Words: 6.4k
Warning: Hold your hearts, baby witchers. Its gonna be kinda lit?
A/N: I won't be updating for the next two weeks, bb's. I'm so sorry. I have a title defense coming up and my head is concentrating on the work needed to be done. ISTG, I want to write but school makes it difficult to do it. 😢 To make up for the lost days ahead---I've written a long chapter for y'all that will tickle or pinch your hearts?
Disclaimer: This has not been edited. I've updated this using a phone. Heehee. Expect lots of errors and such. PNG's and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. (All taken from Tumblr so credits to the rightful owners of the gifs) However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the books or games.
Please don't forget to leave comments, votes or basically feedbacks! Thank you, bb's! LMAO.
Chapter 25.1 - The lore and a miracle
THE MORNING WAS AS RESTLESS AS IT IS. Whose fault could it be? A bard who started questioning the both of you along the travel you had. Angstful hearts were there---in plural form because you could feel this be doubled up; tripled up when the subject was frankly asked.
Jaskier didn't need to be so meddling that it took you another hour to shut your mouth and waited until you're back home.
Surprising to say, Geralt has been continuously giving some slur and incomprehensible responses more than you today and it seemed like he wasn't in his usual brooding self.
"We're home at last," the bard commented with a stretch of his arms due to exhaustion. He jumped off his horse as you followed suit without his help.
It took a stumble out of you due to how high the horse was, grabbing the attention of some certain witcher who turned paler as time ticks by. Though, he was still steady enough to stand on his own feet, even having the audacity to turn and see how you were.
He stared upon your shoulder with your back turned away from him. You could feel it. Him. Geralt was looking. You were dusting off your gown, mentally groaning to see your foot stuck on the ends of it because of how it was designed a little longer for your stature. Pulling the hem out of your foot, the force has taken you to stumble back.
You've hit your head on something rather hard. Geralt's armor ringing inside your ear and banging the back of your head that made you whine. Abnormally warm and strong set of fingers quickly grabbed onto the side of your hip, steadying you from wholly falling face-flat.
The mere grasp gave your heart a booster. Knowing that those fingers are from a man who owns the child living inside, it immediately given you a whiplash from how his fingers were close to your stomach, making you move away like you've been burnt.
His fingers were left in the air. The tightest frown etched on Geralt's face from your response upon his help when you hardly became hostile to his actions before.
Rohesia saw the silent and accidental interaction as she jumped off Cirilla's stud. She saw how it left Geralt scowling more than ever like he didn't want you acting the way you were right now, even seeing how you've subtly held onto your stomach whilst the witcher turned around to tie off his own horse on her shed and prevent her from moving.
Hence, she couldn't help but narrow her eyes at how you were acting. So, you were the woman whom Geralt sees as someone dear to him when a single negative reaction could get his sour mood grow deeper.
You were acting strange and it was reciprocal for Geralt as well.
Cirilla ushered for Rohesia's unfamiliarity at their home that stood before her. She'd went side by side with the elder, helping her as she stepped from the soreness around her legs due to sitting too long on a horse. The latter sweetly whispered her thanks for the princess.
They've subtly turned their heads to look at you both who stood with restless hearts in the middle of a meadow. With Cirilla, narrowing her eyes at the witcher who has caught her warning gaze. Regardless of her vague exhorts, Geralt didn't need any of it because his unconscious self---the one who was more honest for what he feels---planned to climb over his own barriers today.
It must be the poison talking, but we all know that this is what his inner thoughts might be thinking.
You could feel your toes tickling. Shoulders slumping as you sauntered across the meadow. Frowning being a permanent line painted upon your lips. Your sensitivity and yearning taking over while your throat was beginning to tighten for controlling the strong feelings reacting very well with the bond.
Geralt took long strides, lightheaded as he does so with every step. He'd caught up and the witcher was steadfast enough to grab onto your elbow, ceasing you from moving further as he towered behind.
His voice was rough and stern. Angry for whatever was making him mad---or maybe to himself, "Midget," he gruffly started, the next words sounding surprising because of how he seemed to be begging with that sudden delicate swirl dripping on his tongue.
"---Talk...to me,"
Geralt was earnestly staring across your shoulder. His amber eyes entreating but you never knew because you were too busy fighting off your own sensitive battles and with the issue you have with him.
