NOTE: So very, very sorry for taking this much time, guys! I finished school, the semester had me beat and I immediately started working over 40 hours per week, so I legit had no time for anything… plus, I'm begun writing a book, so it is hard to split my time between here and there… however, I promised I would finish and I plan on delivering! I just want to take the necessary time to make sure I give you something of quality that you can enjoy. So no, I have not abandoned the story. Just give me time!
NightRowenTree you're welcome!
Smiling Seshat, sorry if the summary is unclear, when I say she's in a world that will never be her own, but I meant it mostly that she's human and Aen Seidhe and does not belong in Tir nà Lia. I hope it become clearer as the first chapter progresses. Thank you very much for all your tips, especially the ones about punctuation in spoken sentences. Like I said, English is my second language out of four and each one had a different way of portraying conversation in writing. French is an utter nightmare, without quotations to define what words are spoken and what words are descriptive. If I were to use that style for the way that I write, it would be quite a mess. This place is my practice ground, and I appreciate all criticism, as it helps me better myself. I'll try to apply it in future chapters and other texts I write.
SedaIlandereKaden thank you very kindly! I do consider posting elsewhere, but I've never really posted anywhere but here before… I think I have an account with Archive of Our Own. I'll look into that.
AnnaPlotnkova, thank you for reading and reviewing! I understand you were not a fan of O'Dimm, but personally I found him more scary than other villains simply because he's always there… lurking in the background, pulling strings and unafraid to be horribly, horribly cruel and unjust to get what he wants. I promised I was going to finish this baby, and I will! Stay updated!
Kittypawswrites, yeah I'll agree Alyra is a bit overpowered at times and I do try and tone it down, while at the same time justifying why someone like Ciri and Geralt could take out the Hunt, in the end. Witchers are some serious stuff! And let's be honest… a main character that's not a bit OP and ass-kicking would be a bit boring… we're not following the village maiden, we're following some interesting! Hope you keep reading.
Kateskates, it wasn't too bad, was it?
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"Avallac'h has taken her away, we know not where." Caranthir's voice was placid, emotionless and reflected very poorly how Alyra felt at this moment. "She has become entirely impossible to track, my king. What would you have us do?"
Eredin glanced up at them from his seated position at one end of the immense hardwood table that filled the room where they were meeting. Alyra felt her heart flutter in panic at that gaze, but tried her best to remain as devoid of emotion as the Navigator. She could see the bitter fury that welled in those glacier eyes…
"Keep watch." Eredin's voice was as grating as ever, but it seemed a thousand times cooler. She could tell his anger was barely contained. "At the first sign of her, we move. This time… this time we will not fail." Those eyes fell right on her and she felt her heart stop. "Everyone out. Leave." Caranthir and Imlerith turned to go, but when she did as well, a cool smirk appeared on the king's face. "Not you, girl."
Alyra froze in place and listened to the footsteps of the other two generals as they walked from the room and the heavy door shut behind them with a resounding bang. She supported the king's gaze, but only because she was far too proud to admit she was afraid.
He gestured for her to come closer. Alyra moved, feeling as though she had to walk a thousand miles on legs that weighted a thousand stone.
When she came close enough to stand right next to the heavy oaken chair that Eredin was seated in, he stood slowly. She found he towered over her more than ever. His hand was ice-cold as it reached for her face and caressed her cheek with a gentleness that was both soothing and terrifying. Alyra kept her eyes up, watching him carefully, and betraying nothing of how she felt.
"You haven't come to see me in some time. Been busy elsewhere?"
She resisted the urge to swallow, her throat tight. Suddenly, she understood what was at play.
"You were quite busy seeking Zireael, my king… I did not think it a good time to disturb you."
He smirked coolly, grasping her by the hips and pivoting her so that she felt the big wooden table suddenly press against the back of her legs.
"Or did you simply not want to see your king anymore…?"
He pushed her up on the table and she let him, feeling the raw, hungry urge that boiled within him. Alyra remembered what Ge'els had told her, about being very careful about how she treated her new freedom, lest it offends Eredin and he find a way to be rid of her. As such, she grasped at his arms, accepting him as he pulled her close.
"I would not dream of such a thing…" She assured.
"Is that so?"
