“The witchers adapted the spell, making use of the fact that it does not require knowledge of a magical formula—concentration and the gesture are enough. That’s why they call it a Sign.”
pairing: Geralt of Rivia & blackfem!reader x Pero Tovar
warnings: Geralt being fine as fuck. Some supernatural shit. What am i saying, this is literally a fantasy fic.
a/n: since the arrival of the first Witcher novel and the upcoming season, I've been deep in my Witcher feels. I've got a sense of how I want this fic to go so I'm very excited to write it out and share it with you all! As always, enjoy :)
The ride to Bellfort was an uneventful one. The three of you rode quickly and quietly through the dark night. The tiny Elfen settlement welcomed you all with open arms, setting you up with the last two rooms they could spare at the local Inn. You glance between the two men, brows going up as sleeping arrangements needed to be made.
“I sleep alone.” was all that Tovar said and was the end of the conversation. You shrug, trudging tiredly to the awaiting bed. Geralt follows closely behind you, watching as Tovar all but slams the door to the room next to yours.
The Innkeeper was nice enough to have hot water sent up to your room to bathe with, you were covered in dust and grime. Geralt plops on the bed, untying his boots as you start to strip out of your riding clothes.
“Where are we going to go?” you ask quietly, still unsure about the plan Geralt had.
“There is someone I know who I believe can help you harness your powers.” he answers, grunting as he fights to remove his boot.
“Another mage?”
“Yes.”
You hum, which turns into a hiss as you step into the water. You get over the ache and submerge yourself fully, blowing bubbles under the water before you resurface. Geralt turns his head as soon as your chest pops out and he snaps his head away from you, a slight blush creeping over his face.
“Oh,” you tease, slinking down in the water until it reaches your chin. “You have a girlfriend.”
Geralt shakes his head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Bullshit.”
Finally getting his boots off, Geralt slips his shirt over his head, muscles glistening with sweat under the candle light.
“Are you almost finished?” he sighs, undoing the button on his pants.
“I just got in.” you pout, shaking your head, allowing water droplets to fly all around you. You reach for a few of the oils left by the tub, plucking a bottle and dousing its contents over your head. You wash your hair liberally, moaning a little at the sensation. “You are free to join me. The water will get cold soon.”
Geralt thinks on it and relents. You twirl around facing away from him as he removes the rest of his clothing and gets into the tub, sitting opposite of you. You use the now empty bottle to hold water in, pouring it through your hair to rinse it. Geralt observes you carefully, an amusing smile pulling at his lips.
“What?”
“You have some soap..” he points to his upper lip. You giggle and wipe a hand across your face.
“So, tell me about your girlfriend.”
Geralt grins, grabbing the cloth from beside the oils and dipping it into the water so that he could begin to wash himself. “She is not my girlfriend but her name is Yennifer.”
You cease your movements, mouth dropping. “The Yennifer of Vengerberg is your girlfriend?”
“You know her?”
You nod, barely containing your grin. “Many have heard about the illustrious Yennifer of Vengerberg. Of course you end up with her,” you duck your head under the water once more. “She’s pretty.”
“She is. I figure that you’ll be safer with her.”
You don’t say anything as you rise from the tub and Geralt clears his throat as he looks away from your bare body. “Well, I hope you aren’t someone who snores, Geralt of Rivia. Yennifer may tolerate it but I do not.”
. . . . . . . .
You toss and turn in your sleep, frustrated at how hot the room seemed to get. You were sure that Geralt was the cause of it, the man was a walking furnace. You sigh as you sit up on the bed, looking behind you to make sure you hadn’t disturbed your bed mate. Geralt sleeps peacefully, mouth agape a bit as he breathes evenly.
You envy him, wishing you could get an ounce of slumber before continuing your journey come day break.
You roll your neck, closing your eyes and moaning at how good it felt when you heard a small voice calling out your name. It was a light voice, seemingly belonging to a woman.
You sit still and listen for more.
The voice sounds off again, this time coming from the window to the room. You squint your eyes to get a better glimpse and watch as a figure vanishes from sight.
You grab a robe and dart out the door to follow the peeking fellow. Surely if someone was calling out your name, it meant that Nilfgaard was a lot closer than you thought.
You circle the Inn, not finding a trace of someone being around beside a local drunkard asleep near the stables. Perhaps you were sleepwalking? It’s likely. You shrug your shoulders and turn to head back to bed when you see her.
Your mother.
In the flesh.
“..mom?” you whisper.