Biting your lip with your face away from him; out of the blue, he has uttered out words that could sway a woman---in which you hardly knew about him due to being unethusiastic all the time. Howbeit, he still sounded lackadaisical as he said.
"You look...beautiful tonight," Geralt momentarily paused in the middle of his sentence, his nose scrunching from hearing him say particular, flowery words that he never uses.
You let out a breath you've been holding, gently twisting your elbow out of his hold in which the witcher tightened---not letting you go because he knew you would ignore him all day.
"Only tonight?"
Geralt of Rivia deeply hummed from the question, his mouth curling as he frankly confessed, "Everyday when you're...not cranky like me,"
With a simple and secretive roll of your eyes, you spun on your heels. Meeting your Gigantuan mutant who had a grimace permanent on his face. Just the actual image of your witcher present for the day was making your heart sway without persuasions that can be said by him. Even with only his presence and that pining look in his eyes that mentally tells how tired, broken, confused and needed to be cared for excluding the tough facade and persona that his kind was giving people---you would always be the mortal who will care for him more than how his mother did.
Where as, the road to transporting back towards your dimension was being avoided because of how dedicated you were in worrying for Geralt; for smothering him with the care he was neglected by.
You momentarily sighed and closed your eyes as you spoke, controlling most of what your heart has been telling you to do, "You're...not getting in my pants tonight by calling yourself cranky, Geralt." pause. "---throw me back to where I came from. I don't care anymore."
Fluttering your eyes open to see Geralt blinking languidly and utmost relaxed. The first time you've seen him in his most calm state that you have never thought of seeing. His lips curled in an amused smile that could make other people's spine shiver. Howbeit, not to you. Your spine was shivering from how you've longed to see him happy rather than brooding most of the time.
It has given you butterflies in your stomach.
Geralt gruffly murmured, catching your heed. Unintentionally changing the subject, "---and also smelling...quite exquisite. But, There's...something different."
You were under his scrutiny. The latter's golden set of peepers squinted into slits as he zeroed on your face, making your nerves tremble from catching onto something that wasn't supposed to happen---your pregnancy.
"W-What? What's different?"
The witcher shut his eyes, subtly tilting his head as his smile was still there. Earning another marathon for your jittery heart. He deeply took a sniff of the air, mentally focusing on that particular smell that you owned. Continuously, sounding and looking intoxicated as minutes go by.
"Your fiery little self. I can sense it. Hmm. My fave scent throughout the whole continent---such scent only made for you," he roughly slurred, his usual hesitance over physical touches suddenly gone when he has stepped a foot closer, raising his fingers to touch your arm which has gotten a reaction of skepticism. One brow raised as you tilted your head up high to his tall height.
There was a second of pause from his abrupt gestures. The touch sending such jubilant feeling even for the growing baby inside and for the bond created.
You blinked twice, disbelief washing your face as you pursed your lips to give a petty, slightly protective reply, "Oh, is it Lilac and Gooseberries? Guess whose scent is that from."
You gave him a feigned, sarcastic grin. Your smile never reaching your eyes and Geralt couldn't help but lowly chuckle, making you ask yourself if it was the start of his murdering plans for your petty little self.
Geralt of Rivia seldomly laughs. If he is, then it's either you're close to your demise or you have earned a spot in his heart that truly tells how much happiness you give him. Facts learned from a bard that knew him very well.
"I learned the fact from Jaskier, if you're curious enough to know," clearing your throat, you avoided his wistful eyes; those eyes that seem to want and melt you away---turning into a puddle of tears and joy because he appeared as if he was trying to memorize your face.
Every curvature and lines, from the color of your hair towards the shape of your lips. Geralt was gazing down as if you held a part of his life that he surely didn't want to miss; he was staring like you've made him see a world he never has seen before.
Those kind of gazes where he was looking like you have taught him such a wonderful word that he was trying to remember---a word he never knew could be felt.
Just like how you have been looking into his eyes since that moment you have in his home.
Love.
Geralt's fingers grazed along the sleeves of your dress as he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Still petty as ever, my sweet lambkin."
Your heart quickly reacted, running wild from the odd and sugared nickname that made your mind be heedful of the faltering anger which didn't seem to be steady for what its purpose should be. The roughness of his fingers that tickled your ear made the butterflies flutter frantically.
