#naoimagines

Geralt was tired. He had been on the road for days, having heard of a long term contract with a significant reward. When he had finally reached the castle where the contract was based out of, he was told to wait in an antechamber until someone would meet with him.

He had been pacing for at least half an hour when you finally slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind you before looking up at him.

“Sir Witcher, how kind of you - Oh! Geralt!” Geralt could see a flush come over your cheeks when you realized it was him. Relaxing slightly now that it was someone he knew, Geralt allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

“It’s been too long, Y/N. It is good to see you again.” At the sound of his low voice, you flushed further before gesturing at a small table in the corner of the room. Geralt knew there was a map on it, having examined the room while he waited, but followed you over nonetheless. Leaning against the table slightly, you began to speak, telling Geralt of the monsters that had been attacking various villages in the kingdom. 

“They had just been attacking the outskirts of small towns, taking livestock and supplies originally. Lately, though, they have been taking people. There have been seven villagers killed in attacks, and countless more injured. There are several people missing as well, we don’t know if they have been taken or if they have been- oh!” you were cut off as another man in armour entered the room and came up behind you, grabbing your waist and spinning you around harshly before pinning you to his chest as he kissed you.

He released you, allowing you to stand beside him, though keeping a hand on the small of your back. You offered Geralt a tight smile as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “Geralt, I would like you to meet my husband, Sir Livialli. We were married last year.”

As the man smirked at him, Geralt felt a flash of hot something go through him with the news. “I offer you my congratulations,” he ground out. You thanked him politely, the lines around your eyes getting harder with the phrase. 

Sir Livialli turned to you, dismissing Geralt. “You have informed him of the contract, yes? Discussed payment? Told him what is expected?”

“I-” you tried to reply.

“Good, good. Well, don’t forget that you will be serving dinner for the both of us in my quarters tonight. I have spoken with the cook and he is expecting you to pick up the tray at dusk.” With that, Sir Livialli pivoted sharply and left the room, not waiting for a reply.

You sighed, turning to Geralt as you pasted a smile on your face. He could tell that it was forced, you looked tired under your facade. He frowned at you, silently asking a question.

Dropping into a chair along the wall, you ran a hand over your face before looking up at Geralt as he moved to the chair next to yours. “He means well, he’s just used to having servants. We are just staying here, this isn’t our manor. The king has asked that my husband help out with the monster problem as he is a proficient knight.” You rolled your head so Geralt was in your gaze. “You will likely be working with him at some point.”

Geralt grunted in response as you fell silent. Observing you, he could see the underlying exhaustion in your posture, could see the stress lines that had gathered on your face. You looked so different from when you two had first met several years earlier.

Geralt looked up sharply as the door to his room opened before you stepped in, a tray of food and medicine in your hands. You smiled brightly at him, ignoring the scowl that appeared on his face at the sight of visitors.

“It’s time for your medicine, Geralt.” you almost sang, “I need to check your bandages as well.”

You flounced over to his bed, setting the tray down on the table next to it as you gestured for the man to sit up. Gently, you peeled the layers of cloth back, clicking your tongue when the wounds were revealed. “They are almost healed, love, you’ll be back on your feet and out and about in no time. There is no bleeding either, so I won’t have to change them just yet.” You quickly and efficiently wrapped the bandages back around his torso, your fingers gentle and your demeanour holding no fear.

You stood from where you had sat on his bed to check his bandages, turning to regard him once more. “You are too pale, Witcher, you should get some sunlight.” Pursing your lips at the lack of reply, you shook your head before turning and heading for the door.

“Wait.”

The low voice stopped you with your hand on the doorknob. You turned your head slightly, regarding the man out of the corner of your eye.

“If it would be ok with you… I would appreciate- that is, if you didn’t mind..”

“Spit it out, Geralt, I won’t bite.” You turned to face him fully, a small smile on your face to sharpen the blow of your words.

“I have been in bed for a while, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mind helping me outside. To the gardens maybe?” Geralt looked unsure at his request, wondering if he had taken your comment for what it was meant to be.

A smile split your face, lighting up the room and causing Geralt’s heart to speed up slightly. You practically floated back over to the bed, swiping his shirt from a chair as you went. “I thought you would never ask.”

That day was the first of many ventures out to the garden and beyond.

The two of you had met while he was recovering at a Temple of Melitele where you had been studying healing. You had been one of the only healers who had been comfortable around him, and eventually the only one he trusted with his care. A fragile love had blossomed between the two of you that consisted of walks, stolen nights, and soft whispers in the mornings. You had agreed to part ways when he was healed, as you would soon be heading back to your family and Geralt back out into the hunt. There was an unspoken if at your parting, a small hope that you might see each other again.

It seemed that fate was a cruel mistress though, bringing the two of you back together sooner that you could have hoped, but ensuring you couldn’t be together through your marriage. 

Geralt came back to the present with a frown on his face, which only deepened as he compared his memories of you to the figure in front of him. “How have you been? Since you left the temple?”

You sighed again, shaking your head with a strained smile. “I have been good, Geralt. I learned much, and have been lucky enough that Sir Livialli allows me to continue working with our people. I have been able to heal a great many of the king’s subjects with my knowledge.”

Squinting his eyes at you, Geralt nodded, although he didn’t believe you. As if you knew he didn’t believe your words, you stood, brushing your skirt off. “Well, if you will excuse me Geralt, I have many matters that I need to attend to. Perhaps I shall see you in passing while you are here.”

Geralt stood as well and took a step towards you, frowning when you flinched and took a small step back. Slowly, he reached for your hand, something releasing in his chest when you relaxed and allowed him to lift it to his lips, flushing when he pressed a soft kiss to your palm. “I hope to see you around, my lady.”

A small smile graced your lips as you gently withdrew your hand, ducking your head as you left the room. The softness in Geralt’s face slowly melted behind your back, upset that seemed so tired in such a short time, confused that you flinched away from him when you never had before, dismayed at the prospect that you had already moved on from him. He resolved to seek you out again, to make sure that you were ok with the life you had now. 

**~*~*~*~**

After you left, Geralt met briefly with the king before he asked to be pointed in the direction of the most recent attack. Seeing the late hour, the king said that he would have Geralt escorted to the scene first thing tomorrow morning, but suggested that he get some rest this evening. Annoyed, but seeing the reason in it, Geralt retreated to the rooms he had been given for the duration of his stay. 

Once there, he lay down in bed, closing his eyes to try to go to sleep, but his mind kept returning to you. He kept comparing the memories of the bright, young woman he remembered from the temple to the worn down person he had met today. He couldn’t reconcile what had happened to you, what had been done to make that excitable healer into what he had seen today.

You flung your arms out the side, narrowly missing Geralt’s face as you collapsed backwards into the soft grass. He allowed a rare smile to grace his lips, amused with your antics. Rolling to your stomach, you lifted your head to peer at the Witcher. What started as a chuckle turned into a full blown laugh as he saw the pieces of grass stuck in your hair. Scowling, you swatted at him in retaliation. Gently, he brushed you off, reaching to pull the pieces of grass from your head.

Settling, you tugged on Geralt’s hand, pulling him down next to you, snuggling into his side once he was settled. “I can’t wait to be out in the world, to be able to explore and see all of the sights. And to help people! I’ll be able to use what I learned here to help my people, no one will suffer a hurt if I can help it.”

Nosing your hair, Geralt smiled down at you. “And what a wonderful healer you will make.”

You had been so excited about leaving the temple. You had been sad to see him go, but the two of you understood that your lives were headed in very different directions. There was always that underlying hope that you would see each other again, that fate might have more written for you. It seemed that she did, though not in the way either of you had anticipated.

Rolling out of bed, Geralt shook the memories from his mind. Realizing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night, he attended to his gear, checking his armour and sharpening his weapons in anticipation of morning, falling into a slight meditation as he focused on the repetitive actions.

