#the witcher reader inserts

  Finally, Jaskier arrived on the scene with an exhausted, red face and sweat pooling in the dips of his face. He panted, gripping to a tree and holding his cramping side before yelling, “Fear not, my lady! Geralt of Rivia is here to save you!”

 The woman’s brain seemed to take pause. Her expression froze, and her eyes focused on the features of the witcher. Suddenly, the creature behind her screamed again, barely managing to steal her attention as it smacked the ground with its feet and pranced around in a tight circle just to face her again with its head lowered and a mighty glare in its eye.

  “Geralt of Rivia? The witcher?” She asked, connecting eyes with the man. “You get back, now!”

 “Yes, that’s right, Geralt the White Wolf! Here to save- wait, what?” Jaskier shouted between laboured breaths from his slow sprint.

 “I said get back-!” The woman’s yell was cut off when the griffin reared back onto it’s strong hind legs, bringing its claws down on the woman’s shoulder. She made no cry of agony, instead simply stumbled to the ground with her face twisted in pain before quickly stumbling back to her feet, whipping around to the beast. Once again, she put her arms up in an attempt to calm the creature.

  Geralt looked at the wound on her shoulder- it was deep and fresh although it was short and narrow, and scarlet blood dripped down her cloth dress, probably staining it. He was taken aback when the woman started speaking elder to the beast, moving to continually stay in front of the griffin’s face. Her eyes were focused on the creature, and her fingers outstretched. Although Geralt did not know her plan, he could clearly see she knew what she was doing through the intent in her careful measures. The sweat and blood that dripped down her flesh did nothing to stop the wise, focused narrow of her eyes.

  The griffin stomped its foot and kicked dirt and dead leaves up into the air, grunting at the woman’s actions. It’s tail came to a stopper, and finally, it lowered its head as if it was ashamed. A small noise left the griffin, and it took a small step forward towards the human in front of it.

    With a tired sigh, the woman stepped forward, setting her hands on the creature’s beak to pill its face up to hers before reaching back and scratching behind its skull as if it were a mere puppy.

  “Are you done with your tantrum now, you silly creature?” She asked as the griffin snuggled into the palm of her hand with its beak and all but apologised with a coo and flick of its tail.

  “Alright- I’m sorry- what?” Jaskier interrupted the moment with no hesitation, exchanging an estranged look with Geralt whose body stood as still as marble.

  Suddenly, the woman turned on her heel, a sharp glare in her eyes, “I have everything under control.”

 “Yes, I can see that through your wounds,” Geralt was quick to reply, but his face dripped with his hesitation and awe as he sheathed his sword. His eyes scanned her movements, studying her body language all the while eyeing the creature behind her with loosely concealed suspicion. The woman’s reply, however, was a huff and a more sturdy glare before she turned away from him.

  She put her hand to the beast before her, gently leading the griffin by its beak away from the clearing, “Please, leave the forest. The last thing I need in these woods is an armed witcher.”

 Poor Jaskier was stunned as he watched the woman go and absorbed her words. His brain seemed to lag behind, eyes catching on the creature flicking its tail and adjusting its strangely-bent wings as it followed her. Eyes never leaving the strange pair of beast and woman, he stumbled forward to Geralt, gripping onto his armoured shoulder. Jaskier peeked at Geralt’s face, and quickly found himself relieved as he spotted the same astonishment he felt.

  “What in the hell just happened?” Jaskier asked, glancing back at the woman and Griffin's disappearing forms before gluing his eyes back to Geralt.

  Geralt grunted as his brows furrowed. A frown grew on his face, and without a word to Jaskier he started after the strange young woman.

  “I don’t know,” He admitted after making it halfway across the clearing, branches crunching beneath his foot. Jaskier quickly chased after him, his lute smacking against his back and creating all sorts of noises just as before

Thump, thump, thump.

  The woman had to know she was being followed- and yet, she made no moves to confront the men about their actions. The pair followed the griffin and the young woman through the woods, slowly growing closer and closer to the woman and her beast as the walk dragged on.

  Jaskier startled when a roar echoed through the trees- a roar that could not have come from the griffin. Worried, he shot a glance to the witcher in front of him who marched on with determination.

  “You should turn back now,” The young woman’s voice suddenly called, grabbing their attention. She stopped walking, turning to look at the two as the griffin continued on past her with another flick of its tail. The young woman’s eyes were sharp as they met Geralt’s, a challenge in both their eyes. Geralt said nothing as he watched her, walking until he stood before her.

