#triss fic

[thedemonofcat]

In some languages, Jaskier's name is Marigold, which is kind of strange because there is already a character called Marigold.

Has anyone ever thought about using the information to do a fic where Jaskier and Triss are related to each other?

[thefandomlifechoseme]

consider:

professor!Jaskier, who teaches in the winter, and travels with Geralt in the summer.

it's winter, jaskier's got to oxenfurt in good time, his students are polite and attentive, and they've been going missing. not many, and not often, but alice didn't turn up to that guest lecture she'd insisted she'd be going to, peter hasn't turned up in a week, and catherine never came to that meeting the other day.

his colleagues think it's some monster. he has to talk them out of hiring a witcher, citing the fact that they don't know what it is, witchers don't take contracts on people, and, oh yeah, it's winter. the only witchers currently available for hire are the Cats, and it's incredibly unlikely that their caravans will stop by oxenfurt.

now, jaskier's been travelling with his beloved emotionally-constipated witcher for a fair few decades now. it might be a monster, some necrophage, or a werewolf. but it probably isn't. there's a reason witchers don't work in winter, and it's that monsters hibernate. and besides, the dates that the students went missing don't line up with any particular cycle, lunar or otherwise.

they do however, line up with the dates for a fae festival. now, jaskier isn't saying that the fae did this, but the fae did this.

so, he checks the next relevant date, sends a letter to yennefer, triss and one for when geralt hits the path again, as a precaution, because he's not an idiot, no matter how he likes to play the part.

he brings an iron dagger, enough food and water for 2 weeks, his best lute, his composition notebook, his path notebook, and, begrudgingly, some of valdo's less terrible works and a few of essi's latest ballads, because they have different styles of performing, and he waits outside that mushroom circle he found a few years back.

he hopes that they're only after some music to live their festival up.

(they are, thankfully, and, aside from all the word games, mind games, and actual games, it's fairly easy to get their leader to sign a contract with him stating that they will play at this festival and his festival alone, they may, willingly play at other festivals if they choose, that they're all free to leave after the allotted dates for the festival are up, and that this contract will be good for 1,000 years irrespective of any changes in leadership, with him personally, and that any changes to the contract must be verbally, and explicitly signed by all the people involved in the signing of the contract.

it's actually fairly entertaining.)

(yen and triss have a go at him later, of course, and geralt has him go over all the loopholes in his own contracts for their next five years on the path, supposedly to help him get the most money he can, but they both know it's so he doesn't accidentally leave a loophole in any other contracts he might make with the fae. but it's out love and relief, more than anything.)

[kuwdora]

Witcher Recs - Femslash - Sorceress Edition part 1

I come bearing more recs from my collection of bookmarks and downloads and stories I found in my saved tabsets from the last few years - and a few recent finds, too. There's always so much good fic out here and this is just a small recs list: 16 recs across two pairings. I love tag diving for femslash because I always find so many new gems when I look again. Witcher femslash is a wonderful bounty that I can't get enough of, so let me share this bounty with you! This post will contain Witcher Femslash Recs featuring Sorceresses. Fringilla/Francesca and Philippa/Triss are the theme of this post. All Witcher canons represented and will be noted in each rec.

Fringilla/Francesca

Our Feet Make Flowers Bloom by @ahh-fxck. 638w. Mature. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. Touching. Psychic abilities, tenderness.

This is gorgeous prose, so full of tenderness and poetry and oh my god, it had my heart aching for Fringilla finally having a little bit of warmth and sunlight in her life. And Francesca being so gentle and kind! It’s so good.

Three Queens by @salamanderinspace. 678w. Mature. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca.Post-canon, hair-pulling, love. When Fringilla and Francesca kiss it's a study in contrasts.

This ficlet is also absolutely awe-inspiring and beautiful, full of such tenderness that makes one ache to the depths of their soul. It’s so, so lovely. The prose really does me in here and I love coming back to it when I need some beautiful softness.

Submission by LadyV_writes. 4298w. Explicit. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. “Submission can be enjoyable under the right circumstances. Trust me.”

Extraordinarily hot. Fringilla trusting Francesca enough to fall apart. ❤️ Like, 10 million kinds of hot for Francesca guiding Fringilla through the process of letting go.

A Reward by chryysaskk. 66w. Gen. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. “It’s a beautiful lullaby,” she hears her voice and she didn’t control it, but she found it sweeter than usual. She was rarely rewarded for not controlling.

This is fluff, but it’s a fluffy kind of ache since we know how canon turns out. But for a sweet, sweet moment, Fringilla and Francesca are okay and the world is full of possibilities as long as they are together.

make sure nobody sees you leave by @acemoppet TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. 260w. Mature. Angst, Secret relationship. Hurt no comfort. Kissing. “We tell no one.”

I can’t lie, I love secrets that characters keep. Secrets are hot. This is an angsty achey ficlet that made me fold in on myself. I want everything for them, but at least they can take these fleeting moments with each other.

the eye of the storm by @dancingwiththefae. 1279w. Mature. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. Post-Thanedd, nudity, bathing/washing, hurt/comfort. She gently wiped away the blood. Francesca's fingers dug into her arms tight. She didn't need to say anything, the haunted expression in her eyes told her all she needed to know. All they had was each other.

The ache and hurt/comfort in this fic is so good, I read it three times. In the quietness after Thanedd, Fringilla and Francesca have each other and it’s wonderful.

wine-drunk by @limerental. 729w. Mature. TWN. Fringilla/Francesca. Post season 3, grief/mourning, alcohol abuse, hurt/comfort, angst. In the wake of Thanned, Fringilla and Francesca both struggle with sleep.

