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sapphicshitandsuch · 5 months ago

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3 and 15 :)

Yennefer meandered rather slowly through the corridors of Aretuza, her footsteps echoing against the stone floors. Her reappearance after Sodden had made for a strange day of both warm welcomes and hostile, suspicious glances, and as the sun set for the evening, she yearned for the solitude she would need to recenter herself.

Especially after her reunion with Tissaia. The memory of the morning’s events replayed in her mind, each detail burned into her brain. She had expected a measured, distant reception from the Rectoress, perhaps a few words of acknowledgment, maybe even a brief inquiry into her well-being.

But what she received instead had been far more overwhelming.

Tissaia had embraced her, taking her by complete surprise at the sheer emotion of the gesture. The sincerity in her reaction, the intensity that shone brilliantly in those sapphire eyes undid something tightly wound within her.

And then the words were exchanged – she had been so open and vulnerable in a way that Yennefer had rarely known her to be. It was as though a wall had come down, revealing a side of Tissaia that Yennefer had only ever caught glimpses of in fleeting moments.

She had thought her feelings for the woman to be mere relics of her school days, when she had admired the Rectoress from a distance, mistaking her affections for respect. But those feelings had been reignited with a force that was impossible to ignore in the events leading up to Sodden. Like her own flames, those events had burned away any pretense Yennefer might have held about the nature of her emotions. She cared for Tissaia in a way that went far beyond admiration.

And now, after that morning’s interaction, it felt as though those emotions were threatening to spill over entirely. The thought of Tissaia – of how easily she had undone Yennefer’s defenses with a single hug – left her feeling horribly vulnerable. It was all almost too much to process.

Even now, hours later, Yennefer shook her head, trying to clear the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She needed a moment to breathe and sort through the tumultuous feelings that had resurfaced with such force. Decompressing in the bathing pool seemed to be her most appealing option. It was a luxury she had scarcely taken advantage of as a student, having always been too self-conscious of her deformities to fully enjoy the experience. The thought of being so exposed to the gazes of others had always outweighed any relaxation the water might have provided.

Upon entering the room, Yennefer’s senses were immediately greeted by the enchanting warmth and tranquility of the room. The steam that rose from the water was infused with scents of lavender and jasmine, filling her lungs and instilling an instantaneous sense of calm. But the moment was short-lived as she caught a glimpse of the neatly folded robe on the far ledge of the pool, and a quick glance at the water told her she was not alone.

There sat Tissaia, submerged to her shoulders with her eyes closed, head resting back against the ledge. She appeared more serene and unguarded than Yennefer could ever recall seeing her. Silently, Yennefer turned on her heel, aiming to make a quick escape before the other woman noticed her presence. She hadn’t taken more than two steps towards the door before Tissaia’s voice broke the silence. "Don't leave on my account, Yennefer. The water really is quite divine."

Yennefer’s heart jumped to her throat at Tissaia’s invitation. She swallowed, trying to maintain her composure, as though one of her oldest fantasies wasn’t playing out in front of her very eyes. Free from the constraints of its usual elaborate chignon, her chestnut hair was loose, damp, and slicked back behind her bare shoulders. The older woman was clearly naked beneath the water’s surface, and Yennefer was glad that her eyes were still closed so she couldn’t see the way violet eyes lingered perhaps just a little too long.

“No, ah... Sorry. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here at this hour.” Yennefer muttered awkwardly, trying to muster her usual confidence as she fumbled for a response. Despite her refusal, Yennefer could not break her gaze of the skin that was exposed—the elegant curve of her neck that swooped to meet her shoulders, the hollow dip at the base of her neck, and delicate collarbones, all glistening with drops of water.

"Nonsense. I insist." Tissaia opened her eyes now, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Unless you fear my presence will be too distracting?”

“Do not flatter yourself, Rectoress, I believe I can manage.” Yennefer scoffed dryly in response, perturbed by the trace of amusement in Tissaia’s voice. Her trance was broken as her eyes snapped away, heat rising to her cheeks at the prospect of having been caught in her staring. Distracting – what in the world had she meant by that? Perhaps she had imagined it, but there seemed to be a challenge hidden in Tissaia’s response. And Yennefer was never one to back down from a challenge. “I simply did not wish to intrude on your solitude. But if you insist. You may be the distraction I needed after today’s chaos,”

Feeling self-conscious for the first time in ages, Yennefer hesitantly approached the water’s edge, feeling the weight of Tissaia’s gaze intensely. As if she had sensed her discomfort, Tissaia wordlessly turned her back, granting Yennefer a moment of privacy. Grateful for the gesture, Yennefer quickly slipped out of her gown, the cool air making her shiver as she swiftly slid into the pool. She settled across from Tissaia with a soft sigh, the initial awkwardness dissipating with the soothing warmth of the mineral-enriched water. “I must admit, you’re right. This is a rather nice reprieve from the vultures that have been circling me all day.”

