They managed, with Ciri doing witcher work and Avallac'h being the village healer. He had set up a rudimentary laboratory of sorts and also planted his own herb and mushroom garden for use in potions.
He wasn't a farmer after all but the farmers came to him when they had ailments in exchange for payment in food or services. The work kept him busy and distracted him from his boredom and unhappiness.
"Avallac'h, I don't feel so well," Ciri said. She was pale and in no shape to be swinging a sword.
"You've been nauseous for this past week. Ciri, have you missed your monthly cycle?" Avallac'h asked.
"Y-yes," Ciri answered. "Does that mean I'm..."
"Quite possibly, yes," he said, eyes widened.
"I'm going to be a mother," Ciri said, smiling to herself.
"Zireael, do you wish to inform Geralt and Yennefer?" Avallac'h asked.
"No," Ciri said. There was steel in her eyes. "I don't wish for them to know."
It struck Avallac'h as being very odd but he did not press further. Since the pregnancy, while obviously being unable to take witcher contracts, Ciri had become moody and withdrawn.
Avallac'h had never dreamed that he would ever be a father. Perhaps he had, a long time ago when Lara was alive, before Cregennan. He had reared Caranthir but this was different.
This child sprang from his own seed, of his and Lara's bloodlines. Zireael was insignificant, didn't he say so himself? The passing of human generations meant nothing to him, in the end this child was his and Lara's.
The only problem was that this child was no full-blooded elf and that was all Cregennan's fault. And he had to deal with the very human mother of his child who was definitely not Lara.
Crash! The sound of delicate bottles of glass as they shattered on the floor.
"Avallac'h! Didn't I tell you not to keep your potions here? I can't stand the smell," Ciri said, before running to vomit in a bucket.
They argued often now, and some days stretched where they didn't even speak to each other. In the end she would always climb back in bed to sleep with him again, perhaps preferring his warmth compared to sleeping alone. And they would act as if nothing had happened.
"Ouch," Ciri said one night.
"What happened?" Avallac'h said, immediately awake.
"The baby, he keeps kicking around in my belly," she said.
"He?" He asked.
"The village women said from the look of my belly, the child is most likely a boy. I have named him Civril," Ciri said. "Would you like to feel our baby's kicking?"
"Yes," Avallac'h said. Ciri guided his hand to her heavily pregnant belly. "Oh! I can feel it," he said, in wonder.
"Ah, it seems he has quietened down. Perhaps he's tired now," Ciri said, laughing. A foreign sound, Avallac'h couldn't remember the last time he heard her laugh.
...
Labor pains had started and Avallac'h and the village's old wise woman attended to the birth. At long last the cries of the baby were heard.
"Zireael, look at our son." Avallac'h gently placed the baby in her arms.
Ciri wept. Time was almost up, she didn't want to be weak. "No, take him away. You hold him, Avallac'h."
"Zireael..." Avallac'h said in surprise. "But don't you wish to feed him?"
"Later. Right now I'm too tired," Ciri said brusquely.
...
It had been a month and a half. Ciri refused to share a bed with Avallac'h. The baby thankfully did not wake them up at strange hours of the morning as babies were wont to do, he slept peacefully all throughout the night.
There was a wedding in the village. An elf and a human girl. They were obviously in love. They acted as if they were the only ones in the world, only having eyes for each other.
Avallac'h saw how Ciri gazed at the happy couple. He was painfully aware that they themselves had not been married.
He had a ring made, a simple band of silver. And some flowers he plucked which grew wild in the fields.
"What's this?" Ciri asked.
"Couldn't you guess? I'm asking you to marry me," Avallac'h said.
Ciri was speechless. He kissed her and slid the ring onto her finger.
"I want us to be more than parents of Civril, I want us to be husband and wife," Avallac'h said.
A pause where Avallac'h looked expectantly at her. "When's the wedding?" Ciri asked stiffly.
"As soon as possible, " he replied.
That night, Avallac'h was tender and made love to her at a teasingly slow pace. Gentle kisses matched with equally gentle thrusts as he laid his head on her full breasts. Ciri whimpered and clutched at him urgently but he refused to hurry.
"You've just recovered from giving birth, Zireael. I don't want you to get injured," Avallac'h said. Was that love in his eyes? Ciri held his face in her hands, wanting to remember every single detail of him.
He climaxed, and Ciri held him as he trembled, moaning out his satisfaction. He fell asleep while she was still awake, thinking and thinking, a million thoughts running through her head. Finally, she made up her mind and quietly left the bed.
Ciri looked at the ring and the flowers and lastly at their son. She kissed her baby, her tears falling on his cheeks. The baby awoke, as if sensing his mother was about to leave and he started to cry. Avallac'h awoke to the baby's cries. Ciri was nowhere to be found.
...
Ciri was on a horse, riding as far as she can. She was afraid that if she teleported, Avallac'h could trace where she was.
She took a moment of respite, spotting an inn. She had put quite a distance behind her. Freedom, wasn't this what she wanted? She was finally free and should be celebrating. So why was it that all she could do was cry, as if everything inside her was broken?