Author's Note: Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at writing a Fan Fiction. Feeling engrossed in the Witcher universe I just had to put my thoughts on paper, and hopefully they have turned out well. All criticism will be graciously accepted. My thanks goes out to Danish Existence, for the advice he has given me. This is the first chapter in a planned 3 chapter story.

Disclaimers: This piece has not been Beta-read. This piece of work is an adaptation to the writing of Andrzej Sapkowski and to the work of CD Projeckt Red. This is for mature audiences, for it contains violence, blood, offensive language, and graphic sexual situations.

Chapter One: The Start

A rustle in the bushes made Geralt spring up. The scent in the bushes around him resembled a wolf, but the scent was familiar. 'Smells of gooseberries and… lilac,' Geralt thought to himself. This was no ordinary creature.

Staying in the cover of the foliage around him, the wolf circled Geralt. He caught a glimpse of black fur among the plants. The movement had stopped, and the beast moved towards him. As an impulse, Geralt drew his sword as he would for any wolf. This creature however, proved less threatening upon the sight of it. The eyes were what had caught his attention, a violet blaze emitted from them. They felt as if they were piercing into him, but they had filled him with a known warmth. The wolf neared closer to Geralt till it reached his feet. For a reason unbeknownst to him, Geralt felt not stress as he should, but tranquility. Reaching a hand out to this wolf, beckoning it forward, he sheathed his blade. The violet eyed beast had accepted his gesture and rubbed its face on Geralt's hand. This brought a soft smile to the witcher's face, as if this touch brought him happiness that he longed for. Within a moment of the touch, the wolf clamped its jaws upon his hand, drawing blood. Feeling frozen in place, betrayed, he stood still as the wolf sneered at him and ran off.

Blood from the bite flowed slowly now, for witchers recover their wounds with haste. Situations like these have made Geralt who he is. While he had offered this black wolf kindness the wolf gave him pain. Geralt always had to have on an air of fortitude, for that is what is needed in his line of work. His true self he only let show around those dearest to him, but those times were sparse.

Dreary was his feeling after this conflict with the wolf and he settled back down on the forest floor. He heard more rustling coming from the bushes around him, but the sound was light so he thought nothing of it. Before Geralt had drifted into sleep, he felt a wet tongue brush along his bitten hand. He opened his eyes and met those of another animal, this time a fox. It was a gentle creature of which had a pelt the shade of chestnut and eyes as blue as the oceans of Skellige. Feeling cared for, Geralt let himself slip back to sleep. While he slept and after the fox had licked Geralt's wound clean, the nurturing animal curled up to his hand and slept itself.

-[/\]-

A cool breeze had crept under the door of Geralt's room, sending shivers up his neck and waking him from his dream. He was staying at a dump inn named, "Two Trails", in a simple village a couple miles south of Wyzima. Unluckily for Geralt, he could not afford much better board. The contracts he was getting came far and few, but every Oren, Floren, Mark, and Crown earned was fully appreciated. Things were however looking up for the Alderman in the village he was boarding had a situation with some horned beast. From his lead that he had received back when he traveled through Wyzima, there was a horned beast two oxen tall and a road wide that had been laying waste to wagons on the road. Though he would help the people of this village, all that was concerning him was the pay.

He rose up from his bed and slipped his boots on that had not fully dried form yesterday's rain. He threw on his jacket that he dearly needed to replace, a Nekker had ripped a hole under his right sleeve. The Nekker had paid dearly for that. Finally adjusting the leather strap of his sheaths on his chest, he was set to go and speak to the Alderman.

The inn which Geralt had stayed in was practically abandoned besides himself and two peasant men at a table taking part in a quiet conversation. As he walked by the two men, one had leaned over and spat on his shoe. The reason why Geralt chose to help these people besides the money he would never know. Saying nothing to the men and dropping a few crowns on the bar to pay for his room, he made his way out onto the streets. They were muddy from the rain of yesterday and the feeling of the mud was unpleasant to him, for he liked to stay clean when he could. Cursing to himself, Geralt continued to slosh through the mud on his way to the Alderman's house. It was early, before the second crow of the cock, but Geralt preferred to take care of things as fast as he could. Approaching the door of the Alderman's hut he gave the door a rapid knock.

