This chapter is for a change from Ciri's perspective because why not? I have 8 characters and I'll do my best to let them all speak. I'd like to apologize to everyone who was waiting for this update. There were some major obstacles on the way but hopefully it's truly resolved now. I'd like to thank Bellum Gerere and SilverIcefire for their priceless help.

The day was coming to its end. A heavy with gold disk of the sun stained the sky orange and made the snow-covered hills appear almost blue. The cold wind pushed the soft fluff from one corner of the glen to the other, dabbed the already-frostbitten cheeks, played a peaceful song at the branches of spruces and firs. Ciri wrapped her coat tighter. Her fingers ridged from the cold dealt with the task with great exertion. She did not care.

"Can't wait for the dinner," she directed to Nenneke who rode on the steed on Kelpie's right. "Ham cooked on the rotisserie over an open hickory wood fire… Beer and cider… Maybe some honey cakes." The woman smiled at the remark, her face was unnaturally pink and hardly visible from beneath the beret and thick layers of woollen scarves.

She looked back. Avallac'h and his mare seemed completely resistant to the cold. The elf was still in his usual outfit, his head not protected by anything other than a thin fabric of the hood. He looked content. He always was. Even in the very middle of rocky Zerrikanian desert where she came across him three months earlier.

"I'm so glad you agreed to join us, Nenneke" she added. "Boys really need it after Vesemir-"

"I know, Ciri."

She looked away, suddenly unable to face the archpriestess and the topic of their conversation. Their horses at last wriggled out of the tall and narrow gulch in which they had been stuck in for what seemed eternity. The world around felt a bit brighter and then became as greyish as usual. She reached once more for the metal harness of the saddle from which two small rabbits hung- their dinner if they wouldn't make it on time.

"Still can't believe Eskel moved out," she recommenced after a long pause. "Lambert's with Keira. Geralt plays a gardener in Toussaint. Something ends; already ended."

She looks absolutely radiant, reflected Ciri when Triss and Eskel went down the stairs. A simple, floor-length dress in dark shade of blue delicately accented the sorceress' pale skin and chestnut-brown hair. Her hair while shorter than usual, coiled and formed fat curls, and made her look only more sensual. Elegance and modesty. And happiness. Without a shadow of doubt, Triss beamed with happiness.

"Excuse us being late. Someone could not decide on the dress," informed Eskel as he moved the chair for the enchantress. She took a seat across the witcheress, smiling from ear to ear. Not at her however. Her eyes constantly looked for Eskel's. "And where are Nenneke and Yennefer?"

Geralt cleared his throat. "Upstairs, I believe. Yen pestered Ciri for being irresponsible. Now in turn, Nenneke accuses Yennefer of being overprotective. Hard to tell who is right. Far-sightedly, Ciri, Avallac'h and I decided to hide in here. Would give much to know where Lambert left. Haven't seen him since the breakfast."

"We've seen him an hour ago," pointed out the elf, glancing into his chalice of mulled wine. "In the stables. He begged me and Zireael to go hunting with him tomorrow. We rejected. Alcohol and weapons is never a good combination," he paused. "Maybe we should. I haven't done it in ages."

"This is precisely why you shouldn't," advised him Triss. Eskel affirmed with a single nod.

"Maybe we all should go?" Geralt butted into. "We always used to. Every single Yule. Wouldn't hurt to leave one thing how it used to be. Tradition and respect for old values. Besides boar tastes way better than pork."

"I've never hunted before but why not?" commented Triss. "Eskel what do you think?"

"Don't know. Would need to wake up early. It's cold, and-"

They never learned what Eskel wanted to say. In the dining hall appeared Nenneke; a step behind her, with a sour expression on her face was Yennefer. They are at loggerheads with each other again, thought Ciri, almost like then in Ellander. The memory of days far gone brought a smile to her face.

And then something else happened. Eskel, who hadn't had yet a chance to greet the archpriestess, rose from his seat, and without a word ran into the woman's arms. They stood like this for a very long moment. Nenneke whispered something in his ear. He listened. Then they both took their spots by the table. Silently. Casually. She swore she heard the witcher sniffle.

"Oh my, so many delicacies," murmured Nenneke, drying her cheek with the sleeve of her gown.

Attracted by the smell of roasted meat, also emerged Lambert. However his greeting with Nenneke was limited to unambiguous stares. Before long, they were ready to start.