She stares at you for a moment, turning on her heel and walking toward the wooded area. Without a single thought, you follow her.
“Mom! Please, wait!” you cry out, gathering your robe and nightgown in your hands so you could run easily. Your mother keeps a steady pace, not once acknowledging you.
When you venture deep enough, she stops.
“Mom, what are you doing here? How did you find me?”
She smiles as she reaches out to touch your cheek. “My child.”
You grasp her hand, drawing it in for a kiss. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“I have come back to guide you.” she says. “Your power is growing and you are not yet ready to utilize it’s full potential.”
“The Nilfgaardians, they want to use me as a weapon. Geralt says he can take me to see Yennifer and that she could help me contain this.”
Your mother nods, breaking eye contact. “You and Geralt have met for a reason, it is important that you keep his company.”
“Yes, mother.”
“You must be careful, my dear. As the days pass, your powers grow stronger. If you do not learn to harness it, it will consume you.”
Your mother releases your hand, backing away from you slowly. You try to follow but she shakes her head. “I have to leave you now. Remember what I have told you.”
You begin to cry and your body shakes uncontrollably. “Don’t go, please, mom. I’m so sorry, I love you, please help me-”
“I tried my best to help you in this life but I failed. You have to save yourself.”
She vanishes.
You continue to shiver, body damn near convulsing as you let out a piercing scream. The white light returns and then it goes dark.
Back at the Inn, Geralt’s eyes snap open.
. . . . . . . .
“Amigo, she is over here!” Pero yells out, stepping over fallen branches to get to you.
You lay curled up in a fetal position, whimpering delicately. You did not know exactly how much damage you caused but from the smell of the rotting animal flesh, you knew it was enough. The entire area around you had been uprooted, as if a giant came tumbling through and ripped everything from out of the ground.
Pero is cautious as he approaches you, poking at your body with his finger before bending down to scoop you up in his arms.
Geralt surveys the scene, exhaling through his nose. “Fuck.”
You cry harder as Pero carries you back to the horses, whispering things to you in his native tongue.
“It is ok, I am here. I’ve got you.”
You bury your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. He leaves a small kiss on your head, ignoring Geralt’s judgemental stare.
For your 1k celebration: “You’ll always have a home here.” with Geralt, please? Congratulations again! 💙
Hello Abigail! Thank you for requesting this - it’s right on time because the first witcher novel i bought finally came in ❤️ using some inspiration from Shirley Jackson’s the lottery. I know you probably were hoping for something else so I’m praying that this still satisfies you!
Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death and monsters. Geralt is actually a softie. No beta, we die like men.
You were going to die.
You were sure of it.
The rope burns your wrist the more you tug at it and it was no use trying to get out of the restrains that held your feet together.
You were trapped, hopeless, and honestly? Pretty fucking pissed off.
You should’ve seen it coming. The town you lived in was a bit peculiar when it came to rituals and traditions. You had grown up experiencing odd phenomena but not once did you think it would ever happen to you. Not now, anyhow.
When you were younger it all seemed like apart of a fairytale, you cooed at the tales your mother whispered to you at night. It became a nightmare when she fell victim to it.
After her death, you vowed to escape. You plotted for months, slowly working up the courage to hit the ground running. You executed it perfectly until one of the guardsmen keeping watch of the perimeter was not at his assigned post, throwing you off guard and leaving you to improvise.
You were able to overpower two of the men but the third proved to be stronger.
“Nobody leaves the Dune.” He sneers as he drags you back to the temple. You were imprisoned for the rest of the night, awaiting your punishment. When others tried to flee the Dune, normally it would result in a public beating of some sort. That you could deal with but as time went on, the punishments became..deadly.
They call it the Great Offering. The things your mother use to tell you about the surrounding area, faes and dueling wizards, was enchanting. The reality was far more menacing. A creatures stalked the town, waiting for the lucky few who did escape to trek through its territory, providing it food.
The Caveling was a nocturnal beast, feasting off the flesh of anything that crossed it. It especially sought out humans, something about the blood enhancing its abilities. The Caveling has raided towns before but as time passes, humans became smarter and created better defense systems.
You understood why you weren’t just tossed into the woods last night, you needed to be publicly denounced before you were sent off to be killed. You didn’t beg for you life, instead spitting at the head of the town.
He shakes his head, patting yours. “Naughty girl.”
Your brother cried when it was announced that instead of the great offering, you were going to be a sacrifice for the Caveling. It was a fucked up thing, offering the Caveling a member of the town every three months to get an attack at bay.
