I made the final part (at least final for now) of my Ciri cosplay - a pair of arm braces.
The idea comes from this tutorial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dg2p836m-Pk&t=3s
Obviously this guy has the level of skill I will not reach in a decade, but I really loved the idea of gluing two layers of different leather to get this pattern result. I watched the video to get the general idea, then went to draw my own pattern based on my measurements. I made two or three with different types of patterns before I picked one.
So, here is the final Ciri cosplay design. I might add a hood to that, because I have a concept idea and some wool leftovers from a cloak I made two years ago. The trousers I bought, but the rest I made.
(don’t mind the curls, obviously Ciri is not going to have curls, but I just curled my hair the day before)
Amazing cover pic by @venusedgedraws!! Her commissions are open, take a look at her wonderful work!!
Pairing: NONE (Geralt and Ciri have a father-daughter relacionship)
Rating: G
Words: 1.3 K
Genre: fluff
Trigger warning: none
Summary: Ciri befriends a cat and Geralts gets to pet it without it running away from him for the first time ever.
"Where's Ciri?" The white-haired witcher asked, impatiently heaving the wooden sword they trained with in his hand.
The youngest of his peers at Kaer Morhen shrugged, laying back on the grass. "Coming, probably."
"She's never late to a training session, Lambert," he replied with a desperate sigh.
"Geralt, relax! Maybe you're just early?" But he didn't get an answer. Underneath all those layers of armour, the White Wolf was but a worrier. "She's not a kid anymore, dude. She'll be okay."
"She is a kid, though. She's just seventeen."
"Just?!" Lambert groaned, running a gloved hand down his face in annoyance.
Fortunately, Ciri showed up before his father worried to death, running up to their mentors as happily as always.
"Hey!" She waved over at them, already wielding her own sword and attempting a strike at Geralt with a playful grin.
The witcher blocked it quickly, despite the little time he had to prepare for it. She was a clever girl, but he was an expert.
Brows knit together, he returned the swing and they both danced to the clunks and thuds of their weapons for a few seconds before he grabbed her wrist.
"Ah! What-" She whined, caught in his grip.
"What are those, Ciri?" He growled, although that was just his way of speaking, and she knew.
She had to look at her hand to know what he was talking about. Her skin was covered in thin, barely noticeable scratches.
“Got caught in thorn bush on my way here,” she replied, without batting an eye.
Luckily, not even picking up her scent or her speeding heartbeat helped him detect a lie.
She couldn’t just tell him that she had taking the longer way around the fortress to slack off before training and had encountered a cat.
She pulled her hand back under his narrow-eyed stare, and continued with the fight before he could think of another question for her.
------
Long after the sun had started its way down, as did the intensity of the training, the White Wolf decided that it was the moment to let his pup take a break.
As usual, the session ended by an Igni-casted fire, Ciri’s work. Geralt handed her some cooked chicken scraps to regain her strength, getting some for himself too.
Those late evening meals after training were a moment of leisure for them both.
They usually chatted about their day, at least about the part of it they spend separately, and then headed back to the fortress together.
But that day, she seemed eager to finish her food and leave.
“I’m so tired!” She complained, exaggerating a yawn and making the witcher roll his eyes.
“I’ll head back! You can stay here, don’t worry!” She was quick to announce, kissing his cheek goodbye and leaving before he could say a word.
Geralt didn’t wait for his medallion to start vibrating to worry.
He was too curious about her hurry but, luckily, he kept his head cool and came up with an idea.
“Hm. Okay.”
He let her leave as he finished his chicken by the fire- it wouldn’t be hard to follow her track even after a while.
The witcher tossed the chicken bones to the ground and put the fire out. Ciri had taken her rubbish with her, it seemed.
It took him less than a heartbeat to pick up her scent and know which way to go.
He wiped the chicken grease off his hands on his trousers, already stained from the training, and quickly went after Ciri.
Although he seemed stubborn about witchers not being able to feel, it was different when it came to Ciri. After all, even animals nurtured their offspring with care.
