#and Eskel is an excellent uncle

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Lambert tried to let the yelling and squealing fade into the background as he sat at one of the picnic tables keeping one eye on his niece, the bright pink bunny ears he'd bought her on the way in paired with her blue dress making for an excellent marker as she ran around in circles like something possessed in her hunt for chocolate eggs. Ciri had talked about nothing but the children's Easter egg hunt at the local petting zoo all week and then of course, both Geralt and Jaskier had to fall sick when Yenn was also out of town and Eskel's car was busted, leaving Lambert to step in to save the day. Or giving him a convenient excuse to not work on that paper which was due when college classes started up again. Potato, potahto. So long as Ciri was happy, right?

Speaking of, Lambert frowned when he saw Ciri attempting to climb the fence on the far side of the playing field. They'd been expressly told the perimeters of the hunt before they started so unless she'd gotten distracted or bored, there was no reason for her to be over there. He made to yell her back before realising she'd probably be too far away to hear him and started walking over. He picked up the pace when he saw a dark skinned man who looked to be around his age in the bright yellow t-shirt which marked him out as farm staff come over and lean on the other side of the fence, smiling as he said something to Ciri. Lambert was still too far away to hear but he caught the gist as Ciri diligently placed both feet back on the ground and instead started gesturing to the large tree which the other man was stood underneath.

Lambert reached them both just in time to hear him laugh before he practically launched himself into the branches and disappeared amongst the thick foliage.

"Ciri?" He asked coming to stand next to his niece, "What are you doing over here?"

"He with you, sweetheart?" A voice from above piped up and Lambert looked up to see the mystery employee perched on a branch, staring down at him critically with eyes so green they could almost blend in with the leaves.

"It's Uncle Lambert. My daddy's his big brother and that's why he's my uncle!" She called back happily, giving the explanation which had now become routine ever since they'd explained the basics to her of how family trees work and proceeding to hang off his arm for emphasis.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, "Well, Uncle Lambert. How are you at catching?"

Lambert barely had time to process the question before an egg wrapped in bright blue foil was plummeting downwards, Lambert lunging to catch it on instinct before dropping it into Ciri's basket. It was swiftly followed by many others in various colours, the two adults building up something of a rhythm somewhere around the fifth.

"Think that's all of them!" Was the only warning they got before the other didn't so much climb down the tree as drop down, startling Lambert a little with the suddenness and impressing him with the fact that he'd managed to stick the landing from that height.

"Thank you!" Ciri cried out happily, giving him a gap toothed smile, "Uncle Lambert, I want to play on the slide." She shoved her now near overflowing basket into Lambert's side before darting off towards the playground, leaving Lambert to follow behind.

"She's got a good eye." The other said, vaulting over the fence and falling into step next to him, "Name's Aiden by the way." He said pointing to the name badge plastered with various animal stickers which declared as much, "Figured it was only fair seeing as I found yours out."

"Who the hell decided to hide eggs up a god damn tree anyway?" Lambert asked looking back over his shoulder, "How were the kids supposed to find those?"

"I don't think they were." Aiden replied. Lambert raised an eyebrow, inviting him to elaborate, "That tree has a hollow about halfway up. I think one of the guys who was in charge of setting this up stashed a bunch for himself up there and accidentally left that blue one your niece spotted poking out." Aiden gave him a wide grin, "Honestly, that's the best karma ever for literally trying to take candy from babies."

Lambert gave a matching smile, allowing himself to share in the enjoyment of karmic justice, "You being serious?"

"Unfortunately. If it's who I think, they can be a bit of a dick whenever they get scheduled during the holidays. You should've seen the Christmas display, they put a few of the elves in some rather suggestive poses."

Aiden pulled out his phone and started scrolling before holding it out for Lambert to look at, sure enough there were numerous shots of plastics elves in various positions and poses which would have had Geralt and Jaskier covering Ciri's eyes but had Lambert laughing in delight, "Ok, but those are pretty funny."

"We thought so, too. The parents very much wouldn't have though. Luckily our supervisor noticed before we opened for the day."

Lambert gave another laugh before looking over to where he could see Ciri waiting in line for her turn on the slide.

"Hey uh, nice job too by the way. Not just on the egg retrieval but-" Lambert petered off awkwardly.

"Checking that she actually knew you?"

Lambert nodded.

"Of course. Can't be too careful with kids, right? Especially at something like this, although you'd be surprised how many guardians take offence. Still, I'd rather get yelled at than be the one who let a kid go off with a total stranger, you know?"

"Uncle Lambert, come push me!!" Ciri yelled from the swings.

"And that's my queue." Lambert sighed, adjusting his hold on Ciri's basket. Surprisingly, he'd been enjoying the others company, "Thanks again, Aiden."

"Don't mention it. I'd better get back to work too." He turned to leave before seeming to think better of it and turning back, looking slightly hopeful, "Hey. Our baby pygmy goats should be old enough to meet the public next weekend. If you guys are free you should come and say hi, they're seriously cute."

"You working that weekend?"

Aiden nodded, "I'm scheduled for the Sunday."

"Then we'll see you on Sunday, Aiden."

[inexplicifics]

Dearest Inex, could I throw a plot bunny to the wolves? (Well it's not so much a full fledged bunny as a carrot that might one day attract one.)

I vaguely remember people talking about the possibility of dogs in Kaer Morhen so since Geralt is about to go on progress: How about the Warlord being gifted a litter of Temerian Wolfhounds (=expensive rare breed whose import/export is extremely tightly regulated. They don't need to actually be from Temeria, I just liked the sound of 'Temerian Wolfhound' as a breed name :D). They look very wolf-like and make excellent guard dogs. One of the litter is an albino with pure white fur, which is why they had the idea to gift them all to the White Wolf. Someone half-jokingly suggests to name it after Geralt but is shut down. Naturally Lambert then suggests "Roger" as a name (or perhaps "Eric" / "Erica" if it's a female dog). Unfortunately Ciri LOVES the name her uncle Lambert has come up with and doesn't understand why Papa doesn't like it, so there goes any discussion. Geralt names the smallest and bitiest pup of the bunch "Lambchop" in retaliation. Eskel just sighs and picks up the most good-natured one of the pups, who ends up being totally useless for anything other than getting belly-rubs because it tries to befriend everyone, stubbornly refuses to make even an attempt at biting and generally lets the tiniest kittens boss it around (Sometimes Eskel is secretly jealous. He only ever got saddled with paperwork and diplomacy as a reward for being Too Nice, not treats!)

Bonus: Ciri eventually trains Roger to assist her with at least one new goose trick

Awww, the Kaer Morhen crew with wolfhounds is a delightful concept.

[starwrittenfates]

❝ Hatred and vengeance blinded me ... But I shall stand before them in humility. I shall remember the expression in their eyes. I hope the memory of those eyes will stop me making a similar mistake. ❞

↳ 𝙿𝙾𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂 — Ciri/Avallac'h, Ciri/Cahir, Ciri/Cerys , Ciri/OC, etc.

↳ 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 — Geralt, Yennefer, Dandelion, etc.

↳ NOTE: As the Lady of Space & Time, Ciri has the ability to crossover into any universe and time freely. She doesn't have to stick to the world of the Witcher.

THREADS || NAVIGATION || STUDY || VERSE 1 || VERSE 2 ||

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

NAME MEANING: Cirilla = Swallow 

NICKNAMES/TITLES: Ciri, Lion Cub of Cintra, Zireael, Swallow, Ashen One, Lady of Space and Time, The Lady of the Worlds,  Lady of the Lake, Ciri of Vengerberg

AGE + DOB: 20s / May 1st, 1252

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Female - She/Her

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

SPECIES: Human

OCCUPATION: Witcheress, Princess of Cintra

APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM: Video Game & Freya Allan

HAIR COLOR: Ashen-Gray

EYE COLOR: Emerald-Green

SCARS:

OTHER REMARKABLE FEATURES:

BACKGROUND.

BIRTHPLACE: Skellige

CURRENT HOME: Verse Dependent

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Human/Cintran

LANGUAGES: Ellylon, Elder Speech, Common

PARENTS: Pavetta (Biological Mother, Deceased), Emhyr var Emreis (Biological Father), Geralt of Rivia (Adoptive Father), Yennefer of Vengerberg (Adoptive Mother)

SIBLINGS: N/A

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None

CHILDREN: None

OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: Vesemir (Adoptive Grandfather), Eskel (Adoptive Uncle), Lambert (Adoptive Uncle), Lara Dorren (Ancestor), Calanthe Fiona Riannon (Grandmother)

NOTABLE RELATIONSHIPS: TBA

PSYCHOLOGY/MIND.

MYERS-BRIGGS: ESFP - The Entertainer

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: Type 7 - The Enthusiast

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

CHARACTER TRAITS: Adventureous, Compassionate, Witty, Stubborn, 

LIKES: TBA

DISLIKES: TBA

ZODIAC: TBA

FEARS & PHOBIAS: TBA

WISHES & DREAMS: TBA

CHARACTER TROPES: Action Girl, Ambiguously Bi, Anti-Hero, Apocalypse Maiden, Badass Adorable, Benevolent Mage Ruler, Blemished Beauty, Blessed with Suck, Bratty Half-Pint, Break the Cutie, Changed My Mind Kid, Cheerful Child, The Chosen One, Covered in Scars, Cuddle Bug, Daddy's Girl, Deuteragonist, Dimensional Traveler, Distaff Counterpart, Doom Magnet, Dreaming of Things to Come, Dude Magnet, Eager Rookie, Embarrassing Nickname, Embarrassing Tattoo, Everyone Went to School Together, Faking the Dead, Flash Step, The Good Queen, Happily Adopted, The Heart, Heroic BSoD, Hiding the Handicap, I Just Want to Be Normal, Last of Her Kind, Little Miss Badass, Living MacGuffin, Mystical White Hair, New Parent Nomenclature Problem, New Powers as the Plot Demands, One-Man Army, One of the Boys, Oracular Urchin, Parental Abandonment, Person of Mass Destruction, The Pollyanna, Powerful and Helpless, Princess in Rags, Princess Protagonist, Red Baron, Royal Brat, Screw This I'm Outta Here!, She's All Grown Up, Tangled Family Tree, This Is Something He's Got to Do Himself, Tomboy with a Girly Streak, Took a Level in Badass, Took a Level in Jerkass, Traumatic Superpower Awakening, Unskilled but Strong, 

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Master Swordswoman

Master Acrobat

Hand-to-Hand Combat

Elder Blood (Blink & Dimension Travel)

PERSONALITY.

Ciri is impulsive and opportunistic. Much like her adoptive father, Geralt, she excels at thinking on her feet, without an immediate plan, living in the moment. Throughout the third game, Ciri is constantly switching between space and time, and while it tires her, she is quick to adapt to the various situations she is thrown in to. Ciri wants to do something. She reacts outward, when happy, angry or sad, and feels better after trashing a room to let out her frustrations; she prefers this instead of talking about her actual feelings. Geralt can cheer her up through physical games, like a snowball fight, to lighten her mood after a traumatic experience. Ciri rarely puts much thought behind her actions if they seem to work in the current moment, but she does have tendencies to think of a larger, more meaningful perspective. This is most prevalent in her final decision in the third game, where she gives herself momentum and impulsivity to put herself in a life threatening situation, and be motivated by the decision of thinking of her choice as a sacrifice for the entire world. Ciri matures throughout the story. 

She is very idealistic, and very black and white in her thinking. Much of her confronting behavior comes from a low-order Te, making her seem controlling and abrasive in stressful situations. She largely keeps her vulnerability closely guarded, but opens up among trusted people. Many of her decisions are motivated by wanting to do the right thing, even though saving the world seems impossible at times. Ciri has a good heart, and is willing to sacrifice herself and put herself in danger to help other people she deems innocent and worthy of help – largely innocent villagers and children. Regarding people she does not respect, there is no such love, and Ciri has no qualms going against them. Ciri lacks nuance in her moral compass, especially when judging others for their behavior. At times, Fi and Te combines to an unwilling and unbending front, where Ciri refuses to consider other aspects, because she has assessed the situation and deemed it against her morals. She has arguments with Yennefer because Yennefer values the bigger picture over moral details, and Ciri refuses to put her feelings at low priority.Ciri doesn’t hesitate. She believes in action and bravery, putting yourself out there and sacrificing yourself for a good cause. She is also very competitive. “Free Spirit” is a very fitting descriptor of Ciri. She is fun-loving and opportunistic, but with survival instincts that aggressively defends her position. Ciri also has a strong sense of self and identity, mixing some idealization in a strong and free-spirited outlook on life.

BIOGRAPHY.

After the Witcher Geralt of Rivia lifted a curse from Duny, the Urcheon of Erlenwald, he demanded from Duny his wife Pavetta's firstborn child, a child he had but didn't know he had, due to the Law of Surprise. Six years to the day after the child's birth, Geralt went back to Cintra for her, but did not take her with him to Kaer Morhen at that time. In fact, he didn't even lay eyes on her and only spoke with Calanthe. The Queen divulged no information to him, not even the child's gender. This child was named Cirilla.

