☜ The Witcher Imagines ☞

Imagine being a bard and Geralt spending time with you

You woke up from another lover's bed, ready to bind your breasts, dress into the men's clothing you frequented, take your life over your shoulder and run. They didn't normally believe you were a woman until you reached the bedroom but once you undressed they didn't care. In the end, they still wouldn't be the ones to leave you alone.

You liked it better that way, not to have any mortal connections to the world, that's why you fell in love with music in the first place. Music was immortal and left a legacy, an invisible trail of sweet gold wherever you skipped.

Being a girl you didn't grow up thinking you'd be a poverty-stricken bard but a singer for the royals, someone who was rumoured to sing like angels in high heaven. But then, you were sold to be an old man's wife in his final years and with his death you became a ghost, not the royal singer you dreamed to be.

Now, after an hour or two of walking, you came upon a busy town already stuck in the rut of celebration.

"Young boy!-" You called, capturing a child's attention with a wide smile,
"- what is going on here?".

"We're celebrating the King's birthday, sir!" The boy chirped.

You looked around the crowds, assessing the joyous atmosphere alive with music, dance and tales old and new.

You smiled down at the boy and ruffled his blonde locks, "Thanks kid".

With that news, you walked further into a mob of lightheaded merriment before you pulled your flute to your lips and whistled a simple tune that eventually drew eyes toward your skipping form. 

Just as you desired, all eyes were on you, listening to your legacy as you led them further into the building festival. More people were approaching, more were joining the party and you relished in the heat of the festivity. However, while drunk on the intoxicating atmosphere you felt the crowd lessen, heard their cheers become more distant before you finally sprang into a black, shadow of leather.

The pain of falling onto your backside shot up your spine and left you confused for seconds until you stood back up with a wobble.

"For fuck's sake" you moaned once you saw the state of your clothes. The vibrant red was scuffed with dirt and dust from falling and you were ready to see what fucker pushed you to the ground.

"You should watch where you're going" a deep voice warned from his tall stature.

"What about you, you-" once you looked up your words died in your throat. A Witcher... of everyone you could bump into it had to be a bloody Witcher.
"- You look like you could use a drink".

What a save that was from certain death you sighed to yourself as you quickly turned on your heel and walked toward the nearest tavern. What you'd didn't expect though was for him to silently follow along behind you, nothing guaranteed he'd actually accept the offer.

While you walked toward your future drink, you blew a piece of stray hair from your eyes in annoyance. Well, you at least had to admit it, the Witcher was sex on legs. It would only take little time before you'd drawn this man into a bed and between your legs; men weren't the only ones with needs.

"So you actually accepted" you smirked as you sat down with two cups and a jug of ale.

The Witcher settled into his seat as he watched you pour the drinks, "A drink is a drink".

"I'll cheer you to that" you smirked before lifting the cup toward his golden eyes and taking a few gulps down into your warm body.

You were determined this time.