#welcome back ciri

[slaaneshisass]

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 3 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: Geralt returns to see his princess once again. Only this time he is not alone and after a year without communication he does not know if he will still be welcome.

Warnings: slow burn, grumpy x sunshine (or more like grumpy x disney princess lol), miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, me trying to write domestic stuff, mentions of past trauma (for both Ciri and the protagonist/reader), Geralt Ciri and reader being a family, canon typical violence, my attempt at creating an original monster, some very long dialogues (sorry! I hallucinated half of the story and I couldn’t leave any part out apparently), FEM READER (the protagonist is referred to as woman/she-her/princess/sunshine)

Let me know if I missed anything! (I definitely did, I've been writing this part for so long there's probably a lot of stuff I forgot lol so just lmk)

English is not my first language

Word count: 21.800 (I'm not even sorry)

Notes: I’m sorry it took me so long to post this! I promise you I’ve been working on it since the moment I posted the last part but everytime I wrote a scene a new idea came to mind and I just had to add it so here we are. That moment with Ciri wasn’t in my original idea but I just had to include it cause that poor girl needs a hug! Besides, it was a nice way to explore a little bit more about the protagonist background 

I have a few ideas for the next part but please send me yours! (SEE THE END OF THE POST FOR MORE)

PART 1 || PART 2

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The cat was the first to sense his presence. Even before he knocked on the door or the sound of the horse's footsteps echoed through the hut, the cat was already meowing and pacing back and forth, going from the door to the window and back to the door. He always did that when he felt Geralt was near. He was possibly the only cat on the continent that didn't hiss and hide in the presence of a witcher, quite the opposite in fact. The feline knew he was good and trustworthy because she trusted him, so he ignored all his instincts and gave Geralt a chance. They became friends almost immediately —even though the witcher used to pretend otherwise. The cat loved Geralt as much as his owner, and had missed him almost more than she had.

More than a year had passed. A year without news of him, without a visit or a letter to let her know he was well. A year of uncertainty in which the mind of the poor princess had done nothing but think about what might have happened to him. On good days, she accepted with a broken heart that he was not going to visit her again after the disaster that turned out to be their travel together. It pained her to think that she had missed her chance with him. She felt alone and lost, but that was better than thinking that his absence was because something really bad had happened to him. Dark were the days when she woke up wrapped in sweat, with images of Geralt bloodied fixed in her mind. She had lost count of how many nightmares she had had about it, how many different monsters had been responsible for ending his life and taking away the man who made her happy and gave her purpose. So when that was the alternative, convincing herself that he had simply stopped loving her was more bearable to her poor tormented mind.

“It's not him, darling. He's not coming back here” she spoke to her cat, bending down to stroke his head. The feline meowed, as if to answer her, and jumped up onto the window sill. She let out a tired sigh and pulled back the curtains to open the latch to let the animal out.

It was then that she heard the murmurs and footsteps of a horse in the distance. The cat meowed once more and jumped out of the window, running into the darkness of the night. She followed him with her eyes, looking for him in the shadows to try to find out what it was that had him so agitated. In the distance, moving through the bushes and trees, she recognized the unique white hair of the man who had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past year. She ran to the door, flinging it open and taking a few steps outside to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

Geralt was there, not looking a day older than the last time she had seen him. She noticed that he didn't look hurt or in bad shape, so she couldn't help but wonder what was the reason for him showing up at her house after such a long time of complete silence. Though her questions were pushed aside when his eyes made contact with hers. All the pain, fear and uncertainty she had accumulated for almost two years dissolved the moment she felt his warm gaze rest on her figure. Her heart began to beat faster than it had in a long time, her stomach, full of butterflies, was twisting and turning because of her nerves.

She realized then that she had no idea how to react to his presence. What was she supposed to say to him? Was she supposed to pretend that she hadn't had the worst year of her life? Was it worth scolding him for his absence when he had finally decided to come back? Happiness and anger began to fight inside her with every step the witcher took towards her. Memories of them being happy were followed by images of the nights she had cried herself to sleep because of him, creating a conflicting narrative that did nothing but confuse her.

“Geralt...” She called his name when he was close enough to hear her. “What are you doing here?” The question sounded more accusatory than she expected, but she didn't have time to take it back —or double down on her complaints— because he stepped aside, revealing the figure of a young girl. It took the woman a moment to focus her gaze on the child since she was almost entirely hidden behind Geralt's broad shoulders. She had long blonde hair and pale skin, though her nose and cheeks were reddened by the cold wind of the approaching winter. In her hands she carried her cat, who purred happily at the gentle caresses she gave him.

The confusion about her own feelings was soon replaced by confusion about the girl and her relationship with Geralt. Her eyes traveled back and forth a couple of times, trying to piece together the reasons behind her presence and the explanation as to why Geralt was traveling with the girl. She couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, so it was hard to imagine that he had decided to travel with her of his own accord. Not after the things he had said to her on their journey together. She thought then that perhaps it was someone he had saved along the way, a young princess he had to rescue from the clutches of a monster or a poor girl who had gotten lost.

Whoever it was, Geralt didn't feel the need to tell her. “We need a safe place to stay.” Was the only explanation he provided her. She didn't insist either, ultimately she didn't need a reason to let him into her home. She stepped aside without a second thought, making room for them to enter and making sure to lock the door behind her back.

“You know, for someone that claims to not have friends you sure do have a lot.” She laughed and Geralt gave her a rather unamused look. “Who's this beautiful young lady?”

The girl looked up at Geralt, wide eyes looking up at him for his approval. The witcher nodded his head, a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible. She only picked up on it because she knew Geralt so well and was already used to that kind of reaction, which told her that the girl knew him very well too. It was as if they communicated without speaking, just a quick glance was enough and they knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was impressive and she hadn't seen anything like it before, especially not with Geralt. It only increased her curiosity even more.

“I'm Cirilla.” The girl introduced herself with a shy smile, lowering the cat from her arms.

It took her a few seconds to understand why that name seemed familiar. When reality hit her, wide eyes flew to Geralt with an expression of confusion and surprise mixed together. He had once told her about the feast Jaskier had dragged him to and the way the event had ended. The last time they had talked about his child of surprise he seemed to want nothing to do with that matter. When she had presented her concerns to him he had told her that he had assured the child's family that he would not claim her. And honestly she had thought it was for the best. With the way Geralt approached life she couldn't imagine him raising a child.  That's why she didn't understand why he was now showing up at her house with her. What had made him change his mind?

She managed to compose herself quickly from her surprise, her eyes returning to Cirilla almost immediately so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. “That's a beautiful name, Cirilla!” She complimented her with a smile. “I'm sure you must be cold! I can run you a hot bath and then we can eat something. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you!” Cirilla's eyes lit up at the mention of the bath, desperate to feel the hot water against her cold skin. Since she had met Geralt her situation had improved considerably, but the cold outdoors was still something she was having trouble getting used to.

After leaving Cirilla alone in the bathroom with everything she needed to clean herself and restore her tired muscles, the young woman returned to the table where Geralt was sitting, ready to answer the thousands of questions he knew were swirling around in her head. Some of them —especially the ones about Ciri— were easy to answer, but others... he did not even want to think about it.

“I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with her.” she said, dropping into the chair across from him. “What made you change your mind?”

Geralt hesitated before answering. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her that the last few months he had spent running away from her had been the most miserable of his life. That every day he spent away from her was agony. That he woke up hearing her laughter in the wind, missing the warmth of her body, longing to smell the perfume of her hair. He believed it was best for both of them if he stayed away. They could never be together and persisting in that fantasy would only hurt them. He thought he could do it, that he could forget her if he spent enough time away from her charms. He knew it wouldn't be easy and that it would hurt, but he was convinced that it would be the best for both of them in the long run.

However, months passed and the emptiness in his chest only grew heavier with each passing day. Geralt couldn't close his eyes without seeing her smile. He couldn't sleep without dreaming of having her by his side. He couldn't see a deer in the forest or a rabbit hopping around without thinking of her, of how happy he would be in her company, of the way she would take the animal in her hands and make him stop to play with it. His days were gray and dull, cold even under the hottest summer. Without her —without the promise of feeling her hands on his body or the hope of hearing her sweet voice call his name one more time—  life lost some of its luster.

He realized then that he could never forget her. She was the woman he loved, the only one who occupied his mind and heart, the only one who could make him seriously question his future as a witcher. She was his destiny, their paths had crossed for a reason that day in the forest. They were bound together by ties stronger than their own will, so there was no point in fighting against it. It was not worth running away from destiny if the only thing he gained was to deepen the emptiness that pressed on his chest. And she was his destiny, as well as Ciri was. He realized that if he wanted to stop feeling so miserable he had to stop fighting against what he could not change and face what destiny wanted from him.

But instead of admitting his feelings and being vulnerable in front of her, Geralt chose the easy answer: “Her kingdom was invaded. All her family was killed. I just couldn't leave her alone after that. She's in danger, she needs my protection.”

“So why bring her here?” She snapped back at him, sounding harsher than intended.

She wasn't upset with his presence, in fact she was glad to know that he still saw her home as a refuge where he was willing to bring Cirilla to make sure she was protected. All she wanted to know was why it had taken him so long to show up. Was he angry with her? Was their relationship broken beyond repair? Had he been preoccupied with his travels? Had he been avoiding her? Did he still love her? Those questions had been eating her up inside all these months. She thought she would never see Geralt again, so she had tried hard not to think about it. But he was there with her now and she needed those answers in order to ease her mind.

“I'm bringing her to Kaer Morhen with me, she'll be safe there. But she was getting tired and cold and since we were close I thought... We will leave in the morning if our stay causes any trouble for you.” Geralt assured her, trying not to cause a disturbance.

He should have figured that he couldn't just reappear in her life and wait for her to welcome him back with open arms. She had every right to throw him out if she wanted to, he had behaved like a complete bastard. But when he decided to seek refuge in her hut, Geralt wasn't thinking of him or her, but of Ciri. But now he understood that maybe he was asking too much of her. He was so used to using her home as a shelter that he didn't consider that the doors might be closed to him one day.

“I don't want you to leave. I want you to tell me why it took you so long to come back. I want you to tell me that there is a good reason for leaving me in the dark all this time, wondering what could have happened to you and if I was ever going to see your face again.”

“Sunshine, I...” Geralt tried to respond, but stopped in mid-sentence. He couldn't find the words to express how he felt, to explain to her how stupid he had been and how sorry he was for his mistake in a way that wouldn't make things worse. He didn't want to hurt her, even though he knew it was a little late for that.

She felt her heart squeeze at the mention of that nickname. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing his voice calling her by that name until that moment. It reminded her of the simpler, happier times they had shared, of long nights spent sleepless as they talked about life. It reminded her of how much she loved being called that by him and how her heart had skipped a beat the first time he had used it. She never knew what had prompted him to call her that in the first place —and she'd always been too embarrassed to ask—, but she was glad he had. It made her feel special, loved.

“Forget it.” she said as she noticed the internal conflict reflecting in Geralt's eyes. She didn't know what was making him so hesitant, but she began to think that maybe she didn't want to hear the answer to his question. Maybe it was better to live in ignorance after all. Maybe living on happy memories and moments that would never get back was better than living in harsh reality. All this time she had thought the uncertainty had been the worst, but seeing the doubt in the witcher's yellow eyes made her think that maybe the truth could be worse. She didn't know if she was ready to know that he didn't love her.

“Tell me about Cirilla. You said she is in danger, why?” She sought to change the subject, desperate to find a topic of conversation that would quell those thoughts.

“There's people after her, a black knight that has been following her since the fall of Cintra. She dreams about him every night.” Geralt explained, remembering the way the little girl tossed and turned in her sleep because of the nightmares.

“I can give her something to help with the nightmares so at least she can have one good night of sleep.”

“That's not all... she has magic.”

“Like her mother?” the woman asked curiously. She still remembered the details Geralt had told her about the feast that night where his and Cirilla's destiny had been linked. The magic that the young girl's mother had demonstrated was something she had never even heard of before in her life.

“I don't know what the extent of her power is, she doesn't talk much about it.”

“And you want me to do all the work for you, huh?” She guessed before Geralt could even hint at it. It was a long shot, but if anyone was going to be able to break through the barrier Ciri had created around her to protect herself, it was her. People always tended to open up to her, her sweet and charming nature sparked trust in even the most reclusive and distrustful person.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just... she's scared, I understand that, but I can't protect her if she doesn't tell me the truth. I thought that perhaps you could get through to her better than I can. You have magic too, maybe she'll be more inclined to talk about it with someone that understands what she's going through.”

“I'll see what I can do.” She promised him, unable to refuse to help a frightened little girl who had lost everything.

The young woman couldn't help but notice the protective way in which Geralt spoke of Ciri. She wasn't sure how long they had known each other, but from the way he cared for her she would say quite a bit. The witcher's trust wasn't easy to gain —it had taken her a while even after saving his life—, but the girl seemed to have done it in record time. It was heartwarming to see the way they acted around each other. She always looked at him before answering some of the questions the young woman asked him during dinner, as if she needed Geralt's confirmation to reveal certain information about her. It was clear that they trusted each other, in a way reminiscent of a father and daughter. Which made Ciri's reluctance to open up to him even stranger.

It was strange to see Geralt in such a position. He always acted so tough, like a lone wolf who didn't need anyone's company. Seeing the way he cared for Ciri —how he urged her to take the sleeping potion she offered her, warning her how important it was for her to get a good night's sleep— was almost jarring. Even in her wildest fantasies she hadn't imagined Geralt being a father. Now that she saw it, though, she liked it. It suited him. She only wished he had given himself the chance to explore that side of him much sooner. She couldn't deny that it pained her to know that she had always been right, the two of them could have worked out if only he had let it happen.

After they had dined and chatted for a long time, she, like the good hostess she was, escorted Ciri to the extra room she had unoccupied, telling her that it would be her space for as long as she wished to stay there. “Any friend of Geralt is a friend of mine. You're welcome to stay for as long as you want.” She smiled sweetly, trying hard to show the girl that she could trust her. Ciri thanked her before she closed the door behind her, making sure she knew she appreciated her hospitality.

When she left the girl's room, she didn't find Geralt anywhere. She didn't worry too much about it, assuming he would be out with Roach or securing the perimeter of the property to make sure Ciri could get a peaceful night of uninterrupted sleep. She let him do his thing, opting to tidy up the house and get ready for bed. She waited for him in bed, one last candle burning as she read a book. She assumed he would come to sleep with her as they had always done. Now that Ciri was occupying the only free room, the other alternative was to sleep on the floor. But time passed, the night grew dark and cold, and Geralt did not come. So she put on a cloak and went outside to look for him.

It didn't take her long to find him, she just circled the property and stumbled upon him in the makeshift stable she had at the side of her garden. He was sitting on a pile of hay, chatting with Roach while stroking the animal's fur. He had his back against the wooden wall and seemed to be settled there, as if he had no intention of moving. When she approached, he fell silent, so she couldn't hear what he was saying to the horse, although she had a good idea.

“What are you doing out here? It's freezing!” She said, crossing her arms under her cloak to keep her body warm. While it hadn't yet snowed for the first time, there was an icy dew in the air that looked a lot like it. And while she understood that Geralt had a higher tolerance for extreme weather thanks to his mutations, that didn't mean she liked the idea of him being cold in the stable when there was a warm bed waiting for him inside.

“It's not that cold.” he replied and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing for a moment that he truly didn't feel the cold. She had been outside for a couple of minutes and could already feel the cold starting to dig into her bones. “I was taking care of Roach.”

“She seems fine. Come inside before you freeze to death.”

“You know that won't happen.”

“Geralt, please.”

It was a gentle plea, with a hint of desperation. All she wanted was to have Geralt by her side during the night again. She wanted to lie down and find that she felt the same comfort she always had, that his presence made her feel as safe and comforted as she remembered. She wanted to feel his strong arms wrap around her at night and know that the doubts were only in her head and completely unfounded. She wanted to know that he still loved her and that it had all been a big misunderstanding. She was desperate to find a way to move on, to let go of all the pain that had haunted her. But she was terrified to talk about it, so all she had left was that. If Geralt didn't accept her offer then she knew all was lost.

“I don't want to impose...”

“You're not,” she interrupted him before he could blurt out any excuses. “I'm asking you to come inside with me.”

Geralt couldn't refuse that request. Even though things between them were weird, he still couldn't resist her charms. There was something in the way she looked at him, a glint of desperation growing in her eyes, that made it impossible for him to say no to her. It gave him hope. He thought she was angry with him, and she was, but inside her still burned the flame of love they had once shared. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe he could still make things right.

He followed her back into the house, pulling off his wet cloak and muddy boots before entering the room. It looked exactly as he remembered it, not a single object out of place. It was as if time had not passed. The flowers on the window sill were still as colorful and full of life as in the spring, the books stacked in the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed did not seem to have changed their order. The air smelled of her, that intoxicating mixture of floral perfume and wet earth that he had come to miss so much.

However, the reality of the situation hit him as he laid his head on the pillow. There was no goodnight kiss or silly talk before bed. She simply laid down on his side of the bed and settled down with her back to him before blowing out the candle that lit the room. They were only inches apart, but Geralt had never felt so far away from her before. Even when he was miles away, purposely avoiding her, he still felt close to her. How could he not when images of her wouldn't leave his mind? He kept seeing her in his dreams, reliving their happy moments every time he closed his eyes, fantasizing about hearing her laughter and feeling the warmth of her body once more. But now that he had her by his side, he felt nothing but a cold emptiness pressing on his chest.

He wanted to reach out to touch her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to wrap her in his arms and never let her go again, but he didn't know if he could —or if he should. He understood her hesitation, she had every right to be angry with him after the way he had reacted. He wanted to give her some space, some time so they could get their relationship back on track. He didn't want to pressure her, so he kept his hands to himself even though it hurt. He had to think of her first. He had no right to suddenly come back into her life after he had unilaterally decided to leave her, and demand the same treatment from her as before.

But what Geralt didn't know was that she wasn't avoiding him on purpose. She wanted to run into his arms, curl up on his chest and sleep wrapped in his warmth. But she didn't feel like she was the one who had to make the first move. Her feelings for him had never changed. She had been the one who had tried to make their relationship blossom. She had tried so hard to show him that they could have a future together. Geralt had been the one who had run away without explanation, so he should be the one to make the first move if he wanted to. She didn't want to pressure him, to make him feel like he had to do or say things he didn't want to just to protect her feelings. If he reached out to her, she needed to know that he was doing it because he really wanted to.

That was why his distance hurt her so much. Clearly there was something broken in their relationship and the most heartbreaking thing of it all was that she didn't know what to do to fix it —or even if she could.

The morning brought more pleasant weather conditions with it. The silent tension that haunted Geralt and the princess disappeared almost completely, mainly because they both sought to focus their attention on Ciri to avoid dealing with their own problems. Looking for an excuse that would give her the opportunity to spend more time with the girl, she asked Ciri to accompany her on a walk through the forest to replenish her collection of medicinal herbs. The winter was fast approaching and soon there would be nothing left but the plants she grew stored inside her house. Ciri agreed and Geralt joined them under the guise of hunting their lunch, although he had the decency to keep his distance so that they could get to know each other better.

It was a beautiful morning. Even though the autumn sun was not strong enough to counteract the cold breeze, there was no freezing mist that morning and that was already a reason to celebrate. Besides, Ciri was no longer wearing wet clothes and was well rested and fed, so she felt capable of accomplishing anything. The young woman guided her through the forest, telling her the details of the plants they needed to collect —their appearance, their medicinal uses, the potions and ointments she created. Ciri listened to her intently, fascinated and intrigued with the new information she was being presented with, wondering if she would be able to accomplish something like this someday.

