A short, slightly crackish fic centered around a Bellamione Witcher AU. Yes, you've read that correctly. Born out of conversations on the Bellamione discord.

Not marked as completed for now, as I'm not sure if I will continue this yet. If I do, it'll be later in the year, though. I hope you'll enjoy.

Toss a coin to your Bellatrix.

Bellatrix didn't usually operate this far North, usually preferring the warmer climates like many of her fellows from the School of the Cat. Her usual stomping grounds were the rolling fields of Toussaint with its warm climate and delicious wines. But every once and a while, Bellatrix tired of the poncy nobles and the seemingly endless supply of vampires both friendly and hostile. Spending a winter at Kaer Morhen sounded like exactly the change of scenery she needed.

Though the School of the Cat had a rather unfortunate reputation, she herself had never broken the Witcher code and thus old Vesemir had not barred her from the keep like he did many of her other fellows. Truth be told, the cat-shaped medallion around her neck was often a source of embarrassment, especially when she calmly had to explain to some flustered noble that she was purely a monster-hunter and not an assassin for hire.

Truth be told, she was looking forward to spending some time with the Wolves. Though her mutations weren't quite as... thorough... as that of the Wolves, she could more than keep up with them. Last time she had went, there was plenty enjoyment to be had, whether it was sparring with old man Vesemir, losing herself in the keep's library, getting dead drunk with Geralt and Lambert and spending many a night rolling in the furs with Eskel. Far more enjoyment that she'd ever had with her fellow Cats.

She chuckled to herself. Perhaps she was simply more of a dog-person than a cat-person.

Still, Bellatrix was a Cat and cats did like their warmth and comfort. While traveling North, she had picked up plenty of contracts along the way to pay for the best suites to rest in: Bellatrix preferred to meditate in private and had developed a bit of a taste for pipeweed.

The contracts were standard Witcher work: a couple of drowners here, a few bloedzuigers there. Mostly work which was beneath her skills, but paid well enough to suit her needs. Then, when passing through Ban Gleann in Kaedwen, she came across a job that was particularly interesting.

The tale was as old as humanity itself: a young girl, daughter of two barber-surgeons living in Ban Gleann, found herself the subject of a much older mage's affections. As any girl with half a brain would, she politely turned down his offer of marriage. Unfortunately, this ended up with her getting herself cursed for her troubles. The girl's intelligence gone, she had become a monster: a striga, which would rise from her lair every full moon to hunt. The girl's father had begged her to break the curse and, if that was not possible, end the girl's life mercifully.

The striga's lair was apparently an abandoned mining village and would only be a slight detour from her travels to Kaer Morhen. With her unnaturally sharp vision, she could actually see the village in the distance as her trusty piebald stallion galloped over the dirt road: some fifteen wooden buildings, a well in the middle and what looked to be the mineshaft leading further into the mountain, which was undoubtedly where the monster slept.

Still, Bellatrix could tell her horse was getting nervous. She'd known her horse long enough to know that he had a good sense for danger. "Whoa, Abacus, whoa," Bellatrix said, pulling on the reigns. She patted the horse on the neck before dismounting. She'd have to go in on foot from here or risk Abacus becoming a target for the beast. He'd wait for her here and undoubtedly would enjoy some quiet time grazing.

Bellatrix approached the village carefully, but immediately found signs of the beast's activity. In the middle of town, near the well, lay the half-eaten corpse of an unfortunate traveler. A quick examination made it clear to her that the striga has feasted on the soft internal organs of the victim, finding most of his ribcage and abdomen emptied. Likely this was a traveler looking to replenish his waterskins at the well and had been surprised by the striga. She also found some coins, a pendant and a few rings, which she removed and pocketed to pawn off later: it was not as if he'd need them anymore.

Bloodied tracks led from the corpse into the mine shaft, confirming her suspicions.

Bellatrix also examined all the buildings, finding all of them emptied of anything useful, but did find them to be mostly structurally sound. She also made note of the lay-out of the village and then carefully approached the mine shaft. It was straight-forward enough, with a series of wooden beams supporting a crude tunnel leading deeper into the mountain.

The slight vibration of her medallion alerted her to the fact that the striga was, indeed, sleeping further into the mountain. Bellatrix wasn't stupid enough to face the beast on its home turf in close quarters.

No, she'd have to be a clever Cat.

She studied the beams and was certain that a few well placed dancing star bombs would collapse the entire entrance in one fell swoop. Immediately, she got to work and rolled out her alchemy pack. With some saltpeper and sulfur at hand, she made five bombs and placed four of them strategically along the mine's entrance.

