#Calanthe Fiona Riannon x Reader

[the-doctor-3000]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 {The Witcher x F!Reader}

1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (pt. 1)

The chirping of birds woke the nineteen-year-old y/n up. She cracked her eyes open, having a difficulty to do so due to the light of the sun, and found herself laying in a forest. She sat up slowly, clenching the pendant that was hanging around her neck tightly and looked around in sheer confusion.

How did she even end up here? She was on a mission with her siblings. Knowing that it didn't include the woods. She quickly searched around for her stuff. She had her seraph blade, her stele was on her jacket's pocket along with a sensor and her witchlight stone. She stood up on her feet with a small stumble and continued to look at her surroundings confused. 

The air was clearer, deprived of pollution. It was nice but scary too.

Where was she? Had she been teleported there and how?

Not expecting to get any answers from just standing there and staring, she walked her way out of the forest. Or at least tried to. No sign of a city but a small village. Too medieval-like for her own liking.

Hopefully the mundanes were just filming a movie with that theme. As she approached, her nostrils picked up some unpleasant smells which caused her to gag in disgust. 

It smelled worse than a farm or litter boxes. She had been to villages before but none of them smelled like that.

She went pass a few locals, all of them dressed in medieval styled peasant clothing, and some gave her some odd looks while others minded their own business. Y/n's brows furrowed. She looked around, expecting to see some cameramen filming the entire thing or the staff.

She saw none.

What she did see was a cart, drawn by two piebald mares. She tilted her head to the side as she cautiously followed and examined the people on it. 

Three. The driver. Nothing too unusual for the theme of the movie - if it was a movie; he was wearing sheepskin over his bare skin and his hair reached his brows. Next to him sat another man; that one was slim, he was wearing a fancy bonnet with a heron's feather decorating it. She noticed that he was holding a lute. A troubadour, she mentally noted. 

Her eyes trailed to the man next to him. He was skinny, unhealthy pale and had milky loose hair. What she could make of his appearance from the far back was that he was a warrior of sorts.

She didn't know what but there was something about that man that piqued her interest. If her brothers were there they would be able to restrain her from going off to satisfy her curiosity. Her sister, though, would go along with her.

The white haired male spoke to the driver and he brought the horses to a halt. Y/n didn't know why but she felt like the white haired man could tell that she was following them.

Her suspicion was confirmed as he jumped out of the cart, daggers on each side and a steel sword on the back, and approached her. 

She came to a halt as she gasped instinctively. His face. She had seen worse but there was something unsettling about him. His eyes were frightening and cat-like and there was something about him. . . Cold and threatening. 

Her fingers tried to reach for her blades but he spoke. "Why are you following us?"

His voice was just as unsettling as the rest of his appearance. It was very unpleasant and hoarse. Y/n never had encountered anyone like him. She had seen things and yet this man made her feel afraid.

Why? She had killed demons, a man with a disturbing appearance should be nothing compared to her previous encounters. 

He asked her again. More demanding but still calm. "Well?"

She flinched but finally found her voice. "I am sorry." She apologised and thought that the truth would be the best answer. "I am new around. . . . here and you three looked like an interesting bunch. Would it, ah, be alright to tag along until I find a way back?"

He seemed to think about it. His inhuman eyes stared into hers as if he were examining her. "Where are you from?"

"Manhattan, New York."

He arched a white brow. "Come again? Is this a new kind of joke?"

"Why would---? Listen, if you don't know where it is then just say so." She said, irritation building its way to her chest. "Don't have to act as if it doesn't exist."

"That's because it doesn't. Never heard of such place."

The seriousness in his tone made it difficult for y/n to tell whether he was messing with her or not. She crossed her arms over her torso, trying to keep a straight face and mask her worry. "Then where exactly am I?"

"Near Lower Posada, Dol Blathanna."

She barked a laugh. "Okay okay! That's creative but, for real, where am I?"

"Do I look like someone who is joking?"

Her hair went up like wires and a chill went down her spine. She croaked nervously, "Probably not."

There was a long silence between. The man's travelling companions were observing this interraction from afar, seeming quite interested to see how this would evolve. The bard was the most intrigued by it out of the two. Y/n avoided making eye contact with the man standing in front of her, her gaze was fixated on the medallion around his neck. It was made out of silver and had the shape of a wolf's head. 

The longer she thought about it the more scared she became that maybe she was indeed in another universe and/or time period. Everything looked far too real, they smelled like it too, to be just a film production and the actors decided to mess with her. 

Then it hit her. How could he, a mundane, see her? The glamour should have made it impossible unless, of course, he wasn't human himself but he didn't look like any of the Downworlders she had known of. The only distinct feature about him which only fit the warlocks' was his eyes, which were cat-like, but she could tell that he wasn't one. Mostly due to the fact that he was carrying weapons and, as far as she knew, warlocks needn't any of those. Not when they had their magic.

She gathered up some courage and spoke, "Do you---" She cut herself, thinking carefully of her next words and tried to make eye contact without flinching. Her mother and father always told her to stare someone in the eyes when speaking or else it would make her seem like a fool. "Is it alright to stay with you until I figure a way to return to my home? I promise that I won't get in the way of whatever it is that you are doing."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And what is that you think I'm doing?"

Y/n shrugged. "Don't know and don't care. It's not my business either way as long as you don't cause any trouble that is."

"Hm."

