Cracks

Rating: Teen and up audience
Word count: 1084
Fandom: Wiedźmin/Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski
Ship: False Ciri/Emhyr var Emreis
Charaters: false Ciri, Emhyr var Emreis
No warning apply
Summary: The wedding of the emperor and queen of Cintra and what’s come after
also on AO3

 Sometimes he saw cracks in her strict demeanor.  Misspelled nilfgardiaan word, bad accent, a mistake in very elaborated court etiquette... as his future empress, she shouldn’t display such behavior. Privately... he found that endearing.  He found more and more things about her endearing. 

The day of the wedding, and her second coronation, this time as his empress, not the queen of Cintra, came very quickly, and Emhyr realized, he is stressed by the concept. Last time... he was young and foolish, and it didn’t end well. He hoped it would be better now. For his sake, and hers. He knew that up to this day many of his subject bet he wouldn’t marry Cirilla, as he called her, for lack of a better name. That they wondered why is he doing this. Sometimes he wondered this himself. But not today.

Today, as he realized with surprise, he was excited. He was full of anticipation. He walked to the altar eagerly, and stood there, waiting. The cathedral was full of people, and Cirilla had a long road ahead of her to walk down to the altar and no one walked her there. Emhyr looked in her direction. She was beautiful in a turquoise dress with the golden application, the colors of „her” kingdom, Cintra. And she was radiant with happiness. Emhyr wondered why she is so happy, why she insisted on the marriage with him, but he couldn’t find any reason. Probably she just had nowhere else to go, but this didn’t explain all of this. 

But it wasn’t a time and place for such deliberation. He smiled at her as she took her place by his side and the priest started the ceremony. It was quite long and included a long speech about peace and unity between their respective countries. There was little word about love, as their marriage wasn’t about it at all. Or maybe Cirilla thought otherwise? It might be, judging by her sight. 

Finally, they exchange the rings, and just like this, he was married again. Considering how his last marriage ended he wasn’t sure if it was truly the best day of Cirilla’s life, although she looked as if it was. Besides, he didn’t plan on that again. Not that the first time he did… He shook off this thought immediately. 

After the wedding vows there was a coronation. The priest put a heavy crown on his wife’s head, a crown she carried with grace, and the whole crowd kneeled. His empress. He felt unexpected warmth in his chest. 

He took her hand firmly and they walked from the cathedral to the open carriage, which drove them around the city, to greet the cheering crowds. 

“I see you’re happy now,” said Emhyr, when no one else could hear them. 

“Yes, I am,” Cirilla looked at him sheepishly. “Is that bad for a woman to be happy on her wedding day?”

“Not at all,” he responded. “I just hope u won’t be disappointed.”

After that, they rode back to the palace, where the wedding feast began. They took a place in the middle of the table, on the thrones with cintrian and nilfgardiaan crests. Cirilla was cheerful, although she didn’t speak much, as always, and she was perfectly composed all the time. Stella sat near them and looked at her with pride. 

The feast was to last long into the night, but they had other, not least important, matters to attend. Their wedding night. Emhyr realized he was scared of that. It was strange, he was a grown man after all, and not inexperienced. And yet… he was scared he would hurt Cirilla, and shatter her imagination about marriage. Although he was sure Stella prepared her for that… He looked at her furtively. She seemed to be so delicate. Even if this was untrue, she suffered a lot in her short life, and he didn’t want to add to that.

Soon after midnight, they were led to the bedchamber by an amused crowd. It seemed to be vulgar for Emhyr, but it was the tradition and allowed this following his advisers. He couldn’t be always so strict. 

Cirilla walked firmly, squeezing his hand. She threw him a shy look from time to time, and he welcomed them with a smile, to boost her confidence. 

The doors to the bedchamber were closed behind them, the guests went back to the hall to continue their party, and finally, they were alone. 

“You will have to help me with the dress, your majesty,” she said after a moment of silence. 

Emhyr approached her and stroked her cheek. 

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. And asked you not to call me that in private.”

“I’m not a child, Emhyr,” she said firmly. But she could be his daughter and it was hard to ignore. How hard it would be if there was a real Cirilla in her place? He couldn’t even imagine that. 

“So I would help you with a dress.” 

She was not a child. Not his child nor a child at all. She was a woman. He leaned over her and kissed her. His heart started to pound, so he had to calm himself and remind himself to take it slow. She was blushing hard, when he started, slowly, undressing her. And that was a challenge. The dress was elaborate, with many ribbons and fasteners. There was no way to take it off alone. Finally, the attire was lying on the floor in disrespect. She was now only in her undergarments, and she, instinctively, tried to cover herself up. Then she probably remind herself why she was there and stopped, sitting on the bed. Emhyr took off his doublet and trousers. Now they were only in their underwear.

He approached her but didn’t make any moves. 

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” she said, but she swallowed, stressed or maybe even scared. 

Emhyr once again strokes her face affectionately, to calm her down. She closed her eyes for a moment, cuddling into his hand. 

He was very gentle and careful, caressing her body, and kissing every inch of it. Cirilla act timidly at first but when she felt more confident, she reciprocated the caresses and even kissed him passionately. He took care so that it won’t be painful for her, and it wasn’t, even if there was some blood afterward. 

They fell asleep cuddled, Emhyr with his face in Cirilla’s hair, and he was happy, for once.