"Who the bloody fuck is knocking at this time?" said the Alderman.

"Your witcher for higher," Geralt retorted, with a level of irritation in his voice.

"Oh! My apologies master witcher, give me a moment." Geralt heard the sound of pans and bowls moving from inside the hut as he waited patiently, leaning on the door post.

The Alderman opened the door, appearing to be in his late fifties, giving Geralt of smile that bode not an ounce of happiness. "Welcome to our quaint village master witcher," giving him a short bow, "I hope the inn served you well."

"Besides the rickety bed and the constant draft, it was just fine. Now what can you tell me of this horned monster who is destroying wagons?" said Geralt, wanting to get to the point and cut the pleasantries.

"Well," the Alderman said as he spat in the dirt, "Just a few weeks past everything was quite calm in these here parts. Then one morn' a man came yelling bloody murder from the road down south. I thought him just a drunk at first, but then I saw the man had gashes over his chest and he was losing quite a lot of blood. I tried to help stop the bleeding but the man had nothin' left in him. I found a parchment in his pocket that showed he was leading a cart up north to Wyzima full of spices and dried meats."

"Did this man have any other injuries on him besides the gashes?" questioned Geralt.

"Now that you mention that, the man did come runnin' with quite a limp in his stride. Methinks his leg was broken. No, shattered," said the Alderman, obviously trying hard to remember. It could be hard for him, Geralt thought, for the Alderman reeked of stout.

"Okay, he was hit with a lot of force then. Has anyone ventured down to his cart?"

"Yes, one of our brave young men Sigrid went out to catch a peek at the cart. From what he told me the cart had been smashed to pieces and if the man was transporting meat, well it was all gone," said the Alderman. The meat would've attracted any monster, unfortunately for the cart driver, this monster was a big one.

"My lead told me that there were 'Wagons' that had been destroyed. Have there been more?" asked Geralt.

The Alderman waited a moment to respond. "Two more carts have been found, but the drivers for those haven't been seen. You can find them a ways down the road south."

"Alright I will head on that ways soon. First, what will my pay be?" Geralt desperately needed more coin.

The Alderman, expecting this question calmly said, "How does 200 crowns sound?" Though not sounding like much, Geralt needed that coin, even though it was a little low for a monster that could maim a man and shatter a cart to pieces. He was not going to push for higher pay.

"Sounds good to me sir, I will be off now," giving the Alderman a grateful bow before he went.

-[/\]-

Geralt had begun his trek down the road south of the village on Roach in search of the maimed man's cart. A few ideas came to Geralt's mind as to what the monster could be, but most likely to him was a Chort. A rather large one at that. The man's leg was probably shattered when the Chort charged the cart, making the cart shatter as well. Knowing Chorts for having quite an appetite, Geralt thought the food cart was easy food for it.

As he was riding down the road, he encountered a heavy aroma that was on the side of the road. 'Must be the spice cart," Geralt thought to himself. He dismounted roach and drew his sword, just in case. When he found a trail of blood leading to the village, he determined it was the blood of the cart driver. Continuing further on off road, he found the wreckage of the cart. At the wreckage there were spice jars laying around broken, a horse carcass that was chewed on to the bone, and wood splinters everywhere. On a chunk of wood he found the indents of horns, of which resembled those of a ram. The monster had to be a Chort, for no other creature could cause this much damage with their horns but such a creature.

Geralt noticed large tracks that were laid in an odd fashion, showing the Chort was probably disoriented from ramming into the cart. Upon reaching a cave opening which smelt strongly of dung and rotting flesh, he had found the beast's lair. Pausing for a moment, he looked in his side pouch for a vial of Cat and knocked it back, so he could see better in the cave's darkness. As he descended into the cave, he heard a low growl coming from inside the cave chamber he had just entered. The witcher put a special oil on his silver blade to increase its lethality against the Chort. There was a large grey haired animal sleeping in a distant corner of the cave.