“So you're a mage then?” Ciri asked, looking up at the woman walking beside her smelling a white flower.

“Not exactly.” she replied, earning a look of confusion from the girl. “I have an aptitude for magic, but I wasn't officially trained. I was taught by a healer everything I know, but magic is far more complex than what I know or the things I can do.” She hastened to explain as she knelt down in the dirt to pick up a couple of valerian leaves and put them in her basket.

“Is that how you met Geralt? Through your powers?”

“My abilities did play a part in the story of how we met, yes, but not in the way you're probably thinking.” The princess lost herself in her memories for a moment, images of that day flashing before her eyes. It felt so close and yet so far away at the same time. It was amazing to look back and see how far she had come both as a person, as well as their relationship. “He didn't tell you about us, huh?”

“He said you were an old friend, but didn't answer any of my questions. He's not particularly chatty.” Ciri said with a chuckle and she couldn't help but laugh too. If there was anyone who knew how difficult it could be to get a topic of conversation out of Geralt, it was her. She could almost imagine the girl's effusive curiosity running into the witcher's frustrating monosyllabic responses, just like it used to happen to her.

"Oh trust me, I know."

Geralt could hear them talking, but decided not to intervene. Instead he watched from a distance as they laughed together, feeling happy that they were getting along. Not that he thought it would be difficult, Ciri was a lovely girl and his sunshine was one of the sweetest and nicest people that existed on the continent. But still, it was nice to see them conversing so comfortably. It made him feel a strange warmth inside, a strange feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before. But he liked it, he found it comforting.

“We met after I escaped my home.” The princess began to tell her story, thinking carefully about every word before she said it. It was a great opportunity to build trust with Ciri, to let her know that she could understand her better than anyone else since she had also been a child frightened by her own powers. “You see, a long time ago I was a princess, just like you, trapped in a kingdom that had forbidden magic long before I was even born. I had to learn everything I know in secret, hiding from my parents and my own kingdom. Ruling wasn't my calling, especially in those conditions, so one day I decided to run away.”

Ciri's interest was piqued, her eyes growing wide with curiosity as she listened intently to the story the young woman told her. She told her about the monster that prowled the forests of her kingdom and how she used it to fake her death so she could escape a future she didn't want in a kingdom that didn't appreciate her. She also told her that was the reason Geralt showed up at her town, having been hired to kill the monster and avenge the death of the princess. But instead of encountering a beast, he found the young woman hiding in the forest.

“He could have taken me back to the castle. My parents probably would have paid him more to return their presumed dead daughter and heir to the throne home, but he didn't... he listened to my pleas and had mercy on me. He saved my life... everything I am today, everything I have, I owe to him. Geralt gave me a second chance in life and for that I will be eternally grateful.”

The princess smiled, remembering the details of their first meeting. Geralt had truly saved her life. She had failed to properly prepare for her escape, acting hastily and recklessly after an argument with her father that ended with him yelling at her that she was a disgrace to his family for not wanting to marry a lord who didn't love or respect her and only saw her as a way to gain more power. No matter how well she knew those woods, she could not have gotten very far on her own. And if anyone else had found her, they would have returned her to her parents without a thought, condemning her to a life of misery.

But Geralt had not done so. He had taken pity on her, putting her well-being above gaining greater wealth even when he did not know her. He had given her the opportunity to discover herself in complete freedom, far from the demands and mandates of her parents. Everything she was, was made possible by him. That's why she was always willing to help him, no matter how angry or upset she was with him. She couldn't let go of the hand of the man who had taken hers and pulled her out of the dark pit that was her former life.

“He saved my life too.” Ciri said with a sad smile on her lips. “He's the only family I have left.”

“I'm sorry about that,” the young woman offered a smile, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. “You shouldn't have to go through all that violence and pain, no child should. But you are in good hands with Geralt, he's going to take good care of you. Don't let the big, grumpy frown and the stories about witchers fool you, he is a big softie with a heart of gold.”

They shared a few chuckles and continued on their way, searching for the herbs they had yet to gather. The princess told Ciri about the Celandine plant and its medicinal properties —telling her to keep her eyes open in case she saw a four-petaled yellow flower—, and about the Eyebright plant and how it had cured an eye infection in a girl's eye in the village. She also shared with her some of the stories of her life, how she had practically grown up in the forest and the peace she felt when she was in contact with nature.

Ciri liked to hear those stories, especially when she told her about the difficulties she faced in understanding and learning to control her powers in the beginning. It made her feel less lonely to know that she wasn't the only one who had to go through something like that alone and without much guidance. It gave her hope for her future. Watching as she bent down to heal the broken wing of a bird on the side of the road, Ciri thought that if she had managed to understand and control her powers then there was still hope for her too. Maybe one day she would stop being afraid of her own abilities. Maybe she would come to understand what was wrong with her and the purpose of her powers.

“Why did they prohibit magic in your kingdom?” the girl asked curiously, marveling at the healing capabilities of the runaway princess' powers. It only took a touch of her hands and the utterance of some words she did not understand for the bird to recover, flying from her hands to get lost in the treetops. Ciri could not understand how something as wonderful as that could be seen as a bad thing. Her powers were nothing like hers, so it was hard for her to think that they would be viewed as displeasing to anyone.

“No one really talked about it, and I was always too afraid to ask. But from what I understand, magic ran in the royal family, but it had never brought the kingdom any luck, only chaos and destruction.” she explained returning her attention to Ciri now that the bird had disappeared from her vision. “Apparently it made people too unstable to rule. My great grandmother was the last one to have magic before me and she was the reason it was banned, but no one really talked about it so I don't know exactly why. For the most part everybody just pretended magic didn't exist, especially my parents. I think they knew that I inherited my great grandmother's abilities and they thought that maybe if they didn't mention it might go away. But the only thing they accomplished was to isolate me.”

She paused in her story and Ciri could notice in her eyes the pain those memories caused her. The joyful and sweet expression that graced her face was replaced by a sad and melancholic look. It was only for a second, but her face changed so much that she looked like a completely different person from the one who was standing next to her minutes before. Ciri wondered what kind of horrors she would have had to go through in her old home and if that expression was so different because it belonged to the princess she had left behind.

“When I started showing the first signs of chaos, I didn't know what was going on with me. I was terrified.” She cleared her throat and then her face lit up with its usual sweetness again. “If it wasn't for the new court physician I would have never learned the truth. She was a mage on the run, hiding in the last place she thought they were going to look for her. She noticed the signs immediately and took me under her wing, taught me everything I know... how to control my powers, how to use them in the art of healing, and more importantly, she taught me to not be afraid of them, to not let the fear of others influence me.”

She gave Ciri a small smile, hoping she understood the meaning behind her words. She wanted to be that positive figure in her life, to pass on to Ciri the knowledge and confidence that had been passed on to her in her training. It wasn't much compared to what other mages could teach her, but it was a start. She was willing to be the guide she so desperately needed, if Ciri would let her.

“Were they afraid of you because you were different?” The girl asked, looking at her with wide eyes full of curiosity. It was a question she was asking both the woman beside her and herself. The princess recognized that, so she stopped in her tracks and turned to look Ciri in the eye. It was important for her to hear and understand what she was about to tell her.

“Probably, yes.” she admitted with a sigh. Ciri lowered her gaze and she took a step forward, reaching out to grab her chin and make her look up. “But you have to understand that fear is one of the most common reactions people have to the unknown, to that which they don't understand. It's not personal, they just can't help it. One important thing I learned over time is that reaction is something you can't control, there is nothing you or I can say or do to stop those who don't understand magic from fearing it. But what we can control is our own fear. And it is important not to let the fear of others affect one's perception of oneself.”

“But what if they are right?” Ciri's voice was close to a whisper, almost as if she struggled to utter those words aloud. As if she was afraid to admit what her mind had been repeating to her since the fall of Cintra, fearing that saying it would make it real. “What if magic only brings death and destruction?”

It was clear to the princess that Ciri was referring to her own powers. She didn't need to know her too well —or even know the details of her powers— to understand, she could see it in the tears that had gathered in her eyes. It broke his heart to see the little girl in that state. She was just a child, it wasn't fair that she had such dark thoughts clouding her mind at that young age. Fate had been very cruel to her, taking away her family and home in a single act of terrible violence that she had had to witness without being able to do anything to prevent it. Not only that, but now she had to face her future and the development of her powers with no one to guide her. No child should have to go through something like that. All she wanted to do at that moment was to hug Ciri and tell her that there was nothing wrong with her, to assure her that everything would be alright and that her life would get better. But before she could even utter a word, a strange sound echoed throughout the forest, distracting her attention from the girl.

Her gaze instinctively searched for Geralt, who was already alert. His eyes searched the surroundings as his hand slowly approached the handle of the sword resting on his back. She felt Ciri's hand squeeze hers and returned her gaze to the girl. She was met with her expression of terror, which only got worse as the rumbling of what could only be described as a deafening shriek was heard.

“Geralt!” The woman called his name, hoping he would give some sort of explanation for what was happening.

Though he didn't need to say anything, because at that instant a figure came into view in the distance. It was a monster, but not one like anything she had ever seen or read about. It was large, with multiple legs and eyes, and a long tail that ended in a sharp point. It was like a strange, disgusting mix between a scorpion and a centipede, a large creature that towered tall above them. It stood still for a moment, keeping a relative distance, as if searching for something specific. The princess pushed Ciri behind her, instinctively seeking to protect her. The creature shrieked again and Geralt pulled out his sword.

“Run!” He commanded them before advancing towards the beast with his sword held high.

The princess hesitated for a second, feeling the need to reach out to him to help him, but Ciri tugged on her hand and reminded her that she needed hisprotection. They ran through the forest holding hands, helping each other keep their balance when they stumbled due to their nerves. She tried to keep Ciri safe, positioning herself a few steps behind her to protect her from a possible surprise attack with her own body. From time to time she looked behind, searching the horizon for the figure of Geralt or that monster to know in which direction to flee. But it was difficult to follow the fight when she was also worried about looking after Ciri. She needed some sort of vantage point that would allow her to observe the enemy so she could prepare for its attack.

“Is it gone?” the girl asked in fright as she tried to catch her breath. They had stopped momentarily when they saw that the monster was no longer at their heels. They couldn't hear it screeching either, so they thought maybe Geralt had taken care of it.

“I don't know.” she answered honestly, pushing Ciri against a tree to hide in case he came back. “I don't see Geralt anywhere.”

“Should we go back to look for him?”

“No, that's too dangerous... we need to get to higher ground.”

Before she could say another word, the beast made its presence known again. It came out of nowhere, screeching and moaning, no doubt hurt by the witcher. But in spite of that, it rushed towards the direction of the two princesses with the same voracious determination. Ciri screamed and grabbed the hand of the woman at her side to start running once more, but she stayed in place.

There was no sign of Geralt anywhere and given the amount of legs that beast had, it was clear that they couldn't outrun it. Ciri wouldn't be able to escape from there without someone to give her a head start.

“Run north, up the hill and hide there. Don't look back!” she ordered and the girl looked at her with confusion.

“What about you?”

“I'll come look for you, but I need to buy you some time to run.” She explained quickly, keeping her eyes on the beast that was getting closer and closer to them. “Go, Ciri! Now!”

The girl hesitated, finding the scene all too familiar. The number of times she had had to leave someone behind to save her life was more than she would like. It never ended well and she felt responsible for all the lives that had been sacrificed to get her there. She hoped Geralt's friend wouldn't join the list, she didn't know if she could tolerate one more death on her conscience.

As soon as Ciri started to run, she concentrated on attacking the monster that was chasing them. She moved out of the girl's way, seeking to draw the beast's attention to her to distract it. But to her surprise, it didn't seem to care. It continued on its way in the direction of Ciri as if she were not in that forest. And if it wasn't because she invoked the sign of Aard the beast probably wouldn't have bothered to attack her. It was clear that its target was Ciri, although she could not understand the reason.

She used what little knowledge she had of magic outside of healing to attack the monster. She relied on the Quen sign to protect herself when the beast came too close, just as Geralt had taught her. And she summoned Aard's power to throw the beast away from her, slamming it into every tree and rock she could find in hopes the impact would stun it and give her a chance to escape. She put up a good fight, but it was clear that she couldn't beat him with her limited skills.

Luckily, she didn't have to. Geralt appeared just in time to save her, crossing his sword with the beast's pointed tail before it could hurt her. They shared a simple, quick glance, but that was enough for them to communicate. Geralt's eyes assured her that he would take care of the beast and asked her to protect Ciri. She nodded to him, letting him know that the girl's safety was her priority before running after her.

It didn't take her long to find Ciri, she knew that forest like the back of her hand. She was hiding in the bushes, ready to attack anything that came near her. The girl almost hit her in the stomach with a log when she approached her hiding place, fearing it was an attacker coming to hurt her. She stopped just in time though, wide eyes looking at the woman in front of her with surprise. She hadn't expected to see her there —not after learning the fate of all those who had stayed behind to give her a chance to escape danger—, but she was glad she was all right. Ciri felt safer with her by her side.

“Where is Geralt?” asked Ciri worriedly, looking behind the woman's back for her protector's white mane.

“He's fine.” she assured her, approaching the edge of the hill to look down for movement that would indicate Geralt's whereabouts. But she saw nothing. Nor did she hear the shrieks of the beast pursuing them. All was quiet, almost too quiet. It gave her a bad feeling. “Come on, we have to keep moving.” She indicated to Ciri, taking her by the hand once more.

But before they could get more than a couple of steps away, the monster reached them, cornering them against some rocks and the ledge. It was so sudden, that the princess could do nothing more than create a protective energy field, enveloping her and Ciri's figure in a semi-transparent whitish bubble that kept the beast away from them. She pushed the girl behind her and told her to prepare to run when she gave the signal. Ciri protested, refusing to let her face the beast alone, but she assured her that she would be fine. The truth was that she didn't know, but she had no choice but to stand between the monster and the girl it so desperately sought to attack. She was going to fight to her last breath to protect it because it was the right thing to do —and because it was what Geralt expected of her.

However, her countdown only reached two before a sword pierced the beast's body. It let out a shriek of pain and tried to lunge at its attacker, but Geralt plunged his sword even deeper, giving it one last thrust before withdrawing it to let the creature bleed out. The beast collapsed to the ground, spreading a viscous dark green liquid oozing from its mortal wound onto the earth. It writhed a couple of times until it stopped moving, signaling that life had left its body.

The princess let out a sigh of relief, breaking the energy field now that it was safe for Ciri. The relief didn't last long, however, because Geralt collapsed next to the beast, dropping his sword with a loud clang. She and Ciri ran to him, calling his name with concern. He was still conscious when they knelt beside him, though he looked weak.

“Let me see.” she asked when she noticed Geralt squeezing his thigh with one hand. He moved it, allowing her to inspect the wound closely.

There was a tear in his pants and beneath it the skin of the witcher's thigh was swollen and reddened. There was a puncture wound that leaked drops of blood mixed with a thick black liquid. Making a closer inspection, she noticed the small black lines branching out, veins standing out on his skin as they slowly began the work of spreading the poison through his system.

“Fuck!” she muttered under her breath as she tore a piece of the skirt from her dress.

“What?” Ciri asked worriedly, watching as she tied the piece of cloth around Geralt's thigh, just above his wound, and tied a tight knot that caused the witcher to groan in pain. “What is it?”

“Poison.” she replied simply, picking up Geralt's sword from the ground and using it to cut the stinger from the tail of the monster lying lifelessly beside him. Then, she removed her cloak and used it to wrap the tail in it, making sure it was safe to carry without coming into contact with the poison the stinger held. If this was a new monster —or at least, one she didn't know about— she was sure that having the direct source of the poison would be of vital importance to save Geralt's life.

“We need to get him back home. Now.”

Luckily, Geralt was still lucid enough to walk. The slow beating of his heart and the tourniquet she had improvised with part of her dress helped keep the poison from spreading through his body quickly, but it still needed to be treated urgently. Ciri helped her carry him, each of them putting one of Geralt's arms around their shoulders and holding him tightly to help him move with more ease and speed. They were not far from the hut, but it was not easy to travel with Geralt in that state, so it took them longer than usual to get there.

Once home, the princess settled Geralt on the bed, just as she had done so many times in the past, before running to get her potions and ointments to treat the wound. Ciri sat beside him on the bed, looking at her protector with concern as he mumbled in pain. She noticed that the wound on his leg was getting worse with each passing second and for a moment she was afraid that something bad was going to happen to him. She couldn't lose him, not after going through so much to find him. Geralt was the only thing she had left, her only hope, she couldn't lose him.

“Ciri, could you help him drink this?” The woman asked, handing her a small glass vial with a yellowish green liquid inside. The girl was grateful to have been entrusted with a task, something she could do that would help her feel her presence was useful. “It will help his body battle the effects of the poison.”

Ciri took the bottle with one hand and Geralt's head with the other, lifting him slightly off the bed so he could drink the potion. While she brought the bottle to his lips, the princess tended to the wound on his leg. First she carefully washed it, using warm water and a clean cloth to remove the blood and drops of poison that remained on the skin. Then, she spread an ointment of her own creation on the wound while uttering an incantation in the ancient tongue.

She concentrated all her energy on him, repeating the incantation with increasing strength and conviction. She was treating it as she would any wound infected with poison, but the reality was that she didn't know if that would work. The creature that had attacked him was new to her, so she didn't know if its poison would respond to conventional treatments. So she devoted all her energy to him in the hope that it would be enough to save him. And while arranging some herbs on the wound before bandaging it, she prayed to the gods that her beloved would wake up.

Geralt heard her sweet voice in the distance, and felt the warmth of her fingers brushing the skin of his leg. He tried to let himself be carried away by the warm energy that she transmitted to him, to drown the pain he felt in the peace that her voice awakened in him. He tried to concentrate on her so as not to faint, clinging to the scent of her skin and the melody in her voice as if his life depended on it. But even his stubbornness and unwavering willpower were not enough to combat the effects of the poison. And though he fought against it, eventually his eyes closed and everything went black.

The last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was the sweet voice of his sunshine telling him, “rest.”

Ciri did not move from Geralt's side. She insisted on taking care of him and controlling how his condition was progressing while the princess investigated the stinger she had extracted from the beast. She began by extracting some of the venom that was still inside it, being very careful not to let it come into contact with her skin while she transferred it to a glass vial. She did some tests with it, studying how it reacted when in contact with different herbs and medicinal plants, as well as some of the potions she had in her catalog. None of the results she got were what she expected, so she began to worry. Maybe this thing was different after all. Maybe she couldn't save him this time.

“I think something is wrong!” Ciri suddenly exclaimed, breaking her concentration. The princess didn't ask her any more follow-up questions, she simply followed her into the room and approached Geralt to examine him.

He was definitely not looking like he should. He had been resting for a few hours, yet his physical appearance had worsened. He looked paler than usual and his breathing was irregular. A thin layer of sweat adorned his skin, and when she reached up to touch his forehead she discovered that it was hot.

“This is wrong.” she muttered to herself, undoing the bandage so she could examine the progress of the wound on his leg.

“What's wrong? What's going on?” Ciri questioned the woman, desperate to hear her professional opinion.

Lifting the bandage, she discovered that the wound had only worsened. The skin was swollen and hot to the touch, and the black veins stood out even more against the pale skin, extending until they were lost under the tourniquet that was still tight around the witcher's leg. “He's getting worse...” she murmured, concern and confusion mingling in her voice. “He's not responding to the treatment.”

“There must be something we can do!” Ciri insisted and the woman looked at her, not knowing what to say. She didn't know of any other ways to treat a wound as such, at least not ways that weren't pure legends. She could always research and try some alternative method, but she wasn't sure she had enough time for that.

“Kaer... Morhen...” Geralt stammered weakly, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Vesemir will know what to do.”

