The Pack Survives

by LordStark5

The year is 302 AC. Westeros is deep in the midst of the War of the Five Kings. One is dead, and another has seen the war turn on him so badly that he wishes he were so. Little does Robb Stark know his family is about to be the subject of a much bigger game though, with them being forced to align with unnatural powers to avoid destruction.

14. Jon IV

Jon

After the fight with the katakan, Jon and Ciri had spent two weeks living in a remote cottage that she had moved them to. At least- that's what she told him, since Jon had spent most of it recovering from the wound to his face.

Surprisingly, he had not developed an infection from the wound on his face. The three deep scratches that the monster had delivered to the right side of his face had healed shockingly well, all things considered, even without any kind of magical aid, which Ciri had debated seeking out. The problem was that they also needed to quarantine, and if they had gone to another world, they could have released a terrible illness on them due to their potential exposure to 'The Spanish Flu' as it was called by her.

Tonight was the last night for them in this world though, and Ciri had told him that when they woke up in the morning that they would move on. She had been busy packing their things, then finally came to join Jon in bed after a little while.

"You know… the scar doesn't look so bad on you," she told him as she was getting into bed. "Makes you a little bit more… handsome, I guess."

"Really?" Jon wondered.

"Well… you look tougher with it," she said, running three of her fingers along the scar, starting over his eyes and running down his cheek. "And… well it matches mine just a little bit, don't you think?"

He nodded. They did somewhat match, though his was on the other side of his face, and its freshness meant that the skin was still much more obviously healing, while hers had been acquired years before.

She sighed as she crawled into bed, looking exhausted. "I think I've gotten everything on my to-do list done," she said. "Dissected the katakan for trophies and ingredients, buried it, got all our things packed, stayed away from people for two weeks, and got you all treated… am I missing anything?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

Ciri took a few more seconds to consider whether or not she had missed anything. "Right," she finally said, "time for bed." Jon was dimly aware of her stripping down to put on her nightclothes, but he was asleep by the time she finally got into bed.

They slept in, as was usual for them here. There wasn't much reason to get up early after all. Then they began to prepare, doing some final packing, with Ciri occasionally teleporting elsewhere to take stuff away.

Then when they were ready, he and Ciri took each other's hands. For a second he stared into her bright green eyes, then…

With a flash they were in a new world. Her world, he figured, almost immediately. Oddly, it didn't seem so strange to him at first. They were in a village by the coast, a little bit different than ones he was familiar with, but he could tell that this was her home. Luckily, he didn't feel sick at all this time. The sun was just beginning to rise, but nobody seemed to have witnessed their display.

"Oh no…" Ciri muttered, as she looked around.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked.

"Well, for one, we're in Skellige. Not that it's a bad thing- mind you, I love it here, but Geralt and Yennefer… Can't say I remember Geralt ever coming here, and Yen… the last time she was here, she was believed to be a traitor, and nearly killed, except for how she managed to appeal to my Uncle Crach that she needed to help me." Ciri sighed. "When I look for people… it's a little different than when I picture a specific place that I want to be as well. I just get taken somewhere nearby, not to where they actually are. So they're in one of these houses, and if things are as they should be, they'll be asleep until noon."

Jon looked at her uncomfortably. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ciri looked around. Then she seemed to fixate on a notice board. "I guess we find ourselves a job."

"Uh… that doesn't mean we're hunting monsters, does it?" After the katakan in New Orleans, he wasn't too eager to deal with yet another monster.

She cracked a devilish smile. "Why? You scared that I'll make you dance again?" Her fingers slipped into his hand. "Come on, Jon, let's go." He went with Ciri over to the notice board, where she let go of his hand and started to look through the papers.

"What are we looking for here?" Jon asked Ciri as she was reading them.

"Anything exciting," she said, ripping one of the notices down. "Here's one by a man telling the other boys in the village to keep thrashing his son so that he'll learn to defend himself. By the devil, that boy needs a new father."

Jon looked at it, but he couldn't recognize the hand exactly. The letters looked similar to the ones in his world, but a little bit different. "Ah… anything else?"

"Somebody is demanding others not catch a white whale if they see it in the ocean, so that he can kill it. Ah… somebody has been sentenced to a horrible death over the murder of his da. Apparently the druids have seen disturbing signs." Her face grew sad. "Oh that's horrible…"

"What?" Jon asked.

"A woman named Bjarta was apparently found hiding a Nilfgaardian in her house, so they killed him and made her pay a fine." She turned to Jon. "They'll probably force even more on her too…"

"Aren't the Nilfgaardians your enemies?"

"Well yeah," she agreed, "but just because their Emperor is a tyrant who nearly forced me to marry him doesn't mean I hate all of them." She looked back. "Yes, Mother Sigrdrifa wants more maidens to devote their lives to her and become priestesses at the Temple of Freya on Hindarsfjall. Oh! Well look at us. Apparently a man named Rannveig's sons and daughters are meant to dress in mainlander attire, so that everyone knows they can strip the girls or beat up the boys." Ciri took the notice and ripped it up.

"You said you like this place," Jon said, hesitantly, "and you've already taken down two notices that outraged you."

"Well yes," she agreed. "Just because I like it here doesn't make it perfect." Her eyes fixed on one of the notices. "Ah ha!"

"What did you find now?" he asked.

Ciri finished reading the notice first. "Someone's son has been cursed, and they want help. Man's name is… Lotar."

"You know him?" Jon wondered.

"Not in the slightest. But we're in Rannvaig, which is on Ard Skellige."

He knew that Skellige was a group of islands where she had spent half her childhood, but he didn't remember any of the island's names, or why they mattered to her. "Is that… a good thing?"

"Well, my uncles and cousins aren't too far away," she said, shrugging, "and this is an Craite territory."

"Right…" So now we're meeting your family in addition to Geralt and Yennefer.

She glanced down the road that led inland. "I think that's the house," she said, pointing at a modest sized hut.

Jon figured it wouldn't be pleasant to go knocking on random doors if it wasn't who they were looking for. "How would you know that?"

Ciri shrugged. "Just a hunch." She pulled down the notice, then slipped her fingers through Jon's again. "Come on, it's not going to be too hard, Jon. Just something to do for the morning."

The two of them made their way down the round, coming upon the house that was only perhaps two or three hundred feet from the rest of the village. "D'you know what?" she said, as they were walking, "maybe we'll-"

"-Pretend ter be locals?" Jon guessed from the change in her accent. "No chance."

"Fine," she said, grumpily. "Well, come on then."

When they came upon the house, it looked like Ciri's deduction was correct. Outside, a man was silently praying to whatever gods were worshiped here, at a bit of a makeshift altar.

Jon felt bad for disturbing him. "Sorry to interrupt your prayers," he said.

The man looked up. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, bigger than Jon, and muscled like he worked as a rower on a boat. His head was shaved, from the slight growth on his face, it looked like he might not have shaved yet for the day, and he wore short-sleeves, which Jon thought was a little unwise in a place as cold as this. "Who are you?"