While there was time, she also mixed a potion which would help her focus her efforts.

For now, she did all she could do. It was time to meditate and prepare for the fight. Bellatrix sat down on her knees and was quickly lost to her thoughts as the sun made its journey through the heavens.

Her quiet contemplation was roused by the fierce vibration of her medallion. Bellatrix's eyes shot open and she jumped to her feet. By now time had passed deep into the night, but still she could see without trouble in the darkest nights. That was one of the benefits she had which the Wolves lacked – perfect nightvision due to her mutations, so she would never need a separate potion.

The growls coming from the mine shaft were indication enough that the beast was coming and she could already make out its outline in the darkness.

Still, she could use a little bit of extra adrenalin and thus quickly consumed a Maribor Forest she had prepared earlier. And not a moment too soon: the second she felt the potion's effects soaring through her body, a massive claw grabbed onto the beam of the mine shaft's entrance almost as if to draw itself forth.

What appeared was a hulking, muscular beast which showed no hint of the girl it had once been. Thick arms and thicker legs, it stood on all fours with claws like daggers. Skin grey and mottled, and a distorted skull with distended jaws full of teeth which would put the crocolisks of home to shame. The image of horror was finished by the sight of dried and caked blood all over its head and front of its body. This had been the last thing many a traveler on this road had ever seen.

The beast had, of course, already spotted her and threw its head up in the air to let out the most ungodliest of roars.

Bellatrix grinned: it was time to get to work, and she had no doubt that it would be enjoyable.

Silver for monsters, she slowly drew the rapier from her back. As a Cat, her sword along with her other gear was built for agility, speed and precision, fitting with her training and mutations. A light, but razor-sharp silver rapier, a light gambeson which was black as night and further secured with patches of chain-mail and plates of leather, all designed to not impede her swiftness of motion. Her long dark curly mane tamed by being tied back in a tail, she was ready to show this creature just how agile she could be.

She didn't have to wait long. The beast charged, the ground shaking with every running step. The beast was fast for something its size and bulk, but not fast enough. Bellatrix easily sidestepped the creature and, as it overshot her, twirled around her axis and slashed out with her rapier. The beast roared as it slid to a halt to turn, and the dark witcher could clearly see the blood flowing from the thin long and deep wound along its entire side.

First blood had gone to Bellatrix.

The dark witcher let out a fierce and mocking cackle. Of course, she didn't know for certain if the creature was intelligent enough to understand that it was being mocked, but that was no excuse not to do it.

A witcher had to hold up a certain level of decorum, after all. Especially a Cat.

The striga let out another roar and charged a second time. Bellatrix grinned and made a running start towards it. Before the beast could reach her, she launched herself into air and jumped over the creature. Time seemed to come to a crawl as the beast tried to slow and rear up to futilely claw at her. All the while, Bellatrix twisted her body as she rolled through the air and slashed out with her rapier. Three more wounds burst open on the beast's back, one for every roll, while Bellatrix landed perfectly on her two feet and dove to the side when the beast attempted to pounce on her.

The beast was getting frustrated now, that much she could see. Another roar in blinding rage. Another pounce which Bellatrix could easily avoid by rolling to her side, diving forward and twisting herself.

Oh, she didn't need to cackle. She didn't need to poke the tip her rapier into the confused beast's arse either. But nobody said that a witcher couldn't have a little fun on the job, now did they?

The beast bellowed again and charged. This time Bellatrix didn't move. She stood as a statue, calm and smiling as the beast drew ever closer and closer. Just as the beast pounced with its claws out, ready to claw her innards out, Bellatrix lashed forward and released the full power of Aard on the creature. The surprised beast let out an almost poodle-like yelp when it was send backwards and crashed violently into the well, just as Bellatrix had intended. Bits of stone and masonry were sent flying and the beast landed on its back.

It took a few moments for the striga to recover, and frantically looked around for a prey which was suddenly nowhere in sight.

Creeping from her perch, on the thatched roof of what was once the town's inn, Bellatrix watched the beast as it sniffed the air for her. It was only a matter of time before she was discovered, but this lull in combat would give her a prime opportunity to make her next move. Carefully, she removed the fifth dancing star bomb from her belt and lit the fuse with a careful application of a minor ignis from her fingertips.

The beast seemed confused when something flew over head and landed perfectly at the entrance to its lair. It turned around just in time to see the bomb go off, starting off a chain reaction in the other bombs which caused the entrance to the mine to collapse in a fiery explosion.

A cackle sounded from the roof of the inn. Bellatrix still wasn't certain that the beast was intelligent enough to know that it was being mocked, but she was certain that it understood perfectly well that she had just cut off its escape to the safety of its lair.

