“I Love You 3000”

Geralt: Always am.

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: None really, hints at smut but no nsfw in this piece.

Request: Hey could you possibly do a geralt request where he saves and falls for a girl who is set to be killed cause the mayor of a town deems her a monster. She has powers to be able to control the elements. She's not a monster but part of a race that was wiped out. Maybe marks glow on her skin depending on what elements she uses

Summary: Y/N has lived most of her years captive inside the castle due to her magical abilities. Being treated as an experiment, over time her anger builds up. One night a storm rips through the town she resides in and the mayor is furious. Before she could meet her demise, she fell suddenly unconscious. Only in the morning would she realize what and who had spared her that night, saving her life. The two decide together to go on a journey to help discover who y/n truly is.

A/N: This is probabaly one of the most elaborate pieces I’ve written. It took me entirely too long to write it but I’m so glad because I’m just in love with the final results. I tried to get as accurate as I could to the request which I believe I did though I didn’t include markings which I envision would be a crackling turquoise glow as her emotions overwhelm her. So use your imagination as you will. Also, if you think Geralt talks to much, he just might if you’re basing this off the show. I’ve seen the show and have been reading the books and Geralt talks far more than what he does in the show so please don’t take it as out of character, it is very much in his nature to talk. Anyways without further adue ... A Lover from the Unknown.

You sat in the corner of your room rocking back and forth with your knees pressed against your chest, slowly becoming more panicked as the thunder broke against the roof in a loud bang. You knew this was all your fault, attempting to stand to your feet, you gazed out of your window, the whole town was being ripped to shreds. Rain hit the ground furiously, each drop setting a new fire. The tavern was completely destroyed and fires were raging in the distant neighborhoods, clouding the night sky with soot.

You were to blame for this chaos, unsure of what you were and with nobody to guide you, your anger had disturbed nature’s balance. It was your doing but not your fault, after all you rarely saw anybody but your own reflection. With little interaction with any other humans aside from the guards who would bring you your meals, it’s understandable why you would be enraged. You had been held in the castle for far too long, a prisoner to the Queen. As she ordered her servants to poke at you, as if you were a guinea pig, as if you were a freak, you grew more and more angry by the day. Previous to this event, you had summoned wind storms, manifested tornadoes and sinkholes but the day you made hail come down the size of boulders, they had to force an elixir down your throat, one that left you in a trance for days. But this—this storm was much different than the last.

Suddenly, the doors to your room flew open abruptly. Two men, both of them head to toe in a suit of armor came rushing in, demanding you to come with them.

“What?” Your eyes widened, “No please!” You cried as they grabbed your arms dragging you from your bedroom.

“Foolish girl, what have you done?” They muttered, pulling you along the castle halls.

“I don’t understand!” You cried, “You have to help me please.”

The guards said nothing, pushing through the doors of the tower, revealing a smoke littered atmosphere. You could make out the sounds of townsfolk screaming as the fires spread, their screams pierced the night air from miles away. Horses trotting through the ruins made horrific sounds as you were thrown to your knees. Your flesh slid across the dirt, causing you to wince in pain.

Slowly, footsteps made their way towards you, sloshing in the sludge of the dirt. You, sure that you would face your demise right then, hesitated to look at who stood above you. In your gut you knew, it was the mayor. He had been the mayor in this town for quite some time and despised of creatures who possessed magical abilities. You’d come to face him before and his threat, his penalty he’d deliver was far worse than being prisoner.

“Pitiful girl, what have you done to my town?” He yelled, crouching down beside you. “I spared your life once before, I won’t make that mistake again!”

You whimpered, tilting your head up slowly to meet wicked eyes. He was furious and veins showed clear through his forehead. “Get her up, onto the horse will you?” He phrased his command as a question to the guards but it was perfectly understood that it was a demand. That if they didn’t pick you up and place you on the horse that second, they’d be subjected to your fate as well.

