The Witcher One Shots

An Old Friend (Geralt X Reader) (Angst? Spice-ish?)

A/N: @ShokoTodoroka135 here you go! Sorry it took so long, I've been slightly busy with work, and I haven't really had time to just sit and write, but I hope you enjoy!

You're a sorceress, in Temeria, but six years ago you met a man that would ruin your life in Redania. Geralt of Rivia. Of course, it would be a Witcher. You helped him out with monster hunting, and in return, he left you to burn at the stake. You only survived because you had been freed by a soldier you had used Axii on. And yes, maybe the soldiers had a valid reason to execute you, for the reason you resorted to using Goetia, or demonology, to summon a creature to fight for you, while you were stuck. But you started an herbology shop, making elixirs, and potions to heal people, moving on from Geralt, still bitter, but significantly less so than when you were in the prison. But one day, someone you thought had forgotten about you came back, with an injured bard.

~~~

You were simply mixing a few herbs for a little girl who lived down the road who had come down with a fever. Nothing a bit of herbal tonics wouldn't solve, but before you got out the door of your hut, a man carrying another man, badly bruised and battered, barges into the hut.

"Y/N." He says in a deep gravelling voice.

"Geralt of Rivia," You grumble, your voice rasping in anger as you look at him, crossing your arms, "why the fuck are you here?"

"I need your help."

"Last time I helped you I almost got burnt at the stake, and you didn't help me. Get out. I have a job to do."

He blocks the door as you try to walk out, "I can't let you leave, not until you heal him." He glances at the bard.

"You're locking me in my own home, so I can heal a bard you claim to hate?"

"How do you know that?"

"I've heard his songs, I'm not a swine, Geralt, unlike you, now get out of my hut." You glare.

Geralt puts Jaskier on the cot laying in the corner of your hut, "I'll wait."

You huff after stopping in the doorway, and turn around to Geralt, "What's wrong with your little bard friend?"

"He got into trouble with the wrong crowd. I think they just beat him, I'm not sure of anything else. You're the expert, you're supposed to know what's going on."

"How can I know what's going on if I don't know what happened to the bard?"

"Just make sure he won't die."

"You do realize I have other people to tend to, right?" You cross your arms, waiting for the white haired Witcher to move out of your way.

Geralt looks at you, that's all it takes, a little bit of sympathy in his eyes, and one word, muttered in a begging tone.

"Please."

You stand there for a second. Kicking yourself for what your about to do. Desperately begging yourself to just push past him and get to your other business, but you've always had a spot for Geralt. Soft? Not quite, but you can't decline him when he gives you that look.

"By the Gods, you are a menace. Fine." You turn to the unconscious bard on the cot in the corner of your hut. You approach him, kneel at his side, and look upon his wounds, "Who hurt him?" You look to Geralt, who's standing over you.

"A few bandits outside of a small town."

"That's not work of bandits, Geralt, these aren't common swordsmanship skills. A sword sharp enough to go clean through the shoulder is more of a master blacksmith job. That's a knight's blade."

"Why would a knight stab a bard?"

"Let's ask him when he wakes. But in the meantime, drink?" You ask, glancing to a cabinet bolted to the wall.

"A healer with a cupboard of alcohol? I could use some ale." Geralt shrugs.

You pull out a glass bottle of wine and two crystalized glasses.

"I'm afraid I don't have any ale. I'm not an ale person." You pour the wine into the glasses, filling yours fuller than Geralt's.

"Rough day?" He smiles, half genuinely.

You sip from the glass and hand him his, "You could say that, yes. These imbeciles don't know how to keep themselves alive. Even if it's not difficult. I have four men I need to tend to, all of which need essentially the same thing. There's a pack of wolves out in the woods, and they like humans apparently." You down the rest of your wine, "say, you're a Witcher. You kill monsters, surely a pack of wolves isn't a hustle."

"I'm afraid I can't, I have business at Crow's Perch to finish."

You sigh, "I see. When you get the chance then? It would make my life so much easier."

"Sure. When I get the chance." Geralt agrees.

"Wonderful, Witcher." You smile, quickly reminding yourself what he did to you in Redania.

As if he could read your mind, "I'm sorry I left. I should've gone back for you."

You turn your gaze to meet his. Your gaze softens, hearing those words, not just in self-interest, but to genuinely show his regret, it makes the hatred fade a bit.

"You- you apologized?" You ponder aloud, remembering the feelings of love you felt for him once before, only to realize, those feelings never ceased, because of the hatred. The feeling of betrayal was just the love turned sour.

Geralt shifts from his leaning position he was in against the wall, shuffling closer to you through the small hut, "Yes. I'm sorry. I really am."

You roll your eyes, already regretting what you're about to do, but none the less, you grab Geralt's face, pulling him into a kiss, running your hand up his chest, while your other hand rests on his face. His hands land on your waist, as the candle in the corner flickers brightly. Feeling the energy of the passion on Geralt's lips, your hand reaches his Medallion, fiddling with it, as he pushes you to the wall and runs his hand up your back and into your hair.

~~~

The next morning you awake under the fur covers from your bed, noticing that Geralt is gone, you get out of your bed, putting on your white blouse and brown leggings. The bard is still asleep and there's a note by your wine cabinet, being held down by a knife so the wind that makes its way through the cracks of your hut don't blow it away most likely.

I went to the Blacksmith, I figured I'd take care of your wolf problem while the bard was healing. I might even come back with a new bottle of wine. Who knows.

You smile, before Jaskier shifts in his cot, waking gently.

"You're awake, bard. How's your shoulder?"

"Better, I mean, not open anymore."

"Wonderful, so you feel well enough to tell me why a knight wanted you dead?" You turn to him, leaning on the door frame.

"Uh- no-" He stutters, "Suddenly I don't feel very well."

"Stop shitting me. Why did the knight want you dead?"

Jaskier's face gets redder than before, "I may or may not have slept with his wife, and perhaps his daughter, maybe. In my defense, they were both very very sexy women."

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, I should've known." You snicker to yourself, "Both of them? Between what amount of time, bard?"

"Two days." He smiles cheekily, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, "But I didn't know they were related when it happened!"

You roll your eyes, just as Geralt arrives back.

"Perfect timing, your bard is an idiot."

"I know, I heard the whole thing." Geralt gives you a smile, a reminder of the previous night.