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the-doctor-3000 · 1 year ago

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

1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (pt. 1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She saw none.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Manhattan, New York."

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

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

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

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

"Near Lower Posada, Dol Blathanna."

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

"Do I look like someone who is joking?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm."

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

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

"Geralt of Rivia."

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

At least she got a reaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dandilion beamed with joy.

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

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

This fanfiction will be also published on quotev.

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 1 month ago

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 68

Chapter 67

Masterlist

I had a bit of a writer's block for a while, but I'm back with a new chapter, and I have a couple more chapters I'm working on that should get posted soon.

------Flashback: Woods outside Winterfell 16 years ago----------------

The crunching sounds of footsteps on fresh snow was heard as a young boy ran past the trees. Young Cregan Stark was on the trail for a rare white stag that was spotted in the woods not too long ago...or so the boy had believed.

In reality, the boy's father had gathered a group of men to explore the woods for this stag upon receiving news that the beast has been sighted, but Cregan was forbidden from joining due to his age. Frustrated, the young boy managed to sneak past the watchful gaze of his nursemaids, and he stole away into the woods with the hopes of tracking the stag and impressing his father and showing that he was old enough to participate in these activities.

Finding fresh tracks in the snow as well as fresh droppings, Cregan followed the trail towards the alleged stag. There was something off about the footprints, Cregan thinks. The tracks seemed a little bigger than the average stag footprints- at least it seemed that way from what the boy's father has shown him. But Cregan chose to put that concern aside in favor of following the tracks. Another thing the boy had noticed as he continued his hunt were the trees, or that he would look at the trees near the hoof prints and see claw marks on the tree bark. There was also a strong musk-like smell permeating the air as he got closer to his target...it wasn't anything like the musky smells that came from freshly killed stags that roam the woods.

Upon seeing something up ahead, Cregan practically sprinted towards it. It wasn't the white stag, but it was a stag. One that had laid recently dead, with claw and teeth marks that indicated the cause of death was a brutal mauling by some giant, wild animal. Cregan was actually dumbfounded at first when he saw the fallen animal. Only animal he could think of with the strength to take down a stag of this size would be a direwolf, but they haven't been spotted south of the Wall for quite some time.

Some grunts of pain caught Cregan's attention- human grunts of pain, that is.

The young boy ran around a tree to investigate. What he saw wasn't quite what he expected. It was a man laying against the tree, sword in hand- which he was trying desperately to keep hold of despite his weaken state. There was splatters of blood covering the man, some of it even painted on his snow white hair. The strange man didn't seem cognizant of his surroundings, so Cregan crept a little closer to get a better look. The boy tilted his head slightly as if curious. Being as close as he was, Cregan could see the sword wasn't made of steel like most swords should be- even the Stark's sword Ice was made of steel, albeit special steel. Another striking feature of this strange man was the silver medallion that hung from his neck, with the engraving of a wolf. When the man opened his eyes to reveal his golden irises, Cregan felt his jaw drop.

This couldn't be a man...he had to be a wolf...a wolf in the skin of a man. Did he shed his human skin to reveal his true wolf form and take down the stag? It would explain the blood and the scars.

The strange white haired man-wolf seemed to have regained awareness of his surrounding, for when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the boy holding a small bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. This was no place for a child right now, especially when there was still a monster lurking nearby.

The White Wolf quickly rose to his feet...or he tried, but clearly still injured he fell and landed on his face. Cregan's own eyes widen in surprise. The man looked up to see the boy was still standing there. "Get away," the man managed to rasp out, "Go! There's a-"

Before the wolf-man could finish, a roar unlike Cregan has heard reverberated against the trees. He's never heard anything like it before. It wasn't the howls of a wolf nor was it sounds he's heard from boars or elks, or bears.

Cregan chose to stand his ground, readying his arrow to shoot at whatever was out there. "Get out of here!" the man insists once more as he struggles to get back on his feet, silver sword in hand.

Too late now. The monster sprang out from among the trees, baring its fangs. It bore a striking resemblance to the stag it had killed, but larger and more hideous looking. Cregan felt himself quake in his boots, but the boy stood his ground. He was not about to show fear and let this beast get the upper hand.