A knock roused him from the light trance he had fallen into, a servant with a tray of food and the message that a guide would be by to retrieve him in half an hour. It was a quick trip to the village, Geralt being left at the scene of the attack as the guide quickly left him, glancing nervously around him as he guided his horse back towards the castle.

Dismounting and tying Roach to a nearby stand, Geralt surveyed the town. It was deserted, houses locked and dark, streets empty of people. Hearing voices, he moved further into the town, following the low murmur towards a large house in the centre of town. As he walked, he could see evidence of the attack. Blood splatters stained walls, weapons littered the ground along with anything else the villagers had been carrying when the monsters attacked.

He could see the claw marks on the walls, the creature obviously very violent. He needed to see the bodies of the victims, needed to determine just exactly what was causing this much damage. Reaching the source of the noise, he was surprised to see you there. You were directing various healers, organizing the chaos, a bloodstained apron covering your front. Your sleeves were pushed up past your elbows, blood staining your hands, hair falling from where you secured. The beds behind you were full of people, some more injured than others. The healers worked frantically, trying to save as many as they could. You looked harried as Geralt approached you, directing a young healer to go boil more water.

“Y/N.” you jumped at your name, spoken in the low voice you still heard in your dreams. Turning, you saw Geralt standing behind you, dressed in full armour. 

“Oh, Geralt.” you glanced behind you as your name was called. “One moment!” you turned back to the Witcher in front of you. “What did you need?”

“I need to examine the bodies to determine what did this.” He felt his chest tighten as your face fell. You wiped your hands off on your apron, catching another healer as he went past. 

“I am going to show the Witcher the bodies, I will be back in a moment.” the frazzled healer nodded, before continuing in the direction he had been going. Turning, you led Geralt back out of the door of your temporary hospital. You turned and headed towards the edge of town, the sounds fading the farther away you got. Geralt trotted after you, content to remain silent, knowing you needed it after the harried morning you were sure to have had. 

“They were ravaged, Geralt.” He jumped as you broke the silence, before frowning at your defeated tone. “The monsters’ claws cut through skin and muscle like paper, so many people died just from their wounds.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “We also found some bodies drained of blood. Mainly young males. Their bodies weren’t as bad, but they were emptied. I think it's some sort of vampire.”

“It sounds like it, I would still like to see the bodies and confirm. The best would be to see the creatures, but that would require another attack and we don’t want one anytime soon.” Geralt’s frown grew as you shrunk in on yourself, stopping a few meters away from a dark house just outside the treeline. Realization dawned on him when he could smell the scent of blood coming from the house. He glanced back, seeing that the town was out of sight around the bend they had just followed, in the hopes other villagers would not wander across the dead.

“We haven’t had a chance to bury them yet.” You wouldn’t look at him, tears in your eyes as you fought to control your emotions. Shaking yourself, you went to the door and lifted a lit torch from its holder before entering, lighting more torches as you went. Geralt followed you, observing the various pallets that held sheet covered bodies.

Pulling one back, he winced as he saw the face of a young woman frozen in a scream, her chest cut open revealing the layers of muscle and bone. After examining the wounds, Geralt recovered the body, moving to the next pallet. This one held a young male, mostly uninjured. The white pallor of his skin betrayed the cause of death, the body had been drained of blood. Looking closer, Geralt could see a bite mark at the base of his neck, sharp teeth marks deep in the skin.

Standing, he turned to face you who had retreated to the doorway, gazing out into the forest. “It’s definitely a vampire, although of which grade I am not sure. It might be a bruxa or a higher vampire. Do you have any victims who would be willing to talk to me, to tell me what they saw?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, refusing to turn and look at the bodies, postured rounded under the stress. “There may be a few, some people we are treating were on the edge of the attack and not injured as extensively. I can ask when we go back.”

Nodding, Geralt approached you, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the hospital. The walk back was silent, Geralt glancing occasionally at you. As you reached the bend, Geralt stopped suddenly, you taking a few steps before realizing he was no longer beside you.

“What-” you stopped speaking, seeing Geralt tense, staring at the trees on the side of the path. You realized the forest had fallen silent, no birds singing or animals calling for their mates. Unconsciously, your hand drifted to the short sword you had strapped to your waist, thankful that you had insisted on silver. Your husband had protested, saying you wouldn’t need it, but you fought for it, one of the fews things you didn’t back down on.

Suddenly, a dark figure with wings leapt out of the trees, knocking Geralt to the ground as you shrieked. “Run Y/N!” he growled, throwing the figure from him and rolling to his feet, unsheathing the silver sword on his back in one fluid motion.

Turning, you started in the direction of town, stopping quickly when three more figures dropped down in front of you. You stumbled back towards Geralt, drawing your sword from its sheath, gripping it in both hands. The lead creature flared it's dark wings, opening its mouth to release a screech, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth. The creature was pale, long dark hair covering its shoulders, ending at halfway down the humanoid’s chest, ribs on display. Wrinkled skin covered every inch, dried blood covering its chin and chest.

The creature screeched again, darting at you with a hand ending in a claw raised to attack. You ducked under the strike, bringing your sword up to slash its ribs as it went past you, pivoting on your heel and back away to keep the two sets of creatures in your sight. You could feel Geralt approaching your left side, sword held out in front of him.

“Stay close to my side, we need to keep them in front of us.” Geralt’s voice rumbled out next to you, making you jump at the abruptness of his voice. Breathlessly, you voiced your agreement before dancing to the right, stabbing up at the creature's chest as it lunged at your pair, as Geralt brought his sword down in a chopping motion, severing its head from its body.

Pulling your blade out, the two of you moved clear of the body, turning back to back as the three remaining monsters separated, two moving to flank you on either side as the third remaining motionless, tilting its head to observe you.

You felt Geralt shift his weight behind you as you watched the two creatures to either side of you, dodging as you heard the man behind you roar “left!”

You moved, the monster to your side attacking, claws swiping at your body. You slashed as it passed, cutting into its arm, leaving the limb hanging useless at its side. You could hear the dying screech of Geralt’s creature, feel him move to stab the creature that just passed you. The monster backed away from Geralt towards you, you swiftly moved out of its way, losing the protection Geralt had provided at your back.

As you moved, you suddenly became aware of the fact that there had been four creatures attacking. You and Geralt had dispatched two and he was occupied with a third, so where was the fourth? Spinning at the feeling of a presence behind you, you desperately brought your sword up to block the claws that were striking in your direction. You managed to catch the arm and redirect it slightly, but it wasn’t enough to keep you entirely unharmed. 

A wave of hot pain washed over you as the monster’s claws bit deep into your arm and side, blood blooming on the cloth. You released a shout at the feeling, switching your sword to just your right hand, ducking and stabbing at the humanoid as it rushed you again, feeling your sword strike true.

Releasing the hilt, you staggered backwards, clutching at your side as your head spun with the pain. Geralt was quick to grab you as you swayed, he must have dispatched the other monster without you noticing. His hands frantically roamed your body, searching desperately for the source of the blood. You swatted his hands away, staggering a few meters to sit on a nearby rock. Not that the pain was setting in, it was like a wave of cold water flowing over you, clearing your mind briefly. You knew you had minutes before the shock set in.

Reaching to the pouch you kept at your waist, you ripped it off and handed it to Geralt who was hovering anxiously, hands outstretched to do what, you weren’t sure. Reaching down, you ripped the bottom of your tunic off before pressing it against your side, Geralt doing the same with his outer layer, having stripped his upper armour to get at it. You swayed again, Geralt lunging at you to keep you upright.

“There are herbs in my bag, they will help staunch the bleeding.” Leaving Geralt to scramble through the pouch you’d handed him, you peeled the ripped cloth away from the wounds on your arm and your side, wincing when you saw the torn skin. Looking more closely, the wounds weren’t too deep, they just bled freely. A broad hand entered your vision, holding the herbs to help stop the bleeding. Taking them with a murmur of thanks, you began pressing the herbs against your side to staunch the bleeding, watching as Geralt moved away to examine the bodies. 

