#why did i call her Ciri

[andordean]

Best of luck, OP. Tips from my greyhound/lab cross:

- a frozen lickimat: fold the silicon mat in half; the food will get unstuck and will come out in big, comfortable chunks.

- a sniffing mat: lift and shake empty, proceed to eat the treats off the floor.

- box filled with treats to sniff out: pick up the box and turn it upside down, proceed as with a sniffing mat. Then shred the box. Alternatively, start with shredding the box.

- treats in a plastic bottle with a hole in it, to be rolled around to get the treats out: use the cut out hole to shred the bottle.

- the stuffed kong (or any toy with stuffed treats, like K9 connectibles) is only stuffed for so long if you throw it at the floor with force, drop from the sofa, or better still, drop down the stairs. For bonus points, if filled with cooked rice and shredded chicken, eat the chicken, leave the rice.

- Any Home-made Enrichment Toy: it takes 10 min to prep, 60 seconds to shred.

- anything frozen is boring and not worth the effort.

- Violence is always the answer. If not working, apply more violence.

hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD

Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.

Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.

I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.

Some more thoughts:

If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.

If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.

You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.

You can also freeze lick mats

If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.

If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.

Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.

Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.

Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.

Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.

A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.

If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.

[pinkhysteria]

when cirie's answers to most questions in her post-eviction/jury interviews averaged 1-15 words max, but she gave a whole sermon on how grimy and disgusting felicia was in the house, i knew then that they probably wouldn't be besties post-season. 💀 so felicia saying cirie hasn't spoken to her isn't surprising to me.

[trans-green]

people seriously watched the Witcher? and think it's good? WHEEZE

[thedemonofcat]

In which Jaskier is detained in Cintra after visiting the newborn princess. Not because he did anything bad. It’s just that baby Ciri only sleeps soundly if Jaskier puts her yo bed with a lullaby.

Calanthe is not above keeping a bard prisoner for her grandchild.

"You're from Bremervoord, aren't you?" Calanthe asked Jaskier one evening.

"Yes, that's right. I'm the Viscount of Lettenhove," Jaskier replied as politely as possible. Now that he had been moved from the dungeons to a proper bedroom, he wasn’t about to risk his good fortune.

"And yet you travel with a witcher," Calanthe remarked, her sharp gaze dissecting Jaskier as though trying to unravel a puzzle.

"Nobility, ruling a land—it's never been for me," Jaskier confessed. He rarely spoke about this part of his life. "Besides, you can't become a world-renowned bard without seeing the world first."

"And your parents? They're fine with this... lifestyle?" Calanthe pressed.

"My father? Not in a million years," Jaskier said, almost amused. But he knew better than to laugh in front of the queen.

"And your mother?" Calanthe continued, her eyes lingering on him in a way that made Jaskier uneasy, as if she were trying to place his face.

"My mother died when I was a child," Jaskier replied softly. Even after all these years, the loss still ached. Then, more cautiously, he added, "If I may ask, Your Majesty—why the sudden interest?"

Calanthe paused for a moment before rising to leave the room Jaskier now called home. As she locked the door behind her, she glanced back. "You look familiar, Julian," she said, her words hanging in the air as she departed.

[jay-arts-t]

Posting a a little today but really like the whole bit the boys have over calling Vesemir old. They all just collectively agree “old man old man”

It’s even funnier when notw makes vesemir only 70, or really 60 something years older than them since they’re around 4-8 age group. And he only looks like he’s in his 20s-early thirties. I’m sure Lambert started it. One day he just asks “why are you so old?” And Vesemir is left shocked. He’s not that old!!! But then when they get back to Kaer Morhen and the boys are a bit older Geralt finally gets to ask all his questions about Kaer Morhen he couldn’t ask before.

“How old is Kaer Morhen?”

“I don’t know Geralt. Old.”

“Are you older than Kaer Morhen or as old?”

Vesemir throws his boots at him. Then that’s when the whole “*insert item* is almost as old as Vesemir!”

HE HATES IT.

When Ciri finally joins them, Lambert immediately teaches her the bit. She is RUTHLESS with her insults. Vesemir is giving her a history lesson in the courtyard since it’s nice out. The boys are fixing one of the walls in the background. He’s telling her about a war that happened around 600 years ago.

“Do you remember what it was like in that time? Since you were there?” Vesemir wants to crawl into a hole and die in it. The boys are basically toppled over in laughter. Lambert starts choking from laughing too hard. Ciri seems extremely pleased with herself.

It starts evolving further into “oh you wanna know about the conjunction of spheres? Oh I dunno, ask Vesemir he was there since before the conjunction.” And “what was it like when dinosaurs were alive, Vesemir?”

AND IT SOMEHOW SPREADS. He’s in a growing town in southern Redania with Geralt and they run into Jaskier. Now he’s never had the fortune of meeting him, but he’s heard plenty. He’s about to thank the poet for looking after Geralt until Jaskier goes “so I’ve heard you’re quite old! Tell me Master Vesemir, what was it like when kingdoms started to form? How did the royal families come to be in power?”

Vesemir is SEETHING. Geralt just smiles like the little shit he is.

[endiness]

s1 interview of lauren talking about the show having three leads from the beginning and the books being about ciri

INTERVIEWER: Knowing that the show is called The Witcher, both in terms of how you decided to structure an episode, the season, and negotiations, perhaps, with executives, how did that choice [for three leads] come about? And what was that like saying, "Okay, Henry Cavill — just not showing up for awhile." LAUREN: So... what's great about that is that I— For me, characters are only as interesting as the characters they come in contact with. So, it's why I always find, y'know, unless— If you have a show that's a single lead, basically, that supporting cast, if they don't show up very much, then god, that single lead must be doing the most exciting, interesting thing every moment they're on screen or else who cares? Journeys are about conflict. Journeys are about orbiting into someone else's atmosphere and seeing how that changes you and what happens. So even in the initial pitches, I would be talking about Geralt and basically saying, like, I want to build up who Geralt is. And I want to build up who Ciri is. And I want to build up who Yennefer is. So when they come crashing into each other, we not only know who they were before, but we start to see how they change each other. And that was, to me, the best reasoning for having them be three leads as opposed to one lead and two other sort of minor characters. That's sort of the, y'know, esoteric response. LAUREN: The real one is that, having read all of the books, the series The Witcher actually very much becomes about Ciri. Ciri is kind of... y'know, in the writers room we call her the football. Y'know, she's the thing that people are sort of trying to get, pass around, throw to their friends. It really becomes all about her. So I was also keenly aware of not doing a bait and switch for the audience which is for the first, y'know, two season it's all about Geralt being the monster hunter. It's all about him. And then, wait, who is this girl and why is she so important all of the sudden. I thought, just even as a viewer, I like to sort of understand what I'm about to see. And by allowing Ciri to be a big part of the season from the beginning and doing the same with Yennefer, I think you sort of set up the expectations for your entire audience that, hey, all three of these characters are gonna be important.

[bumblesimagines]

“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

- Ciri

“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

pronouns for y/n: he/him/his, male reader

Smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress, Ciri swept her gaze over those present. The Belleteyn festival. A chance for Ciri to feel normal again, to forget her worries for a night. All she felt was giddiness as she took in the lively attendees and listening to the music playing. She kept her mask close to her face and hoped nobody would recognize her.

Geralt and Yennefer's eyes bore into her back as she strode through the festivities, gaze bouncing around in order to soak everything in before they'd eventually be forced to go back out on the road in search of a new place to call home. She smiled and laughed at the performances, finally being able to enjoy herself. She turned to glance back at Geralt and Yennefer, shoulder bumping against someone and she saw it, a new vision.

She heard laughter, a mix of her voice and a stranger's. She saw someone's bare back turned toward her in a cozy bed and watched herself reach out to touch them. The wail of a baby pierced through next and she found herself holding a bundle that had her ashen-gray hair.

When she blinked, she saw the festival again and a voice rumbled near her ear. "Apologies." It sent a shiver down her spine and she whirled around, the mask nearly slipping from her fingers. The man tilted his head at her, (E/C) eyes peeking through the maroon mask on his face.

"You-" She caught herself and cleared her throat, finding that her hands had begun trembling. Had she just witnessed her future? Was she to become... a mother? A wife?

"Are you alright?" He asked, lips curling into a teasing smile. "Did I knock into you that hard?"

"No, I... Sorry, I..." At a loss for words for the first time in a while, Ciri certainly didn't miss the feeling. A hand gently touched her back and she glanced over her shoulder, finding Geralt and Yennefer at her side.

"Is something wrong, Ciri?" Geralt questioned, his eyes fixated on the man. Most would typically turn into blabbering messes when Geralt glared at them, but the stranger simply stared back at him until his attention turned to Yennefer and he grinned.

"It's been a while, Yen." He purred and scooped her hand into his, lips brushing against her knuckles. Ciri felt a flash of jealousy and blinked, startled by her own reaction.

"(Y/N)…" Yennefer breathed. "Vilgefortz said you were dead. He said you had been-"

"Killed in battle? And you believed that, Yen? You wound me." (Y/N) released her hand and shook his head, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment.

"You know each other?" Geralt cocked a brow, a frown settling on his features.

"(Y/N) is a mage who worked alongside Vilgefortz sometimes." Yennefer explained to the bulky witcher, violet eyes never leaving (Y/N), almost as if afraid if she blinked he'd disappear. "The Brotherhood had attempted many times to recruit him for his abilities. Why would he lead us to believe you were dead?"

"He owed me a favor." (Y/N) replied coolly and shrugged his shoulders, the disinterest on his face clear as day. Yennefer and Geralt exchanged a glance.

"You're a mage?"

"Indeed I am, Princess." Ciri's heart skipped a beat and she nearly huffed. He was a stranger. A potential threat... and possibly her future husband.

"What are you doing here then, mage?" (Y/N) looked back at Geralt, locking eyes with him as Geralt placed a protective hand over Ciri's shoulder.

"I was passing through and heard about the festival so I decided to attend."

"Where are you headed?"

"Anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere. I have no real destination in mind since it seems I'll bump into an old friend in most places. Being found by the Brotherhood is the last thing I desire." (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the witcher to gaze around him. Ciri swallowed.

"You should come with us."

"Ciri-"

"We have the same dilemma. We can help each other. You stay with us somewhere where you won't be found and in return, you can teach me magic." Ciri proposed with a sudden boost of confidence. (Y/N)'s lips formed a grin and he peered back at her, eyes lighting up with interest.

"I'm sure our little mage wouldn't enjoy-"

"Oh, I'm extremely okay with this."

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Here is my thumb at the polling station!! I was gonna take a picture directly outside but someone else was taking a selfie and I felt weird waiting for her to be done. Anyway what do I get in exchange??

HELLO THUMB. I like that you've got a different coloured sign, bravo.

I'm using this opportunity to share some of what might actually be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. This is the start of chapter two, but... yeah. It's pretty obvious what's going on here. The only context I'll give is that this is post-everything, post-game, "settled down and married and owning an inn in Toussaint".

(I'd also like to thank @spielzeugkaiser for encouraging this one)

Also adding a cut because it's long and I couldn't decide where to cut it off 😅

---

“Geralt, my darling love, my handsome witcher, my saviour of men?”

“What do you want?”

“I— what makes you think I want something?”

“You only use that tone when you want something and it’s—” Geralt shuffled around in bed and peered out of the window. It was still dark out. “Before dawn,” he finished. Paused. “What are you doing up, anyway?”