Ciri answered with a question of her own. "You're Lotar, aren't you?"

"Lothar," the man corrected. He examined Jon and Ciri carefully. "Aye, you here because of the notice?"

"Quite right," Ciri said. When she didn't add anything else, he decided not to wait to see how long it would take for her to introduce them.

"My name's Jon, and hers is Ciri," he said. "You said your son is cursed, right?"

"Aye!" Lothar said. He stood up and pointed at something in the woods. For a second, Jon didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then he caught a glimpse of the horse skull mounted on a spike.

"A nithing," Ciri muttered. She took a step closer to it, until Jon grabbed her wrist.

"Is that…" Jon began to say, with a whisper. Dangerous, he meant to say.

"It's harmless to us," she whispered back, pushing his hand away. Then she stood by it. "Who's name is carved into it?"

"Tjalve, my first-born. Boy's feverish, grows weaker by the day. 'Fraid I'll bury 'im before the next moon. Tried to lift the curse myself but… no luck." Lothar looked at them with a frown. "What'll you do?"

"Well, there's two ways of dealing with a nithing," Ciri said, having bent down and examined it, "the first would be to convince the person who left this here to lift the curse themselves, or… we can deflect the curse back by writing their name on the shaft. Any idea who did this?"

Lothar frowned. "No… I don't trouble no one. Don't know a soul who'd wish it upon me."

She looked up. "Alright, then. If you'd like, you can go inside and sleep, we'll take it from here."

"Thank you, miss," said the man.

As soon as Lothar was inside, Jon spoke. "So… why can't we just destroy this… ninthing, is that what you called it? Couldn't that break the curse?"

"Nithing, Jon," she corrected. "That's not a bad thought either, Jon, but it doesn't work like that."

Jon was confused. "Well why not?"

"Two things. One, objects that carry curses like this- well the curse has basically been let out pretty much. It's inside the boy, so we either have to trick the curse or get the original castor to lift it. If we just burned it, then Lothar's son would still get weaker and weaker until they died." Ciri stood up. "The other reason is that whoever is casting this… well they put a curse on Lothar's son that would slowly kill him. They either hate the boy or his father so much that they're willing to murder indirectly, so there's no telling what else they might do. So even if that would work, we should still confront whoever put this here."

"And just how do you plan on doing that?" Jon didn't see a way they could find out who had placed it here like this.

"Tracking, naturally," Ciri gestured for him to come over. "Looks like Lothar might not have been too thorough in tracking down whoever cast the curse on him."

Jon went over. There were indeed some light footprints in the ground.

"The prints seem a little bit small… not very deep, compared to the ones Lothar seems to have made," she told him.

He wasn't completely clueless when it came to tracking, though almost all of the tracking he'd ever done was looking at footprints in the snow. "So you're saying the person who put it there is smaller than Lothar?"

"Yes… I have to say it's probably a child who put it here, or a petite woman even." She looked at him, clearly trying to think. "Lothar said he doesn't have any enemies, but… do you think maybe his son does? Some mischievous children read about a nithing in some book and took the idea?"

"Where'd they get the skull from?" Jon asked. "This is a horse skull, right?"

"A horse skull, yes," she said, starting down the trail. "It is only a horse skull that a nithing could be made out of. Either they found this horse skull, or they would have had to butcher a horse and wait for the flesh to decompose." She looked up and made a face. "Can't imagine their parents would have been completely oblivious to the smell of the decomposing flesh though… unless they just left it somewhere, but that would risk an animal making off with it."

Jon had a different thought, inspired a little by the notice board they had seen. "Maybe the parents were in on it too? Maybe their son got into a fight with Lothar's, so they came up with the plan for a nithing, and it was the son who was sent to bring it here?"

"Could be," she agreed. "Can't say I feel certain that there's a parent and child who could both agree to kill a boy like this and keep completely silent about it…"

"Uh-huh," he said, nodding. His gaze suddenly fixed on something hanging from a branch. "Wait"

Ciri turned around. "You see something?"

Jon reached out and grabbed it. "A woman's shawl," he told her.

She took it, and brought it up to her nose. "Oh, it smells a little funny," she said, after sniffing it. "Looks like we're looking for a petite lady though… suppose that feels a bit more sensible."

"Should we take it to Lothar?" Jon wondered. "Do you think he knows something?"

Ciri shook her head. "Doubt it. You heard him say he can't think of anyone who's angry with him, and he didn't even follow these tracks when they were fresher. He might have tracked down the caster all by himself if he did."

"You think he's a dolt?"

She tapped her lip. "Mmm, not really. I just don't think he's a very good detective, that's all."

The tracks cut from Lothar's house straight to the main village. The sun had risen by now, but there weren't too many out. "Do you think we'll be able to find the shawl's owner right now?" Jon asked.

"Not a chance," Ciri said, "only people who are out right now are the fishermen, and unless we find the owner's husband, I doubt we'll find anyone who recognizes it."

Splendid. "So what you're saying is now our job that we took to kill time needs something else to kill time?"

He expected her to offer to just take them forward in time. Instead, a grin of mischief appeared on her face. She suddenly taped him. "Tag, you're it!" she announced, before teleporting away.

"Tag?" He looked around for her. "Haven't played that since-"

"Boo-who!" Ciri called, from further in the woods, revealing where she was, "you'd better come get me!"

Jon sighed, thinking about the absurdity of this. Somehow he'd gone from being a part of the Great Ranging beyond the Wall, to playing a game of tag with the Lady of Space and Time, as she called herself. "I'm going to get you!" he yelled back, hoping that Lothar wasn't out to hear how they were screwing around.

At that, Ciri broke into a run, dashing further into the woods. Luckily, she didn't use her powers again, as he raced after her. He had to weave through the thicket of trees carefully as he pursued.

More than once, he lost track of her completely, but her laughing helped him find her again. They ran across two roads, then up a well-forested hill. "Come onnnnn!" he heard Ciri call out as he was climbing it.

At the top of the hill were some old stones, probably the foundation of an old stronghold. Right in the middle of it was Ciri, who was just standing there in the middle of the ruins.

He didn't even stop. "Got you," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. Then he noticed her dumbfounded expression. "What's wrong?"

"Blood, by the looks of it," she said, pointing to the ground. "But no bodies or signs of it being moved."

Jon felt a bit nervous now. "Should we be… worried?"

"Not at all. Means Geralt and Yennefer came through here. Geralt probably killed the monster, maybe took a trophy or something, and then Yennefer used a spell to dissolve or teleport the body." Ciri finally looked at him. "Where were we…? Oh right, you just got me, didn't you?" she sighed. "Well, fair is fair…"

He was about to ask what she meant by that, until she began undoing her corset. "Uhm…" he started to say, "here?"

"Well would you prefer we go back to the center of the village?" she asked him with a chuckle. "Go on, get undressed."

The air of the island was cool enough that it gave him goosebumps as he took off his clothes, but not so cold that he felt like he would actually freeze without his clothes on. Ciri had laid her discarded clothes on the floor already, and was laying back on them by the time Jon was finally finished.