Geralt sneaked up to the sleeping animal and decided to start with a thrust into the creature's spine, sending blood spewing in the air. It woke with a loud cry as it flailed its short limbs at him. Quickly back stepping the Chorts efforts to land a blow, he mad one of his own, horizontally slicing into one of the monsters limbs. This precise blow yielded another screech of pain. The beast stood up and faced the witcher and started to charge. However it was wounded to it stumbled in its charge and smashed its head against the cave wall. Rendering the creature unconscious, this made Geralt's job easy. With an almost effortless chop, he severed the Chorts head form its body, and he put the head in a sack.

Before Geralt left the cave he observed it for signs of the other two missing cart drivers. Finding them in pieces with pain frozen on the face of the cart driver who still had one. The other man died fast, as his face was crushed. He searched the bodies for anything to identify them, but found nothing.

Time had passed a bit since the witcher went into the cave, but it was still before noon. Slinging the sack containing the Chort head over Roach's haunches, he rode hastily back to the village. The village had woken up since the last time he was there, but no one livened up at the sight of him and the large bloody sack that drooped off the side of Roach.

Geralt approached the Alderman's house a second time, heaving the sack of the dismembered head with him to the door. Knocking at the door, and again, the Alderman made some brash remark but Geralt didn't care to hear it. The Alderman opened the door and now didn't only smelled of stout, but it was clear he had a lot of it, and it was not even mid-day.

"Was the *belch* contract a success witcher?" mumbled the drunk Alderman, struggling to keep still.

"Yes," Geralt said as he threw the sack on the ground with a thud, "Now what about my 200 crowns?"

The Alderman looked confused for a moment then gained some form of enlightenment for he threw Geralt a hefty pouch, "There is 250, found 50 crowns on the man's corpse when I looked at it again. He'd want you to have it for killing that fat bastard."

"Thank you very much," replied Geralt, "I will be on my way now. If you have any more problems in the future I will be glad to help. Farewell." This quaint village stinking of piss, mud, and cheap booze, Geralt never wished to enter again. The inn was terrible.

-[/\]-

'The ground here is more comfortable than that old bed,' thought Geralt as he made camp in a clearing a good five miles away from the village. Setting a bundle of sticks down, he moved is left hand in a way that made fire spew out, igniting his campfire. 'Always the dammed rain here,' he thought as he peeled his boots off his feet, setting them beside the fire to dry. The ground that he had settled on had a thick covering of moss, and tall grass surrounding his campsite. Roach neighed quietly with glee as she nibbled on a few long strands. Slipping into his fur bed roll, Geralt tried to fall asleep. Something felt missing. He felt the need for warmth, although the fire was burning bright. The space beside him felt empty, as if something belonged. Making himself comfortable after a time of pondering, he then went to sleep.

Dreaming again this night, he had the same vision. The black wolf biting him and running away, then the fox coming to help him. Unlike the dream of the night before, the fox instead of curling on his hand, lay beside him in the space that had felt empty. This filled him with the warmth he had desired, making him wonder why. 'Why is this dream bringing me comfort?' Geralt had thought to himself. The dream was pleasant, and made him think of what he needed to fill this space when he awoke.

Waking up with a face covered in the morning's dew, he got up and rested on his knees. Dawn was a couple hours off, so this time was spent meditating. This time was needed for Geralt to hone his thoughts and mind, to control his breathing and to ready himself for a day on the road. Dawn started to break as he raised himself. Mounting Roach, they traveled down the road. The destination of his travel he did not know, nor would he ever.

