#Lillie of Temeria

[starsandskies]

Lillie of Temeria and Emhyr var Emreis for @briarfox13.

Thank you so much for commissioning me! It’s been a pleasure as always! 💖

[briarfox13]

I meant to post this ages ago but brain forgot XD

The amazing @effelants got me this wonderful Lillie portrait and I'm honestly in love 😍

Thank you @vjatoch for painting my darling, she's beautiful! You're amazing and awesome ❤️

[definitely-not-iorveth]

Ok take your pick:

The meaning of it all

Crossing

The leaves only block some stars

Bruised lilies

yes i pick

all of them

thank you

ok so this is now a multichapter fic.

the leaves only block some stars: title of the fic. it's about roche figuring out his life after temeria becomes nilfgaard's vassal & iorveth trying to build something new once vergen falls.

bruised lilies: a reflection on the current state of things. iorveth's pov: lillies, bruised and crumpled, but still alive. despite the hardships of war, beautiful things can still grow. ruins need not stay so. on the foundation of the old, something new can be built. but first, the threat of nilfgaard needs to be dealt with. him and saskia are roaming around, sabotaging nilfgaard where they can and aiding any resistance cells they come across. roche's pov: temeria is now nilfgaard's vassal state, forced into submission despite emhyr's promises. anais is a figurehead, and the true power lirs in the hands of a nilfgaardian council. but at least the country still exists, unlike the other northern nations. they may rise up, yes, but they will never be the same. but temeria, oh, temeria, even bruised, can still rise up and regain its rightful place as one of north's primary nations. maybe it can even emerge as a leader of a newly formed northern coalition. for now, though he has to play the part of emhyr's loyal dog, because the emperor has made it clear that anais, while useful, is nowhere near necessary.

crossing: iorveth and roche cross paths again. they are both ambushing a diplomatic delegation or somesuch (at a crossing bc i am a big fan of using both a literal and a metaphorical meaning) that's about to sign an important treaty, cement some kind of an alliance, something along these lines, carrying documents or something that would be valuable to both sides. (i will figure it out once i am actually writing the fic OOP WHO SAID THAT) they end up reluctantly allying and working against emhyr. at some point they fake roche's death for extra funsies. anyway, through the course of the story, him and iorveth go from reluctant allies, to respected comrades in arms, to lovers. i am pretty sure i will need some more chapters here, actually, to flesh out both the romantic and the political storyline.

the meaning of it all: the political subplot comes to a conclusion, perhaps with emhyr getting assassinated, perhaps with a last battle of a new war, perhaps both. iorveth and roche both aided in planting a seed of something new. temeria is free. pontar valley exists again. it is time to rebuild. but that is not something either of them is suited for, all they know is the fight. they are relics of the past, and there is no place for them in the future. and roche is officially dead, and iorveth's hands are still stained with the blood of the families of people living in the pontar valley.

so instead, they build a new life together 💚

the end

ahhh this one was very fun. thank you for the opportunity to write this, i enjoyed it very much! 😊💚 i hope you enjoyed my silly ideas too 💚😘

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

[isaacathom]

the thing thats fun in the witcher game is we keep insisting that florian somehow has some temerian mark on him, like hes bearing the sigil of his home country, even though he has replaced every piece of gear he left temeria with except for the sword, which presumably doesnt bear the lillies at all

[thornaelle]

Saskia Shepard & Lillie of Temeria for @briarfox13!

[elizabethospeaks]

Completed commission for the lovely @briarfox13 of their Witcher OC Lillie! Thank you so much for all your continuing support! ❤

Betho’s Commissions | Ko-Fi

[hubr1s69]

@briarfox13‘s ethereal Lillie of Temeria!! thanks a lot for commissioning me!

[slothssassin-art]

Lille of Temeria and Ehyr var Emreis - the second (and big^^) gift for my dear @briarfox13 ♥ Again, happy birthday and I hope you had a wonderful time during the holidays!!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Yesssss A Witcher’s Champion!!!! Very excited for more of that deliciousness.

Would love to hear more about your Gaetan origin fic!

Yoo, I'm so glad you chose this one because it's inspired by the tone in your writing and that of @whyzowl. Not necessarily the content, but this kind of gritty rawness that doesn't shy away from the tough stuff? As a result, some content warnings are needed and absolutely no hard feelings for not clicking the read more: mention of addiction, creepy madame who has her eye on Gaetan as a future asset (clear intent to groom), child labour.

