Chapter Text
- Nilfgaard, 1278, Spring -
Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, Empress of Nilfgaard, sat on her throne in her court in the capital and smiled. For the first time in nearly a year she sat in this place and smiled an honest, radiating smile. After the defeat of the Wild Hunt and her accepting her heritage and reconciling with her biological(!) father, her life had been a mess. Between the endless lesson by the emperor and his advisors about politics and governing a world empire, the practice-dinners with her waiting girls to learn courtly manners and etiquette and even the sessions with all the tailors and shoemakers from all over the empire to install a sense of fashion in her – which had actually worked as Yen had attested – her mood had darkened and darkened every day for nearly three years.
In addition to this, her fight with the Hunt, or more precisely the battle against the white void afterwards, had also cost her something. Her ability to blink, to change between dimensions was gone. Now she was a ‘normal’ human. And she actually liked it, not having to constantly look over her shoulder and dread the day Eredin would find her. But still, some part of her existence, her personality had been lost along the way. Her freedom to go anywhere she wanted whenever she pleased was gone.
After three years of education, her life as Princess and Empress-to-be had changed even more drastically. Her begetter fell ill to an unknown disease and from one day to another, Ciri became the sole monarch of half the known world. But the lessons had not only made her a fashionable lady but also a ruler. So, she had acted swiftly and cunnigly to secure her position.
Her first official act had been to install Yennefer of Vengerberg, the only woman that she would ever consider her mother, for she could barely remember Pavetta of Cintra, as her first advisor and court-sorceress. Yen had been her only stable anchor during the harsh changes to her life after the White Death, since Ciri had a heartfelt goodbye with Geralt and Triss in White Orchard as the couple opted to go to Kovir so Triss could help rebuild Council and Chapter of mages and take a post at King Thyssen’s court. Some might have guessed Yen’s promotion was due to political ambition and influence the raven-haired sorceress had over the new empress, but it was the opposite. The enchantress had accompanied her adoptive daughter to the capital, already on good terms with Emhyr, but she didn’t take any position in the court hierarchy. Ciri had been incredibly thankful that Yen was there, but had to beg her for almost a week before the latter would agree to get back into the game as her mage-advisor.
Yen’s ambition had faded over the years and she was content with a quiet life as Ciri’s confident, her days spend relaxing, studying ancient books in the giant library of the capital or providing some hours of recreation for the princess. She had even developed a secret guilty pleasure in reading romance novels. She had also started to teach Ciri some simple spells but mostly for fun and games. Because even though Ciri’s abilities had mostly been gone by the time she had awoken after her fight with the White Death, a bit of magic had remained, enough to have some fun playing little pranks on the palace servants.
The development of Yen’s lifestyle was a mystery to the now empress as she had known her adoptive mother to be always out for an advantage and power in the grand game of politics. But it had also increased her trust in the sorceress and Yen seemed to be more happy and cheerful than ever. In the end, Yen had agreed to help her, but insisted that when times would get quieter, Ciri would hire at least one more mage to her court, so Yen could go back to her quiet life. Little had Ciri known whom Yen had in mind as the other mage, or rather sorceress.
Ciri’s second act had been to get rid of all her political enemies. Even if she once was a young woman only interested in swords and monsters, she had – despite not really wanting it – developed into a cunning and even a bit ruthless ruler. She was far from being as hungry for power as her late father was, but still sometimes when some nobleman tried to gain too much advantage or one of Ciri’s reforms was sabotaged by the still existing resistance by certain parties in the court, you could see a glimpse of the dancing white flame in the empress’ eye.
One of the hardest incidents of this time was the meeting with her doppelganger, Emhyr had used as a decoy and to legitimate his reign of Cintra. After his daughter, the real Ciri had returned to her father he had a problem: How would he explain that one woman was his daughter and heiress and the other was his legal wife. But he had found a solution, simple and permanent: Never talk about it and have the people who did talk about I visited by one of his ‘persuasion experts’. But after his death, Ciri had sent for the girl wanting to meet her. When the woman had stood in front of the empress, a nervous and scarred expression on her face, Ciri couldn’t believe it. False Cirilla really looked a lot like her, lacking her scars of course and also her ashen-silver hair. Instead Cirilla Fiona had fair blond hair and her eyes were brown-green instead of emerald. But still, the similarities were undeniable. Ciri hadn’t known what to do with her. She had intensely consulted with Yen, how to proceed with the doppelgänger. Finally, she decided to simply sent her away to where she came from, back to Darn Rowan with Stella Congreve her caretaker. The young woman had fell to her feet infront of the empress, kissed her hands and thanked her for her kindness.
