A wooden practice sword smacked against something hard and clattered to the courtyard's frozen ground. Geralt sighed when he heard a high-pitched yelp.

"Gah, that hurt!" Jaskier cried out and clutched his shin.

"Stop swinging it so wildly then! And watch how fast you let it drop to your side!" Lambert yelled back. "How many swordsmen do you hear of knocking themselves about with their own blades?"

Jaskier frowned and crossed his arms. "None, but that's because they don't have a crazy witcher swinging at their head!"

"How else are you going to learn?"

Jaskier's scowl deepened. A small figure moved close to Geralt's side and tugged on his sleeve.

"Maybe we should switch partners," Ciri whispered. "I think Jaskier needs someone a bit more... patient."

After watching his brother try to train Jaskier for the last hour, he was inclined to agree.

"I'm plenty patient, girl," Lambert shot back from where he stood in front of the bard.

Ciri raised an eyebrow. "In what sense of the word?"

"Get on the pendulum and find out. I'm happy to wait to see how long it takes for you to fall off."

"I don't fall off."

"Really? How'd you get that hole on your trousers?" Lambert smirked and pointed at her knee. A small tear in the fabric revealed a patch of her pale skin.

Ciri frowned at him. Lambert chuckled and grabbed her shoulder, starting to guide her over to the pendulum.

"C'mon, kid. Geralt can sort out the bard."

Jaskier sent Ciri a sympathetic look as Lambert led her away. It soon melted into something close to frustration. Geralt picked up the sword from the ground and tried handing it to him.

"Here. We'll try again."

Jaskier blew several strands of hair out of his face. "What's the use? It's clear I have no idea how do this, nor will I be much good at it if I somehow figure it out. I should just go dust more or... something."

"You're being too hard on yourself. You've only been at it one morning."

"More like my whole childhood," Jaskier muttered.

"Good thing you're no longer a child, then," Geralt said. When Jaskier didn't smile, let alone acknowledge what he said, he held the sword out further. "Take the blade, Jaskier."

The bard sighed but grabbed the wooden weapon.

"Hold it high enough that you'll have an advantage, but still low enough to maintain control. Like this," Geralt said and raised his own training sword, which he had been using with Ciri before. Jaskier mirrored the motion. "Swing it."

The bard cut through the air with it, lunging a foot forward as it moved. Geralt gently tapped his calf with his own sword.

"You don't need to move your foot out so far. Or at all, if your opponent is near."

"How am I supposed to keep myself steady then?"

"Watch."

Geralt swung the sword effortlessly. Jaskier looked on carefully, and did a decent enough impression of the movement after.

"Better. Now hit me."

Jaskier's eyes went wide. "Hit you?"

"Mhmm."

"That sounds more like a suicide mission than training," Jaskier rolled up his sleeve to show a thin but blossoming bruise on his forearm. "See? Lambert gave me this when I tried striking him earlier."

"I'm not Lambert. Swing your blade."

Jaskier pursed his lips but did as he said. Geralt's own sword blocked the strike easily.

"Again. And watch that foot."

They went on like that until Jaskier was panting for air and dripping with sweat.

"I need... a drink," he gasped and walked a few paces to a pitcher he had brought out that morning. He poured water into a mug with shaky hands and gulped down the drink. "That was... exhausting."

"It won't be after a while."

Jaskier looked at him cautiously. His chest still rose high with each breath. "Why? Wasn't I disgraceful? That was the word Lambert used earlier, I believe."

"No," Geralt shrugged. "You were better than before."

Jaskier shot up an eyebrow. "You're just saying that to make me feel less like shite."

"Since when would I do that?" Geralt deadpanned. Jaskier scoffed through a small smile. "You didn't lunge as much and your grip wasn't as stiff, though it could still use some work."

"That isn't too shabby a start, I suppose," Jaskier started, looking down at his sword. He spoke up again a moment later. "Same time tomorrow?"

Geralt nodded.