The world spun around you as you pressed the cloth back over the herbs, seeing the bleeding slowing. All of a sudden, Geralt appeared in your vision again, crouching in front of you with a concerned look on his face. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Focusing hard, you finally made out what he was saying. “We need to get you out of here, get you somewhere safe.”

Dazed, you nodded absently, hand reaching up to grip Geralt’s shoulder to help you stand. His arm snaked around your side, replacing your hand as he put pressure on your side. You staggered slightly, leaning on the large man next to you for support. Slowly, the two of you made your way back to town, you insisting on stopping at the hospital to check on your patients.

When you got there and your fellow healers saw your state, your quick check-in turned into an extensive medical check as they cleaned and stitched your wounds before finally allowing you to leave with Geralt after bandaging your arm and your side. You half-led, half-stumbled to a house nearby, mumbling that one of your patients told you to use their house. Geralt was almost hauling you at that point, carrying you through the door before settling you down on to the pallet in the bedroom. You blinked up at him, shivering from the blood loss. As he retreated, you reached up to grab at his hand, stopping him. “Stay, please?” you asked softly.

Geralt stopped, hesitation on his face. You tugged on his hand again, and he went with you, laying down next to you as you shuffled backwards into his chest. His arm came around to hold you against him, cognizant of your injuries. You sighed, body relaxing into him as the two of you succumbed to sleep.

**~*~*~*~**

The next morning, you slowly rose to consciousness, aware of a large, warm weight pressing you down. You shifted, and then winced as your movements caused sharp pain to shoot through you. “Are you awake, mouse?” a deep voice rumbled from above your head.

Slowly opening your eyes, you took stock of your surroundings as the memories from the previous night came back to you. You smiled at the nickname, remembering the secret nights that gave you your nickname. Rolling stiffly so as to avoid agitating your injuries, you turned to your other side to face Geralt. His golden eyes gazed at you softly, “How are you feeling?”

You sighed, “I’m sore, but not in too much pain. I will be fine in a few days.”

He nodded, “Good.” His arms tightened around you briefly before releasing you as he stood up and left the bed. You sat up slowly, wincing as you stretched your arm. Geralt returned to the bed, handing you your pouch of herbs. You thanked him silently, searching for your painkillers.

“The monster was a bruxa.” You glanced up at him as he started speaking. “We knew it was a vampire, now we know which grade. They can only be killed by silver.” he glanced at your sword leaned up against the wall. “Which thankfully you had.”

You sighed, “A bruxa. And it looked like there was a pack of them.”

Geralt watched you as you rolled your shoulder with a wince before standing and striding to the wall and strapping your sword back on. “I should let the king know, he will be interested in what monster is plaguing our kingdom.”

Geralt watched your slow movements with an intensity you couldn’t interpret. “I missed you.”

Your head shot up, not expecting an admission like that from him. You stared at him, watching as he moved closer to you. His hands came up to cup your face, your own latching onto his wrists as you stared at each other. “I missed you as well,” you whispered. “It was so hard to leave, not knowing if I was going to see you again.”

“I know.” his breath brushed against your lips as he brought his face to capture you in a kiss. You melted against him, body relaxing into his broad chest, eyes fluttering shut as a warm feeling came over you.

You sighed into Geralt’s mouth, savouring the feeling that you had missed, that you had longed for. His hands left your face, arms coming to wrap around you, holding you close to him, your hands resting on his chest as you parted, leaning your head against his shoulder, content in each other’s presence.

As you relaxed further, you realized what you were doing. You ripped yourself away from him, panic and fear taking over your being. You stumbled, flinching when Geralt’s hands came out to steady you, backing away further. You tried to ignore the hurt that flashed through his eyes before a stony mask came over his face.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, I can’t, you, we can’t, I have to go.” You turned to rush for the door, being stopped by Geralt’s hand grasping your wrist. You tugged, trying to free yourself, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why? What did I do?” He asked of you, trying to understand what had changed.

“I have a husband, Geralt, I must be faithful.” You replied wearily, ignoring the hurt that went through you at the sound of his voice.

“He doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, mouse, please.” His voice was ragged, pleading with you to stay. Your heart clenched at the use of your nickname.

“You don’t understand, I don’t stay for me.” With that, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp and fled, hot tears running down your face.

**~*~*~*~**

Geralt tried to speak to you after the incident, not content with the explanation given. It had felt right to have you in his arms, he had the most restful sleep that he had had in years with you. He didn’t understand what had changed. You had loved each other and you very clearly were uncomfortable with your husband. Why you had married him in the first place, he had no idea.

The first couple of days Geralt barely saw you. You would leave the hall when he entered, you wouldn’t come down for meals, and he heard whispers that you had taken ill. He didn’t have a chance to seek you out, spending his afternoons and nights hunting for the pack of bruxa in the forest and sleeping through the mornings to recover. You began to spend more time in court, but he was still unable to find a time to speak to you.

He would see you across the hall, speaking with other ladies of the court. You would look up and see him, sending him a sad smile when your eyes would meet, but whenever he tried to approach you you would disappear, making excuses to the women you were with. They would always apologize to him for you leaving, saying that you had something to attend to, but there was an underlying sadness when they spoke.

Geralt didn’t understand, normally he was met with hostility and distrust, never with this gentle sadness and understanding. The women never shied away from him, but would approach him and make conversation whenever he would try to speak with you, allowing you an escape. Finally, frustrated with being unable to speak to you for days, he asked one of the ladies he often saw you speaking with.

“She can’t talk to you dear,” the lady explained, glancing around as she dropped her voice. “Her husband was furious when she didn’t return to the castle that night, even though she was injured. He has said they will be returning to their manor as soon as the monsters are taken care of, dreadful things. The poor darling was so distressed after the attack she rarely left her room for days.”

Realizing it was your husband preventing you from speaking to him, Geralt felt a shallow hope ignite itself in his chest. You clearly didn’t love your husband, he could offer for you to come with him, leave this life. You had always wanted to travel, and this could be your opportunity. With this resolve, Geralt renewed his effort to speak to you. For all his efforts, you had suddenly disappeared, and even the ladies who had been so kind to him wouldn’t say anything. When asked their faces would drop and they would shake their heads, but refuse to speak of you. He decided that if you wouldn’t go to him he would just have to come to you.

**~*~*~*~**

You closed your balcony doors behind you, allowing yourself a reprieve from the man in your chambers. Walking to the railings, you slumped against them, posture tired. You pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You didn’t hear the sounds of someone climbing over the edge until a hand entered your vision, resting itself on your arm. Frightened, you spun away, mouth opening to scream for help, before freezing as you realized it was Geralt. 

Folding in on yourself in defeat, you dropped into the chair next to you, Geralt coming to kneel beside your feet. “You have been avoiding me, mouse. What has happened?”

You can’t be here, it's not safe.” You whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. “You need to leave, Geralt, before he finds you.”

With a growl, you sensed him send a glare at the closed doors. “He poses no danger to me, I could care less if he sees me here. I am visiting an old friend, what is so wrong with that.”

Exploding out your chair, you dropped the shawl as you strode away before spinning back to pierce with Witcher with a glare. “It is not you who is danger, but me! He does not want me seeing you, Geralt, just leave! Before you do any more damage!” 

Geralt froze as your shawl fluttered to the ground, revealing what you had been trying to keep from him. He thought back to the previous week, remembering that even though the days had been warm, you had dresses with long sleeves and high collars while the rest of the women wore less. He remembered the gentle way they had handled you, no one coming up from behind you, making sure they always approached you from the front.

His eyes raked over you as your thin nightgown revealed the bruises, handprints around your wrists and throats, your arms covered in blotchy black and blue. A growl erupted from his throat as he strode towards you, his mind registering that you didn't flinch away from his approach. Gently, he took one arm, a shiver running through you as he gently brushed his fingers over the wounds that adorned you.

“Why?” his voice was broken when he asked, eyes full of despair at your situation. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook your head, unable to find the words to answer that question.