She just gave Ciri a look and the girl ran off to the stable to prepare the horses for the journey. She stayed behind with Geralt, grabbing a couple of her remedies and the beast's tail before carrying the witcher on her shoulder once more, dragging him with some difficulty to the door. When Roach saw the state his owner was in, she lay down on the ground to allow him to climb onto her back more easily. She gave the mare a few gentle pats and kind compliments before helping Ciri mount Brego, the horse she had personally raised after finding him badly injured and forgotten on a road. Once the girl was safe and settled, she mounted Roach behind Geralt, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place as she took the reins and they set off.

She didn't know the exact road to Kaer Morhen, only that it was south of where she lived. She had a few clues that gave her more details from the stories Geralt had told her about his life, but that was all. She had never asked him much about it, she knew that after being attacked the witchers kept to themselves and she didn't want to pressure him to reveal those details. She thought that maybe, if someday he felt comfortable enough with her to tell her about his home, he would. But now she was regretting not being more nosy.

Geralt was going in and out of consciousness, so while he could give directions from time to time, he was not the most reliable source. Ciri also didn't know the way since she had never been there before. However, Roach was a very smart horse who had traveled those roads many times in the past. So when they came to a crossroads, the mare advanced along the left-hand path with confidence. And before they knew it, they had reached Kaer Morhen.

“We need help!” she shouted and a middle-aged, white-haired man ran to meet her, startled by the commotion. His eyes fell on Geralt and she noticed the concern in them as he reached out a hand to touch the witcher's forehead.

“What happened?”

“He was attacked by a creature. He's been poisoned and I don't know how to stop it from spreading.”

“Get him inside!” At his command, a group of men grabbed Geralt and carried him inside. The young woman grabbed Ciri, holding the girl against her body so as not to lose her as she very timidly followed the others.

Both she and Ciri refused to leave Geralt, so Vesemir —the name given to them by the man who received them— had to work under the watchful eye of the two. He asked them about the attack and the young healer explained as best she could the details of the beast that had chased them. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to discover that an experienced witcher like Vesemir didn't seem to know what kind of creature she was describing.

“This may help.” She said, pulling the beast's tail covered in an old cloth from her bag. “I tested the poison against every plant and healing element I know of and nothing seems to work.”

“That's not the only problem.” the man said, gesturing for her to come closer. “You see this inflammation here? It's full of the creature's venom.” Vesemir lightly pressed the lump on Geralt's skin and a couple of black drops escaped from the puncture wound. “The venom is lodging there for some reason, spreading slowly to maximize the damage. No treatment is going to work until we extract it.”

“How can I help?”

“Hold him still.”

Vesemir rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a leather bag containing a couple of syringes, needles and other useful artifacts for healing a witcher's wounds. He took the middle syringe, with a relatively long needle, disinfected it and then rested his gaze on the young woman in a silent way of telling her to get ready. She nodded slightly, tightening her grip on Geralt's leg to make sure he didn't move it. Vesemir then inserted the needle into the wound very carefully. It was important that he didn't accidentally burst the bubble of poison that had been created under the skin or it might end up spreading faster.

Geralt mumbled in pain and his body twisted as Vesemir began to extract the poison, but the young woman kept a firm grip on him. And when that wasn't enough to keep him still, she resorted to talking to him, just as she always did when he showed up injured on her doorstep. She murmured sweet words of encouragement and her soft voice seemed to be enough to bring peace to the witcher. His body stopped writhing and his rapid breathing gradually calmed down.

When Vesemir finished extracting the poison, the young woman watched in horror as the dark liquid almost filled the syringe. She wondered how that beast had been able to inject so much poison in such a short time and worried about Geralt's condition. How much poison had made it through his system? She liked to think not too much since he was still breathing, but the amount of viscous liquid trapped in the syringe worried her. Vesemir didn't seem particularly worried, but she wasn't sure she could read the expert witcher's emotions as easily as she could read Geralt's.

She watched him rummage through a cabinet full of elixirs until he came across a dark-colored one. He ripped off the cap with his teeth and poured some of the contents on the wound on Geralt's leg, who groaned in pain but did not open his eyes. Then he passed the bottle to her.

“Make him drink this.” Vesemir instructed him before disappearing out the door.

The young woman was assisted by Ciri in the task. The little girl helped her hold Geralt's head high enough so that he would not choke on the liquid while she parted his lips and placed the spout of the bottle between them. The witcher coughed a little as the liquid touched his throat, but it was only for a moment.

“It's alright, you're alright... everything is going to be fine.” She murmured words of encouragement as she emptied the elixir down his throat, though she wasn't entirely sure to whom she was directing such phrases, Geralt or herself.

When Vesemir returned, two other witchers accompanied him. At the man's request, they took Geralt and led him to his quarters to rest.

“Is he going to be alright?” a very worried Ciri asked as she watched the weak and fainting body of her only protector being carried away.

“Only time will tell. The next few hours are critical, if he makes it through the night I'm sure he'll make a full recovery.” Vesemir was honest, perhaps a little bit more than he should have been with a girl like Ciri. He was already busy analyzing the extracted poison and the tail of the beast that had attacked and almost ended the life of one of the best witchers left on the continent, so he didn't realize the impact of his words on her until he turned and met the expression of fear and worry on the girl's face.

“Geralt is strong, he's not going down without a fight. I've seen him pull through worse things.” He tried to reassure her. “You are invited to stay here, if you are friends of Geralt you are always welcome. Although I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you, I have to study this thing in case Geralt's condition gets worse.”

“I can stay with him.” The young woman offered. “Keep an eye on him and call you if anything feels off.”

“Sure, that will be of much help. Thank you. Just ask one of the boys to guide you to Geralt's chambers.”

The young healer was very interested in learning about the elixirs and other things Vesemir had in that room. Some things she could recognize, some she had an idea of what they were and some were completely new. She was a curious person, especially when it came to her area of expertise, so she had a million questions to ask Vesemir. She would have loved to stay and see what tests he conducted on the poison and what things he looked for in the animal's severed tail. But her priority now was Geralt. She needed to know that he was okay and she wouldn't rest until she saw him open his eyes again. So she took Ciri's hand and headed for the door, but not before thanking Vesemir for the hospitality.

At first Geralt thought he was dreaming. His eyelids felt heavy and he was disoriented. The world around him was a blur and he could hear a ringing in his ears. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there, and the harder he tried to recall any images of the last few hours, the more difficult it became. It was like trying to remember a dream, the blurred and confused images escaping from his mind as he struggled to capture them. Yet somehow, in the midst of the chaos that was his mind at that moment, he found her. She was lying next to him, curled in on herself in the small space on the bed that he did not occupy. Her beautiful, delicate face was partially covered by her hair, but he didn't need to see it to know she was asleep. He found her before anything else, a beacon of clarity in the midst of the darkness clouding his mind. Only then, his mind decided to cooperate, recognizing images and patterns around him that helped make sense of where he was.

And yet, Geralt remained focused on her. If the dizziness didn't make him feel like in a dream, seeing her like that, so relaxed and peaceful next to him, definitely did. It was a scene that almost didn't seem real after a long year of distance and yearning. It was a sight he hadn't had in a year, her curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully next to the warmth of his body. There was no weird tension in the air or unspoken discomfort like that other night. She genuinely looked comfortable and calm next to him and Geralt couldn't help but smile.

But beyond that, her figure sleeping next to him was a beautiful sight he had never had the pleasure of having in his own home. Their encounters always occurred outside, in the maelstrom of the real world or in the calm of her hut in the forest, but never in his home. Geralt had awakened many mornings with the young woman in his arms, but none had been in his own bed, covered by his own blankets, hidden in the safety of his own room. He discovered then that he liked the feeling of sharing that space with her. It made everything he felt for her feel more real. It made his longing to stay by her side seem more feasible. She was there with him, caring for him and keeping him company, and the world seemed right again.

Geralt tried to sit up in order to better admire her beauty, but instantly regretted it when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He let out a low grunt, bringing his hand to the bandage wrapped around his thigh with a grimace of confusion. Then flashes of the last few hours overwhelmed his mind. He remembered fighting the monster that chased them in the forest. He remembered the sharp sting of its tail and the burn of its venom. He remembered Ciri's worried look and reaching Kaer Morhen. But most of all, he remembered the gentle touch of his healer on his fevered skin and the sweet sound of her voice lulling him to peace as she always did. Her voice echoed in his mind and the mere memory seemed to be enough to silence the ringing in his ears and ease the pain in his weak and tired body. That didn't surprise him, though. Geralt had long since ceased to be amazed by the effect she had on him. He had learned to accept it, just as he accepted the day turning to night or the winter turning to spring. She was his light, a warm sun on the first day of the equinox that lengthened the day and melted the ice to allow the fields to bloom. She was his sunshine and he realized now that he had spent the last year living in an eternal winter to which he never wished to return.

The movement of the bed beside him brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He leaned over just in time to see his princess open her eyes as she stretched slightly. He could admire the confusion in her expression for a few brief seconds as her sleep clouded mind struggled to figure out where she was. Then her eyes opened wide and her gaze fell upon him. He was glad to see a glint of joy in them at finding him awake and had to bite the inside of his lip to hold back the smile as he saw her jump up in bed.

“Geralt! Are you okay? How are you feeling?” She questioned him with a strange mixture of excitement and concern in her voice.

“As if I had died and was brought back.” He replied with his classic dry humor, though it wasn't that far from the truth. His injured leg still ached when he moved it and his muscles felt tired as if he had spent all night battling a striga.

“You're not that far off.” She shrugged, rising from the bed to pour him a glass of water. Geralt accepted it gladly, drinking the contents in a couple of long sips. Boy was he thirsty!

“How long was I out?”

“Considering you've been in and out of consciousness since the attack, I'd say almost two days.” Geralt was surprised by that answer. In his mind it had only been a couple of hours, but apparently he remembered less than he thought.

Then, Ciri's worried face presented itself in his mind. “Ciri!” He exclaimed, jerking upright. He regretted moving once more, though, when the pain forced him to let out a grunt.

“She's alright!” The young woman hastened to say as she helped Geralt sit up. She took the pillows and stacked them carefully against his back, giving him a softer surface to lean on. Then she helped him recline on them, taking advantage of the moment of proximity to run her hand over his forehead and check for fever. “She's sleeping in the room next door.” She explained as she arranged the blankets so he wouldn't be cold. She knew he had grown up there and was probably used to the cold temperatures, but boy was the witchers' lair cold! “That girl refused to leave your side! I had to fight her to get her to go to sleep. She wanted to be here when you woke up, but I didn't want her here in case...” she trailed off. In case he didn't wake up was what she was going to say, but she couldn't bring herself to utter those words. Although she didn't have to, Geralt knew it when he noticed the sudden sadness that flashed across her face. “Anyway, I had to promise her that she would be the first one I would look for when you woke up to get her to go to sleep. And even then she stayed for another hour here.”

Geralt laughed, that sounded like Ciri. “Thank you... for keeping her safe.”

A silence formed as she took it upon herself to check his vitals. His breathing seemed normal, the same with his pulse —well, normal for a witcher. He no longer had a fever and when she uncovered the wound on his leg she noticed that the skin around it was in better condition. There were no more black lines or reddened areas. It was still somewhat swollen, but the skin was no longer warm to the touch, which was a good sign. Geralt enjoyed feeling her hands on his body, traveling from his forehead to his cheeks and gently brushing the skin of his leg. He swore the warmth of her fingers was all he needed to make the pain in his body go away. He felt a little more alive with every caress, every accidental touch. The magic of her touch slowly melted the hard layer of ice that had formed around him after a long year of harsh winter, but this time Geralt didn't fight it. He wanted her to do it, he wanted her light to finally allow spring to come. He was done running away from her.

“I'm sorry,” she said in a soft, almost inaudible voice as she changed the bandage on his leg. “I should have done more to help you... I just... I didn't know what to do.”

It took Geralt a few seconds to understand what she was saying, not because of the low volume of her voice, but because he found it incredible to hear the guilt in her words. “You saved me.” He pointed out as if it were obvious and she let out a snort.

“You almost died because of me!”

“I almost died because I was too slow and I got attacked by an unknown creature. I didn't expect you to know what to do, even I wouldn't have known what to do. But you brought me here in time and you keep Ciri safe, that's all that matters.”

The young woman smiled, not as big of a smile as Geralt had hoped, but enough to know that his words did have some sort of effect in easing the guilt that for some reason he didn't understand, she felt for what had happened. “That's nice of you to say.”

“It's the truth.”

“Whatever,” she said as she put away her leather case of ointments and healing potions. When she sat back down on the bed, Geralt noticed she had a nervous look on her face. “I would like to stay here with you and help you get back on your feet. I feel like I owe you that. It wouldn't be for too long, I mean, you had a great recovery so far and I'm sure you'll be alright, but I wouldn't feel right leaving you before I know for sure that you're okay... I know this place is... special, I guess, and that you don't let many outsiders in... and I wouldn't want to intrude, but I just couldn't leave without making sure you're okay.”

Geralt found her nervous rambling adorable. He would like to say that the feeling she felt was unfounded, but after how he had treated her he understood why she would be uncomfortable talking about such a thing. The last time she had made an effort to bring their worlds together he had rejected her. And not only that, but he had completely disappeared from her life for a year. He completely understood her nervousness and felt terrible knowing it was his fault.

“I want you to stay.”

Those simple five words were enough to arouse a sense of joy she had not felt in a long time. Those were the words she had waited all this time to hear, the confirmation that Geralt was willing to share some of his world with her after all. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel somewhat special. She knew that not many people had the privilege of walking through the gates of Kaer Morhen not having been raised there and she felt honored to be one of those few. A small smile tugged at her lips and Geralt knew then that his words had had the desired effect.

“Besides, I think your presence can be a good influence on Ciri. You can help me guide her on the right path and keep her safe.”

“I'll try my best, but I don't know as much about magic as other mages.”

“That's not the only thing you can teach her.” 

Geralt knew very well that she had not been professionally trained. She had never gone to Arethusa to have her talents molded and sharpened, but that wasn't important to him. Geralt valued her for more than her magical abilities, he always had. For him one of her best traits was her personality, her way of facing the world with courage and optimism. She was one of the strongest people he knew, and he wasn't sure she knew it. Ciri needed someone like her, someone who could guide her through the dark shadow of tragedy and loss that clouded her path to reach the side of light. He could give her the tools to defend herself and face her fears, but she could teach Ciri to see the world from another perspective, a more positive and joyful one, something she desperately needed.

“I think it will do her good to have someone like you around.” Geralt smiled, his hand reaching for hers on the blanket. He felt the energy coursing through his body as they touched, her warmth melting the ice around his heart. The atmosphere in the room changed, suddenly more intimate and special. He wanted to tell her that her company was good for him too, but regretted it at the last moment. He didn't want to overwhelm her or sweet-talk her into forgiving him. If she decided to stay by his side, he wanted it to be her own decision.

The moment was cut short when the bedroom door opened, revealing a freshly awakened Ciri. The girl's eyes lit up with joy as they met the figure of a very lucid Geralt sitting up in bed. She uttered his name in an exclamation of surprise and crossed the room in a matter of seconds to throw herself into his arms.

“Careful!” the young woman warned her, “He's still hurt.”

“You were supposed to call me!” Ciri ignored her, choosing to scold her for not waking her up.

“I was just about to come get you.” She laughed, stepping aside so the girl could sit next to Geralt on the bed. “But since you're here, I'll go let Vesemir know Geralt's awake so he can come take a look at him.”

Contrary to popular belief, witchers were capable of feeling human emotions. That was something the young woman already knew, although living in Kaer Morhen surrounded by the last remaining witchers on the continent allowed her to appreciate the degree of emotions they felt. They were a strong brotherhood and cared deeply for each other, as evidenced by the tree of the fallen, as she called it. A place where the medallions of all the witchers who had perished hung, with more being added with each passing winter. But besides that, she learned that they were quite a fun group. Perhaps it was because they were in the safety of their home, resting after long months of hard work, but their attitudes were not at all what she expected. They kept telling jokes and playing tricks on each other, admittedly rather ordinary for her taste in some cases, but they didn't fail to make her laugh.

They were respectful to her —she suspected Geralt had something to do with that—, but still made her feel welcome in their home. She found it interesting to be surrounded by the most intimidating and roughest looking men on the continent and feel as safe as she did in her own home. She was sure that if her first encounter with many of them had occurred outside the walls of Kaer Morhen, her opinion would be different. Just as when she first met Geralt, it was very likely that the imposing figure of the witchers would have intimidated her and it would have taken her a long time to discover that they were actually very nice people. Lambert and Coen were her favorites, their constant bickering always amused her greatly. Although sometimes she had to confront them to make them be nicer to poor Ciri. They were training her along with Geralt just as Vesemir had trained them and it was the woman's job to remind them that she was just a child.

Vesemir was very good to her as well. Not only had he not complained when Geralt announced that she would be staying with them, but he agreed to indulge her curiosity. He let her watch him work on the analysis of the tail of the monster that had attacked them, even asking for her assistance in some things. They did not reach any satisfactory conclusions, but it was interesting to participate in the process. She learned a lot about the witchers and their creation from Vesemir, as well as the elixirs that helped them on the battlefield. He was a very wise man, and she was honored that he trusted her with his knowledge.

However, her favorite thing was seeing Geralt so relaxed and free, laughing with his siblings and acting like a father to Ciri. It was a side of him she didn't know. Of course he laughed and had fun with her when they spent time together in her hut, but that was different. Their encounters were always filled with this... tension in the air, tainted with unspoken feelings and silent longings. It was a constant countdown, the black cloud of reality always near no matter how hard they both tried to ignore it. From the moment Geralt walked through the door of her home, she knew that the clock had started ticking and that the happiness that was invading her at that moment would come to an end sooner or later. But there was no such thing in Kaer Morhen. There was no rush and no time, so Geralt could relax and be himself. And thanks to that she had discovered a much more... playful and joyful side of him. And she loved it.

What she also loved was the nickname that others had for him. The first time someone had called him wolf, she thought she had heard wrong. They were eating at a table all together and the shouting made it hard to even hear Ciri sitting next to her. But the next time it happened there was no noise to block her hearing. She and Geralt were in the kitchen since this time it was his turn to prepare dinner. He had gone hunting in the morning and now he was in charge of skinning the animal for her to cook. She didn't pay much attention to the conversation Geralt had with Vesemir when he appeared in the kitchen, focused on cutting the vegetables for the stew without hurting her fingers. But her ears pricked up when she heard him utter that nickname.

Wolf

The word echoed in her mind for a while, drowning out whatever was going on around her as she cooked. It was a fitting nickname for Geralt now that she thought about it. Everything about him screamed wolf, both externally and internally. Beyond his imposing presence, great hunting skills and impressive agility, he often hid behind a cold and hostile appearance. When he entered a room he could evoke the same fear and respect in people who did not know him that a wild wolf evoked in a traveler who stumbled upon it unexpectedly on his journey. The witchers had a certain reputation among the common people, built on myths and lies long spread across the continent. And while they were not true, Geralt found them convenient. It was easier to travel the world when people feared him —at least, most of the time. But that cold attitude was a sham, a shield protecting who he really was. He liked to present himself as a lone wolf who didn't need anyone, but in reality he cared about people, especially those closest to him. And just like a wolf protecting his pack, Geralt was willing to do anything to care for those he loved the most. Sometimes she thought that was exactly why he decided to stay away from people. He cared too much and that could be terrifying, not only because of the state of vulnerability it left him in, but also because of the degree of atrocities he would be willing to commit to protect his own.

“Wolf, huh?” She muttered as Vesemir left. She discovered she liked the nickname even more as she uttered it aloud. It was sweet and it felt good to finally have something to fight back with when he called her sunshine. “I like it,” she smiled, ”It suits you.”