Eredin's kiss was hard and cold, his fingers unyielding as they grasped the back of her head, lacing into her hair and pulling at it almost painfully. Her hands found his pants and hammered the point home as she deftly undid his breached and found his hardening manhood, wrapping a hand around it with familiarity. His own hands were less patient, yanking at her pants harshly as he nearly ripped them off her and Alyra found herself helping him, in hopes of avoiding the destruction of her armor.
Rapidly, she wiggled out of her pants and watched the king as he tossed them aside without concern, hiking her back up on the table. He seized her by the hips roughly and before she could utter a protest, he sheathed his entire manhood into her. Alyra cried out, grasping at his shoulders as the sudden intrusion took her breath away, both in pain and in pleasure. Eredin did not wait for the ache to subside, pounding into her with fury and passion as she howled, pushing at his chest as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Part of her wanted to shove him away, but another part of her wanted to grab on harder and push her hips against his motions…
Alyra found herself comparing, with astounding clarity, at how Eredin was incredibly different from Ge'els… where the former was raw and perilous, the latter was gentle and calculating… and both made her crave for more of their touch…
Her pleasure peaked as the king took her like an animal on the table and she found herself pulling back her head, barely containing the long growl of desire that was seeping from her throat as she came, the waves of warmth rushing through her body just as the king grasped at her hips and spilled his seed into her with a groan.
She descended back into the room, panting.
Eredin did not release her at once… instead, he lowered himself over her and she found her gaze filled with his, ice-cold and menacing.
"Fail me again, Summer Wolf, and I will give you to the hounds."
With those words, he pushed away from her, lacing up his breaches as he went, leaving her alone in the room to gather her own clothes and get dressed, before leaving with a distinct feeling of dread and hate mixing deep within her.
(0)
In the days and weeks to follow, Eredin was extremely busy, never calling on her. Alyra returned to training with her soldiers, slightly worried by her failure to catch Cirilla and wondering what would become of this whole mess now. She distanced herself a bit from Ge'els, unsure how to juggle her double involvement with the viceroy and the king. Faithful to his habits, Nathiel kept her updated on the inner workings of the generals and how the search was going. It was through him that she learned they had managed to track down the sorceress Yennefer, harassing her to the point she had no choice but to call upon Geralt of Rivia to aid her in stopping the Hunt.
Now that the Cirilla's two most beloved individuals were in danger, Eredin was sure she'd resurge somewhere… it was a matter of time…
Alyra sent Edrick and three of her swiftest riders to Eredin when he requested them, needing their assistance in capturing the White Wolf, who they'd tracked down to a small village known as White Orchard. When Edrick returned, it was with a miserable expression: not only had they failed, but one of their fighters had perished when the sorceress blew up a wooden bridge beneath his steed's hooves. He'd brought back the body and they build yet another pyre to send off their fellow fighter.
Soon after, a solid lead appeared. Caranthir had found the coordinates of the laboratory belonging to the Aen Saevherne that travelled with Ciri, and he set out along with Nithral, a few hounds and warriors to explore the place and find a lead to Cirilla. They search was fruitless, and they stumbled upon Geralt of Rivia and a sorceress in that place, who had somehow also been led to the laboratory. Caranthir let Nithral fight the pair, thinking they'd be no match for the axe-wielding brute of a general, but Nithral was slain and the two escaped unscathed, continuing their search for the girl.
Eredin was furious. His anger was such that the very air within the city seemed electrified. Alyra had been given five new, young recruits to train as replacement for the two she'd lost, and she used them as an excuse to validate needing to ride off for a few days and teach them tracking in the wilderness. They did not return until a week later, when she was sure the king's rage had blown over and she was safe again.
Alyra didn't exactly hate her relationship with the king… his dangerous touch did awaken a hungry sort of excitement within her, but she knew that every moth attracted to a flame eventually becomes burned. So, she remained at a safe distance, preferring the gentler, calmer touch of Ge'els. She was more careful in meeting him now, making sure to leave the camp anonymously and to remain unseen all the way to the palace of Awakening… something within her warned her that if this affaire went public, it would end with blood spilt… possibly her blood…
It was through him that she learned of Eredin's mobilisation of the Aen Elle fleet.
