Impromptu Court

She looked at him confused for a moment before remembering, "You may take your leave doctor."

The doctor raised himself up and left. She was adjusting to giving people orders, but the level authority she had over people was still something she was getting used to. "More power, more responsibility," she thought with a sigh.

She turned back to the Witcher boy. It was odd thinking of a Witcher like that. Not as a grizzled old man covered in scars like she was used to, but as a young boy still fresh in the face. "Who in their right mind would make a Witcher in this day and age? Geralt and the handful of Witchers left in the world already have a tough enough time finding contracts."

She got a good look at him as he watched the servants carry away the Halfling on the gurney. His skin was light and his cheeks were rosy, a stark contrast to the pale complexion she was used to seeing on Geralt. His hair was pinkish red and vibrant. He had a strong jawline as well, though it still seemed a bit thin, probably due to his youth. She saw his lips curl up into a small smile revealing plump dimples on his cheeks. "Definitely not like any other Witcher I know. I wonder if this is what Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel looked like when they first started out."

He turned to her, "what now?"

"I still have to get crowned today, so I'll head to Temple Isle as soon as I have a new dress ready. How about you? Do you need to go back to Novigrad?"

"Yeah, I still need to collect my reward for the drowners I cleared out."

"Fair enough, my friends own a tavern in Novigrad. I can drop you off there right now if you'd like."

"If you wouldn't mind."

She put a hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The room lit up with a flash of green and when the flash faded the sounds of busy streets filled her ears. She opened her eyes and found she was in front of the Rosemary and Thyme just like she wanted.

"WITCHCRAFT! WITCHCRAFT!" she heard someone in the crowd yell before suddenly being muffled.

"Shut your hole, do you want to get killed? That's the princess of Nilfgaard," she heard another man say.

She looked around to try to find whoever it was that was talking but amidst the sea of surprised passers-by no one stood out. "It's really that easy?" she heard Meril ask, "You just close your eyes and you're there?"

"Pretty much," Ciri answered. "I can go wherever I please, whenever I please. I can even travel between worlds if I want to."

His eyes widened in shock. "You're joking!"

She laughed, "if only I were. But it's true, I spent a good part of my late teens and early twenties traveling between worlds. I've seen cities with buildings made of glass and steel that stretch up to the sky. I've run with unicorns to the edge of reality. Lived in underwater kingdoms. It was fantastic."

"You must be the most powerful mage in the world."

"Well…in this world at the very least. Anyway, no sense talking out here where people can gawk. Let's go in."

Raucous laughter and revelry leaked out from the tavern halls as Ciri opened the door. The moment she stepped through all fell silent. They stared at her, some with nervous looks, others with a tensed forehead, most with both. Murmurs spread through the tavern but she strode in without paying them any mind.

"Ciri!" she heard a man call exuberantly. A fellow wearing a purple bonnet and matching doublet appeared from the back of the tavern and immediately rushed to her. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and immediately spun her around. She laughed as he did so, then laughed even harder when he realized what he was doing and immediately put her down before backing away and bowing.

"My apologies your grace. The Rosemary and Thyme are honored to have you grace us with your presence," he said formally.

"You can drop the 'your grace' Dandelion, I haven't been crowned just yet," she answered with a smile.

He lifted his head up and gave her a bright warm smile, like an uncle who hadn't seen his favorite niece in a while. She noticed that all eyes in the room were on the two of them. "What's everyone looking serious for?" she called out.

She looked at Dandelion, then she jumped on a table and addressed the room, "drinks all around! COURTESY OF THE CROWN!"

The tavern erupted into cheers as she hopped off the table and leaned in to whisper in Dandelion's ear, "keep it cheap, the new entertainment budget is really slim this year."

"Don't worry, Zoltan knows how to work a room," he responded as he pointed to Zoltan who was already handing out mugs of ale.

From across the room, Zoltan shouted, "it's good ta see ya again lass! You should visit more often!"

"Who's your friend?" Dandelion asked pointing to Meril still standing at the door.

"Oh that's Meril," she motioned for him to come over.

"Greetings, I'm Meril," he introduced himself with his hand outstretched.

Dandelion ignored his hand and immediately inspected his medallion. "Your eyes and the sword on your back tell me you're a Witcher. I don't recognize this badge though."

He turned his attention to his eyes, "hmm come to think of it your eyes are quite different as well. Normally, a Witcher's eyes are yellow like a cat's, and you even have some color in your cheeks. Very different from the Witchers I know."