“Yes, it seems your reappearance has caused quite the stir." Tissaia chuckled softly as she began wading towards her. Yennefer could feel her pulse rising with anxious exhilaration the closer she got, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Tissaia's approaching form. As Tissaia drew nearer, her gaze fixated on a mild scratch marring Yennefer's shoulder, one the younger woman couldn’t even recall obtaining. The sight of it seemed to trouble her, and silently, tentatively, she reached out her hand. Yennefer's breath hitched as Tissaia's fingers lightly brushed against around the reddened skin. She muttered a soft incantation, watching with satisfaction as the edges of the cut pulled together. But even after the scratch had vanished, she did not remove her hand, fingers gently trailing across Yennefer’s shoulder and down her arm. The sensation sending shivers down Yennefer’s spine, and she felt an odd mix of relief and longing when Tissaia finally removed her hand, her touch leaving a lingering warmth. Tissaia's proximity and the ambiguity of her gestures was both comforting and maddening.

"I know I’m repeating myself, but I am profoundly glad to see you alive and relatively unharmed," Tissaia said, her voice soft and filled with an emotion Yennefer couldn’t quite place. "I never thought I would see you again."

Yennefer's heart clenched at the sincerity in Tissaia's words, the vulnerability she was displaying catching her off guard. She struggled to find her voice in the face of such an intimate confession. "I'm ... sorry.”

"Whatever for?” Tissaia's eyes softened, and a smile pulled at the corners of her lips again. One of her hands came forward to brush some stray curls out of the younger woman’s face. Yennefer cursed the way that her breath hitched as Tissaia’s fingers combed through her scalp and brushed against the shell of her ear. She was certainly close, but was Tissaia leaning in slightly closer than was normal? Did her eyes linger just a fraction longer on Yennefer’s lips? Was it her imagination, or did Tissaia’s hands linger a moment longer than necessary? Every detail was relentlessly analyzed and dissected for hidden intent.

“You’ve endured ordeals that few could withstand since Sodden. My girl, your strength and resilience never cease to amaze me."

The younger woman swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat, choosing instead to focus on the only other thing she could, which was the woman in front of her. Had she ever seen the woman with her hair down? She didn’t think so; it was a stunning sight to behold. She found it mesmerizing how perfectly it seemed to frame the sharp features of her face. She watched as one of her eyebrows twitched upward and realized with muted dismay that she had once again been caught staring.

"I’ve never seen your hair down.” She responded much more coolly than she should have been able to manage, opting to change to subject to something lighter. “Tell me, are you giving your scalp a break, or did you just lose all your hairpins?”

"Contrary to popular belief, my hair is not glued permanently into place. It likes to breathe every now and then." Tissaia’s features twitched with amusement, her words carrying an undercurrent of warmth with her retort.

“Well, it suits you.” Yennefer assures, lips curling ever so slightly. Then she chanced, “I can see why you keep it so firmly contained when you teach. I wouldn’t have learned a thing during your lessons. It’s quite the distraction.”

Before Tissaia could respond, the sound of laughter and approaching footsteps echoed from the entryway, and Sabrina entered, followed closely by Triss.

Yennefer instinctively took a step back, her smile tightening as she tried to steady her nerves. Objectively, there was nothing unbefitting about the way they had been positioned when the others entered. But the way Tissaia’s gaze seemed to ignite her skin – even more than the warmth of the water – made their proximity feel far less innocent.

"Yennefer, welcome back!" Triss called out cheerfully, beaming brightly as she strode toward them.

As Triss perched on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water, Sabrina joined them in the pool, greeting the both of them with a grin. Tissaia’s foot brushed against Yennefer’s under the water as she shifted out of Sabrina’s way, the touch light and seemingly accidental. But Yennefer's heart skipped a beat, and she abruptly pulled her foot back and put a few more inches between them.

Sabrina stretched out with a groan of delight. "This feels utterly divine."

Yennefer nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt a foot graze the side of her thigh. Her eyes darted to Tissaia.

“Indeed it does.” The Rectoress responded with a thoughtful hum. Her expression remained neutral, but Yennefer caught the flash of amusement in her eyes, and her mind reeled. Had she done that on purpose? Gods, did Tissaia know what she was doing to her?

"However, loathe as I am to leave, I have a few matters that require my attention this evening." Tissaia declared, with finality, giving Yennefer a strange jolt of both relief and disappointment. “Enjoy your evening, ladies.”

All three of the younger mages bid her a good night in return, and Tissaia regarded each of them with a brief nod of her head, though her gaze lingered just a little longer on Yennefer before she rose. The raven-haired woman watched intently as Tissaia gracefully stepped out of the pool. Unable to look away, violet eyes traced every movement as the droplets of water cascaded down her back. Her gaze traveled slowly up Tissaia’s body, from her ankles, past her toned calves, creeping up the backs of lean thighs until Tissaia pulled her robe on with practiced elegance, effectively covering the rest of Yennefer’s view.