"He's doing what?" She asked curiously, propping herself up on her elbows as she lay amidst the silken sheets of the viceroy's bed. He'd risen to stoke the flames in the fireplace, wearing nothing at all, the flickering lights dancing over the taunt, pale skin that covered his strong body.
"He's ordered the Naglfar prepared for sailing. As well as three of her sister ships."
She frowned as she watched him come back, sitting down on the bed lightly, next to her. Ge'els reached out his hand and stroked along the outside of her thigh slowly, raising goose bumps over her flesh. Alyra paid him almost no heed.
"So he thinks he needs the ships to reach her?"
Ge'els nodded slowly, his hawk-like eyes gliding over her naked form. "Twice now she showed up near Ard Skellig. Sources do say that Avallac'h had a laboratory somewhere there… and since he sailed her away last time she was there, we can assume the ships will be needed to reach her." He sighed, drawing circles around the round scar on her belly with long, light fingers. "Now if only we could find her…"
After that night, she had a distinct feeling that the end of this whole mess was approaching.
She was not wrong.
Her amulet glowed anew while she was mid-swing in a sparring session with Edrick. She stumbled, startled and almost got smacked on the nose with the dull long swords they were using, barely managing to pivot out of the warrior's range at the last possible moment.
She raised her hand and cried out wordlessly, calling a halt to the combat.
Edrick froze mid-swing and when he saw her grasp the amulet, he lowered his sword and nodded severely. They'd spoken about this before: he had command every time she was summoned elsewhere, so he knew what was to be done. She heard Caranthir's glacial voice resonate within her head.
Bring a dozen warriors.
She gestured at Ghevir, who was standing nearby, looking most serious.
"I need twelve of you." She cried out to her assembled fighters, all of whom had been watching the sparring session with great interest, keen to copy her movements. "Groups 3 and 4, with me. The rest, I leave you with Edrick." Without another word, she pressed the gem in the centre of her amulet.
Like all the previous times, she was armored up as she was magically transported. However, this time she did not appear before Segomo, finding herself suddenly standing on the moist, slippery deck of a swaying ship, Ghevir and her twelve fighters appearing beside her. The unexpected change of ground made her stumble, but she caught her balance as she took in her surroundings. It took her a moment to understand they were standing upon the Naglfar, sailing out of the bay that bordered the city. Caranthir stood with the king behind the ship's wheel as sailors around them ran and shouted, preparing the sails, raising the anchor and pulling in the ropes.
"Go below." She ordered her men, making her way alone up to Eredin and the mage. Caranthir was looking straight ahead, paying her no heed.
As they sailed out from the bay, the Navigator raised his staff high, the glowing orb of frost lifting up a freezing gale as they went. She heard him chant words in that terrible, grating voice of his, and suddenly, fog enveloped the ship. Alyra kept the change around them, even if he did not see it: the air smelled different all of a sudden, and the temperature dropped, not just from the mage's staff. Caranthir had transported them… she had to admit it was an impressive feat: it was one thing to open a portal and harry through a few soldiers and another entirely to move an entire ship, crew and all, across dimensions…
"This is not her world…" She heard Caranthir grumble as she peered through the fog around them, searching for…
"Shore!" One of the elven sailors called, pointing to their right. She followed his motion and saw that indeed, they were passing a mass of land. As she squinted, she thought she saw people on it, but it was hard to tell with the fog that kept rolling in and out, clouding her sight.
There was a sudden, bright flash of green on land, just where she'd thought she'd seen someone standing. Now, there was clearly no one…
"Zireael…" Eredin growled. "Where has she gone?" He snapped at his mage.
Caranthir seemed to bend his head in focus, his staff growing bright as he murmured words to a spell. There was a long moment of oppressive silence as he searched, searched…
"She's gone to the Witcher keep. Kaer Morhen."
Eredin nodded. "Bring us back. This time, we take the fight to them. This time, she won't escape…"
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Tir nà Lia was in pandemonium. The generals assembled their lieutenants, howled orders as soldiers ran to and fro, armoring up, while steeds were pulled from the stables and fields, roaring in the excitement, feeling that something was about to happen. For once, the citizens stepped into their homes, knowing that this was not a smart time to wander the streets, as warriors stampeded about, their razor-sharp weapons drawn and screaming battle cries.
