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starfirewildheart · 3 months

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Chapter 8

Summary: Some mysteries are revealed. Mentions of past abuse to Geralt and Naurel.

The Wolf and the Flame

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 2,274

Naurel sat on the small bed in the healing wing curled against Geralt’s side as he leaned against the headboard beside her. Jaskier had been treated with the herbs that she helped grow and Nennenke cleared the healing wing. It was now just the priestess, Geralt, Jaskier who was still asleep and her.

Nenneke looked at the redhead with expectant eyes but when she didn’t speak she pressed on. “How long have you known?”

“I..” how could she explain any of this? She didn’t know the answers herself so how could she tell them what they wanted to hear. Would Geralt leave her because she was a freak? Taking a moment to gather her courage she chose her words carefully. “I have known that my blood was different since I was a child. I got punished for breaking a dish and the master left me laying on the ground outside. When I stood up the grass was green where my blood had been. I thought it was just a trick of the eye, to be honest, but the more it happened the more I realized that I was,” she paused searching for the right word. “Evil?” It was the only word she could think of.

“Evil?” Geralt growled in question.

She nodded. “The master realized it was happening one day when he punished me for spilling his ale. He was a bit heavy-handed with the belt and my back had already been split from another lashing a few days earlier so the skin broke easier. I bled a lot that day and it caused some wildflowers to bloom. He kept calling me cursed and saying I was a child of the black sun so they took me to Queen Calanthe. Her healer did all sorts of tests on me,” she closed her eyes against the memories. “He told her I was too young to be a child of the black sun but then they started whispering and I couldn’t hear what they said. I know her eyes got really big and they kept looking over at me.” She hid her face against Geralt’s muscled arm as shame burned her skin. “After that, I was given to a new master and the healer sent a medication that they had to give me daily. Said it would stop the evil from growing in me. All my punishments after that were done inside and if I changed masters the queen chose who got me.”

Geralt looked over at Nenneke a moment before gently lifting Naurel’s chin so that she was looking at him. “If you had any evil in you my medallion would react to you, more than that I would feel it.”

She wanted to believe him but it didn’t make sense. “Maybe the medication hides it? The evil is still in my blood so it has to be true. You saw what it can do.”

“That is not an evil gift my child,” Nenneke shook her head. “That is a blessing from Melitele. Your blood is different but not all things that a different are bad. What’s happening with you,” she looked at Geralt then back to Naurel. “There is a legend as old as the convergence itself about beings that were sent here to protect those that protect the world from evil. They worked in unison with the first witchers boosting their strengths and mutations making them nearly unbeatable but it took its toll on their bodies. The first witchers were almost feral and only cared about the kill so they wouldn’t give their counterparts time to heal before using them again and they died out. Legend says that in a time of great need that Melitele would send them again.”

“Nephilim?” Geralt gasped. He’d heard the stories they grew up with them but he never believed. The first witchers were as brutal as the beasts they killed and wreaked havoc everywhere they went. They raped women, killed men for fun, and did whatever they wanted. Through the years they started to become tamer but even in Vesimer’s generation some of them were still brutal.” He remembered the tortures he and his fellow young witchers endured at their hands. Most of the things they did to the young boys were inhumane, to say the least, but they were mutants and no one cared what happened to them.

“It seems fate has spoken my dear witcher,” the priestess nodded. “Your specialness among the witchers, Ciri’s gifts, and now Naurel. You are all meant to be together, you’re a part of something big.”

“But if that were true then why wouldn’t I be able to do more? Why wouldn’t I be stronger?” Naurel didn’t believe it. There was no way she could be part angel. “I’m just a slave,” she insisted.

“The medication that the healer kept you on was to subdue your powers girl. Calanthe wanted it to be hidden just like she hid her own bloodline and kept Ciri in the dark. If people knew of your powers then they would begin to question things and everything she fought so long to hide would have come to light. Her family secrets would have been revealed and then she would have had to admit that she’d lied all those years. People would have come for Pavetta and if Ciri had even been born and they would have come for her too.”

Geralt hummed at her line of thinking knowing that she was probably right but what did it all mean. “We need to find out all the lore on this we can and find out how this ‘medication’ has affected Naurel long term.”

“I have a feeling that I know the answer to that,” Nenneke told him. “The blood sample Triss brought to me when Naurel first came to be with you, the blood had differences but the blood I took when she arrived here a few days ago? It is teeming with particles that are unlike any I have ever seen in other blood. The longer she goes without the medication the stronger she is going to get. I believe that the magic that we all feel on her is a binding spell as well to inhibit her from growing stronger and coming into her full powers.”

“Can you remove the magic?” Geralt asked.

“No,” Nenneke shook her head. “I have tried and I can’t but something tells me that Naurel will be able to break the magic’s hold herself when she is strong enough.” She paced in front of the bed for a moment, thinking. “There is much to learn still. As soon as Naurel is healed then you can start in my library but you know where you need to go for this sort of information. You are about the only one she will even see anymore.

