#the way triss looks at yennefer?

[cerealbishh]

"I need to talk to Tissaia."

"No. Something is going on here. Something sinister. I know you want this conclave to bring us together, but... you need to be careful who you can trust."

[born-in-neverland03]

I need to talk about Yen and Sabrina and I need to talk about them now.

Because they're so sister coded. And I know especially in the end of season 3 it seems like they can't really stand eachother but I really like the idea of them having this love/hate relationship where they secretly know they care for eachother but they would rather die than admit it. You can already see it in 1x08 after the tower explode.

Little reminder; Sabrina has stabbed Yennefer five seconds before this. She had literally an arrow in her stomach before she was blown up. And yet she still didn't hesitated to go to check on Sabrina immediately and see if she was alright. And seriously, the way she carefully runs her thumb over her cheek? You don't do that with just anyone. And especially not with someone you hate. And Sabrina?

She apologizes. She broke god knows how many bones during that fall and she still apologizes. She's hurt and barely conscious. And she still wants to tell Yennefer that she's sorry. And Yennefer (also hurt and bleeding) tries to calm her down and tell her that it's okay before she went to get help (to get her wife cough cough) It's the last time Sabrina saw her until 4 weeks later. And I honestly don't want to know what her thoughts were. She probably felt already guilty about the explosions and the way she maybe even killed some of their own people... But the fact that she physically attacked and injured Yennefer during that time before she went missing...

And then we have the reunion of them. Both of them seem a bit cold towards eachother but I think Sabrina is just testing the water, were they are right now after she almost could've killed her and Yen just went with it bc this is just how they work. They are not known for exchanging affections. At least not with each other. They joke in a caustic way, they always have. This is how they show their own kind of love.

I also think you can also see it in the faces of Triss and the other mage (does anybody know she is??). They look like they're used to it and don't even try to stop them. But Sabrina still seemed to be kinda tense during that scene, like she's waiting for Yennefer to doing the first step.

And this is my most favourite part. The way both start laughing and all the tension falls from Sabrina's shoulders before this beautiful moment happened🥹

This hug!!!

Again, you don't hug someone like that when you hate/ don't care for them. It's everything in that scene that let me think they're actually really close with eachother. Because Yen lets her guards down while Sabrina who is a very closed person shows so much joy in that moment. They're just relaxed. This hug is so real. The jokes, the laughs. Then they way they both totally lean into this hug and against eachother. You can clearly see that they're totally comfortable with it and there is no bad blood between them.

[cybernecromancer365]

The three alumni gathered and meandered down Aretuza’s sunlit halls.

“I haven’t seen Yennefer all morning.” Triss said.

“I told you, she’s with Tissaia.” Sabrina answered with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I don’t know. Yennefer seemed like she needed a break when I last spoke to her.”

“Well, a lot can happen in a night.” Sabrina didn’t hide the smirk in her voice.

“It wouldn’t hurt to check on Tissaia since we're nearly there.” Margarita said and they followed a familiar path to Tissaia’s room.

At Tissaia’s door Triss readied a knock—

“Just peek in.” Sabrina said and crossed her arms over her chest. “Or we’ll be standing here forever.”

Triss pursed her lips and glanced to the pair waiting for her to make a decision. Sabrina always had to be so nosy. But this time she was right. Triss tested the latch after a sigh, not surprised to find it locked.

“Use a little magic. If Tissaia asks we’ll say we were worried about her well-being.”

Triss whispered a spell and the door opened with a soft *click*. She peeked around the opening slow, hating the feeling of intruding on someone’s privacy. “Tiss—”

She froze at the sight on the bed.

“Triss?” Margarita started. “What is it? Is it Tissaia?” She went to push the door open but Triss backed out of the doorway and shut the door promptly.

“What?” Sabrina asked as Triss blocked the door with her body, a shell-shocked look in her eyes.

Triss exhaled the breath caught in her chest, feeling her cheeks tingling with warmth, hoping their redness wasn’t too apparent.

“Found her.” Triss cleared her throat.

A moment of silence passed and Sabrina’s eyes widened.

“No.” Sabrina’s mouth hung open. “What did you see? Spill.”

“No, no, no, no.” Triss hurried away from the door, cutting between them as she headed to the stairs briskly. “I am not a part of this. I didn’t even want to come here.”

Sabrina chased the fleeing mage, grabbing her arm before Triss could escape. “Triss…”

“I saw nothing. There, that’s my answer.”

“I swear I will throw you down these stairs…”

“How would that help you?”

“Triss…” Rita started. “Tissaia is my oldest friend—"

“Nope.” Triss started down the stairs, footsteps clamoring to catch up to her brisk pace. “I will not be guilt-tripped.”

“I need to know if she’s okay.”

“She was fine.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Sabrina grabbed Triss again. “…did they fuck?” Sabrina asked with an emerging smile. “Well…”

Triss bit her lip. “You said it, not me.”

As if on cue, Sabrina and Margarita slapped their hands over their mouths. Their surprise alive in wide eyes.

“What do we do?” Sabrina glanced between the other two.

“Nothing.” Triss said. “We scurry away and act like we never saw a thing. We don’t talk about it. We don’t tell anyone anything, especially not Yennefer.”

Tongue in cheek, Sabrina smiled. “Well Yen, that’s one way to rid the rectoress of her demons.”

“God…” Margarita rolled her eyes.

Sabrina faced Margarita. “So Oldest Friend, how long have you known about Tissaia’s affinity for women—”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” Triss put a hand over her eyes as Margarita’s brow raised, her face home to an incredulous look.

“You’re questioning me? How would I know—”

“What are you guys doing here?”

They all froze at Yennefer’s voice and turned, looking up to the mage standing at the top of the stairs. Each averted their gaze.

“There’s no need to check on Tissaia…” Yennefer made her way down the stairs. “She’s fine.”

“I bet.” Sabrina smirked as Yennefer moved between them, and they followed her out if the stairwell. “You sure do know how to comfort someone in their darkest hour.”

In the atrium Yennefer froze.

“I’m not a part of this.” Triss started away but Yennefer grabbed her arm and turned to the group.

“What do you know?” Yennefer said with pursed lips and let go of Triss, eyeing each one of them with an interrogating gaze.

“Don’t look at us, she saw.” Sabrina pointed to Triss.

“I saw nothing.” Triss kept her gaze down. “I was just trying to check on you.”

Realization flashed through Yennefer’s eyes.

“You always were a teacher’s pet.”

Yennefer’s gaze darted to Sabrina, growing more ominous by the second. Shoulders rolled back, her posture strong and tall, she closed the distance between her and Sabrina, grabbing the collar of Sabrina’s dress. Their gazes challenged one another’s.

“You bother Tissaia about this and I won’t hesitate to light your ass on fire.” Yennefer spoke low and menacingly.

A smile stretched across Sabrina's face as she lifted her hands in mock defense, and Yennefer backed away. ��Your secret's safe.”

“It better be.” Yennefer left them, cutting through the atrium on her way to her destination.

[blood-inthefields]

Summary of all my Yennefer/Tissaia fanfics so far...

♠ All we are (is dust in the wind) ¬ It takes four days for Tissaia to find Yennefer after the battle of Sodden.

♠ Pynk (is where it all starts) ¬ In which hot-shot lawyer Tissaia de Vries unknowingly walks into a strip-club and finds herself hypnotized by one of the dancers there. Not how she’d planned her evening to go.

♠ Get naked (i got a plan) ¬ The phone rang, drawing her attention. With a sigh, she picked it up. “Phil, is that you?” Distorted by the line, a muffled voice answered her. “Johnny got clipped.” Tissaia’s hand balled into a fist. “You know what to do,” she replied curtly. The line went dead. She hung up, ran a hand through her hair. A bath would do her good. And then she would go find Yennefer. 

1920s AU.

♠ I’m your sinner (and your whore) ft. JZXR7 ¬ Due to circumstances entirely beyond Tissaia’s control (Yennefer. Due to Yennefer), she’s found herself trapped in her bedroom with a human whirlwind during a minor pandemic.

She has decided, in all her collected wisdom as Rectoress, that the girl has ten minutes to stop talking before Tissaia takes drastic measures.

♠ Want you, yes i do (bet you never knew it) ¬ The first time that Yennefer considers throwing Tissaia on a bed is in Rinde.

♠ I’ll be loving you (til the end of the night) ¬ Tissaia comes home after a hard day at work to find that her girlfriend has a couple of surprises in store.

♠ The one where Tissaia is a freestyle dance teacher ¬ “It’s Tissaia,” Triss told her, concern evident in her voice.

“What’s with her?”

Now closer to the window, Yennefer leaned forwards and watched as her former mentor, way down below, was shaking her arms and upper body in very strange ways. Had the woman finally lost it?

♠ I will let you down (i will make you hurt) ¬ She feels the blade against her throat before she’s even done with her sentence. Tissaia remains calm, despite the cold metal piercing the skin ever so lightly. Something warm runs down her pale skin and she knows it’s blood. Still, her eyes never leave Yennefer’s.

“Why,” Yennefer begins, almost shouting, as she stalks forward until she’s all up in Tissaia’s face. “Why did you let them send me to Nilfgaard?”

♠ My immoral ft. thinkbucket ¬ What’s up preps, I’m Yennefer Fireball Darkness Purple Mist Vengerberg and I’m a teacher at Aretuza.

or, a parody of legendary fanfiction My Immortal.

♠ Didn’t wanna believe it (but now you are all I see) ¬ It’s on their third date that everything goes to shit. In hindsight Tissaia should have known crushing hard on the whirlwind that is Yennefer would mean her life would be turned upside down. However, she had never imagined it would land her in jail.

♠ And now the surface ripples¬ She’s been scouring the Continent, desperate for a cure for her barrenness when word reaches her.

Tissaia de Vries is dead.

♠Find my place (in the warmth of your embrace)¬ A look at some entries of Tissaia’s diaries about her ever-evolving relationship with Yennefer.

♠ Stay a while (and be mine) ¬  Post Sodden Hill, Yennefer and Tissaia are back at Aretuza. One night changes their relationship forever.

♠ After hours ¬ Could the torture be any worse? Yennefer wondered. It was bad enough to have to spend entire days with Tissaia stuck in a classroom together with noisy, dirty children but being around her after the day was over and the children and other teachers had left was pure torture.

♠ Wanna kiss you (til I lose my breath)¬ The woman is not just a powerful sorceress, she’s an absolute witch and Yennefer tries to hide but it feels pointless. One look from Tissaia and she becomes an open book.

♠ I will reach for you (when you’re feeling low) ¬ Set in 2.03 after Yennefer shows up at Aretuza and gives Tissaia a gay heart attack.

They know, they all know what Yennefer means to her, how long she’s spent trying to find her.

♠ I used to float (now I just fall down) ¬ Post 3.08. Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.

Then the pain came.

Sharp, burning, unexpected.

Yennefer gasped.

♠ For neither ever nor never (goodbye) ¬ Missing scene from 3.08. Drabble.

♠ This is a glove story ¬ Tissaia receives a gift.

♠ If you wanna go (then I'll be so lonely) ¬ When she finds Tissaia on the floor surrounded by her own blood, Yennefer’s first instinct is to run to her, so she does. Her knees sink to the floor and she wails, cradling Tissaia’s body, hovering over her as if to shield her from harm. But the harm is done, and Tissaia’s the culprit, and Yennefer curses her name.

♠ Sinking fangs (into pumpkin delights) ¬ It is Halloween and Tissaia's been invited to a party where she meets a bewitching stranger… one that could potentially bite her, if asked nicely.

♠ Somewhere in the darnkess (us together for a while) ¬

“You’re playing with fire, Yennefer,” Tissaia warned, a hint of regret in her voice.

The younger mage closed the small gap between them, gently but firmly grabbing Tissaia’s hands with hers.

“Maybe I've always been drawn to the flames,” she replied, her eyes never leaving Tissaia’s.

♠ Do not stand by my grave and weep (I am not there, I do not sleep) ¬

“What did she mean to her,” Ciri bluntly asks after a while. The question’s escaped her but now she can’t take it back. She wishes she could when Geralt remains quiet and a slight frown appears on his face. He doesn’t know, she realizes. Or he does not want to tell her.

