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Regis wasn’t really sure what to think when he first saw her. Worst thing was that if it wasn’t for Geralt, he wouldn’t have noticed her at all.
In the old warehouse, from which Dettlaff flew only seconds before, vampire embraced his old Witcher friend, not even seeing a girl, who creeped in the shadows. Only when her groan brought Geralt’s attention, Regis indeed noticed that they not only weren’t there alone, but yet, at the same time, girl was sitting on the ground clenching her side, apparently wounded and bleeding. Why he didn’t smelled her blood in the first place, was for him a mystery, but not more than the fact that when he breathed in the air into his lungs, his throat almost burned him at the smell of her blood. It was, to say the least, specific. Almost unnoticeable, subtle scent that Regis feared that if he will let the air out of his lungs, it would disappear irrevocably.
Then their eyes meet. Her (e/c) ones with his almost dark, and then vampire felt shiver running down his spine. It wasn’t panic, but he centrally didn’t felt comfortable with it. She had something in her eyes that put him at the edge, something animalistic hide behind her iris, but what exactly, he wasn’t sure.
Geralt introduced her as a (y/n). Regis furrowed his brow. It was uncommon name, even for thirteen century. She haven’t spoken a word, just looking at him with those eyes of her, the hand, that wasn’t occupied with clenching her wound, caught Geralt’s sleeve when he helped her up. Her face was stoic, as if seeing a man who healed himself in matter of seconds wasn’t anything new for her, and yet he could see the interest creeping into her eyes at the sight of him, and that also made him feel a little uncomfortable.
The silence that was at the warehouse was cut by the Witcher, who spoke to girl, saying her that Regis was a vampire. At that he wasn’t sure if he should be thankful, for his friend end the awkwardness of this situation, or if he should be mad at him for saying the truth about his identity to someone he wasn’t sure if he trust. Yet Witcher paid it no mind, and asked him about Dettlaff and how he survived being melted and built into a palace wall. She also didn’t reacted to it, sitting on the barrel Geralt sat her on, searching through her pouch with straight face.
Regis really didn’t knew what to think about her.
At the cemetery, vampire was sure that Witcher will appear alone, oh how wrong he was when through tunnel to his quarter walked not only him, but also her, in her armor made of thick, brown leather, with hood hiding half of her face, along with her (h/c) hair and (f/c) paint, which only partially covered the scar on her right cheek. She was covered in kikimora’s blood, her two swords still in her hands, gleaming from said substance. Yet she hid them when her eyes landed on him, her movements almost too quick for average human being. Who is she? Was the question that once more popped in Regis’s head. Quick look at her side proved to him, that her wound was long gone, even though it was too deep to heal that quick.
Geralt pulled him out of his thoughts, interested in how to find the Beast of Toussaint. Dettlaff. Only then Regis pushed his thoughts about the uncommon girl away, explaining the monsters killer of his idea of finding the other vampire.
When they waited for raven’s return, sitting on the graves and drinking, Regis found himself looking at the girl every once in a while, Geralt saw it too and raised his eyebrow at him in unspoken question, at which vampire rolled his eyes, yet he couldn’t kill his curiosity about the girl, who still haven’t spoken a word neither for him, nor the Witcher.
“And you (y/n)? What are you thinking of? Would you change your life if given an opportunity?” Girl blinked and looked at them form the ground, as if pulled form dream.
“(y/n)? Nah, this one had a very good life. Nothing to complain about.” Her voice, and the way of speaking was something that Regis found himself enjoying, even though her sentence was short. The grin that raised on her face suited her well, despite the scar which also moved spreading slightly at the movement of the muscles of her face.
“Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?” Regis straightened a little when her eyes landed on his frame, the shiver once again on his spine. Her smile grew, showing her teeth.
“This one was raised well, had a warm stew to eat and cozy furs to sleep in. No matter how hard life can get, (y/n) is happy that she is still alive and have a family to come back to, despite being away from them now, or in the future.” She did spoke funnily, and yet Regis found himself fascinated by it.
“You didn’t said that you got married.” They both looked at Geralt, yet (y/n) had a frown on her face.
“(y/n) did not. Her family is her father and his caravan. That’s the only family she needs.” They didn’t asked further, yet Regis was interested about this “caravan” she spoked about, and made a mental note to ask her about it in the future, if the time will allow.
When Geralt went to get wight saliva, Regis found himself in very uncomfortable situation, with making a Resonance potion and an angry girl trying to find herself a place in his quarter, once in a while cursing under her breath at Witcher who haven’t allowed her to go with him. Once in a while she would get close to him, only to look into his cauldron with raised eyebrow and then get back to her previous occupation.
