So my first playthrough, I did the Ciri is a witcher ending, second, she became Empress. This is sort of a hybrid that I thought up, making the empress ending less bittersweet. I'll try to keep to the game ending script, but I don't really feel like going too deep. Also, it bothered me that Geralt and Yen would just 'abandon' Ciri when she became Empress. I figured that they would settle sort of nearby, and you can read the rest later.
Now some of these details aren't exactly necessary for my story, but here are some ending details. I usually go for the good guy approach, so figure anything I didn't mention goes with that.
Nilfgaard wins, Temeria independent ally, Ciri becomes Empress, Yen romance, Cerys Queen of Skellige
Also, diverging from canon, Emhyr is dying, idk what from, maybe a side effect of the curse he was under? That is why he is so intent on getting his daughter back; he needs an heir.
Geralt POV, waiting at Nilfgaardian Campsite
While waiting for the craftsman to arrive, I hear footsteps behind me. "You're late.", I remark, catching the acrid scent of the forge, and the distinctive tang of metal.
"Soldiers…", he starts.
"...Blocking the roads, I know.", I interject as I stand. "That doesn't matter. You have them?"
"As agreed.", Master Ort confirms, drawing the sword. "Thirty eight and a half inch blade. Weight - just under 40 ounces. Siderite steel core plated with silver, polished to a mirror sheen. Shaving sharp, of course. Glyphs and runes both the length of the blade and on the hilt. Tang, full width of the blade. Ironwood handle scales wrapped in wyvern leather." The way he describes the instrument of death, he might have been introducing his favorite son.
"It's beautiful.", I say, admiring the weapon.
"Been in this trade for three decades. Only the best swordsmen have the coin for my wares. When I say no witcher has, or ever had, a better weapon, you ought to trust me." There's pride in his voice, but it's more than well deserved.
"Reputation precedes you, Master Ort. I'd never doubt you."
"The inscription, as you asked…", he declares, holding the sword up to catch the dying light of the sun.
"Dubhenn haern am gladeal, morc'h am fhean aiesin.", I intone.
"The flash that cuts through darkness, the light that breaks the night.", he translates.
"Exactly."
"Classic Elder Speech runes. No styling, simple and precise."
"May I?"
"It is yours.", he admits, handing me the weapon. "If you'd like to test it - had my lacqueys put out a training dummy."
I swing the sword, go through a few stances to try out the balance before testing the edge on the coarse hairs of my arm. Satisfied, I turn back to Master Ort.
"And the other item?", I ask.
"Arming dagger, double edged, seven and a half inch blade, slim profile, perfect for concealment. Hematite steel, one edge plated with silver. All of it with a black finish that devours light. You don't want to know how hard it was to get that color into the metal itself; even deep scratches won't compromise the finish."
"Perfect. Your payment - gems only, as requested.", I say, handing over the pouch.
"If you've an eye out for work, heard a striga's prowling the Maribor Forest."
"Thanks. Need to visit the tavern first, but after...who knows?"
"Good luck on the Path, witcher."
Geralt POV, at the inn
I walk through the inn towards a seated figure, face covered by a black hood.
"Finally.", Yen sighs. "I was beginning to think you'd run off without me."
"Please.", I smirk. "After all I went through to find you? Besides, you'd just hunt me down."
Yen purrs in agreement. "I would. And don't you forget it.", she says, snapping her teeth next to my ear to make her point.
"We really should go. Don't want to be late.", I point out, wrapping my arms around her slim waist. "Not every day a new Empress of Nilfgaard is crowned."
"Seeing as how you're being a child about it and won't let me teleport us, we'll have to wait till dawn to set out.", my lover huffs. "Maybe you can see in the dark, but I cannot. I do not wish to arrive exhausted from maintaining a light spell the whole way to the capitol."
"Even if we leave tomorrow, you might arrive exhausted for other reasons…", I growl as I press an open mouthed kiss to her neck.
"That…", she pants, melting in my arms, "...is an entirely different issue. And an acceptable alternative.", she says, leading me to the bedroom.
Geralt POV, the next day, Vizima Imperial Court, Coronation of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon as Empress of Nilfgaard
Crowns, capes, frills, lace. My entire field of vision is filled with so much black and white that if not for the trees, I might have thought I had taken some Cat. Yen must feel right at home, but the doublet chafes and bites at my flesh.
After Emhyr places the crown on Ciri's head, nobles and aristocrats make a long line in front of our daughter, swearing her fealty and presenting her with gifts. She smiles at each in turn, graciously accepting each offering, but I can see through the facade. She's bored, and she fidgets restlessly, though for someone who doesn't have witcher's senses or who doesn't know what they're looking for, she seems the perfect picture of regal grace. We stand near the back of the crowd, waiting for the ceremony to be over to speak with the new Empress and give her our gifts.
Finally, the procession ends and the crowd disperses. Yen and I make our way to the front of the courtyard, where a guard stops us before Ciri waves us through.
"It's so good to see you.", she says. Her eyes, though matured through hardship and loss, still twinkle like the little girl I brought to Kaer Morhen so many years ago.
I bow, deep, extending one hand while holding the other to my chest. "Your Imperial Majesty.", I joke.
Ciri runs with my jest and curtsies. "Come, Master Witcher, Lady Yennefer. I hold private audiences in my study."
