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nnightskiess · 1 month

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everytime you leave, part five

₊° - 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

With the sound and sensation… of her heart beating loudly in her ears, Yennefer found it hard to fall asleep. Unease, restlessness, but yet also the feeling of being in control, of being right where she should be, accompanied her daydreams as she tossed and turned beneath the covers. The windows rattled as another harsh gust of wind slapped against the walls of Aretuza, but while it had been a sound that had kept her wide awake during her first few weeks, it served as a comforting lullaby now. At least in this room, void of judgemental stares, void of feelings of envy and hatred, she could come closer to who she was before coming here. Alone and imprisoned with only her thoughts to keep her company. The wind continued to howl as the dancing flames in the fireplace barely managed to keep her from freezing. It was a particularly stormy night on the Isle of Thanedd. So high up this hill, at the foot of the ocean, Aretuza was often the first victim of the land’s ruthless weather. But it was nothing like she’d seen before. It was as if the rain pelting against the glass and the wind crying out were both begging to be let in, to comfort the newest addition to the Brotherhood. Yennefer could only imagine how you must be feeling right now. Cold and frightened of the unknown. She knew, because she had felt the exact same. And alone, most of all. Sure, she favoured some people over others, but Yennefer could never truthfully admit she had friends. That would be a lie. No one had ever been her friend, and being in Aretuza hadn't changed that. If anything, she'd shut down each and every attempt at a friendship, suspecting they made fun of her behind her back anyway. And she’d prefer to not have any friends. She’d stay to learn what she needed, to take care of herself as a mage in this world. Then she’d go and use that power and knowledge to live her own life. She was the worst of her class anyway, so what use would the Brotherhood have with her?

Her mind wandered back to you as the wind howled again. Somehow, as she’d looked into those eyes that had spat fire at her, she’d seen recognition. Familiarity, something kindred. It had given her a sensation she’d never felt before. Hope. Because there was hope in the power she felt rumbling through her veins the minute you locked eyes. She’d seen you as easy prey for the other mages the minute she’d watched Tissaia bring in your defeated form, seen you tattered and burned and bruised, and heard you banging against the door. She felt a little bad at the relief that washed over her, thinking that perhaps you'd be the next freak show with all those burns, that maybe you'd be even worse than her in classes and she wouldn't have to face Tissaia's wrath anymore. Then the littlest voice, hidden behind thick walls inside her, had wondered if maybe, she shouldn't pit against you. Maybe, she could finally have a friend, one as ruined as she was. Someone who understood her, who could see past the ugliness. But no, you were just like everyone else.

Yennefer closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed as she bit her lip until it bled. Her body was restless— it itched, it burned, it pinched and it was feverishly hot and piercing cold all at the same time. Yet her mind was even worse. The number of different things she smelt made her dizzy and nauseous— from the smell of blood, fire, and scorched earth, to that of summer rain, something flowery and, funnily enough, that of an apple tart. It was so specific, that it kept plaguing her, keeping her up. As if it was part of a memory she should have remembered and that it wouldn’t leave her senses until she did. Then there were the flashes of memories she saw when she closed her eyes— from the sun peaking through the thick canopy of treetops, a cellar stocked with food right before a harsh winter, muddy hands ploughing through the earth, the feeling of the cold water of a lake dancing against her thighs, to horses crying out and galloping in hopes to diminish the flames burning them alive. She heard screams, the soft trickle of a river, a song being hummed, and the bubbling of a large fire. Surely she must still be hallucinating, a direct result of the herbology class that had gone wrong today, where Tissaia had given them something to chew under false pretences just so they could learn to always keep their wits about them and stay alert. Because these rushes of smells and sensations weren’t hers, not all of them, at least. Perhaps this was another one of Tissaia's tests. They’d probably all wake up tomorrow, exhausted from the lack of sleep, and have the hardest test ever to train how well they’d do in the difficult circumstances of little sleep and even less concentration. Because Yennefer had none left of the latter. And when Yennefer couldn’t concentrate or control herself, she’d grow irritated, but more importantly, she’d become a danger, waiting to explode. Because that was Yennefer— she’d never implode. When she was annoyed, everyone would know. When she was mad, everyone would have to deal with it. Perhaps she was born like that, or she’d made it part of her defence after coming here. She, herself, was her most-priced possession now. But on the other side of the hall, hidden behind thick bricks and in the dark of the night, you were waiting for not the explosion, but the implosion. And when it came to you, an explosion would inevitably follow after that. You would only explode after imploding, after being hurt, defied and beaten. And after the events that had happened, you were waiting for another big bang to occur.

With your body shivering from the cold, you jumped as the windows clattered once more, the pelting rain finding amusement in it. They were making fun of you, you were sure, pointing fingers and not even trying to hide their grins and chuckles behind their hands. You were defeated. You were heartbroken. Exhausted to no end. But while everything in you screamed for sleep, a louder voice screamed with images, smells and sounds that had painted the nightmare of the last few days. It terrified you. Not even a few days here and somehow the mage in you had been unleashed more often than since your birth. Perhaps that was just an aftershock of this conduit moment Tissaia had been talking about. Or was this place some sort of amplifier? Or was everyone plagued by their terrors and were they just better at shutting them out?

You released a shaky breath when you swallowed back a sob. In the cold of this room, during this storm, all you longed for was your mother’s warm embrace, the way she’d comfort you with a hummed song, or how she’d bake her favourite tarts during the first day of winter. But you didn’t deserve warmth, nor did you long for it. Not anymore. Not after you’d seen what followed heat. The destruction it had left. You didn’t deserve to long for your mother or your family when you had been the one who’d brought them to their doom. And even while you tried to get those images to comfort you, an unfamiliar sensation washed over you. It had hit you as hard as the wind making the windows clatter. Unfamiliar sights and smells ensnared your mind. You could smell the waste of fruit and vegetables combined with the rotting of wet hay. You saw a pigpen, a well and a table full of kids. There were only three chairs, but no one seemed to mind eating their platter on the ground. A happy family, you presumed. But then your body shook with a sensation you’d only recently truly learned and embraced— anger. It grew warm, made beads of sweat tickle your forehead and made you let out a whine in pure fright. Not again. Not here. The only comfort you found was the humbling realisation that your hands and fingers were still freezing. So long as they were, nothing would happen. You saw a couple of kids again, heard them laughing, and watched as you were then pushed to the ground, your body jolting in your bed in real-time.

The wind cried out again, and you were back in your room. You had wanted to stay awake, not wanting to be caught off guard in this place, not feeling safe enough to rest, nor liking the way the door wasn't locked, meaning everyone had acces. But after all these visions had kept you restless, you’d prayed to fall asleep and just be rid of them. Only, how could you sleep in a room as cold and damp as this one and in total darkness? How could you be sure there was no one lurking? And why had that thought even crossed your mind? The sudden thought of it made you shoot up in your bed. Though you’d never truly realised the root of all these weird things happening in your life had been chaos, you had always been a girl very trusting of your gut, your inner instinct. That was exactly why your heartbeat stammered and bounced between your two ears.

You pushed your legs over the edge of the bed and let your eyes search the darkness to see if there was any proof of your suspicion. You racked your brain to try and remember if there'd been anything useful in this room to defend yourself with, but you figured that they'd taken that away, seeing as you could harm yourself with it, too. The windows clattering in their hinges caught you off guard as your head snapped to them, where they still mocked your fright. The air changed and grew a little stuffy, as if a palpable sense of power had engulfed you, trying to dominate you. It elevated your senses and your chest rose up and down in shallow breaths. Your body started to prickle like it would whenever you’d fallen asleep on a limb resting in an uncomfortable position. You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen in fear, longing for your mother like a young child. You pushed a quiet sob out at the realisation that you didn't even remember the last time you'd hugged her. Your heartbeat sped up, but it wasn’t the warmth of tears that you felt on your face.

It was a hand, cupping against your lips, pushing harshly to muffle any sound that would escape.

“Not a sound.” Hushed a voice, which you could only hear because it had spoken so close to your ear. Stricken with fright, you fought your head out of their hold, eyes snapping open and immediately looking into the lilac eyes of the girl who had given you such a warm welcome earlier. With the same big eyes she had pierced your gaze mere hours before, you took in her face again. You reached forward, both your hands pushing at her chest to create some distance.

Yennefer stumbled backwards.

“You come into my room, unannounced, and jump at me from the dark?” You voiced, eyes wide and breathing fast.

Yennefer didn’t feel like wasting her breath on starting a discussion with you, not this time, not when she was already this exhausted.

“You’re too loud, quiet your damn mind or I fucking will.” Yennefer huffed, standing back up to her full height, as much as she could. She watched you, eyes full of fire, but her bottom lip pouting out made her look less intimidating than she wanted to be.

Baffled, you reached forward again, an accusatory finger pointed Yennefer’s way, “Get out of my room!”

"You know that they let a girl die in that bed four days ago?" She stated matter of factly, ignoring how your eyes widened, then glanced around your room. It was as if Yennefer found joy in tantalising you, “Why’s your fire out? Do you want to see how long it will take you to freeze to death? Desperate to set the record of how quick someone can die after arriving?”

Yennefer shrugged, continuing her one-way conversation, "Good luck with that then, they won't let you if they don't want you."

“I said get out.” You sneered in a whisper, still aware that Yennefer was in your room, during this time of night. You didn't know if this visit was breaking any rules, though you supposed it did. And Tissaia had warned you to keep to yourself for now.

“Why? It’s finally quiet, isn’t it?” Yennefer challenged, staring at your idle form on the bed.

She was right, you quickly realised. The thoughts were gone, the sensations now a mere memory.

You wondered, “Did you do that?”

“I can’t control your mind, we haven’t learned that yet. You did that yourself.” Yennefer grunted out the last part with a bitter taste in her mouth, realising that with your arrival, she might have to prove herself even harder. You weren't as useless as she deemed you to be when you'd looked halfdead already when Tissaia had carried you in. But she wouldn't let you have the satisfaction, “Be grateful, me coming here finally distracted you from those damned apple tarts of yours.”

Shocked, confused and intrigued all the same, you sat back up, “How did you know that?” You could faintly smell them already even at the mere thought of them.

"Know what?"

"About the apple tarts?"

Yennefer's shoulders tensed in irritation, “It’s something mages can do, transfer thoughts and visions... memories and such. Someone I know showed me that before. But that was by touch... and now I was on the other side of the hallway.” Yennefer let her words carry out in wonder, her voice dying down as the words she spoke found a place in her mind.

“But how did you know they were mine?”

“Didn't you come here covered in burns? All I saw was fire at first. It made sense.” Yennefer watched intently and saw how her words had struck you harder than she’d meant. But she couldn't let herself feel bad about it, not when you already had one on her without having even attended a single class, “Besides, all of us longed for home the first few weeks we came here. Don’t worry, they’ll chant that out of you, too, together with all you loved and knew of your life before. A puppet for the Brotherhood," Yennefer huffed, her thoughts wandering off, "That was your mother? Humming?”

You locked your jaw and threw off the linen sheets still half draped around your legs, being overcome with heat, hatred, and frustration. All the results of losing control of the situation.

You knew you should tell her to go and take control of the situation before things would go very wrong again. You could push her out if she didn't listen. But the way she'd asked if it had been your mother... well, it had irked something inside of you. So, instead, with a defying grin, you shot back, “You had quite a lot of siblings, a nice family, two loving parents, yes?” You decided to play by her rules and watched the tension in Yennefer’s uneven posture grow.

“Have.” Was all the lilac-eyed girl declared through gritted teeth.

“But didn't you just say that once you’re brought here, you begin a new life, fully devoted to the Brotherhood?" Yennefer's earlier explanation made it clear that some of the things you'd seen, had belonged to her mind. So, you added, "Or are you truly so keen on going back to the family that had you sleep among the pigs?” You knew it was low, that it went too far, but you could not help yourself. You were hurt, and she had known and made it hurt even worse anyway.

Yennefer took a step forward, hands balled in tight, white-knuckled fists, breaths puffing out of her nose. She hid her surprise and hurt and masked it with anger, as she always did. You were a worthy opponent in this clash, but she knew she had the upper hand after having seen flashes of your life.

“At least I have a family to return to.”

Within an instant, startling even Yennefer who masterfully hid it behind an intrigued glance, you jumped up. Face to face, you could feel Yennefer’s warm breath tickle your skin in intervals, your own fanning that of Yennefer as well. She watched intently, waiting for what would happen next. Letting you make the next move so she would know exactly how to one-up you.

But what had started as eyes reflecting hatred, turned to eyes full of tears soon after. She quickly realised she’d gone too far. She’d brought someone down to the lowest place in existence, a place that wasn't foreign to her, and she hated how the sudden feeling of euphoria and power tapping against her chest had disappeared. The scars on her wrist started to pulse as if they were berating her.

The fire in your eyes and belly had just been lit as if a Witcher had stood behind you and cast Igni over your shoulder. You watched as Yennefer’s eyes softened slightly and a sense of understanding replaced the harshness. You could not watch the change happen for too long, because her face disappeared from your view entirely a second after.

Yennefer’s only instinct was to duck when the shrill sound of glass shattering with high force rang through the room. Shards and glass particles danced around you before falling to the floor in a cacophony of deadly crystal rain. Where other pieces fell idle on the floor, some had thrown themselves into the hardwood floors, sticking out like shiny traps.

You had ducked down not long after, trying to peek through the arms that had shielded your face from the shards. The floorboards buzzed in the aftermath.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Yennefer yelled above the rain and wind that had finally been welcomed inside, as the piercing cold slapped against your faces. Your panic only intensified when you realised you had been the one behind this blast as you looked down at where you stood, the shards having stopped in a circle around the two of you. There had been no fire for your chaos to latch onto, so it had taken the next best rumbling thing to attract— the storm outside.

Yennefer’s words had caused the implosion inside of you before the explosion currently unwrapping around you had introduced itself. What terrorised your thoughts even more, was the realisation that a slight vortex of wind had started to take shape around the room, slowly collecting whatever stood in it.

The storm had answered your beckoning, but now you kept quiet, so it decided to do its own thing.

“Cut it off!” Yennefer shrieked, her hands flailing around her in the dark before finally coming across one of your wrists. She found the other not long after and used them to harshly yank the two of you fully onto the ground. She squeezed the blood out of your hands, no doubt leaving bruises in the flesh. Then she yanked again, a silent but urgent plea to stop whatever you were doing, and to stop it now.

Instantly, the room went oddly quiet, aside from the occasional object slowly losing its movement and coming to a spinning or falling end. It was as if the world had stopped momentarily, as the howling and clashing of the storm now seemed further away than it ever had before. Another yank on your wrists made you look up into Yennefer’s violet eyes. Your ears popped, and you could breathe again. Sound returned and so did the realisation of the severity of what had just happened. The room was in complete disarray, and, to be fair, so were the two of you.

“What did you do?” Your lips quivered as your eyes took in the destruction and the broken windows, making it easy for the wind to blow your hair into your faces. Still, you could clearly see the violet eyes of the girl in front of you going wide from the accusation.

“How is this my fault?! What the fuck did you do?” Yennefer ricocheted, panic increasing, “You razed this place!”

You inched closer, upping the tension between you, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Because you couldn’t leave me alone!”

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and in walked Tissaia and two other mages, all clearly just woken from their sleep. The two of you turned to the door and you were pretty sure that the women could hear your heartbeat even from their distance.

Tissaia took a step further into the room, examining the damage, cupped her hands in front of her and then inspected the two of you. You pushed yourself back up immediately, but not before sending a nasty glare Yennefer's way. You didn't want to know the amount of trouble she had just gotten you in.

