w i t c h e r (exxiled) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2021-04-06 19:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, ciri, geralt |
WHO: Geralt + Ciri
WHERE: dining room
WHEN: april 3, dinner
WHAT: fatherly talk with his adoptive daughter
STATUS: completed
WARNINGS: pg13 (cuteness overload, mentions of boyfriends)
And when this dirty world has been cold to you, I got two strong arms waitin' to hold you. And when those mean days come along - We'll stand together and we'll take 'em on. So if you need me just call my name Geralt felt that he was becoming spoiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had lived anywhere that had so many unlimited luxuries. There had been castles and palaces he’d been inside that were far grander but he’d never stayed in one for so long. Staying in a dungeon didn’t count. And even when he was invited, he rarely accepted it. Witchers didn’t need soft beds or fat bellies. A lazy witcher was a dead witcher. But it was hard to ignore all the food that the hotel had to offer. Cooking wasn’t a strong talent of his but Geralt knew enough to get by. A full stomach didn’t care about taste. He had been experimenting lately, though, with a few of the herbs and spices. Loosely experimenting. Geralt wasn’t all that picky when it came to food but he didn’t want to make something that not even he would eat. And tonight, he had made a vegetable stew for him and Ciri so he had put in more effort than normal. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it,” Geralt did bother to remind her as he set down the bowls on the table. The kitchen wasn’t far but the dining hall was huge. It took him one more trip to bring out the basket of bread and fruit for them as well as drinks. Once he finally sat down, he smiled and nodded to her. “Alright then. Judge away. How did I do?” It was nice to spend one on one time with Geralt. Usually Jaskier was around, not that Ciri minded the bard, but she did need more time with just her adopted father too. With the room move, she had her alone time with Yennefer, she got to go bowling with Jaskier earlier in the month, and now, she had her time with Geralt. Staying in touch with people from home, even if they were not the exact ones, settled the nervousness in the pit of her stomach that around the corner everything could change severely. Watching Geralt go back into the kitchen, she stirred the bowl smiling at the memories of past meals danced in her head. He really had never been much of a cook, but he tried when the other Witchers weren’t cooking for her. Taking a deep breath of the steam, she tasted it before he came back out. Grabbing a chunk of bread, Ciri dipped it into the stew. “It needs more salt, but overall, well done,” she smirked. “Better than the last meal back home.” Geralt knew that they didn’t have the same memories together and that at times, though she tried not to show it, that bothered Ciri. He supposed he would feel the same. Jaskier had mentioned not that long ago what they might do if one of them lost their memories of each other. He had shrugged it off, seemingly unworried but the truth was, he would be as devastated as Ciri. So he was softer when she was around. Or as soft as he knew how to be. He made sure to be near if she needed him, and near even when she didn’t. Any request she made was never too small or too big. “More salt? Hm.” Geralt tried some on his own, then nodded in agreement. At least it wasn’t horrible. “Did I cook for you back on Kaer Morhen?” He must have. Any version of himself would have offered to try for her. “You must miss it there. But I’m glad you’re adjusting well here.” He broke up one of the loaves and then offered her another piece for the stew. “Making plenty of friends?” “Vesemir cooked mostly. He was always better with herbs than the rest of you,” she smiled down at her stew again, pushing the vegetables around in thought. She did miss it all. She missed seeing the other Witchers when she could or seeing Triss. The truth still held that had she not been brought to the hotel she would have been on the run from the Wild Hunt and had not known when she might see any of them again. So, she took the blessings where she could. New piece of bread in hand, she seeped up more of the stew with the loaf and chewed on it. “I’ve made a few. A man named Theo, who is a mage of some kind… I think he called them wizard, but he mostly wanted to talk about magic differences and learn new things. So I pointed him at Yennefer.” Maybe it had not been the best idea without pretext on who Yen was and her disposition, but if he wanted to learn he had to prove it somehow. “And then there’s Jughead,” a light blush crept across her pale skin as she shrugged. “He’s very nice and without knowing you already has a healthy fear of your retribution.” Ciri chuckled into her stew, having gotten over the initial agitation about Geralt scaring off a guy she liked. The idea of old Vesemir doing anything domestic wasn’t as strange to Geralt as one might think. He had been raised by the man, after all. Vesemir was an excellent cook. And like most things, he was better at it than Geralt. The white wolf chuckled. “If only he were here to reprimand me himself. I imagine he tried to teach you a thing or two. I hope you listened,” Geralt teased with a lifted eyebrow. The mention of Jughead (so he had remembered the name correctly) did remind Geralt of the point of this meal. He noted the flush of her cheeks. Ah, so he’d also been correct in his assumption over their friendship. He swirled his spoon in the bowl and nibbled on the bread. It did amuse him to know that the boy had a healthy dose of fear in him. “Good,” was his fatherly response. “That should help keep him nice.” Geralt waited another moment. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with this friend. Are you intending on courting?” “How do you think I learned all that Witcher potion making?” She teased back. Knowing that true Witchers would die with them was kind of a sad thought. Ciri would try her best to enhance her own skills and abilities to be as good as Geralt one day. She merely had to approach the hunt differently. Ciri narrowed her eyes. “He is nice and was the first person to interact with me beyond my roommate.” While she had felt there was something off with Abigail, she still felt like she should invite her to hang out again. The room changed had been sudden and not of her own doing. “I don’t intend on courting anyone.” She slurped some of her stew. “I’ve been nearly married too many times to count before you were even in my life and-” Ciri paused thinking how to tell Geralt. “I have had my heart broken just as many times to know better than to let my guard down.” A princess would know plenty of proposals, yes. But being forced into marriage was different than being able to choose one yourself. Personal feelings were more difficult to navigate. It didn’t surprise him even a little that Calanthe had tried to forge a marriage for her. Possibly with less success than of her daughter. “You’re a little young for marriage. Don’t rush yourself.” Geralt meant well when he said that but he knew if the same were said to him what his response would be. That would be to do the opposite of whatever anyone told him. Sometimes, Ciri reminded him too much of himself. Especially at her age. The mention of heartbreak had his hand pausing. He glanced across the table at her and really looked at her. Ciri wasn’t the same child that had run into his arms in the woods. She was grown, already with worldly experience on her shoulders. As much as he wanted to protect her from everything, doing so would prevent her from enjoying what small pleasures life could give. He softened his tone. “It’s ...difficult to ...get back up on the horse when you’ve been bucked off so many times. There’s nothing wrong with waiting to heal before trying again. But,” Geralt reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Don’t be afraid to try.” Which might have contradicted what he’d just said about marriage before but he was more concerned with Ciri’s feelings than being right or wrong. There was no way Ciri even wanted marriage. Unless the very nature of the world depended on it. Unless Geralt himself thought it was for the best that her talents were best served to the lands as a monarch and not as a Witcher, then nothing would keep her from knowing she was meant for the Witcher life and marriages were rarely a part of that. Ciri held onto Geralt’s hand a little longer. Her green eyes searching his wolf gaze. “There’s-” She paused again, looking down in thought. “I don’t mind having interests. Or people to mess around with. I just don’t think I’ll ever have what you and Jaskier seem to have or what you and Yen had back home.” She shrugged. To not tell him about the forced situations with the Rats or how the Lodge was going to try and get her to hook up with someone for pregnancy reasons probably would be for the best. She wanted none of it. It was in the past. “The reason I like Jughead is because he’s not looking at me like something to be caught and he has that look of someone who knows darkness and doesn’t shy away from it.” Ciri grinned suddenly, seeking to change the feel of the conversation. “And he’s very attractive but doesn’t seem to know it.” Only if the fate of the world hung in the balance would Geralt agree to allow Ciri do anything ...as long as it was her choice. Not anyone else’s. Geralt could see that no one, not even him, could tell Ciri what to do. It was a trait he hoped would follow her the rest of her very long life. He felt something warm grow in his chest. Jaskier had been a surprise. In more ways than one. Had anyone told him that he would have started becoming entangled with some bard from one of the many bars he’d frequented over the years, he would have rolled his eyes. And entangled was an understatement. His own cheeks went a little red at the mention. “Love can’t be forced. It’s something that just …” fuck, he didn’t even know. Geralt struggled for the words, blushing and staring into his stew. “It just happens sometimes. Sometimes with the people you least expect. Whether that’s with meathead- Jughead,” he was quick to correct himself. “That part is up to you.” He squeezed her hand once more and then brought it back to his side of the table to start dipping into his soup. Ciri could have many lovers as she wanted. ‘Course that brought up another subject. Ciri was already talking about her attraction to the boy. What came next couldn’t be avoided. Geralt cleared his throat. “But love isn’t necessary if you’re only looking to, uh, mess around. As long as you’re smart about it. Do you, um, do you know how-“ maybe this was a conversation best suited for Yennefer. “Did your grandmother speak with you about such things?” "Well, those I thought I would love never really proved to be much more than desperate for power, so I'll stick to having love only for my family- as we are- and finding companionship without it." Ciri said, to the point. She had no lofty ideas of love. Her grandmother instilled that in her. Love