"What's that on your thigh?" he asked. It looked like someone had painted a rose on her skin there.

"Oh, that?" she looked at it momentarily. "That's my tattoo… I'm surprised you haven't seen it yet. I got it to match a friend, because I was young and stupid."

Jon frowned. "You and your friend got matching tattoos on your thighs?"

"Well, she was a little more than a friend," Ciri said, rubbing it slightly.

"Why do you wear a bracelet around your ankle?" he asked. She'd worn the bracelet he'd given her around her wrist, but soon after he noticed the one on her ankle too, and hadn't yet asked her about it.

"Well, it's how I summon Kelpie. She follows, even through space and time. I just need to rub it and she's there," Ciri said, without much thought.

She hadn't answered his question. "Yes, but why on your ankle? Don't you have your wrists to put it on?"

"Who says I've always had my wrists? For all you know, they just regenerate if they're cut off." Ciri shrugged. "I thought it was safer like this. People like stealing valuables and the bracelet is magical. If they're stealing from me, they won't think to take my boots off to search for valuables. Or they're less likely to, anyway, unless they also decide to steal my boots." She stopped for a second, and seemed to realize how he might have interpreted it. "I like your bracelet though, Jon. I don't want to hide it, even if someone might steal it from me in my sleep."

"I see."

"Come on now, Jon, this is taking too long. I've had dying men seem more eager than you," she said, gesturing for him to lay on her. Her tone suggested that if he didn't, she'd get up and start kissing and pushing him right into one of the castle walls. He already felt quite aroused as he was getting down, but she hastened things by sitting up and pulling him down.

"Oof," he said when they hit the ground. He expected Ciri would say something about how unflattering that was, so instead he started to kiss her, on the neck, on the lips, on her cheek, along that scar of hers. It was the first time they'd made love since they were on the train in New Orleans.

When he penetrated her, she gave an audible moan and began to scratch his back. If her nails weren't so recently cut, she might have torn through his skin. He kept on placing kisses wherever it pleased him, while she kept making noises.

At one point, he paused for a second, grabbing her hands and pushing them to the ground with force. She gave him a grin to indicate that she liked that, then laced her fingers through his and began to squeeze his hands. "Yes," she cried out as he started up again, "yes, yes-" His lips met with hers before she could say anything else.

When he finally spilled his seed between her legs, she was not unsatisfied. Touching her chest, he could feel her heart racing, in a synchronous union with his own.

"Oh my…" Ciri said, seeming lost in her state of bliss.

Jon had a strange feeling inside of him. Not an emotion he felt or something that he could physically feel. But it was as though something had changed within the world itself. She didn't seem bothered at all, just relaxing in her state of bliss. But it was not as though he felt it go away- the feeling persisted yet seemed to fade into the back of his conscience. Whatever it was, he didn't mention it.

"You know… I really do wonder how you're so good at this," he heard Ciri say, breaking their silence. "If I wasn't your first, you can tell me Jon. I've already told you that you aren't my first. I'm just curious to know how you're so good at… pleasing me."

"You are," he insisted. His thoughts went back to something Sansa had told him years ago. "I forgot to tell you this, but you have a pretty name."

Ciri raised an eyebrow. "What are you playing at?"

He chuckled. "My little sister, Sansa, once said the best way to please a woman was to tell them that they have a pretty name."

"Jon! You've had that in you this whole time and you forgot about that?!" She gave him a look of disgust. "I mean really, Jon, I swear that's all my ancestors would ever do was find the prettiest name for their offspring. Please tell me, which one of Cirilla, Fiona, Elen, or Riannon is supposed to be ugly?"

"You're the one who wanted to bed me anyway, even when I hadn't said it," he pointed out.

"Errg," she groaned. "Well maybe I'll leave you and start bedding your sister then, how about that? Because she's better at this than you are."

Jon was about to tell Ciri that Sansa had been eleven at the time. But before that, the sound of a woman clearing her throat could be heard. "Ciri, darling… please put your clothes back on."

Instantly, Ciri went from an amusing frustration to genuine horror, blushing so hard that her face matched the crimson rose on her thigh.

He spoke with a voice not much louder than a whisper. "Is that-"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, Jon. Whatever you're about to ask, it's yes." He'd seen her wearing plenty of different emotions in their short time together, but neither fear nor embarrassment, and he couldn't tell which she was right now.

Jon got off of her and quickly moved to get dressed as quickly as he could. When they were only about halfway dressed, a man and a woman stepped out.

"You should have said something," Ciri said, to them, a little bit frustrated, "we wouldn't have-"

"-You woke us up, I'm afraid," said the woman. Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jon recognized, from how much Ciri had said about her. She was so beautiful that he found it hard to even fathom, despite the early awakening. And there was her raven-black hair, which from how much Ciri had told him, made him feel confident that he would have recognized her anywhere.

"It's good to see you again, Ciri," said the man. Jon would have described him as handsome, but much more rugged, with long white hair, a clean shaven face, inhuman yellow eyes- like those of a cat, and several scars lining his face. Geralt of Rivia, he knew.

"I thought you would have maybe gone back to Avalon, you know," said Ciri. "Oh just let me finish dressing and I'll give you a hug."

"You're the only one who could take us there, remember?" Yennefer pointed out, before changing the subject. "Care to introduce us to your ah… friend?"

Ciri made a face, as she was putting her socks back on. "You were about to say boy toy, weren't you?"

The raven-haired woman sighed. "Well yes," she admitted. "You and I both know where we might have gotten that impression, yes?"

"Bellerophon was one time," Ciri said, defensively. "Besides- I read the story about him. He only became such a dolt after he got that flying horse of his and it ended up getting into his head.

"And Galahad," Yennefer added. "And Lathander."

"Galahad was different," Ciri insisted. Jon remembered something about a man called Galahad, but nothing about a Bellerophon or Lathander. Whatever the case, Ciri brushed away Yennefer's objections. "This is Jon." She looked over at him, "Jon, these are Geralt and Yennefer."

"Well met," he said in response, trying to sound a little bit sure of himself. Then a little quieter, "You know, Yennefer is a pretty name."

Ciri's expression indicated that she wasn't sure whether to bust out laughing or to strange Jon. Either way, she hadn't even laced up her boots when she went over to the white-haired witcher and the black-haired sorceress."Oh I've missed you both," she said, hugging them at the same time.

"We missed you too, Ciri," Geralt of Rivia replied.

Yennefer chuckled. "You missed out on seeing Geralt suffering from amnesia."

"Did I?" Ciri sounded so disappointed by that. "What'd he do?"

"Oh, a whole awful lot," the older woman said, causing her and Ciri to laugh as they broke out of their hug. When they were done laughing, she continued, "where's Istredd?"

Istredd?

"I lost him, I'm afraid. Haven't been able to find him anywhere… I think something bad might have happened to him." Ciri let out another sigh. "What is this place anyway? I've never been here before, somehow."

"Kaer Nyssen," Geralt said, "we came here to recover some old witcher artifacts."

