Chapter Text
The worst part of rebuilding a kingdom is trying to find the parts of it that were still alive but hadn’t pledged loyalty to Nilfgaard in an egregious manner. Or at least did it in a way that wasn’t insulting to Cirilla’s new court. Jaskier sent out invitations to the major powers still in Cintra and they would all be arriving at the palace within a week.
The Duchess of Attre managed to survive, though her son had not. He pledged loyalty to Nilfgaard but was killed at some point during occupation. She had a granddaughter that was coming along as well. Jaskier never had the pleasure of meeting the Duchess, but she had a shrewd reputation. The Duke of Strept was a bit of an unknown. He was young and took over from his father who had been killed during the same battle as Calanthe. The young Duke had a shiny reputation, as he led most of the rabble rousing during the Nilfgaard occupation. The Duke of Figg was an older man that Jaskier met once a few years ago. He never suffered fools but Jaskier was still rather shocked he survived. He made the bard a bit wary, if only because he had to be slippery to get out of a Nilfgaard noose. His son was accompanying him as well. The last person coming was the Duke of Hochebuz, who Ciri remembered being an idiot. Which was probably how he survived Nilfgaard.
They made a remarkable amount of progress restoring the palace with the time and resources they had, but they couldn’t produce a miracle. Parts of the palace were still in ruin. Vesemir and Guxart stuck around for a bit to help the clean up, but they had another crumbling castle to restore. They left with funds from Ciri and a promise to return eventually. Letho was a surprising addition to their witcher circle, though Geralt wasn’t a big fan. There was no doubt that the viper doted on Ciri. And he was healthy enough to protect her. And, in Jaskier’s opinion, willing to do whatever it took to protect the young queen.
Geralt was still recovering from his wounds. It was slow moving and infuriating for the witcher. Eskel was by his side every step of the way. He wouldn’t hear a word otherwise. Jaskier’s father and brothers had returned to Lettenhove. It had been very tearful, on Jaskier’s part anyway. Edward was still recovering from his missing leg, but would be sporting a prosthetic as soon as Tris deemed him healed enough. His father was now sporting a scar on his face as well with vision issues in his left eye. He also was upgraded from a Viscount to a Duke since King Belohun was grateful for the support. They took up residency back in the palace in the main seat of Lettenhove, which was only a stone’s throw from Keracki capitol.
“Your grace?” A newly hired servant looked a bit uneasy at Jaskier. She looked nervous more than anything.
“That’s– odd.” The address was one of a duke. Jaskier wasn’t one, “I didn’t think about titles.” The young woman wobbled her head a bit.
“There is a fay delegation here. They’re arguing about it and I thought you should know.” Jaskier was instantly on his feet.
“Thank you–?”
“Chera.” She answered with a bobbled curtsy.
“Thank you Chera.” Jaskier abandoned his work and moved through the palace quickly. The halls were now spotless, thanks to a respectable amount of the servant staff positions filled. The head butler died during the siege, but his son, Hazlam, had not. He fought in the battle and was now running the staff. A man in his early fifties, he kept an even keel in all drama that Jaskier had seen so far. And there had been a lot of drama. But his instincts were spot on.
“Your royal highness, I am not saying you can’t stay here. I am humbly requesting that you adjourn to a more comfortable room until you can be properly welcomed.” Hazlam said, his tone not giving away anything. Jaskier could hear him down the echoing hall. The tapestries that used to hang on the wall dampened the noise a bit, but they many had been looted or destroyed.
“I will not be shoved around by a small human” Gelura’s voice was exasperated and tired.
“Hazlam, we show intruders to the door.” Jaskier said as he walked into the room, a small smile on his face as he looked at Gelura. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Your royal highness.” Jaskier bowed as fitting to the heir apparent.
“Shove off, Jaskier.” Gelura rolled her eyes. The fay princess was wearing her braided white hair piled on top of her head. Her travel clothes were fresh, most likely arriving in the port that same morning.
“You have delighted us with your presence, my dear. But we were not expecting such a prestigious guest.”
“My father sent me. He seemed to think I needed exposure to the human world.” She crossed her arms, making it clear what she thought of her father's opinion.
“So you will be here for a bit?” Jaskier asked.
“I came to offer myself to be one of Ciri’s ladies in waiting. I brought a few members of my own household with me.” She said casually, like the weight of what she was offering had not occurred to her. Jaskier knew it was calculated.
