Chapter One

~ Eliana ~

Pale sunlight sliced through the darkness, the mould dusted blanket cover ripped so swiftly away, I flinched from its whip-like crack. My spine collided with the ice-chilled iron caging me.

After the dank and dark, the world was bright, too bright. My eyes stung. I blinked once, twice, the cacophony of rowdy noise materialising into a milling crowd of men and woman. Mostly men.

Mud, sour sweat and rotting mead filled my nostrils, rankling them. I couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe—

"Time to come out and display that pretty little face." My bald captor displayed his rotting teeth in a broken grin. My stomach roiled.

I'd spent two full moon cycles caged by this man, unable to escape. I had tried, desperately tried, but to him I was a priceless find.

Fair, young, unblemished. Untouched.

Chains rattled, a lock twisted, grinding loud in my ears. It was not a release to freedom, but a to eternal enslavement. Death. I wish I'd died with the others now.

"Come on, out with yeh." The rough fibres of the heavy rope collar bit into my neck, the feeling now too familiar, but I couldn't move. My mind dizzied, and it was only by the man's ruthless hauling, I scrambled, on hands and knees from the iron crate.

Air vanished momentarily as he hauled me to my feet, the rope collar tight against my windpipe. I couldn't get me knees to steady. I hadn't stood properly in weeks, and they wobbled precariously like a newborn foal. My wasted muscles strained to hold my starved frame, but I needn't have bothered. The man kept a tight grip on my collar, all too aware how I'd tried to escape him before.

"Alright, here we have a half-elf likely, come of age, untouched. What a fine figure she'd cut in the sheets!" A shudder raked through me as the crowd crowed and jeered. "Who'll start the bidding toda—"

"Fifteen gold!"

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-five!"

My ears buzzed, the action blurring to the pounding of my own heart. Soon, soon it would be over. Soon someone would claim ownership of me, like an animal, like an object.

"Six-hundred." A voice, hard and cold, caused the crowd to still.

"Six-hundred?" Anyone 'ere to best this 'ere gentleman?" A sob tore from my throat as the auction man called sold.

~ Geralt ~

"Move!" I roared, causing townsfolk to scatter in Roach's wake. We careened at a gallop around a street corner, and the city square came into view. Folk bunched close to the wooden platform, where two men, one bald and the other possessing slick, raven hair, and a cruel glint to his eye, fought with a mere slip of a girl. Her tangled, dirty hair still glint gold under the cold sunlight, the torn, stained shift she wore barely detracting from her beauty. Elf blood.

The substantial coin at my side weighed heavy. She'd already been auctioned. I was too late. Fuck.

Veering to the right of the crowd, I leapt from the saddle, pushing through the auction goers who laughed at the terrified girl's futile fight for escape.

A whip flashed between her shoulders, and she cried out, the sound morphing to a snarl, she writhed, spitting up at her buyer's face. The whip cracked again, and again, and my own heart pounded harder with each slash, knowing exactly how they cut, how they burned as if a fire licked her flesh. The eager crowd milled closer, hindering me with their jostling bodies. If I didn't get her soon…

I was close enough now to scent the coppery tang of her blood, see the way her body trembled like a leaf, surely only held up by her still bottom lip, held between her teeth.

Time was dwindling, I'd left a hot trail in my haste to reach the auctions. I needed to act now, damn the hundred-odd Kaedwen witnesses.

Shoving the last of the men between me and the platform aside, I swung up onto the boards, drawing a blade, slicing clean through the whip as it ascended again towards the girl.

The crowd stilled, the raven-haired buyer swung around, dragging the girl by the rope about her neck. I didn't hesitate, driving my sword through his chest.

"The girl is now mine." I wrenched my sword from the body, letting it drop. The girl scrambled back from him, back from me, sea-blue eyes wide with horror. It was definitely her.

Beyond the square, the ground trembled. Hoofbeats. Fuck.

~ Eliana ~

Fire licked at my back, fogging my mind from the searing pain, but I fought it, edging away from the snow-haired monster of a man with fury glowing behind coal black eyes. He whistled, drawing a second sword.

"Get on the horse." Voice low, gravely, commanding, he shouldered me towards a chestnut who appeared behind us. I stumbled down from the platform, towards the horse, hope of escape blossoming behind my quaking ribs.

If I could just get on, stay on. I was a good enough rider...

The snow haired man roared, and I whirled to the clash of steel, the shouts of other men. Arms wrapped about my middle, and a scream ripped from my lips, from fear and pain. The ground tilted, the sky darkening.

Cold earth met my hands, a horse whinnied, silver flashes of shod hooves dancing around me. Silver flashes of the snow haired man's blades, as he fought what seemed to me, a never-ending army dressed in black and gold.

I'd seen this army before, bathed in the fires of a burning city-town, leaving streams of scarlet in their wake. The army of my people. The army of Verden.

~ Geralt ~

The girl was barely conscious, a small tattered body guarded by Roach's teeth and hooves, should anyone get past my blades. The townspeople had scattered at the arrival of the soldiers. Three remained, a fourth having galloped off to no doubt alert the larger part of their party likely still travelling from the previous town. We needed to get far away from here.

With a bellow, two men rushed me. Blocking one, I slammed my other blade into the second one's neck. A third man's blade burned across my thigh. Spinning away from the pain, I arced a blade, driving it true. The third man grunted, falling to his knees. The last man, mouth bloody; ran.

Turning to Roach, I stilled the mare, kneeling at the girl's side. Blood stained the dirt she lay unconscious upon, the thin shift she wore clung crimson to her back. If only time would permit, I could treat her. A small mercy falling unconscious; she would feel no pain, and hopefully by the time she awoke, we'd be far away from her pursuers. Sheathing my weapons, I gathered her up, and climbed into the saddle. Pointing Roach towards snow capped mountains, I urged the mare into a gallop, the girl tucked securely against my chest.

So, this was a random fic idea two days in the making.

I really need to draw a line with this madness. I'll try keep this one short and sweet, but you know, don't hold your breath!

Toss a coin to your Witcher; thoughts and questions welcome.

xx A