Epilogue

(Author's Note: This is a late addition to the original story and is meant as a set-up for 'Paradise'. As always, heavily draws from book material and characterization, especially for Ciri's character and fluid sexual orientation in this particularly piece.)

Yennefer leaned back on the couch that Geralt – her fiancé as of last evening, she recalled with a rush of pleasure – had set for her on the grassy knoll beside their home. She propped herself up against ornate pillows, her eyes scanning the pages of a ridiculous romance novel that she had received in an exchange with one of the workers on their estate who equally appreciated mocking the melodramatic characters and overdone lines. Mind, she had enough self-awareness to see that her own life was quickly turning into a ridiculous romance novel – but she did not care. Her and Geralt's story was a saga, an epic. Their happy ending may bear semblance to a saccharine two-crown fiction, but damn anyone who dared belittle the earnings of the tribulations they had endured. Their love was forged the hard way – the hardest way. And she cherished that fact.

Soft footsteps were nearing the spot where Yennefer was staring at but not reading her book. She knew instinctively who it was, and put down her novel to welcome her visitor.

"You're up early," Ciri remarked as she sank herself onto the couch with Yennefer, stretching herself to rest her head on her mother's shoulder. Yennefer put an arm around her daughter.

"Let's just say that I had quite a lot of excitement last night and will take a while to calm from it."

"I'm just surprised you're awake because I could hear your 'excitement' from my room, and I know the two of you stayed 'excited' until the sun came up."

"Are you trying to embarrass me by telling me I make love loudly?"

"Does it not work on you as it does Geralt?"

"I love your father, but I am not him. I am proud of how we make love."

"Right. Now you're embarrassing me."

"Much to learn, my pretty little ugly one."

Ciri sighed. "That one will never die, will it?"

Yennefer thought about it. "Do you want it to? Does it really bother you?"

"It used to. Not anymore."

"You know I don't really mean the ugly bit."

"You used to. Not anymore."

"True. That was an odd time for me. I think I was jealous of you."

"I know. It's in the ancient past now. Besides, I think I would feel odd if you were to suddenly change my moniker. 'Pretty little one' would make me sound like such a…"

"Princess?"

"Precisely. 'Pretty little ugly one'. Keep using it. I beg you."

Yennefer planted a quick kiss on the crown of her daughter's head to signal a transition to a new topic. There was a burning question she wanted Ciri to answer.

"Were you in on it? Your father's plans?"

Ciri chuckled against her, slightly shaking them both. "Yes, but it did not go as discussed whatsoever."

"You mean he wasn't meant to lead with the word 'Gwent'?"

"Nor include the word 'shit'."

"Nor perform for an audience?"

"Nor publicly extol you sexual prowess."

"Nor forget the ring?"

"Nor make you ask for his hand."

Both women laughed about the bumbles of their favorite man.

"I think you really took him off guard with that, though – the Gwent. Guess it really turned him on."

"Cirilla, remember, if you want to have a conversation about what turns your father on, you will suffer from embarrassment far sooner than I." That got another laugh out of Ciri.

"I just meant that he seems to really appreciate seeing new sides of you. I can imagine why, too; if I had a partner who never failed to surprise me even after a hundred years," ("Thirty") "I would appreciate her, as well."

Yennefer smiled and decided not to press Ciri on her choice of pronoun. Her question was still unanswered. "What was the original plan, if you are free to divulge?"

"Skellige. Where the Djinn broke Geralt's wish and your relationship turned stronger. I was going to teleport you both there, and Geralt would do… whatever Geralt was going to do."

"Well put. I imagine you had a speech planned out for him that he failed to adhere to?"

"I'm not sure why I thought planning anything with Geralt would be fruitful. The man is good at strategizing but even better at throwing his strategies to the wind, hurtling headlong without using said head."

"In life as in Witchering."

"Hmm."

Mother and daughter laid in companionable silence for a while, relishing the freedom to simply be with one another – a privilege which would never occur to either woman to take lightly.

"Thank you anyway, for helping him. I'm certain you calmed his nerves in the leading days."

"I believe I did. But only after having a little fun at his expense."

"I would expect no less of my daughter. And what of the contract? Was that real? Was it dangerous?"

"It was real, but it was really only a ruse. The jeweler for your ring was near the infestation. The job itself took minutes – no real danger."

Yennefer spared a thought for the splendid ring on her finger, but something else weighed on her mind suddenly.

"Ciri?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you being careful?"

