "You can join them, you know."

He had already told you as such, so he knew you knew. Nonetheless, stubbornness ran through your veins like blood, and when your mind was set on something, it was set in stone. Though, Geralt had always considered himself adept at breaking that stone. He had an axe now, after all.

You sniffed and brushed your hair behind your ears, a useless act considering the winter breeze. You turned back to the lake and watched as Yennefer yelled out and slipped, grabbing onto Ciri with a flurry of giggles.

You were long over your aversion to the princess's relationship with Geralt, but this...feeling you had towards Ciri and Yennefer was unfamiliar and unanticipated. The two were obviously close. Ciri seemed to have that effect on people.

"No," you said eventually, "it's alright. Ciri has my skates, anyway."

Geralt shrugged. He dropped the axe and walked towards the lake. "We don't need skates. Come." He stopped by the bank and reached a hand behind him expectantly. When you didn't grasp it, he turned to see you stood in the same spot, unblinking. Geralt dropped his arm and sighed. "Y/N, you love to skate. Come here."

You didn't vocally decide not to listen, but Geralt was well versed in the behaviour of the girl he'd raised. When you crossed your arms over your chest, not defiantly, more unwillingly, he dropped his arm and let a small smile slip onto his face.

"You remember when I first taught you to skate?" he asked, stepping one foot on the lake. He tested it, his boot slipping easily across the smooth surface. "You were four."

You couldn't help but breathe a short laugh. "You mean I taught you."

The Witcher stepped onto the lake, using his arms for balance. He skidded a bit, then turned to face you. "I slipped over once," he reminded you.

"And used four-year-old me to keep you up."

Geralt hummed morosely. Admittedly, that had not been his finest moment. Still. He reached his arm out again and opened his hand. "If you are so good, come and prove it."

There was no hint of competitiveness in his voice, just a discreet encouragement, and you took it with a long sigh and a reluctant smile, trudging over to him and taking his hand. He helped you onto the lake, allowing you to grip his sleeve as you found your footing, and noted fondly that said grip did not slacken even as you both slid slowly along the outskirts of the lake.

Ciri and Yennefer were still far out in the middle, slipping and tripping and laughing until their hearts' content. Somehow, Geralt doubted you wanted to be close to them right now, and not because of your refusal to leave the safety of the lake's edge. He wouldn't discuss it with you until he felt you needed it. He had an idea of what was bothering you, but as long as it wasn't dispiriting you as much as it had when your disapproval had surrounded him, he was sure it would fix itself.

You let go of his sleeve eventually, eyes fixed on the ice as you slid along it. Geralt turned so he was gliding backwards, hands at the ready in case his apparently oh-so-professional child needed some support. You were determined, though, your lack of skates doing nothing to thwart you, and Geralt felt himself relaxing and enjoying the—

"Oh, fuck." The moment he took a single wrong step, everything went to shit. Balance long forgotten, Geralt went into panic mode, arms pinwheeling, feet fighting for traction. You panicked too at first, instinctively attempting to launch forward to catch him lest he fall straight forward, but when you figured out he was in no imminent danger, you straightened with a snort.

"Geralt, you—Geralt—Geralt, you're making it worse!" Your words arrived between barrels of laughter as Geralt continued in the reclamation of his balance. He looked like a newborn deer, its long legs unused to the ground beneath it. You had tears in your eyes and when a burst of hysterics echoed across the lake, you realised Ciri and Yennefer had noticed the spectacle too.

Your laughter died when Geralt did indeed fall forward, though from the look on his face you were sure it was purposeful. Before you could utter a single squeal of anticipation, he lunged towards you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down beneath him as he fell. His hands went behind your head to shield the impact but the wind was knocked from you all the same, even more so when the Witcher's tickling hands found your sides.

"Hey!" You could feel the laughter-induced tears on your cheeks freezing, the harsh wind almost as cold as the ice beneath you. Geralt made quick work of boxing you between his arms, poking and prodding and scribbling his fingers across every spot he knew you possessed.

"You may be better than me at ice skating," he ground out breathlessly, "but here is something I will always best you at."

"Stop ihit, you bihig lump!" You pushed at his face and Geralt grunted with his newly blocked vision. Seconds later, a heavy force ploughed into his back and he was knocked off course.

"Attack!" Ciri yelled. She grabbed piles of snow from the bank and shoved as much as her hands would allow down his jacket.

Geralt howled. "Fucking fuck, Cirilla!"

Yennefer leaned down and extended an arm towards you, still on your back and struggling for breath. You hesitated but took it. You stood up slowly, slipping once or twice, but made it safely into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer held you close, a grin on her face as she watched the princess and the Witcher wrestle, and you found yourself leaning into her. Yennefer leant her chin on your head, and you relaxed. As always, there was never a need to worry.

Your family was too tight-knit to ever leave anyone out.

Witcher Masterpost

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caffieneaddictt18 · 6 months

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Moment of Peace

sorceress!reader travels with geralt and ciri as their healer and ciris mother figure as geralts wife. one relaxing day, reader shows ciri a little party trick that geralt doesnt know yet. ends with geralt and reader play fighting about why she didnt show him but showed ciri; and them all acting like a family

(not my image)

As we finally settle in a meadow, surrounded by forest, I let out a sigh of relief. The feeling of sun against my face and the soft soil beneath me feels amazing.

"Ciri! Y/N! Go collect water. I'll be right back." Geralt commands, but before he can leave to collect wood and sustenance for the night, you stop him and give him a quick kiss.

"Be safe."

"Always am."

Those simple four words are all you need before you walk off into the forest for a few yards, before you come upon a clear water stream. You see Ciri standing in the water and feeling the sun while collecting water. As you join her in the water, she looks up.

"So... why do you allow him to order you around if you're his wife?" Ciri, blunt as ever, asks, not understanding that this is Geralt's way of showing his love.

"He doesn't 'order' me around. It's his way of keeping us safe. I'm a mage and can keep you safe. You're training and can keep me safe. Plus, he goes off and does the dangerous hunting, so we don't have to. It's his way of showing love." I explain his actions and why I react without losing my patience with the way Geralt talks to me.

"Oh. I didn't think about it like that." Ciri ticks her head to the side and continues to collect water.

"Geralt isn't conventional. But he is exactly how I want him. I wouldn't want it any other way." I start towards the bank of the river and continue walking along the greenery of the forest.

As Ciri looked on as you walked, she watched in mystery. The forest seemed to bend to your will. The trees would part to make a path for you and the stones would roll out of the way, leaving only soft soil for you to walk on.

As you both reached your camp site, Geralt was dragging a large deer, and a cloth behind him that was filled. Probably with wood.

You and Ciri both put your jugs down as Geralt drops the sack of wood off near you and walks to the trees to skin the animal for food & it's hide.

You have the sense to build the fire and let Ciri light it later. She's normally sleepy when you build the fire. Makes it easier.

As you both run around, you find a good size patch of daisies.

"Ciri!" You call over the girl, "Come here!"

The blonde girl runs over to see what you're looking at.

"Would you like to learn how to make a daisy chain? You can even put one on Geralt, if you'd like." You throw out the tempting offer to make the Witcher seem silly.

And Ciri quickly agrees. You sit down, careful to avoid the daisies, and show her how to make a daisy chain/flower crown.

As the sun is no longer at its nice, warm heat and enters the baking heat, you take Ciri down to the stream again to clean up. 'The sun will dry us faster' was your reasoning to drag the girl with you.

As you are cleaning your clothes and yourself off, you see Ciri doing the same. Perfect.

"Hey, Ciri! Would you like to see something?"

"Um... What is it?"

"I promise, no harm will come unto you from me. It's just a little party trick."

"Ok..." She waded closer to you as you met her in the middle of the stream.

You magically gathered the sweat and water from Ciri and yourself, throwing it into the air and condensing the clouds around the sun to have more water, allowing the clouds to form a sort of circle around the sun. As the sun continues to shine, the clouds begin turn colors... briefly pink, then a light green, and there's a light blue! (Refer to the picture at the top)

Ciri looks at the sky in awe. "You can do this?" She points to the clouds.

"Yes. When I was at Aretuza, they taught not just politics and magic. They taught basic sciences. This was one of those. I had asked my teacher why there as a rainbow after every rainfall. She explained it to me. Since then, I had been practicing it until I was able to perfect it. Took a couple tries, but it came one day, and it stayed."

"And you never showed me?" A deep, hulking voice inquired from the shadows. Of course, the yellow cat-like eyes gave him away.

"I'm sorry, Geralt. I thought of it as a mere party trick. And it's not like it is helpful when we are off on adventures." I laugh and 'apologize' for not showing my husband sooner.

"You better be sorry!" He charges out of the woods and into the stream, getting both you and Ciri wet again, before lifting you by the waist and carrying you back to base on his shoulder. Everyone was laughing and peace was covering the three of them.

Just a moment of peace.

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Author's Cup of Tea:

I am so sorry the ending was bad. I didn't know what to put for the ending so I winged it. Thank you all so much for your love and support of my work! I love to see everyone enjoying it.

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sayafics · 9 months

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Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter IV

Hey guys! Sorry for taking such a long break, I had a lot of fsmily events over the last few weeks and had a hard time juggling time.

I do hope you enjoy the update, though. I think this chapter will be the last for this series unless there's specific prompts/ideas you want to see. (If so, let me know in the comments or asks! I'd be v happy to write them <33)

TW: implied SA, slight violence

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Geralt had searched for months, the days scraping by as he looked for Andromeda in every shadow, in every smile, in every laugh that haunted him on his travels.

He had left his friends - left them all so he could find her.

