#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ interaction ]

[bloodofthefates]

“You could’ve died, you know…” @ ciri.

Ciri knew he was right even without it being spoken aloud; both of them equally understood the gravity of the situation she'd put herself in, bypassing all possible consequences of her actions in her usual fit of stubbornness. It was equal parts shame and embarrassment that kept her from being able to look him in the eye as he scolded her now, her back stull turned to Geralt and keeping her from facing him head on and the speech that awaited her when she did. Ciri kept her gaze trained low on the ground at her feet, jaw set and teeth clenched with residual anger tensing the muscles of her fists at her sides. It wasn't him or anyone else she was mad at, but herself for having put herself in danger to begin with and now for how childish and foolish she felt beneath Geralt's watchful eyes. "I could die anytime or even in my sleep..." It was a feeble and pathetic comeback, even for her usual snark and wit but she wasn't feeling entirely up to her usual fighting form. "Besides, what's the point in learning to fight if you're always just going to tell me to run away from danger?" It was her point, posed as a question to him that forced her to finally turn on her heel and face him, braid whipping over her shoulder as she defensively crossed her arms over her chest and clearly gearing up for another battle of an entirely different nature. "Death has been chasing me my entire life, why should today be any different?"

[sayafics]

Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter IV

Hey guys! Sorry for taking such a long break, I had a lot of fsmily events over the last few weeks and had a hard time juggling time.

I do hope you enjoy the update, though. I think this chapter will be the last for this series unless there's specific prompts/ideas you want to see. (If so, let me know in the comments or asks! I'd be v happy to write them <33)

TW: implied SA, slight violence

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Geralt had searched for months, the days scraping by as he looked for Andromeda in every shadow, in every smile, in every laugh that haunted him on his travels.

He had left his friends - left them all so he could find her.

Cirilla was safe with Yennefer at Aretuza, and Jaskier had wandered to distant lands, his heart full of broken ballads of an unfinished journey.

Geralt and Yennefer had kept a tentative friendship, ever so cautious to not overstep the boundaries Geralt had so diligently drawn up. Friendship came to them with ease, but every interaction was soured by guilt from one party and longing from the other.

Geralt ventured through the continents, unsure of what guided him and where. His mind was bare of thoughts and his heart burning with emotions he had never been taught to deal with. He was a mess.

He had barely slept since Andromeda had left, living off the scarcest meals as his stomach turned to lead at the idea she may be starving in some backwashed village all because he had messed up and sent her running.

Andromeda was a princess. She was not made for the life he lives. Yet she still followed him into danger, still healed his every wound, and still stood bravely in the face of death if it meant Cirilla would be okay.

She trusted Geralt, trusted him to help them survive, to help them live and find a purpose. Now she was alone, far from them all. And he did not even know if she was safe.

Andromeda was an enigma, a presence so addicting he felt his skin crawl at the realisation he had been so far apart from her for so long. His heart would burn as it longed for her. His mind was plagued with the sound of her voice, his skin imprinted with the sensation of her hands brushing against his skin as she took care to treat his wounds after every battle, his eyes tracing her silohuette in the shadows as he forced himself to sleep at night.

Months.

Months of searching and no success.

Geralt was laid back in a bed, facing the ceiling as he laid an arm over his forehead and scrunched his eyes closed in defeat. He couldn't get her out of his head, her eyes burned into his mind, and sometimes, in the dead of night, he would pretend she was watching him as he slept. Ever a watchful eye, a caring friend, a loving mate.

Perhaps that was why this situation took him by surprise.

He smelt it - a deep and honeyed scent of orange blossoms and jasmine tickling his senses as he leapt up from his place on the bed.

He inhaled deeply, a wild beast searching for its prey. His shoulders tensed as he leapt up to replace his sword and dagger into their respective belts, hands rummaging through blankets and over furniture to collect trinkets and vials he had thrown carelessly across the tavern room as he lost himself in his grief.

Geralt marched through the tavern he had taken residence in, deaf to the cries of indignation of drunk patrons he barged past and eyes seeking a familiar head of hair in the crowd.

His senses led him far from the tavern he hoped Andromeda was hidden in, pushing him to march towards the outskirts of town.

Geralt had never found himself fearing for his life, never had he faced a creature he could not slay and never had he doubted the skills instilled upon him from infancy.

Yet, in this moment now, as he tore through the wilderness in the careful embrace of the night sky, the air thick with fear and horror as the smell he had been craving - the smell he had been fantasising about for months - made itself known to him and grew stronger as he drew closer, he felt a shred of fear wedge itself in his heart.

He could hear a stuttered heartbeat, ragged breaths, and a cloying scent of terror threatened to burn his eyes.

He dared not speak a word, fearful even the faintest whisper would turn his trail into phantom sensations, and he would be following nothing but an echo. A ghost of the woman he had lost.

Still, his shoulders were raised in determination, eyes narrow as he searched through overgrown shrubs and low-hanging trees, head on a swivel as the hand on his right side twitched, ready to reach for his sword if a threat made itself known.

"Please..."

It was a quiet whisper, a pleading whine. And that's how Geralt knew.

It was her.

He would recognise the melody of her voice anywhere. He could be holding onto this life by a thread, and her voice would the only thing he wanted. Needed.

Geralt broke out into a sprint, hand drawing out his sword as he feared what creature could have her so subdued by fear.

He came to a stumbled halt as he took the scene in ahead of his, hand tightening around his sword as a threatening sneer painted itself across his face.

There she stood with her back to him, she was dressed in leathers. They looked clean, neat. Next to her foot laid a single dagger, the hand that seemingly held it before had blood flowing from it, ruby pearls cascading down her fingers to seep into the damp soil.

The sight reminded him of the night with the ghouls, of how he had bled similarly before running to find her, only to miss her by a hair's breadth.

He had found her now.

But she was not safe.

Her back was to him, but he could see how her figure trembled in fear, a calloused hand twisted itself into the careless waves her hair had been flowing down her back in, a knife held to her throat as a man threatened her with a painful death, and forsaken torture.

It didn't take long for the pair to realise someone had joined them, and as the assailant took in Geralt's presence he twisted the girl harshly so her back was against his chest, the hand in her hair tugging her head back so he could press the knife harshly into her skin.

"Geralt."

Andromeda's eyes were wide, pupils blown by fear and mouth parted in surprise.

She looked... good.

She looked healthy, and had it not been for this moment he had stumbled upon, Geralt was sure she had been safe too. The hollows of her face had filled slightly over the months she had been gone. Her eyes no longer held an ache and were not weighed down by pain and longing. As though she had been eating properly, and was able to sleep through the night despite her fear of the dark.

"Rory..."

Her face shuttered at his whisper, drawing in a sharp breath as she ignored the threat of the man behind her and focused on taking in the man who stood in front of her.

Despite all his betrayals, all the hurt he had inflicted upon her, despite his harsh words and unprovoked actions, she found a weight lifting from her shoulders at the sight of him.

He looked ragged, as though he was worn down and tired. And some part of Andromeda was selfish enough to hope she was the cause of it.

A wince escaped her as the man pressed the knife harder against her throat, feeling a warm trickle down her throat, pooling at the hollow at the base of her nack.

A growl ripped from Geralt's throat, "let her go and I'll give you a quick death."

The man scoffed, "an' why should I do that? She's mine, I found 'er first. Get lost Witcher, we don' want y'r lot 'round here."

Geralt huffed in amusement, taking a step foward as he raised his sword higher in a show of promise, "what do you want? If not a quick death."

The man's eyes narrowed, his dark, bushy brows drawing into a frown and peeking past the strands of ebony hair that fell over his face in rivulets. His face had paled when he caught sight of the Witcher, but now it began to redden at the reminder of the cause of his indignation, "this bitch stole me silver. I need repayment, so 'm here t' get it. Been huntin' her down for weeks now, quick little brat, this one. Think I deserve a reward."

A leering smile stretched across the face of the gaunt man, the hand in her hair leaving to wrap around her waist as he pulled her further into him, pressing and feeling.

Andromeda screwed her eyes shut as nausea threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Geralt twisted his head, his heart roaring at the scent of fear that rolled off her in crashing waves, at her quiet whimpers and horrified glances.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a hefty bag he had been rewarded for a recent job he had been successful in. He threw it at the man's feet, wary to give into violence so soon, afraid his need for vengeance would only cause Andromeda more hurt.

No, first she had to be safe. Then he would do what his mind was screaming for him to when he first came upon the scene.

The man looked towards the bag in amusement, eyes dragging their way back to Geralt - "no amount of silvers goin' t' gimme what I need."

"And what do you need?"