Love that this fic takes what we saw of Fringilla’s experience in season 3 and weaves that pain throughout. I also love it when Lim is writing Fringilla POV. This is so achey, so full of hurt and angst but Fringilla and Francesca do have each other. Even though the pain and trauma Fringilla’s been through, I’m left wondering if it’s enough.

Philippa/Triss

Into the wishy-washy dark that cannot let go by @sargassostories. 10,611w. Explicit. TWN. Philippa/Triss. Slow burn, Hanahaki disease, self-worth issues, d/s undertones, exhibitionism, domestic bliss. Triss Merigold survived the Battle of Sodden Hill-- and wished she hadn't. That is, until she experienced a mysterious mage healing her in her dreams, whose teasing, tempting touches begin to bring her back to life. Philippa Eilhart has taken a particular interest in a little witch's recovery, but what begins as a purely mercenary effort to gain an ally grows… complicated.

The hurt/comfort in this is fucking incredible. Triss is having a hard time with the world moving on after Sodden. Philippa’s own interest becoming intense and dark and twisted. The Hanahaki was weaved throughout the fic was really interesting and I thought added to the narrative of Triss’ pain and journey through the feelings and physical/psychological/emotional agonies she’d been enduring. I really fucking love this fic.

Wish such sugar’d words by @limerental. 5334w. Mature. TWN/book canon blending. Philippa/Triss. 5+1 things, lesbian political subterfuge, manipulation, pining, friends with benefits. Five times that Philippa and Triss use one another and one time perhaps that does not matter.

I always love the way lim does show/book canon blending and this fic is a great example of that. Giving just enough book elements to ground the fic in the vibes/politics/aesthetics of the world, he’s really zeroed in on the show versions of Philippa and Triss. Fic with the characters from the show always hit the sweet spot for me for this pairing because we were robbed of any canon interaction for them.

I Don’t Know How This One Ends Til I Die by Holliday_inn. 1248w. Explicit. Book canon. Philippa/Triss. Angst, more angst and smut, not major character death but could be. Philippa reflects on her life and relationships when she believes something’s been lost.

The Philippa POV in this is reallllllllllllllllly amazing. I don’t usually think of Philippa experiencing emotions, and this is a great fic showcasing her almost experiencing some grief and then attempting to sidestep the pain in favor of pleasure. A really interesting character study. I love seeing how this author writes all the Lodge characters.

This Is The Way by owlhart (saidanon). 1784w. Gen. Book/game canon. Philippa/Triss. Angst, softness, insecure Triss, tenderness. Philippa held her gaze, leaning forward and touching her forehead against hers as she placed Triss’ hand over her chest. The rhythmic thumping of Philippa’s heart pulsed against Triss’ fingertips, steady and soothing.  The tears fell from Triss’ eyes and Philippa shushed her gently, giving her hand a little squeeze and pressing it harder against her chest, fingers splayed between the gaps of hers. It beats - “For you and only you.”

I’d call this a relationship study and one thing I really like about this fic is how it uses the seasons to help ground the fic in the passage of time while also giving some wonderful glimpses into how Philippa Triss’ relationship looks when they’re together. It’s a poignant Triss POV, full of softness, some of Triss’ insecurities and does a great job of showing how Philippa acts in terms of love and affection.

The Rescue by finiarel. 2100w. Teen. Book canon. Philippa/Triss. Angst, hurt/comfort, Triss rescuing Philippa. They had taken Philippa Eilhart. Triss Merigold with the help of others is taking her back.

!!! The whole premise of this fic is great and I gobbled it up because Triss being the one to help rescue Philippa from torture and pain is *chefs kiss* opposite of what I might first associate with these two. The hurt/comfort in this is yummy as fuck if you enjoy that trope, but of course Philippa is in this fic and so the comfort part gets turned about and Triss gets insecure and needy all over again because of how much she needs Philippa.

Here For It by beyondthesilence. 738w. Gen Book canon. Philippa/Triss. Angst, hurt/comfort, owl Philippa. A one-shot about a sorceress dealing with emotions.

This fic is amazing. Short, not so sweet, but A++ glimpse at Philippa “dealing” with emotions, with an amazing ending and visual that’s gonna be stuck in my head for ages.

change of pace by scredgirl. 1285w. Explicit. Book/game canon. Philippa/Triss. PWP. Triss and Phil power dynamics. On the importance of sex as a relaxation method and the top/bottom balance in a relationship.

This is so fucking hot. Like, absolutely 100% hot with the sex but yes, especially hot look at the power dynamic in this relationship.

Focus by scredgirl. 2257w. Explicit. Book canon. Philippa/Triss. PWP. Smut at Thanedd. The banquet on Thanedd is a dramatic affair, and when Triss's mood turns sour, she can think of one good way to cope.

Thanedd PWP that I also wolfed down. It’s hot, but also this author brings an amazing look at Philippa and Triss’ power dynamic and how it plays out in another smutty scene, but with specific context of why Triss is particularly needy in that moment. This is chefs kiss hot on a character level, in addition to being fucking hot as hell with the sex.

Entanglement by Astrarian. 12262w. Game canon. Philippa/Triss. PWP. Bath sex. Post Blindingly Obvious TW3 quest. After liberating Philippa Eilhart from the bathhouse, Triss takes Philippa to her room at the Chameleon, where she can explain in private why they need Philippa's help. Talking isn't all they do.