You were commended for your brave spirit and thanked for your sacrifice to spare someone else.
And now you were here. Alone in the Forrest and tied to a tree.
You rub your hand up and down the tree trunk, creating enough friction that causes the rope to become weak and break loose. You work quickly to get your feet free, freezing when you heard a shift in the clearing next to you.
The Caveling likes to play with it’s food, you read and you held your breath as it circles around you. Slowly, you untie your feet, preparing yourself to run. You would not wait until the creature sprang forward.
It’s a tense stand-off, you eyeing the Caveling with wonder. You clench your fist, counting down from three in your head, and took off. The Caveling was probably laughing at you and watched you run for a short distance before it decided enough was enough.
The ground pounds beneath you and you scream, pushing your lungs to work harder. As the Caveling jumps, you briefly hear the sound of a sword unsheathing and duck behind a bush.
You watch as a white haired man sloppily cuts at the Caveling, the two engaged in a bloody battle. The stranger wins, wiping the excess goo from the creature off his face. He turns to you and you scramble away, unsure of his motives.
“Come on, it smells like shit out here.” was all he said before stalking off the way he came. You knew the scent of the decaying Caveling would encourage more to come so you did as you were told.
After situating you on his horse, the man climbs in behind you.
After a tense few minutes of riding, you could feel the tension roll off his shoulders.
“My name is Geralt.”
. . . . . .
You washed yourself and your clothes as best you could, allowing it to air dry for the time being. Geralt was still asleep and you were sure he was going to drop you off at some random town soon.
You made yourself useful, scrubbing at his clothes as well and cleaning his sword. You fold his clothes neatly, setting beside his boots on the floor.
After your clothes dry down a bit, you head downstairs of the Inn to purchase some food, bringing it back up to the room. Geralt has awaken and was washing his face.
“You touched my sword.”
You nod, lowering your head as you speak. “I cleaned your clothes and your sword. I apologize, i mean no harm.”
“Thank you.”
You set down the tray and offer him some of the tasty treats you managed to snag. “I brought breakfast. I got one of everything, i didn’t know what would suit you.”
Geralt hums, taking a look back at the food. “Everything looks good.”
You prepare it as best you could, eating in silence.
“I suppose now I must find my own way.” You say around a mouthful of bread. “You are a Witcher. You must be high in demand.”
“I am.”
“Well, I thank you for saving me. I’ll be on my way then.” You stand up, dusting off your skirts.
“Nonsense. You won’t last a day here, you’ll continue to ride with me.”
You did. The journey was a long and tiresome one but you two finally come across another settlement, hidden deep in the mountains. You gawk at the people walking around notice something. They were all wearing the same necklace as Geralt. They were all Witchers.
You shake your head as you slide of the horse, named Roach, and look to Geralt. “I can’t stay here, i would serve no purpose. I am indebted to you and i assure you I plan to repay you but I am more than capable of taking care of myself elsewhere.
Geralt laughs and you think it’s beautiful. “You may do as you so shall please but i just want you to know that you’ll always have a home here.”
You try to keep your tears at bay. “Why are you doing this? I am no one in particular-“
“We all deserve a home.” He gestures out to the others. “Some of them were like you. Fate had us meet at the right place, right time.”
You find yourself grinning. “Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it?”
Okay 1) I don’t think that I could ever be dissatisfied by something that you wrote, especially if you wrote it just for me 💙 2) I absolutely dropped the ball on reading this and the third chapter of your series, so for that I am so, so sorry. Ch3 is my next stop as soon as I get through typing this. 3) I loved this so much! It wasn’t really what I had envisioned in my head when I gave you the prompt, but your creative spin made it so much better. You have a way of creating stories and thinking in a way that is out of the box and different from a lot of the other writers that I’ve seen, especially for Geralt, so this was really great to read and I am so grateful to you for taking the time to write it for me! Never stop being you, because you’re amazing! 😘💙
pairings: Geralt of Rivia & Pero Tovar x BlackFem!Reader
warnings: mentions of imprisonment, someone says something mean, angst, the likes.
a/n: I've missed this group so much! Decide to pay them a visit. Not a long chapter but the next one will be. Didn't beta, that's for suckers. Hope you enjoy :)
"Stop that." the grumpy man sighs, head propped against the cold stone with his eyes closed.
You'd shock him if you could get your powers to work but you kept coming up empty. Whatever the guards gave you was strong, rendering you useless. You take a deep breath and try to focus more intently, willing yourself to eliminate your surroundings and sink into the motion of the spirits. Mumbling a chant over and over, you feel the familiar tingle of your spell taking form before-
"I told you to knock it off!"