“Love, you can’t stay with him if this is how he treats you. Come with me. The contract is almost done, we have a general idea of where the nest is, once I have disposed of it I am free to go. I could take you anywhere you wanted. We could travel, see the world. I could set you up as a healer in an apothecary. Anywhere but here, mouse, you know you can’t stay.” 

Geralt caught you as you collapsed into his arms, sobs wracking your body as the dreadful sounds forced their way out of you. Gathering you, he settled himself into the chair you had vacated, arranging you on his lap as you cried, your body shuddering with the force of your grief. He let you, just holding you, supporting you as you released the emotions that had been building up, unable to release them to anyone. Shushing you, he stroked your hair as you quieted, exhausted from your outburst.

Wiping your tears, you squirmed, trying to sit up. Geralt helped you, releasing a grumble when you stood and turned to the railings, out of his reach. Standing, he followed you, but didn’t touch as you shifted away from him.

“I can’t leave, Geralt.” Your voice was tired, defeated. “There is something that keeps me here, something I need to stay for.”

“What are you staying for?” He was starting to get agitated, upset at the thought of you being with that monster any longer. “You have no family here, your husband abuses you, what could possibly be so important that you can’t leave him?”

You refused to look at him, again shifting away as he reached for you. The movement filled him with rage.

“Or is it that I’m the Butcher of Blaviken, the Witcher with no feelings?” He hissed, ignoring the flinch that his words drew from you. “Have you forgotten the months we spent together at the Temple, the love that we had? You can just say you despise me, you have no feelings for me. Don’t lie to me, Y/N, if you have turned against me as well.”

You came alive at that, spinning to face him, eyes flaring with anger. “You don’t understand,” you spat, “I don’t stay because I want to, I stay because I have to. I have to protect what’s mine. You don’t understand the position I am in, you could never understand.”

You sighed, closing your eyes at the expression of disbelief on Geralt’s face. “Just- just leave me, Geralt. Please.” Your voice broke. “I will be fine, just… go.” 

With that, you turned and entered the room behind you, leaving Geralt stunned on the balcony.

**~*~*~*~**

Your words bit deep, saying that he could never understand what you were going through. If anything, Geralt thought he was one of the only ones who could understand, having been torn from his family and forced to endure the abuse that came with the trials and training to become a Witcher. He didn’t seek you out for days, still angry that you wouldn’t explain what was going on.

He spent his nights hunting the bruxa, disposing of them with a brutal efficiency that even he was shocked at. On his way back in the mornings, he would stop and stare at your balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He tried to ignore the whispers about you in court, saying that you no longer left your rooms, you pleaded sick when anyone asked you to join them. He ignored the glances of pity the women sent his way, filled with something he didn’t understand.

It was days before Geralt saw you again, you were walking through one of the gardens in the court grounds, accompanied by one of the maids. As he approached, he could see you leaning on the woman next to you, pale and out of breath. Again, you were wearing a long sleeved, high collar dress.

You glanced up at his approach, and seeing him, quietly spoke under your breath to the woman. She frowned at you, asking a question back. You smiled softly, squeezing her arm as you nodded, before she seemed to acquiesce, staring at Geralt as she let you go. She stopped next to Geralt as she passed him, glaring up at him. “You take care with her, Sir Witcher, make sure that she doesn’t tire herself out.” She spoke before continuing, disappearing out of sight as she turned a corner on the path.

Geralt turned back to you, rushing forwards as you swayed, offering you an arm to lean on. You patted his arm, breathlessly pointing out a bench a few meters away. As he moved the pair of you towards it, Geralt examined you with a frown. He could see the edges of a bruise peeking up over your collar, and you were paler than before, highlighting the edges of a black eye that you had tried to cover with makeup.

“How are you, Geralt? Have you been able to take care of the bruxa? I haven’t been able to make it back to town to see how my people have been doing.” You spoke softly, unable to catch your breath to finish a full sentence.

He stared at you in disbelief. “You are worried about your people? What about you, Y/N? He is killing you, you can’t stay!”

You ignored his question, again asking about your people. Geralt assured you they were fine, that they were healing before returning the subject to you. “Even the ladies in the court are worried. A few of them asked me if I had spoken to you. You need to care for yourself, not just your people.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand. No one understands. I can’t leave him, I have to protect what’s mine.”

“Then tell me!” Geralt all but roared, before regretting his tone as you flinched. He softened his tone, eyes desperate. “Mouse, please, help me understand. If I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t help you. Please, let me help you.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you collapsed into his side, burying your face in his chest, his arms coming around your back to support you. He gently rubbed circles into your back, soothing you as you cried. You quieted down after a while, leaving your head resting on his chest as you spoke. “I have a daughter.”

Geralt froze, understanding flooding him at your statement. You shifted, struggling to sit up as he guided you with his hand. “We met a few years ago, he was kind and caring. My parents were thrilled, a knight!” You laughed hollowly. “He just wanted someone to play with. After a few months, we were out for a walk in the woods and he-” you cut yourself off with a sob, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

Geralt growled at this admission, rage filling his chest. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you into his side as if he could protect you from the world with that action. You took a deep breath, calming yourself as you continued.

“I refused to see him after that, my parents didn’t understand why I had suddenly cut off my relationship with him. Until I missed a cycle. I had always wanted a baby, just not that way. When my parents found out, they spoke to his father and arranged our marriage, not wanting to bring a scandal between the two of us. People had been curious, we had spent a lot of time wandering our town.”

You glanced up at him, frantic to make him understand.. “Once we were married, I thought it would be fine. He was kind to me while I was pregnant. It was only a few months ago that he started getting physical with me. But he started threatening her, my little Corinna, and I couldn’t let him hurt her! If he is too busy with me, he won’t touch her! Please Geralt, he can’t hurt her. I can’t leave, he’d kill her! She’s eight months old, she doesn’t deserve this.”

Again, you dissolved into tears, sobbing against his chest as his arms came up to protect you from the evils in this world.

**~*~*~*~**

You had been exhausted from crying, so Geralt had returned you to your rooms. The maid that had been with you at first was waiting by your door, sending Geralt a glare at your state until he asked her to keep Sir Livialli from the rooms, and that he would be back to collect you at the end of his contract.

“Oh thank you, Sir Witcher, thank you for helping her. She is so kind to everyone, we couldn’t stand that she was letting him do this to her.” She tearfully thanked him, saying that she would have some things packed for you when he came to collect you.

Geralt strode to his room, radiating anger as he dressed in his armour with cold precision, slinging his silver sword over his back. He went to the throne room next, requesting Sir Livialli to accompany him on his final attack on the bruxa’s nest. The king was delighted at this, offering further assistance but Geralt refused, saying that he only needed two, any more and the pack would know that they were coming.

The ride to the forest was silent, neither the knight nor the Witcher speaking to each other. The battle was vicious, Geralt sending as many bruxa at the knight as possible while still taking down the nest. There were six bruxa left, Geralt having exterminated many of them during his previous forays. Sensing the younger, male blood, four of the bruxa went after Sir Livillia while two went after Geralt.

He dispatched them quickly, keeping his back to a tree while parrying the slashes of claws and teeth. Putting his sword point down in the dirt, he leaned against the tree and observed the fight across from him.

The man was a decent swordsman, Geralt observed. He was keeping up for the most part, having killed one of the bruxa. Lifting his sword, Geralt stalked towards the group. One of the creatures saw him coming, turning and attacking. It was a short fight, Geralt slashing its arms before ending it with a thrust through its chest, turning to meet the second last bruxa attacking to avenge its fallen sister. Sir Livialli was slowing, Geralt noticed, as he was occupied with the last monster. 

He slowed his strokes, toying with his opponent as he observed the knight drop his sword after taking a slash to his arm. Geralt quickly disposed of the bruxa, stopping and watching as Sir Livialli fell to the ground, the monster having opened his back with its claws. He dragged himself through the dirt, reaching to Geralt for aid.

