#ic. Lara Dorren

[elderbloodcarrier]

@caelmewedd continued from X

After wishing Riannon goodnight, Cerro was taken to her room and turned to address the sage. "No, I will be alright. Thank you for such wonderful hospitality!" And with that, she wished him and her best friend a good night.

Back at the party Lara watched the sea of Aen Elle, happy to be back home. Her eyes would every so often glance over to Ge'els, making sure he was okay. Her father seemed to be having the time of his life, the complete opposite of his viceroy.

[starwrittenfates-a]

@torntruth liked for a starter with Lara! (for Ciri)

Lara looked upon her descendant with a sadness and guilt in her heart. She knew what the burden was like being of Elder Blood. The expectations thrown upon you. The weight of the world suddenly in your hands, decided by your actions, but everyone telling you how to go about it. She had endured it enough from her own people.

It took Lara a long time to learn that despite her people having the best intentions, they went about things in the wrong way. And things always turned out bad when the bird forced in a cage wasn't allowed to fly.

Maybe it was time to tell her descendant what she needed to hear all those centuries ago. "If it's one thing no one understands about the Elder Blood, it's that we control our own destiny. The power to do so is literally in our veins! For us, destiny is not a pre-determined course we can't escape. It's decided by the choices we make ourselves, not what others make for us!"

[helreginn]

starwrittenfates asked:

❛  are you always this straightforward with strangers ?  ❜

"Well you have to understand. I am cursed to be misbelieved so it really does not matter if I am overly honest." Was that an example or a lie? Hard to tell. She didn't seem apprehensive or bitter. Just.. matter-of-fact. "Why?" she asked, smiling innocently at Lara, "Did I give too much away?"

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 61

Masterlist

Chapter 60.5

Aemma had Cirillia keep behind Rhaenys and Meleys as they flew to Dragonstone with haste. 

It was during this time, Aemma felt herself starting to dose off on account that she didn't get much sleep the night before. She turned her gaze sideways, feeling her eyes grow heavy with sleep. As she started to close them, she was almost certain she saw the sky turn red once again.

"Aemma....Aemma....Aemma!" "Ciri?"

Aemma opened her eyes to find herself in the spot she was in her last vision. She looked behind her to see she was behind the Wall once again. "Ciri?" "I'm over here," Ciri speaks, sounding close, making Aemma flinch. "It's okay," Ciri assures, placing a hand on Aemma's shoulder. Aemma sighed in relief. "Ciri, where...what's happening?"

"I think our minds have somehow linked to share this vision," Ciri explains, "at least that's what I hoped has happened." "You hope?" "I've been working on certain techniques with Avallac'h," Ciri explains, "he's an elven sage from-" "I know who he is," Aemma assures, "I've seen him before in previous visions. Is he here now?" "No," Ciri shakes her head, "he's keeping the Wild Hunt distracted as we speak, keeping them from finding me for the time being. I needed to speak with you." "Why?" "What do you remember from your last vision?" Ciri inquires, "and I don't want to rush you, but we don't exactly have much time. Avallac'h told me he won't be able to keep Eredin and the Red Riders at bay for very long." Knowing the seriousness of getting caught by the Wild Hunt, Aemma recalls what she remembered, "I heard Avallac'h telling you to run. We were here in this exact same spot. You were running from the Hunt. And this place..." Ciri looked up to see the Wall behind the both of them, "what is this place?" "This is the Wall of the North," Aemma tells her, "it was built thousands of years ago during the time of the First Men." "It's made completely of ice," Ciri states, "in my experience, walls are usually built to keep something- or somethings- out. What does this wall keep out?"

"Severe Winter weather? Wildlings perhaps..." Aemma shrugs, "I honestly don't know. The Lord of Winterfell might know, his ancestor was the one who built it. But I don't understand, are you saying this hasn't happened yet?" "Perhaps it was built to protect against the White Frost," Ciri mutters. "What was that?" "Noth...nothing."  "You...you haven't made it to the Wall yet?" "No I hadn't...yet....You saw the future," Ciri realized, "how is this possible? I thought you could only see visions of the past."

"I...I don't know," Aemma shakes her head, "I...that was the first time that's ever happened to me." "What exactly were you doing when it happened?" "I...Helaena," Aemma realized, "she can see into the future. She's a Dreamer, like our ancestor Daenys. I've heard her make predictions before and they came true in one way or another. I wonder...if her gift somehow influenced mine." "What exactly did she say?" "...she told me the Wild Hunt was coming," Aemma answered, "that they were approaching from beyond the Wall...and that they were coming after the Swallow. They were coming after you, Ciri."

Ciri was silent on it. Aemma had to wonder on some level if Ciri knew this was going to happen, "the Hunt...they're running after you for a reason, yes?" "It's not me they want, it's the Elder Blood that I possess," Ciri tells her. "What exactly is this Elder Blood?" Aemma asks. Ciri took in a breath before she explained, "I'm...as it turns out my family line is not entirely human." "I don't follow. You mean like, what Ivan is. Are you a half-elf, Ciri?" "Not a half elf," Ciri shakes her head, "But I do have elven blood. I have an ancestor by the name of Lara Dorren. She had a special gift that she passed onto her descendants over the years. The gift was passed over my grandmother, but my mother possessed it...and now I possess it. And it looks like my gift was somehow passed to you." "Tris told me about that," Aemma says, "she believes it happened that day in Kaer Morhen...when my father took my mother and myself away."

"I tried to stop him," Ciri confirms, "but I couldn't control my power when it happened. Tris had to stop me before my gift ended up razing Kaer Morhen to the ground." "The spell backfired and ended up hitting me, which somehow passed your gift to me as well," Aemma nods.

"I lost control of my power back in Loc Muinne," Aemma admits, "I...it's strong. I can see why the Wild Hunt want to wield it so badly. They'd probably do a better job at harnessing it than I could." "If Eredin got hold of the Elder Blood he would do more harm than good," Ciri insists, "it's why I have to keep running. I can't let him catch me."

"Perhaps if I was able to see more of the vision," Aemma insists, "if I could look further into the future..." She looks to Ciri. "What?" "The only reason I was able to see the future once before was because of Helaena and her gift as a Dreamer," Aemma explains, taking Ciri's hand in hers, "you can see into the future...if we both used our power, maybe we can see what is to happen."

"Aemma...we don't have a lot of time left." "All the more reason we should give it a try," Aemma insists, "if what I saw before has not yet happened, then we should know how best to prepare." Ciri still seemed reluctant, but seeing the determined look on Aemma's face, she takes her hands once again, "repeat after me."

Ciri mutters the incantation Avallac'h taught her, Aemma repeating as Ciri spoke.

Both Aemma and Ciri felt as if their souls had left their bodies, feeling light as air. "What's going on?" Aemma somehow manages to asks. Despite this out-of-body experience, it looked like she was walking, strolling past various men in black clothing and armor. "I...I think we're looking into the future again," she hears Ciri says, "Are we on top of the ice Wall?" "I think so," Aemma confirms, "these must be the men of the Night's Watch." "The what?" "They oversee the Wall," Aemma explains, "they keep of movements both North and South of the wall day and night. They're well renown for their bravery and lifelong commitment."

