EtheralMendes

Nereida lay sound asleep in bed, the one solace she found in her prison sentence. But this was interrupted by a hand clamping over her mouth. Startling awake, she moved for her dagger but registered Geralt before her. He put a finger to his lips and slowly moved his hand away from her.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Geralt, if you’re caught-”

“I’m getting you out of here,” he told her, “turns out the servants hate the king almost as much as I do,” he pulled her from her bed and handed her a dress, “put this on,” he urged.

The world seemed to spin as she went into action, the dress no sooner was tied and then Geralt was pulling her from the door. She stumbled behind him as her ladies maid fell in line behind her.

“Geralt, hang on,” she pulled him to a stop, “I can’t ask these people to sacrifice their life for me, what happens when Calgary finds me gone?”

“With all due respect your majesty,” the servant interrupted, “each and everyone of us would give our life to see you free from him. You have shown us more kindness in the short months you’ve been here than he has in his entire life. Now go, save your life,” she urged.

The witcher tugged on her hand again as they set off out of the castle through a secret passageway. Nereida stumbled behind him until the adrenaline kicked in. She looked behind them to see no one following as they reached the horses who set off towards the ship waiting for the small group.

Once aboard she stared at the shrinking sightline of Novigrad, the world she was forced to endure now coming to an end. She turned and looked back at her rescuer, a Witcher, a creature rumored not to care, stood before her. Nereida rushed to him and fell into his arms.

“You came back,” she sobbed against his chest.

He looked down at her and rubbed her cheek, “of course I did,” he laid his forehead against hers, “of course I came back to you.”

Jaskier’s strums of his lute slowed as he looked around at those who sat at the fire. The journey had been long back to the main continent and started early this morning. Ciri laid her head in Nereida’s lap, Nereida’s head on Geralt’s shoulder as she listened to the bard’s song. Jaskier smiled softly and sat his lute in its case.

“What is it, Jask?” the woman looked at him, lifting her head.

“I might suggest it is time for rest, it’s been a long day and if we want to keep moving further away from the shore then we will need to start again tomorrow just as early,” he replied

“Jaskier’s right,” Geralt hummed and tapped Ciri awake, “all of you go get some rest, I can take watch,” he urged. The couple shared a look and the white-haired man nodded to her.

The bard disappeared into his tent and Nereida settled Ciri before joining Geralt back at the fire, “mind if I join you?” she asked softly.

“I thought I told you to get some rest,” Geralt urged her as she sat down.

“When have you ever been able to get rest after going through torture?” she asked. The question wasn’t meant to be answered, just left to hang in the air. The reality of their circumstances kept them company as the fire crackled in front of the both of them. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“For what?” he asked as he set his hand on her knee.

She laughed humorlessly, “for everything, the pain I caused, the need to rescue me, the-”

“Hey,” he tilted his head to meet her gaze, “none of that was in control, nor was what Calgary did to your family, or to you.”

She licked her lips, “I’m afraid his choices are going to live with me for the rest of my life,” she swallowed hard.

“What do you mean?” Geralt asked gently, “Rei, talk to me.”

Biting her lip as she mulled over the words, she grabbed onto his arms for strength, “he said he wanted to make sure his legacy never died, that I was the key. He told me that if I fought back he would give away Ciri’s location.”

“Did he-” “I allowed him, Geralt,” her lip trembled as she squeezed her eyes closed, “I did what I felt I had to to protect you three. He may not be here, but,” she laid her hand on her stomach, “his kid will be,” she let out a shaky breath, “as soon as I knew I thought of every way to keep this child from entering the world. Because I knew- I knew that if it was a girl then she would suffer a fate so close to mine. But if it was a boy, then I just knew he would be raised to be as cruel, as ruthless, as unforgiving just like the one who sired him,” she shook her head, “and now I don’t know what to do. I am left to think that what if I had said no? What if I had made an escape? What if I had been stronger?” she grimaced.