"Her. Or her bits at least."

Geralt's heart thudded at his lecherous smile and travelling hands, face grim as he tried to think of a way to help without risking Andromeda getting hurt.

Andromeda spoke then, "then you'll let me go?"

Her voice was quiet, tainted with despair and dread. Geralt screwed his face up in anger and cut off the man with conviction before he spoke, "you won't touch her."

The man laughed unashamedly, head thrown back in glee, "already am Witcher, see."

His hands roved over her, dragging harshly from her waist to her stomach, spanning up to the valley of her breasts and tracing her throat before winding itself in her hair once more. All the while, Andromeda screwed her eyes shut, her stomach roiling in protest at the feel of his touch.

"It's okay, Geralt," there was a whisper of defeat as she looked at him, her eyes glittered as they pooled with expectant tears. The situation was too precarious, too unpredictable. She knew Geralt couldn't help her without risking her life, and a part of her felt envious when she thought of how he had succeeded in helping those who had been in much more vile situations than her own. A traiterous voice told her that if Yennefer had been in her place, he would have fought endlessly for her safety without hesitation.

But Andromeda was not Yennefer, and she didn't hold the same place in Geralt's heart that Yennefer did.

"It's okay," she repeated, her voice stronger despite the fact she felt herself breaking as the seconds passed. She would accept the fate ahead of her. She would pray for her survival and beg the Fates to allow her the strength to move past it and be better.

But if she were to succumb to death, she would walk into its welcoming arms with a relieved smile, "it's okay, Geralt," tears flowed down her face freely now, shoulders lowering as she forced her body to relax, "you'll be free." To love Yennefer, to be with her without guilt.

She had expected to find silent relief in his eyes or a sigh of understanding to escape past his lips. Instead, her words seemed to anger him. Her acceptance of her fate, her willingness to give her body and free will away simply because she thought he would be happy, ignited a blazing fire within him.

Geralt would fight endlessly for Yennefer. But he would wage wars for Andromeda. He would level cities and burn worlds in her name.

It was Andromeda who he pined for all these years, Andromeda whom he wished to pick but felt undeserving of, Andromeda who he was tied to so intricately that he revered the bonds which attached them with unadulterated adoration.

It was Andromeda. It has always been Andromeda.

Geralt nodded, his face expressionless as he lowered the arm holding his sword. The assailant fould himself straightening in surprise, baffled at how the Witcher had given up so easily.

Andromeda's face crumpled in a mixture of understanding and disbelief. It was what she had expected. She wasn't Yennefer.

Geralt lowered himself to the ground, bending at the knees as he placatingly spoke, "I'm going to put the sword down, then I will leave."

The man didn't understand why Geralt would discard his sword before leaving. If Geralt accepted the assailant's terms, then he could leave freely with his weapon if he so wished.

He opened his mouth to speak as such, but a vicious roar escaped Geralt, one filled with grief and guilt and anger as his left hand was thrown forward from behind his back and a knife lodged into the dark-haired man's kneecap.

The assailant let out a wail of agony, falling to the ground harshly. He hadn't expected the pain, hadn't expected Geralt's harsh attack, so the knife fell freely from his hands without causing Andromeda much hurt.

She fell to the floor with the injured man, but before he could reach for her once more she leapt away from him, eyes wide in fear as she saw how he frothed at the mouth and spewed off slurs at both herself and Geralt.

Geralt didn't wait a moment longer, leaving his sword behind he lauched himself at the man. Geralt burned with rage, every scent and every sound a reminder of how close he was to losing Andromeda all over again.

He continued wailing on the man, every hit harder than the last, and his anger did not wane until the man took a rattled last breath. It was then he looked up to find Andromeda staring at him in stunned silence.

Andromeda should have been wary and fearful of Geralt. Her heart should have trembled as he stood to step over the crumpled corpse to stalk his way to her. She should have trembled and cried at the sight of him inhaling deeply, refamiliarising himself with her scent and the overwhelming bounds of emotions that spurted from her uncontrollably.

But as she reached towards his hand that was stretched towards her, palm up - staring at his raw and bleeding knuckles, at the spurts of blood which speckled across his face and the greasy strands of hair that fell across his face - she found herself bubbling in desire.

He had done this for her. To protect her.

She glanced towards the motionless body behind Geralt, hand finally enclosed in his own as he tugged her up to stand - he had killed for her.

He had killed for her.

Andromeda didn't have a chance to look into his eyes, to see the passion and fear and love that drowned his amber eyes. Instead, Geralt drew her into a shaky embrace, as though he couldn't believe she was standing in front of him, as though he couldn't believe he had found her.

When Andromeda didn't rear back from his gentle touches, he tightened his arms around her as a shuddered breath escaped him. He buried his head in the tresses of her hair, finding solace in the familiar scent of orange blossoms and jasmine as he i haled deeply. He tried commiting her form to memory, tried to memorise how her body melded into his own, how it fit against him.

But Geralt could spend an eternity with her in his embrace, and he would still yearn to hold her for longer.

Geralt stiffened at the feeling of a light caress against his back, it was a hesitant touch he soon recognised as Andromeda returning his embrace.

He could no longer help it.

Geralt of Rivia. Butcher of Blaviken. The White Wolf. The Witcher.

All of these twisted parts of his were warriors, stripped of emotions and imbued with skills and tactics.

Yet, in her warm embrace, his eyes began to burn as traiterous tears escaped.

Andromeda closed her eyes in quiet relief at the feeling of his tears against her head, hoping to cherish the moment before Geralt of Rivia replaced her Geralt.

Before Yennefer's Geralt took the place of her own.

"Come back."

Yennefer's Geralt never did come back, and Andromeda found herself wondering if he had even existed in the first play or if he had simply been a mask to hide Geralt's deeper feelings.

His voice was raw, it was quiet. Almost child-like, tinged with desperation as he held onto her tighter, fearful she would slip between his fingers once more.

"Come back, Rory," he pleaded, "come back to me. Come back with me."

She shut her eyes in agony, knowing every inch of her being begged her to say yes. But she knew better, after all this time, she knew better than to blindly say yes.

The truth was, over the last few months that she had been gone, there were no burning sensations that plagued her. There was no sign through her bond to Geralt displaying that he was laying with another.

Not even a burn of the lips like the one she had felt so many moons ago.

But she knew better.

"Do you love her?"

She had to know. She couldn't leave him without knowing, and she couldn't stay when she thought he did.

Geralt pulled back, hands reaching to cup her face as he pulled her face up to look at him, his eyes earnest as he spoke, "I did. Perhaps a part of me still does."

He saw the way her face crumpled at that, but he forced himself to continue, "but it's a thing of the past. I picked you. I pick you. I have every day since that night by the fire"

A harsh laugh escaped her as she tried to pull away unsuccessfully, "then why did you kiss her that night?"

He closed his eyes as he was overcome with guilt, "I didn't do it because I love her. I told her I wanted you, I needed you. She wanted to say goodbye. And it was wrong of me, I know, and I am so sorry, little one. But it is over, never to happen again."

"How can I believe you? You lied to me once already."

Her words were spoken defeatedly, but it caused determination to rise in Geralt. He brought a hand to reach for her own, placing her palm against his chest, against his heart - "ask me."

She looked at him in confusion, a small frown tugging at her lips, "what?"

"Ask me."

She knew what he meant, of course she did and she found herself breaking into a sweat as she tried to string her words together.

"Do- do you love me, Geralt?"

"Only you, only ever you." Andromeda could feel his thudding heart, the way it beat against its cage as he confessed the truth after so long, begging to bare himself to the girl. To show all his scars and faults, and plead with her to accept him and love him as he is.

She found her own heart began to beat in sync.

"It's only ever been you, Rory. You're all I ever want," he leaned closer to her, nose brushing against her own as his breath fanned over her mouth, the sensation causing blood to rush and tint her face a darkened pink. "I love you," the whispered confession came out at a rushing pace. He began echoing his words as he teetered between kissing her or letting her go.

Thankfully, heart satiated by the confession, spirits reignited, and doubts diminished, she looked at Geralt with eyes full of adoration. Her hands skimmed up the leathers of his arm, carressing over his broad shoulders before tickling up his neck as they took their place at the edge of his jaw, close enough to tug a few strands of hair as she dragged him closer.

Her tongue flicked out her mouth, lightly tracing the shape of his lips only a breath away, every accidental brush against his lips caused Geralt to flush red until his impatience got the better of him, "kiss me."

The demand was fulfilled with vigour as Andromeda soared up on her toes as Geralt leaned down. They met with a soft kiss, their lips gliding against each other as hesitance melted into passion, and they began to pour eons' worth of unreminisced desires into a single kiss.