Geralt nodded. They would indeed need to take a trip to see Finn. “We will go as soon as they are well enough to travel. I’m not going to leave Jaskier unprotected again either,” he looked over at his friend.

“I think some time spent at Kaer Morhen would do you all good before you go see Finn. Wait out the winter in the keep like witchers always do.”

“But is it safe to wait?” he argued.

“Safer than people seeing a witcher traveling with companions during the winter.”

He couldn’t argue that logic. It was true that most beasts hibernated in the cold so witchers used that time to heal and gather their energy until spring. It would be good to stay in one place for a while anyway. To just be able to spend some time together. “You know best my friend.”

“And it’s about time you admitted it,” she teased then left them.

Naurel was still trying to process everything that she’d heard. How was any of this even possible? Yeah, sure, she knew Geralt was special and even Ciri, but herself? Nope. No way. Not a chance. The only powerful part of her was that she’d learn to take a punch. How to survive on little to nothing and how to become invisible in a room full of people. She was lost in thought when she felt Geralt’s hand on her cheek. “Huh?”

“Are you alright?” he frowned. “I know that’s a lot to take in.”

“Are you alright?” she asked. “The girl you have feelings for is a freak whose blood can make plants grow and is some freakish offspring of an angel and a human who may or may not have great power and may or may not cause or help whatever great war is about to happen and oh, by the way, if she can’t get her shit together then you may be totally screwed because she’s supposed to be the one to help keep you safe but likely someone fucked up that bit because I mean, hello, it’s me” she gestured to herself, “and I always screw everything up and destroy everything I touch!” She was breathless when she finished because she’d said all that in one breath.

“You are not a freak.”

She sat up straighter and stared at him. “That’s all you got after all of that is that I’m not a freak?”

He chuckled and shrugged, “Destiny seemed to have gotten this one right. If you are so unsure of yourself then it’s a good thing I’m a witcher. You won’t hurt me while you are learning to deal with your powers and how to use them.”

She shook her head, “You are…” she couldn’t think of a word that would work to describe him.

“Wonderful? Amazing? Perfect?”

The smirk on his face had her fighting not to laugh. “Impossible.”

“Humm,” he leaned in and kissed her. Soft and gentle at first but soon his tongue was pressing against the seam of her petal-soft lips and he was pleasantly surprised when they parted allowing him access. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her so that she was half laying on top of him with one hand on her back and the other cupping the back of her head. Her small hand rested on his chest over his heart and he wanted nothing more than to flip her over and ravish her right there. He knew she still needed to heal before that could happen so he settled for lazily kissing and exploring what he could over her night gown.

Naurel finally pulled away from Geralt’s lips for no other reason than that she needed to breathe. Her eyes were glazed and her body tingled as she looked into his golden eyes longingly. His lips were red and kiss swollen and she knew hers must look the same and it left her feeling a bit debauched. It was a feeling she found she liked quite a bit but only because it was him that made her feel that way. She felt a rather large bulge pressed against her hip where her thigh rested between his and she pressed down ever so softly dragging across the bulge a bit. The soft gasp and almost unnoticeable buck of his hips was something she wanted to explore more. “Why witcher I think you’ve got a monster of your own there that needs to be tamed.”

“Be careful,” he smiled. “He’s been waiting to be set free for a long time now. He might not want to be put back in his confines once he’s out,” he teased her.

“He just needs lots of pets and kisses,” she smirked and pressed against him again causing his hips to buck. “And maybe a nice, warm, wet place to hide in for a bit.”

He growled low and deep as one big hand moved down to cup her ass under the sheet and he pressed their lips together in a kiss.

“I’m gonna puke,” a voice rasped from beside them.

“Jaskier?” They both sat up and moved to him. “How are you feeling?” Naurel asked as she took his hand.

“Not nearly as well as Geralt apparently,” he teased.

Geralt held a cup of water to his lips so he could wet his mouth then set it aside. “I'm so glad to see you awake,” he gripped Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Where are we?” he looked around trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “I remember seeing you and dwarves and catching a head,” he frowned.

“He rescued us and the dwarves brought us to the Temple of Nenneke,” Naurel explained. “We’ve been here nearly five days.”

“Five days?” He couldn’t believe he’d been asleep that long. “Yennefer,” he gasped trying to set up.

Geralt carefully pushed him back down. “She’s gone but harmless. Her magic has left her. She made a deal with the deathless mother but it backfired on her.”

“No, she got screwed over,” Jaskier said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Naurel’s hand that was holding his own.

Naurel nodded, “The fire fucker who gave her the potions to open a portal told her that he was working with Voleth Meir. He was the one who wanted Ciri and knew at the very least if he had us that you would come looking. He told Yennefer that you would have Ciri with you because after her betrayal you wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. “

Geralt shook his head. “It’s a good thing he was wrong then. I trust my brothers. Eskel, Coen, and Lambert are on Ciri watch.”