“How so?” Geralt arched an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a rag before taking a few steps towards her. The woman pushed aside the knife she held in her hands, looking up to stare at the witcher.

“Well, you're imposing and agile as one... you're incredibly observant and great at hunting... and you're willing to fight tooth and nail to protect your own.” She spoke thoughtfully, listing characteristics as they came to mind. Geralt admired her with a slight grimace of amusement, thinking how much he missed having those kinds of conversations with her. “You're like a big scary white wolf who acts all tough but that's all for show, lots of bark and little bite.”

Geralt let out a snort. “It is?” he inquired and she nodded, even though she knew it wasn't technically true. He was quite capable of actually following through on his threats when he made them, but it was much more fun for her to tease him about his soft side.

“Yes! I mean, it took me a couple of weeks to earn your trust and then you were rolling over and showing me your belly like a dog asking for pets.”

Geralt let out a sarcastic laugh, but the truth was he couldn't quite say anything to contradict her. He wished he could wipe the smug smile off her face, but she was right, he had taken a liking to her rather quickly. And worst of all, it had happened without him noticing until it was too late. He became accustomed to her company — to wake up to the sound of her voice and listen to the sweet melody of her laughter— to such an extent that when she was gone the world felt wrong. He could not pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with her, one day she was a frightened girl asking for his help in the forest and the next she was the ray of sunshine that brightened his days. Just like that, without warning, she had made a place in his heart that she refused to give up no matter how hard he tried to push her away.

“But it's okay, I like that duality.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You're my big, scary, but surprisingly gentle white wolf.”

The young woman smiled tenderly as she used her fingers to push a lock of hair away from Geralt's face. It was an unconscious thing, a movement engraved in the memory of her muscles after having done it so many times in their long nights of conversations. When she realized it, she felt the urge to move her hand away, embarrassed by her audacity. Their relationship was in a very gray area, things were not clear at all. She was no longer angry with him, but things between them had not yet returned to normal, so the intimate gesture seemed out of place.

Or at least that's what she thought until she saw the way Geralt leaned over her hand. It was probably an unconscious movement as well, but she used the moment to test the waters. She let her fingers trail along his temple, slowly making their way down to his cheek. She did not dare to look him in the eye, so she focused her gaze on the movement of her hand, admiring the marks and scars that adorned the witcher's skin. She noticed that there were a couple that were new and couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind them. What kind of adventures had he had while he was distanced from her? What monster could have caused those injuries? How had he healed them? Had it been him or maybe it was someone else's work? Had someone else taken her place in the time that had passed?

She didn't like where her thoughts were going, so she covered the marks with her fingers, cradling Geralt's cheek. Then she mustered up the courage and looked up, curious as to what might be going through his mind at that moment. She found the witcher's golden eyes were fixed on her, admiring her with longing and, dare she say it, love. There was a warmth in his gaze that drew her to him. It made her feel seen in a way she hadn't felt since the moment he left. He was the only one who could make her feel that way, so safe, so desired... so loved. And he was the only one she wanted to look at her that way.

She didn't realize how much closer she had gotten to Geralt until she felt his nose brush against hers. His warm breath mingled with hers as it escaped her half-open lips, caressing them with the promise of that long-awaited kiss that never came. She wanted to move, to close the little distance that separated them and finally discover what it would feel like to kiss him, but it was impossible for her to do so. She was trapped under Geralt's intense gaze. Like a moth to the flame, she was lost in the golden glow of his eyes, waiting expectantly for his next move.

But the kiss never came. Only this time it wasn't because she backed down or because he regretted it at the last second as had happened in the past. This time it was Ciri's interruption that broke the moment and forced them apart.

“Lambert sent me to help you because he says you're taking too long so- OH! Sorry, sorry!” The girl blushed upon finding them in such a compromising position. She instinctively backed away, ready to run out the same way she had come, but the woman stopped her.

“It’s fine, Ciri! Stay, please. I’m definitely going to need some help cooking enough food to satisfy those gluttons out there.”

“Come on, focus! I know you can do it.” The woman tried to encourage the girl, who was having trouble generating any kind of magical reaction from the moment they had started the lesson.

She didn't know much about magic outside of healing, so that was her starting point. From what Geralt had told her about Ciri, the girl had much more power than she did, so she figured that teaching her to channel her magic in one aspect gave her enough tools to begin to control other aspects of her powers. She began with easy lessons, remembering the things her mentor had taught her when they were just starting out. She had previously told her about the potions she made and the type of plants she needed for each as a way of easing her way into things. But several lessons ago she had moved on to more complicated things that involved more active use of her powers.

They were sitting in the common room, near the fire. It was a cold day, though that hadn't stopped Ciri from going out to train with her wooden sword. Geralt was the one who had to drag her inside to meet the healer for her magic lessons, and she didn't seem very enthusiastic about it. For that very reason she had given the girl a relatively simple exercise, the same one they had been practicing for two lessons. In a pot was a dried plant. Its stems were still green in some places, but much duller, and the leaves were withering more and more with each passing day. The goal they were working towards was to revive the plant, although she would settle for any kind of progress. The woman remembered that the same exercise had taken her quite some time, so she showed patience to Ciri. But on the other hand, the girl was supposed to have much more power than she did, so she was slightly concerned about the lack of response.

Ciri snorted. “I'm trying! It's not easy.” It was clear that she was frustrated but she had to keep pushing if she wanted to get any kind of reaction from her.

“Not hard enough!”

She was not referring to Ciri's efforts in her lessons, it was clear that she gave everything she could. The problem was that she always arrived tired, if she arrived at all. She wasn't giving her magical training the attention it deserved, preferring the sword and the training ground outside to mastering her natural abilities. She understood it to an extent, it was easier to train the body than the mind, but she needed to see how important it was to learn to manage her powers. Those were the ones that would be with her for the rest of her life, the ones that could save her in a situation of extreme danger, and she needed to know how to use them to her advantage.

“You're focusing too much on learning how to fight when this is just as important.”

“Maybe I am because at least that's where I'm making progress.”

“I know it's hard, Ciri, but you have a responsibility. Your powers are something extraordinary, but you owe it to yourself and everybody around you to learn how to control them.” Her voice was not accusatory or dismissive. On the contrary, she made an effort to sound soft and empathetic. She wanted to make the girl understand the importance of her lessons and knew she would not succeed by making her angry. Besides, she knew very well how frustrating it could be when things didn't go as expected, she had gone through that too when she was the one learning to handle her powers.

However, Ciri didn't take it as kindly as she had hoped. “What do you know about responsibility? You abandoned your own people! At least I'm trying to fight to avenge mine!” The girl raised her voice, jumping up from her seat and giving her mentor an angry look.

“Ciri!” Geralt, who was sitting in the corner of the room fixing his armor, wanted to intervene. However, the woman waved him to stand aside. She understood that it was misplaced anger and didn't need him to jump in for her.

“It’s fine. You are right, Ciri. I abandoned my own people because it wasn’t a safe place for me… or anyone like me, if I’m being honest. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make… Realizing that my own home wasn’t safe for me was heartbreaking, but strangely liberating.” The girl's gaze softened and she resumed her place beside her. “I was trapped in that place, surrounded with people that hated me for who I was, for things I couldn’t control. My own parents thought I was a disgrace… they hid me, silence me, broke my spirits in the hopes I wouldn’t become my great grandmother. And for the longest time I let that get into me. I let them define who I was. I hated myself and my powers because everyone else did… and the more I tried to ignore them, the more I tried to suppress them, the worse they got. I had to learn to let go, to stop focusing on the negative things because it was doing me no good.”

Ciri looked at her with glazed eyes, the anger in her expression slowly morphing into sadness. “How do you do it?” her voice was almost a whisper that broke the woman's heart. She could hear so much pain in those simple words that she couldn't help but reach out to entwine her hand with hers. Suddenly, the girl's inner struggle was evident on her face. She could feel the sadness and weariness that overwhelmed her. She had been through so much at such a young age, it wasn't fair. “I can't let it go.”

“You don't have to… you just have to take control of yourself and stop letting your fear and anger control you.”

“How can I do that when everyone I love is dead… when everywhere I go I bring blood and destruction?”

“You make a choice about who you want to be because you are the only one that has the power to do that, to define yourself.” The woman moved a little closer to Ciri, lightly tightening her grip on her hand in support. “You see, magic is extremely connected to our emotions, to our most instinctive reactions. If you see it as a bad thing, as a burden, a curse… if you see yourself as a monster, a murderer that can only create chaos and destruction, then you are letting your fear define who you are. You are limiting your abilities and the chance to explore your potential.”

“How are you so sure that I'm not… a monster?” 

A tear rolled down Ciri's cheek and the woman was quick to wipe it away with her thumb. She had to hold back her own tears, focusing on being a support for the girl at that moment. But she would be lying if she said she wasn't able to see herself in the frightened eyes of the young princess. She knew that fear very well, she had experienced it firsthand and that's why she wanted to help her overcome it. It was not fair that she was going through it, no one deserved to go through the horrors she had gone through at such a young age. Ciri was alone, homeless, without family, and forced to discover the terrifying foreign world at the same time she was discovering herself. It was an extremely vulnerable position to be in, but the witch would try her best to accompany her every step of the way. She didn't have to go through it all alone.

“Because nobody is born a monster.” The girl said with gentle simplicity, a sweet smile growing at the corner of her lips. “I grew up ashamed of who I was. My parents dreaded the day I was old enough to take over my kingdom. They couldn't wait to hand me over to the first nobleman who seemed competent enough, so that if one day I became unstable and dangerous because of my powers he could stop me from destroying everything they had worked so hard to build... No matter how hard I tried to make things right, they trusted a stranger more than their own daughter. Most of my childhood was clouded by this dark shadow of sadness and loneliness, until I realized that was exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to be afraid, to be alone and ashamed because then they could control me, mold me into whatever they wanted me to be. Choosing something else... choosing to be happy with who I am, choosing to help others and use my powers for good was a decision I had to make... it's a decision I make every morning when I wake up, and it's not an easy one. The easy thing is to be consumed and paralyzed by fear. Seeing the good in life and in yourself is a conscious decision that you have to make. It is one that only you can make, but I promise to be there for you when you need me. You don't have to be alone in this.”

Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms and she held her tight against her chest for as long as she needed. She buried one hand in the girl's blonde hair and gently rubbed her back with the other until she could no longer feel her sobs against her shoulder. Her eyes searched Geralt's with a worried expression. Ciri had so much bottled up inside her that suddenly the potential danger of her unexplored and uncontrolled magic ceased to worry her. However, when her eyes met the witcher's she found nothing but calm in them. He admired their embrace with a knowing smile and she knew then that he approved of the way she had handled the situation.

Seeing the way Ciri opened up to her, Geralt was glad he had asked for her help. Swallowing his pride had definitely been the right decision. The girl didn't just need protection. She needed guidance, support and an understanding that he, as much as he wanted to, could not give her. But his sweet sunshine could, she was always open to help whoever came to her door. Geralt knew from the start that he had to take Ciri with her, not just because of her knowledge of magic or her empathic abilities, but because she was the one he always turned to when he needed guidance or a reason to keep fighting. She had a way of brightening people up that was unique. He used to think it was part of her nature, her warm, positive personality that was finally able to shine through once she was out of the prison she used to call home. Although after hearing what she told Ciri, he realized that brightening others and making them feel at peace was an effort she made every day precisely because she knew the dangerously cold and dark depths to which the mind could descend when there was no such support.

“You can rest for now, my dear. It's fine, you have done enough for one day.” The sweet voice of his sunshine brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He watched as she patted Ciri's back as the little girl wiped away her tears.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it one more time.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, we can continue the lesson tomorrow after you have a good rest.”

Ciri insisted so she stepped aside to let her proceed. The girl took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm her emotions as her mentor had taught her. She raised her hands to the plant that withered with each day she failed and closed her eyes. She tried her best to quiet the voices that always echoed in her mind, the ones that scared her and held her back every time magic was mentioned. She erased the images of Cintra in flames, the figure of the dark knight chasing her and the horrors that followed her every time her powers were activated. She replaced those dark visions with her mentor's words of encouragement, repeating them over and over in her mind as a way of convincing herself that all would be well and that she had nothing to fear.

Then she felt a warmth tickling her fingers and heard the gasp of the woman sitting next to her. She opened her eyes instinctively, concern already written in her expression as she looked around for answers —and to make sure she hadn't hurt anyone. The woman smiled at her and motioned with her head to look at the potted plant resting on the table. The plant itself hadn't changed much. It still looked dry and dull, but the stems were a brighter green and some of the leaves had turned from dark orange to an almost greenish yellow.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms once again, only this time with a big look of happiness on her lips. When she pulled away, she took the pot in her hands to admire her work more closely. “Geralt, look! I did it! I finally did something!”

Geralt joined in the celebrations, giving Ciri a pat on the back and a few words of encouragement to let her know he was proud of her unbreakable spirit. She fit in so well with the rest of the witchers that he was starting to get a little scared. She was as stubborn and broken as most of them. But she was also as hard working and fierce as they were. He could see a lot of himself reflected in her, in fact. She had the same eagerness to go out and prove herself in the real world that both he and his brothers had when they were just starting their training. That same impatience that Vesemir had fought so hard to quell and that reality had finally destroyed. He had to keep an eye on that.

When the moment of euphoria was over, Geralt sent Ciri to rest. “You have done enough for one day” he told her and this time the girl disappeared up the stairs with a smile on her lips, happy to have proven herself.

“I was nice what you said to her.” Geralt spoke once he was sure Ciri could not hear them.

“I just told her what I wish someone would have told me when I was her age.”

“You never told me about it… what your parents did to you.”

“Well... it's a part of my life I don't like to remember often.” She shrugged, leaning her hips back against the table as she stared at a fixed point on the wall in front of her, lost in thought. Geralt admired her delicate profile, and with a heavy heart he wondered what kind of sad memories might be swirling through her mind at that moment. “Although, in a strange way, it made me who I am today, so I guess something good came out of all that shit in the end.” She also thought that thanks to her parents' mistreatment —and her consequent escape— her path had crossed Geralt's and she would always be grateful for that. However, she decided not to mention it.

“Just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, I discover that your act of rebellion against the world that treated you horribly is to be the kindest, sweetest person on the continent.” Geralt let out a laugh, returning his attention to his half-repaired armor that had been left forgotten on the table. But she remained silent, frozen in place.

Geralt had not thought carefully before speaking —something that happened to him more often than he would like to admit when he was with her. He didn't even realize the implications of his words until it was too late. He just stated a fact, a simple fact that had been on his mind ever since he had overheard her talking to Ciri: finding out that after all the bad things she had been through she was still the sunshine she was, made him love her even more. Geralt had always known that she was a strong and extremely brave woman, but this was the first time he really knew the extent of that strength. He had seen honest men be consumed by resentment and hatred for far less, so the fact that she strove to be a source of light and positivity not only for herself but for everyone who crossed her path was a reason to admire her.

He was so entranced by her that he didn't notice what he said —what he inadvertently admitted— until a few seconds later, when he wondered at her sudden silence. When he looked up, he found her eyes fixed on him. Those beautiful eyes that normally brought him peace, now put his insides in knots. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Geralt was paralyzed. His mind was completely blank, not knowing what to do or say, as he waited for some sign from his sunshine.

“I-” She started to speak, but before she could say anything else the doors to the hall opened, ushering in a group of noisy witchers who had just come in from hunting for dinner.

After the moment was broken, neither she nor Geralt brought up the subject again. They both thought about it countless times, wondering in the nights before bed what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. However, they were too afraid to face the situation, so they let the tension linger in the air, increasing with the growing list of unanswered questions.

Another great thing she had discovered about living in Kaer Morhen was that there was a pack of wolves nearby. The first time she had seen them was one afternoon walking around the fortress with Geralt. He hadn't let her get close, of course, claiming it was too dangerous since they were wild animals. That hadn't stopped her at the time and luckily it had never resulted in any injuries, but one never knew when their luck might change.

“That's why you're here,” she had replied, ”you'll save me if they try to eat me.”

“I don't know, will I?” He had joked in his characteristic dry tone. “If you get hurt after my warnings it is entirely on you.”

She snorted and punched him in the arm, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Of course you will! You can't live without me.” She had said that as a joke, but it was much closer to reality than she probably imagined. He was willing to do anything to keep her safe because he truly couldn't live without her. He had tried for a year and had been miserable every second he was away from her.

After having to drag her away from the wolves that day, Geralt really shouldn't have been surprised to find her playing with them weeks later. He knew her and the effect she tended to have on animals, but even so, he found it impressive the way the wolves reacted to her touch. She was sitting on the cold ground covered by a thin layer of snow. Next to her rested an adult wolf who closed his eyes with pleasure every time she stroked his head. In her lap a puppy let her scratch its belly, stretching out on her with every movement of her fingers as if preparing to take a long nap. In the distance the rest of the pack watched the two brave –or foolish— enough to approach a human, making sure they were safe.

She was speaking to them, Geralt could see in the distance that she was moving her lips, and hear the whisper of her voice on the wind, but he could not make out what she was saying —though he could almost imagine it, he had been through a few similar situations with her in the past. He was lost in thought as he admired her playing with the wild animals like they were mere domesticated dogs. A smile formed on his lips as he thought that at least he wasn't the only one completely enraptured by her aura, the entire animal kingdom joined him in that sentiment. Even his own horse loved her more than him. But he understood Roach, she was someone special and he had been lucky to cross her path.

“I see why you like her.” Vesemir's voice startled him, when had he arrived there? “She is a lovely woman.”

“She is indeed.” Geralt agreed without looking away from his princess, who was now laughing in amusement at something the wolf cub in her lap had done.

“Are you sure you're doing the right thing?” The older witcher spoke again and Geralt's brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. “Are you sure she is compatible with our way of living... with our life's mission? There's less of us every winter and something big is coming, I know it... I can lose you, wolf.”

Geralt was silent for a moment, contemplating Vesemir's words. The gods knew that he had asked himself that same question multiple times since he had met her. The answer always changed depending on his mood. Sometimes —especially when he spent a lot of time with her in her hut— he was sure that his future was at her side and that nothing could ever keep him away from her. Other times, when the pressures of reality forced him to abandon his fantasies, he recognized that their relationship was complicated at best and impossible at worst. But all that had changed after she was attacked by a Bruxa.

After failing to protect her that time he convinced himself that their relationship should end, not because it was incompatible with his life itself, but because he was too afraid of losing her. The images of that attack had not left his mind in the year he had spent away from her. It plagued his nightmares when he slept and his thoughts when he was awake. He was so horrified at the thought of losing her because he was unable to protect her from danger that he was willing to endure a life of misery just to make sure she was all right. In his experience, missing what could never be was better than mourning the loss of those who were gone and could never come back. So he endured the gray days and sleepless nights, finding comfort in knowing that his princess was safe and sound in her hut, far from the danger he represented.

Geralt had convinced himself that this was for the best because it was the simplest option, the clearest solution to his problem. Keep her safe by staying away from her and wait for the time to pass and help him forget about his feelings. But now he was not so sure. Maybe it was the thrill of being reunited with her after yearning to feel her touch for a year. Or maybe it was the optimism of his sunshine speaking through him, but Geralt was beginning to consider that maybe there was a future for them where neither of them had to suffer. It probably wouldn't be easy, but life's hardships hadn't stopped her before, so why should they stop him?

“We can make it work.” He finally said and for the first time since she had entered his life, Geralt felt a sense of certainty as he spoke those words.

Vesemir didn't answer him, although Geralt didn't give him much time to do so because seconds after those words left his mouth, he was walking towards her. When he approached her, the first thing she did was make excuses for what she was doing, expecting Geralt to scold her for not listening to his warnings. But he wasn't interested in that, he had far more important revelations to share with her.

