Chapter 5: Adventures in Skellige

POV Jon, 1258

Jon was astounded, yes everyone from his Grandmother, Queen Calanthe, to the maids told him that the seasons in Cintra only lasted around three moons, but it wasn't until he saw leaves fall that it finally sunk in. Three moons! How do they get anything done!

It was then, in autumn, that Jon and Ciri decided to teach Gwyn to fly. After asking Mousesack how to do so, the pair rushed to find the nearest tall tree.

Once they found one, an oak, Ciri climbed it. Gwyn's brown, feathered form perched on her shoulder. "Ready Jon?" Ciri asked, cradling Gwyn in her skinny arms with her legs around a branch of middling height. Jon was about twenty feet away, arms outstretched and ready to catch the, hopefully, gliding eagle.

After whispering in his ear, Ciri threw Gwyn. The bird quickly spread his wings and flew, well glided, the whole twenty feet. It was glorious, right until he crashed into Jon's head. Much to Ciri's delight.

Once Gwyn stopped flailing and the princess of Cintra stopped laughing, Jon and Ciri switched places. Jon now on the branch and Ciri waiting in the fallen leaves. Once Jon had secured himself, he placed Gwyn at the end of the branch and quickly warged into the young bird.

It wasn't the first time he'd taken Gwyn's skin as his own, Mousesack had him start doing so only days after he had received the newly hatched white-tailed eagle. At first, Jon could only stay in the bird, or any feathered creature, for a dozen minutes before he started losing himself. Forcing Mousesack to use a weak lightning spell to shock him back into his own body. Now though, he could easily spend hours waddling around in Gwyn.

Gwyn and Jon were perched as far on the branch as they could, focusing their razor-sharp eyes on Ciri. They took a breath and jumped. This was the very first time Jon has ever flown in a bird's skin, he wanted to wait until Gwyn could fly, and it was amazing. The wind passing under and over their feathers. It was so incredibly liberating, Jon and Gwyn let out a screech of joy. It ended far too soon for both their liking.

They landed easily onto Ciri's outstretched arm and proceeded to shuffle along to her shoulder. Once safe and secure on Gwyn's favorite spot, Jon passed back to his own body. The first thing he heard with his own ears was Ciri asking him how it was. "It was... incredible. Like when Grampa Eist brought us cliff jumping, but... different." he said, breathless.

After that first practise day, Jon and Ciri would bring Gwyn to the tree every night after dinner and after one week Gwyn could fly from tree to tree. After three, he could fly freely for a dozen minutes at a time. By the time the very first snowflake hit the ground, he could fly for an hour.

POV Calanthe

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Mousesack?" she asked, pointedly.

"I'm certain, your grace." he answered, fully confident.

"You want to send her back there?" she continued.

"With Jon, your grace." he offered.

"That only makes it slightly better." she said, with extra emphasis on "Slightly".

"It will be good for them, your grace." he finished.

Calanthe looked to Mousesack, he already had a raised brow ready for her. She raised hers in response. They stared at each other, Calanthe sighed. She's lost.

The queen looked over to the nearest guard and ordered him to "Bring Eist.", a few moments pass and her husband finally enters her study. "You wanted to see me, love." he said, walking behind her and placing his strong yet gentle hands on her shoulders. She let out a hum. "You will be brining Ciri and Jon with you to Skellige." she told him.

"Really? I thought you'd want to keep her close longer." he said, as he started to knead her stiff shoulders.

"I do, but this is whats best for her. The men wont respect her is she was only raised in a castle." she returned, pushing her head back. Into his lower abdominals.

"And, she'd get to spend time with more of her family." he said, with emphasis on the and. Putting more strength into his hands. Forcing a small moan from her lips.

"Yes, that."

Eist then brought his head down to hers and whispered into her ear, "If you're certain, then they must pack quickly. I set sail this afternoon." he finished his sentence with a bite to her earlobe.

She turned her head to Mousesack. "See to it Mousesack, Eist and I will stay here to... pass the time."

Mousesack swiftly nodded and made his escape. Once the druid was good and gone, Calanthe stood and fisted Eist's collar roughly, "You dare treat your queen so." she growled, like the lion her people, and enemies, call her.

"I merely wish to please you, your grace." he said teasingly.

She chuckled darkly, before turning around and slamming Eist's back onto her dark oak desk "I must punish your foolishness then." she breathed as a lust filled grin took over her face. Eist returned it with one of his own.

A great way to pass time

POV Jon

It took only two and a half days for his adoptive grandfather's longship to get to Kaer Trolde's harbour. The trip was uneventful, although for most of the first day Grampa Eist had an odd grin that seemed to be carved into his face. During the day, Jon and Ciri mostly talked, her telling him about Ard Skellig and her family there: her Uncle Crach, her cousins Hjalmar and Cerys. At night he would practice his warging before going to sleep.