“Poor witchers,” Jaskier teased and laughed, causing a coughing fit.

Wolf and flame tag list

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multifandomfix · 9 days

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Beyond The Call Of Duty — Calanthe

Summary: You’re Ciri’s handmaiden, and a close confidant to the young princess, so when she finds out about your feelings for her grandmother, Queen Calanthe, you fear her seeing it as a betrayal to your duty.

Word Count: 977

Warnings: Some angst, tiny bit steamy at the end

You weren’t but 17 when you started caring for the newborn princess. Over the years you went from nanny to handmaiden, as the princess began to grow from a babe into a young woman. But most importantly, you became a friend and confidante for the girl who would one day be a queen.

You’d had your share of hardships that you had helped Ciri to survive and endure, and your presence in her life had helped shape the woman she was becoming. When her parents died, she only had you and her grandmother, Queen Calanthe, to rely on.

You’d always adored Calanthe, she was every bit a queen, a warrior and a friend. Yet respect and admiration had blurred over the years into something much deeper for you. You loved her.

Out of your sense of duty to Ciri, as well as to Calanthe herself, you never breathed the words aloud. There were times when you were absolutely fine with that decision, and other times where your heart ached at the mere sight of Calanthe. Even in those moments, you said nothing.

Being as busy as she was, Ciri hardly ever saw her grandmother and you at the same time. It was usually one or the other. You got her ready for dinners and for dances, and helped to make her more comfortable when they were over. And her grandmother was there for the middle of all of it.

The times she did see the two of you together, she started to notice a pattern. You had always been humble and kind in Calanthe’s presence, but there were times when you looked at her and your eyes held nothing but sadness. It took Ciri several years to understand the meaning of that sadness, but once she did, things changed.

One evening, as you brushed the princess’s long white hair, she asked you a question. You’d paused mid-stroke when the words had come out of her mouth.

“How long have you loved her?”

You tried to resume your brushing as casually as you could manage given how much her question had shaken you. “I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, as quickly as you were able to recover your voice.

“You know precisely what I mean,” Ciri insisted, trying to catch your eye in the mirror. You refused to meet her gaze.

It was then that Ciri spun around in her chair, her hair slipping from your hands as she looked to you with a pleading expression. “Answer me, please. I have a right to know.”

You supposed that was true enough. Yet still, you felt as if saying it would be a betrayal of Ciri’s trust. You were meant to be her handmaid and nothing more. Even if Ciri did consider you a friend, that would all be over when you finally told her of the secret you’d been keeping for so many, many years.

“I don’t know exactly how long it’s been,” you finally answered. It was the truth. The change from admiration to love had not been something that simply occurred one night. It had taken months, maybe years to realize that your feelings had changed at all.

“But you love her still?” You felt a pull of longing in your chest, all but answering the princess’s question.

“I do.”

“How good to know.” The voice came from the doorway, where you and Ciri both looked to see Calanthe standing there.

“I—” you swallowed, feeling a lump rising in your throat as you tried to explain. “I never meant anything improper.”

“I know. You’ve been a faithful servant for many years. You could have thrown that all away to throw yourself at me, lord knows others have done so. But you chose your duty. Why?”

What was it with this family and the hard questions, you wondered as you tried to formulate an answer. “It’s always come first,” you settled on. “It was more important to me to be by Ciri’s side and support your family than it was to take a foolish chance on my own selfish desires.”

“I don’t know if I’d say they were foolish,” Calanthe responded. For a moment, you weren’t sure what she meant by that. When your face changed from confusion to realization, Calanthe spoke to her granddaughter. “Cirilla, the room please, just for a moment.”

“Of course.” Ciri dismissed herself and shut the door behind her, granting you and Calanthe some privacy.

“I do admire your dedication, but happiness is not selfish. I believe you have earned your share of it, if you’re willing to take it.”

Even in the candlelight, you could see the glint of challenge in Calanthe’s eye. Was she really presenting you with such an opportunity? To be happy? To be hers? You didn’t wish to presume in case you were wrong but…her offer may not last forever.

Already standing so close, it was not difficult for you to bridge the gap between your bodies. It was as if your body had willed itself towards her. It was without thinking that you kissed her. It was desperate, perhaps more so than you would have liked for your first, but it was what you needed if it was to be your last with her.

She kissed you back, matching your energy and biting your bottom lip. When you finally pulled away, you were left with heaving breaths as you waited for your heart to return to its normal rhythm.

“I hope you know that you need not deny yourself any longer. You have always been a part of this family and I could ask for no one more loyal to have at my side. You may continue on as Ciri’s handmaid at your own discretion. Regardless what you decide, I hope you will remain in our lives in whatever capacity you deem fit.”