“Can the two of you explain what in the world has happened here and why you are out of bed?” Her stern gaze that spat fire was directed equally between the both of you, and you felt some sense of relief that maybe you wouldn't get all the blame. “Now.” Aretuza’s rectoress spoke slowly, intensifying her stare to make the severity known, if the state of the room hadn’t already done so.

Yennefer stumbled up, locking her jaw and grinding her teeth together. Neither of you said a word.

“Very well. My office.” Tissaia turned around, exchanged a look with the two mages who no doubt were having to stay up to fix the room, and disappeared into the hallway, expecting the two of you to follow her.

“Now you’ve done it.” You huffed and left the room, leaving Yennefer to mutter something under her breath before eventually following, too.

Tissaia was already sitting behind her desk when you arrived and motioned to the vacant seats by dipping her head. Yennefer rolled her eyes and stayed back as she watched you sit down without a protest. Tissaia’s eyes now went to Yennefer,

“Sit or I will make you wish you’d sat on your own accord, piglet.”

Begrudgingly, Yennefer stumbled forward, hating how her uneven posture made her feel small and frail instead of powerful and confident as she sat down.

“Talk.” She directed her venom towards Yennefer first, but the girl shrugged,

“You should really replace the windows of this damned place more often, they’re not prone to this kind of storm, as it seems.”

“They’re protected by Aretuza’s chaos, they’re indestructable. Would you be so kind to tell me how two young mages were able to break a Brotherhood barrier or should we start by why you were not in your own room after curfew?” Still, her stare and harsh words were directed towards Yennefer, who was beginning to find the entire situation all too unfair.

“I don’t know who she is, but clearly it was a misjudgement to take her in. Her control over her chaos is utter shit.” Yennefer started, nudging her head to the left, not sparing you a glance, too frustrated with the situation you’d gotten her in by almost blowing up the place.

“What were you doing in her room?” Tissaia repeated herself, growing impatient at Yennefer’s choice of words.

Yennefer didn't say a word, not wanting to admit to Tissaia that you had already managed to link minds with someone on your first day. Perhaps this was just a fluke, a one time thing. She would not bury her own grave by giving you indirect praise.

"Y/N?"

Your face was set in stone, but Tissaia's glare made you crack, "She came into my room and wouldn't leave."

“And?"

Now Yennefer sat up, "And she tore the place apart, that's it."

"There will be no pointing fingers until I know what happened exactly.”

“I don’t know what happened,” You spoke truthfully, “I felt restless, kept seeing things that had never been seen by my own eyes each time I closed them.”

Yennefer sank into the chair— great.

Tissaia’s face changed at this information, but she kept silent.

“I had lost control again before I realised it was slipping out of my grasp and everything happened all at once. Yennefer found me like that. That is all. Then I wanted her to leave, but she wouldn't.”

Yennefer’s head whipped to the side, her big eyes narrowing and her brows starting to furrow. What were you doing?

Tissaia wrapped her hands together and rested her chin atop of them, staring in a way that made you feel as if she could see right through you. For all you knew, she could, but you desperately hoped that wasn’t a thing mages could do and that it was limited to smells or visions of apple tarts.

It was an awkward couple of seconds as Tissaia kept staring. At last, she sighed and sat back in her chair, tapping a soft rhythm on the armrests as her gaze shifted between the two of you.

“You will spend each afternoon after class in this office and you won’t leave until you’ve succeeded the task I’ve given you. Starting right now.” Tissaia lifted up her finger to signal silence before Yennefer could butt in. Then, she shoved a golden tray across the desk. On it— a vase with one single flower, a blushing pink carnation, and next to it, an empty glass, “You will both transfer the water from the vase into the glass. I want no droplet left in the currently filled vase when you’re done. And if the glass shatters or the flower dies, you will reverse those mistakes as well. Understood?”

Yennefer sank down in her seat. This was advanced stuff considering she had only started at Aretuza a few weeks ago, and her levitation work was abysmal as well, to say the least.

“But I’ve just come here, I don’t know any-” You swallowed down your words at the look Tissaia gave you, the concern of blowing up not only a simple vase but Tissaia’s entire office lost into the background.

“Use your chaos.” She spoke each word with fervor as she looked at you both, as if to convey an ulterior message. One unknown to you, for now. “Control it. Bend it to your will. Direct it, don’t be directed. Learn from each other. But keep it bottled. Always. This world is in balance because all of our chaos is bottled, it is guarded, it is dealt with delicately. And you will now learn to do so, as well.”

She looked at you, then at Yennefer, and she watched your focus shift to the tray in front of you, where the sound of water being poured into a glass appeared. Then, Tissaia stood up and, before she left the room, put out the fireplace. She gave you a sharp look, and you know she'd done it because of you. Her footsteps dissipated in a slow fading echo and the two of you sat in silence for a beat.

Yennefer turned in her seat, confused, and watched as you stared at the carnation.

“Why did you do that?”

“You shouldn't have been in my room, but I was the one who got you in trouble, ultimately.”

"Oh- fuck off," Yennefer rolled her eyes at your chivalry, sensing you were one of those morally good people. The kind of people that wouldn't survive this type of world, but she knew you'd learn soon enough. "Did you forget the part I badmouthed your dead family?"

Your hands clenched, but you willed yourself to keep in control, "I said some unnecessarily mean stuff myself, do you remember?"

"So what? You want to be my friend now?"

"If this is you as a friend, then yeah, because I don't want you as an enemy, coming into my room at night for hell knows what." You bit back but with a slight air of lightheartedness.

Yennefer chuckled dryly and shook her head, “As if I should believe you after what went on between us. Barely even a day here and you're already acting like all the others— sucking up to Tissaia and upholding the peaceful act that we should all be friends.”

You turned in your seat, “You're doing a terrible job of hiding your jealousy."

"You fucking wish."

"Well, what is it, then? Because even if I haven't been here for long, I already know you’re sticking out like a sore thumb among the others-” You saw the split second of hurt on Yennefer’s face as she thought her looks were alluded to, “-by sticking your nose where you shouldn’t.”

“Ah, you seem to know me so well after we’ve only- what? Met twice? Tell me then, why do you think I hate this place?”

“I think you hate it because you don't fit in, and that terrifies you, because you've never fit in anywhere."

Yennefer finally turned quiet. You knew you had hit the nail on its head even before the words had left your mouth. It was too obvious, the insecurity practically painted onto her forehead.

Yennefer stared at the flower that seemed to mock her mood with all its glory. She’d been here for weeks now, and each day, she’d wanted to go back home. Sure, it had been exhilarating to find out she had chaos inside of her, but what good was it if she couldn’t even lift a stupid little pebble? Her conduit moment had forced her into this life, and she hated the lack of choice, yet, she didn’t want to go back to her old life either, to being unwanted and treated worse than the cattle she'd had to sleep next to. But this place… it had brought out the worst in her. Frustration, unhealthy competitiveness, resentment, envy, insecurity, hatred. It had even turned into an attempt to end her life during the first night. Perhaps she had been a little too harsh on you after all. Instead of crying yourself to sleep, you were stuck here with the crazed hunchback you no doubt thought she was. How else could you? Yennefer could feel the way people stared at her, and while it had been awful in her old life, those stares had turned unbearable here. She felt like the ugly goose in a lake full of swans. She was the ugly goose. And if she hadn’t been so self-aware, she would have still known she was by the number of times she’d been called names back home in her village.

But you… you were one of the swans. Perhaps the brightest and most promising of the bunch even when she first saw you filled in muck and burns. Maybe exactly because of that. It showed a conduit moment far greater than freezing a cat or making your mother fat. And if she needed proof, it had been shown to her on a silver platter just now, as the chamber had fallen victim to hazardous destruction by your doing. It was unfair. Powerful and pretty shouldn’t be allowed to coerce together. One could not have the best of both platters, but Yennefer knew that in this environment, that was exactly what was wanted. Being powerful earned respect…fear... but being pretty meant that people would hang onto your every word, would agree with everything you said and would move mountains for you, no questions asked. And, it didn't hurt to get some good attention for a chance. One day, Yennefer knew she would get that chance. But being powerful… well, no ascension could change her chaos. Not really. And the only way she could ascend and become beautiful, was if she was skilled and powerful enough to earn it. No court would want an ugly mage, but a pretty mage lacking the powers a sorceress needed to possess was useless to them, too. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it had been people like you who’d put her there. People who'd had it all from the beginning, and then whined because they thought they had it worse. Still, she couldn’t help but spark a tiny flicker of intrigue towards you. She was certain you held more magical capabilities with no knowledge of the entire chaos ladder than Sabrina held after months of practice and studies.

“How did you do that, back there, in the room?” She wondered after a while, brushing off how she'd left you hanging on your clever observation.

“You say it in such a tone that makes me think I should be proud of it.”

“Because you should.”

“No, I should not, if you hadn’t pulled me out of it, I would’ve likely taken the entire tower down with us.”

Yennefer licked her lips, “So, what I’m hearing there is an unspoken thank you for not making you a mass murderer.”

Your heart clenched at the awful irony in that, but then you saw the tiniest pull of Yennefer’s lips turn them into a small smile.

Quietly, and feeling defeated as you looked at the golden tray on Tissaia’s desk, you muttered, “It all wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t said those things.”

Yennefer’s trying smile disappeared soon enough, her eyes inspecting the tray as well, “Perhaps.”

“If you try a little harder, it could almost start to sound like an apology.” You quipped back, not missing the fact the girl had at least shown the slightest hint of remorse. Still, her words had hurt, and your heart was still breaking each moment your mind went back to the family you no longer had.

Yennefer shrugged absentmindedly, still in deep thought.

“Well, it’s a very timid one then. You should work on that.”

“What we should really work on is Tissaia’s task. I’ve only just touched upon levitation work, water bending is something else entirely.”

“I’m afraid that tonight I’ll ruin not only my chamber, but this office as well.”

Yennefer watched you shift in your seat uncomfortably, staring at the never-ending rain tapping against the window. Then she huffed out a chuckle, liking the dry sense of humour that had slipped past your lips, even if you didn't seem to be aware of it. Maybe especially because of that reason.

“Tissaia said that a healthy balance is needed. Power must come from something, a sacrifice has to be made.” Her voice lulled you out of your worries.

You thought about it, “The water is practically already there, so that means-”

Yennefer nodded, “-we can use that very same water as a balancing factor while we transfer. It’s already there, there’s no conjuring it. Making sure our chaos is trapped within that water and stays there at all times and doesn’t bounce off, is key.”

“You know a lot.”

Yennefer made a face, “These are the basics that get repeated to us each and every hour. It’s simple.”

“The existence of chaos doesn’t sound so simple. Two days ago I didn’t even know what it meant. I still don’t.”

“Yet you throw it around without care.” Yennefer rolled her eyes, not liking how you sounded just like Fringilla who always acted like she had no clue, but then succeeded within the first attempt. “Maybe you should sit this one out before we go blind by the shards of glass flying into our eyes.”

“She said the both of us.”

“Right, I forgot you were her little lapdog.” Yennefer stood to pick up the vase and inspected it. She pulled the flower out and watched the water dance inside as she swirled it around.

“A carnation,” You noted, continuing as Yennefer turned to you, “You know each colour holds a different meaning? The pink ones have a motherly kind of-”

“I don’t care.” Yennefer huffed in frustration and dipped the flower back into the vase, not having the faintest idea how to get the task done, but she’d felt the rejection in the soft sigh sounding from behind her, “Unless that information will help us out.”

Dejected, you stood up and looked around the office— there were bookcases filled to the brim with books that, no doubt, held a lot of knowledge of chaos and powers; trinkets lined the wooden surfaces above a large chest that looked macabre yet intriguing, pots of plants you didn't want to touch were lined up atop the windowsills, cabinets filled with vails and jars of what you assumed were different kind of herbs, all kinds of different shaped, sized, textured and coloured stones were sprawled out in an organised mess on a table in the corner and finally, the most normal thing in the entire room— a globe of the Continent.

The large bell coming from the tower suddenly broke the silence, ringing thrice to signal the hour of the night.

“Maybe we can find something in these books?” Yennefer followed your actions and she started to let her eyes roam across the bindings to find anything that sounded familiar enough to help. You felt your attention get tugged to the far right, to a row just above your eyesight.

Giambattista's Forces of Elements.

You pulled out the book and read the index, eyes then quickly falling onto the last of the long row of chapters.

Fire Magic and its Dangers.

“What’s that you got there? Elemental Magic?” Yennefer hummed, pulling the book out of your hands and skimming through it, “How to change the weather… how to manipulate the earth… how to… water, water-” She mumbled to herself, “Fire magic?”

Your head leapt up in curiosity, “What does it say?”

Yennefer looked at you, but as soon as she saw the word forbidden in the same sentence, she, too, became intrigued,

“Within the bounds of the usage of chaos, fire magic is strictly forbidden because of its destructive nature and the corrupting effects it has on those who use it. It often leads to dangerous consequences that can cause permanent corruption of one’s chaos and mind and often leads to death. It is the only type of magic that can both destroy and consume and asks the user to tap into the negativity stored inside, making it tempting for one’s chaos to lose control-” She stopped to look at you, but you ushered her to go on,

“The usage of fire magic often comes with a heavy price, for with this kind of chaos, the sacrifice is far greater than the result.”

“Chaos comes at a cost.” You nodded, having learned that the hard way.

“Starting to learn already,” Yennefer mumbled absentmindedly before skimming further through the book, “Here- Standard Practices of Bending Water. To bend water to their will, one must first focus on the balance to keep their chaos strapped within bounds before continuing to ground one’s existing being to find the balance around them. A strong mind and solid and rested soul are the key to directing an elemental force that can both bend, mend, block and destroy. As water isn’t afraid to burn in fire, fade into the sky, drown into the dark shroud of the earth or shatter against sharp rocks in rainfall, it is the most versatile element there is. It can dissolve into different kind of shapes depending on the mage’s needs. Water is both our up and down and can be found both above us in the sky or below us in the earth and is therefore the easiest found elemental balance, but not the easiest used. Great-” Yennefer muttered before continuing, “Because of its many states and forms, it is hard to use chaos to bend water to your liking. Young mages might find chewing or burning dried mint or lemon skin beneficial to hone this skill, as those are known to have natural properties that can help remove impurities from water, removing any contrarian factors and thus making the transition to use one’s chaos to bend this element easier." Yennefer clapped the book closed, "Well, that was a load of bull.”

“It didn’t say anything about transferring water?”

“Nothing about incantation either.”

“There are incantations you can use?”

“Another thing learned,” Yennefer sighed out uninterestingly.

Your eyes examined all the books in front of you, “You know, kindness would suit you."

“Like that’s ever gotten anyone anywhere in this world.”

“Wow, someone must have really hurt you for you to be this bitter.” You huffed, done being kind, proving Yennefer’s point, and walked to Tissaia’s cabinet full of herbs. You read all the labels on the pots, which were thankfully placed in alphabetic order, “Here, mint leaves.”

Yennefer put one in her mouth, started to chew, and grabbed the vase with water in one hand, the empty glass in the other.

“The book said to ground yourself first.”

“I am grounded.” Yennefer snapped sharply.

“I can see that.” You shot back.

Yennefer felt the inside of her mouth tingle from the mint and tried to focus on the water. If she could just make a ripple, anything, to show she could move the water, she’d feel a lot better.

“Maybe try removing the flower. It might interfere since it’s a living thing and could use the water as power to stay alive?”