“Help… me…” he managed to groan, Geralt watching him with a piercing gaze. He didn’t respond for a moment, the bruxa stalking in for the kill.

Geralt stared at him with a cold face. “Why should I help you when you have hurt her?”

A look of realization came over Sir Livialli’s before the expression turned to horror as the bruxa leapt onto him, tearing his throat out with a jerk of its head. Geralt swung his sword, separating its head from its body while it was distracted with its kill. Cleaning his sword, he resheathed it and swiftly moved to mount Roach, turning her in the direction of the castle before taking off as fast as he could.

**~*~*~*~**

The castle was quiet when he returned, a somber mood in the air. Geralt quickly reported to the king that the nest was destroyed, but Sir Livialli had unfortunately lost his life in the attack. The king dismissed this, praising Geralt for his deeds and passing over his reward.

Having settled his account, he all but ran through the hallways, desperate to see you and to take you away from the hell hole that was this place. As he reached your rooms, he stopped, seeing some of your friends leaving with tears in their eyes. The maid he had spoken to earlier looked up at his approach, her face falling as she saw him. The door opened behind her, Geralt flinching as the copper scent of blood hit him. The colour drained from his face as he saw another woman hurry out of the room, a wad of bloody towels in her arms.

He entered the room, finding you lying pale and limbless on the bed, surrounded by women. Seeing him, the woman at your head gently prodded you, whispering something to you. At her words, you rolled your head towards him, a pained smile gracing your face. “Geralt.” you murmured. 

At your words, he padded forwards, scared to make too much noise. You raised a hand to him, and Geralt’s heart fell as he saw it shake in the air. Grasping it softly, he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as he sat on the bed by your side.

“You came back.” 

“I did. And I promise he will never hurt you or your daughter, ever again.” Geralt reached out, brushing a piece of your hair away from your sweaty face.

“That’s… good…” Your eyes fell closed. One of the women in the room beckoned to Geralt, drawing him to the side.

“What happened to her?” Geralt spared you a glance as you lay pale and motionless on the bed.

“He happened.” The woman spit. “He beat her to within an inch of her life, that bastard, and left her for dead. She’s lost the baby as well.”

Geralt froze. “The baby?”

She glanced at him, sadness in her eyes. “You didn’t know? You poor thing. She was four months pregnant, but she’s miscarried. We can’t stop the bleeding, I don’t know if she’ll make it.”

He looked back at you over his shoulder, you were tossing and muttering to yourself on the bed. “Go be with her.” He felt a gentle prod to his shoulder. Following the direction, he returned to the bed, gently sitting next to you and taking your hand.

You opened your eyes. “Geralt. I’m so tired.” 

“Shh.” he stroked your hair. “I’m here now.”

Tears ran down your face as you closed your eyes. “My daughter, my Corinna, you have to help her.”

“I know, I will.” He wiped your tears. “I will take care of her.”

“You always were my guardian angel, Geralt. You saved me from him. You’ll save my daughter as well.” Opening your eyes, you shakily raised a hand to his cheek. “I’m so tired.”

He felt a tear run down his face. “It’s ok. You can let go now.”

“Thank you.” You closed your eyes, head falling to the side as he heard your heart stutter, before stopping with a finality that sent a dagger through Geralt. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing and turning away from the bed. The woman from earlier stood in the doorway, a bag over her shoulder and a bundle in her arms.

“Here.” She passed Geralt the bag, he slung it over his shoulder as she passed him the bundle. Settling it in his arms, he looked down to see a small face, eyes closed, nestled in the blankets. Gently, he raised a hand to stroke a finger down the little cheek. The babe let out a soft sigh, curling closer into Geralt’s warmth.

Looking up, the woman had a soft, sad smile on her face at the two of them “I know she will be well cared for. This is what she would have wanted for her.” He nodded, not trusting his voice.

She pushed him gently, “Go Witcher.”

Readjusting his grip on the child, he looked down once more, before turning back to her. “Thank you.”

As the tears in her eyes spilled over, “Be safe. You take care of her.”

“I will.” He turned and left the room, holding his bundle close. Reaching the stables, he secured the bag to his saddle before mounting, riding out of the castle.

He travelled for weeks, stopping frequently to feed and bathe the child. It was slow going, but Geralt didn’t care. The people that he passed gawked at the sight of a Witcher with a child, but he continued on, ignoring the stares and the whispers.

He finally reached the Temple of Melitele, the priestesses welcoming him. He hid the bundle under his cloak until he secured an audience with the high priestess. She had gasped when he revealed the child, reaching out to take her from him.

“Who is this little sweet?” she cooed, holding a finger out for the babe to grab.

“This is Corinna, Y/N’s daughter. She died saving her people.” Geralt answered, ignoring the look of shock that passed over the woman’s face. “Will you care for her? The road is no place for a child.”

Looking back at the child with a look of sorrow in her face, the priestess responded, “Of course. You will visit though? Don’t leave this child with no memories of her mother.”

“I will. And I will bring coin for payment as well.”

The priestess scoffed. “No need, Geralt. You have done enough to help us over the years, it is the least we can do. But I will be expecting you to visit.”

Geralt nodded. “Thank you.” The priestess laid the babe back in his arms. Geralt looked down as Y/E/C orbs blinked up at him. “I will miss you, little one.” He raised a finger to brush the child’s face. “You be good for the priestesses, and I will be back to visit soon.”

**~*~*~*~**

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Consciousness came back slowly. You remained still, aware that you were in your own bed, but with no recollection of how you got there. As you stared up at your ceiling, you slowly remembered following Geralt out into the forest and learning how to shift between your two forms. Closing your eyes, you searched within yourself until you found the well of power. It was easier to find it now that you knew where it was. You could feel the power humming through your veins, calling to you to use it. Although tempted, with a great effort you withdrew from within yourself before opening your eyes. You sat up and swung your feet out of bed, pulling the blanket around your shoulders as you stood up and went in search of a dress. As you searched your room, you froze when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. There were four new silver scars decorating your side. Getting closer to the mirror, you examined your skin, poking and prodding at them. There was no pain, but with that conclusion came the realization that the scars were in the same place as Geralt’s injuries. Unsure of how you felt bearing the same marks as the man with whom you felt such a connection to, you shook yourself and ignored them for the time being, grabbing a dress out of your closet to clothe yourself. 

Leaving your room, you wandered down the hallway looking for the witcher who had helped you earlier that day. You poked your head into your work room, wondering if he had maybe slept on the bed in there. Not finding him, you continued into the main room to see if he had stayed on the couch while he waited for you to wake. The room was empty, and didn’t look as if anyone had been there in the last little while. The embers were dark and the air cold, not showing any signs of an occupant.

You entered your kitchen, now starting to worry when you couldn’t find the man who had turned your world upside down. You thought about the feelings you had for him, how you still had so many questions, and you slowly turned to panic. You could feel your breathing accelerating the longer you couldn’t find the witcher. Going back to the main room of your house and continuing to your door, you could see that it wasn’t latched like it should be if you had closed and locked it from the inside. Rushing towards the door, you pulled it open and emerged from your house, blinking at the change in light. You frantically looked around your yard, searching for the signature white hair to show you the man hadn’t left. Finding none, you staggered over to the small bench next to your door, dropping down onto it and putting your head in your hands, your eyes filling with tears. He left. Without even saying goodbye. I thought that maybe a thank you would have been warranted for saving his life. I guess witchers really don’t have emotions.

Tears started rolling down your face as you tried desperately not to cry at the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Your knowledge of your existence had just completely changed and the only person who had any knowledge of it had disappeared while you were sleeping. You felt a witcher shaped hole in your chest, something missing now that the man you felt a deep connection with was gone.