Jaskier stared down at him, dressed only in a nightshirt which Geralt was fairly certain was his.

“I heard a noise,” he said.

Geralt resisted the urge to pull him back into bed. “You heard a noise.” He repeated, tonelessly.

“Yes. It woke me up,” Jaskier continued. “And now there’s something in the stables.”

With a grumble, Geralt finally sat up. “What is it?”

Jaskier gave him an exaggerated sigh. “Well I don’t know, do I?”

“Why don’t you go check, then?”

“What if it’s a bandit? Or some sort of horrid beasty? You truly can’t expect me to deal with it, can you?”

For a moment, Geralt considered suggesting just that. But Jaskier had a point. He was  famously unhelpful in these sorts of situations. With a sigh, he swung himself out of bed and hastily dressed in the first clothes that he could get his hands on. After a second of consideration, he grabbed his sword as well.

“Come on, then.”

There was a disturbance in the stables, it turned out. Geralt could hear the horses snuffling and pacing - clearly something had spooked them. As they approached the sturdy stone building, Geralt could see that the door was swinging open.

“Stay here,” he muttered towards Jaskier over his shoulder.

“Right-o.”

The stables smelled like horse and sweat. But beneath that, a tang that Geralt didn’t recognise. And beneath that, one he did: blood.

It was too early and he was too tired to fuck about. He gripped his sword, set his shoulders, and called into the dark.

“I know you’re in here,” he said. “Show yourself.” 

At first, nothing happened. And then there was a rustle from the far corner, and a voice.

“Please, m’Lord—” 

A head appeared over the hay. A man. He was all cheekbones and angles, with a thatch of wild untamed hair. Geralt’s first thought was how young he looked. Probably no older than twenty-three or four. He looked terrified, too, and his eyes swept over Geralt in a dance Geralt had grown familiar with. The expression of fear melded from one of being caught, to one of being caught by a witcher.

As the man moved, the smell of blood grew stronger. There was a little cut on his face, just below his eye - which was marred with a huge purple bruise - but that alone wasn’t enough for such a strong scent. Geralt wondered where else he was bleeding from.

He wasn’t a bandit. He didn’t seem particularly dangerous.

“Please,” the man repeated, struggling to his feet. “Please, I’ll just— I’ll go, I swear, I just needed—”

He took a step forwards and immediately toppled, grabbing onto the wall to steady himself. He was clearly more hurt than he was letting on, and he looked exhausted. Geralt wondered how long he’d been running for. What he was running from. When he met the man’s eyes, they were wide and swimming with unspilled tears, and again, all Geralt could think was how young he looked.

Younger than Ciri, even.

Shit. Geralt was going soft. 

“Jask,” he called over his shoulder. “Come here. I need a hand…”

Jaskier’s face appeared in the doorway.

“I’m not sure what you think I can—” his eyes landed on the man. “Oh. Oh, Gods, Geralt, what’s going on?”

Geralt shrugged. “I don’t know. Help me get him inside…”

Jasker, thank Melitele, was better at this than Geralt. He quickly rushed over to the man, wrapped an arm under his shoulders to support him, and started talking to him in a low, calming tone.

“Are you alright? Look, just— you’re going to be okay, yeah? Just lean on me like that—”

Together, they manoeuvred the young man out of the stable and across the yard, his legs threatening to give out with every step.

“Thank you—” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. “Thank you, I don’t— I just— Thank you—”

“That’s quite alright,” Jaskier said, giving him a little squeeze. “What’s your name?”

The man sniffed, and winced.

“Penn.”

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

A kiss like they're trying to convince the other to love them and/or a kiss in front of someone they hold captive

Yennskier

Here's a little bit of both, set in an alternate timeline where they managed to capture Rience during season 3, episode 1:

“We should probably talk about what happened in Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier says in what he hopes is a casual way.

Yennefer looks at him incredulously. “Does now seem like a good time for this conversation, bardling?”

“Why not?” Jaskier shrugs. “He’s not going anywhere.”

They both turn to look at Rience, who scowls back at them from the chair they’ve bound him to in dimeritium chains. Jaskier can’t help but feel a thrill of vindication at seeing the fire fucker as trussed up and helpless as he was a year ago in Oxenfurt, even as he keeps catching himself rubbing his fingers together anxiously. It helps that Yennefer is standing next to him and Geralt and Ciri are just in the other room with Yarpen.

Rience sneers at Yennefer. “What’s one of Tissaia’s girls doing, working for a witcher?”

Jaskier snorts. Even if they hadn’t already figured out that Rience isn’t the mastermind trying to capture Ciri, that would have given it away. No one with any sense would think Yennefer a lackey. Leaning closer to Yennefer, he says, “We really should talk about this.”

“About what?” She sighs, clearly realizing she’s not going to be able to evade this. “A lot happened in Kaer Morhen. Do you want to talk about Voleth Meir? All the money you still owe Ciri after all the times she trounced you at cards?”

“She did not…” Jaskier draws himself up, realizes he’s being distracted, and lets out a huff. “About our last night there.”

Yennefer doesn’t visibly react, but there’s a pointedness in the way she turns back to Rience. “Who’s your puppetmaster?”

Rience bares his teeth at her. “I’m no one’s—”

“I don’t believe for a second that you’re the one calling the shots. You’re a one trick pony, aren’t you? You can harness fire, but not much else. That portal wasn’t yours.”

“I just can’t help but notice that you’re acting a bit… off,” Jaskier says carefully, because he and Yennefer may be friends now, but he still doesn’t put it past her to curse his bollocks off.

Yennefer closes her eyes. “Did you learn this interrogation technique from Phillipa?”

“Gods, no.” Jaskier barks out a laugh. “Phillipa wouldn’t let me anywhere near an interrogation.”

“I suppose that’s why Redania is still standing.”

“See? That was almost mean. That was the first mean thing you’ve said to me in three days, and it wasn’t even in your top ten best jabs! Something is clearly amiss. Are you a doppler? Are you dying? Did you hit your head in the skirmish yesterday? Melitele, are you actually plotting my demise? Is this your way of trying to lure me into a false sense of security? Because it isn’t working, Yennefer.”

“If you want him dead, you can just let me out of these chains.” Rience snaps his fingers menacingly and Jaskier can’t help but step back, even though no flames appear.

Yennefer throws out a hand and Rience’s chair flies backward, slamming against the wall and capsizing. He yelps as his head bounces off the ground and lies there, groaning.

“Yenn?” Geralt calls from the next room. “Jaskier?”

“We’re fine!” Lowering her voice, Yennefer hisses, “This isn’t the time.”

“Well, it has to be the time, because you keep avoiding me. Is this about what happened between us? Because you didn’t seem to have any regrets the next morning? In fact, you asked…” He trails off, pieces starting to slide into place.

“I asked you to come with me, Geralt, and Ciri,” she says through gritted teeth. “And you said no. Years of you popping up at the most inconvenient times, bardling, and the one time I want you to stay, you left.”

“But…” Jaskier opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words. When he recovers his wits, all he can squeak is, “I told you I was needed at Oxenfurt.”

“Bullshit. You told me yourself that the Sandpiper organization would run just fine without you. The only thing you did going back to Oxenfurt was put yourself in Phillipa and Dijkstra’s sights.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t want to come with you just to watch you and Geralt play house while I was just there so you could keep me out of trouble.”

It’s her turn to look taken aback. “What?”

“You said so yourself, you wanted me to come with you so I wouldn’t get myself killed in Oxenfurt. You, Geralt, and Ciri are a family, bound by destiny. I’m not—” He’s getting too close to all the things he doesn’t want to say to her, so he looks away. “I’m happy to play the fun Uncle Jaskier whenever you need me to. But the thing about fun uncles is they show up, let you win at cards a few times, and then they leave before the joke gets old.”

Yennefer doesn’t look exasperated anymore; she just looks sad. That’s somehow worse. “It took Geralt months before he would talk to me about anything but the weather, Ciri’s training, or telling me to duck because someone was trying to stab me. I have never once slept under the same roof as him and Ciri, even when we barely had the coin to afford one lodging, never mind two. It took until the winter before he let me inside to break bread with them. The shadow of what I did hung over us every day. We weren’t playing house, we were on the run, and you should have fucking been there.”

“Yenn—”

She talks over him. “You were the only person who could look at me when we were at Kaer Morhen. I asked you to come with us because I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?” he whispers.

Her jaw clenches stubbornly, but she doesn’t answer.

Carefully, he reaches out to take her by the wrist, tugging her closer. “Watching the three of you leave Kaer Morhen was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. If I had known you really wanted me there, I would have followed you in a heartbeat.”

Her lips twitch into a half-smile. “Did you really think I was asking you to come just to be nice?”

“Foolish, I know.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I’ll stay this time.”

“What about the Sandpiper?”

“Vespula does most of the Sandpipering these days. I’m being watched too closely by the RSS.” Jaskier brings her hand to his lips. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Yennefer looks like she wants to deny it, because gods forbid she or Geralt admit to being people with feelings, but she nods. “I’m sorry if I’ve been too kind to you. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank the gods. It made my skin crawl.” He leans down to rest their foreheads together. “Let me stay, Yenn.”

She doesn’t answer, but lifts her face so that he can close the gap between them and kiss her. It’s a tentative thing, not like the desperate, hungry kisses they exchanged on their last night in Kaer Morhen, as weeks of longing—well, probably years of longing, if Jaskier is being honest with himself—bubbled to the surface. There will be time for those later, once they’ve figured out who Rience is working for and ensured that Ciri is safe.

Across the room, there’s a noise of disgust. “If you’re going to make me watch this, I’d rather you just gouge my—”

Yennefer throws her hand out, not pulling her lips away from Jaskier’s. There’s a thud, a yelp, then silence.

“Don’t kill him yet,” Jaskier says, breaking the kiss to press his lips against her throat. “We haven’t gotten any answers out of him.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Geralt’s, the easily distractible fucker. He’s off chattering away with Yarpen while we do all the hard work.”

Yennefer rolls her eyes and mutters something that’s undoubtedly insulting under her breath, but she kisses Jaskier again, so that’s alright.

***

Kiss prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome @ladykardasi (sorry, it wouldn't let me tag your Witcher blog)

[multifandomfix]

Beyond The Call Of Duty — Calanthe

Summary: You’re Ciri’s handmaiden, and a close confidant to the young princess, so when she finds out about your feelings for her grandmother, Queen Calanthe, you fear her seeing it as a betrayal to your duty.

Word Count: 977

Warnings: Some angst, tiny bit steamy at the end

You weren’t but 17 when you started caring for the newborn princess. Over the years you went from nanny to handmaiden, as the princess began to grow from a babe into a young woman. But most importantly, you became a friend and confidante for the girl who would one day be a queen.

You’d had your share of hardships that you had helped Ciri to survive and endure, and your presence in her life had helped shape the woman she was becoming. When her parents died, she only had you and her grandmother, Queen Calanthe, to rely on.

You’d always adored Calanthe, she was every bit a queen, a warrior and a friend. Yet respect and admiration had blurred over the years into something much deeper for you. You loved her.

Out of your sense of duty to Ciri, as well as to Calanthe herself, you never breathed the words aloud. There were times when you were absolutely fine with that decision, and other times where your heart ached at the mere sight of Calanthe. Even in those moments, you said nothing.

Being as busy as she was, Ciri hardly ever saw her grandmother and you at the same time. It was usually one or the other. You got her ready for dinners and for dances, and helped to make her more comfortable when they were over. And her grandmother was there for the middle of all of it.