Cirilla was safe with Yennefer at Aretuza, and Jaskier had wandered to distant lands, his heart full of broken ballads of an unfinished journey.

Geralt and Yennefer had kept a tentative friendship, ever so cautious to not overstep the boundaries Geralt had so diligently drawn up. Friendship came to them with ease, but every interaction was soured by guilt from one party and longing from the other.

Geralt ventured through the continents, unsure of what guided him and where. His mind was bare of thoughts and his heart burning with emotions he had never been taught to deal with. He was a mess.

He had barely slept since Andromeda had left, living off the scarcest meals as his stomach turned to lead at the idea she may be starving in some backwashed village all because he had messed up and sent her running.

Andromeda was a princess. She was not made for the life he lives. Yet she still followed him into danger, still healed his every wound, and still stood bravely in the face of death if it meant Cirilla would be okay.

She trusted Geralt, trusted him to help them survive, to help them live and find a purpose. Now she was alone, far from them all. And he did not even know if she was safe.

Andromeda was an enigma, a presence so addicting he felt his skin crawl at the realisation he had been so far apart from her for so long. His heart would burn as it longed for her. His mind was plagued with the sound of her voice, his skin imprinted with the sensation of her hands brushing against his skin as she took care to treat his wounds after every battle, his eyes tracing her silohuette in the shadows as he forced himself to sleep at night.

Months.

Months of searching and no success.

Geralt was laid back in a bed, facing the ceiling as he laid an arm over his forehead and scrunched his eyes closed in defeat. He couldn't get her out of his head, her eyes burned into his mind, and sometimes, in the dead of night, he would pretend she was watching him as he slept. Ever a watchful eye, a caring friend, a loving mate.

Perhaps that was why this situation took him by surprise.

He smelt it - a deep and honeyed scent of orange blossoms and jasmine tickling his senses as he leapt up from his place on the bed.

He inhaled deeply, a wild beast searching for its prey. His shoulders tensed as he leapt up to replace his sword and dagger into their respective belts, hands rummaging through blankets and over furniture to collect trinkets and vials he had thrown carelessly across the tavern room as he lost himself in his grief.

Geralt marched through the tavern he had taken residence in, deaf to the cries of indignation of drunk patrons he barged past and eyes seeking a familiar head of hair in the crowd.

His senses led him far from the tavern he hoped Andromeda was hidden in, pushing him to march towards the outskirts of town.

Geralt had never found himself fearing for his life, never had he faced a creature he could not slay and never had he doubted the skills instilled upon him from infancy.

Yet, in this moment now, as he tore through the wilderness in the careful embrace of the night sky, the air thick with fear and horror as the smell he had been craving - the smell he had been fantasising about for months - made itself known to him and grew stronger as he drew closer, he felt a shred of fear wedge itself in his heart.

He could hear a stuttered heartbeat, ragged breaths, and a cloying scent of terror threatened to burn his eyes.

He dared not speak a word, fearful even the faintest whisper would turn his trail into phantom sensations, and he would be following nothing but an echo. A ghost of the woman he had lost.

Still, his shoulders were raised in determination, eyes narrow as he searched through overgrown shrubs and low-hanging trees, head on a swivel as the hand on his right side twitched, ready to reach for his sword if a threat made itself known.

"Please..."

It was a quiet whisper, a pleading whine. And that's how Geralt knew.

It was her.

He would recognise the melody of her voice anywhere. He could be holding onto this life by a thread, and her voice would the only thing he wanted. Needed.

Geralt broke out into a sprint, hand drawing out his sword as he feared what creature could have her so subdued by fear.

He came to a stumbled halt as he took the scene in ahead of his, hand tightening around his sword as a threatening sneer painted itself across his face.

There she stood with her back to him, she was dressed in leathers. They looked clean, neat. Next to her foot laid a single dagger, the hand that seemingly held it before had blood flowing from it, ruby pearls cascading down her fingers to seep into the damp soil.

The sight reminded him of the night with the ghouls, of how he had bled similarly before running to find her, only to miss her by a hair's breadth.

He had found her now.

But she was not safe.

Her back was to him, but he could see how her figure trembled in fear, a calloused hand twisted itself into the careless waves her hair had been flowing down her back in, a knife held to her throat as a man threatened her with a painful death, and forsaken torture.

It didn't take long for the pair to realise someone had joined them, and as the assailant took in Geralt's presence he twisted the girl harshly so her back was against his chest, the hand in her hair tugging her head back so he could press the knife harshly into her skin.

"Geralt."

Andromeda's eyes were wide, pupils blown by fear and mouth parted in surprise.

She looked... good.

She looked healthy, and had it not been for this moment he had stumbled upon, Geralt was sure she had been safe too. The hollows of her face had filled slightly over the months she had been gone. Her eyes no longer held an ache and were not weighed down by pain and longing. As though she had been eating properly, and was able to sleep through the night despite her fear of the dark.

"Rory..."

Her face shuttered at his whisper, drawing in a sharp breath as she ignored the threat of the man behind her and focused on taking in the man who stood in front of her.

Despite all his betrayals, all the hurt he had inflicted upon her, despite his harsh words and unprovoked actions, she found a weight lifting from her shoulders at the sight of him.

He looked ragged, as though he was worn down and tired. And some part of Andromeda was selfish enough to hope she was the cause of it.

A wince escaped her as the man pressed the knife harder against her throat, feeling a warm trickle down her throat, pooling at the hollow at the base of her nack.

A growl ripped from Geralt's throat, "let her go and I'll give you a quick death."

The man scoffed, "an' why should I do that? She's mine, I found 'er first. Get lost Witcher, we don' want y'r lot 'round here."

Geralt huffed in amusement, taking a step foward as he raised his sword higher in a show of promise, "what do you want? If not a quick death."

The man's eyes narrowed, his dark, bushy brows drawing into a frown and peeking past the strands of ebony hair that fell over his face in rivulets. His face had paled when he caught sight of the Witcher, but now it began to redden at the reminder of the cause of his indignation, "this bitch stole me silver. I need repayment, so 'm here t' get it. Been huntin' her down for weeks now, quick little brat, this one. Think I deserve a reward."

A leering smile stretched across the face of the gaunt man, the hand in her hair leaving to wrap around her waist as he pulled her further into him, pressing and feeling.

Andromeda screwed her eyes shut as nausea threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Geralt twisted his head, his heart roaring at the scent of fear that rolled off her in crashing waves, at her quiet whimpers and horrified glances.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a hefty bag he had been rewarded for a recent job he had been successful in. He threw it at the man's feet, wary to give into violence so soon, afraid his need for vengeance would only cause Andromeda more hurt.

No, first she had to be safe. Then he would do what his mind was screaming for him to when he first came upon the scene.

The man looked towards the bag in amusement, eyes dragging their way back to Geralt - "no amount of silvers goin' t' gimme what I need."

"And what do you need?"

"Her. Or her bits at least."

Geralt's heart thudded at his lecherous smile and travelling hands, face grim as he tried to think of a way to help without risking Andromeda getting hurt.

Andromeda spoke then, "then you'll let me go?"

Her voice was quiet, tainted with despair and dread. Geralt screwed his face up in anger and cut off the man with conviction before he spoke, "you won't touch her."

The man laughed unashamedly, head thrown back in glee, "already am Witcher, see."

His hands roved over her, dragging harshly from her waist to her stomach, spanning up to the valley of her breasts and tracing her throat before winding itself in her hair once more. All the while, Andromeda screwed her eyes shut, her stomach roiling in protest at the feel of his touch.

"It's okay, Geralt," there was a whisper of defeat as she looked at him, her eyes glittered as they pooled with expectant tears. The situation was too precarious, too unpredictable. She knew Geralt couldn't help her without risking her life, and a part of her felt envious when she thought of how he had succeeded in helping those who had been in much more vile situations than her own. A traiterous voice told her that if Yennefer had been in her place, he would have fought endlessly for her safety without hesitation.

But Andromeda was not Yennefer, and she didn't hold the same place in Geralt's heart that Yennefer did.

"It's okay," she repeated, her voice stronger despite the fact she felt herself breaking as the seconds passed. She would accept the fate ahead of her. She would pray for her survival and beg the Fates to allow her the strength to move past it and be better.

But if she were to succumb to death, she would walk into its welcoming arms with a relieved smile, "it's okay, Geralt," tears flowed down her face freely now, shoulders lowering as she forced her body to relax, "you'll be free." To love Yennefer, to be with her without guilt.

She had expected to find silent relief in his eyes or a sigh of understanding to escape past his lips. Instead, her words seemed to anger him. Her acceptance of her fate, her willingness to give her body and free will away simply because she thought he would be happy, ignited a blazing fire within him.

Geralt would fight endlessly for Yennefer. But he would wage wars for Andromeda. He would level cities and burn worlds in her name.

It was Andromeda who he pined for all these years, Andromeda whom he wished to pick but felt undeserving of, Andromeda who he was tied to so intricately that he revered the bonds which attached them with unadulterated adoration.

It was Andromeda. It has always been Andromeda.

Geralt nodded, his face expressionless as he lowered the arm holding his sword. The assailant fould himself straightening in surprise, baffled at how the Witcher had given up so easily.

Andromeda's face crumpled in a mixture of understanding and disbelief. It was what she had expected. She wasn't Yennefer.

Geralt lowered himself to the ground, bending at the knees as he placatingly spoke, "I'm going to put the sword down, then I will leave."

The man didn't understand why Geralt would discard his sword before leaving. If Geralt accepted the assailant's terms, then he could leave freely with his weapon if he so wished.