Vampire wasn’t sure if it was annoying for him or uncomfortable, but he tried to pay her no mind, until he finished the potion that now waited for two more ingredients. He looked unsurely at girl, who finally found herself a place at his makeshift bed and now was sharpening her swords, stoic expression back at her face. Sighing Regis called a raven to himself and when the animal landed on the table he quickly killed it, taking some of its blood to a single flask, the slight frown and uncomfortableness clearly seen on his face. He really didn’t liked the idea of what’s is to come, but yet, there were no other way to find Dettlaff.
When he took the blood and looked up, he almost dropped the flask at the sight of how close the girl stood to him. Only her reflex saved the flask from shattering on the floor, for she caught it not even second after he let go of it. She straightened and gave it back to him, apologetic smile on her face. Her eyes looking into his with uncertainty, as if she was afraid that he would scold her.
How come I haven’t heard her when she walked to me? Regis was looking into her eyes, searching for answer at his unspoken question. He took flask from her, their fingers touching and she jumped slightly at the contact, but yet she didn’t took her hand away, nor looked in other direction. Where does she come from, again? Vampire opened his mouth to ask, but that exact moment choose Geralt to come back. Regis quickly took flask and turned away from her, unsureness only growing in him.
Why on earth would he be so astonished by this girl? What was in her that made him act and feel like a child? And why is he so aware of her scent all of a sudden? He didn’t even drank his potion yet.
Regis quickly collected himself when Witcher got to them and gave him the wight’s saliva, asking for a final ingredient.
Regis wasn’t sure if (y/n) should go to Tesham Mutna, yet this time Witcher allowed her to come along with them, which apparently pleased her. Regis found himself at the edge from just walking beside her, her scent once subtle, now almost overwhelming his senses. He struggled to walk, and talking was a real torture, yet he succeeded to get them to the old castle and dungeons below them without any incidents. He almost sighed with relief when Geralt cuffed him in the cage, right before the monsters were able to attack him and (y/n).
Beside the overwhelming pain and urge for blood, Regis doesn’t remember what really happened in the dungeons, until he got back to his senses, almost fainting where he stood. When Geralt uncuffed him and the doors of the cage opened, vampire felt warmness spreading through his body. He opened his eyes, only to see (y/n)’s face, looking down at him, exhaustion lean on her face, the paint which covered her face now in ruin from blood and sweat. She had his head on her knees before Witcher helped him up and helped him back to the lodging on the cemetery.
When Geralt laid in lethargy made by the Resonance, (y/n) was doing her best to help Regis get his strength back, giving him some weird potions made of the ingredients she got from her pouch. He could swear that at least one of the potions had butterfly in it. The potions definitely tasted worse than he could have imagined, but at least they worked.
Once in a while (y/n) would leave Regis, to look over Witcher who tossed and kicked while in his lethargy, but when she made sure that Geralt was still alive, she would get back to vampire, asking in her weird way of speaking if he need anything, at which he only shook his head. Yet she anyway brought him some water and bread, gentle smile once in a while appearing in her face, making it gleam, despite the mess of blood and paint on it.
She was not only different than any woman Regis meet, but also more talented than average. That he was certain of, when he say how quickly and unnoticed by anyone (y/n) picked the lock of Dettlaff’s place, not even struggling with it. When she stood up with proud smile on her face, Regis was able to see her hiding something in her pouch. It looked as if it was some kind of key, made of copper.
“Where have you learned that?”
“In rift.” Was her simple answer, quite nor reasonable one for vampire, but he kept comment for himself, walking into the building and looking around, slightly grimacing at the sight of the puppets leaning from the ceiling.
At the attic, (y/n) was looking at the screech on the wall with furrowed brow, not looking from it even when Geralt found the notes with previous victim’s names on it. What does she found in it to look at it without blinking, Regis was not sure, yet he also saw some similarity in the woman’s face, but he couldn’t remembered who she remained him about. Was it Rhenna? He didn’t knew, he never meet her.
Regis wasn’t really sure how the meeting at Orianna’s would evolve, yet he took Dettlaff there, convincing him all the time to try and speak with Geralt. When they found themselves at the place however, he was the one who forgot how to speak, and that was definitely fault of (y/n), with her (h/l) (h/c) hair done, the paint completely washed from her face, showing her scar and how it went from under her ear through the cheek to her collarbone, which preciously was hided under her armor. Dressed in (f/c) dress with small, neckless in shape of a dragon, despite the slight frown on her face, (y/n) looked breathtaking. Even the Duchess was a gray background compared to (y/n) in that certain moment. When she looked at the “quests” that Orianna announced, her (s/c) cheeks darkened at the sight of vampire. She looked at her hands, trying to be as small as possible. As if on autopilot, Regis got to the table, sitting in front of her, with Dettlaff on his right side. If it weren’t for Geralt cleaning his throat, Regis was sure, he would kept looking at the (h/c) haired girl for a long time.
