For the Whumpcember prompt 1 "Broken bones" and the Witcher Yuletide Calendar Door 2 "Shooting star/Comet"
Here is an alternate, happier ending instead of the one in chapter 5
It is close to midnight, when they decide to go outside into the yard together to have some fresh air. Vesemir quickly gets his huge drinking horn and fills it almost to the brim with mead. Everybody puts on their thick winter coats and gloves and hats, for it is cold outside and there is a lot of snow, but that is as it should be. After all, it is Yule in he middle of winter in the Blue Mountains.
When they open the door and step outside into the winter night, they can see a strange spectacle in the sky. Not only has the comet that appeared a few days ago grown tremendously in size and is brighter than ever, but it seems to break apart into a myriad of tiny shooting stars. They fall from the sky, a stunningly beautiful curtain of light, and disappear beyond the blackness of the high mountain tops. They watch, spellbound. Not even Vesemir has ever seen anything like it.
"Ah, finally," Regis sighs, having appeared out of thin air next to Geralt. "I must admit, I was a bit worried that this one would not disintegrate on hitting our planet's atmosphere, but cause a major extinction event. Looks like we were lucky."
"An extinction event?" Geralt knits his brow. "Like an apocalypse? And you didn't deem it worth mentioning to me?"
"What could you have done to prevent it, Geralt? Not a thing. And, instead of enjoying the festive season and the excellent company, you would have spent the last days in fear of your lives. Only to find out it wasn't necessary."
"Right. What I don't know—"
"—won't hurt me," Regis finishes Geralt's sentence as he so often does, one of his equally annoying as endearing idiosyncrasies. Perhaps the higher vampire is right, too, the Witcher has to admit. In the event of a truly apocalyptic catastrophe, Ciri might have been able to flee to a different sphere, but would she have wanted to do so, would she have agreed to leaving them all behind to die? Geralt doubts it, not after everything that happened. It is a moot point anyway. The world is still standing and they are here, together. He turns to Ciri and gives her a tight hug.
"Careful, the mead!" she warns, surprised. But Istredd has already taken the horn from her hand before she can spill more of its precious content.
"To not an apocalypse. Cheers!" he says, raises the horn and takes a swig. Then he passes it on to Triss.
"Daddy, you're smothering me," Ciri laughs after a minute or two.
"And you better save some hugs for me, Wolf, it's fucking cold out here, you know," Jaskier complains. "Can we go inside now, before I freeze to death?"
"Right, I forgot you're such a cold-weather whimp, Jask." Grinning, Geralt lets go of Ciri and wraps his arms around his indeed slightly shivering lover. "What about a midnight bath in the hot springs?" he whispers into his ear, "just the two of us? To warm you up again?"
Jaskier beams at Geralt. Somehow, with all the busy Yule preparations and the drama of the collapsed tower, they have not been to the legendary hot springs yet, a mistake that must be rectified. And which night would be better than this one? They wish their friends a good night. Then, locked in a tight embrace, the two lovers head back to the keep.
"How is Cahir?" Yennefer asks, taking Regis's hand. It is not something Yennefer often does with people, except for with Jaskier maybe, but it is usually the bard who takes her hand, not the other way around. She values her personal space. However during the far too many days and nights of worrying at Cahir's sickbed, the sorceress and the barber-surgeon have become close friends.
"Don't worry, my dear," Regis says with a smile through pursed lips, like so often before. "I gave him something for the pain. He'll be sound asleep until late in the morning. But," he adds with a wink, "I don't think he would mind if a certain someone held his hand during the night, or shared his bed."
"I guess not." Yennefer smiles up at the grizzled-haired higher vampire, her purple eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And thank you." Then she gives Ciri a hug and a kiss. "Good night, my daughter," she whispers into her ear. "Have fun. And don't do anything that I wouldn't do."
"Sure, you only had sex on a stuffed unicorn," Ciri giggles, but so quietly that nobody except Yennefer can hear it. Well, maybe Regis with his heightened bat senses, but he does not comment and keeps a perfectly straight face. Only his black eyes sparkle with amusement. "Good night, mommy. And don't worry. I'm a big girl," Ciri adds.
Yennefer nods, gives her a quick peck on the forehead, turns around and walks toward the main building of the keep. Her sleeping, sick lover is waiting. No sex for her tonight, neither with nor without a stuffed unicorn, and probably not for quite a while, yet it does not matter. As long as Cahir is getting better, she is happy.
Ciri has another sip of mead from the horn that Dara holds out to her, then passes it on to Coen. She takes Dara's hand. "Want to go for a walk with me? You aren't cold, are you?"
Dara shakes his head. How could he be cold standing so close to her, with her warm hand in his, with her emerald eyes looking at him in this special way, playful and full of promise?
They run off together through the snow. And Ciri knows exactly what she wants to do with him. First a little race to stay warm, then some more stargazing from the top of the battlements, wrapped in each other's arms for more warmth, and finally one of her favourite places. The stables. She loves the smell of horses and hey, and there is this big pile of fresh straw that will be their bed. A bed with no Witchers with their annoyingly sharp sense of hearing around, nor a nosy bard or a worried witch, just the horses, maybe a mouse or two, and this devilishly handsome young elf. She cannot wait to kiss his dark skin, to feel his fingers all over her naked body, his hot lips on hers. Has she ever felt so giddy with anticipation and - lust? She scoops up two handfuls of fresh snow and throws the white fluff at Dara. He laughs and pushes her into the soft white blanket covering the ground like the fluffiest of duvets. Then he kisses her, a little shyly at first, but when she draws him closer and parts her lips for him, he becomes more confident, passionate.
Perhaps they should skip the star gazing part of her plan? Ciri wonders briefly between kisses. The stars will still be there tomorrow.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
It is already late in the morning when Cahir begins to stir next to Yennefer. Yennefer puts away the book she was reading in bed - she must have read through half of Kaer Morhen's library by now - and takes his hand in hers. Hazily, he blinks up at her.
"Good morning, darling. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"
"Hmm." He grimaces, squinting his eyes.
"Headache? Shall I get Regis?"
"No. Don't— don't go." He is still horribly pale in the dim light of the room and his voice is hoarse and laced with agony.
"Here, darling, have something to drink. Think you can you sit up a little?"
Cahir does not answer but tries to move into a half sitting position. He groans and bites his lip from the jolt of pain from his bruised ribs and broken bones. The magic has set the bones and stopped the bleeding, but it will take weeks for the complicated fractures to heal properly. Maybe they never will, like Geralt's leg that still gives him trouble once in a while despite the druids' superiour healing methods. And they do not know yet what damage the skull fracture might have caused.
Quickly, Yennefer puts a couple of pillows in his back for support.
"Alright?"
"Hmm." Cahir breathes heavily from the effort, his eyes closed. Yennefer gives his hand a squeeze and waits for a moment until his breathing has slowed down and he looks at her again.
"Here you go, the tea will do you good, love. Regis's special blend. It is a tad bitter, but I've added a little honey, just for you." She holds the cup to Cahir's lips and he drinks thirstily. When the cup is empty, he closes his eyes, utterly exhausted.
"Now sleep some more, darling." Yennefer gives his hand another squeeze. It feels too clammy for her liking, but not limp like when he was unconscious for so many days. "You'll be better soon, I promise," she says and plants a tender kiss on his cheek. "I love you."
"Mmh." He wants to tell her the same thing, say that he loves her with all his heart, but he is too tired and his brain too foggy to form the words. In less than a minute, he is fast asleep again.
Yennefer sighs. It will be a long road to recovery. She will probably have read through the other half of the library by the time Cahir is fully healed.
Yet, it is a start.