"Where? On the Path?"

"Yes."

"You know I am."

Yennefer thought about reminding Ciri that she learned the tricks of her trade from a man who tended to hurtle headlong without using his head, but she held back her words. Ciri was grown, and she would do things her way. Yennefer just had to trust that it was the right way, that Ciri knew how to care for herself. Besides, Ciri was her daughter, too. She needed to have faith that her own sensibilities had been impressed upon Ciri, and that Ciri would do better for herself than both she and Geralt had done. Still, a mother would always worry; that was simply a universal truth.

Ciri seemed to have read her thoughts. "You needn't worry, though I appreciate that you do. You've both taught me well."

"Just remember to learn from our mistakes, too. Do better than we did."

"Don't you want me to have what you have?"

"Eventually, but I do not wish for you to travel the path we did to get it."

"Do you think you could have what you have now if not for the path you traveled?"

"No."

"So then-"

"Ciri, though I'm aware of my logical contradictions, I dislike having them exposed. A mother wants better for her child. How that 'better' is achieved is not grounded in the confines of logic."

Yennefer felt Ciri smile against her shoulder.

"Mother?"

"Hmm?"

"Shall I help you plan? For the wedding?"

"I would very much like that above the alternatives."

"One of those alternatives being that I help Geralt plan for the wedding?"

"Do you enjoy disasters?" Another smile. Another short silence, then-

"Mother?"

"You haven't changed."

"Do you want me to?"

"Not in the slightest. What is your question?"

"Do… Do you think I'll ever have what you have with Geralt?" Ciri asked with the expectant tone of the innocent girl in Yennefer had once met in Neneke's temple. Yennefer answered with the sincerity she had promised Ciri then that she would always treat her with.

"I hope so, truly. But what Geralt and I have is rare – exceedingly so, and is not something that can simply be sought. Whether you will also be graced with it is not for me to divine, no matter how much I wish it for you."

Ciri paused momentarily, ostensibly in thought. "I think… I believe that even if I don't end up with a love like your and Geralt's, simply that I was able to witness this type of love is enough. Do you know what I mean?"

"You're not a witness, Ciri; you're a catalyst. We love how we love in large part because of you."

"Thank you for saying that."

"It's the truth. Now, daughter, tell me: Black wedding dress. Too scandalous?"

"Would that stop you?"

"No, but I would like to know its effect on my guests."

"I doubt any on your guest list would expect different from you."

"They would expect a black dress?"

"They would expect a scandalous dress."

"Ciri, dear, if you think that my attire is provocative simply because of the coloring, I'd be delighted to show you what some other sorceresses choose to wear to really stir a reaction."

"I've seen some. I was invited to a court festivity in Kovir not too long ago. Barely covered nipples as far as the eye could see."

"You hadn't mentioned you were at court in Kovir."

"I guess there is more behind that story than I've had time to reveal."

"Have you the time now?"

"I suppose." Yennefer was listening, but Ciri spoke hesitantly – almost unwillingly. "I, well… I suppose I met somebody there."

"Somebody with barely covered nipples?"

"Gods, no. Though…"

"Somebody with the anatomy to afford the option of barely covered nipples?"

"Is that your roundabout way of asking me if I've met a woman?"

"Perhaps, although I want you to reveal of yourself no more than you feel comfortable to. Just remember, daughter, that I know you and love you. We both do. And you will tell us what you want to when you feel the time is right."

"Thank you."

Yennefer supposed the time still was not right, as Ciri said nothing more.

"Shall we retreat inside for a meal? I smell Marlene's efforts."

"That would be lovely."

"Then I shall retire for a short nap."

"I may leave after. Back to the Path for a while, until you want me back to help plan for the wedding."

Yennefer had been dreading those words – she never wanted Ciri to leave the safety of their home – but she was nonetheless brimming with pride; Ciri was a Witcher, and a damn good one. She was forging her own life and following her own passions. She was living to the fullest, and as a mother, Yennefer could not help but hold her child in esteem for that.

"I'll be safe, mother. And I'll bid farewell before I leave."

"Do. For now, let us wake Geralt and eat as a family."

As Yennefer and Ciri walked back to the house, mother and daughter put their heads together to devise a plan to wake Geralt up that would create yet another fond, cherished memory – though perhaps not so fond and cherished for Geralt, as Yennefer was seriously weighing the uses of a conjured crustacean that Geralt had once foolishly confessed his aversion to.