A dragon's roar caught both girls' attention. Aemma looked down the Wall to see a large green dragon close by. "It's Vermax," Aemma says in recognition, "if he's here then that means Jacaerys must be here too." "Who?" "My stepbrother." Right on cue, the scene switched, taking Aemma and Ciri to the bottom of the wall, close to the lift. A tall young man with dark hair approached the lift. He carried a sword, strapped over his broad shoulders, which were covered by a fur pelt cloak. "Is that Jacaerys?" "No, he's way too tall, and he's...he has a larger built," Aemma says. "Shame...he is quite handsome, I'll give him that," Ciri states. "He is..." Aemma agrees, before recognizing the sigil on the man's chest place. "That sigil...it's the direwolf of House Stark. I think this is Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell." "Is he a good man? Can he be trusted?" Ciri questions. "I think so," Aemma confirms, "From what I remember, Cregan became Warden of the North at 13 when his father Rickon passed. His uncle Bernnard had oversaw Winterfell's affairs until Cregan came of age, though Bernnard tried to keep control of that position for just a little while longer. Cregan was quick to put a stop to that, he had his uncle imprisoned for treason. But he lives up to the reputation of honor his House is known for." 

"Is he married?" "He's...he's a widower actually. His wife died in childbirth, but his son survived. If I remember correctly, Cregan named the boy Rickon to honor his late father." 

 "Who is that approaching?" Ciri asks, which Aemma looked to see a younger man run after the young Lord Stark. "That's Jace!" Aemma exclaimed, "so he is here. But why? Did Rhaenyra send him to treat with Lord Stark?"

The scene shifted again, and Aemma and Ciri found themselves on the lift, which was going up to the top of the Wall, with Jace and Cregan. "I can't hear what they're saying," Aemma admits. "You can't?" Ciri sounded surprise. "No...can you?" "Every word." "I guess there's limits to sharing our gifts," Aemma sighs, "fine...what are they saying?"

"I'm not sure if I heard right, but Lord Stark just told your stepbrother that Winter is Coming." "The words of House Stark," Aemma mutters. "Jace is having a hard believing THIS isn't winter," Ciri laughs a little, "Cregan appears to be amused by that disbelief. He only shrugged this off as merely a light summer snow. Apparently, it gets a lot worse than this come ACTUAL winter."

Aemma looked over from the lift, seeing the snow fall, then looked up to see the overcast sky, "I find myself shuddering to think what this place will look like when winter does finally arrive."

The scene shifted once more, and the girls were atop the Wall once more, with Jace and Cregan. "What are they saying now?" Aemma asks, seeing Jace move his lips as he spoke to the young lord, almost as if there was a sense of urgency. "I...I think Jace is pleading with Lord Stark," Ciri answers, "something about upholding the oath that was taken years ago...for Rhaenyra." "She must've found out about the Greens coup by now," Aemma realized, "she must've sent Jace to Winterfell to remind the Lord of Winterfell of the oath that was made when Viserys named Rhaenyra heir to the Iron Throne."  "Greens coup? Aemma what...what are you taking about?"

Before Aemma could answer, she felt the air shift, and she could finally hear the two men speak. "Do you think my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?" Cregan inquires of Jace. "What does it keep out?" Jace asks skeptically. "...Death," was Cregan's answer.

Jace looked out to see what was lying north of the Wall.

The sky suddenly turned red as Aemma followed Jace's gaze, and a portal from the edge of the forest opened, legions of horses and riders and ice monsters coming forth. The leader of the Wild Hunt shouted a command in elven and the army charged at the Wall. Eyes wide, and panic setting in, Aemma ran towards her stepbrother, "Jace!" she calls out, "JACE! Jace get out of there! You and Lord Stark need to get away from the wall! JACE!"

Aemma reached out, but her arm ran past Jace as if she were a ghost. Both Jace and Cregan just kept talking to each other as if they were oblivious to the immediate dangers beyond the wall. "JACE! JACE! JACE!"

"Aemma!" she heard Ciri call out. "Ciri?"

The scene before her became distorted. Aemma felt herself walking backward, until she fell and landed on her bottom. "Jace? Ciri-"

"I want you to put out your eye," she heard another familiar voice speak, "...as payment for mine." "That voice...Aemond?" "One will serve...I will not blind you," she heard Aemond speak again, "plan to make a gift of it to my mother." "Aemond? Aemond, where are you?"

She heard Aemond shout something incoherent, almost as if he were demanding something. She saw the scene clear as she saw Aemond charge at someone, dagger in hand. Aemond stopped in his tracks, seething hatred in his eye. Aemma noticed Aemond's eye patch was missing, revealing his sapphire.  "Aemond, what are you doing?" She looked to where Aemond was fixating his gaze.  She couldn't see, the background was too distorted to make out.

"Ciri!" Aemma calls out, "I can't see what is happening? What is going on? Who is Aemond trying to attack?!"

"Aemma? Aemma!" she hears Ciri call out, "your cousin, he's going to-"

Ciri's voice was cut off. Aemma suddenly heard Vhagar roaring in the distant followed by Aemond shouting, "VHAGAR! NO!"

Aemma heard cracks like breaking glass occur until the vision shattered like a broken mirror. "AEMOND!"

Aemma suddenly found herself back in the same spot she was in at the beginning of this dream sequence. She fought the urge to hyperventilate. She didn't know what to say or what to do. To her relief, Aemma saw Ciri was still here. The link between them had not yet been broken. 

Ciri placed a hand over her mouth, eyes in shock. A stray tear had even slipped out. "Ciri...what happened?" Aemma inquires with worry. "I saw...I saw..." Ciri stutters, more tears slipping out. "Ciri?" "I'm sorry," Ciri quietly sobs, wiping away the tears, "...I'm sorry." "Ciri, I...I saw Aemond in my last vision," Aemma tells her, "I couldn't see anything else but him. Did  you see him?" Ciri shakes her head. "You did see," Aemma realized, "What happened? What was Aemond doing? What was he trying to do?"

Again Ciri was silent. "Ciri," Aemma speaks, "if this was in the future, if it has yet to happen, I need to know, especially if it involves Aemond. Is he about to do something brash? Something that might get him in trouble?" "Even if I told you...I don't know what can be done," Ciri admits, "I could feel his anger...his hatred. He won't stop." "I still need to know," Aemma insists, "tell me, so I can stop him...so I can save him from himself if I have to."

Ciri made a sigh, "alright. Aemond. He was in a castle. I don't know what it was, but there someone else there, and he-"

Before Ciri could continue, a hand was placed over her mouth. Aemma looked to see who it was. "Say no more, Zireael!" Avallac'h scolds her. "What are you doing?" Aemma demands. "I'm sorry, Aemma," Avallac'h says, a regretful look on his face, "but Cirilla has told you too much already."

Ciri pulled Avallac'h's hand away, "she needs to know!" she insists, "She has a right to know! If no one tells her-" "It is best she does not know!" the elf insists back, "The course of this future was already in motion the moment Aemma made her choice to leave King's Landing. We cannot interfere. We cannot undo Destiny, no matter how much we wish it."

