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There was a girl, running in the forest. At least, she believed she was in the forest. The dark hood that covered her head narrowed her sight to only the dirt and rocks below her feet. There was no time to stop and take in the scenery- she had to run.
Her cloak caught on a branch that was reaching out for her. Ciri gasped, tripping as her cloak tried to drag her back. She couldn’t risk tearing it, not her cloak, but if she was still being followed- It took a few tugs, but the red cloth finally became untethered once again. She braved a single glance behind her.
She had taken care to not follow a worn path, that was what her Grandmother had told her to do, but seeing nothing but trees in the darkness behind her made her skin chill over.
Her hood once again securely over her, she plunged back, moving at a slower speed, but one that still made the cold air feel like it was cutting at her cheeks,
The red cloak may be all that she has of her family, now. All that she has of Cintra. The cloak had been worn by her grandmother, and then her mother before it was passed down to her. It was made of strength, and bravery, her grandmother had told her. It was a cloak for survival, and perseverance.
The hem of it was getting dragged along in the mud. Ciri wondered if her grandmother would be proud, watching Ciri run from danger, instead of towards it. Grandmother was allowed to die fighting, why couldn’t Ciri?
“Because your time is not now, my lion cub.” Grandmother had said fiercely.
Now Grandmother was gone. So was Mousesack, so were the guards, so were the servant children that Ciri had grown up with- Ciri had to fight back a sob.
It was when she was trying to rub the tears out of her eyes that she stumbled. The cloak once again was caught on something, and this time she tumbled to the ground. Her knees hit the cold, unforgiving forest ground, and the choked back sob turned into something more like a whine.
Without looking at her hands, she knew there were scratches on her palms. Now, not only was she an orphan, alone in this world and being hunted, but she was bleeding, and cold.
She tugged the sides of the cloak around her, trying to burrow deeper into it’s warmth. The forest around her howled as the wind tore through the trees. Branches broke in the distance- was it just an animal, or was it who was pursuing her?
Ciri did not know the face of the man who murdered her family, and burned her home, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw his horse, rearing up with it’s rider dressed in black.
When she opened her eyes, the world around her was nearly as dark. A dense fog had set in, and the thickness in the air suggested rain.
She had to find shelter, but where? How?
Ciri couldn’t help the gasp that was ripped from her chest as there was a large snapping noise from behind her.
Her cloak could protect her from many things, but Ciri didn’t think it could stop a lance from striking her in the heart.
She knew it was night, but in the deep forest, all of the shadows looked the same.
There were footsteps, coming closer to her. They were soft, softer than the crunch of leaves that a human would make, but Ciri knew that at this point, an animal could be just as dangerous.
The breath left her lungs when out of the darkness, a white wolf appeared. It was massive, larger than any dog she had ever seen before, and it's sharp fangs gleamed. It had bright, yellow eyes.
It was snarling, a low hum of noise, warning her off.
What to do when faced with a wolf? Look away, play dead? Or was she to make herself large, and try to scare it away?
Before Ciri could debate the merits, there was a familiar sound coming through the trees. It was the pounding of horses, their hooves beating against the forest floor. Ciri scrambled to her feet, and ran to hide behind a tree. The wolf growled and snapped at her, but didn’t move as she rushed past it. It’s focus shifted towards the men who burst into the clearing, a mere moments after Ciri ducked behind the tree. She tugged her cloak in tighter- if they saw a glimpse of red poking out from behind a tree, she was as good as dead.
“It’s nothing but a wolf.” One of the men reported, after bringing his horse to a halt. “Should I slay it?”
There was a beat, and the growling from the wolf grew in volume and intensity.
“No. We shall keep looking for the girl. No point in hauling around a wolf’s carcass around for the rest of the night,” a different voice said.
“Your stellar tracking skills led us directly to a wolf,” the first voice said dryly, but no more was said as the horses were redirected. The noise of the horses trotting eventually grew fainter and fainter, until it was gone.