Ciri had been completely stunned and at this night she had nearly trashed Yen’s room while the sorceress sat on the couch letting her girl let out her anger. Ciri had been furious and her hate for her so-called father flamed back up. This old bastard was the most horrible person she could think of, not only making Ciri’s own life miserable, even wanting to impregnate her if she had been willing or not, as Yen had told her not long after his death, but dragging some innocent Cintran girl into it, who had lived in fear of being executed any day. And over the course of her tantrum Ciri had come to realize that she had become somehow similar to him. Only then had Yen stood up and took her in her arms telling her that that was so far from the truth as the world of the Aen Elle was from theirs.
Now, nearly a year of hard work, intrigues and endless court meetings later, every enemy had been defeated and her rule secured. But that was not the reason for her good mood and the wide smile that played on Ciri’s lips while she sat on her throne today. Her throne, not Emhyr’s since she had gotten rid of the pretentious ugly thing and replaced it with a comfortable and more modest seating accommodation. No, it was because today was the day, she would instate the new, second mage-advisor Yen had proposed or rather insisted on. And it was no one else than Triss Merigold of Maribor. Yen’s choice had been quiet the surprise for Ciri and it also took some diplomatic back and forth between her emissary in Kovir and King Tankred to bargain Triss out of her position, but when Yen had come in, it only took one letter to Triss and another to King Thyssen to bring the red-head on the way south.
Ciri hadn’t seen her ‘big-sis’ in what felt like ages so she was happy to reunited with the woman how was her first female role-model in life. And along with the fiery sorceress came her husband, a certain famous and infamous witcher. They had been wed two years ago in a grand ceremony on Ard Skellig that Ciri, the an Craits along with Moussack and of course all their other friends had attended. Even Yennefer had been there and after the vows and big kiss – more a snog – she had given Triss the hug of a best friend and stepped up to Geralt and kissed his cheek. It had been a wonderful day for Ciri to see the women on good terms and it had become an even more wonderful night. Because in this night she had reunited with Cerys an Crait, the Queen of Skellige and had spent hours talking and laughing with the young ruler before sharing a kiss and then making love until falling asleep in each other’s arms.
The thought of Cerys made Ciri smile even more. Her love had visited Ciri shortly after the coronation just months after the wedding to negotiate peace treaties and to end the decade long war between Nilfgaard and the islands. Cerys had ended up staying a whole month, forming new bonds between Skellige and the south and also intensifying the bond with her swallow. They had celebrated the peace and their reunion in every bed the two were able to find, on Ciri’s throne and in the bathhouse.
As Geralt and Triss walked up to her throne Ciri took a short moment to look around. To her right stood Yennefer in one of her signature black dresses and had a broad, beautiful smile on her face that she was altering between the young empress and the couple in front of the throne. Behind Yennefer stood the var Attre twins, Cirilla’s waiting girls, shooting Triss curious and Geralt friendly looks. As the couple had reached the throne, they bowed their heads before their new empress. Ciri’s eyes widened. For Triss the movements seemed natural, she had been the advisor to Foltest and had been in such a situation all the time, but for Geralt to bow his head – even when it was more of a long nod – before anyone seemed completely out of character.
Ciri giggled quietly. She obviously had changed more than she had been aware of to make the impression on these people so important to her that they had to bow. She stood from her throne and took a few steps. ‘Fuck it all’ she thought and then hugged the pair in front of the whole court and was their girl, their Ciri again.
They spent the evening over dinner talking, catching up. Yennefer had told Triss of the newest political errant of some of the noble man, even gossiping a bit about the south’s mages, while Ciri had told Geralt proudly how she had taken up more time lately to practice her fighting skills and had beaten every sword-master she was able to bring to Nilfgaard. Geralt had smiled like the proudest father, but when the white-haired Empress had boasted, that she might be able to even take on him they had to be stopped to by Triss and Yen from letting the servants bring swords instead of spoons for dessert.