The story gets quite dark because I wanted to focus on the cat school collecting the most vulnerable and broken within society. I know there's a fair amount of sensitivity - and rightfully so - around this idea that the cat mutagens cause mental illness. So, I'm trying to be very careful to avoid demonising certain mental illnesses, while exploring what formative experiences could have shaped a man like Gaetan, who loses control in Honorton. It's hard and I'll need about five sensitivity readers before it's ready for posting. (None of the above in the snippet.)

—

"Your problem is costing me money," the Madame said icily, her long nails tapping on the polished surface of her desk. Gaetan watched her from behind Ma's skirts, admiring the glittering choker at her throat. She reminded him of the toads he chased at the sewer entrance. Sometimes, if he caught them, he would squish their big bellies gently to watch their eyes widen. He never hurt them, that he swore to his Ma. He weren't a monster. 

Ma wasn't well. She hadn't been since Gaetan could remember, and he had just seen his seventh summer. She had this special medicine, a white powder, that she stored in little pouches by her eye paint. It helped with the pain, which had to be getting worse, because Ma had been taking a lot more medicine recently. She cleared her throat, her voice reedy. "'M sorry, ma'am. I can take on more, I can."

"The boy," the madame turned her watery eyes down to Gaetan. "He can take on extra duties."

Ma sounded upset. "Ma'am, please–"

"He can work the kitchens, running drinks. If he proves himself to be reliable, then he can even collect the money from clients–" 

Ma seemed to relax a little. "Thank you, yes. He can do that."

"–and when there's a little hair around his cock, he can earn his money as we all do," the madame reached across her desk and pulled a small, ornate case towards her. The jewels encrusted in the bronze metal were as pretty as the ones around her neck, "get yourself under control. Or I'll put you both out on the streets."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank ye, ma'am."

—

Ma took her medicine more often. She needed it. Gaetan felt proud for being able to provide it for her. In the mornings, he scrubbed the kitchens until the skin on his hands had blistered from the harsh soap, and as the sun set and the halls filled with bodies and the smell of sweat, Gaetan weaved through the legs of patrons with drinks. 

The madame praised him. He was a good worker. Handsome little elf, she called him, not that he was anything like an elf. His ears were round for one, he checked in a mirror a couple of times to make sure. When she said it, she petted his hair that she liked him to tie behind his head; pretty little thing, they'll love you in a few years.

It was a night like any other night when it all started, the only difference being that the Lillies were in town. He recognised them from their uniforms; blue tunics with three silver symbols on the breast. Temeria's finest, the towncryer called them. Gaetan thought they smelled as bad as everyone else who visited. The madame had a stern word with their commander. "No violence, do you hear? Not like last time." She spoke through clenched teeth.

[justleaf]

My HC of Vernon Roche's Tattoos, in order of age.

Image credit: @tiffashy is the original artist of the torsos. I only have my mouse, willpower and 0 talent, so I had to search online for a pic of torsos and this was the only one that had the angles I wanted.

* * *

Put together for @kashuan. My headcannon is that he doesn't have that many because:

1. He spends a lot of time naked around the army and can't get anything that will either be viewed as too feminine or cause them to change their perception of him. 2. Honestly the man's got no downtime to get more anyway. 3. By the time he retired he was too like fukkit I'm a pussy I don't want to experience THAT much pain.

Temerian Shield and Sword

HE'S CAPTAIN TEMERIA HOW COULD HE NOT GET THIS.

He got this in the early years of his enlistment (I HC that he joined at 15 and is 33 in W2, primarily because I need his dick to work great when I write smut scenes.).

The work was done when he didn't know a thing about tattoos and the lines are bumpy, crooked and uneven. It's also healed poorly because he didn't have knowledge to properly heal a one (and also got angy with how itchy it was) so the ink is missing in places.

At some point in his life he was captured by the enemy and put to torture, thus the extensive scarring on his back that ruined the tattoo. Years after his recovery, he got the lillies touched up because they can take the man out of Temeria but they can't take the Temeria out of the man.

Dagger

Friendship tattoo with Ves 🥺 One night they got drunk and confessed their platonic love for each other, and then went to find a guy to tattoo a dagger on them. Ves' one is on the left side of her back because she knows Roche will always have her back no matter what happens, and his is over his heart because she will always have a place in his.