This is shameless, utter horny PWP. Smut. It’s peak sapphic filth. It’s erotic. It’s also an incredible example of “what does the sex tell us about the characters headspace?” type of smutty fic. How do they view the world? It’s 12k long and the beginning shows the reader where Philippa and Triss are respectively in the context of The Witcher Wild Hunt game (briefly linked the side quest it’s nominally related to for skimming purposes), but the fic goes so deep into the headspace and character desires because of the smut. What Triss needs, what she wants. What Phil needs and what she also wants. The d/s in this is bar none is so fucking good I think my brain whited out.

I also need to repeat: this is so very extremely, extremely horny and sexy. 🔥🔥🔥

Previously on Kuwdora's Witcher Recs:

Villains and Bad Guys Part 1

Istredd Recs

[cybernecromancer365]

(Disclaimer: Supposed to be a little humorous)

Y'all, Yennaia has got me in a chokehold rn...

And...I have never seen so many opportunities for a kiss missed in one scene. This ship takes the cake for 'they were nearly there' . This whole scene is a masterclass for playing with the audience's emotions lol

A kiss could've happened here:

Then here, (Yennefer even gets closer, she literally leans in, even if it was slight, she still leaned in. And my god look at her eyes, she's waiting):

Or here, (I mean, Yennefer could've reached across the table...):

But then Tissaia does it for her, and we get our rushed, desperate hug scene (like if I could claw my eyes out at this miss lol):

Then, of course, here:

Oh but it didn’t end there...

Even Triss is looking at this like "Oh god this is unfortunate. Just do it please, just kiss."

[chaosandorder46]

[gil-galadhwen]

The Lady Of The Marred Moon [An Eskel Fic]

Chapter 8 - Night Terrors

Five days after her injury, Catrin is starting to get bored up in her tower all alone, so she asks Geralt if she can share a room with someone downstairs. Luckily for her, Lambert is heading out on a contract so there's a free bed in the room he shares with Eskel…

Read here....

( Dividers by @saradika-graphics )

[wingsofhcpe]

WIP // And Still We Surface In Morning Light ch. 2 (excerpt)

(flashback) Yennefer and the others find the truth of Tissaia having lost her Chaos hard to accept.

"Nothing." Triss drew back her hands, the gold glow that suffused them fading. Her russet curls rustled about as she shook her head helplessly. "I can't feel Tissaia's Chaos at all."

"But she's not dead!" Sabrina protested from where she stood, having finally abandoned her nervous pacing to cast fervent glances between Triss and Tissaia. Yennefer was privately grateful, for she had been tempted to cast a stillness spell on her old classmate to get her to cease her incessant back and forth.

Although after her remark having uselessly stated what was so blatantly obvious, Yennefer was reconsidering the idea.

"Well, clearly not. But something's still very wrong with her," she cast Sabrina a dark glance over her shoulder, and Sabrina shrugged helplessly.

"I mean, I gathered that from the whole casting an ancient spell and then passing out after."

"Not to mention her hair changed colour! I've never heard of that happening before." Keira added, which prompted an annoyed growl from deep within Philippa's throat.

"You are all like squabbling little ducklings! Tissaia would be dismayed to see her students stand helplessly around like that." With a confident, fluid movement, the woman extended one arm and splayed her fingers right over the Rectoress' chest. A cold blue glow emanated from her palm for a few seconds, and then she drew her hand back with a pinch between her carefully trimmed brows.

"Damn. Her Chaos really is gone."

Triss, normally so meek but evidently having been driven to her wit's end by the day's tragedies, threw her hands up in exasperation."I just told you that!"

"Well, you are a child-"

"Will you all just stop?" The door to the bedroom slammed open and Margarita walked in with a pile of blankets supported in her arms. Although she could barely peek at them over it, Yennefer was forced to admit she did look rather formidable. "I can hear you from down the damn hallway! It's a wonder you haven't roused Tissaia and whatever ghosts have taken residence in this godsforsaken ruin."

[tbc]

[jawanaka]

The Sins of Father's: Chapter 15

Hey did I tell you I updated the long-fic for the first time in quite awhile yesterday. Its true!

"We have tried reasoning, explaining, demanding, bargaining, pleading...she won't move- She and her northern advisers, no Peter don't look at me like that I don't think there is some conspiracy afloat in taking down the empire from the inside. Merely that they lack the guts and experience." Evertsen suddenly laughed, "You think Cirilla Elen Fiona Rhiannon, last in the var Emreis and Cintran line, lack guts? You think Triss Merigold, fourteenth of Hill, one of the last remaining from the great lodge of Sorceresses and the brotherhood before that, lack experience? By the sun Vattier, you still don't appear to be aware of what you're dealing with."

(cover as always by the lovely @herbalinz-of-yesteryear)

[corvo-bianco-lilacs]

Triss shivered slightly in the chill of the bedroom. While Novigrad had welcomed mages and non-humans back into the fold of daily life, she still shied away from wandering alone in the city.

"You're cold. Come here." It was Philippa's voice cutting through the dim room, drawing Triss' gaze to the owl sorceress.

"Even without sight, you always know..." Triss smiled, standing from the desk and making her way over to the bed, where Phil sat waiting with open arms.

"You shiver loudly." Phil teased, pressing a kiss to Triss' cheek as soon as she was settled in her lap, her head coming to rest on Philippa's shoulder. "But I do find it rather endearing that you would choose to suffer rather than come and sit with me."

"I don't choose to suffer, Pippa." Triss pouted, glaring at the older woman. "I simply wait for you."

Philippa chuckled at her words, hugging the younger woman closer to her, her nose pressed into auburn locks that smelled of verdania and lavender. She inhaled deeply, breathing Triss in, humming her appreciation of having her nestled in her arms.