“You honor Cirilla and her court.” Jaskier didn’t expect it, but it made sense. With Nix having more connections with the human realm, he would need someone to serve as an ambassador. Plus it would make sure that all the promises of the treaty were delivered, “Hazlam will show you to your temporary rooms. Once I discuss this with her majesty, I will come to see you.”
“Of course.” Gelura nodded, “We have traveled far, I hope it will not take too long as we will retire.”
“Certainly. Hazlam will show you to your rooms and will send food along.” Hazlam inclined his head.
Jaskier refrained from running until he was out of sight, and then took off to get Ciri. She wasn’t difficult to find, on the practice fields with other soldiers and a few witchers. Yen was watching.
“Out of shape, bard?” Yen asked when Jaskier slid to a stop by the witch. He was heaving a bit.
“Shut up.” Jaskier said without venom.
“What is wrong?” Ciri asked, looking concerned.
“Nothing.” Jaskier replied, winded and a hand raised. He took a few breaths, “A delegation from the fay has arrived, your majesty.” He tipped his head and Ciri scrunched her nose up at the title, “The Crown Princess Gelura has offered to be your lady in waiting.” Yen tilted her head, a contemplative look on her face.
“I need to talk to her.” The witch declared.
“You’re not rummaging through her mind.” Jaskier said forcefully. That would ruin any chance of a stronger alliance that Ciri desperately needed.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Yen’s smile was all teeth.
“The fay princess is dangerous?” Letho asked.
“Yes.” Jaskier answered easily, since it was true, “Like Ciri. She has also been battle trained for quite a while.”
“Ciri needs dangerous allies.” Letho said with a look to the witch, “One that has a courtly reason to be close and less obvious.”
“Let me meet her first.” Ciri said, putting away her sword.
Gelura and her entourage were eating when they entered the room. Hazlam brought the food quickly in order to smooth her quick temper. Gelura stood, tipping her head as was appropriate to greet a Queen, but not her Queen.
“I expected you to be taller.” Gelura said when she stood straight, looking at Ciri.
“Jaskier makes me seem that way from his stories.” Ciri answered diplomatically.
“So you turned down a position in my father’s court to marry this Queen?” Gelura asked Jaskier. The bard sputtered so hard he almost fell back. Ciri’s face looked like a child who just ate something nasty and Jaskier’s wasn’t much different.
“Yuck.” Ciri said, looking thoroughly disgusted.
“It would be incest .” Jaskier made a face.
“He is old .”
“Hey!”
“Jaskier is my father’s lover.” Ciri said. It still warmed Jaskier’s heart to hear her call Geralt her father. Gelura tilted her head.
“I still find you odd.” Gelura told Jaskier, which made Yen snort and hide it with a cough, but the bard knew her too well to get away with it.
“Why are you here?” Yennefer asked Gelura, thankfully changing the topic.
“To serve the new Cintran Queen to secure her reign and to make sure she honors her promises.” It was spoken clearly. Fay could not lie.
“And your entourage?” Jaskier asked.
“Tansy, Autumn and Shade.” Gelura pointed out each of them, and they each curtsied when their name was spoken. Tansy looked how most humans imagined fay. There was an ethereal energy about her, almost like she had wings to flit around. Autumn’s head ducked, like she was trying to hide in plain sight. Her hair was the color of the leaves she was named after.
“Autumn is of your court?” Jaskier asked Gelura.
“My mother married a northern Fay.” Autumn volunteered, her honey brown eyes widened in surprise at her own answer.
“And you serve Gelura and Nix, not the autumn court?” Yen asked the clarifying question.
“I swore myself to Gelura a long time ago, the autumn court holds no power over me and I do not serve it.” She told the witch. Crystal clear. Jaskier hoped anyway.
“Shade is a warrior and one of my father’s generals.” Gelura said, “All of us are battle trained.” Shade looked exceedingly comfortable in her own skin, someone who was fully aware of what they were capable of doing. Her head was shorn, which made her facial expressions that much more poignant.
“Welcome to Cintra.” Ciri said, “All of you are welcome and encouraged to train with us, it is on the practice fields at dawn everyday except Saturday. A witcher runs the drills. All meals are served in the main hall, the only one with a specific start time is dinner. Otherwise you are free to move about within reason. The city has started to see more merchants, shops and entertainment, but I would not suggest going unarmed.” Shade looked appalled that going unarmed was even an option, “The palace is still being restored, so be careful.” Ciri looked to Jaskier for guidance.