Lost in your thoughts, you missed the sound of hoofbeats riding up to your gate. A hand touched your shoulder, followed by a low voice. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Looking up, you saw the white hair and golden eyes you had been looking for. Launching yourself off the bench, you wrapped your arms around Geralt’s middle, feeling him tense under your grip, sobbing desperately into his shirt. “I- I- I thought you- you left me, that you- you- you- left without say- saying goodbye,” you managed to get out, still clinging to the man. Slowly, his arms came up to enfold you, hesitating before pulling you tighter to his chest, his body relaxing as he embraced you. A hand rubbed soft circles into your back, soothing you.

“Shhh, I’m here, little fox. I did not mean to frighten you, I had hoped you would sleep longer. I only went to fetch my belongings now that I am in my human form. I thought that I would have been back before you woke again.” Sniffling, you lifted your face out of Geralt’s chest to look up at him. He smiled softly down at you before lifting one hand to wipe away your tears. “Come, let’s go make a cup of tea. That will help you calm down.”

Nodding, you lay your head back on his chest, tightening your grip for a moment before releasing the man and taking a step back. As you did so, you caught a glimpse of the brown and white horse that stood tied to the inside of your gate. You gasped before flouncing over, lifting a hand to stroke between the horse’s eyes. “Hello beauty,” you murmured.

“This is Roach,” Geralt came to stand next to you. He began unsaddling his mare, lifting the bags down and loosening the straps.

“What an unfortunate name,” you told the horse. “I wonder who ever gave it to you.”You could feel Geralt shooting you a look, before you bent down to retrieve one of his bags. When he tried to take it from you, you ignored him and turned towards the door, calling over your shoulder, “Are you coming, witcher?”

Inside, you dropped the bags at the end of your couch, before moving to your kitchen. Watching the man out of the corner of your eye, you swung your head sharply towards him when you caught the grimace that appeared on his face as he dropped the rest of his gear. Your eyes narrowed as his hand came up to rub at the side of his chest. “Alright,” you started towards him, “let me see.”

“What?” Instinctively, he backed away from you. You grabbed his hand, tugging him along to your work room.

“You were holding your chest.” Releasing his hand, you pushed him to sit on the bed. “Come now, off with your shirt.”

“Why?” he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at you, not making any move to remove his shirt.

“You were scowling and holding your side, I want to look at the scars and make sure that they healed properly.” You moved to his side, poking at his shoulder. Muttering about the stubbornness of women under his breath, Geralt went to stand from the bed. You smacked him upside the head, “I heard that!” Startled, Geralt tilted his head and looked hard at you. You went to poke him again, freezing when he grabbed your finger. You stared at each other, before Geralt shook himself and released your hand, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. The man sitting on your bed was made up of hard muscle, not an ounce of softness on him. And the scars, there were so many of them. Some were older, faded silvery lines, some more recent, still pink and angry. You reached out cautiously and brushed your fingers over the raised lines where his most recent injury was. His body tensed at your touch, before relaxing, a shiver travelling up his spine. Pushing aside the dangerous thoughts that whirled around your head, you sat down on the bed next to him, lowering your head so that you could examine the scars more closely. The urge to smell for the venom overcame you, and before you realized what you were doing, you had dropped your head further before gently inhaling, searching for a scent that did not belong. All you could smell was a musky, earthy smell that you realized you had begun to associate with Geralt.

At your sudden movement, Geralt had jumped before staring down at you in confusion. Embarrassed, you looked up at him with flaming cheeks before glancing back down as you saw his golden eyes fixed on you. He continued to stare, the startled but thoughtful look from earlier taking over his face. Choosing to ignore him for the moment, you brought your fingers back up to the scars to do a more thorough examination.

They appeared to be healing normally, no extra swelling or redness to indicate infection. You ran your fingers over the bumps in Geralt’s skin, ignoring the sound he made in the back of his throat. You poked at the skin next to the scars, causing the man to jump and flinch away, before scowling at you in annoyance. You stood from the bed, turning to grab his shirt and toss it at him, before crossing to the basin on the other side of the room to wash your hands. With your back turned, you took a moment to compose yourself from being in such close proximity to the man.

Finished with your task, you headed for the door, sensing Geralt stand from the bed and follow you. You made your way to the kitchen, before puttering around, pulling out various ingredients and dishes to begin making lunch for the two of you. You heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and a body being lowered with a groan. You continued to work, before hearing a “Well?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you observed Geralt watching you with his golden eyes. “Well what?”

“What have you decided about my injuries?” he inquired.

“Oh,” your cheeks flamed, having forgotten what the purpose of the trip to your work room had been for. “They appear to be healing well, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, there was no swelling or excessive redness. You will likely be sore for a couple of days, but I wouldn’t worry about your injuries too much. Just take it easy for a little longer.”

You avoided looking at Geralt, continuing to measure out and add ingredients to your bowl before beginning to mix and then knead the dough with your hands. Silence fell upon the room as you continued to work, rolling the dough out before cutting it into small circles. Once that was done, you picked up a pan, carrying it over to the stove. “Why did you smell my wound earlier?”

Startled, you dropped the pan you were carrying, jumping again when it hit the floor with a bang. “Excuse me?” you asked, whirling to look at the witcher sitting on your kitchen chair. 

“You smelt my side when you were looking at it, in your workroom.” You stared at him, trying to decide if he was playing with you or if he was serious. Deciding he was not trying to make fun of you, you sighed as you bent to pick up the pan and put it on the stove. 

Dropping a spoonful of butter into the pan, you answered the earlier question. “I don’t know, it just felt like something I should have done,” you admitted. “I didn’t actually think about what I was doing until after I had already done it.”

Geralt hummed. “I think your senses are starting to come in.”

Your hands stilled. “My what?”

“Your senses. Once a shapeshifter experiences their first shift, there are certain changes that occur in their human form. They typically follow what your animal form excels at. You heard me muttering earlier, which you wouldn’t have if you had the hearing of a normal human. Smelling the wound comes from your animal side as well.” Geralt explained. “Like I mentioned, I have not come across your kind before so I am not knowledgeable in what changes you will experience, but I would expect it to be fairly similar to myself, wolves and foxes are not too different. I imagine your senses will expand, which they appear to be doing, although the sniffing of the wounds is new.”

You pulled a face as he smirked at you, annoyed at his teasing. His smile faded as he continued. “Most humans don’t like our kind. Unless you trust them, you should never reveal what you are. At best, they will shun you, at worst, they will kill you. They don’t see us as human, instead they believe us to be monsters, only there to be slaughtered. They treat us worse than mages and sorcerers, especially the poorer folk. The myths that follow our kind would have them believe that we are drooling, mindless beasts who hunt them in the dark. We murder and maim, sometimes we steal children from their cradles and replace them with our own, how else would our species exist? We aren’t aware enough to have relationships with each other. There is a lot of discrimination towards us, just be aware of that.”

You had fallen silent at his words, tears beginning to run down your face. You tried to hide them, but the slight shake of your shoulders gave you away. You heard the chair scrape back from the table before a warmth was at your back, arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under a chin. “I am sorry this has happened to you, little fox,” came the murmur above you.

Turning, you tucked your arms underneath Geralt’s, returning the embrace. You laid your head against his chest. “If it had not happened, you would be dead and I would never have met you. As much as this will be hard for me to reconcile with, I am glad that I have met you, at the least.”

Pulling back to look up at him, you asked. “Are there more of your- … our kind?” Geralt’s grip on you tightened, his eyes softening as he looked down at you.

“There are, I think you would like my pack. Perhaps some day, when you are ready, you could meet them.”

You gently pushed at his chest, signalling for him to release you. “I think I would, if they are anything like you.” His grip tightened further, pulling you back into his chest, your chin tucked under his head once again. “Geralt!” you squirmed, trying to free yourself from his embrace. Chuckling, he let you go, catching you when the sudden release made you stumble. Pouting, you smacked his chest before turning back to your stove, flipping the bread just in time before it started to burn.

Fishing the small loaves out of the pan, you placed them on a plate before adding pieces of fresh fruit and dried meat that you had stored in your kitchen, handing them to Geralt. You followed him to the table holding two glasses and a pitcher of water. The two of you ate in a companionable silence, Geralt giving you the time you needed to digest the information that had been dumped on you.