"Lovely! I'd better go take a bath. I doubt you witchers and your especially strong snouts would appreciate a smelly bard at supper- Melitele's tits!" Jaskier screamed when a portal ripped open near him, causing him to stumble back into Geralt. The witcher placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as a woman with jet black hair and bright violet eyes stepped through it a moment later.

She immediately hunched over slightly and gasped for breath. Geralt tensed as he watched her.

"Gods, it's just you," Jaskier clutched his chest. "A warning would be nice, you know!"

"Fuck off, bard," Yennefer said as she tried to get her breathing under control. Geralt looked across the courtyard to see Lambert call a blind-folded Ciri down from the pendulum.

"You're early," he grunted.

"There's no point in delaying this," she said and stood up straighter. "Where's your child?"

Geralt nodded toward the girl walking over with Lambert. The mage frowned.

"Is she always in that terrible garb?"

Geralt shrugged. "It's easier for her to train in."

"Not to be a witcher, I hope."

He frowned at that. He wanted to say he was just trying to help Ciri protect herself; that he'd never put her through the hell he had been through, trials or not, but the girl nearing their side cut him off before he could.

"Hi, Yennefer!" she said with a bright smile. The mage's face suddenly softened.

"Hello, Ciri. I assume your witchers have already decided on a place for us to work."

"Vesemir said we could use his office today. I can show you the way!" she nodded, still grinning. Her eagerness was rather adorable, and it made something in Geralt's chest feel fuzzy. He did his best to ignore it.

"After you," Yennefer said with a hint of a smile. It faded when she glanced at Geralt, before turning her back to him. He took a step forward to follow the mage and the girl who was practically bouncing at her side, but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.

"It's likely best they go alone."

Geralt frowned at Jaskier. "Someone needs to explain what happens when her powers act out. Besides, Ciri barely knows her."

"Ciri is well aware of all that at this point. And you wouldn't think so by looking at them," Jaskier said, nodding toward the girl who was happily chatting with the woman as they walked toward the keep. Geralt was surprised to see Yennefer genuinely smile back at something Ciri said. "Besides, do you think Yennefer would appreciate you there?"

"No."

"Then let them be. They'll probably end up talking about girly things by the end of it, anyway, which is something I know you wouldn't want to be privy to."

Lambert smirked from beside him. "If it's girly things involving that woman, I'd gladly listen in."

Geralt glared at him, finding it hard to hold back the growl in his throat.

"You're a right pig, you know that?" Jaskier frowned. Lambert barked out a laugh.

"What? Anyone with a taste for women would agree with me. The wolf here, especially."

Geralt punched his shoulder. It only made Lambert laugh louder.

"That staircase leads to where we're going. Sorry it's a bit out of the way," Ciri said as they made their way through another hallway.

"Not surprising for a witcher keep. Especially one as large and decrepit as this," Yennefer added with a slight frown.

"It's not as bad as it looks. A bit drafty, but more lively than you'd think," Ciri smiled.

Yennefer raised a brow. "I've never associated that term with anything remotely involving witchers, save for the bard."

"I suppose you could think that of Vesemir, but Lambert's as loud and brash as they come, when he's not pissed- er, in a foul mood. Eskel can be quiet, but he loves a good story. It's pretty easy to get him laughing, too."

Ciri stepped onto the stairs and listened to Yennefer's heels click against the stone. The sound of a woman's fine shoes clacking as she walked was once insignificant, but after not hearing it for months, Ciri found herself rather captured by it.

"And Geralt?"

Ciri noticed a terse frown that was just obvious enough to notice form on the mage's lips.

"I don't know if lively is the term, but he's not boring," Ciri started. "I don't quite know how to describe it."

Yennefer didn't respond. She was still a bit tense, and a bit out of breath, when they got to the top of the stairs. Ciri tried not to dwell on it. She didn't know Yennefer well, but the woman had made it clear to the witchers that she wasn't one to easily accept help. Or anything that could be taken as pity.

Ciri opened the door and smiled at Vesemir when she saw him rise from his desk. The witcher walked around to its front and gave a curt but not unfriendly nod to Yennefer.