"The heck you calling me a lamb for?"
It was your immediate word of a quick, maddened retort. Your tone was stingy, helding out sharp knives that couldn't be dropped from remembering what he has done prior before he left the castle; remembering how puzzled and confused he was over who you really are for him, leaving no assurance that you were it.
Moments like this were the ones that also give you hope that you were beyond than just a lay.
You tilted your head away from his touch with eyebrows scrunched together. Geralt gave a subtle shake of his head, a faint scowl filling his face from the dejected reaction he apparantly hated.
The witcher hummed through his disappointment. His rough, calloused fingers slipping across the hollow part of your neck. Delicately cupping whilst he gradually leaned down closer to your height and face.
"My tiny, naive midget," he droned. A thumb easing to caress the side of your jaw that has given you goosebumps and palpitations.
Geralt managed to smile regardless of your upset state. Allegedly, he has heard your wild heart and another faint beat that captured his unconsciousness. Howbeit, the witcher's charmed and poisoned state made him walk on earth like he had no soul nor a brain to function properly.
The poison was finally and fully seeping through.
"---I don't know whose scent must it be,"
"A liar at his finest," he was teasing. You were sure of it as you squinted your eyes back at him. Cradling or holding ones face has always been sweet to see in your perspective especially when the person in front of you was tenderly gazing down like you were his sun and moon. Geralt had a habit when he was in his soft mood to subtly hold you dearly and it wasn't constant. He has his withdrawn moods and also the soft, loving ones where you were reading the signs differently than what you actually expected.
The latter bibulously held his stare, his smile fading beneath the sunshine of morning. You have never seen him this way and it was making you ask the most eccentric things.
"Geralt, are you drunk over nothing?"
For the lot time of the day, he'd seen the fading scars; he noticed how your scent changed into something more supple including the texture of your skin till how your skin glowed beneath the rays of the sun. A contrast of his consciousness and the other just like how you were giving him doubts as to what has happened to you back in the castle.
"Did they touch you?" he firmly pressed, his aureate eyes searching your face closely before he even had the chance to coddle.
You squinted your eyes back at the witcher, misunderstanding his meaning or probably understanding that what you thought was what he actually meant based on how frank he is.
"Are you on some sort of drug then?"
"Did they touch you?" the white haired weccan repeated, taking no heed over the question. His scowl resurfacing his once delighted one.
Pulling away from his hold, Geralt kept unwavering. Keeping you near his sight with your face turned to see the change in his amber that turned sincere, worried and anxious which was completely unabiding since the moment you've stepped foot out of the castle.
"N-No. They didn't, okay?" you quietly stammered, blinking and swallowing the anxiety down your throat in which the witcher didn't seem to go unnoticed from how he secretly knew your gestures.
With your heart jumping in hurdles, Geralt of Rivia and his eerieness pulled your heart strings. The fingers you longed to keep together passed by the soft strands of your hair, clipping them behind your ear with his thick, rough fingers that he eventually slipped behind the curtains of your hair, fully leaning down to gently touch his forehead with yours.
He was closing his eyes as he does so whilst on the other hand, your eyes turned into saucers who stared upon the witcher. The dimpled tip of his nose grazing with yours which has licked your spine.
Geralt was definitely acting strange because he had never been this sweet to you until that moment you had with him on the lake.
"Your scent was on their hands. Everywhere I go, you're always near. Even through smelling your scent from knights I hardly wish to give mercy," he grumbled more to himself, breathing in deep as a pause in the midst of his sentence. Your scent entirely bombarding his heightened palates, making him reach Neverland whenever you were close by.
You've stared upon his chapped, busted lip. The pulp painted in specks of crimson for what has happened and the other, over dramatic thought you had in mind was that he has kissed another and a certain flirt probably bit his lip along the way made you scrunch your nose.
The latter couldn't help but subtly smile as he breathed again for how his next words sounded and created vivid images inside his head.
"---The number of knights I have slaughtered wasn't enough. I...can feel you. Every second of the day, Midget. You were scared and filled with woe," Geralt honestly and gruffly stated, a low growl vibrating his slightly wrecked body armor.