The fiend lunged at Cregan, who made the wise last minute decision to jump out of the way. It appears a single arrow was not going to be enough to take down this monster. Cregan backed away, feeling his back hit against a tree. The boy turned and sprinted through the woods...or he would've if he had looked where he was going and didn't trip over the tree root in the process.

The fiend growled and lunged for the boy once again. Cregan covered his head, preparing for the worst to happen, but before the fiend could sink its teeth into the boy, the monster was slammed against the tree. Cregan looked up to see the wolf-man was on his feet, sword in one hand while the other made a sign that conjured a shield over the two of them. "Stay here," the white haired wolf said in a gruff voice as he walked out of the shield to face the monster.

Despite the odds, the battle didn't last too long. The wolf-man made signs with his free hand once more to push the fiend away, creating a perfect distraction to take the silver sword and stab the monster through the heart.

With the monster slain, the strange man slid down against the tree in relief, holding onto his side where the pain was still prominent. Cregan looked to see the man was injured. Hearing sounds of men calling out the boy's name, Cregan realized it was his father looking for him.

The boy ran with the intention of getting help for the strange mutant wolf. He found his lord father and his men, and he convinced them to follow to help the strange looking man who saved his life from the monster.

But by the time the party reached the scene, the white wolf was gone...as was the monster he had saved Cregan from. The boy knew no one was going to believe him now...and he knew he was in a lot of trouble from wondering off and disobeying his father.

----------------Present Day in The North: the Wall, Castle Black-------------------

"I'm guessing the men of the Night's Watch haven't seen anything like this before," Jace states as he and Cregan examine the anomaly before them.

Prior to their departure to the Wall, prior to Jace and Aemma's arrival to Winterfell in fact, Cregan had received a raven from the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch of something discovered beyond the Wall. Cregan wasn't sure what that meant, given the letter's cryptic wording, but he knew it must've been important to inform the Warden of the North.

It wasn't too unusual for the Watch's scouting parties to discover various items north of the wall, such as pieces of metal or abandoned weapons, from time to time, given that wildlings and the like inhabit the area.

But this was something else entirely.

This was a near whole body of armor, perfectly forged, nothing like what the wildlings could possibly have in their possession. The metal that was used to forge this armor wasn't like any material either of the men has seen before either, and the man that could possibly fit into it would surely have to possess a certain level of giant's blood in them.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Cregan admits to Jace, placing his hand and feeling the armor for himself, "this is not like any kind of metal I've ever seen." "It certainly isn't Valyrian steel, that much I can deduce," Jace says in agreement. "This was spotted close to the Wall," Cregan explains, "along with...other things."

The Lord Stark was a little hesitant to disclose that strange markings had been spotted against the Wall. Markings resembling claws that managed to scratch and make a dent against this gigantic 700 foot tall barrier of ice that has stood for thousands of years. Nothing was supposed to be able to penetrate the wall, no matter how much force was used.

Or so goes the belief. If the stories Cregan had been told by his late father were to go on, it could very well be signs that something powerful was out there intending to bring the Wall down, something that could very well bring about the start of the Long Night once more.

"I'm guessing this wasn't the work of wildlings," Jace observes, feeling the metal, "I've never seen metal like this before. If I didn't know any better I'd say this was the work of giants."

Before Cregan could say anything, a horn was sounded along with commotion that was suddenly heard outside the castle. Jace and Cregan exchange looks before they run outside to investigate.

The air had turned cold, even more so then when the two young men first arrived at the Wall. Even Cregan found himself pulling his fur cloak closer to his body as this was an unnatural cold he has never experienced before.

Sure enough, men of the Watch were scrambling about, gathering weapons and preparing themselves for battle. Looking further out, a portal had appeared from out of nowhere, and legions of horsemen in dark armor materialized from the portal, with dog-like ice monsters being leading the charge.

The leader of these wraith like beings stared ahead towards the Wall and shouted commands in his native language, leading the horde to charge forward.

-------------meanwhile-------------------

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Aemma looked ahead to see the Wall was within sight. She felt momentary relief that she was close, but could only hope she made it just in time before the Wild Hunt reached the place.

