Request for AshliDinkelman. Hope that you all enjoy.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jaskier asked as he and Geralt made their way into the city. The Witcher and his bard causing quite a stir as they wound their way through the bustling streets that were filled with market stalls. The vendors and their customers staring as the white haired man passed.

"Me? You're the one that hasn't been able to stop talking about this fabled princess. You're the one that has gone on and on about us sneaking into this damn masquerade ball. And now that we are actually here, you are changing your mind?" Geralt asked, as he turned to look at the man behind him.

"It's just that the king isn't your biggest fan, and if we are recognised at the celebration, it probably won't end well." Jaskier added, Geralt remembering back to the last time he had been in the city. The Witcher hired to go after a sorceress that lived in the countryside just beyond the boundaries of the city. The creature had threatened the life of his daughter, and the king was determined not to lose his child as he had his wife. But the clash between the Witcher and the old harridan had caused quite some damage, and Geralt had had to make a quick escape. The king's men in hot pursuit.

"The whole point of a masquerade ball is that people don't recognise you, Jaskier. And once you've seen this princess (Y/n) you might actually stop annoying me about her." Geralt replied, as they made their way through the tavern door, and up to the bar.

Everyone knew of princess (Y/n). There was not a soul that had not heard of the half elf's ethereal beauty. Not a man that did not want to call her his own. Yet the princess had always refused any suitor that had come her way, so the masquerade ball was her father's latest attempt at finding his beloved child a suitable husband. And hopefully ensure an heir to the throne.

"We will be fine. No one will even notice us. You can see your princes, and then we can get out of here." Geralt continued, as the buxom young lady handed the two men a drink, before winking and giggling at the big pale haired man. Jaskier not sure that Geralt was right.

                                                           >>-------------------------------<<

(Y/n) looked in the mirror. Brushing away the single tear that rolled down her cheek. The sound of the music, laughter and the murmur of hundreds of voices already filling the palace. She knew why her father had organised the celebration. She knew that he hoped to use the night to find her yet another eligible suitor. Some other man that would see nothing but the way she looked. That could not see passed the façade to the woman inside. To the woman that needed something more than a prancing, preening peacock of a prince or lord.

(Y/n)'s mother was an elf. One of the most beautiful creatures ever born. Her father, the king, had himself been seen as the most eligible of men. A warrior of elegant and well-defined stature. A man that had cut an impressive figure. Yet (Y/n) had outshone the pair. She was exquisite, ethereal, loved wherever she went, and by anyone that met her. But like her mother, (Y/n) had depths that only the man that she was truly meant to love, could see. Yet (Y/n) was still to find the man that could make her sad heart smile. And as the time passed, she doubted that she ever would.

"(Y/n)." The king called out as he entered her room. (Y/n) hastily wiping the tears from her eyes and grabbing for her hairbrush.

"You look beautiful, my dear. As always you will create quite a stir. Your mother would have been so proud of you." The king told her as he leant over and kissed the top of her head.

"The celebration is well underway, and all that it is missing is the guest of honour." The king continued, as he placed a mask over his daughters face before taking her hand and escorting her from the room.

                                                           >>----------------------------------<<

Geralt and Jaskier made their way into the palace. The throng of people not seeming to notice the two men as they pushed their way through. The chatter among the amassed crowd was only about one thing, whether some young man present, would catch the eye of the exquisite princess.

"There's supposed to be this fabled man. Someone that is meant just for her. A man that is as unique as she is." One woman said, as Geralt and Jaskier made their way over to the grand staircase where all waited for the king and princess to appear.

"I heard that he doesn't exist. That the princess will never marry. That there will never be an heir, and the line will fall." Another chimed in. Geralt rolling his eyes as he listened to the continued conjecture of over whether the princess would find her fabled prince.

Suddenly everyone fell silent, the music stopping as two figures began to descend the staircase. Geralt staring in disbelief as the two royals stood before the throng. He couldn't see the princess' full face because of the mask, but he didn't need to, there was an aura that surrounded her that Geralt felt like only he could see. It was darker than it should be. It had a heaviness that a woman like her should not be concealed by. And the Witcher felt a need to change that. To bring a light to her darkness.