  “I really don’t trust you,” She stated calmly, cautiously continuing to challenge Geralt with her eyes. Showing care with his actions, Geralt reached forward, gently taking her arm and carefully observing the bloody, torn flesh.

  “This requires attention, as does your shoulder,” He deflected her statement, eyes turning back to meet hers.

  “And these wounds will get what they need,” The young woman stole her arm back, moving away from the man and walking after the griffin. Both the men followed after her once again, Geralt more at ease than before.

  “What’s your name, my lady?” Jaskier asked, trotting to catch up with Geralt and the woman. The woman barely got a few strides across the forest floor before Jaskier continued to pester her.

 “Did you hear me, my lady?” He inquired, stepping on a branch and stumbling, before catching himself on Geralt’s armour and earning a glare.

 Jaskier straightened himself up while his cheeks turned red, shifting his shirt to boost his confidence before gaining the courage to once again ask, “My lady?”

  “For heaven's sake,” The young woman groaned. “My name is (Y/n).”

  “Ah-! (Y/n)- what a wonderful name for a- for a- Wonderful? Strange? Oh, for a woman,” Jaskier tripped over his words, not sure if adding “wonderful” or “strange” before “woman” was the right course of action. “My name is Jaskier, the bard who travels with Geralt of-” Jaskier was cut off by another, more fierce roar. The young woman paused, before picking up her pace and rushing across the forest floor to the source of the noise.

  A cabin came into view, and very quickly, the trio arrived at their apparent destination. A ramshackle, poorly cared for cabin stood before them. Overgrown bushes of beautiful, large flowers and sprawling, deep green leaves grew all over the house. There was a window with a single, broken, wooden shutter and a strange little creature peeking out of it. As Geralt’s stare deepened on the animal’s form, it disappeared into the cabin.

  (Y/n) hurried towards the dilapidated structure, grabbing a handful of large, bright flowers and yanking until their vines and bushes gave way. Clutching many of the bright flowers in her hand, she wiggled past the griffin from before, who stood in the doorway of the cabin and flicked its tail as it had many times before.

  Geralt and Jaskier exchanged looks once again, before approaching the cabin. Geralt was first to enter, feeling uneasy as he squeezed himself by the griffin and into the cottage with a thoroughly annoyed huff. Jaskier followed, wiggling like a madman by the griffin who turned to give the bard a strange look.

  “Oh, dear lord,” Jaskier mumbled with a nervous chuckle, grimacing as he looked the griffin in the eye. In front of him, Geralt scowled at Jaskier’s antics, before turning to gaze at the young woman’s actions.

  She stood in front of a messy, wooden table, before holding the flowers up and placing her injured arm on the table, placing two of the flowers on the wound. Her other hand groped around to find herbs, reading the labels before lazily shoving them in her mouth and chomping them up. Once a fine paste was made, she took it and smeared it into her wounds underneath the petals of the flowers. Finally, she glanced back at Geralt and Jaskier almost nervously. She took a breath and sighed, before muttering enchantments in elder.

  Geralt’s stare deepened on the torn flesh of her arm as it began to stitch itself back together beneath the petals and herbs. Some of the fresh blood and paste were sucked back into her body, and soon enough, a few scars and dead flowers were all that was left.

 “You’re a mage!” Jaskier practically shouted, before (Y/n) raised a hand to silence the man. She turned to speak to them, but another woman burst into the room holding the strange creature from the window before.

  “(Y/n)! The wyvern eggs are hatching!” The woman shouted, the creature in her arms squeaking in distress. Immediately, (Y/n) bolted up, rushing towards the door.

  “Quick! We need to imprint on them-” She shouted, shoving past the newcomer.

  Very quickly, Geralt took a step forward, intending to pursue the women as the newcomer took off after (Y/n), “Your shoulder-”

  “-can wait! This takes priority. Stay there, witcher!” She shouted, voice raising as she disappeared into a new room. Geralt, however, was quick to ignore her instructions as he followed her into the dusty room.

  Jaskier glanced back at the griffin, connecting eyes with it and frowning before awkwardly prancing after the women. He shoved past Geralt to get a good view- finding (Y/n) with her face barely hovering over a short, woven basket with eggs shining like emeralds.

  The eggs were cracked, and cracking open even further. There was a little beak peeking out from one of the eggs, pearly white and fresh to the world.

  “Megean, don’t you want to imprint on them as well?” (Y/n) asked, barely glancing back at her companion.