"I would rather have you here with me all the time, darling. You don't have to wait for me to ask or notice. You are always free to come to me."

Triss smiled, wrapping her arms tightly around Phil's waist, pressing her face into the crook of Phil's neck, sighing at the other woman's warmth as it radiated through her.

"Very well, Pippa. I'll come to you." Triss breathed, pressing a feather-soft kiss against Philippa's skin, earning a hum of appreciation.

"Good. I love you, my little flower."

"And I love you, my owl."

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 22

twn triss/vesemir

Triss nurses a wounded Vesemir back to health after Rience's attack.

At the touch of a soothing hand and a mumbled word, the wounded old Witcher settled into an easier sleep. At his bedside, Triss fretted. 

His head wound had been simple to heal on the surface, a mundane stitch or two to coax the skin together and then a whisper of intent, a breath across his brow. The mind, however, was a more delicate thing. 

Triss had been told stories, the stuff of late night dormitory gossip, of how witchers had been crafted with a deliberate flaw in their mutated brains. If they were captured and dissected for the secrets of their anatomy, or if they became bloodthirsty and disobedient to the twisted mages who had made them, there was a defect in their minds that would burst and kill them. 

She knew it was likely a simple horror story for children, macabre and exaggerated, but still, Triss worried. The old Witcher certainly looked fragile as he lay in silence.

It had been foolish, what she and Vesemir had wanted to do. So little was known of the intricacies of the process by which witchers had once been made. They could not possibly have predicted the effects of such a concoction. 

With a little distance, Triss saw that Vesemir had been irrational with grief, Eskel’s sudden loss too fresh, and she had gone along unquestioning because she felt that loss just as strongly. Not of a Witcher she had barely known but of those lost at Sodden, herself among them. That same cloying wrongness gripped her, a desperation to find some way to make sense of it, make sure it never happened again. 

Triss quietly straightened the blankets over Vesemir's prone form. 

She hadn't been enough to help the girl, had failed her, had come close to aiding Vesemir in doing something irreperable to her, had found herself completely out of sorts for days after peering into the darkness of mind. If the girl carried Elder Blood, then… something could happen. To the world as well her.

Triss felt achingly fragile, as though maybe Aretuza had built a similar flaw as the witchers into her very being, and it would take only a slight breeze for her body to drift to pieces, insubstantial as a wraith. At Sodden, something vital had come close to burning out in her, and still, she was one foot in the grave.

She wet a cloth and dabbed the beads of sweat from Vesemir’s brow. Triss liked the old Witcher, found his gruffness endearing. He was handsome and had kind eyes and gentle hands. In what she had gleaned from Geralt's earliest memories, he loomed as a formidable, terrifying figure but also as his closest approximation to fatherhood. 

As she bruahed back his white hair, long fingers soothing down his wounded temple, she felt his pain reverberate like a bright spark through her body. She wanted to know him, heal him, extract that pain like a jewel and pretend it wasn't exhilarating. 

At midday, she coaxed Vesemir awake for a warm meal. He woke all at once, frantic and gasping for breath, and clutched at her forearms with a strength that startled her. 

She squeaked and called to him, and at last, he seemed to recognize her, relaxing his grasp a little on her arms but not wholly freeing her. His eyes were a rich amber, the silver of his hair catching the firelight, and she thought something in his face resembled Geralt's, even though that made little sense. 

When Triss leaned to kiss him, his lips parted on a sigh. Vesemir blinked at her as she drew away, reached to touch her cheek with a calloused hand. 

Had his mind cleared enough to wholly know her?

Triss hoped not, even as she fed him by the spoonful and then rose above him to shed her gown, a shadow of her nude silhouette looming above them on the stone wall.

He would not like what he saw if he wholly knew her, every decaying piece and part.

[blackberrywars]

hiii would you ever consider writing merihart fic 👀🙏

hey I will make no promises because I am a very slow writer and my muse is fickle, but I've got a little piece in the works as we speak. they're just too delicious and awful together. A little nsfw sample just for you nonnie

— — — — — — — — — —

Her fingers find the handhold of Triss’ jaw like an old friend, sharp nails digging in ever so slightly. It never fails to make those pretty blue-green eyes, one of the few things she kept about herself from her student days, open wide, almost innocent. Those pretty pink lips fall open. Philippa squeezes tighter and remembers, idly, why she always offers her seconds at their dinner table, why she makes sure to reward Triss with a smile and a kiss when she accepts. Her soft, round cheeks just fit so nicely in her hands. Squishing and yielding to her, plush enough to let her nails make new dimples in them. Blotchy pink and then red when Philippa tucks a pinky underneath her jaw, pressing into the artery hard enough for Triss to let out an ugly wheeze.

She smiles. Presses a little harder. The blush on Triss’ soft cheeks hides the chips in her red nail polish. Maybe she’ll have her dolly paint them over again later, when they’re sitting at the table eating breakfast. It’s the sort of little ritual they both savor.

As if to prove her right, Philippa can feel Triss leak onto her thigh, rocking those wide hips down even as Philippa keeps her face immobilized, lips puffed out and green eyes teary. She kneels up higher to give her doll some friction, taking the opportunity to kiss against her pliant mouth. It forces her to stretch more than is really comfortable, but she can’t say it’s not worth it. Not when Triss squeezes her pretty eyes shut and leans in as far as Philippa will let her.

— — — — — — — — — —

[littlestsnicket]

Triss smooths her thumbs over the flawless skin under Lydia’s eyes, the rest of her fingers fanning over the ruins of the woman’s lower face, her jaw and chunks of her neck missing completely, skillfully reconstructed with illusion but not real enough to touch. Just gnarls of twisted flesh catching unpredictably on Triss’s fingertips.

