Polyanna: A Witcher's Mage

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1272, Novigrad 

Geralt walked up the small stairs leading to a mahogany door, quietly smiling at the flowery patterns on the edges. The tiny porch was adorned with two chairs, a table, and several different types of flowers blooming around the set. Typical.

He knocked on the door, twice, and waited. He noted where he stood, careful not to stand too close to the stairs. He heard soft footsteps walking towards the door, melodious humming following. Geralt prepared himself; opening his arms wide and planting his feet firmly on the ground. 

"GERALT!" 

Within a second, his face was engulfed by pastel pink hair as a body hit his chest with enormous force. He wrapped one arm around the woman and lifted her up so she wouldn't strain herself. He removed her hair from his face with his free hand, raising his eyebrows a the shortness of it. The wolf medallion around her neck met his own, causing both to tremble.

"We meet again," he greeted, chuckling quietly. She squeezed him one last time, briefly cutting off his airway. While lifting her in his arms, he walked into the house and closed the door behind them with his foot. 

After giggling in his ear, she let him go. And there stood Euphemiya, chipper as ever. He looked over over, noticing how her face hadn't changed one bit. Though, her once long hair now reached her chin in open waves, colored pastel pink hair instead of the violet she wore the last time he saw her. She grinned so wide he thought she would break her face.

"Oh my gosh, how long has it been?" She squeezed his forearms. "Wait, four- No, three- No, four- Oh no! It's been six months! Did you find Yen? How's Vesemir? Is Lambert still angry with me?" 

He led them to the kitchen of her happily decorated house (there was more pink and light blue in this house than anywhere in the world), while nodding along to her babbling.

"It's been seven months. I found Yen. Vesemir's fine, says you should come by Kaer Morhen sometime soon. Lambert was never angry with you," he calmly answered all of her questions, making himself at home in her kitchen. He poured some Kaedweni Stout for himself and another cup of apple juice for Euphemiya. "How've you been?" he asked as she stood up. "You still can't sit still for a second?"

She put her hands on her hips. "You've been asking that for ninety years,"

"You've never given me an answer," 

"And I won't satisfy you with one." Euphemiya promptly turned around and snapped her fingers, causing a bunch of knives to start cutting vegetables on the counter. She lifted up her other hand and Geralt watched as her palm emitted a soft blue light.

He sat back, looking around the cozy kitchen. Her entire house, including her kitchen, was full of plants. Her previous house was larger, so there weren't as many. Speaking of-

"Why'd you move?" he asked as she gathered her sketches from the table, setting them atop each other neatly.

She sighed. "I didn't particularly like having front row seats to mage executions," 

He frowned. "You know it's a matter of time before they find out you're one too... right?" 

"Oh, that's not a problem. I never use magic,"

"So you don't remember putting your kitchen to work?" Geralt deadpanned.

She glanced behind her sheepishly. "Alright. But I'm only using it now because I wanna talk to you! And then I only use magic in the basement," 

"Just be careful." He warned. He changed the topic, sensing her discomfort. "I need lodgings for the night." 

"Of course," she immediately replied. She skipped over to him, leaning down to be at his eye level. He warily looked into her mischievous brown eyes. "Your favorite blankie is in the closet."

He instantly turned away, taking a large sip of his drink. She giggled, hugging him from behind briefly before checking on her plants.

"I mention that shit to you once-"

"Aww, you know I'm just teasing you- D'you need me to cut your hair?" She cut herself off.

"No. And it's been twelve fucking years," he complained. She just giggled at him.

"Aw, don't look so flustered." She pouted playfully.

He stared at her as she watered her plants, humming a cheerful tune. She wore a familiar light blue dress and no shoes (a signature look for her). She glanced over her shoulder, sensing his stare. She smiled sweetly.

"By the way," she began, as if suddenly remembering something, "there's a contract on drowners by the Honeyfill Meadworks." 

He shifted in the chair, clearing his throat. "I'm actually busy with something... And I need your help."

Euphemiya dried her hands, fully turning to look at him. "Of course, anything,"

"Ciri's back,"

Her eyes widened comically. "What?"

He nodded. "Wild Hunt's after her," 

"Oh no," 

"They want to use her because of the Elder gene she carries," 

"Oh no."  She cupped her cheeks. 

"So she's in extreme danger," 

"Oh gosh,"  Euphemiya said softly, worriedly tapping her thigh with her middle finger. "Wait, but what do you need my help for?"

"You know everyone and everything that happens in Novigrad," Geralt explained, like it was obvious. "I was hoping you'd seen her."

She looked up, thinking. "No... I don't think so... I think," 

"You think?"

"I did bump into a woman that looked an awful lot like Ciri and she did look at me and ran away, but I didn't really think much of it..." 

Geralt groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "Someone ran away from you, also known as the most likeable person in the Northern Realms, and that someone also happened to look a lot like Ciri, someone's who's afraid of endangering her friends because of the Wild Hunt..."

Realization fell over Euphemiya's face. "Oh... oh no."

At least she has the decency to look ashamed.

"Fuck," he cursed to himself.

"Geralt, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't think. I expected her to be gone longer, but I didn't think. I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. I should've known," she babbled.

"It's fine," he sighed, thinking about his next step.

"No it's not. I understand if you want me to leave," she said, resigned.

He rolled his eyes. "This is your house. Stay." He nodded at the chair diagonal to his. She silently shuffled over and sat down, lacing her fingers in his lap. "What's done is done. But you can still help me." 

"How?" she asked in a small voice.

"Help me track the leads here. It'll be quicker if I'm not on my own." He stared deeply into her wide brown eyes. "Deal?" 

She nodded and grinned. "Deal."