[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]
Third Person POV
Skellige.
...
...
The banquet continued, and King Bran was finally interacting with Madara and Ciri this time, while listening to funny stories about Eist with the two young ones during their time in Cintra, as well as the battles they had to fight.
"Haha, it certainly seems like you've been through a lot, and I'm glad my brother took part in many of those fights. He spoke very highly of you, boy. I didn't see him often due to our duties, but he used to write to me and talked about having met a special boy at the age of six... He had been reporting your adventures and achievements ever since." King Bran said, while Madara nodded.
He remembered very well how excited Eist was about him, always asking several questions whenever he saw him or even preparing for any action when at his side. Eist never treated him any differently.
It was a shame that Madara wasn't at sea at the time of the battle during Nilfgaard's invasion, not that he could've done much where he was supposed to be. But he certainly would have saved Eist if he'd had the chance, just like he also wished he could've saved many others.
Setting that aside, Madara's eyes had returned to the crowd, while Ciri kept laughing with King Bran and sharing some comments with Mousesack.
Madara began scanning around, searching among all the faces for the ones he wanted.
'Since I'm already keeping an eye on the large number of suspicious people here, investigating them wouldn't be hard.'
"Well, back to the main subject... you will have a few days to enjoy yourselves. I intend to hold the wedding in three days..." King Bran said.
"Wait, we don't want anything so extravagant. We've already planned to do something small, just having enough witnesses to officiate our union," Ciri interjected, while the man laughed.
"Princess Ciri, do you really think I'll sit back and not ensure an ideal wedding for Eist's stepdaughter, whom he cared for so dearly over the years? I won't leave it at that. You are my great-niece by extension, even if we are not blood relatives, and I will do something worthy for you both," he said.
"As for the cost, we can pay for anything, King Bran. You don't need to trouble yourself," Madara said, turning his attention back to the conversation.
He was filthy rich at this point and never really found it necessary to spend all his reserves, only accumulating more over the years. And all that money was within the scrolls he carried with him—he could pay for an extravagant wedding himself, but he also wanted something more discreet.
"Don't worry about it. I insist on doing this, even if it won't be as big as I originally imagined. I will still do this for my own sake." King Bran said in a serious tone, while Madara sighed.
"All right," he said finally, as the man smiled and Ciri turned to him.
"Well... you only get married once, right?" she said, jokingly, and Madara gave a small smile.
They stayed a little longer at the high table until they said their goodbyes to Bran and, along with Mousesack, moved to the lower tables, where Geralt, Yennefer, and all the others were.
"Well, you're already kind of drunk, Geralt... Where's your resistance, witcher?" the druid couldn't help but laugh upon seeing Geralt a little dizzy.
"I think I overdid it a bit," he looked at Mousesack and grumbled.
"He's the one who wanted to have a drinking contest with another man. That's what happens," Yennefer said mockingly, not finding it amusing at all. Ciri, however, found it funny.
"I had to defend your honor," Geralt said, while she rolled her eyes.
"As if I would dance with someone else..." she muttered.
Despite the issues Yennefer and Geralt were having between them, the table still seemed quite lively, as Dandelion began to sing, improvising along with the rhythm of the local bards, trying to create something different that matched the mood.
Zoltan was already drunk, laughing loudly and even looking for someone to challenge in a drinking match.
Everything seemed calm, until Yennefer narrowed her eyes upon seeing a woman approach.
It was none other than a sorceress who had entered a few moments earlier.
Fringilla Vigo.
She approached the table and stood before them.
"Yennefer..." she said.
"Fringilla, I'm surprised to see you here," she replied, breaking eye contact with the sorceress and staring at Madara with hawk-like eyes.
"So am I," she responded with some interest, opening a small seductive smile. "Just imagine, there I was, in Skellige, enjoying one of my cabins, when I saw news of a rather peculiar wedding," she said, now looking at Ciri too. Who returned a rather fierce glare at the woman, while she seemed to find it amusing—but her expression quickly changed when she looked back at the young man.
Fringilla stared at Madara and saw cold eyes that seemed to warn her not to try anything foolish there. It was a threat spoken only through Madara's black gaze.
"I was very surprised when I heard that the princess of Cintra was marrying a man everyone had been looking for for years. It's quite a peculiar union," she said cautiously, revealing only public information at that point.
"Does that bother you?" Madara was the one to speak, not stopping his stare at the sorceress. Seeing his eyes grow even colder, she stepped back slightly.
"Not at all. I'm just surprised. No offense meant," she murmured carefully.
Madara just stared at her for a few more seconds, but remained silent. The woman, awkwardly, turned back to her table, making a half-turn, even though she seemed like she wanted to say more—or perhaps even mock Yennefer, as the sorceress herself expected, since Fringilla Vigo had quite the sharp tongue.