“We will let you rest for the evening. If you need a bath, please ring one of the servants and they will have one made up. Unfortunately, the bath house is still being restored. It is a high priority, so we expect it to be at least running enough in the next few weeks.”
“That is unfortunate.” Shade said.
“The pipes that heat the water collapsed in several areas, so unfortunately only cold baths.”
“We can help with that.” Gelura said with a smile.
The fay were invaluable help as they got ready for the Cintran court to return properly. Without Gelura and her team, they would have had to host without a properly running bath house and a few missing walls. Nix and his fay had done what they could for a few days before he had to return to the mountain, but there was still so much to do.
It was just an added bonus that Ciri got along well with the fay. Jaskier would walk down the hall and hear Ciri’s laugh. It was a sound he didn’t realize he missed.
Geralt limped up to him on the battlements with Eskel not a step away, looking down on Ciri sparring with Shade with Tansy by her side. Tansy did a fun little back flip, easily throwing herself through the air as if it were nothing.
“You are not a male witcher. Stop fighting like one!” Shade corrected Ciri’s form again. Geralt scowled as he looked on.
“You will be back out there soon enough.” Jaskier said, but his witcher just grunted, “She needs female friends, Geralt. There are things that they can teach her that we just cannot.”
“Hm.”
Jaskier snorted, nudging the witcher, “She can learn from others, Geralt. You don’t have to be jealous.” Ciri attempted the same backflip as Tansy. It didn’t look nearly as dainty, but it got the job done. Jaskier clapped and Ciri smiled, turning to Geralt.
“Well done.” Geralt said, though Jaskier was sure it pained him to do it. Ciri looked brighter. There was a bit of commotion, so Jaskier turned to the other fight going on. Aiden was circling Lambert while other witchers watched. There were a few who stayed after the battle, though Jaskier wasn’t sure how long they would want to. The Path would call them all, eventually. But he hoped this would be a place they could all come and rest if they needed.
“Even match up.” Eskel said softly, looking at Lambert and Aiden. Aiden might be more agile, but Lambert was stronger. And they both spent too much time around each other, anticipating what the other was thinking.
“Show ‘em up!” Dragonfly cheered on Aiden.
“Money on Lambert.” Geralt said.
“Not taking that bet.” Eskel said with a snort.
“Don’t think Aiden could win?” Geralt goaded.
“I do, but if Lambert heard I bet against him– my days will be numbered.” Eskel retorted, making Jaskier laugh. Aiden did a flip, trying to distract the wolf. Lambert plowed forward, knocking him back finally and putting a blade to his throat. Lambert smirked before hopping off of him, holding out his hand to pull Aiden up.
“You’re nearly there.” Lambert told Aiden, looking at his eye patch for a moment.
“Take advantage while you can, because then I won’t lose again.” Aiden teased and Lambert snorted.
“Shade, would you like to spar?” Eskel asked. The fay had been watching Lambert and Aiden with an intense curiosity. She was holding an ice spear in a matter of moments as her answer.
The air got a bit chilly as they circled one another. Eskel twisted the blade in his hands, watching Shade move. She went in first, testing his speed.
“Most people assume he is slow by his stature.” Geralt told Jaskier, smirking when the spear cracked in two. The strength of the blow was devastating for being so quick. It seared itself back together under Shade’s icy hand, her scowl a bit more determined. Her next attack was a flurry of movement. Eskel breathed easy, blocking them. His face was a careful mask.
“It doesn’t look like he is putting any effort at all.” Jaskier observed.
“Part of the mind game, the bastard.” Lambert said, breathing a bit heavier than usual as he slid next to Jaskier. Shade moved away from Eskel, the air getting colder. The ground frosted over as they circled one another, Eskel’s foot slid on the ground for a moment. The fay lunged at the advantage, but Jaskier saw a smirk in the corner of Geralt’s mouth. He nudged the witcher while he watched the two move, Eskel fending Shade off.
“We learned to fight in Kaer Morhen.” Geralt said it like that explained it. Kaer Morhen was covered in snow and ice, so they grew up fighting in the cold. Jaskier thought through quickly.
“He slipped on purpose.” Jaskier concluded and Lambert grunted in the affirmative.
“Uses it on me all the fuckin’ time.” Lambert growled.
“Because you fall for it.” Geralt said, his eyes following the fight. Shade went to pivot and her foot fumbled. And just like that, Eskel was on the offensive. Shade dipped low and threw frost up at Eskel, but it was just water when it hit him.
“The ice melted.” Jaskier said excitedly.