“Nereida,” Geralt called her back to him from the dark sea of her thoughts, “you are more than strong enough. Living with him, giving yourself to him shows you are so much stronger than any soldier in any battle. Your world might look different, but I am not going anywhere, neither is Ciri, or I regret to say neither is Jaskier,” he offered a small joke to draw a laugh from her, “whatever your choice is when it comes to this child, I trust and respect your decision. But, if you choose to carry it with you, know that I am with you and nothing will change that. We both have been through enough horrors to know how to keep them from experiencing them. Princess Nereida of Cidaris, I love you.”

“Geralt,” she breathed tearfully before hugging him tight, “I love you so much,” she muttered against his neck.

He smiled and slowly pulled back to admire her. His fingers traced down the chain that was tucked behind her clothes and pulled it out to reveal his pendant. Geralt stared wordlessly as he traced his thumb over the wolf.

She rested her hand over his and looked at him, “this is what kept me clinging onto life, the hope that I might see you again.”

A wedding was supposed to be magical, at least that is what Nereida always read in her books back home. But, as she started herself down in the mirror, she no longer saw who she used to be, but a shell of a human. The servant laced her in her wedding dress and she felt as if she was being prepared for a death march. She took a deep breath and dismissed the servant after the dress was in place.

She brushed through her hair as Yennefer appeared in her room, “well look at that, you look like your title would imply.”

“Why are you here?” she grimaced, months of being in the freezing hell had worn down her fight. There were days where Nereida struggled to rise from her bed, the invisible chains weighing her down.

“To give a wedding gift, from Prince Calgary,” she placed the box on the side of the vanity, “he wishes you to wear it instead of your city’s jewels.”

“Why did he not give it to me himself?” she asked bitterly, “he likes reminding me of his wealth and power.” “I do as he commands, don’t ask questions,” the mage said simply.

“And I know that to be a lie,” Nereida challenged as she shot up, “you do nothing unless you benefit from it, so what is it? Power? Wealth? “ she demanded, “or maybe it’s Geralt, you thought bringing me here would result in him returning to you. So go on, take him, you’ve won!” Her shout echoed off the walls, “go to him because as of today I will lose everything already, what is my heart along with the rest?”

Yennefer paced the room, looking around, “maybe I will, and then you’ll see what it’s like to me.”

“That’s all it is to you ever want,” she glared at the woman, “for the world to suffer as you did, because nobody can have a chance, unless Yennefer did,” Nereida drew herself to her full height, “leave or don’t, that is not my decision, but you can have nothing else to ruin here.” She turned to face the rising sun, knowing that by the time it set, her world would be different.

The world around her closed in as she walked down the aisle towards Calgary

“Give him time, dear,” the old woman said as she took the princess’ night robe, “love will come.”

“I do not want to love him,” Nereida stood and looked at the woman, “he is vile and cruel.”

“Princess,” the servant snapped, “you should not speak of Prince Calgary in such a way. He is a good man, who will give you strong sons. Now, none of the hysterics from you,” she insisted and looked to the door as Calgary entered.

Nereida stared at the man as he dismissed the servants from the room. She tried to hold back her tears as he stalked closer and closer to her. A small sob escaped her mouth as he grabbed her jaw.

“You can make this easy,” he walked her back toward the bed, “or you can make it hard,” he pushed her back.

Geralt growled in frustration as they landed in Novigrad. Despite the helpless feeling in the pit of his stomach from landing three months too late, he pushed and shoved his way towards the palace.

“Geralt,” Jaskier called out from behind him.

“Faster, Jaskier,” the Witcher growled.

Ciri’s shouts are what stopped him cold, “Geralt!” He turned to find palace guards holding both his companions.

Geralt dropped his bags and unsheathed his sword as he glared at the men in silver who surrounded them.

“Stop,” the captain of the guard said from behind him, “there is no reason for all of that,” his smile like venom as he stared the Witcher down. “Our prince is more than glad to welcome you to his table. Come in.”

Geralt eyed the man suspiciously, but sheathed his sword all the same, “for what price?”

“No cost,” the guard claimed.

“We want to see Nereida,” Ciri demanded, coming to the side of Geralt.

“And you will little lion cub,” the captain patronized, “follow me.”

Once in the dining hall, the far traveled trio scanned for the princess that had long been absent from her home. Geralt growled in his throat as he realized they were the only ones there, “this feels like a trap.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, “what do we do? How will we find her?”