Ciri raised an eyebrow, by now inviting Jon to come to her side. "Witcher artifacts? Here on Skellige?"

Yennefer nodded. "I was doing some reading at Kaer Trolde, found an old document that says this place used to be a witcher school. The precursor to the School of the Bear, would be my guess, until they relocated to the Amell Mountains."

Geralt looked at Jon curiously. "Where'd you come from, Jon?"

"A different world," he said, surprisingly casually. "And you both come from this one?"

"Naturally," Yennefer agreed, "we don't all get to travel between worlds."

Jon felt Ciri slip her hand into his. "Why did you come to Skellige?"

"Figured if you were going to come back, this might be the place where you did," Geralt said, with a shrug. "The mainland isn't in great shape either."

"What he means is that we aren't exactly welcome on the mainland," Yennefer said. "It's on the brink of war."

"Oh," Ciri said. "Well it's a good thing we're not planning to stay then."

Jon looked at her. "We're going?"

"Not yet, Jon. We just got here." She looked back at Geralt and Yennefer. "I can take you with us, when we go back to Jon's world. We're dealing with some strange monsters there…"

Geralt of Rivia nodded in response. "I'm afraid we have business here."

"Can I help you with it?" Ciri asked.

Yennefer of Vengerberg shook her head. "I'm afraid not, darling. Here on Skellige, all three of us might be safe but… well things won't be so pleasant if you had suddenly reappeared. My sisters of the Lodge, they're content with my explanations of how you are the Lady of Space and Time, that even if we tried, we wouldn't be able to bring you back too. We've been fighting our own battles for a long time, well before you were even born, I think we'll be fine without you."

Didn't you two die? Jon kept silent as Ciri just sighed. "Well… Jon and I took out a job, lifting a nithing curse to kill time until you'd woken up."

Geralt looked at them with confusion. "Which is why you ah…"

"Well, we needed to ask around about a shawl we found, but everyone was asleep except for the fishermen. So we started messing around to kill time for that too,' Ciri explained. Then she pulled it out. "Speaking of which… can we borrow your nose, Geralt?"

"Sure," Geralt said, taking the shawl. "Where is this supposed to be from?"

"Rannvaig." Ciri pointed back in the direction that they came from.

"A village in Crach an Craite's territory?" Yennefer mused. "You'd better be careful, Ciri. There's people here who might recognize you."

"If they can recognize me from when I was a little girl, then I'll be impressed," she replied.

"And in danger," Yennefer reminded. He could tell that Geralt was not particularly fond of her carelessness either.

Ciri let go of Jon's hand, then disappeared in a flash of blue light, reappearing next to Geralt. "Which is why I can just do this," she said, bowing gracefully. After that, a silent conversation between Yennefer and Ciri seemed to take place. They didn't say anything, but Jon could see from their expressions that it was as if they were talking to each other.

Geralt engaged with Jon during that time. "What is it you do in your world, exactly?"

"I… guard the realm for outside threats," he said, figuring that was about as simple an explanation he could give.

"Like a witcher?" Geralt wondered.

"No," he said. "We protect against wildlings more than anything else."

"Ah, so you're an army then. Got it," said the witcher.

Ciri broke in. "It's a little more than that. They've got monsters too, as far as we know. Just not… as many."

"Do you think you'll be able to live a life with him there?" asked Geralt.

"Well… that's my hope," Ciri agreed. "Might not be the easiest arrangement, but I hope we'll get to work together there."

Geralt nodded. "This shawl smells like it belongs to someone who does a lot of gardening," he said, returning back to the job that they were working on, and handing the shawl back to Ciri. "Traces of rare herbs and spices. I'd look for who has the biggest collection of plants around their house when you get back."

"Right," Ciri said, nodding. "Maybe you'd like to accompany us?"

"Of course," Yennefer said.

The witcher seemed to disagree. "We'll go to the village, but it's you who took on the contract."

When they got to the village, they followed Geralt of Rivia's words. While Geralt and Yennefer went to do something else, Jon and Ciri began their quest. When they were further away, he finally spoke up. "The three of you don't seem as close as you made it sound."

"We are, it's just…" Ciri sighed. "I think they're a little grumpy with me, coming back unannounced. I know they'd like it if I stayed, but… well I think they also want to make sure that I know it's time to go."

"We could stay if you want," he offered. "Staying in those other worlds- that was one thing, but this-"

"-Would be something much worse," she finished for him. "For everything I tell you, Jon, there's probably three more things that I haven't told you. Part of why your world interests me is because of how weird it is… like there was a barrier blocking me from getting there. I was hoping to maybe use it as a haven."

"What do you need a haven in my world for?" he asked.

She gave him a frustrated look. "Let's just say that I have… enemies. You heard Yennefer talking about how there's people here who might want to catch me if they knew I was back, and we've discussed that before, but… there's people in other worlds too. Part of why I've traveled so much is because… I can't stop running or they'll get me."

"You make it sound exhausting," he said.

"It is!" She paused for a moment. "I know I make this jumping through space and time look easy, but… it's not Jon. Well… my powers are easy, but… well I don't get to keep friends or family with me, or anything like that. I tried keeping lovers, like those men Yennefer said, but… well it didn't really work out with them. I guess I feel bad for not really telling you that our relationship was a bit of an experiment by me. I wanted to have a friend to go through worlds with me. You needed my help at the same time, so it was a perfect compromise."

"Ahm… would you like a hug?" he said, unsure where the thought came from.

Ciri looked at him funny, and stifled a giggle. "Yes."

"I'm glad that you found me," said Jon as he embraced her. Even as frightened or nervous as he sometimes felt by all of this, he enjoyed her company. "I'm glad I have you."

She moved her head back and smiled slightly. "Would you be willing to come back with me?"

"To this world?" Jon asked for clarification. "To see Geralt and Yennefer again?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Maybe next time… things will go a little bit better."

"Why don't we find out whose shawl this is?" he said. He pointed at a random woman who was standing in the open. "I bet she knows who it belongs to."

As it turned out, she didn't. Nor did the next one, or the one after that. Jon figured they must have asked about a dozen women, before Ciri seemed to get tired.

"I mean, really," she said, sighing, "how hard can this be?"

"What did Geralt tell us?" Jon asked, to remind her, "he said this probably belonged to somebody with the most plants outside their house."

Ciri looked around. "Maybe that one?" she guessed.

"It's worth a look," Jon said. They still hadn't been in that part of the village anyway. "You think it's worth a try?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. So they walked over to the house. It was a little bit bigger than most, and a little more luxurious, though not by too much. What seemed to distinguish it was the fact that there probably were multiple rooms inside of it.

Nobody was standing outside of it as they approached, so Ciri went first and knocked. "Hello?" she called out. "Anyone home?"

A woman, probably in her late twenties emerged. She wore a blue sleeveless blouse, with a black fur cover on her shoulders and around her neck, highlighting her slim and petite figure to them. Her brown hair was a little shorter than Jon would have expected, just going past her shoulders, and her face was covered in freckles, to go along with beautiful green eyes. Jon would have called her pretty, certainly, though not much more than that. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Ciri said, "can we come in?"