“The dragon of Kaer Morhen.” Lambert had a proud smile on his face as his brother ended the fight in a quick move.
“Yield.” Eskel said lightly.
“I yield.” Shade replied with a huff. Jaskier cheered immediately, followed by a few others in the crowd. Shade had a wry grin on her face as she stood up, “I haven’t been toyed with like that in a long time.”
Eskel grinned sheepishly, “It was much more difficult than I let on.” His shirt was sticking to his body, wet from the melted frost. He looked like a wet dream.
“Fuck me .” Jaskier said softly. Geralt hummed his agreement next to him.
“I trained with a few Fay while on the Northern Mountain, so I had the advantage. I don’t think you have fought a witcher before.” Eskel told her kindly.
Shade scowled, “Do not placate me witcher, I’ll win next time.”
Eskel’s grin was all teeth, “You can try.” That made Shade laugh joyfully.
“Anyone ever throw you on your ass? I'd like to see that.”
Eskel looked to Geralt, “He can when he is feeling better. The head of my school can as well.”
“Oi!” Lambert waved around, “What am I?”
“You can’t throw me on my ass, puppy.” Eskel teased.
“Puppy ?” Lambert growled, and was after Eskel. Eskel laughed as he was tackled to the ground. Ciri giggled as the two wrestled.
“Can I speak with you for a moment?” Geralt asked Jaskier, using the fight as a distraction. The bard nodded.
Things had been a bit strange since Geralt was injured. Eskel and Geralt were with each other in lock step, making Jaskier feel a bit like an outsider. He didn’t want to intrude on their time together, but he wasn’t sure of his place in it. It was clear that Geralt needed Eskel to heal. Jaskier wouldn’t deny him that for a moment. These two had been by each other’s sides for decades. The bard didn’t think it was the time to push his own insecurities. He could wait. He could be patient when it was demanded of him. Sometimes.
Jaskier walked slowly so Geralt could keep up with his limp. The two walked into the palace.
“Yen is going to finish healing me tonight.” Geralt told Jaskier.
“Why hasn’t she done that before now?” Jaskier asked with a scowl.
“She was depleted after the battle.” Geralt confessed to him.
“She hasn’t said anything, she should have said –” Jaskier growled, cutting himself off, “I know she is not used to admitting weakness but it leaves Ciri vulnerable.” Geralt looked a bit awkward. Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose and then pushed back his hair, “I am glad you will be healed.”
“Hm.” The pain of healing would be immense.
“I’m assuming because we are having this conversation before it happened that you want me there?” Geralt nodded stiffly, “Ok. Anything else? Any looming threat that I don’t know about?” He couldn’t help but snap. Geralt looked at the ground so Jaskier let out a slow breath, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep a kingdom together.” He tried to make it sound light, but it didn’t.
“I’ll be able to help tomorrow.” Geralt said.
“This will be, unfortunately, more of my expertise. Talking. Not just swinging a sword.” Jaskier looked at him with a rueful smile.
“I was thinking more than what you could move Eskel to help you with the talking bit. And I could take my usual place at sword swinging.” Geralt’s tone was dry which made Jaskier’s smile a bit less forced.
“I’ll have a planning meeting after you are healed. That way we can all discuss next steps.”
“You could have invited me before.”
“I know.” Jaskier pushed his fingers through his hair again, “But you deserve time to rest and heal. You can barely walk, Geralt.” His voice broke a bit, “I am not used to being the more athletic one between the two of us.”
Geralt took one of Jaskier’s hands, “You deserve time too.” Jaskier doesn’t know why his eyes abruptly fill with tears, but they do. He doesn’t let them fall.
“She needs a council. People she can rely on. Getting a kingdom is rather easy, but maintaining one is the hard part.” Jaskier said, “And she deserves time to enjoy the win. To be back home.”
“She is a Queen.” Geralt reminded him, “She cannot just swing a sword.” That twinkle was in his eye, which made Jaskier snort. Geralt squeezes his hand a bit tighter, “Share some of your burden, Jask.”
“I lay awake every night and think that Dijkstra has sent assassins to kill us in our sleep and takes over Cintra.” Jaskier admitted, “Nilfgaard may be pushed back on their heels for now, but there are still threats everywhere. And no network already in place to help. The importance of this first council of the Cintran court cannot be overstated.”
“I can help, Jask. I am not completely hopeless at politics. And for Ciri, I will bear it.”
Jaskier smiled a bit weakly, “Ok.”