"Great Goodness Melitele," articulated Nenneke, with her hands above the plethora of meat pies, sausages, greens mixed salads and candied fruits. The main dinner was not until tomorrow, but Yennefer succeeded in making today's feast imposing. "We beg you to bless the meal we're about to eat. May the good luck and abundance never leave this household and the ones who consume it."

"Sounds a bit forced," remarked Lambert, applying to his plate a sound slice of duck in oranges. On the other one, he had already built a pyramid of cheese turnovers. "Yule is an elven celebration as far as I remember. Linked with the Wild Hunt or something. Ask our friend if you want. Melitele has nothing to do with it; not that she would have anyway. She would need to be real first."

"You don't need to eat if you don't want to," said Yennefer in a way that ceased any disputations. "Geralt, pass me the mushroom soup, please. You need to try some too. It's pure bronze bolete."

"Thank you. Maybe later. I want to try some duck before that pig Lambert guzzles it all. He ate all of the honey cakes yesterday. Apparently, sharing is not one of his virtues."

"I was hungry and they were the very first thing I came across."

"I bet they were."

The full at first table emptied with an amazing speed, only to be filled up with glasses of wine: the very first wine Geralt made in Corvo Bianco. A lonely harp in the corner of the room decorated the conversations with its festive tunes, completely on its own. Whose spell brought it to life, none of the assembled knew.

"Famous Sepremento then," whispered Triss with her nose close to the glass. "The scent is nice. Fruity and fresh. A little bit like strawberries. No, raspberry. Oh goodness, it tastes even better. Did you really make it yourself?"

Geralt frowned. "Not exactly. Barnabas-Basil Foulty, my major-domos made it, " he replied, imitating Triss actions with his own glass. Ciri in turn decided to keep the drinking etiquette to a minimum. Very minimum. Luckily for her, she spotted Yennefer's fervent gaze afterwards. "I just happen to own the place. Does it still taste of magic? Frankly, I was really concerned when Yennefer decided to help the grapevines grow faster. Five years in just one season? Sounds doubtable."

"But tastes amazing," replied the enchantress and poured herself another, this time a bigger portion of the liquor. Ciri took another sip from her own glass and once more failed to fathom Triss' fascination. "Good decision, Yenna. Not to mention, the performance. It requires subtlety, persistence and a bit of talent. My congratulations. Not that it surprised me. You were always good at similar things. The collection of avian peons to start with."

Yennefer did not reply to the complement; she hadn't exchanged a word with the other sorceress for the entire evening. It was understandable, but so was Triss' obsessive attempts to start a conversation. The uneasy, albeit completely foreseeable silence filled up the room.

"Ciri, I heard you slave wyverns these days," started Eskel. His attempt to break the ice was blatant but somehow touching.

Ciri looked at the man. A shadow of smile creeped through her face. "I'm not a wyvern slayer. Far from it," she admitted and reached for a fresh jug of spiced cider - a distraction from the sudden outburst of pride. She needed to compose herself. One, fat female would likely astonish nobody but her. "Yes, I recently killed one in the Kestrel Mountains. A pretty big one. They didn't pay much but a mage in Pont Vanis needed badly bone marrow and eggs. I happened to possess both."

"How much did he pay you?"

"Skip it, Lambert," said Geralt a bit too emotionally.

"It wasn't that bad," said Ciri. "Five hundreds bizants for five eggs and a vial of bone marrow. Dammit. He offered another five for scales. It's easy to be wise after the event."

"It wasn't too bad anyways." The youngest of the witchers nodded.

"And I thought they would be completely useless. Looks like the star of prosperity shines on me this Yule."

"Prosperity?" Yennefer interrupted. Through her clenched teeth, words sounded almost like barking of a wolf. "The wyvern was close to killing you. Your right trapezius muscle was in pieces. Avallac'h and Nenneke did a terrific job putting it back together, but it's not enough. That muscle supports the weight of the arm, rotates and depresses the scapula. Do you have any idea how important that function is? What can happen if it's not working properly."

"You explained it to her and surely will do that again," said the archpriestess in a calm but in the same time intolerant manner. The enchantress challenged with her gaze but the woman did not yield even a little. Yennefer did. "Give it a rest for goodness' sake. She's not a baby anymore."