  She didn’t catch the shake of Megean’s head, instead barely replying after Megean replied, “I can help you care for the creatures, but dealing with them is your job.”

  “As you wish,” (Y/n) replied, barely acknowledging the reply before finally: “Ah, there’s a little eye.”

  Geralt and Jaskier held their breaths as suddenly, the eggs top cracked open, and a leathery wing shoved its way through. Jaskier’s mouth dropped open as finally, the baby wyvern was born.

  “You mean to imprint on these creatures?” Geralt’s voice suddenly rumbled in the quiet, eyeing the newborn skeptically. “They’re solitary animals.”

  (Y/n) nodded gently, head never turning away from the hatching creatures, “I’m well aware. But when they’re young, it’s the best time to trump their nasty little attitudes. Getting them used to my scent and appearance should prove valuable to the process.”

  Geralt’s brows furrowed, and he glanced up to meet the eyes of Megean. She smiled comfortingly at the man, before laying the pig-like creature in her arms on the ground. Immediately, it scuttled out the door without a care.

  “We care for beasts of all kinds, rescuing them and bringing them here. It’s a family affair- my brother finds the creatures we can rescue and brings them here. (Y/n) is our cousin- she bonds with them, heals them, and then does most of the care for them. I’ve never seen a passion like hers before,” Megean explained earnestly, keeping eye contact with Geralt as she wiped her sweaty palms on her worn dress.

  “A passion to care for dangerous beasts with… fangs, and the like?” Jaskier questioned, his face taken up by an odd expression.

  Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t even noticed the other eggs had hatched as (Y/n) slowly stood to her feet, cradling a small wyvern in her arms as she spoke up, “That’s one way to put it.”

  Geralt’s eyes were drawn to a speck of scarlet- once again, there was a fresh wound on the young woman. A small nick on the hand that gently supported the creatures front- apparently, it hadn’t wanted to be picked up.

  “I can’t imagine the scars,” Jaskier seemed to notice too, and with his rude comment earned a kick to his heel from Geralt. The simple kick nearly sent the bard toppling to the ground with a sharp yipe.

  Luckily, a loud, long roar distracted both the young women from the bard’s comment.

  “The manticore,” Both Megean and (Y/n) muttered and exchanged a look, before (Y/n) hastily handed off the perturbed newborn wyvern to her cousin. Megean looked as if she would protest upon nearly receiving a bite, but when the creature was already in her arms, she seemed to give up and allowed (Y/n) to escape from her reach.

  (Y/n) squeezed past the men, patting the griffin on the neck as she moved past it once again. It hardly seemed to care, flicking its tail and sighing as if it were human. If only it could express itself with more than a flick of its tail, it would be a happier creature.

  Another angered roar echoed through the cabin as Geralt and Jaskier finally escaped it. They promptly followed after (Y/n), Geralt in particular looking as if he was going to tackle the woman as he marched after her with his jaw rolling.

  “A manticore? Are you insane? It could kill you in one jab of its tail!” Geralt seethed, trying to get his point across to the young woman as she marched over to a barn past multiple bird-like and serpent-like creatures who basked in the sun between the leaves of the forest.

  Jaskier seemed to have horrible luck this day, seeing as he stepped on one beast’s tail and earned himself a nip on the behind. He yelped and turned around to give the animal a piece of his mind, forgetting the situation with the young woman.

    “Yes, well, better not piss it off then,” (Y/n) replied to Geralt, opening the barn’s door. Immediately, another roar and a hiss became more prominent, and suddenly both Geralt and (Y/n) were trampled to the ground. The manticore rushed out into the open air, and Geralt threw himself to his feet, grabbing his sword.

    “Don’t you dare!” (Y/n) quickly screamed as she rolled to her stomach in the dirt. “He just gets excited!”

    Geralt glanced down at the woman, sword already gripped tightly in his hand before the manticore had already pranced several yards ahead of them. His posture was tense, and he widened his stance as his eyes focused back on the creature as his teeth ground together.

    The manticore, however, wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the witcher. It spun once in a patch of sunlight, stretching forward on its front legs with its rump in the air as its scorpion tail uncurled and shook with the effort of the stretch. A deep throated yawn left the creature’s chest, and it suddenly settled onto the ground in the sunlight.

    “Are you kidding me?” Jaskier, who had watched the small scene from afar stood with his hands on his hips, brows furrowed, and jaw gaping open.