Dawn was nice this morning, not a cloud in the sky and a touch of heat was in the air. No one was around, which let Geralt keep a steady gallop along the road. The rain from two days past had finally dried and the roads were clear of puddles. Through an abandoned village he went, the huts in disrepair and decaying away. Nothing seemed to have forced anyone out of the empty settlement, so Geralt felt no immediate threat. Until there was a cry of terror in the distance. Dismounting his horse and drawing his steel, we ran deftly towards the sound of commotion. There was two large men standing by a hut beating a man with two bludgeons.

"Get off of me you stinking pigs!" screamed the man who was being beaten. "Shut your trap you plowing goat fucker," said one of the assailants as he walloped the man on the head, knocking him out cold. The men then started to search the body. Pulling out a satchel and umping its contents on the ground, which included many pieces of parchment. This man was a courier.

"Is there a problem here you 'goat fuckers?" said Geralt coldly, straightening his spine.

"Get out of here you cat eyed freak, before I beat the piss out of you," said one of the two ruffians, spitting venom through his words. That was not going to help his case.

In two bounds, Geralt connected his silver studded fist to the man's jaw, feeling it crack with his punch. The second man drew a stiletto from under his trousers and gave a yell as he ran at the witcher, lunging at him. Side stepping the attempt, then by doing a half-pirouette Geralt's steel had caught the man's legs, making him topple over with a screech of pain as blood spilt over the dirt. He gathered the two men and tied them up to the fence post of a deserted hut. With the problem taken care of, the witcher came to the beaten courier. Helping the bruised man to his feet, the courier came to and said in a mutter, "Thank you sir…," before he fainted.

One of the huts had still been in fair condition, and Geralt set the man down on a cushioned chair. An animal skin of mead found on one of the ruffians that had attacked the courier was a nice surprise and enough of a reward to Geralt for now. He had also gathered the parchments for the courier's satchel, a bundle of letters with seals he did not recognize. Geralt rarely received letters since he was always moving around the north. If a letter found him it was by pure chance. There were only a handful of seals that he knew. A wolf's head which came from Kaer Morhen, of which his ward Ciri was building it back to its fabled glory with the help of Lambert and Eskel along with a few other friends and workers. The boars head of Cerys an Craite, queen of Skellige. The raven of… he would rather not recall the sender of those. The three lilies of Vernon Roach, the leader of Temeria. There was another seal… Triss's seal, but he could not remember what it was.

While Geralt was thinking, the courier had come to. Moaning in pain the man stretched his body in all directions he could.

"Don't overdo it friend," said the witcher, handing the man the skin of mead.

The man jumped at Geralt's words and observed his savior. "Would you be, by some chance, Geralt of Rivia?" said the man with a look of relief on his face.

"I would be him, why do you care to know?" replied Geralt.

"Thank the gods I have found you! I have been searching for you for about two month now. I have seen enough of the north to last me the rest of the days. Did you know in Vel-"

"I would thank the gods that I found you if I were you. Had I decided to stay in camp a few more minutes you would probably be dead now at the hands of those swine. Now tell me why I have been searched for?" said Geralt, cutting off the courier and crossing his arms over his chest.

"My apologies master witcher for my tangent. I had received a task to deliver one letter to no one but yourself, and as fast as possible. The pay was good, too good I thought, but then I learned tracking you down would be quite the hassle. If you would kindly hand me my satchel- oh, thank you. Now let me see here… ah! Here it is."

The courier handed Geralt a letter with a seal of a rose in red wax. "Who gave you the task to deliver this letter?" questioned the white haired witcher, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"I do not entirely know sir, a man had approached me with the task, but I know that he was not the writer of it. No man of his stature would use a seal," responded the courier with certainty.

"First glances do not always prove everything. Many people are prone to deceiving."

"If this man was deceiving me then he was doing a dammed impeccable job at it," retorted the man, offended a little.

"Alright alright," said Geralt, "I believe you. I will read this letter shortly and you can tell you employer that your delivery was a success. But first, would you like to pay your regards to those two kind men outside?" Geralt purposed, as he was handing the courier a club that one of the men had used with a crooked smile.