"You-"

"I have no right. That's what you wanted to say. It's none of your business either. She's a grown up and can do what she wants. She chose to be a witcher. Your role is to accept it. You don't need to agree with it, but keep it to yourself. End of the story."

"I won't. The wyvern almost left her handicapped-"

"And riding a horse can cause head injuries. Will you forbid her that as well? You can't avoid risk in your life, Yennefer. Your tormenting makes it only more likely to happen. She's distracted and tired."

Yennefer sighed loudly but did not reply. For a very long moment, she was silent. Ciri spotted how a heavy, glittering drop of blood drained from her nose and hung for a good moment down from its tip. The sorceress dried it with her napkin. Another three emerged in return.

"I'm fine," she snorted, holding the fabric against her skin. "You want to applaud her every stupid idea, your choice. I have no intention to and I'll make sure she knows what I think about it. Besides, please spare me similarly ridiculous analogies. Horse riding is lethal? Just as lethal as being a witcher? Name one witcher that died in his own bed. What a surprise you cannot."

"Karsten of Rakverelin. Sweet urine disease damaged his kidneys," replied the archpriestess. Yennefer's eyes begun to gleam with violet flame. "I want to help," added Nenneke, much more sensitively now. "Because what you do doesn't make sense to me. You fail to acknowledge she's not a child anymore. I know you had little time together and you're trying to compensate that, but it's not right. You need to build a more mature relationship. Like an adult with an adult."

The sorceress chuckled and came back to her plate. For some undefined reason the mushroom soup from her bowl did not want to vanish. "I'll keep that in mind. Great advice. Thanks a lot."

"You'll thank me one day. You just don't see it now, but you will. I'm sure of that. And excuse my bluntness but I think you should take in another child. An infant maybe. You'll get married soon. There's no reason why not to. Just think about it, tiny feet and rosy cheeks. I'd organise everything."

"You're out of line, Nenneke!"

"It would take your mind off Ciri for a while," continued the archpriestess as if the screaming did not reach her ears. "First, your encounter in Novigrad. What were you trying to achieve? Now, the letters few times a day. No point denying it. I've seen your pace when she was in Ellander. She just replied and the bird with your reply was already waiting on the windowsill. Such care often doesn't help. It almost suffocates."

"Suffocates?" hissed Yennefer. A rusty spot on her napkin grew bigger again. "She's my daughter. She needs attention. I'm trying to reach to her, that's all. If my company was a balk would she stand it so patiently? Ciri do you want me to get off your back?"

Ciri didn't reply. Not sure why, but she didn't. In a blink of an eye, she begun to feel like a doe which spotted the eyes of its predator in the endless greenery. The crippling cold pulsed in her veins. The fear paralyzed. The only thing she could do was to wait for an arrow or a teeth to touch her skin and the piercing pain that followed it.

The sorceress' spoon touched the bottom of the bowl gently. "Alright then," she whispered. She seemed calm but the girl sensed the anger boiling underneath like hot iron, the unnatural way in which the muscles of her face twitched. The time slowed down. Yennefer pressed the blood-stained napkin harder to her nostrils. Without a word. Without a single sound of disappointment or irritation, she rose from her seat and left the room. The arrowhead reached Ciri's heart.

"I don't know what this fuss is about," mumbled Yennefer as she wiped her upper lip with a wet cloth. Her nose had stopped to spot a good few minutes earlier, but until now she hadn't seemed to be eager to let go of the napkin. "Casual nose bleed," she said, showing the dirty fabric to Nenneke. The blood on it was already more brownish than red. "Nothing more. Certainly nothing worth for all three of us to be here."

Ciri acknowledged. The archpriestess however appeared to be completely deaf to the reassurances. Instead, she took a seat next to the sorceress on the bed and abruptly forced her to tilt her head back. "Once bitten, twice shy," she whispered, toying with the flexible parts of Yennefer's nose. "Swollen like a strawberry. No wonders it bleeds."

"Be careful. It's my nose, I remind you, " hissed Yennefer, warping her nostrils like an enormous rabbit. "It's just a nosebleed. I've been a bit weary. The job and new responsibilities. The wedding. The feminine problems."

"Feminine problems?"

"Yes," she yawned. "In line with the theory of adaptation, the permanent disuse of any organ imperceptibly weakens and deteriorates it. Never had any problems before but Tissaia could share quite some interesting stories. Don't look at me like this. It's nothing black bugbane or anything else the Temple has to offer would solve. Surgery will. I'm having everything down there removed in January."