And that, in itself, is the beginning of an answer.

♠ Oh, my lover (you made me feel like no other) ¬ Freshly divorced, British architect Tissaia de Vries embarks on a journey to Italy where she finds herself caught in a whirlwind romance with a beautiful and enigmatic young gondolier.

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Love Letters

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): none Rating: general

Fic Summary: Jaskier writes down all his feelings in a letter he never expects Geralt to see - only for Geralt to arrive shortly after, snowed out of Kaer Morhen.

For @jackironsides 💜

My beloved Geralt

Dear Geralt

Geralt, my love

No matter what he writes, it sounds wrong. Too intimate, too casual, too... much in one way or another. Jaskier hasn't even gotten past the introduction and he already wants to give up on the letter. It feels so easy over the summer, when he and Geralt spend long, muggy days walking side-by-side. Jaskier sings and Geralt rides, and occasionally, Geralt will even sing along with whatever he's playing.

Now, in the dark of his room at the academy, those feelings feel dull and distant. Not Jaskier's feelings, of course, but the potential reciprocation. These days, he finds himself thinking about Geralt's relationships with Eskel or Lambert, or even Vesemir. He wonders how different those relationships are to the one he shares with Geralt. Maybe those gentle things Geralt says to him in the comfort of their shared inn rooms are just things Geralt would say to anyone.

Ugh. Jaskier flops backward in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He wishes there was an easy way to know these things, and for the first time in a long time he finds himself envying Yennefer. She could just read Geralt's mind, she could just know. And Geralt? He can smell emotions or something like that; at least, he always seems to know when Jaskier is upset about something. Maybe he took the wrong path in life. Maybe he should have tried to get into Ban Ard and become a mage. Surely there is some chaos in him, enough, at least, to be able to read minds.

Briefly, Jaskier considers contacting Yen. They've had a better relationship as of late, and she might be able to give him some insight, if nothing else. But he doesn't want to drag her into something that isn't really any of her business. Not because he's afraid to tell her, but because she might not want to know. She's happy now - travelling with Triss and Istredd last he heard - but there might be some leftover feelings there and he doesn't want to bring up Geralt in a romantic setting if he doesn't need to. Plus, he doesn't want to feel like more of a burden than he already does.

Jaskier looks down at the half-started letter in front of him and angrily crumples it up before blowing out the candle and shoving his chair back. He flops forward onto folded arms, looking out into the blue of the night sky, speckled with snow. Normally, he would take comfort in a view like this, but tonight, it just reminds him of how far away Geralt is.

Is it even worth beginning a relationship when they spend so much time apart? Would Geralt even be interested? Even if he was madly in love with Jaskier, would that be enough? What's the point when you have no one to cuddle with and watch the snowfall? But then maybe Geralt would want to visit some winters if they were more.

Gods, he wants that more than he can even properly comprehend. The idea of falling asleep in Geralt's arms feels like the height of romance. Already, Jaskier treasures the moments he falls asleep listening to Geralt's voice, even if he does feel a bit bad about it in the morning. Despite himself, a dopey smile spreads across his face at the thought. He misses Geralt more than he can say while they're apart in the winter. It's only a little into the season and already the long, dark winter feels endless.

Jaskier inhales deeply, sighs, and sits up to write. He's determined to finish this letter, even if it never reaches its intended audience.

Geralt,

I know it's barely been a month since we parted, but I find myself longing again for your company. Teaching is hectic as always, and my students love a tale of your heroism. I know you don't consider yourself a hero, but I do. Though lately, I find myself recalling different moments from our travels. I find myself thinking of the evenings after a contract has been completed and paid. I think back to the ale or tea and the stars hanging low in the sky. The way the firelight flickers on your face. I miss that. I miss the way your hair falls in your face when you take it down to sleep. I miss how stubborn you are about that awful headband. And I regret to tell you now that I've grown... rather fond of it, actually.

Rather rarely do I find myself at a loss for words, but they escape me when I try to nail down all the things I feel for you. I know I am a mere mortal, doomed to die years or even decades before you, but given the chance, I would happily live out the rest of my life at your side. Perhaps even in your arms.

I know love is not a word you use often, but the way I feel it could very well become something so all-encompassing. I can't promise that love is how I feel now. I find myself mixed up in a way I've never felt before. That's not to say that I don't love you, because I do. As a friend, as a companion, as something more. Perhaps one day, even as a lover. Even if you don't feel the same, I want you to know that you are deeply cared for in every way one person can care for another. I don't mind if you don't want to see me again, so long as it is your wish, and one borne out of intention rather than fear. Because although I've never spoken the words, I've longed for you for days and weeks and months and years, silently staying by your side. Perhaps one day you will have me there on purpose - despite, or maybe even because of, my feelings for you.

Until then, I remain yours, as always.

Jaskier.

Jaskier looks over the letter once more and, feeling an uncomfortable swell of emotion, folds it neatly and tucks it into an envelope that just reads Geralt. He's only just finished hiding the evidence when there's a knock at his door.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Sorry to interrupt so late," the voice on the other side of the door says. Jassa, Jaskier thinks, his assistant at the university. "You have a guest."

"A guest?" Jaskier asks, perplexed. Who on earth would brave this weather just to visit? The only guests he normally has are students or his fellow professors, either of whom would just come to his room and knock themselves.

"He says he's a friend. Geralt? I think," Jassa says.

Jaskier's heart somersaults.

"Right," he says, "of course. Send him up. I'll leave the door open."

"Certainly," Jassa smiles. "I'll send him right up. Have a good night, Professor."

"And you," Jaskier finishes, barely aware of what he's saying.

What is Geralt doing here? Of all the years they've known each other, he's never once come to visit over the winter, so why now? Jaskier turns around, leaning on the door, and is struck by the state of his room. For the last two days, he's done nothing but lie around and sulk, and it shows. He absolutely cannot let Geralt see his room like this.

Given he has roughly four minutes, maybe a few more if Geralt stops to talk to Jassa before coming up, it's not going to be easy. So Jaskier starts with the worst of it: the clothes and things laying all over the bed and floor. There is a surprising amount of mess considering Jaskier is the only one residing in the room, but he manages to get the worst of it tidied before the knock at the door. A final glance tells him only the desk and table are still cluttered, but that much is acceptable so he crosses to the door.

As he pulls it open, Jaskier is struck by Geralt's smile. He always is when they haven't seen each other for some time, but this feels more. Maybe it's because he's been considering his own feelings lately, but looking at Geralt, here and in person, makes his legs weak.

"Hi," he says shakily.

Geralt gives him an odd look, but it quickly turns into a half-smile and he steps into the room when Jaskier moves aside.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he says gently, "it's no trouble to find a room at the inn if-"

"Not at all," Jaskier interrupts. "I'd be happy to host you if you're staying.”

"I had hoped to," Geralt says.

"What brings you?" Jaskier asks.

"The route to Kaer Morhen was snowed over by the time we arrived in Kaedwen," he explains, "I thought this might be the best place to stay."

Part of Jaskier is delighted at the thought, though when he considers it further, Oxenfurt is further than any of the other places Geralt would be more than welcome to stay over the winter. There's no good reason for him to have travelled all the way to the coast, when surely Yen would have taken him in without question. Their relationship may not be romantic anymore, but Jaskier knows there is still a deep love between them. And he's happy for it, which makes it all the more confusing why Geralt is here. He thinks to ask, but reconsiders.

"Please," he says, remembering his manners, "make yourself at home. I can have a bath poured if you're tired? Was Roach properly cared for? Shall I call for supper-"

"Jaskier," Geralt says gently, "Roach is fine. A small meal would be nice, but there's no rush. Right now I'd just like to relax."

Of course, Jaskier thinks. He must have been travelling for weeks if he first attempted the path and then had to turn back. Jaskier had left him just north of the Pontar, between the mountain ranges, so that must have been-

"Jaskier?" Geralt asks, cutting off his train of thought. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Jaskier assures him. "Just wasn't expecting company and I'm not prepared for it- Not that you're not welcome!" he corrects quickly, and with a little too much vigour.

"Perhaps you're the one who needs a rest," Geralt says, half-teasingly.

"Just to get my head on straight," Jaskier assures him. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll go fetch something warm for you to eat."

Jaskier slips from the room, only stopping one he's far enough away that Geralt won't hear him. He stops and sighs, pressing a hand to his chest as if to stop the mad beating of his heart. Surely Geralt has heard it already and he’s given himself away, but he was hardly expecting to be visited like this out of the blue.

He takes another few calming breaths before continuing on down to the kitchen. He's close with the chef - with most of the staff if he's honest - and has more than once helped him out of a sticky situation with less-than-edible herbs, so his request for a private supper is granted with a smile. In the meantime, Jaskier makes his way back up to the room, holding his breath for a moment before opening the door.

Geralt is standing over the desk in the small room, mumbling quietly. As Jaskier approaches, slipping up behind him, he realizes Geralt is reading the poetry he'd been working on. Jaskier has never been so relieved to know how little Geralt thinks about his poems, as these ones are nearly explicitly about him, the only relief being that his name is not used. Wolf, he uses once or twice, but it's a metaphor and Geralt always says he doesn't care for flowery things like metaphors.

"This is... lovely," Geralt says, though he sounds a bit off as he does.

"Thank you," Jaskier says quietly, slipping around to Geralt's side to see which one he's reading.

"You- your narrator sounds sad."

"Ah, yes. Been a bit of a downer lately, I suppose."

Jaskier tries to laugh it off but Geralt turns to look at him, something like concern in his expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing's wrong," Jaskier assures. "I've just not been feeling myself."

"Can I help?"

Jaskier is taken aback by the blunt suggestion and his head jerks up to meet Geralt's eyes.

"I'm not sure you could, love," he says gently.

"If someone has hurt you-"

"No," Jaskier says quickly.

"You reek of heartache," Geralt says bluntly.

"Right. Well." He considers for a moment before deciding against lying to Geralt. "Unrequited love, I'm afraid."

"How do you know it is?"

"Unrequited?" Jaskier laughs, "oh, my darling, he'd have to be the stupidest man alive not to know. Or perhaps the most oblivious. I'm sure he would have said something if he felt the same."

"You haven't," Geralt counters.

"Right, well- He wouldn't want someone like me, surely."

"Perhaps he feels you think the same of him."

Jaskier had considered that option, but it seems unlikely.

"Either way, it's best just to tell him. I'm sure he'll be flattered if nothing else."

The mere suggestion of it makes Jaskiers stomach turn and he nods slowly. Thankfully, at that moment, supper is delivered to their room and he is spared the thought of confessing his feelings - out loud - to Geralt.

His relief is short-lived as supper is finished shortly, but he makes an excuse about taking the dishes away and dashes out the door with them. Jaskier wants to cry. He can't believe he's gotten himself into a mess like this and he can only hope Geralt doesn't continue to bring it up.

He's so distracted thinking about it that it seems like seconds before he's standing back in front of his door. He hesitates before opening the door, keeping his eyes closed until the last possible moment.

When he opens his eyes, Jaskier's heart jumps into his throat. As Geralt turned to see him, a piece of paper had fallen from his hands and Jaskier can't take his eyes off it. He'd been so preoccupied worrying about the mess when Geralt showed up that he'd forgotten to hide the letter. And it was addressed to Geralt, he had every right to read it, but-

"Jaskier?"

Jaskier scrambles across the floor, reaching for the letter, but Geralt catches his wrist, holding him still.

"Is this just another one of your poems?" he asks quietly.

Jaskier shakes his head. There's no use denying it.

"It's… me. I'm the one you were talking about earlier."

Jaskier half wishes he could fall through the floor and never have to finish this conversation. Sadly, despite how hard he wishes, the floor refuses to open up beneath him. He nods.

"I want to hear you say it."

Jaskier's tongue feels heavy in his mouth but he manages, "I don't know what to say. I don't want to make any big confessions I can't live up to."

"Then how about this?" Geralt says.

He leans in, taking Jaskier's face in his hand, and softly presses their lips together. For a moment, Jaskier forgets to breathe and has trouble believing this is real at all. But when Geralt pulls back again, he's smiling, his cheeks a faint shade of pink. Jaskier's first thought is that it's quite a pretty colour on him before he presses forward and kisses him again.