While she was still an infant, Ciri's parents were both lost in a storm at sea. They were presumed dead. She spent her youth in Cintra and the Skellige Islands, cared for by her grandmother. Ciri first met Geralt when she was lost in the forest of Brokilon. She was nearly taken by the dryads, who wished to make her one of their own. The Queen of the dryads, Eithné, unexpectedly let the girl choose her own future. Ciri chose Geralt, and wished to stay with him after they left Brokilon. However, the Witcher would not take her with him. Instead, he left her with the druid Mousesack who was working for Calanthe. Then came the slaughter of Cintra.

During the Nilfgaardian invasion of Cintra, Ciri was kidnapped by a Nilfgaardian knight named Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, though his identity was not known at the time. She managed to escape and wandered aimlessly for some time through Sodden until she was ultimately adopted by a merchant's family.

Coincidentally, Geralt had been helped by that same merchant and transported to his home. Thus, Ciri and Geralt were once again united. This time the Witcher took her with him to Kaer Morhen, where, under the supervision of Triss Merigold she underwent partial Witcher training, sans mutations, with Geralt, Vesemir, Lambert, Eskel and Coën. It was there that it was confirmed that Ciri was a source.

Geralt and Triss later took her to the Temple of Melitele in Ellander where she received instruction from Nenneke, and then from Yennefer, who began Ciri's magical training in earnest. As news of war began to spread, Ciri and Yennefer left Ellander for Gors Velen and ultimately Thanedd Island and Aretuza where the sorceress intended to enroll the girl as well as attend a conference of mages.

Things did not work out as planned though, not by a long shot. There was a coup during the conference and several individuals including Vilgefortz and Cahir tried to capture Ciri once again, and once again failed with the girl escaping through an unstable magical portal in Tor Lara. Because of the portal's nature, Ciri was simply ejected in mid-air over the Korath desert.

Unaware of where she was and without obvious recourse, the girl decided to make her way out of the wasteland by heading west. Unfortunately she wandered around in circles for some time before deciding to use the stars as a guide. She nearly died of exhaustion, dehydration and starvation. Luckily to her she met a unicorn whom she nicknamed Horsey that helped her out of the Frying Pan (a folk name for the deadly desert).

Ciri, who was still undergoing an emotional tribulation, then joined the Rats, a group of ne'er-do-wells she met when they were rescuing one of their members, under the name Falka. Bounty hunter Leo Bonhart was hired by Stefan Skellen to kill Ciri and by baron Casadei to capture her alive. Bonhart killed the Rats and cut off their heads after their deaths. He neither killed Ciri, nor brought her to baron Casadei, therefore not fullfilling his contracts. Bonhart imprisoned her for some time, beating her, mistreating and forcing her to kill in the arena at Claremont, which belonged to his cousin Houvenaghel.

Ciri managed to escape with the help of Neratin Ceka when Bonhart had taken her to the village of Unicorn on the eve of the equinox. He had gone to meet with Skellen and Rience and possibly negotiate some terms to release Ciri. Bonhart then killed Neratin Ceka, and Skellen seriously wounded Ciri, disfiguring her with an orion as she fled the village on her mare, Kelpie.

Later, she was found, near death by Vysogota of Corvo, who hid and healed at his hermitage in the Pereplut swamp. She stayed with Vysogotha until shortly after Saovine when she set off to find the Swallow's tower.

Together with Skellen and Rience, Bonhart tried to hunt her down on the order of Vilgefortz. Eventually, she escaped to Tor Zireael.

Being a twin tower to Tor Lara, Tor Zireael had a portal which led Cirilla to the world of the Aen Elle elves. There she was greeted by Avallac'h, an Aen Saevherne. He explained to her that she had to 'pay the debt' referring to the perceived loss to the Aen Elle when Lara Dorren took Cregennan of Lod as her lover. The elves believed that the latter had 'stolen' Elder Blood from them by marrying Lara. To atone for that 'crime' Avallac'h wanted Ciri to beget a child with Auberon Muircetach, the king of the Aen Elle. That being the only way Avallac'h would let her return to her own world. On their way to Tir ná Lia, the Aen Elle capital, they met Eredin and his Dearg Ruadhri. Ciri was initially quite infatuated with him - he realised that and tried to use it to control her. They also came across a pack of unicorns which appeared to be at war with Aen Elle.

In Tir na Lia Ciri finally met Auberon, who many times tries to conceive a child with her, however he could not - to him she was just a human, a being of no interest for an Aen Elle. Nevertheless he was very proud and refused to admit it. Eredin suggested using a 'potion' which would improve Auberon's performance and allow him to conceive a child with Cirilla. He also told her the truth (probably to gain her trust) - that Avallac'h would never let her go. Knowing this, Ciri found help with the unicorns where she also met Horsey/Ihuarraquax, by then fully grown. The unicorns explained that both Fox and Sparrowhawk had once possessed The Gate of the Worlds, a mystical power known only to those of the Elder Blood but they had lost it. Now they wanted these powers back and for that they needed Ciri. This could not be allowed, however and the unicorns explained to Cirilla how she should escape.

That same day Ciri once again visited Auberon only to find that he had drunk the 'potion' given to him by Eredin. Unknown to Sparrowhawk it happened to be too strong and killed Auberon. That night Ciri attempted to escape Tir na Lia and its barrier by using a boat and swimming with the river's current. She was stopped by Eredin who then revealed his true intentions, being the same as Avallac'h's. The two battled and Ciri proved victorious due to the elf's underestimation of her abilities - she wounded him and threw him into the river. Later on she mounted Kelpie and rode away from Tir na Lia. She met Horsey who offered his help (actually his being by Ciri's side was a part of her bargain with the other unicorns). They came across a huge pile of bones. To her horror, Ciri realised that the skulls had human teeth making them a pile of human bones. Ihuarraquax explained that it had been a human world until the elves led by Fox and Sparrowhawk arrived and killed them all - this also would be the fate of other worlds, including Ciri's own, should Avallac'h and Eredin succeed in once again harnessing the power of time and space. Nevertheless, Ihuarraquax and Ciri realised that they were being chased. Horsey urged Ciri to jump to another world - the only way to escape. She, however didn't know how. The unicorn became her guide and they jumped. This led to the manifestation of Ciri's strongest power, giving her the title of The Lady of the Worlds. That power allowed her to traverse space and time at will. Not being able to control it, however, Ciri had to journey through many different worlds to finally find her own.

THE WITCHER 3: WILD HUNT

In the prologue, Geralt experiences a dream where he trains a younger Ciri at Kaer Morhen. However, the dream turns into a nightmare, as the Wild Hunt appears, freezing everyone, including Ciri, with Geralt helpless to act.

Having hidden in another world for over half a year the Wild Hunt found Ciri forcing her to flee. At some point Ciri discovered that Geralt had been captured by the Wild Hunt and managed to free him and send him to the forests outside of Kaer Morhen although he lost his memory in the process.

Several months later Ciri along with an elf called Avallac'h returned from another world ending up in Skellige where the Wild Hunt found and attacked them cursing Avallac'h and forcing Ciri to teleport away. This lead her to appear in Crookback Bog where she collapsed and was found by the Crones. The Crones intended to give her to the Wild Hunt however knew that she possessed Elder blood and could not decide whether to cut her up for her blood or not. Ciri realising this escaped and fled into the nearby forest, narrowly evading Imlerith. Traveling west into Velen, she encountered a young girl who was lost and rescued her as well as a local man from a werewolf. She was then taken to Crow's Perch and taken in by Philip Strenger (known as the Bloody Baron) who alongside with his men she befriended. During a race with Philip the two are attacked by a monster and Ciri was forced to use her powers to save him. However, Ciri realised that Wild Hunt would sense her powers so she left Crow's Perch and headed to Novigrad.

Ciri tracked down Dandelion to enlist his help in repairing a phylactery to lift the curse on Avallac'h, though she excluded the identity of her friend. Dandelion suggested going to Cyprian "Whoreson Junior" Willy. Willy later turned on them, capturing and torturing their friend Dudu. Ciri managed to rescue Dudu but her activities got the attention of the Temple Guard, who chased her towards Temple Isle. Just as an crossbowman took a shot at her, Ciri teleported herself to safety.

Ciri teleported all the way to Skellige, where she fell unconscious, dropping into a lake. Avallac'h found her and gave her to the safety of a native Skelliger, Skjall, and his family. When she came to, Ciri accepted the invitation to heal at the local sauna. But soon as she prepared to depart, the Wild Hunt descended on the village, forcing Ciri to flee once more. She found her way to Avallac'h, who was waiting with a boat. But upon seeing Skjall being cut down by a Red Rider, she attempted to turn back to help him, but Avallac'h stunned her with a sleeping spell and took her to the Isle of Mists to hide her from the Hunt.

Ciri was taken in by a company of seven dwarves, who were also stranded on the Isle. She is later found by Geralt, who had managed to lift the curse on Avallac'h, who gave him a magical firefly to lead him to the Isle. After gaining the trust of the dwarves, whose number had been reduced to five, Geralt is allowed to see Ciri. Seeing her prone form, he assumed her dead, until the firefly merges with her, stirring the young woman awake. Geralt and Ciri catch up on what happened to the latter. Ciri reveals Eredin's motive for pursuing her, explaining that the Aen Elle world faces annihilation, so the King of the Hunt seeks to use her to power the portal to allow his army to conquer the Continent, even at the risk of Ciri's life.

As they prepare to leave, they discover the dwarves had taken Geralt's boat and fled the Isle, before spotting the Wild Hunt's flagship, the Naglfar, in the distance, forcing Ciri to teleport them directly to Kaer Morhen. Upon arrival, Ciri is happily reunited with Vesemir, Yennefer and Triss.

However, the time for celebration was cut short, as the Hunt would soon assault the aging keep. Ciri was ordered to remain inside the keep while everyone else defended her. Triss provided Ciri with a magical amulet to call down a magical fireball. However, Ciri defies orders and goes to help Triss when she came under attack by Hunt warriors. She later assisted Eskel against Caranthir, before the Hunt general hears a war horn signalling him to retreat.

Ultimately, the Hunt breaches Kaer Morhen, freezing everyone except for Ciri and Vesemir. They are then attacked by Imlerith, allowing Eredin to finally get a hold of Ciri. But as he dragged her towards a portal, Vesemir breaks off from Imlerith and engages Eredin, forcing the elf to release Ciri. As Imlerith charged at the elderly witcher, Vesemir used Aard to push Ciri away as the large elf lifts him up by the throat. Surrounded by the Wild Hunt and with her mentor held hostage, Ciri dropped her sword in surrender. However, Vesemir stabbed Imlerith, prompted the general to snap his neck, killing him. In grief and anguish, Ciri unleashed a magical scream that affected the Hunt. Calanthir conjured a portal, which Imlerith fled through, but Eredin desperately stumbled towards Ciri. Calanthir recognized his king would die in the attempt and forcibly dragged Eredin through the portal. But Ciri's power had gone out of control, threatening to kill everyone in Kaer Morhen had not Avallac'h intervened and stopped her.

While cremating Vesemir, Ciri started to regret returning to Kaer Morhen, despite Geralt's attempts to calm her, as she snatched Vesemir's medallion off the pyre. Subsequently, Ciri tried to involve herself in a discussion between Geralt, Avallac'h, Yennefer and Triss over reassembling the Lodge of Sorceresses to fight the Hunt. She becomes angry that decisions are being made without her and departs their company.

A few days later, Ciri becomes disheartened that her training with Avallac'h hadn't be progressing well. Geralt can either cheer her up with a snowball fight or sour her with Lambert's famous home brew.

Ciri later stirs Geralt early in the morning, revealing she had discovered Imlerith was attending a sabbath on Bald Mountain in Velen, as would the Crones, though she hadn't told Avallac'h of her plans. Geralt can suggest visiting her biological father, Emperor Emhyr var Emreis, in Vizima first or go to Bald Mountain immediately.

If Geralt and Ciri go to meet Emhyr, the latter addresses her by all her titles as nobles and soldiers kneel before her. He then presents the second half of Geralt's payment as thanks for finding his daughter. Whether Geralt accepts or not affects Ciri. Ciri then engages in private conversation with Emhyr but later stormed out, angry at his attempts to buy her.

A few weeks later, Geralt and Ciri arrive at Bald Mountain and are forced to contend with the local celebration, which ends in them being sent to a sylvan named Fugas for execution. After slaying the monster, Ciri plays a game of rock, paper, scissors, to decide who will face the Crones and who would slay Imlerith. Ciri lost the game and thus went to confront the Crones. She interrupts them while they were stirring a cauldron full of human remains, prompting them to transform from beautiful women into their true, hideous forms. Ciri managed to slay Brewess and Whispess but Weavess managed to escape with Vesemir's medallion.

Their mission a success, the pair head for Novigrad, where Ciri had a multitude of personal matters to take care of. With Geralt, she revisits all the people she had encountered in the city. She was also present when Geralt and Avallac'h bring Ge'els from the world of the Aen Elle to show him proof that Eredin murdered the previous Aen Elle king, Auberon Muircetach, so he'd stop supporting the regicide. Ge'els attempts to sow animosity between Ciri and Avallac'h, but it fails. Corinne Tilly, an oneiromancer, shows everyone through dreams of Eredin's regicide.

After Philippa Eilhart and Margarita Laux-Antille are gathered, they ask to meet with Ciri. If Geralt accompanies Ciri to the meeting, it undermines her confidence. The sorceresses extended an invitation for Ciri to join the Lodge as an equal partner.