"You're Vesemir, I suspect?" Yennefer asked after she quickly scanned the office with an uninterested glance.

"Aye. Welcome to Kaer Morhen. Apologies for not giving you a proper welcome the first time we met," he said.

"And apologies for my sudden entrance. I'm sure detecting a mage on your grounds was an unpleasant surprise," Yennefer nodded to the glass box on a shelf behind Vesemir's desk, which Ciri remembered glowed whenever someone crossed over the keep's wards. Vesemir shrugged in return.

"If you were any other mage, it might have been. But Geralt has told us a great deal about you."

"I'm guessing that still wasn't much," Yennefer mused.

"It was for him. We're happy to have you helping our young Ciri," he looked over at her. "Maybe your instructing will manage to keep her awake."

"That was only one time..." Ciri muttered, thinking back to the week before. Vesemir had assigned her extra reading for falling asleep during his lecture on types of poisonous berries. He gave Ciri something close to a smile before he looked back at Yennefer.

"No matter. Let me know if you need anything. We don't have much that could be of use to a mage, but don't hesitate to ask."

Yennefer nodded. Vesemir walked across the room and crossed through its threshold, shutting the door behind him. The mage stepped toward his desk and leaned against it. She gestured for Ciri to sit in the chair in front of her.

"To start, tell me everything you know about your powers."

Ciri sat down on the seat and launched into what she could remember, along with what Geralt and Jaskier had told her about the times she had completely blacked out. Yennefer's face remained impassive as Ciri spoke, and she would have seemed disinterested if it wasn't for the way her violet eyes were carefully trained on her.

"And you've never consciously willed any of this yourself?" Yennefer asked once she had finished. Ciri shook her head.

"Not that I can remember. It comes out as a form of self-defense usually, but I never feel in control of it."

"Usually?"

"The most recent time it happened was rather spontaneous. I wasn't in any danger," Ciri said. A thought struck her mind. "Though I had just drank white gull. Eskel mentioned once it wasn't meant for humans."

Yennefer's lips pulled together. "They let you have gull?"

"No!" Ciri quickly said. "I accidentally took a sip from Geralt's mug thinking it was my own."

The mage thrummed her pointed nails against the surface of the aged desk. "Did anything different happen that time? From what you remember?"

Ciri's eyes roamed over Vesemir's bookshelves as she thought back to that night. The memory was hazy, but still more clear than her other outbursts had been, save for when she was escaping the Feathered Knight just after he had stolen her away from Cintra. Something heavy settled in her gut.

"I don't remember exactly, but I said something about the world dying and being reborn during it. Except, it wasn't me saying it. At least that's how it felt."

Yennefer was quiet for a moment. Ciri noticed her jaw tense.

"No wonder you blackout."

"Is that uncommon?" Ciri asked. Yennefer didn't answer right away.

"Not if my suspicion is correct. Give me your hand."

Ciri scooted to the edge of her seat and stretched her hand toward Yennefer, who grasped it with one of her own. The mage closed her eyes, staying silent as they touched.

Ciri didn't feel anything at first, save for how incredibly smooth Yennefer's skin was. But soon she felt a buzzing in Yennefer's fingertips that transferred to her own. The sensation reminded Ciri of the oclemencer Vesemir had made her hold not long after she arrived at Kaer Morhen, though this time, images didn't flash through her mind. Instead, a warmth slowly spread from her hand up the length of her arm.

The heat started to turn into an uncomfortable chill once it reached her elbow. Ciri gasped and broke free of Yennefer's hold, worried the relentless cold that had followed her in the weeks leading up to her last outburst would torment her again.

"Are you alright?" Yennefer asked as Ciri tried to calm her racing heart.

"Yes. I just felt so... cold the last time, and it seemed like that might happen again."

Yennefer raised a brow. "Cold?"

Ciri looked away, nodding slightly. "Do you know what that might mean?"

"No. But it's clear you're brimming with chaos," Yennefer straightened up and walked over to the window behind Vesemir's desk. "I was going to start with some basic exercises, but I think it's best we wait."