The times she did see the two of you together, she started to notice a pattern. You had always been humble and kind in Calanthe’s presence, but there were times when you looked at her and your eyes held nothing but sadness. It took Ciri several years to understand the meaning of that sadness, but once she did, things changed.

One evening, as you brushed the princess’s long white hair, she asked you a question. You’d paused mid-stroke when the words had come out of her mouth.

“How long have you loved her?”

You tried to resume your brushing as casually as you could manage given how much her question had shaken you. “I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, as quickly as you were able to recover your voice.

“You know precisely what I mean,” Ciri insisted, trying to catch your eye in the mirror. You refused to meet her gaze.

It was then that Ciri spun around in her chair, her hair slipping from your hands as she looked to you with a pleading expression. “Answer me, please. I have a right to know.”

You supposed that was true enough. Yet still, you felt as if saying it would be a betrayal of Ciri’s trust. You were meant to be her handmaid and nothing more. Even if Ciri did consider you a friend, that would all be over when you finally told her of the secret you’d been keeping for so many, many years.

“I don’t know exactly how long it’s been,” you finally answered. It was the truth. The change from admiration to love had not been something that simply occurred one night. It had taken months, maybe years to realize that your feelings had changed at all.

“But you love her still?” You felt a pull of longing in your chest, all but answering the princess’s question.

“I do.”

“How good to know.” The voice came from the doorway, where you and Ciri both looked to see Calanthe standing there.

“I—” you swallowed, feeling a lump rising in your throat as you tried to explain. “I never meant anything improper.”

“I know. You’ve been a faithful servant for many years. You could have thrown that all away to throw yourself at me, lord knows others have done so. But you chose your duty. Why?”

What was it with this family and the hard questions, you wondered as you tried to formulate an answer. “It’s always come first,” you settled on. “It was more important to me to be by Ciri’s side and support your family than it was to take a foolish chance on my own selfish desires.”

“I don’t know if I’d say they were foolish,” Calanthe responded. For a moment, you weren’t sure what she meant by that. When your face changed from confusion to realization, Calanthe spoke to her granddaughter. “Cirilla, the room please, just for a moment.”

“Of course.” Ciri dismissed herself and shut the door behind her, granting you and Calanthe some privacy.

“I do admire your dedication, but happiness is not selfish. I believe you have earned your share of it, if you’re willing to take it.”

Even in the candlelight, you could see the glint of challenge in Calanthe’s eye. Was she really presenting you with such an opportunity? To be happy? To be hers? You didn’t wish to presume in case you were wrong but…her offer may not last forever.

Already standing so close, it was not difficult for you to bridge the gap between your bodies. It was as if your body had willed itself towards her. It was without thinking that you kissed her. It was desperate, perhaps more so than you would have liked for your first, but it was what you needed if it was to be your last with her.

She kissed you back, matching your energy and biting your bottom lip. When you finally pulled away, you were left with heaving breaths as you waited for your heart to return to its normal rhythm.

“I hope you know that you need not deny yourself any longer. You have always been a part of this family and I could ask for no one more loyal to have at my side. You may continue on as Ciri’s handmaid at your own discretion. Regardless what you decide, I hope you will remain in our lives in whatever capacity you deem fit.”

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Calanthe: @riveranddoctorsong123, @randomfandomimagine, @shitheadsthings, @christies-fleur, @jona-lea, @rubyqueen819, @roxi-reid, @helenatyler4, @hc-geralt-23, @floresferae, @pink-sunrise-56, @anarrowtotheknee, @tissaiasdarkone, @thekirbishow

[fangirleaconmigo]

Yennskier to Geraskefer concept (Yennefer x Jaskier with some + Geralt at the end)

Ok so what if the very first time Yen and Jaskier ever defend each other, it is a complete shock to both of them and happens (of all places) in front of his parents?

(TW: Yen is in disguise so some of the flirting could be read as dubcon but no bards were hurt in the making of this fic, I promise)

So when they first meet, Yen and Jaskier snipe at each other relentlessly, right?

Scheming, devious, calamitous witch.

Useless cock for brains.

Geralt has taken to tuning them out completely.

By complete random bad luck, Yen learns one night in tavern gossip that Jaskier isn’t his real name. She becomes suspicious of his intentions. She brings her concerns to Geralt.

“They said that his true name is Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz. Is that true?” she asks Geralt.

“His name is Jaskier,” Geralt answers, sounding exhausted.

She pushes. “I know that family. They are well connected, prominent, and bigoted. Your bard could very possibly be asked to turn Ciri in to curry their favor.”

"This is insane, Yen." Geralt drops his head and looks miserably into his tankard. “You two need to start getting along, or I’m going to age at least a century before winter.”

"That's not what this is about!"

She gives up on him. He will never think clearly in these matters. She suspects he has romantic feelings for the bard, which she wouldn't mind, she isn't much for monogamy herself, but oh god, the bard??? That smarmy, whorish little bastard? Unthinkable.

She decides to pay Jaskier’s parents a visit just to reassure herself that they aren’t interested in her daughter.

She disguises herself with a glamour and gets herself on the guest list of one of their fancy parties. She is playing the part of a voluptuous blonde wife of an absent Duke.

Jaskier is supposed to be back at Oxenfurt. That’s what he told Geralt, anyway. But she walks in the door and there he is, holding court at the party in his well fitted satin, with his glinting charming smile, and his flushed cheeks and…and…well…other things that Yen would never admit to noticing.

But what was he doing there?

Why did he lie about being at Oxenfurt? Could he already be colluding with his parents?

At the thought, she expects to feel rage. But an entirely different feeling wells up in her.

Disappointment. Hurt.

She shakes it off. Stupid. She's used too much magic for her glamour. It's making her weak. She takes a seat directly across from him at dinner.

He introduces himself to her and kisses her hand. Julian Alfred Pankratz.

His lips brush the top of her hand and in response she acts like one of his tarts. Only because she has to get him to trust her, obviously. Yen smiles and flutters her eyes at him. His smile is charming. So is his admiration of her form. When his gaze drops ever so briefly to her cleavage she feels something else unexpected.

Warmth.

She shakes that off too.

His parents sit on either side of him. Yen doesn’t waste much time. By the time the second course is served she brings up Ciri and the war.

She doesn’t expect Jaskier’s mom to immediately bring up the horrid witch who is hiding the child. The slut who doesn’t know her place. The evil women who schemes and plots and who gets what she wants by manipulating men with her whoredom.

Yen is used to being called these things by conservative wives. But she finds her eyes flick to Jaskier, and her heart leaps to her throat. It makes her so, so angry that she cares what he will say.

He has always seemed like an enemy? But here? Behind actual enemy lines? He feels like a friend.

Fuck.

But Jaskier averts his eyes. He stares at his plate. He isn’t going to join in, but he isn’t going to defend her either. Obviously.

She DOESNT care godsdamnit. She’s just caught up in the moment. She DOES NOT CARE.

So it is entirely incidental that she experiences immense, sweet relief when he smiles softly to himself before he replies.

“Oh mother,” he says genially, “but I know you. It is simple envy that moves you to such crude accusations.”

His mother splutters. “Do you think I covet her false beauty—“

“Not her beauty.” Jaskier says, still calm. Still affable. “She is beautiful of course, but nothing like that. It’s just that you and father are so small minded and so constantly desperate for the approval of other, equally small minded people, that when you see someone who has a soul and who lives in a free spirited manner, that you ache with envy and impotent rage. And that is why you use such uncharacteristically crude and low language to describe her. That is why you yearn to oppress her and control her. That is why you want to put her in her place.”

Jaskier smiles genially and takes another bite of his lobster.

His parents turn so pink with rage that they look purple.

Yen hasn't felt such satisfaction in so very long. She also isn't used to people taking up for her. Not in places like this.

His father is the first to regain his composure. He smiles and looks around the table at the nervous nobles who are trying their best to ignore the awkwardness.

He smiles around the table. “You have to excuse my son. Instead of accepting the position at Oxenfurt he roams the earth thinking with nothing but his base impulses. He knows nothing of the real world. He is young, idealistic, and completely useless.”

There are nervous chuckles around the table when Yennefer speaks up.

“Actually,” she says in between sips of champagne, “I have heard of your son. Jaskier is that right?”

Jaskier looks at her, surprised and deeply pleased.

His parents smile tight lipped.

“Ridiculous name,” his mother says.

“Well,” says Yen, “you’re probably right. The vaunted thinkers and academics who laud his poetry coast to coast are probably incorrect. The soldiers who offer their undying gratitude that he has documented their deeds are wrong. The traumatized war orphans who cry and say that he has saved their lives with his art are surely absurd. It is you who are correct, I’m sure. Of all the ways you can spend your life, comforting and inspiring people does sound like an utter waste of time.”

She primly sips her drink and the grateful, genuine smile that spreads on Jaskier’s face like the sunrise rockets straight to her soul.

The rest of the dinner is tense, but Yennefer is having a wonderful time. Conversing with a Jaskier like this---he is adoring and attentive--it is addictive. She never knew it could feel like this with him.

And after dinner, when he finds her outside the privy and steps incredibly close to her, his hand sliding around her waist, she is shocked into silence by her desire. She doesn't find her voice until he has kissed her ever so softly and tenderly that she almost melts onto his parents stone floors.

"J-j-askier," she manages to mumble.

"Yes, love. Marina, is it?" he murmurs into her ear, his nimble fingers trailing from her neck down, down down. "Beautiful name. Beautiful woman."

She steps back and lets his arms fall heavily to the side.

"I must tell you something. And you will regret what you just did."

It could have sounded like a threat. She meant it to sound like a threat. But it just sounds sad. The glamour falls from her and his face transforms into shock.

She swallows the lump in her throat as he steps back so hard, he hits the wall and covers his mouth with his hands.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demands. He looks white as a sheet. Terrified.

"I just did!"

"Earlier!"

"Because!" Yen squeaks. (She never squeaks) "I was...flummoxed. I--oh a pox on it, Jaskier, I liked it. Is that what you want to hear? You asshole? You bastard?"

His hand falls slowly from his face. Then a soft, tiny, smug little smile begins to form.

"Ha. I knew it."

He did not know it.

She smacks him. He laughs.

Then he remembers something and falls back against the wall againt groaning. "Oh, Geralt. Geralt. I'm a terrible friend. I will have to run off, to never return--"

She smacks him again. "Ow, what?"

"Calm down. Let's go see him together. I have a feeling he is going to like what we have to say."

The next time they kiss, it is in front of a roaring fire in her home in Vengerberg, with Geralt caressing them both, and watching with fondness.

"If I had known that it was this easy to shut the two of you up, I would have insisted on it a long time ago."

[thelostgirl21]

After watching that scene, I'm pretty sure that Radovid's intent was to go ask for Ciri's help and convince her to come with him to Redania, so all the madness would stop.

Seriously, he's all alone, he openly admitted to being afraid, he's got no royal security detail nearby, and I'm pretty sure that Jaskier could easily knock him out with his lute if it ever came to it!

And Ciri is what? A highly trained magically enhanced warrior?

Like there was literally no way he ever could have managed to kidnap her on his own, and I'm fairly certain he's 100% aware of it.

Not to mention that his big "masterplan" had Radovid just initially knocking on the freaking door while both Jaskier and Ciri were inside to come see them!

The fact that he attempted to go inside the cabin without Jaskier's permission is pretty much the worst thing he's ever done "wrong".