The party then travels to Skellige to find an elven artifact called the Sunstone to lure Eredin into a trap. Ciri then expresses her desire to investigate Avallac'h secret laboratory in the isles, suspecting the elf to be hiding something from her. She goes ahead with Yennefer to await Geralt's arrival. After penetrating the laboratory, they find a genealogical chart of Elder Blood descendants; Avallac'h was studying all paths of Lara Dorren, even those thought extinct. They soon encounter a she-elf, claiming to be Avallac'h's lover, who proceeds to insult Ciri, calling her a degenernate half-breed and that Avallac'h despises that he needs her. Her words anger Ciri so much that she wants to tear up the lab. Geralt can support her and aid in the ransacking, cheering her up, or calm her down and fasten Lara Dorren's necklace around her neck, depressing her.

Once outside, Ciri asks to go to Hindersfjall to see Skjall, only to be told of his death. If Geralt refuses, it depresses her. If he agrees to accompany her, they either meet up later or teleport there. Upon arrival, Ciri learns that Skjall was never buried, instead thrown on a corpse heap. After finding his corpse and giving it a proper burial, they are accosted by a band of villagers, who take issue with their defiance against their elders' writ, as Skjall was dishonoured and his name stricken. Ciri threatens retaliation if Skjall's grave is disturbed and reveals Skjall's role in saving her from the Hunt, restoring his honor.

The party then sail to Undvik to spring the trap, with the Nilfgaardian fleet preventing the Naglfar from fleeing by sea and the sorceresses blocking their attempts to teleport. As the battle started, though advised to remain on shore, Ciri realized that Geralt and his Nilfgaardian detachment were frozen and decided to go out and assist. Avallac'h advised her to find Caranthir and break the jewel on his staff to lift the spell. After fighting through Hunt warriors and hounds did Ciri engage Caranthir, eventually destroying his staff, though the effort seemingly knocked her unconscious. Caranthir then attempted to grab Ciri, only for her to teleport away.

After Geralt mortally wounded Eredin, the elven king stated that Avallac'h had tricked them both, pitting them against each other while he made off with Ciri. When Geralt confronts Avallac'h as another Conjunction of the Spheres begins, but Avallac'h drops his sword proving that he did not betray them but was just following Ciri's wish to come here. Geralt then confronts Ciri who tells him that she has to go inside the portal to stop the White Frost. Depending on Geralt's interactions with her, Ciri may either survive or die stopping the White Frost.

[avatarskywalker78]

I’d love to!!! Theodore Thawne is an OC for the TV show of the Flash and is the son of my version of Malcolm Thawne - who in my stories is Eddie’s younger brother and a good guy and invariably Cobalt Blue - and Laura, Malcolm’s girlfriend, and a speedster since his teens. His middle name is Edward in honour of his deceased uncle, and he grew up learning about how Eddie was a hero and saved the city.

I’m planning two fics with him in. One is gonna be set during S5 -  in his time period, metas were outlawed and often killed, and Theodore and his family fled to Canada from US after Theodore developed speedster powers at 11 and his parents decided that he deserved to grow up with his powers rather than having them dampened. Years later he hears that his old childhood friend Nora went back in time to save her father - and rumours that Eobard Thawne is involved. Knowing how evil and how manipulative he is, Theodore is worried enough to also run back in time, but reaching out to Nora is gonna be a task made all the more difficult given that she resents him for how he suddenly left her life and the fact that he got to keep his powers (because Nora doesn’t truly understand the danger ARGUS poses).

The second fic is gonna be set around the S9 finale and he’s more of a side character but still important. This time around the future is far brighter, and Theodore grew up alongside Nora and Bart and by 2049 is the second Cobalt Blue (the first being his father) as well as a advocate for social reform- when Eddie shows up he's excited and very happy because he knows all about him. For Eddie this is a shock in more ways than one, because aside from the fact that his estranged brother actually still loves him, he now has a nephew who - at 28 - almost the same age he was when he died and who not only knows about him but thinks of him as a hero, which puts something of a dent in the Negative Speed Force's attempts to convince him he was forgotten.

Shit still goes down, but when things are resolved and Eddie is himself again he's able to be part of his nephew's life after the timeline shifts (and most definitely does not cry when he finds out what his middle name is)

My Witcher OC Áine is a Skelligan of Clan Tordarroch and the maternal second cousin of Eist Tuirseach, as well as the main character of when a friendship is found (across the seas) - an excellent fighter (and fisher) who nonetheless stands out among her people for her strong desire to travel and see the world, which she does. She holds no water with prejudice or bigotry - perfectly willing to call it out among her own people and family - and the first non-Islander she befriends is Eskel, to his surprise. She later makes friends with Ksenia - another OC, and a Firebird from Slavic mythology - Jaskier... and, later on, a certain non-wolf Witcher. She isn't involved in most of S1's events, but goes through plenty of drama and action nonetheless, and is devastated when her cousin is slain in battle in 1263, vowing to find the one who killed him and take revenge...once she finds out what happened to her beloved little cousin Ciri.

Which of your OCs are you thinking about today?

Feel free to reblog telling me about the OC you're thinking about!

[pillage-and-lute]

Frozen Dawn

Snippet of life at Kaer Morhen +Eskel being a good brother TW: Mentions of the trials

Geralt sat, overlooking the snowy ground that cloaked Kaer Morhen. His feet dangled, one heel bumping back against the frozen battlements. That simple, rythmic movement was the only sign that the white-haired witcher hadn’t simply fallen asleep in an odd place.

Considering midnight had come and gone, he was probably out here because he couldn’t sleep. 

Eskel sat beside his brother, feelin the chill of the stones seep through his warm trousers to the skin of his thighs. Geralt couldn’t have not noticed his presence, but his eyes were trained dead ahead, pupils large in the night. Eskel stared out towards the horizon, where Geralt’s eyes were trained. 

It wasn’t a meditative state, but he let his breathing settle. His brother could sometimes have trouble with words, so he waited for them to come. If it took all night, it would. 

“Hello,” Geralt said after a long while. His breath puffed in the cold.

“Hello. You’re up late.”

“So late that it’s early,” Geralt said.

Eskel nodded.

“I am worried,” Geralt said at last.

“I figured, is it about Ciri?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I am not going to be a good father,” Geralt said, his heel still beating a steady time against the stone.

“You’ll be a better father than we ever had.”

“She deserves more.”

“Ciri has more,” Eskel said. He studied his brother’s face. Sometimes touch was welcome, sometimes not. He figured now was okay, and settled one large arm over Geralt’s shoulder. 

Despite taking twice the Trials, Geralt was slender for a witcher. Not so much as a Cat witcher, maybe, but svelte for a wolf, and lean. He’d always been so. Eskel, in comparison, was broader than average. Built like a brick shithouse, according to Lambert, and ‘of epic proportions, according to Geralt’s funny little poet friend. 

“I can’t promise that you’ll be a perfect father,” Eskel said. “I don’t think any witcher could be, but you’ll be as close as you can get. And Ciri doesn’t only have you. I’m here, I’ll be her Uncle Eskel, all of us, we’ll build a whole family here, brother.”

“But we can’t, we’re not a family.”

Eskel huffed and knocked his knuckle against his brother’s pale brow. “If you’re going to tell me that I’m not your brother, you can save your breath.”

Geralt shrugged, eyes still staring ahead. 

Eskel wondered what he was remembering, but he suspected he knew. After the second round of Trials, it was him who’d dragged Geralt back to his bed and cleaned the vomit and tears from him. He’d watched Geralt sleep fitfully as his own newly-sensitized ears listened to the flaming row some of the older witchers were having with the mages. Vesemir had been chief among them, and Eskel remembered wondering if Vesemir would kill one of the mages. 

He remembered considering helping him do so, or at least to hide the body.

“We didn’t have the best childhood,” Geralt said. Yes, he’d been thinking along the same lines.

“The cycle is broken,” Eskel said, simply. “No more shitty childhoods.”

“No more witchers,” Geralt said, quietly.

Eskel just nodded. 

“I’m not sure,” said the white wolf. “If that makes me sad or happy.”

“It can be both,” Eskel said. 

The sun came up, watery through the snow, the brother’s still sitting there. 

“Dad,” came a small voice. “Grandpa Vesemir says it’s breakfast time, and Uncle Lambert says he’ll eat all the bacon if you’re not there soon.”

Eskel smiled as Geralt turned removed himself from his vigil and walked with his daughter down to breakfast. 

“Uncle Eskel? Are you coming?”

Eskel hurried to catch up. Lambert’s threat wasn’t an empty one. He nodded to himself as he saw Geralt rest a heavy, gentle hand on Ciri’s shoulder as they walked. 

And the sun came up.

[castillon02]

Lambert and Jaskier are constantly competing to be Ciri’s favorite uncle. 

Ciri’s not gonna SAY it, but Eskel quietly won a while ago. 

[221bsunsettowers]

Geralt/Jaskier AU: Drop to Hold You

In which Jaskier is a musician and children's librarian, Geralt is a firefighter, Yen is fabulous, and Ciri really loves the library's Music Hour.

( Title and lyrics in the story from "Drop to Hold You" by Matt Nathanson.)

Can also be read on Ao3

Even if Yennifer hadn't left clear instructions about making sure Ciri didn't miss Music Time at their local library, Ciri more than ensured Geralt wouldn't forget. She had woken him up even earlier than usual, already dressed in unicorn leggings and a sequined unicorn top, bouncing on his bed while yelling "It's music day with Mr. Jaskier! C'mon Papa, c'mon!" She was not impressed with his insistence that Music Time didn't actually start for another three and a half hours.

Now, juggling a large sequined rainbow bag stuffed with snacks, books to return, and a massive wolf cub stuffed animal, Geralt let Ciri tug him into the library, her little feet hurrying determindly."Don't you want to go look at the fairytales section first?" Geralt asked, deftly catching a bag of Pirate's Booty attempting to escape from the shiny carryall.

"No, Papa, after! We have to get to sit right in the front!" Ciri called back insistently, letting out an ecstatic squeal as she beelined for the last open spot on the front side of the rug. Geralt lay the bag between his feet and leaned back against a bookcase, close enough to still see Ciri, far enough not to block any child's view.

It's then that Geralt realized the group of children were sitting on the rug-not rolling on it, not standing, not kicking, not even a single instance of flailing or shoving. Their legs were crossed like little pretzels, and while they were chattering excitedly, they weren't yelling. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Ciri sit (even this morning at breakfast she was rocking from knee to knee while precautiously perched on her chair eating waffles), or use a volume that wasn't loud enough to register on the Richter scale. He loved his daughter, more than anyone on this planet, but he could readily admit that her whispering voice could outsound a fire engine siren sometimes.

And then a man came out with a guitar, and the children started cheering, but quietly, waving their arms in the air, faces lit up with excitement, and Geralt froze. The man had brown hair that flopped slightly over his twinkling blue eyes, a wide grin, and the most outlandlishly bright floral pattererned shirt Geralt had ever seen, and Geralt, in his black t-shirt and jeans, white hair pulled back into a quick bun, could not tear his amber eyes away.

Geralt was pleasantly surprised by how clever the songs were. He had, if he was being honest, expected simple ripoffs of theme songs from those cartoons Ciri begged to watch, but somehow this man's songs were actually pleasant to listen to, and even educational on top of it all. It wasn't only Ciri's excellent teacher at her preschool that had his daughter recognizing letters and counting, he was quickly realizing but Music Hour as well.

Geralt only realized the time was up when Ciri came running up to him, throwing her arms around his legs and still dancing with excitement. "Papa, you have to come meet Mr. Jaskier!" she squealed, pulling him enthusiastically by the hand. "He's the best!"

"Better than me?" Geralt teased, and Ciri paused to look up at him, gesturing for him to bend down, then patting his cheek.

"Don't worry, Papa, you and Mama are always the best," she said seriously, nodding her head vigorously. "And Mommy Triss and Uncle Eskel and Uncle Lambert and Uncle Aiden and Grandpa Vesemir are also the best. And Mr. Jaskier is the best too."

"Right, of course," Geralt responded, making sure his tone was serious enough to match the gravity which with Ciri had clearly taken the question. He let her tug him over to the rug, where Jaskier was tidying up his things, carefully putting the guitar back in its case.

"Mr. Jaskier, Mr. Jaskier, this is my Papa!" Ciri called out excitedly, and Jaskier turned, grin growing wider as Ciri rushed in for a hug, which Jaskier crouched down for and gladly returned. Standing up again, his twinkling eyes scanned Geralt from head to toe and back again as he reached out his hand.

"It's very nice to finally meet you," Jaskier said, eyebrows raising slightly as Geralt's large hand practically swallowed his own. "Ciri talks about you all the time. I'm Jaskier."

"I thought your first name was Mr.," Ciri said, confusion causing her tiny forehead to wrinkle. Geralt chuckled as Jaskier crouched next to Ciri and winked at her.

"Mr. is my special musician name for when I'm singing songs here," Jaskier said with a grin, biting his lip to keep from laughing as he looked up at Geralt. Geralt put his best effort into not staring at the way Jaskier's lip was caught between his teeth, but Jaskier licking said lip before breaking Geralt's gaze and standing back up clued Geralt in that perhaps he hadn't been as subtle as he had hoped.