The silence continued as you collected the dishes and left them in your sink to soak, before heading outside with Geralt following you. You began to work in your garden, pulling any weeds that had begun to take root in the few days that you had neglected your garden, occupied with the new revelations about yourself. As you worked, you could sense Geralt settling against the side of your house, regarding you with his golden eyes.

You ignored him, as well as the feelings that bubbled up within you at the domesticity of the situation you were in. You refused to let yourself think about how nice it would be for the two of you to spend your days basking in the sun, attending to your plants, preparing your potions, and just enjoying each other’s company. He will leave soon, you know that, you scolded yourself, he has people to get back to; he mentioned having a pack. 

Some time passed, the sun climbing high above you in the sky overhead. You snuck a glance back at the witcher, only to see him leaning back, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. You giggled to yourself, not having seen him look so relaxed since you had met him.

Closing your eyes, you reached down within yourself, focusing on searching for that well of power. Finding it, you focused on the image of cloth and skin melding into fur, of your body shrinking, your senses sharpening. The somewhat familiar wave of heat surged through you as you felt yourself shift. You slowly became aware of the birds singing, the wind rustling through the trees. You could hear small animals running through the grass, hiding from the wing beats of the birds ahead. You marvelled at all of the new sounds you could hear with your heightened sense, delighted at the new world you were immersed in. You could feel a set of eyes on you, burning you with their gaze as they stared.

Opening your eyes, you could see that Geralt was still resting against the wall. That’s odd, his eyes are closed. Mentally, you shrugged. He must be playing games with me. Two can do that! Sinking to your belly, you slunk your way across the dirt, pausing when you saw his nose crinkle before relaxing once more. As you got closer, you came to the realization that the witcher was dozing. Delighted at this revelation, you got as close to the man as possible before lowering your belly to the dirt. You observed Geralt, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the way that his hair shone pure white in the sun. Gathering yourself, you coiled your muscles in preparation of leaping.

All of a sudden, you felt something tug on your tail. Releasing a screech, you whirled around and pounced, catching and trapping a golden hawk that had been sitting next to your tail. At your screech, Geralt woke with a start, attempting to leap to his feet before stumbling and landing on one knee, staring at you and the hawk in surprise.

You gently closed your teeth around the bird’s neck before carrying your prize over to Geralt and depositing it at his feet, sitting and barking at him with pride. The bird shook itself, fixing you with a glare, before lifting its wings to reveal the harness strapped to its chest. Geralt reached down to detach the small scroll attached to the strap before the bird spread its wings and leapt into the air. As it passed your muzzle you snapped at it, causing the bird to shriek at you, circling and diving at Geralt before taking off over the forest.

Having started once again at the bird diving, Geralt fixed you with a glare, before sighing and sitting back down against the wall, his legs outstretched. You trotted over and climbed into his lap, draping your head over one of his large thighs. As he opened and read the letter, one of his hands found its way into your fur. As he read, his grip tensed, pulling on your fur. Upset at the pressure, you rolled over onto your back and pawed at his stomach before reaching out with your muzzle and trying to grasp the paper between your teeth.

“Stop it,” he chided, looking down at you and releasing his hand from your fur and tapping your muzzle. Disgruntled, you nipped at his fingers before flipping back over to your stomach, pressing as close to the man as you could get. You could feel him tensing more and more as he read the letter; sitting up, you nosed at his arm, silently asking what the matter was.

“It’s from Yennefer, one of my pack. We were searching for someone, someone who was - Fuck.” he swore as he got to the end of the letter. “I have to go, this is why I was in the forest in the first place, looking for this man.”

You whined, laying your head back on his leg, upset at the prospect of him leaving. His hand came down to rest on your back, stroking your fur. “I know, little fox. I know.” The two of you sat there for a while longer before Geralt gently lifted your head from his leg and stood, heading back into the house. You followed him, worried at the hard set of his shoulders. You could see him gathering his belongings, could sense the anxiousness rolling off of him in waves. Determined to find out what was bothering him, what made him need to leave so suddenly, you grabbed one of his dagger sheaths, dragged it away, and sat on it, staring at him with hard eyes.

Sensing your intentions, Geralt sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “The letter was from Yennefer, another member of my pack. We have been searching for a sorcerer, I believed him to be in this forest.” He dropped onto your couch, his head low. After a brief pause, he lifted his face to look at you. “He has been trapping and murdering shapeshifters.”

Call of the Wild taglist: @raspberrydreamclouds @queenxxxsupreme @achievementhunting-archangel @alwayshave-faith @afterthenightprevails @a-door-into-my-mind @msjjekyll @ilovetaquitosmmmm @bloo-moon-freak @theblurplegirl @bastardfruitsandbasil @mathle0matle @agniavateira  @thedevotedwitness @fandoms-and-sunshine @sofiebstar @emiwrites3reads

As you slowly advanced on him, the smile on his face faltered slightly and he started to back away, dropping the bucket as he went. You kept creeping closer, a feral grin appearing on your lips.

“Love? Wha- what are you doing?” He glanced behind him, searching for an escape route.

“I’m just thinking of your health, my dear. You must have taken mad from this heat we’ve been having. Come here, and I will help cool you down.”

At this, Jaskier’s smile dropped and he spun on his heel, taking off across the courtyard where you had been drawing before a rampant demon had decided to upend a bucket of water on you. You gave chase, lifting your skirts and kicking your soaked slippers off so you had traction on the cobblestone. 

Laughter filled the air as you darted after the man, slipping and sliding through the courtyard. As you turned the corner, you ran headfirst into a wall of muscle, falling to the ground before you glanced up to see Geralt looking down at you with a bemused expression on his face, Jaskier peeking out from behind him.

“See? I told you she was after me, you need to protect me Geralt!” Jaskier implored the man, backing away yet again as you struggled to get your feet under you, hampered by your wet skirts.

Geralt didn’t reply, only reaching down to grab you under the elbow and lift you upright, setting you down and stepping out of your way.

You smoothed your hair down, “Thank you Geralt, your help is much appreciated. Now, if you will excuse me, there is a sinister bard that has a cold shower waiting for him.”

The two of you ignored Jaskier’s squawk of indignation, “Why do you help her? Not your oldest friend?”

Geralt glanced back at the bard, “Maybe I like her better.”

You inclined your head and curtsied, laughing when you saw the corners of his lips quirk up. “Thank you, kind sir. Now if you will excuse me, I have some matters to attend to.

You chased after the man, a string of curses turning the air blue around you as he headed for the edge of town, hoping to lose you in the forest.

Dodging tree branches, you finally caught up to Jaskier as he tripped over a tree branch and went down with a thud. You threw yourself onto his back, pinning him to the ground, feeling his body shake with laughter.

You rolled off of him onto your back, staring up at the clouds in the sky. You pointed, “That one looks like a horse, see Jaskier.”

You heard him chuckle to himself. “Leave it to you to get distracted by the clouds, love.”

You elbowed him as he arranged himself next to you, “I don’t get distracted, I’m just biding my time.”

This time he laughed outright, before the two of you fell silent, basking in each other’s company.

After a time, he got to his feet, reaching a hand down to help you up. You tucked your hand into the crook of his arm, following him along a small path back towards the town. As you passed a small river, an idea came to you.

Hiding the smirk on your voice, you asked the man next to you. “Jaskier, do you love me?”

“Of course, sweet, you know this.” He frowned down at you in response to your question.

“Then you don’t mind if I do this?”

“Do wha- woah!”

You had wrapped your hands around his arm before tugging backwards, pulling both of you into the river.

Jaskier came up spluttering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to support the two of you standing in the river.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, darling.” He stared down at you, water trickling down his face.

You shivered at the heat of his gaze. “Revenge is sweet, darling, and its even sweeter when its not expected.”

Jaskier didn’t reply, slowly shifting his hands from where they were holding you at your waist, grabbing beneath your bum to lift you closer to him.