He covetly turned his head, subtly leaning in close to offer or wish for a kiss he adamantly desired since the moment you both parted ways with grudging hearts; with a want to ask for forgiveness but his virtues and opinions made it hard to.
But his poisoned self was making him act what he truly would imagine about; speak words that his unintoxicated self would never have spoken.
You've felt the warmth of his breath upon your lips, your heart striving to cross the mountains. Howbeit, never thinking twice, the shame has made you retract away. Turning your head to stubbornly reject his planned ministrations.
The rejection has never made Geralt unenthusiastic as he continued to lean in close. He cossets your skin with the tender plump of his lips. Drawing a circle upon the apples of your cheeks till the tip of your ear. His mollycodding apparently hitched your breath to stop from forming any coherent words that was possible.
Geralt of Rivia obviously knew he was at fault and he's trying to apologize by how a real man should do by treating you oh-so-delicately, peppering your face with kisses as he continued to whisper abnormalities.
"I heard you in the castle when you hardly speak to me. I've heard it again like it was a word I wanted to hear. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." he gravelly hummed against your ear, leaving you in a baffle and frankly breathing in that pleasant scent behind.
You momentarily pulled away when you've felt your unconsciousness try to grab onto the big, tall brooding man who was simply the man of your dreams. Gathering the strength back from how Geralt was trying to make you weak on the knees, you stepped a foot away. Looking utterly off-guard and yearning for what he could offer. The idea of his child inside of you making it harder to stay mad for what he has said before.
"What are you saying? when? what? what the heck, Geralt..."
He was spitting complexity and confusement. You crossed your arms, acting tough against the big bad wolf who was obviously winning with those surprisingly soft looking pair of eyes he had going. Geralt automatically stepped closer, never giving you the personal space you wanted as you raise a brow back at him and shook your head.
He shook his head back, firmly as he does so. His gestures telling that you were never leaving his sight as he quickly took your elbow, forcing you to stay with a tight firm hold as you stood in the middle of the meadow.
Geralt's eyes on you were heavy, subtly desperate and hopeful. Such faith that you couldn't understand where he was coming from as he started again, "---Back at the time I had ravished you all around our home. Those words have made me question myself if I do deserve this---if I deserve you or everything,"
Shaking your head, you interrupted his speech and tried to wiggle your way out of his hold but he kept you still.
"TMI."
A part of his thoughts was the only side you could comprehend. The latter, utterly incomprehensible for what words he was pertaning to because as far as you could remember, you weren't voicing out words that could make him confused in the middle of your daylight bonkings.
His mouth formed a tighter line of a grimace, the words leaving his mouth sounding like it was difficult to ingest. How it sounded to be too good to be true that the butcher of Blaviken was emitting grandiloquent sentences and tones that would give people a heart attack for his strange moment.
"---Back when you called me using a succulent endearment in the middle of our delightful---"
Your brows raised to the fullest as he suddenly ceased from completing the thought of his words. Sharing a scornful, amused laugh, you shook your head when you've heard him hum in such a peculiar, tasteless sound that has got you knowing that he wanted something else rather than the honesty he wanted to know.
"Oh, I know your ways. This is you---asking for---"
Bold as a fly, Geralt blinked a slow one. The color of his face turning paler more and more each second; how foggy he appeared to be through those Aurum eyes---more so than a while ago.
Without being unforthright as it was Geralt of Rivia talking, he mumbled a demand that has gotten you cringing from how blunt and serious he actually sounded. Probably also having a little bit of desperation in between his words.
"Sleep with me."
"Aw. Such a sweet way to ask me for sex, Geralt."
"Let's have a...date," the witcher momentarily paused, making you think he was being creative and thoughtful for what he planned on how to apologize---changing what he actually wanted but ended up dragging the heat to your cheeks once again as he firmly stood on his ground.
"---in bed then. Activities included."
He was definitely the worse for wear.
Embarrassment for such a lewd offer has made your eyes roll for him. With a want to kick him in the shins for thinking with his dick, you've eyed him from head to toe which has made him aware for what your impulsive and clumsy self were thinking. Tightening your fist, you've narrowed your eyes at Geralt---a warning that he was this close into tasting the wrath of a midget indeed.