Actually, Yennefer thought, that wasn’t such a daft comment, but fuck did she hate how you had been the one to make it. She watched as you plucked the carnation out of the tiny vase, twirling it in your fingers.

“Or, maybe, you could use the flower, too? Since it holds chaos, right?”

Once again, Yennefer hated how sharp your observation was. Tissaia had said to use whatever was at hand to provide the balance they needed, and you had heeded her advice. She looked at the flower dangling in front of her, stared at you before whisking it out of your hands and setting her teeth into a few petals. They didn’t taste nearly as good as they smelt, but that was of no importance to her now.

"What are you doing?!" You couldn't help but ask, finding it incredulous. But Yennefer ignored you, liking how she knew what she was doing this time, and you had no clue. It let her ease up a bit again. She'd had hours of lessons, you hadn't.

“If this all doesn’t work, we could just pour the water from one glass to the other,” Yennefer sighed, surprised that you let out an honest laugh.

“I don’t think she is one to fall for such tricks. Suppose she wants to see us do it.”

“Right,” Yennefer muttered, licked her lips, rolled her neck and clenched her jaw shut again, severely focusing on the water. Seconds passed. A minute. Then two. Nothing happened. She was feeling the exhaustion from the lack of sleep now, and her mind was still a little fuzzy from the class experiment. Yennefer started to shake and you reached out to stop her trembling hands, “Maybe you should-”

“-maybe you should shut up and let me do it!”

A cold splash hit both your hands as the water from the vase got blasted out. She looked at the water soaking up the floorboards, then at you.

“At least it’s out of the vase…”

Yennefer glared at you, “I almost had it! I could feel it start to move!”

“Sure, it just went the wrong way. It really looked like you knew what you were doing." You were starting to grow sick of how she kept snapping at you, "Look, we can just try again. There’s a pitcher over there."

You refilled it for her, “Go.”

Yennefer stared at you, at the way your brows were furrowed at her in slight annoyance... but also in slight intrigue, as if you were desperately waiting to see what Yennefer could bring forth.

Yennefer bit off another petal and chewed, starting all over, but with more confidence this time. She looked to her left again, right into your eyes and felt she could take a deeper, more grounded breath this time as it travelled all the way to her lower abdomen. Her fingers tingled, her chest warmed up, then her neck, then her arms and ultimately, her hands. The water started to bubble, splutter and dance against the edges of the vase as if Yennefer was tumbling the vase around, but her hands were frozen in place. You leaned in, amazed, this being the first time you'd seen the good kind of chaos. Yennefer closed her eyes, her ears ringing and her heartbeat now loudly pulsing inside her head. Her chaos was speaking to her. It was making itself known, just not loud enough yet for her to answer.

Tissaia approached the room, surprised by the silence. In her line of work, that never really meant good news. She made sure to take each step with great care to not announce her approaching presence. Once at the door, she peeked through the gap and watched. The two girls looked to be in great concentration. Tissaia noticed the opened book, the pot of herbs and the half-chewed-up flower lying dormant on her desk. She could feel the girl’s exhaustion from their previous endeavour, and their chaos hadn’t been spared by trying to get this task completed either.

“Watch your breathing, the water stops when you stop,”

She could hear your muffled voice and watched as Yennefer only nodded and made work of the advice instead of snarking back a reply. The sound of tiny singular drops falling into the empty glass filled the room, but from Tissaia’s spot in the hallway, the only proof that something seemed to be happening, was the gasp that Yennefer released.

Smiling softly to herself, Tissaia took a deep breath and opened the door, catching the two of you by surprise. She made a point to look at the items you had gotten by going through her stuff, without permission, then eyed the glass.

“It’s been a long night, perhaps tomorrow, after some hours of sleep, you’ll be able to transfer more than just a few teardrops.” She took place in front of her desk and leaned against it, watching as you stared at her, still bewildered, “Go now, off to bed. I want to see the two of you here tomorrow.”

“My room-”

“Is back to its original state. I suggest you keep it that way.”

You sauntered off, but before Yennefer could exit too, Tissaia held her back by her arm. She intently stared at the mage’s violet eyes, looking for something behind them, then let go. Tissaia turned around and watched the two of you disappear, knowing something had been set in motion.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

-𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀

#yennefer of vengerberg x reader #yennefer imagine #yennefer of vengerberg fic #yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg imagine #the witcher imagine #the witcher fic

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child-of-the-danube · 10 months

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Well, the Witcher ended here for me. The beating heart of Aretuza, gone together with it...

Nobody talk to me, I'm mourning a fictional character again 💔

#tissaia de vries #the witcher #the witcher season 3 #yennefer of vengerberg #she started the note with Piglet #I am not ok #😭😭😭😭

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evies-frye · 10 months

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“we will concede you are the most powerful of mages. the beating heart of aretuza” THATS RKGHT SHES IS!!

#the witcher spoilers #tissaia de vries

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ragnarssons · 10 months

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i legit gotta understand, how the s3's yennefer storyline is like "oh noooo aretuza is destroyed :(((((( ooooh but the girls are gonna miss it so much :(((((( and tissaia is saaaad :(((( and they will come together to build it back up!!! yayyy!!!" and i'm like-

i'm sorry, am i supposed to see aretuza as anything but another spoke on the patriarchy wheel that has been ruling over and ruining these lands for way too long? like, it's ruled by men "the brotherhood", where tissaia, the only woman member has had to fight for hundreds of years to get there (and it's up to discussion but all i saw was her being used as a pawn and being belittled by dirtass men). tissaia who herself, became like the oppressors of young girls she "taught" while simultaneously abusing them, or murdering them, (yes because i consider turning some of them into eels so that they power the power house, as murder) not caring if they disappear??! from right under her nose (and that's on s3 so i'm really supposed to see any evolution in her?) all in the name of ancient men-decided rules. aretuza that allowed men like stregobor to thrive and do whatever the f*ck they wanted with women, including young girls whom he murdered, tortured and experimented on. they knew, they knew all along! even tissaia knew! the place was built out of the oppression and murder of elves, treated as slaves and then disposed of, for their carcasses to use as foundations for the place. hello?! and best of all these scenarios, these young girls turned into "witches" would then be literally given to rich kings, depending on their prettiness, to sell either s*xual favors in exchange of a modicum of respect and -very fading- power (yennefer, philippa, sabrina, etc), or be treated like shit and used and abused once more (cough cough, fringilla). and tissaia presented yknow, neutering these girls in exchange of their power "an evolution" from pregnant women being "banished" from aretuza back in the past, like wow, evolution sure is something. like sure i do understand yennefer and tissaia mending their relationship through time and as yennefer grows and tissaia evolves (even thoooo... well i'd have STUFF to say about that). but yennefer with the brotherhood and aretuza? i really don't understand the dedication. on s2 the brotherhood wanted to kill her, even after what she did in sodden, that saved everyone. on s2 stregobor tortured yennefer and was never punished for it. on s2 yennefer fled aretuza and the brotherhood and they treated her like shit. don't understand how she'd even think ciri would be safe there, and i don't understand why she's willing to sacrifice her life as a mother with geralt and ciri, for this shithole. like yeah, somehow the brotherhood persuaded everyone that they were "the keepers of the peace between the kingdoms" but duh, that's obviously a lie. the brotherhood and aretuza alike got played like a fiddle by vilgefortz and only three of these women even saw it, and were treated like shit by their peers (some of them at least) for trying to change things. out of this whole place, triss seems like the only one with a freaking beating heart in her still. SO. AGAIN. WHY TF AM I SUPPOSED TO CARE? i legit cheered when fringilla murdered her shitass uncle. i cheered when stregobor died, and i was on philippa's side. and yennefer i'm sorry honey, but i do not care about how sad you are about this fucking wretched place being destroyed. it should be.

#the witcher #the witcher lb #the witcher spoilers #i swear when they were all sobbing at the end of ep8 #about how uwuwuuuw the whole place is destroyed #i was like HUUUUUUUH YES GOOD #ffs is that stockholm syndrome or something #i really don't get it #how they don't question it #how it's not more heavily adressed if they do #because they seem so passive and stupid #and im so sad to feel like yen is trapped in a storyline i hate #she was good on s1 when she was FAR AWAY from that shithole and hated it #when falka was like 'burn it to the ground' to ciri #i was at the point of being like 'yeah do it babe'

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log6 · 10 months

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I see why the Witcher people are mad about this season 😭. Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza (and apparently its "beating heart"), and "among the most powerful mages on the Continent, uses an incredibly powerful lightning summoning and channeling "spell of last resort" called Alzur's Thunder from a balcony onto the courtyard of her academy which has become a battlefield during a multi-sided coup, not only summoning a thunderstorm, but directing its power through the Tower of the Gull onto the battlefield, and she continuously electrifies the battlefield for a very extended period of time......... somehow only killing extras? Not a single important character? Not even exhausting the enemy mages from shielding themselves from the lightning?

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okruchlodu · 7 months

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They’ve been riding for a while now, enjoying, for once, a slow, languid morning as they make their way to the other side of the city where Yennefer is meant to meet with an old friend that shall provide shelter enough for the both of them until they can press onwards and to Aretuza. They’ve been pleasurably chatting away, too, the morning breeze carrying in it the salt of the ocean below, and the sorceress watches the sun rise higher and higher in the sky, and beyond the city, the sea; greygreen, and sparkling in the morning sun, flecked with the white froth of waves crashing into the harbour.

❝— it is a power stone. A magical item… Or rather a cut gemstone that stores Chaos and enchantments one can summon forth at will. Tissaia gave me such a one when I was half your age… Quiet a marvelous thing, really. — ugh! Ciri, must you ride into every puddle in the road? Your cloak will be soaked in mud and slop by the time we make it to the city!❞ Yennefer cuts herself off and sighs sharply, exasperated, and reins in her horse at the edge of a sandy drop, coming to stand near Ciri now, who stands as though transfixed, near the cliff. Down at the foot of the hill beyond the city, a river sparkles, meandering sharply among meadows and clusters of trees. Forests stretch out beyond it, and to the south, the leaves of the trees flooding the horizon, the colour of withered vine-leaves, bright red, scarlet. The view unfolding before them, is absolutely captivating, the ocean on one side, the forests on the other, and Yennefer deigns allow the girl enjoy it, if only for a moment. She tosses her head sharply and casts her gaze upon Cirilla, watching as the sun drips over her sweet little face, bright in the sheen of her eyes, emerald. A faint, soft smile flits about the enchantress' lips, and she feels a sudden surge of tenderness seize her as she watches her rapt little face, her heart skipping a beat. Heavens, how she loves this child; cherishes it as though her own, in spite not bearing her herself. Sometimes the enchantress, can scarcely breathe for it. There's not one thing in this world, she would not do for her. Not one. She loves Cirilla, truly; deeply; beyond all measure, beyond any other love, beyond life itself.

@xradiant

#& ciri — xradiant #& ciri.#AAAAH I hope its ok bb!!#xradiant

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rolangf · 9 days

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🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️ + loml sibyl

🖋️—in-game, upon first seeing SIBYL, she looks behind geralt and is like “is that little wretch with you this time? he better not be.” of course referring to dandelion and geralt is like. “what’s your gripe w him. is it anna henrietta related” and she says “no he is just supremely annoying. and also a whore”. (it’s always abt anna henrietta she can’t help it)

🖋️—outright refuses to play gwent with geralt, even after he offers up her own gwent card if she beats him. the dialogue tree after that is her being scandalized abt him having her gwent card and demands to know how he got it. as keira asked of him, he doesn’t tell her. glares at him so hard it’s like the physical embodiment of the sims double minus conversation status.

🖋️—occasionally visits corvo bianco to visit geralt and yen. they don’t have to tell her they’re home. she knows. she can feel the vibes. she does enthusiastically show up to that party (that in my heart was canon) that happened in the 10 year anniversary video cdpr made. she’s quietly observing the game of gwent happening cs she actually doesn’t even know how to play— the reason she refuses to play w geralt. that’s embarrassing tho so she doesn’t tell anyone.

🖋️—was actually born and raised (for a while) in toussaint. she could never really pinpoint why exactly she never felt comfortable anywhere post-aretuza until she came back to toussaint once with fringilla and realized it was that she just wanted to be home.

#ohhhh sibyl sibyl sibylllllllll #she is such a whimsy-less creature #for having literal magic coursing through her bloodstream like every little girls dream #asks #stella #oc: sibyl delauvéy

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witchersgoldenbard · 2 years

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Yennefer tries not to dwell on days long past, keeps her mind on the present and her eyes in the future instead. But there is a sense of nostalgia that overcomes her every time she meets Jaskier’s eyes like this. Gentle, unguarded, and filled with endless affection, his eyebrows quirked as if in challenge, daring her to call him out on his softness.

She never does. Only loses herself in that not-quite-there smile that has always been more in his eyes than on his lips, and lets her mind drift as her chest fills with warmth.

It’s this notion whenever she has him like this, lying next to her in bed, seeing her for who she really is, playing with her hands until she has to lace their fingers for him to stop.

This notion that makes her mind wander back to her younger self, knowing with certainty that Jaskier is somehow all she had ever wanted before she got to Aretuza. It’s a feeling unlike any other, to know that you’re with someone your past self would have loved just as much as your present self does.

She can’t put it into words properly, but she knows Jaskier could. There’s not a lot of things he can’t do when it comes to the matters of her heart.

“What’s on your mind, darling?” he murmurs then, his index finger gently running along her knuckles.

There were times when Yennefer would have ignored his question, would have simply deflected or leaned over to kiss him silent. And he always let her, though his eyes never could quite hide his hurt and resignation.

She doesn’t want to hurt him, not when her heart belongs to him, not when her thoughts do, too.

“I dreamed,” she begins, flipping their hands gently and playing with his in turn, revelling in the twinkle in his eyes. Her heart beats faster, lighter, and only for him. “When I was younger, I dreamed of being important to someone. I dreamed of having a friend. Someone who’s there, who understands, who sees me as I am and doesn’t ask for more.”

His lips twitch, but before he can say anything, he takes his fingers between her own and brings his hand up to her lips, brushing kisses over his knuckles.

“I never dreamed of a bard. But now I have one. And sometimes it occurs to me how you’re everything I wanted for a long time, so long that I almost forgot that I wanted anyone in the first place. I have you now. And sometimes having you feels like the final act of kindness toward the person I was before the workings of Chaos and Destiny. An act of kindness to the scared, lonely little girl. So, I guess you’ve just given me something I never knew I needed, nor let myself hope to ever find it.”

Yennefer has learned to talk to him in a way that still astounds her in this moment, and it’s only because she knows he listens, because she knows he cares.

All of that leaves her feeling almost more powerful than complicated and ancient spells ever could.

Especially when he smiles at her, his fingers moving from her lips up to her cheek, caressing the skin and making her close her eyes.

“I’ll be your friend,” he whispers. “I’ll be your bard. I’ll be your everything for as long as you’ll have me.”

Warm lips find hers in a gentle kiss, and Yennefer doesn’t let him go when he tries to pull back.

Be my everything indeed.

tagging: @yaskefer @horsedadgeralt @wanderlust-t @toboldlynerd @natilieal @luteandsword @wherethewordsare @daisyyydaisyyydaisyyy (i always forget who to tag, sorry)

#jaskier #yennskier #yennefer of vengerberg #yenskier #the witcher #nat writes #witcher fanfic #this is secretly for yaskefer #it’s short but i felt like giving myself a goodnight story and i love the idea of loving jaskier being an act of self love

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queenxxxsupreme · 2 years

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Hi! I am intrigued with your ideas for Netflix!Eskel and witch!reader. You made her character really confident I think, but can I ask for a drabble or anything when Eskel sees her really vulnerable side and it quite affects him? You have brilliant ideas so I don't want to impose anything, but if my request is too general then maybe reader losing someone very dear to her and not coping well with grief and all those feelings that follows such situations.?