"I'm Geralt," Geralt finally blurted out, cursing in his head as he felt his cheeks turning red. Ducking his head, he quickly turned his attention to Ciri. "Should we go pick out some books for you to check out? We finished all those fairytales from last week."

"Not yet, we need to get you books! My Papa loves horses!" Ciri exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. Leaning towards Jaskier, she whispered as only a four year old can, which meant everyone in the entire children's section could hear every word. "My Mama says my Papa also loves guys with great bums, but she won't tell me what that word means."

Jaskier's eyes widened, his face scrunched with the effort to stifle a laugh as Ciri continued talking into his ear earnestly. "Do you know what that means, Mr. Jaskier? Can we look in the dictionary? Sometimes Mama says something and then says whoops and then says I can look it up in the dictionary when I'm older, but you're older and you have all the books here, right?"

Jaskier glanced at Geralt, who was frantically shaking his head while blushing furiously. Jaskier couldn't stop himself from shooting Geralt a quick wink, before turning back to Ciri. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but someone just checked out the dictionary. Let's go find your dad some horse books, how about that? Maybe some ones you can read with him."

"Ok!" Ciri said brightly, grabbing Jaskier's hand and letting him lead her towards the non-fiction part of the children's section. Geralt followed them, mumbling a grateful "Thanks" to Jaskier, who turned his head to grin at him.

Did Yen fob me off on you because she finally got sick of my 'overly sparkly rainbow unicorn energy'?" Jaskier asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Geralt unsuccessfully tried to hold back a laugh, which made Jaskier start giggling. "No, business trip," Geralt answered, trying to keep up with Ciri as she excitedly piled up horse books in his waiting arms.

"Oh good, I thought she had reached a new level of tolerance for me, her glare was much less intense," Jaskier grinned. "She actually started bringing me coffee every time, but she would only get me decaf, because she said any more pep in my step and I would spontaneously combust."

"How do you like it?" Geralt asked, immediately covering his face with one hand and shaking his head at Jaskier's aptly raised eyebrow. "Your coffee. How do you like your coffee. This is why I don't open my mouth." Raising a finger before a single word could exit Jaskier's mouth, Geralt waved it admonishingly. "No."

"You're catching on already," Jaskier laughed, eyes twinkling, "I like my coffee as full of sugar and ridiculously flavored syrup and excessive amounts of whipped cream as possible."

"Not surprising," Geralt muttered, crouching lower so Ciri could place a final book on top of the rapidly grown pile. But Jaskier could see the shy smile Geralt attempted to hide behind the stack of picture books.

yen: Did you use your words? geralt: Yes. Words plural? Yes. How many words? I wasn't counting, Yen. You must have liked him then. Goodbye, Yen. ... ... I'll take Ciri to Music again next week. Ha! And no more saying bums in front of Ciri. In my defense, you do like...but yeah, fair enough. I'll concede that point.

"Mr. Jaskier, we're the first ones!" Ciri yelled excitedly, running over and throwing her arms around Jaskier's legs.

"You sure are, sweetheart," Jaskier answered with a grin, resting a hand on her head. "How about you go pick out what instrument you want to play today? You can have first choice!" Squealing with pure joy, Ciri took off running towards the basket filled with maracas, tambourines, and bells.

"Here." Geralt held out the enormous iced coffee concoction in Jaskier's general direction, not quite meeting his eyes. Accepting the offering, Jaskier smiled broadly as he studied the drink from all angles. "Ciri ordered it."

"I said extra butterscotch syrup, and lots of whipped cream and chocolate sprinkly things!" Ciri declared proudly. "Do you like it?"

Taking a sip, Jaskier grinned, offering Ciri a high five, which she gleefully reciprocated. "It is perfectly full of both coffee and sugar, I love it!" He offered a hand to Geralt.

yen: You gave him a high five, huh? geralt: Only you can make that sound dirty. It's a talent. I didn't want to hear from Ciri how I "left him hanging". Well, she told me all about it. She was very proud of herself for picking out the perfect drink. Overly caffeinated and nauseatingly syrupy sweet. Just like its drinker. Yen... Ooo, elipses! Look at you. Yen. Ok, ok, hold your horse. While I still stand by my previous statement, he does grow on you. And I won't even say like mold. That's you saying it. Well, aren't we protective? Also, should I assume you will be taking Ciri to Music again next week? You know I have a shift. And...? ... ... I moved it. Ha! Goodbye, Yen.

Despite having moved his shift, Geralt had to move it back, due to a last minute sick day called in by another firefighter. Geralty knew he should have felt lucky Yen's meeting was canceled and Ciri didn't have to miss Music. But somehow, sitting at the fire station waiting for the next call, watching his supposedly prickly brother Lambert practically giggling as he Facetimed with his boyfriend Aiden, just made him feel defeated and deflated.

"Is this about missing Music today?" Eskel asked, gesturing to Geralt's face as he sat down next to him. "You look grumpier than usual."

"Thanks," Geralt growled, but Eskel just shook his head, patting him on the shoulder. "You talked to Yen."

"It wouldn't be hard to figure out you're in a bad mood," Eskel started, but raised his hands in front of him as Geralt growled again. "And yes, Yen may have mentioned something."

"Nothing to mention," Geralt said stiffly, and Lambert let out a loud laugh.

"From what I hear, some bastard's got a crush," Lambert guffawed loudly. "The fact that you look like a blushing bride right now kinda takes away from that glare, Geralt!"

Geralt leapt to his feet, fists clenched, Eskel already rising to spring in between the two brothers, but then a soft and lovingly exasperated "Lamb..." came from the iPad screen Lambert was holding.

"Alright, Kitten, alright," Lambert grumbled, but the words came out gentle and the eye roll was a teasing one.

"You call your boyfriend Kitten," Geralt pointed out, arms crossed across his chest, cheeks still flushed red.

"And it gets me laid," Lambert proclaimed loud and proud, grinning as he waggled his eyebrows, and then Aiden's tone of voice became one Geralt did not want to be privy too, thank you very much. Tossing Lambert a pair of headphones, very proud of his aim as they smacked Lambert directly in the face, Geralt headed down the stairs.

Which was where he found Jaskier, pacing back and forth in front of the station entrance, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. Choosing not to call out, in case Eskel and Lambert (especially Lambert) heard him, Geralt moved closer before speaking.

"Jaskier?" Geralt stepped into Jaskier's incoming path as he spoke, causing Jaskier to jump a little in surprise, but somehow masterfully not spill a drop of coffee.

"Oh, hey, Geralt, you're here, Yen said you would be, but then she just said good luck and started laughing, so I wasn't sure what that meant-" Jaskier's lightening-fast stream of consciousness abruptly cut off when Geralt lay a hand on his arm.

"Did Yen tell you about the extra shift?" Geralt asked softly, as if afraid he would spook Jaskier away if he talked too loudly.

"She did, but I thought, well I wasn't sure if maybe she was just being nice," Jaskier shrugged, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Yen's never just nice," Geralt assured him, and when Jaskier let out a genuine laugh this time, Geralt found himself smiling along with him. "I really had switched shifts to take Ciri to Music, but I had to take the shift back when Aubrey got hit with the flu."

"I think that's the most words you've ever said to me," Jaskier teased, winking as Geralt rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Movement behind Geralt, another fire fighter wiping down the nearest truck, drew Jaskier's eyes to the interior of the fire station, a fact Geralt couldn't help but notice.

"I'd invite you in, but my brothers-" Geralt gestured in Eskel and Lambert's general direction.

"No, no, I get it, of course," Jaskier nodded, and Geralt found that he somehow instinctively knew the smile Jaskier offered up wasn't the usual joyful one he typically received. "I should head back anyway, I guess. Lunch break and all. Just wanted to say thank you for the coffee with some coffee." Perching the cup on the nearest flat surface, which just happened to be an upside down bucket left over from mopping, Jaskier turned to go.

And then Geralt reached a hand out, lightly grabbing Jaskier's wrist. "No, I mean-my brothers are assholes. Eskel's alright, it's Lambert mostly. And sometimes Eskel. Don't want to subject you to them."

"I was rather worried it was the other way around," Jaskier admited softly, eyes not quite meeting Geralt's. "That you didn't want to subject them to..." Trailing off, he shrugged, fingers pulling at a loose thread from his sleeve.

"No, it's, it's definitely not.The other way around. It's them, definitely them." Geralt insisted, giving a reassuring squeeze with the fingers still wrapped around Jaskier's wrist, before quickly pulling back, filling his hands with the coffee from Jaskier. "Thanks for the coffee, it's definitely needed."

"Rough morning?" Jaskier asked sympathetically, and Geralt nodded, walking over to the bench outside the station entrance, gesturing with his head for Jaskier to join him. Lowering himself onto the bench, Geralt pulled his hair tie out with his free hand, fidgeting with the tight band as he tried to sweep the escaped strands back into place.

"Can I?" Jaskier asked softly, reaching out his hand. For a moment, Geralt froze, one hand tangled in his hair, the other hand stretching the rubber band to the almost-point of breaking. Then he nodded, just a slight movement as he lay the hair tie in Jaskier's outstretched palm, and shifted so his back was to Jaskier.

Jaskier's fingers were gentle and warm as they gathered up Geralt's hair, and Geralt immediately flashed to those same fingers brushing guitar strings, bringing together sounds into a cascade of notes, and oh. Geralt really liked those hands, the calloused fingertips and the dry knuckles and the delicate palms, especially when they were running through his hair like it was silk.

Yeah, okay, that was unexpected, Geralt silently admitted to himself, skittishly running his fingernails over the palm of his left hand. Definitely not something to ever say out loud. Too many words, sounds like a song Jaskier might sing. Beautiful, but not meant for Geralt.

"There," Jaskier said softly, dropping his hands to his lap, Geralt's hair now tucked into a neat and tight ponytail, not a strand out of place. Turning to face him again, Geralt couldn't help but run a finger against the bottom of the ponytail, where Jaskier's fingers had been just seconds ago.

"Thank you," Geralt said just as softly, finding his eyes still drawn to Jaskier's fingers, which were now extracting a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

"I have a show Thursday afternoon," Jaskier said, fumbling the paper open and passing it to Geralt, who took it, studying it carefully. "It's at a coffee shop, so it's kid friendly, Ciri could come with you, which would be great. I'll be playing a few songs, some covers, some originals. It won't be too long."

"I'll be there," Geralt promised, running his finger over the date typed on the paper. "Aubry owes me after covering for him today. And Ciri would never forgive me if I went without her."

"I'll have a hot chocolate with marshmellows waiting for her," Jaskier said with a grin, tapping his fingers lightly on his knee as Geralt studied the paper as if committing it to memory. "You can keep that, help you remember."

"I wouldn't forget," Geralt assured him, carefully refolding the paper and placing it in his pocket.

"Unfortunately, I do have to get back to the library," Jaskier said, a wistful undertone to his words that Geralt couldn't help but smile at. "I mean, I love the library, I just have been really enjoying my time here with you."

"Same," Geralt agreed. "I mean, this time. With you. The library's great too." Sighing deeply, he rubbed his hands over his face. "Just gonna stop now."

"Hey," Jaskier said softly, nudging Geralt gently in the side, smiling when Geralt raised his gaze. "I get it. You're better with words than you give yourself credit for." Taking a deep breath, Jaskier leaned in, lightly brushing his lips against Geralt's cheek. "And sweeter than you give yourself credit for too."

His own cheeks flushed in delight, Jaskier stumbled backwards as he attempted to make his exit. "I'll see you Thursday then."

"Thursday," Geralt echoed, unable to stop himself from bringing his fingers to his pink-tinged cheek, hovering right over the spot where Jaskier's lips had been just a moment before.

********* yen: I'll bring Ciri to the cafe. geralt: Thanks Yen, really appreciate it. I'm staying to hear Mr. Perky Pants perform. Yen, no. Yen, yes. I'll  behave. He invited me, actually. The Sparkly Singer and I have become quite good friends, Geralt. Plus, Triss wants to meet him. Yen... Also, your brothers are coming. And Aiden of course. He and Lambert are attached at the lips, and the dicks. YEN, NO. They saw the flier hung up in your locker. When they broke into your locker. When Lambert broke into your locker, really. Look, I'll threaten them, you'll threaten them, Ciri will threaten them, it'll be fine. ... Yen...please. I won't let them fuck this up for you, Geralt, I promise. You know I've got your back. I do. Thank you. I'll buy you your drink on Thursday. Oh you'll buy me more than one. ... But you're welcome.

*******

Geralt had arrived early, in hopes of having a few moments by himself to collect his thoughts and try to wrestle his feelings into something at least resembling a facade of control. But of course, Ciri must have insisted on being early too, to eliminate any possibility of being late, and Geralt found himself with an armful of rainbow tutu, mermaid leggings, and sequined narwhal shirt before he reached the cafe's front door.

"Papa, you got fancy too!" Ciri exclaimed excitedly, pinching Geralt's cheeks between her small hands. "No pricklies!"

"You did shave, Geralt," Yen's grin hovered somewhere between mischevious and diabolical in a way that Geralt could never deny made him pretty damn nervous. "Hair brushed quite nicely, dark jeans with no holes, and I do believe that is a new t-shirt." Circling around him, Yen dramatically sniffed his neck, Geralt playing at batting her away, making Ciri giggle. "You smell very nice. New cologne?"

"I didn't want to smell like smoke," Geralt grumbled.