Meril looked at the bonneted man awkwardly before asking, "Do you know many Witchers?"

Dandelion looked at him surprised, "young man, do you not know who I am?"

"How can I? You didn't introduce yourself."

"How rude, a man of my fame requires no introduction," he said before promptly introducing himself with a flamboyant bow, "I am the bard Dandelion. Viscount De Lettenhoven, master of the seven liberal arts, writer of a thousand poems and ballads, and chronicler and best friend of the legendary hero Geralt of Rivia."

"Who?" Meril asked.

"Geralt of Rivia, the greatest Witcher of all time. You must be from deep in the country to not know his name."

"The mountains actually," Meril replied.

"Ah, I see, another one of those Witcher schools tucked deep in secret away from prying eyes no doubt."

"Yeah, that's more or less it."

"Fascinating, you must tell me all about it later. But for now, enjoy the free drinks. Come Ciri, we have much to discuss." Dandelion grabbed the princess by the arm and dragged her upstairs.

Ciri went along without much fuss, as they ascended the steps she asked, "How is Priscilla doing? Is her voice better?"

"Much better, she can sing again even better than before," he answered with a smile.

"Really now?"

"Mhm, her voice is deeper and warmer, it has more gravitas. I like it, not everyone agrees of course, but what matters is that she's able to sing."

"Well that's certainly good to hear," Ciri replied.

"That's not the only good thing," he said as he came to a stop at one of the rooms on the second floor. He let himself in without even knocking. "Callonetta! Look who came to visit!"

"Ahh! Dandelion, I swear if you don't learn to knock I'm leaving you!" Priscilla screamed as she rushed to cover herself.

"Never mind that, look who's here."

"Hmm, Ciri!" the blonde songstress rushed over to the ashen-haired women and hugged her tightly.

Ciri immediately noticed the pressure coming from her abdomen. She looked down to see Priscilla's belly was plump and glowing. "Oh my, Priscilla you're pregnant."

"Really? I thought I was just getting fat," she quipped.

Ciri looked at Dandelion, "is this your doing?"

"Guilty as charged," he said with a naughty grin.

"Wow, you fessed up to it more easily than I thought. I remember a time when you would have run for the hills if you'd gotten someone pregnant," she noted poignantly.

"Times change, and so do people," he answered with a wry grin. "Speaking of changing times, today is the day is it not?"

"That it is," she answered, "I came to pick you up. Are you ready?"

Priscilla went over to a nearby wardrobe and pulled out an elegantly embroidered sienna gown with long flowing sleeves trimmed with yellow ribbons. Further in there was an embroidered purple doublet, no doubt meant for Dandelion. "I had this commissioned the day we got your invitation. I wanted a doublet for Dandelion the same color as my dress, but he refuses to wear anything that clashes with his bonnet."

"It's my trademark, without it how will people know that I am the one true Master Dandelion and not some impostor?"

"Who would ever pretend to be you?" she said sarcastically.

"Ooh, touché Callonetta," Ciri said with a grin as the ladies shared a laugh at Dandelion's expense.

"Why…I never," he huffed up.

Just then a loud crash resounded from downstairs. Dandelion immediately shot to attention. "A bar fight? Not in my house!" he declared proudly before marching down. Priscilla and Ciri followed him. When they got downstairs a crowd was jeering at the sight of a dogpile of bodies in the middle of the floor. Zoltan was standing on the outside of it.

"Zoltan! What's going on here?" Dandelion yelled.

"No bloody clue, Mello just screamed thief, next thing I know he's tossin about with that red-haired lad that walked in with Ciri, then Byorston piled on top of them and now the bouncers are trying to break it up."

Suddenly a shockwave erupted from the center of the dogpile knocking all bodies off and pushing back the crowd. The force of the wave blew Dandelion's purple bonnet off.

"That was aard," Ciri declared as she wiped the dust from her eyes. She saw Meril was struggling to get back on his feet after having blown away his assailants. "Meril what the hell is going on?"

"This crazy minstrel attacked me out of nowhere!" Meril shouted back.

"Not out of nowhere!" a man with a thin beard and brown clothes shot back. "This mutant stole my money!"

"How the hell could I have stolen your money? I've never met you before!" Meril screamed.

"I don't know, maybe you used some kind of sorcery like you did just now. All I know is I caught you trying to spend money out my pouch!"