"Of course, of course," the woman agreed, inviting them in. "Yes, right in here, would you care to look around? I have some plants that might interest you-"

"Actually, that's not why we're here," Jon told her as they came in. Ciri drew out the shawl as he did so. "This belong to you?"

The woman looked up from her herbs. "Aye… where'd you find it?"

Ciri spoke then. "Found it in the woods, near Lothar's house, on the trail you made while putting the nithing there."

"How'd you know about that?" the woman started to say. She made an angry face. "If you're here to-"

"-We'll be leading this," Ciri said, interrupting the woman. "Let's start simple, shall we? What's your name?"

"Jonna," replied the woman. "I'm the village herbalist, since neither of youse seem to be from here."

"Very good," Ciri said after that.

"Why'd you put a curse on Lothar's son?" Jon asked.

"His bastard, you mean?" Jonna replied. "I loved Lothar. We were betrothed when we were young. I cooked for 'im, shared my bed with 'im. Then one day, he decides to make off with that harlot of his."

"So you're killing a child because you're jealous?" Ciri asked. "That boy has never wronged you, has he?"

"Lothar and I-" she sighed. "He left me when… when I was… this is his comeuppance."

Jon realized that Lothar and this Joanna must have been a bit older than they looked. "You're saying that you had a child with Lothar?" he deduced.

"Aye," she agreed. "Brought dishonor on me, and my boy by leaving us. Henrygg's getting close to manhood, yet Lothar still refuses to even acknowledge 'im."

You two sound perfect for each other then. "And what's his son dying going to do you?"

Jonna gave them a hard look. "He's paying for what he did ter me."

Ciri made a face. "Really? That's about as pathetic a story as I've ever heard, and I've heard some real shitty ones."

"And what would you do, girl?" Jonna asked. "What'd you do if he left you with a swollen belly and broken heart?"

"Ummm…" Jon responded.

"I'd skin him alive," Ciri said, without any hesitation, "killing his son… how long has it been, ten years? More?"

"Twelve," Jonna answered.

"Unthinkable." Ciri shook her head. "Go find yourself the biggest, strongest brute on the isle, and shag him until he agrees to marry you. If you want to make him feel bad, give him reason to. This though… you just vindicate him in leaving you." Jon nervously put a hand around her shoulder. "Besides, what do you even want in him? If he left you, he doesn't deserve to be your child's father."

"Uh… Ciri," he whispered, "she could curse us."

She shot him an amused look. No she can't, she seemed to say within that.

"You go tell Lothar, I'll lift the curse on that Tjalve of his, if he agrees to give up that wife of his and their false born children and come back to me." Jonna had a resolute look on her face.

"You can tell him that yourself," Jon said, suddenly deciding to speak up. Maybe it was Ciri's boldness that was giving him the inspiration for it. "Take your Henrygg with you too. Look him in the eyes and tell him what you've done."

Jonna stared at them with pure loathing. "That's Henrygg's father, he'll… not understand."

Jon nodded using her words to keep going. "And that's his brother you've cursed."

Ciri crossed her arms. "You can be stubborn, Jonna. You can kill Tjalve, have your sick, perverted revenge. But they'll know. They'll all know about Jonna, the child-murdering witch, who pretends to be a simple herbalist. What do you think will happen to you then? How long do you think you'll be allowed to live?"

The older woman scowled. "This isn't about-"

"-It is," Ciri cut off. "Your actions have consequences, even if you don't want to see it. You're mad at Lothar for leaving you- and by all means, fuck him for that. But killing his son will just make it worse."

"How can it be worse?" asked Jonna. "My boy's a bastard, his father abandoned him…"

"And now imagine your boy's life if he didn't have you." Ciri said. "His ma was a murdering witch, and his father abandoned him. What do you think will become of him then? I promise you, it can be worse."

Jonna's expression changed. Something about Ciri's words must have resonated, as she seemed to soften. "But then… what will I do?"

Ciri reached into her pouch and drew out a small pouch. "First you need to lift the curse. Then… go start yourself a new life. Go to a different isle, sail to Novigrad or Gors Velen or Nilfgaard or somewhere else with Henrygg. You don't need to worry about the shame of bastardy or the fact that your betrothed left you or anything like that. Just say Henrygg's father is dead." She handed the bag of coin over to Jonna.

The woman shook her head. "Henrygg… he's sick. He's…"

Oh. "Is that why you put the nithing out?" Jon asked.

"Yes," Jonna said, whispering. "My herbs don't 'elp any. Nobody wants to touch 'im cause… he's a bastard."

"I know somebody who can help him then," Ciri said. "She'll help him better than either Jon or I can. And once she's done helping, you should go, Jonna."

"What'll you tell Lothar?" asked the herbalist.

"We'll tell him that we've lifted the curse," said Jon. "Just that, and nothing else. As long as you lift it."

Jonna looked at them, helplessly. "I… don't know how."

"That's easy," Ciri said, "just repeat after me. I, Jonna."

"I, Jonna."

"Renounce my curse."

"Renounce my curse."

"That I have put upon the boy Tjalve."

"That I have put upon the boy Tjalve."

"Let his fire be relit."

"Let his fire be relit."

"May his days be fruitful, and his life long."

"May his days be fruitful, and his life long."

"The curse is lifted," Ciri said. "Get your Henrygg ready, because my help will be arriving soon." Then she turned to him. "Jon."

When the door opened, Ciri jumped back into him.. "Yennefer!" she exclaimed. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you?"

Jon noticed both the black-haired sorceress and the white-haired witcher standing outside the house, pretending as though they had just so happened to be right outside the house. "No," Yennefer answered.

"Yes," said Geralt at the same time.

"Oh you haven't changed a bit," Ciri said, with a look of disbelief. "Well you heard what I need then. Jonna's son needs help, Yennefer. We have business to finish with Lothar.

Ciri looked at them with disbelief. "Well then you heard what I need," she told them, "Jonna's son needs help from you, Yennefer. While we finish up our business with Lothar."

"Not going to tell us what happened?" Geralt asked.

"You probably heard every word that was said," Ciri said. "C'mon, Jon."

As they walked along the path towards Lothar's house, he and Ciri talked. "So we're going to just tell him that we lifted the curse," he started saying. "Not going to mention Jonna or Henrygg, right?"

"Right," Ciri agreed, "though I can't say I'm not tempted to shame the man for what he did to them." She snorted. "I suspect that with that money I gave to Jonna, we've probably lost more than we'll get paid by him."

Jon had a different question to answer with. "Will you ask for more?"

"No… if I asked for him to repay us with how much I gave to Jonna, it would probably bankrupt him. We'll just invoke the Law of Surprise and call it a day." She tapped her chin. "Actually on second thought… no."

"Why not?"

"You remember the Law of Surprise, don't you?"