As the Rectoress turned to leave, she paused, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint as blue eyes met violet one last time. "And Yennefer," She purred, her voice infused with an unmistakable hint of flirtation, "I hope you find tonight’s distractions to be just what you need."

#i got a little carried away #this was only supposed to be 500 words #yennaia #oneshot #fanfic #yennefer of vengerburg #tissaia de vries

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lodgeofeilhart · 1 year ago

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The moment she knew she had fucked up!

#tissaia de vries #the witcher tissaia #tissaia #rectoress of aretuza #myanna buring #archmistress of magic #tissaia my love #tissaia my wife

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nnightskiess · 7 months ago

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everytime you leave, part six

₊° - 𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

everytime you leave, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

Your new garments itched and frustration grew as you continued to adjust the blue linen dress each time it slipped off your shoulders. It seemed to be a hand-me-down since the other girls didn’t disappear in the size of their clothing. Perhaps they’d tailor it to your figure soon, but you wouldn’t put it past these people that such things would be seen as rewards for good behaviour, and you weren’t quite sure if you were going to play along to their rules just yet. You huffed as you adjusted the dress around you. At least it served as a task to keep you occupied as you waited for Aretuza’s rectoress, who had sent one of the other mages to fetch you and wake you from your slumber after the events of last night. Your eyes darted around her office, taking in all the little bits and bops that lined the walls and filled the shelves. You’d heard of mages from the folk tales. But people who could bend nature, control the mind and the senses and be as valuable as two hundred swordsmen, could only be seen as an abomination. Something not meant to exist... a statement you’d started to see reason in after what had happened to you. It’s what you’d been told your entire life. You were sure it had lots to do with how your region had fallen victim to an invasion and how the promised help of a mage had come too late. You wondered if that mage was long gone, or still walking among the vast lands of the Continent, but going by how old they could get, you suspected the latter.

“To be a mage is a solitary life. But, to serve the Continent, is one of the greatest honours there is.” Her voice appeared from behind you as you watched her walk in with all her poise before she took a seat behind her desk, opposite you. “All girls here have been plucked from their old lives the second their conduit moment caused a ripple, a ripple I was able to sense here. Yours was more than a ripple. It was a wave big enough to flush away at least half of Skellige.” She knitted her fingers together and watched you intently, trying to gauge the impact of her words, “The use of Chaos always has consequences, but you have had to give a great sacrifice in order to be reborn. For that, I apologise.”

You felt your eyes burn as soon as she made you think of it again. You hated how the silent tears fell and left a taste of salt on your lips as they tickled down your skin. You didn’t want to show weakness or give her the satisfaction that you were alone, completely cut off, and truly nowhere without her, seeing as she’d saved you. But something was different. She was genuine, this time. Her kindness was a stark contrast to her harsh words the day she'd found you, but, ashamedly so, you realised that in your vulnerable state, you lapped her apology up and tried your best to help it mend some of the heartache. It could not, however.

She continued, “My promise will stand until the day I die, or until the day you betray me— I will guide you to control your Chaos, to never have to live another day in fear of losing it ever again.”

You quickly wiped at your cheeks, “I don’t want to use my magic if this is the other side of it.”

Tissaia smiled sympathetically, “It feels like a curse now, but trust me, you’ll want nothing more once you learn the depths of your capabilities. It can heal as much as it can cause destruction, it all depends on the language you’ll let it speak with.” She tilted her head, seeming to have a hard time stopping herself from getting lost in her thoughts, “Remember, you survived fire magic. No young mage ever has, let alone as their conduit moment.”

It hurt to sense her underlying praise at your actions, for those same actions had caused the demise of your loved ones as well. It fleetingly made you think of Yennefer, who'd had the same reaction, even if she didn't know what you'd done.

Tissaia stood up and walked around the desk, approaching you, “Which is why I want to press once more, that it is of utter importance to keep that knowledge between the two of us. We do not speak of it outside of this room, we do not think of it during the quiet hours of the night, we do not dwell on it during hard times, we do not let others in on it during a moment of weakness.”

“You want me to brush aside the fact I am a mass murderer? To live as if none of this is happening? You took me, you took everything from me!” It was piteous to blame her too, but it was better than taking all of the blame yourself and living with that guilt.

Tissaia leaned forward, her hand tightly cupping your chin, “You lost control of a power you were unaware you had, you cannot blame yourself for that.”

You hated how she was holding you in place, how she squeezed your chin when you tried to look away, how she was pulling your strings like a puppeteer.

“Look at me. Don’t you dare look away.”