The doors burst open, announcing Calgary’s entrance, “so sorry to keep you all waiting, some royal business to attend to,” he smirked. Stopping in front of Geralt, he looked him up and down, “so glad you could finally make it. Come, you must be starved after your journey,” he gestured to the table.

“Where is she?” Geralt growled.

“Where is wh-”

“Don’t play dumb,” Geralt shouted, “Nereida, the girl you ripped away from her homeland and killed her only remaining family. Where. Is. She?”

“Oh, forgive me,” Calgary replied coyly, “allow me to introduce you to, my wife,” he gestured to the side hall.

She was heard before she was seen, the sweeping of her gown and heels clacking against the cold stone of the castle. When the princess entered, she was hardly recognizable. Her youthful appearance gave way to every inch a queen. But dark secrets hid beneath the glittering jewels; hair tied back accentuated the loss of color from her face, the gold and white gown hid away the nights that were spent breaking down her spirit. The crown she wore glittered more than her eyes which had long lost their hint of childlike mischief. Her eyes were downcast as she stepped beside Calgary.

“A vision isn’t she?” Calgary wrapped his arms around her, the need to squirm long beaten out of her.

“Nereida,” Geralt said quietly, taking her in.

“Sir Witcher, Jaskier, Princess Cirilla,” she said formally with a curtsey, “what an honor to host you today alongside my husband.”

“Rei,” Ciri pleaded, “it’s us,” she insisted as she ran up to her, hugging her tight, a heartbreaking silence ensued as Nereida’s arms hung limp at the hug. The child broke away and looked at her and went to speak before being cut off by Calgary urging them all to the table.

Even across from Nereida, Geralt could not see into her as well as he was used to. It was as if she had surrounded herself with stone as cold as they were in now. Winter had not long been over but it was becoming clear to him the ice in her heart may never melt. Trying to catch her gaze felt useless as it remained transfixed on the table.

“Geralt, I do not remember any monsters roaming about Novigrad, are you aware of something I am not?”

“A bruxa, found just on the shores of your kingdom I tracked it here,” he lied smoothly.

“And of course to gaze upon the new soon to be queen, why many come from all over the continent to see her. She’s a beauty isn’t she, Geralt?”

Nereida stood suddenly, “might I be excused my lord? I’m afraid I am not feeling all too well.”

“Very well,” he waved her off with his hand sending her towards the exit, “be sure Yennefer gets you the care you need,” he stopped her in the doorway. Nereida grimaced and left the room.

Geralt looked to Prince Calgary with wide eyes, “Yennefer?” he growled, “what is she doing here?” “She’s my mage, where else would she be?” the prince laughed.

“In hell,” Jaskier grumbled.

“What was that, bard?” the royal demanded.

“Nothing, your grace,” Jaskier offered a fake smile.

“Prince Calgary, I need to excuse myself, feminine matters,” Ciri offered a fake wince and ran from the room as he waved her off.

The blonde rushed around the corner, looking from side to side until she collided with a figure before her.

“Cirilla?” Nereida asked confused, “what are you doing here?”

“Nereida,” she gasped and hugged her once more as she sobbed quietly, “I’ve missed you so much.” Nereida looked around before hugging back the small girl, “not what are you doing in this hall, but what are you doing here in Novigrad?”

Ciri pulled back and looked at her, “we came to rescue you, why else would we have come?”

The redhead panicked and pulled the younger princess to her room, “statements like that can get you into a lot of trouble around here. It’s not safe for you or me to leave this place.”

“Why? Don’t you want to be with us?” Ciri questioned as Nerieda began to cry.

“Of course I want to,” she sobbed and crouched to her level, “but if I leave then Calgary will send the Nilfgaardians after you and his own after me.”

“Not if we kill Calgary,” Ciri emphasized, “with all of us we can do it, I know we can.” “Ciri,” she said gently, “I’m afraid that is not a solution to my problems, nor would it be a long term one for yours. My brave little lion, the Fates have determined this is my story.”

“No,” the youngest insisted, “that can’t be true. We will find a way to break you out of here, can’t you see this place is slowly killing you. Maybe not physically but I can see it. I want our family to be whole again.”

“What do you suggest?” the oldest asked nervously, “there is so little time I am left alone.”