Your concentration breaks and you grunt, picking up a piece of broken stone and throwing it at your cellmate.
He practically growls as it clocks him in the eye.
"Excuse me for trying to break out of this shit hole." you spit at him.
"What difference would it make? You're probably better off here."
Well, you hadn't thought of it in that way. Shit, even if you did manage to get out somehow, Tadevi could be waiting to detach your head from your body at any given moment. At least here you could die with some dignity. Or what was left of it.
"What are you in here for anyway?" you ask the man who glares at you.
"...an unpaid debt," he finally answers.
You don't push for any more information, knowing that he could be talking about a number of things. Then, the man offers his name. “I am Tovar, Pero Tovar.”
“A fitting name for a man such as yourself.” You remark before giving Pero your name.
“For a mage, your name is weak.” He says plainly.
You scoff and cross your arms around yourself. The back of your dress managed to split more and you were very close to baring your flesh to your cellmate. Not that he would mind.
You gaze up at the dirty cell, exhaling lowly. "Never thought I'd end up here. Then again, I didn't think much of my life anyway." you look down at your hands, flipping them over to inspect them closely. These didn't look like the hands of a murderer. You didn't know what happened. After that bright light, you vowed to forget that part of yourself. Now it has caught up with you.
Helah’s words ring in your mind. What did she mean that everything I was looking for is right in front of me? The only way you could think to reverse what you did and possibly gain an explanation for everything that has happened is if you traveled back in time, perhaps seek out your mother for some sense of wisdom. But you knew that with magic, there were always consequences and you weren’t sure if you were ready to face them at this point.
“Where are you from, Tovar? I can’t place your accent.”
Tovar sighs, scratching at his beard. “Temeria.”
You nod and look over at the stanger. “You are a ways from home then but you aren’t like other Temerians..”
“What are you saying?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you inch closer to sit next to Tovar. “They are...peculiar people. Very proud but often vicious. They don’t take too kindly to those who are not like them.”
Tovar grunts in agreement. “That is why my family did not stay there long. I was born there, yes, but my mother is from Skellige. We were not accepted.”
Tovar’s eyes soften at the mention of his mother but return to their hardened state quickly.
“I see.”
You open your mouth to ask more questions about his family when the guard saunters up to the bars. He bangs on it ruthlessly.
“Oy! There ain’t gonna be no sucking cock back here. If the little lady wants to make herself useful, I’d be more than happy to oblige her.” he snickers.
You fly up on your feet, huffing. You march up to the bar and swiftly swing your leg through the bottom bars, landing a nice kick to the guards balls. “Fuck you! I would much rather blow a pig.” you spit at the man.
The guard sneers and grabs you by your throat, yanking you forward. “Look who’s talking.”
An arrow suddenly whizzes through the air and strikes the guard clean in the hand and his hand slips from around your throat as he crashes to the ground. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you watch a gaggle of unknown soldiers make their way toward your cell.
Wait.
They weren’t unidentified. As one soldier steps into the low light of a torch, the sun emblem mocks you.
Nilfgaard.
“We found her!”
Your breathing grows panicked and you back away from the bars. “Uh, Tovar..”
Tovar was standing and alert, holding the stone you threw at him earlier in one hand and a blade in the other. “I hope you know more than magic, mage, because it looks like we will be fighting our way out.”
To your surprise, Geralt strides up to your cell, tossing you a small smile. “Miss me?”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Look fellas, we got ourselves a witcher.” One of the soldiers yells out. The group screams out a battle cry and charges at Gearlt who steadies himself.
You had never seen anyone fight like him before. He was fluid, fought with precision, and looked damned good while doing it. You could see the appeal of the witcher and understood why they were often sought out to take care of certain opponents.
After single handedly slaughtering the group of Nilfgaard soldiers, Geralt breaks the lock to your cell.
"Geralt! What is happening?" you ask, eyes furiously taking in his face.
"Nilfgaard is attacking." he tells you. Using the brute force of his bare hands, he manages to snap the lock in half and the door opens. You're careful to walk around the bloodied guard and soldiers, gathering your dress up in your arms so it wouldn't stain.
"Can you fight?" Geralt questions Tovar who follows you two to the exit of the dungeons.
"Can you?" Tovar raises an eyebrow, looking back at the mess of slain soldiers. He stops, bending over to pluck a sword from a deadmans hand.