With tears prickling your eyes, both from hatred and sorrow, you were left with no other choice as you watched the white of Tissaia’s eyes go from a salmony, irritated pink, to a deep and disturbing shade of red within a matter of seconds. Your own eyes itched and they darkened in a blur, but you held off on brushing away that new set of tears, not wanting to give in to your weakness. Not in front of her.

Finally, Tissaia nodded to herself and retreated, using her velvety maroon handkerchief to wipe at her eyes as she sat back down. As her back was turned to you, you quickly wiped away the irritating set of tears, only to hitch a breath as the back of your hand was smeared with a red substance… blood. Your blood.

“Very well-” Tissaia cleared her throat, her chest heaving. She took a deep breath in, then turned around. Her eyes turned to slits as she watched you examine your hand like you were some tropical bird, gazing at your reaction and examining all your little tells. The thick streak of blood dropped down your chin and onto your garment. The droplets that fell stood in stark contrast with the blue of your dress.

You dialled down your panic by swallowing hard, “What did you do to me?!”

She smiled gently at your, albeit panicked, curiosity, “I just saw all of you—your fears, the memories plaguing you both good and bad, your abilities and the extent of your control.”

Irked at the crossed boundary and wanting nothing but to wipe the smile off her face, you snarled, “And? Liked what you saw?”

The ghost of a smirk was trying to pull at her lips, entertained by your bark. This only proved her once again, that one’s chaos and capabilities always mirrored one’s true core. You'd lost control, because you'd never really had it in the first place.

“There’s lots of work to do.” She grabbed a small, thin and long candle in its holder and shoved it towards you across her desk. Its tiny flame danced in front of you as if to taunt you, “In order to gain complete control, we need to conquer your deepest fears first. Your fear of fire.” Tissaia addressed, watching you intently to gauge your reaction as you stared at the candle, seeing if it would react to you already.

Immediately, you shook your head, “No- I’m not doing this.”

“Sit… down.” Tissaia ordered quietly but venomously, as you were halfway into getting out of your chair, “Or do you want to blow up all your classmates during your first lesson here as well?”

She knew she was testing your patience, pushing all your buttons, but she had to insert her dominance over you before it was too late, like one would do with a stubborn cow in your village. It made you feel even more little.

You stood there, rage filling your chest at the woman who’d ruined your life and taken you to this hell. More and more you wished you’d died with your family. “No! Not before you answer my questions.”

Tissaia raised an eyebrow at your ultimatum, but liked the fiery gut you had that it took to stand your ground. She dipped her head— a confirmation for you to proceed. It was a fair request after the past few hours, and if she could persuade you this way, well, then she'd give in a little.

“You say that I am a hitch in the balance of magic… then why are you helping me? Won’t you get in danger for helping me if they find out? Are you not afraid of me ruining things? Or will you drop me the minute I do? You’ve said it yourself, I’m a danger, so why risk keeping me here when I am constantly one moment away from losing myself? What use am I to you to you here? And what’s in it for me?”

Tissaia listened to the questions you shot her way— reasonable ones, clever ones, some she could answer, others she wouldn’t… and then that last, cunning one, showing her you already belonged here more than you realised.

“You may not trust me, and I understand the reason behind your uneasiness, but things will make sense one day. I am not truly as wicked as you see me now. I am willing to give you an honest and sincere chance to shape your rebirth and help you reach the full potential I just saw in you. To make sure you will never have to lose control again. So, take it.” She said it in a way that left no room for you to disagree. You tilted your head, not liking one bit how she hadn’t really answered any of your questions with a direct reply and how it had made another string of questions enter your mind.

It seems she sensed so, as she spoke, “It appears I need to tell you a little about our Brotherhood first. About Aretuza, the way of our Chaos, what it means to be a mage and how we serve as a balance in the Continent to make sure there’s peace and prosperity. How we use negativity only to stop the scales from tipping over to one side, to make sure there’s a little shade to unbearably bright days. Your distrust is valid, given the things you have gone through in the past few hours, but perhaps it can also be blamed on the unknown.” She sat back, testing the waters, “It's the uncertainty that accompanies fear like a loyal friend. Your fears are valid. You left your home, your familiarities, were placed here in the birthplace of the very things you are currently afraid of… Chaos, order, and fire.” Her eyes darted back to the tiny flame between the two of you, “I promise you that I would not have taken you here if I didn’t truly have to. Think about it, the entire village... burned to a crisp, but you sitting at the centre as proof of the destruction? Imagine what they would have done to you? And if they hadn’t found you, how would you have survived? With your wounds? Without a roof, without food… without a guardian?” She painted the picture for you and watched the bitterness in your eyes that signalled you still hadn’t warmed up to her, “I do not say this to spite you, to try and manipulate you to see reason in my explanation. I say this so that you will eventually see that you are here because your Chaos is needed. Hate me all you want, resent me, call me names, curse this place, but know that being here will help you more than it will harm you.” She gave you a moment, “But first, you will need to learn control.” She paused for a beat, “Are you ready now?”