"Have I mentioned I don't like that woman?" Ciri asked beside him, with a good-humored chuckle. Despite that, she wouldn't let it ruin her night.
And Ciri noticed something the next moment, catching some movement up on the ceiling, then looking straight at Madara right after, with a curious gleam.
"When did you put your clones up there?" she asked, surprised, knowing that Madara had been with her the whole time—except for a few brief moments. She hadn't seen him placing any clones in the middle of the party.
"As soon as we left King Bran's table, I placed two clones to camouflage themselves along the ceiling and look for different people to interrogate," Madara said, while Ciri nodded in understanding.
In the end, they kept enjoying themselves without leaving that table for the rest of the night. The laughter and drinks intensified, and the banquet stretched on into the night. As people started getting drunk, fights broke out, along with card games and drinking bets.
Dandelion got himself into a fight at some point during the night while trying to sit with a woman who, they later found out, was married. Her husband didn't like it one bit, and the man, full of rage, tried to punch the bard — before Madara stepped in front.
"Isn't this the kid they say is a good warrior? He seems to have a solid build, but let's see how he handles our fists," they said while drunk, mocking Madara, believing their big arms were the definition of strength. Compared to them, Madara didn't look the part.
As soon as they tried to attack him, things didn't go well for them. Both collapsed unconscious in an instant, with Dandelion thanking Madara for saving him from a beating.
At the same time, mugs were flying across the hall, while Madara effortlessly caught anything that came near him.
"Geralt's going to get into another fight," Ciri and Zoltan muttered, though the latter found it hilarious, trading punches with another man. The party had turned into chaos.
Cerys started getting drunk and began openly flirting with Madara, and Ciri felt threatened by her trying to get close to him—especially after receiving Madara's memories, which constantly involved moments like these.
She began saying she'd be his second wife — or even a lover — to Ciri's dismay. While her father smacked her on the head, saying she was embarrassing them.
Madara, of course, didn't take any of it seriously. He didn't even bother replying, focusing on other parts of the party.
He saw Ciri looking a little uncomfortable and leaned close to her ear.
"Want to leave?" he asked, and she nodded.
"We can enjoy the rest of the night somewhere else, can't we?" she murmured, and he agreed, giving a sideways glance to Yennefer, his eyes clearly showing his intentions.
She simply nodded, unable to do anything about it.
Before anyone noticed, Ciri and Madara had vanished like ghosts, thanks to the ninja's abilities, while she laughed, being carried in his arms.
Madara ran along the castle walls, looking for their room — something he quickly discovered after gathering information from some servants with his Sharingan, following the directions to the indicated window.
They entered a room with a large, luxurious, neatly made bed, with no visible belongings, indicating it had been reserved for them.
"How about helping me out of this dress?" Ciri said, biting her lip with a mischievous smile, very aroused and slightly drunk.
Madara approached her, reached for the laces at the back of the dress, and began to loosen them. As he did so, he gently breathed in her scent and left kisses along her neck and behind her ear, making Ciri moan as her body shivered.
"Can I just say you look beautiful and smell amazing?" he said as she laughed, feeling the heat of his mouth near her ear.
She was smiling as the fabric started to slip down her body, revealing the nude curves of a beautiful woman in her prime, with only her necklace remaining on her.
She turned to him, kissed him deeply, and began undressing him, undoing the knots. Madara became fully naked and gently laid her on the bed, settling over her.
"Touch me... Make me yours," Ciri whispered with a voice full of desire, while Madara looked at her intensely.
He kissed her skin, his lips trailing from her neck to her breasts, her stomach, then down below, as she began to let out soft sighs.
"Madara..." she moaned weakly, her voice filled with emotion as he brought her great pleasure.
They spent the rest of the night in that room, sharing the heat of their bodies, their moans full of love.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle, some of Madara's clones stood before a group of frightened men as their eyes transformed into the Sharingan.
Being made of wood, the clones began to subdue their victims and place them under genjutsu, initiating a search for information.
He uncovered many Vilgefortz sympathizers—men working for him, even some who had previously refused the sorcerer's offers.
However, there was no concrete information about Vilgefortz's hideout, only names of contacts. The old mage was being extremely cautious and had revealed his location to none of them.
But then there was someone interesting. Madara silently landed in a room, seeing a woman standing at its center. That wing of the castle wasn't as luxurious as the rest, but it clearly belonged to someone of noble status.
"You came quickly," she said suddenly, without turning around, while Madara raised an eyebrow. She seemed to have some sensory skill and was already expecting him.
"You gave me that letter. I'd like to understand it," Madara said calmly, as the woman began to turn, a smile forming on her lips.
She was beautiful, with a noble and reserved appearance. She carried herself with elegance, but there was something strange about her.
She wasn't human—she could have fooled even Geralt at the banquet, but Madara was different, and he had sensed it with just one glance.
"Obviously, because we share a common enemy. Madara Uchiha...," she said calmly.
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