was not to be sought because it was a weakness. Back then, Ciri did not believe her, but the more time moved on the more Ciri realized she had been right. Perks used it against her. Continuing to eat the stew, Ciri nearly choked at Geralt trying to ask her about sex. Coughing, she drank down some water and tried not to laugh too hard at the awkward father question. "I'm not going to talk about how I know things, Geralt, but I'm very well old enough to know already." She couldn't believe he would ask. "How's your relationship going? Have you tried painting a goatee on Jaskier yet?" She quickly changed the subject, amusement still making her laugh between bites. “Don’t go chasing love. Your head will just be full of dandelion puffs.” Geralt had never made his feelings a priority. Unless it was a gut feeling. His stomach knew what his body needed more than his heart. If he let his heart lead him, he would have ended up in a ditch or in a very unhappy marriage. But he didn’t want Ciri to think that love was foolish. It was like a lost myth. A rare gem that only a precious few could find. Or happen upon, in most cases. But maybe his point of view was askew. And maybe her’s as well since he was the one who had helped to raise her. As well as her grandmother. He decided to avoid answering her on the topic of knowing about sex for obvious reasons. At least it got her smiling which was always a victory for him. Geralt smirked and went back with gusto to his stew. “I won’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to draw one while he’s sleeping. But I always fall asleep too quickly these days. I think it’s the bed. It’s too soft and cush.” And possibly the extra warm body to go with it. “And it’s going better than expected. Jaskier has really perfected the tone of chastising. I occasionally listen better than I would.” He paused then, something Jaskier had said popping to the front of his mind. “Does it bother you? He and I ...together?” "The beds remind me of the castle. It's a bit too soft after sleeping so many nights on a bedroll or in the dirt." Ciri had known enough of the comfortable life to not be entirely uncomfortable in a soft bed, yet she has no complaints while on the road. Ciri laughed, setting her spoon down and crossing her arms. "Someone always has to chastise you or you'd get yourself killed." Her brows raised. "No, why would it bother me? You've never exactly been tied down as long as I've been with you. And, honestly, I wasn't too shocked. You've been with everyone else you introduced me to beside the other Witchers." She giggled. Geralt was curious about his other self, as much as he tried to deny it. They were, essentially, one and the same. But he was cautious too. If he learned too much, would he be doomed to make the same choices? Or by trying to make different ones, would he still eventually end up the same? Did it even matter? The more he thought about it, the bigger the headache. Damn his curiosity. “If the bed is giving you a problem, sleep on the floor. I’d suggest sleeping outside but it seems the hotel prefers to keep us all together inside. I’m sure Yennefer wouldn’t be opposed to it. How is ...that arrangement working out for you?” Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it but it had been a concern on Jaskier’s mind so it felt worth bringing up. The way that Ciri put it though, Geralt felt a bit like a harlot. His cheeks flushed but he was grinning. “Jaskier is different. It’s more than just being with someone. I intend-” well. Geralt cleared his throat. “What if I were to tie myself to him? Permanently? Would you be alright with that?” He watched her face carefully. If she lied, he would know. Unless he had trained her too well in that too. “I’ve thought of it. I know Yennefer would not say anything of it, but I, honestly, don’t trust the floor in this place.” She knew it was silly and almost childish to believe in monsters under the bed. She had fought enough monsters and trained for such, but still, she knew not to trust comforts that were given without purpose. The hotel was strange enough, who knew what would come out of the walls next. Definitely not a ghost she could banish as much as she might have tried. “It’s still strange to have Yen keeping me at arm's length. I can tell she doesn’t know what to do with me.” She paused, staring into her nearly empty bowl. “I’ll manage, though.” A soft smile tugged at the scar across Ciri’s cheek, hand reaching out across the small table. “You’re a little young for marriage, don’t rush yourself,” she repeated his words back in her best impression of him. Her silvery laugh burst forward. “If that’s what you want to do, Geralt, then go ahead. Marriage is a weird subject for me, but not because it’s Jaskier. We become very good friends. It’s why I gave him Witcher potions to test out while he had your abilities. We’ve always gotten into trouble together. He’s as much family to me as you and Yennefer.” Geralt had his own suspicions about the hotel but he’d learned to not voice them. So it made him smile to hear that Ciri had the same feelings. “A good witcher is suspicious of everything,” he was quick to remind her. That gut feeling could end up saving her life one day. It had done so for him many times over. “Give Yennefer time. She’ll warm up to you. She did so once, didn’t she?” He wanted to assure her as much as possible. They were different than what Ciri knew but deep down, they were still the same people. Ah. Using his own words against him! And in a tone to match. Geralt glared mildly at her and