A/N: Soooo I ended up doing two different versions for this.... I did one where she loses someone but I haven't completely finished it yet so it will be posted at a later date. I just really love the relationship and chemistry between witch!reader and netflix!Eskel! Ugh i love them. So I hope you don't mind!!

Note: This takes place in the same universe as Any Semblance of Touch and Down A Chilling Hall, A Fire Grows(nsfw) which are all witch!reader x Netflix!Eskel :)

Warnings: mentions of previous trauma/torture, mentions of scars

“Something smells delicious.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Eskel walking into the kitchen.

“Triss is making something.” You nodded towards the fire. “A sweet bread of some sort.”

The witcher didn’t care to pay attention to what was in the oven. Instead, he watched you as he walked around the table in the center of the kitchen.

You pretended not to notice his staring issue and focused on your mug of tea.

He tapped his fingers along the table, whistling.

“What do you want, witcher?” You sighed, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“Nothing.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. He leaned against a table, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You want something.” You took a few heaping spoons of sugar and put it into your tea.

“I never said I wanted– For fuck’s sake, witch! You think you’ve got enough tea to go with that sugar?”

You furrowed your brow as you looked up at him, fighting the urge to grin. He laughed, shaking his head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“That was enough sugar for the entire Cintran Army!”

“I’ve never seen such a thing in all my life.”

“Well now you have.” You mixed the sugar into your drink and then put the spoon on the table so that you could take a sip of the warm drink.

He ran a hand over his face, pushing strands of dark hair out of his eyes.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“Amaze you?” You cocked an eyebrow at his choice of words.

“Not in a good way either. Who the hell uses ten pounds of sugar in their tea?”

“You leave my tea alone, Mr. I-Drink-Mahakaman-Mead-First-Thing-In-The-Morning.”

“Mahakaman mead is a fine drink.”

“If you’re an alcoholic, perhaps.”

The little grin on his lips tugged at the scarred corner of his lips. Absentmindedly, his hand came up to rub the right side of his face.

A few moments of silence fell between you both before Eskel decided he was going to ask the question that had been bugging him since he had first seen the scar that crossed your chest.

He recalled exactly where it was on you. It started just beneath your left collarbone and extended down between the valley of your breasts, then ended beneath your right breast. The cut had been done with something sharp as the scar itself wasn’t jagged, and from what he could see, it appeared deep.

Eskel moved away from the table he was leaning against and walked to the one your tea was resting on. He leaned against the tabletop with his hands, blue eyes flickering over the worn wood momentarily.

For some reason, his heart began to beat quickly.

You could hear the change in his heartbeat, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. You were more focused on how nervous the witcher looked.

“Ah, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, pushing himself away from the table.

“Is something wrong, witcher?”

He retrieved a tankard from a shelf and found a jug that still contained ale.

“I’ve got a question for you, witch.”

“Oh, brother.” You sighed.

“I thought whatever ceremony Aretuza put you sorceresses through during graduation got rid of your scars.” He turned back to face you once his tankard was full.

“It does.” You knew why he was asking and a part of you wanted to take that memory from him, to erase his knowledge of your scar. But you were very well aware of the fact that he would probably see it again.

Eskel nodded his head, looking down at the liquid in the vessel in his hand.

“What happened to you?” His voice was quiet. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud, you’d mistake his curiosity, his concern, for mockery or something that it wasn’t meant to be.

You took a soft breath through your nose, tapping your nails against your mug of tea.

“I hardly think that’s any of your business, witcher.” You answered, your tone even and calm. He half expected you to lash out, to make the tankard in his hands explode or to cast some sort of witchy spell on him.

“I’ve never seen you self-conscious of yourself.” Eskel shook his head. “It isn’t my business…. But it makes me curious.”

You said nothing.

He reasoned that if you didn’t want to talk about it, you would have stormed off by now, or even perhaps turned him into a slug.

“If anyone knows anything about scars, it’s me.” He gestured to his face, hoping that making light of something that took him years to come to terms with would in turn make you feel better.

But you were still silent. Your eyes lingered on his, but you said nothing.

Eskel could see it in your eyes, the pain hiding just around the corner. You were good at hiding that. It was second nature to you. The pain was kept safely tucked away behind a fire of spite and fury.

He placed his tankard down on the table and began to take slow steps around the table until he was next to you. He leaned against the table with his backside. This allowed him to face you since you were standing at the table properly.

“Just tell me who.” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke. “They’ll be dead come the first signs of spring.”

You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, looking downwards as a soft but sad smile came to your lips. When you looked back up to him, the wolf could see the pain more clearly now. The heartache and torment in your Y/E/C eyes.

Eskel’s stomach churned. He didn’t like seeing such emotions in your eyes.

“Sweet witcher. You’d commit murder for me?” You teased.

“I reckon there’s a lot I’d do for a delightful hellbeast like you.” He gave you a sideways grin, the gnarled right corner of his mouth pulling upwards.

Your chest tightened in a way you hadn’t felt for years as you realized this was perhaps the first time that your flirting with Eskel teetered on something more than just bickering and sexual teasing. This was something deeper…. something carrying emotion.

Your eyes flickered between his, letting out a little breath.

You looked away first, your eyes finding your tea.

“Scars only share stories of a past full of unpleasurable experiences.”

“Do you know the best way to fix that?” Eskel cocked his head to the side just a little as he looked down at you.

You hesitated to look up at him, forcing yourself to look up into those icy blue eyes you had come to seek out on a daily basis.

“Fill your future with pleasurable experiences.”

“That’s easier said than done, witcher.”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Life can be quite pleasurable when you begin to see things from the view of us lowly commonfolk.”

“Commonfolk? Is that what they call flea-ridden mongrels like you these days?”

“Very funny, witch.” He chuckled. “Commonfolk being anyone who doesn’t live in a lavish estate or have servants to tend to their every need.”

You looked around the kitchen for a moment, a bit confused.

“I’m not sure where the hell you’ve been, witcher, but I’ve been here for the last three years. And mind you, when you and your brothers go off to fight monsters and play with working ladies, I stay here.”

“Ah, but only because Kaer Morhen is hidden from the outside world.” Eskel held an index finger up. “The Nordlings cannot find you here. That hefty bounty hanging over your head doesn’t apply here.”

“Exactly.” You nodded, sipping your tea. “And I can assure you, nothing about staying in this bloody keep is lavish.”

“Hasn’t kept you from dressing as if you’re going to meet lords at any point in time and try to enchant them with your tits.”

You widened your eyes a little and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you upset because I dress like I have a bit of respect for myself and you dress as if you are a sad whore in the slums of Oxenfurt?”

Eskel chewed on his bottom lip, smirking. Your fire had returned.

“I’m not upset at all by your wardrobe choices. In fact, I quite enjoy them.” His fingers trailed along your arm, briefly admiring the smooth fabric on the sleeve to your dress. “But I’m simply suggesting that if you weren’t to act so…. high and mighty, perhaps you would enjoy life a little more.”

You thought about his words, swirling the last remnants of your tea around in the bottom of the mug.

“I wasn’t raised to enjoy this lifestyle.” You spoke quietly. “And that is meant with the utmost respect to Kaer Morhen. This place has provided me shelter for three years. I probably wouldn’t be alive if I weren’t allowed here.”

Eskel watched you, deciding his next few words carefully.

“I can imagine giving up your lifestyle wasn’t easy. What happened to make you have to go into hiding?”

You took a deep breath and moved to place your mug in the crate for dirty dishes.

“It’s not something I like to talk about.”

“I’ve gathered that.” He rolled his eyes. “Three years and I think I’ve only heard Jaskier mention King Branimor once. He didn’t seem too familiar with the man, nor did he seem fond of him.”

You turned to face the witcher, putting your hands on your hips.

“Why are you so concerned about me, witcher? About my scarring and-and about Branimor? No one else asks me those questions.”

“Because everyone else is afraid you’ll turn them into a bug of some sort.”

“And you aren’t afraid?”

“Of a pretty witch like you? Of course I am. But afraid that you’d cause me harm? Of course not.”

“Stupid witcher.”

Your crooked grin didn’t go unnoticed by him.

You began to leave the kitchen, so Eskel followed you.

“Have you heard the story of how I got these?” He rubbed his hand over his cheek, fingertips pulling at the ridges left behind from scarring.

“No.”

Eskel nodded his head. He had hoped you did hear the story. He didn’t wish to relive the memories, to recount what had happened.

“Well, I, uh, had a Child Surprise. Just like Geralt.” Eskel clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t want you to notice how much he was fidgeting with his fingers.

“You had a Child Surprise?” You looked over to the witcher.

“Deidre was her name. She was the princess of Caingorn. I, um, I saved her father’s life and the stupid bastard invoked the Law of Surprise.” Eskel shook his head, letting out a small breath.

“She was a troubled girl. Coming from Aretuza, I’m assuming you’ve heard of the Curse of the Black Sun?”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded. “Though I don’t believe in such affliction.”

“Well, claims and accusations were made that she was affected by the curse. I tried to help her, but I’m…. I don’t have the proper temperament for a child. She overheard a conversation I was having with Vesemir about her and she didn’t like what I was saying…. She fled Kaer Morhen and in the process of trying to stop her, she left me with a parting gift.”

“Have you seen her since?” You asked softly.

“She’s dead.” His voice was quiet, a somber tone taking over. He shook his head a little as he looked down the hall. “She didn’t last longer than a week after leaving this place.”

“What happened to her?”

“Sorcerers got ahold of her. Wanted to study her corpse to see how the curse affected her internally. I didn’t truly know what had happened to her until a few years later…. But I could feel the second she died. It’s an odd ability, I suppose you could call it, that those whose destinies are intertwined are burdened with.”

He paused for a moment.

“I should have done better by her. She deserved a chance.”

Silently you reached over to take his hand and squeeze, wordlessly letting him know that it was okay.

Now you felt that it was only right to tell him your story. He had just poured a chunk of his heart out to you in what had been the only heart to heart you two had had since you met, and you couldn’t just let him be.

You took a breath in, bringing your hands up to your waist so you could twist the rings on your fingers.

“I served Branimor’s father, King Anorack, for twenty years before his death. King Anorack was respectable and he was a good man. But his son was the opposite. A complete bastard. He wasn’t even half the man King Anorack was.” You locked your jaw for a moment, feeling an immense amount of anger welling in your gut just from talking about the subject. “Branimor was openly unfaithful to his wife, whom he treated almost as poorly as he treated those who worked within the castle. He was just…. He was an utterly disgusting man.”

“I heard stories of the shitstain. I think there are special places in hell for men who treat women the way he did.”

You nodded in agreement.

“He’s, um…. He’s the one….” You found yourself struggling to complete the sentence. All you could do was make the motion across your chest in the same direction that your scar traveled. “He-He was– I don’t think I-I can–,”

“It’s alright.” Eskel spoke.

You came to a stop in the hall, turning your body towards him even though you were still looking down the hallway to your left.

Tears welled in your eyes and you cursed at them. You swore you would be able to contain yourself, to keep yourself from doing such pitiful acts in front of him. But you hadn’t spoken out loud about what had led to your downfall since it had happened three years ago. The only two people you had told the entire story to was Triss and Yennefer, but you had known them for decades.

“He had- He made advances at me prior and-and I was stupid to not pay closer attention. It was so stupid. The sick bastard…. He had dimeritium handcuffs…. I swear to the gods, Eskel, I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.” You whispered.

It hurt the witcher to hear the strain in your voice as you fought the urge to cry. You were trying your hardest to keep your voice even and calm. But your trembling bottom lip and the tear that trailed down your cheek betrayed you.

Eskel wanted to comfort you, to make you feel better, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t sure if you would be okay with him doing so much as putting his hand on your shoulder. So he kept his hands to himself and stayed silent.

“I killed him. I killed the last king of Cravaria, and I am the reason the country no longer exists.”

“You survived.” Eskel said. “Branimor didn’t deserve his country.”

“But his people didn’t deserve to suffer because of it.”

“Maybe so, but you can’t blame yourself in whole for what happened.”

You said nothing. He didn’t know of everything that happened that day, of all the horrid things you did, of the chaos you let loose on Cravaria’s capitol. But you wanted him to know. You almost needed him to know.

You began walking again, hastily wiping your cheeks off.

“How much have you heard about the fall of Cravaria?”

“Well…. Assuming that you are being blamed and I’ve not heard anything on Branimor’s shortcomings, I think it’s safe to assume all that I have heard is complete shit.” Eskel followed next to you.

“Depends on what you’ve heard. For instance, I know there were stories spreading that I summoned two dragons from the earth and they laid waste to the capitol, setting the city alight.”

“That is one version I heard. Another involved a clan of trolls that split open the ground.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. It was foolish what people came up with.

“There were no trolls. The earth did split open, but not in the city. Only where the castle was. And the fires were started by riots, not dragons.”

“You split the earth open?”

You nodded, pressing your palms together firmly.

“There was so much…. anger inside me that day…. I thought for sure I’d be consumed by it. And I suppose I was for some time. The castle collapsed. Hundreds of people inside were killed.”

You paused for a moment as you approached a window at the end of the hall. You stopped at the window, peering out into the vast nothingness of white mountains.

“And now, I am left to rot here in the Blue Mountains because of what was done.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there is more to these mountains than just Kaer Morhen.” Eskel leaned against the wall next to the window. “You could always rot somewhere else that isn’t within the walls of the keep.”

“Oh, thank you. That makes me feel wonderful.”

He smiled softly, blue eyes flickering to look out of the window.

Your gaze stayed on him, taking the opportunity to admire his features while he wasn’t looking at you.

When he brought his attention back to you, he tilted his head to the side just a little.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You reached your hand out to fix how his medallion sat on his chest. “You just…. You amaze me, witcher.”

As you turned to walk away from him, his eyes followed you.

Taglist will be reblogged because tumblr hates me :)

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nnightskiess · 1 year

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everytime you leave, part three

₊° - 𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

everytime you leave, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞... and fell around her like a curtain, tickling your bare chest as the mage above you admired the view. The corner of her mouth twirled upwards into a challenging grin as the rapid beating of your heart fell in rhythm with hers. But where she welcomed the feeling and longed for more, you froze underneath her in return as you felt her touch against the scarred burn marks, which you had refused to get rid of during your ascension. Without your scars, there would no longer be a reminder of who you were before and the life you had led. Yennefer felt the rough and tattered skin underneath her fingertips and was reminded of the few threads you had let loose about your past through the years. Even if you had never told her what had happened, at least not in detail, she counted it as a victory that you let her see the remains of your past, of everything you had buried deep within yourself. Aretuza had approved of your request to keep some of your scars, only if you would get rid of those that would be in view of the lords and ladies you were going to advise. In their eyes, it wasn’t proper for a mage to look battered and bruised, like the brutes of the Continent. Your scars would only distract and take away the illusion of your elegance and graceful knowledge. You had agreed to the compromise, knowing that no one would ever see the scars from that day forward, except for yourself. And Yennefer, as it seemed.

