Chapter Text
He was roused from sleep by the sound of small footsteps making their way up to his solar. Geralt let out a soft groan cracking his eye open. Likely Ciri coming to badger him into anything else other than studying. She had become quite crafty in her excuses as to why she shouldn’t have to sit and read for the day but was still alright to swing a sword.
He huffed and nuzzled further into his pillows hoping to protect his head from an incoming Ciri attack. Oddly, when the doors to his room opened he didn’t hear her rush across the room so that she could leap into the bed as normal. Instead, she just stood in the doorway.
“Geralt?” she said uncharacteristically soft. Gods, was she that good at acting now?
He groaned into his pillows not yet worried enough to leave the confines of his blankets.
“I can’t train today.”
That’s new. He unburied himself enough for his sleep laden voice to be heard. “What?”
Sleep still fogged his mind, preventing him from making any clear reasoning as to what her excuse today would be.
“I’m bleeding.”
He sighed; if she thought a cut was going to get her out of reading or drills today.
“How’d you manage that?” he brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing them and yawning.
“I don’t know! I was sleeping!”
Geralt suddenly shot upright at the sound of panic in Ciri’s voice. His gaze shot over to her and immediately a hot rush went through him.
She stood there, hair a mess and a slightly worried expression on her face. She wore her bedclothes, but instead of their normal linen color. A bloodstain at the front of it, right where her legs met.
His head went blank. He must have failed at hiding his shock as her face suddenly morphed into that of panic.
“Why do you look like that?!” she sounded as if she was going to cry “Geralt am I dying?!”
“What?” his focus returned to her panicked expression, confusion taking over “No?”
Ciri gripped the front of her bedclothes tears in her eyes.
He lept from bed rushing to fix his mistake. “Ciri. No.” he tried to sound surer “No. No. No. No. No.” walking to her only wearing his own bedclothes.
He stood in front of her trying to hide his own panic. He had no idea what to do or say in this situation. He didn’t know how this worked and there were no women near Kaer Morhen who could explain this to her either. Vesemir. Vesemir would know.
Geralt grasped Ciri’s hand, realizing a moment too late that it was also bloody. Schooling his expression he said “Let’s go find Vesemir.” he tried to give a reassuring smile, something he never did and it only made her panic increase tenfold.
“Geralt! Why do you look so worried?!” Ciri was becoming louder and more upset every step they took. She never cried, not even when injured, and now she was near tears.
“Vesemir!” he bellowed. He had no idea what to do and he was only upsetting Ciri further. Gods he was horrible at this why didn’t he think to- “Vesemir!”
“Geralt what’s going on?!” Ciri was shrill with panic, and it took every fiber of his being not to lift Ciri and run to get someone to explain this.
“This is fine! It’s all natural! You’re fine!”
“Natural?!” she shrieked.
Both of their panics were feeding into one another's making everything worse. Geralt burst into the dilapidated main hall and bellowed again. “Vesemir!”
He saw the old witcher rush around a random pile of junk. “Geralt, what’s go-” the words died in his throat as laid eyes on the two of them. Both wild with panic and embarrassment.
“Oh. I see.” he said resolutely, uneasiness in the lines of his face. The pair saw the ambivalence in his face immediately, causing Ciri to finally cry out.
“I’m dying aren’t I?! I’m dying!”
Geralt glared at his master and growled out “Vesemir help me please!”
Vesemir walked forward trying to be comforting to Ciri while also arguing with his oldest pupil “I don’t know what you expect me to do Wolf. I’ve raised boys for the past century. I don’t know what to say here.” Ciri’s crying grew in volume.
“I don’t either!” he snapped back.
Ciri’s wailing attracted the other witchers in the keep. Eskel stood by with a similarly uneasy face.
“What’s going on?” the scarred face witcher said. Before anyone could answer Ciri wailed. “I’m dying!” she sniffled “I’m dying and no one will tell me why!”
“You’re not dying Ciri.” Geralt said gripping her hand tighter. “It’s fine. I told you-”
“You’re lying!” She howled as Lambert approached, assessing the scene. He would have been amused by the whole thing if it weren’t for Ciri’s legitimate distress.
Out of nowhere and with perfect ease he said “Oh, your moon blood. Congratulations.”
Ciri’s cries stopped immediately at the youngest witcher's calm demeanor.
“W-what?” she said between sniffles.
“You got your moon blood. You’re a woman now. Congratulations.”
The pandemonium that had filled the keep moments ago was brought to a screeching halt. Everyone stared at Lambert and he merely shrugged. Walking towards her.
“You bleed on your sheets too?” he said matter of factly.
Ciri nodded dumbly and Geralt’s gaze bounced between the two of them, still gripping her bloodied hand.
“Alright, well go up and strip your bed. Then bring a change of clothes, we’ll go wash ‘em out.”
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, softly removing her from Geralt’s protective grip.
“You remember how to get blood out of cloth?”
Ciri sniffled slightly, the only sign that she had been crying were her red eyes.
“Yeah,” she said sounding surer. “cold water and goats milk.”
Lambert nodded a far more comforting and easy smile on his face.
“Well go on, you get the sheets and meet me out front. I’ll get the rest.”
She nodded, then looked at the other witchers, still a little nervous and shaken. They all had lost expressions so she focused back on Lambert’s sure one and ran off to her room.
