Chapter 7: The Fall of Cintra

POV Ciri, 1263 20th of July

It was late at night, one of the few times Jon and Ciri had a break from training and could spend time together. Too tired to play, the pair simply talked in her room. Jon sitting near the window and Ciri on her bed. They were talking about their dreams, not goals, just dreams.

Jon still wanted to find his mother, even with all the things in his way, and become the most powerful ice mage ever. Mostly to impress her , Ciri knew he was scared of his mother's rejection. She didn't know why; she could never imagine not wanting Jon around. Why would his mother want to push him away?

Ciri wanted to be a witcher, as her nanny once said she was destined. She wanted to be free to as she wished, travel all the known world and beyond, maybe even other worlds. With Jon right next to her the whole way.

Jon was about to say something more when he glanced out the window. His eyes widening and a smile starting on his face, then his face turned grim. "Grandmother's back." his voice just as grim as his face.

"What's wrong, Jon?" she asked, growing worried.

"You'll see." he said, as he stood and walked out of the room. Only stopping to hold the door for her.

She slowly walked through, unsure. Then she and Jon made their way to the castle's gate and what they saw shook Ciri, who thought her grandmother unbeatable.

All that was left of Cintra's army was two hundred bloodied cavalrymen and her grandmother, every single person was injured in some way. Mostly arrows, some had blood seeping from the joints in their armour and other were holding limbs. Once she noticed Ciri and Jon, her grandmother quickly got off her horse, nearly falling in her haste, and limped over to them. Ciri was frozen at the sight, her strong grandmother, warrior queen Calanthe, was limping with three arrows in her. Two in her right thigh and one in her shoulder, somehow going right through her pauldron.

Her grandmother swiftly reached them and kneeled down on her good leg, before pulling her and Jon into a tight hug. "I'm here." she whispered. "I'm her...e", she repeated, before passing out.

Ciri didn't know what to do, but thankfully, Jon did. "Yoanna," he said, his voice seemed deeper than usual. "get two guards and bring grandmother to her room, then have master Mousesack see to her." Ciri saw the maid bow and follow his orders out of the corner of her eye, barely feeling her grandmother's arms being pried off of her. "Mara," he continued "bring all the injured men to the barracks and have the other maids see to their injuries as best they can, when you run out of space you can bring the remainder to bed in the great hall." when he finished, the maid hesitated. "Go." Jon said, and she did.

Jon turned to the nearest guard, "Have all the guards prepare for a siege."

Ciri was in shock the whole time, just looking at her hands. Barely following what was happening, until she felt Jon gently grab her by the elbows and turn her towards him. He spoke gently and told her "Ciri..." she looked up at him, "Grandmother's going to need us soon... come on." then he led her back into the castle.

POV Jon

The Nilfgaardians attacked that very night, they came with fire and steel killing everyone they came across, judging from the sounds. Jon could see the flames and hear the screams from the window, the rain doing little to mute either. Queen Calanthe, Ciri and Mousesack were in the room with him. Ciri was holding grandmother's hand on her uninjured side, waiting for her to wake.

Mousesack finally leaned back, his blood covered hands moving from Calanthe's now cleaned and binded wounds to rest in his lap. "I've done all a can, princess." Mousesack told Ciri, his voice gentler than usual and somewhat weary.

"When will she wake?" Jon asked him, still looking to the city. They were getting closer, senseless slaughter only slowed them so much. Jon hated the Nilfgaardians, not for conquering of course, but for the killing of innocents. It reminded him too much of one of the few stories his father told him about the rebellion; the sack of Kingslanding.

"Knowing her grace? Soon." his master answered, cleaning his hands in a wash basin and joining him at the window.

"I don't see any siege equipment." Jon said, turning his face to the druid.

Mousesack hummed, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath though his nose. Sensing for mages. After a moment, he paled. "What is it?" Jon asked, frightened. He had never seen his master like this.

"Mages." he said. "So many of them, most are weak, but the sheer numbers..." he trailed of, but Jon didn't need him to finish. He understood and turned back to look out the window.

He could see a large portion of the enemy army reach the castle wall's gate; they were dressed differently than the rest, fully hooded black robes adorned with gold. Must be the mages , he thought, full of dread and morbid curiosity. Wondering what exactly they will do.

He watched as a dozen mages in the front started glowing and though he couldn't feel it from here, he knew it must be a searing heat. Then, when the flame reached an almost blinding level, the black clad mages launched it at the gate. The fire ball ripped through the gate and wall like an arrow through parchment. Melting everything even close to it, before crashing into the keep's enchanted doors. Dispersing instantly, the anti-magic field doing its job.

Then his grandmother woke up.

POV Calanthe

Jon finished explaining the situation and her decision was made.

"You must flee, Ciri." she told her granddaughter.

"I can't leave you!" her stubborn girl shouted.

"You will." her voice felt so weak. "I will only slow you down." she hopped it didn't sound like it.

"Grandmothe-" Jon started,

"Think Jon... think. For a moment." she stopped him.