He just hummed. No comment or any reply, just a hum. Y/n didn't know what to make of that guy but she followed him when he nodded for her to do so. They went to the cart and there was yet again an uneasy silence.

"I'm y/n Lightwood, by the way." She introduced herself to him, with a smile, hoping to at least learn his name. When he didn't respond, she quickly added. "Sorry if I crossed over any boundaries. It's just that people usually tell their names when they make an acquaintance." No response still. "So, ah, what's your name?"

"Geralt of Rivia."

"Geralt of Rivia." She tested his name, mispronouncing it completely, sounding like 'Jerald'. She noticed from the corner of her eye, his scarred eye twitching a little. 

At least she got a reaction.

Not wanting to make things worse, she decided not to speak any further. When they reached the cart, the troubadour was the first one to acknowledge her. 

"Ah! And who is your feminine friend, Geralt?" The bard asked, his cornflower blue eyes though were fixated on her.

He seemed pleasant, he looked like it too. His attitude so far was also friendly. She gave him a small smile, "I'm y/n. Y/n Lightwood."

As Geralt climbed on the cart, the bard hopped out. He took her hand and gingerly planted a kiss on the back of. "Charmed. I am Master Dandilion! A poet, a minstrel and a bard."

She chuckled, her cheeks flushing red a little. "Yeah, I got that. The lute gave it away."

"Would you be interested in hearing one of my ballads, my fair lady?"

An exasperated groan came from Geralt. Y/n was yet again curious but also bored.

"Music is the perfect way to pass the time while driving, so yeah!" She said with a warm smile gracing her features.

Dandilion beamed with joy.

She climbed the cart, Dandilion followed, and she was inbetween him and Geralt. The driver did not question her and continued. Y/n continued paying attention to Dandilion, too scared or uncomfortable to look at Geralt.

Disclaimer: I don't own the The Witcher nor the pictures/gifs, all credit goes to the original creators. This is a crossover between the Witcher and the Shadowhunter Chronicles. This will be based on the books and *not* the Netflix series and the story will be according to the books (though I'll add some scenes of my own and/or change some things in order for the mc to fit in the story).

This fanfiction will be also published on quotev.

[intimatelysapphic]

;-;

I just finished a Calanthe fic and the character count is too much.

Tumblr is testing my patience rn, well I'll post it tomorrow once I figure out how I want to split it into a different chapter.

[the-ghost-of-mine]

Y/N knew this would never end well. You knew deep down that you couldn’t live like this, burying your feelings for Calanthe. You had grown close over the years, Y/N becoming her sparring partner and her friend. But you needed more than that, your soul yearned for her desperately but you couldn’t pursue her. You were not worthy of the Queen’s affections, you were no Prince or Princess, you were just a knight. Her knight. You had accepted that this was the only way to have her in your life and you thought you made peace with that. But the ache in your heart tells you otherwise, thoughts of her consuming you.

You knew Calanthe could hold her own in battle - she was the fiercest fighter you had ever come across - but this didn’t stop you from wanting to protect her. You always kept a close eye on her, never leaving her side. More often than not you had buried your sword into the throat of an opponent who had surprised her. This time however, you had taken a slice from the opponents sword to your arm between your armour. This had caught you off guard and you quickly returned the favour by ending him. Calanthe locked eyes with yours briefly, you saw her concern or was it more than that? Y/N nodded telling her you were fine, dismissing the idea that her concern could be interpreted as something else. You had endured worse injuries, but little did she know that you would sacrifice yourself for her, not out of duty but love.

Often you wished you had perished in battle, it was easier than living in this constant suffering. You wondered if she really knew, knew that you’d do anything to be by her side, to have her love. You welcomed the sting from your wound, the physical pain was more bearable than the anguish you insisted on inflicting on yourself daily. But you had learnt how to smile whilst you were breaking inside, you had seen her with people she had taken a liking to. The jealousy rose up like a fire, it burned and yet you would continue to look on. Being in love with Calanthe was your punishment for some wrong doing you were unaware of. It would be far less painful to die in the heat of battle than to have her destroy you by rejecting your feelings. You would endure this torment until death would free you and wake you from this bad dream.

[the-bad-batch]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach, Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Reader Characters: Eist Tuirseach, mentioned - Character, Calanthe Fiona Riannon, Reader, Original Witcher Character(s) Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, War, Polyamory Summary:

You felt anxious. You stood by her door, hands behind her your back, head held high awaiting your Queen’s return. You were a simple servant. Born and raised in Cintra by a farmer and his wife. They’d wanted you to work at the farm, wanted you to a marry a man and raise a family. You wanted nothing of the sort. You wanted more out of life. You found yourself applying for a job at the Queen’s palace. They were looking a servant who would dedicate themselves completely to the Queen.

 In other words, you would belong to her.

[the-bad-batch]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach, Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Reader Characters: Eist Tuirseach, mentioned - Character, Calanthe Fiona Riannon, Reader, Original Witcher Character(s) Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, War, Polyamory Summary:

You felt anxious. You stood by her door, hands behind her your back, head held high awaiting your Queen’s return. You were a simple servant. Born and raised in Cintra by a farmer and his wife. They’d wanted you to work at the farm, wanted you to a marry a man and raise a family. You wanted nothing of the sort. You wanted more out of life. You found yourself applying for a job at the Queen’s palace. They were looking a servant who would dedicate themselves completely to the Queen.

 In other words, you would belong to her.

Chapter 2 is now up!