Your eyes flickered from his gaze, down to his lips, and back up. He didn’t miss the motion, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, a moan leaving you at the feeling. He licked into your mouth, swallowing your moan as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, only admiring each other’s bodies, and just being content in each other’s embrace.

**~*~*~*~**

Later that night, after having changed into dry clothes, you and Jaskier lay cuddled together on a blanket, watching the stars go past. You would occasionally point at something in the sky, fascinated by the stars, before allowing your upraised arm to flop to the side onto Jaskier’s chest. He would grin at this and pull you closer, tucking you under his chin.

You fell silent, snuggling closer to the man, shivering slightly at the cold. Jaskier noticed, and sat up briefly to pull another blanket out of the bag you had brought, covering both of you with it. He lay back down, gently tracing random shapes into your back. “I miss moments like this more than anything,” he murmured, “I wish we could just pause time and stay together, in this moment forever.”

You turned your head to place a kiss against his shoulder. “Neither of us would be content. You have a wanderer’s heart, love, you could never stay in one place for too long. And I want to explore, to learn. I don’t want to stay in this town forever, it is too small and nothing ever happens.”

Jaskier glanced down at you, “You could come with us.”

You fell silent, debating the offer. You had always wanted to travel the world, and this was the perfect opportunity.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” you squinted at him, “Geralt wouldn’t mind?”

The man next to you scoffed before sitting up. “You trust me so little? Of course Geralt wouldn’t mind, I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t think he would approve of.”

Sitting up as well, you arched an eyebrow at his statement. “Of course, Jaskier. You would never do anything Geralt didn’t like.” You drawled the statement out, silently laughing as the bar turned pink.

“Never mind that, he doesn’t mind that you are tagging along. I have already asked him and he grunted his approval.”

You stared at him, “I could come?”

“Of course, love.” Jaskier smiled gently.

Shrieking, you threw yourself at him, tackling the bard to the ground as you showered his face with kisses. Grabbing you around the waist, he flipped the two of you, trapping you between his body and the ground as he captured your lips in a slow, heated kiss. “I take it, that's a yes?” he stared down at you with hooded eyes, voice low and husky.

Licking your lips, you slowly nodded. His eyes flashed, before he leaned back down, pressing against you as the two of you lost yourselves to the sound of the night.

**~*~*~*~**

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“That’s it, my love, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Just like this.” Jaskier tried to coach you, demonstrating the breathing the two of you had been practicing in the months leading up to the birth of your child.

“Jaskier, I swear to the gods I will murder you if you keep doing that,” you ground out, teeth gritted against the pain. “You’re never touching me again, if this is what I have to endure for that. You’re not worth it.” Jaskier blanched at your words.

The healer laughed, reassuring Jaskier, “Many mothers say that, don’t worry.” Looking at you, she continued, “I’m just going to check you, my dear, you should be getting close.”

Panting through the end of your contraction, you slowly relaxed back against the headboard. “I hope so, 9 hours of this has got to be enough for the little monster to be ready to come out.”

Jaskier gasped, “Little monster! How could you call our precious child that.” As you swung your head to pierce him with your stare, he frantically backtracked. “Little monster, yes, we can’t wait to meet them.”

As the healer released the blanket covering your legs, she looked up at you and smiled. “Good news, you’re ready to push. The next contraction that you feel, I want you to give it your all. We should be meeting your little one very soon!”

As she finished her words, you could feel the next contraction rolling over you. You crushed Jaskier’s hand, ignoring the pained yelp your husband gave. Leaning back, you panted as the contraction finished, tears rolling down your face. “I’m so tired,” you whimpered, rolling your head to look at Jaskier. 

“I know, my love, I know.” he murmured. “You are doing so well, you are so close.” He reached up, changing the compress on your head before sweeping your sweaty hair away from your face and dropping a kiss on the top of your head.

The next contraction hit, forcing a pained groan out of you. You and Jaskier breathed through it, before you collapsed back against the bed. “I can’t do it,” you cried, “it hurts.” Jaskier gripped your hand, dropping his head to place his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, dropping your head to rest it against his shoulder.

“Ok, up.” the healer said, gesturing at Jaskier. “What?” you almost giggled at your husband’s bewildered face before the next contraction turned the rush of air into a whimper, desperately clutching at his hand. 

“Up and behind her,” the healer continued. “Sit behind her and support her from behind.” Understanding dawning on Jaskier’s face, he helped you lean forward before climbing onto the bed behind you and settling you between his legs, pulling you back to lean against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

He finished moving just as your next contraction hit, you grabbed for his hand, pushing as you panted through the contraction, just as the healer had shown you. “The head is crowning!” the healer exclaimed. She looked up at you, “One or two more good pushes, Y/N, and you’ll be meeting your child.”

As the next contraction hit you, you let out a short shout, pushing as hard as you could. All of a sudden cries filled the room, as the healer lifted the tiny body from between your legs. You collapsed against Jaskier, exhausted but happy as the healer cut the cord and cleaned your new baby. She wrapped the tiny infant in a blanket before approaching you, saying “Jaskier and Y/N, meet your new son.”

You gasped, tears running down your face as you reached for your son, taking him into your arms and leaning back against your husband as you tucked the tiny body against your chest. Jaskier dropped a kiss on your head, reaching around you to brush his fingers against his son’s cheek. You turned your body, passing the tiny boy to your husband, laying a hand on his stomach and just feeling him breathe.

You don’t know how long the two of you sat there, staring at your new child, in awe of what the two of you had made, before your son started crying. As you loosened the top of your robe, you glanced tiredly up at your husband. “Why don’t you go get the others? They can meet him, and then we can rest.” Jaskier passed the boy to you and you settled your son at your breast, allowing him to feed.

“You are sure?” Jaskier examined you, before nodding and gently moving out from behind you, moving towards the door. You returned your gaze to the precious boy in your arms, looking up again as Ciri and Geralt entered the room. Ciri immediately bounced towards you, dropping onto the bed, as she reached out, stopping herself before looking up at you in inquiry. Seeing you nod and smile, she gently brushed her index finger against the boy's palm, giggling when his hand closed around her finger.

“What’s his name?” Ciri asked. You and Jaskier glanced at each other, before you looked over at Geralt, who was hovering by the doorway as Jaskier came to stand next to your bed. “We decided on Nicholas Geralt Pankratz.” Geralt’s eyes were shining with an unnamed emotion. “If that’s ok with you, Geralt.” Jaskier added.

Geralt nodded sharply, but the two of you could tell that he was touched. You beckoned Geralt in, watching as he approached the bed before dropping into a chair next to it. You whispered something to Jaskier, before passing Nicholas to your husband, who stood and made his way over to the man who you had given your child his second name for. Geralt’s face took on a shocked look as Jaskier gently arranged the small boy in his arms, before stepping away.

Slowly, Geralt lifted a hand to brush one finger against the child’s face before touching the palm of the waving hand, a soft smile gracing his face at the antics of the boy in his arms. He looked at the two of you, as you rested against Jaskier, tucked under his arm. “He’s beautiful,” Geralt whispered, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you replied. “It is because of you that we are together again, you gave us the courage to find each other. You have done so much for us, it is only right that we honour that.”

Jaskier smoothed your hair back from your face, before continuing. “We had hoped that you and Ciri would be his godparents.”

Ciri gasped before exclaiming her assent, delighted that she was honoured in such a way, making her way over to the chair that Geralt sat in, perching on the armrest and reaching to set her hand on the baby’s forehead. Geralt slowly nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the baby in his arms. The two of them sat like that until Nicholas’s eyes started to close. Geralt carefully passed the baby to Ciri who walked to the two new parents.

You and Jaskier settled on the bed, Jaskier sitting against the headboard and you settled on your side between his legs. Ciri passed the baby to your husband, smiling and leaving the room with Geralt following. Your eyes slowly drifted shut as you could hear Jaskier murmuring quietly to the baby in his arms, content that your little family of four had grown to five.

**~*~*~*~**