tugged at her hand playfully. “Wise words from such a young whipper.” He hadn’t meant marriage exactly. Or maybe he had unconsciously. It was good to hear that Ciri wouldn’t mind if things were to advance in that direction. Still, Geralt let the subject get steered away again. “Trouble? Should I worry about you two now?” "Yeah, but I never needed to work so hard for it. It's easier as a cute little kid," she laughed. Ciri couldn't worry too much. It would be a continuous issue as long as they were at the hotel because she would always be from their future. She wanted to just have her family back in some kind of respect. Finishing the stew, she leaned back in her chair with a mischievous grin. "Do you really want to know?" A ghost walked by the door into the dining room pulling Ciri's attention momentarily. "Have you wondered why there are so many souls not at rest here?" Family. It wasn’t something Geralt imagined himself having. Kaer Morhen was the closest thing he knew to such a thing. But he was a young buck compared to Vesemir. Most sons tried to carry on the family legacy by having children of their own. Witchers didn’t have the luxury. To end up with a Child Surprise had been a strange twist of fate. To have someone to raise that child with was another. Two twists, technically. Yennefer and Jaskier both, in their own way, had their hands in raising Ciri. Though they had very obviously different methods. Both chaotic in their own special way. Geralt lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, so I know exactly what to scold Jaskier for later.” On one hand, it worried him exactly what sort of trouble those two could get up to. But on the other, he was curious and amused. And wanted to be involved. He could be fun! The mention of the ghosts did break his focus. He followed her gaze to the dining room entranceway. “It’s bothered me since I arrived. But they’ve mostly been harmless and haven’t give me any reason to think they’d be otherwise. Well, not enough reasons to investigate,” he made sure to add. But he looked back to Ciri, wondering what prompted the question. “Coin for your thoughts?” Ciri had laughed, a glint of mischief in her eyes, but would not say what trouble Jaskier and herself got in in her lifetime. If Geralt knew his boyfriend any, then he’d know when to scold them and when to let it go. There was always a balance they all wandered between knowing when to be serious and knowing when to have a little fun. Ciri’s life had been full of so much seriousness that there was genuine relief in her being when she had time to relax with Jaskier or Geralt or Yen or Triss. She needed it sometimes. Ciri shook her head, looking away from the doorway and at her adopted father. “Well, in our world ghosts are a result of some misdeed in which the spirit becomes corrupted in some way.” Very few seemed to not have a dangerous side to them. “With the strangeness that happens on this site, I suppose I worry that should anyone die that we might become trapped here as well.” It was the little moments in the silence of the dark places in her mind that she thought about these things. Training as a Witcher lent to seeing troubles or things out of place. She knew things were not like their world here, but her heart went out to souls trapped in such a manner. Geralt had a feeling that he would find out exactly what that laugh meant. And probably soon. Jaskier could be a handful. So could Ciri. The both of them together and Geralt felt that it might be in his best interest to just let them do what they like. It was easier to ride the river than to try and stop it. And the two of them getting along was good. It made that rock of a heart in his chest feel something again. “It’s good to hear you remember your training. I might have to start testing your knowledge to keep you sharp. Just because we’re stuck in this place, that’s no excuse to allow ourselves to become lazy.” Geralt knew that was hypocritical of him to say given how lenient he’d become in these last several months. But he was saying it for a good reason. Ciri had a point about the ghosts. He grinned and finished his bowl, licking his fingers as he soaked up the rest with the bread. “Suppose we do a little investigating. I haven’t had much luck but with two sets of witcher eyes, maybe we can find out something new. What do you think of that?” Excitement lit Ciri's face at the offer. "That sounds perfect!" Standing up, she took both of their bowls, stacked then and started toward the kitchen. The quicker they cleaned up the diner they could look into things. "Actually doing Witcher work will be the perfect birthday gift, if we manage to get any information at all," she laughed, passing into the kitchen with a kick of her foot to the door. “Birthday?” Before Geralt could check to see if there was anything else left in his bowl to eat, Ciri was already taking everything away and heading towards the kitchen. The witcher laughed and picked up anything left behind, then quickly followed behind her. Someone was eager to start a hunt. “When is your birthday, Ciri?” He felt bad that he didn’t know. But those sorts of things hadn’t exactly been something witchers tended to celebrate. For his own, he had no idea the day he was actually born. He only knew the year and the season and sometimes, even that he questioned. Vesemir hadn’t told him much and since he barely remembered his mother, that knowledge was lost. But he was glad that Ciri at least knew her’s. “A hunt is a horrible gift but if that’s what you want, then let’s go get it for you.” |