He opened his mouth to speak as such, but a vicious roar escaped Geralt, one filled with grief and guilt and anger as his left hand was thrown forward from behind his back and a knife lodged into the dark-haired man's kneecap.

The assailant let out a wail of agony, falling to the ground harshly. He hadn't expected the pain, hadn't expected Geralt's harsh attack, so the knife fell freely from his hands without causing Andromeda much hurt.

She fell to the floor with the injured man, but before he could reach for her once more she leapt away from him, eyes wide in fear as she saw how he frothed at the mouth and spewed off slurs at both herself and Geralt.

Geralt didn't wait a moment longer, leaving his sword behind he lauched himself at the man. Geralt burned with rage, every scent and every sound a reminder of how close he was to losing Andromeda all over again.

He continued wailing on the man, every hit harder than the last, and his anger did not wane until the man took a rattled last breath. It was then he looked up to find Andromeda staring at him in stunned silence.

Andromeda should have been wary and fearful of Geralt. Her heart should have trembled as he stood to step over the crumpled corpse to stalk his way to her. She should have trembled and cried at the sight of him inhaling deeply, refamiliarising himself with her scent and the overwhelming bounds of emotions that spurted from her uncontrollably.

But as she reached towards his hand that was stretched towards her, palm up - staring at his raw and bleeding knuckles, at the spurts of blood which speckled across his face and the greasy strands of hair that fell across his face - she found herself bubbling in desire.

He had done this for her. To protect her.

She glanced towards the motionless body behind Geralt, hand finally enclosed in his own as he tugged her up to stand - he had killed for her.

He had killed for her.

Andromeda didn't have a chance to look into his eyes, to see the passion and fear and love that drowned his amber eyes. Instead, Geralt drew her into a shaky embrace, as though he couldn't believe she was standing in front of him, as though he couldn't believe he had found her.

When Andromeda didn't rear back from his gentle touches, he tightened his arms around her as a shuddered breath escaped him. He buried his head in the tresses of her hair, finding solace in the familiar scent of orange blossoms and jasmine as he i haled deeply. He tried commiting her form to memory, tried to memorise how her body melded into his own, how it fit against him.

But Geralt could spend an eternity with her in his embrace, and he would still yearn to hold her for longer.

Geralt stiffened at the feeling of a light caress against his back, it was a hesitant touch he soon recognised as Andromeda returning his embrace.

He could no longer help it.

Geralt of Rivia. Butcher of Blaviken. The White Wolf. The Witcher.

All of these twisted parts of his were warriors, stripped of emotions and imbued with skills and tactics.

Yet, in her warm embrace, his eyes began to burn as traiterous tears escaped.

Andromeda closed her eyes in quiet relief at the feeling of his tears against her head, hoping to cherish the moment before Geralt of Rivia replaced her Geralt.

Before Yennefer's Geralt took the place of her own.

"Come back."

Yennefer's Geralt never did come back, and Andromeda found herself wondering if he had even existed in the first play or if he had simply been a mask to hide Geralt's deeper feelings.

His voice was raw, it was quiet. Almost child-like, tinged with desperation as he held onto her tighter, fearful she would slip between his fingers once more.

"Come back, Rory," he pleaded, "come back to me. Come back with me."

She shut her eyes in agony, knowing every inch of her being begged her to say yes. But she knew better, after all this time, she knew better than to blindly say yes.

The truth was, over the last few months that she had been gone, there were no burning sensations that plagued her. There was no sign through her bond to Geralt displaying that he was laying with another.

Not even a burn of the lips like the one she had felt so many moons ago.

But she knew better.

"Do you love her?"

She had to know. She couldn't leave him without knowing, and she couldn't stay when she thought he did.

Geralt pulled back, hands reaching to cup her face as he pulled her face up to look at him, his eyes earnest as he spoke, "I did. Perhaps a part of me still does."

He saw the way her face crumpled at that, but he forced himself to continue, "but it's a thing of the past. I picked you. I pick you. I have every day since that night by the fire"

A harsh laugh escaped her as she tried to pull away unsuccessfully, "then why did you kiss her that night?"

He closed his eyes as he was overcome with guilt, "I didn't do it because I love her. I told her I wanted you, I needed you. She wanted to say goodbye. And it was wrong of me, I know, and I am so sorry, little one. But it is over, never to happen again."

"How can I believe you? You lied to me once already."

Her words were spoken defeatedly, but it caused determination to rise in Geralt. He brought a hand to reach for her own, placing her palm against his chest, against his heart - "ask me."

She looked at him in confusion, a small frown tugging at her lips, "what?"

"Ask me."

She knew what he meant, of course she did and she found herself breaking into a sweat as she tried to string her words together.

"Do- do you love me, Geralt?"

"Only you, only ever you." Andromeda could feel his thudding heart, the way it beat against its cage as he confessed the truth after so long, begging to bare himself to the girl. To show all his scars and faults, and plead with her to accept him and love him as he is.

She found her own heart began to beat in sync.

"It's only ever been you, Rory. You're all I ever want," he leaned closer to her, nose brushing against her own as his breath fanned over her mouth, the sensation causing blood to rush and tint her face a darkened pink. "I love you," the whispered confession came out at a rushing pace. He began echoing his words as he teetered between kissing her or letting her go.

Thankfully, heart satiated by the confession, spirits reignited, and doubts diminished, she looked at Geralt with eyes full of adoration. Her hands skimmed up the leathers of his arm, carressing over his broad shoulders before tickling up his neck as they took their place at the edge of his jaw, close enough to tug a few strands of hair as she dragged him closer.

Her tongue flicked out her mouth, lightly tracing the shape of his lips only a breath away, every accidental brush against his lips caused Geralt to flush red until his impatience got the better of him, "kiss me."

The demand was fulfilled with vigour as Andromeda soared up on her toes as Geralt leaned down. They met with a soft kiss, their lips gliding against each other as hesitance melted into passion, and they began to pour eons' worth of unreminisced desires into a single kiss.

The kiss caused their souls to brighten, a pleasurable burn racing through their body as the claim Geralt had made all those years ago sang harmoniously at their union.

Andromeda wasn't sure how long they had been kissing, but when she pulled back to gasp for air she found herself tucking back some loose strands of hair behind his ear, a shy smile bracing her face as she confessed, "I love you too."

"Come home, little love."

Home was where her heart lived, with her family. With a grumpy Witcher, a runaway princess, and a boisterous bard.

"Take me home, Geralt. Take me whever you go."

They stood there for some time, their heads leaning against one another, eyes closed as they basked in each other's presence.

Andromeda's hand found its way back to Geralt's chest, finding solace in the racing beats of his heart.

Geralt's hands had never left Andromeda's face, absentmindedly tracing the contours of her face, following every blemish and scar that graced her skin.

Soon night turned into dawn, and they looked at each other with renewed vigour in the golden light, drinking in the site of each other hungrily.

Geralt had found Andromeda.

Andromeda had found Geralt.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

#geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #cirilla of cintra #princess cirilla #cirilla of vengerberg #witcher cirilla #the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier

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icefrye19 · 6 months

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𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐂𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐰𝐫 𝐃𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐫𝐲𝐧 𝐚𝐞𝐩 𝐂𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡

❝ It was said the Dark Knight felled in love with the Princess at first sight, the minute he laid eyes on her his entire world had changed. For the first time, his loyalties had shifted, his entire life he had been loyal to his emepror that all changed when he meet Princess Emiliana Fiona Adalia Riannon. And, with that newfound love would have serve consequences for he would have to choose between his loyalties or love. On the other hand, Princess Emiliana hated the Black Night and wanted nothing more to see him dead, but was that really want she wanted or was it just a fluke that was a question that remained unsolved. ❝

❝ Do you love him. ❝

❝ Yes, I wish I didn’t but I do and I hate myself for loving that monster. ❝

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velvetcloxds · 1 year

Note

in love with you- send me a character and an au scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Can I please ask for a Tangled!AU for Geralt of Rivia + Princess!Reader, please? Thank you!

RUFFIENS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 0.8k words

warnings: reader having very long hair, geralt being a grumpy little simp

Geralt knew the feeling of frustration well, an annoyance to the point of murder, that nagging tug to his brain that had his fist shaking around his glass and his eyes burning- this time, however, the feeling was different, clouded, as annoyed as he was, he was also sort of awed, vividly aware of the fact that he didn't look away from you for even a second as you walked about the drunken witchers with a smile bright enough to light up all of Kaer Morhen despite the darkness that loomed its halls. You were hardly the threatening kind, in fact, he was sure he could quite easily force the information you promised right out of you without much, if any hassle, but when he saw you or rather saved you from the tower your mother had kept you in, he caved into taking you to see the floating lights you'd very adamantly demanded to see.

He questioned your reasoning when you so senselessly considered him a trustworthy traveling companion, it spoke of ignorance and naivety, evidence of being robbed from the company of other humans or living beings for that matter since he was yet to determine what or who you really were aside for a princess. He brought you to his winter home purely for shock value, needing to pass the stony confines on the way to your destination anyway, so he considered it only fitting to tease you some in the process- he'd not, for even a second, considered that you'd be just as sickeningly sweet in a room full of murderers as you were with just the one, him, of course.

You were currently sat atop one of the bulky wooden tables, fawning over Lambert's curls as he offered you a sip of his drink, he looked up at you much like he would an innocent deer running across his path- conflicted between finding you unmentionable adorable and just a bit too foolish and weak to be around him. He allowed you to drag a hand through his curls, musing about the ways you could braid it for him so it bothered him less, giving him advice about keeping it healthy while gesturing to your own hair that spread down the table onto the floor, comically well-kept despite what might be assumed.