Yes, it would have been better for him to wait until Jaskier was awake, and then convince him to let him see Ciri; but, like Jaskier said, "people do stupid things when they feel like they're trapped in a corner".

So, disrespecting Jaskier's boundaries by taking the initiative to go see Ciri himself, likely because he was too afraid that Jaskier would still say "no" if he asked, is not exactly what I would call a "betrayal".

Something that would require a good talk between them, yeah.

But given how terrified that poor Prince was (and he had every reason to be), I can understand why he would have been rather desperate to get an audience with Ciri by that point.

And I get that Jaskier's highly protective of Ciri, and that he's got a hard time believing that someone could just fall in love with him as easily as Radovid did, but come on!

Cutting straight through him like that, by basically telling him he's freaking empty behind his mask?

You know, after Radovid told him that he believes he is someone that sees people as they really are, not as they pretend to be, and that he sees the best in them... Jaskier basically goes straight for the kill by telling Radovid there's no good in him?!

And Radovid just... takes it?

He takes his broken heart, apologizes, and leaves?

And one of the most heartbreaking things is that I think he's not telling Jaskier how bad things are at the Palace, because it might put him in danger, too.

Dijkstra's already threatened to have him killed if he says a word to anyone about that truly happened to Queen Hedwig, and it's very likely that if he tells Jaskier - and Dijsktra and Philippa find out who he spoke to - they'll get rid of both of them.

The more it goes, and the more I'm having a feeling that Radovid really is just that highly emotionally intelligent and perceptive puppy, a bit of an empath, like Jaskier, but definitely not the kind of person that enjoys political strategy and scheming.

He was crying and whimpering alone in the corner of a room upon finding out his guards were dead, for frak's sake!

You know, after Jaskier sort of "broke up" with him (before they even had a chance to really become something), all because he was scared, and had a moment of weakness where he went to see Ciri alone.

And then, he comes back to the Palace to find that all the guards that used to look after him are dead (I wouldn't be surprised if Radovid had become friends with a few of them), and he just huddles in a corner, and then tells Jaskier that he should go, and shouldn't have to listen to him / comfort him.

I'm kinda glad that Jaskier found him, and decided to give him a chance to show him that he didn't betray him and that his feelings for him were 100% genuine; and even implied that he might have gone with Radovid if he hadn't needed to go looking for his family.

It's actually when Radovid told him "you shouldn't have to listen to me", sounding like he was blaming himself for the mistake he made, and minimizing his own hurt pretending he wouldn't be worth the time and efforts, that Jaskier went into "protective mode" and considered that he was being sincere earlier.

I'm just hoping the show won't try to do something extremely dumb like turning this into a sort of "villain origin story" or something.

From what I understand, the books had Dijsktra and Philippa running Redania in Queen Hedwig's name, by forming a Regency Council because Queen Hedwig was too devastated in the wake of her husband's death, and out of her depth / unable to figure out how to run the country in times of war and conflict.

So, essentially they become the true power behind the throne.

And here, they had Queen Hedwig killed because she had an interest in politics, strong opinions, was (according to how Vizimir described her at her funerals) considered a STERN and distant figure, and the King adored her and respected her influence.

Whereas Radovid essentially says "Look, I'm terrible at being a prince, or spy, or anything to do with court and politics, really... But I've found someone I love and I think I can do some good out there..."

And when they put that crown on his head, he was looking on the verge of a panic attack.

This isn't someone that apparently ever craved power, or recognition, or enjoyed politics, or wanted to rule anything.

So what if the show was brave enough to give Queen Hedwig's role to a man who is deeply caring, loving, empathetic, weeps when he discovers that his guards have died, and has a hard time recovering from what happened to his brother and the way it totally crushed his hopes of ever escaping a world of constant betrayal and deceit.

What if Radovid is unable to rule (at least, at first), and therefore the power goes to Dijsktra and Philippa, just like it does in the books.

It's just that instead of a Queen that is unable to take care of the Kingdom and must rely on the decisions of Dijsktra and Philippa, it's a King.

Instead of Vizimir's wife, it's his brother.

He's pretty much just told his brother "I'm not cut for life at court, I can't be of any use to anyone here, but I can be of use to someone I love out there in the world."

And yes the fact that Radovid basically heard Jaskier say "I need to find my family" and his instinct was to immediately go "look, just let me be there for you, and make up for that moment of weakness I had, and let's go help the people you love and protect your family together..." just made me unconditionally fall in love with that character.

Like he's not jealous that Jaskier has people that he loves, and that he considers family, and that he's putting first (because, let's face it they barely know each other), and apparently Radovid would feel happier and safer being out there with him - where the things that want to eat you usually are very clear and open on their intents - than stuck in a viper's nest where you constantly have to watch your back and play mind games to survive.

Sure, if they have Radovid play "Hedwig" there are a few toxic gamers out there that are going to complain about how the "feminazis" have ruined a perfectly good, ruthless villain!

But that ruthless villain never existed in the books. He's literally a 13-year-old child, and the trauma that was suggested that book Radovid went through as a kid - that made him want to take his "rightful place as King", get even with those that tormented him and his mother, and earned him the nickame "Radovid the Stern" - never happened.

Book Radovid was an immature child that seemed a bit entitled and was going in his mind "Oh, just you wait to see what I'm capable of".

TV show Radovid is a very emotionally mature, sensitive, and insightful man that worries that he's taking up too much of Jaskier's time and bothering him with his concerns.

And the minute that he learns that Jaskier's family is in danger is willing to sell as much valuables as he can to get out there and help him get them back!

Like... Why on the Continent would he suddenly become a villain that decides he hates all non-humans and wants all sorceresses dead?! (That's videogame Radovid, not book Radovid, BTW)

But yeah, he doesn't fit the psychological profile of a tyrant at all!

I'm not saying that he can't turn out to be a surprisingly good strategist, given that highly empathetic people are often able to give manipulators a run for their money!

But it's exhausting, it's unpleasant, it's not something they enjoy, and they'd much rather not have to.

Seriously, I never expected to fall in love with Radovid to the point where, if I could, I'd have been tempted to jump in there to protect him from Jaskier, of all people!

Like WTF is this?!

It's probably just like I absolutely adore Geralt, but have often wanted to knock some sense into him when it comes to the way he's been behaving with Jaskier.

It's a case of "a beloved character's issues are targeting another beloved character's issues, and would you guys please stop hurting each other?!?!?"

Like, I get it, Jaskier, but Radovid didn't deserve to be told that everything you believed you saw in him was a lie, because of your own difficulty trusting that someone could really be so enamored with you, and the risk of being blinded by your feeling for him... And is it just me or it's like a huge running theme of Season 3, part 2?

Tissaia and Vilgefortz, Philippa and Dijsktra, Jaskier and Radovid, etc.

Anyway, I just have tons of feels about Radovid that I needed to get out...

[camouflagedpath]

I was rewatching the latter half of season 3 (I know, questionable life choice), and did anyone else find Tissaia’s line about the enchantment procedure really strange?

"They make us sacrifice so much. The cost of learning magic. When I came to Aretuza, if a sorceress fell pregnant, she was kicked out. ‘Divided loyalties,’ said the men. So, I made them take us seriously. The enchantment was never about clearer access to Chaos. It was about getting a seat at the table. And the Brotherhood, they called me bold. I was just desperate. The first of many mistakes."

Like, not only does that completely contradict what Giltine said in S1 about the inherent cost of creation and needing something sacrificed in exchange (beauty + never aging in exchange for a mage’s womb), I feel like it also diminishes the entire plotline of Yennefer being upset about her infertility. She makes peace with it on the show through Sodden and Ciri etc., which is supposed to send a message about how family and fulfillment doesn’t have to come from your womb, and I feel like Tissaia suddenly saying ‘oh wait no, you actually can be a sorceress and get pregnant, I just wanted the men to take us seriously so I removed your ability to do so’ cheapens it somehow? I totally get her being regretful about sending pregnant students away, but to me the whole exchange felt like a cheap and shoehorned excuse to give Tissaia even more life regrets to justify the suicide or whatever. IMO if they wanted to go that route, then they should’ve just brought up the eel pool. But no, instead they have to contradict a whole ass S1 plotline with a stupid one-liner. (Also, what she said makes no sense anyways because the enchantment still occurs at graduation, so you’d still get kicked out of Aretuza if you fell pregnant before that.) Also it's weird that Yennefer didn't even say anything after Tissaia said it??

I also kind of liked how in the witcher books, Tissaia implemented the sterilization procedure because Chaos messes up your fertility anyways and often results in seriously deformed and dangerous offspring, and she wanted to prevent that. It showed a tougher, more rational side to her character that I feel was lost a bit in S2 and S3. I feel like through show!Tissaia’s general plotline with the Brotherhood, Netflix wanted to send this weird pseudo-feminist message about how you shouldn’t try to ‘be one of the men’ to be powerful, which okay fine, but why make old and wise Tissaia of all characters go through that?  

I know this is like 1 small point on the vast list of things Netflix screwed up, but it was bothering me so I decided to make this post lol.

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 70

Masterlist

Chapter 69

Content warning for some upcoming angst filled spicy content (angst filled semi-public sex to be exact). Also giving a heads up for the Blood and Cheese scene upcoming in this chapter, it's not going to be pretty, I had to go out and touch grass after writing that scene...making a few slight changes compared to both the show and the book, but please bare with me.

--------Winterfell: Dream Sequence--------------

"Ciri? Ciri!" Aemma calls out, knowing where she was the moment she drifted to sleep back in Winterfell.

The princess was surprised at herself that she managed to fall asleep at all, but she supposed mourning the loss of her stepbrother following the battle against the Wild Hunt at the Wall had exhausted her more than she had anticipated. Following the news of Luke's death, Jace and Aemma were escorted back to Winterfell by Cregan Stark. Geralt and Yennefer tagged along as well, both to ensure the Wild Hunt would not show up to attempt another abduction on Aemma and to comfort the princess and her brother in their time of grieving. Both Jace and Aemma would rest at Winterfell and gather their bearings for the trip back to Dragonstone at first light. Cregan offered both prince and princess his deepest condolences, knowing what losing a brother is like, and gave the two the space they needed to mourn. The Lord of Winterfell also offered lodgings to Geralt and Yennefer so as to pay them back for aiding the lord and the Night's Watch against the wraith like invaders.

Aemma had yet to tell anyone of what she was feeling, both sadness and loss for learning what befell Luke. She also felt this aching sense of guilt, both because Luke's death came at the hands of Aemond who likely did this as an act of revenge for losing his eye...and because Aemma did nothing more to stop this from happening.  Aemma knew now what that vision Ciri had was about, and she finally understood what Eredin meant when he essentially revealed to her what had happened while she was chasing ghosts up North. She should've done more, she should've tried to reach out to Ciri sooner so she could've told her; had that happened, then Aemma would've flown to Storm's End to stop that tragedy from happening in the first place... No...had Aemma actually had sense earlier in life to better understand her gift, this would never had happened at all...if she didn't lose control back on Driftmark, Luke would never had taken Aemond's eye, and Aemond wouldn't have been in a state where he would've harbored this seething hatred against his nephew for what was done to him as a boy.

It was all Aemma's fault, she was the reason any of this had happened. And with this realization, Aemma began to call out to Ciri in anguish.

"CIRI!"

"Aemma?" Ciri's voice breaks the silence of the dream. Aemma turned to see the woman in question. "Ciri!" Aemma call back in relief, "you're here. Why didn't you show up at the Wall?"