“I know what you are going to say, it's dangerous and all that, but they came to me for help!” she hurried to say while petting the wolves to make sure Geralt's presence didn't disturb them. “This little one was hurt! I couldn't let him die, he's too adorable and fluffy! I saved his life and now they like me.”

“Do you remember what you told me when I arrived at your home with Ciri?” Geralt ignored her rambling. She looked up from the puppy gently nibbling her fingers to meet his eyes. He wasn't sure if the look of confusion on her face was due to his sudden question or because she didn't know the answer, so he continued speaking. “You wanted to know why it took me so long to come back... I've been thinking a lot about that, especially after hearing you talk to Ciri the other day.”

The woman rose on her feet from the cold ground, leaving the wolf pup next to his brother. “Geralt, what is this about?” she inquired, wide eyes watching him curiously and somewhat warily, like a deer startled by the presence of a noisy stranger.

“All my life, the one I remember at least, I’ve worked towards one goal and one goal alone… kill all monsters on the continent. It’s what I was trained to do and I never questioned it… I never wanted to do anything else, until I met you. What I feel for you…” 

Geralt paused, struggling to find the right words to describe the way his day brightened with her mere presence, how his mood improved if he saw her smile.

“I never felt anything like that before,” he let out a sigh, resigned to the fact that he could never explain in simple words what she made him feel without even realizing it. “That scared me. I was scared of what it could mean for the future, but more importantly, I was terrified of losing you. So I convinced myself that running away from you, from what I felt, was the right thing to do to protect you and keep you safe from all the shit I bring along... Now I know I was just protecting myself. You tried to tell me, but I wasn't ready to listen.”

She took a step toward him, looking up at him with wide eyes that sparkled in the weak winter sun. “Geralt, what are you saying?” She needed to hear him say it. After so much time of feelings left unsaid, she needed to hear the words coming out of his mouth so there would be no more conflicts or misunderstandings. She needed to be sure of what he felt.

“I'm saying I'm sorry... I'm saying I love you and I want you at my side, If you still want me too.”

She replied in the most direct way she could without using words. With a quick step, she closed the distance that separated them and joined her lips to Geralt's. As much as she had longed for that kiss, it was a timid one. Her lips barely brushed his, their noses brushing against each other as they leaned in a soft, intimate caress. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth that flooded her body as she felt Geralt reciprocate her kiss immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring the moment. It didn't last long, but it was enough to take her breath away.

When they pulled apart, she looked up at Geralt through her eyelashes. She met the amber of his eyes shining in a way she had never seen before. His hand rested on her cheek, calloused fingers caressing the soft skin. It was nothing new, yet the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. There was a softness in his eyes that she did not recognize. He admired her as if she were a lost relic, something of priceless value that he couldn't believe he had in front of his eyes.

And in a way, that was true. Even though he had just bared his soul to her. Even though she had kissed him. Even though deep down, he always knew his feelings were reciprocated. Despite everything, Geralt still couldn't believe that a woman as wonderful as her would choose to love him. Of all the people on the continent, of all the places that existed, she loved him and wanted to be by his side. As happy as he was that she did, it didn't feel real. Geralt did not feel worthy of the love of such a good woman, but he was willing to work hard every day of his life so that she would not regret her decision.

Geralt was the one who initiated the second kiss, which was much more confident than the first. His hand remained on her cheek while the other found its place on her waist, holding her close against him. Her lips were soft and warm against his, like a summer morning breeze —just as he had imagined them. When he sucked on her lower lip, she let out the subtlest moan, her hands clinging to his shoulders for support. Geralt became addicted to it instantly, feeling a strange sense of pride at having elicited such a reaction from her. He repeated the action, taking a mental note of the way she reacted to every little movement of his lips. He was desperate to know more about her, to find out the other sounds she made and the various ways her body would respond to his touch, but he restrained himself from deepening the kiss any further. They would have time for that.

“That was...” She tried to speak when they broke apart, her mind clouded with euphoria struggling to find words to describe what that kiss made her feel.

“Late.” Geralt finished for her, resting his forehead on hers.

“I was going to say 'better than I imagined', but 'late' works too.” She let out a chuckle. “So, what now? How do we go on from here?” It was a genuine question she had. She had fantasized many times about this moment —the big confession, the first kiss, the way it would all feel—, but it never got any further. It felt so far away, so impossible, that she had never really spent time thinking beyond happily ever after.

“Well, we can start by getting you out of the cold.” Geralt smiled, finally pulling away from her to start his way back to the fortress. He took her hand and noticed how cold it felt against his own.  “Come on, we need to get you inside so you can warm up.”

She smiled playfully. “Only if you help me.”

I hope you guys liked it! Sorry for the long wait, but it wil probably happen again lol

I have a few ideas for the next part. Without spoiling too much, I think it's time Yen makes an appearance to explain some of the gaps it the timeline when Geralt was away... so, lots of jealousy and angst coming!

BUT I'm not 100% sure of how thing are going to play out, so if you guys have any ideas of things you would like to see in the story (for this next part or future ones!) please drop an ask/message/comment thank youuu ily

[inexplicifics]

Cozytober #11 with Geralt/Eskel please? <3

It's more Cozytember at this point, I think, but here you go!

Geralt is puttering happily about, messing with B.B.’s careful placement of the decorations mostly for his own amusement, when there’s a knock on the door. He glances up to exchange a confused look with Eskel, who is ensconced comfortably in the largest and squashiest chair they own, joyfully immersed in a book that could easily be used as a bludgeoning weapon. “You expecting anyone?”

“Nope,” Eskel says, showing no inclination to get out of his chair.

Geralt snorts and pads over to the door - it’s late enough that they’ve long since sent B.B. and Marlene to their well-earned rest.

“Papa!” the Empress of North and South, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, first of her name, the Lady of Time and Space, Beloved of the Great Sun, Defeater of the White Frost, says gleefully, and throws her arms around Geralt in an embrace that knocks the breath out of him.

“Ciri,” Geralt wheezes. She’s wearing simple clothing better suited to a witcher than an empress, and she doesn’t have any entourage at all. “Good to see you,” he adds, hugging back hard enough to lift her off her feet. Ciri giggles.

“Ciri,” Eskel says, light footsteps approaching rapidly before his arms close around both of them together. “What are you doing here?”

“A girl can’t want to spend Yule with her family?” Ciri asks, slightly muffled against Geralt’s shoulder.

“Of course you can,” Eskel says, “but I thought Nilfgaard had all sorts of ceremonies on Yule.”

Ciri giggles, and they all untangle themselves so she can come in. “The main ceremonies are on the solstice,” she explains. “I left Morvran holding the fort; I can’t stay more than a day, but I brought presents!”

“We don’t need anything,” Geralt protests.

“You���ll like these,” Ciri says, and beckons out the still-open door into the night. “Alright, now!”

Geralt sucks in a sharp breath as his medallion vibrates hard at the same time as the center of their empty little courtyard is suddenly filled with an entire wagon.

“Geralt!” Jaskier cries, leaping down from the bed of the wagon; he’s wearing a comically long scarf and a brilliant crimson outfit. “We’re invading for Yule!” He turns to help his companion out of the wagon; Priscilla smiles warmly at Geralt and Eskel as she steps onto the cobblestones.

“Jaskier assures me we aren’t going to be too much of a strain on your hospitality,” she says.

“‘Course not, you’re always welcome,” Eskel replies gruffly. Geralt is too busy gaping. Lambert is in the driver’s seat of the wagon, Yennefer is unfolding languidly from her perch beside him, and there are two more people in the back: Keira of all people, and a lanky man with an eyepatch who Geralt doesn’t know at all.

“Well, pretty boy, got a place I can put the damn horse?” Lambert drawls.

Geralt shakes himself into motion, giving Lambert the driest look he can. “Of course I have a stable,” he says, and leaves Eskel to get all the people inside and find hot drinks while he and Lambert stable the horse next to Roach and Scorpion and the patient, sturdy cob who pulls the farm cart and rejoices in the unlikely and inaccurate name of Swift.

“Who’s your friend?” Geralt asks as they roll the wagon under cover. Lambert makes a low grumbly sound deep in his chest.

“Aiden,” he admits. “Jaskier found him wandering around near Novigrad, half out of his godsdamned mind. Patched him up and kept him at the Chameleon til he could get Yen to tell Keira to tell me.”

“Huh,” Geralt says. Wasn’t Aiden the Cat he and Lambert avenged several years ago? The one Lambert clearly loved? Less dead than expected is a fucking nice surprise, in that case. “And that’s…working, then?”

Lambert grins, crooked and real. “Keira thinks he’s charming.”

Geralt hums and takes the opportunity as they go through the doorway to wrap an arm around Lambert’s shoulders in a sideways hug. Lambert flails but doesn’t actually object.

“Happy for you,” Geralt tells him, and dodges out of the way of Lambert’s halfhearted kick, striding ahead to join Eskel in the squashy chair. Everyone else has already found seats around the fireplace, Priscilla cuddled up against Jaskier and Yen and Ciri sharing a couch and Aiden lounging on the hearth-rug with his head in Keira’s lap. They all have mugs of mulled wine and contented expressions, and Geralt looks around the room and thinks that Ciri, bless the girl, could not have brought him a better gift than this:

His family, together, happy.

(Also HERE on AO3!)

[thedemonofcat]

When Jaskier was a child, he wandered into the forest behind the manor and stumbled upon a group of Fae. At first, they welcomed the curious boy, inviting him to join their dance. But once the revelry ended, the Fae grew wary of being discovered. To ensure their secrecy, they silenced Jaskier, stealing away his voice.

Mute but undeterred, Jaskier still grew into the vibrant man the world would know. He mastered countless instruments, became a traveling bard, and wrote poems and ballads, even if he couldn’t sing them himself. His charisma and creativity shone despite his silence.

Jaskier's path still led him to Geralt, and their friendship remained as complicated and enduring as ever. He even found himself abandoned on a mountain, as fate seemed intent on keeping some things unchanged.

Yet, Jaskier’s silence often led others to underestimate him. When Nilfgaardian soldiers openly discussed their plans to capture Geralt as bait for Ciri, they paid no mind to the quiet bard in the corner, unaware that he was listening intently.

Jaskier knew one thing for certain: if he was going to rescue Geralt, he would need his voice back.

[mentalpolaroids]

Wolf's Home

(Part I)

Geralt of Rivia x female!Reader

Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and reunites not only with his family of witchers, but also with the person that makes him feel at home the most

a/n: this is sort of rewrite of S02E02. Sorry for the use of (y/n) but couldn't really think of a name for the reader. Also, this is my first try at writing for The Witcher so be nice to me please!!

.................................................................................

She woke up that morning expecting to face another routine-repeating day, possibly with an occasional healing of one of the witchers coming back to Kaer Morhen from a hunt, or coming up with a new excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat whatever crap Lambert cooked for them. His turn on food duty was always a dreadful one.

Her days were never too adventurous, not since Vasemir had insisted on a more permanent stay at the keep two years ago, when she was dragged through the Blue Mountains by a silver haired witcher, both injured, after fighting and killing a monster together. An encounter she still couldn’t really understand to this day, how they happened to be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same creature, but she knew better than to question Destiny. 

Even with her own wounds to take care of, she still healed Geralt of Rivia first, who fell under her natural charm like a trap. He wondered if it was a spell, the way he so easily was put at ease in her presence. She was a mage after all. But as the days passed, he concluded that there was no spell besides the one used to close the gash on his abdomen. That woman was simply a caretaker by heart, one that somehow remained open and pure even knowing of the existence of nasty beings out there in the Continent. Everyone else in the Fortress seemed to be as mesmerized, and so, she was welcomed with open arms to stay, and heal, and fight with the witchers. 

The ropes were starting to burn the palm of her hands from all the knots she had conquered in the last hour, but she definitely didn’t mind because it was at least keeping her hands warm as she stood outside, light snow falling over the already white ground. 

One of the few advantages of the icy weather was that they could hear when someone was approaching, the crunch of the footsteps over the snow being hard to disguise. She heard those in the distance, but it was of a horse. (y/n) dropped the rope and grabbed her sword, preparing herself for the sight of the intruder before making her own known. But, the sight wasn’t at all what she expected. She didn’t know what to expect at all, but it sure wasn’t a familiar brown horse carrying Geralt of Rivia accompanied by a blonde girl, who (y/n) quickly convinced herself must’ve been a princess, if not for her looks, for her posture. She looked like she didn’t belong there, nor next to someone with the nickname The Butcher of Blaviken. 

The girl got down from Roach and looked around curiously. Her dress blended with the snow, from afar, (y/n) wondered if she was even real. Her gaze didn’t last long on the girl when Geralt got down from his horse too, the mere sight of his face barely visible under his dark cloak sent a shiver of excitement to her stomach. He had always had that effect on her, but it seemed the longer she went without seeing him, the stronger the sensation got after meeting again. 

The witcher and the princess shared words (y/n) couldn’t really hear from where she was still in the hiding, and as they started to walk towards the main entrance of the Fortress, the mage put down her sword and walked towards them. 

“You sure we’re safe here?” the princess asked Geralt, who walked in front of her. (y/n) was not close enough to hear the question, not yet to be noticed. 

“Safer than out there.” 

Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of their footsteps coming to a stop, both turning their heads to their right, finally acknowledging her. Geralt’s lips curved into a brief smile, his yellow eyes softening when they locked with hers. (y/n) smiled back, the shiver in her stomach was now climbing to her chest and for a moment she forgot he could probably feel her heart beating faster. Good thing she didn’t mind him knowing how she felt around him. 

Three steps away from coming face to face with the witcher, she slowed her pace, planning to walk past them. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest friend in all the Continent.”

“It’s great to see you.” 

“Oh I’m afraid I was speaking to my best girl here.” (y/n) approached Roach, caressing the horse over her nose and planting a light kiss on her short fur, “But it’s great to see you too, Wolf.” she walked towards him again, for a second forgetting it wasn’t just the two of them there. The way Geralt followed every step of hers, his gaze warm even in the middle of a Winter day. (y/n) opened her arms to him, “Welcome home.”

The man embraced her tightly against him and it felt like getting drowned in memories of his days with her. He had forgotten how much he cherished her affection, and holding her reminded him how nice it was to let his guard down for a brief moment. It all felt like he had never left. 

“I missed you.” he murmured, unrecognizably self-conscious. He surely didn’t enjoy showing this vulnerable side of him, especially in front of someone else.

“I’m sure you did.” (y/n) let go of him, casting him a warm, welcoming smile, before looking to the girl standing behind him, now more curious about the pair’s dynamic than the Fortress, “And who’s this poor thing having to deal with your company?” 

“This is Ciri.” 

“Ciri.” (y/n) tried the name on her lips. She walked towards her with the same welcoming smile, but a different fondness in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ciri.” she said as she extended her hand to the girl, “I’m (y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” she spoke softly, clearly wary of meeting a new face, but the shadow of a smiling curve on her lips showed potential trust as she accepted the handshake. After all, the woman was obviously someone dear to Geralt, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” (y/n) smirked, hoping the cold outside cooled the warmth spreading across her face. She turned to Geralt, who watched the two girls interact, but the words were directed to Ciri, “I’m sure I have a lot to hear about you, too.” It was a warning to the witcher: an endless night of chatting was to come, questions needed to be answered, stories to be told and his whereabouts to be known. 

As if reading Ciri’s mind, (y/n) squeezed her shoulder and tilted her head towards the entrance, “Don’t worry, you are safe here.” 

“Keep up.” Geralt told the girl, and both followed (y/n). 

They both pushed the heavy wooden doors and walked into the main room of the Fortress that was occupied with chatty men and the smell of burning wood and ale. (y/n)’s words echoing through the wide space caught their attention. 

“Look what the snow dragged in, boys.”

All eyes turned to the mage and the murmur came to a stop when everybody noticed the figure standing behind her. Her attention turned to Geralt as well, in time to see him remove the hood of his cloak and finally getting a decent view of the face she missed so much. She also checked on Ciri, who looked uneasier than before, standing in the middle of a room full of men. (y/n) winked at her, hoping to reassure her everything was alright. Geralt noticed, and he too turned to the girl and nodded at her before moving to stand beside (y/n) as Lambert stood from his seat and walked towards them. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

“We thought you got lost.” Coën followed Lambert, “Or killed.” 

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Geralt smiled tenderly.

“Not yet. Sorry.”  

The mage elbowed his side. She had always hated when he implied the possibility of his death at any moment, considering what he was and he did, in reality it wasn’t a massive impossibility. Still, even a simple joke triggered a non-existent grief that resided in her chest everytime she had to see the witcher leave and go long periods of time without hearing a single word from or about him. In his presence, (y/n) pretended he would stay forever, and if he didn’t stay, he would come back. Everytime. 

Geralt caressed her back and brought her in for the embrace Lambert had already initiated. He then went on greeting and hugging the other witchers and, more than ever, Kaer Morhen felt like a real home. The family was back together. 

“I guess I’m back to being second favorite now that you’re back.” Lambert complained to Geralt, referring to (y/n).

“Who said you were even a favorite in the first place?” 

Geralt laughed. 

“I hope you’ve all been treating her right.”

“We do, but she’s a mean one. Lucky for her, we don’t dislike her cooking.” 

The banter was interrupted by Vasemir, who entered the room already smiling at the sight of the silver haired witcher. 

“Wolf. You’re home.” the elder joined the commotion, “Finally.”

Ciri, still feeling out of place, placed herself visibly between Geralt and (y/n).

“Yeah. I had to make a few stops.” the witcher replied, referring to the princess next to him. 

“He’s home!” 

Once again, the commotion grew around Geralt as they kept celebrating his return. Ciri smiled shyly watching the content interactions.

“Come on,” (y/n) extended her hand for the princess to take, “I’m going to introduce you to everybody.”

When everybody settled enough for the mage to be able to order everyone to be nice to Ciri, the men were somewhat curious about the unexpected guest. The girl seemed less vigilant as she was offered a seat and cup and conversation started flowing as if both her and Geralt had always been there. 

(y/n) stood next to him, a sigh leaving her nostrils as she crossed her arms and discreetly nudged the man’s broad figure. 

“Yeah, I know. I have a lot to tell.”

“Yeah. You do.” 

Geralt looked down at her to meet her eyes and, with a soft motion of his hand, uncrossed her arms. He smiled, in a way she knew he was promising to stay for a while. She couldn’t tell what he thought her eyes were saying, but whatever it was, he felt the need to hold her hand, hidden behind his cloak, caressing the cold skin of her knuckles with his thumb. 

“I’m home.” his hoarse voice, along with the softness of his touch and stare, nearly warmed her up on the spot. 

In the back of her mind, there was a voice telling her he would eventually leave again, but for once, she shut it down. 

.................................................................................

Part II soon!

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson finds himself in New York for work and gets distracted by an old friend. Warnings: toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), manipulation – if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 4.1k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

Chapter III: Fade Away

the chatter at her weekly brunch with friends was distracting. sloane lennox glared down at her phone as if it was the reason she was so pissed. jamani back on? what a terrible title for an article. what a horrible idea for jameson. imani st. cirie was everything that jameson didn't need. he was irresponsible, childishly demanding, and easily distracted. he was an artist with an artist's temperament. from what she knew of imani, the woman was the same. they just weren't a good couple. anyone could see that. she didn't get why jameson couldn't.

sloane! we're out of champagne!