"I think you look the most nice," Ciri said earnestly, patting the top of his head before squirming down to the ground. "Now inside! I want to see Mr. Jaskier!"

Geralt chuckled, holding the door open for Yen and Ciri before entering behind them. "It's my name on a card!" Ciri squealed excitedly, running towards the table right at the front nearest the small stage.

"And your uncles!" Aiden exclaimed, pouting dramatically with his arms flung wide, Lambert affectionately rolling his eyes. Ciri giggled and threw herself at Aiden, moving from him to Lambert to Eskel, giving each a huge hug. Triss arrived soon after, kissing Yen before scooping Ciri into a hug.

"You're all here even earlier," Geralt grumbled, and Lambert guffawed, slapping Eskel on the back hard enough that anyone less solidly built would have gone toppling from their chair. As it was, Eskel merely rolled his eyes.

"Someone was concerned traffic could be a problem" Lambert said as he nudged Eskel with his elbow. Geralt took a seat in the chair closest to the stage, Ciri clammering into his lap. It wasn't lost on Geralt that this had been the chair his family had left for him.

"Behave," Geralt growled, actively choosing to focus on the stage and not his family. Mugs were suddenly placed in front of him, Ciri, and Yen. Ciri immediately dove into her hot chocolate piled high with marshmellows with an excited squeal, while Yen appreciatively took a sip of her black coffee with one cream. And just like when he had brought coffee to the fire station, Jaskier had gotten Geralt's perfectly right-dark roast with a drizzle of hazelnut syrup.

After about twenty minutes of sipping and banter, "Hello there, beautiful people," came suddenly from the stage. And there Jaskier was, in a purple velvet jacket and tight jeans, strumming a guitar as he perched on a stool.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight," Jaskier said with a grin, his eyes alighting briefly on Geralt before moving to Ciri. "I'm going to open with a cover I promised to my dear friend Ciri," he said, and Ciri squealed in excitement as Jaskier strummed the opening chords of "You Need to Calm Down".

Geralt smiled at Ciri's pure glee, before turning his attention back to Jaskier. And that's where his focus stayed for the rest of the night. Jaskier was good, really good. He mostly played covers, but towards the end introduced some of his original music.

"Alright, this is the last song of the night, beautiful people," Jaskier announced, to the groans of the crowd. Geralt found himself genuinally disappointed, but couldn't help but smile at Ciri's highly dramatic "Oh no!" that made Jaskier chuckle. Just as quickly though, Jaskier grew serious again.

"This is a new song that I just wrote this past week," Jaskier said softly, and he looked up, holding Geralt's gaze for a moment before his eyes closed and he began to strum his guitar and sing.

I've got a love that comes in colors. I got a voice, comes in screaming. My old clothes they don't fit me now-ow-ow. When I was young, I took off running. I had a head full of tangles. I had my heart full of splinters oh-oh-oh. And you came around - to save me. Now I drop to hold you To hold you, to hold you oh-oh-oh

"He wrote this in the last week..." Yen said into Geralt's ear, but Geralt couldn't register any words that weren't Jaskier's.

I had a thief, who stole my money Took my heart, took it so quick And left a hole as big as Texas oh-oh-oh-oh-oh And now I can hear the sweet swell of music Feel the soft beat, beat push to the surface Living life out loud, no one to blame it on-on-on Yeah you came around - to save me

Now I drop to hold you To hold you, to hold you oh-oh-oh

"Yen's actually right, you know," Eskel added, quickly followed by an "Oof!" as Yen smacked him in the arm.

The satellite beams me closer, Keeps me steady The satellite beams me closer, Oh and I won't let you down

Now I drop to hold you To hold you, to hold you oh-oh-oh yeah love I drop to hold you To hold you

Strumming the last chord, Jaskier finally opened his eyes, and once again, his gaze met and held Geralt's. Jaskier's cheeks were tinted pink, but he was smiling bright. The swell of applause had him off his stool and standing, bowing to the crowd. "Thanks everyone, I'll be here next week, same time, same channel!"

Jaskier carefully placed his guitar in its case before hopping off the stage. "Mr. Jaskier!" Ciri screamed, running up and throwing her arms around his waist. He quickly knelt to hug her. "You were so so so so good! Thanks for singing Taylor Swift!"

"Of course Ciri, I would never say no to such a good friend," Jaskier assured her solemnly.

"I hate to say this, but he's sweet," Yen mumbled, out of Jaskier's hearing. "Sickeningly sweet, but still, Ciri's really happy."

"Yen, that sounds nice," Geralt shot back at her, and she raised her finger, pointing at his face.

"You deserve sweet," Yen said, "and you're doing whatever your pensive version of a smile is, so go say hi." She hip checked him, sending him practically careening into Jaskier, who was standing up. Only Geralt's hands on Jaskier's waist kept them both from tumbling to the ground.

"You were good," Geralt mumbled, and Jaskier beamed.

"From what I've been given to understand, that is the highest of compliments from you," Jaskier said happily, as Geralt stumbled backwards, hands returning to his own body. "Oh no dear, no need to move because of me." He winked at Geralt, who couldn't help but smile back, shaking his head. "Would you..." Jaskier trailed off, taking in the crowd around them.

"Ciri, say goodbye to Mr. Jaskier and your papa, your papa needs some help finding a book," Yen said abruptly, grinning wickedly at an exasperated Geralt as Ciri hugged Jaskier and Geralt goodbye. "Jaskier, your music did not make me wish to claw my own ears off, congratulations."

"Yen, may your black, black heart continue to  beat forevermore," Jaskier called back, blowing her a kiss.

"Lambert, if you walk out the door with me right now, when we get home we can-" Aiden whispered the rest of the sentence in Lambert's ear too softly for anyone else to overhear, but Geralt could pretty much guess the gist of the promise from the heat spreading up Lambert's face and the way he absolutely bolted to the front door.

"Hey, Jaskier!" Lambert called back, and Jaskier turned to face him. "You're pretty fucking good. Really liked that Goo Goo Dolls cover."

"Huh," Jaskier answered, nodding his head at Lambert. "Not at all what I would have predicted, but appreciated. Thanks."

"Goodnight, Jaskier, Geralt," Eskel said, and then it was just Geralt and Jaskier.

"Would you like to get a drink, was what I was going to say," Jaskier said quickly. "Except I just realized this place is closing for the night, so we could go to a bar or-" He ran his hands through his hair, then reached back and grabbed his guitar case, holding it close to his chest. "Or I live just a few blocks away, if you would want to get a drink there. Or get a drink at all."

Taking a deep breath, Geralt nodded, still holding his empty coffee cup, knuckles white where he gripped the porcelain. "Yes."

"The mug isn't a threat," Jaskier laughed gently, reaching out to pry it from Geralt's hands. "And I'm so glad to hear you say that. I've been wanting to ask you for so long, but you are a hard man to read, Geralt."

"You're not the first person to say that," Geralt admitted softly, staring down at the ground. He felt Jaskier's finger lightly tap him on the chin, encouraging his gaze upwards again.

"We balance each other out then, because I wear my emotions on my sleeves," Jaskier assured him. "I had hoped I had been obvious enough with my intentions, but clearly I had not. I was concerned perhaps you simply weren't interested."

"I didn't understand," Geralt admitted.

"But you do now?" Jaskier asked hopefully.

"I do now," Geralt assured him. "Let's walk to your place."

"Let's then." Jaskier smiled, lacing his arm through Geralt's and leading him towards the door.

******* "So this is my place," Jaskier said, gesturing around at the small apartment. "I actually cleaned just in case you decided to join me tonight."

"This is clean?" Geralt asked, letting out a laugh at the affronted look Jaskier immediately turns on him. "I'm kidding."

"Oh, you kid now, huh?" Jaskier bantered back, rolling his eyes good naturedly. "We have a sense of humor now that we're so sure we're getting some."

"Wasn't so sure I was," Geralt said softly, shrugging when he saw the way Jaskier looked at him.

"We have got to work on this," Jaskier said firmly, reaching a hand up to cup Geralt's cheek. "You are a gorgeous, sweet, silly man who I would love to do lots of naughty things with. Try seeing yourself like I do, darling."

"I'll try," Geralt offered up, and Jaskier nodded, a determined look in his eyes.

"Why don't you let me show you, then, hmm?" Twining his arms around Geralt's neck, Jaskier pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, and sweet, and as Jaskier's hands slid under his shirt Geralt realized they felt exactly as he had imagined on the bench that day.

"Stay?" Jaskier asked softly, and Geralt nodded, deepening the kiss.

**** "What are you doing here, darling?" Jaskier asked with a wide smile, standing up from his colorfully decorated desk. "I thought Yennifer had Ciri today."

"She does," Geralt agreed, "but you forgot your thermos at home. I know what you're like uncaffeninated, didn't want to do that to the children." He leaned down for a kiss before presenting Jaskier with an iced coffee saturated in butterscotch and whipped cream. "Now go put that in the break room before you get in trouble."

"I shall indeed," Jaskier said, standing up. "Oh, can you tell Lambert that book he wanted on raising cats came in? I'm sure Aiden will find it hilarious." Laughing, Jaskier leaned in for another kiss. "See you for dinner?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Geralt promised. "Never."

[jaskiersvalley]

Hiiiii I'm not very good with prompts but I wanted to send you one to congratulate you on all your milestones on AO3! How fantastic and how well earned! For the prompt, maybe some Eskel/Lambert/Cahir friends to lovers? That OH moment of realization? Any verse is fine, you come up with the most lovely scenarios!

Bready! My partner in crimes and best of enablers. This prompt sings to my heart so much! Thank you for sending such a wonderful prompt to help celebrate 1,000,000 words posted to AO3!

Love was nothing like the films depicted. There was no dramatic music, no red hearts or special lighting. Eskel already knew that with Cahir, the two of them had met at the post office of all places. Eskel had been hoping to send a parcel for Ciri’s birthday and Cahir had been in front of him in the line. He had a whole stack of letters to send by the looks of it, only to fumble them and drop them with a soft exclamation of annoyance. Naturally, Eskel moved to help, only to freeze when he spotted the name and address on the envelope.

“You know her too?” He asked and put the letter next to his parcel to show the matching names.

Cahir stared, looking a little panicked. “How do you know her?”

“Uncle, kind of. Geralt and I grew up together. You?”

After a moment, Cahir didn’t relax but he looked less ready to run or fight. “I was her social worker through the adoption process. We kept in touch.”

Eskel looked at all the letters Cahir was posting and wondered just how many of them were to families that he’d helped and then stayed in touch with. It made Eskel wonder just how big Cahir’s heart was.

Pretty big, as it turned out. And Eskel slowly slipped into love. It was the small things really, the way Cahir would without hesitation shove Eskel out of the way to pay for a date. The way Cahir would happily tuck strands of hair out of Eskel’s face to kiss him but would get flustered if Eskel returned the gesture. Not to mention the sweet, shy way Cahir would ask about trying something new in the bedroom but once they were in the moment he would absolutely lose himself to their pleasure. It was nice. More than nice but Eskel wasn’t the kind to have many words to describe things. All he cared about was that he and Cahir made each other happy.

Even better, Cahir got along with Lambert like a house on fire. They bitched and griped, even arm wrestled for the honour of sitting next to Eskel one evening when they went out. Somehow, it never felt like Lambert was a third wheel on their nights out. It made Eskel love Cahir that little bit more that he didn’t get jealous of the close friendship Eskel had with Lambert. In fact, he seemed to encourage it.

It was Lambert’s turn to get drinks and Eskel watched him leaning against the bar, hips stuck out to one side. He had to wonder why Lambert was still single, he looked good, was a genuinely great man and had a wicked sense of humour. Anyone would be lucky to call him theirs.

“You love him, don’t you?” Cahir asked. He was sitting next to Eskel for a change rather than opposite and playing footsie.

Flustered, Eskel looked to his boyfriend. It was such a non-sequitur question and so out of the blue, he needed a moment to parse it. The time it took only made Cahir press on.

“It’s okay, if you can love both of us, and he can love both of us, I can love both of you.”

Rather intelligently, Eskel blinked. “You what now?”

“The way you look at him, it’s obvious. You look at me like that too.”

There was so much patience in Cahir’s voice, it made Eskel feel a little stupid and foolish. That was rapidly overtaken by the most astounding realisation; he loved Lambert. Which was followed up by a wave of terror because oh shit he loved Lambert.

Taking a leaf from Geralt’s book, Eskel said the most obvious thing, “Fuck.”

At least it made Cahir chuckle and he leaned into Eskel’s shoulder. “You really had no clue, did you?” When Eskel shook his head, he continued, “I thought I was just a time filler while you and Lambert sorted all your shit out. But it stretched for months, now it’s been three years. I had to say something.”

Both of them watched as Lambert picked up the three pint glasses with ease, weaving his way between tables and back towards them. He set them down and looked at the other two.

“What? Did I miss a phone call from Vesemir to say he was finally marrying Guxart?” He snorted. “There’s more chance of him talking about alien abductions than that. So go on, what did I miss?”

“I love you,” Eskel blurted out. He’d never had secrets from Lambert so he had no filter.

It drew a bright laugh as Lambert threw his head back. “I knew that already. But seriously, what did I miss.”

“I love you,” Eskel repeated and watched as Lambert’s bravado slipped for a moment and hurt flashed through his eyes.