The kiss caused their souls to brighten, a pleasurable burn racing through their body as the claim Geralt had made all those years ago sang harmoniously at their union.

Andromeda wasn't sure how long they had been kissing, but when she pulled back to gasp for air she found herself tucking back some loose strands of hair behind his ear, a shy smile bracing her face as she confessed, "I love you too."

"Come home, little love."

Home was where her heart lived, with her family. With a grumpy Witcher, a runaway princess, and a boisterous bard.

"Take me home, Geralt. Take me whever you go."

They stood there for some time, their heads leaning against one another, eyes closed as they basked in each other's presence.

Andromeda's hand found its way back to Geralt's chest, finding solace in the racing beats of his heart.

Geralt's hands had never left Andromeda's face, absentmindedly tracing the contours of her face, following every blemish and scar that graced her skin.

Soon night turned into dawn, and they looked at each other with renewed vigour in the golden light, drinking in the site of each other hungrily.

Geralt had found Andromeda.

Andromeda had found Geralt.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Detective Haelyn Rózsa

Name: Haelyn "Lyn" Rózsa

Meaning(s): Gift from God/Honorable/Love & Protection (Haelyn) and Rose (Rózsa)

Face Claim: Kelsey Merritt

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday/Zodiac: November 18 (Scorpio)

Love Interest: Trystan Thorne

Family:

NOTE: I know I promised to follow the actual CoP MC's background and be normal but ofc I found a way to unnecessarily connect characters and bring back old MC and OCs I didn't use so enjoy imao

Distant Maternal Great Grandmother: Raine Nightbloom Distant Maternal Great Grandfather: Tyril Starfury Distant Maternal Grandmother: Eclipse Sarenya Nightfury

Maternal Grandfather: Beckham D'Souza Maternal Grandmother: Londyn Wolfe (Pia Wurtzbach-Jauncey) Mother: Diamond Wolfe Maternal Uncle: Nasriyan Wolfe Paternal Great Grandmother: Vanadey Silva (Warrior Nun) Father: Jacques Rózsa Paternal Uncle: Thomas Rózsa

Goddaughter: Cirilla Watanabe-Webster

Pet: Paris (Former Stray Dog)

Quick Background: (subject to change)

Diamond and her younger brother Nasriyan were raised in a life of crime. She's part of the largest and wealthiest American mafia crime families and, of course, despises any kind of law enforcement.

One day, she accidentally bumped into a man while waiting in line to get coffee at a cafe, where she was supposed to meet a contact. The man she bumped into would be Jacques Rózsa, who would later be revealed as a new police officer. That same night, she met him again at the same bar, and it felt like fate.

They spent more time together in secret to avoid her family's prying eyes, and eventually fell deeply in love with each other. Diamond felt super conflicted because interacting with Jacques clashed with the beliefs she was raised with, but she admired how genuine Jacques felt about wanting to help others. She eventually eloped with him, had a small wedding with only a few trusted guests, and moved back to his hometown in New York. Here, they opened The Drunk Tank and stayed under the radar.

Keep in mind, that Jacques still wasn't aware that his wife was part of a crime family he had been assigned to arrest. The case always fascinated him but has been unsolved largely due to their influence and power within higher-ranking officials. He became extremely passionate about the case and was determined to be the officer to solve it. Somewhere along the line, they had Haelyn and they were all super happy.

But then, Diamond's brother Nasriyan finds out they're in New York, and they have an ultimatum: do certain tasks for the family (she isn't officially registered on any wanted lists) and he'll turn a blind eye. So she did these tasks and slowly got back into the life of crime and violence she was happy to escape from.

Jacques eventually connects the dots and confronts Diamond's parents without knowing they're related. He knows the Wolfe leaders had a daughter, but she didn't seem relevant as she either died or ran away. He ends up having to kill the parents, but her younger brother escapes and lives on the run. Now, the whole Wolfe family is in shambles. Diamond realizes she could never live a content idyllic life and leaves her husband and daughter to go back. She couldn't bear to tell Jacques she had lied about her family history and left him a letter saying that she had to prioritize her duty etc. Jacques and Thomas were both heartbroken and lied to Haelyn so she wouldn't have to feel any guilt.

Haelyn lives a relatively normal life until her dad was killed when she was 13 supposedly by her own uncle, revealing Diamond's darkest secret in Jacques's last moments. Diamond eventually finds him and sends him to some confinement where he cannot escape. When she returns in Book 3, she and her daughter work together to track down Jacques's killer

Romance Route: (subject to change)

A) Book 1 and Book 2 Events B) Trystan is coronated and does not abdicate the throne. This means he is still temporarily engaged to Princess Jia; Haelyn felt the wisest decision would be to break up before the situation gets messy a lil too late but okay C) A crime happens (ex. someone stole royal jewels) and he hires the best private detective he knows and trusts to solve the case D) She solves the case and heads back as quickly as she can because it hurts being around someone she would never be able to be with. When she gets back, her mother reappears and sets off the Book 3 plot of finding the truth about Haelyn's father's death E) Trystan hears about this through Luke and Ruby and flies out immediately (Marguerite joins in later). He says he has business to attend to in America and says he'll be back in time for engagement planning F) They solve the case and Trystan heads back, inviting the whole gang to the engagement. At the last minute, like what happens in the Book 2 finale, he reveals his true feelings and abdicates the throne. Princess Jia didn't want to be married and Trystan wasn't interested in their arranged marriage or the Drakovian throne so it was a win-win situation G) They all live happily ever after THE END

Trivia:

She's never been in a romantic relationship. Ever. She's been interested in people before but she's never officially dated since she was super busy and not the best at initiating/maintaining close long-term relationships. Trystan was her first boyfriend and last boyfriend

She is fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, and eventually proficient in Drakovian and Filipino

She’s left handed and sketches in her free time, or whenever he’s having trouble solving a case

Haelyn Rózsa's Dossier (made by @storyofmychoices!)

[icefrye19]

Dancing Of Flames (Emhyr x Oc, Cahir x Ciri)

Prologue II

In the main hall, the Royal family was dining with the Northern houses, loud chatter spread throughout the room. Valerievna was sitting down next to Cirilla; her grandparents sat on the opposite side of them.

People were dancing on the floor with one another, loud cheers and laughter ranged out. Valerievna lifted her goblet to her mouth, taking a sip of her wine, while watching the people interact.

" I saw the Wraiths of Morhogg over the channel this

morning." Her grandfather said.

Valerievna and Cirilla gazed at one another lost at what he was talking about.

" Yes, you mentioned." Calanthe said.

" Who?" Cirilla inquired.

" They're talking about the Wild Hunt." The young Dragon answered. " They're a group of elves that are like undead but not really alive, they're one of the most elite fighting groups in the Continent."

" I see someone has been doing this research." Mousesack said, proudly.

" Wait, so basically these soldiers they're like monsters." The young Lion Cub questioned.

" No one knows." She answered. " But legends says they are ghosts of death."

" Really." Cirilla whispered.

Valerievna nodded. " Yes, some says they have the body of a human, but the spirit of death washes over them."

" No good will come of it." Eist warned. " They're an omen of War."

" The North has been at war since Nifgaard took Ebbing." Calanthe said.

" If the legend is true, the Wild Hunt's years behind the curve." She added."

" The Nifgaardian force crossed the Amell Pass." Eist said.

The Queen grinned. " Headed to Sodden, if they're smart. And if not, 50 of your Skellige ships are on the way."

" We have more knights... We are prepared in case..." before Calanthe could finish her sentence, she was cut off by Valerievna and Cirilla.

" Prepared for what?" Cirilla asked.

Valerievna gazed at her grandmother deeply, seeing the stone look on her face. " Are we at war with Nifgaard?" She asked.

" Of course not, Princess." Moussemack lied.

" Nothing for you to be concerned about." Calanthe answered.

" Your dismissive tone says it is." Cirilla commented.

Valerievna scoffed. " If there's nothing to be concerned about then why did you send for Skellige ships?"

Calanthe signed. " As I've said there is nothing for you two to worry about, please do not start."

Eist shook his head. " We're talking of war, girls."

" With Nilfgaard?" The young Lion Cub exclaimed.

" Why?" The young Dragon inquired. " What do they want?"

Calanthe turned to her husband, glaring at him coldly. " Eist!

" Should we fall to Niffgaerd, your granddaughters will rule Cintea and Dragonyra one day."

" My Uncle is the ruler of Dragonrya, he turned the people against my father. I doubt they will accept me back." Valerievna mumbled.