"I was caught up in other things," Ciri tells her, now seeing the distressed look on Aemma's countenance, "Aemma, what's wrong? Did you stop the Wild Hunt?"

Aemma nods, but she broke down in tears. "Aemma, what happened?" "Lucerys...my stepbrother..." Aemma says between broken sobs, "he's dead....Aemond killed him!"

Ciri's eyes widen briefly, realizing her vision had come true, "oh, Aemma..." Ciri pulls Aemma in for a hug to comfort her, "I'm sorry, Aemma," she says as her own tears began to spill, "I'm sorry, I should've been there, I've should've told you sooner. I'm sorry." "It's my fault," Aemma sobs out, "I'm the reason this happened."

"Ciri? Zireael!" At the sound of that voice, Aemma looked up to see Avallac'h standing there maintaining his stoic expression. Her own expression turned to one of grief driven anger, "You..." she addresses at the elf sage with an accusatory tone, pulling away from Ciri, "you knew what happened, what was going to happen." "Aemma-" "You knew what was going to happen to Luke, to my brother!" she points an accusatory finger at Avallac'h, "you kept that information from me!" "You need to understand-" "He was my cousin, my stepbrother! You should've told me! I COULD'VE STOPPED IT!"

"Aemma you need to look at-" "DON'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO LOOK AT!" Aemma's voice became distorted, her rage and anger causing the ground beneath her to crack and split. "Aemma, you're losing control!" Ciri insists with concern.

"I...don't...CARE!!" Aemma screamed in such a manner that her voice was enough to break reality itself...or at least break the reality that is this dream sequence.

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

Aemma practically leapt from her bed, screaming bloody murder. She quickly covered her mouth, however, when she realized where she was. She was back in reality, back in Winterfell, and for a moment, Aemma was actually terrified if she had or could've razed Winterfell to nothing more than rubble from her powers alone.

She walked to the window to see a light snow was falling right now. A peaceful Northern night which did little to ease her frayed nerves. 

"Aemma!" Yennefer rushes in, "Aemma, are alright? What happened?" 

Hearing Yen's voice seemed to bring Aemma back to her senses, "...I'm fine," she assures, "I...I'm sorry I woke you." "I think you might've done more than that," the sorceress points out, "the whole of the castle was shaking just moments ago. The servants were almost certain Winterfell was going to crumble." 

Hearing what she almost did, Aemma felt the tears flow freely down her face, "I'm sorry," she sobs, "I'm sorry, I...I lost control...I didn't mean it...I...I..." she begins to hiccup as Yennefer pulls her close to comfort her.  "Oh, Aemma..." Yen pressed a small kiss to Aemma's temple, "I'm sorry for your loss." "It's all my fault," Aemma insists, "I should've been there...I could've stopped it from happening." Before Yennefer could ask Aemma to elaborate, the doors swung open again. "Aemma, what happened? We heard screaming!" Jace calls out as he rushed in, sword in hand. Trailing behind the prince were Geralt and Cregan, ready to do the same in case Aemma was in trouble. 

"She's fine," Yennefer assures, "well...maybe not fine, but she is unharmed." "What in the Seven Hells was that then?" Cregan demands, "the whole of Winterfell was shaking, I was almost certain the Long Night had come again," he gives Yennefer a certain look, "did you have something to do with that?" 

"I can assure your, my lord, I had nothing to do with what happened," Yen said, almost taking offense at that accusation.  "I meant no disrespect, my lady," Cregan assures, "but...the princess is my betrothed, it is my duty now to ensure no harm has befallen her."

Geralt momentarily raised an eyebrow at that statement, but it went away when he saw the way Aemma pulled away from Yen and ran over to Jace, holding onto him. "I'm sorry, Jace...I'm sorry." Realizing what she was talking about, Jace felt his own eyes moisten, the grief he felt from the loss of his brother coming back.

After some awkward moments of grieving, everyone retired back their chambers to get whatever rest they could. Before Yennefer departed, she heard Aemma speak as she stared out the window again, "it's my fault...it's all my fault." "Aemma, it's not your fault," Yennefer insists, walking over, "you couldn't have known." "If I hadn't lost control that night, none of this would have happened." "What...what do you mean by that?"

Aemma looked up to Yennefer, tear stains in her eyes, "it all happened that night on Driftmark...when Aemond lost his eye..." Aemma told Yen what happened that night, how she lost control of her powers when she tried to stop Luke but it backfired tremendously, and Aemond paid the price for it. "He still believes it was all Luke's doing, but it wasn't," Aemma insists, "he was scared, he wouldn't have done something like that on his own. I was prepared to offer my own eye as payment. I should've stopped him...I should've stopped the fight before it even started."

Yennefer felt sympathy for Aemma, and pulled her in for another comforting hug, "Aemma, I know you feel guilt from that night, but even if that was the case, it still wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault." "It was." "Aemma, you did not bring the knife that night, it was not on you to stop the fight." "I was only trying to keep the family together," Aemma said, "my uncle Viserys always emphasized how important it was...but even he couldn't have been bothered to put in the work himself...I sometimes wondered if he hoped I would've been the one to keep this family from falling apart."  "That was never your burden to bear," Yen assures, "what happened that night was not your fault...you were just a girl. It was not Aemond or Luke's fault either...if anything, I think the blame falls on the adults in your life." "Like my father? And my uncle?" "Among many others" Yen nods, "you are not to blame for forces that were beyond your control. That is not on you."

As appreciative as this assurance was from the sorceress, Aemma still didn't feel too much better, as she was still grieving for the boy who was barely on the cusps of becoming a man.

"I...I need to see him..." "See who?" "Aemond," Aemma answers, "I...I need to go back to King's Landing, I need to speak to him." "Aemma-" "I know my cousin," Aemma insists, "I know he still held a grudge against Luke, but I can't believe he would've killed his nephew in cold blood just like that. It had to be an accident...it had to be. Aemond is not Aegon, he wouldn't have been so reckless and risk becoming a kinslayer." 

 That was actually a lie, one Aemma didn't realize until she said it, when she immediately recalled that Aemond was prepared to wear that brand for the rest of his life if it meant enacting justice against Daemon on Aemma's behalf.

"How exactly do you plan to do that?" Yennefer brings up, having some idea of the conflict that was happening in Westeros at this moment. "I'll go to King's Landing, find some way to send a message to Aemond and have him meet me somewhere in the city so I can speak to him. I need to do this Yen, I know it's  risky, I could get caught or worse, but I have to try."

Yennefer looked at Aemma, the way she spoke with determination, it almost reminded her of Ciri. She also saw the way Aemma spoke of Aemond; even if the princess was betrothed to Warden of the North, she clearly felt some way towards her cousin...perhaps it was more than just familial love, given the way this family of inbred dragon lords operates.

"I can portal us into King's Landing," the sorceress offers, "it won't be easy, it takes a lot of chaos to draw in this part of the world for some reason, but it'll be safer than just sneaking past the gates where any of the guards might recognize you." "You'd do this for me?" Aemma asks, surprised. "Only under the condition that I accompany you," Yennefer insists, "I promised your mother I would aid you and protect you if need be. She finds out I let you put yourself in harm's way like this, she'll never let me live it down."

Aemma nods, accepting the agreement, "don't tell Jace about this...or Geralt for that matter. Neither of them would understand."

Yennefer nods in understanding.

-----------

The next morning, at first light, Jace readied Vermax to make the somber return to Dragonstone, both to be at his mother's side in mourning for Luke, and to inform Rhaenyra of support from both the North and the Vale.

He looked over to Cirillia, who was still sleeping. Something wasn't right. Aemma was supposed to be up and in her riding leathers by now. She agreed to be up at this time so they could both leave at the same time. Jace raced back to the castle to go check up on his stepsister.

He ran past the stables to see Geralt saddling a chestnut horse that was given to him by Cregan for his travels (please do take a wild guess what our white haired witcher decided to name this one).

Having heard Jace coming up to him, the witcher turned to face the prince, confusion on his face, "something wrong?" "Aemma hasn't shown up," Jace says, "we were supposed to fly out together at first light." "She's not with you?" Geralt says, surprised. "I thought she might've talked with you first," Jace says, "She....you haven't seen her?" 

"No," Geralt shakes his head, now realizing not only he hadn't seen Aemma since last night, but he hadn't seen Yennefer either.  With this in mind, Geralt ran back to the castle to look for the sorceress in question. Jace followed, confused as to what the witcher was getting at.

The two looked everywhere.

"My prince?" Cregan walks in, confused as he had expected Jace and Aemma to have left by now, "I thought you would've flown off on your dragon by now. What is wrong?" "Aemma did not show up for our departure," Jace tells him, "I think she's gone." "She flew off already?" "Cirillia is still here," Jace confirms, "but her rider is gone." "She's not the only one who's vanished," Geralt adds, "Yennefer is gone as well."

"But how...what..." Jace put two and two together and realized Aemma had the sorceress take her from Winterfell via a portal. "The witch had something to do with it," he says in realization. "*sighs* Dammit, Yen," Geralt mutters.

-------The Red Keep: the Throne Room---------------

"Where have you been?" you inquire of your brother in a whisper as Jaskier stands next to you. "I was...running errands...for Lord Strong." You feel your face go hot. It's worth noting that since your time in the Red Keep, and having only caught small glimpses of Larys Strong every now and again, you've been actively avoiding the man. Understandable, given that the last encounter with the shoes and him staring at your feet for far longer than was needed still made you uncomfortable thinking about it. To this day, you still don't know if the guy actually went into your rooms himself to leave the shoes on your bed or if he had actually planned ahead and had someone else do it with the intention of claiming the Law of Surprise as payment for helping Geralt make his way to this place from the North.  

Needless to say, you didn't really want anything to do with Larys, less you'd be made to show him your feet again. 

"What kind of errands, dare I ask?" "I'm not sure, but I think at some point, he wanted me to kill somebody," Jaskier admits, "but luckily that person is nowhere within 10 leagues of King's Landing, so I don't have to worry about that. Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be singing for his royal Dragon's children?" "The children are taking their midday naps," you tell him, "Prince Jaehaerys has already had quite a morning with his father taking to him work and all that." "The king really loves to spoil his children," Jaskier says. "Maybe spoil him a little too much," you mutter, "Aegon keeps this up like that around Jaehaerys, I don't exactly anticipate the boy living up to his namesake in the future."

Jaskier nods and looks to see more people had filled the throne room. He also saw smallfolk lining up, "what exactly is this?" "The king is going to hear petitions from the Smallfolk today," you explain, "it'll be his first time since his coronation." "Any predictions?" your brother asks. "I'm not entirely sure," you admit, "I know Aegon is not well versed in politics, not anywhere near the level he should be if he was raised to be the next ruler. I expect his grandfather, the Hand, might try and influence those decisions but I don't know how much Aegon will listen."

At that moment the doors opened. You and Jaskier look to see Aegon was approaching the throne, crown on his head, and his frat bro knights following behind, one of them announcing his arrival. "Aegon the Magnanimous! Second of His Name! King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!" "Hail King Aegon!"

"We'll just have to wait and see what happens then," Jaskier said as Aegon took his seat on the Iron Throne, "Also, where did 'Magnanimous come from?" You shrug in response, "who knows?"

"Let us have the first petition, my good Lord Hand!" Aegon says.