"What? What won't you tell me that I can't know?!" Aemma demands. Sensing Ciri was about to speak her mind, Avallac'h shouted incantations, that put Ciri in a deep sleep and pulled her from the vision. "Ciri!" Aemma exclaims. "We have run out of time," Avallac'h tells her, "the Wild Hunt is once again on our trail. You have seen where they plan to appear next, Aemma Silverlark...you know where you must go."

"But what about-"

Avallac'h shouted another incantation, breaking the link between them and ending the vision.

-------------------------------

"Ciri!" Aemma bolts up from the bed she was laying on.

Wait, a bed? Why was she in bed? Last thing she remembered was dosing off while astride Cirillia while following Rhaenys and her dragon to Dragonstone...to warn Rhaenyra of what had just transpired. Alicent and her father organizing a coup to usurp the throne and make Aegon king. Aemma and her grandmother had managed to escape.

"Aemma!" she heard Rhaena exclaim. Aemma looked over to see her sister had been keeping at her bedside, "thank the gods!"  "Rhaena," Aemma says as Rhaena pulls her in for hug, "Rhaena, what happened?" "You and grandmother arrived on Dragonstone on Meleys and Cirillia," Rhaena tells her, "she...she told us what happened. The king he's..." "Viserys is dead," Aemma nods, remembering what happened, "And the queen...she and the Hand they usurped the throne." "Grandmother told us that as well," Rhaena says somberly.

"How did I get here?" Aemma asks. "When the dragons landed, grandmother noticed you hadn't dismounted Cirillia just yet," Rhaena explains, "you...you were sleeping. She tried to wake you, but you wouldn't budge. She had you brought straight to the maesters, who tried to wake you as well, to no avail. They couldn't explain what happened, only that you appeared to have sunk into a deep comatose state."

Aemma remembered the vision she had. "Are Jace and Luke still here?" Aemma asks, "And Baela for that matter?" "Yes?" Rhaena frowns a bit, to which Aemma sighs in relief. "And what about father and Rhaenyra?"

Right on cue, moans of pain reverberated across the castle walls. "Rhaenyra? What's happening to her?" Panic had set in as Aemma feared if Daemon had something to do with the pain her stepmother was clearly in. "She...Rhaenyra went into labor the moment she heard her father had passed," Rhaena informs her sister, sadness befalling her countenance. "But...it's too soon," Aemma says in a hoarse voice, "She can't be going into labor right now." Rhaena shakes her head, clearly assuming the worst as tears left her eyes. "Hey," Aemma tries to assure Rhaena, placing a hand on her sister's cheek, "it won't happen again. We won't lose another mother to the child bed." Rhaena nods, trying to feel confident it won't be like what happened to Laena, but the worst case scenario was lingering in both their minds.

"We better go see what else is happening," Aemma insists, getting out of the bed and running towards the door. "Who's Ciri?" Rhaena asks, stopping Aemma in her tracks. "What?" "That was the name you shouted when you woke up," Rhaena tells her, "it was also the name you were calling out in your sleep as well. Who is Ciri?"

Aemma was about to tell her, but Rhaenyra's painful moans stopped her from answering. "I'll tell you later," she assures, taking Rhaena by the arm and leading her out, "Rhaena...there's also something else I need to tell you. But no one else can know for the time being." "What is it?"

"My mother, the Lady of Larks...she's alive."

"What?! But how?" "I'll explain that later as well," Aemma assured, "I need you to know now, because everything our father had ever said about his relationship to her was a lie."

"...that explains his behavior the night we left King's Landing," Rhaena says with realization.

"You all left me behind in King's Landing," Aemma states, remembering the morning after she left from Aemond's chambers. "It was father's idea," Rhaena informs, "he said it was best you stayed behind. That...he looked uncomfortable that night after dinner. I saw the way he was looking at you during the dinner. He tried to hide it, the discomfort but he wasn't very good at it." "It was the dress," Aemma says, "it belonged to my mother, she gave it to me before I left. He recognized where it came from. And he saw my...my necklace? What happened to it?"

Rhaena pulled the silver medallion from her sleeve and gave it to Aemma, "father tried to take it away when you were asleep," she says, "I told him I would dispose of it, but I lied. He had this agitated look on his face when he saw it hanging from your neck, I figured there was a reason for that."

"I'm grateful you kept it from him," Aemma smiles, putting the medallion back on.

The two sisters run into Jace, who looked like he was in a hurry to be somewhere. "Aemma, you're awake!" he exclaims. "I am," Aemma nods, "what's going on?" "Mother informed Luke and myself what has happened," Jace tells her, "she fears Daemon has run off to start a war, we need to stop him."

"Jace, wait!" Aemma calls to the prince, but Jace ignored her and ran off to the council room. Aemma sighed, wondering if she even should've said anything if Jace actually listened, if he would believe her if she told him about her vision.

Aemma and Rhaena catch up with Jace. In the council chamber, Daemon was indeed directing orders to prepare for an upcoming war and to send messages to the Great Houses to remind them of the oath they swore to recognize Rhaenyra as Viserys' true heir. Aemma stood back, not wanting to be seen by her father just yet.

"I will fly to the Riverlands myself and affirm Lord Tully's support," Daemon announces. "You will do no such thing," Jace firmly speaks as he approached the council. All eyes were now on the Prince of Dragonstone and Rhaenyra's heir. Jace falter for a split second before he regained his composure and spoke with authority, "My mother has decreed that no action is to be taken while she's abed." 

Daemon gave Jace a certain look...a potentially dangerous look. "Good you're here, young prince," Daemon says with slight condescension, "You're needed to patrol the skies on Vermax." "Did you hear what I said?" Jace challenged. "You would do well to listen to him" Aemma steps in, all eyes now on the princess, including Daemon. "Aemma, you are awake," the Rogue prince said with a restrained tone, "good...we will need Cirillia to patrol the skies as well." "The Queen has decreed no action is to be taken, father," Aemma states with a stern tone, approaching her father with a look of contempt, "maybe instead of undermining her authority you would do well to listen, or better yet be at her side while she labors to bring in your next child, if that's not too much to ask."

Daemon kept his composure, not letting it known that the dragon inside him was slowly waking. There was a reason he had the Blacks leave Aemma behind when they departed for King's Landing initially. Daemon had suspected that Aemma knew the secrets he had kept hidden from her for the last sixteen years. The look on her face said it all. In some way it almost made Daemon fearful that the Lady of Larks somehow survived that cursed pogrom, which he had initially seen as a blessing as any secrets his Little Lark had kept to herself would've been forgotten.

But now it seemed that was not the case. "Very well," Daemon says with a dangerous tone, giving directions to the lords to send the ravens. He then turned to Aemma and to Jace, "Come with me, I'll show you both the true meaning of loyalty."