" They haven't turned against you, sweet girl." Eist said. "They have however turned against your Uncle, riots have sprawled out on the streets."

Valerievna's eyes widened in surprise. " Where did you hear this from?"

" There are many whispers going around about your Uncle, he is slowly becoming unstable and mad."Mousesack said.

" That is not a surprise, that man has always been unstable." The Queen mumbled.

" Most of the Lords and Mages have started to turn against him; they wish for their rightful Empress back." The mage added.

" This is great, Valerievna actually has a chance at gaining her kingdom back." Cirilla said, placing a hand on her cousin's back.

However, Valerievna still wasn't convinced she had what it took to be Empress. She wasn't good at public speaking, let alone politics. It had been years since she had been home, the people had probably long forgotten about her.

She wasn't meant to rule, her stillborn little brother should've been King. The Draconian Lords would never except for a woman on the Draconian Throne, her Aunt was an example of that when her grandfather had declined her succession claim despite being the eldest of his children.

Eist nodded. " Yes, all she needs is the armies to back her up."

" Luckily, your aunt Visenya has one." He added.

" My Aunt Visenya lives." Valerievna said, tears beginning to well in her eyes. " And, she's safe."

" Yes, Princess, she is safe in Aretuza." The dune answered.

" Yes, hiding out like a coward." Calanthe scoffed.

Valerievna turned to her grandmother, not liking how she was referring to her aunt like that . " She's not a coward."

The Lioness chuckled. " She is my sweet girl." She has a dragon, a powerful army and a navy, she could travel to Cintra and help you take back Dragonyra, but she would rather help those mages instead of her own niece."

" So, why does Nifaagard want Cintra anyway?" She asked, changing the subject.

" I don't know." Eist lied. " Ask your grandmother."

" Eist, that is enough small talk." Calanthe hissed.

" They need to understand the way of things in case we do fall."

" We will not fall because we are not attacked." The Lioness said. " For god sakes, they're children."

" You won your first battle when you were our age." Cirilla pointed out.

" I've heard the ballads." She added.

" Pretty ballads hide bastard truths." The King mumbled.

" It's a catchy song." The young Lion Cub commented.

" Three thousand of my name died." Calanthe said, turning to her granddaughters. " If we must do this now, here are your girl's first lesson."

" As in life, it is impossible to always be fully prepared for battle. Keep your sword close and keep moving." She added.

The song came to an end, a Northern Lord and his two sons came towards them, bowing in respect.

" Your Majesties." The Northern Lord spoke up. " Thank you for allowing our company to do this splendid affair."

The young boys greeted the King and Queen with a bow. " Your Majesties." They said, before turning their gaze over to the Princess's

" Would you honor us with his dance?" They asked.

Valerievna and Cirilla gazed at one another, before turning back to the boys. " Um, Martin...... Asmund we really." They were about to say, until their grandmother cut them off.

" They loved to ." Calanthe said, with a smile.

She turned to her granddaughter glancing at them with a pointed look not to be rude.

Knowing their grandmother was serious, Valerievna and Cirilla got up from their seats making their way on the floor with the boys, and started to dance with them.

Once the dance started, Asmund took the lead holding his hand at her waist gently leading her through it. The two started to dance slowly with one another, Asmund spun her around catching her in his arms.

" You look beautiful tonight, Princess." Asmund complimented.

" Thank you, you look very handsome yourself." Valerievna responded.

" You're nearly a woman of age." He said.

She nodded. " Yes, as I have been told."

" Many Lords desire to have your hand in marriage Asmund said, twirling her around.

Valerievna felt her heart stop for a moment, but keep her smile plastered on her face. " Like who, my Lord."

" Like me." He said. " I mean if you and I were to be bonded together we would build the most powerful alliance between our two houses."

" And your dragons would be most welcomed." He added. " I know you are kind of desperate to get your kingdom back, I can help you."

Valerievna almost wanted to scoff at the boy's words, how dare he presume to think she was a beggar Princess. " Desperate, you think I am so begged on the street." She hissed.

" No ... of course not I... I wasn't- didn't mean any harm Princess." The boy rambled out.

" Let's get something straight Lord Asumund, I am not some brooding mare for any man to use about." She whispered. " I am Valerievna Adalia Visenya Malfyre of House Malfyre, Blood of the Dragon and I will take back what is mine with Fire and Strength, I will take it." She hissed. " And, I need neither you nor any man to help me take my kingdom."

She pulled away from him. " Thank you for this dance, Lord Asmund, I think it's time I retire for the night."

With that, Valerievna walked out to the hall leaving Lord Asmuel stunned. She made her way outside and stepped in the moonlit corridors. Her mind began to race back to her kingdom, her home she longed to reclaim. Would they accept her back, what if they hated her.

Was it worth it thousands dying all due to her wants? It was selfish, a good ruler always put their people first, she couldn't risk anyone else dying because of her.

Maybe not now, but one day she will return to Dragonyra and when she does she will reign hell fire on her Uncle.The path she seeked was uncleared for Destiny would intervened in her plans, and the young Dragon would do anything to escape it; but only find no matter how far she ran it would catch up to her eventually.

━━━━━━━༺ - ༻━━━━━━━

[pomefiore-visitor]

note:

1. this is of Netflix!Jaskier and Radovid, not any other source. I definitely want to write for Book!Dandelion or Game!Dandelion eventually. But this is not that fic lol

2. i actually might make this into a fully fleshed out fic, just because i really liked this concept. i am not very into piss at all, so i went in a little blind writing for the kink. I would love some feedback on this <3.

FtM Radovid/Jaskier urophilia ficlet cw for piss (of course)

i do not consent to minor interaction, minors dni

Radovid was good at ignoring the signs his body would throw at him.

So good, in fact, that he would get stuck with the itching, crawling urge to piss. He ignored his desires in favor of addressing his court, playing house while his brother was away.

Of course the need to urinate was always on the back of his mind.

The young prince limped through lavish hallways, heels of his shoes clicking unevenly against beautiful marble floors, and yet still did not yield. “I’ll go after talking to Dandelion.” He promised to himself as his knees tightened waiting for the bard to arrive. Figures of importance came in and out, a stream of arrogant, pompous royalty that Radovid could not be bothered to entertain because Jaskier was still yet to arrive God damn it.

And yet he still did not yield. He would flash a smile and rub his hands down the front of his plush breeches, fingers digging into the fabric there. He was much too stubborn to go. Much too stubborn to miss his bards arrival as they discussed the fate of the lion cub of Cintra.

Pressure built in his abdomen like boiling water in a black kettle, and for the first time in several hours — Radovid yielded. He stepped out of the room and ran into a stuttered sprint towards the chamber pot. The young prince was full to bursting — piss dribbling out of his cunt and down his thighs, hardly noticeable on the outside of his clothes. It was almost as though Radovid could feel his urethra flutter with every movement, the weight of each step inched his bladder closer to release. Pebbles of pressure on his lower abdomen strung a cord tight, ready to coil and break at any moment as he made a beeline towards sweet release.

And then he walks straight first into Jaskier.

That is the incident that triggers a chain reaction. Walking smack first into his chest was the pair of shears that cut the taut wire. A beautiful, caring, and fiercely loyal pair of shears (not a spoon or a hammer, he was a proper pair thank you very much) — but shears all the same. Radovid grips onto the sleeves of Dandelion’s doublet like a vice, hot piss streaming down his legs. It’s painful, and the feeling of relief comes in bursts as Radovid whimpers against the bard’s chest (who was now cooing and comforting the prince by rubbing circles into his back, clearly unfazed by the humiliating display). It ruins the fine fabric of his clothes; expensive, handmade material soiled by the sticky stream of the prince’s urine.

As Radovid finishes pissing he sobs, finally relieved from stringing that line all day. He catches his breath, the acrid smell of urine in crushed velvet making his nostrils flair.

“You ought to take better care of yourself, Prince.” Jaskier begins above him, still holding him in his arms where Radovid slumped against his chest.

But he does not listen as Jaskier tangents off into how he will have to cover for the prince and bring him back to his chambers, how he should have been taking better care of himself and to listen to the signs that your body is giving you, Spoiled Highness. But Radovid is dazed, Princess Cirilla didn’t matter to him, his toy court didn’t matter to him. He shifted his sticky, syrupy thighs together and gripped at the fabric at Jaskier’s lapels. He needed to get used to yielding.

[bardicious]

Okay, but you know what would have been SO good? If Ciri's nightmare/dream had Jaskier just playing in the background!

Like, Ciri wouldn't know Jaskier enough to really know him or his name, but enough to remember him as a fixture in one of her grandmother's banquets.

Then seeing him there after her dream, would remind her and she'd find herself curious to who he was and why she remembers him.