Your very own upgraded Legolas shifted on his feet, instantly taking both of his hands and intertwining them in front of his leather-clothed crotch as a mindful and subtle way of guarding his jewels.
"Not the balls," he gruffly warned, earning a sassy scowl from the witcher. You rapidly blinked twice, feigning a shocked expression as he continued to convince with a sneering smile, "---you were about to punch my dick---don't ask why I know. You were looking."
"I---I wasn't staring at your crotch!?"
Caught from the rush of being read like the back of his hand, you silently screamed inside your head for sounding and feeling like your days of anger and disappointment was fleeting in just a day of seeing the weccan. The tough facade you were trying to toughly put up for hours end was breaking with just his presence.
"Forgive me, little lambkin." and probably also a lot maudlin than what you can ever imagine him to be when you heard him apologized tenderly with a rasp.
Geralt was drunk. You thought in the back of your head as you intently judged his sozzled appearance. Putting your mind at rest for his inebriation, you rolled your eyes for the second time and spun on your heels as you tried to leave him alone with his own solitude since he would pretty much prefer that rather than having you around.
Before you could take a step foot forward, the witcher was rapid enough to haul you fully in his thewy arms, grabbing you from behind as he towered. His forelimb surrounding your waist whilst he breathed on the crook of your neck.
The hairs on your arms stood for his sudden intimacy.
"It was a torture to be with Tybalt...for days," he gravelly spouted, humming against your skin and you were sure he could hear how your heart was jumping in hurdles and sprinting for a race, "---a torture to not be with you and knowing...you were mad at me. You hardly talked last night."
Jaskier was right. Geralt was retching in some stinky guts of some monster. Howbeit, it didn't decrease how fast your heartbeat was pounding against your ear. He was still Geralt, your Geralt---the man you finally know who he is in your life.
A peculiar man you love that seemed to be impossible to believe because he felt like a fantasy that will eventually fade when the time comes.
"Oh, really now?" you croaked, feeling your throat tighten from having your feelings hoarded for days already. Maybe, it was time he knew what your true feelings actually were, "---and wait until you call me pathetic again?"
Perhaps, you were willing to finally take risks in this so-called fear that people are scared of.
"I don't mean that," Geralt trailed off, seeming to be caught in his own daydream as he blinked and sneaked a peep from the side of your head---seeing you scowling like a maddened kitten. His face utterly close that it felt heady for how intense the proximity was.
"I don't believe you." you calmly barked, emphasizing the tone that you were using.
"You never do."
The brooding witcher gruffly hissed, uncoiling his arms that enveloped your waist, breaking the hug that felt like an Ephemeral for how he has stood on his full height again. Geralt unconsciously took offense for what he heard, barking back a rejoinder that you obviously took offense as well.
"It's because you're not giving me a reason to believe you, Geralt."
His body shook for the tangible growl that he omitted. The white haired weccan's mouth forming a tight thin line as he tried to bridle his own tongue for speaking more of what his sharp mouth could do. Definitely becoming uncertain prior to the argument for what was left.
"I've given all the reason I can, Midget." he firmly mumbled, deeply sighing as he eyed you down; crossed arms, a pouty lip and a stubborn will to be bent. Geralt was sure it was more difficult to woo you over than how he usually does because you had more issues kept, "---accepted you, slaughtered men for you and even beg to a king who deserved none of my mercy,"
He licked his chapped lips, sending a sharp look across the side of where you both stood. Geralt's chest becoming more unbearable for the bane that was slowly slithering through his senses---wrecking him more.
You've heard him breathe hard, his amber eyes genuine and utterly fed up as he continued to persuade for your affection.
"Now, tell me. Am I not giving enough reason for you to believe that you're more important than her?"
It was the way how the end of his sentence sounded; or the way how he was eyeing you from where he stood as if he was silently pleading for you to take his apologies, or the tender and soft look in those pupils that you would never get tired of dreaming of.
If this was what love felt like then you prefer to have this in exchange for your life back in earth.
With a swallow of another, your mouth pursed longer---voice sounding utmost quiet and defeated because of how your mind was influencing your senses, "You haven't even seen her yet. You're only saying this because I'm in front of you,"
"What do you want me to do for you to believe me?"