You squirmed as the men complied, throwing you on top of the horse. At this moment, a lightning bolt shot from the sky, frying the men in their metal gear. You let out a scream, horrified as they dropped to the dirt. Simultaneously thunder cracked through the air once again, a demonic rumble. The horses kicked the dirt, terrified but obedient. Your hair blew violently in the storm watching the mayor struggle to his horse. He called out to you, a string of curses that you couldn’t make out. Your arms wrapped around the mare as if they would protect you from your own doings. Confusion grew on you as you smelt in the air lavender, chamomile and a powerful mixture that surely was a magical concoction. The mayor gripped the dirt, on all fours as he continued to make it to his horse. Your eyes grew heavy, starting to flutter shut. As your body grew calm, the storm eased and your hair blew gently in the fall night. Just before your eyes shut for good, you saw a man approach the mayor and in a swift movement, his elbow collided with the mayors crooked nose and he fell unconscious as did you.

When you awoke, the smell of the earth was so pungent you could nearly taste it. Immediately you sat up, glancing around the rather dingy, colorless inn. You were laid not on a bed, in fact there were no beds in the room, only a cot, one which appeared old and unclean. You stood up, the floorboards creaking beneath you, a deafening sound. The sun was starting to rise and gleamed through the broken window, dimly lighting the room. Where in the hell were you? You recalled the storm from the previous night, one you had caused surely. You remembered the mayor threatening your execution, a threat he would have surely followed up on. A man who emerged from seemingly nowhere and then—.

A tall figure entered the door to your room, closing it behind him.

“You’re awake.” He murmured, walking over to his bag to store something away.

You didn’t feel frightened but confused, “Where the hell am I?” You asked the white haired fellow.

He answered, still turned away from you, “Maybe the question you should be asking yourself is ‘What the hell am I’.”

“Oh yes, you’re probably right,” you pondered sarcastically, “stranger who kidnapped me!”

“Kidnapping? Ive been accused of worse.” He grunted, shifting his body to face you.

You sighed, walking back to the cot to sit down. “Who are you?”

“You first, what are you?” He pestered.

“Me first? What are you, a child?” You scoffed, but gave in to him, “I’ve been asking myself that question for years, I’ve got only a sliver of an idea. I know I can make the ground beneath me crumble and swallow us whole, that I can create storms of dust and pull lighting out of a clear blue sky. But I don’t know why I can do that, I don’t know what I am and I’ve only ever been prodded at.”

After a moment of silence, the man spoke again, “I’m Geralt of Rivia, a witcher.”

You were surprised by this but like him, showed no reaction to what you were told.

“Okay, Geralt of Rivia, you’re a witcher so tell me why did you save a monster?” You asked quietly.

“You think you’re a monster?”

“Everyone does, I’ve hurt people and that sounds monstrous to me.”

“Hmm.” The witcher grunted, unsure of what to say.

“What do you think I am?” You asked, staring at your feet.

“Talkative.” He teased.

You grinned and the two of you sat in silence for a while, watching as the sun finally rise, lighting the entire room. Why he had brought you here you had no idea, most likely it was the safest place for miles. You hadn’t been outside the town in nearly a decade, held captive inside the castle. If you could’ve brought that castle down you would’ve but the Queen had it enchanted so no magic, not even your own could effect the tower.

“Teach me.” You blurted, “Teach me to control my magic.”

“I wouldn’t know how to teach you.”

“Says who?”

“History,” Geralt said turning his head away from you. “Any more questions out of you and my ears might just bleed.”

“Then I’d be the one taking care of you,” you teased, “and surely you wouldn’t want that.”

You stood up, walking over to the white-haired man, his eyes the color of the sun. You didn’t realize how good looking he was but it was clearer than ever in the light of the early sun.

“And I’m not asking you, I know you will aid me just as you already have.”

He peered down at you, an annoyed yet intrigued expression. He was impressed by your persistence.

“So,” you said, running your fingers over his chest. “Have you a lady or can I repay you for this lovely debt?”

