Ebs' musebox

The portal spits Yennefer out in Velen, her landing more unwieldy than usually, every movement hampered by urgency and worry. She sinks ankle deep into foul-smelling marsh, water and mud squelching about her boots as she staggers to keep her balance. The night is dark, the wild susurrus of leaves, insects and swamp-creatures surrounds her. The damp air smells of mold and death. The sorceress senses immediately that this is a dark place, every instinct screaming at her to leave, to flee.

But she pushes on in spite of that toward the ramshackle wooden huts ahead, adrenaline churning in her veins as she hurries, chasing after the trail she's been following despite the danger; Ciri's trail, her pell-mell escape from the Hunt through time and space. Yennefer can't even imagine giving up now, not when she's finally so close.

Her heart hammers in her chest, the foreboding sensation only intensifying the closer she gets, knowing some evil force governs this place. A dark presence suddenly crowds her mind as she reaches the seemingly abandoned homestead, a chiding, gleeful voice reverberating through her head; No, no– you do not belong here, enchantress! Naughty witchling!

Despair follows, as thick and cloying as the dark mists that begin to gather and swirl about. Yet ahead, Yennefer finally catches a glimpse of the slim figure of an ashen-haired girl staggering in exhaustion before collapsing.

"Ciri!" Yennefer barely recognizes her own voice, distorted by distress.

Out of the mists emerge hulking, monstrous things, misshapen and hideous– and emanating with powerful dark magic, something ancient and menacing. It has been a long time since Yennefer has felt true fear, but now it claws down her spine. She already knows she cannot defeat these creatures, especially on her own, momentarily wishing nothing so fervently than to have Geralt by her side just then.

Yen blinks out of harm's way as the hags descend, lightning at her fingertips. But as if anticipating her every move, the hags elude her counter-attacks even as their mocking, gleeful words resound in her head. Picking out secrets and old hurts to torment her with, they seek to discourage her, break her– delighting wickedly in the arrival of the Elder Blood they would soon feast upon.

At the thought of these creatures laying one finger on Ciri, hot fury replaces the despairing frustration that was threatening to take root in her. Yennefer's magic surges as she draws on Chaos, this swamp rife with it, feeling it burn through her body but she hardly registers the pain of it. She puts all her power into sending a crackling bolt of energy barreling into the largest of the hags, that hulking form bowed over Ciri's prone figure as if to pick the girl up. With a howl, the enormous witch stumbles back and her sisters join in her fury, but Yennefer is already gone.

Reappearing by Ciri, she crashes onto her knees to scoop the girl up in her arms, the golden light of her portal enveloping them and taking them far away from Crookbag Bog in the nick of time. On the other side, they tumble onto the hard floor, Yennefer still cradling Ciri's torso in her arms and shielding her from further harm. She doesn't even realize that in her haste to get them to safety, she'd teleported them into her house in Vengerberg. Her full attention is on the young woman in her arms, dirtied, bloodied and seemingly unconscious. But alive and beautiful.

"Ciri?" She lays a gentle hand on Ciri's cheek. "Ciri. Can you hear me?"

CANON POINT: Post-The Witcher 3, but earlier canon points also welcome.
NOTES: Book + game canon. Flexible gamestates re: the ending/important decisions ok. Netflix Witcher canon/castmates also welcome!