"You get payment from someone that they don't know that they have yet- a gift, some sort of long lost item, a child…"

"Which is how Geralt became my destiny," she agreed with a nod. "I don't want to take the chance that Lothar doesn't even know about Henrygg's existence though. The law can be… a little unfair like that."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "When Geralt invoked the Law of Surprise with my father, my father had a deep respect for witchers back then. But mama already knew that she was with child. She didn't necessarily agree to give me away, but because my da did, I was destined for Geralt. Same way with my mama being destined for my da." She shook her head. "At least mama and I were accepting of our destinies. Sometimes… it can be really bad."

"Like when?" Jon asked.

"There was a story, one of the witchers told me at Kaer Morhen. I've mentioned him a couple of times- Lambert. He was always very unhappy and angry, you know. All the other witchers hated him." Ciri's tone seemed to indicate that even she kinda disliked Lambert. "The story he told me was well… horrifying though. His father was a drunk, and abusive. Always shouting at his mother, always beating both of them… eventually, Lambert and his mother decided to run away together."

They stopped halfway to Lothar's house. "What happened then?" Jon asked.

"Well… Lambert's father was rescued by a witcher, and in return, the Law of Surprise was invoked. Someone had caught Lambert and brought him back to his father's home while his father was away, so imagine his father's shock when he found Lambert there. He had payment to give to the witcher, even though he was a real shit father."

Jon started to understand. "You're worried that if we invoke the Law of Surprise, that we'll be taking Jonna's son, instead of something from him?"

"Yes," she agreed.

Lothar was sitting just outside his house when they got there. Jon judged that he hadn't slept since their initial conversation, which made the large man look even more tired than he had been. "Did you… lift the curse?"

"We did," Jon agreed.

Ciri took over from there. "Tjalve should be getting better soon. We found an old debt that you left unpaid, paid it off for you."

Lothar frowned. "It was Jonna, wasn't it, she and her boy, Henrygg…"

Jon felt his hands slip around Ciri's arms, keeping her Lothar. "You know about them?"

"Jonna… she's just a jealous bitch," Lothar said. "Thought there was more between us than there was."

"You had a child with her. There was plenty there between you," Ciri said in disgust.

Jon still kept his hands around her.

"You'd you pay off my debt?" Lothar asked.

"We did a lot more than most witchers would have done," Ciri said.

"Well, here's your coin," said Lothar, drawing out an even smaller pouch than the one Ciri had given Jonna, and handed it to Jon.

Ciri scowled. "You owe more than that, Lothar."

Jon nodded, as he finished putting away the pouch of coin. "You owe Jonna an apology, and her son too. They're going to be going away soon, but you need to say farewell to them before then."

Lothar looked dumbfounded now. "She cursed my-"

"-She did," Jon agreed, "that doesn't mean she didn't have a reason."

Just then, the bald man's wife stepped out of the house. "Lothar… what's happening?"

"Agryd…" Lothar said, "these are…"

"The ones who saved your son's life," Ciri said to introduce them. She looked between them, and still had a look of fury on her face. "For proper payment, I ask of you what you have, but do not yet know."

Agryd, Lothar's wife, went red at that moment. "No… Lothar…" she stammered.

Then Ciri went red. "Wait. Oh no…" she looked at Jon with dawning horror.

Lothar looked at the two women with confusion. "What's wrong?'

Jon started to realize what was happening now. For the life of one child, they've given up another.

Ciri stormed off in a huff, and Jon followed after her. "Ciri," he said, "Ciri…"

Two-thirds of the way to the village, she finally stopped. "It's done, Jon. I… invoked it. That child is our… my destiny now."

"That's all it takes?" Jon asked in disbelief. "Truly?"

She nodded. "That's all it takes, Jon. I thought maybe he'd find something valuable in his garden, or- maybe he'd get a present in the coming days, and it would be ours, but… oh, Jon, what are we going to do?"

Jon took a deep breath. "So… what if we leave the child be?" he asked. "If we don't collect on it?"

"No… that could be just as dangerous." Ciri was quite dismayed by all of this.

"They didn't agree to it, did they?" Jon asked her. "If not… it'll be just fine, won't it?"

Ciri took a deep breath. "Maybe," she agreed. "Maybe you're right… and if… it's meant to be then… destiny will probably find some way to bring me here." It seemed like in that moment, she was just trying to forget all that had just happened. "Maybe the woman had something else she was worried about us taking. And I think we can live without whatever random trinket she's scared we'll take."

"Alright," Jon said.

"And no matter what, Jon, don't mention this to Geralt or Yennefer. Please," she said.

"What if we did just get a child surprise?" Jon asked. "What then?"

She rubbed her temple. "Jon…"

"Yes?"

Ciri had a frustrated look on her face. "Just… don't bring it up, okay? I'll figure it out on my own." Then she looked further down the road. "Geralt!"

Is it so bad? Jon wondered. If Ciri loves Geralt like this, then surely her getting a child of destiny of her own wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it?

She leapt up into Geralt of Rivia's open arms.

"Ah… I take it things went well?" Jon heard the witcher say as they were hugging.

Ciri shook her head. "No, it went horribly," she said, "but that was to be expected."

Geralt set her back down on the ground. "Yennefer is almost done already," he said. "Bit of a complicated illness that the boy came down with, but nothing she can't handle."

"That's good," Jon said. "He's going to get better then?"

The witcher agreed with a nod. "You two did well. Saved two boys from dying, stopped a third from doing something that couldn't be undone. Good work."

Ciri seemed to be pleased with the praise, while Jon still couldn't shake the feeling of doubt and dread that was resting in his stomach. "Does that mean I get a piggyback ride?" she asked.

"A piggyback ride?" Geralt said. "Now?"

She laughed. "Well, you never gave me them at Kaer Morhen. Uncle Vesemir was the only one willing." Jon anticipated what happened next, but still felt surprised.

"Oof," Geralt groaned as Ciri suddenly appeared on his back, and almost immediately began to adjust herself to make it so she was riding on him. "Had to wait till now to remind me? You've put on some weight since Kaer Morhen."

Ciri just kept laughing, as Geralt began to spin around. The witcher laughed too as they went. He took them away from where Jon was standing, forcing him to follow as they made their way into the center of town.

"Oh!" Ciri said, as she suddenly began to slip, then they both fell down. She hit the ground first, then Geralt landed on top of her, though she seemed completely unbothered by it, just laughing as it happened.

Just then, Yennefer emerged from Jonna's hut. Jon was able to read her lips as she caught sight of the display in the middle of town, "Oh dear."

Geralt and Ciri both got up and began to dust themselves off, still laughing as they did. Jon felt like he was starting to understand what she meant when she told him about the fact that witchers weren't supposed to have emotions, but that they really did. Geralt often came across as muted, like his emotions were dulled or suppressed, but they were still truly there. It just took a little work to bring them out.

"You're not getting any piggyback rides from me, if that's what you're thinking," Yennefer said to Ciri as they started to come back. Of course, the sorceress was even smaller than her ward, so it felt like it was rather obvious to begin with. Then she began to go into a summary of what had happened, "Not sure how, but the boy managed to get himself a blood curse."