Ciri didn’t realize she had closed her eyes until there was a wet feeling against her arm. Ciri barely repressed a shriek, falling backwards onto her bottom. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the wolf, who was only a few inches away from her. He was sniffing her.
The ice in her veins slowly began to thaw. She was okay. As long as the wolf didn’t eat her, she would be okay.
She stayed as still as she could as the wolf grunted, pushing it’s muzzle into her space. It rubbed it’s muzzle against her cheek, as if trying to reassure her. Ciri let out a watery laugh, and reached back to hug the wolf. She wrapped her arms around it’s neck, taking a small moment of comfort, knowing that she would have to keep moving soon.
Ciri kept her face buried in the fur of the wolf. It let her. It didn’t even pull away when tears leaked out of her eyes.
It did, however, pull away a few moments after, looking in a different direction. Ciri sniffed, wiping at her eyes. The wolf sniffed a few times, before Ciri heard footsteps in the distance. Ice quickly froze her blood once again, and the one fist that was still clutching at the wolf’s fur tightened. The wolf turned back to her, and made a low chuffing noise, but did not move into a defensive stance like he had previously.
Ciri scanned the forest around them. If she ran right now, she might be able to get far enough away that-
A branch snapped. It was a person, only one of them it sounded like. With the wolf on her side, she might be able to take them down-
The wolf wasn't growling. Why wasn't it growling?
Ciri gathered her cloak in her arms and crouched, ready to break out into a sprint at a moment's notice.
"Seriously, Geralt, you can't keep running away in the middle of conversations! It's unbecoming, I'll have you know," a voice broke through, before a man stepped through the trees. The wolf barked at the man, before turning around and going back to Ciri.
Ciri tried to push herself into a sprint, but the leaves under her feet slid in the mud.
"Oh," the man said, pausing. He had been following the wolf across the clearing, but now was standing in front of Ciri.
"Please don't hurt me," Ciri said softly. How disappointed would her grandmother be, if she saw Ciri begging for her life? She had to bite her lip to stop another sob from leaving her lips.
"Oh, no, little one," the man said. Ciri shook her head as he came closer, before he crouched beside the wolf. The wolf chuffed at him, before going back to sticking his muzzle near Ciri's face. "I'm not going to hurt you. I was just looking for my friend here, but it's a good thing that he found you first. Are you hurt?"
Ciri silently shook her head, but was cut off by the wolf barking. She had never been this close to a wolf before, but it really was just like a large dog.
She looked up at the man. He was handsome, and vaguely familiar, as if he was someone that she had seen in her dreams. He was wearing a simple poet's shirt, and slim pants, and he looked nothing like someone who would be following a wolf around a forest.
The wolf- had the man called him Geralt?- lifted a paw and placed it over Ciri's hands.
"May I?" The man asked. Ciri nodded mutely before revealing her bloodied palms to him.
"Oh," the man said sadly. "Here. I have some bandages in my pouch here, we can get you cleaned up. Are you lost? Where is your home?"
Ciri promptly burst into tears.
If she wasn't currently crying, it would have been comical, the nearly twin looks of panic that both the man and the wolf gave her.
"Please don't cry," the man pleaded. "I'm sorry. Here, let me clean off your hands- would you like some water?" Ciri shook her head frantically when offered the flask. Being poisoned by a stranger in the forest was an even more shameful way to die. The man didn't push it, and instead poured the clear liquid over her hands, washing away the dirt and splinters from her fall earlier.
"My name is Jaskier," the man said. "My furry friend here is Geralt. He may seem scary, but he's just a big softie."
Geralt chuffed at him, but rested his head in Ciri's lap, keeping her warm.
"Ci- Fiona," Ciri hastily corrected herself at the last moment. The look that Jaskier gave her indicated that he knew she was lying, but he didn't press it.