Jace followed, but Aemma stopped in her tracks, which Daemon noticed immediately. "Did YOU not hear me, my daughter?" "I heard..." Aemma says in a low tone, "I'm not going anywhere with you. Not until you admit it." Daemon looked to the lords in the council chamber, and then to Jace and over to Rhaena. "Leave us," the king consort said in a low tone to which the lords wisely heeded. Jace had a look of concern on his face. "Go, Prince Jacaerys," Daemon says to Jace, not taking his gaze off Aemma, "take Rhaena with you." "Father, what are you going to do?" Rhaena questions with concern. "Something I've should've done a long time ago," was all Daemon said.

Jace quickly escorts Rhaena out of the council room.

"Aemma," Daemon begins, tone still as low and dangerous as ever, "whatever you think it is I have done-" "What is it you have done?" Aemma challenges. Daemon was silent, turning his gaze away. "I know what happened," Aemma continues, "I know what you did to mother. I know I was not born on Dragonstone. I was born in Kaer Morhen, the keep of the witchers. I know mother fled King's Landing, she didn't love you, she was trying to get away from you. I know you forced her back when you found out about us. I know you forced her to marry you, become your second wife. I know you practically imprisoned her on Dragonstone against her will, I know you snatched me away from her when she tried to escape, and I KNOW OF THE NUMEROUS TIMES YOUR FORCED YOURSELF ON HER!"

"...Well AREN'T YOU EVEN GOING TO SAY ANYTHING?!" Aemma exasperates, unable to handle Daemon's silence, "are you even going to deny it? Lie to me like you have for the last 16 years?! Can't you even look me in the eye and even tell me it was all a lie?!"

"...so it's true then," Daemon says, "the Lady of Larks is alive." "You knew?" "Not at first...not until now," Daemon admits, "I knew the moment I saw you wearing her dress...She told you everything..." "Yes, she told me everything," Aemma almost sneers, like it was obvious, "she told me so much more then you would have ever told me."

"I loved your mother," Daemon mutters. "YOU DID NOT FUCKING LOVER HER!" Aemma screams, "A man who loves a woman would have NEVER done the things you did to her! You wouldn't have kept her from leaving if she wanted, you never WOULD HAVE TAKEN HER ONLY CHILD AWAY FROM HER!"

"YOU ARE THE BLOOD OF THE DRAGON, AEMMA!" Daemon shouts back, "MY BLOOD! Your mother did not understand that THIS is your heritage, not some fucking ruins in the middle of some mountains nobody even knows about!" he gestures to the whole of Dragonstone, "if the Lady of Larks had it her way, she would've deprived you of all this! She would have deprived you of sleeping with a dragon's egg in your cradle. Were it not for me, you would not have Cirillia as your dragon." "Don't you dare bring Cirillia into this!" Aemma shoves her father back, "don't you fucking dare. Everything you have given me at the expense of depriving me of my own mother! And you expect me to be grateful for that?!"

"Was your life so unbearable?" Daemon points out, "did I not give you a mother? Two mothers, had you bothered to stay. Did I not give you brothers and sisters? Had you remained in that...shit hole with those mutant cutthroats, you would never have known them." "Those cutthroats are called witchers," Aemma states, tapping her medallion for emphasis, "they were living peacefully, they allowed mother to live peacefully with them before you ruined it all."

"Is that what HE told you?" Daemon scoffs, "the White Wolf?" "His name is Geralt of Rivia." "I take it he was the one who gave you THAT disgusting trinket, the one I thought I told your sister to dispose of," Daemon points at the medallion, "did he tell you what happened? He wasn't there half the time. That freak is hardly a saint in your mother's story. Only reason he ever came for her was because he was obsessed with her. Her and you for that matter, and if you stayed him and his ilk would have turned you into one of them. Seems like he tried to do that already. I wager that sterile bastard had it enchanted to put you under his influence. Perhaps it was used to make it seem like your mother survived and told you what he wanted you to hear."

"You can't stop lying, can you? Can't stop making excuses," Aemma scoffs in disbelief, "of course you can't...that's who you are." "Take off that cursed necklace, Aemma," Daemon demands. "I will not." "Take it off. Now!" "NO!"

Daemon came after Aemma, who jumped back, punching Daemon in the jaw. Aemma ran off, but Daemon caught her, shoving her against the wall, and yanking the medallion off her. "Give me back my medallion!" Aemma demands, running after Daemon, "Vesemir gave me that, he made it just for me!"

"He should've been burned for engraving our sigil into this thing," Daemons says with disgust, "tainting the Targaryen symbol with this black magic." Daemon takes one quick look at the medallion before he tosses it out the window before Aemma could grab it from him.

Aemma stood at the window, mouth agape to see the tears falling as she could not see where the witcher medallion landed. "There now, dear daughter," Daemon says with an assured tone, "you are free of the witcher's influence. He will torment you no longer."

Daemon goes to pat Aemma on the head like he used to, but Aemma shoved him away, "YOU MONSTER!" She punches at her father, but Daemon stops her, restrains her as he allows her to take her frustration out. "You fucking monster!" She screams, voice hoarse, "you're a monster! Not even all the silver in this world could stop you! You monster!"

Aemma had exhausted herself to the point where she was a shivering sobbing mess in her father's arms, who held her, partly to comfort her, partly to keep her from attacking him again.

Rhaenyra's screams from her labor pains soon overrode the sounds of Aemma's tearful hiccups. "The king is dead," Daemon says in a serious tone, "that cunt of a Hand and his bitch daughter have usurped your true queen's throne. You need to decide now, Byka zaldrīzes, where your loyalties lie. Will you take their side? Or will you put aside your grievances and support the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Daemon sets Aemma down on the floor to let her continue crying it out before he walked away. Aemma was not about to let her father have the last word.

"Father!" she calls out, still hiccuping in spite of her dried tears, causing Daemon to stop in his tracks, "I thought you should know...I fucked Aemond...How’s that for living up to my Targaryen expectations?"

Saying nothing, keeping himself from bristling from that statement in anger, Daemon walked out of the castle towards the beach.

Chapter 62

[caerme]

@caerme: an independent, selective, crossover & oc friendly writing blog for various characters from the witcher. penned by sage (21+, she/her, cest). carrd. memes.

portraying the voices of those accursed by hen ichaer, the elder blood, and its accompanying effects & along with a few individuals who accompany or test them on their journeys. blessed with mighty magical skills unknown to all but carriers of their genes, whilst also cursed by those harbouring great interest in manipulating, claiming or even stealing these powers. the majority would only see the gifts these genes would pass to its carriers, whilst not realising its purpose nor its tearing effects. a constant fight between light and dark, between power and balance and finally, between fire and ice.

those of the elder blood

lara dorren, the one perfected to save the world * falka, the one set for destruction * adalia, the one who chose differently * calanthe fiona riannon, the high queen * pavetta fiona elen, the pawn in many games * cirilla fiona elen riannon, the lady of space and time * jacques de aldersberg, the one who was not meant to be

& those along on their journey

cregennan of lod, the one to ruin what was * geralt of rivia, the one to rid the world of foul creatures * vilgefortz of roggeveen, the one to seek power above all else * eredin bréacc glas, the king of the wild hunt * cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach, the dreamer

[dukeofdogs]

Queen Calanthe

Chest 1: As history tells us, Calanthe was the last to ever reign as Queen of Cintra. During the First Nilfgaardian War, Emhyr var Emreis moved to assimilate the neighboring kingdom into his empire. The Lioness of Cintra, as she was fondly known, defended her ancestral home with great ferocity – enduring grave wounds herself. Yet, sensing the castle's imminent ruin, she ordered her courtiers to deliver her a knife with which she could take her own life. None dared comply and play part in their queen's demise. Alas, their defiance was in vain, for Calanthe then simply threw herself from the tower's highest window.