She wonders what Lydia can feel.

Triss feels only the vaguest hints of pressure where Lydia’s fingers trace the scar tissue that covers her breasts.

Triss feels nothing as Lydia observes her disfigurement.

Triss presses their foreheads together and slides her fingers over Lydia’s hips nonetheless.

[also on ao3]

[vulpinesaint]

since i am out of school and witcherposting often again i thought i would let the crowd know that i am updating my little (very large) kaer morhen fic again :) we're in the final few chapters i prommy... these emotionally damaged people are all learning to care about each other so deeply... love each other even... beautiful world...

[bambirex]

The Wonderful In You

Pairing: Yentriss/Trissefer

Characters: Triss Merigold, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Tissaia de Vries

Rating: teen

Additional tags: 5+1 things, friends to lovers, infertility, insecurity, blood, injury, coming of age, fluff and angst, triss being yennefer’s biggest cheerleader, women being awesome, mainly Triss’s POV, nightmares, canon divergence, soft triss merigold, soft yennefer of vengerberg, love confession, feelings

Word count: 4,080

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:  Five times Triss told Yennefer she loved her without outright saying it, and the one time Yennefer said it for real.

Author’s note: I've always wanted to do one of these 5+1 things fics because I adore them, and I decided to take an underrated, but very sweet pairing for my first try! Not much plot is happening here, just lots of feelings.Feedback is super appreciated!! <3

Read on Ao3

**

1.

A weak, useless flicker of lightning. Lips pursed tight in concentration, sweat beading on her temples. Eyes welling up with tears of pain and frustration. Hands trembling. A quiet, barely audible whimper. The small flicker dying out.

Triss’s chest tightened in sympathy. She so desperately wanted to run over to the other girl and wrap her arms around her right there, tell her that it was going to be alright. But such affections weren’t allowed in here, not in front of the directress and the other students who watched their struggling peer with barely masked satisfaction, so smug in the comfort of their own, more confident powers. Triss sent them a look full of disdain.

��Let me try again,” Yennefer’s voice trembled, but Triss could hear the defiance underneath it. From the moment Yennefer was brought here, she has been humiliated and mocked for every single mistake that she’s made, but she wasn’t broken. She was a fighter, a survivor. Her iron will would break through her pain.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Tissaia said, not even sparing a glance in her direction. Triss sighed deeply. The directress had a strange relationship with Yennefer: Triss once overheard a conversation where Tissaia had said that the reason she was so hard on Yennefer, was because she could tell she was special. Triss wished that instead of showing her fondness for Yennefer like this, in this strange, cold way, Tissaia would give her the warmth that Yennefer deserved.

“Let me try again!”

It was a yell, this time. Tissaia finally whipped around to face Yennefer, who stood there with flaming eyes, her hands clenched into fists. Her body trembled, but Triss knew it wasn’t from fear; it was Yennefer’s barely restrained anger trying to escape through her flesh.

“No,” Tissaia told her firmly. “You failed today. You need to take even defeat with grace, otherwise you would never make it.”

For a couple of moments, Yennefer continued to stand there, staring at Tissaia with hatred in her eyes. Triss waited anxiously for the blow to come, but instead, Yennefer turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her with so much force it nearly came off its hinges.

Tissaia sighed deeply. The disappointment was evident in her eyes. Unlike most students at Aretuza, who only cared about perfecting their powers, Triss was a good observer: she watched the world around herself like a hawk, inspecting everyone’s reactions and silently drawing her own conclusions from them. While other people would have passed Tissaia’s behavior towards Yennefer off as cold and neglectful, Triss saw the truth behind it all. She also knew that Tissaia would never tell Yennefer how she really felt about her; that duty would have to fall on someone who was much more comfortable with her feelings.

Quietly, Triss sneaked out of the room. She remained close to the walls of the hall, making sure no one would notice her walking towards the personal rooms, instead of staying at the lecture like she was supposed to.

When she reached Yennefer’s room, she took a deep breath. She knocked on the door out of politeness, despite knowing that Yennefer would send anyone away in this moment. Still, she waited a couple moments before she entered.

Yennefer was face down on the bed, head buried in her pillows. She was curled up on herself, the twisted curve of her spine even more evident in this position. Triss sat down on the edge of her bed, carefully placing a hand on Yennefer’s shoulder.

Yennefer raised her head with a murderous look, but her eyes softened when she realized it was Triss.

“You sneaked out,” she stated, her voice hoarse from crying. “Tissaia will punish you.”

“I don’t care,” Triss replied. Her hand remained on Yennefer’s shoulder, caressing gently. “I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m doing shitty, thank you for asking,” Yennefer chuckled bitterly. “You saw what happened. I failed.”

“Other girls failed, too. It happens.”

“But I always fail.”

“Some of us just need more time,” Triss said softly. She scooted closer to Yennefer on the bed, her heart fluttering happily when Yennefer didn’t pull away. “I’ve struggled with things you excelled at right away. We all need time to get it right.”

“What if I’ll never get it right?” Yennefer asked. She looked up at Triss with so much pain in her eyes, Triss’s heart clenched. “What if I’ll remain this… useless thing?”

“You’re not useless,” Triss told her quickly. She cupped Yennefer’s face between her hands, wiping away her fresh tears. “You’re meant for big things, Yennefer. I can feel it. Tissaia knows it, too.”

“Tissaia hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t. She cares about you, in her own way. And I care about you, too.”