Later Ciri lay in her bed, full of glee, feeling like she was eighteen again, but without a trace of tiredness. She was overjoyed to see her big sis and her father again – who were now married, which was kinda weird, but fuck it they looked so happy and beautiful together. And she was also happy, that Yen seemed to have left behind all anger and hurt she had felt towards both, talking to Triss in their friendly, sisterly manner and also treating Geralt with respect and kindness. And the love that Ciri had witnessed jumping out of Geralt’s and Triss’ eyes every time they looked at each other had warmed Ciri’s heart. It made her think of Cerys, who always gave her such looks when they were unobserved.
The empress missed her warrior-queen terribly, but both their royal duties made the occasions they were together sparse. But therefore, more intense and cherished as well. The last time Ciri had seen her lover had been months ago. They had come together at a meeting of all the client states of her empire. Of course, Skellige was far from being one of them, the islanders still fiercely independent just like their queen. That actually was what made Ciri fall in love with the islands when she had been younger and spent the summers there. And it had also made her fall for Cerys who was the best representation of everything good about the islands: She was fierce and independent, knew what she wanted and was a true warrior at heart, but at the same time she wasn’t a mindless war machine like her brother and knew the perks to being diplomatic.
Skellige now was a trade partner, a feat Ciri had accomplished with her intimate knowledge of the islands and the jarls along with the help of her warrior-queen. Even though relationships were still tense they became better by the month. At said meeting a delegation from Skellige had taken part as a new ally of Nilfgaard and had gotten to meet most of the noble folk of the continent. And Ciri and Cerys had used the time between meetings to all its potential. They had made love whenever they had the chance leading to some close catches when they had romped just after dinner in one of the hallways, and even to an incident where Yen had come for an evening visit as swallow and sparrowhawke were in the middle of playing. Cerys had to hide under the blanket, but when Yen had said her goodnight, she also addressed the young islander and the naked women had burst out laughing. Yen always knew what her daughter was up to without reading her mind, their body language enough for someone who had known Ciri for such a long time. It had been a beautiful two weeks with her queen and also the last time since Ciri had been intimate with somebody.
After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, the empress decided to just get up again and see if she could find something to do. Maybe Yen was sill awake for some Gwent – a game they had started playing and enjoying to both of their surprises some months ago. Ciri put on her blue night gown from silk to cover her body which was only clad in lacy undergarments. She opened the door of her spacious chamber and walked bare feet through the empty hallways. This part of the palace was her private domicile, her sanctuary which no one was allowed to enter without her permission, so she didn’t need to worry about running into some servant or guard in her royal but revealing attire. The domicile was actually rather abandoned because most of the rooms were unoccupied. Ciri simply didn’t trust most people here in the capital, Yen of course and the twins were also an exception, as they had their room close to hers to serve her every need. The empress passed the chamber of her waiting girls, whom she had taken a liking to despite her initial dislike towards the twins because of their job to teach the empress ‘manners’. But her distaste had faded over time, even more so after discovering that Rosa had a thing for fighting and Edna was the sweetest girl with a not to small cheekiness and pretty fun when she opened up a bit.
On the other side of the hallway was Yen’s room. Ciri stood in front of the door and knocked, a polite gesture that seemed unnecessary but Yen had insisted on Ciri retaining. After the knock Ciri waited but nothing happened. She knocked again but didn’t wait for a response this time. As she entered the chamber, it was dark and empty. The bed was untouched and the fire was out. Ciri looked around confused. She had said goodnight and hugged Yen just about two hours ago and the sorceress had retracted to her chamber.
Ciri left the room and continued through the hallway. Two doors after Yen’s was the spacious guestroom Geralt and Triss were staying in. Before Ciri could knock this time, she halted her movement. She had heard something from inside. She wasn’t sure what it had been but it sounded like a moan. Ciri leaned closer to the doors and began eavesdropping without hesitation but a little shame. Yes, there were moans coming from the chamber, quieter and more feminine than the first one. Then there was a something that sounded like smacking followed by a louder, more aroused moan.
Ciri swallowed und retreated from the door. She didn’t need to think too hard what Triss and Geralt were doing in there. But although she was a grown woman of 27 years, the sole ruler of half the world and the people having sex behind that door were her adoptive-father and big sister/stepmother, she dropped to her knees and spied through the keyhole like a teenager. As she took in the scenery she swallowed again. The section of the room she could see was pretty small but her view on what was going on was perfect.