Blue Stripes

He just loves The Boys ok. It was supposed to be one stripe per year but then he ended up needing to be out in the field for months at a time. His 1 braincell was dedicated to realising it wasn't a good idea crawling around in mud and gunk with an open wound.

Fox

Do I even need to explain this. Here's where the tattoo quality increases because Iorveth has connections and taste.

Originally he wanted (or I WANTED LMAO) vines around the Fox, and then realised that it would be appropriating elven culture. He didn't feel he had the right to take on their symbol after he spent so long suppressing them.

Only one foot is coloured because halfway through the session, he decided he was too old to put up with the pain. Iorveth laughed at him but understood.

The fox is tattooed over one of the many scars Iorveth gave him.

Marigolds

He got this when he finally overcame his hatred for his mother. She passed on when he was 15 and Iorveth helped him realise that she didn't purposely damage him and did the best she could, even though her best was lacking. He has memories of how much she loved Margiolds and got them tattooed in remembrance of her and of his acceptance of her. He thinks she would be proud of him.

Disclaimer: I read that tattoos were commonly used as a method of torture in medieval times BUT this is fantasy witcher world so history can go into the bin, and maybe my headcannon also goes into the bin but here it is. Other disclaimer: Please feel free to use any of these HCs. If it sparks an idea, great. If you want to modify it, great. I would 100% love to see it but you don't have to tag me if you use them.

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Our Parts Ahead

This was a commission for @briarfox13 with her OC Lillie of Temeria and Emperor Emyhr var Emreis. Thank you so much for your support. NSFW.  

         The ballroom is gilded in black and gold. 

         Lillie doesn’t envy those who never experience fetes such as this, where jeweled dressed dancers swirl and sway to soft and vibrant music. They dance. They play their games with one another. Tonight the ballroom must have a thousand different games playing.

         As an ambassador, she plays a game of tact. Temeria sent her to Nilfgaard, so therefore her poise is all of Temeria at this celebration for the equinox. One doesn’t have to look beyond the surface to see that, but Lillie is used to more than merely skimming the surface. This celebration blooms a thousand different romances. There are romances in the way the serving girl keeps her eyes on the diplomat from Skellige, or the way the courtier who asked Lady Porshe to dance kisses her hand for a beat longer than what it is proper. Lillie is trained in reading glances. So much is said in the weighted space between a held gaze.

         Emperor Emyhr var Emreis’ glances don’t merely speak. They sing. Her glances toward him from across the ballroom are brief between the sweep of the jeweled dancers obstructing her view, but they are like the song of a nightingale in the morning.  She’s careful as she can be with him, but she knows several courtiers who certainly aren’t as skilled as she in reading glances have caught on to the meaning of hers. She doesn’t think Emyhr cares for what they say. Nor does she. He prefers actions to words and believes weak minds speak of people. He is all of Nilfgaard, a land and an idea. What does a grand idea think of think of the opinions of sheep?

         All of Nilgaard keeps his eyes on her. All of Nilfgaard breaks through the dancers, a pillar in the sea of black and gold dresses and masks and stands smoothly and effortlessly by her side. Emyhr has never been so brazen. They stand not as Temeria and Nilfgaard but as a man and a woman. She wears a mask of gilded red, blue, and white with lace trimming to match her dress, though it wasn’t the mask that made her brazen, it was all Emyhr. His mask efficient, black trimmed with gold. He always dresses smartly as befitting a man of action and few words. He allows his presence to speak for him rather than words.

         His glances have shouted at her. Glances after that day in the library. “What are you looking for?” he asked when he found her there, scanning the shelves. They always said Nilgaard had the grandest library. Lillie never imagined something grander than a thousand books would find her there.

         “A book of romance,” she replied, her heart quickening. She had seen Emhyr before holding court. She found him uncompromising and strong. Books changed him. Though dignified in the library, he was also soft.

         He scanned the shelves. Not looking for long, he picked out a book on the farther most shelf, offering it to her. She heard of the story before, Giulietta et Romeo, but it sat long buried between other books on the shelf that caught her eye.        

         “Yes,” he said, his fingers—warmer than she would have expected—brushing over hers as she took his gift. “But what else?”

         His question hung in the air, unanswered. Unanswered until this moment, until she says, “dance with me.”