"Yeah," he breathes, barely pulling away to speak, "I think that's a good start."

[nnightskiess]

everytime you leave, part seven

₊° - 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

The central hall was as well-lit as ever, despite the rumbling storm clouding over Aretuza. A handful of mages were already sitting around the tables, chatting away and waiting until the table with superiors was completely filled so that supper could commence. Your time among the other mages had not been made particularly easy when you'd taken a stand with Yennefer that first time, but it seemed that there were a few mages who you had intrigued with it. Anika, who you had learned was the only person close enough to a friend that Yennefer had, often sent you gentle smiles now. Triss still went and brought you healing elixirs every now and then, clearly a request from Tissaia, and she would never leave without having had a small chat with you. You were still too closed off and shaken by your past to properly let anyone in, and your sorrowful looks and distant behaviour weren't tempting your classmates to approach you. Sabrina would often glance your way, but you didn't like how she seemed to feel superior to the others simply because she'd been in Aretuza the longest. Fringilla never really appeared too interested in you, too occupied in mastering her Chaos to even notice you, so you didn't bother. Celestia was a different case. The mage was older than you, and the combination of her light hair and golden complexion made it hard for her not to stand out. She often observed you, sometimes to the point that it made your uneasiness make place for irritation. You didn't know why she did it. Frankly, you didn't even want to know, if not for the impending fear that she was trying to see right through you. And Johannah and Abigail, well, they had never looked your way again, but it was better that way. They weren't the type of people you wanted to have around, not even if their friendship was crucial to your survival in Aretuza.

It was because of your lack of friends that you tried to show up in the central hall before the others did. There was something peaceful about picking a table in the empty hall and waiting if someone would join you, instead of having to choose where to sit down with dozens of sets of eyes on you. Many a time, it was Triss and Sabrina who would accompany you. Well, Triss first, feeling pity over you, no doubt. Then the redhead would wave over Sabrina, who accepted the invitation out of curiosity over you and would not leave it up for debate to rope in some of the others. But Yennefer never sat with you again. Besides the times you would see her during your lessons or after classes in Tissaia's office to finish your punishment, she'd avoided you like the plague. She was often quiet during your shared detention, but her silence was never unsettling. It seemed as though she had come to terms with the fact you were going to be around, and that collaboration was necessary if she wanted to become the powerful mage she dreamed of.

You picked a table beneath the tall stained-glass windows, knowing it often remained unoccupied. A cupbearer appeared, pouring you a glass to hold you over before supper would begin.

"Do you think this endless rain will ever cease?"

A soft hand was placed on your shoulder and you watched as Celestia sat beside you.

"I suppose not, it would make the place lose all of its riveting charm," You muttered sarcastically, bringing the cup to your lips.

The woman beside you let out a dry chuckle at your disinterest, "Aren't you a delight. Is that why you turned some people in your village into cows?"

Your head snapped to her and her eyes bore into yours, the hint of her smile now gone. Her stare pierced right through you. Then she shook her head, and she grinned, "Don't worry. It's not the worst conduit moment out there."

You swallowed, a little cautious by the sudden topic of conversation, "Last week the rumour was that I turned my mother's hair green."

Celestia accepted the cup that was put in front of her, taking a big sip all while observing your face. She hummed, "So, which one was it then?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"You can tell quite a lot by someone's conduit moment." She shrugged and leaned to face you better.

"What was yours?"

She grinned, wickedly, as if talking to you had been the most entertaining part of her day, "I'll trade you mine for yours."

"Whatever are the two of you gossiping about?" Sabrina sat down in front of you, eyeing you and your rigid posture with clear interest.

Celestia barely acknowledged the girl, eyes still boring into yours. Maybe you were imagining things, or maybe the sudden panic and stress were sending sharp pains to your temples, "Sabrina made her mother fat, did you know?"

Bemused, the blonde nodded, "Hm, I did. Why are we talking about this, though?"

"About what?" Fringilla approached, Darallis and Jutta in tow, following her like puppies in the hopes of Fringilla's grace and power rubbing off on them.

"Y/N's conduit moment."

"Why?"

Finally, Celestia turned to the others and you could breathe again, "Because I want to know what really happened! It must be pretty embarrassing if she hasn't taken to gloating about it."

Sabrina brightened, "What I really want to know is what happened in your room that night when they instructed us to stay inside after we got woken up by all the noise. Jutta told me she could hear yelling before it felt like the walls came tumbling down."

Jutta perked up, ready to defend herself after having seen the accusatory look you'd shot her way, "I was only worried."

Celestia's faux sweet tone made the girl blush in embarrassment, "Hush, we all know you were scared."

Suddenly, the table fell silent, and you knew why when her voice sounded from behind you,

"To my office, pup."

With wide eyes and a stomach rumbling in protest not to leave the hall before you'd eaten, you turned around, "What?! Why?"

"Did you or did you not cut off your garments?" Tissaia pointed at the uneven ragged edge of your dress.

Mouth agape, you stopped, "I-... it was too long."

"And so will your detention be, which I will now extend for the foreseeable future." She gestured for you to stand up.

"But supper-" You hadn't been able to eat after the disgusting plant Tissaia had given you to chew on last night to try and control your mind when it was reeling had made you throw up. Its taste and sensations had finally faded off an hour ago, and you were starving.

However, the look Tissaia gave you shut you up. There was something in her eyes you recognised now. Desperation? Urgency?

All eyes were on you when you got up and followed her out of the central hall, listening to the clicking of her heels against the cobblestone halls. When the two of you were out of earshot and had walked into the hall of her private wing, she deemed it safe enough to speak,

"I fear I will have to speed up some of your lessons, going by what I just interrupted. We will start right away." She turned, eyeing the hem of your dress, "And we will get it tailored for you."

Tissaia opened the door to her office, expecting you to find your usual seat as she went and poured herself a drink. She knew she'd need it with today's private lesson.

You sat down in the chair across her desk much like you'd done every other night for the past three weeks when you'd practised your Chaos with her. Your fear of fire was still very much there, the knowledge that you now could control a tiny flame hardly doing anything to your fast-beating heart when you walked past a fireplace. You'd also still been summoned to sit out your punishment for the night Yennefer had come into your room. Even after three weeks, you still could not fight off the confusion after Tissaia had made it known to you that she'd been aware the two of you had lied, or that Yennefer had just as much blame for it as you had. How had she known? To make matters worse, neither you nor Yennefer had managed to fully transfer the water without breaking the vase or killing the flower, but, as you'd learned from watching each other, you were now closer than ever. You knew it.

It worried you that Tissaia's desk seemed to be empty this time. Usually, she always had something already prepared for you. The mystery of what was to come installed some sense of unease in you.

"We humans are made of so much more than skin and bone. We have a mind that thinks of its own, a heart that wants one thing and a soul that desires another. When you find your way into the world, at court or wherever else the Brotherhood will find need for you, you will understand that a person is made of thoughts and actions often inconsistent with one another. They might think one thing but say another. They might promise to do this, but end up committing to that. Us mages need to be able to poke through that resolve and shield to ensure the balance of the Continent will not be compromised. I am not talking about dallying men trapped in a marriage and keeping it secret that they're in love with another damsel, I'm talking about statesmen, Kings and Queens promising to keep the peace, but going to war."

She rounded her desk and, for the first time ever, sat down in the chair next to you.

"Ensnaring one's mind, uncovering its hidden motives, its fears and its memories, hearing its thoughts and taking in its senses requires a great deal of focus and expertise. Next month, we will start dipping our toes in mind control. All of the girls will be new to it and will know just as little as you do now," Her exclusion of naming you with the other girls, didn't go unnoticed, "But I fear that while they have nothing to lose when a silly little secret or their true feelings get uncovered, your very life could be forfeited when your not-so-little one gets out."

She leaned forward, eyes hard as she tried to make the severity known.

"I do not say this to frighten you, but you cannot let people know what you did, what you survived, and what you can do. And if you do not want to find yourself in just such a predicament, you need to first handle blocking out the prying eyes and ears of your novice classmates before you'll have to ward off suspecting and nosy individuals at court. Do you understand?"

You nodded, letting the information sink.

"Use your words, pup."

"I understand."

Tissaia always knew how to make you feel little, but you couldn't care less right now, sensing what was at stake. Her words scared you.

She sat back, seemingly satisfied with your compliance and attention.

"Keeping someone out of your mind is not the same as taking a peak in someone else's. It requires a different kind of focus and works its energy on another wavelength. While the lesson will start with reading what's deeply hidden within the minds of your classmates, the only thing that you will focus on, is how to keep them out."

You pursed your lips, insecurities taking over, "That's... that's nothing elemental," You thought of the candle and the pitcher of water, the gust of wind, then swallowed.

"It is not. It is a new territory entirely, but one you ought to master sooner rather than later."

She watched you, hearing the many thoughts swirling within, almost growing irritated by the new words already forming before the others had left your brain.

"You've gotten in trouble by not blocking someone out before." She smiled softly when she saw the quick realisation on your face.

"When you knew I had covered for Yennefer?"

Tissaia dipped her head, "I discovered a lie that time, but when you're a mage, especially one at court and surrounded by people trying to bring your Kingdom down to benefit themself, you cannot let yourself waver, you cannot let anyone inside your head to manipulate it, put falsities and insecurities in there and to dig through your weaknesses and knowlege."

"I understand," You repeated before she could ask you to confirm. She needed you to know the severity and importance of this lesson and the ones going forward, but, going by the focused frown of your brows, she knew she had you in the right mind space.

"But first, I will tell you what one can expect to experience when diving into someone's mind. It is good to know what you'll want them to ward off of before you know how to." She continued when you kept your intrigued gaze on her, begging her to continue. You might still not like what had happened, how you'd ended up here, but you weren't daft and knew as well as anyone that this was of importance to your survival. You might still have a death wish, to reconnect with your family, but you had a feeling your death would likely not be fast and unsuspecting if the day ever came.

"Once you've fully mastered the craft, you will instantly find what you are looking for to save yourself the time to plough through one's entire mind, but for you, it will be an overwhelming feat. Smells will fill your nostrils, you'll hear sounds and voices, feel sensations through your body as if you were there to live the memory that's playing out before you. They can be short moments in time that you'll get to see as if you were there yourself, or flitting images of memories tucked further away. It will be an overwhelming feat and you won't know what to focus on. If you do not learn to quiet your mind or block someone out, they will see all that you have ever thought, felt, tasted, heard, smelt and sensed."

You swallowed, taking it in, and then your eyes fluttered to the wall behind Tissaia, where an embroidered banner flag of the Brotherhood hung. As you let her words settle, you realised the explanation sounded oddly familiar to what you'd experienced on your first night here. You'd seen stuff... heard things, that hadn't been entirely your own— they had been Yennefer's. And while you hadn't had an explanation for it then, you'd been given one now.

Tissaia watched an unreadable expression settle on your face.

"You best tell me before I find it out myself."

Though her voice was stern and demanding, her eyes were filled with a careful curiosity as you looked up, "Getting into someone's mind...I think I already did that. Once. That I know of."

She tilted her head to the side, intrigue flashing across her features, "Why do you think that?"

"That night the storm came into my room," You said, not knowing how else to explain it, "There was a moment where I- where we... Yennefer and I, were in each other's head. I think- ... I think it was what sparked my Chaos to implode."

"Both your Chaos." Tissaia reminded you, clearly not wanting you to forget that Yennefer's Chaos had been just as much to blame for the destruction that had occurred, "And if you don't learn to control it, you'll not only implode but explode as well. Which is why we need to start with blocking your mind off right now."

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Tissaia had carefully observed both mages throughout the first two weeks, sensing their chaos and how their fizzing rumbling seemed to grow in sound and sensation whenever they were near each other. Whether that was calculated or on pure accident, a happening of fate, she wasn't sure yet. She also wasn't sure what it would mean for the future of the Brotherhood. Young mages this powerful, able to break a Brotherhood barrier, were extremely scarce. Hells, to find any mage at all was already a gift these days. She needed to handle this delicately, think twenty steps ahead and figure out what this could mean for the survival and respect of mages in the Continent. Tissaia had scribbled down all possibilities for the two of you, of what Kingdoms to send you to and how and where the Continent would benefit most from your presence, maybe keep one of you at Aretuza to join her board of teachers once you proved your worth, or perhaps you could be of use for something else entirely. But before she could be certain that she had found liquid gold in two of her newest students, she needed to be sure your excellence wasn't just a momentary fluke.