"Las, I shall humour your remedies for keeping the curls at bay, but you're not bringing any leaves near me," he reprimanded and you giggled as you sat back, feet peeking out from the hem of your dress as you folded your legs under you, not at all looking like the princess the witchers were accustomed to, admittedly much more satisfying to be around, to listen to and to talk to- you'd managed to charm a group of men who hated your kind with all their hearts.

Geralt was walking towards you before he even knew it, reaching out to support your back when you leaned back just a tad too far while laughing at Lambert's opinions on the different flowers he'd seen on his hunts, listing all the very many reasons why he despised them. A few hours ago the touch of the fingers spread out over the thinning material would've felt foreign, unknown, but despite how uncharted Geralt's presence was to your existence, his touch was quickly becoming familiar, comfortable regardless of how uncaring it was.

"Careful," he grunted though the sound wasn't nearly as annoyed as he wished it to be, earning a shy smile from your lips as you moved your hair out of place to turn around towards him, looking up at him with those big eyes that were daring to break through his cold exterior. "Wouldn't want you to fall and get injured, might not make it to the stars."

"Floating lights," you reminded, he was almost regretting his mistake when your smile threatened to dip into a frown, shaking his system with nerves for being the reason for it. However, luckily the notion was interrupted by a giant yawn, the motion of you slipping from the table to stand next to him being far too smooth. "And I don't think you'd mind it all that much if you didn't have to take me to see them."

"What makes you think that?" he mused and you swore his eyes were lighter as he spoke, a sense of playfulness behind the golden orbs, but you didn't think of it too much, scared to get your hopes up, instead, you gathered your hair into a big ball in your hands, smiling at the white wolf when he helped you do so.

"Just a suspicion that I have," you shrugged in return and tucked the last few inches of roots under your arm, dreading the process of having to braid the main in the morning, not used to having to do so alone- but before you could make your way to the room Geralt had pointed out as yours, you looked back up at him with a sincere smile, one he noted to be very different from the thousand other smiles you were capable of. "Thank you, Geralt," you breathed and he was notably surprised, a foreign feeling for him, you supposed because he didn't recover from the slip of emotion as quickly as you expected. "I know you're only doing this to get something out of me, but I appreciate it still, so thank you," you leaned up to kiss his cheek, a brisk gesture, hardly long enough for him to react before you were tiredly skipping away from him.

"You need to be careful with that one," Lambert noted, a perfect position to have viewed the whole scene as he looked at his friend with a knowing nod. "A girl like that won't be easy to let go of," he explained and Geralt was frozen, dazed as he looked at the arch you just walked through, frazzled and confused as the feeling of your lips still tingled against his white skin.

"Get rid of," he corrected but he wasn't convinced and neither was Lambert because right before his eyes the witcher in question stood lingering, no doubt listening to your steps, determining if you made it safely to your room, a fool really for thinking you hadn't already thread your way into his heart.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia one shot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #monique's writing events #right where queue left me #tangled au #tangled!reader #princess!reader

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shutuplilith · 8 months

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the witch and her cottage, part 2 - geralt of rivia x reader

the witch and her cottage, part 2

ciri's pov. (takes place after the ending of season 1, episode 8. yennifer exists in this, but not as geralts love interest but as his best friend)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊

As she walks toward us, out of the corner of my eye, my gaze falls sideways to Geralt, who also wears a grin on his lips. "Gera... oh, hello, Roach, what a pleasure to catch sight of you again," she says as her hand gently strokes the nose of Geralt's faithful mare. At that moment, Roach seems to enjoy the tender touch, and I feel an invisible bond forming between the two. After a few precious moments, she gently disengages from Roach and takes a few steps back. She looks to Geralt, "Oh Geralt," she grins, "it's good to see you again as well." A smile plays around his lips as she pulls him into a warm embrace, which he returns without hesitation. As they break free from the embrace, hergaze shifts towards me, her luminous (y/e/c) eyes studying me intently. "Oh, and you must be Ciri; I've heard so much about you," she whisper, her words hitting me like the sound of an ancient spell. I furrow my brow, and inside my head, my thoughts start to dance wildly. My gaze returns to Geralt once more, who meets my look with a faint grin. "I am, by the way, (y/n)," her voice once again captures my attention, pulling me back from the dizzying expanse of thoughts into the here and now. "I am filled with joy to finally meet you."Curiosity overtakes me, and I inquire, "How do you know Geralt?"A mysterious smile graces her lips as she replies, "I’ll tell you this story later. For now, let's make our way inside; it's about to get uncomfortable out here."As if in response to an invisible signal, Geralt and I both turn our gazes sky, which has once again been swallowed by dark clouds. The howling of the wind, previously just a faint whisper, now pierces our ears louder and more menacingly.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x f!reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher oneshot #geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher x you #geralt of rivia x you #roach #the witcher roach #ciri #cirilla of cintra #princess cirilla

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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years

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(The Witcher) Could you make one where you find out your pregnant with Geralts baby and he is in disbelief because he cant have kids you know, but you obviously only have seggs with him. Then you get all sad because he is just silent and you start freaking out. ?? i know its long and you dont have to do it but it was a thought.

First ever Witcher request! This is so exciting!!!! hope you all enjoy it!!!!! I'm only 3/4th through the first book so please understand that I don't know too much yet. Other than the TV show - which I could rant about forever.

Rated PG: Family feels, pregnancy, mothering, panic & anxiety, happy ending!

He lay there looking down at her stomach while she slept. Disbelief washed over him as he grew sure that it was indeed a soft heart beat separate from your own. Ciri was asleep a small ways away, but her heart beat was clearly her own.

A baby. But how? He thought closely over the past month or so. You were by his side the entire time, except for when you stayed at camp as he slaughtered monsters. Never were you left at a Tavern alone, certainly not out of sight long enough to conceive a baby…. Even then if his eyes weren’t on her Ciri was next to her. She never appeared to be assaulted or upset, surely Ciri would have said something. He closed his eyes for a moment chasing those thoughts far from his mind. He would only wake you up if he moved or tensed, you needed your rest more than ever.

Looking over her peaceful face, it only became more obvious. She looked different, a tinge to her skin that seemed unmistakable now. He’d known she’d seemed different, but this was not on his list of possibilities.

A sense of panic started to creep up the back of his neck. She can’t be sleeping on the ground like this, out in the open. He didn't want her to tag along initially. But he needed the help with Ciri, and she’d been too attached to you, leaving you behind would have only caused her further suffering. Everything had changed now. The both of you had someone else to think of, growing in her belly. He would do everything he could to get her to Kaer Morhen. If the baby was his or not, looking down at you sleeping, the anxiety to keep you out of trouble overpowered everything else.

_________________________________________________________________________

Geralt was getty bossy again. Pushing you greater distances, somehow there was a sudden void of monsters to slay leaving him grumpier than ever. He was pensive, deep in thought, and very… bossy.

It was mostly little things, insisting that you travel on Roach, except for the occasional meadow in which you could stretch your legs. He’d spend forty minutes trying to assess the land and area for an optimal sleeping spot. Instead of giving you some privacy with bathing, he wouldn't let you near water if he wasn't next to you. His gaze on your body was always welcome, but you couldn't understand the look in his eyes. A look that was becoming more and more worrisome.

Ciri had spoken to him, wanting to test the new rules he was making up as she always did. Unexpectedly she seemed to agree with him, taking more time to help you out. She seemed burdened by something, and you watched as she felt the need to fuss over you. You felt tired enough to allow it, which made you worry. Did you look as unwell as you felt?

In three days of travel you had covered a distance that normally would have taken a week. Leaving you with two more sleeps till Kaer Morhen.

You felt nauseous, head woozy at times. There was a nervousness that was creeping up on you stemming from his weird behavior. Perhaps he’d changed his mind? Meeting his father figure and the rest of his brothers, maybe it was too big a step. Very few non-witchers had been there, maybe you weren't meant to be one of them. He had to think about what was best for Ciri, had you done something wrong?

The day progressed and you were left to swim in your own thoughts, most of them about being rejected and left on the doorstep. Eventually you stumbled on to the way your body felt. Sore breasts, nausea, and no matter how much water you drank an awful metallic taste in your mouth. You knew what this would normally mean, you’d missed two periods but pushed it out of your mind as it was impossible for Geralt to… Oh. But what if it wasn't.

Or what if it was impossible and you got pregnant without knowing? You’d not been drugged out at any point. No loss of memory. The only time Geralt's eyes weren't on the two of you was when he was killing stuff in the woods, even then Ciri would stay close to your side ready - what about that sketchy bath water at that one traven - could that be it?

What if it was his, but he wouldn't believe you - then he threw you out. What if he did believe you but then the rest of the Witchers didn't and then he threw you out leaving you to brave the cold winter road alone. What if he thought you were a bad mother to Ciri? What if everyone thought you were a bad mother? What if everyone was fine but Ciri resented you?

Gods, you did not have enough money. Not to mention leaving Ciri would cause you tremendous pain, you doubted you’d survive the winter. Then you thought of what was to come, how you would most likely be at it alone, your stomach twisted painfully and your vision swayed.

“Ger-” You whispered before everything went black. Thankfully he has that ridiculous hearing, he caught you holding you tightly. Once he had you settled on a fallen tree, you watched as he scanned the forest. Ciri did the same hand on the hilt of her sword.

The thought of losing them caused your eyes to prickle, you closed your eyes tightly and he steadied you. You rested your forehead against his shoulder. You thought about the humiliation of being sent out of the fortress and decided you’d much rather skip doing the mountain path all together, rather than twice.

