#creature ciri

Oh you bet your sweet ass she does

---

It had been six years since the pirate Captain and the half-siren, ex-noble had brought Cirilla onboard the Kaer Morhen. She’d grown into quite the little pirate princess, always teasing her crewmates and getting into trouble.

“Papa! Look!” she hung upside down from the mizzenmast support beam and grinned ferociously. “I could be in the circus!”

“Well you’re on a ship so it would be really lovely if you could-”

“GET DOWN FROM THERE!” Starkey orders, yelling over the top of Jaskier’s voice. “YOU’RE GOING TO FALL AND BREAK YOUR NECK AND THEN BOTH YOUR DADS WILL KILL ME.”

“We won’t kill you,” Geralt shrugged, approaching. “I’ll keelhaul you.”

“I wouldn’t want you keelhauled,” Ciri frowned, scampering gracefully down to the deck. She clung to Geralt’s leg and climbed him next, throwing her arms around his neck as she laid across his broad back. “Right, Father?”

“Hmm.”

“Papa says you have to use your words.”

“That’s right,” Jaskier nodded, patting her head. “Very good, Cirilla.”

“Ciri,” she insisted. “Captain Ciri, someday.”

"I am lonely and looking for a hand to hold."

"Sunrise is red today."

-sol

we’re going... a-pirating.

---

Jaskier glanced out at the rising sun and shook his hair out of his eyes, “Sunrise is red today, Geralt. Not a good sign.”

“We’ll get closer to the coast before we batten down,” the Captain decided, wrapping an arm around the half-siren’s shoulders. “Otherwise we’ll get hit by the full brunt and I know you hate storms.”

“That I do,” Jaskier nodded. “And I’m sure that Ciri probably won’t fare much better.”

“Speaking of the little sea-witch,” Geralt glanced around the deck, “Where is that mischievous daughter of ours?”

“She’s with Starkey and Lambert.”

“Oh no.”

---

“Alright, Cirilla,” Lambert instructed, taking one of her tiny, chubby hands in his. “Now this is how you hold a dagger properly.”

He used his finger as the hilt, adjusting her grip until it was correct and smiling when she squeezed confidently. Even toddlers could make for decent swordsmen if you started them early enough and Ciri was no exception. 

“What are you teaching her now?” Geralt asked from the doorway, ushering his impatient wife through the door. Jaskier curled up on the floor next to Ciri and cooed delightedly when she moved her hand from Lambert’s to his, demonstrating her dagger grip. 

Jaskier began to chitter excitedly in the Language and Ciri giggled back in her own bubbly way. They both spoke the same tongue but while Jaskier’s consonants were sharp and distinctive, Cirilla’s were rounded and softer. “Dialects,” the ex-noble had once explained to his doe-eyed husband. “She and I come from different circles.”

“You come from no circle,” Geralt had rolled his eyes. “You were raised on land.”

“And a tragedy that was.”

Now, though, the two of them communicated easily. Sometimes the Captain felt a little left out but mostly he was happy that his wife was happy. And his gorgeous adopted daughter. 

“I’ll get her a real weapon soon,” Starkey nodded. “The little menace.”

I hope you feel better soon, boo. I know the changing seasons and the holidays can be really hard. Hold on! You can do it!

---

Jaskier cooed and brushed his tiny daughter’s hair out of her face. She giggled back and grabbed at his fingers with her small, chubby hands. Geralt knelt beside the bed and gazed up at his darling wife with wide, loving eyes. “She’s gorgeous, like her Papa.”

“Like her Father, too,” the half-siren replied. “And what a powerful Voice she’ll have someday.”

“We are the luckiest men on the planet,” Geralt rumbled. Jaskier carefully picked up their daughter and scooted forward, allowing Geralt to sit behind him against the headboard and cradle his wife and child in his wide lap. “Hello, Ciri. Good morning, my love!”

Ciri gurgled and smiled, baring her pointed gums joyfully at her two fathers. Jaskier felt a tear land on the skin of his neck and didn’t mention it. Geralt hated crying and hated being seen crying even more; Jaskier could talk to him about it later. 

“What a lovely girl,” he smiled. Geralt nodded.