He was often told that he was too protective of a father, but he couldn’t really help it. Taking care of Ciri and raising her as his own daughter wasn’t just another test for him, but the most important he had ever taken.
And, being as inexpert as he was with teenagers, worrying about such little changes in her behavior was inevitable.
That’s probably why confusion made all his worries fade away as soon as she spotted her.
The witcher apprentice was crouched down by the side of the thin path leading to Kaer Morhen.
As soon as she heard him approaching –little did she know that her quick reaction had made him proud-, she shot up into a defensive pose.
She hadn’t gone through the mutations Geralt had, so it took her a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t dangerous in the dimmest light of the evening. Seconds that the witcher could spend noticing the little, white creature that had taken shelter behind Ciri.
“Fuck, Dad!” She groaned, clutching at her chest and huffing.
“What is that?” He inquired, raising his eyebrow at the critter, a very startled cat that hissed at him. Nothing new.
She let out a whine and crouched back down to pick it up, shushing it.
Geralt sighed and crossed his arms. Before he even started to lecture Ciri, she was already pouting a bit.
"Hey there, little one..." She tried to calm the cat down, petting it gently in her hold. It mewed and hissed at Geralt, but seemed to relax in Ciri's arms.
"I know, I know!" She sighed, looking up at Geralt. "I was lazying around and found him, I just couldn't resist! I know it's childish and you wouldn't approve!"
It was a well-known fact that cats hated witchers, but Geralt didn't hate them.
In fact, he felt a sting of... something in his chest everytime he crossed a cat on the path and it ran away from him like it had seen the most terrible of creatures.
"I left earlier because I wanted to give him some food," she admitted, looking at the ground.
The bones left from Ciri's chicken laid on the ground, thoroughly cleaned of its flesh by the cat.
He rubbed his temples, sighing heavily. He really had worried that much for something so childish...
A meow dragged him from his thoughts. Despite these animals' cunning and ungrateful fame, this one seemed to trust Ciri after she had helped it.
"What's up?" She asked the cat, almost expecting an answer. "You want to say 'hi' to Dad?"
"Uh, I don't think..."
Nevertheless, Ciri had already held the cat out closer to him before he could finish speaking, with the brightest of smiles.
Geralt focused on the animal, whose eyes practically matched his. Maybe it was their similarities what made cats wary of witchers.
The white cat looked up at Geralt with its ears pulled back, but he wasn't hissing anymore, nor unseathing his claws.
"Go on, pet him!" She squeaked, stroking its soft fur.
The witcher was hesitant, but he couldn't just say no to Ciri's face.
He reached out towards the cat, watching his reactions closely. Its fur wasn't standing, and it seemed rather calm, although it didn't take its eyes off him.
He wasn't wearing his leather gloves, so the cat could pick up his scent before he gently ran his hand along its back.
"Isn't he cute?" Ciri squealed and grinned wide.
Geralt petted him for a few seconds more, until he felt a smile creep upon his features, before pulling back.
That was the first time he had been so close to a feline and, of course, petted it. "Hm... He's cute. And very calm," he agreed. "But you know..."
"I know we can't keep him at Kaer Morhen! I know! But I couldn't resist!" She whined, dropping the cat back onto the ground before it got nervous.
The witcher watched it rub its head against Ciri's boot as a farwell and disappear into the bushes with a gentle smile.
He snorted the lightest chuckle and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's for his good, really. He wouldn't enjoy living with us."
"I know, Dad," she shrugged, pout melting into a pitiful smile.
"But... I never said you couldn't have friends outside Kaer Morhen.
They were already walking back to the fortress together, as usual.
"Really?" She gasped.
"As long as they don't take a minute off your training," he grinned slightly, amused.
"Ugh... Okay!" She laughed, playfully shoving him.
He chuckled and ruffled her hair, sighing contently right after.
He was supposed to lead Ciri through life, yet she still could teach him some things.
I love when people complain about Game!Ciri wearing heels and that it’s impractical during sword fights and running when in The Tower of the Swallow she effortlessly hack and slashed Rience’s fingers off while on ICE SKATES.