Triss lay on the bed with her hands tied behind her back in a thick rope. Her long hair, usually stuck up in two buns, was a mess around her upper body. Her lower body was more elevated with her ass sticking up into the air. Her cheeks while not as red as her hair were a deep shade of pink. Geralt towered over her. With one muscular arm he pressed his wife’s head into the bed while his other swung through the air every once in a while, to land a hefty hand on her ass. After every smack Triss let out a deep moan. All the while Geralt’s cock, veiny and massive, disappeared into the woman, her body small in comparison to her muscular partner. After a few seconds it reappeared from between Triss’ cheek only to be almost instantly slammed back down.
Ciri licked her lips. She felt a tingling in her nether regions. She knew it was wrong to spy on the pair but the scene in front of her aroused her greatly. At first, she thought it was normal, that a young, physical, but a little sex-starved woman got aroused by such a sight. And why not? Triss was a beauty and her body with the curvy bottom and big shapely breasts was a sight to behold. And her husband was a fine specimen just as much. His body, full of muscles while not giving him the look of a grotesque brute, was like of a statue and moving in a way, that made Ciri thank the witchers at Kaer Morhen for all the tests and treatments they had put him through. And his face was, at least to Ciri, who never understood how anybody could consider him a monster, also beautiful with the scars and yellow eyes fitting him perfectly.
Then Ciri thought her arousal came from her recent thoughts of Cerys and their sleeplessly spent nights. Or maybe it was the roughness that got to the young empress, as she had always been wild in the sheets and loved it when her lovers were rough with her, choked her or pressed her against a wall or the bed, like she was seeing Geralt doing to Triss right now.
But as Geralt pushed into Triss with an especially strong movement of his hips and pulled Triss head up with a strong grip in her hair, Ciri had to admit it was not a single one of these reasons but all of them combined along with something else. As her left hand wandered to her now burning vagina and Geralt put a hand around Triss throat and palmed one of her breasts, while her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, the empress realized something. She was not aroused – well damn it she was outright horny! – despites who she spied on, but also because.
She adored Triss’ perfect full breasts, that raised and fell down quickly with the fast breathing and loud moans, not only because they were plumb and perky and beautiful but because they belonged to Triss.
And the big throbbing cock of Triss’ partner, that had resumed disappearing and repairing into Triss folds brought Ciri to yearn the feeling of cock inside of her young snatch for the first time in years, not just because it was the biggest, most gorgeous tool, she had ever seen but because it was Geralt’s.
Ciri stopped rubbing over her outer lips. She stuck her fingers into her mouth, tasting herself, while imagining to taste the red-head who got her brains fucked out mere meters in front of the white-haired woman. She swirled her tongue around the digits, asking herself, what it would feel like doing the same thing to her adoptive-father’s amazing dick. Then she used her other hand to tuck away her lacy panties and insert her wet fingers into her burning cunt. She began fingering, trying to match the pace Geralt was applying to his wife.
The witcher was still going fast, and it seemed like Triss was in for a big climax. Her eyes shut tight and her mouth agape but no moan escaping her. Then suddenly her eyes flew open and quite shrieks began emitting her throat with every push of her husband.
“Harder, my wolf… choke me harder”, she whispered, barely audible for the spying empress. Geralt stopped his movements and Ciri with him. Her fingers were in her dripping vagina up to the knuckles and a puddle of her arousal had formed on the floor. Her heart was hammering, her own climax imminent, but prolonged by the sudden and perfect stop of the scene in front of her. She began panting. She needed, just needed the release so bad. But she stopped herself, wanting to come along with the gorgeous red-head. A few seconds nothing happened and like Ciri, Triss began squirming.
“Please, Geralt, give it to me. Choke me and make me cum”, Triss gasped with his cock buried in her to the hilt and her body completely under his control through the grip on her throat and the restraints on her arms. Triss squirming got stronger, and she tried to push her hips back into him, but the little movements just weren’t enough. Tears started forming in her green eyes, that made Ciri want to kiss Triss and give her the release the sorceress wanted so desperately. Ciri’s panting increased, she started shaking and wanted nothing but for Geralt to go back at it so all three of them could cum. Then Triss started begging.
“Please, please, my love, fuck me. Just give me your cock. I’ll do everything you want! I’ll be such a good girl, I promise. Just one more time, let me come just one more time.”
A grin spread Geralt’s features.