"You. I want all of you, Geralt. No misunderstandings or in-denialness. I want the truth,"
Today was the day to drop the bomb. The right time for a confession that would release the anxious and giddy feeling inside whenever he was always near---or the care that you have always given but seemed to be ignored by the brooding man in front of you.
You were finally going to tell him how you love him. Was it common in their world for a woman to confess? was it normal to love a mutated human being who had more empathy than people who lived in his dimension and yours despite of how he believed himself to be lacking in that department?
Stepping foot closer to him, you've thoroughly tilted your head to stare into his baffled pair of golden. Engrossed in deciphering what was being said---your words sounding more like an echo as the poison was eating him alive. His senses muddling his head and playing with it like a darn piñata.
You wanted all of him. Geralt couldn't help but keep silent, heavily breathing through his nose as he fought for how lightheaded he was starting to feel with his slow heart ringing so loud in his ears because of how everything was starting to become unbalanced.
"---Because I've already given my all to you. Including my heart and soul." pause. "---I love you. Not just as a friend or what sort. I love you for you. I love everything about you and I accept every scars and parts of you that no other would ever do."
I love you. Geralt heard the words again. It was baffling him if these were starting to be illusions or perceptions he wanted to hear from you. His vision was going round and round. The sweet word ringing inside his head---a word he hardly believed to be true for a witcher to receive nor be felt. He deeply hummed in the midst of his inebriated state, a glower filling his face which you have caught in the middle of your confession.
You couldn't help but frown as well for thinking that this moment will turn back to you in misfortune---to receive the opposite of what you hoped for.
Geralt's vision was starting to turn blurry, he couldn't help but blink twice, trying to see clarity for how you were looking as you speak. Yet, you were fading; and the witcher didn't want that. He deeply growled another, letting you receive his negations over the whole ordeal and you couldn't help but try to convince him further for a love you see true.
"I don't care if you slaughter beasts or have a horrid past because I still love you,"
The latter's knees were turning weaker as he tried to stand on his ground. Geralt eyelids were fluttering shut the more you talk. He heavily placed a hand on your shoulder for support, the other cupping your neck as he tried hard to keep his eyes open. His thoughts staying inside his head as it was becoming more difficult to talk---feeling every part of his limbs benumbing.
"Midget..."
As he grabbed onto you, his dizzyness have been turned a blind eye. Your anxiety over the whole confession making you nervous as you didn't notice Geralt's heavy breathing---how he was trying to catch onto your attention that he was about to faint; that he needed your help.
When all of a sudden, his shaking knees got the better of him---bending at the poison's will as he was currently on his knees, still appearing to be taller than you.
Your poisoned Geralt intently stared into your eyes, his gaze looking past you like you weren't there.
You continued to run your mouth on him, thoroughly single-minded over not noticing the environment and how his state was in.
"See what I mean? that's the best answer I get all the time and this is why I don't want to confess to you!" his words ended up being a grudging hum, deeper and utterly rough as you were unstoppable, "---now, shush. Please, before you reject me---I need to tell you something first. Please don't freak out on me or have me eaten by a Kikimoo? A mora? whatever...Ughm, Remember you told me you have heightened 'everything'?"
"Hmm."
Geralt's face turned paler and you couldn't help but frown tighter, grabbing onto his face with your hands, feeling how he was burning against your touch. He was probably hating your confession, you thought at the back of your head because he was reacting that way.
Howbeit, it was now or never. He needed to know that you both were expecting a child made out of magic...and a one-sided love?
You've shook his head in your hands when Geralt was fighting off how his eyes wanted to shut, trying to catch his attention. Briefly, tucking a strand of his disheveled white hair away from his eyes.
The gentle action was recognizable and Geralt couldn't help but subtly and unconsciously give a very subtle smile in between the need to faint.
"Remember how you're so confident to never have pulled out because of your witcher tales of infertility?"
His breathing was turning harsher; his body in inferno for what the poison was. The bane eating his insides as it was finally hurting but the witcher hardly let anyone notices his pain and continued to endure it to himself.
He'd given you the gander, still giving a brooding scowl as he stared upon your lips, trying to read them through your mouth. Your voice sounding more like a faint mumbling of incoherent words in his perspective.
"Speak...bluntly,"
The rumble of his voice against his armor added more apprehension for a woman who was about to admit the life of her child to a man who was known to be infertile in his world, "Could you hear...the heartbeat of our little one? our baby? a bairn?"