And he did, for slightly more than a moment. Then, he said the very first curse she ever heard him say "Fuck."

"You know I'm right, Jon." she said, her sea-green eyes boring into his dark steel pair.

"No! she isn't!" Ciri tried.

"Ciri, she is." Jon said, sounding so very defeated.

Calanthe slowly turned her head to the only guard in the room and ordered him to "Take Ciri to her horse and gather five of the least injured cavalrymen." and he did so, taking her granddaughter away kicking and struggling.

"Jon." she said, not enough energy to turn her head.

"Yes, grandmother." he said.

"You must take Ciri to Geralt of Rivia, a witcher. He will take you two in and keep you safe." she told him, with conviction. Knowing that she couldn't stall it any longer.

Jon turned to leave, but even without seeing, she could tell his grim mask was crumbling. She suddenly felt she had to tell him something, she never said to anyone before, "Jon," he stopped, without turning. "I'm proud of you." then he left.

POV Jon

Jon, I'm proud of you.

Why did grandmother have to say that. He let himself cry for a brief moment, over the loss of another family member, but quickly pulled himself together. Now is not the time, he told himself. Ciri needs me.

So, he rushed to the underground stables. By rooms and rooms of women poisoning their children, husbands killing their wives and then themselves. All to avoid being taken alive, brutal death, or a fate worse than that. Jon wanted to help them, but they could only make it out unnoticed, hopefully, with a small group.

He exited the keep quietly from the back, all the enemy soldiers were too focused on the front doors and the rain helped to obscure him from view. Then made his way to the dry well and climbed down, mentally telling Gwyn to meet him at the exit.

Once he got down, he ran to join the men trying to get Ciri on the horse. "Ciri," he called,

"Ciri..." he grabbed her by the elbows, forcing her to turn towards him. "We have to go, we have to find Geralt of Rivia. He'll keep you safe."

"But, Jon-"

"No!" he said, raising his voice against her for the first, and hopefully last, time. "Ciri, everyone in the keep and city are dead or soon to be. I won't let you join them, we're going."

This hard fact seemed to convince her, if only slightly.

Ciri climbed on the small horse the men were trying to put her on and waited for everyone else. The men mounted their own steeds, coursers, and Jon got on his own small horse. When the whole group was saddled and ready, they started down the tunnel heading north. It was narrow and poorly lit with a light incline, so they could only ride one at a time and slowly, but the group made good time reaching the end of the tunnel.

At the end of the tunnel was a well-made wall, built of large stone blocks and on the adjacent wall, to the right, was a large lever. The lead man pulled it with a grunt of effort and the stone wall in front of the started sinking into the ground. The top of the wall eventually became level with the ground, revealing the market square. The small group rushed out of the tunnel and assumed formation. Jon and Ciri side by side in the middle, one man in the front, one in back and two to each side.

They raced through the square and onto the northward main street, the people on this side of Cintra hadn't yet been put to the sword and the buildings were unburnt. The man in front had to yell people out of their way out of the city, some fleeing citizens jumping out of the way of their horses. Jon soon felt Gwyn flying above him.

Cintra was never a large city, but they still couldn't make it out quickly. They were midway to the end of the city when they heard horses behind them. They were fast, faster than their own, judging by the curses around him. The group only managed to reach the secondary square when the pursuers caught up with them.

With a cry of "Protect the princess!" the men stopped and turned to face the enemy and Jon got a good look at them. There were five of them, one of which had a winged helm. The leader, he supposed. They all wore the black steel plate and wielded their secondary weapons: three swords, one axe and a mace. The men around him and Ciri pulled out their swords and hefted their shields, while moving in between Ciri and the enemy. Then, with a battle cry, the Nilfgaardians crashed into the Cintran cavalrymen.

POV Gwyn

Gwyn was perched on a rooftop near his mother and father. He found it odd that they simply watched the shelled humans bash each other with sticks and shiny talons. Is it for fun? He wondered, Gwyn sometimes watched others fight for amusement, but not when he was in danger because of it. Then he realised that his parents have never been in this situation before. Others fighting, dying, while they're at risk. Mother and father are simply confused, they don't know what to do, he concluded.

The shelled humans fought, then one with the shiny shell lost and fell of his horse. The black shelled human then moved to mother, reaching out a... What did father call it? A hand? Yes. A hand. The black shelled human reached out a hand to mother. Father was looking at this and it seemed he realised what to do. Which stopped Gwyn from having to see how his talons would get under the human's shell.

Gwyn felt a burst of cold air coming from his father and watched as the rain around his father froze and stopped falling. The fighting shelled humans didn't notice this, but the one near mother did. It stopped moving and stared at father. Gwyn, mother and the shelled human watched as the small pieces of ice came together and formed five clear, and sharp, icicles. Then they shot towards the shelled human, nearly blurring in Gwyn's vision, and ripped through the human's shell and the horse's hide.