[wickedxlovely]

CIRILLA. ( THE ETHEREAL . )

❝ SHE WILL RISE . WITH A SPINE OF STEAL AND A ROAR LIKE THUNDER , SHE WILL RISE .

THE PAST.

❝ HE LOOKED AT ME AND SUDDENLY FLOWERS GREW IN MY CHEST ; They say the first day of summer brings the most light, the sun and the sky awake for the longest day of the year. It was on that day that Cirilla was born, a product of a love affair between Amara, the Seelie Queen, and a faerie of the Wild Hunt. A princess’ birth was meant to be celebrated, but fate that day had another plan. A curse befell the child and a great sickness overtook her. Amara was forced to give her only daughter away. She was exchanged with a changeling child—she going to live with mundane parents and a human child taking her place, growing up with loving fey parents in the Queen’s court. As she grew, her body became stronger, overcoming the sickness that plagued her as the years went by. She did not know her heritage, that she was faerie, that she was royal, but Cirilla knew she was different. It was not normal for a human to be unable to lie, to bring plants to life with just the touch of her fingertips, to drift into others’ dreams, to breathe in sunlight like it was air and life. It was not until a warlock discovered her and took her under their wing. She learned what she was—Faerie—and with the help of the warlock and their friends, she learned her magic, her nature and the supernatural around her. But the mundane world was no longer enough for her, she yearned for her people, to know more about where she came from. The day that she decided to live in Faerieland was the day that fate would come for her again. Faerie consumed her. She grew more distant from the outside world, her fey nature growing inside her like a poison, wicked and lovely. But there is always more than meets the eye. She was trapped, her mother making herself known, the truth revealed to her—she was to become queen one day. Amara would not let her daughter slip back to her old life, keeping her in Faerie to train her to become the next queen. Cruelty was both a beauty and terror of the Seelie Queen and Cirilla faced it alone, a decision by her own choosing, but one she could not escape. But in time, everyone meets their end and a new era begins—Amara died and Cirilla was to become the new queen.

THE PRESENT.

❝ OH SUMMER NIGHT, A SMILE OF LIGHT AS SHE SITS ON A SAPPHIRE THRONE ; But how the weight of a crown could changed her. In the last two years since she was anointed the Seelie Queen, she has grown distant from her family and friends, putting her kingdom before all. There are those within her own court that are unsure if she is fit to rule—she was raised by mundanes and is still so young for a fey. She has much to prove, to her own people and to those who could oppose her. Bringing the clave and other supernaturals into her realm by force was just the beginning of the queen’s true power…

THE HEADCANONS.

❝ SHE WAS OTHERWORLDLY AND VAGUELY THREATENING ;

Though her curse is broken, it left a signature on her body. The magic weakened her body and every once in a while, her body becomes frail and sick—it can last a few hours, a few days, and come ins and goes as it pleases. It often leaves her bedridden until it passes. Only a few, very close people know of it.

Her eyes change colour depending on her mood.

She is also referred to as the Summer Queen, being born on the summer solstice.

She will glamour things she does not want people to see.

Like other fae, she cannot lie.

She found an abandoned fae-bird while she was in the mundane world and adopted him; his name is Fuego ( he takes the form of a red-tailed hawk ). The bird never leaves his Queen’s side; he will fly around the room she is in or be perched nearby.

She rides a unicorn named Faramir.

THE CONNECTIONS.

❝ I AM SO MUCH MORE THAN ROYAL ;

hearts are wild creatures, our ribs our cages ( OPEN CONNECTION ) — her father is part of the Wild Hunt and had an affair with the former Seelie Queen ( Amara ); please see wc link for more info.

as different as the sun and moon ( EUDORA ) — her half-sister that she did not know existed until after some time coming to faerie or will discover; please see wc link for more info.

blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family ( ASTRA TALAIKKOLI , LEOPOLD WAYNE , ELENORA WAYNE & OPEN MOTHER-IN-LAW ) — the warlocks who took her in, trained her, helped her discover she was a faerie. over time they became more than mentors, more than friends, and finally her family. but now, a century after cutting ties with them, things have become complicated.

if I told you about the darkness inside of me would you still look at me like I’m the sun ( LEOPOLD WAYNE ) — ex-lover/best-friend/mentor. she went back home to faerieland to find her biological family, but in doing so she lost him.

love her soul, protect her heart ( SELENIA MARAIS , OPEN PERSONAL GUARDS ) — the queen’s guard; an innner circle of cirilla’s closet guards.

you’re a weapon and weapon’s don’t weep ( OPEN ADVISORS ) — seelies and other species with a title .

all part of the game ( DARCY CORTEZ , OPEN POTENTIAL ALLIES ) — she will offer you protection… for a price. these are people she has made dealings and promises to work with her in exchange for her shield, gifts, etc.

she wasn’t looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword ( KOSMO REYES ) — while the queen may know magic, she doesn’t know how to physically fight. this person is training how to fight with her body.

smile brighter, laugh louder, live better ( ASHLEY WILLIAMS , OPEN ) — friends.

the thunder upon our heads ( JULIAN RHODES , GABRIELLA DELACY , OPEN ) — rocky relationships.

fear her when she looks into a fire a smiles ( CASSIAN GRAVES, WAR SEO-YEON SEOK , OPEN ENEMIES ) — enemies she has made along the way.

THE TAGS.

interactions ; mirror ; musings ; headcanons ; self para ; answers ; tasks ; outfits .

( template & psd by goodvibesrph. )

[bloodofthefates]

x. continued from here with @witchered

Pride was not a virtue Ciri could afford. Her life and that of the entire continent hinged on the precariousness of her safety, made only possible by Geralt’s protection and of those they’d collected along that he trusted such as Jaskier and Renfri. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for all that had been sacrificed in her name, countless lives and loved ones already lost in the fight or what they would do in order to ensure she remained out of the hands of greedy kings who sought to manipulate and use her for her power but the one monster she’d never learned to face as Kaer Morhen was the green-eyed one that inhabited her now. She’d stormed off in a fit of unchanneled rage, fanned by perceived unfairness and Renfri’s angry taunts following her deep into the woods. She’d had half a mind to keep going with only her stubbornness to fuel her fire, but she would get cold or hungry first, possibly captured second and only Geralt’s worry was enough of a tether to reel her in again like thread wound up on a spool. Stepping out of the clearing with arms still crossed over her chest and features stoney in defiance, Ciri said nothing as she approached the steps of the cottage housing not only what she hoped was a cooler-headed Renfri but the reason they’d fought in the first place. Teryn. A girl, not unlike she had been when torn from her home in Cintra. She’d been taken by the very same men that sought to steal and control Ciri but unlike her potential for the chaos she could one day wield, Teryn was considered nothing more than an expendable experiment like the other girls taken from the safety of Aretuza right out from under Tissaia’s nose. She was only a novice, even more powerless than Ciri and unable to defend herself, at least she had that and yet she could not bring herself to sympathize or even pity the girl the way Geralt and the others did or how even Renfri doted on her.    Ciri takes his note, mechanically taking the seat at his side but stubbornly mindful of the larger gap she placed between them and far more than what was needed on the stone step. She refused to look at him at first, staring out at the line of trees she’d just come from and already her teeth grit together as soon as Geralt spoke and tried to reason with some part of her she was beginning to think she lacked entirely. Maybe she was the monster all along in this story after all. “She might do better if she wasn’t here. Why haven’t you sent her back to Aretuza? If she’s to be a mage then why hasn’t Yen or Tissaia come to collect her? She should be their problem… not mine.”

[griefprofiled]

' Courage is poorly housed that dwells in numbers; the lion never counts the herd that are about him, nor weighs how many flocks he has to scatter. '

Queen Calanthe, King Eist, & Princess Cirilla ft @griefprofiled

* PERSONALS DO NOT INTERACT

[thereviewbait]

The Witcher Review: GOT and Your Next Move

Is Witcher the new Game of Thrones? A question that has been going around the internet since the Netflix original series, The Witcher came out in 2019. This review, here, will answer this question and more. So, let's get started. Overview Adapted from The Witcher book series by Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski, the series follows the lives and journey of its three protagonists-- Geralt of Rivia (a witcher), Yennefer of Vengerberg (a witch), and Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Of the three, Geralt and Cirilla are linked by destiny and the law of surprise. The backdrop of The Witcher is set in a fictional landmass inspired by the medieval era known as "the Continent." Image Source: https://gph.is/g/a91WQ58

Consisting of 8 episodes, the series introduces the three protagonists, including their formative events leading to the present timeline and situation. Season 1 of the Netflix original series follows the events in the book series' first two installments-- The Last Wish and The Sword of Destiny, a couple of short story collections that merely introduce the characters. The main plot arc will most likely start in The Witcher season 2.