As usual, Yennefer strolled into the classroom late, wanting to hide her eagerness to control her Chaos by annoying her rectoress.

"You're late," Tissaia stated, watching as the deformed girl's eyes immediately sought out those of yours down the end of the line. "Be a good little piglet and go sit across from our weakling pup."

All the girls watched as Yennefer's face grew with frustration and hurt, but sat down nonetheless. You locked eyes momentarily before Tissaia demanded your attention again,

"Today will be the next step in controlling your Chaos, and in controlling that of others," She started, giving you a quick look, the message clear as day, "But we cannot control the senses of others before we can sit back and watch them from a distance. Every great puppeteer has first spent hours watching a human's movements before making his puppet an extension of himself." Tissaia walked along the row of girls, staring at them intently to sense the state of their Chaos before their task. She peeked in their minds— Annika thought of her sisters, Fringilla of how she was going to be the best out of them all, Sabrina of the praise Tissaia would give her when she succeeded, but as her eyes locked with those of Yennefer's, she stopped her step. Mixed with the frustration clearly meant for her, she could sense something else. A pull... a hint of intrigue... a fastly beating heart and a clear view of Y/E/C coloured eyes. She ignored the glare Yennefer was still sending her way and continued,

"Look at the girl in front of you," She ordered, "Look until a door becomes a window. Seek to understand your partner's greatest fears."

Tissaia didn't even need to lock eyes with you to see the worry flash across your face. Despite the hours spent blocking out Tissaia's prying mind into yours, and having finally succeeded the past week, you were still unsure if you could do it on the spot, with so much pressure in your body. All the practising had left you fatigued, and you weren't quite sure if you had enough energy left to control your Chaos. And to have Yennefer see the destruction of your village, to know you were capable of such terror... and to let her in on the secret you had with your rectoress would mean the end of your deal. But above all, perhaps the thing you feared most was for her to see what lay beneath that all. That even while she'd been distant and rather unkindly to you, she was the closest thing you had to a friend after the hours spent together in Tissaia's office after class. You weren't exactly sure how she would take such pitiful news.

"With our eyes?" Yennefer wondered, not taking hers off yours for even a second. She tried to stall long and hard before blinking each time, hoping an unbroken connection would help enlighten something in yours. If only she could find an answer to the questions swirling beneath her chest.

"No, piglet. With Chaos." Tissaia stopped to stand in front of the row of seated girls, watching her two most promising young mages with great intrigue. If she was right about her suspicions, well, let's just say that immense power could bring immense victory or immense doom, depending on which side the coin fell on.

"Thought transference should flow through you, like learning to dance or swim or kiss."

Feeling Tissaia's eyes on you, you willed yourself to keep eye contact with Yennefer. Surely your rectoress was aware of the consequences that could doom your whole secret bargain and her prestige and authority among the Continent if you failed. Despite the lessons, did that mean she had faith in your potential, or that she held no belief that Yennefer would even succeed at looking beneath the sheath of your mind at all? Tissaia de Vries confused you immensely. She had blamed and belittled you right after the first day she'd brought you into her office, but lately, it was as if something had shifted within her. You often caught her looking at you already with an unreadable expression, and you did not know if you were supposed to feel scared or honoured to have Aretuza's rectoress attention.

That same buzzing that had plagued your head recently, but which you had quickly grown used to as well, reverberated through your head once more as you tried to look at whatever lay behind Yennefer's violet eyes. A crackling sound popped your ears right open and your chest swelled with the same sensation you'd felt right before your Chaos had torn your room apart. It worried you for as long as the feeling lasted until a warm sensation was draped over you, engulfing you in serenity. You felt something tickle beneath your skin, like nimble fingers gently prying and pulling at the threads of your Chaos, wanting to reach out and wrap it in a hug. It was comforting. It was peaceful. It wasn't at all as invasive as it had felt when Tissaia had punctured your mind.

Yennefer's jaw tensed as she clenched her teeth, desperately wanting to get this right, to prove she was not just a waste of space, that she was just as capable and worthy as any other young mage. But her skin tingled too much to pay proper attention. It was as if a thousand tiny ants were crawling above and beneath the surface of her skin. She imagined her Chaos reaching out to yours, clawing at it to pull it closer. A ringing echoed in her ears, and then a blood-curdling scream sounded. She winced slightly in surprise but stayed focused. Determined to dig further, she furrowed her brows in concentration, fighting the urge to look at the rest of your face instead of only your eyes. But no matter how hard she tried, something pushed her away, taking her Chaos away in that progress. She felt warm suddenly, and a thin layer of sweat coated her upper lip when she tried to ward off the serenity wanting to calm her restless Chaos.

"Stop pushing me out," Yennefer spoke softly under her breath, in a focused trance. She knew she'd seen heaps of your memories before, and it had been through a wall, so she was sure she was going to have to succeed now that she was looking right into your eyes, just like the small glimpse Istredd had helped her see. She could do it then, so she had to do it now.

"I'm not doing anything." You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as well. But you were, you were clearing your mind with all your might while blocking out her Chaos each time it jabbed at you. With your concentration at an all-time high, your Chaos reached out to hers, gently guiding it out of your mind while keeping the bond composed and undisturbed.

"Well then maybe you should." She muttered, a little aggravated, for if you did not aid her to let her in, then how was she to succeed?

You blinked, your tone sharp but your hurt evident, "Or maybe you should try harder."

It was all that was needed to get the girl to blink and break her intense stare. She was taken aback, but at the same time knew she could have expected such a retort from you after her comment. She straightened her posture as much as she could and closed her eyes for a few seconds before staring right back into yours again.

Tissaia stiffened her expression as she watched the encounter, eager to see what would happen next. But no other word was exchanged between the two of you, for the next forty minutes at least. It impressed her how both of you were managing to stay still and focused for so long.

Suddenly, you saw a flash of what you could only presume was the Yennefer's past— a tiny fire, a table surrounded by children, the smell of straw and... Yennefer being sold for nothing more but four marks, then being pushed into Tissaia's arms. You perhaps had not seen her biggest fear, but you had seen something that had elicited the same feeling.

Your heart clenched as you felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions hit you all of a sudden, and you realised it was what Yennefer had felt during the flitted memories you had seen. It wasn't an excuse for her harsh behaviour, but you could not help but feel sympathy at the newfound information.

"I'm sorry."

Yennefer licked her lips and tilted her head, confused, "Whatever for?"

You shook your head, not wanting to bring it up in a quiet room full of your classmates, or with rectoress De Vries's eyes burning in the side of your face, or perhaps just not at all.

Suddenly, you realised you didn't really know any of the girls sitting around you. You didn't know their deepest struggles, their biggest fears or their most openly wide gaping wounds. You didn't know much past their names or how far they were with their Chaos. But as you had caught a quick glance in what had only been an hour of Yennefer's life, you suddenly felt closer to any of them than ever. She was different, but all the same. You shared struggles, you shared pain and you shared a longing for a life that would never be again. She wanted to be loved, and you wanted your family back. The two weren't so different when you looked at it.

Your momentary lapse of focus had let the girl in front of you slip through the cracks of your mind, and you watched it happen before your eyes the second it did. You knew Yennefer hadn't seen or smelt any apple tarts this time, going by her startled expression.

"Your village was pillaged, they set it ablaze. You burned with it." She muttered stoically, matter-of-factly, and her face dropped the second you had regained focus and realised the severity of your predicament if she looked a little further. She'd heard the childlike laughter of your siblings, the feel of a horse's mane through your fingers, felt the parental love and then it had all been replaced by death. Yennefer felt guilty for sensing the slight pang of jealousy when she'd realised you'd had a big and loving family that had been your entire world, but it had disappeared as soon as she'd realised what you'd lost, what you'd seen and experienced.

Your chest heaved with the effort it took you to push her out again and to lock away the details of what she'd seen.

Abruptly, as if stung by a bee, Yennefer stood up and crossed the distance to where Tissaia was seated, puffing her cigar and hawk eyes already watching her.

"Y/N's biggest fear is fire."

All the girls broke their connections and stopped to watch. Tissaia stared at the girl in front of her, "Of course, the girl who came here almost burned to a crisp is afraid of fire. Anyone here could have made that assessment."

"Well, it is."

"Is it, pup?"

All eyes now went to you.

Yennefer was right, of course. But there was one thing you feared more than anything else, and the one thing that had come true. Hurting and losing the ones you love. But, perhaps, now that that fear had already happened, there was something else weighing heavily on you— you were afraid to have to tackle this life you had been thrown into alone. It scared you immensely.

"Is it really your greatest fear?

"No." And perhaps it really wasn't. Not anymore. Not after weeks spent working with fire.

"She's lying. I saw what I saw!" Yennefer's frustrated eyes flitted from Tissaia to you. She remembered what else she'd seen make an entrance into her mind, but had deemed insignificant then— cliffsides, the view from on top of towers and the fast beating of your fearful heart that came with it, "Heights. You're afraid of heights."

That's when you realised Yennefer had seen what you had wanted her to see. You had successfully warped her imagination and shown her whatever you had carefully created.

When you didn't say anything, Yennefer glanced back at Tissaia in a plea.

"You take weeks to lift a stone. You can't bend water. You struggle to perform the simplest physical tasks. And now you put me and my lesson to shame by making things up?"

Yennefer's resolve crumbled slightly under Tissaia's hard glare and crushing words, but it was what was said next that dealt the final blow.

"Your worst fear makes such sense. Even if you were a beauty, still, no one would love you."

Tissaia was right, of course, and perhaps it had been exactly the reason why Yennefer lay tossing and turning in bed later that night. She knew that the ugliness of her features had started to seep through to her personality as well, like some sort of shield to keep people from hurting her. If she was rude and brash, no one would realise how their words and stares would hurt. Surely they'd stop after coming to that realisation. And if she hurt them first, they would never dare hurt her in return. It was a play of dominance, a change she'd had to make after arriving at Aretuza, for leading with kindness had never worked out in her old life. Time and time again, her efforts at making friendships and helping villagers out, hovering around them so she wouldn't be alone and could pretend to be part of their conversations, had only ever resulted in harsh hand gestures, cursed words and turned backs to send her off. Which had then resulted in a scolding and beating from her step-father, who'd felt ashamed that the villagers had come complaining about his strange stepdaughter. Yennefer knew she wasn't lovable. And if she ever found someone willing to look past her deformities, they surely would wince and run when they'd realised how rotten she'd become on the inside as well.

Then she heard it— a set of soft knocks on her door. She'd almost played it off as a sound born from her sleep-deprived state, but no, someone was really knocking on her door. She kicked her sheets off in a huff, made it to the door and threw it open, ready to give them a piece of her mind. She had half expected one of her so-called friends to knock for some late-night gossip. And although the girl in front of her was a classmate, yes, she wasn't exactly a friend.

Taken by surprise, Yennefer's voice was small when she muttered, "Y/N?"

"You were right. I don't like fire." You pushed out, as if you could no longer bear to live with the deceit. "And I don't necessarily like heights either."

"Why couldn't you have said that when it mattered?"

Yennefer stared at you, brows furrowed, jaw locked and a clear mix of fury, defeat and annoyance etched into her features as you had been the one behind her humiliation when you'd kept silent.

You didn't have an answer to her question, so you stood there and watched her. She raised her brows, clearly waiting for whatever you'd knocked for to come out of your mouth.

"We weren't set out to like each other, were we?"

Yennefer snorted, opened the door further and walked off to the fireplace. It was a clear invitation to enter her room, so you took it. Her perceptive eyes watched as you approached, standing right beside her in front of the fireplace, hands tightly clasped together behind your back. You might have felt a little more confident around flames, but reaching out to warm your hands to them and risking letting your Chaos take over felt a little too daring.

"I did extend you an olive branch, or have you forgotten?"

"You couldn't have approached me at a worse time," You sighed, remembering the absolute horror you'd felt as the trauma of what had happened had still coursed through your veins when Yennefer had slipped into your room that very first night to introduce herself. "And your approach wasn't exactly tactile or peaceful either, but I've grown to accept that's just how you handle things— impetuous and direct."