For anon

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Ciri laid in the tub, steam rising from the water, which worked wonders on her aching muscles. The water itself was scented with special oils which were meant to help her relax, but given the situation she was in right now, relaxing was nearly impossible right now.

After the young girl had disclosed to the king, prince, princess, and small council who she really was, there was silence followed by a short uproar by the council.

Some had questioned if Ciri's claim was true, and thought her as just some common girl in rags, others believed she was who she said she was, but then became concerned if word got out that the royal family was now hosting Ciri when there were people out there who were looking for her.

Viserys luckily shut down the commotion with a single word. He ordered the council out of the throne room and had you, Ciri, and Aemma shown out to your rooms. Daemon stayed behind, mostly likely to get scolded by his brother, and Daemon meanwhile would try and persuade Viserys to proclaim Aemma true born so she could bare the Targaryen name.

As soon as Ciri was shown to her room, the servants came later and prepared her a bath. Despite being in a foreign land, this aspect of life was still familiar to the girl.

In the present, Ciri laid in the tub, grateful that she was able to get cleaned. She fully submerged herself into the water and stayed there until the need to air was too great. She popped her head up to the surface, taking in a deep breath before leaning back.

She heard the doors open, but she didn't think nothing of it, assuming it was the servants coming in to bring extra towels.

"Princess Cirilla?" Ciri flinched, hearing that voice call her name. She recognized it to be Rhaenyra, "May I come in?"

Ciri thinks about it for a moment before making her answer, "I guess that would be okay." Ciri wasn't all that shy about being naked in front of others of the same sex, and even if she was, the water was blurred enough to shield her from view.

Rhaenyra walks in, a plate of fruit in hand, "the servants were bringing this when I decided to visit," she explains, taking a grape and popping it into her mouth before placing the plate at the table by the tub.

"Thank you," Ciri nods, reaching to take some fruit herself. There was some awkward silence after that. Ciri was new to this whole place; she didn't know what to do or what to say. She must've made an impression though if the king's daughter wanted to come visit her at this time of day.

"I uh, had to wait for the water to cool a bit before I got in," Ciri admits, "do they always make the bath water this scalding hot?" "Force of habit I'm afraid?" Rhaenyra admits, "dragons prefer heat."

"I'm not a dragon," Ciri mutters, more to herself, though Rhaenyra heard it, "I'm a lion cub."

"You grandmother is Queen Calanthe, right?" Rhaenyra asks, "the Lioness of Cintra?" "Yes she...was," Ciri nods, sadness in her voice from re-living that particular memory. "Oh, I...I'm sorry, " Rhaenyra says when she takes notice, "I didn't know. I heard what happened in Cintra...with Nilfgaard...but I didn't know how bad it was."

"My grandfather died in the battlefield," Ciri explains, "my grandmother died during the siege; she was already gravely injured from fighting during the initial battle-" "You grandmother fought?" Rhaenyra asked, "she wore armor and everything? Carrying a sword?"

"She did," Ciri nods, "She could wield sword as well as any man. Very few men actually ever bested her in combat." Rhaenyra smiled to that, "I wish I could learn to wield a sword. My father won't allow it. I don't know why, my forebear Aegon the Conqueror, his wives were warriors themselves; they were skilled sword fighters in their own right."

"It sounds like you admire my grandmother," Ciri notices.

"I'd like to think of her as my inspiration," Rhaenyra admits, "for when I become queen."

Ciri looked at the Targaryen princess in confusion, "my father named me Heir to the Iron Throne months back," Rhaenyra explains, "it happened shortly after my mother passed." "I'm sorry to hear that," Ciri says, "I never got to know my own mother, she died when I was still a babe. You must miss her dearly." "Yeah, I still do," Rhaenyra nods, "it hasn't been easy, even less after my father decided to marry my friend."

"Oh...so the woman that was next to your father was..." "Alicent Hightower."

Ciri nods; she had taken notice there was tension between those two back in the throne room earlier. At first, she would've chalked it up to tension that came between a girl and her new stepmother, but she didn't know those two were friends before that. It must be quite an awkward situation.

"Do you think, you'll still be heir, even if the new queen ends producing male heirs?" "I will be," Rhaenyra insists, "my father swore that I would, no matter what."

"Is there another reason you came to visit?" Ciri asks, "while I'm bathing of all things?" Rhaenyra couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well," the Targaryen princess answers, "since you'll be staying with us for the time being, I was hoping we could be friends."

Ciri regarded Rhaenyra with intrigue; the silver blonde princess was a few years older than her, and despite how she felt about the princess's uncle, there seemed to be a kindred spirit among the two.

And even if she had you, Ciri knew she was going to need a friend who knew this place if she was to survive and protect Aemma. "I would be honored to be your friend, princess," Ciri answers, "assuming His Grace allows me to stay."

Rhaenyra smiled at that, "if he doesn't, I'll change his mind. I don't imagine my father would be callous enough to toss you back to the wolves."

