Chapter Text
Winters at Kaer Morhen were nothing short but relaxing. Winter fell heavily upon the land, the land blanketed in white for miles. The hot air that escaped your lips became visible for a moment, the nipping wind blowing the air away and into the morning.
The sun was just starting to rise, orange rays reflecting off of the snow and creating glistening light before it disappeared behind thick and grey clouds, and you hummed to yourself as you clutched the letter within your hand tightly.
"Looks as though it's going to storm soon."
"Might be best if you stay here for the night then. Looks like it'll be while before you can head out."
Geralt's voice made you jump with fright, whipping your gaze over your shoulder to see him stepping out onto the icy balcony. Geralt shook his shoulders slightly to stave the cold away for a moment, and you made a face at him as his gold eyes lit up with amusement.
"Must you always sneak about like a damn cat? About spooked my soul right out of me."
Geralt chuckled gently, his raspy voice amused as he retorted.
"Don't think that'd be the weirdest thing I've seen as a witcher."
You nodded quietly, murmuring as you turned back to look out at the snowy mountains below.
"You're probably right. As a witcher, you see all kinds of things...seen the world through blood and gore...is it strange that I feel sad that you haven't truly enjoyed living?"
Geralt wasn't sure what had brought your melancholic state up, and truthfully, it made him slightly uncomfortable. Shifting from foot to foot slightly, Geralt took a deep breath and crossed his arms. Choosing not to reply, he instead darted away from the question, asking you.
"What's that you got there? A letter?"
You clutched the paper close to you for a moment before you turned to him, explaining as you held it out for him; Geralt's eyes widening in interest at the neat calligraphy of his name drawn upon the top.
"Around this time of year, my family had a sort of tradition...when winter would be at its peak and we weren't certain if the cold would take us or not, we began to exchange gifts to each other...almost like a memento mori. Winter is so unforgiving..."
Your voice trailed off, and Geralt asked you, his gloved fingers carefully breaking the wax seal that concealed the contents within.
"You're giving me a gift?"
"Well, sort of. I know you don't really care for material items since you're always on the Path, but I figured that perhaps this would be more plausible."
Geralt glanced down, and he could smell your scent wafting from the pages. There also seemed to be perfume lacing the pages, strong but not uncomfortable like the working girls around the cities wore.
When Geralt opened the letter, there was a dried flower that was glued to the paper with beeswax; giving the page a nice floral scent that mixed well with the perfume and your natural aura.
To Geralt of Rivia,
When the Path becomes unsteady, and you are unsure of your purpose: look to the skies as the swallow dives to greet your hand. Though the sun will not always shine, it is ever-present; waiting for your eyes to feast upon the light.
Though your purpose may become obscure during times of strife and hardship, it does not mean that it is meaningless. Though the way that you travel might not always be with good company; know that good company will always await you.
You are a valued friend; and we eagerly await your return when the Path calls to you again.
Geralt could see Ciri's familiar handwriting at the bottom of the page, a slight smile twitching the corner of his lips.
Wash your armor often, you smelly old man.
"I see Ciri didn't want to hold her thoughts back."
Geralt said, and you became embarrassed, wringing your hands together.
"Ah, yes, she asked me if she could add something, but wouldn't let me see what it was before it was already finished. Ciri was very adamant about making sure I didn't throw this draft away and gave it to you."
Geralt chuckled before he closed the letter and placed it within his armor, asking you as he came to stand beside you.
"Is that why your heart was beating so fast? Why you were so nervous? I thought you'd done something wrong...or I had."
"It's cheesy."
You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as Geralt listened.
"Had you been a person that valued material items, this would have been a lot easier...I'm not poetic like Dandelion, though he did have a bit to do with the wording."
"I could tell. You never struck me as the poetic type."
Geralt couldn't refrain from chuckling as you ducked your head and you groaned, looking up at the sky as it began to snow.
"Gods, I know! I just wanted to do something nice for you and give you something that you'd be able to take with you on the Path...Ciri told me that something to put on Roach's saddle or even a charm for your sheath would suffice, but then I had a dilemma of what I would even give to you then."
Geralt raised his brow, asking you as he turned and leaned against the railing of the balcony.
"Truly? I thought this was a tradition of your family's."
Your eyes became wide, and you glanced away from him, mumbling.
"It is, I just also wanted to do something nice. It's basically the same thing."
Geralt decided to stop torturing you, saying as he placed a hand in the air to make you pause and pay attention.
"It's alright, truly. I...really do appreciate this, and you're right: I don't really have much use for anything on the Path besides things that would help me with monster hunting, but that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate them. A letter is just as important to me as an actual gift."
You looked surprised, and you asked him almost earnestly.
"You mean that? You don't think it's...idiotic or anything?"
"Why would I think that?"
You shrugged, and Geralt sighed slightly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes slightly.
"You worry too much."
"You don't worry enough."
You stuck your tongue out at him, and Geralt smirked, leaning down to you and whispering in your ear.
"I'm not the one whose heart is racing and desire is soaking their scent like an animal in heat."
He patted your shoulder teasingly, leaving you to gawk in horror on the balcony as he walked back into the bedroom, calling over his shoulder.
"If you wanted something in return, all you had to do was say something."