“Ciri, give us a moment” She nodded at your words, and you immediately wanted to put on a better face to cure some of the worry weighing on her. She went to take Roach to a stream nearby. Geralt had his eyes on her, so you took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant.” The words flew out of your mouth on a breath of courage. You kept your eyes shut tightly. “It might be something else - I don't know how- I feel - but all I know for sure is something’s off.” You rambled quietly, still too afraid to move.

His grip tightened on you slightly and you both sat there listening to the forest sounds, the soft murmur of Ciri’s voice as she talked to Roach.

He was quiet, very quiet. The nerves were becoming unbearable and tears started to roll down your cheeks. You huffed out a deep breath trying to calm down but it only gave away how broken up you were.

He cradled your face, causing you to finally meet those amber eyes.

“Just breathe, what hurts?” His concern wrapped around you like a warm blanket. His hand rested gently on your stomach.

“I can’t -” You couldn't finish your words, your chest was heaving.

“You can. Just breathe.” He responded calmly. Eventually you managed to calm down, his hands and gaze never leaving you.

“I don't know what to do? I don't know how this -? But when I finally had the thought - I just know - that it’s - I know that it's true.”

“It’s true.” He confirmed with an unreadable facial expression. “I could hear the heartbeat - hence the rush to get back to Kaer Morhen.”

“You knew and didn't say anything!?” You swatted his shoulder without thinking.

“I wanted to get you somewhere safe, so you wouldn't worry.” Finally some emotion in his tone. Empathy radiated off of him, and it made you want to cry again. “I think that glowing hot spring may have been a fertility pool. I can’t think of any other possibility.”

That would explain it well enough. Panic surged through you again and you gripped the leather of his armor the best you could.

“But it’s yours right?” An edge of panic was back in your voice.

“Heart beat is slightly off, so I'd assume so.” He said with a faint smile on his face, that quickly disappeared. “If you're well enough I want to keep moving.”

“You're still taking me there?”

“Of course. It’s not the most comfortable, however it is the safest place. Vesemir will know what to do.” He paused for a moment. “ I don’t have anywhere else to take you. I’ll send word for Triss and Yen when we arrive. If it's too unbearable they can help take you elsewhere if you prefer.”

You thought about his words. He wanted you there. He wanted you. He thought his family would want you too. You burst into tears, shouting when he tried to pull away.

“It’s not as bad as the legends make it out to be” He tried to comfort you.

“No- It’s - Gods.” You took a deep breath. “I thought you’d be embarrassed or ashamed. Wouldn’t want to take me.”

“No.” He answered simply.

“I don't care where I am as long as I’m next to you.” You hugged him as tightly as you could. “Plus the only bad thing I’ve heard about is the rats?”

He let out a hum.

______________________________

It was a fertility pool. Something Yen was beyond happy to learn about. Her and Triss came to help you with the pregnancy as it was very unusual.

Kaer Mohen was worse than the legends, but also far far better at the same time. Lots of rats, two supernatural incidents, and it was very very cold. After the first few weeks, the girls arrived bringing a great deal of goods Geralt had requested.

They made a room for you that was beyond beautiful and warm. The first night you slept in it you realized the extent they went through to make it comfortable was due to the fact that this would be your room for much longer than a winter.

Nine months flew by as you were surrounded by your new family. You insisted on cooking as you couldn’t train with Ciri and sitting around was unbearable.

You still couldn’t believe how lucky you were. Everyone here had dropped everything to help you, Ciri was over the moon initially. Assuring you and Geralt that she’ll help and is good with babies. It didn't take a mind reader to know that she was trying to put on a brave face, scared that maybe she’d be replaced.

She’d rest her head on your lap after supper telling the large bump all sorts of things. You were always amazed at how young she was and yet she knew so much more than you did about things. She’d go on about all the history and lesson’s she’d learnt as a child. You’d let her lay there, running her hands through her hair hoping it would reassure her, she’d never spoken this much in the time that you’d been with her.

“If I tell her everything now, when she’s out in the world it will come easier to her. That’s what my grandma did for me when I was in my mum” She finally said one night when Eskel asked her why she was telling you all this stuff.

“Ah, and it's a girl then, eh?” Vesamir asked.

“Of course! It’s going to be exhausting being the only girl witcher.” He let out a hearty laugh and she stuck her tongue out at him.

You wanted to laugh but the thought of having your baby out there, both your babies out there fighting like he did - you looked to Geralt to find your feelings in his face.

“She’ll be in great hands.” Eskel said and you were happy to hear her go back to talking about the different types of desert plants and how they impact a significant portion of some forgein economy.

_____

You were prepping the stew for dinner when your water broke. Eight long hours later you had brought a baby into the world.

She suckled on to your breast, looking like an old man covered in tomato sauce and yet she was the most beautiful thing you’d laid eyes on. White peach fuzz and golden amber eyes stared up at you confirming that she was indeed her fathers daughter. Geralt looked an interesting mix of exhausted, terrified, and adoration.

Once the after birth was sorted Triss had a healing bath made for you. You offered the sleeping bundle to Geralt, but he shook his head. Causing your heart to stop.

“She’s too small.” He whispered. You opened his arm and placed the small bundle there showing him how to hold her. “I’ve never had to hold a baby before.” he said softly, tracing his finger across the top of her tiny forehead.

“You need to get into the bath.” Triss helped you stand up. “And you need to let Cirilla in here before she chews her arm off.”

“She’s not slept?!” you exclaimed.

“That's his problem.” She nodded to Geralt before helping you to the door. Ciri was there in the hallway ready to pounce on you.

“Are you alright! Where's the baby!”

“I’m fine, love. Your baby sister’s in with your father. Go help him till I'm back.” You watched her face light up as she moved past you into the room.

After the world's nicest bath you moved into the bedroom to see Geralt watching the baby in one arm with Ciri tucked under his other arm. Both asleep.

“I see you all survived.” You said with a smile, you took the babe from him taking her place under his arm. He watched as you fed her again.

You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, you thought of how scared he looked during the whole process. Watched as you fought your own battle, unable to help in any way.

“Thank you.” You said softly as your eyes were getting heavy. He chuckled softly.

“Thank you doesn’t begin to cover the amount of gratitude I feel towards you.” He whispered. You tilted your head back and felt his lips move against yours, sometimes words aren't necessary.

The love he felt for his family was always evident in everything he did.

Tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt

#the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia comfort #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivera #henry cavill fic #princess cirilla #witcher ciri

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loverrgirll21 · 1 year

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imagine being a princess and meeting geralt for the first time

879 words; warnings: none

“Your highness, may I have this dance?”

You internally rolled your eyes, but nodded with a smile. It was not as if you could reject the boy flat out, although you desperately wanted to. Your father would have your head for the shame that would bring to him.

You let the boy grab your hand and lead you onto the dance floor. You got in formation just as the next dance was starting. Just your luck, it was a slow song, meaning you’d actually have to talk to the boy.

He said his name was William and he was the son of one of your kingdom’s nobles. He complimented you on your hair, your gown, and your dancing, but you knew it was all an act to get to your throne and be king of your small kingdom.

As you moved around the room, you caught a glimpse of silver. There was a tall man with silver hair leaning against a pillar, scanning the room with his amber eyes. They connected with yours, and you held his gaze for a moment before facing William again. Blessedly, the song ended and you offered a polite curtsy before excusing yourself. You felt the man’s eyes on you as you went to the drinks table and got offered a glass of punch. When you looked back in his direction, you noticed that he was gone.

Trying to hide your disappointment at the stranger leaving so soon, without even introducing himself to you, you went to your parents and asked if you could be excused as you were tired. Your father, too drunk to care, waved his hand at you lazily and you took it as your cue to leave. You slipped out of the ballroom and into the hallway, your light pink gown sweeping the floor behind you.

Instead of heading directly to your room, you headed to one of the balconies that you often frequented. Everyone in the kingdom was at the ball, so there would be no one outside to see you.

As you approached the balcony, you saw him again; the silver-haired man. He was wearing black armor and you saw that he had a sword attached to his back. You tried to be sneaky, slipping behind a wall to watch him, but unbeknownst to you, the man had sensed your presence.

“No need to hide from me, princess.” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “I know you’re there.”

Sheepishly, you walked out from behind the wall and approached the man. You stood about two feet from him and leaned with your back against the banister. It was then you noticed the pendent dangling in front of his chest.

“Witcher.” you murmured.

“Geralt. Geralt of Rivia.” the man said, looking at you as if he expected there to be a reaction. When you didn’t react, he looked back towards the forest, mildly surprised.

“What are you doing out here, princess?” he asked. You studied him for a little longer, your eyes trailing from the scars on his face to the callouses of his hands.

“Couldn’t stand the crowd.” you replied simply. “Too many suitors who care more about a chunk of metal than me.”

Geralt smirked and looked at you. It was his turn to observe you now; his amber eyes ran down your body, focusing on how your dress seemed to create a cloud behind you. You felt his gaze on you and your cheeks heated up.

“Men want you for your crown, but what do you want in a man?” he asked you. You were slightly taken aback; no one had ever asked you what you wanted.

After some hesitation, you responded. “I want a man who loves me for me. Who is like a best friend, but also a protector. I want adventure and romance, and even a little danger.” you paused. “But that is too much to ask in my position.”

Geralt moved slightly closer to you and you looked up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think that’s too much at all.” he said so softly, it almost sounded like a whisper. You closed the distance between you two until there were barely five inches between your chests. As you leaned in to seal the gap, a warning bell rang. You sprang away from him, clutching your heart.

“What is going on?” you asked, panting. You heard shouts from the guards as they raced madly around the palace, spears pointing forward. You looked at Geralt, who looked tense.