It was as if the sudden cold breeze that travelled into the room and made you shiver had pulled you back to her. Her warm breath tickled against your neck as she slowly placed a chaste kiss right where she could feel your heartbeat pick up even more. She smirked and nibbled at the flesh against your collarbone when she felt your breathing fasten by your rising chest flushed against her own bare skin. Feeling her breasts against your own, however, did nothing to ease your mind. You wanted this. You had so for years. In all truth, there would never be a living day where you wouldn't want to be Yennefer's whole world, as she had been yours for as long as you could remember. But it gnawed on you that perhaps Yennefer didn't want you as badly as you had yearned and longed for her. She was the most enchantingly beautiful woman you had ever known, although you had thought so even before the change during the ascension, and knew that she could have a different man, or woman, in her bed each day if she wanted. If the renowned and skilled Witcher Geralt of Rivia wasn't able to keep her around, then how could you be more interesting to her? Besides, Yennefer of Vengerberg had never been shy about her body and led her life with a certain sensuality of which she knew the effect it had on the people that met her. What if you were just another night of fun for her, nothing more, nothing less? Then again, if that was all this would ever be, couldn't you just be greedy and take the offer currently presented to you on a golden platter?

"You think too much," She mumbled into your hair as her lips planted a kiss behind your ear, "You'll find you'll enjoy yourself much more if you just give in." She chuckled lazily, and you wondered if she was too drunk for you to let this go on.

But what did she mean? Give in to what? To Yennefer's fingertips softly grazing over your nipples and making their way further down? Or to the magnetic pull you had felt around her for years? One thing was certain; there was no going back, and things would change drastically whether this moment would be regretted or not. You cursed the bottles of brandy and apple cider you had torn through together when you tasted the sweet liquor on Yennefer's tongue as it slipped between your lips, softly massaging with your own.

"I'll take good care of you." She mumbled against your lips, her voice dripping with arousal and lust, but was alarmed when her wrist was clenched tightly by you. She retreated and those big, violet eyes looked down at you in worry. It should have been clear to you then and there, that you too were well past tipsy when you didn't look away under her stare like you normally would. Instead, you looked back into her softened eyes, those eyes that felt like a breeze travelling through a field of lavender on a Spring morning, but the blazing storm clashing against Aretuza's walls as well.

"Do you want me?"

There it was; the quiver in her voice that signalled she felt as small as she had on those first few nights at Aretuza. With a touch as soft as honey, the hand that wasn't locked by your grip found its way to yours, where her thumb grazed a lazy pattern on the back of your hand. Her touch was feathery and it amazed you how gentle your normally so outspoken, headstrong and temperamental friend was. That surprise wasn't fair of you, for you had seen past the layers years ago. You knew it was there, that soft side, but you were too intoxicated by the alcohol in your system and too addicted to her touch and attention to realise she needed your reassurance more than anything in this moment. And perhaps even too distracted to realise that for Yennefer, this was different. This wasn't a passionate night to let loose with someone she had no emotional attachment to. This was you, and she would take her time showing you how much you truly meant to her. But right now, she wanted and needed you to say it out loud. To grant her proof that she hadn't been delusional each time you two had left. Did you feel the same ache in your heart every time she left you? But, admitting it out loud was a leap far too big for you, at least for right now, seeing as you were afraid you'd spill all of your heart's secrets if you started.

Yennefer's lips parted slightly in worry as her eyes quickly wandered around the room to the table of empty cups and glasses. She wasn't too far gone, she knew how to handle her liquor, and perhaps you weren't either, but maybe she could play it off as if she were, as if this was but a mere drunken mistake, just to protect her heart in case she had misread things and you would reject her or look at her differently come morning. There was no one Yennefer would rather have in her arms than you, but she would never open her heart to even entertaining herself with the idea of it, seeing as she was fairly certain that there was no epic love waiting for her in this life or any of the next. Not even a Djin's wish had been able to grant her the dream to finally be of importance to someone. To love and to care and to protect, and to get all of it in return in thousandfold. But if she could just only show you how much you meant to her during this supposed drunken night, then shouldn't she just take the chance?

Her words had already vanished in the air and you felt as if too much time had passed to answer her now. Surely the way you looked at her was an answer of its own, right? Your hands travelled up her thighs that had you trapped in your place beneath her and rested comfortably on the curve of her hips. With a slight squeeze on her skin and a pull of your hands, Yennefer realised what you wanted her to do. Her hips rolled and at even the smallest touch of friction, a gasp escaped her mouth, followed by a low moan. When her lips parted and her raven locks fell in front of her face once more, you didn't close your eyes but looked up at her and felt your heart want to break through your ribcage, needing to remember this forever. You fell into a blissful haze, no longer being led by your inhibitions.

That night, Yennefer's body glued to yours was the only thing on your mind, not the inevitable aftermath or the thought that the same night that was making both your hearts explode, would also be the reason why they would shatter into a million pieces years later.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The nasty smells of animal carcasses had now been replaced by flesh cooking above an open fire. Night had fallen and after a long day of preparations, everyone could do with a filled stomach and a pint of ale. Yennefer had shut herself out from everything today and had not spoken a word ever since you had grabbed her heart and squeezed long enough until it had splashed and splattered. She had done her best to evade each conversation and shut down small talk with anyone around her, but it seemed that there was no avoiding people anymore if she wanted a plate of food.

She had grabbed the plate that was offered to her by one of the men standing above the pot of boiling beans with potatoes. She withheld a scowl when it made a distasteful sound as it fell against her plate. It had been ages since she'd had a poor man's meal like this, but she couldn't care less now that she felt the way she did. She wasn't even that hungry anyway. She sat to the side on one of the logs where she could silently absorb what was going on around her, but she wasn't granted her peaceful meal when Triss landed on a seat next to her. The redhead's slender fingers pried her piece of meat apart and gave Yennefer the other. Yennefer dipped her head in a silent thank you, but didn't want to give the woman next to her a reason to start a conversation.

However, it seemed that Triss didn't need one, for she opened her mouth before she had even tasted anything off her plate, "Last time I ate this robust was when I was helping a Witcher. We had set up camp somewhere in a valley for the night and when we couldn't-"

Yennefer let out a big sigh and didn't hide how annoyed she was by the intrusion of her peace. Triss stopped, smiled bashfully and somewhat regretfully, and turned to focus on the plate on her lap. They ate in silence without another word being exchanged. Yennefer tried her best to gracefully pry some meat off the bone without making it too messy and quickly found out it would be better to just leave the questionable mixture of beans and potatoes alone.

When they were both as good as finished, Triss nibbled on her lower lip. Was she going to put herself between both her friends? One thing was certain, she would forever regret it if she could have been the one to mend things between you. It was childish and unnecessary to be on such terms before a big battle, but perhaps the same stress and pressure everyone was feeling, had been too much for you both and had caused you to fight and handle things irrationally.

What it had been about, she wasn't too sure, though she could take a wild guess, she could only sense that it involved a lot of emotion and held heavy importance to both of you, going by the atmosphere she had walked in on.

"Y/N, is she-"

"I don't want to talk about her." Yennefer shut her down immediately.

Triss opened her mouth in protest and furrowed her eyebrows. Sure, everyone knew of Yennefer's temper, but she had never lashed out on her like this over something she wasn't even involved in. Though, perhaps that was exactly why she had lashed out.

"Listen, I don't want to come between you two but I really-"

"Then don't." Yennefer's head shot sideways and her lilac eyes sent daggers at Triss, who in return pursed her lips.

"Why would you part ways the way you did? We could be dead tomorrow, Gods, even before the sun rises again!" Triss' empathetic doe-eyes softened and begged Yennefer to listen to her. Yennefer didn't have it in her to crush her friend's kind spirit once more and kept her thoughts to herself, and instead pushed herself up. "Go find Y/N, and this time, listen to what she has to say instead of shutting her out again. Be reasonable for once, Yen. You'll be left all alone if you continue to treat people the way you do. Y/N won't stick around forever."

Yennefer turned around with a sneer on her lip. Triss had hit her right where it hurt the most. Alone... wasn't she already? Hadn't you already distanced yourself from her?

"Having someone around has only ever resulted in disappointment."

"Yennefer!" Triss spluttered but watched the raven-haired mage walk off nonetheless.

Yennefer's quick steps were adamant to get her out of there immediately, but a voice made her stop in her tracks.

"The ale won't disappoint you, that much I can promise." Tissaia held a tankard outreached in front of her to take, an invitation to sit with her as a soft smile tried to coax her to accept the offer.

Not wanting her rectoress to sense the weakness that had occurred mere seconds before, Yennefer straightened her posture and accepted the drink. She sighed defeatedly, "Ah, why not? We should enjoy it while we can. It's the first thing Nilfgaard will destroy."

"Must you always be so fatalistic?"

"You'll find that it's my most admired quality," Yennefer all but huffed, earning a snort and a shake of the head from the woman next to her. The two turned to each other with amusement glinting evidently in their eyes.

The moment faded and Tissaia cleared her throat, "We both know there's more to you than meets the eye. You just have a habit of not letting anyone see what truly lies beneath."

It was true, Yennefer hadn't only been bottling her chaos for years, but had managed to master bottling her feelings, emotions and all of her inner turmoil as well.

Yennefer ignored her and took a sip of the ale. She felt the warmth of the alcohol slide down her throat, wrapping around her like a welcoming but prickly woollen blanket in the cold of the night. It burned, but more satisfying than the lump she had tried to swallow down a while back.

"What's the matter?" Tissaia turned to her, worry and intrigue etched into her features. Not shooting back a witty reply was foreign for Yennefer. Tissaia tried to get through Yennefer's blockade, to hear her thoughts, to see her worries, but the mage had sealed them off expertly.

"Besides possibly coming to our ends soon?" Yennefer turned to the woman beside her with an amused grin on her face, but Tissaia could see the turmoil swarming through her violet pools.

"Are you ready then? To die?"

The question didn't catch Yennefer off guard at all, for she knew her former rectoress always liked a direct approach. She had been on the receiving end of that bluntness for years, after all. And although it had crushed her at first, for all she wanted as an unwanted and unloved child was just some love and recognition, she was happy it had made her tough enough to overcome each obstacle she'd had to face so far.

Without hesitation, Yennefer spoke, "Yes. I've lived two or three lifetimes already."

Tissaia gave her a knowing look, "But you haven't been satisfied in any of them."

Yennefer felt her throat tighten and her chest ache as she thought of all that had happened in those lifetimes. Of the dreadful years at Court, of the ache of not having the person she longed for most around. She took another sip of the ale and felt some of the weight lift off her shoulders, "I've tried. But I've got no legacy to leave behind. No family, no...Nothing worth staying alive for." Yennefer looked off into the distance and watched the shadows of the people around the fire dance against the walls of the Keep. She hated herself for needing to cast the memory of you aside like that, as if you had no value to her. She knew better though, and she knew she couldn't dwell on the empty feeling she felt, not tonight. "It's time to accept that life has no more to give."

Tissaia looked down and softly shook her head, swirling the ale in her tankard absentmindedly as her thoughts wandered off. It pained her to hear one of her dearest students seem so unhappy. In fact, it pained her to see both of you this way. Tissaia wasn't stupid. She knew about everything.

She grabbed Yennefer's underarm softly, but tugged at the fabric of her dress to give her words more impact, "You have so much left to give... and there is so much you have yet to receive. If you can just open your eyes."

With those words, she left Yennefer to ponder as she disappeared into the crowd of drunk people trying to drink their worries away and celebrate what could be their last night.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

"What are you sulking about?"

You heard her before you noticed her, but she appeared not long after out of the shadows, a tankard of ale in her hands and the smell of the liquid on her breath as well.

Tissaia's voice held a hint of amusement as she softly bumped your arm and brought the cup of ale to her lips. You were leaning against the cold brick wall, looking out over the people drinking and having fun on what could be one of their last nights- one of your last nights.

You grunted and shrugged, "Life."

Tissaia let out a dry chuckle, for she could not imagine a better fit than two of her favourite students. You usually weren't as pessimistic as Yennefer was, but it humoured her how you perfectly complimented the other mage and her mood this night.

"What about it?" She leaned against the wall beside you and followed your line of sight.

"How it's not as I had imagined it to be."

Tissaia's amusement disappeared when she noticed you weren't being sarcastic or overly dramatic; you were speaking from the heart, from a heart that was shattered. Seeing you were going to vent, she kept her mouth shut.

"-I've had no freedom, no perfect family...not even one grande lover."

"But you had a chance at life. Multiple, to be exact. That's more than the young girl I found between the ashes that morning could have ever imagined."

Silence washed over you and your old mentor. Tissaia made a move to bring the cup back to her lips when she realised you probably needed to loosen up and let go of your turmoil more than she did.

You kindly pushed her hand away, "I shouldn’t. I tend to ruin things when I drink."

"You don't want to drink away your nerves and worries on what could well be our last night? You must really be ready to die then." Tissaia seemed amused by it, but deep down she was anything but. This wasn't you. The usual light in your eyes was nowhere to be found. Instead, your eyes looked around the encampment as if you had already lost. And you had lost, in your eyes at least. You had lost Yennefer.

"I just realise I ran out of time and that it has caught up to me, and I might never be able to right my wrongs. I have a hard time coming to terms with the knowledge that that is how I'll die."

Tissaia inspected your features, picked apart all your little tells that she had picked up on over the years at Aretuza, and therefore knew you weren't done speaking,

"Then again- I've lived many lives, for which I should be grateful... but if they're all going to be the same... and if the alternative is another few decades serving daft and criminal lords at court, living an awfully boring life and not receiving the happiness I so long for, then... if I die... it is what it is. Though I hope it will be worth it, I’d hate to die in vain and have Nilfgaard march over my corpse."

"Being a mage is an awfully lonely life. It is a life of solitude." Tissaia spoke softly, "But that's the price we all paid when we made the promise and decided to serve the Continent."

"I don't think I had any other choice." You noted, thinking of the theoretical dungeon you had been locked away in ever since you had first stepped foot in Aretuza. In more ways than one, your chaos and aptitude for magic had both been your greatest gift and your worst nightmare.

Tissaia fell quiet beside you and she pondered over her words for a while, "Did I make you feel like you hadn't?"

A sigh escaped you, for Tissaia had promised you a safe sanctuary after what had happened in your village. You knew very well that if your ripple in chaos hadn't happened on that damned night, you would have been among the dead by sunrise. Shaking, burned, feverish and full of terror, you felt like the only thing you could do was accept the hand the well-dressed and poised woman in front of you had offered. The rest had been history.

"Within one night, I had lost it all and gained so much back in return."

"But at what cost?" Tissaia finished for you.

You could only repeat her words as you looked out to the group of people, which included some of the friends you had made at Aretuza.

"At what cost."

She felt your restless mind as you could sense hers, and it didn't take long before the prospect of what was to happen caused you to let more bittersweet words flow out of your mouth.

"If I didn't take my chances during all these years, then nothing will change if I live to see another day. It just hurts that I only now start to realise and regret it all..." Your voice died down and Tissaia pushed herself off the wall to take a better look at you.

When you looked back into her eyes, you realised you had never seen them with this much empathy. Although still, you could also see the disappointment in them. Knowing the woman you had looked up to most in your life felt that way towards you at this moment right now, made your stomach fall as it had done so over and over whenever she was giving you a hard time at Aretuza. The sudden feeling that washed over you made you shy away into that corner she had pushed you towards for years, and so you decided to elaborate, hoping she would see reason,

"Everyone I've once cared for died years ago. They died with the old me that night in the village. I'm not leaving anyone behind. So even if I do regret not taking certain chances, there's nothing I can do about it now."