         He offers few words for her as he takes her along this waltz. If she’s not mistaken the music is softer than before when he came to her. It’s better for him to hold her close. Their masks do little to hide their eyes, nor would she want him to miss her gazes, sweeping over his form. His tall and imposing and he doesn’t make himself fit against her. All of Nilfgaard could never. Instead he offers all of himself in hopes she will catch him.   

         She catches him. She holds him. The Nilfgaardian emperor and the Temerian diplomat waltz and hold one another, Lillie a sweep of red, blue and white and the emperor gilded black and golden silks. They dance slowly at first and then he holds her more tightly, squeezing her hand in his and making her shiver as their pace quickens. It’s the sweet thrill of his newness that’s as natural to her as breathing. The soft look in his eye, it must be what she wants—for the two of them to make up lost time. I am what I am and I know what I am, Emyhr says without saying as he guides her along. I know who you are. We will dance either way.

         Lillie bubbles and bursts. The dance is more than a dance and his eyes say are unflinching and soft and have more fire than they did that day in the library. They say it’s innate to fall in love. There was no call when she met Emyhr, no water to dive into. It always was, nothing more complicated than that. She always knew.

         It was the same for him. Confirmed, with a single “Lillie.”

         Their want is acknowledged. But once acknowledged there is a need, growing louder with the cacophony of the music and the beating of her own heart alongside the beating of his. When he takes her along the side of the checkered floor and stopping their dance, she presses her palm against the beat. It’s all of Nilfgaard under her palm and all of her heart. He does the same as she. He finds she’s louder than the music. Within the same mirror gesture, they share the same intimacy as they did when they read the same words of the book he lent. She devoured every word of that book. They read and poured over the same words. She can think of no other intimacy than that.

         “I loved the book you lent me,” Lillie mutters. “I must return it my lord.”

         “It is yours.”

         “My lord—”

         He presses a finger to his lips, a silent quiet. “Show me one of your favorites.”

         “Yes.”

         He takes her to his library. They are back where it all began. The lighting is soft and dim, the music from the celebration subdued within the walls. As a child Lillie loved tales of knights and still does, though her head swims and what titles exactly caught her all those years ago. The titles are all lost with the greatest ever stories told and some yet not told yet standing by her side. At last however as she scans, there’s a familiar spin. Her fingers against a title, The Tale of the Two Lovers, Lillie caresses the words as if they speak to her. Noticing, Emyhr asks if it’s a favorite.

         “I haven’t read it yet, my lord. But I’d like to.”

         He takes her hand. They stand shoulder to shoulder, his lips pressed against her palm in a kiss.

         “When we are alone,” Emyhr says, “call me by my name.”

         “When we are alone, do not play games with me.”

         There was a moment during the dance when Emyhr seemed a breath away from Lillie, when he did everything but kiss her. She felt as if she knew what it would be like if he made her his lover in front of all the court. That’s not entirely true when their lips meet. He is all consuming and everything in his kiss, all the stories on the shelf of this library. She should have known he keeps a part of himself hidden away from his courtiers. A man that gives everything to his land, a man that’s ruthless and appearing unfeeling, that’s not true, that’s not true. All missing parts are here with her, clawing at her, clamoring at her, begging her to not only be seen, but be understood.

         She welcomes more of him with open arms, two masked dancers searching, asking for something they cannot name other than more. In Lillie’s times before this, each action has had thought behind it. I must kiss him here, now he’ll touch me there and that will be that. Not so with Emyhr. It’s how she always heard it. It’s innate. The only inner call within her was one that wept, wanting to be seen and heard and understood. Emyhr answers. He holds her close and kisses her raw. She hears his own inner call, his desire not for the whole world, but a single lily in a garden.

         Like everything that evening, finding her way against the shelves is innate. Pressed against shelves and so many stories, Emyhr seeks every bit of exposed skin to lavish affection upon, as if every part of her has answers to questions he never thought to ask until now. It’s pride she recognizes within along with lust. So long he’s lived for untold stories. He hungers for hers.

         She peels and rips off his mask. She had no fear the mask was the cause of the spell before it falls to the floor, but Emyhr kisses deeper and seeks the string of her mask to undo. With the masks gone he raises her up, up on the shelves. All of Nilgaard and all of her heart holds her and supports her.