"A blood curse?" both Jon and Ciri asked in unison, though for different reasons. Ciri seemed more shocked by the development, while Jon just didn't know what a blood curse even was.

"The boy was sleeping throughout the whole ordeal, so I didn't manage to ask him where he managed to get himself cursed as such, but it seems whatever the case, he was hiding it from even his mother," Yennefer explained. "When he wakes up, I know he'll be getting a good deal of questions from his mother."

Ciri nodded. "So the job is done."

"It is," Geralt of Rivia said, nodding. Then he started to move his hand towards a pouch in his pocket. "Figured you ought to have something to mark your trade, Ciri."

Jon saw what the witcher was holding. It was a necklace, with a wolf's head pendant, extremely similar to the one that he was wearing. While he didn't feel much of an emotional reaction to it, Ciri's face instantly lit up.

"A witcher's medallion?" she asked. "A real one?"

"Mhm," Geralt nodded, as he offered it to her. "We made it just for you… just needed you to come back so we could give it."

Ciri smiled brightly as she was putting it on. "Oh… it's beautiful, Geralt." Then she finished putting it on and leapt forward, embracing the white-haired witcher, and putting a kiss on his cheek. "Can we go test it out?"

"Heard there was a fiend nearby," Geralt said with a nod. "You want to go hunt it?"

Ciri looked brimming with excitement. "Yes, yes, let's go! Come on, Geralt!"

Before anything else could be said, they were going off together, up the road away from the village. Jon looked at Yennefer, uncomfortably. "So ah…"

"Come on," said the sorceress, taking Jon's hand. "We've got things to do, while they're busy." Then as Ciri often did, she began to pull him forward onto an adventure he hadn't agreed to.

As it turns out though, what Yennefer was taking Jon for was shopping. She took him to a clothier first. There she bought two light green cloaks, a fur undercoat, a dark blue doublet, and more, using Jon as a personal rack to carry them all. "I'm pretty sure I got your sizes correct," she muttered as they were walking out.

Jon looked at her, a little bit dumbfounded. "You bought this for… Ciri and I?"

"What… did you think I was going to start wearing this like this?" she asked while gesturing towards the green cloaks. "Ciri told me you needed a makeover, and that she needed some warmer clothes, so here we are."

A makeover?

She set a sack- the last thing she'd gotten while they were inside- on the ground and opened it up. "Put it in there, please, Jon."

He obeyed, setting the clothes into the sack. "Now what?"

"Your sword. Let me see it," Yennefer said.

"Ahm…" Jon drew out the sword, and showed it to the sorceress.

"Interesting," she said, studying it, "odd patterning of the steel… looks sharp."

"I don't need a new sword," he told her.

"Not even a silver sword? I can put enchantments on it if you'd like." Yennefer seemed to realize something as she stared at his fresh scars. "Or perhaps you're just taking after Ciri… yes, that appears to be it. No silver sword needed for her, or enchantments. Zireael is the sword for her." She waved a hand. "Come on then, grab your stuff."

He followed Yennefer over to sea, and into an open shed. With just a gesture, a pair of seats appeared for them to sit in.

For a little while, they sat in silence. Jon fixated on the waves, and decided just now that he wanted to go home. Eventually, the silence was broken when Yennefer leaned back in her seat, stretching out her legs. "I apologize for my initial reaction to you. I assumed you were fairly similar to Ciri's other lovers, which… seemed like poor relationship choices." The sorceress looked over her carefully. "You do have the doltishness that her lovers always seem to carry, and are rather attractive. Hmm, but you aren't particularly blustery, and I do worry how you'd fare in a fight with some of her old lovers."

Jon didn't know how to respond to that.

She continued, "Forgive me for feeling a little too ah… judgemental. The only reason why I sometimes don't put so much trust in Ciri is because the men who want her are unworthy of her. So seeing as to how I love her as if she were my own daughter, I prefer to make certain she isn't making a mistake. But you…" she tapped her chin, "age appropriate, loyal and sweet. If it makes you feel better, I do approve."

"You… called me a dolt," Jon reminded her.

"I did. Ciri can be one too, if you haven't caught on to that yet. Did she ever tell you about that time she got in trouble at Gors Velen for actually knowing about monsters and being too stubborn to let it go?" She seemed to be lost in her own nostalgia.

"No," he admitted. "Not that I remember."

Yennefer smiled. "Well the story begins with me taking over as Ciri's caretaker. Geralt and the witchers had tried to keep her hidden away as much as possible, for years in fact. But Ciri was always an exceptionally problematic child, and needed the care of a sorceress. So… Geralt had to turn to me for help."

"You two hadn't been together at that point?" Jon guessed. "Ciri said you and Geralt always had a tenuous relationship."

"She's not wrong," she conceded. "It took us a while to get to the point we're at now."

You mean that it was Ciri that actually helped you stay together for once. "So… you took Ciri to this place called Gors Velen after you had her?"

"Eventually," she agreed, "though that wasn't where I went immediately. When I was taking her to Gors Velen, it was to get Ciri registered at the Aretuza Academy. So while I was busy haggling with the bank, Ciri was entrusted to the care of an apprentice of theirs, Fabio Sachs." He could feel Yennefer still studying him carefully. "Fabio led Ciri around the city, apparently he managed to show her a good time even, because eventually, they were watching a show where a man was claiming to have caught a basilisk."

"And what exactly is a basilisk?"

"A type of draconid… maybe you've heard of snakes or dragons?"

"I have," Jon agreed.

"It's something like that." Yennefer said, before continuing the story. "Ciri though, she recognized right away that something was wrong. She was taught by witchers after all, she knew exactly what it was. It was a wyvern, not a basilisk, and she recognized that the captor was an utter fool who was putting the entire crowd in danger."

Jon was pretty sure that Ciri had mentioned something similar to this story, now that he thought about it, but he allowed Yennefer to go on.

"Naturally, she began loudly proclaiming her deductions, earning the ire of the fool who was holding the wyvern in captivity." Yennefer chuckled. "According to her, everyone blamed her for the wyvern breaking out of the cage, because she unsettled it, and not the man who built an inadequate cage for it."

He frowned. "Did she kill it?"

"Naturally. She first proved it wasn't a basilisk by taking up the keeper's challenge that she should stand in range of the monster's venom- since a basilisk's breath would be deadly. Once proving it was a wyvern, she started back and it got free, followed by her apparently killing it, and passing off the weapon to a young squire, so that it seemed like he was the monster slayer."

Jon looked at Yennefer of Vengerberg with curiosity. "I've seen her kill two monsters so far," he said.

"Well, if you manage to stay with her longer, I suspect that number will grow considerably," said Yennefer.

"Why don't you want to come with us to my world?" Jon asked. "Why do you really not want to?"