More rage. More bellows. Bellatrix wasn't impressed when the beast snarled up at her, and repaid it with a couple of silver bolts from the small crossbow she produced from the side of her hip. The striga yelped and yipped when it suddenly felt two bolts buried deep into the thick flesh of its neck. The beast howled and slashed its claws at it, trying to dislodge them. Another roar and the beast crashed forward, splintering the old wood from the inn's walls and going wild inside.

Hearing the commotion below her, Bellatrix figured it was only a matter of time before the beast would bring down the entire structure. The dark witcher quickly jumped from roof to roof only for the beast to follow her, crashing from the inn into the adjacent building.

By now the beast was enraged, wounded and angry. It was time to finish it off. She put her fingers to her mouth and let out the loudest whistle she could muster. After sheathing her rapier to her back, she took the enchanted rope from her side and held it as she jumped quickly from roof. When she reached the top of the little home opposite to the now very destroyed inn, the beast came forth into the center of town, bloodied, tired and roaring.

In the distance, she could hear hoofbeats approaching. Bellatrix would have to time this carefully.

As the beast stepped forward, Bellatrix started twirling the rope faster and faster. The beast stepped closer. The hoofbeats came ever closer. The dark witcher could feel the beating of her own heart pounding in her chest and focused.

One.

Two.

Three.

Just as Abacus came galloping through the town, Bellatrix jumped off the roof and tossed out the rope to the approaching beast. The dark witcher rolled forward through the air, twisting her body and ended up exactly where she wanted to be: right in the saddle. The magically strengthened rope lassoed around the beast's thick neck and tightened while a swift Bellatrix quickly fastened it to the back of her saddle and kicked Abacus in the sides to pick up speed.

The horse bolted forward, the rope went tight and the beast was pulled off its feet as the powerful stallion yanked it behind him. Bellatrix yelled again, motioning the horse to keep going as he and his rider exploded out of the abandoned village, dragging a yipping striga along with them.

Oh, the beast tried to right itself, claw against the rope and find its footing in the dirt, but the top-heavy beast could only find itself being dragged along helplessly as Bellatrix and Abacus rode over roads, through fields, streams and even an odd village or two.

No doubt the villagers would have weeks to material to wag their tongues about: a cackling, laughing witcher on a horse rushing through their village, dragging a struggling, massive, yipping monster behind her off to parts unknown. There'd be many a tall tale to be told over mugs of ale at local inns.

She rode until she could see the reddish glow of the dawn coming over the hills. It was sunlight which would break the curse and the beast would not be able to escape the sun's cleansing rays of light. The fight was over and Bellatrix was the undisputed victor. The dark witcher pulled the reigns, motioning her trusty steed to stop in the road after releasing the rope from her saddle. She had done most of the work, now it was up for the sun to do the rest.

"Well done, old friend," Bellatrix patted Abacus on the side of the neck before dismounting.

Not a scratch on her. She'd have quite a tale to tell to the Wolves too. She'd heard Geralt had dealt with a striga before as well a few years back. Perhaps they could compare notes.

Still, this was no reason get complacent. Curses could linger and she wouldn't be much of a Cat if she wasn't careful. What was left of the beast would now be lying in the dirt road in the light of the sun. The dark witcher approached carefully only to find... a rather lovely young brown-haired girl lying naked in the dirt road. The cursed had thankfully taken the blood and the wounds on the striga with it, leaving the girl unharmed and unspoiled with no signs of the damage Bellatrix had inflicted upon her while still a striga.

"Well," Bellatrix chuckled. "Hello there, Hermione."

The girl didn't react to her name and was seemingly unconscious. Bellatrix stopped in her tracks as her medallion started to vibrate slightly. This could simply be residual magic from a freshly broken curse, but... this could also be a trick. The dark witcher drew a silver dagger and shot forward, kneeling besides the girl and pressing the dagger against her throat, ready to slash swiftly if the girl would make a single wrong move.

Nothing.

Only one way to make sure. Carefully, Bellatrix reached out with two fingers and lifted the girl's lips to inspect her teeth. She found the girl's incisors to be of normal size and she let out a sigh: the curse was well and truly broken and she wouldn't have to present the nice couple that hired her with the dead body of their daughter with a slashed throat for burial.

Still, Bellatrix couldn't help herself from stealing another look. Hermione was a lovely young woman. Half-elven, nubile, almost twenty and lucky in a sense that she could easily pass for a rather slender human girl if she were to hide the slight tips of her ears with a bandanna, a hat or even the right hairstyle.