         Emyhr is deft. There’s the undoing of buckles and undergarments until they’re pushed away. His nimble fingers stir and satiate before pulling away and stirring a louder cry from within, begging for release. His kisses consume, and when Lillie reaches for him, seeking to caress in a way she understands how, he’s warm and silken in feel in her hand before he pushes more of himself into her for her to catch with kisses and movement. It’s like their dance before. He does well stirring her, readying her, but he is also slow until she squeezes his shoulders as if he worried she’d push him away. But if she had her way, and she is good at getting her way, she’d always keep him beside her.

         She thinks now will be the moment when he kisses her neck before traveling lower to the curve of her breast, letting the dress slide down past to expose her in full, but there is only the soft warmth of his wet tongue against her nipple. It’s the only peak of skin and yet she’s laid bare.

         Though he has hummed in satisfaction as her fingers have tugged at his hair, he rises. Their eyes meet. Calloused hands caress her swollen lips, her mouth opening to sweep the tip of her tongue against his finger. He groans. He grinds into her, her long skirts keeping the secret to all but them. His mouth is parted in lust. He wants a yes. She cannot speak. There are so many words in the books she’s read but she cannot conjure a single letter for stories waiting to be told.

         She nods. It’s enough.

         He’s inside of her in one firm, satisfying roll of hips. She cries out, a searing kiss capturing the sound. “No sounds,” he mutters. “Quiet,” he says, and already she aches for the day when they may be as loud and unrestrained as they please. Already she knows this won’t be the end. They have found their way to a joyous beginning unaware of how difficult the middle will be, unaware of how crushing the ending will be.  None of it matters when he’s inside her, when her hands asks more of him than anyone has asked of him before. None of it matters when he gives more than she asks.

         Skilled and deft fingers rub circles against her core. He’s inside her and everywhere on her body dancing and consuming. She holds him tight, lets the troubles of all the world come sweetly to her. She doesn’t have to make herself bigger for him or extend herself, she is everything already for him. He then rises and watches his work, her cheeks stained with red, watches her come close and closer still. She wants to be loud for him but before she can disobey and be loud his mouth is over hers. He captures that brightness bursting within her, that sweet harmony after the frantic yet controlled dance.

         Warmth inside her she clings to him, her legs clamping around his waist. they hold one another and kiss until he sets her down and they drift apart. Apart they’re stained and marked still, weight heavy in the air. She’ll always carry this sweet weight. She’d rather have all of this and all this life ahead with the sweet burden than a lifetime of weightlessness.

         Time passes. Masks from the floor are refastened, clothes and hair smoothed over. Emyhr leaves first, but not before kissing her hand. He calls her his beautiful demise, a poisoned flower.

         “No,” she says. That is a name she’ll never be. “This is sweet wine, my lord.”

         “Emyhr.”

         She nods. “Emyhr.”

         Another kiss on her hand before parting, another kiss. “What will we do?” she asks and his answer his simple before he leaves reluctantly. Write.

         But there was more said in his eyes. This will not be the last. And as Lillie is left alone, she thinks in this hall of so many stories, none will be as sweet as theirs.        

The hardest and most beautiful parts are ahead of them. It will be her favorite story to write.

[starsandskies]

Lillie of Temeria for @briarfox13 <3

Thank you so much for commissioning me! It’s been a real pleasure, sweetie!

[briarfox13]

Got my baby girl, Lillie of Temeria from @beidak-art ❤️ Thank you for doing her again! I missed her in your style!

[bloededhoine]

I like how some of the emojis work for different heraldic symbols, like the crimson lozenges for Rivia ♦️♦️♦️ or the lillies for Temeria that are absolutely not fleurs-de-lis because France does not exist in The Witcher-land ⚜️⚜️⚜️

wait it does!

and we got ⚡️ for the vrihedd

⚒ for mahakam

💩 for nilfgaard

[athrasil-archive]

Hope you don't mind me sending this! I'm currently obsessed with one of my Witcher OC's, Lillie of Temeria. She's my feisty ambassador who is sent to Nilfgaard and falls for the wrong person! What OC are you currently obsessed with? 😊 Hope you are well and have a good day!

Of course I don't mind 💕She sounds like a great character! Did falling in love cause conflicts with her and Temeria and Nilfgaard?

The current ocs I'm invested in are some of the ones I have never talked about before (I think?)