"Oh with pleasure master witcher, with pleasure," the man said, returning the smile.

On their walk outside, they stopped, shook hands and went their separate ways. While mounting Roach, Geralt heard a few distinct thuds of a club against bone. 'The man can swing harder than I thought,' he had thought with a grin of satisfaction.

-[/\]-

The day however was late, the sun was maybe two hours from its fall. After an hour of brisk riding, Geralt had found a doable site to camp. A small clearing next to a cedar with a fallen log laid on the side of the clearing. Gathering some small stones in a circle in the middle of the clearing, Geralt gathered some wood and made a fire like he had the night before with Igni.

Finally with his camp set up, he sat on the fallen log and broke the red rose seal of the letter. From the letter fell a single red rose petal that Geralt caught in his hand. The smell of this petal was strong, nearly intoxicating. It looked like something he had seen before but he could not pin it down exactly. He out the petal in his chest pocket for it smelled decent and held a matter of importance. Then, as he looked at the letter, the first words had surprised him, for no one has ever said these words to him and meant it.

'I have missed you Geralt, dearly.

I remember the last time I saw you, after the Wild Hunt had been defeated and we had gone back to Kaer Morhen. I did not wish to go, but I went for Cirilla, and what I found there took me aback. I expected to see you and… and Yennefer… sitting together and laughing joyously together. I prepared myself for that, for it was what I expected. However I was wrong. I saw you standing apart from her, with no affection connecting the two of you. I was so sure you were going to be together, for as long as I knew about you two. It broke my heart that we had to separate so you could find your Yen, leaving no place for me anymore. Oh the nights I stayed up, asking myself why I could not be the one by your side, filled me with many tears. After seeing you without Yennefer in the picture I was so confused. But I remembered those days you spent in Novigrad, the party, the kiss… I was drunk, but I had felt the emotion in it. I said sorry for I did not know what else to say to it. After we sailed off to Kovir, I saw you stay on the dock, I saw your eyes watching me as far as you could. I did not know what to feel… I just suspected that was you making a little sacrifice for me. After it was all over and what I had suspected about you and Yen did not come into fruition I felt all of my old feelings rush back. You probably don't remember it, but the night I had showed up at Kaer Morhen when I first met Cirilla, you told me how happy you were that I was alive, and more that I was there. Those words broke me and we shared a moment I never wanted to end. I am just going on and on but you do not know how happy I am that you are out of Yen's claws… how she treated you I would never wish on anyone. All I ever wanted was to be by your side and take care of you, be there when you needed me, but there was never room. Until now. Please think of what I have said, think about me, and think about you too. I don't want to be a disappointment or mistake anymore…

The Rose has started to bloom… I will be waiting…

Sincerely, Triss Merigold'

Geralt folded the piece of parchment and leaned back to stare at the night sky. 'Why did I have to make that wish…? I could have been happy. Triss was under the effect of no magic but yet she cared about me like no one else has,' Geralt thought to himself with regret. Caring for Triss was something he did not because of a wish, but because she truly meant something to him. Triss was there when Geralt needed her the most, she was there when it mattered. Shame is what covered Geralt, for what he needed was always there but never within reach. 'At the break of dawn I shall head for Kovir, I need to see her.' Putting the letter from Triss in his pocket along with the rose petal he hurriedly went to sleep.

Visiting the clearing in his dream for the third time, Geralt saw no violet eyed wolf, and no chestnut fox. Laying on his bedroll he felt his camp fire reignite, and he felt a figure slide next to him. It was no animal, but a woman. The woman emanated heat as well she smelt of roses and had hair the color of chestnut bunched in two small buns on the back of her head. Wanting to get closer to this woman, Geralt reached his hand over her side and pulled her to him. A rush of happiness and great emotion occurred when she had held his hand which was draped over her. 'This is how things should be,' he thought to himself with a smile he did not know he had. All he knew was that he was happy.