Bellatrix quickly admonished herself: she considered the girl might not like waking up to find herself naked and being ogled at by a witcher, pretty though she may be. A whistle later and Abacus was by her side. She took her old travel cloak from her pack and wrapped it around the now shivering girl. Picking her up, she hoisted herself and the girl onto Abacus.

She rode her horse back to Ban Gleann, calmly trotting this time as Abacus had done enough running already. About halfway through the trip, the girl in her arms stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She seemed stricken for a moment, looking around to see where she was and what was happening.

"Sssh," Bellatrix whispered. "It's over now."

Hermione said nothing, still somewhat confused. Bellatrix was not surprised: she's probably have some snippets of memory from her time spent as a striga, most of which would only resurface in the darkest of nightmares. At worst, she'd have a hole in her memory of several months.

The half-elven girl rested her head against Bellatrix's armored chest and simply enjoyed the warmth of the sun while being cradled during the ride. By now, Ban Gleann was already in sight and they rode together in silence.

Only a few moments later, Bellatrix rode through the city gates and drew quite a bit of attention from the trade quarter's denizens. You'd think they've never seen a witcher holding onto a naked, cloak-covered woman before.

Apparently, some urchins had run ahead since, when she rounded about the corner, her parents... father human, mother elven... were already outside their barber-surgery waiting for her to approach. She gave the overjoyed parents a moment with their daughter, watching them inside their home. Still, it was time for payment.

As her mother embraced Hermione so fiercely it looked liked she would end up with a cracked rib or two, her father approached her with his undying gratitude and a bag of coins. She weighed the bag in her hand, finding it close enough to what the price they had agreed on should weigh.

It was quite a pleasant enough thought: in her hand, she held a week's worth of the best suites, the finest dining and the prettiest of courtesans.

Still, when she looked around the barber-surgery, she found the place a lot emptier than it had been when she had agreed to take the job. She looked at the bag of gold in her hand, the surgery and then the happy family. It looked like they'd had to sell quite a bit of things to be able to afford the agreed upon price. And if this was their place of work, she imagined their living quarters would be even emptier.

Bellatrix sighed heavily: a mixed-race family would have it difficult enough in this region without some witcher coming along to take almost everything they had for what was essentially booze-money.

"Hey," Bellatrix called out, causing the family to look at her. Without saying another world, she opened the bag and fished a single coin it and then closed the bag again. She tossed the bag back to the father to catch, help up the single coin and slid it into one of the pouches on her belt.

The parents gave her a questioning look. "It's fine," Bellatrix replied as she turned around and walked towards the door. "Just spread the word."

The dark witcher just walked into the street and patted her horse: she'd have to meditate in the stables with Abacus tonight, but it wasn't a total loss. She was unknown in this region and what she had done had already set many of tongues in this city wagging. As her reputation grew, more interesting and better paying jobs would find her quickly enough. And she still had some pendants and rings to pawn. So, all in all, it wasn't a total loss.

She had just mounted Abacus and was about to set off when the girl, now thankfully hastily dressed, came running out.

"Wait!" shouted the girl... Hermione. "Wait a moment!"

"What is it?" Bellatrix asked gruffly.

"I... I don't even know your name."

"Bellatrix," replied. "Bellatrix of Ebbing. Or Bellatrix, Cat of Toussaint. Or just Bellatrix. Whatever you prefer."

"I.. I promise that one day, I'll find a way to repay you for saving me," the half-elven girl said.

Bellatrix chuckled. "Smile for me."

"Hm?"

"Smile for me," the dark witcher repeated.

Confused, but willing, Hermione did manage to shoot her the warmest for smiles.

"Done," said Bellatrix, gave Hermione a wink and rode forward, riding out of town. She was almost certain she would never see the girl again. One glance over her shoulder and she could still see the girl standing in the street with a wistful look on her face until the witcher rounded about the corner and rode out of town through the city gates.

Bellatrix smiled to herself as she calmly rode the path, the wind whipping around her. If only her sisters could see her now! The vapid nobility of her home which could have been her fate if she had chosen to accept the emptiness of an arranged marriage to a useless lout to further her family's political games... sure, the life of the witcher could be wrought with dangers, pain and challenges, but at least it was a life worth living.

If she rode Abacus on the path North, she considered that she should be able to make to Kaer Morhen in about two days and there'd be plenty of comforts and relaxation there. In fact, it was customary for a witcher of a different school than that of the Wolf to present a gift when asking to spend the winter at the keep and she still had some time to hunt. She figured a boar would do, as the Wolves did always enjoy their roasted meat while sitting at the warm fire.

Hm. Perhaps Geralt would be interested in playing a game of Gwent.