Chapter Text
One day, 24 hours, 1,440 minutes, 86,400 seconds, that's all the time Ciri had to rescue her family. Each passing second was a reminder of the ticking clock, the relentless march of time. It didn't seem like much, but it was all Ciri had, and she was determined to make every moment count.
Like all daring plans, Ciri's strategy began with a touch of audacity, a hint of recklessness. It was a plan that danced on the edge of danger, a plan that could either save her family or lead to disaster. The audacity of her plan sent a thrill down her spine, a rush of excitement that she couldn't ignore.
With it still dark outside, Ciri walked towards Geralt and Jaskier's apartment. From watching them these last couple of days, she had learned a few things. One was that each morning, Geralt always came outside to check for the morning papers.
From what Ciri can understand in the original timeline, know one but Jaskier knew about the stalker. This time, Ciri was going to change it.
She put a fake version of the stalker note, a crucial element in her plan, in the mailbox. She was going to make sure that this time Geralt was aware.
Once the letter was set, Ciri made her way back to the dinner, figuring that she could probably get some early breakfast, or maybe it was a late dinner before Jaskier and Geralt woke up.
A few hours later, Ciri walked back to the apartment building when she heard yelling. It sounded like Geralt and Jaskier were arguing.
Their voices echoed in the hallway, filled with tension. Geralt's accusation was sharp, cutting through the air. "How could you not have told me?" He yelled.
This was a side problem that Ciri had foreseen. What if it gets out that Geralt and Jaskier argued for Jaskier's murder? Would that give even more evidence of Geralt's guilt?
"I just didn't want to worry you," Jaskeir replied, his voice softer than Geralt's but still loud.
Finally, Ciri made her appearance, ready to walk Roach. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her concern for Jaskier's safety evident in her voice and eyes.
"It's nothing," Jaskier said, although Ciri could see he was shifting around nervously. Acting more like a child who caught, with his hands in the cookie jar.
"Nothing," Geralt yelped, holding up the paper. "Someone left a threatening note directly to you."
Ciri put up a surprise look. "Is that about the letter on the car?". She asked.
"What note?" Geralt turned from Ciri to Jaskier, his eyes narrowing as he put the pieces together. "Jask, what note?"
"It's nothing," Jaskier repeated, shaking his hand dismissively. Roach seemed to sense, something was wrong as she walked over to Jaskier, wagging her tail as she did so. "Just someone, been leaving me notes. A bit of an obsessive fan, really." Jaskier bend over to hug his dog.
"You knew about this?" Geralt asked, looking at Ciri. She was honestly surprised at the lack of rage in his eyes.
Ciri put her hands up dismissively. "I only found out about this the other day by accident. I didn't know it was that bad."
Jaskier was sitting on the floor, Roach was zooming around him, trying to get some comfort. "I'm telling you, it's probably just a fan".
"Jask, this isn't some fan," Geralt replied, "this is a stalker, and we need to do something about"
"I didn't want you to worry," Jaskier whispered. Ciri watched as Geralt got down on his knee.
"Jaskier, you are my husband. It's part of my vows to worry about you," Geralt answered.
Ciri took her chance to pipe up. "If this stalker knows where you guys live, it might be a good idea if you stayed somewhere else for the time being".
Geralt stood up, shaking his head in agreement. "Right, good idea, we can stay at Yen," Geralt answered, helping Jaskier up.
"I can drop Roach there after her walk," Ciri offered. One part kindness, and another part, Ciri need Roach for the next part of her plan.
"That would be nice of you, Fiona," Jaskier said, for the first time smiling.
Ciri watched as Geralt and Jaskier moved to go back for a bag. As she walked outside, Roach leash in hand. She had completed the first part of her plan, ensuring Jaskier wouldn't be alone in the apartment tonight.
For her whole life, Ciri had lived in the same City. Certain things changed, from stores opening and then closing. Once-popular restaurants are closing their doors. The flicker of neon sighs reflecting off rain-slick streets, the faint hum of the tram lines.
Despite being in the past, Ciri could still see the same skyline. A version of the City, still the same yet different. Like a song played in a slightly wrong key, close enough to be recognizable, but wrong enough to make her uneasy.
Every croner reminded her of what she was racing against, every sound of her boots against the pavement ticked louder in her head. The relentless tick of a clock's second hand.
Twenty-four hours. Ciri repeated to herself, steadying her breath. Every choice she made now rippled outward.
Roach trotted beside her, tail wagging, yet somehow Ciri felt like Roach also knew what was happening. For Ciri, it was comfort and crushing weight. Knowing she had a partner in this, but also adding to the worry that if she failed. Then Roach would lose them, too.