Once inside, Ciri calls a few attendants to help her out of her stuffy robes and into a more practical outfit, a simple shirt of black silk and matching fitted pants, before dismissing them.
I place my parcel on her desk, and motion for her to unwrap it. Her eyes widen as she takes in the craftsmanship. "A witcher's silver sword! Swallow...May I?"
"It's yours.", I say. Yen and I watch with widening smiles as our ward draws her new blade, moving fluidly through several forms in her study, striking down imaginary enemies.
"It's perfect!", she says, "but I cannot accept it.", she adds glumly, holding the sheathed sword to me.
"You may be the Empress of Nilfgaard, but you're also a witcher. Not to mention the Lady of Time and Space. I'm sure you can figure something out.", I say. "Besides, swords are symbols of power and status. I believe all monarchs would do well to be versed in the deadly arts."
"I agree. Having steel on your back will keep those unruly nobles in line.", Yen adds.
"This might be more suitable to your office.", I suggest, holding out the dagger. "It's not as impressive as a sword, but with it's two edges, it'll cut men and monsters. And it's easy enough to conceal in an Empress' robes."
She takes the dagger, flipping it in the air a few times and testing the edge before strapping it to her lower back, hidden by the folds of her shirt. "You never know," she muses, "an assassin, or lycanthrope or a higher vampire might infiltrate my court, and I'd be forced to defend myself."
"Mhm. One can only hope.", I chuckle.
…
Dandelion narration
...Mere weeks after her coronation, Ciri buried her father next to her mother in an lavish ceremony. Not one to dwell on grief, the new ruler of Nilfgaard turned to her country. Cirilla had the necessary qualities for a truly legendary ruler. From her father, she'd inherited an Empress' political instincts. From Geralt, she had gained a sense of simple, human decency...Few monarchs boast both traits - which is quite a shame...
From time to time, the young Empress grew weary of politics, and would leave the care of her empire to her advisors, disappearing for up to a fortnight at times. Curiously, during her absences, villages in far flung corners of her lands, beset by brigands or monsters, would report strange flashes of light, followed by a mysterious cowled woman asking questions about the peasant's troubles. Within the next few days, the head of the monster, human or supernatural, would be left at the gate of the village, and the mysterious woman was never seen again. Meanwhile, the Empress would return, revitalized.
Although they'd wanted to remove themselves from the world, Geralt and Yennefer couldn't completely abandon their adopted child, and so they settled in a modest house in the Nilfgaardian capitol to keep close to her. Their home was always open to visitors, no matter the day or hour, and a melange of scents would greet the nostrils of any who entered. Sweet smelling herbs and plants mixed with pungent spices and earthy fungi grew in the gardens around their home, and Geralt made himself a small business as an herbalist, using his alchemical knowledge to help the citizens of the city, rich or poor. On occasion, he'd set off on contracts, more to gather rare ingredients and keep his skills honed than for coin, as he made a fortune from his potions and tinctures.
Yennefer acted as the mage advisor to the monarch, helping the young woman to grow her empire, both by expanding its borders, and developing what industries and economies Nilfgaard already controlled…
Perhaps it isn't exactly the life the strange family imagined; no responsibilities, on the path, removed from the cares of the world. But none of them would trade any of it for the world...
Ciri POV, months later
Epilogue
NOTE: I know little to nothing about the rest of the world of the Witcher. Sorry if the kingdom I mention doesn't exist or make sense, and if Ciri is OOC for continuing her father's expansion. Also, sorry if dimeritium doesn't exactly behave the way it's supposed to; I use here it to trap monsters, and keep them from shifting shape.
I may not have gone through the witcher mutations, but Geralt taught me everything he knew, and my instincts told me that something was wrong. Not with my empire, it was flourishing, and my latest campaign of conquest was going splendidly. They had even sent an emissary to discuss terms not even two weeks into my campaign. I called for the ambassador they had sent to meet me in my study.
In the hallway, I felt the presence again, and I whipped around, to reveal the delegate sporting a grin that was far too wide to be human. A higher vampire, judging from his stance and the long, thin claws slowly extending from his fingers.
"Now, Empress. Shall we discuss the terms of your surrender? My people will be free again! You were foolish to agree to meet me without guards.", he sneers as he steps towards me.
I fight to keep from smiling, instead putting on the mask of a frightened aristocrat, a ploy I detest, but played well thanks to watching Dandelion and mummer's plays. "Please, don't hurt me!", I wail.
As he lunges forward, I draw the dagger Geralt gave me, the black surface of the knife revealing nothing. As he approaches, I sidestep, driving the dagger through his shoulder, pinning him to the ground. My other hand goes to a rope of woven dimeritium wire, and I hogtie the vampire. I call for my guards to take him away. As I wait for them to arrive...
"A patriotic vampire. How unusual. As you can see, I have no need of bodyguards, but a vampiric assassin posing as an envoy? How long do you think your people will continue to support your monarchy when they learn of this? I think I'll have you paraded through the streets of your beloved country, show the people what kind of monsters your king keeps company with. Perhaps they'll embrace the daughter of the famed White Wolf as their liege if she protects them from such monsters."
As my guards arrive, more chains in hand, I take a muzzle from them, and fix it over the assassin's mouth before allowing the men to finish restraining the vampire.