Eskel looked at the youngest witcher incredulously “How did you-”
“I grew up with three sisters.” Lambert said sharply and Geralt was struck with the realization that they had never asked about Lambert’s life before Kaer Morhen.
Vesemir looked at him seriously, “Well, we thank you Wolf. I’m not sure that could have gone much worse.”
Lambert laughed loudly, shaking off the focused praise. “I’ve never seen three grown witchers shit themselves so badly!” a teasing smirk returned to his face. “And Geralt. With all the women you sleep around with you never bothered to learn about a woman’s moon blood?”
He prickled at the association between the women in his life and his surrogate daughter. “I know about it. I just don’t know how to talk to Ciri about her first time having one.” he growled.
Lambert’s face twisted in irritation “Alright, alright.” he threw up his hands “no need to go all Papa Wolf on me.”
Geralt softened instantly “Lambert, I-”
“I’m gonna take Ciri down to the lake and we’re gonna wash everything.” He paused and thought for a moment, looking back to Geralt “You ever have a girl leave one of her pairs of panties here?”
Geralt fought not to become angry again. “I’m not letting Ciri wear- ”
“No, not those genius!” Lambert said exasperated “The ugly cotton ones that they tie around themselves.”
Geralt was reeling and tried to think if anything like that could possibly be in the back of one of his drawers “No, I don’t think- ”
“ I got a few.” Eskel said, drawing shocked expressions “Deidre left a good amount of her things here.”
Lambert nodded “Glad someone knows what’s going on.” a wide grin was directed the white-haired witcher’s way.
Geralt tried not to be embarrassed by his lack of knowledge on this important time for Ciri. Feeling rather helpless all over again, even with the help that he asked for.
“Mind grabbing them?” Lambert said. Eskel nodded. As he walked past Geralt he gave him a few reassuring pats on his back. Somehow that only made him feel worse. He was sincerely thankful for Lambert’s help and his taking control of the situation, but the bastard was making it hard with his smug ass expression.
“Hey, Vesemir.” Their master’s piercing gaze switched from Geralt to Lambert. “Know if we got any bloodmoss or cotton lying around in the stores?” Vesemir nodded an inkling of pride on his face.
“Great, I’ll go grab-”
“No, no.” Vesemir interrupted. “I’ll go grab those and a bar of goats milk. Need to be able to do something here.”
He turned to gather things from the stores and Geralt simply looked at his bloodied hand.
Something unknown formed in his gut. Ciri had come to him for help, and he not only wasn’t able to do anything, but he made it worse. His gaze moved over to Lambert who was doing everything in his power not to look Geralt’s way.
He felt guilty and useless, sure he could protect her and train her, but what did he know of Ciri’s upcoming change? Future feelings and hurts that couldn’t be solved with the swing of a sword? She was becoming a woman and Geralt was wholly lost.
“Lambert-”
“Don’t.” The young witchers gaze shifted over. “ I know she’s your surprise child and all, but we can take care of her too.”
There was a lump at the back of Geralt’s throat and a stone in his chest as he spoke.
“We-” Lambert took a steadying breath and rocked from foot to foot. “We love her as much as you do alright? And sometimes other people may know better than you.”
He was frustrated and angry but Lambert was right. Much in the way that Yennefer was. Ciri needs more than one person to look out for her. He can’t be the only one and he can’t know everything she’ll need.
Geralt sighed and stood in front of Lambert to look him in the eye. The discomfort Lambert had at confessing his own feelings grew as he watched Geralt. “Don’t do that. I hate that look, you-”
“Thank you.” he said soundly a hand landing on his shoulder and giving him a solid shake.
Lambert’s face pinched in feigned discomfort while another expression ran through his features, softening him for a moment. “Yeah, happy to help.”
They both heard Ciri rushing down the steps at the same time they heard Eskel and Vesemir returning.
Lambert broke away, quickly refocusing on the task at hand. “I’m going to give her the whole talk on the way down. You cool with that?”
“You know the whole talk?” Geralt said amused.
“The bits I remember from my mom talking to my sisters. Merigold and Yennefer can fill her in on the rest when she sees them next.”
Geralt nodded and looked as Ciri approached them with a bundle of linens and a change of clothes stacked on top.
“Ready?” Geralt said.
Ciri looked at him a little worried. “Are you going with me?”
Geralt fought the hurt in his chest about Ciri no longer wanting him involved. Though he felt resolved by the fact that she had Lambert to talk to about it now.
“No, Lambert’s clearly better at this anyway.” Geralt caught Ciri’s relieved expression right as he saw a hint of pride on Lambert’s face. Eskel and Vesemir handed him their supplies.
“Oh! Ok!” She still ran up and hugged him, dirty linens and all pressed against his bare chest and sleep pants.
“Alright then woman! Time to go wash your mess out!” Geralt made a face at Lambert calling Ciri ‘woman’ but she was clearly overjoyed by the new moniker. Bounding away from him to chase Lambert out of the keep.
As Geralt watched them leave he felt Vesemir’s hand on his shoulder. “Looks like our little witcher is growing up.”
He hummed, watching them open the hall doors, Ciri already asking dozens of invasive questions and Lambert answering them easily.
Eskel snorted, walking away. “We react this bad to her moon blood. Imagine what will happen when she introduces us to someone special for the first time.”
Geralt froze at the thought. “Fuck.”