Chest 2: Sadly, the queen's body was never found—likely trampled beyond recognition into blood-soaked mud by Nilfgaardian heavy infantry. Following the war, two glorious monuments were erected in her honor: one in Skellige, where she was symbolically laid to rest beside her beloved husband, and the other beneath the Cintra Castle by the request of Emhyr var Emreis, her conqueror. It seems—for reasons likely known only to him—the Nilfgaardian emperor felt bitter remorse over the queen's death...

Chest 3: Calanthe's veins carried the blood of an ancient Aen Elle line—that of Lara Dorren, one of the Aen Saevherne, or elven sages as they are commonly known. Though the Lioness of Cintra didn't inherit the magical talents of the elder blood, such an affinity did reveal itself in her daughter, Pavetta, and thereafter in her granddaughter, Cirilla. Yet given Calanthe's infamous temper, perhaps such a fate was for the best. To think what she would have been capable of had she been versed in the arcane magical arts...

Scroll 1: Calanthe—or Calanthe Fiona Riannon, to be precise—was oft referred to under two monikers. Throughout the Continent she was known as the "Lioness of Cintra," and on the Skellige Isles as "Ard Rhena"—that is, the "High Queen." Both names fit her better than even the finest pair of silken gloves.

Scroll 2: Calanthe proved as valiant as she was stern. At the mere sight of her, boisterous warriors would fall utterly silent, and even the most vainglorious counts stooped low in bow. Few dared to act against her will, and fewer still would repeat their mistake.

Scroll 3: Calanthe had always wished to rule on her own, hence her longtime aversion toward marriage. Yet when she finally decided to wed, the well of eager suitors had run dry. With eyes like green ice, her fearsome gaze did little to melt the hearts of young princes...

Scroll 4: In the end, Calanthe walked down the aisle on two occasions. Her first husband, Roegner de Salm, gave her an heiress; the second, Eist Tuirseach — true love. It could have made for a beautiful tale... If not for its bitter end.

[thirstyforred]

First Lines

just got tagged by @tumbleweedtech , ty <3, to do this lil thing, so let's go!

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

O fanach robali (About fans of bugs) - Gwent | Savolla x Sandor de Baccalá Wszyscy zawsze wiedzieli że jak latem stary Wiley ogłasza arenę zamkniętą na weekend to lepiej się tam nie kręcić w ogóle, nieważne co. (Everyone has always known that when old Wiley announces an arena closed for the weekend in the summer, it's better not to hang around there at all, no matter what.)

Prince Troyden and Praetor - Witcher TTRPG | Troyden x OC “Stay the night,” said Prince Troyden.

2 horny adults at work, shenanigans happen - Witcher | Huebrt Rejk x fem!Jacques de Aldersberg Hubert Rejk sighed once again.

unruly sacrifice - Witcher, Gwent | Morrigan & Svalblod It wasn’t entirely uncommon for Morrigan’s followers to send her dead beings as offerings.

Shard of Glass - Witcher | Winter Queen/Gaunter O'Dimm Truth is but a shard of ice.

feverish Roderick &/x Albrecht - Witcher | Roderick de Wett x OC Looking at Roderick, actually looking at him, without the veil of pretenses, Albrecht can see why he’s like that.

💕🐛 The Bug Lover 🐛💕 - Witcher | Alzur x Viy Alzur was always, rather tragically, the type of man who would rather die than admit to being wrong.

two wrongs do (not) make right - Witcher TTRPG | Erland of Larvik x Arnaghad It’s an old map, one of those that shouldn't be accurate anymore.

Oh, I really wish I was scared to (die) - Witcher | Lara Dorren x Kaedwen Clark Lara walks through the throne room, an intricate mosaic pattern underneath her feet.

Wild Hungover - Witcher, Cyberpunk 2077 Consider this - You’re sitting by the table, in front of you are M-10AF Lexington with a full clip, a bunch of poppers, DVOM, and a mass of other shit.

looking at this now, ig im leaning towards shorter opening, unless i want to be weird on purpose lol

[firewvlk]

wanted connections.

amicia de rune (a plague tale):

béatrice de rune

lucas

mélie

rodric

arnaud malpart 

sophia

atreus (god of war):

kratos

laufey

brok

sindri

mimir

freya

thrúd

skjöldr 

ava silva (warrior nun):

sister camila

shotgun mary

mother superion

michael salvius

sister lilith

cal kestis (star wars):

second sister/trilla suduri

cere junda

greez dritus

cara mason (legend of the seeker):

richard cypher/rahl

zeddicus zu'l zorander 

ciri (the witcher):

pavetta

cerys an craite

hjalmar an craite

cahir 

vesemir 

lambert 

eskel 

coën 

avallac'h

lara dorren 

daisy johnson (agents of shield/marvel):

phil coulson

lincoln campbell 

melinda may 

alphonso mackenzie

bobbi morse 

harley quinn (dc/injustice):

oliver queen

dinah lance

hunter (midnight suns/marvel):

agatha harkness

lilith

eric brooks

nico minoru 

steve rogers

deadpool

jaina solo (star wars):

anakin solo

zekk

luke skywalker

jagged fel 

kyp durron

mara jade

john b (outer banks):

big john

pope heyward

cleo

josh washington (until dawn):

hannah washington

beth washington

chris hartley

mike munroe

the judge (far cry 5/new dawn):

joseph seed

faith seed

john seed

jacob seed

carmina rye 

nick rye

joey hudson

sharky boshaw

staci pratt

mary may fairgrave 

laurie strode (halloween):

judith myers

karen nelson

frank hawkins 

marceline (adventure time):

ice king/simon petrikov

finn

jake

rachel amber (life is strange):

chloe price

max caulfield

steph gingrich 

nathan prescott

justin williams 

evan harris

victoria chase

sera gearhardt 

selene (underworld):

eve corvin

david

lena

shaggy rogers (scooby-doo):

maggie rogers

velma dinkley

steve harrington (stranger things):

tommy hagan

erica sinclair 

lucas sinclair

zack fair (final fantasy vii):

angeal hewley

sephiroth

cloud strife

aerith gainsborough

cissnei

yuffie kisaragi

tifa lockhart

tseng 

[paramounticebound]

"Have you ever been a prisoner here?" he asked lowly, finally rising from his pretend-throne to approach her, to glide to her like a wraith on the path of the hunt, ravenous and emaciated. Of everything that had fallen from her lips like shed petals, those were the words that cut, a blade straight to his throat. He stood above her, blue gaze like an ice storm, trembling, trembling.