“Let’s not do this, Esk,” he pleaded. “You’ve got Cahir. He’s the only one you need to love.”

Which made things a thousand times worse because Eskel was suddenly seeing everything he had missed. The time spent together, the desperate way Lambert welcomed Cahir into his life because if he couldn’t make Eskel happy, he could very well befriend the one who did. Truly, Eskel had been an idiot.

Standing up, Cahir gestured to the spot he had vacated. “Sit.”

Swallowing thickly, Lambert sat down next to Eskel and then squawked when he was pushed closer as Cahir settled down, squeezing them all into one side of the booth.

“So,” Cahir said, voice all business. “Here’s the situation. Eskel’s just realised he loves you. But he loves me too. And I love him. The question is, where do you stand with us? You love Eskel, right?”

Mute, Lambert nodded, staring at the table in front of him.

“Excellent. Question then is, do we stay friends and paramours? Or do you want to try something more?”

Finally Lambert snapped out of whatever daze he’d sunk into, whipping his head to look between Eskel and Cahir who were looking at him expectantly.

“Kiss Eskel,” Cahir suggested, “and have a think about what you want.”

Hesitantly, Lambert looked to Eskel, shy and blushing all of a sudden. Their first kiss was dry, scared and tentative. It was quickly followed up by a second after wetting their lips and pressing together more enthusiastically. When they broke apart, Eskel turned Lambert’s head with fingers on his chin, helping him face Cahir. There was a moment of looking at each other before Lambert was leaning in and kissing Cahir too, mind made up. He already loved them both, even if he’d never dared to say it. Now that nothing was holding him back, he would tell them as often and as loudly as he could. Lambert was in love and, even better, it was returned by both Eskel and Cahir.

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze pt.1/25

Geralt swore as he knocked into his bedside table, hopping from one foot to the other as he tried to pull on his socks. He’d have a nasty bruise on his shin by that evening but he’d had worse, a lot worse. Across his chest was a web of puckered scar tissue that he’d had ever since he was a child. He growled under his breath and pulled his shirt on hurriedly.

“Geralt!!” Ciri shouted from downstairs. “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

He glanced at the clock and swore again. She was right. It had taken so long to get her dressed and sat down eating breakfast that he’d lost track of time. He pulled half his hair back into a black hair tie and stared back at his reflection in the mirror. He looked passable.

“Coming, Princess.” He called back to his young ward.

He’d known Ciri since she was born, and he’d known her parents well before the accident. Pavetta and Duny had been two of the kindest people he’d had the pleasure to have known and he’d been honoured when they’d asked him to become Ciri’s Godfather. Of course, at the time, he’d only ever expected his duties to be a sort of uncle figure in her life. No one could have predicted they would have been taken from the Earth so soon. Ciri had spent the next few years with her Grandmother, during which time Geralt had barely seen his Goddaughter. He and Calanthe had never really seen eye to eye and the elder woman had decided Geralt was a bad influence on her granddaughter’s life.

Still, Geralt had been sad when he’d received the call at the beginning of summer that the woman and her husband Eist had passed away and Ciri would become his ward. Calanthe had been a fierce woman and Geralt found he had a lot of respect for her, despite their differences.

And now he was raising a child as a single father.

It wasn’t where he’d seen his life going but Ciri had brightened up his lonely existence considerably and he would not change having her in his life for the world. He’d not realised just how lonely he was before Ciri had moved in with him. His life had just been work, sleep, eat repeat. He worked hard to afford his house and then never actually spent any time there because he was always working or at the pub with Lambert, Eskel and Renfri. Since Ciri, he’d realised it was alright to spend time staying still at home.

He shook his head and made his way down the stairs. It was Ciri’s first day at school and then he’d have to make his way to the station for the start of his shift. Vesemir had been very understanding and now allowed Geralt to work his shifts around his young ward. He now started after the school run, and he would only do on-call or evenings if Yen or one of the wolf pack was around to babysit over night.

“Geralt!” Ciri called again and ran out of the kitchen. She had her shoes on but the laces were flying and Geralt only just reached the bottom of the stairs in time to catch her as she tripped. Her hair flew out behind her in a cloud of ashen blonde and he was hit by the scent of her floral shampoo. He chuckled. Lilacs. Just like Yen. Ciri had probably chosen her shampoo to mimic Yennefer’s after his ex had spent the week with them over the summer.

“Got ya!” He chuckled as he pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly, she always did, and he stroked his fingers through her long ashen hair. “Be careful, Princess.” He dropped her down on the bottom step and tied her laces, explaining what he was doing as he looped the laces round. She watched carefully, sticking her tongue out in concentration. “You can have a go tomorrow.”

“Let’s go!” She whined and pulled him by the hand towards the door.

“Wait.” He ruffled her hair and gestured towards his own boots, sitting down to pull them on.

“Hmmph.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted at him. “We’re gonna be late on my first day! Everyone is gonna laugh at me.”

Geralt’s eyes snapped up from where he was tying his own shoelaces at the sudden vulnerability in the young girl’s voice. He frowned and tilted his head as he tried to search for the answers in her bright green eyes.

“Why?” He huffed when he found no answer.

Ciri shifted awkwardly and scraped her feet on the floor. “They did at my old school.”

Geralt tensed and he felt a bubble of rage in his chest as he finished off his laces. “Why?”

But Ciri couldn’t find the words. Her eyes filled with tears and she spun round to avoid his gaze. He stood up and pulled the young girl into another hug and kissed her hair. “They won’t laugh, little Lion Cub, and you must tell me or your teacher if they do. Promise?”

Ciri nodded against his chest and then wiped the tears away. The next minute it was as if the whole moment had never happened and she plastered a smile on her face and pulled Geralt determinedly towards the door. He grabbed his keys off their hook and let himself be pulled towards his old truck.

“Come on!” She trilled and he let himself smile at her newfound excitement.

He made a note to check in with Yen to see if she knew whether Ciri had had any problems at her old school. After the death of both her parents and her grandparents, Ciri was bound to have been the odd one out and Geralt knew from experience how cruel kids could be when you were the odd one out.

The drive went without any further incident. Ciri was happily chatting away about all the new things she couldn’t wait to learn, wondering what her new friends would be like, and her new teachers. Geralt had received an email from the school administrator a few weeks before. Ciri was going to be in Mr Pankratz’s class, otherwise known as Buttercups. All the tutor groups in Ciri’s school were named after flowers. Yen’s tutor group had been called Lilacs before she’d quit teaching a few years ago to focus on her career as an art critic. She’d enjoyed spending time with the children but had found that teaching didn’t suit her and her online art blog had been growing in numbers almost everyday. She’d begun to make a name for herself over the last few years and had been jet-setting all over the world after receiving invitations to all the most prodigious galas and gallery openings.

It had been one of the reasons they’d grown apart. Geralt hadn’t enjoyed the glitz and glamour of Yen’s new life, and she hadn’t been content to stay in the small town for the rest of her life. The spark that had kept bringing them back together after every fight had fizzled out and they’d realised that deep down their relationship had never really meant to last. They were both too headstrong, too stubborn. Still, she knew him better than he knew himself and they stayed in contact. He didn’t have many friends outside of his work life and he didn’t want to lose Yen. He still loved her and she was his best friend. Life without Yennefer Vengerberg would be very dull indeed.

It had been Yennefer who had managed to use her connections with the school to get Ciri a place last minute once she’d moved in with him over the summer. Yennefer was still friendly with the staff and regularly met up with a handful of them when she was in town. Geralt pulled up and parked the car. He helped Ciri pull her rucksack onto her shoulders and held her hand as they headed towards the reception.

A pretty young woman was manning the desk. She had curly dark caramel coloured hair and dark chocolate eyes. Her skin was tanned and her cheeks were painted with a flurry of freckles. He frowned. She seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn’t recall ever meeting her and he was usually pretty good with faces. She smiled brightly when she saw them approach and stood up to shake his hand.

“Mr Rivia?” She asked.

“Hmm.” He nodded. “Call me Geralt.” He added.

“Excellent. I’m Ms Merigold.” She smiled as she released his hand.

Merigold.

That was Yennefer’s best friend’s name. Triss Merigold. They’d never managed to meet up whilst he’d been dating Yennefer, and Geralt had started to suspect that Yen had purposely never introduced them. Maybe she’d been jealous. More likely she’d realised their relationship was never meant to last and there was no point in involving her friends. Geralt had been optimistic and Yennefer had been introduced to all the most important people in his life. He felt a pang of sadness to know she’d never allowed him the same courtesy.

She ticked off Ciri’s name on the clipboard in front of her. Geralt grimaced when he noticed hers was the last name. This single parenting lark was going to be a lot harder than he expected. “Don’t worry. There’s still time.” She turned to Ciri. “And you must be Cirilla?”

Ciri made face and scrunched up her nose at her full name.

“She prefers Ciri.” Geralt explained.

“I’m sorry Ciri. I didn’t know. We’ll make sure all the teacher’s know before you have any classes with them.” Ms Merigold smiled down at his ward. Ciri scowled whilst she considered the other woman’s apology and then her face broke into a bright smile. “You’ll just need to let Mr Pankratz know.”

“Thank you, Ms Merigold!” She beamed.

“Follow me. I’ll show you to Mr Pankratz’s class. You too, Geralt. Jaskier, Mr Pankratz, likes to meet all the parent’s on the first day.” Ms Merigold walked around to their side of the desk and started to make her way through the corridors, pointing out important locations to Ciri on the way, the toilets, the school assembly hall, the dining room.

Ms Merigold stopped in front of a bright yellow door that was covered in kid’s drawings of buttercups. The name ‘Jaskier’ was scrawled out in elegant calligraphy under the thin window pane.

“Here we go. Once you’re done, Mr Rivia, Geralt, if you could drop back to reception and we’ll finish up the paperwork.” Ms Merigold gave Ciri a small wave and wandered back down the corridor.

Geralt took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The music that was floating through the door, halted and Geralt heard a voice through the buttercup covered door.

“Come in!”

Geralt scowled at the cheery tone and pushed the door open. In the middle of the room, surrounding by tiny children, was a sunny looking brunet cradling a guitar in his arms. His face broke into a grin when he saw them. Geralt felt like he’d been punched in the gut as Jaskier’s brilliant blue eyes met his. He’d never seen eyes that blue before. They seemed to shine and glitter in the bright lights of the classroom. He was… radiant.

Geralt tore his gaze away from the teacher and looked around the room. He knew he had a habit of staring too much and with his larger frame he had a tendency to be intimidating. He didn’t want to terrorise Ciri’s new teacher on her first day. It would only make her school life harder for her. Although, Jaskier’s eyes were so captivating and unique, Geralt could hardly be the first person to gawk at him.

“Ahh Mr Rivia! At last. And you must be…”

“Ciri.” Geralt cut the younger man off. “This is Ciri.”

“Ciri!” Jaskier jumped up excitedly and swung his guitar onto his back and extended his hand to the young girl. “Nice to meet you Ciri, I’m Mr Pankratz but everyone calls me Jaskier.”

Ciri giggled and shook Jaskier’s hand. “That’s a funny name.”

“Princess.” Geralt warned in a low voice.

“No no. It’s fine.” Jaskier just waved it off with a charming smile that made Geralt’s stomach flip. He turned back to the children behind him with a wave of his hand. “Right everyone,” Geralt noticed he was making gestures with his hands as he spoke. It looked like sign language not that Geralt was overly familiar.

“I want you all to think of three things that have made you happy this morning and share them with as many people as possible. It can be as simple as having a yummy breakfast, or a parent picking out your favourite top for you to wear. Go!”

He finished off with a final wave of his hands, his tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the last couple of words. A little boy in a beanie was watching him intently until the very end. He had an adult sitting nearby who smiled appreciatively at Jaskier.

The classroom erupted with noise but Jaskier’s eyes just danced with excitement. He’d probably have a hard time calming the children back down but it gave him a chance to talk to Ciri and Geralt without much disturbance. Jaskier turned back to Ciri with a more serious expression. “Jaskier isn’t my real name Ciri, but I chose it. Just like you chose Ciri, right?”

Ciri’s nose scrunched up as she took in what her teacher was saying and then nodded.

“Just because we chose our names, doesn’t make them any less important. A name is a very personal thing Ciri. We should be openminded, yeah?” Jaskier spoke calmly, fixing his blue gaze on the younger girl.

She blushed a little but nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wonderful.” Jaskier trilled happily. “Now, go join the others. Remember I want three things that put a smile on your face this morning. What’s the first one?”

“Cub!” Ciri replied with a laugh.

“Her stuffed lion.” Geralt explained when he saw the flash of confusion on her teacher’s face. He immediately brightened up at Geralt’s explanation and met Geralt’s eyes with a grateful expression.

“That would make me happy too. You’ll have to bring Cub in one day so we can meet them.” Jaskier’s voice was so sincere and genuine that Geralt almost believed that the young man would like nothing more than to meet Ciri’s stuffed toy lion. “Off you go then.”

Ciri scampered off to meet the rest of the class. Geralt watched after her nervously but Ciri was already better than him at making friends and she’d already introduced herself to two of her peers before Geralt turned back to face her teacher.

“Mr Rivia.”

“Geralt.” He insisted.