“You are always a good girl”, he grumbled and Ciri shivered upon hearing his bedroom voice. Deeper than normal and beyond sexy. As if on cue Geralt rearranged his grip on her to a much tighter version and thrust into her at a brutal pace. Triss squeezed her eyes shut again, the tears being pushed out of her eyes and she pressed her lips together.
Ciri’s throat escaped a low moan, as she imitated his motions. She quickly covered her mouth with her left, but didn’t even think of pulling out her fingers. Triss restarted squeaking but now the sounds only came out muffled and in a staccato. Ciri took down her hand again and rubbed her clit while biting her lips to stop herself from making more noise. Oh, how she wished that she was in Triss position, not being able to move or breath, just taking every inch of Geralt’s dick with the red-head watching her getting fucked, sucking on Ciri’s hard nipples and whispering to her, that she wanted the younger woman to also be a good girl and cum for her father.
Minutes passed and it all came to a glorious finish. Just a second before it was becoming too much for Ciri and she feared she had to stop touching herself to keep from coming too early. Triss eyes, her beautiful, big, green eyes, flew open again and her mouth formed an O. No sound escaped her sealed throat. Geralt followed closely behind and through his humping of the sorceress’ taunt body he let out a deep, animalistic growl that gave Ciri goosebumps and nearly mad her bust through the door to get her fill of his dick.
Ciri’s climax was massive. She buried her finger as deep in herself as they would go and pinched her clit, then, after moments in which she felt like she died an went to heaven, she resumed her mad thrusts and bucked into her hands. Her vision blurred but she didn’t blink, not wanting to miss any moment of the beautiful debauchery in front of her. Geralt now had a hand in Triss’ hair again and gave her all he had. Triss body was rippled with every thrust, her round breasts flopping on her chest. Her hands clawed and Geralt’s arm and her face was a mask of mad ecstasy. Geralt’s usual stoic face also gave a way his pleasure, his eyes closed and his mouth open with deep moans and growls coming from it. The empress moaned with him, this time not caring if she was heard, just caring for the moment, and for the two perfect bodies she lusted for.
After nearly three minutes of coming, Triss orgasm subsided. Geralt had held onto through her release but now her face slowly changed color. Her husband let go of her neck, but held her in a tight and secure embrace. She took a few deep breaths her eyes rolling around in her head and she looked like she was on the brink of passing out. Ciri was still pumping her fingers in, and rubbing at her clit, coming all the while through. Then, as Triss had recovered enough and her eyes focused again, Ciri slowly came down from her high. She felt dizzy and her whole body was tingling from the best orgasm of her life. Triss blinked a few times, then sighed and tuned her head.
“Thank you, my love”, she whispered and offered her mouth to her husband. Geralt smiled and whispered a ‘Love you’ back. He held her tight against his body and his lips captured her, making out with the red-head slowly and sensually. The second their lips touched Ciri was at it again. This moment, this tenderness Geralt showed, so harsh in contrast to the fucking he had just given his wife, and Triss coming back up from the depths over her submission and kissing her husband as an equal, still a little submissive, was just as arousing to the empress. She came a second time, but this climax was no comparison to the first one and felt not like the insanity of ecstasy. It was more like she had part in the love and tenderness the married couple showed each other as Triss whispered her love to him and how perfect he was and he was releasing her from the ropes that had held her arms back.
As her second climax had died down, much softer and slower than the first one, Ciri came slowly back to her senses. She swallowed and wiped away some drool that had escaped her mouth. She was confused as hell. What had just happened? What was she thinking masturbating to the sight of her adoptive father and sister screwing each other?
And something else came to her mind and made her think of Cerys. She loved the warrior-queen, she really did with all her heart. But not only her, that became clear to the empress, as she analyzed her feelings. When she thought of the people she loved and wanted to be with, there was also an image of Triss and Geralt coming to her mind, holding each other und and smiling at her, inviting her into the embrace. And then a fourth person entered the scene, slowly appearing behind Geralt and Triss in Ciri’s mental image. It was Yennefer. Ciri shut her eyes. In her mental plain, Yen walked towards her, only wearing her black thong and bra. Her hips shook with every step and she floated over the white surface like a dancer. A smile, sweet and seductive, played around Yen’s lips.
Ciri opened her eyes again. It was not possible. Even wrong, to think of such things with her mother, her father and her sister. Tears began filling her eyes. Then the door opened and Yen smiled down at her, sweet and seductive and beautiful, and said:
“Hello there, my little ugly one.”