Tissaia tilted her head, seeing right through the lie you were trying to convince yourself of, "Everyone?"

You couldn't help yourself when your eyes wandered over the people sprawled about the ruins, but they never found the woman you were looking for. Without asking, you took the cup out of Tissaia's hand and took a big gulp.

"Everyone."

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Yennefer watched you with all the focus she could muster, her eyes flicking between your concentrated expression and the space in front of your hands, but no matter how hard you tried, no portal appeared.

"Sabrina- show her how it's done, or else we'll be here all week." Tissaia dismissed you without giving you so much as another look and was already making her way to the other side of the room.

"No! She almost got it!" Yennefer protested, having seen a sliver of a glowing and reflecting thin sheet floating between your hands, and hating how Tissaia's dismissal had made you frown in embarrassment and lose all momentum.

"Do you want to be next, piglet? You couldn't even lift a pebble with your mind if your life depended on it."

The girls fell quiet, their eyes nervously flitting across each other's faces. But not you, who took Tissaia's words to Yennefer to heart as well, "I don't think that was very-"

Tissaia finally turned around and stared you down for speaking out of turn, "You only speak when spoken to, pup. Or are you so desperate for me to forbid you from following classes all of next week? A shame. You could do with extra classes or you'd be one of Aretuza's greatest disappointments. Both of you." She said with a tone of finality.

You cowered slightly and dropped your head in shame, making Yennefer's face harden and her fists ball in rage.

"Good. You're more tolerable when you're quiet." Tissaia walked towards Sabrina and continued the lesson.

But from right beside you, Yennefer's little finger slowly hooked around your own, a silent reassurance that you two would always have each other's back. Even if you would forever be known as Aretuza's greatest failure.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The multiple firepits that were lit all around the courtyard of the Keep flickered, warming everyone who rested around, fast asleep. A few people stood guard on the castle walls. Their shadows danced around the ruins each time they switched places. Tissaia had ordered every mage to try and get some rest, to preserve their energy, to fuel their chaos. It made her feel like a hypocrite, seeing as she was wide awake. She looked across the grounds, her eyes falling on the many sleeping people and among them, her group of mages. Who was to say how many of the women she had raised throughout all her lifetimes would survive this battle? She would be the woman who had built them and who would be the reason for their destruction as well. It pained her, but to serve the Continent and keep its inhabitants safe, this was what needed to be done. Although they were all there, Yennefer was nowhere in sight. But she knew you were around by the thoughts keeping you up. Your bottle must have been empty, seeing as you paid little mind to shield her away from your thoughts. She could hear your insecurities, your worries, felt the new pain of your heartache and the old of all the lives before, heard Yennefer's name echo, saw the woman's face and smelt the familiar scent of lilac and gooseberries. Your mind was a mess. No wonder it kept you up.

Her eyes tried to search the people, to see if she could figure out where you were exactly. The light of the fires blinded her view, but she finally saw your figure when a harsh wind blew the fire to just a small flame for a split second. She watched as you sat cross-legged and your eyes stared deadly into the fire. A warm blanket was wrapped around your shoulders as a dazed look coated your face. You seemed as calm as ever, others would even pass it off as you just being tired, but Tissaia'd had you under her wing for years. She knew better.

Movement caught your eye and you watched your old rectoress approach, careful not to wake anybody. She sat down on the blanket next to you, her eyes following the flickering of the flames. She didn't say anything, and neither did you, not for a while at least.

Your voice was hoarse as you opened your mouth to talk,

"I lied."

The sound got faded away by the wind and the ambience of the night, but Tissaia had heard you nonetheless.

"I know," She spoke in return.

The fire crackled and along with some people snoring and the wind softly travelling through the ruins, it was suddenly eerily quiet. Nilfgaard was out there, somewhere, preparing. People would lose their freedom, their homes, their loved ones, their lives and your biggest selfish concern was if you had already lost Yennefer before the big battle could even begin.

"You haven't."

Tissaia's spoke up, letting you know she had read your thoughts. It should have made your cheeks rise in heat that you had failed to close off your thoughts, worried about what else she might have seen or heard, but instead, you accepted the reassurance.

"Yennefer is as stubborn as she is powerful, but what she couldn't do then, she has mastered now; bottling her power, her chaos... bottling her feelings." She emphasised.

You turned to look at her, but she kept her gaze focused on the fire.

"As have you." She then looked up to watch your reaction, "You have bottled your feelings for decades, and now that same bottle has exploded right into your face." Her words were stern, as were her hard eyes, but you knew her words came from a place of love, for she would otherwise never have bothered to talk to you to ease your mind.

Her answer came before you could even ask her,

"It is not too late. But first, we defend Sodden, you have spent multiple lifetimes wondering about the what-ifs, prolonging that unknown territory for a few days longer shouldn’t hurt." She softly grabbed your chin, her expression softening, "I need you focused and ready, so you can make me proud again, my dearest girl."

The tired smile on your face made her retract her hand, knowing you had understood her request of putting the battle of Sodden before your own gains first. You were a mage, after all, and you had to serve the Continent before serving yourself. It gave you a new sense of hope that after all of this, you would finally grant yourself the freedom you wanted. Even if that meant putting your heart on the line.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

It had been a nice sentiment, to want to wait for the inevitable until after Nilfgaard was dealt with, but Triss' words had released something in Yennefer and had made her see reason. She was not going to die before she knew the truth.

You had barely slipped into a troublesome sleep until someone shook you awake. Confused and alerted, your eyes shot open, only to see Yennefer hover above you, nothing similar to the last time she had hovered above you. Her face was stern and you searched her eyes for any sign of the softness you always so loved to see in them, but no matter how long you looked, they were void of it.

"We need to talk."

As if she could read your thoughts, she huffed and stood back up, offering you a hand, "Forgive me for seeing reason and not wanting to die still hating you." She softly rolled her eyes, but you could hear she spoke her harsh words halfheartedly. Still, it hurt to hear her speak of hate when talking of you.

With her help, you stood up and quietly tiptoed behind her as she led you down the hill to a more secluded place, where you could talk without your voice barely reaching above a whisper to not wake anyone up.

Suddenly she stopped, and you had to be careful to not bump into her back. It seemed as if she could no longer stop her thoughts from raising. Whatever was on her mind, she needed to get it off right now. Before you could react or express your surprise, her words surprised you even more,

"You hate me." She stated more than asked as she turned around to look at you with that hard glare in her eyes. It scared you how quickly she had built her walls back up and shut you out.

"No, Yen, not at all! I could never." You grasped forward in an attempt to hold her hand, but she took a step back, distancing herself from you.

"Somehow, somewhere along the line, I have done something incredibly stupid to upset you. I don't know what's more pathetic; me not knowing what it is, or you not telling me."

This time, it was you who took a step back, but Yennefer didn't want to let you walk away from this again and closed the distance. Now it was she who reached out for you, and you let her as your fingers grazed together as they had done days earlier in Aretuza's council room.

With a trembling voice, she spoke, "Y/N please, don't make me beg you." She searched your eyes for the words your voice couldn't utter. She exhaled shakingly, granting you the last chance to speak up before she knew she would be done, "What do I mean to you?" She clenched her jaw shut as soon as the words had left her mouth, ready for impact. But no matter how heartbroken she would be, she needed to know the answer before she could get her peace.

Tissaia's words still rang through her mind;

"Even if you were a beauty, no one would love you."

"No matter how hard you'll try, there's no one who will ever love a piglet like you."

"Do you think anyone would care if you died?"

She heard them even now, years later, and they had fed her insecurity ever since they had left Tissaia's mouth. Her former rectoress had planted the seed of doubt in Yennefer's mind that she wasn't meant to be loved and cared for. Tissaia had shown that much herself during her time at Aretuza. Yennefer didn't want to admit it, didn't want those words to be given so much power, but she had let them take over, even going as far as restricting herself from ever fully opening up to the woman she adored most, for Tissaia's words must be true; no pup would ever love a piglet. She had rather lived in bliss and in her own crafted fairytale than face the harsh truth, but if she were to die soon, then she needed to know.

Yennefer searched your face as much as she could in the dark, but your mouth stayed agape and words didn't follow. Growing frustrated, she raised her voice,

"Do I mean nothing to you?!"

You wanted to scream, to shout all that you had bottled up ever since first meeting this wonderful mage standing in front of you, whose chest rumbled with thunder and whose heart was bigger than she knew herself, but it was as if you had clawed out your own vocal cords. Sure, you had known what Yennefer wanted to talk about, but you had never imagined her to surprise you with it the way she had. You should've known better though, seeing as Yennefer was an unpredictable bomb whenever she felt like was out of control.

"You mean- I... you-"

Yennefer moved her head at your stuttering in a way that would have otherwise been seen as comical, but you were on the brink of tears. This was it. Not even hours ago you had acted all melancholic and tough when speaking to Tissaia, yet now, it seemed as if you couldn't even muster up the courage to just spill the truth.

However, your torturous dilemma was cut short when a searing ball of fire soared through the air and lit your surroundings.

Its final destination? The ruins of Sodden.

#yennefer of vengerberg one shot #yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg x reader #yennefer of vengerberg imagine #yennefer imagine #the witcher imagines #the witcher imagine

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jaskierswolf · 2 years

Note

Since you asked for Yen prompts (and made me very happy)! Yentriss magic shop modern AU. Maybe they co-run it, maybe it's a meetcute, whatever you want. :D

I hope you like it! Background Geraskier (very background), Yen and Triss never met at Aretuza, but Yen's been around a long time and Triss is a newer mage.

After many lifetimes on the Continent, Yennefer was sure she’d seen, met and fucked every sort of interesting person, and probably half the none interesting sorts as well. There were no surprises left for her, and that was okay. She had her shop, her magic, more wealth than she knew what to do with, and a weird misfit found family with Geralt, Ciri and Jaskier. By all rights, she should be thrilled.

But ever since they’d managed to break the djinn’s wish, Yennefer had felt hollow. The fake romance that had rested in her soul for centuries, had faded to nothing before her eyes. Any deeper connection to her witcher had been severed, and they’d blinked at each, seeing clearly for the first time in a very long time. It had been her wish to break Geralt’s, but it had left a void. Having someone who cared about you more than anything else in the world was addictive, and she knew she was no longer that to Geralt, not when he had his daughter, their daughter, but really Ciri would only ever be connected to Geralt through Destiny. Not to mention, the way the witcher now looked at that infernal bard of his.

Yennefer had been left behind.

Not intentionally, nor maliciously, but they just hadn’t needed her anymore. She was still part of the family, but it wasn’t the same. Her own dreams had sabotaged her happiness.

The magic shop had become her life. She enjoyed running the business, her business, it gave her a sense of power that was endlessly moreish, and finally, Yennefer felt like she had control of her life again. No longer was she bound by Tissaia and the Lodge, nor by djinn wishes, or the petty squabbles of man. It was hers and hers alone, and she could help people. To every single person that walked through her door, she was important.

The bell rang over the front door, drawing Yennefer’s attention, and in walked possibly the most beautiful women that she’d ever seen. Wide soft brown eyes gazed around the shop, from beneath a mess of thick dark coppery curls that almost glowed red under the lights, and unlike most of Yennefer’s customers these days, the newcomer wore a gorgeous turquoise dress with a leather brown corset over the top.

It reminded Yennefer of her youth, a strange self of nostalgia for a fashion that had long since passed. And yet, on the woman, it didn’t look out of place or frumpy. Yes, she looked a little quirky, but most people who came into Yennefer’s shop did. There was a natural beauty in the woman that had Yennefer’s heart of ice beating once more, and she felt as if she could spend a lifetime counting the dusting of freckles on the warm tanned skin of her cheeks.

Yennefer couldn’t help but blush as the dark brown eyes flashed, meeting hers across the room, and the woman smiled brightly, lighting up the whole damn shop.

“How about you ask me for a drink first?” The woman said without moving her lips.

“Oh fuck!”

“Are you always this bold?”

Yennefer swallowed, fighting down any biting comment that she was desperate to make, a terrible defence mechanism that would only scare her beautiful customer away, and she flung up her mental defences to stop any more errant thoughts escaping.

“Yes,” she agreed with a smirk to hide her embarrassment. “Now, what can I do for you?”

The woman extended her hand, and Yennefer took it willingly, enjoying the slight tingle of chaos as their palms touched. “Triss Merigold, I’m new in town and I was thinking of setting up an alchemist store when I heard about you from the local musician.”

“Jaskier?” Yennefer asked with a barely concealed smile… bloody idiot of a bard.

“Yes, I think so, and I thought, well, I don’t really want to be your rival. It won’t end well for either of us, so… how about partners? I could show you what I can do?” Triss glanced down at her feet, her hands fiddling with the lacy cuffs of her sleeves.

Yennefer was ashamed to admit that she’d already made up her mind, drawn to Triss’s warmth and glowing beauty, and struck by the desire to know the new witch more, but for show, she pretended to think about it. It was easy to gently probe Triss’s mind, seeing whether she had any actual experience, but it was a pointless exercise.

Yes.

Her heart and soul screamed even as she refused to say the words.

Instead she cocked her head, her fingers lingering against Triss’s skin as their hands parted. “How about that drink first?”

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @wherethewordsare @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses @skai6 @karolincki @eya-trying-to-function

#the witcher #yentriss #trissefer #triss merigold #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer #yennefer x triss #wolfie's witcher writing #twn

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lilackissed · 2 years

Text

Yennefer is bad at apologizing.

This is like...self explanatory...but I’m going to explain anyway because there’s a reason to the madness. Yennefer grew up absolutely abused by the two people who were supposed to love her the most in the world. Her mother used to stand up for her, when her father beat her, but the moment her father left, her mother blamed Yennefer for the sad circumstances and took over where her father left off. So, the two people that were supposed to love her unconditionally, made her feel WORTHLESS.

Then, Yennefer ended up at Aretuza, where she was still bullied by the other girls. Things were so bad, that Yennefer tried to kill herself, but she didn’t die, and instead Tissaia paid her extra attention from then on. Now, why does all of this matter? Because Yennefer was never paid apologies. She was never taught to be able to say that you’re sorry. Instead her parents blamed everything on her even though it was not Yennefer’s fault, and didn’t apologize ever, for their behavior. The girls at Aretuza certainly didn’t apologize to her for their bullying, and do you think Tissaia apologized for how hard she was on them? Absolutely not.

So, Yennefer becomes a mage, and she becomes that which she is used to: a cold person who does not open up her heart to many. She becomes the same kind of person that does not apologize. However, Yennefer DOES feel remorse. She DOES feel compassion. She simply also tends to brush things under the rug when it comes down to it. Even when she is wrong, she admits her wrongdoing and then she moves on even when the other person does not. The books show this really well, actually, with how hard Yennefer is on Ciri with her training--the same way Tissaia taught her. The difference, is Yennefer also then bonds to Ciri like Ciri is her own child, and she begins to show through her ACTIONS, that she is sorry, and tries to make things up where it matters: actions instead of words.

All of this absolutely is why Yennefer is bad at apologizing, and honestly she doesn’t really do much to do better? She WILL admit her wrongdoings, and she WILL express her remorse, but you get it ONCE. She will not beg for forgiveness. She will not continuously bring it up, or grovel. Yennefer of Vengerberg will tell you she was wrong exactly one time, and then simply correct her behavior so the same thing does not happen twice. Literally unless you are Ciri, you might not even get a heartfelt apology the first time. Ciri is the exception to every single rule. She just is. Ciri matters more to Yennefer than herself, and she is the only one that gets to see and experience the softest parts of Yennefer. Even Geralt gets a little more sharp edge when it comes to apologies, but she’s also first to change for the people she cares about.