“Geralt.” Jaskier nodded. Geralt’s name sounded like molten chocolate coming from Jaskier’s mouth. He turned back to watch Ciri so that the teacher couldn’t see the blush that he was fighting down unsuccessfully. “I just wanted to check with you to see if there’s anything we can do to make Ciri’s school life easier. The other children aren’t aware of her, circumstances, shall we say? If she ever needs time off or you think a therapist at school would help her then we can accommodate that. She’s far too young to have known so much death.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nodded. Jaskier wasn’t wrong. “I’ll have a think. Thank you, Jaskier.”

“So what’s made you happy today, Geralt?” Jaskier asked with a wink.

You.

The word almost escaped his lips and took him off guard.

Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to face the teacher, desperately trying to ignore the smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room, or the way his eyes twinkled as if he knew the most exciting secret.

“Ciri.” He paused. “And the coffee machine.”

Jaskier’s chiming laugh filled the room. “Ah yes the elixir that is coffee. That’s only two things though, come now Geralt even the kids can count to three.”

“Hmm.” Geralt struggled to think. “Ciri was nervous this morning.”

“And that made you happy?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him and put a hand on his hip.

“No, of course not. Let me finish.” Geralt almost growled at him before he remembered that this man wasn’t his friend, he was his daughter’s teacher. “She was nervous, and you made her laugh.”

“So, I made you happy?” Jaskier smirked mirthfully.

“No.” This time Geralt did growl the word. He couldn’t help it, this man was just so infuriating. Of course he was. No one could be that beautiful and not be a pain in the arse. “You made Ciri happy. Ciri being happy made me happy.”

“Ciri’s on your list twice.” Jaskier pointed out.

“Problem?” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

“No. No. No problem.” Jaskier grinned. “Right. I need to get back to the little devils. Triss, Ms Merigold, will set you up with my email address should you need it, she’ll also need your phone number incase there’s a problem here. I’ll look after Ciri, Geralt. I promise.”

Geralt grunted with a nod and turned to leave the room.

“Wait. Geralt.” Jaskier called. “One last thing.”

Geralt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at the brunet.

“If we can’t get hold of you. Is there someone else to contact in emergencies?” Jaskier fiddled with the strap of his guitar.

“Hmm. You could try my work. Vesemir, or Yennefer if she’s in town.”

“Vengerberg?”

“That’s right.”

“You know Yennefer Vengerberg?” Jaskier looked at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded wearily, Jaskier was probably a fan. Yen’s art blog had become something of a sensation after all.

“I met her once. She left before I started here, but she’s become something of a legend amongst the staff. Mr Gynvael speaks very highly of her.” Jaskier explained although the way his gaze drifted awkwardly to the floor made Geralt think there was probably more to that story than Jaskier was letting on.

“Hmm.” Geralt didn’t quite know what to say to that.

Luckily for him one of the children started to cry and Jaskier instantly slipped back into teacher mode, rushing over to where a child had fallen on the floor. “Hey hey. It’s alright. Can you show me what hurts?” Jaskier cooed to the small child.

Geralt smiled at the easy care that Jaskier had with the children. He would be far better at being thrown into single parenthood. Geralt sighed and walked out the classroom. He glanced at his watch and cursed. Vesemir would not be impressed with him. He was much later than he’d anticipated but he could always say it was an exception for the first day.

He pulled out his phone and hit his second speed dial.

Vesemir picked up on the second ring “Ah White Wolf. You’d better have a good explanation.” Vesemir chuckled.

“Ah. Fuck. Yes.” Geralt sighed. “I’m on my way.”

_____________

Geralt ached. His body was tired from running drills with Lambert, Eskel and Renfri all morning. They had also been called out a few times. Nothing major luckily, an unfortunate microwave incident in the local University dorms, a couple of house calls that were easily contained and the hugely stereotypical my cat is stuck in a tree call. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he unlocked the door to his flat. He’d barely stepped across the threshold when a blur of ashen blonde hair came flying at him and he caught Ciri in his arms and spun her around.

“Geralt!” She giggled happily as she flew through the air.

“Hi Princess. How was school?” He asked his ward.

“It was great! Mr Jaskier is the best!” She sang happily. “He was telling us all about words that sound the same, and Dara can’t hear properly so Mr Jaskier is teaching us how to speak with our hands!”

“Yeah?” Geralt smiled fondly down at the young girl as he carried them both to the kitchen where Coën was waiting for them both. Geralt nodded at him in greeting. “What words sound the same?” He prompted wondering how much she would have learnt on her first day.

“Yeah! Like bee and tree!” Ciri nattered away happily.

“Hmm. And you were a good girl for Coën when he picked you up from school?” He asked.

Ciri pouted. “I’m always good!”

Geralt chuckled. “Of course.” He turned to her babysitter. “Thanks Coën. Any problems?”

“None at all. She was an angel.” Coën said with a laugh as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “She’s even been teaching me how to sign the alphabet. Ciri, show Geralt how to sign your name.” Coën asked with a gentle smile. Ciri beamed back and scrunched up her nose and she slowly spelled out her name with her hands.

Geralt made a mental note to look up sign language courses online. If one of Ciri’s friends used sign language then it was only a matter of time before they ended up on a playdate and he wanted to be able to communicate with his ward’s friends and support Ciri in her learning.

“That’s good, Ciri.” He praised a little awkwardly. He’d never been particularly open with his feelings but it was something he was working on for her. He knew children needed praise and encouragement so he was trying his best.

The three of them sat in the kitchen for a few minutes whilst Ciri tried to go through the whole alphabet. She forgot a few of the later letters but Coën had already looked them up on his phone and was able to remind her. Geralt’s respect for the teenager grew. He was the son of one of Vesemir’s former colleagues and Vesemir had recommended him as a babysitter once he heard about Calanthe and Eist’s death.

Once Ciri had reached the end of the alphabet, Coën hugged her goodbye and Geralt shook his hand. “I’ll see you both tomorrow then. Bye Ciri!” He called with a wave before picking up his bag and heading to the front door.

“See ya!” Ciri waved him goodbye and then turned her attention back to Geralt. “Did you know nothing sounds like orange?”

“Hmm. I did. Did Mr Jaskier tell you that?” Geralt asked as he lowered Ciri back to the floor and began to root around in the fridge for his dinner.

“Yup! Purple doesn’t have a word rhyme either.” Ciri grinned.

“Hmm. I never thought about that. Mr Jaskier is a clever man.” Geralt smiled softly at the memory of Jaskier’s bright eyes and kind smile.

“He’s the bestest!” Ciri agreed. “but don’t worry, Dad, you’re still my favourite.”

Geralt’s heart stopped in his chest.

“Dad?” He asked quietly.

“Well obviously.” Ciri said with her hands on her hips.

“Come here.” Geralt said and pulled her into a big hug.

“Oh there’s something from Mr Jaskier on the table for you!” Ciri said as she squirmed in his arms.

“Hmm?” Geralt let his daughter go and saw a yellow envelope on the table.

“He said to make sure you saw it.” Ciri insisted.

Geralt flipped the envelope over. He was sealed shut by a small blob of teal wax. Geralt chuckled at the sight of it. He should have known that Ciri’s teacher would be the extravagant type. He opened the envelope carefully, tracing the elegant letters of his name. He’d never known anyone else with such dramatic writing. He wondered if Jaskier wrote on the whiteboard like that or whether he’d made an effort for the letter. Geralt scowled at that. Why would Jaskier make an effort for him? He shook the thought from his mind. He wasn’t special. Jaskier had probably written a letter like this to all the parents.

The writing inside, however, wasn’t nearly as neat. It wasn’t bad but it was definitely more of a scrawl than calligraphy.

  Hi Geralt!  

     Thank you for coming in to see me on Ciri’s first day. I always prefer to meet the parents sooner rather than later so we can work together to give the kids the best start in life that we can. Normally I would send an email at the end of the week to give all the parents an update on their child’s progress and what we’ve learnt but it’s the first day so that’s all a bit exciting isn’t it?  

     Ciri is an absolute delight! She makes friends very easily and seems to have the whole class wrapped around her little finger. She’s even managed to bring one of the shyer kids, Dara, out of his shell. You should be very proud of her.  

     On a more serious note, Ciri has noticed that her family situation isn’t exactly common. Most of the kids in our class have two parents or live with their mother. We had to have a little chat after lunch. She got a bit upset that she didn’t have a mum and dad but we talked about how family is important, especially the ones we choose. If there’s anything I can do to help please let me know. If there are any topics that are best to avoid etc.  

     Anyhoo! Today we learnt about rhyming words and started work on writing our numbers and alphabet. In the morning we learnt a new song together and started learning sign language! A wonderful skill to have, I think, and this afternoon we had to draw one of the things that made us happy. Ciri should have her drawing done by the end of tomorrow! I expect to see all her drawings pinned to the fridge. No slacking, Geralt.  

     I am absolutely thrilled to be teaching Ciri this year! Here’s to the rest of a brilliant year with the Buttercups!  

     Kindest Regards,  

     Jaskier.  

Geralt didn’t realise he was smiling until Ciri peered up at him with a smirk on her face.

“Dad, do you like Mr Jaskier?” She cackled.

“He’s a good teacher, Princess.” He scowled down at her.

“He’s got pretty eyes.” Ciri hummed thoughtfully.

“Cirilla. Go to bed.” Geralt snapped.

“But Dad!” She whined.

“Don’t forget your teeth.” He grunted.

“Urgh. Fine.” She stormed off upstairs in a huff.

Geralt gently traced the letters of Jaskier’s name at the bottom of the paper. Jaskier was a beautiful man, there was no denying that. It was the first thing Geralt had noticed when he’d walked into Ciri’s classroom. You’d have to blind not to notice that, even Yen would probably agree and Jaskier was decidedly not her usual type, and he was kind. He was good with the kids. He talked too much. That much was evident but he’d already won over Ciri and Geralt had been impressed by how he’d handled the sensitive subject of Ciri’s home life, both that morning and in the letter.

That didn’t mean he liked him though.

It was just well-deserved respect.

He pictured Jaskier’s blinding smile and the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Geralt felt a warmth bubble up in his chest at the thought. He put the letter in his pocket and slumped down into a chair, resting his head on this the table.

“Fuck.”

_______

Next

[pillage-and-lute]

Kaer Morons and My Headcanons for their Hobbies

Geralt loves horses and gwent but his hobby in the wintertime is leather working. He does some lovely decorative work on the strap for Jaskier’s lute and even, subtly, Roach’s tack. He repairs all her tack himself too. Gifts Ciri some beautiful leather armor pieces when she’s about fifteen and she’s heartbroken when she grows out of them. (He makes her more)

Eskel has a surprising talent for recognizing gemstones. Maybe it’s the magic that’s inherent in most precious or even semi-precious stones, but he remembers their name. He likes blacksmithing and can do the basics, but between his skill with gems and a surprising aptitude for gold and silversmithing, Eskel is an excellent jeweller with the patience for very detailed pieces

Lambert has an exquisite eye for color and it translates into artistic talent. He likes clothes and fabrics and, although he isn’t quite patient enough to sew, enjoys sketching outfits. He’s a pretty good painter, too. He dabbles in brewing but is most successful with vodka and mead.

Coen is more patient and steady than his wolf peers, and apart from his sword drill, he enjoys woodworking. His favorite pieces are large, useful items, like sturdy tables, chairs, and chests, but for certain people (mainly Ciri on whom he dotes) will carve more delicate pieces. He varnishes all his own pieces and they decorate much of Kaer Morhen.

Aiden is a baker, to the delight of everyone who stays in the keep. His preferred fare is bread of all sorts, but he branches out into scones, farls, and sometimes sweeter things like honeycakes, when materials are available

Letho likes killing things. This comes with an aptitude for alchemical and chemical work as he develops his own specially curated toxins. Just don’t taste the experiments. The rat poison he developed finally cured the infestation in Kaer Morhen, although he changed the recipe to sub-lethal after a young Ciri begged him to. He has a soft spot for her, and with her urging branched out into other chemisty that has nothing to do with death at all. He and Triss sometimes collaborate on medicinal plants and in return she sewed him a coat to wear in his lab, although he requested she take the sleeves off. (Because buffness)

Vesemir has many hobbies, aquired over a long lifetime. One of them is reading romance novels and correcting the sex scenes in the margins. (Jaskier once spent a happy afternoon cackling over comments such as “under no condition should a phallus be called a ‘bratwurst’” and “if her bosom is that big, why wasn’t she wearing something under her nightgown, her back must ache”). He also keeps bees, whose honey contributes to Aiden’s honeycakes and Lambert’s mead. There are a few goats at Kaer Morhen and, although caring for them is Eskel’s preferred task, their milk is made into chees by Vesemir, who also occasionally knits with their wool

+ Bonus non-witchers

Jaskier says his only true hobby is music and poetry, but also indulges in making soaps and perfumes. Tailoring scents especially for his friends and family brings him great joy, and he delights in seeing his creations used up so he can make more. In his travels with Geralt he often picks up ingredients that are hard to find, such as cloves or dried orange peel, to use in his soaps. He collects natural dyes to create the best color combinations as well, and they often stain his fingertips.