"You mean this?" Meril raised up a brown coin purse made of sackcloth. "I found this in the canal."

"How the hell did it end up in the canal? It was stolen just a little over three hours ago!" the minstrel yelled.

"Three hours ago, I was fighting ghosts in the sewers!"

"Ghosts in the sewers! You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth!"

"ENOUGH!" Ciri screamed as she flashed in between the two arguing men.

The room fell silent as she began to speak. "Now let's all calm down for a moment and wrap our heads around what's happened. What is your name minstrel?"

"Mello your grace," the minstrel said as he got down on one knee.

"If I'm understanding correctly you think Meril here has stolen your money correct?" Ciri asked.

"Yes your grace, I recognize the purse that the Witcher was carrying. It's the same purse I use daily to collect my earnings from my performances."

"I can vouch for that your queenliness!" shouted a tall heavy set man with a long bushy beard. Ciri noticed he spoke with a Skelligan accent.

"And you are?" Ciri asked, somewhat annoyed at being called 'queenliness.'

"Byorston, my lor…my lady. I play the drums with Mello here. I recognize that purse too. It contains all the coin we earned today."

"Meril can I see this purse they keep talking about?" Ciri asked the red-haired Witcher.

Meril handed the bag over to her. "I found it in the canal from where I came out of the sewer. I figured it belonged to the Halfling."

"When did you say you lost this?" Ciri asked the two minstrels.

"A little over three hours ago my lady," Mello answered.

"And how did you lose it?"

"We're not sure. We had just stepped off the stage after our act. I set it on the bar over there and ordered a drink. Then Master Dandelion came on and all eyes were on him. Next thing I know the coin purse is gone and no one saw a damn thing."

"Did you report the theft to the guards?" she asked.

"Haven't had the chance yet your highness," Mello answered, "besides even if I did it's not like they'd do anything about it. This is Novigrad."

"Fair enough, can you tell me how much was in the bag when you lost it?" she asked.

"It was stolen before I had the chance to count it up your highness," Mello answered, "but if I had to guess I'd say somewhere around two-hundred crowns."

Ciri raised an eyebrow, "you must think quite highly of your skills if that's your guess."

"We put on a good show," Mello answered.

"That we did, um your highness," Byorston confirmed. Several members of the crowd murmured in agreement.

Ciri opened the bag and inspected its contents. "Well there is quite a bit in here, but it's nowhere near two-hundred. Oh, what's this? There's a gold ducat in here."

"That's worth at least five-hundred crowns!" Mello shouted.

"Yes, but by your own admission there is no way you could have known that this was here."

"Well…he admitted that it's not his!" Mello yelled pointing at Meril.

"Calm yourself minstrel, or I'll have you flogged for contempt of court."

"This isn't a bloody court!"

"Article four, section one, sub-section B of the Nilfgaardian Penal Code states that an authorized adjudicator may declare an impromptu court when swift justice is deemed necessary for reasons of state. Sub-section C further elaborates that reasons of state can be defined at the discretion of the head of state, which I currently am."

"Head of state? But wait I thought you weren't crowned yet?" Mello stared at her confused.

Ciri flicked her hand and in a flash of green, a scroll appeared in her hand. She unrolled it and held it high for all to see. "The Emperor officially signed executive and diplomatic powers to me yesterday. This makes me the de facto head of state. Meaning, I have the authority to pass judgment in cases like this. And here is the judgment I'm passing now."

She returned the scroll to wherever she conjured it from and turned to Meril, "You said you found this right? It's not yours?"

Meril nodded, "No, my thinking though is that it belongs to the Halfling we fished out of the river."

"Do you have evidence of this?"

Meril nodded, "not really like I said I just found it, and put two and two together."

"Ok, until we can confirm whether or not this purse belongs to the Halfling, I'll keep a hold of it." She bounced the purse in her hand and it disappeared in a green flash.

"But…my lady that's a month's worth of earnings for us," Mello cried.

"Calm yourself, minstrel, I'm not leaving you to starve. Dandelion, how good are they performance wise?"

"Well they're not anywhere near mine or Priscilla's level, but they are excellent instrumentalists none the less. I wouldn't let them play in my establishment if they weren't."

"In that case, I'll give the two of you a chance to earn your coin back," she said looking at Mello and Byorston.

"Three your highness," Byorston said.

"Beg pardon?"

Byorston reached into the crowd and forcefully pulled out a short slender girl. "Our band consists of three, me, Mello, and Sherry here."

