A shrill scream echoes through the empty halls of Kaer Morhen, waking four witches and a band. They all rush to the source of the scream, a small blonde girl, looking even smaller wrapped in the furs provided for her, and she writhes in bed, her screams bouncing off the walls.
"Ciri, cub, wake up, you're safer." Geralt says, keeping his tone firm and gentle as he shakes her awake.
She bolts up, nearly hitting Geralt with her head, eyes wide and frantic. It takes her a moment to understand where she is, but the tension seeps out of her once she does. "Geralt… the castle..."
"I know, it's okay. You're safe now, and l've got you," he says, wrapping her in his arms as the other wolves settle down around the room - Vesemir sits in the armchair, Eskel at the foot of her bed, and Lambert by the dying fire.
Jaskier slides on the bed on her other side, taking her hand gently. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over her skin gently.
Ciri doesn't answer for a few moments, keeping her face buried in Geralt's shoulder, before she shakes her head.
"How about a song to help you fall back asleep?"
A soft noise and a nod.
"All right, let's get comfy then, yeah?" he says, locking eyes with Geralt, who smiles before shifting in his seat, helping Ciri adjust so she's nestled between the bard and the Witcher.
Jaskier smiles as the other wolves get comfortable too, lifting Ciri's hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.
She squeezes his hand lightly and moves to nuzzle into his chest, fist curled around his sleep shirt as she closes her eyes.
After she's stilled, Jaskier hums softly before he starts singing a song about mountaintops and dancing girls. His voice drifts through the room, the words echoing through the empty rooms.
When he finishes the song, Jaskier’s eyes drift around the room to find Vesemir leaned back in the chair, Lambert spread out on the floor, and Eskel leaning against the bedpost, all their eyes closed and breathing evened out.
"Put them right to sleep," Geralt whispers. giving him a small smile as he plays with Ciri’s hair as she sleeps.
"Works like a charm every time," he mumbles. leaning back and closing his eyes. "Sweet dreams, Geralt,” he whispers.
"Good night, lark," the Witcher responds, his voice soft.