So she’s not without remorse or compassion, or any of that, she just will not do a grand gesture when it comes to an actual spoken apology.

#𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒾𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 [headcanon]#𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹𝑒𝒹 [main verse]#𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓃𝓉 [witcher 3 verse]#𝒸𝒽𝒶𝑜𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒹 [netflix verse]#it's literally every single verse okay??#tw: suicide mention

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 11- At Last

Summary: Finally reunited with Geralt, the two of you attempt to avoid Nilfgaard and find a tavern for the evening, although it appears destiny has other plans.

Warning: angst, fluff

Masterlist

-last and final chapter my Witcher friends, that is until next season, and yes I will be continuing reader and Geralt’s story. There’ll be more monster slaying and adventures to come!

Within minutes after reuniting with your silver haired lover, did the two of you immediately find a spot elsewhere from the main trail for well...you know. A place hidden away from any unwanted prying eyes so that you both could show one another just how much you've desperately missed each other, in more ways then one. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so euphoric, perhaps that's just what making sweet love to your Witcher does to you. Even when he's pounding you against a tree while whispering the most dirtiest of sweet nothings into your ear.

You hadn't touched him like this in weeks, nor seen him for that matter, but he felt wonderful and seemed to be enjoying his time with you just the same. Though all too soon would your bodies have to part from one another's close embrace. All to your utter disappointment did the two of you end your hasty love making session, seeing as the land is closely crawling with Nilfgaard soldiers and who knows what else.

You got what you could get, and anyways, that won't be the first nor last time you two fuck in the woods.

The grass feels soft against your clothed bottom as you lace up your boot, your gaze set to the individual across from you as your eyes unbashfuly admire Geralt while he lays in the grass shirtless. His beautiful golden irises staring up into the tree tops as the wind sways the leaves every which way.

You pull at the leather strings, tying a confident knot with skilled hands while a small breeze blows your hair back, you're admittedly feeling quite delightful if you're being honest. Though when your crimson eyes glance up at the snowy haired man again, he's turned his head to you.

Your eyes meet at once, sending a blissful smirk upon your lips, "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" You teased, narrowing your eyes in a playful manner.

Geralt's lips curl into a half smile as he lets out a small hum in reply. Setting your arms upon your propped up knees, you freely show him an eye roll. Earning a proper chuckle from the man, "Y/N I was simply cherishing your stunning appearance."

Shaking your head you smile, "Yes, of course you were. And I am simply looking at a shirtless man with the most utter respect and clean of thoughts in my mind." You casually shrug, "Nothing else going on in here, I promise."

Geralt raises a greyish brow, moving to prop himself up upon his elbow, "That sounds honest." He hums, "But you are no virtuous maiden my love, and by that telling look on your face only moments ago. I can only imagine what things you may have been thinking of then."

You let out a snort before deciding to crawl over to him, where he lets you push him back into the grass, "Indeed I am not." You whisper close, leaning on an elbow as your other hand caresses his cheek, "But I am undoubtedly in love with a Witcher of all creatures to walk this earth, so if we're using our heads, what does that truly say of me then?"

His golden eyes keep to yours as he brings a hand to rest over your arm, "I would say it means perhaps I am a fool to fall for one of my enemies' creations, my dear Y/N..." He pauses for a moment, taking this brief second to focus on you and only you as he holds you with the most care, "you are most cunning and beautiful."

Leaning into his small touch you grin blissfully, a feeling of ease and calmness setting over you as Geralt studies your face, "You are no fool my White Wolf. That I am sure of without a doubt in my mind, I can't seem to be able to even jest about it." You chuckle, "Though you tempt me at times." The smile that he gives you is the most precious thing your eyes could ever be blessed with, its warm and genuine, filled with the deepest and most purest of love for you. His lady of night, the one monster he could never slay, nor would he ever dare.

Though your heart fills with joy for him, a sudden sadness seeps into your soul, obstructing your happiness. Your eyes fall downcast as you move to lay yourself next to Geralt in the grass, he follows you closely, a frown displaying itself upon his handsome features at your sudden spurt of melancholy.

"What troubles you Y/N?" Wonders Geralt, shifting his body so that he can rest an arm over your chest, pulling you in close as he studies your face.

Resting a hand on Geralt's muscular arm, you frown once again, "I was brief about my short time in Aretuza and the Elven keep, I know I told you about all those bastard soldiers I killed and when I helped the mages the best I could.....it's just. I haven't told you everything." Your voice feels so small in the large forest, now since you think about it. You haven't had the time to completely process what happened at Sodden's Hill, with all those soldiers, the other mages, and especially Yennefer.

So much death.

His brow furrows in thought, unsure of what you're going to reveal next, all he knows is that he doesn't plan on letting you go for awhile longer. Your Witcher hums in reply, giving you a moment to find your words. Taking a deep heavy sigh you turn your head to look out at the clouds. "We tried to protect the North from Nilfgaard, those fuckers had their own spout of powerful mages to test against our own. For the whole day we all fought together...every man, woman, child, and mage. Fucking farmers and tired refugees, they weren't warriors, Geralt. None of them were."

You take another shaky breath as Geralt presses his head against your cheek, "I did what I could to save them. But I'm just one person, I couldn't save them all....though I must admit, those people fought braver then most royal soldiers I've ever seen. They have good heart in them....well, I guess did. Not many survivors I think, just the ones who had enough sense to get the fuck out of there.....and of course myself, Tissaia, Triss, and Yenn..." A small lump forms in your throat as you remember what happened, causing you to choke on your own words for a moment.

You bite your lip hard, your hand squeezing tightly onto Geralt's muscular forearm as you collect yourself enough to speak, though your voice is raspy and broken, "Yennefer, right. She fought valiantly like a true warrior, she was like a phoenix, like a raging mighty dragon of power and flame...Geralt you should have seen her." A tear falls down the side of your face as you smile into the cloud covered sun, your voice above a whisper, "I'd never seen anything like it....it was.....beautiful."

A light kiss is placed gently over your tear streak while his hand moves to find yours, "What I would have given to see you slay those dogs alongside Yennefer, Y/N. I'm sure she is proud to call you a friend."

"She's dead." Those two words leave your lips so quietly that Geralt almost doesn't catch them, but he does.

The heavy weight of this news takes him off guard, he did not expect you to just lay such tragic tidings over him like that, he may have been greatly annoyed by Yennefer but he did see that stubborn mage as a friend. Though his heart hurts for how broken and defeated you feel from the terrors you'd underwent only yesterday, the great loss you've experienced, all of your traumas crashing down atop your soul in this moment. He wants to comfort you the best he can.

He listens to the steady beating of your heart, understanding how sad yet angry you're feeling, "I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am."

A tired smile forms at the corners of your lips as you turn teary eyes over to your Witcher, your faces mere inches from one another, "She was my first real friend you know, and I think I was hers. I'm grateful to have spent the last of her hours on this earth by her side then.....glad she wasn't alone. I just wish..." Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus on Geralt's shimmering irises once again, "I just wish the world wouldn't take everyone I give a shit about, so don't plan on doing anything stupid, okay? I can't lose anyone else or so help me god or whoever is listening out there, I will slaughter the bastards who dare take you away from me."

"I do not doubt it my love, and don't worry Y/N. I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon." He speaks honestly before pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "You have my word."

——

Geralt holds tightly to Roach's leather reigns as he keeps a firm hand over your lower abdomen, a small content smile gracing over your features while you sit comfortably in front of him on the large mare. Just as you always have.

Your hands rest over his as you keep a steady lookout over the trail ahead, silently overjoyed to be leaning against Geralt and all of his godly body holding you up. A blissfully drunken grin keeps to your face while your mind tumbles and reels with everything that he's just confided about from the last four weeks, like what you'd done earlier after a fine quick session of love making.

Apparently he's been busy.

Though for the second time today, another troubling thought randomly pops into your mind as things tend to do, and now you feel this time is as good as ever to actually address it. Squeezing his arm a bit you let out a half amused huff, showing that you're about to speak your mind on something idiotic Geralt has done, and he knows it.

Your Witcher figured you'd eventually spill your two cents, as you always seem to do.

"So." You begin, slow and filled with something Geralt's not quite sure of, he mentally cringes as you squeeze his arm again, "you just told him to fuck off and that you'd prefer to never see him ever again? Just like that? To our bard. Jaskier."

Geralt pauses for a moment as you wait for an answer, "Yes." Is all he whispers, low and filled with regret. He told you all about Jaskier and himself hours ago, hoping you wouldn't bring it back up, but of course you would. He's never that lucky, there's nothing you don't ever catch.

You raise a brow and shrug, "Can't say I blame you. That idiot has gotten our asses in a lot of shit over the years." He lets out a breath, glad you're not fuming at his heated rash actions on the mountainside after you dramatically parted ways. Suddenly you grip his arm tight, enough to actually feel uncomfortable, he sucks in a breath as you squeeze, "Although, I don't believe Jaskier completely deserved that." You seethe through clenched teeth before letting go of your iron grip. So you are angry after all, thinks Geralt, funny way of showing it.

"I know....I was just....I'm sorry Y/N." He replies, his voice much softer then he'd intended.

Your face falls as you feel the hurt in his words for what he's done, "I know Geralt." You sigh, "Enough with the sorry's and regrets okay....what's done is done and there's nothing we can do about it now. And anyways, as I like to say "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so don't feel shitty about it now." He gives you a hidden smile as you chuckle to yourself, "You can feel shitty about it later."

Geralt lets out an amused snort, "Always one for wise words Y/N. What would I do without your kind intellect?"

"Dunno." You casually shrug, "Be a far less intriguing creature I suppose."

He tenderly kisses the top of your head, "I'd be a fool to argue against that logic."

"You're still a fool either way." You jest, cackling at your friendly jab at him, earning a gentle squeeze on your hip that sends butterflies into your stomach.

Gods the things he does to you.

For a couple more hours would you both ride Roach down the trail, past countless trees and a few streams until the sun would begin her descent over the land. Through this time you've been admittedly back to your old habits of amusing your Witcher to pass the time, mixed with seeing how long it would take to annoy him before he threatened to kick you off the mare.

It had been quite the eventful stretch of time before you caught the nasty pheromones of war seeping throughout the forest from some place close by, but not seen by your skilled eyes just yet. You held your tongue, not wanting to worry Geralt over something as insignificant as rotting corpses in the woods. But as Roach gets closer and closer, you begin to feel more strange, your scarlet irises suddenly catch a ripped tent behind a few trees.

Nilfgaard. Smell of death, more destroyed tents. Those bastards did this.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, the scent of freshly decaying corpses overloading your senses just about making your eyes water, you can't smell anything else but the stench of death.

"What I would give to be in a flower meadow right now." You seethe, blinking away the reactive tears in your eyes, Geralt looks down to you, unsure of what you mean considering his sense of smell is not nearly as prominent as yours. "I think Nilfgaard found a camp just over there, gods it reaks."

His grey brows furrow in thought, though he's left his words in the back of his throat as Roach walks closer to the carnage. Suddenly the three of you are face to face with an older man and his horse cart as he desperately and stupidly does his best to move the dead in piles for whatever it is that he's intended for them.

What a strange man.

Geralt shifts from behind you, tilting his head at the bearded man, "Ill winds follow grave robbers." States your Witcher as he hugs you closer protectively, or perhaps to keep you from doing anything destructive. The greyed man looks to the two of you, quietly acknowledging your existence before turning around to continue his doings.

"If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, Butcher." He adds gruffly, squatting down to examine another slain body, "So best keep your beast with you." He adds, side eyeing you cautiously as he goes to move another of the deceased. Well, he knows Geralt's a Witcher and that you're not human. Maybe he's not that idiotic?

Geralt smirks, "If I was to let her satiate her appetite, you'd be amongst the corpses." The man falls silent, looking wearily between the two of you as your scarlet eyes trail over the nervous man.

He lets out a sigh, finally breaking under both your hard gazes, "I was goin' home to my family when I came upon these poor souls." He points towards the rotting bodies, "Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now they're a feast for the crows."

"They're not for crows." You implore, shifting your ruby irises across the shadowy wood line while you listen to the buzzing of feasting flies. You had previously forgotten about what else may lurk in the shadows ready to feed, until now.

"Wolves?" He wonders.

"No."

Shaking his head, he ignores your odd wary vigilance, turning to glance at the two of you, "With more hands I could move quicker."

Yeah, fuck that.

"The only thing you should do quickly is flee." Warns Geralt, alert to the same understanding of what creatures may be hiding close by. The strange man grunts as he drags a body over the leaves, ignorantly discounting both your warnings.

With a click of his tongue, Geralt pulls at the mares reigns, "Come on, Roach, back to Kaer Morhen." You shake your head at the man as Roach begins to take a couple steps forward.

"Don't leave!" Pleads the bearded man, while dragging another, "Look at these people. Innocent people, killed for what?" He exclaims, sucking in labored breaths as he stands to look out over the mass of dead refugees, "So Nilfgaard can have more land? We owe it to 'em to do better."

"I'm not better." Mutters Geralt as he directs Roach away.

Always so dramatic huh.

You don't make it even three feet before your sensitive ears prick at the sound of crawling under the dirt. You know exactly what's now hunting the man, without a second thought do you break from Geralt's muscular arms to jump off of Roach.

Your feet move inhumanly fast as you race for the panicked man who's now scrambling away on the forest floor as two hungry ghouls claw for a taste. Realizing all too late that your silver dagger is lost to the ages you quickly adapt to instead aim for electrocuting the ugly fuckers.

Your palms spread wide as white hot lightening crackles and sparks in the misty night air, piercing the grotesque bodies of the living undead.

They screech in pain, giving Geralt just enough time to cut them down before they're able to recover, the man stops whimpering in fear as he turns his head up to you and Geralt. Who's now crouched a couple feet from the wide eyed man while he cleans off his sword, his eyes now two pools of glistening obsidian.

Sparks crackle in your palms as you huff in annoyance, "Go home." Your voice strong and steady.

The man snaps his attention over to you, "I can help." He insists urgently, causing you to roll your crimson eyes.

"One bite will kill you." Implores Geralt sternly.

The man turns to him, "Or you two." Then back to you again, his eyes fretful as you notice how he's just about shaking. He's terrified.

You let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm immune." You conclude gruffly, pointing to both himself and Geralt, "But not you two, so if you want to see your wife again...go home." The man stays still, breathing heavily as he sits on the soft ground, his mind swirling.

Geralt slowly stands, glaring at the man, "Go...home!" He snaps in that gravely voice of his, the petrified man stares at him before looking to your equally as stoic face. The blood red glow of your irises and the low crackling of lighting in your palm shifting his mind to a new understanding of his current situation.

He lets out a shaky breath, "All right..." Huffs the bearded man before scrambling to his feet, his boots carrying him over to his cart as he throws something into the back.

You ignore him and watch as Geralt walks slowly forward, his black eyes cautiously surveying over the land as you take a step, "Let me be the first to say, but I don't happen to feel very fond of what else follows." You whisper softly, your voice laced with concern as you sniff the foggy damp air, smelling nothing but decaying flesh as it wafts into your nostrils.

Geralt holds his weapon tightly, opening his mouth to answer, but before he's able to say anything a piercing screech breaks out from the woods. His sword flashes in the moonlight as he cuts down another hungry ghoul. Without warning another one breaks out of the earth to his right, dead in a flash as he slashes it across the throat.