There was truth in her words. They would have hung you if they so much as suspected you had been to blame. And if you’d managed to hide, you would’ve died from your injuries. The phantom feeling of shivers and torturous pain still clung to your body like an uncomfortable wet blanket, even if you were taking sips of the effective burn elixirs every few hours. You never wanted to be the cause of destruction again, you never again wanted to know what it would feel like to lose the one thing you loved in the entire Continent by your own actions. So, you answered with a curt nod.

Tissaia didn’t gloat and you were grateful for it. It was time to finally introduce you to her world. Your world.

“When in full control of our Chaos, the borders of our magic are vast. From elemental magic to using elixirs and spells. What all of them have in common, is that they won’t work if you don’t know your Chaos. If you don’t learn its language, its dances, what angers or weakens it. Though, I’d say, you have gained quite some knowledge regarding the last two recently. You lost all sense of your Chaos as soon as your loved ones were threatened. That is your pitfall— to link your emotions to your Chaos. It has left you rattled, but you cannot dwell on that feeling. I want you to challenge yourself. Find the borders of your tipping points again, but don’t give in to them. Stand above the emotions currently clouding your mind.”

You looked at her, intrigue now written across your face at how something you didn’t even know you had inside you, could be so aligned with what you’d valued most in your life, something you'd also always struggled with. Looking at it now, it started to dawn on you that each time you’d gotten in trouble in your life, it had started with your emotions being out of control. It had always affected you more than it should have. You absorbed emotions like a sponge, somehow refusing to let go of them even if you could feel it pull you down further and further. And it had always resulted in your days turning even more sour when things would happen. The beetroots you’d take home would go from perfect to rotten on your walk home, the bucket of the well would always get stuck while you used it, water would turn brown in your cup and little gashes on your hands from working on the fields would reopen and refuse to heal. All these little things. Then you remembered the bigger things... the wheels of your family's wooden cart breaking only ever when you used it to transport goods, the clasps of the horses in front of your cart suddenly snapping, the crops on your side of the field never big enough to harvest, leaving your family with so much less to sell. You dared to wonder if it had anything to do with your sense of Chaos. But could those incidents really be connected when they were deemed extremely innocent compared to the fire that had consumed you?

“I am not asking you to use fire magic.” Tissaia’s voice brought you back, as if she'd read your mind, “I am simply asking you to learn to control it. It might sound similar, but it isn’t. Each mage has a type of Chaos they find themselves more drawn to, it is chosen for you and cannot be hand-picked by preference, It so seems your Chaos has chosen the darker side of contributing to the Continent's balance. Be the boss of it, but don’t use it. Let it dance to your rhythm. Overpower it. Your Chaos is stronger than it all because Chaos creates fire.” She continued, sensing she had your attention, “I want you to stare into the flame. Each time you feel that it wants to latch onto you, you reset your focus. Each time your hands warm up from the fire it's vacuuming, you reset your focus. Each time your mind wanders to what hurts you, you think of something else. Be the one to control it, instead of the other way around. But whatever you do, you do not set your eyes off the candle.”

You nodded slowly, eyes flashing between Tissaia and the candle. You shifted in your seat, hands tightly clutched together, hoping that the harder you squeezed, the more difficult it was for the fire to find the tiniest bit of space to develop.

The flame flickered naturally, leaving a tiny cloudy string of smoke to travel upwards until it disappeared into the air.

“Don’t be frightened, child. Your Chaos will listen to you if you talk to it. Feel it prickle beneath your skin, hear the ring in your ears. Feel what it does to your body. It will feel uncomfortable and all-consuming at first, but you will learn to appreciate its powerful presence.”

Tissaia’s voice drowned out in the background as you kept your eyes locked on the candle in front of you. It whipped to the right sharply, then to the left, then dimmed slightly before you felt the tips of your fingers start to heat up. Tissaia noticed the sudden panic in your face.

“Do not keep your eyes off it.” She demanded, waiting a few seconds for you to regain the upper hand, “Do not let fear win. Tell your Chaos what it should do… to keep the flame swaying gently.”

“How?!” You muttered softly, squeezing your hands into fists and feeling your nails press crescent moons in your hands.

“Only you know how to communicate with your Chaos. You are Chaos. Do not be afraid of yourself.”

The flame went out, leaving a string of smoke to swirl into the air. You gasped, afraid of where it had gone to seek its refuge now after you had denied it. Still, you kept your gaze locked onto the candle, too frightened that you’d see the fire appear in your hands if you looked down.

Focus. Deep breaths. Feel the prickling, the rapid beating of your heart in your throat, the slow headache coming up between your eyebrows, the clenching of the muscles. Conquer it, tell it what to do.