Triss likes sewing and embroidery, and finds it calming, in an odd way. She’s a mostly peaceful person, often mediating conflicts with her friends, so perhaps sometimes she just wants to stab something hundreds of times until she feels better. Whatever the reason, she makes very nice clothing and is happy to consult with Lambert on colors

Yennefer was surprised to find she enjoys spinning and weaving. The creation of yarn and cloth under her fingertips is a power much like magic, and Jaskier, with all his natural items, usually is willing to dye it for her. (so long as he’s allowed to make a few jokes likening her to sleeping beauty’s wicked fairy)

Ciri is most often the recipient of the other’s gifts and talents, a wonderful place to be. It has left her with a skill for interior decorating and home organization. She enjoys cleaning up and moving furniture around to bring a room new life. She’s also taken to rock climbing and rappelling the walls of Kaer Morhen, which gives her two fathers, her two mothers, her grandfather, her four uncles, and the weird sort of uncle who comes around sometimes, heart attacks. (Geralt and Jaskier, Triss and Yennefer, Vesemir, Lambert Eskel Aiden Coen, and Letho).

[pillage-and-lute]

The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 2)

It’s back! Dumb boys in love! Also Grandpa Vesemir gets some feels and Geralt does some math. Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

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Watching Winter at Kaer Morhen melt into early spring was always a beautiful process, but this year brought Geralt trepidation as well. Watching Ciri train had been wonderful, helping her learn the basics kept all the wolves on their toes, for the first time in many years actually thinking about motions that normally came from muscle memory. 

Yennefer had flourished into her role as “Aunty Yen,” not sweetly nurturing, the way one often thought about with children, but a clever tongue and tough love that Ciri, granddaughter of the Lioness, seemed completely at home with. 

Geralt was doing his best too. Ciri had started calling him dad about halfway through the winter, the first time happening at dinner and he’d very nearly choked on his ale. It sent something warm running through his veins every time, like good brandy that burned all the way down. 

He was trying, words still didn’t come naturally, but somehow Ciri always seemed to be able to see exactly what he meant. Maybe it was Destiny, maybe just a hurt, lost child clinging to whoever was consistent in her life, but Geralt hoped it was more. More than anything, he hoped Ciri truly understood how cared for she was, not just by himself, but all the wolves, Jaskier, and Yennefer.

Ciri had whispered to him one day, still panting after training, asking if he thought Yen would mind if she called her mom.

Geralt had replied that he didn’t think Yennefer would mind at all.

Yennefer came to him later, a tender look in her eyes. There was something, not fragile in her eyes, but Jaskier had pointed out in a marketplace once, a beautiful porcelain vase that had been broken and artfully repaired with gold. Yen’s expression reminded him of that. 

They sat for a while, then Yennefer said, “Will you be able to let go of her in the spring?” 

“Yes,” Geralt said, although he was less than sure that parting from Ciri would be so easy. “She needs you, and time away from me. And to be around women.”

Yennefer nodded, gave Geralt a pat on the shoulder, and left. Geralt stayed, cloak wrapped around him as he sat looking out over the walls. 

There was much that would happen in the spring, and his life, which had been pretty stagnant before, was changing more in these past few years than it ever had. He felt like Kaer Morhen itself, built to last and yet crumbling still, the weight of change and time and destiny tearing down walls. 

He watched the sun go down. 

Vesemir joined him, carrying two bowls of stew. Geralt took a bite of his and winced. It had been Eskel’s turn to cook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vesemir’s mustache twitch with a hint of a smile. They ate the oversalted meal in silence.

“You know,” Vesemir said, and in the starlight the crags on his face looked carved in. “I come up here to think too.” 

Geralt knew, but Vesemir wasn’t interested in talking about the battlements, he could tell. 

“I think, most nights, about the ghosts within these walls. All of the little boys who died so that the School of the Wolf could be.” The wind picked up, howling like, with an excellent sense of the dramatic, a wolf. 

“The Trials haunt me, Geralt. More than anything in my life, and it has been a long life indeed.” 

“You saved me,” Geralt said. “Saved Eskel.” But he too remembered the still bodies carried out and buried in the night. How few boys remained. Remembered the screaming in the night, unsure how much of the sound was torn from his own throat, and what came from his brothers dying around him.

“I let them put you through it twice. That wasn’t salvation, lad.” Vesemir sighed. “I couldn’t have put a stop to the Trials, don’t know if I would have if it were possible, there have to be Trials to be witchers, and the world needs us, whatever it may believe. But maybe there was a better way. A kinder way. You were boys, little lads who went through so much pain.”

Geralt was startled to see a tear fall down the craggy face, burying in the moustache. Witchers could cry, but it happened rarely, tears could blur vision in a fight, and only very strong emotion, the sort they had been taught to suppress,  could override the mutations. 

And then Vesemir put an arm around Geralt’s shoulder and gave him an oddly nice hug. It could have cracked a boulder.

“Someone should have held you boys more,” Vesemir said, a touch abashedly. They looked out over the walls some more and Geralt wondered if the conversation was over, but Vesemir didn’t take the arm away.

“Ciri called me Grandpa today.”

Ah. That would explain a lot. Watching Vesemir interact with Ciri over the winter had been a delight and a surprise to the wolves. He’d even sat her on his knee and told her stories of when Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt were young like a, well, like a doting grandfather. Jaskier had been enthralled as well, naturally, but seeing Vesemir so soft, and sometimes looking a little sad, around Ciri, had been an education for the men who would always think of themselves as ‘Vesemir’s Little Lads’.

“She won’t be a witcher,” Vesemir said. “Couldn’t be even if we would want it, and I never would.”

“No,” Geralt said.

No,” agreed Vesemir. They looked out over the darkened landscape.

“I never wanted a family,” Vesemir said after a while where their breaths hung in the air before them. “‘O course, witchers aren’t supposed to, but you’ve built a nice little family for yourself, laddie. It’s not as may be, not like you’d find in villages or in your pet bard’s fancy songs. But you’ve a brave and rather headstrong daughter, and she has a mum, and a dad, and two already very protective uncles.”

“And a grandpa,” Geralt cut in.

“And a grandpa,” Vesemir agreed. “But a family needs a little more than that. There’s gotta be someone to teach the lass how to love.”

Geralt was about to protest that he’d seen plenty of loveless marriages, but then considered the results in the children. Jaskier was one, he knew. The sort of lost way Jaskier sucked up approval, when they’d first met, the way he’d drank up compliments like a man with water in the desert, whenever Geralt thought on it there was a sort of humming ache. He’d consulted with Eskel on the feeling, concerned it was illness. Apparently, it was just what happened when someone you loved was hurting and it wasn’t something you could kill or fix.

“It doesn’t need to be romantic love,” Vesemir said, obviously seeing Geralt’s face. “And she’ll know how to love family fine, and how to love friends, as you and Yennefer figure that out between the two of you. But your bard loves you, and the way you love him can teach her how to love others and herself. And if Ciri has another dad maybe you can worry less.”

Geralt chuckled. Ciri could have fifty parents, and Geralt would still lose sleep worrying. Vesemir smiled back at him, eyes crinkling and moustache lifting like a bristle brush that had learned to fly. Then he slapped Geralt on the back, and Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, the witcher who had twice survived the Trials, felt his spine compress like a spring and he was sure he felt a rib creak.

“Love Jaskier, lad. Hold tight to him. We rarely get good things.”

Then Vesemir walked back inside and Geralt stared after him. There weren’t many old witchers, dangers of the job and all that, but Vesemir was proof that witchers, like oak wood, only solidified with age. 

Geralt followed him inside. 

The next days passed in a flurry of activity. Ciri had been let off of training with the wolves to pack for her journey with Yennefer, and to be quickly given the rundown of the basics of magic. The wolves were packing as well, preparing to leave Kaer Morhen. In between final preparations and weapon repair, Geralt checked over The List.

The List was supposed to help him court Jaskier. It was the combined brainchild of everyone (except Jaskier, of course) at Kaer Morhen. More importantly, his intention to court Jaskier met with Ciri’s approval. 

When the day arrived, Geralt felt a curious lump in his throat. He watched Ciri say goodbye to Eskel and Lambert, the latter picking her up and swinging her in an arc, letting her joyful whoop echo about the courtyard. Then she hugged Vesemir, and he crushed her very gently to him. And then she turned to him and Jaskier. 

He was thankful that Ciri bade Jaskier goodbye first, watching the bard wipe a surupticious tear away as he held the blonde girl. It was Geralt’s turn and he didn’t know what to do. He cleared his throat.

“Follow Yennefer’s instructions,” he said. That didn’t seem like enough. “And don’t talk to strangers,” he said. It still seemed insufficient but he was out of advice so he stuck out his hand to shake. Ciri laughed and leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

He held her there, reveling in hugging his daughter, his child surprise, who was so full of surprises and he felt, for the first time in many years, the feeling of rather full tear ducts. He blinked them away. 

“Good luck,” Ciri whispered in his ear. Jaskier wouldn’t have heard, but the witchers with their enhanced hearing surely had. Geralt nodded and set her down.

He coughed awkwardly and pulled out a little packet wrapped in burlap and some rough twine. Ciri beamed and pulled at the string so that the packaging fell away. A long piece of metal, bent into a thin U shape lay in his palm, the ends were surprisingly sharp. Ciri picked it up and examined it, then looked up at him questioningly. 

“Hair pin,” Geralt said gruffly. “For your hair. And stabbing.” He mimed a clumsy, underhanded stab. “Eskel helped me silver plate it. For monsters. But also men, if they’re close enough.” He trailed off, knowing he sounded awkward. Who gave a self defense implement as a gift?

Ciri beamed at him again. “I love it,” she said, also miming a few stabs. He supposed that as a parent he shouldn’t be so proud of the light in his daughter’s eyes when she talked about stabbing, but he was almost certain that she got that trait from Jaskier, who tended to get...pointed about disagreements in pubs.

Yennefer stepped forward and carefully took the hair pin from their daughter, swooping her silver blonde hair back into a twist and sliding it in place. She placed a hand on Ciri’s shoulder and smiled at Geralt, and he was reminded again of that vase, stronger and more beautiful for the cracks in the facade. She then gave him a quick side hug and and even one for Jaskier, and opened a portal.

Geralt stared after his friend and his daughter long after the portal closed, until Jaskier, hand wrapped in a heavy mitten, gently took his wrist. They waved to the other wolves, and left, Roach walking obediently alongside. 

And then it was just the two of them. Again. Just like the last twenty years. That thought occupied him as they made it down the Killer. The path down from Kaer Morhen was deadly, but that year Geralt made it down without thinking, keeping half a thought to Jaskier’s ambling form as he went.

How old was Jaskier? 

He’d been eighteen or so when they met. Eighteen plus twenty-two was forty. Forty wasn’t that old for a human but Jaskier didn’t look too much different than he had at...Geralt did the math. Twenty-five? But there were signs. A few lines here and there, although Jaskier was insistent about his skincare. A line of silver, just a few hairs, probably unnoticable except to Geralt’s enhanced eyes. He was aging better than a human should.

Or perhaps not. Time was tricky for witchers, never staying in one place, never knowing people long enough to watch them age, he didn’t really know what to compare Jaskier to. 

He did know how long humans lived though. And at the base of the mountain he came to a resolution, felt it settle in to his bones as deep as his mutations, deeper, even. 

Twenty years, or nearly, where he hadn’t known Jaskier. Twenty more where he hadn’t admitted they were friends, or that he loved him. Eighty years in a human life span. And Geralt would love Jaskier, and make sure he knew he was loved, for the next four decades, give or take. He looked at his companion, paused as they were to give their feet and Roach a rest. The weak, watery sun of the early spring day fell on Jaskier’s face, dappled through the branches, which as of yet held no buds.

He pictured lines appearing, laugh lines, smile lines, crinkles carving themselves into the landscape of the familiar features. He pictured silver through the hair, more, in thicker streaks at the temples. Geralt saw a lifetime, Jaskier’s lifetime, in an instant. Silver covered warm brown, strong legs grew shakey, lines crowned a forehead and swept about clear eyes. 

What would happen, Geralt thought, when Jaskier could no longer keep up? But Geralt knew what would happen. He’d take Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, or go with him to Oxenfurt, and spend his days with him. It had been a few short months since he’d realized he was in love with Jaskier, but that was only because Geralt’s skill with emotions was roughly similar to Jaskier’s apparent self preservation. Why had he let the lad talk to him in a pub? Had he loved him then? He remembered the shock of not being feared, of looking into clear, bright eyes and seeing admiration, the fierce protectiveness that had flared when he woke and saw the fool tied to him in an elven lair. Had it been love? 

Watching Jaskier whisper softly to Roach as snow melted around him, Geralt was sure it had been. Destiny, Fate, the two bit tart who kept fucking him over, had given him his greatest blessing in a form that Geralt, up until that very second had considered a myth. Love at first sight. Love had brought him Jaskier, and Ciri, and a fast friendship with the most powerful mage on the Continent. Love had brought him a family in the form of a wayward bard with bread in his pants. And Geralt had forty more years to cherish him. 

Step One the list had said in Eskel’s clear writing. Kiss his hand. Being mindful of Step Two, to mind his manners, Geralt crossed the clearing to Jaskier and took the thick woolen mitten in his gloved hand. 

“May I?” he said. Jaskier gave him a baffled look, but nodded.

Geralt pressed chapped lips to a palm wrapped in knitted wool, and Jaskier smiled, albeit a little confusedly. It didn’t matter. Geralt wanted to spend the next forty years wrapped in that smile. 

Then Jaskier asked him if he was feeling well.