“Princess, go straight to your room and lock your door. I do not know what is going on, but it isn’t good.” Geralt ordered you. You were still a little shocked at what almost happened, but as Geralt headed out of the balcony, he suddenly turned around and quickly approached you.

Before you could even think, he wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. You pushed your fingers into his coarse hair and tugged, which made him grunt. The kiss only lasted mere moments, however, before he pulled away with a roguish grin and ran towards the chaos.

You gripped the edge of the banister tightly as you tried to catch your breathe. What the hell just happened?

#the witcher #the witcher imagines #geralt of rivia #princess!reader #geralt x reader

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thesleepy1 · 1 year

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It's Raining Witchers

A/N: I currently have eight requests on my list. I am slowly making my way through them. I’m not sure if I will do them in order or if I will write them depending on my mood. A couple of them are smut requests so I’m not sure when I’ll get those out either. This fic was anon requested.

Pairings: Geralt x Reader

Summary: You weren’t showing off when you scaled up on top of buildings through your own wit and muscles. It was a necessity you had learned early on in life. Most people just found it unusual. Geralt and Ciri were not most people.

Or, “Geralt and Ciri's reaction to reader who knows how to parkour.”

Word count: 339

Warnings: none

Geralt

“Where did you learn how to climb walls?” Geralt teased from the ground as he watched you scale up the castle walls with nothing but your own limbs. “Is it magic?” It was dark out and neither of you wanted to be seen. Your voices were hushed despite the distance between you.

You scoffed down at him from a gargoyle’s ledge. “It’s no magic, Geralt. It just takes practice.”

Geralt gave you an unconvinced look and a smile that would have most running for the hills. You personally found the expression endearing. “I’ve lived quite a few decades longer than you and I haven’t been able to manage anything like that.”

You sat on the ledge and smiled down at him. “You had me fooled. What with the twirls and swift skips you do while fighting.”

“There’s no magic there,” Geralt began. “Only Vesemir’s constant lectures on proper form.”

Ciri

“Could you teach me how to do that?”

You had leapt from the balcony onto the slanted rooftops in less than three jumps. The wind was brisk and cold this high up on the castle. The sky was endless and not a cloud was in sight. “Geralt would kill me if he found you up here.” The shingles were loose and you almost lost your footing more times than you would like to admit.

Ciri rolled her eyes at your concern and crossed her arms. “That’s only if he finds out. You know you aren’t in trouble unless you get caught.”

“I think your father would have a few choice words about that.” You tried to scold her but your heart wasn’t in it.

“Would you teach me or would you rather I learn on my own?”

You gave her an unamused look. “Would you promise not to tell Geralt?”

Ciri lit up in a smile. “Cross my heart.” She bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. “What do I have to do first?”

“Promise you won’t haunt me if you throw yourself off the balcony.”

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crazypaperwasteland · 2 years

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How Geralt Lost Her-Part One

Summary: Geralt unknowingly hurt the person he loved most, leaving her feeling unwanted and forgotten by the people she cared for. Will he ever be able to make it up to her? Or will she leave him and never come back?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Just a lot of sadness and Yennefer being a bitch (no hate to her, I love her. But in this story, she’s a bitch)

A/N: Just as a reminder, up until this post reaches 50 likes, Part Two will not be posted. Again, sorry about that.

Masterlist

Part 2 (Link will be attached when it’s posted)

I could see that she had Geralt under her spell from the moment he saw her. It was fine, I knew what she meant to him, I knew that he loved her. He’d told me as much, he told me that she was dead too, and that a part of him would always love her. I was fine with that. The one thing I wasn’t fine with was the way that Yennefer looked at Ciri, I could tell that Ciri was uncomfortable as well.

It made my blood boil. I could also see how Yennefer looked at me when Geralt turned his back, she tried to hide it, but she saw me as a threat. She’d been teaching Ciri witchcraft, in ways that I couldn’t teach her, and it seemed that she believed she was superior to me because she spent a lot of time with Ciri. I knew about Yennefer’s infertility, I knew that she had spent decades trying to have a child of her own. I also knew that she saw Ciri as a surrogate for that loss, that void she felt inside of herself.

For weeks, we’d been on the road, after Ciri’s little spill at Kaer Morhen. After learning about Yennefer’s betrayal, Geralt had been giving her the cold shoulder and really only talking to me, Ciri and Jaskier, albeit very little. Geralt seemed to think that he could just come running back to me when his first relationship was at odds with him. I, however, was not content with that little arrangement. So I would sleep near Jaskier, if Geralt set his bedroll down next to mine, I would move away from him and go over to Ciri. The poor man looked so confused. But I was not a toy, I wouldn’t play that game.

I never intended to let anyone in on the way I was feeling. Betrayed, forgotten, lonely, upset. However, eventually those things boil over. Especially with me. Yennefer was skilled in magic, there was no doubt about it. She’d singlehandedly turned the tide at Sodden with all of her flames and had not lost her life. But I was different. Once upon a time, I’d been at Aretuza, long after she’d left.

The mages of Aretuza were fearful of her because of how she’d weaponized flames at Sodden, but when they heard of my abilities, they were even more terrified. There would always be mages who were unlike others, who had greater limits than average humans. I was one of them. A woman with an affinity for fire, I used it everyday, I felt it rising up my throat like bile everyday, fighting to shove it back down everyday.

This day was one of the harder ones. Yennefer had put Ciri in danger. We had come across a monster, another monster after Ciri. While Geralt was incapacitated, Yennefer had tried to portal. But her magic was still…finicky. She had taken Ciri in her arms, trying to protect her, when in reality she’d opened a portal right into the creature’s path and nearly gotten Ciri snatched up into its jaws.

It took a split second for me to burn it into a crisp from the inside out. The work wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Yennefer had put Ciri in danger again. And I felt the familiar burn of fire in my stomach, rising up my throat as if I could spew it at her like my poisonous words.

Ciri had gone to check on Geralt, who was unconscious after being thrown into a tree and hitting his head, Jaskier went with her. “Do you realize that Ciri could have died just then?”

Yennefer glared at me while rubbing her arms, “yes.”

“She would have died all because of your mistake,” I knew Yennefer felt guilty, I could tell, but everything I’d been feeling was coming out now. The hatred I had for her ran deep, because she thought that she could steal everything from me. My best friend, my lover, my child.

“You think I don’t know that?” Yennefer snapped, her eyes blazing.

I felt heat rising in my clenched fists, “if you had simply left it to me, that thing would have been a pile of ashes in a moment. Instead you left me to knock you and Ciri out of the way because you decided you wanted to portal. You decided you wanted to test out your shaky magic when Ciri’s life was in danger!”

“I was trying to protect her!”

“No, you were trying to play house,” I shouted back, stepping up until there was no space between us. “Like you’ve been doing ever since you got here. Happy little family. Mother, father, daughter. With you as the dutiful wife.”

“That’s what this is about?” Yennefer laughed, “you’re worried that I’m going to take your place?”

“No, I want to make sure you understand some things.” I sneered, I grabbed her arms, she hissed as steam rose from between her skin and mine, my hands burned right through the fabric of her sleeves. Her eyes were frantic with mine at the pain I knew she was in. “I don’t give a shit if you buddy up with Jaskier, I couldn’t care less if Geralt chooses you over me. But let’s get one thing clear, Ciri is not your child. You can get close to her, you can teach her, you can love her, but she is not yours. She’s mine. And if you put her in danger one more time, I swear to the gods that I will burn you alive, you spiteful bitch.” I shoved her away and stormed off, twigs snapping under my boots.

I sat on a cliff edge for hours, my feet dangling off. How many times had I considered jumping off of a cliff since Yennefer returned? Three times. Once, when she first came back, I saw how Geralt looked at her. He looked at her like he loved her, he looked at her the way he looked at me before she came back into the picture. The second time was when Jaskier recounted her as his friend and slipped an arm around her, that wasn’t what did it. It was that she looked at me and smirked when he said it. And then the third time was when I heard her and Geralt speaking in hushed whispers while we were staying at an inn one night. I heard Yennefer giggling in delight and speaking in a sultry voice.

All I had left was Ciri, she was the only one that I hadn’t lost, that didn’t entertain Yennefer’s desire for the perfect family. I recalled what my father told me when he found out about my gifts. “You will always be alone. You are extraordinary, but you are also a wrecking ball. Everything you touch, you ruin. You aren’t worth the pain, and one day everyone you care about will realize it too.” For decades that echoed in my head, those words.

I felt tears slip down my cheeks, for a second I thought it was beginning to rain, but then I realized that it was just me. My lips trembled as I picked up a rock and chucked it off the cliffside, letting out a wail that I hoped no one could hear.

Alas, I never got that lucky. In fact, my entire life had just been a series of bad luck. A series I thought ended when I met Geralt and Jaskier, when I met Ciri. Turns out that it was only just beginning.

“Is this why you haven’t been speaking to me?” I heard Geralt ask in his usual gravelly tone, only this time it was softer, as if he was afraid to startle me. “I have no idea why you would think I’d leave-”

“You love her, Geralt,” I cut in, “I don’t need anyone to tell me that what I’m feeling is unjustified, I don’t need anyone to tell me that I’m crazy. You love her. You’re cross with her at the moment, but the moment you accept her apology you two will be all cozied up to one another. In fact, you probably already are.”

Geralt was silent for a long moment, “me and Yennefer are done, (Y/N). I made that very clear to her.” I heard his boots moving on the gravelly rock before he sat down next to me. “I love you-”

“You only love me because you can’t have her, Geralt,” I turned to look at him. He seemed to jump back at the sight of my tear stained face. “I am no one’s second choice. All I have ever done is help other people, all I’ve ever done is think of everyone else, put other people first. And yet no one ever does the same for me.” I stood up and started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my hand before I could get very far.