"Does Geralt know?"

"No," said Yennefer sternly. "And if possible, I would like it to stay that way. You know him. He'd mope around. As always, more than it's needed. We don't have time for this now. Also I would be grateful if you could suppress your interest in our family life for now. I'm particularly not in mood."

The archpriestess saddened a little. Yennefer in turn tried to smile. Nothing did come from it. A thick silence filled up the room for a good moment.

"Ciri," the sorceress sighed after a while. "Go downstairs and grab me something."

"Geralt promised to do it."

"I want you to do it," she replied. "Chop-chop. Bring me some ham and caramelised carrots. And needfully a glass of beetroot juice for the today's blood loss."

The very first thing Ciri noticed when she re-entered the dining hall was the shift in the atmosphere. The room which sunk in the silence and awkwardness just minutes earlier, was now replete with the medley of voices and laughers, and smell of burnt hickory logs.

"And this is basically how I remembered Ciri's first days in Kaer Morhen," Triss managed to pass in between the waves of almost hysterical snigger. Her story amused only her and Avallac'h. Geralt's face was dressed in pure embarrassment. So was Eskel's. Lambert's reaction the girl could not work out. "Silly leather outfit, dishevelled hair and a huge rat skin pinned to her bedroom's door. And I bet that for some of us it was actually the very first lesson on feminine physiology."

"It wasn't that bad. Right, Ciri?" asked Geralt, with his hands behind his head. His eyes looked for hers in the dim candle light. They met for a brief moment. He gave a slight wince. She grimaced at him too.

"Right", she mumbled. She took a seat next to him on the bench. Her attention drifted almost instantly to the almost full jug she left there earlier. Then she focused again on her interlocutors, more precisely on Triss and Eskel's intertwined hands.

"You see, Triss? Happy customer. Yen didn't need you upstairs?"

Ciri grinned nastily. She didn't need to speak. Geralt jerked from his seat but she stopped him with a simple gesture of her hand. "Slow down," she said. "I have a feeling she doesn't want to see any of us any time soon. They have a case conference now. And if we're spilling each other's secrets, Triss would you like to share with the other's the funny story from our trip to Ellander?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

They sat in front of the vanity table when Ciri entered the bedroom at the top of the tower. Geralt spotted her first. The witcheress in turn noticed the tray she prepared for Yennefer, now completely denuded of its contents except for a lonely slice of bread. The sorceress inclined over a bowl, with a linen towel over her head had the worst field of vision.

"Our sprog came to talk," Geralt directed, more to Yennefer than to her as the girl suspected. "Better leave you two alone. Bet Ciri has plenty to share."

Indeed she had, but it wasn't anything either. She waited till the door to the room closed and then very slowly, as if glued to the floor, she started to migrate towards the dressing table and Yennefer.

"I'm sorry," she whispered already by her side. The sorceress did not reply just as she expected. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all those things. I mean, I should have said something. Nenneke really shouldn't… Not important what she shouldn't actually. I didn't come here to talk about her."

Yennefer discarded the towel and placed it on the table. "You really think that-" she choked, playing with the embroidered butterflies that decorated the hem of the cloth. "You really wish I was-"

"No, I don't. I was angry when I said it. Nenneke shouldn't mention it."

The sorceress gave a slight cough. "People tend to remember everything you say to them, Ciri. Especially if it has a negative subtext. Sometimes they may use it against you. Even in good faith. That's why you have to mind your words."

"Now, I know. Are you crossed with me?"

Yennefer turned around on the tall stool and glanced straight at her. For a long moment, she didn't say a thing. "I'm a bit embarrassed, I suppose," she admitted. "Maybe bitter but that's all. It takes a bit more to make me crossed."

"I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about the wyvern and my tra- That muscle. I know it's important. And I'm sorry about your problems. I could join you in Vengerberg right after Yule if you want to."

The enchantress laughed lightly. "You're getting soppy, Ciri. Slow down or you'll start to agree with everything I say. We can't allow that to happen, can we?" She smiled at her. Ciri smiled back. "Apologies accepted. Now go to the closet. I have something for you," the girl did as she was asked. "The big black box, top shelf. Can't you see it? I'll get you glasses, I swear. Yes, this one. Just go for it, it's not that heavy. We were supposed to give it to you tomorrow but under these circumstances-"

Ciri placed the box on the floor, opened it gently and pushed aside the layer of organza covering its contents. "I'm not an expert so Geralt chose them. Very carefully. Hope they'll survive longer than the ones we gave you last summer," she heard the sorceress say as she retrieved from the box a pair of red shoes and riding gloves in the matching colour.