Review

Not just The Witcher

One thing that everyone who has watched The Witcher agrees on is how confusing the timeline of the series can be, which had the viewers scrambling for explanations of the second episode. The reason for this confusion is how the series follows the journey of the three protagonists simultaneously while also following the present timeline. However, this way of direction is what I loved the most about the show. Despite being based on the book series, the Netflix original series gives a 3-D perspective of the three characters involved as opposed to the fixed focus on Geralt in the books. 

Enhances the book plot Another thing to love about the series is how, despite certain deviations, the crux of the story has remained true to The Witcher book series. There are only a few book adaptations out there that have retained the essence of the original story, much less enhance it with key changes. 

 True to The Witcher book series

Now, Netflix had almost turned The Witcher into a movie (Thank the lord, they did not), but chose to go with a series. Even within the scope of the series, they could have chosen to start from the official first book, Blood of Elves, instead, the showrunner Lauren Schmidt Hissrich chose to follow the reading order of the book series. The approach and the fact that Andrzej Sapkowski was part of the creative team gives the show brownie points over other book adaptations and is a testament to why the Netflix series is so good. 

 Catchy tunes Image Source: https://tenor.com/be7WH.gif While we are at it, might I add just how catchy Jaskier's songs are?! Toss a coin to your witcher had me sing along with the bard and even refrain from immediately going to the next episode, skipping the credits (that is a feat as far as Netflix viewers are concerned). I don't know about you, but the rest of the songs in the Netflix original series had the same effect on me, as well.

Fitting casting This The Witcher review is incomplete without mentioning the great casting. As I read the book series, someone like Henry Cavill is what came to my head, and the book cover only drives the point to the head. Don't persecute me, but I strongly feel that Cavill is better suited to be Geralt than superman (truthfully, I never really liked him as the superman). Anya Chalotra embodies the essence of Yennefer like a second skin, and I can't wait to see more of her in The Witcher season 2. I am waiting for the moment when Cirilla and Yennefer interact (no, I am not pitching the two against one another. Or am I?)

Speaking of Cirilla, Freya Allan has done a wonderful job of expressing the princess's difficulty in trusting others after her great loss. The part where Cirilla was possessed was quite creepy in a series that showcases monstrous creatures. The lion cub of Cintra and Geralt of Rivia have met and now I want to know what is next in the Netflix original series.

 What Next?

If you have already finished watching the series, like most Netflix users, and are waiting for The Witcher season 2 to come out, I have news for you. Shooting for the second season was scheduled to have started early this year, with the next season coming out in 2021. With the current pandemic, the chances of a delay are high. Now, that is a long wait. Fortunately, I have got you covered with options for what you can do after finishing season one. 

Read The Witcher book series:

If you are adamant about exploring further about the world of The Witcher, then I recommend you to give the book series a try. Doing so would enrich your viewing experience when the next season comes out. Moreover, you will have the fun of comparing the book to the series. 

Watch similar movies or series:

Netflix is home to quite a few series that are similar to The Witcher like Viking and Merlin. Aside from these, Spartacus, Game of Thrones, and The Last Kingdom are some of the series you can watch.

The Hexer movie and series:

Before Netflix, the Polish had already adapted The Witcher book series into a movie and series, The Hexer.

Play the games:

The book series has a trilogy of video games that fans can play to continue to experience the world of The Witcher. These games are The Witcher, The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings, and The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt.   The Witcher vs Game of Thrones 

https://www.polygon.com/game-of-thrones/2019/5/19/18631713/game-of-thrones-prequel-new-show-cast-story-release-date-hbo

 So after The Witcher review, it is time to answer the question-- Is Witcher the new Game of Thrones? The short answer is not yet. With only one season out and another in production, it is quite early to consider The Witcher as a substitution for the widely popular Game of Thrones (GOT). However, both have similarities that cannot be denied. The two are adaptations of fantasy book series with a fictional medieval era-inspired setting. Another similarity is between Cirilla and Khaleesi; both are descendants of rulers who were despised by their subjects (for very different reasons). The Netflix original show even has an element of incest, however fleeting, like GOT. For now, we can only conclude that they are similar, but not quite.   So, what do you think of The Witcher? Which of the four options above are you going to try after finishing the first season? Let me know in the comments below!

[oadara]

Book Review: Sword of Destiny

“The sword of destiny has two blades; you are one of them”

If “The Last Wish” was an introduction to who is Geralt of Rivia, then “Sword of Destiny” is where we learn what is his true purpose. Throughout the short stories, we get to see Geralt being forced to make choices, even when he doesn’t want to. These choices eventually lead him down a path he has been reluctant to follow and yet had been destined to follow. It’s an interesting juxtaposition we see, between making choices and having a destiny as it seems that one would be the opposite of the other. The idea of destiny has a finality to it because it implies a lack of choice, however, if we considered that the choices, we make lead us to a destiny then there’s no loss of free will.

The short stories follow somewhat the same template as the short stories in The Last Wish, though they are more in-depth and focused. Their fairy tale connection is also less overt as it focuses more on Geralt himself and how he reacts and responds to the events surrounding him.

The first short story “The Bounds of Reason” finds Geralt finds hunting for dragons, the only problem is the Geralt of Rivia, monster hunter, doesn’t hunt or kill dragons. He sees them as intelligent creatures that unless they are causing purposeful harm to others, he sees no reason to hunt them. Throughout his adventure, he meets an array of characters most of which wish to hunt the dragon, some of which might not. However, no matter who he meets and what happens Geralt does not waver from his beliefs and in the end is rewarded with an amazing surprise.

In “A Shard of Ice” we see Geralt and Yennefer together as a couple. Their relationship is very interesting, they for on/off because of different circumstances some of which are their own insecurities being who they are. What I love the most about the two of them is that they have a genuine love for each other that is not based on their physical form or their professions. Geralt knows the Yennefer use to be a hunchback and Yennefer knows that Geralt has been mutated by his training as a Witcher, yet she will not allow for anyone, even Geralt himself, to dehumanize him because of that. Likewise, Geralt holds Yen in the highest of estimations. He doesn’t care what she looks like or what potions she uses to make herself look younger and more beautiful; he loves Yen for who she is.

Following the theme of “less than human,” we have the short story the “Eternal Flame”. In the story, we explore the difficulty in surviving a world we you are not like everyone else. Given his experiences and who he is Geralt understand this more than anyone. He doesn’t always recognize it at first but in his wise way, he learns from his experiences. We also get to see more interactions between Geralt and his BFF 4-evah Dandelion. This story evaluates something that’s very prominent throughout the series which is discrimination. There’s a lot of exploration of discrimination and otherness throughout the series and it’s done in a way that it doesn’t come out as preachy, it’s a real issue in this world and our own and it’s something that needs to be exposed.

Next, we get to experience some mermaid action in Geralt’s next adventure in “A Little Sacrifice”. Geralt is accompanied once again by his friend Dandelion. Like all their adventure together nothing goes as planned but a few things happen along the way. Geralt realizes what loving someone truly means, you can’t just sacrifice a little if you love someone, you must be willing to sacrifice everything and this I think is an important lesson that will come into play later in the series.

In “The Sword of Destiny” we are finally introduced to Princess Cirilla of Cintra, aka Ciri. I’ve been anticipating her introduction as I know she plays a very important role in the main series. I very much enjoyed her interactions with Geralt. They do not get off on the right foot yet by the end you could see the bond forming between them, even if Geralt was not ready to embrace the bond by the end of this short story.  

Finally, in “Something More” we see Geralt’s adventures and travels come to a head when he’s accepts that destiny can mean many things, not just death. Geralt was fond of saying that the only thing that was destined was death, yet he learns that there’s more to it than that. You can just carve a path straight to death, life happens, choices happen, and these things can’t always be predicted. The final scene is an absolute tearjerker and I loved it.

Overall, I enjoyed this book tremendously. Getting to know the characters better and meeting new characters and seeing how they grow both as individuals but also in their bonds to one another was a real treat. The stories were entertaining but meaningful and they made you care which is what any good story should do.

Overall score 5/5 stars

[fortunainfiniitus-a-blog]

Princess Pavetta - Verses

THE WITCHER

Pavetta Elen Riannon of Cintra, born to Queen Calanthe - the Lioness of Cintra, and King Roegner. Carrier of the Elder Blood gene, The Source. Wife to Prince Duny, known later as Emhyr van\r Emrais and daughter of Cirilla, the Lion Cub of Cintra. 