Yennefer would've glared at you, had your tone not been soft instead of accusatory. You were merely stating the obvious without further judgment.

You added, somewhat amused, "I still think it wouldn't hurt to be a little kinder, though."

Yennefer nibbled her lip, taking your words into consideration. She looked back up at you, contemplating hard. Everything inside of her wanted her to push out a harsh retort so you would back off, but you weren't hurting her. Not really. You had come here, for her, to apologise. You weren't here to make fun of her, nor did you look at her differently whenever your eyes met hers. Nor did you ever gape at her hunched back or crooked jaw. And you weren't being rude to her, you were... merely pointing out her behaviour. It was a welcome feeling to be treated like a normal human being. To be judged for her actions and not for her looks.

"What if I were to ask again?"

It was quiet for a little while, only the cracking of the fire filling the silence. Yennefer felt her insecurity eat at her and was ready to take her words back when a gentle grin tugged at the corners of your mouth,

"I'll have to think about it."

Yennefer cracked the tiniest smile in return, feeling normal under your gaze. Then, you turned on your heel and she watched you walk towards the door. You lingered in the doorway,

"I'll see you at detention tomorrow. Somehow I just know tomorrow's the day we'll finally transfer water."

As you left, Yennefer was just as restless as before, but for the right reasons this time.

☾ ⋆*·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

[chaosandorder46]

Master fic list

I decided it was time to make a master list. 🤷‍♀️

Witcher

Tissaia/Yennefer centric

1. I’m OK, You’re OK (6108 words; uni AU)- Tissaia's anxiety is not under control. Yennefer totally gets it, and Triss is a therapist, because of course, she is.

2. And Then There Were Three (26,290 words; domestic fluff)-Tissaia and Yennefer are happily married, and want a child to complete their family. The process won't be easy, but they have each other and their ride or die friend group. Some fluff, some angst, and shenanigans arise on their journey.

3. Self Control (1,149 words; fluff and smut)- Dr. Tissaia de Vries has legendary self control. Unless Yennefer of Vengerberg is in the room.

4. Come to my Office, Please (3,123 words; Eventual smut)-A private message gets sent to the entire group and puts a series of events into action.

5. Stars Fell on Aretuza (1,210 words; hurt/comfort)-It's the first Ascension Ball since the Thanedd Coup, and the first in decades not coordinated by Tissaia de Vries.

6. You Mistake the Stars (31,647 words; whump)- Yennefer saw Vilgefortz as a way to get off of the pig farm, but ended up in a worse situation. When she casts an errant portal and ends up on the Isle of Thanedd, she meets a cast of characters that will change her life.

7. Such a Good Turkey (2,606 words, crack fic)- It's close to Thanksiving on The Continent and no one has any chill.

8. I Might Love You More than Coffee (46,484 words; fluff)- Yennefer is intrigued by a mysterious new regular at her coffee shop, The Lodge. I'm no barista, so I'm relying on my extensive coffee consumption experience for the details on this one.

9. Le Tits Now! (3,939 words; crack fic)-It's the holiday season and everyone is in various states of festiveness. Shenanigans to follow...

10. And I Swear My Breath Turned Silver the Day Your Hair Did (4,942 words; angst with a happy ending)-I've never really written a real fix it for the Thanedd Coup before. I pretty much just ignore it by writing modern AUs or insinuate that everything turned out ok.

This is a somewhat canon compliant (until it's not) fix it for the Thanedd Coup fall out. I've had it in progress for a while and seem to be having trouble working on my other fic until this one is done.

11. What’s Lost is not Lost…Keep Looking! (1,380 words; crack fic)-Ciri's beloved stuffy is missing. Tissaia and Yen are ready to go all Liam Neeson from Taken, but the answer may be closer than they think.

12. Now the Air I Tasted and Breathed (Has Taken a Turn) (WIP; angst with a happy ending)-Ok, so....remember the musical episode of Grey's Anatomy (Song beneath the song)? Um...this is the Witcher version of that. Kind of, though (in my imagination) the characters aren't singing, it's just a montage of scenes with the song playing. If you aren't familiar with Black by Pearl Jam, listening is a good pre-reading activity. :)

13. How did we get THIS way? (3,933 words; crack treated seriously) - An alternate version of Rinde if Tissaia had shown up a bit later. OR...Tissaia de Vries accidentally crashes an orgy.

14. Nothing Sweeter Than a Bitter Cup of Coffee (13,681 words; light angst and crack)-More coffee shop shenanigans ensue when Rita shares some news with Tissaia.

15. More Indelible than Ink (WIP, fluff)- Tissaia is the proprietor of deVries Ink and Paper Shop and leads a very quiet, normal life...that is until a stunning raven-haired tattoo artist walks into her store.

Sabrina/Triss centric

1. The Kids are Alright (5,399 words; mutual pining)-Sabrina breaks her arm badly teaching novices non-magical self defense. Rita and Triss help her and Triss uses her chaos. The healer becomes the patient and Rita is sick of their shit.

2. Downtime (1,034 words, PWP?)- Sabrina's office has a network downtime and she needs something (or someone) to do.

3. What We Lost at Sodden (8,858 words; hurt/comfort)- This is another Sodden Hill story with a focus on Sabrina and Rita's experiences. I feel like Sabrina was too OK, too soon after Sodden, and I would love to have seen more of Rita's experience being charged with holding down the fort, knowing her friends were fighting for, and losing their lives.

4. The Things I Regret (2,036 words; hurt/comfort)- Written on the the one year anniversary of my mom's death. We had a very complicated relationship and I've been surprised at how I've felt since she died, vs. how I thought I would feel. I also had lunch recently with a friend who has gone no-contact with her mother due to her refusal to acknowledge her childhood trauma. These human experiences are always so interesting to me...if a bit painful. So, why not write about it? 😁

So, once again poor Sabrina gets to be a stand in for therapy. I mainly chose her because of her conduit moment, we know she has some issues there. 😁

5. Put Out the Fire in Your Head and Lay With Me Tonight (2,226 words; fluff and smut)-Sabrina is exhausted and stressed. Triss helps her relax. This is all fluff with a little bit of smut and nearly no plot. Just like I like to write. 😈😍

6. Burnout (10,501 words; hurt/comfort)-Sabrina is burnt out and coping as only Sabrina can, which is to say, not at all.

7. Aretuza (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair) (1,465 words; tooth rotting fluff)- This is a snapshot of an Aretuza where they all live happily ever after, even if the novices are a bit ...incapable.

8. The world was on fire (and no one could save me but you) (22,760 words; angst with a happy ending)-IMO, this is the angstiest thing I've written, so be warned. None of the major characters die (I could never) but there is some death.

9. The 14th on the Hill (8,985 words; angst with a happy ending)-Another spin on Sodden, but this one pulls from book lore as well as Netflix lore and HCs.

Group shenanigans

1. Icks (1,116 words; crack fic)-Tissaia learns a new term. Everyone shares an ick in their relationship.

2. Triss’s Greenhouse (429 words; crack fic) -Tissaia needs to relax and Triss has something for that.

3. Beige Flags (770 words; crack fic)-Tissaia is slowly learning tik tok. She needs an explanation of beige flags.

4. Another Fic Where Triss is Stoned, but with Pokemon (965 words; crack fic)- This is a crack fic, but based on a real life conversation. No need to take this seriously. :) This is based on a video game called pal world That is essentially a rip off of pokémon... And they have guns.

5. Hanging Around (5,593 words, crack treated seriously)- Ok. I was inadvertently sent on a side quest to tell an important, and very serious story. It is based on the delightful video below which gave me several much needed laughs. This is set in the AUMC universe where Tissaia is a pathologist, Yennefer and Rita work in the hospitals PR department, Triss is a nurse and married to Sabrina, who manages the lab. The slides in question are stained blood and bone marrow which are used to microscopically diagnose blood disorders, such as leukemia. I think that is all the pre-reading needed.🤭

6. After Sodden (29,044 words; modern AU; slow burn?)- Ciri is an environmental activist, but accidentally commits a bit of eco-terrorism. She's now a fugitive and turns to Yennefer for help.This was inspired by a Tumblr prompt...I have taken a LOT of creative liberties here. (Read: I don't follow instructions well).

Wheel of Time

• I (Critically) Care A Lot (7,677 words; Hospital AU)- Moraine and Siuan have a tense working relationship. Or do they?

• You’re Going to Make Me…Late (8,493 words; hospital AU)-Siuan applies for a new job.

• I’d walk to the depths of a world down below (and demand to get back what some circumstance stole) (1,867 words; crack)-Siuan is dead, like...dead dead. And Moiraine has to go to The Underworld to get her back.

[starfirewildheart]

Wolf and the flame

Summary:

again many timeline changes and I'm making the story my bitch.

Word count: 2,694

Chapter 6

Several days had passed since their arrival at Kear Morhen. Naurel was feeling much better between Vesimer’s treatments and Triss’s healing sessions but the tests they ran on her blood only left them with more questions. Something was different about her blood and Triss was positive there was some sort of spell that was keeping her subdued that the sorceress couldn’t seem to break.

Geralt had spoken to Yen at length about his wish and what it meant and how he wasn’t her mate but she disagreed. She felt as drawn to him as Naurel did, though in different ways, and reminded him that there was magic involved. For her, it was more visceral and hungry. The three of them had many discussions and Naurel was still unsure. What if her feelings and Geralt’s feelings for her were forced from the magic Triss felt attached to her? What if once that was gone that Geralt wouldn't feel the same and she had let him push Yennefer away? She couldn’t be responsible for that. Ciri seemed to be getting closer to Yen as well. With Yen’s help, she was slowly starting to learn to control some of the chaos she’d discovered.

She sighed realizing she needed to clear her head for a bit and wandered outside of the keep into the snow. Walking into a clearing from the stone structures she looked out over the mountain. The structure itself was dilapidated but the view was beautiful. She gasped when she felt strong arms close around her waist. Even in the snow, she hadn’t heard his approach. “It’s freezing out here,” he rumbled as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“It’s beautiful though. It looks so peaceful and pure.” She turned to face him. “Why are you out in the cold?”

“Cold doesn’t bother me like it does humans. I was just practicing a bit,” he turned so she could see the tall posts he’d been on while sword training.

“You know, you should probably teach me to use one of those just in case I have to defend Ciri or myself. I mean I know you are her protector but in case you are fighting a larger beast I could at least maybe defend her from humans,” she explained.

He smiled at her. “I will keep you safe.”

“I know,” she nodded “but you also have to keep Ciri safe, Jaskier out of trouble and countless other random humans safe as well so that makes you stretched a little thin. I just thought I could take some pressure off of you if you didn’t have to worry about me.”

He could see the logic in what she was saying and knowing she could defend herself if he wasn’t around did sound like a good idea. He stepped over to a bag of supplies he’d brought out to practice with and pulled out a short sword that was fairly light before motioning her to him. “Swords are heavier than people realize and they get into trouble when they fight because they choose one that is too heavy. This is a short sword and a perfect weight and length for you,” he handed it to her.

She looked at the blade as he stepped behind her pressing against her back. She let him guide her body with his as he showed her how to properly swing and slash with it. At first, it felt really awkward and unnatural but after several repetitions, it became easier and more fluid. He moved from behind her and sat down on one of the log benches as he watched her. “I feel like an idiot slashing and stabbing at the air,” she laughed. “Are you teasing me or is this real training?”

“It’s real,” he grinned, “and you are doing wonderfully.”

She continued practicing the few moves he’d shown her over and over until she got them perfect. It wasn’t until she heard him say her name that she noticed how low the sun was getting in the sky. “Come inside and get warm. You’ve been practicing for hours.”

“Wow I didn’t even notice how late it was getting,” she said as she shook some of the snow from her hair which seemed frozen to her head. They gathered the training supplies and went inside.

“Careful with that sword girl,” Lambert teased. “You might hurt someone with it.”

“That’s the idea, right?” she grinned and winked at Geralt who was helping her out of her wet cloak and moving her near the fire.

“Only if you know how to use it,” Lambert chuckled.

“You stab them with the pointy end, right?” she smirked. Coen, Geralt, Vesimer, and Eskel laughed.