"Alright, Fiona. Do you have any other injuries? I don't have any salve with me, but I do back at my cottage. It's just a little walk back from where I came. Would you feel comfortable coming with me?"
Ciri stared into Jaskier's eyes, trying to understand his motive. Why would he help her? This could be a ploy, and he could be working with those who sought to hurt her, but why wouldn't he have just struck her down right here, with her hands in his?
"There's people. After me. I don't know how many." Ciri finally said softly. Jaskier didn't let go of her hands, continuing to wrap small cloth bandages around her palms.
"Okay." Jaskier finally said, once he was done. He still didn't let go of Ciri's hands, and she found comfort in the touch. "Thank you for telling me. The cottage isn't that far away, and it's hidden behind some wards. No one will find it unless we want them to. You will be safe there, if you want to come. Or, we can try to help you get home."
Ciri hiccuped wetly, shaking her head.
"My home is gone now." Jaskier was quiet for a moment, and when she met his eyes, his expression was somber, and serious.
"Oh, sweetheart." Eventually Jaskier said, and the softness in his voice was enough to make Ciri about to cry again. "Can I give you a hug?"
Geralt huffed as Ciri gently nudged him out of her lap, so she could let the man wrap her up in his arms. Grandmother wasn't really one for hugging, and the smell of the dank forest floor left no room for mistaking where she was, but Ciri squeezed her eyes shut, and let the embrace soothe her.
Jaskier was rubbing her back, whispering soft words of comfort, and promises of safety to her.
Ciri let herself try to believe in them.
Geralt chuffed again. Jaskier slowly pulled away from the embrace, but gently took her hand into his, careful to not press against her scrapes.
"Here. Follow me. We can get you some clean clothes to wear, and some food, alright?"
Ciri let Jaskier help her to her feet. Geralt followed them, taking a brief moment to shake, puffing his fur back up.
"Good thing you have that cloak," Jaskier said, as they started to walk back through the forest. "It keeps you warm, I'm sure."
"It does." Ciri replied softly. "It was my mother's."
"Even better." Jaskier said. He used his other hand to pull the hood back over her head- she hadn't realized that it had fallen off again. "Things like that, passing down items through the family give it a sort of magic."
"That's what my grandmother said!" Ciri said, surprised. She had thought it was dumb at first, the idea that the cloak could have powers, that it could really grant her safety, but Jaskier was nodding.
"Love is a powerful thing. Sometimes it is more powerful than chaos." Jaskier was cut off by Geralt barking at him, before wiggling his body between Ciri and Jaskier. "Alright, fine, fine, I'll stop." Jaskier grumbled.
"Geralt's not a regular wolf, is he?" Ciri asked, a bit nervously. Geralt headbutted her leg gently.
"No, not at all. A snarky one, he is." Jaskier said, sighing dramatically. "Well, regardless, we are only a few minutes away."
The cottage appeared almost suddenly. They were walking towards just more woods, and then Ciri blinked, and then they were on a small cobbled path, leading to a cheery cottage with a garden, and ivy growing up the walls.
Geralt loped off, going around the other side of the house.
"We are safe here. The area is silenced as well, so we can be as loud as we want, without fear of anyone hearing us." Jaskier told her. Ciri nodded, still trying to take in the sudden appearance. "Come along, I'm sure you are tired."
"Wait," Ciri blurted, tugging Jaskier's hand back before they could enter the cottage. "I need to tell you something."
Jaskier stopped, and gave her his full attention.
"My name isn't Fiona."
"I know."
Fear lit up through Ciri's blood, but when she yanked her hand from Jaskier's grasp, he let her.
"You are Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon. I know this only because once upon a time, I visited your court. I was a bit of a travelling bard, before the war. Still am, I suppose. But one could never forget your eyes, little Cirilla. You look just like your mother."
Jaskier didn't miss a beat when Ciri barreled into his chest, wrapping around him in another hug.
“I don’t know who is chasing you, Cirilla, but know that we will protect you.” Jaskier whispered into her ear.