I have a vigilante oc called Gabriel Martez who tries to right the wrong in his family by doing his best to clean up the evil in the city at night. The boy tried his best to impress his dad, but sadly he had to keep greatest achievement as a secret :(

And Helena, who's gonna be my DA4 protagonist (if they ever release the game). She's business-minded and a pretty good player of political chess but she still maintains kindness and believes slavery in Tevinter is not something to be proud of or should be continued.

(She also has a vampire au because yes)

[suresaint-moved]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐙𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐀

goidemar (left) was the third king of temeria. when goidemar was still a prince, he married riannon, who was later kidnapped during the falka rebellion during which she gave birth to twins, fiona and amavet.                                                     ♛♛♛ amavet (centre), as the son of goidemar and riannon, was prince of temeria. in his earlier years, amavet gained a reputation for romancing many a woman, including married ones, and when he was seventeen he began a romance with one such married woman, tvilla de vintre, who was ten years older than him. the romance caused a small scandal in court. after his father removed his lover and his lover’s husband from court, amavet turned his sights on ilona laux-antille, an assistant to the sorceress tissaia de vries. but the dalliance was ruined when ilona used her magic to destroy any hopes of a planned, political marriage between amavet and the princess deirdre of kaedwen. as a result, amavet was sent away to one of the provinces in hopes that he would keep out of trouble. alas, one of the border commanders was roger kameny, the husband of the beautiful anna kameny, and soon amavet was having an affair with her. when anna’s husband learnt of the affair, he hired bandits to ambush the young prince whilst he was on a hunt, castrating amavet before brutally murdering him. it turns out that anna had gotten pregnant during the affair, and ended up giving birth to twins: a daughter muriel and a son crispin.                                                    ♛♛♛ crispin kameny, or crispin aep amavet (right), was the son of countess anna kameny and the temerian prince amavet, but due to how crispin and his twin sister were conceived, nobody knew for certain who their father was. therefore, crispin and muriel kameny weren’t granted the hereditary title of counnt and couldn’t inherit their supposed father, roger kameny’s, estate. after going through three court trials, however, they were granted the title and estate. but unlike his sister, crispin wanted his connection to the royal family validated and began to wear a coat of arms that combined his supposed father’s with his real father’s, resulting in adding burgundy to the temerian lillies. it caused a scandal which enraged his enemies as well as his family. eventually, crispin joined a gang of mercenaries, the so-called “free company” and referred to himself as crispin aep amavet, showing his true father was in fact the deceased prince of temeria and that he had elven blood in his veins. he disappeared without leaving a trace in metinna, and many people considered him deceased. the only person who longed to find crispin was king goidemar, who knew that while he was an illegitimate child, crispin was also his grandson.                                                  ♛♛♛ spending some time in the plains of mag deira, in metinna, crispin met colette njall, one of the markee people who minded the herds of horses roaming the land, and established expansive ranches raising cattle. they bred the famous metinnese ponies, which are white, extremely hardy, sure footed and intelligent. zelda’s horse, beetroot, is a metinnese pony, though she has no idea that her own birth mother belonged to the very people who bred these talented horses. metinna is also renowned for its wine, the metinna rosé, which rivals the wine brewed in places such as toussaint.  crispin began a love affair with colette, who fell pregnant with their only daughter, zelda njall / kemany. after zelda’s birth, crispin persuaded colette to leave her home in the plains of mag deira to travel with him and the rest of the free company. the small family travelled together to nilfgaard but, as it were, crispin was not so different from his real father, and it did not take long for him to abandon a young colette and their newborn daughter in the port city baccalà. zelda was barely three months old and crispin had already tired of the familial life he had painted to colette, who was only seventeen at the time, and who now had an infant to take care of without the aid of the man she thought would marry her, and all in a strange city she had never been to before. trying to keep her baby alive in the tough streets of nilgaard, as well as herself, colette grew desperate. after several long, hard months trying to get by, she grew sick, and knew that she would not make it through the fast approaching winters. but she did not want her daughter to die with her and was determined to find her a good home.

not longer after, a witcher arrived in the city. when colette learnt of this she tracked him down and asked that he take her child. but as soon as the witcher learnt that the baby was a girl, he declined, and set off. several weeks later, as winter hit nilgaard and its surrounding villages, vesemir discovered colette’s dead, frozen body in an abandoned hut somewhere out in the wilds. all was silent but for the ghostly howls of the storm outside, and then, miraculously, the cries of a living baby desperate to survive. after that, vesemir took zelda with him to kaer morhen...