“Smartass,” he huffed in her direction before tucking into his bowl of stew.

Vesimer motioned them over to his table to join him. Geralt noticed the look of unease he had. “What troubles you?”

“We have exhausted every book and paper that we have here and we can’t find anything on the discrepancies in Naurel’s blood and Triss has had no luck in trying to remove the magic that is plaguing her.”

“And,” Naurel asked after a long pause.

“I think you should go see Nenneke. At the very least she might be able to help with the magic but I suspect she will know more bout what is going on with Naurel’s blood than we have been able to find. She might also be able to help with Ciri.”

“Who is Nenneke?” Naurel asked.

Geralt explained about the priestess and her abilities and agreed seeing her would be wise. They made plans to go the next day. Triss was going to open a portal for them then she had to go back to Aretuza for a while. Yennefer had heard Geralt and Ciri talking about the trip and knew she had to act quickly if she was ever going to regain her powers.

Yennefer waited until Geralt was in a different part of the keep before she approached Naurel and Ciri, who were sitting around the fire in the dining hall talking to Jaskier who was working on a song.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asked as he saw Yennefer approach. Something was off about her. He wasn’t a fan of Yen’s any day but today she seemed particularly shifty. Watching as she approached them in almost a run, he stood.

Naurel sensed something wrong as well and moved in front of Ciri. “Get Geralt,” she whispered to the girl. For once Ciri didn’t argue.

Yennefer threw down the vial and opened the portal. “Guess you’ll have to do,” she sighed as she shoved Naurel through the opening and followed behind her, kicking out at Jaskier as he tried to grab her but he ended up tumbling through with them.

“YENNEFER!” Geralt roared as he and several of his brothers ran toward the portal as it faded.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Naurel hit the ground hard and everything in her stomach came up and spilled. She was vaguely aware of voices and hands grabbing her as she was bound to a chair. “Who the fuck are you?” Yennefer demanded. She was not at the hut where the potion was supposed to take her but in some tavern in a grungy little town.

“My identity isn’t important,” the man smirked. “All you need to know is that my plan has worked perfectly. Your selfish desire to regain your power no matter the cost has worked in my favor.”

“What do you have to do with this? The deathless mother is in control of my destiny!”

“The deathless mother is a demon imprisoned by the first withchers. Her only goal is to be set free and she will twist and contort whoever’s mind she needs to so that she gets what she needs. You were the fool who believed what she said, nothing more.” He looked a Yennefer in pity, “Volith Mier would never have given you your chaos back. She only feeds.”

“No!” Yennefer hissed. It couldn’t be true. She had risked everything for this just as she had to try and recover her womb.

“Why would I help you witch? Did you believe that Volith Meir would give you a potion for a portal? Please everyone knows the only way to her hut is with her little poem,” the man sneered as he tied Jaskier to another chair. “I wanted you to bring the girl to me. I don’t care about you losing your chaos,” he laughed. “You’re worthless without magic. I wanted the girl but if you couldn’t bring her then she,” he ran his hand over Naurel’s cheek, “is the next best thing. Geralt will come for her and he will have the girl with him. He won’t trust anyone with her after your betrayal.”

“No,” Yen whispered, tears filling her eyes. What had she done?

“Geralt has no way of knowing where we are so he won’t find us,” Naurel snapped at the man. “Your plan will fail!”

“I promise,” he leaned in next to her face, his breath was horrible, “word of your torture will spread quickly my dear.” He said as he snapped his fingers. Naurel gasped as flames flew from them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jaskier shivered as the flames bit at his chest again. It had been nearly two weeks since their hell had begun and it showed no signs of ending anytime soon. It started out as questions about Geralt and Ciri. Where they were, what they knew about the girl and her abilities, did they know who she was? The longer they were there the less they were questioned. He was just hurting them and it was like the bastard was just getting off on their screams. Jaskier cringed when the fire fucker picked up a hot poker from the fire but he didn’t come for him, he turned to Naurel.

“No,” she shook her head. The burns were the worst. The smell that lingered the pain and discomfort that lasted even after it was over. He held the iron poker just above her skin, teasing her. “I’m going to watch him rip your fucking heart out!” she growled as the poker got closer to her thigh. Trying to control her breathing so she could ride out the pain was a lost cause. She was exhausted, thirsty, starving, covered in filth, and had no idea where she was. She spent all the energy she had glaring at Yennefer who refused to even lift her head and look her in the eyes. Yennefer who, short of being bound and starved like her and Jaskier, was unscathed. She was drawn back to her current situation by the white-hot pain against her skin as she screamed. The smell of her own flesh burning turned her stomach. She must have passed out because she woke to Jaskier calling her name.

“Melitele, I thought I’d lost you,” he sighed when she began to stir.

“Not that easy to get rid of me bard,” she tried to lighten the mood.They had bonded during their captivity offering each other the comfort of words and simply knowing they weren’t alone in all of this. While they couldn’t physically care for each other they would offer the other a distraction of stories or corny jokes to try and take the others mind off the pain. Jaskier was looking worse everyday and as much as he tried to hide it she was sure some of his wounds were infected. They were running out of time but at least they wouldn’t die alone.

“I have been thinking..”

“I knew I smelled something burning,” she teased.

“Oh that’s just wrong,” he frowned. “Anyway… he’s been going nearly a full day before portling back in now. Maybe I can break the chair somehow and use something to cut us free.”

“That sounds like a half-assed plan,” she chuckled weakly. “Don’t do something that will get you killed Jaskier, please. I wouldn’t survive without you here. Besides, we’ve tried breaking the chairs before.”

Before he could say anything Yennefer jerked and her hands came free. She was on her feet. She grabbed a bottle and broke it using the glass to cut them loose before they could even process what had happened. “We have to move now!” she demanded and they all headed for the door.

Naurel and Jaskier helped each other as much as they could and they made a straight shot toward the woods hoping for some sort of cover. As it turned out, luck was not on their side, ever, because several men rode toward them yelling for them to stop.

The men jumped off their horses and tackled Naurel and Jaskier to the ground, Yennefer, uninjured, ran toward the woods. They fought with all they had, Naurel landing several decent blows but a punch to the temple dropped her. Three of the men held her down and started kicking her.

Jaskier had never been a fighter but he swung with everything he had left in an attempt to break free. He managed a small victory shout when he saw blood gushing from one man’s nose but was soon overtaken by the other two. They held his arms behind his back while the bloodied man punched him in the stomach repeatedly. He looked up to see Yennefer coming back toward them with a big stick.

“Jaskier!” Naurel cried out. She heard horses and yelling then saw a sword gleaming through the air dispatching one of the soldier’s head from his body. The other was quickly kicked away from her and then she saw it. Her witcher, his white hair, and leather armor as he fought his way to her.

Jaskier was let go and fell to the ground as the dwarves jumped from a wagon and started attacking the men who were assaulting him. He’d never been so happy to see those tiny, grumpy little bastards before in his life!

Once all of the attackers had been dealt with Geralt knelt to check on Naurel and Jaskier. “I’m so glad to find you alive.”

“How did you find us,” she hugged him tight as he helped her to her feet.

“We have been checking every report of someone being held prisoner or tortured since you were taken. We just heard about a fire mage torturing people in Oxenfurt and came to check it out on our way to Aretuza.” He reached down and helped Jaskier to his feet putting an arm around each of them helping them to the wagon the dwarves had brought.

“Take them to the temple,” he told them.

“Wait no, I’m not letting you leave me Geralt!” Naurel panicked.

“Shhh my love,” he soothed and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I have to kill a monster then I promise I will be there. Nennenke will be able to heal you and you will be safe there. There is no violence in the temple.”

“But..” she argued.

“Naurel,” he cupped her face in his hands and rested their foreheads together. “Please, my heart, I need to know you are safe.”

“I’m safe with you,” she couldn’t hide her emotions and tears were streaming down her face.

“You can’t go with me to do this. Promise you that I will be there as soon as I can,” he placed a soft kiss on her lips before lowering her to lay back on the straw in the back of the wagon. He covered her and Jaskier with a thick quilt pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s as well. “I will come for you both.”

The dwarves watched the scene play out not used to seeing emotion from Geralt. “Your woman?” Yarpin asked.

Yen chose that moment to move which earned her a sword to the neck. Geralt turned and stared her down. “Mine,” he snarled at her then turned to Yarpin, “She is mine.”

The dwarf nodded and called for his men to mount up as they headed toward the temple.

Geralt glared at Yennefer, not lowering his sword. “Say it,” he demanded.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

[flowers-shouldnt-die]

Tochter aus Elysium - Vol. 2

Chapter 1

Pairing: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Sabrina Glevissig/Triss Merigold

Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold, Sabrina Glevissig, Philippa Eilhart, Margarita Laux-Antille, Stregobor (The Witcher), Artorius Vigo, i could just tag the whole cast individually

Additional Tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Hurt/Comfort, One Big Happy Family, Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Happy, hands down my fav tag, Vilgefortz isnt evil in this bc Tissaia deserves happiness and a good dick, okay he starts an evil but like i couldnt care less

Series: Part 3 of Is This Happiness?

Summary: My contribution to the teeny tiny Tissaia bang this year. It's a full circle now, guys.

Original shitsow: The only thing worse than being betrayed by the man you loved is realizing you are carrying his child and almost losing it because of the pain he caused.

Okay, so forget that. She is still pregnant, but this is the totally, i swear to God, not au ooc happy family version:)

In another life, Tissaia had a dream. Such an unbelievable, heartbreaking dream. She turned in her bed and curled up to Vilgefortz. He had returned after she had fallen asleep. She heard in the back of her mind what was whispered in her dream. She had no idea why, but she made her decision. She planned to wait until all the craziness calmed down, but now she knew, felt it in her bones what she had to do.

In the morning, after he woke, he was greeted with a radiant smile from her. She kissed him, and he wondered what got her into such a mood. He would have never guessed what Tissaia said next.

“Vilgefortz… I’m pregnant.”

-

In countless years, centuries even, time loses its meaning. She let them fly by, and not even the changing of the Continent made it feel real. Until she came. Now, every day felt like it was going too fast, and she couldn't get enough of every single second. Life used to be banal; one way or another, everything was the same: the kings fought, people died, politics were played behind the shadows, and she knew how it would end before it even began. 

She did have her bright spots in life, however passing and painful. As their mentor and friend, she cherished her memories with them, with her especially, but sooner or later they were all gone. Gone with the wind, if they were lucky. She refused to get too attached, or at the very least, refused to show it. That was until everything crumbled, the world as she knew it burned, and from the ashes of the past came a future so bright she feared it might blind her.

Life became a drug, and she was addicted. She had a lust to live, to experience it, and not just watch it from her Ivory Tower. It was so cliché. She never wanted this; she went out of her way to prevent it for all of her girls for a reason. She has heard the saying that her heart would beat outside of her body from the first time she held the life she made in her arms. No one could ever accuse her of being sentimental, and yet she felt the slow and steady shift in her soul. When she looked back at what was and who she had been, it felt like watching a stranger with her face and voice. All the pain that led her to this point was a necessary evil, and for the first time since she was a girl, she chose to be happy.

-

As shock was overthrown by panic and panic was overthrown by something he never felt before, he smiled, let out a shaky breath, and kissed her. This would definitely change things. So many things he couldn't even begin to imagine. But Tissaia was still looking at him with a shy smile and uncertainty in her eyes.

Vilgefortz murmured softly, “This-this is wonderful. Are you certain?” 

Tissaia nodded and let her fears surface. “What are we going to do? If the council finds out-” He cut her off and shook his head.

“We’ll worry later,” caressing her face, he pressed his forehead against hers. “This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.”

And it really was. He felt something he never thought he was capable of. It scared him but cleared his mind. He decided to do as he said and hugged his beloved, caressing her back gently and kissing her hair. The worries could come after they got out of bed, or even after that. Right that moment, only they existed. He would make the appropriate changes to his plans. He refused to lose Tissaia now and refused to lose their child. Even he wasn’t sure why, just the previous night he was ready to let it all go. How a small thing changes everything. Or maybe this wasn’t small; maybe this was bigger than they could ever comprehend.