She gently raked her thumb across Yennefer’s cheekbone, touching her distorted jaw gently. Yennefer leaned into her touch, allowing herself to be vulnerable – it was only Triss, who got to see her like this, at her worst, and in need of comfort.

“You’re special,” Triss reminded her gently, “and even if you weren’t, even if you were just an ordinary girl, I would still care about you. But I know in my heart, that you will be the most feared sorceress on the Continent. You have a power within you, Yennefer, and I know that once you tap into that, you will be unstoppable.”

Slowly, carefully, Triss leaned in to place a feather-light kiss onto Yennefer’s forehead. When she pulled back, there was a faint smile on Yennefer’s face.

2.

Even though she looked completely different, Triss could immediately tell it was her. She would have recognized those piercing violet eyes anywhere: those powerful eyes, full of defiance, boring into your very soul. Those were the only ones that remained the exact same.

Triss was not blind, and it would have been pointless to lie to herself: Yennefer looked beautiful like this. The way that black dress hugged her slim body, the way she held herself straight and high, with her raven locks cascading down her back was nothing short of majestic. The dark, sparkly eyeshadow only accentuated the mysterious beauty of her eyes. It was no wonder all eyes in the room were immediately on her.

But Triss thought Yennefer to be beautiful even before that transformation. She’s seen the beauty in the flaws, in the dislocated and twisted bones that everyone else deemed horrifying. She’s seen the person underneath it all, and she would have never wished for Yennefer to change herself this way.

“What do you think?” Yennefer asked her when she approached her, her full lips curling into a smile. She twirled around, the hem of her dress swimming around her long legs like the wings of a black swan.

“You look different,” Triss replied, unable to fight off the uncomfortable pang in her chest. There was a part of her that was worried that by changing her appearance so drastically, a part of the Yennefer Triss has known was now lost.

Yennefer arched an eyebrow smugly. “That was the point, Triss.”

“I know,” Triss sighed, raking her eyes over Yennefer’s new form. She was trying to get used to it, trying to remind herself that it was still her friend, the one Triss cared for so deeply. “You do look beautiful.”

There was a faint flush on Yennefer’s cheeks. It made Triss smile, at last.

“But you always have been,” she continued, making Yennefer snort.

“That’s bullshit. I used to be hideous, and you know that.”

“I’ve never thought of you that way,” Triss shook her head, horrified at the idea of Yennefer thinking that Triss was just lying to her. “You have always been special to me. And beautiful.”

She reached for Yennefer’s hands, gently squeezing them.

“Beauty isn’t everything, anyways,” Triss continued, staring down at their intertwined fingers. “Everything that you are, all the good things inside you… they have always been there. Even without changing how you look.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” Yennefer rolled her eyes, but luckily, she didn’t pull her hand away. Triss wouldn’t have survived it if she did. “You have always been pretty. The prettiest.”

Triss bit her lip, her cheeks warming up at Yennefer’s words.

“I have always thought the same of you, and I’m not lying,” Triss promised. “I would never lie to you, Yen.”

She looked up again, into those familiar, violet eyes. Yennefer’s long eyelashes fluttered, and suddenly Triss found herself overwhelmed with the need to kiss her, even though she knew it would have been inappropriate.

“I’ve told you before, and I’m more than willing to tell you again,” Triss smiled, rubbing her thumb across the back of Yennefer’s hand, “that you are so much more than what the word sees when they look at you. Your mind… your heart… your power… I have always looked up to you, Yennefer. And I will continue to do so. Because I know you are the best of us.”

Yennefer swallowed audibly. For a couple moments, she didn’t reply, just continued holding onto Triss’s hands.

“So,” she eventually said, “I assume you hate it, then?”

Triss chuckled, rolling her eyes fondly at her friend.

“I didn’t say that! I’m only trying to remind you that you shouldn’t change for anyone. That you are perfect the way you are right now, and the way you always have been. And the way you will be, because…”

“I’m special, I know, I know,” Yennefer laughed. “You don’t have to tell me again.”

“I will keep saying it, until you believe me,” Triss replied, “and, until then. Would you like to dance?”

Yennefer seemed taken aback for a second, then she grinned. Instead of a reply, she grabbed Triss’s hand harder and dragged her towards the middle of the ballroom, not caring about bumping into the other dancing couples.

They placed their hands on each other’s waists as they swayed together in their own rhythm. Triss mapped out the new forms of Yennefer’s body under her fingers, getting to know her again.

“I don’t care how bored you are of hearing it,” Triss whispered, “because I’ll never want you, not for a second, to think you are worthless, or that you have to prove yourself to anyone. Alright?”

“Alright,” Yennefer sighed. She pulled Triss closer, resting her forehead against her shoulder.

Triss let herself slip into her warm embrace with a smile.

3.

The faint sounds of someone struggling seeped into her own, mundane dream, piercing through the sweet fog of sleep. Triss’s eyes snapped open, hazed for a few moments as she slowly came back to reality.

The sheets were rolled up, crumpled, as if someone has been stuck in them and kept trying to break free. The bed creaked slightly, and Triss could now hear the sound of heavy breathing, interspersed with quiet, pained whimpers.

She rolled over onto her side to see Yennefer writhing on the bed, her eyes still closed. Her hands were grabbing onto her pillow, fingers digging in for dear life. Her hair was drenched in sweat, and her body trembled and twitched with the tremors of an invisible fight. She kicked out in her dream, her shallow breathing rising to a wheezy, terrified gasp.

Triss placed a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. Yennefer flinched in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Triss squeezed her arm just a tad tighter, trying to pull Yennefer back home.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, leaning in close to Yennefer’s ear, “Yennefer, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up, love.”

