Baby, It's cold outside.
WHUMPTOBER DAY 17. Prompt: Hypothermia Fandom: The Witcher.
Summary: On your way back to Kaer Morhen, the perilous weather manages to get the better of you, leaving you in a vulnerable state. it is upto Geralt to get you back back to the keep before it is too late.
Warnings: Hypothermia, taking off clothes (non-sexual).
Word Count: 1.6k
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
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It was cold.
That’s all you really had to say about the weather. The snow had settled on the ground like a blanket and the frost crawled up the trees that scaled the mountains. The snow was thick and seeped into your clothes as you trudged alongside Geralt who sat proudly upon Roach, who seemed to be coping much better than your horse was against the conditions. A few miles back, she had spooked. Her sudden jerk threw you from your back, tossing you onto the ground. Your body collided with the snow with a thud. You groaned and pushed yourself to your feet, gripping onto Geralt’s gloved hand. After that you had opted to walk alongside him as he kept a steady pace, claiming that it would be ‘good for you to stretch your legs.’ Geralt seemed hesitant to let you walk, as he offered you a seat on his horse multiple times, but you still relented. You were beginning to wish you had taken up his offer though, as the cold sank through your clothes and bit away at your skin.
Geralt frowned deeply when your trudging began to slow and the prints you left in the snow shuffled closer together. His forehead wrinkled together as he suddied you. You had pulled the edges of your coat closer to you, though it wasn’t very effective as it was soaked through. It was a deep blue decorated with hand stitched embroidery. The inside was lined with a thin layer of fur. Geralt had brought it for you at a local market when he noticed the way you kept turning back to awe at it. His ‘reasoning’ for buying it after you had relocated after reading the price tag and checking your coins, was that it was practical. Your old cloak had been falling apart and would soon be useless against the conditions, especially when the two of you reached Kaer Morhen at the heart of the blue mountains. Your violent shivers didn’t go unnoticed by the Witcher as he looked down on you. He couldn’t see your face because it was sheltered by your hood, but he could vividly picture your trembling lip.
His worry really peaked when you stopped to lean against the tree, just a few miles short of the keep. You could see it now in all of its glory, peaking through the snow tipped pines. The two of you had been travelling a while, and it was a far from easy trek- particularly without your horse. Your eyes drooped and you slumped entirely against the frost-riddled bark.
“Y/N?” He asked tentatively, steering roach around to a halt besides you.
“I’m okay, Geralt. Just tired is all.”
That was an understatement. Each step felt like you were wading through tar and the burning in your fingers and toes had begun to become unbearable in the exposure. You were hunched over like your body had completely forgotten how to function. Each of your limbs ached and your joints stiff as you fumbled with the latch on your coat, trying to pull it implausibly closer. When you took a step forward, your knees buckled and you crumpled to the floor.
Geralt all but flung himself from his saddle, dropping to his knees besides your trembling body. Ignoring the icy dampness that dug into his knees, he swiped the hair that had fallen over your eyes and pushed back the blue hood. He was startled by how alarming your skin felt. Your face was pale and your eyes were hooded, though he could still see them moving around, struggling to focus on anything for too long.
“You’re freezing.” He muttered.
You made no move to reply, watching him vanish into your peripheral vision. He returned only moments later, reaching an arm behind you back and under your knees to lift you effortlessly. The movements made your joints protest as he lifted up onto Roach before climbing up onto her behind you and securing you in front of him. You hardly spared your mount a second thought, consumed only by the never faltering winter, although Geralt had tied her reins to Roach .
Bringing your icy body towards his, he hoped that the closeness would allow your body to steal some of his. It radiated off of him like a wave, but did little to soothe you. With a quick snap of his reins, Roach raced forwards before settling into an even pace which would get you to the keep in adequate time.
You were quiet. Too quiet. Normally, you would be talking nonstop with Jaskier, feeding into his fantasies or singing along to one of his songs; often just to spite the Witcher. Geralt didn’t like your silence. It felt wrong. So, he tried talking to you. He knew that he had to keep you awake long enough to get you back to the keep.
“Y/N?”
It was faint, but you hummed against his chest.
“Do you remember that Bruxa we fought a while back?”
You smiled weakly at the memory. “Scared the shit out of me and Jaskier.”
“That's right.”
“I’ll never forget… the look on his face when she flew out of nowhere.” Your words were slow as you thought hard to form them on your chapped lips.
“He didn’t sleep for a week.”
You chuckled softly, but then drifted back into that perilous silence as Geralt continued to try and get you to talk to him. Your mind was hazy as the cold consumed you; made your body numb.
“Y/N?” Geralt called out to you again at your lack of response.
“Cold.” You could only bring yourself to say one word. It was slurred and barely coherent though your blue lips.
“I know.” He urged his horse to move faster across the last stretch of the rocky terrain. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost there.”
His words fell of deaf ears as you were pulled down into the warmth of unconsciousness. Geralt could hear your slow heartbeat.
Geralt barged through the gates of Kaer Morhen, riding much faster than he should have done. The sudden disturbance unsettled the horses in the stables and caused a sea of heads to snap in his direction. When Vesemir caught sight of you lying limply against his chest. He raced forwards and was by Geralt's side by the time he had slid out of the saddle. The two of them walked quickly, your head rolled against his body and your arm hung uselessly by your side.
“We need a fire.” Geralt told him. “And dry clothes. Blankets too. She’s hypothermic.”
The elder man nodded before speeding off to various places within the keep. Geralt urged his legs to move quicker down the hallways, until you reached a cosy room with a large fire. It crackled loudly and illuminated the room with a flickering orange light. When the doors flung open, Eskel, who had been seated by the fire, turned his head to find the source of the commotion. His eyes widened at the sight of your lifeless body in his arms, and was quickly helping his brother to get you settled on the sofa. Then, he left to go and fetch you a cup of something warm to drink once you awoke.
You stirred as Geralt began to strip you of your wet clothes. You whined at the loss of the fabric, clenching onto your top.
“I’m sorry, but I have to take off the wet things. It’s going to make it worse if I don’t.”
“Geralt?” You furrowed your brow.
He hummed.
“Where are we?”
This caused bile to rise in the back of his throat. “We’re at the keep, Y/N.”
You nodded and reluctantly allowed him to peel off the wettest outer layers of your clothes, leaving you in your undergarments which were dry for the most part. He covered you with his cloak and rubbed your arms to try to generate warmth.
Soon, Eskel returned with a warm mug of herbal tea. Geralt coaxed you to drink it. It offered blissful relief as it trailed down your throat and pooled in your stomach. When Vesemir returned with a handful of your warmest furs, Geralt tugged them over your body. You had begun to shiver again as the burning returned to your fingers and toes. He let out a breath of relief. It took a long time for your body to finally stop shivering and to fall into some sort of regular temperature. Sure, you were still cold, but it was nothing compared to the agony you had felt a short while ago. Geralt watched over you as you began to drift to sleep again; your exhausted body just couldn’t keep up with the demands of your brain. Although worry still tugged at his heartstrings, he felt some sense of reassurance that you would be okay, wrapped up within his arms. He wasn’t going to leave you anytime soon, that was one thing he knew for certain.
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