This is my first Witcher imagine, so I hope that its ok. 😁 I have a Jaskier one coming too, so hopefully if people like then I will include a few more.

All eyes turned to look at Geralt and Jaskier as they walked into the tavern; Geralt had taken on a job, and a tavern always seemed like the best place to start.

"You know, just one time I would like to walk into one of these places, and everyone would just ignore us." Jaskier whispered, as Geralt stood, scanning the mass of villagers; his yellow eyes finally falling on a figure that sat at the very back of the tavern, dressed head to toe in black, a large hood conveniently covering any facial features.

"What do ya want Witcher? Ain't no one fa ya ta fight round ere, and even if there were, ain't no one got tha gold ta pay ya." A large man called out, as he stood up from his table.

A murmur went through the patrons, Geralt's eyes never leaving the figure as a pale delicate hand, reached out from under the black cloak that clothed it and took hold of a glass of wine that sat in front of them.

"That's not what we've been told. I've been hired to kill a witch." Geralt declared, watching as the patrons looked at one another nervously, some of them inadvertently looking over at the figure dressed in black.

"Witch? Who told ya that me dear?" An elderly woman asked from behind the bar.

"We ain't had a witch round these parts since forever, ain't that right Matthew?" The woman stated, looking over at the old man that was collecting empty tankards from the tables.

"Ay love, ain't been no witches round these parts since....... well since I were a lad." The old man said with a smile, as he carried his full tray back to the bar.

"Who told ya there were a witch anyway?" Another man called out, as he looked around the other men he was drinking with.

"I have been hired by the lord, he's the one that tells me that you are plagued by a witch." Geralt told the man, finally making his way to the bar, closely followed by Jaskier.

"Ya don't want to listen ta that crazy old coot." The woman behind the bar chuckled, handing Geralt and Jaskier two drinks.

"That old man lost his mind a long time ago." She told Geralt, as she took a cloth and began to clean the stack of dirty glasses.

"Well that crazy coot has offered me a large amount of gold to kill a witch by the name of (Y/n), sounds a little strange that he should be able to give me a name and everything; don't you think? And he was quite adamant that I would find her in the village." Geralt told the woman, his eyes darting back to the figure, as another murmur went around the tavern.

"(Y/n)? Ah! Well that explains it." Yet another man called out, as a collective laugh rippled through the establishment.

"Old man lost his mind and his senses when the poor lass turned down his advances." The barmaid explained, as Geralt downed his drink, his eyes focusing on the figure that a number of the patrons now seemed to be surrounding protectively.

"Look Witcher, (Y/n) was no witch, she was the furthest thing from it; she was a healer, and she watched over the people and the village; and that old man in the big house took a likin to er." The landlord began to explain, handing Geralt another drink.

"Dirty old man was old enough to be er grandfather." The old woman added, only to be hushed by her husband.

"The lord made her a proposition, and when she rightly turned him down, he took against er, started claimin that she was a witch, that she was causin all manner of problems; he even claimed that she put a curse on him." The man explained, as he looked out at his patrons.

"Well can I at least meet this (Y/n) so that I can make sure that your story is true?" Geralt asked, noticing as the face of the landlord seemed to change to a strange sad expression.

"Can't do that I'm afraid. The lord took it on himself ta send a pack of his dogs out ta follow (Y/n) as she rode one day; they chased er down, er horse bolted, and she fell, poor lass broke er neck." The barmaid explained, pretending to wipe away a tear.

"So, ya see Witcher, ain't no business round ere fa ya." The landlord told Geralt, his eyes watching as the dark figure quietly left the tavern.

Before Jaskier could finish his drink, Geralt grabbed the bard by the collar and dragged him from the tavern, following the figure out into the cool night.

"Hey! Stop!" Geralt called out, as he tried to catch up with the quickly moving figure.

"Stop (Y/n)!" Geralt called out again, watching as the figure stopped and turned around to face him and Jaskier, Geralt drawing his silver sword from its sheath, the figure pulling out a long staff from under their cloak.

"I would put that sword of yours away if I were you Witcher; because if you don't, I promise you that you'll regret it." A beautiful voice called out, the sound seeming to drift perfectly through the ether.

"What are you?" Geralt demanded to know, as he stepped closer, raising his sword ready to strike.

Suddenly Geralt stopped dead in his tracks, as the figure finally revealed what hid beneath the hood. As the material was removed, locks of hair, as white as Geralt's fell down her back, a pair of brilliant blue eyes glowing in the dark evening light. To say the woman was beautiful, would have been doing her a terrible disservice, and in all his travels, Geralt knew that he had never seen anything so breathtakingly perfect.

"I am like nothing you have ever seen before."

As she spoke, she brought down her staff, and as it hit the ground, the earth underneath the two men, cracked and began to shake. She raised her hand, and the small torches that were dotted around the village began to throw off blazing balls of fire towards Geralt and Jaskier. With a soft word, the winds gusted strong enough to nearly knock the large Witcher from his feet, and torrential rain began to fall from the sky.

"She can't be." Geralt said to himself, as he and Jaskier tried to fight against the elements that the young woman had bought down on them; the rain only easing a little as she disappeared into the woods that surrounded the village.

"WHAT DID YA DO WITCHER?" The landlord called out, as he and the other men rushed out of the tavern, covering themselves against the wind and rain.

"GET OUT OF ERE, BUTCHER!" A man shouted, as the locals began to throw rocks and stones, chasing the Butcher and the bard out of the village.

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

"Well, are you going to tell me what all that was about?" Jaskier asked, as he and Geralt finally settled down around the campfire.

"I can't believe it myself, but there is only one explanation for what she is, and that is an elemental; but I've never seen or heard of one like her before." Geralt explained, grabbing a burning brand and stoking the fire.

"Elemental? What's an elemental?" Jaskier asked, as he strummed softly on his lute, trying to think of the right words to describe the woman that they had just met.

"Elementals are mythical beings that control the four Empedoclean elements of earth, air, fire, and water. Usually each element is ruled over by its own creature: Gnomes control the earth; Undines, water: Slyphs the air; and salamanders, fire; but this (Y/n) seemed to be able to control all four with only a mere movement of her hand. Whatever her story, she is an exceptionally powerful being." Geralt told Jaskier, as he lay back on his bed roll.

"Is she dangerous, I mean, should we kill her like the lord wanted?" Jaskier asked nervously, confused when Geralt chuckled.

"I am sure that she could prove extremely dangerous if provoked in the right way; but given what the villagers told us about her, and how they protected her, I believe what they say; that the old man is besotted with her, and that I was hired so he could have revenge on the beautiful creature that dare turn him down. But to answer your question; no, I'm not going to kill such a woman, and I'm quite sure that it is not the last time that we have seen our elemental." Geralt said, sighing softly as he turned away from Jaskier.

"At least I hope its not the last time we've seen her." Geralt whispered to himself, as he slowly closed his eyes, the image of her face lingering in his mind.