"I do not mean to stop you," he lied, "I only wish to understand. You are neither powerless because you are a woman nor without merit, as you say, but because the White Flame is impartial to the suffering of the Continent. I have heard his favored view of the Elder Races-- and I know it is a deception."

So it went, on and on again, that humans would make peace with the Aen Seidhe, only to thrust a dagger as soon as backs were turned.

Thrumming in his chest, the war drums of his heart threaten to give him away. The scandal that would erupt in his court if the wrong eyes peered, even at this moment with his wild words and wilder eyes, it would decimate an already fragile existence. As Lara Dorren and Cregenan of Lod had suffered, star-crossed and doomed, so would they. Khan would rather rot in a Nilfgaardian dungeon for the remainer of his centuries-- anything, if it meant keeping Fox safe. Keeping her alive.

How reckless of him, then, to take her hands in his own, far more tender than the bite of his words.

Stay.

"In another life, I would steal you away to Tir ná Lia," nearly a whisper, lest overheard; perhaps more for himself than any else, the only tongue that recalled the ancient places, "And forgo this world entirely." Perhaps one day, he'd take her to meet the unicorns, if they were not already observing the chaos that had erupted from the Conjunction of the Spheres.

"At least tell me of your plan," audible this time, and while still holding steady to a semblance of something-- forbidden and powerful enough to topple nations-- he retained a possessive sort of wounded anger.

paramounticebound​:

The pain comes in waves, like the swell of an ocean that threatens to continually drown him, to eternally chain him to this wretched moment of immortality. This pain, these waves are broken by the splinters of compassion that remain within him and by the presence of the only human he’d ever been able to tolerate. Each wolf-mouth full of ire had been accepted until his abuse lessened—he’d found her different, flowers blossoming beneath the ice.

Khan’s silence is heavy and laden with guilt and anger and every violent wish he’d collected for humanity, save for her, infuriated that the workings of the Continent continued to rupture his own portion of the world.

     “Maen saov, they will tear you apart,” a hiss more relevant to serpents than to elves, leaning back against his makeshift throne in his makeshift court, regarding her with a look to erode mountains. Any apathy that had rested within his words flitted away and he missed it instantly—how unkingly, he thought, bestowing his emotions like rags for the air to take. While true that his people had been unkind, he had not hesitated to reproach any act of disdain toward her, intending for his acceptance to aid in the swaying of opinion.

Yet, when the notion of a human invading the last safe haven arose, how could he have blamed them?

–That isn’t it, he knows, watching her move, listening to her speak. 

     “What power could you possibly have in the court of the White Flame? Ywneud te eisit'h te'l stráede deireádh aen ichaer?” Ire still misplaced, yet molten on his tongue, “Your disservice is assuming that you can enter my court and then simply– leave.”

      His words cut deeper than she cared to admit. It was obvious now, he was her weakness. He could wound with mere words now in a way he’d been unable to when first they met. Somewhere between the long nights and far too short days his opinion, his thoughts of her, had become something that she wanted, craved even. Fox tried for those none too often smiles, like rays of sunshine after a season of storms, and found her heart filled when they came upon her. Up until that point, every King, elven or man, had only been another person lucky enough to be born under the crown. He changed her mind. He embodied what it was to be a King, even if at times, he was the King of Nothing, the Dead End King.

      “I did pretty well for myself here,” she raised her chin in mock defiance. “If the roles were reversed, I’m sure the Court of the White Flame would say the same of you.” He did tear her apart though. Shred by shred, piece by piece, until she left everything she was to him. If she left, a majority her would stay behind. Here, near to him.

      “Power? Do you say this because I am a woman or because you think me without merit?” She swallowed, pushing down the lump that had grown in her throat. “Men are not as complicated as they like think they are, their power is an illusion. It will do nothing to keep their throats from being slit if need be.” The willingness to do what must be done was the only power that mattered to her when it came to people like that. To people who played war from the high hills on horseback or from the safety of their throne rooms.

      Her heart faltered. “You mean to stop me? To keep me here? Am I to be your prisoner, because I dare to do as I wish, that wretched human trait?” She paused, trying to master her breathing, her emotions. “I am not of your people, as they are so kind as to remind me given the chance. Staying here only does harm to you, I cannot help. I feel myself standing still, watching the world turn, watching as more and more people die. You may be right, I may be torn apart, but is it not enough to try?” 

[starwrittenfates-a]

@caelmewedd liked for a starter (for Avallac'h)

Riannon had been warmly welcomed to the kingdom of the Aen Elle elves. At last Lara could finally calm down and focus on other matters, like her upcoming wedding to Avallac'h. She had woken early in the morning, enjoying the peace and quiet as Riannon slept in her cradle. Spending this time to think, the princess also enjoyed the sunrise. Cerro was down the halls of the palace, away in her own room. Of course Lara was going to make her best friend her maid of honor and help her pick out a dress.

Feeling like her stomach had butterflies dancing around inside, the mother glanced to her child, noticing green eyes peering back at her. Riannon had awaken. And then there was a knock at the door. Lara gently lifted her up into her arms before going to answer it. "Ah, Crevan. Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

[numinousdread-a]

          𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 emerged from the brush, the leaves sighing and reaching forth for the elf’s touch as if yearning to be spun into the magic weaving around her. She glowed in her own right from it, seen only by the keen eyes of other elves and a would-be powerful human sorcerer. Her eyes fluttered from the bundle of herbs in her hand to the sudden appearance of a figure before her, robed in a cloak red as rubies. She hesitated a moment, caution in her green eyes and furrowed brow, before surmising he was no immediate threat.  “  -- You startled me, stranger ! You must be lost to come this far from the road to Redania . . .  ”

@esoteriks​​ was summoned !

[elderbloodcarrier]

Lara felt her heart skip a beat from fear at the mention of her name being part of history. She was hoping he hadn’t caught onto her, and she appeared to still be safe…for now.

Listening to him speak of himself, she smiled, moved by his view of the world and life itself. She remembered being so optimistic once. His next question took her off guard, making Lara pause, and frown a little, as if deep in thought but also stumped at the answer to it. In another world and age (or so it seemed), Lara thought she knew the answer so easily. After all, her life was predestined for her before birth. Her only role and expectations in the endless wheel of fate was to give birth to a special child and save all the elves…but then, at some point, she began to question it all, which only led to disaster, as one could not defy fate.

But now, after all her experiences and tragedies, what moved Lara? Where was she being guided? It was a great question, but one she didn’t know the answer to. She hadn’t even visited her home — the world of the Aen Elle — or seen her people…her own father in centuries. “I’m…not sure, Jaskier. All I know is I’m not the same person I was anymore. I’ve changed, but I don’t know if it’s for the better or worse. I’m hoping to find the answer to that question someday, and then maybe, I’ll find my way back home…if that’s where I’m supposed to end up.” She let out a slight sigh, glancing up at him. “What do you think happens if one tries to defy fate and destiny?”

elderbloodcarrier​:

She couldn’t very well give out her full name. After all, she had been hearing the stories being spoken about her by both elves and humans alike. Although both sides were never really quite accurate…

“I’m Lara…” she said, clearing her throat after. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jaskier. So, where do we expect the muses to be taking you next? With everything going on out in the world, it’s always nice to come across a bard inspiring hope in the hearts of people.”