She died out at sea, protecting her daughter. 

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Daughter of Lioness Calanthe, lady of Cintra, one of the northern holds that pledged loyalty to Starks, Pavetta grew up close to the Stark children, especially Sansa, with her mother being a good friend to both Cately and Eddard Stark. She married Duny at a very young age, and was lost at sea, traveling with her husband to his home island. 

BY LIKING THE POST YOU EXPRESS WILLINGNESS TO INTERACT WITH THE CHARACTER.

[beeftony]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Cerys an Craite Characters: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Cerys an Craite Summary:

Ciri returns to the Skellige Isles to catch up with old friends and stay out of Nilfgaard's reach. But she's not the only one who's come back.

Preview

Winter had come to Ard Skellig, and that meant one thing: ice skating. The youth of the various Skellige clans were expected to master water in solid form as well as liquid, and flitted about on their little skates practically from the time they could walk.

“Ow! Freya’s ploughin’ tits, that hurt!”

Some were better at it than others.

“Mind yer tongue Hjalmar, or I’ll cut it out and serve it to ye for dinner!”

“And stop skatin’ like a baboon.” Cerys an Craite, standing over her brother, extended her hand to help him up. He swatted it aside, and slipped a couple more times before standing on his own.

“What’s a baboon?” he asked. “And where’d you hear about it?”

“From me!”

A young, ashen haired girl with vibrant green eyes and an enchanting smile skated by them, then doubled back and halted herself right next to them. “We’ve been learning all about animals from Uncle Ermion. Baboons are native to Zerrikania, and they live in little tribes just like people. They have fur everywhere but their arse, and their arses are red just like yours right now!”

Hjalmar tried to lunge at her, but fell hard as she skated casually out of the way, almost splitting his chin. “Ow!”

Unable to control herself, Cerys started laughing. “Good one, Ciri!”

Ciri flashed her a smile, then started skating circles around them. She sighed and helped Hjalmar to his feet once more. “You alright, ya big oaf?”

“Ah, nothin’ to worry about,” he said, his eyes tracking Ciri as she moved further off, skating like she was born for it. “I’m gonna marry her someday, you know.”

“That right? You marryin’ a princess, that’ll be the day!”

He crossed his arms. “Fine, don’t believe me. But a girl that perfect… well, why bother chasin’ any others?”

“Because you’ll never catch up with her, dimwit!”

“Wanna bet? I’ll race you for it!”

“I’m not as fast as her either, but if ye wanna lose that bad…”

“To the far end of the lake!” he declared, pointing out a spot some hundred meters away. “On your mark, get set, go!”

Author’s Notes: I'm hoping to have the next Smoke and Mirrors update ready by next week, but in the meantime here's a project I've had on the back burner for the last few months. Skellige doesn't feature heavily into my other story, so I wanted to write one where it was the focus. Also Ciri/Cerys is a great ship and I wish they'd gotten the opportunity to interact in the game.

I've taken some liberties with the backstory here. Given that Cerys was invented specifically for the third game, she wasn't integrated all that congruently into Ciri's history in Skellige. Though it's possible they just didn't have time for that.

My new update policy is that if I have something ready on Sunday, I'll post it on Sunday. If it's ready at any other point of the week, I'll wait until the next Sunday and post it then. Hopefully this works better than updating in set intervals, which caused me enough stress that I had to take a break from writing for the last three months.Please let me know what you think.

[fangirlshrewt97]

The Witcher Fic - Give Me One More Chance (Part 3)

Author: Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: The Witcher (TV Series)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier|Dandelion, Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer of Vengerburg, Geralt of Rivia & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Jaskier|Dandelion & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier|Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Yennefer of Vengerburg, Roach

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up (Swearing, Mild Gore)

Warnings: None Apply

Additional Tags: Post Episode S01E06: Rare Species, Emotionally Constipated Geralt of Rivia, Pining, Touch-Starved Geralt of Rivia, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt & Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Levels of Violence, Monsters, I really put Geralt through the wringer here, but I am ok with that because poor Jaskier did not deserve it, I do acknowledge though that Geralt is multiple levels of screwed up and maybe thought he was helping them both when he was actually hurting them

Summary: After the dragon hunt, Geralt tries to cope with his actions. And misses Jaskier a lot. But refuses to deal with his feeling even when it almost kills him.

Alternate title: 5 things Geralt misses about Jaskier + 1 he didn’t need to

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389734

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

                                                               *****

Geralt did not have much time to ponder on his own cursed luck after the incident with the shapeshifter. Mere weeks later, he was in Cintra as it fell, and days later, he found his Child Surprise. He made a promise to himself as he was riding to Cintra that he would just protect her and then return her to her family after the danger had passed. But having seen the corpse of Queen Calanthe, and held Ciri’s small form against him, he knew he had a new purpose now.

Still, Ciri was a child, a princess who grew up wanting for nothing, and now she was all alone in the world stuck with a stranger destiny has assigned her. She screamed herself awake the first few nights, and Geralt did not know what to do but hold her when she sought comfort from his touch.

It had been a long time since Geralt had ever had to properly care for another human being, and he had never truly had anyone who looks to him for comfort. The last kind touch he had had, he had to pay coin for. He could hardly learn lessons on childcare based on his interactions at a brothel anyways.

He held her in his arms, ran his fingers through her hair. Those get her to stop shaking. Sometimes, he rumbled, noticing that she tucked herself closer to the vibrations. He knew a few of the lullabies and songs Jaskier had used to help comfort children they sometimes had to rescue from monster, but that was not an option. He remembered every lyric though, he just couldn't bring himself to sing Jaskier's words. His lark had never been quiet for long, and even when his scent had long faded from the memento Geralt still had inside his tunic, his melodies were forever imprinted onto Geralt’s brain. He hummed a few of the easier shanties under his breath. Ciri snuffled her nose and curled herself more tightly under his chin. After laying her out in her own bedroll, Geralt laid down nearby, still seeing the outline of her figure. The last time someone touched him to comfort him because they wanted to see if he was alright, because they genuinely cared, he payed them back by screaming that they were the cause of all his misfortunes. But each of them had led him to something invaluable had it not? He inevitably hurt all those he cared about, and the thought of somehow causing his newest charge any pain made Geralt want to vomit. His hands were made of killing not caring, how could anyone trust him to take care of such innocence?

Geralt was rarely selfish, but alone, in the dark with just the starts ad Ciri's sweet snores for company, he could admit to himself that he could no longer imagine life without Ciri. Or rather imagine it and not feel a void there. Same for Yennefer. They may not have parted with kind words, but she was still important to him, and she always would be.  

///

After almost getting accustomed to the feeling of travelling alone once again, Ciri was yet another change to the routine he had established decades ago. And a welcome one, but unpracticed. She was fierce and brave, but ultimately she was still raised in a palace, her hands still smooth and without callouses earned through work done with one’s own hands. He taught her how to gather firewood, how to find a water source, how to determine if it was clean. He spoke more with her than he could remember speaking to anyone, including -.

No. Geralt would not deny himself the truth anymore. Thinking about him still hurt. Didn’t mean he would accept the pain either. Just... ignore it.

Except, he didn’t expect it to hurt even more to not think of him. Ciri asked him about his connection to her, about their destiny and how it came to be. About Yennefer. About Witcher training. About Roach. About himself.

And he told her. He told her about starting when he was a mere child, about the trials being lethal, about brothers being killed because they were not strong enough to survive. But he also told her that they were not asked to participate in the trials until they felt ready.

He told her about the purple-eyed sorceress. About the stories that had started coming out of Sodden, about a fight for the chokehold, the Nilfgardian army against a small group of mages and sorceresses. They were in a rundown inn when they hear a rumor of a witch with purple eyes who defeated an army before vanishing into smoke. Ciri tries to distract him when his face grows shuttered.

///

He didn’t tell her about Jaskier. Not about his bright clothes and merry laughter, about his endless well of impossible tales that nonetheless always made the children of any town they visited laugh. He also kept quiet about how he misses Jaskier’s fearlessness regarding touching Geralt. That was not a conversation he was prepared to have with himself even. He didn’t tell about how good a friend he was to the Witcher, and above all, he didn’t breathe a word about the guilt that eats at him a little more each day for sending the bard away.

It must be visible on him somehow though, because Ciri always wore a knowing glint when he recounted a retelling of an adventure he shared with the bard that he carefully worded to completely extract him from the story.

He told dull stories.

///

They found Yennefer six weeks into their travels. Or rather she found them. They were camping when Roach neighs at the change in the air around them, and his medallion starts to vibrate. He gathers Ciri and his swords, gives her a dagger and tells her to run in case the fight turns ugly. She had just managed to hide behind a tree when the portal opens and Yennefer steps though, looking as radiant and terrifying as always.