The first was a shepherd who approached, nervousness laced in his voice, "Good morrow, Your Grace." "It's alright, there's no reason to be nervous," Aegon assures, "what's your name?" "Jerard, your Grace." "Good morrow, Jerard. How might your king be of service?" "Tis my flock, your Grace," Jerard explains, "a tenth of them taken by...the Crown on the cusp of winter. If I had the time to plan-" "We should return them," Aegon says. "Your- Your Grace?" "You need your goats for the winter, don't you?" "Sheep, Your Grace." "Sheep. Even better," Aegon says with a smile, looking over his grandfather who approached, likely to consult the king, "I shall make your flock of sheep whole."

Jerard smiled in relief. "What do they need sheep for?" Jaskier asks you in a whisper. "Maybe for the dragons," you whisper back, "I remember they keep a flock of sheep near the dragon pit to feed the dragons that reside there." "What do they need extra sheep then?" "...for the anticipated conflict," you realize, "they anticipate the dragons will be used to fight, so they'll want to keep them well fed."

At that moment Otto had stepped away, and Aegon spoke to the shepherd once more, "after further thought...I had decided that I cannot restore your sheep. If war were to break out my dragons will require feed. Bring the next."

"Aegon looks a little disappointed having to decline that request," Jaskier observes as the next petition was heard. "Otto probably had a hand in that," you say back, "It sounds like Aegon wants to make a good impression on his subjects. Show he is kind and compassionate to the plights of the Smallfolk." "Eager...but as you said, not well versed in politics...or the economics of his own realm for that matter," Jaskier adds, "It's like he wasn't even given any kind of education for ruling as a monarch." 

"That treasonous blockade won't last long, I plan to send Vhagar to burn it to ash," Aegon assured the second petitioner, almost sounded impatient, "bring the next."

The next petitioner was a smith, going by the name of Hugh. You tilted your head a little when you saw this man, noting his head of silver hair. "Does that guy look familiar to you?" you ask your brother, nodding towards Hugh. Jaskier tuned to see for himself, "...Uh, I'm not sure I follow." "Look at his hair," you nod over once again, "a Valyrian characteristic." "Or he could just be older than he looks?" Jaskier points back, "maybe he might be like Geralt." You give Jaskier an incredulous look for that explanation. "Well surely he can't be a Targaryen," Jaskier quietly exasperates. "Well maybe not by name," you agree, "but...he could share blood with them. Julian, you've been around and had your fair share of married women- and women in general." "Very funny." "Have you ever wondered if any of those women have...you know..." "...I've always been careful," Jaskier says, getting somewhat defensive at your implication. "But not every man is," you point out, "I know for a fact not every nobleman is faithful to his wife and vice versa, and I know there are plenty of noblemen who had gotten around in various brothels before settling down, it wouldn't be so far fetch to assume there were Targaryens who were no different in that regard. How do you think I even met Daemon in the first place?"

"Ah...oh," Jaskier was finally able to put together what your were explaining, turning his gaze back to Hugh as the man left, "now that you mention it, the tavern I was at earlier today, I could've sworn I walked past a man with similar features." You nod in acknowledgement as Aegon continued with the petitions. Thinking about what he was doing earlier prior to his assignment by the Master of Whispers, Jaskier whispered to you, changing the subject, "since we're talking about Targaryens and multiplication, have you by any chance come across any rats since we our stay here?"

You give your brother a confused look, "course I've seen rats coming and going," you say like it's obvious, "why do you think this place employs so many rat catchers?" "But say anymore then you usually see?" Jaskier elaborates, "maybe some bigger than what is deemed normal?" You give Jaskier a frown, "where exactly is this coming from, Julian?" "Something Helaena said to me the first night that's stuck with me," Jaskier explains, "something about rats. She's scared of them but...it's not a normal fear, it's something else. I don't know how else to explain it, but this goes beyond just a mere fright of them." 

You ponder your brother's words. Helaena, you'll admit, could come off as odd at times, but perhaps there was something she knew that no one else in this place did. In that case, maybe you might consider keeping a closer eye on those furry little critters.

----------------meanwhile outside the Red Keep--------------

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yennefer asks as she and Aemma look up from outside the gates to the Red Keep.

The two wore cloaks, keeping the hoods over them. Aemma, for an extra precaution, kept her head covered with a scarf so no one would catch sight of her silver blonde locks, which have grown slightly past her shoulder since the time she escaped on dragonback with Rhaenys and her dragon.

"I'm sure," Aemma says, "If I can just speak to Aemond, get a better understanding of what happened at Storm's End...it had to be accident...it had to be accident." "Aemma, you don't know if it was," Yen says with a sad sigh, "I wouldn't exactly call it an accident if your cousin was already chasing your brother on his dragon. How exactly could it be considered an accident if he killed him in that manner?" "No, it had to be," Aemma insists, "Aemond is a lot of things, but a cold blooded killer isn't one of them. He may come off as cold and distant, but he could be kind and..."

"Aemma...are you in love with this boy?" Yennefer asks, causing Aemma to face the sorceress with a certain look, "I...of course I do," she says like it's obvious, "Aemond is my family. I...I was there the day he was born, we share a nameday. When we were children, I referred to him as my nameday gift. We spent much of our youth in the Red Keep when his father took me to ward when my own family was flying around Essos and the Continent." "But you don't just love him in that way," Yen points out. Aemma silently nods to confirm the sorceress's suspicion, "I...I had been with others during my six year travels on the Continent...but Aemond was the one I fully gave myself to...the night when Viserys passed in his sleep. Aemond proposed to me the following morning, he was going to tell his mother that we wanted to get married...but then the coup happened. And I subsequently found myself on the opposing side of the man I love."

Yen sighed, realizing now that Aemma's love for Aemond might currently be clouding her judgment, that she was likely viewing the situation through rose tinted lenses. Yennefer may not know who Aemond is, but it was possible this boy was capable of more then Aemma was giving him credit for. People can change after all, become different from whom they previously were due to the circumstances of their life.

"What exactly is the plan?" the sorceress questions. "There are secret tunnels in the Red Keep," Aemma explains, "if I can just sneak in through one of them and leave a note in Aemond's chambers to meet me outside sometime tonight, I know he'll come for me." "And if you were to get captured?" Yen brings up. Aemma didn't answer, clearly having not thought that far through. Once again, Yen sighed; those rose tinted lenses were so rosy, Aemma couldn't see the red flags in her own plan. "I'll go in," the sorceress offers, "I was only in the Red Keep for mere minutes that night I help rescue your mother, no one would even remember me, and those who would aren't even here."

"Thank you, Yennefer," Aemma says, giving Yen an appreciative smile. "Far be it from to be keep two star crossed lovers apart," Yennefer mutters. "By the way," Aemma brings up as Yen prepares herself, "you never did tell me how you knew my mother...or how you know Geralt for that matter either." "It's a story for another time," Yen tells her, "right now, let's just focus on this ill-fate rendezvous of yours."

-------later at around sunset---------

Aemma paced back and forth at the docks. She hoped Yennefer had been successful in her mission, that the directions she gave the sorceress were clear and precise, and that she was able to locate Aemond's chambers without much trouble. To ensure that the message was genuine, Aemma gave Yen her handkerchief with her initial embroidered into it. Aemma had made this when she was twelve, she showed it to Aemond first when she completed it, he would recognize the pattern. 

Aemma looked up to see the sun disappear from view. It would be dark soon. She didn't want to stay any longer than she could afford lest someone actually came across and somehow recognized her in spite of her disguise.

Right when she was about to call it quits and go find Yennefer, Aemma looked ahead to see a familiar figure about 20 feet from where she stood; tall and slender with a sharp jaw and an eye patch covering the scar she recognized anywhere despite the hood of his cloak concealing his long hair.

Aemma felt her breath escape the moment she caught Aemond's gaze. She wasn't sure what the prince was going to do. Would he call for the City watch to capture her, or would he honor the message she sent and keep silent? Steeling herself, putting her trust in her cousin/lover, Aemma gestures with her head for Aemond to follow.

Aemma led Aemond to an alley where no one would see them. It was a little foolish- okay a lot foolish- to put herself in a vulnerable position. Aemma knew this, but it was the only way they could talk without someone eavesdropping on them. "You came back," Aemond said once they were alone. "I had to," she said, "I...I needed to see you again." "Pfft, did you now?" Aemond scoffs, "is that why you left in the first place? When you left me behind to play traitor with the Pretender? After I professed my love for you? When you agreed to wed me only to be betrothed to someone else?" "Aemond, it wasn't like that!" Aemma insists. "Then what was it then, when word reached King's Landing that your dragon was spotted flying North towards Winterfell?" Aemond brings up, "that...that you were intended to wed Cregan Stark instead." "I didn't want that." "Is that how it is?" Aemond demands, anger and jealousy rising, "was all we had nothing more than a fucking? I take your maidenhead and suddenly you couldn't get enough, so you go as far North to spread your legs for Lord Stark and probably his men for all I know. Perhaps instead of a princess, I had my sights set on wedding a wanton whore." Aemma shoved Aemond back in anger from that comment, "you're one to talk, Aemond," she hissed, almost sneering, "you accuse me of spreading my legs for Lord Stark like some common whore, but from what I heard, you were treating with Borros Baratheon at Storm's End. I know the man has daughters, no doubt he offered you one to choose from. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you made like Aegon and fucked all four of them and chose the best one for yourself. And you dare call me a whore for treating with just ONE man." "Is that jealousy in your voice I hear?" Aemond challenges. "Hardly," Aemma scoffs in response, "especially when I heard what about afterwards." 

Aemond went still at the mention of the aftermath of Storm's End, what Vhagar did to Luke and his dragon. Aemond wanted to tell Aemma what really happened, but he was not about to admit to anyone anytime soon that he lost control of his dragon, especially Aemma, he didn't want her of all people to see him as weak. "I did what I had to do." "I don't believe you," Aemma shakes her head, bringing Aemond back to when her mother had said the same thing, "I don't believe you killed Lucerys in cold blood, it had to be an accident." "Aemma, stop it," Aemond insists. "Please tell me it was an accident, Aemond," Aemma pleads, sounding tearful, "please...I know you still hated Luke for what he did, but you wouldn't have done what you did on purpose. Please, Aemond, I know you. You wouldn't have foolishly risked it all just for petty revenge."

"It wasn't an accident!" Aemond strongly insisted, "I wanted it! I wanted Lucerys to put out his eye, the Strong boy still owed me a debt, and he refused to pay it, so I made him pay with his life!" "NO!" Aemma cried as she shoved Aemond back once again, "I don't believe you!" Aemma threw punches at Aemond, who blocked them, "I don't believe you, Aemond! I don't believe you!" Aemond finally grabbed Aemma by the wrist and shoved her against the alley wall. Aemma struggled, preparing herself to fight off Aemond and get the hell out of this place.

But suddenly she felt Aemond's lips pressed against hers in a near passionate kiss. Aemma allowed him to indulge for a bit, but she pushed her hands against his chest. Aemond pulled back for a moment, allowing himself to catch his breath. "I don't believe you..." Aemma whispers as Aemond leaned his face against hers, their lips close enough to kiss again. Aemond leaned in, allowing his lips to connect to hers once again. Aemma allowed him this.

She missed this, she missed him...and she hated that they were on opposing sides in this conflict.

Aemma felt Aemond start kissing her neck in the same way he did the day she escaped King's Landing. She felt him sneak a hand under her skirts, between her legs. Aemond was surprised how soaked she was down there. His fingers found her clit and he began rubbing in the way he knew would bring her pleasure. Aemma had to stifle her moans as he worked her arousal. Much to her own surprise, she found herself grinding against his hand, and she felt his bulge when he pressed himself closer against her. 