The trembling in Yennefer’s body eased as she took in a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open, confused and worried, until she saw Triss. Then, she immediately flung herself into her arms, burying her face in Triss’s chest.

“I’m here,” Triss told her softly, wrapping her arms around her protectively. She caressed Yennefer’s hair as she sobbed into her chest, her hands fisted into the material of Triss’s nightgown.

“You are okay,” Triss told her, smoothing a hand down Yennefer’s back. Yennefer’s own nightgown stuck to her skin with sweat, and she shivered as Triss caressed her.

“They took it,” Yennefer whispered, her voice slightly muffled as her face was pressed against Triss’s body. “They took it, and I’m never getting it back.”

Triss didn’t need an explanation on what she meant. She knew exactly, what the price of Yennefer’s transformation was. But she’s never brought it up, never asked Yennefer if she’s regretted sacrificing her womb for her beauty. She’s decided it was up to Yennefer to talk about her feelings on the matter, if she’s wanted to.

For decades, Yennefer hasn’t said a word about her loss. She’s had all sort of lovers, men and women and people not falling into those categories alike, but in the end, she’s always returned to Triss. What their relationship would become later on the long run, they’ve never discussed. Triss knew that she would have accepted whatever Yennefer decided, that she would have been okay with Yennefer choosing someone else, even if it meant Triss’s heart would break in the process.

But lately, Yennefer has been aching for something she couldn’t have. The pain of finality has caught up to her.

“I’ll lose everything,” Yennefer continued, still clinging to Triss, “and everyone.”

“Not me,” Triss whispered, holding Yennefer tighter. She placed a kiss on the top of her head. “You will never lose me.”

“You’ll find a man,” Yennefer continued, ignoring what Triss said, “you’ll have his babies.”

“Who said I want that?”

“You’ll need a family. You’ll need stability. I’m a wreck, I’m broken. Is that what you really want in your life, Triss? You could have everything.”

“But I want you,” Triss told her. Tears of sympathy burned her own eyes as she held Yennefer impossibly closer, wanting her to be as close to herself as possible. “I’ve always wanted you. I’ll never want anyone else.”

Yennefer’s eyes were bright with tears as she finally looked up at Triss. Triss wiped them away gently, like so many times before.

“And I’ll never leave you,” she promised, before she hooked a finger under Yennefer’s chin, raising her head so she could kiss her on the lips, slowly, sweetly. Their kiss was the seal on the promise Triss made, a promise that Triss would never break.

4.

The soil was loose beneath their feet, causing them to stumble every few steps. Triss giggled as she nearly tripped, grabbing onto Yennefer’s hands in the last second.

“Where are we even going,” Yennefer huffed as she stabilized Triss with an arm around her waist, “we’ve been crawling through the dirt for hours!”

“You’ll see,” Triss replied, grinning cheekily. She kissed the side of Yennefer’s head, softening her annoyance. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

She moved forward, grabbing Yennefer’s hand to pull her after her. She could imagine Yennefer rolling her eyes behind her, in the company of that faint, fond smile whenever she thought Triss was doing something silly, but endearing. The thought made warmth spread inside Triss’s chest.

As soon as she’s heard about this place, she knew she had to take Yennefer here. Her stomach tingled with excitement as the forest opened up before them, and the field spread out in front of their eyes.

There were flowers amidst the harsh green grass, blooming in all sorts of colors: the plants swayed softly in the gentle breeze, the buoyant reds, the cheerful yellows, the lovely blues and gentle pinks of the flowers shining brightly everywhere their eyes could see.

Triss glanced at Yennefer next to her, her heart swelling inside her chest when she spotted that unabashed awe in Yennefer’s eyes. Yennefer stared at the flowers before her, her lips parted slightly as she took one careful, slow step towards the field, as if she was worried she would scare the flowers away.

“Well?” Triss asked, never taking her eyes off Yennefer as she tentatively discovered the field. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Yennefer breathed, her lips curling into the most carefree smile Triss has ever seen. It was so beautiful, that it outshone the beauty of the flowers.

“Apparently, these flowers live forever,” Triss explained, “they never die. They forever remain this beautiful and colorful. Even during winter. They hide under the snow for a while, and then they sprout up again, looking ever so perfect and strong.”

She stepped closer to Yennefer, reaching for her hand. Yennefer immediately laced their fingers together, pulling Triss closer.

“I wanted to show you, because I thought you would appreciate it,” Triss continued, a little shyly. Yennefer sighed, but it was a happy one. She wrapped an arm around Triss and pulled her closer, burying her face in her neck.

“I love it,” Yennefer told her. Triss could feel her grinning against her skin. “It’s beautiful.”

“I hope…” Triss started, then she trailed off. She swallowed around the lump in her throat, suddenly feeling choked up with emotions.

“I hope we will be like these flowers.”

“That we would live forever?”

“Not necessarily that,” Triss smiled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, “but this thing between us… what we are. Our connection. I hope that will live forever. Even if sometimes the snow falls on us… we will come back alive again. That we will keep shining against all odds. I want that for ourselves.”

Yennefer smiled, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind Triss’s ear. She cupped her cheek and placed a soft kiss onto her lips which made Triss’s knees buckle underneath her.

“I hope so, too,” Yennefer whispered. “Thank you, for taking me here today.”

Triss could only reply with pulling Yennefer into another, even deeper kiss.

5.

The tears didn’t seem to want to stop. They flowed down her face endlessly as the tension finally broke, as the pain and loss poured out of her. Triss sobbed freely, carelessly, clinging onto Yennefer like an anchor. She never wanted to let go of her again, never wanted to let her out of her sights.