“You are not my second choice,” Geralt tugged me towards him until I looked at him again. “You should have just told me-”

“And what?” I shoved him away from me, “you would have told Yennefer to leave? You would have “listened” to what I had to say? Like you’re doing now?” I laughed, despair seizing me.

“I am listening.”

“No, you’re not. You’re trying to make it seem like I am at fault. You wouldn’t have listened, because you are unwilling to see the pain I’m in, the pain that I have been in, because you also know, deep down, that you are the cause.” Geralt lowered his head, and I knew I was right.

“Then explain it to me, explain so I can understand, because I truly don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” Geralt’s voice was pleading.

I huffed a laugh, “it’s simple. She has her claws sunk so deep into your heart that you are blinded to any wrongdoing on her part. You have not seen the way she has looked at me or treated me, because you’d rather not see it.”

“How has she done wrong to you, (Y/N)?” Geralt snapped at me, “what exactly has she done to make you hate her so?” His tone was so…mocking that I flinched slightly.

I felt myself choke on my tears, “this, Geralt.” I gestured between me and him, “she is determined to destroy everything that I perceive as mine.”

“No, she isn’t!”

I let the tears in my eyes fall, my legs felt wobbly beneath me, I saw guilt flash on his face at the sight, but I cast that observation aside. “Fine, Geralt. I’m done….I’m just…I’m done.” I took a step back away from him, “she wins. You’re hers, Ciri is hers, Jaskier is hers. I’m done.” I threw my hands up in defeat and turned my back on him, and I left. I left it all behind, Geralt, Yennefer, Jaskier and Ciri. I left it all behind because I knew if I stayed, it would eventually kill me. So with teary eyes and an aching heart, I walked away from the love of my life, my child, and my best friend.

#jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt angst #the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer #cirilla #princess cirilla #ciri #ciri x geralt #rivia #geralt fluff #fluff #angst #sadness #aretuza #kaer morhen

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ramen-flavored · 2 years

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Guess I’m not watching season 4 ….

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cas-kingdom · 2 years

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For Eskel

Read the OC version of this fic here.

A/N: After season 2, I intended on writing many Witcher fics to further accommodate Akela (reader) in the universe you’ve all helped me create since season 1. Unfortunately, my writing hit a bit of a bad spell and those fics are still very much WIPs. Alas, they will not be much longer in the making, I promise. For now, please enjoy the first of them. <3

Title: For Eskel

Summary: In the Temple of Melitele, you grieve Eskel.

Words: 3591

You weren’t sure how you found yourself in the hallway of candles. You’d been wandering through endless corridors, neither your mind nor your soul in the right place, until the flicker of orange caught the corner of your eye. You stopped, tiredly observing Nenneke lighting the candles. The priestess offered you a smile but continued in her work, sensing that words would fall short on you tonight.

She was right, of course. You had felt off since the memorable night after you’d returned to Kaer Morhen with Geralt and Ciri. Though the off-ness had lessened somewhat since, you still often felt the brunt of it sneak up behind you, just when you might have believed things were going in the right direction.

Slowly, you lowered yourself to sit against a pillar. You had been to the temple before, seen the candles as you walked back to your room in the evenings, but you’d never paid them much attention. Geralt might have told you what they were for once, something about welcoming travellers in the night, but you looked at them now with an altered though unfamiliar view. The flames comforted you. There were hundreds of them, lighting people’s way through the hallways, providing some semblance of warmth and solace they might not have been able to find elsewhere. Or perhaps that was just you.

You weren’t sure if your exhausted body had succumbed to sleep or you’d simply not been paying attention, but when you picked up the foggy sound of shuffling, and your mind shoved you into painful reality once more, you saw Ciri amongst the candlelight. Nenneke had disappeared further down the corridor, but Ciri was close by, carefully touching wicks to flames.

You rubbed at your eyes and stood to your feet, your stiff joins protesting to the movement after who knew how long you’d been still. Sleep must have taken you, then.

Ciri turned to glance over her shoulder, her hand pausing before it lit its next candle. She stared at you for a moment, then glanced at a ring of white candles surrounding a single unlit one. “You should do Eskel’s,” she quietly suggested.

You felt a pang in your chest, of both pain and fleeting anger that the princess had brought him up when you’d been trying so hard to forget, but you pushed it down, rolling your shoulders to ground yourself. “What?” you muttered, the words raspy.

“His candle.” Ciri suddenly sounded hesitant, but the trait she possessed most was persistence. “They’re what this is all for. We light candles for those we’ve lost.” She tried a half smile as you took slow steps towards her. “This is Roach’s—” Ciri pointed at a candle that looked no different to the next—“and this is for Mousesack. I told you about Mousesack, I think.”

You wouldn’t soon forget that name. Still, you said nothing, stopping by Ciri’s side. You didn’t accept the flaming stick offered towards you, instead reaching out to gently press your fingers to the warm wax of Roach’s candle. The flame seemed to react to your touch, leaning towards you, brightening for a moment before dimming.

“Will you tell me about Eskel?”

“Why do you want to become a witcher?”

Ciri was obviously taken aback by your quick interruption. It appeared as though the words had been waiting on your tongue, ready to divert any conversation you didn’t want to be included in. Ciri blinked, her mouth opening and closing for a moment as she wondered whether repeating her question would ignite the flame…so to speak. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to discuss your question.

Ciri swallowed back the minute yet customary amount of fear she still felt when unsure of what was whirring in your head, and counteracted. “I asked a question first,” she reminded you cautiously.

Your finger was still pressed to the wax of Roach’s candle as Ciri’s eyes flicked between it and your expressionless face. When Ciri noticed your lack of reaction as a drop of melted wax touched your skin, she stepped quickly towards you, moving Roach’s candle behind the others so that your finger remained motionless in the air. You seemed to be frozen, eyebrows furrowed, but you moved when Ciri reached over to brush off the hardened wax and reveal an angry redness beneath. As though you’d only just felt the burning sting, you drew in a sharp breath and clutched your finger to your chest, turning quickly to walk back the way you had come.

Ciri put down the stick she’d been holding and followed you. “Wait, please,” she called. You slowed, your finger still encased in your hand, and finally stopped, just as Ciri licked her lips in preparation for her next words. “If I answer your question, will you answer mine?”

Vesemir had told you that talking about Eskel may help. That each time a witcher died, his brothers and mentor would sit in Kaer Morhen and recount their dearest memories together, so as to remember him in the best light possible. You had steered clear from that, avoiding most mentions of Eskel so you could avoid the relentless vision of him, staring straight at you, just as you—

You drew in a deep breath. Shut your eyes. Dug your nails into your palms. A part of you wanted to say no. You did not want to talk about Eskel tonight. Ever. But another part of you, the important part of you, wanted company more. And perhaps, somewhere deep inside, you did want to talk about Eskel. Just to get it over with, and perhaps find an inkling of that help Vesemir had mentioned.

Without waiting for an answer, Ciri moved to sit on the bottom step of the stairs leading into the corridor. You still had your back turned, but Ciri knew you wouldn’t leave now.

“If you want to know why,” Ciri began, carefully concealed reluctance in her tone, “it’s because I’m tired of not being able to protect myself. I mean—” She shook her head— “What is a human compared to a witcher? Everyone should take the opportunity to become better than they are.”

You came to sit beside her, lowering yourself slowly onto the same step. There was a moment of silence before you spoke. “You think witchers are better than humans?”

You stared at each other, your eyes searching for individual answers. Ciri blinked then, mostly in surprise. “I…” She trailed off, unsure of the words because she was unsure of an answer. In actuality, yes, she did think witchers were better than humans, in more ways than one, and she’d figured it a universal opinion. But looking at you now, noticing the ripples of confusion just surfacing above the waves of pain, she wasn’t sure anymore.

She frowned. “What did Geralt say when you spoke of becoming one?”

Your brows rose and you dipped your head, as though waiting for the princess to say you had merely been joking. When no such words came, you mirrored Ciri’s expression. “A witcher? Ciri…what makes you think Geralt and I ever spoke of such a thing?”

Your question struck a chord within Ciri’s very soul. You were so clearly telling her that you and Geralt had never discussed you becoming a witcher. Ciri wasn’t entirely sure why that shocked her, but she had always figured it to have been a mandatory conversation between you. How had you gone almost twenty years without the subject cropping up at least once? If not for your own betterment, surely for Geralt’s peace of mind when concerning your safety?

“I assumed you…” Ciri’s voice faded as her mind continued to come to term with this fact. For some reason, it caused her own beliefs to swerve, though not significantly enough for her mind to be completely changed. “You didn’t?” she asked. “You’ve been alright with…being less able than those who raised you? More vulnerable? More…dispensable?”

You blew a short breath of what may have been amusement at the younger girl’s innocence through your nose. You looked exhausted, but Ciri could tell that the smile which appeared on your face next was genuine as you turned more towards her. “Ciri,” you said, “I was never raised with those beliefs in mind. Geralt taught me that my humanity is enough, that I never needed to become more than what I am. Have I thought about what life would be like if I were to take the mutagen? Did I ever fleetingly ask to be a witcher when I was a child? Of course. I grew up under the care of countless witchers. It would have been impossible for me not to want to be like them. But as I got older, I realised that the qualities I admired in them, that I wanted for myself, were never a result of the mutagen. Geralt’s determination, Vesemir’s devotion to his men, Lambert’s stupid sense of humour…” You paused abruptly, words dying on your tongue, as though you had wanted to add another name to the list. You took a deep breath and forced the pain back. “They’re all perfectly attainable qualities for any human.”