The front door to the cottage swung open. Ciri watched as an elegant woman strode out, dressed in a long back robe. The world shimmered around her, chaos enveloping the world around her. Her grandmother had always taught her to notice the chaos that existed around other people, but this woman was more powerful than anyone that Ciri had ever seen.
“Who’s this?”
Before Jaskier could pull away and answer, a broad shouldered man with white hair turned the corner of the cottage, the same place that Geralt had disappeared to.
“Cirilla Riannon.” Ciri flinched, but Jaskier did not let her go. “Men in the woods are looking for her.”
“Lost?” The woman asked.
“Hunted.”
“Don’t be so crass.” Jaskier scolded, but he pulled away. “Yennefer, this is Ciri. Geralt found her. She’s being chased, so I thought we could offer her some sanctuary.”
Ciri shivered as the woman’s eyes took her in. From one blink to the next, the woman was standing there, and then she was not. There was a black cat, where she was standing. Sleek fur shone in the light as it walked towards her and Jaskier.
“Yen,” Jaskier sighed. “Give the girl a chance to breathe, alright?”
Ciri’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“You are a shifter,” she said softly. The cat chirped as it pranced across the grass to reach them. “A shifter!”
Shifting was rare, but it was common knowledge that if you were one, you were to keep that secret with your life. Shifting magic was something unrelated to chaos, but just as hard to control, and just as hard to understand.
Ciri had faint memories of lightly colored fur, and dens filled with love.
The man with white hair was still standing at the corner of the cottage, watching them. There was something familiar about him, but Ciri couldn’t figure out what.
“Ciri, meet Yennefer.” Jaskier said as the cat reached them. “Yen, this is Ciri.” The cat meowed, and started to rub at Jaskier’s legs.
“A shifter,” Ciri said once again. She kneeled down, and gently held out a hand. Yennefer’s eyes glinted, but she pressed her head against Ciri’s fist. “Wow.”
“Geralt, stop brooding and come over here.” Jaskier instructed next, waving over the man with white hair. Ciri stilled, the pieces clicking together. The eyes- this man was the wolf from the forest.
"You're... You are-" Ciri started. His yellow eyes flashed. The same eyes as the wolves. "You are a shifter also. A wolf shifter.”
"Yes." His voice was low, and gravely. He started to walk towards the three of them, at the edge of the clearing. If he was a shifter, as was the mage, did that make-
Jaskier's hands were raised in surrender before she could even turn to him.
"I'm the token human, unfortunately. Nothing too interesting about me." Geralt punched him in the arm. "Hey!"
"You are safe here, should you choose to stay." Geralt said, kneeling down so he could look Ciri in the eyes. "Here we protect each other."
"But- it is your decision." Jaskier cut in, looking at Geralt out of the side of his eye. "If you have somewhere else to go, I can escort you there."
"I don't." Ciri admitted nervously. "You mean it? I could stay here?"
Jaskier's face softened, and he knelt down beside Geralt.
"Of course you can, little one." Jaskier reached out, and brushed a hand over her hair. "This is a safe place, and here, we are a family." Jaskier smirked. "A wolf pack, if you will."
Geralt punched him in the arm again.
"A wolf pack with only one wolf, one cat, and one human." Jaskier continued. “Two humans, if you would like.”
No longer did the forest around them feel dark, and scary, with danger behind every corner.
The sun was starting to rise. The trees were not locking them in, but instead were walls, fences to keep them safe from danger.
"I'll stay," Ciri said softly. Jaskier smiled at her.
"Good. Now head into the cottage, and we will get dinner going, alright?" Jaskier said.
Yennefer, who was still circling Jaskier's feet, purred. She was curling around his ankles until he scooped her up. Yennefer climbed up until she was curled atop of his shoulders.
“Let’s go.” Jaskier urged. Geralt put a light hand on Ciri’s shoulder.
Together, they walked to the cottage.