Yennefer held her back, her arms tight around Triss. She wept silently, as opposed to Triss’s loud cries. But then again, she didn’t know how Triss felt, she didn’t know the despair and the grief. She didn’t know what it meant for Triss to see Yennefer again.

“I thought we’ve lost you,” Triss whimpered against Yennefer’s shoulder, smearing tears all over her dress, “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m here,” Yennefer told her, clutching Triss tighter. “I’m here.”

Triss snifled loudly, trembling against Yennefer. She never wanted to feel like this ever again, like her world just ended. She thought Yennefer died. She thought everything that Triss held dear in this life was gone forever.

She nearly went insane with grief. She wanted to destroy the world around her, because she didn’t want to live in it without Yennefer on her side. She wanted to get rid of all the memories, because they hurt too much, while desperately clinging to them, needing the last bits of her lover on her mind. Tissaia was worried about her. She truly thought that Triss has gone mad. She tried to force Triss to focus on her healing, instead, to get better after her injuries, but Triss couldn’t care less about herself. The only thing on her mind was Yennefer, and the aching, empty hole she’s left behind.

And now, Yennefer was back. She was alive, holding Triss. Triss could barely hold herself up, she would have probably collapsed if it weren’t for Yennefer’s arms around her. The relief upon seeing Yennefer again nearly consumed her.

“Gods,” Triss sniffled as she pulled back, still grabbing onto Yennefer’s shoulders. She took a good look at her, still barely believing that what she was seeing in front of her eyes, was real. “You really are back.”

“I am,” Yennefer reached up to cradle Triss’s cheek. “And so are you. Are you alright?”

“I don’t matter,” Triss whispered, “what matters is that you’re here. And alive, and well. Gods, Yennefer… I thought I would die without you. I was… I was hoping that I would. Because there’s no life without you, I can’t live without you…”

“You don’t have to,” Yennefer shushed her softly, “see? We’re together again.”

“When I’ve heard you were back,” Triss continued, her voice wavering, “at first I didn’t believe it. I thought it was some cruel joke. Then, I thought… that even if I’ve died… it would have been still worth it, if it meant you’d be back. Yennefer, I… I never want to be without you. I’m terrified you’re not real, that I’ve gone insane with your loss…”

“Triss,” Yennefer spoke to her softly, caressing her face with her thumbs, “it’s alright now. What should I do to make you believe I’m back?”

“Kiss me,” Triss begged, dropping to her knees in front of Yennefer. She grabbed onto her dress, terrified that if she took her hands off Yennefer for a second, she would disappear. “Touch me, make love to me, make me yours again. I wanna feel you, I wanna know you won’t disappear again.”

Yennefer did all of that that night, touched and kissed Triss so gently, but with enough intensity for her to know she was there. And Triss touched her the same, merging together with Yennefer in their bed, refusing to let go for even a second.

+1

No, no, not Triss. Not her. She had to be okay, she couldn’t be hurt.

Yennefer pushed everyone out of the way, her heart hammering inside her chest. She ran so fast her feet barely touched the ground. She couldn’t even see where she was going, blindly stumbling forward just to reach Triss, just to see if she was alright.

She’s lost sight of her during the battle: she could tell that the rest of the sorceresses were alright, but she couldn’t find Triss. Her heart clenched painfully, tears of desperation filling her eyes. It was like Sodden all over again, but with the roles reversed: last time, it was Triss who thought she’s lost Yennefer, and who had to spend so much time in painful uncertainty. Now, it was Yennefer who was forced to go through the same, not knowing if Triss was alright or not.

She found her at last, curled up on herself on the floor. Blood soaked through her dress, and her eyes were closed. Yennefer dropped to her knees next to her, reaching out for Triss. Her hands were soon covered in blood as she touched her.

“Triss,” Yennefer whispered, tears streaming down her face. Triss didn’t reply, just lay there, motionless. Yennefer shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t lose her. Triss was her everything.

She thought back on all the time they’ve spent together: she remembered a young, friendly Triss who told her it was fine if she struggled with her magic, a gentle soul who always believed Yennefer was the most beautiful, most special thing in the world. She remembered the Triss who was always by her side, who always provided her comfort during her lowest points, who cared for her like no one else did, who showed Yennefer that life had a lot to give, even when it felt like everything was hopeless. Triss, who, despite constantly reminding Yennefer of how special she was, had trouble seeing her own worth. Triss, who loved Yennefer so much, but never dared say it out loud, but said and did so many other things that spoke louder than any words could, because that was what Yennefer needed in those moments. Triss, whom Yennefer loved so much in return, and whom she refused to let slip away.

“Triss, come back to me,” Yennefer pleaded with her, raising one of Triss’s hands to her lips. She kissed each of her bloodied knuckles, her tears falling onto Triss’s skin. “I love you, I love you so much,” Yennefer whispered, “I love you more than anything in this world. Please, don’t leave me.”

She laid her head against Triss’s hand, sobbing as she clutched onto her, whispering a thousand more “I love you”s against her skin, a desperate mantra to somehow bring her back.

Then, faintly, she felt a squeeze around her own hand, followed by hearing a weak intake of breath.

“I love you too,” Triss whispered, her eyes opening slowly.

[chaosandorder46]

Chapter 3 is up :)

[antisocialsocialite]

*new 13k witcher fic appears*

jaskier keeps bumping into witchers during his travels. eskel is a hugger, lambert curses, aiden is alive, vesemir is dad. geralt is jealous and whipped. triss is hot and nice and yen is sly and also hot. what more do you want?

ships tagged below

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