Ciri's extended family met them on the docks. Crach greeted them first, he grasped fore arms with Grampa Eist, gave Ciri a bone crushing hug and ruffled Jon's dark hair. Then came an older boy Jon guessed to be Hjalmar, he greeted Jon simply and gave Ciri a hug that Jon felt went on for slightly too long. After him, a girl slightly younger than Ciri and himself hugged Ciri with a whispered hello. When she turned to Jon he kissed her knuckles instinctually, (not noticing her blush) he doubted he would ever break away from giving such greetings. Lady Catelyn made certain the lesson got through.

When he looked to Ciri, he noticed her squinting at him. "What?" he asked, confused. Ciri looked at him for another second before saying "Nothing." and turned to walk the path to the keep, behind Eist, Crach and Hjalmar. Jon hot on her heals. Cerys on his.

POV Gwyn, 1259

Gwyn always loved it when father and mother brought him to the snowy forests, but getting here forced him to spend days on that odd man log. Which disgusted him, but it was worth it. There was always such tasty prey here. This was the third time they've come.

Mother and father were hunting with him today, they were carrying their death throwing stringed sticks, standing and talking to some humans. Gwyn was circling over them when he noticed the two run off, then he felt his father's mind reach out to his own, and take control of his right eye. Changing its colour from the usual amber to steel grey. We're looking for deer, he heard his father tell him. Gwyn screeched his acceptance and began searching.

POV Jon

"Let's make this a little more interesting." Hjalmar suggested.

"How?" Ciri asked, while fiddling with the hunting knife Jon had given her for her nameday.

"We turn this hunt into a competition and make bets." Hjalmar said, smirking. Gods, I hate the way he smirks.

"What kind of bets?" Ciri asked, clearly intrigued.

"If Cerys and I win, Jon wears a dress for tonight's feast." he said, pointing to Jon.

"And if we win, you do the same." Ciri returned, a small smile on her lips.

After a moment, they both said, "Deal.".

Then Jon finally spoke, "Well then, when do we start?"

"On three."

"One..."

"Two..." then Hjalmar and Cerys ran.

"Filthy cheaters!" Ciri yelled, "Come on, Jon! If they're gonna be like that, let's use Gwyn!"

A swift nod and he sent a part of himself up to Gwyn. Jon's right eye rolled back into his head, it was an odd feeling. To partially warg into an animal. It was a momentary loss of feeling in whichever part you're sending and then it is replaced with another's. Smell is the easiest, hearing is disorienting until you get used to it and sight gives you head aches when you don't have enough practise.

Jon's sight in his right eye went dark for only a moment before it was replaced by Gwyn's, along with a screech confirming his earlier message to look for deer. "See anything yet?" Ciri asked him.

"Just trees so far, Gwyn's heading for a clearing..." Jon waited for a few seconds, spruce trees blurring by. Until, "There, he's found a small herd to the northwest."

"Any good ones?" she asked excitedly.

Jon sent another thought to Gwyn, to have him circle them. After two cycles, Jon's left eye and Gwyn's right eye widened. "Six tines!" he told her, in a high tone.

"Six!?"

Jon nodded quickly.

"Let's find good spots then."

Another nod and they separated before running towards the highest two bushes they could see. Once she was in place, Ciri sent him the signal; a long piercing whistle. Jon sent his response, two short whistles, to show his confirmation. He then gave Gwyn the order to herd the rare buck to the space between his and Ciri's positions.

Gwyn's first strike was brought down by a short dive, a long gash along the beast's rump sent it speeding away south east. The deer sprinted away from him, trying to lose the big eagle in the trees, but Gwyn's larger than normal frame slipped gracefully between the trunks, over and under the branches after it. Whenever the buck would slow or start to turn, Gwyn would let out a fierce shriek. Scaring it in the right direction or hastening it.

Soon, Jon and Ciri could hear his occasional cries clearer and clearer. And soon Jon could see both himself and his royal companion through the eagle. Once he did, he quickly brought that part of himself back to his body. "He's almost here!" he called to her.

"Use the signals, Jon!" she chastised.

Jon sighed, and sent a long whistle to her. Which she answered with two short ones.

They waited until they heard the buck crashing through the underbrush. When they did, the pair did the usual: Jon using his stronger arms to aim farther back and Ciri using her superior reflexes and aim, waiting until Jon hit the buck to weaken it, to give it the finishing shot to the neck. In the sweet spot right behind the jaw.