Aemma took a deep breath, reciting the incantations with the intention of reaching Vermax. She would need to make this quick as there was no telling how long she could hold this connection without having another nosebleed.

To Aemma's relief, Vermax seemed to be close by, for when she opened her eyes- when she saw through the eyes of her stepbrother's dragon- she got a good idea of just how close to the Wall Vermax was. Vermax suddenly made some alarming sounds, and Aemma could've sworn she felt the sudden drop in temperature in the air. The dragon looked towards the opposite direction of the Wall and, sure enough, a giant portal had popped out of nowhere.

Severing the connection from Vermax, Aemma opened her eyes and looked down to see the portal had appeared close to Castle Black. The men of the Night's Watch were scrambling about, preparing to defend the Wall even if it wasn't on the side they were expecting.

The Wild Hunt had arrived.

Aemma took a deep breath, bracing herself for what could very well be the fight for her life. She directs Cirillia towards the wall, but to her surprise, the dragon turned around. "Cirillia!" Aemma scolds, to which Cirillia roars in protest. Again, Aemma has Cirillia turn back to the wall, and once again, the dragon turned around. "Cirillia! Emagon ao gone vēdros? (Have you gone mad?) Cirillia just made more protesting sounds.

Aemma remembered from history how her great grandmother Queen Alysanne had tried to guide her dragon to fly over the wall but Silverwing had refused to cross it to the other side. She also remembered how Cirillia refused to land in that bog where the Crones resided back in Velen, how her dragon was quick to flee the scene when they crash landed. Aemma had to wonder if whatever was lurking beyond the wall was similar to what was lurking in that swamp that it was giving her dragon such unease that she would disobey her rider.

Be that as it may, Aemma needed to get down to the wall where the fight had broken out between the Night's Watch and the Red Riders.

Instead of having Cirillia fly towards the wall, Aemma had her dragon fly a little further out, and then proceeded to use her gift to see through her dragon's eyes.

Though the Night's Watch seemed outnumbered and overpowered by the might of the Wild Hunt, the men looked like they were managing to stand their ground against these strange invaders in spite of the shock of how said invaders arrived.

Aemma looked around the battle field. No sign of Ciri or Avallac'h so far, nor could she see any sign of Eredin or his confidantes.

Cirillia suddenly jerked her head in one direction. A closer view, Aemma could see from her dragon's eyes that Cregan was engaged in a one-on-one fight with an Aen Elle wielding a staff that he manipulated magic from. Despite that face being concealed behind a skull looking helmet, Aemma recognized right away that the elf the Lord of Winterfell was fighting was Caranthir, the Hunt's Navigator.

Still seeing through Cirillia's eyes, Aemma saw something peculiar during the fight. She had to blink a few times, but she was certain she saw wisps of magic being drawn from the Wall and into Caranthir's staff as he directed ice beams at Cregan, who managed to dodge before he went after the elf with Ice, but Caranthir was able to parry with his staff. Was the Navigator using the Wall as his source for drawing Chaos? Was magic- or Chaos- what was keeping the Wall intact for as long as it had?

If that was the case, if Caranthir kept using that same magic as his source, the Wall may end up falling and leaving the North and Westeros vulnerable to whatever was out there that the Wall kept at bay for the last thousands of years.

Aemma needed to stop Caranthir before it comes to that. And since Cirillia was too stubborn to take her rider any closer to the Wall, Aemma had every intention to jump off her dragon and join the battle.

She grabbed her sword, getting in a position to jump off the saddle. Right as she was about to make the jump, Aemma felt something or someone shove her off the saddle. Aemma braced herself, expecting to fall and meet the ground. Instead, while she did meet the snowy ground, the fall was not as long as she was expecting. Quickly noting wisps of magic scattering, she realized she had fallen through a portal.

Seeing a sword come at her in her periphery, Aemma rolled out of the way and sprung to her feet, sword in her hand as she faced the adversary before her. That adversary, unsurprisingly, being Eredin.

The two clashed swords. Though Aemma was able to hold her own, part of her was distracted from the dire need to stop Caranthir from drawing too much power from the Wall if she can help it. Taking advantage of her distraction, Eredin disarmed Aemma and shoved her back, causing her to land on her back.