"am i your mother? do you need permission? just order another bottle." sloane snapped, rolling her eyes as she continued to scroll.

she got to the images -- proof that jameson was sniffing around his ex. this was bullshit. sloane closed out of the site, scrolling her contact list and finding jameson's name. it rang in her ear, her agitation increasing the longer it went on. his smooth baritone was nowhere to be heard. the phone beeped, indicating she should leave a message so sloane simply hung up.

she stewed in her agitation, forcing herself not to call again. this was critical. jamie couldn't be pushed. if she told him to do something, he went the other way. this was going to take some finesse but sloane knew she was up to it. she had loved jameson since the first time she saw him. she knew him better than anybody

fifteen years old and shy, sloane hadn't made friends easily. only one gravitated towards her: genie adesanya. genie took sloane under her wing, welcoming her into her life with ease. it was because of genie that she'd met jameson. he had been seventeen and practically genie's stepbrother. handsome, and he knew it, jamie had charmed sloane. he'd been flirtatious but never inappropriate. eventually it settled into him cracking jokes and playing protector with she and genie. for two whole years, jamie had been hers. her friend, her protector, her crush. it all changed when he released his first album.

then he belonged to the world. jamie became james lucas. the crooning falsetto that she'd known intimately had finally been heard by the world. jamie's career took off then. sloane never had a chance to make him hers fully. her crush lay dormant, unfulfilled, while he dated his way through hollywood. models, actresses, singers. they came and went. sloane always remained. he eventually left them but he never left her.

sloane had finally gotten up the nerve to tell him how she felt in 2020 -- the same night he met imani st. cirie. she watched him walk into another woman's life but knew it wouldn't last. it never did. three years later, sloane had gotten nervous. jameson rarely lasted a year with a woman and there he was celebrating three with imani. it had practically driven her insane...but then they had broken up. she'd been so relieved that she didn't bother hiding her joy from anybody who'd listen. it caused the destruction of her friendship with genie -- but jameson remained.

he jumped into another relationship and just like clockwork -- it ended before a full year was up. sloane decided not to watch anymore. 2024 was her time with him. he had to see for himself that she was the one and only constant in his life. the only woman he could rely on.

the phone vibrated in her hand and sloane peered down at the screen with a smile. jamie was calling. now all she had to do was...shift his perspective.

it had been years since jameson was inside the moma. he spent many afternoons sitting in front of claude monet's lillies canvas when he was trying to establish a career on broadway. it felt good to return to his old stomping grounds -- this time from special invitation.

sloane had fussed and pouted until he promised to stop by and see her after his gq interview. he was jetlagged after flying to new york the day before and only planned to have a short visit before collapsing into the expansive bed in his suite.

it had been so long since he saw her face to face that he had been successfully guilted into making the time. texts and calls here and there filled the void in their friendship but it always felt better to see her in person. twelve years after they'd met, sloane was different. at twenty-seven, she'd grown up like they all had. she was an art dealer, smart as hell and sophisticated. glasses had been replaced by contact lenses. hasty ponytails had been swapped for expertly styled hair. converse sneakers turned into muaddi heels. but no matter what, she was still the girl who was trying to find her place.

he waited for her on the first floor, hands braced behind his back as he watched bustling crowds of people behind his sunglasses. several slowed to peer at him and jameson easily avoided eye contact. he didn't mind being a celebrity but he was too tired to be charming.

"jamie!" he heard called out and turned to see sloane heading his way. she wore a bright smile, expensive clothes, and heels that he was sure cost as much as her outfit. jameson quickly moved towards her, not letting her pull him into a hug. he turned her around with his hand to the small of her back and quickly walked her up the stairs. "what are you doing?" sloane laughed and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed.

"why'd you tell me meet you at the front door? hella people were down there. i don't feel like signing shit today." jameson fussed, not surprised that she laughed louder. sloane did what she wanted when she wanted.

"i'm sorry." she said softly, grasping his bicep as they moved to the second floor. there were still crowds there but they were much more interested in the art than they were in him. "i'm glad you came." sloane continued. "i missed you."

"i missed you too." jameson grumbled, walking along the floor with her. "we both live in cali though. why'd i have to fly to new york to see you if that was the case?"

sloane quirked a brow at him. "you tell me. last i heard, you were working on album, completely locked in, but then i find out you got time to get imani back?"

he scoffed, shaking his head but not denying the accusation. he had seen the same article and didn't give a damn about it. he didn't feel he needed to explain himself to sloane either. "you called me here to talk about my ex?"

"of course not." sloane told him. "i called you here to talk about me. my favorite subject." she let his arm go, framing her face with her own hands and jameson couldn't help but laugh. "i didn't know you'd be out here anyway until you mentioned the interview. i just wanted to see my friend. make sure he's okay. you know?"

"i'm fine." he told her, stopping in front of a painting and peering down at the brunette by his side. confiding in sloane wasn't strange. he told her and ej everything -- even shit he didn't tell genie anymore. "me and mani aren't back together. she's thinking about giving me another chance."

"i'm happy for you, jamie." she said softly. "but..." "but what?" "it didn't work the first time..." "because of me. i fucked up." "even so. love shouldn't be hard. you and imani? your love is hard." "but worth it. i love her." "i know you do. and you should. she's a wonderful girl. but what about you?" "what about me?" "you're an incredible man. exceptional. singular in every way. i think you deserve to be happy. you shouldn't have to make yourself small to make it work." "that's not what's happening with imani." "no?" sloane questioned. "what is she doing to make sure you guys have another chance? is she reassuring you? is she talking to you? it takes two to be in love."

jameson was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. no, imani didn't seem to be enthusiastic about their chances of trying again but could he blame her? "you don't understand, lo. i...i cheated. when we broke up? i cheated. it's my fault."

he watched as her eyes go wide with the information and she lapsed into silence. it didn't last long though. she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as they stood together. "that doesn't change the fact that you're a good man. so you made a mistake. anybody who knows you knows that you're good."

her constant belief in and support of him was invaluable. jameson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged him briefly. "thank you for saying that. but anything she says or does to me, i deserve it. and i'm going to take it -- if it means we can start over."

sloane gave him a brief nod of her head and leaned her body against his. "i understand. i still don't think she's right for you. you need someone to believe in you. i think too much has happened between you and imani. i don't know if she's that woman for you anymore."

he hoped like hell sloane was wrong. imani was the only woman he'd genuinely loved. his selfishness had robbed him of love and he was feeling the consequences heavily. she walked ahead, pulling him with her and jameson went -- his mind on imani and if he was fooling himself by thinking they were going to get it right the second time around.

"c'mon. let me buy you lunch. i made reservations at gramercy tavern." sloane told him sweetly as she wrapped both arms around him, stilling his movement. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just want what's best for you."

jameson peered down at her to say no, to make his excuses. he was exhausted and wanted to sleep but one look at her pouting face -- and he couldn't do anything but laugh. "i know you do. let's go eat now. i'm tired." he said softly, pressing a kiss to her head and wrapping his arm around her shoulder before leading her down the grand staircase.

with a kiss to her head and a brief hug, jameson had left her outside the st. regis hotel. as she made her way upstairs, her phone pinged yet again in her purse and she ignored the sound until she crossed the threshold of her suite. once she was comfortable, she unlocked her phone and stretched across the couch.

[ e. ricardo ] : he's not here yet [ e. ricardo ] : if this is bullshit, i'm going to write my next column about you and you won't like the details i give [ e. ricardo ] : he's in place. my photographer is there. [ e. ricardo ] : snapped you two. how cute. [ e. ricardo ] : where are you going with him? [ e. ricardo ] : hello?? my photographer lost you two on 53rd st

sloane sighed, deleting all the texts from her phone. calling the paps wasn't out of the unusual for her but this one was a pushy bastard. she did it when she worked with particularly high profile clients and when she just wanted her name circling with people who could boost her career. but she had never called them about jamie. ernest had practically salivated at the idea of getting exclusive pictures of jameson doing anything. even if it was just a lunch date with a friend.

she pushed call on the contact, listening to it ring. when he answered, sloane didn't bother acting friendly. "are the pics good?"

ernest quickly reassured her they were. he even offered to send them to her but she quickly denied. the less proof they had of a connection to one another, the better. she told him she wanted them up online before the next morning and he obliged before they ended the call. the pictures weren't scandalous but she knew it'd shake imani. cheating boyfriend in another city with pretty friend? wrapping his arms around her? she knew it'd do something to the other woman.

was it a move that could backfire on her? yes. imani could decide to fight for jameson but sloane was okay with that. she had decided to fight for him -- why not have a worthy opponent? she knew jameson would be asleep soon. he probably wouldn't see them when they were posted. even if he had, she could always pretend to be just as dismayed as him. she'd even take to social media to help clear up any rumors.

the pretty, kind hearted friend of james lucas. the classy girl that people would make people say "well why isn't he with her?". that was going to be her new image. and she knew it'd change if those pictures looked as cozy as it felt being with him. suddenly, people would wonder about them. he would wonder about them. all she needed was for that switch to flip in his mind.

sloane rose from the couch and went to run herself a bath. she ignored the buzzing of her phone for the next few hours -- realizing the article had clearly come out. now she had to be careful if she was going to make this happen. jameson would never forgive her if he knew she was going to do her best to stop a reunion with imani.

the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the room and jameson smiled in his sleep. it was the song he'd written for imani. he played it as the ringtone anytime she called. it'd been so long since he heard it playing from his phone. imani didn't call him anymore. he called her. he texted her.

still -- he could hear it and it stirred him from sleep. jameson stretched across the bed, sitting up in the darkened bedroom. he fumbled across the bed, reaching for his phone. by the time he snatched it up, the ringing had stopped. he could see the time on his screensaver and blinked the sleep from his eyes. it was six in the morning...which meant it was around noon for her in italy. they had exchanged texts since she'd been gone. it had only been three days but he had missed her deeply.

seeing he had two missed calls from imani made him frown. he wanted to hear her voice. he unlocked his phone to call her back but then the text came through. he opened it -- thinking it was more of cute and humorous conversation they'd been having for the past few days.

[ mani ]: i don’t know what type of bitch you take me for, but a stupid one, you know i’m not that. i told you no more bullshit so why i’m seeing pictures of you cuddled up with sloane at the fuckin moma? like i said i’m not a dumb bitch. you want to cuddle up with her, then be with her. i’m done.

jameson read the text twice, confusion making his brows furrow. "what the fuck?" he muttered to himself. it felt like somebody had put his ass in the blender and he was all mixed up. he immediately tried to call imani. no ringing. straight to voicemail. he'd been blocked by her enough to know the hallmarks of it. "fuck!" he cursed angrily, pulling the phone from his ear to send her a text that he knew she wouldn't see.

baby, i don't know what fuck you're talking about. ain't no bullshit with me and her. you know that. call me back.

he waited a few minutes but with no response, jameson climbed out of bed as he clicked his way through social media. it wasn't hard to find the 'just in' and tmz articles complete with computers. he and sloane talking. he and sloane laughing. he and sloane hugging. the kiss to her head. jameson groaned. actions he thought of as friendly definitely looked like something more. even he could admit that. reading the comments would do him no good but he saw that each had thousands.

even his instagram had an influx of activity. people commenting on pictures from months ago. even sloane had issued a statement of sorts where she asked people not to speculate about her personal life. this was bad. and he knew there was only one move he could make now.

he scrolled through his contact list and looked for genie's number. it rang -- a sign that she hadn't blocked him -- but she didn't answer. jameson left a terse message, telling her to call him back before he hung up and called ej.

sloane had played her part well. she'd been shocked and aghast. properly outraged on behalf of her famous friend. she scrolled through the comments with relish. for every one that called jameson cheating scum, there were two that said they looked cute together. for every comment that said imani deserved better, there were two asking what sloane's instagram was.

she had posted to her story, demanding an apology for the invasion of privacy and ensured that she named jameson as her 'close friend' -- nothing more, nothing less. that was enough to set speculation off once more. not the conversation wasn't just about "jamani" -- it was about imani, jameson, and sloane.

just as she was about to scroll more comments, a call came through on her phone. genie's name flashed across her screen and she froze before answering it. the two girls hadn't spoken in a year. sloane's opposition to imani had put her on the wrong side of genie. for some reason, genie had chosen imani over her and sloane never forgot it.

still, she answered the phone with a kind, curious tone -- interested in what her former friend could possibly have to say.

"are you sleeping with jameson?" genie asked abruptly and sloane laughed. no hello. no how are you? no fake bullshit. she got right to the shit and sloane knew she had to handle the other woman carefully.

"are you out of your mind?" "that's not an answer." "genie, you know jamie and i aren't like that." "no. but i know you want to be."

sloane frowned, annoyed at the fact that genie would so bluntly state the facts. she couldn't have genie running around telling anybody that. especially jameson. not before she could fully get imani out of the picture.

"that was a stupid crush, genie. and it's cruel of you to bring it up. jamie and i have a real friendship and you know that. or you would if you hadn't cut me off for imani." sloane disputed, pleased when genie didn't say anything for a minute.

"he loves imani, sloane." "but does she truly still love him?" "that's for them to figure out." "i don't think it's hard to decide if you love someone or not." "that is for them to figure out, sloane. you cannot get involved." "i'm not involved. he's my friend and i'm going to protect my friend. just like you're doing now." "it's not protecting him if people think you guys are fucking. if you care about jamie, help him."" that's exactly what i'm doing."

sloane hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure. she wasn't wrong. jameson and imani were too ill matched to make it work. she was just helping him face that fact. the sooner he did, the better it would be for him.

"yerrrrrrr" ej answered the phone unseriously, already knowing why jameson was calling. he had seen the articles and the posts. he'd seen the comments and wondered -- was his best friend holding out on him? jameson and genie and sloane had a shared childhood that ej didn't quite get. but he didn't try very hard to understand. he didn't really care.

"mani blocked me. i need you to call her for me."

ej snorted, shaking his head. "nah." he heard his best friend sigh loudly, frustration covering every inch of the sound. "i don't want to get cursed out by proxy. it did look like something was up with you and sloane."

"it's not! at least call her then click me in on the call."

he could hear in jameson's tone that he meant it. there was nothing happening with sloane. that was good. sloane was a pretty girl but ej could tell that if jameson broke her heart, she'd never recover. she'd never be able to give him what he got from being with imani. what that was...only jameson knew. still...ej denied him. "that'll be a hell nah."

"ellington, i swear to god..." "nigga done forgot his manners and everything, that's crazy." "mani is about to walk away from me for good. and you not gone help me?" "calm your ass down. you said nothing happened so that's one point in your favor. just...gimme a minute. i'll call you back."" i'm serious, man. i gotta -- " "i know, bruh. just...trust me. give me ten minutes."

reluctantly, jameson agreed. it took ej five minutes to calm him down. he had to promise to call back within ten minutes. ej went down his contact list and landed on the only one without a name. she simply had glasses, needle and thread, and a purple heart emoji where her name should be. it was foolish but it summed up their relationship pretty well.

she answered within three rings and ej smiled as he stretched across his bed. "ms adesanya. how you doing?" ej heard her sigh and knew she was already annoyed with him. good.

"let me guess. jameson told you to call?" "how'd you guess?" "she doesn't want to talk to him." "i figured. i had to give it a shot tho. that's my boy." "tell your boy to stop cuddling with bitches in public." "oh, she's a bitch? i thought you and sloane were cool." "we were. then we weren't." "shame. i remember when yall were the three musketeers. you, her, and jameson." "was there anything else you needed, ellington?" "yes, imogen. i'd like you to convince imani to let jameson explain."" i'll take it under consideration. anything else?" "yeah. are you in la? let's grab a drink. we gotta figure out how to help our dumb ass friends." "i'm out of the country. we'll be back next week." "we? you in spain with imani?" "not spain. italy. we're in rome." "oooh. yeah yeah. i remember now. rome. hotel...the fancy place with the birds and the steps." "what? there are no stairs outside here." "yes, there are. they're on the east side of the hotel." "ellington, there are no stairs here." "baby, i googled the hotel. it's hotel danieli, ain't it?" "he told you wrong. we're at the st. regis rome." "ohhhhhh. oh shit. that was somebody else i was thinking of. well -- we should get a drink when you're back. our best friends stress us out. let's relax together." "um...okay. sure."

he could hear the confusion in her voice and ellington grinned, knowing that he had agitated her into telling him what hotel they were at. he'd always thought genie adesanya was gorgeous. everything was beautiful about her. her grace, her kindness. even the way she got her damn nails down. nothing but pure elegance. she stood on the fringes of his friendship with jameson. they never truly got to know one another. so he settled for being the annoying friend of a friend.

over the years, he'd periodically pop in, send her an annoying text, and then pop right back out. she probably didn't even know he liked her and ej wanted to keep it that way. friend groups mixing were messy -- clearly evidenced by the newest round of bullshit with imani and jameson. he was content to tease and provoke genie until she furrowed her pretty eyebrows. that would have to be enough.

once he got her off the phone, ej called jameson back -- two minutes before the ten minute deadline was up. he knew his friend was close to a crashout and figured the only way to stop it was for him to get active. a phone call wasn't going to get it.

"get your ass on a plane, fix it, and then get back before the weekend is over. we got shit to do."

[bomberqueen17]

CHAPTER UPDATE: Fit for Thrones

yah i know!!!! it was an unintentional hiatus. and i kept rereading what i had and being like agh. agh agh. a bit needs to go here. the next installment needs this other bit in it. and finally i was like no it doesn't. i can just not follow that storyline for a bit and let it cook offscreen. meanwhile i have so much pent up force behind morvran and ciri and lu. so.

without further ado here is the next chapter, in which ciri and lu get a sort of portal date, abridged, and then Lu gets a fashion makeover and Ciri is better than usual at keeping her face journey to herself. (Only because of the lack of one notable, traumatizing accessory, mind, but that is not explored on-camera.)

Fit For Thrones, Chapter 3, featuring bar graphs of war crimes, and Lu revealing herself to be Not Exactly An Outdoorswoman

“We’re safe here,” Ciri laughed, mouth enticingly hot on Lu’s neck. “Let me under your skirt.” “Ah,” Lu said, considering what a vulnerable position that would put her in and weighing that against the welcome pressure of Ciri’s caressing hands around her waist. Normally making love outdoors led to some amount of restraint, for fear of someone happening by and catching you at it. This was not really better, she rather thought; being caught by a person was a thrilling sort of potential danger, with more or less high stakes dependent on context, but getting attacked by wildlife was less of a thrill and more just plain terrifying. “It’s getting dark.” “So it is,” Ciri said, nuzzling at her throat. “I’ve got very good night-vision.” “I don’t,” Lu said, and then repented of it. “Not that I don’t trust you to see any danger first anyway. But I’ve never been… in the wilderness like this.” “Oh,” Ciri said, and laughed. “I never even thought of that! I spend so much time in the wild. But I suppose it would be unsettling, if you’re used to city life.” “I believe you that it’s safe,” Lu said, sitting up slightly to hear better, which effectively trapped one of Ciri’s intently-roaming hands against the ground, “but what was that rustling noise?”

yes yes yes i have strayed from y'all with my bisexual disaster sailors but now i'm back because i have so many ideas to file the numbers off of, no fear i will never settle down on anything again

[popawritter12]

Yandere! Geralt of Rivia headcanons.

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Probabilities that your loved ones will be killed.

Let's start by talking about the fact that he already has experience killing both humans and monsters or creatures that escape our imagination, or even people of other races.

But he usually doesn't want to apply it, if he can avoid spilling blood, he will. Although some of them probably end up dying, more out of self-defense than out of his jealousy.

My guess is a 30% chance, the only exception is that those people ARE dangerous to you but you refuse to accept it.

First impressions

You met him because he saved your life. Whether by humans or monsters, or other creatures.

You were infinitely grateful to him, to the point that you insisted that he can always come to you if he needs help or a place to stay.

Even with sex or not involved, we can assume that he ends up accepting your offer, even if he didn't initially want it.

Unlike other people, you always treated him like another human being; It wasn't difficult for him to trust you seeing how kind you were, although at first he doubted your true intentions more than once.