It was as if you could hear Tissaia's voice echo through your mind. It was silent for a long while, and before Tissaia could change her plan of approach, the flame reappeared, lighting with a sizzle, flickering all ways until it finally evened out to its normal sway. You didn’t dare to take your eyes off it, afraid it would run off again without you telling it to, but Tissaia blew it out with a puff of air.

She didn’t say anything for a while as she watched you eye your hands in fear.

“Good.”

“But I let it escape.”

“No. You told your Chaos to latch onto the next best thing to find balance— the air around us.”

“I blew it out?”

Tissaia nodded, solemnly, “Then you told it to reappear. It listened to you. You told your Chaos to not let the flame get out of control, so your Chaos latched onto the element of air instead, using it to blow it out.” She explained the physics behind your subconscious actions, but before you could be impressed with yourself, she crushed your temporary relief and pride, “It was good, but not good enough. It is a start. You’ve only been here for a day. With proper training and determination, you won’t recognise the girl you once were in a few years time.”

“I don’t want to forget who I was.” Your voice was quiet, low, and Tissaia almost let her expression soften at the fear hidden between the lines.

“You won’t have to, not unless you let Chaos consume you, or let it talk for you instead of being the one to make it talk. Magic is a tricky thing, but so is living with power. For today, this is enough. You need to rest. We shall break fast in the centre hall soon.” She noticed the sullen look in your eyes, the bags underneath them, the colour that had drained from your face. You’d used your Chaos enough during the past few days. It was time to recharge now.

Her look made it clear that this lesson or test, or whatever it had been, was over.

“Now, one more thing— you do not lie to me again, not even to take the fall for someone else, because I will know when you do.” Tissaia watched as you widened your eyes at the revelation, hinting at how you'd taken the blame for Yennefer the night before.

Her eyes on you made you uneasy, especially because she looked at you in a way she hadn't done before. She tried to funnel through your thoughts, all the way to your core, to where Chaos was known to have its roots. However hard Tissaia tried, she could not decipher how two of her newest students had managed to combine their Chaos together, and what had spurred it on. It was as if you had managed to seal off your thoughts before even knowing how to. Granted, she had just told you to lock away your emotions to control your Chaos. It reminded her, “And stay in control of your Chaos. Don’t let anyone else attach to yours because then, having to control it, will be a much greater challenge, as you have seen when you tore up that room together.”

Tissaia stood up, posture straight as she looked down at you, watching how what she had just unveiled hit you.

“Anything said and done in this room, stays between these walls. Just as much as anything that you say to me, will remain for my ears only. Remember, I will know when you break your promise.”

"And do not forget," she took in a deep breath, "-you've already shown great control once, or the incident would have killed you along with it, no doubt. You emit as much as you can draw. Meaning you controlled the fire that you think was your defeat."

With a look of finality, she practically made you rise out of your seat. You looked over your shoulder before exiting her office and watched how a single bloody tear fell out of her eye.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

For a place that was meant to become your new home, it sure felt hostile the second you walked up to the central hall. You had followed the cacophony of whispers, cutlery touching plates, soft music and the occasional giggle. You stood back, shielded by the curtains of the see-through alcove to watch the T-shaped room before daring to enter it. The light fell through the tall stained-glass windows which almost reached the tops of the columns that supported the ceiling. The ceiling was so high it was difficult for your eyes to make out the frescoes decorating it, but they took in the mainly nude statues nonetheless. It looked warm in there, but you still felt the slight drought send a shiver up your spine. There were rows upon rows of tables, but only the first few rows were occupied, and not even fully. On your left, girls clad in the same horrid garments as yourself sat behind plates, quietly taking bites of their food. Your eyes then raked further up ahead, where a longer table stood, occupied by women wearing fancy dresses and hairpieces— your teachers, you presumed, as you saw Tissaia de Vries among them.

Chandeliers hung above their heads every few meters, lighting the room in a warm orange glow. Velvety cloths decorated the tables and the cups and plates shone even brighter than should be possible, but perhaps that had come forth from magic as well. It was then that the intense smell of freshly prepared food wafted into your nostrils. It smelt so rich, so not like the stale and common food you'd eaten year in and year out.

For a room so warmly decorated, it sure felt ice cold the second you stepped into the hall, having let your gurgling stomach win the fight.

The hall went quiet, and you wanted to run out again. What were you supposed to do now? Where would you sit? Would there be a plate waiting for you or did you have to ask for one? And who did you have to ask? Were you supposed to say something? Introduce yourself while ignoring the icy stares and curious looks?

You didn't want to look across the room and meet all those eyes while doing so, but you had to if you wanted to know what to do next. Your gaze gravitated towards the right, where it met violet eyes already boring into yours.