Meanwhile, in the midst of battle, Jace fought off one of the ice monster dogs. The young man almost was overpowered, but one of the Night's Watch came to his aid and was able to slay the beast. With a little clearing open, Jace quickly scanned the scene in search of his dragon as well as for Lord Stark.

Looking ahead of him, Jace saw Cregan engaging in battle with one of those tall, armored beings with a steel staff he used against Cregan's sword. Sword in hand, Jace was about to rush to Cregan's aid, but was suddenly pushed aside with such force that he landed face first into the snow.

In his dazed state, Jace staggers back on his feet, still keeping his sword in hand, determined to aid the Lord of Winterfell. He rubbed the area on his shoulder that was hit from that heavy impact. Jace was about to rush as quick as he could towards Cregan but a massive hulking figure got in his way. The young prince was about to strike with his sword, but the towering being quickly disarmed him with his metal club. Eyes wide, Jace turned to face his adversary, who removed his helmet to reveal his face and pointed ears, which made Jace's eyes widen more then what he thought was possible.

Was this one of the elves that reside on the Eastern Continent?

Club in hand, Imerlith made an disappointed expression as he faced the young prince, "this will be over rather quickly." Anger at that insult, Jace quickly retrieves his sword and charges at Imerlith. A dragon roared, signaling Vermax was close by. The young, green dragon landed in front of Jace, fangs bared as he faced Imerlith.

Aemma, meanwhile, groans as she staggered back on her feet, ready to have a rematch with Eredin once more. Before she could, Aemma turned to see Jace had now joined in the fight in facing Imerlith. Torn between fighting him and Caranthir, Aemma ran in a straight path towards the separate conflicts. Eredin, in response, grabbed Aemma by the hair and pulled her back. The elf removed the face plate of his helmet, facing the princess with a serious tone.

"You should have accepted my offer when you had the chance, Silverlark," Eredin speaks, "Now more shall suffer for your defiance. And all before the coming of the White Frost." "Fuck you, Eredin," Aemma sneers, "the actions of your Red Riders are the reason for this carnage, NOT mine."

Right at that moment, Aemma looked over Eredin to see Imerlith knock out Vermax with his club. She saw Jace calling out and rushing over to his dragon, but Imerlith grabs Jace by the hair and yanks him away from his injured dragon.

"Jace!" Aemma attempts to run over to help her stepbrother, but Eredin gets in her way. Right on that cue, Cirillia roared as she flew circles above her rider and landed in front of Aemma, growling with rage, probably expecting Eredin to back away. He didn't.

"I would call off your pet serpent if I were you, Silverlark!" Eredin calls out, "unless you wish for your loved ones to perish..."

At a snap of Eredin's fingers, Imerlith drags Jace over. Caranthir succeeded in disarming Cregan and blasting him with an ice beam, disorienting the man and rendering him unconscious, giving the elf the chance to restrain the Lord Stark before dragging him over as well. Aemma's eyes widen, realizing the two were now hostages.

"Aemma?" Jace calls out, only for Imerlith to silence him with a yank to his hair. "Silence d'hoine!" "Jace!" Aemma was fixing to run towards him and Cregan, but Eredin pointed his sword at both men, signaling to the princess that he has the upper hand here. The elf king removed his helmet, fully revealing his face. Jace had wide eyes in response.

"Let them go!" Aemma demands. "Oh, I will, Silverlark, I will," Eredin assures, "I shall release the both of them...AFTER you agree to join me and the Red Riders."

"Aemma..." Jace says, fighting against his restraints, "what is this...creature going on about?" Once again, Imerlith uses excess force on Jace to shut him up, "you're hardly in a position to call us 'creatures', boy." Jace gave Imerlith a look of contempt, almost defiantly; at this point, Imerlith was playing multiple scenarios in his mind in how he would put this pup in his place when he'd eventually take Jace and the captured humans back to Tir na Lia as slaves.

Aemma kept her feet planted in place as she saw Jace fighting against his captor while Cregan remained unconscious in Caranthir's hold. She subtly scanned the area with hopes that Ciri, or even Avallac'h, were somewhere nearby and would hopefully jump in and interfere with this conflict. "Why do you hesitate?" Eredin asks, "do you not care for these people at all? Are there lives so unimportant to you?" Aemma saw no signs of Ciri or the elven sage. So she turned to face Eredin and addressed him in a low tone, "if I do agree to go with you...you will let them go?"