As father passed out from exhaustion, Gwyn felt something stirring in his body. It felt like when father took control of his body, but it was different. It was cold and made Gwyn feel stronger. Then he felt something in his talons and when he looked, he saw that they had changed slightly. They were larger and the tips had turned frost blue.

Turning his attention back to mother and father, he saw that mother has started moving. She almost fell off her horse and rushed over to father, catching his unconscious form as he fell from his own horse. Once she had a firm grip, mother dragged father into an alley to hide.

The rest of the shelled humans kept fighting and, one by one, they lost. Until the human with the wings on his head was the only one left. It quickly found mother's hiding spot, leapt of his horse and reached over to grab her. Mother scrambled back, clutching at father and let out a cry. It was powerful, the sound seemed to echo and Gwyn felt a wave pass over him. Then she passed out. At this point, Gwyn saw it was pointless to do anything. Someone had to get mother and father away from the fire, and they were far too heavy him to carry.

The shelled human grabbed mother and father, then threw them both on his horse them climbed unto it himself. Gwyn followed the three as the shelled human rode out and away from the fires that were closing in.

POV Meage Mormont, 292 AC

"Are you sure you want to leave?" Ned asked her.

"Aye, I can't stomach your wife's... 'southern tendencies' anymore." Maege told him "All her 'Father' this and 'Mother' that, thinking that we're a bunch of heretics, or 'True ladies don't fight'. I can't be around her and not want to break her nose." She also didn't want the children to see their two mother figures fighting. It wouldn't be good for them, forcing them to choose and pit them against each other. Maege won't let that happen.

Maege knew it grated on Ned that his wife was like that, he had lost that accepting part of him towards her since the 'incident', but Lord Stark had to have her here.

After young Robb's heavy fever, only a year after Tully's departure, Lord Stark realised that needed a spare. So, he called her back and not ten moons later he had one and decided to keep his wife in Winterfell, but leave the managing of the castle to the housekeeper, Vayon.

Ned sighed heavily, then straightened up and turned into Lord Stark. "Very well, Lady Mormont. Your request is approved. Five of your house guard will remain with your daughter, the Lady Lyanna Mormont. The rest will return with you to Bear Island. You are to leave as soon as you are able. Dismissed." Lord Stark said.

Lady Mormont gave a quick bow and a "My Lord.", then left the solar.

Maege thought on what to do first, I'll give the news to Lyanna, she decided. She made her way to the Godswood, where she knew her girl and young Arya would be playing in the snow, Arya loved the snow. It had even been her first word, the second being 'stupid'. Though Maege doubted the girl had known the meaning of the word, at the time.

The two girls had been thick as thieves since they could both walk or wrestle, whichever had come first. On the way there she passed the main courtyard and saw Sansa sitting on a bench. She had a needle and thread, as usual, and seemed to be practising her embroidery skills. May as well tell her first.

Maege walked over to the little lady and sat down next to her. Sansa paused and quickly looked up from her embroidery. "Aunty?" she asked. Maege had asked her to call her that, when they had first met.

"I came to tell you, pup. That I'll be leaving Winterfell soon." the older woman told her.

The young girl's eyes widened slightly, before asking "Why? Was mother mean to you?" Smart girl, for six, must be remembering, but I can't confirm that.

Maege chuckled and put on a false smile made for children, "No, I just have to go see my other girls."

"Will you come back?" she pleaded, while pulling out her puppy eyes.

"Only to visit." at that Sansa looked down sadly, then furrowed her brows slightly. Maege gave a sad sigh as she wrapped an arm around the girl and squeezed Sansa's little form into her side. Then said, "I must go tell the others, will you be alright?"

"Yes aunty..." the pup hesitated for a second, then asked "May we go to the Godswood together? The day you leave that is."

"Of course, we can. The morning I leave." this prompted a smile from Sansa and Maege, gave her a smile and stood from the bench. Then continued to the Godswood.

Entering the holy woods, Maege was fearful. The reason for this was that Lya and Arya had recently discovered the joys of throwing snow at people and often ambushed the she-bear. Pulling her into snowball fights.

Maege quickly found the two building a snow soldier and arguing over how big it should be. Arya noticed Maege first and cried out "BEAR" then ran over. Lyanna quickly joined her and the two each claimed one of Maege's legs with a, well, bear-hug.

Maege eventually pried the two off and explained that she was leaving. They both got teary eyed, but they're tough girls and took it well. Especially when Maege said she'd visit soon.

Maege left the Godswood feeling even sadder than when she entered and she wondered if she was doing the right thing.

POV Catelyn

Cat hummed a hymn as she walked through one of Winterfell's many halls, that savage of a woman had finally gotten the message and departed from her castle. Catelyn couldn't have any bad influences around. So, she positively bubbly. Cat just hoped Mormont hadn't done irreparable damage to her daughters. That the two of them could still make good ladies and be able to marry good husbands.

As she continued walking, Cat thought on her daughters. Sansa is good, though her thinking is getting bit mannish. Might intimidate suiters. Arya could prove difficult, but she's still young and will most likely grow out of roughhousing.

Catelyn kept walking and started thinking on a plan.