One thing in the City that always stayed the same. If you knew where to look, you could always find a place to obtain some less-than-legal items.
Ciri found herself standing under a bridge, Roach by her side. Before a man, Giselher appeared.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I need to buy a gun," Ciri said, before coming to park, she pawned off this golden necklace she had been wearing. It belonged to her grandmother and was one of her most prized possessions, but if Ciri's plan worked out, then she would get it back. For now, the necklace was used to get a lot of cash. "And I need it today."
Gislher took the money from Cir's hands, counting it slowly. Ciri held her breath as she watched him. "Can I ask why the urgency?" he asked.
"I have this boyfriend," Ciri answered, a lie. But she could perform. "Well, really, this ex-boyfriend, I'm afraid he's going to hurt me."
"And you want protection," Gishler answered. "I can get you your gun in about three hours".
"That's perfect," Ciri answered. The second part of her plan was complete.
The next few hours later, Ciri walked with Roach to Yennefer's home. Her newly purchased weapon was hiding in the bottom of her backpack.
Getting closer, with Roach leash still in hand, Ciri could hear what sounded like Yennefer, Geralt and Jaskier speaking. They sounded happy.
The sound of their laughter, so carefree and light, was a stark contrast to the heavy feeling in Ciri's chest. She paused at the gate, her grip tightening on Roach's leash.
Every instinct screamed at her to run inside, to join her family. But she was torn, her heart a battlefield of longing and duty.
But she couldn't. She didn't have the luxury of forgetting. The clock kept ticking, reminding her of the dangers that always lurked around them.
She gave Roach a leash, giving it a gentle tug as she walked up the path to Yennefer's front door. A deep breath, and Ciri knocked on the door.
"Fiona," Yennefer smiled, making it seem as though she had no idea how Ciri really was. "Glad you can make it."
Ciri walked into the front hall of Yennefer's home, the second Roach leash was undone, and the dog hurried over to her two humans.
"Fiona," Jaskier exclaimed happily, his face slightly pink from alcohol. Before anyone could, Jaskier dropped to the floor, burying his face into Roach's fur.
Geralt appeared from the kitchen. "Don't mind him." In his arms, he held the baby Crilia. "Come in, have some dinner," Geralt offered.
"Oh, I really shouldn't," Ciri replied, couldn't make myself seem off in any way.
"Nonsense," Jaskier answered, although it sounded a bit weird, probably due to his face being buried in a dog.
"Alright, but only for a little bit," Ciri said.
For the next hour, they were almost like a family.
The kitchen filled with laughter, dream Ciri wanted to stay in forever. Geralt would pass a glass of wine to Yennefer. Jaskier sang a few lines of a half-finished ballad as he bounced the baby on his lap.
Under the table, Roach snored. In the midst of it all, Ciri allowed herself to sit for just a moment. As the rain started, Ciri felt the anticipation of the final part of her plan beginning.
"I really need to be going," Ciri said, standing up. She could see the other looking at her. "My grandmother doesn't like being left alone in bad weather."
"Do you need a ride?" Geralt asked, looking Ciri up and down.
Ciri shook her head. "No, it's not that far," she explained. "But I forgot my jacket, umm, Jaskier, I was wondering if I could borrow your coat," she asked in a casual tone.
"Of course," Jaskier answered.
Wearing, Jaskier jacket, Ciri walked outside in the rain. Putting the hood up to keep her face hidden. She figured that if someone were watching them, then she would use the jacket and the hard visibility the rain would make it hard enough to tell that it wasn't really Jaskier.
The rain came down harder, well Ciri kept walking. The water dripped off the hood of Jaskier's coat. Every sound seemed sharper, and every sound was heavier.
The City, just like Ciri, was holding its breath.
Ciri pulled the coat tiger around her as she kept walking. Briskly and deliberately, with a pep in her step, just like Jaskier would.
The pounding of Ciri's heart beat in rhythm with the rainfall. Somewhere out there, the blur of storm and neon, the stalker was watching.
She needed him to take the bait.
The weight of the gun was heavy in Cir bags, a heavy reminder. "Just a few more moments," she whispered to herself.
Behind her, a car engine hummed. Too close. Too careful. She didn't look back; it was part of the plan. Ciri didn't turn around; the hood shielded her face.
Finally, Ciri approached the apartment, and she reached into her pocket. Jaskier's keys were where they were supposed to be. It was an accident. Ciri had swiped them, needing to make it look like she was just the musician.
Stepping into the apartment, Ciri positioned herself away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She retrieved the gun from her bag and waited, every second feeling like an eternity, until she heard the door unlock.
The masked man stepped into the home, unaware that his prey was not present. There would be no other victim this time.
A gunshot shattered the silence.