ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕖𝕖𝕥

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It was snowing heavily, the ground covered with a thick layer of icy fluff.

I had been walking for hours at this point, trying to put as much distance between me and the men after me.

I was cold, hungry and scared. I had no idea where I was going, but, I knew that I couldn't stop. Not now.

Suddenly, a twig snaps to my left and I thrash my head in that direction, my breathing uneven as I try to locate the source of the sound.

I don't see anything, but, a severe pain erupts in my head as a force comes down onto my temple.

I cry out and stagger, falling quickly and harshly to the leafy ground.

Immediately, I hear footsteps bounding closer as well as the sounds of laughter.

"There she is!"

"String up the whore!"

"Yeah!"

"Gut her like a pig!"

I grunt angrily and force myself back onto my feet, fighting off the dizziness from the hit.

"I am not a whore. Neither am I a pig."

I spit and they glare at me. There are four of them, one being the one I kneed in the crouch.

"You're about to be dead in a few moments, whore."

He says through gritted teeth. I back away as he nears me and I try to hold my ground, but, when he grips my blouse, I begin to crumble.

But, I won't stoop to begging for my life.

Before the brute could strike me again, a deep voice sounds out.

"That is no way to treat a lady."

I peer over the brutes left shoulder to see a man. His build was impressive, muscles upon muscles. His hair was silver grey and long while his eyes were a piercing mix between orange and yellow.

The guy holding me turns, glaring harshly at the intruder.

"You have no business here, Witcher. I am just going to teach this whore her place."

He snarls, turning back to me. I grunt, trying to pry his hand off of me.

"For the last time, I am not a whore!"

I exclaim. The man chuckles.

"If it walks like a whore and dresses like a whore."

His friends laugh from behind him and I grin at him.

"I am not one of those women that you frequent at Yasfer's (Totally made up) bar on a Friday night. I bus the tables, where I told you that I am not for sale."

I snap and he glares daggers at me, gripping my blouse more tightly.

"Why, you little-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Release the girl."

The Witcher says, his voice deep and menacing. The guy sighs, turning to face the Witcher once more.

"You are really starting to get on my nerves, Witcher."

He says, nodding to his friends, who turn in the Witcher's direction.

He is going to get hurt. I do not want him hurt because of me.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, I raise my knee again, connecting it with the brutes family jewels again.

He groans and drops to the ground. The Witcher takes this opportunity and quickly moves, knocking the rest of the men out cold.

I back away with a gasp. I was not scared, merely taken aback.

The Witcher does not spare me a glance as he approaches the brute clutching his crouch on the ground.

He kneels before him, gripping the hair on his head.

"If you touch another woman unwillingly again, I will gut you like a pig."

He growls before thrusting his head downwards, knocking him out too.

I sigh in relief as he stands. I find myself slumping against a nearby tree, my head injury finally catching up to me.

He turns upon the noise and frowns when he looks at me. He sighs and begins to approach me.

"Thank you."

I tell him and he grunts out a 'hmm' before lowering himself to my level.

I struggle to keep my eyes open and he notices this.

"You are fading fast."

He states, reaching out to inspect the wound on my forehead. He grunts.

"Unfortunately, my elixirs and herbs only work to heal a Witcher. You need a Healer."

He says and I sigh tiredly. I was at least four hours away from home. I could try and get there on foot, after I rest. I nod.

"My home is hours away. I will go after I rest. Thank you for your help. I never caught your name."

I mumble as the world around me becomes blurry.

"No, you need to stay awake. Fuck."

I hear him mutter before arms are on me, under my legs and neck. I am lifted into his arms and carried away from the tree.

I see us approach a brown horse and I frown, struggling to keep my eyes open as he lays me upon it.

"Easy, Roach. She needs a Healer. Let's go."

He speaks to the horse like it can understand him.

However, the horse snorts and begins to move once he had gotten on behind me. He holds me tight against his chest as the horse begins running.

I could not fight the drowsiness anymore and gave in, the world becoming black.

🐺

My body lurches upwards in a panic, ready to defend myself.

"Hush now, child. You need to heal."

A woman's gentle voice urges me back onto the bed and I go willingly.

"You also had a bruised rib."

She says, avoiding eye contact with me as heavy footsteps fill the room.

"How did you get the bruised rib? You are lying about something."

The Witcher says and I sigh. The Healer leaves my side and brushes passed him.

"My Mother died last week. My Father sold me to a Lord. I refused and fled, gaining the bruised rib. I procured a job at the Inn, where I bussed the brutes table. He assumed I was a whore and attempted to... I kneed him where the sun does not shine and fled once more. Thank you again. I'd have surely died without you. My name is Y/N."

I explain and he nods, moving further into the room.

"Geralt Of Rivia."

He rasps and I send him a smile.

"Well, thank you, Geralt Of Rivia."

I say and he fights back a smile.

"You are welcome, Y/N."

He bits back.

𝔊𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔞 ℑ𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰 (ℌ𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔶 ℭ𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔩𝔩) ✔Where stories live. Discover now