No, this was wrong, Aemma thinks. She shouldn't be doing this with Aemond of all people. She should stop him, and get away from King's Landing and as far away from here and from him as possible.  But she didn't. She allowed him to keep what he was doing. It felt good, and she missed doing this with him. She whined when Aemond pulled his fingers away. He examined the wet contents and then leaned his lips against her ear, allowing her to hear his heavy breathing, "...tell me, sweet beloved cousin...could Cregan Stark make you feel like this? Could Lord Stark bring you to the edge of pleasure in this manner?"

"Fuck you, Aemond," Aemma whispered, though there was no heat in her words. "You already did," Aemond said, almost smug, "and it appears you will be apt to do so again." 

With that, Aemond picked Aemma and took her to the far corner of the alley beneath the shadows. He released himself from his breeches and lifted Aemma's skirts, allowing him to take her against the wall. Aemma bit into Aemond's clothed shoulder to stifle the moans and screams that threaten to escape her lips. She grabbed Aemond's hood and pulled it down, allowing her access to grab his hair and pull it as he thrusts into her. She heard Aemond stifle his own moans, letting her know how much this action spurred him on to keep going.

She felt Aemond sneak his fingers back to her clit again, that along with the thrusting of his cock was enough to push Aemma over the edge. Feeling her fluttering walls squeeze him, it wasn't long before Aemond followed, spilling his seed into her.

When it was over, Aemond placed Aemma down, but Aemma kept hold of Aemond, not trusting that her legs won't give out from under her. Both of them were panting, letting their breaths even out. 

Aemma sighed, resting her head against Aemond's chest, "I still don't believe," she says with a tired sigh, "I know it was an accident." "...but it wasn't," Aemond insists, resting his head on top hers, "Luke took my eye, yes...but his mother took you from me...that's why I did it."

Aemma felt the tears slipped out. She felt her powers course through, allowing her access to Aemond's past to when he was chasing Luke and Arrax on Vhagar across the Stormlands. She felt his rage and hatred like that of a erupting volcano. She saw Aemond losing control of Vhagar when she flew up to chomp Arrax and Luke into her massive jaws. She felt Aemond's anguish when he looked down to realize what Vhagar...what he  had just done. She felt his anguish...and she felt his regret. But he was not going to admit to anyone, least of all her. It's like he was refusing to let himself be vulnerable with her like he used to when they were children. 

"I don't believe that," she said, looking up to Aemond, "it's not too late, Aemond, we can still have the life we want. Come with me...let's fly back to the Continent on Vhagar and Cirillia. We can marry there instead, we can go to Toussaint afterwards and have our life there...please, Aemond." Please, she thought...before she lost more of him than she already had.

Yennefer was right, but not the way the sorceress believed. Aemond may not have wanted Luke killed, but he hated the boy enough to wish for his death. Accident or not, Aemond really was foolish enough to risk being branded a kinslayer if it meant forcing Luke to pay the debt he believed was owed. But the way it happened, if word got out that Aemond lost control of his rage, and lost control of Vhagar, it would make him be seen as weak, and he was not prepared to admit that to anybody, not even to her.

Aemond pressed a chaste kiss to her brow and whispered, "No, it is too late...we can't escape this, Aemma. There's no going back, no matter what my own mother may say. The path set before us cannot be undone."

Aemond really was no longer the person she knew from before, Aemma realized. And she started to cry because of it. For the loss of the boy she once knew.

"I can't just let you walk away, Aemma," Aemond brings up, wiping her tears away. "you know that, yes?" Aemma pulled away as much as she could, looking up to Aemond with sadness in her eyes, "but you have to...I have to go back to Dragonstone...I need to go back and mourn my brother with my family."

Aemond moved about, almost like he was fixing to apprehend Aemma, but the princess had beat him to it. Aemond felt the cold steel of her knife pressed against his side. The prince knew if he moved the wrong way, she wouldn't hesitate to press the pointy end even further through his skin. Aemond looked at Aemma, surprise showing in his eye. He didn't believe she had it in her to follow through with her silent threat, but he wasn't going to risk it.

"I'm sorry, Aemond...I'm sorry..." Aemma slowly pushed Aemond away, giving her the chance to get away from him and run out of the alley and into the streets where Aemond didn't have chance of catching up with her as she disappeared into the throngs of people walking the streets.

Even if he could, he didn't have it in him to pursue her, not this time anyway. Instead, Aemond fell to his knees, the burden of guilt and regret consuming him along with the burden of putting up this front of not being seen as weak towards anybody.

And now he was wondering why it didn't occur to him, before Aemma walked away, to tell her that her mother and uncle were residing in the Red Keep once again. As Alicent holds love for Rhaenyra, clouding her judgement in this conflict, Aemond realized his own words rang true as he himself still holds love for Aemma and it was clouding his own judgement. But Aemma is not the enemy, she was merely led astray, and she refuses to see it.

Aemond knew now at this point, if he was going to see this conflict through, he was going to take that love he holds and squish it, bury it deep down so that he would no longer allow himself to stop from taking action.

-------meanwhile in a nearby tavern--------------

Yennefer downed what was left of her mug of ale before she ordered another one from the barkeep. She took her mug and took a seat at a nearby table. She looked at the door, waiting for Aemma to come back. The deal was supposed to be no more than an hour following sunset, and it has been at least two hours so far.

Yennefer mentally berated herself. She should've stayed somewhere close by to make sure Aemma wouldn't have gotten herself caught in a trap. She made a promise to the Lady of Larks to protect her daughter, she was not about to fail you...not again.

Taking a deep breath, Yennefer downed her entire mug and got up, having made up her mind to go find Aemma and get her away from this place. As she was about to walk out, a familiar male voice got her attention, "Yennefer?"

Yennefer, turned around to see another familiar face, mug in his hand, and the witcher medallion hanging from his neck, "Eskel?"

--------------outside back in town-------------------

Aemma walked down the streets, tears stains on her face. She kept her hood up, hoping nobody would notice her tears nor recognize her face. She looked up, realizing she lost her way to the tavern she was supposed to meet Yennefer at.

She suddenly felt her vision become blurry, almost like she was about to enter the dream world again. "What...Ciri...?"

"Fuck the Hightowers," she heard a deep voice say, startling her. Aemma looked around. There wasn't anybody close to her that she could've heard that voice speak. She looked at one area of the street to see translucent figures speaking to each other, almost like ghosts. Aemma walked over to investigate. Was this her powers coursing through her again, giving her the ability to see ghosts now? She squinted to see the figures weren't ghosts, or at least she didn't think they were. The figure standing next to the man who spoke in that deep voice had his face concealed behind a cloak, but she recognized the form to be her father, especially with the way he smirked. The taller man next to him she recognized to be a Gold Cloak of the City Watch, whom Daemon once led and whom he had many loyal allies and supporters still among those ranks.

Aemma now had to wonder if she was looking into the past, but not in the way she has done so before. It appears Daemon had snuck his way back into King's Landing at some point, and the Gold Cloak had helped him with that.

She saw the two approach a man eating some food. Daemon dangled a pouch of coin at that man, likely to offer him incentive for whatever task he hand in mind. Aemma recognized this man to be a rat catcher, judging by the equipment he kept at his side. Daemon took a seat next to the rat catcher. She heard him introduce the catcher to the gold cloak, "this is my friend," Daemon said, "tonight he's going to be your friend. Tonight, you'll find and slay the Prince Aemond Targaryen. He has silver hair and one eye. Should be easy to find. But I understand he's quite good in a fight. You'll want to take caution."

Aemma placed a hand over her mouth when she saw her father place coin pouch on top the barrel the catcher was eating on, realizing what was happening, even as the vision before her dissipated. Aemond had killed Luke to pay the debt for taking his eye. But now it seems Daemon was intent on having Aemond killed to exact vengeance on Rhaenyra's behalf for the death of her son. Did Rhaenyra tell him to do this? No, it couldn't be the case...or what if it was?

No doubt Rhaenyra is still mourning the loss of her second born son, whom Aemma knew she loved more then the rest of her children. What if she had taken it upon herself to act so rashly? Instead of an eye for an eye, it was now a son for a son?

Whatever the case, whether Daemon was acting on his own or carrying out Rhaenyra's bidding, Blood and Cheese had been sent to the Red Keep, however long ago, with the purpose of assassinating Aemond. She needed to go find Yennefer....no, she needed to rush to the Red Keep and warn her cousin.

Torn between what she should do, Aemma turned and sprinted for the Keep. She would need to go through Maegor's tunnels with any hope of sneaking in without getting caught. As she ran, storm clouds had started to gather. Lighting split the sky and thunder roared as the rain started to pour down.

---------------meanwhile back in the Red Keep------------

You walk down the halls, looking out to see it was starting to rain. Any other night, this would've been seen as normal, but with Jaskier's words ringing in your ears concerning the rats and Helaena's fears of them, and the fact there wasn't anyone else spotted in these halls, you couldn't help but have a sense of foreboding.

Something was going to happen tonight...something bad, and you could feel it in your gut.

A clattering of metal startled you. You look into the next room to spot  a tall, burly man standing inside. You tilted your head  a little in suspicion, wondering who this man was, and what he was doing. He had a torch in one hand and a rat trap in the other. "For the rats," the man says like it's obvious. 

You note the way he knelt down to set the trap. You've seen the professional rat catchers do this before, it didn't exactly look like this one knew what he was doing. He couldn't be an amateur starting off, they wouldn't employ those this late at night.  Something was not right.

You got a better look at this man from the torch light. He did look familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on how. Either way, it was clear that he didn't belong here. You silently back out of the room and walk as fast as you could without causing sound, with the intention of alerting the nearest guard.

Instead, when you turned around corner, you came face to face with the nursery, and what was inside. You saw another man in there, holding a knife to Helaena's throat, shushing her to keep her from screaming for help. The man, Cheese, looked to see you standing there, eyes wide with fear. "Helaena!" you whisper shout. "Don't even think of making a sound," Cheese warns, pressing the pointed end of his knife against Helaena's skin, "or I make her blood spill from her throat."

The other man, Blood, came up from behind you and grabbed you, placing a hand over your mouth to keep you from calling for help. Blood looked to see Helaena in Cheese's hold, "who the fuck is she?" he demands. "She's the queen she is," Cheese answers in a maddening voice. "'A son for a son', he said," Blood scolds, "does she look like a fucking son to you?"  He said? Who said, you think to yourself. You look up at Blood to realize where you may have seen him before. He looked like the kind of man who would belong to the City Watch...a Gold Cloak...men who were fiercely loyal to Daemon when he was appointed the Watch's commander. Did Daemon send these men here? For what? Cheese nodded towards the beds where the twins were sleeping, and also towards the crib where Maelor soundly slept. Blood slowly released you from his grip, "don't even think of calling for help," he warns, "lest my friend lose his hold on that knife of his." You nod in understanding. Blood pushed you back as he went to inspect the beds while the children blissfully slept, unaware of the danger they were in.

A son for a son...one of Aegon's sons to pay for the loss of one of Rhaenyra's. The mere thought of such an act of revenge was more than enough to make the bile rise to the back of your throat. Daemon, you realize, had sent these men to enact vengeance on behalf of his queen.