“Is this how you always greet friends, Witcher?” Yennefer asked, deadpan.

Geralt scented her familiar smell of lilacs and gooseberries, but the shapeshifter had a hold of his thoughts again, and he pressed his sword’s tip into her throat until he nicks her chin. She lets him.

“Satisfied?”

Still wary, he nodded. He lowered his weapon.

Then, she surprised him. Her voice was filled with genuine regret as she informed him: “Geralt. I am so sorry. Princess Cirilla was killed during the fall of Cintra. I know she was your Child Surprise, and whatever your feelings might have been about that, she was far too young to die.”

Geralt blinked at her, before snorting.

“Your informants are wrong.”

It was Yennefer’s turn to blink. This was not quite the reaction she had been expecting.

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona! Come on out!” Geralt called out, voice just a bit louder than normal. Ciri came scrambling out of her hiding place, and plastered herself to Geralt’s side.

“Fiona, I want you to meet Yennefer of Vengerburg.” Geralt told Ciri. Then looking at Yennefer, with a far more amused twinkle in his eyes: “Yennefer, I want you to meet Fiona.”

When Yen just stared he added “Also called Princess Cirilla, the Lion Cub of Cintra.”

Yennefer’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped slightly open. But she being who she was, recovers quickly and bowed and held out a hand for the young girl. Ciri squinted at her suspiciously before hesitantly extending her own hand.

“Pleasure to meet you Princess.” Yennefer adds, voice warmer than Geralt has ever heard it. Her whole countenance was softer than he remembered.

Ciri smiled, a sight that still instilled a warmth in Geralt’s core.

“Pleasure to meet you Yennefer.”

At that time, Ciri’s stomach let out a loud growl, causing her to turn pink.

“I’m so sorry!” Ciri says embarrassed.

Yennefer laughed. “What do you say I make a meal for a change? Neither a Witcher or a songbird can ever be counted on to whip up anything anyone can actually call enjoyable food. It’s all cooked enough to not be chalk or stone.”

She did not notice Geralt stiffen. Or Ciri perk up.

The excitement in her voice felt like a blade to Geralt’s heart. “Songbird? What songbird? Geralt you had a pet?”

Yennefer pauseed, frowning confusedly between them before she looks around the campground.

“Where is your songbird shadow Geralt?” Yennefer asked.

Geralt would swear his teeth were being grinded to dust in his mouth.

“Not with me anymore.”

“Geralt!” Ciri whined.

He makes the mistake of glancing at her and being caught in her doe-like gaze, stripped to his core and made to feel ashamed.

“Ciri drop it!” Geralt growled. She jumped away from him, abruptly leaving him feeling unbalanced. She looked close to tears.

“Yennefer, watch her. I am going to get us some food.” Geralt rumbled before grabbing his steel sword and dagger, and disappearing into the forest.

As he walked into the forest, he feels the dagger Ciri unintentionally embedded in his chest pierce deeper. He had not noticed until she pointed it out, but the world did seem to be getting duller.

///

The girls were resting inside Yennefer’s magic tent, on a comfortable feather bed surrounded by warmth and furs. Geralt laid outside the tent opening on his bedroll, the fabric just barely hiding the discomfort of the pebbles beneath him. He has stripped his armor, and a ways away, loosely tied to a tree, Roach was resting. He could faintly make out Yen and Ciri’s heartbeats from inside the tent.

He was tired. He has been pushing himself harder than probably advisable, even for a Witcher, but honestly, his thinking has been compromised and all his instincts were screaming at him to get his Child Surprise home to Kaer Morhen.  

He told himself the cold he felt was because of the oncoming winter, and not the small loss of Ciri inside the tent instead of beside him. He had not realized how much he missed the presence of another person in his camp until he was all alone. That what he was missing wasn't the fur cloak he had given to Ciri to protect against the bitter cold, and not the other human who used to steal the very same coat and stick his cold nose into Geralt’s bedroll when he allowed it.

///

Yennefer declared she would travel with them for a while as they made their way northward toward Kaer Morhen. Geralt believeed her but also knows that Yennefer would not stay long. She was too used to luxury for life on the road. After the first two days, Ciri warmed immensely to Yennefer, happy for another female presence after only Geralt. And one who could talk in more than grunts and stilted sentences.

It was as he was coming back from one of his hunts that he heard them talking and decided to hide when he heard his name being mentioned.

“What was that?” Yennefer asked from where she was reading a book and adding something to a pot.

“What was the songbird?”

“Songbird?”

“When you first joined us. You asked Geralt where his songbird was. And he yelled at me?”

“Oh Ciri I don’t-”

“Please Yennefer.”

Yennefer sighed.

“There was a bard before you joined Geralt. Jaskier.”

“Jaskier? That name sounds familiar.”

“Have you heard the song ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’?”

“Yes! I loved that song. Back in Cintra, this bard used to come, his name was Dandelion. He would always sing that song for me, but never in front of Grandmother. She did not like that song at all.”

“Figures.”

“What?”

“Jaskier was the bard who wrote that song. He was a good friend of Geralt’s. I guess he was the reason we met.”

“Oh?”

“Jaskier- He was injured. A Djinn attacked him. Geralt brought him to me to be healed.”

“You were friends then?”

“I wouldn’t say friends. The bard was annoying, and could not shut up. He would get involved with everyone, did not know what discretion meant. Had no sense of self-preservation.” Yennefer paused. Then she smiled sadly. “But he wasn’t all bad. He was kind. For all his insults and pettiness, Jaskier never did anything to hurt. He was loyal. To Geralt above everything.”

“He was Geralt’s friend?”

“Bestest friend in the whole world if I remember correctly.” Yennefer's voice was almost nostalgic.

“What happened?” Ciri asked, before her voice lowered to a whisper Geralt had to strain to hear. “Did he die?”

“I- I don’t know Ciri. The bastard had terrible luck of always getting into life-threatening situations, but he also had a gift to talk himself out of nearly anything.”

“Then why isn’t he with Geralt?” Ciri asked, endearingly earnest in her curiosity.

“You are going to have to take it up with him. Now come on. This stew is almost done. Help me finish up and we can cook whatever Geralt brings back.”

Ciri thankfully dropped the subject. Geralt waited another minute before making himself walk noisily back to camp.

///

They were walking through a small town in Aerdinn, just like all the other small towns they had walked through in their journey. Completely unremarkable. But it was the first town they have come across in nearly a week without even a hint of war in the air. The population was made primarily of farmers and peasants, and though a few glanced at the peculiar group, no one stopped them. They made their way through town, and were planning on leaving after dinner when Ciri heard the sound of music coming from a tavern close by. Before either he or Yennefer could stop her, she split off from them and entered the building.

Geralt ran into the tavern behind her. The place was crowded, raucous. Ciri’s eyes were glowing, and she was practically vibrating with excitement. Yennefer came in behind him, face twisting when a couple of drunk locals bumped into her on their way out. But Geralt did not notice any of this. No. His eyes were on the troubador playing music for the crowd.

His doublet was a light green, just shiny enough to reflect the candlelight in the room. He was singing at the top of his voice, his feet leading the beat the villagers accompanied. His hair was longer, and his face had more wrinkles. His voice was more hollow that Geralt has ever heard it, despite the cheer the bard projected. Yet there he was.

His songbird. His little lark.

His Jaskier.

“Dandelion!”

The world seemed to freeze around them as electric blue eyes met ancient amber.

[banardboy]

tag drop 1

[bloodofthefates]

“People care about you, too, you know.” @ ciri.

“Well maybe they shouldn’t. It only gets them killed.” Cirilla was quick to fire off a comeback, as she was usually prone to do but she was still facing away from Jaskier even as he tried so desperately to grasp at any semblance of a connection to her. Selfish and immature, Ciri could practically hear Geralt’s voice in her head dismissing her childish behavior, arms flexed and tightening crossed over her chest as the two sides warring against each other inside of her mind only angered her more. She knew better; knew how to be better but was making the conscious choice to revert back to her past defensive behaviors of shutting down altogether. Trusting no one and bearing the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. Alone. It was a wall Geralt had been cracking away at since he’d first met her in the forest that day and a mission others had taken up along the way as well to become family to her. It terrified her more than anything, to have lost so much so early in life and fear for the same outcome that haunted her in nightmares even in the waking world. “People only care about me because of Geralt. Because of destiny or whatever, who my parents or my grandmother were. People don’t really care about me because I’m me. Can you tell me I’m wrong?”