Ciri shook her head insistently. “But I could do so much more if I just had that—that push!”

“Of course you could.” You lowered your voice, a blatant attempt at reminding Ciri that the temple you were in prided itself on quiet peace and sanctuary. “But that doesn’t mean you should want it. If there is anything I’ve learnt from this world, it’s that humanity is precious. Mortality is precious. Do you know that every witcher you have ever met wish they still had such a thing?” Ciri didn’t reply, the cogs in her brain turning quickly and smoothly. You let it. “The only reason I’d want to be a witcher,” you said, “is so that I can live a long life with the men who mean the most to me. That’s all.”

“But…” Ciri’s shoulders dropped. “I want to be prepared for when they come for me. Because they will come for me.”

“That’s what our family’s for, Ciri.” You reached a hand across, resting it on her knee and squeezing reassuringly. “They won’t let anyone take you, and neither will I.”

Ciri knew that, and she relished in it more than anything. You and Ciri’s relationship had been far from smooth sailing, leaning more towards disastrous than any other word in the Continent’s language. There had been a cacophony of emotion, jealousy reigning more often than not, and such had been the nature of your affiliation until your arrival at Kaer Morhen. It seemed all you had needed to truly feel at home again with Geralt was the comfort of the Keep, and the reminder that loneliness within your family was quite literally impossible. Along with Vesemir’s words of wisdom and encouraging remarks from the other witchers, you had eventually come to the realisation that Ciri was in no way attempting to take Geralt from you. Safe in that knowledge, you had allowed your barriers to break, and an ineffable connection had not hesitated in forming between the both of you. So much so that Ciri knew each word you said to her, about family and protection, was true.

Placing her hand atop yours, Ciri smiled. “I always wished to be like my grandmother,” she admitted. “She was everything I believed a true warrior to be. A true woman. I suppose I presumed you would be the same with Geralt.”

You shrugged lightly. “You aren’t entirely wrong. I look up to Geralt more than I do anyone. I would love to be half the person he is one day. Just not the witcher part.” You felt yourself smiling before you realised you were doing it, and in the less conscious part of your mind, you decided that sitting here with Ciri was significantly lifting your mood. Unwilling to subject yourself fully to that comprehension and become very aware of it to the point that you consciously tried to change it, you opened your mouth to speak again. “Geralt would hate for me to become a witcher. It isn’t a lifestyle anyone would wilfully bestow upon themselves.” Ciri frowned lightly, that innocence on the topic returning once more. You had to remind yourself that though you had grown up around witchers and knew practically all there was to know about them, Ciri’s knowledge came only from the books and stories her grandmother would allow her access to. “He would hate for you to become one, too.”

Ciri nodded slowly, sucking on her teeth. “I gathered that,” she muttered. “What about the others? Vesemir seemed on-board.” She paused. “Eventually.”

You struggled with your answer to that. You knew Lambert despised his mutation. Coën had never been entirely thrilled either. Vesemir was less vocal about his opinions, as a mentor should be, but all the same you did not recognise the man he had been the moment you and Geralt had caught him before the mutagen could enter Ciri’s body.

“Vesemir…” You began slowly, deliberating over each word, deciding whether it was the right one. “Vesemir believes you to be more than human.” It seemed that was the safest bet. It was partly true, after all. “He would never let me take the mutagen, but, in a way, I suppose he…thought you could take it.” You frowned deeply before shaking your head and reasserting yourself in reality. “I don’t know,” you said finally. “Maybe he doesn’t really either. As for the others…I’m sure you’ll understand more as you get to know them.”

Ciri nodded slowly. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and subconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear. “And…Eskel?” The question was extremely uncertain, each movement of her lips preparing to backtrack immediately if she noticed your gaze harden or your body tense. She saw neither of these, but her nerves kicked in either way. “You don’t need to…”

“I told you I would,” you said. You offered a tight-lipped, short-lived smile, and leant forward, resting your forearms on your thighs as you peered at Eskel’s unlit candle. “Eskel valued my humanity more than I think I did,” you said quietly. “For me to become a witcher…he told me once it would break him. I was young, and I remember wondering how such a strong, brave witcher could ever be broken. And he said I made that possible.” You frowned, your body moving with the suddenly prominent beat of your heart as you swallowed back the tears you could feel rising. There was an odd taste in your dry mouth and a knot in your throat, and without considering the consequences, you spoke the words that had circled your mind for weeks. “Do you think I killed him?”

A harsh silence answered that question before Ciri recovered from her surprise enough to reply. “The leshy killed him.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me. Everyone keeps saying it wasn’t my fault. The leshy killed Eskel, I just killed the monster.”

“It would have killed Vesemir.”

“We could have saved him. We’ll never know if we could have saved him.”

Ciri leaned forward, trying to catch your gaze. “It would have killed Vesemir,” she firmly repeated.

When a tear leaked from your eye, you didn’t reach up to wipe it away. You stared unblinking at the candle, the moment you’d been pushing to the back of your mind since it had happened quickly overtaking your consciousness.

Everyone had told you you had done the right thing. The leshy had needed to be put down. Geralt had been pinned to the wall and Vesemir had been seconds away from impalement. If you hadn’t stabbed your sword through hi—it, Kaer Morhen would have mourned more deaths than one that evening. Still, why had that one death been him? And why had you been the one to commit it? Why couldn’t you have been in another room? Why couldn’t you have been seconds from impalement, so Vesemir could be the one with the sword? Why couldn’t you have just closed your eyes?

“I know,” you said. “I know. I just…I hope he forgives me, you know? Wherever he is.”

Ciri sighed, the memories of her own unprocessed grief returning to the forefront of her mind. “I didn’t know Eskel very long, or very well,” she tried, “but the stories I’ve heard and the image everyone has conjured of him in my mind…he wouldn’t blame you for it, Y/N. If anything, I think he would thank you. If there was any emotion Eskel held for you in insane amounts, it was love. Of that I’ve never been more certain.”

When you glanced up, an anguish swimming in your glassy eyes with an overwhelming ferocity, Ciri abandoned all caution and enveloped the girl she considered a sister in her arms. You thankfully welcomed it, tensing for a mere second before tightening your arms around her and burying your face in Ciri’s hair.

“I miss him so much,” you said, your voice wavering.

“I know. I—And I know how it feels. So, if you ever need to talk about it, maybe we can help each other. Mousesack once told me that emotion can be a weapon. Don’t hide it away. It deserves to be let out.”

You drew apart after a moment of quiet tranquillity, the only sound between you being the faint flicker of the flames and distant voices in close corridors. You wiped at your cheeks and took a deep breath as you stood to your feet and walked towards the candles. The wick Ciri had used still rested on the table. You clenched your fist in attempt to dispel the trembling before you picked it up.

Lighting a candle for someone who had meant the world to you seemed a pitiful way to commemorate him, but you figured it a step towards acceptance. Nobody except you and Ciri would know that this was Eskel’s candle, or that that was Roach’s, and that Mousesack’s. But, in a way, it was like the medallion tree at Kaer Morhen. No soul outside would understand which medallion had belonged to which witcher, and why hanging them on branches was helpful to the witchers’ grieving, but none of that mattered. They didn’t need to know. Something like this was an intimacy and a comfort little were allowed to be afforded, and in that way it was perfect.

You could remember the first time you had experienced the medallion tree in a way that wasn’t simply observing it at breakfast or walking past it on your way to your room. You’d only been ten, nowhere near oblivious to grief but innocent all the same. Eskel had let you pick the branch and he had hung the medallion’s chain around it.

“There,” Eskel said. “Now he’s at peace with his fallen brothers.” He stood back and watched as you stared up at the tree with an open mouth, admiring it properly for the first time.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out.

Eskel turned back to the tree with a soft smile. “It is, isn’t it? Each medallion tells a different story, but every one radiates the same bravery and loyalty.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “One day, mine will be among them, as will Geralt’s, and Vesemir’s, a—” He stopped suddenly as your gaze, ripe with horror and frustration at his words, snapped to look at him. He snorted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you fondly into his side even as you feebly resisted. “Oh, come on,” he said in amusement, “none of that will happen for a long, long time, I promise you.” He pointed at a branch with his free hand as you settled against him. “Look, I’ve already picked my place out. That one there. And Geralt likes this one because it’s centred. And Lambert chose that one, but I think he’d be better suited somewhere no one can see him. Maybe behind mine. Right? Hm?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help your grin as Eskel stupidly waggled his eyebrows at you. He was trying to get a rise, and it worked, as always. You wrapped your arms around him and relaxed your cheek against his ribs, peering up at the tree once more. “Will I go on the tree?” you asked then.

It was an offense to Eskel’s very nature for him to even think about the fact that the little girl he’d helped raise would one day die, and he spoke for the entirety of Kaer Morhen when he admitted his selfish hope that he would arrive on the tree long before your last breath left your body. Still, he had some semblance of peace in knowing he would, in part, rest with his brothers after he died. If he could give that to you, then he didn’t see why not.

He hummed under his breath. “One day, I’ll make you your own medallion,” he promised, “and when, if we ever let you, you pass over this world, you will have your own branch.”

You smiled and Eskel put a hand over his heart, his eyes on the newest medallion on the tree. “Rest now.”

You clutched the chain around your neck, the cold medallion hanging between your skin and your tunic. You touched the burning wick to the candle and watched it dance to life.

“For Eskel,” you whispered, just as the flame bent towards you.

Witcher Masterpost

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