----------meanwhile in the small council chamber-------

"With all due respect, your Grace, this girl cannot be allowed to stay here any longer then she needs," Otto states.

Since the start of the meeting, the small council had been bickering amongst one another about little Ciri remain a guest under the king's roof.

"So you would have me cast this young girl out," Viserys counters, "thrown back to the place she was held captive in perhaps?"

"Of course not," Otto says, "but she certainly not stay here."

"She is the princess of Cintra," Lyonel Strong speaks up, "If the tales in the Continent are to be believed, she was the sole survivor of the siege by the armies of Nilfgaard. To survive that along with being held captive by a pack of mutants, she's been through a lot."

"Armies that are still looking for this girl as we speak," Corlys adds.

"What could they possibly want with the likes of her?" Mellos frowns. "That...is not known," Corlys admits, "but since her grandmother had reportedly perished in the siege that makes princess Cirilla next in line to inherited the Cintran throne. One could only assume Nilfgaard means to capture her so as to further secure a claim to those lands."

"All the more reason that this princess must be sent away," Otto says, "if foreign powers across the sea discover we harbor their highly sought after treasure, they may have cause to lay siege to King's Landing."

"You speak of the girl as if she were an object to possess, not some girl who's probably been through more then any of us could ever imagine," Corlys argues.

"She is a pawn in a foreign game we have no business getting involved in," Otto argues back, "the longer this girl stays here, the more we risk putting the peoples lives in danger should Nilfgaard come looking for her."

"if you ask me, I think Prince Daemon knew who she was this whole time," Otto continues, "probably brought her here to cause trouble." "Daemon has assured me he did not know of Cirilla's true identity before he brought her to King's Landing," Viserys assures, "I see no reason why he would lie about that."

"What would the prince even hope to gain by provoking conflict with Nilfgaard?" Lyonel asks. "What other reason then for glory?" Otto points out, "abduct the girl, bait their armies to come this way, all to come out of it as a hero for the people to see?"

"Enough!" Viserys shouts, bringing the room to complete silence, and receiving the council's undivided attention, "regardless of the circumstances of how and why Cirilla was brought here, she is a guest in my house, and will be treated as such. As far as we know, no one outside these walls knows we are hosting the princess, therefore, I see no threat from powers outside Westeros."

"Your Grace-" "Princess Cirilla will remain here for the time being," Viserys states above Otto, "I will not cast her onto the streets or anywhere else to fend for herself just because of the remote possibility of conflict with an outside threat. That is final."

Otto was left with nothing else to say; clearly the king was not going to change his mind on his matter. Now the Hand was wondering if he would convince Viserys to change his mind on the next matter, "very well," he says, "and what of the other girls you currently play host to? Daemon's whore...and his bastard?"

While the small council argued over this next sensitive subject, unknown to them, Daemon was listening in on this part of the conversation.

The prince wanted to make sure that whatever arguments were going to be made, Viserys would make his decision that would be in Daemon's favor.

If it wouldn't be the case, then Daemon would do everything in his power to make his brother change his mind.

But considering you had named his daughter after the late queen, Daemon wasn't too worried.

---------------------

Meanwhile you were holding onto Aemma, rocking her as she started to fall asleep.

After the council had been dismissed from the throne room, you were shown to your old rooms. Not much had actually changed, except the stuff you left behind had been removed.

Some time afterwards, several nurses had come to attend to Aemma while servants came to prepare your bath. You were a little surprised they would go to this much trouble for a bastard born baby, but apparently it was on Daemon's orders.

You were hesitant to leave Aemma in the care of strangers, but the bath did sound enticing and if anything you at least trusted that Daemon wouldn't put his daughter in harm's way; if anything he would've taken precautions to avoid that.

Aemma fussed though the moment you handed her to one of the nurses. She continued to cry as they took her away. You felt guilty, but you turned to the tub and undressed so as to clean yourself.

At least the servants were nice enough to bring food while you bathed.

They were also nice enough to leave you alone, which gave you enough privacy to cry your eyes out; something you didn't have the luxury to do since arriving in King's Landing, since being taken away from Kaer Morhen and from Geralt. You were ripped away from the life you had built for yourself and for your daughter, back to the place you were trying to keep Aemma away from in the first place.

Now that everyone in the Red Keep knew about Aemma, it was only a matter of time before the political games started, games that would use put your daughter in the center as a pawn, especially if Viserys had her proclaimed true born.

At this moment, this castle, despite its comfort, was feeling more like a prison compared to Kaer Morhen.

You needed to somehow get away, get your daughter away from all this. And Ciri too; who knows what kind of drama the small council would try and get Ciri involved in should they decide to for whatever reason to make Ciri a pawn in their games.

When you finished bathing, you got dressed and went to Aemma's room. A nurse had been holding her, apparently trying to get her to sleep, but the girl had been screaming and crying the whole time you were gone.