In the chaos, Alyra pulled away from her squadron to join the king and his generals in the meeting room of the king's palace. As she entered the dark room, she noticed that Ge'els had joined them as well, standing near the king. The viceroy gave her no more recognition than he would have another general and she was glad of it. She walked to the huge wooden table, glancing down at the blueprints and maps she saw there.
She recognized the layout of Kaer Morhen almost at once, having been there with Lambert quite some time ago. Seeing it here, on this table in a world a million miles away gave her a strange, hollow feeling, as though the life she'd previously led also lay a million lifetimes away.
"These plans are dated, we do not know how much the keep has changed since that time, my king…" Ge'els offered.
"Our spies mentioned there had been an assault on the castle some time ago, which damaged the structure severely… there being very few Witcher left in the keep, they were most probably unable to patch everything up." Caranthir mentioned, staring at the plans with a furrowed brow.
Alyra looked at Eredin and saw that his gaze was trained on her, foxed and calculating.
"You've lain with a Witcher from the School of the Wolf." He stated with a voice like ice. "Have you ever been to their keep?"
She'd almost forgotten they knew about Lambert… Alyra sighed, and nodded, knowing she could not lie or escape this. Unless she wanted to betray the Hunt that is…
Knowing what was expected of her, she came closer and observed the plans, running a hand over those that showed an approximate layout of the castle's exterior. She paused her finger on the front gate, which she knew to be divided by a moat and protected by two heavy, wrought-iron gates.
"There is a single way into the keep, which is through the front entrance. If they shut those two gates, getting in will be hard, if not impossible…"
Imlerith interrupted her with a sneer. "Metal cannot withstand blow indefinitely."
She glared at him. "Neither can you hit a gate for ever if you're being shot at from protected crenellations, which overlook the entire length of the only path into the keep." There was a tense moment during which she only wanted to growl at him. They stared at each other hard and did not drop their eyes until Eredin made an annoyed sound, forcing them both to blink and look away with fury. "Regardless." Alyra continued, running her finger along the walls. "The attack you speak of has breached the wall here, giving us a wide opening into the keep. They might have repaired it, but I doubt it: the damage was extensive last time I went, and as you said, they do not have sufficient men to mend the walls."
"We could just open portals directly into the keep…" Caranthir proposed slowly.
Alyra shook her head. "You can be sure they'll have at least one sorceress, if not several, protecting the castle. And we don't know how many more Witchers they've gathered since they've learned the Hunt is on Cirilla's heels. No… if they've retreated to Kaer Morhen, it is because they are prepared for us, and ready to fight…"
"What are a few Witchers to the likes of our army?" Imlerith scoffed anew.
She slammed her hands on the table, hard.
"Have I not shown you enough what Witchers are to the likes of your army?" Eredin was looking at her with an expression that hid amusement and Imlerith was literally grinding his teeth. She continued, before he had the time to find a rebuke. "The worst thing we can do is underestimate them. They'll have gathered all the allies they can find to protect the girl. And Kaer Morhen, no matter its damage state, remains a solid, defendable keep. They can pull back into the castle and we can even face a siege. Chose to do as you will: I do not have the experience to guide anyone into war, but don't think you will find easy prey there."
There was a certain amount of pride in her voice when she said those words, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. As she spoke, Alyra came to realise how much her heart ached at the thought of these people she was preparing to go fight, at how she still considered them her friends and allies far more than she ever would the Hunt…
At that moment she understood: no matter how used she got to this life, how she adapted to her environment and made the best of it, her heart would always lie with her world. With her mother. And Letho. And even Lambert, prick that he was. Alyra's body would belong to the king, and Ge'els and the Hunt… but her heart would always remain her own…
Eredin nodded. "Very well. We shall transport our soldiers into the forests around the keep, preferably under the cover of trees to hide our numbers. Imlerith will lead the charge to the front gates of the castle. Caranthir, once everyone has passed the portals, you will focus all your energy on taking out any magical protection and assistance the Witcher has." Both generals bowed their heads in approval. Eredin's glacier eyes turned to her. "As for you… you will lead your squadron through the broken wall and take them by surprise once the fighting has begun. Any questions?"
They shook their heads.
"Good. We attack on the morrow."
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A bit shorter than what I would have wanted, but the next chapter is going to be intense, so, as always, bear with me!