Yennefer sat with two other girls, hunched over her plate and quickly averting her gaze when she realised you were looking at her. You got the message that went behind that gesture loud and clear and decided to sit on the other side of the hall from her, at a table behind a gossiping flock of girls. You hoped you could disappear behind them, since they seemed so busy, but they turned to face you the second you sat down, and a plate of food was put in front of you as soon as you did. A cupbearer was filling your glass before you could even blink. It overwhelmed you. It all did. You weren't used to... whatever weird treatment this was. How could this place and these people make you feel so low while treating you like you were royalty?

Two girls even went as far as to pick up their plates and sit beside you, but as soon as you saw the look in their eyes, you knew they had only done so because you were the new and shiny toy.

"We're Johannah and Abigail. You won't have any classes with us, we've been here for a while, but that's exactly why we can tell you all about Aretuza." One of them awed at you, plucking at your dress to readjust it.

The other played with the honey-drizzled pastry on her plate while her eyes took you in, "We heard what happened, we're so sorry! You shouldn't feel bad, we've all done silly things before we knew of our Chaos."

You gave a tightlipped smile to them, not liking their use of silly when it came to your conduit moment. But you knew the promise you'd made with Tissaia, knew she had probably started a rumour to take away from what had really happened as your conduit moment. But, you liked their giggles even less. They made you feel lower than low, even if they seemed to try and coddle you.

Abigail prodded at your clothing again, "You'll get new ones as soon as they realise you're not disappearing on them."

Johannah nodded, "A lot of girls disappear during the first month."

"Why is that?" You dared to ask, suddenly remembering how Yennefer had mentioned the death of a girl. You still didn't know if it had only been a jest or not.

"You should ask how, not why."

The familiar icy voice and the plate that was dropped onto the table made you flinch. Yennefer sat down, glaring at Johannah and Abigail from beneath her lashes.

She continued, "Aretuza was built as a prison to keep us in, did you know?" Her eyes flitted to yours for a second, "They won't teach us that part of its history, of course."

She pricked a piece of fruit on her fork and put it in her mouth and chewed, still glaring at the two girls who were in clear disgust at her sudden arrival. Yennefer mindlessly waved her fork around,

"The fact they need to trap whatever mage or sorcerer they can get their hands on says enough about the entire Brotherhood."

It wasn't an odd sight to see Yennefer take the opportunity to voice her disgust against Aretuza, but the fact she sat in front of you, of you, filled you with confusion. Why now? After she'd clearly not wanted you to sit at her table mere moments before?

"Uh," Johannah started from your right, "Maybe you should go back to the shadows you came from."

"It'll be better for all of us," Abigail said with a sweet smile, eyes shamelessly going over Yennefer's deformities.

"Why would you say such a thing?" You spoke in clear disgust, your head going from left to right, making sure they knew you were talking to them.

"She's used to it. Look at her, don't tell me that she wasn't her village's laughing stock." Johannah giggled, hand supporting her chin as she smiled wickedly and watched how Yennefer grew quiet.

"Be serious, that thing probably lived in a cave with-"

You jumped in your seat when Yennefer's balled fists slammed against the table. Everyone fell silent and all eyes in the hall went to your table.

Her violet eyes were dark now, sullen and filled with angry hot tears as she looked down.

You stood up, abruptly, grabbed your plate and stepped away from the table. You walked around it, standing next to Yennefer to show whose side you'd taken.

"All these classes to teach you spells and courtly intrigues but none of them can teach you the manners of a good heart." Your voice sounded through the hall when you huffed. You pulled at Yennefer's arm to get her to stand up, to get you far away from these hags, but Yennefer brushed you off and shot up. Her chest heaved as she leaned forward,

"One thing about me," She grumbled, hiding how weak she felt and swallowing hard to will her wobbly voice away, "I always get the last laugh."

And as she loomed over the two girls with her deformed posture, licking her lips and tensing her crooked jaw, you could see they retreated, uneasy and maybe even at the brim of feeling worried.

Yennefer turned her back and walked out of Aretuza's central hall. You watched the curtains of the entrance dance lightly in the wind she'd left behind.

Tissaia brought her cup to her lips from her place at the elevated table, intrigued and hesitant all the same at what this could mean.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

#yennefer of vengerberg x reader #yennefer x reader #yennefer imagine #yennefer of vengerberg imagine #yennefer of vengerberg fic #the witcher imagines #the witcher fic #the witcher x reader #everytime you leave

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farahtissaiamyloves · 2 years ago

Text

I love you

Tissaia De Vries x fem!reader

You paced around the room, too anxious to lay on your bed for sleep.

Tissaia was sitting on the armchair by the fireplace; her eyes focused on the flames roaring.

Your movements came to a halt as you turned and sat on the other armchair facing the fireplace.

You looked at her. You looked at your wonderful wife.

Tissaia turned her head to look at you. " Y/N, please don't start again. I really can't- "

" But I want to come with you ! Fight by your side ! Protect you ! " You cut her off feeling more and more exasperated.