“I have no one and you owe me nothing.” He never broke eye contact with you and neither did you, which surprised him as most women struggled to keep his gaze.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done for me, truly.” You trailed your fingers up his chest, wrapping a hand behind his neck. “And you look just as broken as me so I insist.”

You pulled him in closer, leaning forwards to kiss him, gently. His lips moved in sync with yours as his hand moved to the small of your back. His lips were soft and his touch was nostalgic for you. You failed to remember the last time anyone wrapped their arms around your waist and so you soaked in every moment of his touch.

He broke the kiss, staring down at you, “What is it with women and magic?”

This was an odd statement, but verified you were not the only magic woman he had come across. Ignoring it, you felt him grip the back of your thighs, lifting you up on his waist and in response you wrapped your legs around him. He backed you against the wall, laying kisses along your neck and jawline. With a tug of your dress, he managed to remove it all while still pinning you to the wall. His eyes gazed over you hungrily, a bright yellow of which you never questioned.

After moments of pleasure and curses echoing the room had come to a stop, you felt yourself stand on your feet again, pulling your dress over your shoulders. The witcher stood in front of you, pulling his clothing down over his torso and fastening his pants. You remained in silence, glancing out the windows to seem occupied. You didn’t notice the witcher still staring at you and the marks on your neck that he left.

“Don’t let anybody tell you what you are,” he spoke, “A monster, a coward, a sex symbol or a fucking gnome, those names are nothing if you know your worth.”

You gazed at the witcher, blushing at his words. But something about him told you he wasn’t practicing what he preached. He carried himself with pride but his aura said something entirely different, that he was caught between embracing who he was and despising his own kind. You could see the world had made him feel that way, that witchers are to be spited.

“Do you?” You questioned, staring intensely at Geralt trying to get a read on him.

“Hmm,” He muttered, ignoring the question. “I’ve never seen anyone with your abilities and I’ve seen almost everything there is to see.”

“Yes, well I’ve heard several variations, you know the first being I’m a monster and brought to this Earth by the need for a balance between good and evil, I’m clearly the latter. Another says I’m a mutant, though there aren’t mutants like me as far as I’ve seen. Lastly, the mayor who sought after my death believed I stemmed from a line of ancient gods and goddesses who were thought to be mythical but he insisted they were real and that my bloodline is that of theirs. I don’t know if I believe that as those gods would’ve long been dead before my birth.”

The witcher analyzed every word you said and wasn’t phased by the mention of gods and goddesses. “I don’t know if any of those variations are true but I know a trusted bard who does his research.”

“Where might this bard reside?” You jumped excitedly, smiling broadly as you were excited by the thought you would finally find out who you are. At this same time your excitement bubbled up, the wind began to pick up outside and a strong breeze came through the shattered window, occupying the room.

“Hey,” Geralt spoke loudly over the wind, noticing it was your excitement which initiated the sudden breeze. “I don’t know for certain if he will be of help but it’s worthy to note your magic is tied to your emotions.” He walked over to you, placing his hands on either sides of your shoulders, staring down into your hopeful eyes. His touch was calming and your adrenaline settled inside of you and thus the wind came to a slow. Geralt observed this and interpreted that you had connected him as an anchor. His face suddenly softened and you hadn’t seen this expression on the witcher yet.

“Come on,” Geralt said, grabbing his bag from the floor, “before you blow the inn away.”

You followed him out the door of the inn and into the outdoors, where the odor of the musky inn didn’t follow and instead was replaced by the scent of Lilly flowers and petrichor, both of which you hadn’t smelt in ages. A lovely mare stood outside, the sun reflecting of its coat beautifully.

“Roach, this is—“ Geralt paused, embarrassed he had never got your name.

“Y/n.” You chuckled at the fact of him talking to his horse. “Roach? For a mare?”

“A pretty name like Y/n for a monster?” He said jokingly, annoyed by your commentary. You let him slide, laughing at the witcher.

“A jester I see, lets get going shall we?” You suggested, letting him mount himself on top the horse. He offered a hand out to you which you accepted, climbing atop the horse.

13.22 Exodus