Geralt would never admit it to Jaskier. He had let the bard think that returning to the city and going to the masquerade ball had been all his idea. But in truth, the Witcher was just as intrigued as the bard to see the princess. On his last visit to the great castle, Geralt had hoped to set eyes on the princess. Hoped that he would be able to see the fabled beauty for himself. Yet due to the chaos that had ensued, his wishes had been thwarted. So, when Jaskier had mentioned the ball, Geralt had agreed to return to the city, hoping that this time he and the princess could meet.

"She's beautiful." Jaskier whispered. The bards voice shaking Geralt from his thoughts.

"I wish I could see her face." The bard continued, as the king and his daughter made their way into the crowd. The eligible lords and princes all surrounding the princess, hoping for the first dance.

"Well, you'll have your wish at midnight. Its tradition that all guests remove their masks when the clock strikes twelve." Geralt replied, wondering how he could see the face of the princess without revealing his own identity.

                                                           >>---------------------------------<<

Geralt had watched all evening as one man after another vied for the attention of the princess. And each one she spoke or danced with, seemed to make the aura around her even darker.

Since she had first appeared on the staircase, it was as if a voice was speaking to him. A voice that was pushing him towards the exquisite creature. A voice that seemed to have gotten louder as the minutes and hours passed. And as the music of the latest dance ended, Geralt knew that he couldn't fight it any longer. And even if it meant that he would be discovered, he still had to take his chance.

                                                          >>--------------------------------<<

"My lady." A cool voice came from behind her said. (Y/n) turning to see a large man behind her. The princess' breath catching in her throat as she looked up into his eyes.

There was something different about this man. Something that set him apart from all the others. He had an aura around him that no one else present possessed. And as he took her hand and carefully kissed her knuckles, she knew that she had finally found the one that she was meant to be with.

"One so beautiful should not have such a sad smile and a heavy heart. Nor be under such a dark cloud. Would you do me the honour of the next dance." Geralt said. His heart pounding violently in his chest as for the first time the princess smiled.

"Yes." (Y/n) simply replied. As the man gripped her hand tightly and escorted her to the floor.

                                                          >>---------------------------------<<

They had danced for what seemed like hours. Both forgetting about the crowd around them as their hands and bodies touched. Geralt not failing to notice that with every touch. With every word he spoke. The princess glowed brighter, and he felt more and more lost.

The first chime of the clock alerted the Witcher to the hour. Any moment the clock would strike twelve and the guests would remove their masks. Geralt knowing that despite not wanting to leave the princess, when his visage was revealed, he and Jaskier would probably be running for their lives.

"I have to leave." Geralt said, the princess looking up at him, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of losing the man she had found.

"Why? No. Please." (Y/n) beseeched. Hoping that he would change his mind.

"If I reveal my face, I am afraid that your father will not like what he sees." Geralt explained. The clock chiming again.

"No. I don't want you to leave. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I have waited for you for so long, I can't lose you now." (Y/n) said, as she held onto his hands tightly. The princess looking over and making sure that her fathers' attention was elsewhere.

"Come with me." (Y/n) continued. As she pulled her prince behind her. The two making their way down the long corridors of the dark palace. The clocks chimes getting closer and closer to twelve.

"Here. We can be alone." (Y/n) told him, as she pulled Geralt into a room. The roaring fire in the hearth sending out its incandescent glow as the clock struck the last hour.

"It's midnight. It's tradition that you remove my mask, and I remove yours." (Y/n) said, as she reached up her hands, and slowly untied the strings that held Geralt's mask in place. The Witcher doing the same to the princess'. Both of them staring wide eyed at one another as the masks dropped to the floor.

"You are Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher. Son of the great sorceress Visenna. How did I not see? How did I not know? You are the one that I have been waiting for my whole life. The only one that can see the true me. And now that I have found you, I am not letting you go." (Y/n) whispered, as she placed her hand softly on his cheek, Geralt closing his eyes as he lost himself in her touch. The Witcher knowing that even if he had to fight the whole of her father's army, he would never be without his fabled princess again.