Tissaia shook her head. " Darling, no. Please, don't. "

You stood up angrily. " Why them and not me ? " You asked.

Why did she prefer other sorcerers to her own wife ?

Tissaia sighed. " Because... " Her voice trailed off standing up too.

She closed the gap between the two of you with one step taking your hands in hers and locking eye contact with you. " I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. "

You teared up wrapping your hands around her neck and pulling her into a hug.

Tissaia embraced you back, pressing you against her, enjoying the feel of her body against yours and the smell of your unique perfume.

" I don't want you to die, my love. If you follow me, the only thing you would achieve would be to put your life in risk. I don't want that. " Tissaia added leaving a gentle kiss on your neck.

Silence enveloped you afterward.

You didn't dare to break it, loving the way Tissaia's words repeated in your mind.

The rectoress moved to kiss your forehead. " Darling, please, stay here. "

You looked at her for a good moment before shaking your head. A tear rolled down your cheek.

" I prefer risking my life alongside you than sitting here doing nothing but pretend to be a good housewife. " You declared.

Tissaia sighed in defeat and then nodded t you. " As you wish. But I tried to warn you; remember that. "

" Yes, yes, yes, of course. " You agreed without even thinking. You kissed her cheek as a thank you before preparing for bed.

Tissaia smiled sadly at you when you finally joined her on bed.

You reciprocated the smile closing the gap between the two of you again.

Your wife kissed you back with an unmatched passion.

It was your last day at Aretuza; she was going to make the best of it.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

It was done.

The fight was over.

Poor Tissaia could find neither you nor Yennefer.

" Y/N !!!! " She shouted.

Tissaia looked down at the bodies lying on the soil.

Her eyes examining every and each of them.

She chose a soldier who somehow had lost his right hand and with the use of her powers saw his last moments.

Still no sight of you.

Neither any news from Yennefer.

The sorceress sighed and continued her way through the battlefield.

You couldn't have disappeared.

You must have been somewhere.

Alive or dead.

A tear rolled down her cheek at the image of your motionless body laying in her hands.

No.

She wiped it away checking on an other soldier.

You were one of the most powerful sorcerers alive; you must have survived.

You NEEDED to survive.

She walked down the hill and continued wasting her chaos in a despair attempt to find not only the love of her life, but her favorite student as well.

Minutes became hours.

A witcher came asking about Yennefer.

She felt a tiny bit sad telling him that she was dead; but what else could she do ?

The search for any survivors came to an end a couple of hours later and Tissaia didn't know how to feel.

Yennefer was probably killed by her extreme use of magic.

But you. What had happened to you ?

No body was found, meaning that you were still alive... right ?

The recroress walked through the bodies until she reached the forest.

A sound full of pain left her lips remembering how much you loved wandering around forests.

She continues walking until her feet hurt.

The famous sorcerer sat down.

Her hand hesitantly trailed beneath her dress, on her shoulder, caressing the hickey you left there the previous night.

Tissaia cried over the fact that she was to never see you again.

She would never take you hand in hers. Touch you. Kiss you. Tell you how much she loved you.

She cried.

And cried.

Mourning over you.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

A rush of pain woke you up.

You gasped opening your eyes and looking around you.

You were in the woods.

Your eyes focused on the soil where the dead bodies of your enemies were laying.

You took a shaky breath.

You remembered killing them but you had no idea how you ended up unconscious on the floor with a rather big cut on your right shoulder.

You grimaced in pain trying to get up.

You were exhausted.

" Ah. Ah. " You sat down with your back resting against a tree.

You couldn't walk.

Great.

You hissed as you accidentally moved your right hand.

You paled at the realization that it wasn't only cut but probably broken as well.

You swallowed hard focusing as much magic as you could muster.

" Tissaia. " You whispered before drifting off.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

And then she heard it.

Like a whisper.

Or should she say like a gentle kiss on the cheek.

She heard your voice.

Weak but not dead.

Tissaia got up in an instant.

She didn't walk but run toward the source of the magic.

She followed it like a thirsty mosquito in a dessert which finally smelt a living being with blood.

And then she came up with the bodies.

Scars of lightning could be visible in most of the bodies.

Tissaia continued her way carefully, refraining from having any kind of contact with them.

She scanned the place with her eyes until they landed on you.

Your eyes were closed and your right hand was swollen and bloody.

Tissaia took you in her arms.

You were breathing.

A sigh of relief left her mouth as another tear rolled down her cheek.

She used her remaining magic to stop the bleeding and alleviate the pain.

When Tissaia was finished treating you, she was panting.

She called to the other mages to come and help her transfer you to Aretuza because she was unable to open a portal.

The rectoress let out a breath and rested her forehead against yours.

She whispered the three so unique and magical words.

" I love you. "

#tissaia de vries x reader #tissaia de vries #tissaia #the witcher #the witcher books #myanna buring

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