Curious to know if he had heard the stories about her, Lara didn’t doubt it being possible. It was another reason she tended to lay low, at least on both sides. Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal was either an evil witch to some or a tragic victim to others…but most thought she had died without realizing she was still walking among them, very much alive.

"Lara," Jaskier repeated, testing the name on his lips. "A beautiful name of history."

He chuckled softly, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. "As for the muses, well, they're a fickle bunch, but I believe they have some grand plans in store for me. I travel wherever the winds of inspiration blow, seeking stories to tell and songs to sing."

Jaskier tilted his head slightly, studying Lara's face with a keen interest. "And what about you, Lara? What moves you? Where are you being guided?” 

[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't part 12: the hen ichaer

i realize i've been mentioning the hen ichaer without really explaining it, and for that i apologize. but without further ado, let's go

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

general

the hen ichaer is basically a magical gene that originated with the elven sorceress, scholar, and princess, lara dorren aep shiadhal

it can lie dormant or inactive for generations, but when someone is an activated carrier of the gene, they are called a source

sources have an insane capability for magic, it's so intense that without instruction they are a huge danger to themselves and/or others. remember pavetta's betrothal feast? hurricanes should not happen indoors

same thing with ciri's sonic scream.

obviously, the hen ichaer is highly weaponize-able, but it's difficult to put this into theory since the magic is so strong that it can easily kill the person who carries it

most important is that the hen ichaer can open ard gaeth, the gates between worlds. you may remember that the witcher is a multiverse, and the continent is just one of countless worlds

aen elle

the aen elle, elves who live in another world called tir ná lia, controlled at least one gate that they used to get slaves from other worlds

however, this was before the hen ichaer was seriously studied. unicorns are also capable of opening ard gaeth, and were present in tir ná lia, so the aen elle would kidnap them to be used as their world-hopping-genocide key. yeah, the aen elle are seriously fucked

the king of the aen elle was named auberon muircetach, and he was very well known for his wars with the unicorns, who weren't too keen on being enslaved for the purpose of conquering other worlds

the hen ichaer came into play when auberon noticed that his daughter, lara dorren, had pretty intense magical abilities. like, ard gaeth opening abilities.

auberon, lara, and a few other elves began studying the gene and trying to figure out how it works and how to use it.

through this study is how we got the title aen saevherne, which is used to distinguish an elven mage with extensive knowledge of history, science, magic, and, most importantly, the elder blood.

both lara and auberon were aen saevherne, as was lara's husband-to-be, avallac'h, and avallac'h's foster son, caranthir ar-feiniel

ithlinne's prophecy

ithlinne aegli aep aevenien was an elven prophet known for her incredibly dark prophecies that she delivered at totally random times. how dark were they? ithlinne's prophecies were almost exclusively about the death of all humanity and/or the end of the world. she was fun at parties.

anyway, when we talk about ithlinne we really only mean one specific prophecy, aen ithlinnespeath. to be confusing it's usually referred to as ithlinne's prophecy

here's the prophecy itself:

Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame. Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves...

what does that mean? well, the white chill (aka the white frost) is a massive ice age that has been approaching the continent for years. don't believe me? the white frost has destroyed countless worlds in the past, and it literally cannot be stopped. the only way to save the world is by the power of the hen ichaer.

here's a perfectly frightening visual of the white frost

ithlinne didn't elaborate on the how, but we now know that the only to survive the white frost is by finding a new world and massively evacuating the continent through ard gaeth, which can only be opened by the power of the hen ichaer.

genetics

clearly, the hen ichaer is important enough to literally save, or end, the world, but the aen elle did a famously terrible job of studying it. like, you'd think they'd be good at that, but no. to their credit, it is a bit complicated

first, there are multiple types of elder blood genes, the main gene, the latent gene, and the activator gene. to actually show the powers of the hen ichaer, someone would need to either have one latent and one activator, or the main gene.

let's go back to secondary school biology for a second, remember punnet squares? these fuckers

the letters in a punnet square represent a genotype, or the two alleles that are inherited from the parents. phenotypes, on the other hand, are what you see on the outside. for example, a genotype would be Aa but a phenotype would be brown eyes.

while the main gene is a simple dominant allele (shown by a capital letter on a punnet square), both the latent and activator genes are semi-dominant, meaning that when they meet they create a new phenotype: the innate magical ability that makes you a source.

it gets a little less scientific here so bear with me; this new phenotype is so powerful that it sometimes creates a whole new genotype. so instead of having one activator gene and one latent gene, the two would merge and you'd be left with only one (very powerful) main gene. this is the only single gene that actually has magic and it's a dominant gene, so you only need to have one to have the power.

but, the latent and activator genes don't always combine. you still have the full powers when they stay separate, but it is then less likely to pass the hen ichaer your children.

complicated? very much so. but in practice it's a lot easier.

for simplicity's sake i'll call the activator gene g/a, latent gene g/L, main gene g/m and a regular nonmutated gene g/r. to be a source, the genes you inherit would be g/a g/L, but they may combine to be just g/m. your average person would be g/r g/r and a carrier would be either g/a g/r or g/L g/r.

clearly, this makes tracking it pretty messy, since generations of people can be carriers without having a single source

tracking the hen ichaer

for now, let's do what those elven sages couldn't and track then hen ichaer, starting with lara dorren

eventually, lara met an exceptionally talented human mage, cregennan of lod, and they were lab partners (oh my god they were lab partners) in the study of the hen ichaer.

eventually, lara met an exceptionally talented human mage, cregennan of lod, and they were lab partners (oh my god they were lab partners) in the study of the hen ichaer.

for all the studying, lara and cregennan's own genes have always been something of a mystery. elven mages don't tend to have any issues with using themselves as lab rats, so it's entirely possible that lara and cregennan, knowingly or not, mutated their own genes in their research.

ultimately, it doesn't matter what lara and cregennan's genes originally were. by some happy little accident, the two eventually ended up with at least one activator gene and at least one latent gene between them.

later, when lara and cregennan made their own happy little accident, riannon, she inherited one of each gene (g/a g/L), making her a source. however, riannon's genes did not combine as the elves expected, which made her a little harder to study.

riannon eventually met king goidemar of temeria (g/r g/r), and they had two children named fiona and amavet. i'll start with fiona, who the aen elle managed to figure out had the latent gene, making her g/L r

fiona ended up having a baby with king coram II of cintra (g/r g/r), they named him corbett, and he inherited fiona's g/L and one of coram's g/r.

the aen elle lost track of the hen ichaer when they studied riannon's other kid amavet. see, amavet was kind of a whore. he had twins, muriel and crispin, with the married countess anna kameny. obviously, these children weren't legitimate, and when the angry count kameny murdered amavet a few months later, he was officially childless

the elves did, however, manage to figure out that amavet had riannon's g/a gene and goidemar's g/r gene. anna kameny was just g/r g/r, and crispin ended up being g/r g/r as well. destiny does favour the hen ichaer, but sometimes it's just not meant to be. muriel, on the other hand, did inherit her father's activator gene and was g/a g/r.