"Thank you. They're lovely," replied the witcheress and set about testing the new accessories straight away. The gloves were a bit too tight but shoes… She hadn't have a pair so comfortable in a very long time.

"They'll better be. An equivalent of two vials of perfume or a nice dress. Unfortunately my daughter despises everything that harbours even a hint of good taste or femininity. Hell if I had only known back then when we first met… I would have let you play with my beauty products whenever you wanted to."

"I was stealing them when you weren't looking," mumbled Ciri, marching across the room with a grace of a heavy infantryman.

Her confession made them both chuckle and the girl realized how much she missed it: simple laughing together, simple conversations and ridiculous yacks. They had forgotten about it entirely. Amongst aloofness and pointless fights, they had forgotten about many things. Too many things.

She moved closer to Yennefer's stool. She wasn't sure what to expect but she had hope, and she wasn't let down. The sorceress' arms held her close, eager and solicitous, pleasantly warm. "You know what." Ciri moved gently her chin supported on Yennefer's shoulder. "Nenneke's wrong. We don't need another child."

"It wasn't that bad," commented Eskel as he watched Triss' nightly ritual from the bed. Every single night the procedure consisted of the same simple elements, in most cases placed in the same, predictable and tedious order. On other nights he didn't mind. Tonight however, along with a sound amount of liquor, it seemed almost unbearable.

"It was nice I admit," the sorceress replied, placing her sapphire earrings in their wooden casket. "We still have tomorrow ahead of us though. One is only as good as one's last shift."

"Tomorrow is going to be even better," the witcher replied. Triss' eyes glanced at him from the mirror. "I spoke to Geralt. They're going to Castel Ravello: he and Yennefer. Someone cancelled a reservation. The last weekend of April. Yennefer has she hots for the offer but they have to make up their minds quickly."

The enchantress extinguished the oil lamp. The room sunk into the infinite darkness. He closed his eyes deliberately and listened to the sound of her steps on the crisp planks and the scratch of the worn-out mattress.

"Castel Ravello," he heard her purr somewhere nearby him. "Not only Toussaint, but the very best of it. Looks like we may witness the wedding of the century. Or rather you will."

Eskel shifted a little. Triss sighed loudly in reply. "Don't know," he blurted, finding at last her hair and not long after the rest of her. "Can't picture Geralt getting married in such place."

"Why?"

"It's odd. Unmanly."

The sorceress left a fleeting kiss on his cheek. "Bad news for you then," she whispered, her hot breath tickled. "Almost every woman wants a wedding like this."

"Why?"

"It's the most important day in our lives," she chuckled. "Every little girl dreams about it. The triumph of love. Someone you love and who loves you back declares to spend the rest of their life with you. Such day can't be similar to others. It shouldn't."

"Do you dream about it too?"

She clung tighter to him and did not reply for a very long moment. The smell of her freshly bathed body almost drove him mad. "I don't know," she started, her words were incredibly slow. "Having such dreams has its consequences, because in the end it's only a dream. It's just a dream and dreams usually don't come true. Or maybe I'm simply too old to believe? How about you? Do witchers dream about happily ever after?"

"I… In my opinion-"

He wasn't given a chance to finish. They heard a quiet knock on the door. A knock that did not want to subside. He gasped loudly when she placed a kiss to his lips. He knew what that meant. Then he heard how she approached the door.

"Did I wake you up?" asked the intruder who looked and sounded surprising a lot like Nenneke, but it couldn't be her. Nenneke was surely sleeping soundly in her bed and would not bother others when they were about to ask the most important question in their lives. No, it couldn't be Nenneke.

"No, I-"

"Good. I need your favour. You still offer screening for foetal anomalies in your practice?"

Triss nodded. The archpriestess reached to the pocket of her dress and then placed something on the sorceress' hand. The object shone funnily in the light coming from the hallways, but still, its details were blurry for Eskel's eyes. "I'll cover the costs. As many fetoproteins as possible. Juxtapose it with the reference values for fourth month. And please for now don't breathe a word out of it."