Much to the relief of the poor woman, you took Aemma and started to rock her; the babe calming down almost immediately.

As she started to fall asleep, you kiss the top of her head and sing her a lullaby.

There once was a lord in dark woods

Wearing a strange silver band

Around his hand

The band was charmed with ore from stars

Bidding all monsters away

Away

On that quiet eve

Among these trees

A bandit slew the good lord

Stealing that band

Off a dead man's hand

For the bandit also feared

Monsters.

"Quite a morbid tune from someone such as yourself, Little Lark," you hear Daemon's voice.

You sigh, turning around and holding a sleeping Aemma tight as you face the man who had stolen you from the safety of your old life and into the jaws of a new, dangerous life.

Chapter 14.5

Masterlist

#ciri #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #corlys velaryon #viserys targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen #hotd #the witcher

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littleladymab · 3 months

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FebruarOC - Masterpost

Okay I'm still trying to figure out the best method for cross-posting and I think the answer is I cross-post the rambling here and then if you want to read any of the drabbles or see character sheets you'll have to go to my patreon for that -- everything for this event is available to the public! Posts will go up there at my usual posting time (10am pacific) and up here in the evenings when I get home from work.

So I'll have a masterpost here that will be updated in chunks (probably over the weekends) with links to the characters (for ✨fuuuuuun✨)

Please enjoy a month of me talking about my OCs!

A: Altra - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] B: Beryl - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] C: Calanthe - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] D: Damaris - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] E: Elżbieta - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] F: Fe + Finn - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] G: Ghoti - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] H: Horatio - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] I: Ianto - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] J: Jocelyn - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] K: Ky - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] L: Larel - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] M: Mateen - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] N: Nicholai - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] O: Othello - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] P: Penelope - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] Q: Quin - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] R: Ren - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] S: Sam - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] T: Tempest - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] U: Uriah - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] V: Vines - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] W: Winston - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] X: Xochitl - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] Y: Yewan - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] Z: Zoe - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] 1: Faradian - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] 2: Carroway - [Tumblr] || [Patreon] 3: Kaedmon - [Tumblr] || [Patreon]

#februaroc #a lil miss original #lil miss writings

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bookcalanthedaily · 4 months

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Okay I need more details on Camilla, I love sad women. Please

camilla didn't always feel like she was in her sister's shadow, to be honest. they loved each other and were very close UNTIL calanthe sent her away to temeria, which was the point at which the resentment started building. she was homesick and missed her sister who was now busy being queen and after being sent away despite BEGGING to be allowed to stay in cintra, she felt like the letters from calanthe asking how she was doing were insencere. she felt like 1) calanthe sent them because it was expected of her, not because she really cared 2) she didn't really care about her honest answers because if she said she didn't want to be in temeria, she hated her husband, and she wanted to go back home, like, realistically, what was calanthe gonna do? take her back?

also, camille was 16 when she got married off, and started giving birth almost immediatelly. she gave birth to 6 children in the span of 9 years until she finally had a boy and her husband was satisfied which. oof.

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melisusthewee · 7 months

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Hi Mel, happy Friday! For Horatio, from the dialogue prompts, how about "It wasn't your fault."? Hope you are inspired!

Thank you for such a great prompt! I really liked being able to focus on Morris as just a solo piece where he's in those awkward young adult years but also getting a chance to do a bit of world building surrounding the ins and outs of the Grand Tourney.

I Want to Be Ser Morris Word Count: 1,124 words Rating: PG for @dadrunkwriting

Ser Horatio Morris never pulled his punches. He'd been taught that you never swung a fist or bludgeon or any such thing unless you meant it. That had been a problem the first time he stepped into the melee ring, dressed in piecemeal armour and clutching a blunted hand axe that he knew looked more like a hatchet than anything else.

Which was why he now sat on a patch of grass, his face smeared with sweat and dirt and a vacant expression on his face as a lone elf swept fresh sand to hide the splatter of blood Morris - no, his opponent - had left behind when two healers had dragged the man's lifeless body out of the ring.

Because he never pulled his punches. Because he didn't know how to. Because his first opponent had a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, and had taken one look at Morris and his ill-fitting iron that clanked and rattled as he moved, and asked him whose arse he'd buggered to get himself entry and a fancy title.

So Morris had hit him, because wasn't that the point of the melee? And Morris had made sure to hit him hard to show him that the "ser" had been properly earned. The strike had been sudden and quick, because Morris had a friend who had taught him that opportunity and surprise were sometimes more important than brute strength. But in Morris' sudden burst of movement, he had not quite turned the hand axe so the flat edge of the head made impact. Where he had intended to simply knock the man backwards or perhaps daze him, he had instead cleaved off part of his jaw and left him bleeding in the dirt.

His first tourney. His first match. And he'd maimed someone.