"You have my word," Eredin assures, which didn't exactly make Aemma feel any more at ease. "And if I do agree...you will stop chasing Ciri?" Again, Eredin nodded in agreement. "Aemma!" Jace exclaims, "what is going on? Don't let them take you away, you can't-" Imerlith whacked Jace aside the head with enough force to knock out the prince. Aemma exclaimed in shock before turning back to Eredin, expecting him to keep rein in his attack dog. "Keep your temper in check, Imerlith," Eredin warns, "I gave the princess my word. It is a grievous sin to break one's word to a royal...even if they are d'hoine."

Aemma ignored that insult and approached Eredin. Eredin, in return, extended a hand, to which Aemma accepted with the enthusiasm of a dead fish- an act of passive resistance. This didn't go unnoticed by the elf, and the look on face showed he has taken offense. "You could at least act like you are grateful for my mercy," he says in a low tone, to which Aemma scoffed sarcastically. "Merciful indeed," she mutters.

Cirillia saw what was going with her rider, and the dragon made roars of protest, fixing to charge at Eredin to protect Aemma. "Daor, Cirillia!" Aemma stops her dragon. Cirillia did as she was bid, but still made protest noises as she watch her rider about to be taken away once again.

"Release the hostages," Eredin directs his men. Caranthir let of go of an still unconscious Cregan, but Imerlith was hesitant to release Jace from his grasp. "You promised us spoils from this raid," the larger elf points out, "and I want this one." "I gave my word, Imerlith, I won't ask again," Eredin approaches his second in command, "do you dare to defy your king? There will be other opportunities. We have captured countless humans from this raid, you can have your pick of them instead."

Imerlith released Jace from his grip, albeit reluctantly, to which Aemma internally sighed in relief. Though she kept the Aen Elle in her sights, especially Eredin lest he decide to act in a cruel manner just to spite her.

Jace, meanwhile, groaned in pain from the hit he took to the side of his head. The young prince opened his eyes, his vision somewhat blurred, but once it started clearing he could see the mysterious elf being grab Aemma by the arm and drag her away towards the rest of this horde.

The prince turned to see Cregan was still out cold. Jace struggled back onto his feet, ready to take up arms and fight for his stepsister, but Imerlith saw and kicked Jace in the gut, causing the guy to grunt and fall back on his face in pain. "I would stand down, if I were you boy," the elf taunts, "you couldn't stand up against any of us even if you had 500 years."

Imerlith turned to follow his commander, not seeing Jace stagger back on his feet, grabbing his sword and charge at the elf. Aemma saw Imerlith take his club and fixing to use it on Jace. She bites Eredin on the hand, causing the elf king to release her. The princess blocked Imerlith's attack with her sword, but the force of the elf's club forced her back and land on Jace.

Both prince and princess now laid there in wide eyed terror as the three elves faced them, weapons in hand. "Perhaps you are more trouble then you are worth," Eredin says with anger in his eyes, "no matter. We will always have another to aid in our cause. You, Silverlark, were nothing more than an freak anomaly. An inbred abomination who was never meant to exist in the first place."

Eredin lifted his sword, ready to do away with both Jace and Aemma. Aemma placed a hand on Jace, ready to act as a shield, despite such a gesture to be futile.

Right as Eredin was about to deal the executing blow, a portal opened up, getting the Red Riders' attention. Aemma watched the portal in anticipation, expecting this to be Ciri and Avallac'h arriving to stop the Hunt and defend the Wall. Instead, from the portal came an older woman with long raven hair, violet eyes, and a skin tone similar to the Lady of Larks. Aemma recognized her to be a sorceress. And behind the woman, came a familiar face with the gold eyes and white hair, silver sword in hand.

"Geralt!"

Chapter 69

#hotd #house of the dragon #the witcher #geralt of rivia #oc #jacerys targaryen #jacerys velaryon #cregan stark #yennefer of vengerberg #ciri #avallac'h #the wild hunt #eredin breacc glas #caranthir #imerlith

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