After his little talk with Geralt, both Witcher and vampire took a bottle of wine and got back to the table, only to see Dettlaff sitting now next to (y/n) who apparently ripped the corset of the dress and laid it on a table, much to despite of Duchess… at which she didn’t care, satisfied smile on her face. She talked with Dettlaff with her eyes gleaming, gesturing widely with her every word.
“… And then he said ‘I used to be an adventurer like you but then I took an arrow in the knee’.” Dettlaff looked at Regis with slight amusement, showing him that he really did liked this girl. Regis wasn’t sure if he was happy with that, or not. His instinct taking better of him, when he complimented her and the two other woman, taking (y/n)’s hand in his and slightly kissing her knuckles, making her checks to once again took a darker shade. He really did liked the sight of it.
Geralt excused himself, getting ready to go and took a part with attack at the Dun Tynne Castle, and saving Duchess’s sister and Rhenna. (y/n) quickly stood up too, ready to go with him, only for Geralt to tell her to stay back from this, talking that it’s too dangerous. She didn’t liked it, not at all, and Regis knew that in moment, she sat back down, hands clenched hard enough that her nails broke the skin, drawing blood from them. He touched her wrist and when she looked at him, he blinked slowly, nodding his head, showing her, that he will take her there, despite what Witcher told.
He didn’t knew why he did that, but when he saw her smile, slowly appearing on her face, he felt warmness spreading through him. He really felt like youngling near her, and apparently Dettlaff saw that too, because of his raised eyebrow and questioning look send in Regis’s direction.
Seeing her fight for the first time was almost as breathtaking as seeing her in a dress. Her movements more swift’s than dace, the way she used both her swords at her advance, she looked as if she wasn’t even trying, her muscles working on their own, as if she did it many other times. Regis made sure to be near her in order to help if needed, but apparently she was good on her own, cutting her opponents and killing them as if it was her second nature. It was disturbing for a vampire, how could such a young, unmutated person earned such fighting skills in her short life, all the time keeping her quiet way of moving. She was as deadly and quiet as an assassin, and while watching her, Regis asked himself a question. Could it be that he felled for her?
Three days later when Dettlaff kept his threat and vampires attacked Beauclair, Regis did all he could to convince Geralt to not to kill Dettlaff, yet it haven’t worked, for Witcher being too concerned about people dying in the city than one vampire. Even through Regis didn’t approved choice of his friend, he didn’t stopped him, knowing that he was right. When Geralt went to Orianna for help with his searching for Unseen Elder, Regis took (y/n) with him, to help people and to have an eye on her. It turned out as a good way, because at least she wouldn’t have to take a part at the hunt of garkain, nor be a part of Orianna’s feast at the boy of orphanage.
“(y/n) please, do me a favor and this time, don’t follow us. I’m a vampire and Geralt is a witcher, we have a chance to survive this. The Unseen is dangerous and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.” She sighed at Regis’s words, but nodded non the least, apparently knowing that he was right. Yet before he was able to enter the Unseen’s hideout, she caught his arm and looked him in the eyes.
“Promise to (y/n) that you will be back.” Regis swallowed hard, shiver running down his spine, except this one wasn’t unpleasant. It took everything he had in himself to nod shortly and walk into the cave.
“I see that you liked her.” Regis looked at Geralt slightly, with raised eyebrow.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Come on Regis. I see it. You do like her and you know what I’m talking about.” Vampire sighed. He really haven’t expected to have such conversation in such place. “Hey, don’t want, don’t tell, but I also see, that she feel just the same for you.” Regis didn’t said anything, yet deep inside, he was as happy as a child while hearing this. Maybe there was a chance for them after all of this?
It was shock for all od them when Syanna killed Anarietta. Regis found himself surprised at (y/n)’s shocked and almost heartbroken reaction, specially when she said that she wanted to be the one who would be able to kill the older sister, for what happened to Dettlaff. Surprisingly, (y/n) got to like Regis’s friend, which he wasn’t sure how to feel about. What was worse for him, was being called a traitor among the vampires. Yet (y/n) and Geralt kept him from his dark thought’s, at least on that one specific night, while they were drinking his extract of mandrake, she sitting on the ground next to him, slightly touching his knee with her shoulder.
“Where will you go now?”
“I thought about south.”
“Nilfgaard?”
“Why not. They don’t believe in vampires. It could be useful.” (y/n) looked at him with frown.
“Or you could go with (y/n). Tamriel is away from here. No vampires to try and kill you.” He looked at her with shock in his eyes, not expecting her to say something so bluntly. Geralt might be right and she really does have feelings for him.
“If you won’t mind me coming along with you.” She shrugged and passed him bottle of his extract.
“If you make more of this, and won’t mind (y/n)’s life, then she would be really pleased.” He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he found himself more than eager to find out, even if he wasn’t showing that.