Ciri furrowed her brows in confusion and tried to keep the panic out of her voice when she spoke. "Why? I need to get this under control as soon as possible."

"And you need to do it properly," Yennefer said. "I want a second opinion before we start. You have a rare form of chaos - one I'm not very familiar with. A mage I trust can help. She just won't be able to do so before the end of the week."

Ciri felt a little bit better at that. A few days couldn't hurt, she supposed. "We can tell Vesemir about her before you leave."

Yennefer nodded. "That won't be for a little while longer. My own chaos is still recharging," she frowned and flexed her fingers. Her piercing eyes roamed away from the window and scanned over Ciri. "Is that all you have to wear?"

Feeling a bit self conscious, Ciri shifted and glanced down at her clothes. The hole in her knee that Lambert had pointed out earlier felt larger under the mage's gaze.

"No. I have another set of trousers and two dresses. I haven't worn them in a while, though," she shrugged. "They're not very practical to train in."

Yennefer scoffed. "I suppose not. Nor is there much occasion to wear a dress in a keep full of witchers. Still, it might be best to have one on when Tissaia comes. She's quite fond of tradition, wherever it can be salvaged these days," she said, nearly frowning.

"What kingdom does she serve?" Ciri asked. She assumed Tissaia was the mage Yennefer mentioned before.

"She doesn't. She's the rectoress of Aretuza, where mages are trained."

Ciri shifted in her seat again. "Will I have to go there? If I'm a mage, that is."

"Not when it's teeming with druids who are sympathetic to Nilfgaard. Besides, it's stifling there," Yennefer said. "You don't strike me as one to tolerate living entirely under another's rule."

A small smirk tugged at Ciri's lips. She didn't suppose any grandchild of her grandmother's would.

"Did you serve a kingdom? Or is asking about your past still off limits?"

"Depends on what you ask," Yennefer smirked. "I was at the Aedirn court for a time. A boring, squabbling bunch they were."

"Grandmother didn't like them much, either. I never figured out why though," Ciri added.

Yennefer's face grew more serious. "It may have been a court full of daft nobles, but they were rather sympathetic to elves and those who carried even a drop of their blood."

Ciri frowned and looked away from the mage. "I guess that could be it."

Silence settled over the room after that. Ciri was glad when Yennefer was the first to break it.

"How about you? Has the heir to Cintra ventured to any other courts or corners of the continent?"

"Only a few. Grandmother preferred to stay in Cintra, but we would visit Skellige every summer. I loved the beaches there, and the feasts were the best I've ever been to," she smiled. "The people joked and danced like they didn't have a care in the world. And Grandfather would always take me out on the rocks to look at the stars over the ocean before bed."

Ciri's chest tightened at the thought of the moonlight bouncing over the rough waves; even more when she thought of her grandfather pointing out all of the constellations beside it as noise from the feast drifted out over the rocky beach. No matter how entertaining the feasts were, he always insisted on stepping away to look out over the ocean and up at the sky with her.

The memory made her heart both sing and ache.

"Skellige nobles did always make Aedirn more lively when they visited. If only the fish they insisted on trading hadn't stunk up the city." Yennefer frowned and glanced at the fireplace in the corner, where only a few embers still burned. She started moving toward the door. "Come. We can compare notes on courts while you show me around this brutish keep."

Ciri smiled and followed Yennefer. She debated on where she should lead the woman first. The library was her favorite spot, but she remembered Yennefer spending time in there when she first visited.

Well, if she could call that a visit.

As Yennefer launched into a subpar review of the Redanian court, Ciri began guiding them toward a landing not far from her room. She discovered a breathtaking view of the mountains there only a week or two after arriving.

Eskel had said the best way to get accustomed to Kaer Morhen's ancient walls was to look out beyond them. Ciri didn't quite agree. Nothing had quite matched the evenings she spent unwinding with the witchers and Jaskier in front of a warm heath. But for Yennefer, it seemed like a good place to start.

Thank you for reading!