-

Elysia blew the sand from her hand and it turned into tiny butterflies in the wind. Their wings carried them higher and higher, until they disappeared between the trees. The young girl laughed in that special way only children could. Her voice still had the innocence and wonder people lost while growing up. She was still full of life and curiosity, her uncontainable energy clear as day as she ran around in the forest, yet mindful of never getting out of her mother’s sight. She was barely five years old and already just like…

“Just like you.” Tissaia turned to face Yennefer, her eyebrows arched instead of voicing her question. She didn’t notice when the young sorceress arrived and she had no idea how long she had been watching them. “She scolded the birds for being too loud. Already a little control freak.” She smirked, then added, “Although a sweet one.”

“In her defense, they were loud.” The brunette turned back to her daughter and let out a shaky breath. Yen followed her gaze, and smiled softly as she saw the little firecracker trying to reach for a mushroom that grew on a tree. It was just out of her reach and when even jumping couldn’t help, she called for her mother to help her. Tissaia picked her up and let her examine it but didn’t let her get it off of the tree’s trunk. The little girl made a disappointed face that was so much like her mother’s, Yennefer found it almost uncanny. So many things about them were uncanny, if she was honest with herself. But over the years, seeing the two of them so happy together made her forget about all the uneasy feelings she had, most of the time.

Even when her father came back with the druids and the little girl ran into his arms. Vilgefortz picked her up and threw her high up in the air. Elysia was laughing, and Tissaia scolded him to be careful. Yen had a hard time getting over everything, and she figured the ex Rectoress had an even harder one. Maybe time does heal all wounds; maybe she shouldn't let it get to her so much, maybe-. She didn’t know and just huffed. 

How could Tissaia just act like this? The girl was fine; she got over that, but Vilgefortz… She put up with him for the sake of her mother, and to be fair, Tissaia never asked her for anything more. She had Ciri and Geralt so she understood to a degree even though so many lines were crossed, the purple-eyed sorceress wondered if they were even there in the first place.

She watched as the druids knelt down and touched Elysia’s hand. The girl definitely were odd, Yen could relate to that. They both stood out for reasons beyond their control. Her little sister - it was still strange to call her that - clearly was born with a magic that was similar to the druids. No one had a real idea where that came from, but considering that Vilgefortz’s bloodline was mostly a mistery, Ely might have gotten it from him. He was raised by druids after all.

Nature or nurture - Yen wondered. She didn’t think Ely would become like her father was before she was born. But then again, who would have thought that young little Vilg would become that.

“Yenny, look,” she ran and gave her a small brach with cherry blossom on it. “Pretty, pretty flowers.”

She thanked her and ruffled her hair. The girl made flowers bloom from a dead tree branch.

-

The day she decided to enter the world was a blur of pain and blood. In the late morning hours she felt the first sensation of pain in her lower abdomen. She paid it no mind, it wasn’t unusual for her to feel uncomfortable during the late stages of her pregnancy. However, by noon she needed help to get back to her room. Tissaia never imagined her birthing experience would be witnessed by so many, but then again, she never imagined having one at all. All of her friends, who have truly become her family in the last few months, were there, supporting her. Despite the looks he got, Vilgefortz stood next to her, holding her hand. Tissaia and he had a talk, and while agreeing that the possibility of another unplanned pregnancy was real, they decided to have only one baby. It was one more than they planned anyway, so he refused to not witness the birth of his only child. 

When her water broke, it surprised her that it’s not only the water that comes out. Blood also poured from her and if it weren’t for her friends reassurance, she probably would have panicked. He helped her get into any and every comfortable position she requested, whispering encouragements and telling her she was doing so great. Minutes turned into hours and her baby refused to show its face to the world. Tissaia was screaming in the end as sweat glistened on her body. Her face was flushed and breathing became difficult amidst the jolts of pain. The sun disappeared a long time ago and she wondered if their baby and him were playing tricks on her. Their child was already as stubborn as he was and it terrified her.

The moment she felt her baby leave her body was a relief but despite the end of her torment, she felt oddly empty.

“It’s a girl!” Yennefer beamed with joy. It was a rare sight and Tissaia couldn’t take her eyes off of them, as she walked up to her with the baby safely wrapped in a blanket in her arms. When she finally held her daughter she couldn’t help the tears that escaped her eyes. The little girl had a shock of black hair and when she opened her eyes for a moment Tissaia’s breath got caught in her throat. The same eyes she had fallen for in every sense of the word looked back at her. Her sweet little baby girl had her father’s eyes and she felt this was his final act of capturing her heart. “She looks just like you!” Yen continued smiling like she never did before. Tissaia slowly shook her head but her raven haired friend insisted. “She has your face, your nose, her mimics already… she looks like you, Tissaia.”

Vilgefortz agreed, despite the baby’s soft tan, dark hair, and deep eyes. “She truly looks like you, my love.” He sat next to them on the bed and kissed her, then gently caressed the newborn’s face with his fingers. He embraced Tissaia as she was holding their baby, and she leaned back onto him.

She looked down at her daughter once more, and she had to admit, she saw some resemblance between them. The baby made a soft sound and she couldn’t help but smile. Her fear evaporated the longer she looked at the tiny bundle. She kissed the top of her newborn’s head and gently caressed her face. The love she felt for her while pregnant multiplied and in that moment, Tissaia de Vries never felt more at peace, more at home.

This one for my sweet lil sis @mtg-is-life-frf

[craybii]

Musings on Tissaia & Francesca at Thanedd

Just finished S3 and can I just say, these two badasses were the standouts of the Thanedd Coup for me.

The unspoken equality between them as Tissaia stands on one side with all the mages behind her and Francesca, the elven queen directly across from her with the Nilfgaardians and the elves.

The way they look at no one else but each other before it all goes to hell, each woman knowing that the other one is the largest danger and threat there - Tissaia representing the human mages of the new order and Francesca representing the ancient order of the times when elven mages built Aretuza.

Finally, the epic moment when Tissaia prepares a deadly spell to kill Francesca (when Tissaia was the very same woman insisting Francesca was not their enemy in S2 while Stregobor and the Brotherhood were losing their shit over the elven exodus to Cintra).

And then the moment it all climaxes in a tragic trade of sorts - Tissaia destroys what Francesca loves most (Filavandrel) in front of her very eyes, so Francesca destroys and burns down what Tissaia loves most (Aretuza). All the other sorceresses - Rita, Sabrina, Keira, Triss, Fringilla, Marti, even Yennefer - are secondary to these two ladies in that moment - truly hell hath no fury like a sorceress scorned for these two proved it then and there. 

And then, once Aretuza is in flames thanks to Francesca, how Tissaia falls into a numb state of sorts - she climbs the tower to resort to the most dangerous and life-draining spell known to mankind to destroy the elven invaders she once defended. This spell destroys everyone and everything - all the northern mages flee out of the way - only Francesca (and Fringilla) stays to fend off the lightning. Finally, when Tissaia can no longer keep up, the moment is perfect when all the northern sorceresses step in front of Francesca, making it clear she will not get to Tissaia so long as they live.

Ultimately, all the sorcerers were good - Rita who stayed there from start to end and defended Tissaia - Marti and Sabrina who destroyed people left and right and Bianca, Tissaia’s poor friend. But Tissaia and Francesca’s magic was by far the most epic of the entire battle. The absolute sheer destruction was amazing to watch. And the way they clearly targetted each other throughout the battle was perfect.

You know what the saddest thing is in the end? - in the books, few people were as close to Tissaia as Francesca was - here, they are mortal enemies instantly.

Side-note: I love how Philippa starts up shit and then escapes the moment it all goes to hell lmao

[cerealbishh]

"This is our chance, Yen. We can get him for everything he's done."

[thelostgirl21]

(Edit: Someone pointed out I'd mixed up Francesca and Triss! My apologies!)

Okay, but should we... worry that Dijkstra and Emhyr switched seats at some point during the reading or...?

I mean, does it actually mean anything? Are we supposed to be concerned about that?

They had seemed to start the reading by sitting everyone with who they were last seen with in S3, or "thematically", at least, somehow...

With Yennefer being where she is because she's part of the main cast, and they needed people to see how she and the new Geralt looked together, I guess!

Otherwise, you have Jaskier next to Geralt and Milva; and since Regis is at the end of the table I'm guessing they kept things a bit more Hansa or Hansa-mission related on that side...

Ciri next to Yennefer with her new girlfriend and the Rats on the other side...

Radovid sitting opposite Jaskier (a bit to his left, I think) with the Redanian Intelligence...

Vilgefortz next to Philippa with Triss and the Lodge of Sorceresses... So Yennefer and Ciri are sitting in front of a wall of the mages...

Then, suddenly, Philippa's flanked by... Vilgefortz (that was already there) and Emhyr Var Emreis (ah... where the fuck did you come from)?!?!?!

Did they start S5's reading, and had some actors "relocate" accordingly?

Did Philippa have a falling out with Dijkstra?

More importantly, where's Radovid? And who's looking after him now?

You had one job, Dijkstra! (Although, no offense, Radovid might be better off without you... Not sure, however, that the fucking Emperor of Nilfgaard is a better replacement! I wouldn't exactly trust him to have the King of Redania's best interest to heart, let me put it that way...)

[cybernecromancer365]

A.N. TW: For self-exit references. When I feel depressed my writing follows suit. Apologize for any mistakes. This is really just something random I wrote.

------

They stood outside Tissaia's door. A whole day had passed and then some. Sabrina stood with her arms crossed, Margarita beside her, and Triss in front of them. Triss gathered them to check on Yennefer. They knocked on the door a few times but never got a response.

"How long will she stay in there?"

"However long she has to." Margarita spoke where Triss ignored the conversation, the red-head staring at the door and preparing another knock.

"Never thought Tissaia would do something like that. Especially not over a man." Sabrina said the latter part almost under her breath.

"It's not about Vilgefortz. It's about Aretuza. You know that." Margarita corrected her with a healthy dose of side-eye.

Triss knocked and they waited for a response. "Yennefer...please come out. At least walk with us for a few moments."

Nothing.

"You still need to eat." Triss waited, then sighed.

"She'll find us when she's ready." Margarita squeezed Triss’s shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

------------------------------

Tissaia was going to hate her. There would be hell to pay for taking away the one thing Tissaia valued the most, control.

They did it for a reason. Aretuza couldn’t afford to lose its rectoress, and neither could she.

The evening sun slowly faded from Tissaia's room. Yennefer watched the open window opposite them with a hollow look in her violet eyes. Her tears dried hours ago, and her anger simmered until only a vague haze of sorrow remained.

The room was silent. A breeze wafted in, and Yennefer lay still. She hadn't uttered a word in hours. She hadn’t the energy to even hear herself talk. It all went to the Rectoress resting beneath the bedcovers.

The marks on Tissaia's wrists had healed to angry red scars. It was the best they could do for now. They'd all exhausted their chaos to bring Tissaia back.

Yennefer stroked Tissaia's pale cheek with her thumb, touching the Rectoress as though she were delicate glass. Her tears gathered each time she thought of the moments before the ceremony.

'You lied to me. Why?'

That thought stayed on her mind as she replayed their last moments incessantly, containing her emotion behind an unsteady frown.

Her world came crashing to a halt when she felt the searing pain in her wrists. It took her by surprise.

Her heart pounded, and a dangerous pang split it in two as she ran across Aretuza as fast as she could with her wrists still on fire. Her hands were numb when she reached the room.

She was grateful the others were close behind her. They started on Tissaia immediately.

"We need you too."

Triss pulled her out of her horror.

------------

Bringing Tissaia back took hours, and now all she could do was watch Tissaia breathe. The process of coming back was naunced and different for everyone. But as long as Tissaia was breathing, their part was done.

The center of her chest still ached as she recovered from the shock that left her tired and drained. The soreness under her ribcage throbbed with every inhale.

Their minutes were precious after she found Tissaia lying on the floor of her room with pools of blood under her wrists.

She had no time until now to lament over Tissaia’s choice, ruminating over a thousand what ifs.

Tissaia fooled her with a smile. She left the room, reassured by the gentle look in Tissaia's eyes. Strength had returned to them, or so she thought.

Now, their final hug haunted her. She welcomed it then and needed it more than she thought. Tissaia clung to her more than ever, and it chilled her to realize why. For Tissaia, that hug was their last. She couldn't have known, and that was exactly how Tissaia wanted it.