"Very well the three of you. After my coronation today there will be a ball. Elites from all across the Empire will be in attendance. We've already booked an orchestra for the night, but they will need to be relieved periodically throughout the festivities. Think you can handle the gaps in between?"

Byorston began to answer slowly, "I don't think we're…"

Mello immediately cut him off, "if you would be so gracious as to accept humble minstrels such as ourselves your highness, we would be honored to play for you."

"Good to hear, if you do well tonight there will be a ducat handed to each of you."

"My lady you are far too kind," Mello bowed.

"Enough bowing, let's get this show on the road. I have a crown to wear and a throne to sit on. Priscilla, Dandelion get changed we leave immediately. The three of you will be coming with me as well."

"What about me?" Meril asked.

"What about you Witcher?" Ciri asked.

"Am I done here?" he asked unsurely

"It would seem so," she answered much more sure.

"So this is where we part ways then?"

Ciri nodded, "back to the path with you Witcher, and try to stay out of bar fights. Wouldn't be a very eventful career if the first new monster hunter in a century met his end from a bottle to the back of the head."

"I'm not too worried, I have a pretty thick skull," he answered with a grin before bowing to her, "I'll be taking my leave then your highness. I hope your reign is long and successful."

And with that, the rose haired Witcher turned around and left. After which, Ciri, Dandelion, Priscilla, the three musicians, and Zoltan alighted up the stairs to prepare for the coronation.

"You sure Geralt and Yennifer won't be there?" Dandelion asked.

"I invited them, but both Yen and Geralt agreed they had had enough of court intrigue and balls. They'll be watching though, from a safe distance via megascope," Ciri answered.

"Hmm, their loss," he shrugged. "They still in Toussaint?"

"No, they were getting a little too famous there for comfort, so they decided to disappear into the wilds for a bit. Not even I know where they are now."

"Good for them I say," Zoltan piped up, "the gods know those two have seen enough hell to last a dozen lifetimes. They've earned some peace and quiet."

"I'll raise a glass to that," Dandelion said, "Triss won't be there either right?"

Ciri nodded again, "Nilfgaard and Kovir aren't at war, but we're not on friendly terms either. I hope to change that soon though. There is much we can learn from Kovir's free-market policies. From what I can tell they're a bit too extreme to be applied to the empire as a whole, but with a bit of modification they'll go a long way towards improving the standard of living for everyone."

"Look at that not even wearing the crown yet, and she's already thinking like a ruler," Zoltan said with a laugh.

"Did you think I've spent these past five years sipping tea in a rose garden?" Ciri asked.

"Oh, that reminds me we should have another picnic in the rose garden when the baby is born," Priscilla chirped.

"You can count on it, now go get dressed," Ciri lightly shoved the two into their room. They closed the door behind them leaving Ciri, Zoltan, and the minstrels in the hall.

They stood quietly for a minute before Ciri broke the silence, "you sure you don't want to come Zoltan?"

Zoltan nodded, "someone has to stay and watch the shop, besides I hacked up too many Nilfgaardians at Brenna to be comfortable breaking bread with them."

"I understand," silence fell again before Ciri asked, "What are the odds of me running into that Witcher boy again?"

Zoltan chortled a throaty laugh, "knowing your luck lass, I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you end up in bed together."

"What's the supposed to mean?" Ciri demanded angrily.

"I'm just saying lass, you have a certain history when it comes to Witchers."

"I was raised and trained by them. It doesn't mean I'm attracted to them."

"Right, and I suppose you were staring at his finely toned rump when he made his way out purely for 'reasons of state,'" the dwarf said cackling maniacally.

"Why…I…I'm not…I wasn't…" the princess began to blush beet red. Just as she was about to hurl a flurry of insults at the laughing dwarf Dandelion and Priscilla exited their room.

"We're ready," Priscilla declared. Ciri stamped over to the couple and motioned to the minstrels to gather around here, they did so.

"Ah don't take it so hard lass, he was quite handsome as far as Witchers go," Zoltan teased between laughs.

"FUCK YOU ZOLTAN!" And with that, the party flashed out of existence.

A/N: Thank you all kindly for your patience. I know it's been awhile since the last update. I've been busy with school, but I'm still trying to my best to get these chapters out with regularity. With chapter 8 we are officially 2 chapters away from the end of the coronation arc. Once we're past chapter 10 things will really start to pick up so buckle in. And as always please leave a comment or review, that's what keeps me going.