Happy Birthday, @gwynbleiddancrevan!!! It was such a joy to write this fic based on your wonderful Geralt/Avallacâh art! đđđ
Fandom: WiedĹşmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Avallacâh/Geralt of Rivia
Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Conflict, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Non-Sexual Bondage, destruction of personal property, based on the Witcher 3 Wild Hunt ending, but with way more drama, Canonical Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending
Geralt was going to kill the snake-tongued Aen Elle bastard.
And if the wretch had hurt Ciri, he was going to cut out his lying tongue first, and gouge out his winter cold eyes, and carve a pit of blood in the place of his missing heart.Â
It warmed him like a fire to think on it, and he took the steps to the tower five at a time despite the slipping snow, the icy air turning hot in his chest with his every quick breath, his inhuman metabolism pushed to its limit as his muscles coiled and his arm yearned to draw steel.Â
He saw the unnatural light before he even reached the top: long white tendrils of power casting their deadly net all the way up to the sky. And in the middle of it all, Avallacâh stood like the deceptive spider he was, one hand raised to weave his deadly web of sorcery.Â
This was the creature that Geralt had willingly trusted with his daughterâs life: This monster who had pretended to be on her side, and Geralt had somehow believed him even after seeing his obsession with her bloodline, the notes in his laboratory. This elf from another world, who claimed to be different from those of his homeland who wished Ciri harm, yet proved to be even deadlier, outwitting them all through cunning rather than brute force.
How could Geralt have ever made such a mistake, when the signs were so obvious, and the danger so great to that which he held most dear? He had wanted to believe Avallacâh, had wanted to count him as a friend. And the seductive scoundrel was good at making himself trusted: always calm, ever wise, patiently offering his so-called protection until Ciri was ready to trust him with her life. She was young; her naivety could be excused on that account. But Geralt? With all the evil heâd seen, with all his years of life, and still he had somehow fallen into the charmerâs honeyed trap, had fallen for that smooth voice and those mesmerizing otherworldly eyes.
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