"We need to get our head and get out," Cheese insists, still keeping Helaena as his hostage. "There's three of them," Blood says, "two of them are boys. We only need one." He turns to Helaena, whom Cheese released from his grip, "do anything but what I ask, and we'll bleed the lot of ya."  Cheese pushed Helaena back, and you were quick to catch her, "are you alright?' you ask to which Helaena quietly nods. The children were still in danger, you couldn't risk calling for help.

"Which one?" Blood demands. Helaena stood there in silent terror as you held her for comfort. "A son for a son," Blood repeats, "we only need one. Choose which of your boys will die and we will spare the other one."

A gasp left your mouth, realizing what they were forcing Helaena to do. "You were sent here by Daemon, weren't you?" you accuse, looking at Blood, "I thought you looked familiar." "I could say the same of you," Blood points back, "the Lady of Larks. You have not been seen in quite some time..."

"I have a necklace," Helaena says, taking it off and prepared to hand it to the men, "it is of great value." "If this is about money, I am more than ready to offer more," you add as Blood took the necklace from the young queen, "whatever Daemon offered, I'll double it and then some."

"That's not a son," Blood flatly says.

You saw the tears in Helaena's eyes. She looked between Jaehaerys and Maelor. In her dissociated state, she pointed at the crib where Maelor was sleeping. Helaena could only stare as Blood and Cheese prepare to finish the job, but you were not about to give up.

"You said a son for a son!' you bring up, stopping the men in their tracks, "you said a son for a son," you repeat, "If Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra...no, if Daemon is in need of a son...then let me be the one to give it to him."  Blood and Cheese both frowned in response. "It just so happens I...owe the king consort a son," you continue, "he demanded one from me 16 years ago, but I wasn't able to follow through. I'm here now once again, that debt still holds over me. If Daemon wants a son in place of the one lost...than take me to him so that I may give him one...do it, and I'll triple what was promised for payment."

You didn't exactly think this bluff of yours through. You weren't sure if these men would accept, but nobody outside your own circle knew of the events following your escape from the Red Keep that night. No one else knew of the woeful turn you took following your miscarriage, how you were basically at death's door when the elven sorceress Francesca brought you back from the brink at the expense of your womb. These men didn't know and there's no way Daemon could ever have found out.

It wasn't your best plan. The last thing you ever wanted was to be anywhere near that silver haired monster again. But you didn't want to see any of these children die anymore than their mother. They were innocents, they didn't deserve it.

For a moment, it looked like Blood at least was considering your counter offer. 

But in that moment, he smacked you across the face, the impact being enough to send you sliding against the floor next to Maelor's crib and rendering you unconscious. 

Blood turned to a sleeping Jaehaerys instead of Maelor, despite the tot being the one Helaena chose in place of her oldest boy.  The young queen could only watch in horror as Blood covered Jaehaerys' mouth while Cheese took the knife to complete the horrid task at hand.

Helaena ran over to Jaehaera and scooped the girl into her arms before she ran out of the room as fast as she could. 

By the time you came back to your senses, the men had left. You got up to see Maelor was soundly sleeping in his crib. A son for a son. Instead of Maelor, they must've have gone for the other one. You turn your gaze to the bed where Jaehaerys was supposed to be sleeping. You notice Jaehaera was gone...as was Helaena.

You dared to approach the Jaehaerys' bed and lift the covers. The moment you caught sight of the headless body, you back away from the bed, the horrific imaged etched in your mind. You needed to ground yourself, so you go to pick up Maelor. 

You couldn't will your legs to move. Instead, you lean against the wall, and slide down till you were sitting on the floor. Maelor continued to sleep in your arms, even as tears slipped from your eyes.

Even when you were leagues away from him, Daemon still found a way to hurt and traumatize you once again...and this time, it came at the expense of the innocents who got in his way.

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

Jaskier was walking down the hall when he saw Helaena running across with Jaehaera in her arms. His eyes widen when he saw the look of terror on the young queen's face.

Jaskier ran to the intersection, looking in the opposite direction to see if anyone was chasing her. The Bard knew something was not right. He ran after Helaena in case she needed someone to protect her and her child.

"Your Grace? Queen Helaena? What happened? What's going on?"

Seeing Helaena was still in his sights, Jaskier picked up the pace as the queen disappeared into the next room. Jaskier crossed the threshold. "Helaena?" Jaskier calls out, seeing the young queen sit on the floor at the far end of the bed in a terrified state, "what happened? Did someone...?"

Jaskier stopped when he looked up to see Alicent sitting up, quickly covering her naked body with a bed sheet while Criston Cole hastily got off the bed and get his clothes back on. Alicent had a look of shock and terror, both for Jaskier catching her in such a compromising situation, and for fearful concern for her only daughter who had fled into her chambers holding Jaehaera.

Helaena's small whimpers took both Alicent and Jaskier out of the awkwardness and turn their attention to the young queen as she clings to her daughter for dear life, small tears having slipped out. The sounds of Jaehaerys' muffled screams going silent still haunted her, despite having heard them before in previous dreams.

"...they killed the boy...the rats killed my boy..."

[hanzajesthanza]

a few of the most witcher plot-relevant and interesting things i learned from reading more interviews with sapkowski:

he originally intended the witcher pentalogy as a trilogy, but when he came down to it, he realized the time spent between the release of each book would be too long (causing people to lose interest in and age out of the series), and that each book would be very, very big. so he decided to structure the idea as a pentalogy instead, and wanted it to be called the Witcher Pentateuch, however the publisher wanted to put the Witcher Saga. and thus it was known as the saga, a name he does not like…

the events of the short stories “sword of destiny” and “something more” were initially intended to be part of the cycle—not bound with the rest of the short stories. this is owing to the fact that they are about ciri and her bond with geralt.

sapkowski was planning the witcher cycle around the time “a question of price” was being published (‘89). it was maciej parowski (as well as a fan at the time) who noticed the rising action and pointed out the idea of a hero (heroine!) being born as geralt’s surprise child, and a cycle about this hero born to the witcher. sapkowski hadn’t actually considered this before it was pointed out to him; however, he then developed the idea from there, and allegedly began to develop the cycle in this year. the very first idea of which that he had was the fight between of bonhart and the rats—a scene which would only appear in print almost an entire decade later in ‘97.

the fish soup geralt’s company makes is real and actually one of sapkowski’s specialties, something he has made a lot when he goes fishing. the recipe is genuinely his, including cahir’s hauberk which they use to strain the soup—in real life, he used gauze to strain the soup, because a colander was too much to carry with him in his equipment. this all is not particularly surprising because it is known that he fishes a lot, but it is somewhat interesting to me because he has said he usually practices catch and release. in another interview, he attests to his own cooking skills and says out of everything he cooks he’s best at making soup, particularly fish soup.

(i’ve known this one for a while, but while i’m at it!) the deaths of the characters which die in the last book were all planned, no dice-rolling involved (sapkowski often rebukes the accusations that he writes by “rolling the dice,” as if he were DMing a D&D game (which he did, actually, by the way, back in the day) ridiculing the idea that: “snake eyes popped out, so i killed them”). the deaths of the members of geralt’s company at castle stygga were very intentional as a rebuking of the “black citadel” trope. but at the same time, he says, “it was more difficult with the vampire, i admit” and there were versions of the last book in which regis survived. however, it is necessary that regis dies because it takes all of vilgefortz’ power to kill him (… so, logically speaking (although this is not D&D!) regis’ death is the primary reason why vilgefortz can even be challenged by geralt at this point—which makes me think, had regis not pulled such a stunt, vilgefortz would have killed geralt and yennefer! … this makes the line “though i mainly owe my life to…” make a lot of sense.)

[yellowspiralbound]

Since season 3 of The Witcher Netflix comes out tomorrow...here are some of my concerns on adaptation from this season onward. Potential spoilers for the future seasons and definite spoilers for the books. Long post ahead.

The Hansa's Dynamic

I am so worried about how the Hansa is going to be handled in the show. Like shaking in my boots terrified. The showrunners already really messed up Dandelion & Geralt's dynamic...and that's one of the easier dynamics present in the Hansa imo. The dynamic is already going to be screwy because Cahir is a middle aged man and not a petulant teenager if he's present in the Hansa at all (though I think he will be since Emhyr called him and Fringilla out at the end of s2).

Emhyr as a Character

Speaking of Emhyr...I think they might attempt to give him a redemption arc, and I cannot emphasize how bad of an idea that is. They're going to retcon the whole "wanting to impregnate Ciri" bit, which I have mixed feelings on. Like yes, on one hand that's fucking gross but on the other hand, that bit is in there to show how fucked up Emhyr is and why Geralt needs to get to Ciri so quickly; it adds a sense of urgency to the Hansa's travels. If I see Emhyr sympathizers on my dash after this season I will lose my fucking mind.

Milva's Pregnancy & Related Scenes

I suspect that Milva's pregnancy is going to be cut entirely or play up the rest of the Hansa's concern for her as a weird "men think they can control women's bodies" thing which Milva will have to fight with them about so the show can be appropriately pro-choice without exploring any of the pro-choice nuance the books bring up. I can just see Regis talking to the guys about it being turned into a "the father deserves a say in a woman's choice to abort" scenario instead of the "I will give this woman her abortion regardless of what you all think about that (and I've made that VERY clear) but I think she's making this choice because she believes you all will abandon her/not support her if she wants to keep this baby and someone needs to make sure that she knows that won't happen" scenario that it actually is. This is also plays into my concerns about the Hansa's dynamic as changing that scene changes it irreparably.

Characterizing Nilfgaard as a Nation

Right now I feel like the show could go one of two ways 1) Nilfgaard is wrong in everything it does or 2) Nilfgaard is right in everything it does (if Emhyr gets a redemption arc). The show has already made a show of the Northern Realms' racism, which is book accurate mind you, but I fear this will translate to a sort of "Nilfgaard is the better nation as its less racist" scenario. While Nilfgaard is better in that aspect and a few others, it is still a militant slave nation. Nilfgaard and the Northern Realms both have their evils and their virtues; that's a big point in the books and the games. Neither nation is 100% good or 100% bad - they're just nations. I don't think the show will be able to handle that kind of nuance.

Jaskier & Radovid...

Apparently, Radovid is supposed to be one of Jask's love interests this season. Radovid is a massive racist, a war criminal, and a teenager. I'm sure all of that's going to be retconned but for fuck's sake just make a new character if you're going to age up and completely change the personality and insanity of an existing one. Important note: I am 1000% in support of queer Jask. I have never shipped that man with a woman in my life (even in the books and games) but for the love of God why did his LI have to be fucking RADOVID??

Mistle & the Rats

If they make Ciri and Mistle a love story, I am going to be disappointed but not surprised. Let me be clear: Mistle is a rapist and an abuser. I suspect they will change that to shoehorn in a queer relationship (even though Triss and Philippa are RIGHT THERE if they want a semi-canon wlw couple). The Rats as a whole are definitely going to be made into more robinhood-like characters because God forbid a main character like Ciri is morally grey or does questionable/bad things.

Geralt's Disability

If this season ends with the Vilgefortz and Geralt fight, as I suspect it might, Geralt will be disabled permanently by the end of this season. The dryads do not fix it. Magic does not fix it. Geralt becomes disabled and stays disabled. His disability becomes a hindrance during the books and the reader actively sees him grapple with the fallout of this. I do not trust this show to handle that - especially with how much more closed off Geralt is in the show compared to the books. If I had to guess, Geralt's disability will be handwaved away or mentioned in passing and never actually shown to impact him which is not cool.