"I must confess, Jon Snow, that there are things I have kept from even Geralt and Ciri. Things that we need to explore here. If you'd come back later… perhaps we would go with you." Yennefer sighed. "I suppose this is the part where you ask what it is I'm hiding from them. Truth is, I subjected myself and Geralt to a mad little experiment that in hindsight was wrong. I didn't tell Geralt about it, and truthfully, their proposition was so absurd that I should not have believed it. Yet… I wanted it to be true, so I went through with it, and now… I'm beginning to think we're seeing the side-effects."

"I never told you my name was Jon Snow," he said, dumbfounded.

"No?" she said, a little bit puzzled. "Your mind did, so forgive me. I know the secrets you are carrying, Jon Snow, just like I know the secrets Ciri is keeping from you."

He recalled Ciri mentioning that Yennefer could read minds. "Will you share them?"

Yennefer shook her head. "Those are for you to share with each other. But if it makes you feel better, I don't believe these secrets you both hold will tear you two apart."

"Thanks?" he said with uncertainty.

"It's not been an easy thing- coming to terms with how grown up Ciri is now. I suppose she was already a bit older when we first met, but… I still see her as the girl who I was asked to care for by Geralt, and to train her in the mystic arts." Yennefer's expression softened. "All I ask of you is that you take good care of her."

"Ah… Ciri seems pretty well-equipped to take care of herself," he said.

"Yes… it does seem that way now. But if her strength wanes, she needs someone there for her. Someone like you." She paused momentarily, considering her next words carefully. "You seem completely ordinary, I must say. I suppose there's something special about you that attracted her to you, but… all of this seems absurd to you. Ciri maybe doesn't realize it- not yet anyway, but she does need that. Can you meet that challenge?"

"I… think so?" Ciri's problems always seemed so much bigger than he could ever fathom. What can I do to help her?

"You and Geralt have that in common," she said, a little mysteriously.

Jon didn't know what she meant. "What do we have in common?"

"You think so much in terms of monsters, and threats- that sometimes you forget there are other threats that need to be faced sometimes. Grief, anger, stress… it's more than just the monsters and people you fight." Yennefer sighed. "When Ciri was training at Kaer Morhen, the witchers were keeping her safe from external threats, yes, but… there were other problems Ciri was facing that forced them to seek help. Problems that ultimately led to Ciri being under my protection instead of theirs."

Jon recalled Ciri mentioning parts of that. Her nightmares that she frequently had about the Sack of Cintra, the prophetic trances she'd go into, the issue of her not having anyone to speak to about periods. Ultimately, the witchers had reached out to Triss Merigold to help her out. "I'm not much good with existential crises."

She laughed. "Not many are, Jon. Just take care of Ciri for me."

He ended up falling asleep not too long after that. The one thing about traveling with Ciri was that it was always hard to tell how many days it was, which was made even more so by the fact that Ciri told him that not all worlds had the same day lengths. In some worlds, the days could last for years, and in others, they could pass in a matter of hours, while in some, the sun didn't seem to rise at all. What sleep he did manage was often a precious commodity, and he suspected that Yennefer was helping him along.

When he woke up, Ciri was laughing with Geralt over something that he didn't hear. "Oh, do you remember me training on the pendulum?" she asked after that. "I feared I'd never manage… being black and blue basically all the time, oh it was a nightmare, Geralt."

"You weren't the first," the witcher answered, flatly. "But it was worth it, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah…" she agreed. Then she saw Jon laying on the floor. "Oh… did you put him to sleep, Yennefer?"

"No, he did it all by hisself," Yennefer replied, smiling. "Wake up, Jon."

He sat up, groggily. "Ciri… I think I'm ready to…" his voice trailed off.

"Go home?" his lover suggested.

Jon felt guilty about putting pressure on Ciri to leave Geralt and Yennefer so quickly, but he felt like they needed to go now. Something strange would be upon them soon, something they needed to be in his world for. "Yeah."

"Tsk, tsk," said Yennefer. "First you need to get dressed," she said, looking at the bag. He noticed there were different contents inside. Like as if she had done more shopping, and had filtered through some of the contents. Only then did Jon realize that Yennefer must have changed him through magic, because she was wearing the clothes she had picked out for him. The fur undercoat, leather padding and a mail shirt (which he didn't recall them buying), the dark blue doublet over the top of that, and the light green cloak.

"Oh Yennefer," Ciri said as she realized what Yennefer meant, "you didn't have to…"

Yennefer drew out some of the clothes from the bag, and tossed them to Ciri. "It'd be a tragedy to find out that you'd frozen yourself to death, wouldn't it?"

"This feels a bit excessive, wouldn't you agree?" Ciri responded.

Jon sat up. Ciri told him that Skellige could get really cold during the winter months, though he felt a little bit hot at the moment. Even still, he knew it wouldn't be so excessive when they were beyond the Wall again. "Winter is coming," he reminded her.

"Fine," Ciri conceded, as she began the process of undressing. Jon didn't look away while she did, because she only undressed down to her undergarments. While she was putting the underlayer beneath her trousers on, her eyes fixated on the bag. "What's that black outfit in there for?"

"Well, if you ever feel the need to become ah… Cirilla of Vengerberg. The option is always yours," Lady Yennefer explained.

"Oh…" Ciri shot Jon a mischievous look, as if she were plotting all the ways she might be able to arouse him later on with the clothes Yennefer was giving him. "Uh… I don't need chainmail." She turned towards Geralt. "You don't wear it..."

"I do when I have to," he said, disagreeing. "Usually it pays to be quick, but you're quicker than I could ever be."

"You've got wildlings, monsters that shatter into little shards when they die, and a wide assortment of unknowns, Ciri. Witcher you may be, but you don't have their mutations- you don't have their immunity to toxins or the ability to heal as fast as Geralt does. You're safer with it on, I promise," Yennefer added. "Besides, what makes you think I haven't done work of my own on it?"

Ciri agreed to put it on, though it was long enough that it gave her an underskirt as she put her white blouse on over the top.

"You look good," Geralt said, when she was finished. "Like a witcher should."

She smiled. "Thank you, Yennefer." The two women shared an embrace.

When they finished, Jon had moved to her side, with their possessions between them. Ciri looked between them, having grown sad. "We needn't say goodbye," she told them. "I just don't know when we'll see each other again."

"You know where to find us," Geralt told her.

Ciri looked between them. "You're going to go to Kaer Morhen and stay there for the rest of your lives?"

Yennefer smiled a bit at the thought. "Maybe we should try that," she muttered.

Geralt shook his head though, "It doesn't matter. You'll find us wherever we are."

It seemed like Ciri was holding back tears.

"You're going to be fine, Ciri," Yennefer said. "You can handle yourself. It's your destiny, isn't it? You were destined to be a witcher."

That seemed to give her strength. "I'm going to miss you," she told the witcher and the sorceress.

"We will too," Geralt told her. "Take care, Ciri." Jon felt Ciri's hand slip into his, as she simultaneously grabbed their possessions. He closed his eyes, as for an instant, they traveled between worlds. When he opened them again, he was back home again, at the scene where his journey with Ciri had started. He readied himself for the new adventure that awaited them.

Author Notes:

Hope you had fun!