Geralt of Rivia abruptly shut his eyes open upon hearing the wild concession. It rang inside his head, the idea of having a child of his own living inside of you was too good to be true, or probably dangerous to have.
"A child? Fuck." the weccan cursed, firmly grabbing onto the side of your jaw and turning your head to fully look into his eyes---searching for lies in your admission.
Somehow, he saw none but only sincerity.
You were speaking the truth, but he still couldn't believe it because the lore has always been correct in terms of every witcher's procreation. He can never bore a child no matter how hard he tries because of the process of becoming a witcher; the alchemical processes, mutagenic compounds and intense physical and magical training. Even a sorceress who wanted wanted to become a mother was not even given the fortune to because of magic.
So, how were you---a woman who lived in another dimension and was lost in his, bore a child of a witcher?
Here you were. Spreading miracles for him to hardly believe.
Geralt frowned before you, his head earning negative thoughts and thinking wild preassumptions and hypothesis upon your admittance, "Is it from Jaskier?"
he momentarily paused, eyes all wide and cutting off his gaze before his eyes landed on yours again. This time he was offended, hurt and utterly in dere for what he was thinking.
He was shooting daggers for your sudden fib. You were telling him a cock and bull story that no other people can ever believe. If you were pregnant with Jaskier's child, then you should've told him the truth; if you both were fucking behind his back---you should've become more truthful than for him to adopt a child of another.
The Bard. He cursed to the gods he never believed as he bared his teeth.
"I can never bore a child, Y/N---we can never bore a child! You know this!" he promptly barked, making you jump from your spot because of his sudden energy that he lacked before. Geralt felt your surprise from his reaction, dragging a thumb across the apple of your cheeks to soothe your distress.
"---fucking Jaskier..."
You've given him a fierce glare, growling before the surprising, touchy witcher who was being mean for your pregnancy. You couldn't believe it. Geralt was thinking you had another man aside from him---his friend whom he has suddenly given doubts that you both were being Finks behind his back.
You could never.
"She is not from Jaskier!" you angrily fumed, huffing and shaking his hold away from your face. Slapping his hands off but his low growl and weakened strength kept his fingers against your skin, "---I can't fucking believe you, Geralt!"
"I...I..." with one last muffled scream for his foolishness, you've frustratedly washed your face with a hand. Geralt's fists now on his knees as he stared on the ground, completely downfounded, stupefied and dreadful for such an unbelievable information.
Thump. There were two. It wasn't from anyone but it all came from you. He'd notice it back in the castle from the moment he came back, yet he ignored the signs.
A child of his own with a woman who loved all of him.
This was obviously just hallucinations that the poison was trying to make him think of. It was probably images inside his head that he subtly wanted to happen.
---To have you swollen with his child despite of the truth that he can never be given even with all the chances that the continent can ever bring and for you to be devoted; and to love all of his peculiarity and abnormalities.
"Another child...but with my own blood," the poisoned witcher grumbled as he could feel his head throbbing. The void trying to eat him alive and swallow him whole, "---that I need to swore and protect again...This...must be a dream,"
His head leaned forward until it hit your chest. You've turned your head down to see Geralt with his eyes closed, breathing shallow as his forehead fell on the flexure of your neck. His dimpled nose touching your skin with his body scorching hot and it was not because of a filthy thing that you both normally do in a regular basis.
Geralt was thoroughly unconscious in your arms.
Your heart jumped for the scare that it was experiencing. You gently grabbed onto the side of his face, trying to shake him awake.
"Geralt?! Geralt!" and another, but it was no use as his face was as white as his tresses.
The weccan was heavy in your embrace. You couldn't help but quickly scream for help as it was a stound where your knowledge upon his sudden unconsciousness were useless because of thinking that he has been bitten by a monster you definitely didn't know.
Kolby was howling in the background as you hollered for help again. This time, louder and more clearer. The birds chirping turning more of a scream rather than a beautiful music, with Ravens flying up above and a portion of brisk, cold air hugging you and the unconscious white haired witcher who fainted in your arms.
"Jaskier! Cirilla! Something's wrong with Geralt!"
Maybe the confession had not been the right time and also for the baby which has been made as well.