Fall in love

You both got along well, even with all the negative comments from people you knew, you just thought they were people's exaggerations.

After the first time you welcomed him into your home, he felt that one day he would have to come back to visit, even if it was for something as minimal as buying supplies or upgrading his armor and/or tools. That idea of returning crossed his mind several times, until he visited you again.

You recognized him instantly, and greeted him as if you were seeing a great friend. Both of you shared a moment together where they told how things had gone since the last time they had been together. If you pay attention, you will notice that he seems more open or even more relaxed than usual.

Geralt didn't know why he felt so much trust with you, but he liked that feeling; he couldn't deny the fact that he preferred being with you over other people. It took him quite some time to realize the reality of his feelings.

Although you assumed that he constantly visited you or that he enjoyed your presence it was because he fully trusted you as a trusted friend, the reality was different.

And you didn't notice it until you saw that every time he visited you (we assume once a month or even more), he seemed more attentive to you or flirted with you more regularly.

Beginning of "Yanderism"

After a couple of months, that overwhelming feeling slowly escalates. He couldn't confess what he felt; Whether it was because of how dangerous his job was or the knowledge that many humans or other creatures would try to kill you, it was a thought that sometimes ate his mind and kept him thinking all day, going around and around the same issue.

Both Ciri and other people are worried about him, he denies what he feels or what he thinks, even getting angry because of how difficult it was for him not to be able to get you out of his head.

And it's not until he finally lets his feelings take over that there is no turning back.

(From this point forward, there is no way back)

First murder or Yandere act.

He would kill someone very close to you, not out of self-defense, nor because that person was a danger to you, but at one point, his jealousy took over him completely.

Geralt had a hard time believing it when he did it, since he almost never let himself be carried away by his emotions. But this time, he had screwed up, and he knew that sooner or later you would find out.

Even if he tried to hide it, you end up finding out what he did. You deceived yourself, trying to believe that it was just a lie, or that the situation at that moment led him to defend himself on his behalf or to kill him for something that person had not told you.

But in the end, lies have short legs.

He saw you cry and argue with him, yell at him about why he had done such a thing, and that your dead family member or friend had never done anything to hurt him.

And he was forced to act on impulse.

Relationship or kidnapping

After he confessed, you had already grown afraid or disgusted with him, not because he was a witcher, but because he had harmed someone you loved through a simple act of jealousy.

You reject him, feeling disgusted with his decision; You hoped he would leave you alone, but he couldn't go back, and you knew that the hole in his heart that your abandonment would leave was never going to be filled.

And he does it, he forces you to go with him, even tied up or kicking, he was always going to be able to with you. And no matter who gets in the way, no one could stop him.

Coexistence

In this case, it is not very good. You feel afraid that he will hurt you, or hate for all the damage he did in your life, but he still seems so calm around you.

He would hate hurt you, hate the idea of hurting you and causing any kind of pain that makes you cry. Of course, that is if we talk about the physical sense.

We can say that their punishments are more mental.

He would talk to you about how much he loves you, he would show you with affection and make you feel the body heat of another living being for weeks on end. And then he would become distant, he wouldn't touch you and he would rarely respond to you like you normally do.

The more violent you get with him, the less effect it will have on his way of punishing.

Of course, if you show obedience and affection, the affectionate and loving side of him would always be there, and he would never leave you alone.

In case of kidnapping, where would he take you?

Next to him, everywhere. Unless you have managed to escape from him more than once, which would cause him to make the drastic decision of leaving you locked in a place away from civilization and any kind of help or contact with humans or any damn species.

It would be difficult for someone to manage to snatch you from him, considering everything he is capable of doing in a non-yandere state.

Marriage and family.

In this case, I don't see the possibility of marriage.

I mean, he already sees you as his destined partner and he wants you to be together in this life, and in others to come. However, he is not the least bit interested in marriage.

Regarding Geralt's friends, they know almost nothing about you... It's hard for them to believe that he is capable of something so extreme, but when they see it, they only understand that they must keep a certain distance from him if they don't want to cause problems. .

And, in case it wasn't obvious, your family has no say in anything at this point in history.

↘If possible, children?

It is NOT POSSIBLE.

Now, if we assume that by some fucking magic trick from I don't know where the possibility of having a child with you comes from, I'm sure he would be more than happy to take it.

Reasons to be a Yandere:

-During his entire life he suffered a lot of discrimination from many people, he is used to an almost 100% hostile environment, and having the possibility of being with someone who from minute 0 was kind to him and treated him with respect and affection... is something he wouldn't let go so easily.

-Let's say that it is very difficult for him to develop a feeling of trust with someone, especially when that someone is surrounded by people who constantly remind you that you should not interact with them.

-He is used to killing, (more than anything due to the context of the world in which he lives and how his life was) let's say that someone who already has enough experience taking lives from other living beings can implement those actions in others (not specifically harm you, if not those he may consider dangerous)

Extra data:

-Geralt is sweet to you, and he usually likes to have you in his arms to know that he can protect you from anything.

-He is the type of Yandere who would never force you to have sex, under no circumstances would he allow himself to subject you in such a way.

-I would venture to say that Geralt was irritated by how Jaskier constantly seeks to talk to you, not out of jealousy, but because his presence bothers him.

≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦≧◉◡◉≦

I had this character in my head for DAYS to make him headcanons hajdajahdjqi

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

What did the Roche/Ciri ship do to you? Why is he bad? Is his existence simply an insult to you?

okay, anon, you've won me over.

i've written a roche/ciri fic just for you. It's about fighting injustice, realising the world is so much bigger than you ever realised, bonding over feeling different, finding love in unexpected places even when everyone else is against your relationship, and a shared love of music.

I've put it under the cut because its quite long. Enjoy!

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second.

Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead.

I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? -

A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know.

But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that.

A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now.

I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone.

Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.

Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow!

Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power.

More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative.

Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.

What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?

I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there.

- Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess.

"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do.

Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee.

Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. -

Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite!

She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working?

I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.

Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! -

It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves.

Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. -

Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no!

[witchermonstermayhem]

Witchery Yuletide - It's a Wrap

A huge thank you to everybody for participating in the event with fics, art, moodboards, etc., hope you had a lot of fun! 👏 👏 👏

@morriganwarrior @bergwerkderbilder @aquerontesque @astaldis

@ooksaidthelibrarian @inexplicifics @arestlessrunaway

Also many thanks to everybody who liked and reblogged here on tumblr, and kudosed and commented on Ao3 ❤️! Hope we managed to bring a smile to your cold winter days!

Reglogging of this post is also very much welcome and appreciated, thank you!

Ao3 collection here.

And here are all the works in one post, enjoy!

Door 1 - Cold 🥶:

Cold Morning by LeeMorrigan:

Yennefer wakes to find Jaskier has gone one cold, winter morning. The two share said and unsaid thoughts as they hope for the return of their loved ones, and Ciri sleeps safely back in the cabin. (friendship, general audiences)

Door 2: Shooting Stars 💫:

Not An Apocalypse by Molanna:

It is Yule 1268 at Kaer Morhen, the longest night of an eventful year. After an opulent Yule dinner and while her sick lover is sleeping under Regis's watchful eye, Yennefer and her friends have a look at the night sky over Kaer Morhen. It has a surprise in store for the witchers, sorceresses and humans who are celebrating together, and this time it is not a bad one. (F/M, Ciri/Dara, Yennefer/Cahir, teen and up)

Door 3 - Old Friend:

Yuletide Delight Chapter 1: Old Friends by Molanna:

Regis visits Jaskier at the Chameleon in Novigrad. But he is not only there to say hello to an old friend. (friendship, general audiences)

Door 4 - Shelter:

Shelter From The Storm by Molanna:

Not long after they have left Toussaint on their way to free Yennefer and to find Ciri, Geralt and his company have to weather a nasty blizzard. (Hanza friendship, teen and up)

Door 5 - Chocolate 🍫:

Yuletide Delight Chapter 2: A delicious treat by Molanna:

Together with Jaskier, Regis goes shopping for presents at the Yule market in Oxenfurt. Will his friends at Kaer Morhen like what he buys? (friendship, general audiences)

Door 6 - Fire 🔥:

snuggle in by Aqueronte:

Yennefer has a rough day, but sometimes accepting help is difficult, even from someone you love. (F/F, Yennefer/Tissaia, teen and up)

Door 7 - Cat 🐈:

Esmeralda, No! by Molanna:

Radovid has prepared a nice Yule surprise for Jaskier. However, he has failed to consider what will inevitably happen if you add a cat to the equation. (M/M, Radovid/Jaskier, teen and up)

Door 8 - Flowers 🌷/ Candle🕯️:

Yuletide Reflections by Sabis_dream_world:

Jaskier looks at his partners and Ciri as they prepare for Yuletide and can't help but feel happy. (F/M/M, Yennefer/Jaskier/Geralt, general audiences)

May All Your Yuletides Be Chapter 1 by Runaway_Writer:

It was the same candle that now sat before her. A crooked navy-blue ribbon tied about its stocky circumference holding a sprig each of pine and spruce to its surface, angled into a V. A snipping of holly tucked between them and a thin wick poking out the uneven top. A gift. Tissaia blinked, momentarily stunned. Three times Yennefer left a Midinváerne gift for Tissaia and one time Tissaia gave one in return. (F/F, Yennefer/Tissaia, Teen and up)

A Special Candle by Molanna:

It is close to Yule. Ciri goes time travelling and happens upon an extraordinary candle. (Family fluff, general audiences)

Door 9 - Hot Spring:

Hot Springs by LeeMorrigan:

Geralt's old wounds protest after so much time on the road, standing to watch over Ciri and the Hansa at a festival, and his old wounds aching. Regis suggests a nearby hot spring to soothe the aching. Geralt gets some company, and decides that perhaps they need to start a new tradition. (F/M, Geralt/Yennefer, teen and up)

Door 10 - Yule Tree 🌲:

To Tree or not to Tree by Molanna:

Something is missing at Kaer Morhen. Will it still be a memorable Yule for Jaskier the bard? (friendship, teen and up)

Door 11 - Puppy 🐶

A Fluffy Present by Molanna:

Cahir and Gallatin have found refuge in Toussaint under Fringilla's protection. They decide to send her a present, but what? (M/M Cahir/Gallatin, teen and up)

Door 12 - Mistletoe:

Mistletoe and Misunderstandings by Inexplicifics:

Aiden has been pining for almost two decades now. But surely, surely mistletoe is an obvious enough hint? (M/M, Aiden/Lambert, teen and up)

Under the Mistletoe by Molanna:

While spending his first winter at Kaer Morhen, Cahir learns something about northern Yule traditions. Will he enjoy the lesson? (F/M, Cahir/Ciri, teen and up)

Door 13 - Snow ❄️:

Snowdrifts and Dreams by LeeMorrigan:

Jaskier makes it to the inn to be warmed by his winter-loving Wren. (Jaskier/OC fluff, teen and up)

Snow by Molanna:

It snows and snows and snows. And Geralt is cold. But Regis knows an easy remedy. (nothing explicit though, just friendship, general audiences)

The Malheur Pass by Molanna:

On their way to rescue Yennefer, Geralt and his company cross the Malheur Pass - not a good idea in the middle of winter. (Hansa friendship, general audiences)

An Ingenious Invention by Molanna:

On their way through the wintery mountains, Geralt and his Hansa discover a hut in a glade and decide to spend the night there. It is a quite special hut. It might even be fun. (Hansa friendship fun, teen and up)

Door 14 - Kiss:

by Aqueronte: Fan Art Tissaia/Yennefer (F/F)

Door 15 - Baking 🍪:

Jaskier's Jolly Yule Jumble Chapter 2 - The things one does by Molanna:

Another festive event is coming up in Toussaint and Jaskier has the perfect idea for how to celebrate it with his Hansa. He only needs to convince Geralt and the others that his idea for their Yule party will be fun, lots of fun. (Hansa friendship fun, teen and up)

Door 16 - Moon 🌙 :

beautiful Witchery full moon gifs from the games by bergwerkderbilder

Door 17 - Snowman ☃️ :

Angoulême's Wintery Surprise by Molanna:

During their stay at Beauclair Castle in Toussaint, Angoulême has a wintery surprise for her Hansa. (Hansa friendship, general audiences)

Door 18 - Wool 🧶:

The Knitcher by bookscorpion:

Regis and Geralt surprise each other. (M/M, Regis/Geralt, general audiences)

Door 19 - Games 🃏:

Witchery Yuletide Quote Memory

Witchery Yuletide Wordgrid Puzzle

Door 20 - Unicorn 🦄 & Surprise:

The Tailor And The Unicorn by Molanna:

Stribog, the wandering storyteller is in town again and the village children gather around for some nice, exciting entertainment. Of course, Nimue and her older sister Orla are among them. Will Stribog tell them of witchers again, or of Ciri, the lost Princess of Cintra? Or will it be an entirely different story today? (fairy tale crossover, Witcher Ciri & Lambert, teen and up)

The Itcher by Molanna:

Geralt wants to surprise Regis. Unfortunately, there are complications. (M/M, Geralt/Regis, teen and up)

Door 21 - Mittens 🧤:

Knitted Comfort by LeeMorrigan:

Cahir is lent a pair of mittens and the warmth of the gesture, and the owner of the mittens, opens the heart of a certain member of the Hansa. (F/M, Cahir/OC, fluff, teen and up)

Door 22 - Ice Skating ⛸️:

Frozen - Or: Laughter is the best medicine by Molanna:

Ciri wakes up from a nightmare. Luckily, Geralt is already there. And he has the best cure for this haunting, bad dream. (Family fluff, teen and up)

Geralt sledding down a mountain gif by bergwerkderbilder

Door 23 - Present 🎁:

The Perfect Gift by Molanna:

Gallatin has the perfect gift for Cahir. (M/M, teen and up, fluff with a sprinkling of mild smut)

Jaskier's Jolly Yule Jumble Chapter 4 - A Mixed Bag Of Surprises by Molanna:

Finally it's time for the presents. What have the members of Geralt's Hansa made for each other? (Hansa friendship fun, teen and up)

Door 24 - Love/Free prompt choice

May All Your Yuletides Be - Chapter 4 by Runaway_Writer:

In which, finally Tissaia offers a gift of her own. (F/F, Yennefer/Tissaia, Teen and up)

A Name to Remember by Molanna:

Ciri's baby is born and a very nervous Cahir has to learn how to be a dad. Luckily Jaskier is a good teacher. And then, of course, the baby needs a name. (F/M, Ciri/Cahir, family fluff, teen and up)

Ice and Fire by Molanna:

It is freezing cold and they should have stayed in Kaer Morhen, but the drowner problem in the little town at the foot of the Blue Mountains had to be taken care of before more children disappear under the icy surface of the pond in the forest. Only now, Coën is suffering from hypothermia and Cahir is not that much better off. (M/M, Cahir/Coën, teen and up)

In Dreams by Molanna:

Yennefer dreams of Tissaia. (F/F, Yennefer/Tissaia, bittersweet, teen and up)

And some ambient Witcher music to go with your reading, enjoy!

[vesemirsexual]

insane to me how some people characterise lambert in tw3 as a simple prick or angry asshole when his on-going narrative theme is grief like.

first we have aiden. who lambert is clearly angry and grieving about, who we know was a rare close friend on the path and someone who he had an extremely high opinion of.

then we have his mother (+ by extension his childhood) and there’s very clear grief there arising from a child trying to protect a parent from domestic violence.

and then there’s voltehre. again, lamberts grief is the angry kind, but it’s clearly a significant memory and a significant loss for him.

and then there’s vesemir. and it’s easy to see on the surface how maybe you could think that lambert viewed him as nothing more than an abusive prick but the fact is that he immediately rebukes yennefer the second he doesn’t like her tone about the old man. he clearly says that vesemir could have his sword when he died and that it fits perfectly in his hand, and like i can only imagine how that conversation even came to be. lambert hates kaer morhen but still comes back; likewise, we know that vesemir has no problem telling people they’re not welcome at kaer morhen, and yet they fight and fight and they both still end up back there, and lambert seriously pisses him off and vesemir is the one who fucks off for a whole month. and it’s more apparent if keira isn’t present, but lambert is devastated at his funeral, the person most effected after ciri.

lambert is anger on the surface, and under all that is just grief after grief.

[feyrianedoesart]

Welcome back, Ciri !

[starwrittenfates]

𝐏𝐒𝐀 ---

In regards to my last post, I feel it's time I finally break my peace about this because a lot of rp blogs who have Harry Potter muses have been getting so much unnecessary drama directed towards them lately. I've been holding back, but it's time I finally address this in my rules (and heck, I'll even put it on my pinned post because it's sadly become a weird issue as of late.)

This is not only in regards to my Harry Potter muses, but some of my other muses and fandoms on this blog too.

I understand if you don't want to follow certain blogs that might make you uncomfortable. That's your prerogative and choice...but to bash others who rp certain fandoms, characters or even send anon hate to them is shitty. This is supposed to be a fun hobby that's stress free. If you don't like something or feel comfortable, don't follow. Don't interact. Block. It's simple as that.

When it comes to problematic creators, there is such a thing as separating them from their media. It doesn't mean you support them or stand with their views! You are allowed to like what brings you comfort and joy and still not agree with them. Heck, you shouldn't even have to state that, but these are the times we are living in currently. What is problematic are the people attacking others without understanding this!

I like Severus Snape as a character. I know some in the fandom may think differently of him, but he's meant to be a complex character that others are supposed to debate about in college classes for centuries---is he a hero or a villain? That's what makes him compelling. There is more to him than meets the eye. He will always be one of my favorite characters and that's why you will probably never see him leave this blog. Hence, if you don't like Snape as a character, then this blog probably isn't for you.

Hating on the female characters/ocs because they get in the way of your ships is just... *sighs* It's almost 2025. Let people ship what they want to ship! Let people like what they wanna like! You don't have to agree with it and that's okay, but you don't have to bash others or send anon hate because you don't agree with it either. It's not rocket science. We're tired of it. Cut the shit.

I like the Witcher Netflix. Granted, it’s not perfect by any means, but I still like it. While I don’t follow it for my muses, preferring the books and games storyline, I do use FCs from it and reblog things from it for my Ciri. Anyone from The Witcher Netflix rp is welcomed to interact with me. Any hate towards it will not be tolerated.

[raivenreine]

Blond and black, good and evil

Ciri, Avallac’h, and Eredin: a tangled web of who liked whom and whose destiny belonged to whom.

Let’s unpack this drama step by step. What follows is a rough translation of my short essay in Russian, which wouldn’t have been possible without the tireless efforts of my dear friend Livingonmyown. Her mastery of Polish and saintly patience helped us dive into the Aen Elle chapters together, meticulously comparing the original text to the Russian translation. And let me tell you, the Russian version took more creative liberties than an amateur bard after a few pints.

In this version, I’ll focus on the English translation, which, surprisingly, seems to have done a little less butchering than its Russian counterpart. Progress!

Let’s kick things off from the beginning. Avallac’h genuinely believed he was Ciri’s destiny—just like Geralt once did. Except Ava seemed to think he was even destinier. (Yes, that’s totally a word now.) How else can we explain his borderline giddy reaction, practically leaping for joy, when he said this?

No one could ever convince me that our dear sage meant anyone other than his all-knowing, ever-scheming self.

Could he have meant Auberon? Not a chance. Ava worked far too hard to bring Ciri to the world of the Aen Elle for it to be about anyone else. He even moonlighted as a tour guide for dh’oine visitors, proudly leading them to the Tower of the Swallow. And why? So some Buyvid fellow could scribble together a manual for Ciri, just so she’d read about the Tower and march straight to it.

And what was supposed to happen next? Naturally, the legendary elven guide Avallac’h would materialize before her eyes like some glowing vision from destiny itself.