At first he thought he'd be arrested or at the very least disqualified. But while the adjucator blew the horn to end the match, Morris was declared the victor and told to clean up, rest up, and prepare for the next round. Morris didn't want to move on to the next round. He wanted to go be sick somewhere and then he thought he very much wanted his mother.

"Your gear will rust if you just let it sit there." A familiar gravely voice broke through the fog filling Morris' head. He looked up to see Ser Calanth, his old mentor now even older and somehow smaller than he ought to be. Morris wasn't used to seeing him out of his jousting armour and down on the ground without a horse.

"Did you see what happened?" Morris asked hesitantly. If he felt bad for having sliced open a man's face, he knew he was about to feel even worse under the gaze of the man who was practically a second father to him.

"Not many people can say they won their very first match with their very first swing," came the answer. "I think it could have used a little more showmanship for the crowd's benefit, but you'll get better at that with time."

"You what?" Morris turned and stared at the old man incredulously. Was Calanth going blind in his old age? That could be the only explanation for why he was praising Morris for what he had done.

But Ser Calanth's gaze was as sharp and steady as ever as he looked at Morris. "People bleed in the melee, lad. They come away with bruises and cuts and all sorts of injuries. Half of them don't even have proper armour. It's why they dull the weapons. Did you think when you chose to do this that you would go your entire career without hurting anyone?"

"You never did," said Morris. He'd always thought that Calanth was one of the kinder knights in the joust, perhaps because he didn't have the same drive for glory and fame that so many of the others did. He'd treated Morris well as a boy which wasn't something every squire in the Grand Tourney could always claim. Morris had looked up to him, and had grown up wanting to be the sort of knight he felt he was.

Only Morris wasn't very good on a horse and couldn't afford one anyway. He'd arrived at this year's tourney having borrowed his father's draft horse which was good for ploughing fields and pulling carts but not much else. He wasn't built for jousting anyways as he'd grown from an average-looking boy into a broad shouldered and stocky young man. He was made to hit things from on the ground, not atop a horse. But he hadn't wanted it to be like this.

"I'm sure every man who was knocked off his horse by the impact of my lance would disagree."

Morris knew it was intended to comfort him, but he didn't think their circumstances were the same.

The elf had finished up their sweeping of the sand. The next two challengers on the list were preparing to square off against one another. All evidence of Morris' fight was gone.

"You're a good lad, Morris, you always have been," said Calanth after a time, "but you're a soft one too. We're all here performing various kinds of blood sport for entertainment. When your opponent bleeds, it isn't your fault. It's his for not being quicker or smarter."

When Morris didn't say anything, Calanth added, "You can always quit if you want. It's a choice to be here and you can go back home if being a farmer is what you prefer. You should be making this choice for yourself, not because you feel you owe me."

Morris looked up at that, frowning slightly. He had wanted knighthood for years. He was grateful to Ser Calanth for the education he provided and the allowance he had always been able to bring home to his parents, but that wasn't why he was here. Squiring had been a job, no different than all the work he'd done on his father's pig farm. But Morris had kept at it because he had decided long ago that he wanted very much to become a knight instead of a farmer. He'd seen other boys grow up and disappear from the tourney either because they weren't good enough or didn't want it. But Morris wasn't one of them. He wanted to be here, he wanted to fight and drink and be a knight. He just hadn't expected it to feel like this.

"I don't want to be a farmer," he said softly. "I want to be Ser Morris."

"Do you?" asked Ser Calanth.

"Yes," said Morris, and then more firmly, "yes, more than anything."

"On your feet then, lad, and get yourself watered. There are more matches to come."

#oc: horatio morris #dadwc #the grand tourney #dragon age #melis writes stuff

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askcintra · 8 months

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what do y'all think about Cirntra and Skellige forming a personal union through the marriage of Ciri and Cerys?

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laurikarauchscat · 5 months

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Ask game!

Which actors/actresses would you headcast as your (books/games) blorbos? I'm going to drop Calanthe and Pavetta on you but wouldn't stop you at others (Lara?!)

[this is going to sound quite cursed, but before I actually watched Our Flag Means Death, I thought the actor who plays Izzy would fit the look of Emhyr quite well if he kept the hair but shaved the beard and wore better clothes]

Anyway: serious now 👨‍💻

Im going to answer, but these are not really concrete. Like, the people I have in my head are made of vibes - which is why my faces are never consistent 🤦‍♀️

Calanthe: Kate Blanchette

Pavetta: Anya-Taylor Joy

Lara Dorren: Sienna Guillroy

#queen calanthe #calanthe of cintra #pavetta fiona elen #pavetta #Calanthe #lara dorren #lara dorren aep shiadhal

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avatarskywalker78 · 10 months

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Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher) & Original Female Character(s), Jaskier ︱Dandelion & Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Female Character(s), Eist Tuirseach & Original Female Character(s), Cirilla Fiona Elen Rhiannon & Original Female Characters