let's hop back to corbett, fiona and coram's g/L g/r son. he and princess elen of kaedwen (g/r g/r) had a son, dagorad, who got corbett's latent gene and one of elen's regular ones, meaning he was g/L g/r

muriel married robert of garramore (g/r g/r), and their daughter adalia, the dramatically posed lady right there, had the same genetic combination as her mother, g/a g/r

this is where it gets even weirder

the lovely adalia married dagorad. her second cousin. they shared riannon as their great grandmother. feel better in the fact that it was not intentional, adalia's mother, muriel, was not officially riannon's granddaughter. no one would have even known, but adalia's g/a met up with dagorad's g/L in their daughter, calanthe

for the first time since riannon, the hen ichaer was back, and calanthe's parents genes combined to give her g/m g/r

while it took generations of destiny and accidental incest to make the hen ichaer happen again, now that calanthe had the main gene there was a 50% chance she would pass it to her child, which, of course, she did

calanthe and her husband roegner (g/r g/r) had pavetta, who inherited the g/m from her mother. no one knew about this until pavetta literally created a source hurricane, and was already pregnant

pavetta and duny's (g/r g/r) daughter, ciri, inherited the main gene from her mother and was a source.

sources

it's important to note that a source is not necessarily an incredibly powerful sorcerer, merely a person who has the genetic predisposition required to channel very intense magic

sources, like anyone else, can be bad students, allergic to potions, or just generally averse to magic on all levels except heredity. there is also no way to guarantee that even the most willing source will be good at using magic, in fact it's far more common that they will be really really bad at it. sources are extra susceptible to the chaotic state of magic in the world, and many end up pretty seriously harmed by it.

magical talent tends to make itself known in very emotional situations, like the death of a parent or a war. the same applies for sources, but they have an extra rule: their full powers are off limits until they lose their virginities

now, netflix has not mentioned that rule to be true or false, but i'm going to think of it as strictly book/game/etc canon, because ciri is 10 years old when netflix shows her using her source powers for the first time

the virginity rule makes things even more complicated, as customs about premarital sex are pretty strict in the witcher world (well, among nobility), and the dudes didn't seem to have fast reflexes. what i'm saying is that getting pregnant the first time you had sex was not uncommon. sources couldn't even use, and likely weren't aware of, their powers until they were already passing them on to another generation.

and even still, there is no guarantee that someone who is a source will ever actually show their powers. calanthe had the genetics, but she wasn't a mage. what happened? we don't really know. after calanthe married, cintra was pretty peaceful; there were no invasions or massive upheavals that could put enough stress on her to show her powers. plus, her parents didn't know she had any magical powers, so they didn't give her the training that would develop them, and she was a very level headed person who would likely be unaffected by many of the things that would make another source lose their shit.

[theeternalsun]

"We're here to stay."

Of Monsters and Men ( accepting ) , @saevherne

Who is we? Is it us, our people? Or the people that linger in these lands like shadows? The people that protect the one that has the blood of Lara Dorren? 

She wanted to believe that it was the former. She wanted to understand, to believe that he meant that they as a people, the aen elle, were there to stay. As it stood? She held onto that trust line as if it was her own life line. It was hard, that line dug deep into her hands and sometimes she could not discern if it was really helping her, providing the hope that their people needed or if it was pushing them further and further away from it. Scarred hands curl against the fragile scars of her palms, it was not often that she removed the armoured gloves. They open as dark eyes move up to him, her body rises from where she sat.

She stood slightly behind him, heavy black robes covering the sharp armour. She sniffs as dark eyes move to look at the white outside, the skin under her eyes darker and adding to the bitter expression on her face. She gives him a hum as a response, hands moving to the curve on her own back. Chin dips down, the air around them was cold or perhaps she had been out there for far too long and the ice had already found its place in her bones.

It had been years since she had felt her hands warm, so long that she sometimes wondered if they were even real.

[elderbloodcarrier]

Cover your ears. Keep your head down. Don't stay in one place for too long.

It had practically become a part of Lara's life for these last centuries. However, just as she was getting ready to leave the inn, the wonderful sound of music caught her attention. She was drawn in, seeing the bard sing his song.

Once it was over, she couldn't help but make her way over, careful not to reveal her elven nature. "You have been blessed by the muses. That much is obvious!"

@stellanimarum liked for a starter (for Jaskier!)

[elderbloodcarrier]

"Forget the expectations everyone has for you, Ciri. Trust in yourself and follow your heart. Your power comes from your emotions. From who you are." She knows that might sound cheesy, but Lara wants her to hear these words. To be comforted. To know that she is enough just as she is. Sure enough, her adoptive family probably already reminds her of it, but Lara can't help but want to take care of others.

Moving onto a different subject and with curiosity getting the better of her, Lara can't help but ask questions. She wants to know more about her descendant after all. "So...tell me, what is it like being around Witcher's?"

starwrittenfates     — ​     𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀 ,

Lara looked upon her descendant with a sadness and guilt in her heart. She knew what the burden was like being of Elder Blood. The expectations thrown upon you. The weight of the world suddenly in your hands, decided by your actions, but everyone telling you how to go about it. She had endured it enough from her own people.

It took Lara a long time to learn that despite her people having the best intentions, they went about things in the wrong way. And things always turned out bad when the bird forced in a cage wasn’t allowed to fly.

Maybe it was time to tell her descendant what she needed to hear all those centuries ago. “If it’s one thing no one understands about the Elder Blood, it’s that we control our own destiny. The power to do so is literally in our veins! For us, destiny is not a pre-determined course we can’t escape. It’s decided by the choices we make ourselves, not what others make for us.”

Cirilla  Riannon,   elder  blood  descendent,   mostly  just  can’t  fathom  that  it  takes  years   [ probably  longer ]   to  grasp  the  power.    She  just  needs  to  be  able  to  do  something  and  then  do  something  with  ease  right  away.   It’s  certainly  not  that  Ciri’s  power  hungry,   no,   she  just  wants  to  use  all  this  for  good.    CHANGE  THE  WORLD.    Save  the  world.

Ciri  leans  back  in  her  chair,  adjusting  just  the  slightest  so  the  sword  on  her  back  is  more  comfortable.   One  leg  crosses  over  the  other,   hands  just  rest  on  her  lap.    She  simply  smiles.    The  enjoyment  of  free  will  is  surely  shared  by  everyone  –  but  sometimes  destiny  does  happen.   Whether  it’s  because  it  was  supposed  to  or  it  was  allowed  is  a  grey  area  nobody  will  be  able  to  figure  out.   Geralt’s  right  too.   Geralt  may  have  initially  been  there  for  destiny,   but  he  stayed  a  significant  part  of  her  life  because   HE   wanted  to.    Ciri  nods.

“   —   i  believe  so.   at  least,   i  hope  so.   ”