Yennefer's brow tensed.

What a cruel way to leave her. Tissaia had to know the horror she'd face in finding her.

Tissaia’s letter lay on the nightstand opposite them. Yennefer skimmed it once and couldn't read it again. Reading it the first time was hard enough.

She couldn’t believe a note would’ve been all of Tissaia she had left. It would’ve haunted her for the rest of her life as it did now.

The pain Tissaia must’ve felt...

Yennefer stroked the white hair under her palm as the Rectoress' color returned.

Tissaia was the strongest of them all. They needed her.

She wouldn't return to Ciri yet. Ciri had Geralt, and it was a good thing she did. They'd understand.

Yennefer closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the pillow, keeping Tissaia close, her hand resting on warm skin.

'I'm not ready to lose you.'

[blood-inthefields]

Summary of all my Yennefer/Tissaia fanfics so far...

♠ All we are (is dust in the wind) ¬ It takes four days for Tissaia to find Yennefer after the battle of Sodden.

♠ Pynk (is where it all starts) ¬ In which hot-shot lawyer Tissaia de Vries unknowingly walks into a strip-club and finds herself hypnotized by one of the dancers there. Not how she’d planned her evening to go.

♠ Get naked (i got a plan) ¬ The phone rang, drawing her attention. With a sigh, she picked it up. “Phil, is that you?” Distorted by the line, a muffled voice answered her. “Johnny got clipped.” Tissaia’s hand balled into a fist. “You know what to do,” she replied curtly. The line went dead. She hung up, ran a hand through her hair. A bath would do her good. And then she would go find Yennefer. 

1920s AU.

♠ I’m your sinner (and your whore) ft. JZXR7 ¬ Due to circumstances entirely beyond Tissaia’s control (Yennefer. Due to Yennefer), she’s found herself trapped in her bedroom with a human whirlwind during a minor pandemic.

She has decided, in all her collected wisdom as Rectoress, that the girl has ten minutes to stop talking before Tissaia takes drastic measures.

♠ Want you, yes i do (bet you never knew it) ¬ The first time that Yennefer considers throwing Tissaia on a bed is in Rinde.

♠ I’ll be loving you (til the end of the night) ¬ Tissaia comes home after a hard day at work to find that her girlfriend has a couple of surprises in store.

♠ The one where Tissaia is a freestyle dance teacher ¬ “It’s Tissaia,” Triss told her, concern evident in her voice.

“What’s with her?”

Now closer to the window, Yennefer leaned forwards and watched as her former mentor, way down below, was shaking her arms and upper body in very strange ways. Had the woman finally lost it?

♠ I will let you down (i will make you hurt) ¬ She feels the blade against her throat before she’s even done with her sentence. Tissaia remains calm, despite the cold metal piercing the skin ever so lightly. Something warm runs down her pale skin and she knows it’s blood. Still, her eyes never leave Yennefer’s.

“Why,” Yennefer begins, almost shouting, as she stalks forward until she’s all up in Tissaia’s face. “Why did you let them send me to Nilfgaard?”

♠ My immoral ft. thinkbucket ¬ What’s up preps, I’m Yennefer Fireball Darkness Purple Mist Vengerberg and I’m a teacher at Aretuza.

or, a parody of legendary fanfiction My Immortal.

♠ Didn’t wanna believe it (but now you are all I see) ¬ It’s on their third date that everything goes to shit. In hindsight Tissaia should have known crushing hard on the whirlwind that is Yennefer would mean her life would be turned upside down. However, she had never imagined it would land her in jail.

♠ And now the surface ripples ¬ She’s been scouring the Continent, desperate for a cure for her barrenness when word reaches her.

Tissaia de Vries is dead.

♠ Find my place (in the warmth of your embrace)¬ A look at some entries of Tissaia’s diaries about her ever-evolving relationship with Yennefer.

♠ Stay a while (and be mine) ¬  Post Sodden Hill, Yennefer and Tissaia are back at Aretuza. One night changes their relationship forever.

♠ After hours ¬ Could the torture be any worse? Yennefer wondered. It was bad enough to have to spend entire days with Tissaia stuck in a classroom together with noisy, dirty children but being around her after the day was over and the children and other teachers had left was pure torture.

♠ Wanna kiss you (til I lose my breath)¬ The woman is not just a powerful sorceress, she’s an absolute witch and Yennefer tries to hide but it feels pointless. One look from Tissaia and she becomes an open book.

♠ I will reach for you (when you’re feeling low) ¬ Set in 2.03 after Yennefer shows up at Aretuza and gives Tissaia a gay heart attack.

They know, they all know what Yennefer means to her, how long she’s spent trying to find her.

♠ I used to float (now I just fall down) ¬ Post 3.08. Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.

Then the pain came.

Sharp, burning, unexpected.

Yennefer gasped.

♠ For neither ever nor never (goodbye) ¬ Missing scene from 3.08. Drabble.

[yennefer-x-tissaia]

Yennaia bits in ep 3.04

We start off the ep with Yen debasing herself in front of...the Council? Idk. Triss, Sabrina and Rita are there and they definitely weren’t on the council before. But they lost people at Sodden so it might be for all we know.

She’s talking about throwing a party organising a conclave to unite the mages of the North and she starts we-ing.

(The subtitles are wrong - some other dude asks ‘Who is ‘we’?’)

And of course we know who ‘we’ is.

The rest of them are like ‘no shit’.

Yen then goes on to apologise and beg forgiveness.

And she does a bit more quoting from self-help books, which amuses Tissaia.

The Council(?) are won over and everyone bashes their hands on the arms of their chairs and a party it is!

Sabrina and Rita are tasked with hand writing the invitations (surely mages can just magic these things up?? Seems a lot of effort. But it’s fun imagining them bitching about this low level job they’ve been given while Tissaia and Yen swan about and giggle together.

Tissaia compliments Yen on her political acumen.

Yen’s like ‘It’s just being a selfish arsehole in a different way, of course I’m good at it.’.

Tissaia sees through this overly sincere politician talk and tells Yen she can drop the act now and it’s actually delightful to see Yennefer relax into herself.

They laugh and grasp at each other and it’s genuinely lovely for them to have this moment together.

Then Yennefer notices Tissaia’s new jewellery and somehow knows ‘this is new’ despite not having seen Tissaia since a month after Sodden.

We get another close up on the bracelet of doom, so we definitely know it’s going to go off in the third act.

I wish this laughter was because they both knew he was a dick and that they were playing him. Alas, we have to conclude that Yen is thrilled that Tissaia is getting some from her new daddy.

However, it gives us this moment of herlooking at Tissaia with unadulterated affection, so I will take it.

Tissaia makes a comment that we can all relate to.

Yes, Tissaia, we all are. And we get some exposition about Philippa and Tissaia being close, despite this never having been mentioned or alluded to before.

Tissaia looks at Yen’s chest sad and wistful.

Yen is probably wondering why Tissaia has all these grudges with other mages and Yen herself gets forgiven instantly for everything. She makes a joke to lighten the mood and Tissaia is amused again.

(Then there’s a bit with Triss about the novices going missing that I’m trying to repress because unless Tissaia’s under some sort of mind control, then her flippancy about girls going missing is infuriating.)

As with the conversation about Yen coming home, Vilgefortz takes part in another scene that only emphasises how much Yennefer means to Tissaia. He challenges Yennefer’s presence at Aretuza and she’s cheeky about it.

But she changes her tune when he brings up Tissaia.

Yen is clearly sincere in her reactions to what he’s saying about her impact on Tissaia.

(Of course it’s infuriating that we know he’s the one with the agenda and is going to hurt Tissaia, but nice to see Yen get to hear this stuff.)

Yen couldn’t lie to Tissaia if she tried 🥺

“I know you to your core. Your pain my pain.” 🥺😭

When I first watched this, I wondered if we were going to get an inkling that Yen might be suspicious of Vilgefortz in return, and tell him that if he hurts Tissaia, she’ll make Sodden look like a back garden barbecue on a wet weekend. But she seems to have been taken in as badly as Tissaia.

God that one hurts.

Sigh.

Very true, Vilgefortz. We all wanted her to be an arsehole to you. It’s far more comforting.

Anyway, Yen goes to visit Tissaia’s ex Philippa to invite her to the party.

On her return, her portal goes weird and she is attacked and ends up on the floor of the Council room, where Triss and Sabrina find her.

Yen: on the floor, panting and bleeding Sabrina:

(That’s not Yennaia related at all, I just heart Sabrina so much)

Anyway, Triss implies that Yennefer should be careful who she trusts and that bringing Ciri to Aretuza isn’t a good idea.

Probably because Tissaia’s been acting like a pod person around her and also told Vilgefortz stuff last season that she wasn’t supposed to. But Yen takes it the wrong way and storms out. 

And we see them all get ready for the party, and that’s the end.

[astaldis]

Issue no 32 - Kneeling: Everything I do

@whumpers-monthly

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Whumpee: Cahir

Relationships: Cahir & Ciri, Cahir & Yennefer, Cahir & Jaskier, Jaskier & Yennefer

Rating: M

Warnings: GDoV

Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold, Isengrim Faoiltiarna, Cahir's horse

Words: 14,592; Chapters: 6/6

Excerpt from Chapter 1: My life is yours

"Princess, I've dreamt of this moment," he says, his voice husky with sudden emotion. A confusing mix of emotions he could not put a name to if his life depended on it. She charges at him.

"No!" Cahir calls out, but, from his dreams, he knows she will not stop. He has his sword out of its sheath within a split second. Not to harm her, to defend himself from her righteous fury. There are things he wants to tell her before she ends him. He cannot let her kill him yet.

Their swords meet, the blades clang against each other. She hacks at him with vicious force, incredibly good for a girl her age. She must have trained hard to be prepared for the day she would meet him in the field. For today. Now they are here, their swords clashing. Cahir has to fall back further and further to evade her blows, every backward step bringing him closer to the edge of the cliff.

"I do not wish to fight you!" he eventually shouts, lowering his sword and sinking it into the ground. Maybe she will not, but he has to try to stop her for a moment so she will listen to him.

"Pick it up!" she screams at him. "Pick it up!" If looks could kill, he would be dead already. 

She comes at him with raised sword, breathing hard from the fight. Like in his dreams, no, nightmares. The tip of her blade is almost in his face as she pushes him and grabs him by the rim of his breastplate's collar, her face a mask of fury. She forces him to lean back, precariously close to the cliff.

"Why?" Her hand holding him by his armour is all that keeps Cahir from falling, from tumbling down into the abyss. Now he is scared, terrified. He groans. But she needs an explanation. He owes her one before the end.

"In the attack in Cintra when I took you," he starts, trying to block out every thought of the precipice, of what will happen if she lets go of him, "I did everything I was asked with no hesitation, but now I can't stop asking questions. I've discovered I was wrong. I can't give you back the life I stole."

She roars and, with force, pushes him down to the ground, not backwards into the abyss. Panting, he gets to his knees.

"My life is yours," Cahir says, gazing up at her as she stands towering above him, glaring at him, her sword by her side, the wind from the sea in her ash-blonde hair. And he kneeling on the ground before the Princess as he should. "So, take it." He is sure she will. He is ready for it.

She takes a step toward him.

"You took everything from me," she spits, her voice full of hatred and heartbreak.

"I know," he says, his heart breaking for her. It is true, too. It is what he did. He destroyed her life. Why did it have to be this way? Because her father ordered it and he was so bloody stupid and blindly followed those orders. But he can never tell her that Emhyr var Emreis, the White Flame of Nilfgaard, is the father she believes died when she was a little girl. No, the truth is too cruel. 

"I know," he says once more, then looks down at her sword. He takes the sharp blade in his gloved hand and raises it to his throat.

"Take this blade." He looks up into her eyes, holding her sword with both hands against his neck. "And let yours be the last face I see in this world. Princess Cirilla. The Lion Cub of Cintra. She who has the power to move the world. I owe you that." He lets go of the blade. The pointed tip of her sword just so touches the collar of his gambeson right below the Adam's apple. Like a kiss. The kiss of death. From her he will gladly receive it. 

"Do it. And forgive me." It is much to ask, he is aware of it, too much, but it would mean the world to him. Her absolution. "Forgive me."