But alas, Ciri didn’t even remember Ava’s name from the manual. Ouch. Ava must have been crushed—so crushed, in fact, that he vanished for a full eight days after finally meeting her. A dramatic exit, if ever there was one.

Another important thing that we know about Ava is that he really saw the future.

Avallac’h was right—Ciri escaped the Aen Elle and found her way back to Geralt. Not for long, mind you, but still, a win’s a win. Interestingly, it seems Ava knew from the very start that Ciri would bolt. Which, if you think about it, means he probably also knew his grand plan with Auberon was doomed from the get-go. But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself.

After Lara’s death, Ava had plenty of time to prepare for Ciri’s arrival. Decades, really. He could have planned every tiny detail down to the last ceremonial ribbon. The Aen Elle could have been running dress rehearsals weekly: parades, songs, inspirational speeches—you name it. Picture the scene: the entire Aen Elle court, decked out and joyous, gathering to welcome the Elder Blood’s triumphant return. And at the center of it all, Ava emerges—an elf from the legends, flute in hand, practically radiating destiny itself.

Except... reality had other plans. Ava did emerge, yes, but he forgot to introduce himself. And then, in peak Ava fashion, he vanished for eight entire days. Way to make an impression.

(Admiration, mind you ;)

That was a bizarre move on Ava's part. If he’d been planning to dazzle Ciri with his legendary charm and make a great first impression, well... epic fail. Disappearing for eight days? Lame, Ava. Super lame.

So, what was he doing during all that time? Plotting? Pouting? Perfecting his flute skills? Who knows. But don’t worry, I’ll try to dig into that mystery a bit later. For now, let’s keep plowing through the text and unraveling this saga.

Ava isn’t in any rush. Why would he be? He’s the very picture of elven patience. But not everyone shares his laid-back attitude. Enter Eredin, who clearly can’t wait.

Now, let me remind you: after eight whole days in the Aen Elle world, Ciri still has no clue what these elves actually want from her.

They meet Eredin on their way to Tir na lia.

The second impatient elf is waiting back at the palace, but we’ll get to him in just a moment.

Now, onto my favorite part: the infamous flower scene—the very cornerstone of the Ciredin ship. Let’s dive back into it and take a closer look, shall we? Specifically, let’s focus on Ciri’s body language. Because, as we all know, our bodies have a way of betraying our emotions. Fear, excitement, arousal—whatever it is, the signs come fast. Blushing, sweating, turning pale—it’s all there, happening in a split second.

So, as we re-read this passage, pay close attention to the timing of her reactions. It’s all in the details. Now, here’s the scene:

Now, close your eyes and imagine you’re Ciri. Suppose you fancy Eredin. He picks up a flower and hands it to you. Maybe your fingers brush—just for a moment—you feel the warmth of his hand, maybe even his breath. And if you do like him, this is the moment when you’d blush. It’s instinctive. You’d probably lift the flower to your face—not just to smell it but also to hide how flustered you are. Classic move, right?

Then Eredin leaves, and you turn to Avallac’h with the question: “Is it him? Is Eredin supposed to be the father of my child?” And Ava, in his ever-dramatic wisdom, says, “Nope.” If you were into Eredin, you’d probably feel disappointment. Frustration, even. Totally normal human reactions. At least, that’s how I imagine it.

But now, let’s revisit the actual text. When Eredin gives Ciri the flower, there’s no mention of her immediate reaction. None. Zilch. Nada. Instead, her feelings show up after Eredin leaves. Specifically, she feels a surge of excitement—not when she’s holding the flower, not when Eredin is standing right there, but when Ava tells her she’s not going to sleep with Eredin.

So, what’s sparking Ciri’s excitement and fascination? The answer lies a few passages earlier, when Eredin makes a certain comment about Ciri’s eyes.

Ciri’s no fool. By now, she must have pieced together that Avallac’h was very close to Lara. Because honestly, who else besides a parent or a lover would need to gaze that deeply into someone’s eyes?

So, now Ciri knows that Ava wasn’t just some casual acquaintance of Lara’s—he was someone truly significant. And definitely not a brother—because let’s be real, why would he blush then?

When Ava tells her that Eredin isn’t their lucky candidate, what’s Ciri supposed to think? 😉 The dots are connecting themselves.

After Eredin leaves, Ciri finally works up the courage to ask the burning question: who’s meant to be the father of her child? All eyes on Ava now.

Notice how Avallac’h holds back, waiting to hear Ciri’s answer before revealing who’s supposed to be the father of her child. And why is that?

I’ll tell you why: it’s fear. Plain and simple.

Picture the situation: Ava’s about to drop the bomb that the father will be Auberon—their leader, the crème de la crème, the most elite of the elite, the noblest of the noble. This should be his shining moment, a perfect setup for an epic sales pitch. So why the hesitation? Why the silence? It’s almost as if... he can’t bring himself to say it.

The Fox knows exactly who Ciri is destined for—or at least, he thinks he does. Otherwise, why would he flaunt his tail so confidently in front of Geralt? But this all-knowing sage is suddenly terrified. Why? Because he’s been here before. Cast aside in favor of a human, mocked behind his back by the whole of Tir na Lia. Oh, they don’t do it openly—no one dares, or Ava might jinx them—but the laughter lingers in whispers.

And now, after all these years, history threatens to repeat itself. Another dh’oine enters the picture, and this time, she’s destined for him. What a scandal. If a child is born, Ava becomes the father of a half-blood. The mockery will only intensify: first Lara "took the wrong path," and now Avallac’h, an elite Aen Saevherne, follows in her footsteps.

The fragile ego of the Fox can’t handle such a trial. So, he does the only thing he can think of: pass the responsibility to someone "safe." Enter Auberon, an elf of advanced age and familial ties, who’s unlikely to get... overly interested. It’s a classic case of “grandpa’s old, he doesn’t care.”

As for those eight days of absence? Ava was stalling, wrestling with himself over who would ultimately carry the burden. In the end, it was Auberon who got the short straw. Ava had to choose someone to take the heat—and it wasn’t going to be him.

Now, let’s move to the palace scene and the second impatient elf who couldn’t wait to meet Cirilla.

So, Auberon couldn’t wait either. Not because he had any unsavory intentions toward Ciri, of course, but... well, probably out of a mix of family feelings and sheer curiosity.

As for Avallac’h, he didn’t seem to care one bit that Ciri showed up before Auberon looking tired and dirty. Why? Maybe he figured it wouldn’t make a difference. Or perhaps he just thought Ciri was attractive enough to pull it off regardless. Who knows? Ava’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t care less about Auberon’s impatience or Eredin’s schemes to claim the Spiral.

So, what was Ava thinking? Likely this: how to outwit Destiny and save his own precious reputation. That’s my theory, at least—I could be wrong. But knowing Ava, it fits.

And then, of course, we all remember what happened next.

I mean, let’s be real—Ciri probably wouldn’t have thrown herself at a guy she found completely repulsive. What if he’d said yes? Then what? “Oh, sorry, Ava, that was just my emotionally frazzled state talking?” Awkward. But that’s beside the point. Ava, of course, got all grumpy about it, like, “What if I sleep with you and forget about Lara? Boo-hoo, sob-sob.”

But maybe it wasn’t just about Lara. He knew exactly who was meant for whom and who was supposed to do what with whom. And yet, he still lost his cool. She’d offered him exactly what he’d been running away from—just handed it to him, no strings, no overthinking. Bullseye. Right on the sore spot.

It wasn’t just about Lara. It was about someone chickening out. After all these years! Ignoring his own prophetic gift, no less. Knowing full well that his grand plan with Auberon was utter trash.

Crashed and burned, yep. Just like Geralt’s grand plan once upon a time—when he tried to weasel out of his destiny and hand Ciri off to someone else. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well for him. Or for Ava, for that matter. Destiny, as it turns out, has a twisted sense of humor.

[geraltofriviacollection]

Chapter Four

Paring: Geralt x Reader

Summary: Reader is thrown into the Witcher’s world. Will she survive? Eventual smut may come about😉

A/N: This is the fourth part in a series. I as usual have not edited or proofread. Please do not repost, translate or copy my work without permission. Please leave comments! ❤️ @sparks363​ - I didn’t forget you babes xoxo

Chapter One    Chapter Two   Chapter Three

“I’m not talking about it.” I whisper shout at him across the fire. I peek over at Ciri to make sure she’s still asleep.

“Avoiding talking about it won’t make it go away.” He says looking at me with those stupid golden judgmental eyes.

For the past 2 days I have avoided talking about my little power show at Nevillen’s. Partly because I’m freaked the fuck out about it and partly because I’m freaked THE FUCK. The look Geralt has been giving me is not the ‘I want to slam you against the wall in a hot way’ but the ‘I’m going to get this out of you one way or another. You might not like the other.’ Kind of way. So far I have managed to dodge every question about this. I definitely feel myself losing my resolve.

“Really? So far avoiding it has been working.” I reply looking back down at my hands. I hear his frustrated sigh for the 70th time about this.

“Must you be this stubborn about this?” He says with a slight edge in his voice.

“Must you be so fucking pushy about this?” I quietly hissed.

“For her safety, yes. Now are you going to tell me or keep wasting my time?” He growls lowly. I look over to Ciri for a moment and then back to Geralt.

“I..I don’t know what happened. When I heard Ciri cry out… it felt like something snapped. Like a rope pulled too tight. The next thing I knew Vereena was impaled and I was exhausted.”I look back at the flames flickering in the fire.

“Can you control it?” He asks.

“No..I…I don’t know. Maybe?” I shrug.

“Fuck.” He murmurs. Fuck indeed.

The road to Kaer Morhen was a long and cold one. My favorite part was how uneventful it was. No dangers lurking around the corner. Ciri and I grew closer, sharing loud laughs and swapping stories . He liked it, I know it made him happy if only to see Ciri laugh even when we got a bit loud. During the journey Geralt and I stayed clear of each other unless Ciri was awake. No idle conversation unless it was a “Are you hungry? I’m going to get firewood. You should sleep. Type of things. Our relationship mimicked awkward divorced parents forced to live in the same house sharing custody of their kid. My whole glowing energy thing has been rather non existent. Ciri and Geralt seem to think it only happens under extreme stress. Which doesn’t exactly explain why I didn’t kick some as at my kidnapping. Sleeping outside in the cold though not a big fan of that. Eating outside in the cold. Peeing outside in the cold two words fucking bullshit.

When we finally had Kaer Morhen in our sight I sagged in relief even if it looked considerably worse than in the show. The snow still falling around us as Ciri and I dismount from Roach. I look around trying to remember where I can find a door that leads to warmth. How Geralt and Ciri aren’t anxious to get inside puzzles me. Eventually I follow Geralt into a hall considerably big for the amount of people in the room. I look down at ciri and give her a “reassuring” smile. Ciri then looks to Geralt who gives her the only smile I have ever seen from him which is huge.

Geralt walks up to one of the men in the room and they meet in the middle. After an odd welcome they embrace each other with smiles and laughs. Ciri and I look at each other in slight shock at the sight in front of us. I shrug as our attention turns back to the men. I begin walking to them with Ciri right by my side. An older man with white hair that almost matches Geralt stands. I can only assume that’s the famous Vesemir. Ciri walks to stand behind Geralt with me on the other side of Ciri. The ever needed buffer between the two of us. Vesemir nods questioningly at the two of us. Vesemir locks eyes assessing narrowing at Ciri before he looks at me. I raise my eyebrow in a slight challenge before a smirk comes to his lips. Geralt moves to greet all the men in the hall.

Soon we sit and begin eating. My favorite part more than food was being warm even with the gaping hole in the ceiling. I laugh at the stories the men swap becoming drunker with time.The relief only lasted a short time before remembering the next part in this story as Eskel entered the hall. While everyone is making toast.

“Too forgetting the fucking path for one fucking night. Who’s ready?” He shouts as feral goes to greet him.

“Eskel.” They all say warmly. As Geralt hugs him. They share a laugh at Eskel’s expense when suddenly he notices Ciri. Before he can get too close I step in front of him.

“Who the hell are you?” He frowns at me. I let out a small breath when he focuses on me instead.

“Not the one that took six hours to fight a monster.” I say. The room breaks out in concealed laughs at my comment. Eskels face scrunches in dislike. He looks around me to look at Ciri.

“And who the hell is she then?”

With all the poise of royalty she leans back. “I am Princess Cirilla of Centra. Pleasure to meet you.” I look down to hide my smile.

Sometime later I find myself wandering the castle. If it weren’t for the gaping holes, the rats, and the complete lack of indoor plumbing it wouldn’t be so bad. Trying to find a bathtub around here has proven less than fruitful. I keep my search going only to run into Vesemir.

“If you tell me what you are looking for I might be able to help you ,my lady.”

“I’ve been looking for a bathtub. It’s been almost two weeks and I’m smelling pretty ripe.” I laugh a little awkwardly. Vesemir looks at me and chuckles.

“There’s a hot spring in the lower parts of the keep. I will escort you. Where is the girl? I’m sure she would like to bathe as well.” He says, leading me to the hot springs.

“I’m sure she is somewhere she shouldn’t be. Doing something Geralt told her not to do.” I sigh just thinking about it.

“You protect the girl as if she is yours.”

“She certainly feels like it these days. What gave me away?” I laugh.

He chuckles. “You putting yourself between her and Eskel certainly didn’t help with keeping your secret if that was what you were intending.”

“Well I suppose subtleties are best used for politicians rather than Witcher’s.”

“Geralt told me about you,” He said looking at me.

“I’m not surprised by that. If he told you, you know I can’t answer any questions about the future. Trying to talk about it or interfering in critical moments leaves me in pain.” I explain.

“Geralt said that you know him. That you know all about his past and Ciri’s.”

“I know more of the major moments than the small details.” I say. I begin to hear music playing and the faint sound of happy voices.  “I know that Deglan was the one who created the monsters that witchers kill and are killed by.” The shock on his face lasted for a split second, but I still see it. “These things are known where I’m from.” I explained.

“How did you get here? Why are you here?”

“I don’t know. I simply woke up here in the middle of the snow. My best guess as to why I think I’m here to protect Ciri.” I sigh and shrug.

“You know about the night she fled Cintra. You also know what she is.” He states more than asking ,eyes narrowing again. I say nothing. “What are you?” He asks.

“Fairly fucked I’d  say but only time will tell.” He laughs at my words and I can’t help but smile. Better to laugh than cry. We start to pass the great hall as the cheering becomes louder. I turn the corner to see topless women and half drunk men grinding against them. I sigh in annoyance.

“They all become idiots when women are involved.” He says laughing as he watches on.

“It’s nice to know men stay consistent no matter where I go.” I say and Vesemir laughs again. I look to see Geralt come out. I look around for Ciri and see her nowhere to be found. I turn to Vesemir to speak, he interrupts me before I can get the words out.

“Go on, find the girl. I will show you the spring once you have her.” He gestures with his chin. I give him a grateful smile. I walk down the stairs to find where Geralt has left Ciri. When I get there I see one of the women holding his hand in her’s. The smallest part of me is annoyed watching that.

“-softest thing about you was that you paid.”

“She’s not my daughter.”

“Oh well in that case I could take her in. She’d have the boys eating out of her hands.” She says still rubbing his arm. I interrupt just as Geralt takes a step forward threateningly. He wouldn’t kill her but Unwilling to take the chance I step in front of him.

“That’s a big fuck no. I’d say thank you for your interest but I would be lying. I’m not sure I’d like to waste her education on whoring. Tell me, can you read?” I give her a toothy smile. She starts to say something when I hear a slight growl from Geralt before he turns with an irritated look walking away.

“I didn’t need your help.” He says as I turn around.

“I know you didn’t but she did. Where is your not daughter, daughter at?” I ask him. He looks down at me, narrowing those golden eyes before grunting. “I feel like we have been over this before. Grunting is not an answer. Where is she?” I snap.

“In the armory. I told her to stay there.” I sigh. Pinching the bridge of my nose because if we have learned anything Ciri rarely listens. I turn and begin but before I even take a step I see Eskel. I pause. My chest falls into my stomach and I feel myself growing warm like with the bruxa. Geralt pushes me in the door frame behind us.

“You were starting to glow. What is it?” He asked. I meet his eyes. I start shaking my head. “Something is going to happen isn’t it? He questions me again. I look down at my feet.

“I can’t tell you. You know that.” I feel a wave of sorrow come over me for Geralt. Knowing the next part won’t be easy for him killing his brother. On instinct I grab his hand giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry Geralt.” I whisper.

I let go of his hand and turned away, beginning to walk through the crowd to make my way to the lab. I see Eskel with a blonde haired woman. I stop for just a second and he meets my eyes for a moment before turning around and places his lips to hers peeking at me. Geralt passes me and pulls him away from the women. I turn and rush to Ciri. I run around forgetting where the armory is. Eventually I find the armory and Ciri in it with Vesemir and feel relieved.

“I’m not sure if I should be more surprised that you are where Geralt said you would be or if you actually listened to him and stayed.” I laugh. She turns and smiles at me with a blush of embarrassment and Vesemir laughs. “Vesemir agreed to take us to the hot springs. Only if you are finished here?” I grin. Ciri nods her head when the room shakes a bit and dust falls from the ceiling.  Vesemir and I lock eyes and he leaves without a word.

“What is it?” Cir ask looking at me. I grab her wrist and start pulling her behind me to our rooms. She pulls her arm from my hand and I stop. “What’s happening?” She demands.

“Geralt is in trouble and I need to make sure you’re safe.” I grab her and turn to walk again. She pulls away from me again. “Ciri we don’t have time for this!” I shout.

“If Geralt is in trouble then we need to help him.” She says Bolting to find Geralt. I run after her but she’s fast.

“Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck.” I chant running after her. This is not what happens in the fucking show!! 

I finally catch up with Ciri at the lab she enters and Geralt turns his head to Ciri telling her to run, getting him impaled by Eskel. He grunts in pain as Eskel pulls the branch back out of Geralt’s side. I run to grab Ciri and just as I am about to reach for her a branch wraps around her waist and pulls her away from me. The burning starts quickly. I scream and go after her. I manage to doge the branches. Vesemir is trying to wiggle out from the branches surrounding him. Ciri screams, reaching for Geralt. I see Eskel start squeezing Ciri and Vesemir tighter.

What happens next feels like someone has pulled me out of the front seat in my mind. I watch myself  shatter the branches that have slid up wrapping around me. Every branch that comes my way sets fire as soon as it touches me. I vaguely hear the screams from the leche as I walk forward. It lets go of the girl  throwing her across the room. I throw out a hand that catches her in a shield and I lower her to the ground. The black eyed man tries to chase after her when another vine wraps around him, tossing him into a wall.

My head snaps back to the monster in front of me. The vines that once held the girl all come shooting from me and they quickly burn away.  When I finally reach the Leshy at the center of the room, I stop and look at him. His head cocks to the side as his vines loosen around the old man. I see his mouth move but I don’t hear the words as I shove my hand through his chest and the center of him begins to smoke. The sounds around me still don’t register. I pull my hand from his chest and watch as he falls to the ground.

The older man approaches me. I look at him. From the corner of my eye I see a man walking to the girl. I throw out a hand that blasts him back. I move to the girl and see her lying there eyes closed. I lean down to touch her when I hear someone calling a name. My head whips around. The black eyed man is coming near me. I feel myself burn hotter as he nears and I sneer as he steps closer to us. He holds up both of his hands as he takes another step.

Some part of me must finally recognize him when I feel the energy burning against me start to dissipate. I feel my breathing calm and I slowly feel like I am being pulled back into my body. I stand there looking at Geralt confused. As to why he’s standing like that. I open my mouth to ask him when I lose the ability to stand. Geralt catches me before I hit the floor. My eyes feel incredibly heavy and I sink into oblivion.