Once Jon thought it close enough, he drew. It only took more one second for the deer to enter his sights. When it did, his eyes locked onto its rushing form and he loosed the arrow. Jon watched as it ripped through the air and into the deer's flank. Forcing out a pained cry and making it stumble.

Just as the buck was regaining its balance, Jon saw Ciri's arrow sprout from its neck. Right behind the jaw.

"Yes!" He heard her shout.

"Son of a bitch." Hjalmar groused when he saw their buck. While Cerys simply stared in shock, mouth agape.

Jon and Ciri had been waiting for them where they made the bet. Ciri laying against their buck's blood covered side, looking at the arriving pair with a smirk, and Jon sitting on a rock nearby, somber faced.

"That's a cute doe you got there." Ciri said, smug as can be.

"How the fuck did you do that!" Hjalmar demanded, Cerys just now coming out of her shock to glare at them questioningly.

Ciri answered by pointing her thumb at Gwyn, who was pecking at the gash he made earlier. Eating his fill.

Then Cerys finally spoke, "You know what this means, brother."

"Shit."

POV Ciri

She, Cerys and Hjalmar's mother, Irna, planned to present the new lady an Craite at the feast that was being thrown that very night. Hjalmar was to wear a classic ball gown. The two girls and woman had spent hours agonizing over picking the right, and admittedly gorgeous, dress and making the right adjustments for Hjalmar's frame.

The dress they chose had a base of purple silk with whirl designs of silver velvet stitched onto the sleeves, chocker and bodice. The chocker that was tied around Hjalmar's thick neck had a very prominent gold heart pin in the very center. The sleeves were each held in place by two gold rings, one around his middle finger and one just under his shoulder. The bodice's silver whirls were accentuated gold beads stitched along their borders. This all left his shoulders and upper chest and back exposed. The skirt was a lighter purple than the rest of the dress and poofed to thrice Hjalmar's width. He even had Ciri's tiara on top of his red locks, which was quite pretty. Even though she never wore it anyway.

The reactions were the best part though.

Hjalmar had tried to sneak into the feast, but he was seen almost instantly. By his father, who spat out his mead in shock, all over the man he had been talking to. Then the rest of the men did the same. After all the men loosed their mead, the feast fell silent. So much so, that you could hear a pin drop. Then, one at a time, everyone broke out in roaring laughter. Turning Hjalmar's face beet red.

The whole feast was a blast, it was by far the best one Ciri had ever been a part of.

_1262_

Jon was a natural ice skater. From the very first time he put steel to ice, it was like he became one with it. Though his weapon of choice probably helps, Claymores use a lot of momentum to be used properly, after all.

When she asked him if he had done it before his answer was both simple and infuriating, "No. Never." he said, but the way he said it and the innocent face kept her from staying mad at him. Ciri could never truly stay mad at Jon. Even if she'd never let him know that.

"Ciri." Jon softly called, pulling her from her thoughts. His voice was always like that with her and cold with almost everyone else.

"Hmm? What did you say Jon?" she asked.

Jon smiled and sighed before repeating himself, "I was asking you what they were doing.", pointing somewhere behind her.

By spinning in place, she turned around to see what Jon was talking about and she saw her cousin Hjalmar and his friends jumping over rocks while skating. Seeing this, Ciri immediately wanted to join them. "Come on, Jon. Let's go beat whoever's wining." she said, before skating to the group of boys. She hears Jon follow behind her, and can easily imagine his lightly furrowed brow, making her break out her signature grin at his disgruntlement. The smile she always seemed to have around Jon.

"Hey, Hjalmar! Whose wining?!" she yelled, once she and Jon were in earshot.

"Why, me of course! 10 jumps!" He yelled, chest puffed out.

"Not for long!" She announced. Then, to add to Jon's disgruntlement (she hoped/expected), she added "Come on Jon!".

She gasped, then blushing furiously when he quickly picked her up princess style and proceeded to beat Hjalmar's record by five stones.

POV Crach

Crach laughed his ass off at how his niece's teasing bit her back instantly. The two were so cute, even at ten they were so enamored with each other. The best part was that neither realised and for his amusement's sake, he hopes they don't for a while yet. At least until they're sixteen.

It had been long and hard for him and Eist to convince Calanthe that adding the boy's, seemingly easy to use, inborn magic was a better long-term gain than any short-lasting political gain for her line. So, she agreed that she wouldn't make any engagements for Ciri.

Oh, but it was worth it. It was like when he read one of Irna's funny romance novels, the protagonists would dance around each other before eventually falling deeply in love. And now, with no engagements in the way, forcing the relationship to develop faster like in that book, he can enjoy watching them. Did he just jinx it? Will something get in the way? Hopefully not.