Geralt hums and the three of you stalk off into the lower parts of the castle. He leads you down numerous hallways. You recognized some parts of the passageways but never really dwelled below the castle before. You wondered how Geralt knew where to go.
"I don't understand, why is Nilfgaard here? I thought they were further south." you ponder out loud. You trip a little bit on your dress and Pero catches your elbow to steady you.
"They've been moving fast. They only came for one thing and won't stop until they get it."
Geralt opens the door to a spare bedroom and you all file in. He rifles through a drawer and tosses a pair of grey trousers and a simple white tunic your way. You quickly strip out of your dress, Pero doesn't advert his eyes immediately. You didn't mind too much.
"What is it that they want?" Pero asks Geralt. They share a knowing look between each other before they both turn to look at you. You were currently struggling to get your arms in the tunic and your head was stuck in the hole.
"They want her."
You freeze as you finally get the shirt on correctly. “I heard them say ‘there she is’ back in the dungeons, what could they want with me?”
“They heard of you, your powers, and want to use you as a weapon.”
Your blood grows cold as you think about your family. You shake your head. “A weapon?”
Shouts ring out from the hallway outside the room and Geralt grips his sword tighter. “I’ll explain more once we’re further away. We need to get to the stables, now.”
You peek outside the tiny window in the room and gasp at what you see. It was pure chaos outside. Women and children lay dead in puddles of blood, men fought back as best they could against the Nilfgaard soldiers but were no match for the strongest kingdom’s army. A hand flys over your mouth and you do your best to swallow your tears.
“Where’s Ciri? The queen?” you cry out, heart pounding at the thought of one of them being hurt.
“Ciri was taken to safety, as was the queen.”
The noise draws closer.
“Witch..” Pero hisses, nodding his head to the door.
“We can’t go to the main stables, it’s too unsafe. There’s another one hidden right outside, near the back of the castle. I keep my horse there.”
Geralt nods and swings the door open to the room. “Lead the way.”
. . . . . . . .
Your horse, Genesis, neighs loudly when she sees you approaching. She kicks around her stall, rearing up on her hind legs. You pet her mane, whispering reassurances to her.
“Easy, easy, girl. I’m right here. I bet you’re ready to stretch out those legs, aren’t you?” Genesis snorts, prancing a bit to show you how excited she was to get out.
“The other horses should be prepped and ready to go.” you tell Tovar and Geralt. You each take the time to saddle the horses up and once it’s done, you dash off into the darkness of the surrounding forest. You glance back at the fires lighting up the kingdom of Cintra, hearing the screams and cries of those who once inhabited the palace.
This is not how you wanted to remember the place where you spent the majority of your life. It reminded you of what you were running from to begin with.
You decided, right then, that you were done with running.
I’m not sure if you plan on continuing this series, but I am definitely interested if you do. The dynamic between Pero and Geralt is sure to be a good one. Thank you for sharing this! 💙
pairings: Geralt of Rivia & Pero Tovar x BlackFem!Reader
warnings: mentions of imprisonment, someone says something mean, angst, the likes.
a/n: so i binged the witcher and this is what my brain came up with. Enjoy :)
“Where on earth is this child?” you sigh, peering into yet another room with no sign of Cirilla. If her grandmother found out that she was out in the town playing with these boys again she’d likely have your head on a spike before dinner. Gathering up your skirts in your hands, you dash down the corridor and out of the back door from the servant’s quarters.
Spying the princess a few feet away, indeed playing with those wretched boys, you march right up to her. Sensing your presence, Cirilla abandons her game, throwing her arms up in mock surrender.
“Can’t I just play another game? I almost won the last round.” the blonde-headed girl frowns, hoping her puppy dog gaze would do the trick. Normally it would but not today, the queen was hosting a grand dinner for all of the knights, and everyone needed to be in tip-top shape.
“You shouldn’t be out here in the first place, you don’t belong. Now enough of the wallowing, we have business to attend to,” you remark, glancing around at your feet trying to ensure you didn’t step in anything that could track dirt back into the castle.
“Yeah, go and listen to your nanny!” one of the village boys snickers, earning a boast of laughter from the others.
“This nanny could kick your ass several different ways, let us not forget.” the young boy’s jaw drops, and you wink, escorting the princess back inside.
Okay, Tish, okay. Normally crossover fics are not my thing but I am very intrigued by this one. I love the way that you introduced Tovar. On to Chapter 2 👀
The Witcher Appreciation Week | Day One: Favorite Character - Geralt of Rivia
Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, it’s all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I’m not a pious hermit, I haven’t done only good in my life. But if I’m to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all.
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