Characters: OC: Áine an Tordarroch, Eskel (The Witcher), Jaskier ︱Dandelion, OC: Ksenia, Eist Tuirseach, Calanthe Fiona Rhiannon, Cirilla Fiona Elen Rhiannon, Pavetta (The Witcher), Crach an Craite, Original Characters, Original Animal Character(s), Duny (The Witcher)

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Male-Female Friendship, Female Friendship, Non-Chronological, Families of Choice, The Skellige Isles (The Witcher), Fate & Destiny, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Insecure Eskel (The Witcher), Immortal Jaskier ︱Dandelion, Human Jaskier ︱Dandelion, This never gets explained, Also he's unaware for a while, Season/Series 01, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Developing Friendships, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Book-Canon Eskel, POV Multiple, Áine looking at Eskel like 'is anyone going to befriend him' and not waiting for an answer, Áine befriends three immortals and wonders how this happened, Tags May Change

Series: the warrior, the witcher, the firebird and the bard

Summary: When Áine an Tordarroch starts travelling to the Continent, she doesn't expect to make any friends at all - least of all a Witcher and two bards - and for their part none of them had ever had a friend quite like her. A tale of four very different people across the years, and the growing friendship that binds them together.

#OC: Áine an Tordarroch #Eskel #Jaskier #OC: Ksenia #The Witcher #The Witcher Netflix #the warrior the witcher the firebird and the bard

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thebansacredbanned · 5 months

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Tagged by @wishthefish!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

123... somehow... oh wait i know how its bc i did whumptober

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

392,687

3) What fandoms do you write for?

Currently: The Untamed/MDZS, Nirvana in Fire, A League of Nobleman, The Blood of Youth [screaming, crying, trying please i need more people to write tBoY fic my crops are dying], The Disguiser [sometimes]. I'm also working on a few ideas for Mysterious Lotus Casebook which I finished last week

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So these are all from back when I was actually writing the most popular pairing for a popular fandom, as opposed to now where I'm either writing the Rarest of rare-pairs or for fandoms that have <100 english fics so:

Yellow Petals - The Witcher, Geraskier, hanahaki

I Would Know Him In Death (At The End of the World) - Les Mis, E/R, les amis are reincarnated greek heroes

Butter-cup of Tea - The Witcher, Geraskier, round robin me and @nemainofthewater wrote together that I'm sure had a plot

as I reckon with the effects of your life on mine - The Witcher, Jaskier & Valdo Marx, another one by me and Nemain where I wrote Jaskier's letters and Nemain wrote Valdo Marx's

Know the Water's Sweet but Blood is Thicker - The Witcher, Jaskier is Calanthe's brother, yikes I never finished that one oops

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to (sometimes I forget though lol)! It feels nice to have some kind of interactions with other fans, plus that's how I made friends with @wishthefish so there's always a risk chance of getting to know people ;P

6) What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hahhaahahahahahahaahahahhah

ummmm all of them?

it's probably 'You left me here behind, do you not care?' which has very little room for any hope at all come the end

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

this is actually harder than the angst one, somehow. like happy? are any of truly happy??

I'm restricting it to things I wrote this year and I'm going to say As we walk with the sun hand in hand from the wreck, which is the 'happy ending' stem of the Xuyao choose your own adventure thing I was working on this year

8) Do you get hate on fics?

I did once, but it was for a fandom I was already over in a work I wasn't like 100% sold on anyway and I found it kind of funny

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No but as I put in a group chat the other day "every day i inch closer to writing porn and i am not happy about it".

To be fair I don't think I'll ever write full-blown smut, and generally I find that, for what I'm writing at least, having things left implied is better bc then people can imagine whatever they want (and I don't have to write it)

10) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do in fact have a NiF/Untamed bodyswap crossover in my docs which I either need to write more of or decide that I'm not going to write any more of and just post as is

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! There's a French translation of I Would Know Him in Death (At the End of the World)!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have several co-written fic with @nemainofthewater - we share a braincell so it's always a lot of fun

14) What's your all-time favorite ship?

See that's a. that's a question that I'm finding WAY harder to answer than it should be.

Probably E/R (Enjolras/Grantaire) from Les Miserables. Like R is still my tumblr/ao3 picture (and my phone home screen), I might now actually be in the fandom so much any more but forever in my heart etc

15) What's a wip that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh man I just went on my posted works on ao3 and I have a les mis fencing au that I last updated in 2020. That's never going to to happen

16) What are your writing strenghts?

Lets see how much angst I can fit in a very small amount of words 😈

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle finishing anything longer than about 2k which is a pain bc I have lots of ideas that deserve a lot more words than I can focus on writing for them

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's cool when people do it (especially if they have hover-ovre translations)! I haven't ever tried and am unlikely to any time soon

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Turn! (actually the first fandom I wrote for was Hamilton but that never saw the light of day and NEVER WILL)

I'm going to tag @nemainofthewater @luzzeagain @woobifiedvillain and anyone else who feels like it!

#ask game

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