The dirt bulges upward as another crawls from underneath the ground, heading directly for Geralt, the beast doesn't stand a chance as your Witcher stabs the soil directly in front of him. Killing the damn ghoul in an instant. Suddenly a black screaming flash races past you and tackles him to the ground.

"Oh fuck!" Unknowingly leaves you lips as you race to his aid, five of them have him pinned to the ground already as you pull his silver sword from the earth that he had left behind in the scuffle. These starving bastards don't see you coming as you begin slashing and hacking violently away at the ghouls. Trying your damn best to get them off of Geralt, they scream in agony as you end their half-lives.

More race out from the shadows to surround the two of you, Geralt pushes and punches more off of him as you slice through their grotesque inhuman bodies. So caught up in your own world that you don't have time to make sure if Geralt is all right when another one jumps for your arm, only to be greeted with a hard cut to its sunken in stomach.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you turn your head left and right, readying for anything else. When nothing appears to move you lower his sword to your side, turning around to give Geralt a smirk and no less a cocky comment.

Your face instantly falls when he whispers a harsh "fuck" while he leans down to look at something on his left thigh. He shakes his snowy mane, standing to his full height as he takes a limped step towards you. His obsidian eyes finally finding yours as he takes another troubled step forward, he looks like a mess.

Your eyes glance down at the bite mark revealing itself from an opened spot in his dark pants, you suck in a sharp breath, your face dead serious as you watch him with wide glossy eyes. His face looks rough and sweaty as he limps closer, suddenly falling to his knees as he stares at you, almost pleadingly, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Geralt?" You whisper, your nerves standing on end at the sight of him, no way he's just been bitten, it can't be.

Your lip quivers as you drop the forgotten sword upon the earth, taking hasty steps as he looks tiredly into your frightened face. You quickly kneel down to meet his eye level as he lets out a shaky breath, your hands gently touch his dirt smudged face as he wills his hands to grasp your arms.

His grip is unnaturally weak as you look deeply into his eyes, your voice shaky, "You're fine. You're fine, it's just a small wound nothing worth worrying over....it's just..it's nothing...you're fi...." His head falls downward in your palms as his hands slip from their place on your arms, "No, no, no, no....Geralt, love look at me! Look at me!" He answers back with a low groan, you swallow the building lump in your throat as he struggles to lift his tired gaze to yours.

The weakest of smiles displays over his handsome features as he lets out a tired sigh, "You're beautiful....you know that?" His voice is soft and broken as you hold up his face, biting your lip to keep from crying. He smiles sluggishly, "Thank you for loving me...I....Y/N...I...love y..."

Suddenly his eyes shut as he goes limp against you, you catch him and quickly move to gently position his body so that his head can rest in your lap, "Geralt no!" You exclaim desperately through tears that are starting to blur your vision, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up you dick...you can't leave me here!" You shake his shoulder but to no avail, "Fuck! No, no, no....I just got you back." Tears race down your cheeks as a sob racks through your entire body, you suck in a breath, trying to contain your pain.

This isn't fucking fair!

The old man hustles to your side, now made aware of the dire circumstances, "Ohhh, dear...Uh....we can take him to my house, if you will.....Just, keep him awake." Proposes the man, you hold Geralt closer, your wet cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your crimson eyes glow blood red.

"If you help me save him I won't end your pathetic life because of your stupidity!" You snap, making him flinch backwards as you glare at him, a low growl emitting from deep within your throat. If Geralt dies you might tear this man to shreds.

He quickly regains his bearings, now understanding that his life is at stake if Geralt dies under his care. The man walks around you, reaching down to pull Geralt from out of your lap. Once you're free he looks to you, "Miss he's quite heavy, this one. Could you lift his legs and help me carry him to...."

He's left with nothing but a genuinely bewildered look as you pick your sleeping Witcher up, holding him in both your arms while ignoring the mans shocked expression as you walk over to the large wooden cart. Setting Geralt in the back on a couple soft bags of goods.

Jumping in next to him, you kneel down by his side while the man quickly ties Roach to the back. It's going to be a long night. Until dawn broke out over the horizon, the great sun coating the land in daylight would you lay by his side as he slept through the multitude of hours.

Finally coming to in the late morning, looking more pale then usual and clearly disoriented, his golden irises trying so hard to focus on your blurry face. The man, who revealed himself to be Yurga, kept his horses at a fast trot while you continued to hold tightly onto your Witcher's arm, squeezing it every time he would begin to close his eyes. Just keep him awake.

"I don't know about you." Starts Yurga, "But I'm not liking the sound of those explosions in the distance....bloody Nilfgaard better keep themselves far away from here. We don't need trouble like that round these parts. Not after everything they've done."

Geralt stirs underneath your touch, snapping your attention back down to him, you watch as his eyelids open and close, his golden irises looking rather lost and hazy. He's so pale, too pale.

"Easy does it Butcher." Affirms Yurga as he turns his head to the side, "You got bit, best keep your sights trained on the pretty lady in front of you."

Geralt's brows furrow as he turns his own head to the side at the sound of the mans voice, confusion clear on his face since the poison from the ghouls has begun to mess with his mind. Seated closely on his right, his muscular arm on your left and his broad body on your right, his face is much more faded in color now. Too pale and sickly looking for your liking.

Reaching an arm out, you gently touch his face, turning his head back to you, "Geralt, keep those fine golden eyes on me, you gotta focus love....you're becoming delirious, but you're not dead. Just stay awake Geralt I'll be right here." He blinks hard, his face appearing dazed as he listens, suddenly trying to sit himself up.

You quickly react, leaning over him to grasp both his arms, stopping him from moving anymore, "Be still Geralt. You'll only make things worse if you try and move, your bite is spreading slowly but moving will only bring you more pain." His face grimaces in discomfort, you release your grip, sitting normally once again.

Oh Geralt, be strong for me.

Your face a mask of deep worry at his reaction, he may be a Witcher, but if his wounds are not treated properly he will die. Leaving you completely and utterly alone in this world whether you're ready for it or not. You rest a hand over his chest, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat, he stares up at the sky, his gaze lost in the clouds.

You can tell he's probably watching some hallucination playing out before him, his gaze seems so far away while you sit here on this stupid hay covered cart pulled by the slowest two horses you've ever seen. He stirs again, his pale face trying to find yours as he focuses in on your worried appearance.

You can tell he's back, especially when his left arm quickly takes yours that was previously resting over his chest. He squeezes your hand, "My bag. Y/N I need my bag." His voice his gravelly and urgent, you quickly turn to look around, the pull of the cart jostling you while your eyes hunt for the bag.

"Yurga stop the fucking horses for a moment!" You yell, letting go of Geralt's hand as you grab the leather bag. Yurga directs his horses to stop, turning abruptly around to see what's the matter.

"The bottle....Y/N.....you know which one." Rasps Geralt as your eyes quickly find the small glass bottle containing some dark liquid, a type of healing potion for sure.

Handing the potion to your Witcher he hastily takes it, ripping off the cork with his teeth before making a face and chugging most of it. He groans, pouring the rest over his infected wound, more groans of pain sounding as you listen to the sizzle of flesh take to the healing mixture.

Gently patting his arm you hand him a small smile of reassurance, "You definitely need a healer, I'm afraid not even my blood can heal these wounds. Those fucking ghouls." You growl as Yurga urges his horses to begin trotting down the trail again.

His body rests against the piles of clothes and hay while his hand reaches out for yours, "I need to go to the Blue Mountains....Y/N...tell him I need to...." Mutters Geralt with tired eyes.

You squeeze his hand, "What? No, we don't have....you don't have enough time, Geralt you'll die."

"He'll heal me....I just need to go...."

"No!" You cry, there is absolutely no way you'd both make it to the Blue Mountains before his heart stops beating, "Stay awake you fucker, we'll heal you soon enough, just stay awake....we're almost to Yurga's farm. You'll get proper treatment there....just stay awake."

Until the sun would set and the darkness of night crept over the land would you constantly play as an ever continuous jostling annoyance to Geralt, doing all that you must to keep him awake and alive. Soon enough would Yurga have to stop and let his old horses rest for awhile. In the meantime, you'd help Geralt to lean against a tree as you went off in search of healing plants that could help to temporarily stop the spread.

With not much to give from your herb hunting, you walked forth from out of the bushes and into the grassy tree covered opening where you're greeted with the sight of a dark-red haired mage tending to your Witcher's infected bite wound. You immediately freeze, though she's too focused to even realize that you're watching her work. For a couple minutes would you observe her talents before blinking once and suddenly she's gone. Just like that, gone.

Well that was fucking bizarre.

Suddenly Geralt bolts upright, your brows furrow as he looks all around him, his wide eyes shifting right and left until they finally find your familiar form walking closer. He lets out an audible sigh of relief, before his grey brows furrow once again in thought.

"Where'd she go? The woman?" He wonders, confusion clear on his face as he watches you crouch down to meet his eye level.

You raise a brow, "Can't say I'd know, but I wish I'd have time to thank her for doing whatever magical mage shit she did to your infected bite mark." You reply with a chuckle, "Now you've gotten yourself a new scar added to the collection. Though still a very handsome work of art in my humble opinion."

His face softens at your relaxed tone, suddenly realizing that there's no need to worry anymore, "Thank you Y/N."

You laugh, "What for? I didn't do that much, I didn't even know how to properly heal you. And I definitely wasn't planning on turning you into a vampire just to have you around longer."

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you study his face, "For keeping me awake this long, no matter how much I wanted to shove you off the wagon."

"I knew you wanted to do it, I could see it in your face. That is, when you weren't staring off into nothing like a lost boy who had too many special herbs." You jest, earning a pleasing chuckle from your sweaty Witcher. You smile, "Now. Come on my love, let's go." You reach a hand out for him to take, without a second thought he accepts, letting you pull him to his feet.

He shakes his head, steadying himself as he holds your arms, "Geralt you're acting like you've just downed half a dozen mugs of ale, lets rest on the cart yeah? Yurga will take us to his farm where we can get some proper food and drink, and if we're lucky....you some new pants."

His smile is soft as he looks down at you, Geralt touches your chin affectionately, "That sounds rather lovely."

Before he can do anything else you grasp the hand that's touching your chin, "I know exactly where your mind is going next and all I have to say is you're getting a bit more cleaned up before those pretty lips of yours are allowed to kiss me." He closes his eyes, resting his head against yours as he releases his hand from your chin. Now pulling you closer with his large strong hands.

"I could have died." He mutters, his gravely voice laced with a friendly playfulness.

"But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know." You finally sigh, "You're still sweaty and smell like a dog who rolled in cow shit."

He lightly chuckles, "That's rude." Before pressing a feather light kiss onto your forehead where he then pulls away after a moment, "Guess we should help the old man pack the rest of his bags away."

Gripping his torso tighter you lean in close, "I'm enjoying myself too much." You admit, "Even though you smell rather atrocious at the moment."

"Oh please Y/N." Muses Geralt, his face inches from yours, "You still called be pretty when I was covered head to toe in Selkiemore guts, if I do recall."

"Did I? Must have slipped." You mutter lowly, brushing your lips past his.

"Y/N." Warns Geralt, his hot breath fanning over your smirking face as your ruby irises flicker from his plush lips to his golden eyes.

"On second thought. Perhaps you do look rather lovely at the moment, I think I'll just have to..." He's left guessing what you would have said next as your lips press firmly against his, both your arms pulling one another even closer now. Despite all he's just endured, Geralt tastes quite nice, his muscular body feeling even better holding you so close.

His lips move with yours in some pleasurable heated dance, soon enough does his calloused hands reach up to place themselves on either side of your face, you smile into the kiss at his urgency to hold you close. A couple more lingering blissful moments are shared flush against one another before your Witcher inevitably pulls away, first pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips once again before finally pulling away to look into your glistening eyes.

His hands still gently holding your cheeks, while your own ones grip around his forearms, "I hope there's more of that for when we find a tavern later." You muse, biting your lip as Geralt's eyes stare deeply into yours.

"Y/N. I'll let you take me any way you want." Mutters Geralt in that low and gravelly voice of his, "Just me and you."

"I think I'd like that very much." His lips find yours once again as your fingers trail down his back, wishing so hard that you were both laying on a soft warm bed in some hidden tavern in the mountains.

While you're both unbashfully exploring each others bodies like it was the first time, a sudden cough is heard from behind you causing the two of you to abruptly pull apart and look in that direction, "Uh...don't mean to intrude, but uh.....could we get moving if ya both don't mind?" Asks Yurga politely, trying not to find either of your amused gazes as he looks at a stick on the ground.

Right, you'd probably want to get out of the woods first.

The merchant Yurga had been true to his word, he had finally at long last made it to his home placed in a great clearing within the woods. A comfortable farmhouse on an open spot of land away from the fighting and battles nearby. His cart came to an abrupt halt as his wife quickly opened up the door and raced out to meet him, excitement flowing through her veins as a huge smile graced her face.

"We're all okay. The war is close, but we're okay. I need to tell you something." Exclaims Yurga's blonde curly haired wife.

"Me too." Affirms the older man with a slight thrill lacing his words.

His wife smiles, "I met a girl. An orphan, I found her in the woods nearby." Geralt halts all movement at the startling words, you doing the same as both of your furrowed gazes find one another.

No way this is who you think she's actually talking about. Hundreds of girls have been orphaned by the war.

"I met a Witcher." Speaks Yurga with a nod, "And a dhampir, if you'll believe it." Without warning Geralt jumps down from the cart and begins walking towards the woods much to your confusion, "They saved my life. Now fetch 'em some ale before they go to Kaer Mor-somthing." Urges Yurga, while you jump down from the cart, making hasty steps in Geralt's direction as Yurga and his wife finally look over to watch as the two of you make for the woods, "Hey, Butcher. Butcher! Where you goin'?" Shouts Yurga as Geralt continues onward, almost caught in a trance as he ignores the rambling merchant.

"Y/N?" Shouts the older man, causing you to stop and turn to him, "Where you two goin'?"

Your brows furrow, not completely sure of yourself, "I don't know." You whisper, keeping your body still as you look out at the thick greenery where Geralt had just wandered into for some unknown reason. You can't explain why, but you feel as though this is a path that only he must take.

The girl in the woods will be with him always.

He walks through the forest, his feet taking him somewhere or rather to someone who's been hiding from him for a long time. He can't even fully explain it, the call he feels to find what he's seeking. He suddenly stops, thinking his thoughts must be false and this urge to find who lingers in the wood is simply horseshit as per usual. A false sense of destiny. He turns around, walking a couple steps further back the way he came before an undeniable urge to look back consumes him.

The girl in the woods will be with you always.

And there she is, Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a shining beacon of hope in the dull wet gloom of the towering forest.

Destiny has prevailed.

Your boots shift from right to left as you stand idly in the morning air, your thoughts swimming around in your head of what could be taking Geralt so damn long, even if it's only realistically been about three minutes. Your new friends from behind you have instead left you to yourself and decided to tend to their horses, much to your relief.

Hugging yourself closer, you shiver, though you're not cold. A kind of magic of sorts seems to catch you in the misty air, a feeling you haven't felt since that night at Pavetta's banquet pulls around you like leaves on the wind.

How odd it feels, yet this seems right.

Two heartbeats reach your heightened ears, one so slow. But the other, beats normally like that of a child's.

You take a step back, steadying yourself as you wait for who you're expecting to inevitably appear. Shoes move across earth and leaves, signaling their close arrival. Your nerves die as two shadows emerge from the bushes and into the sunlight, the two of them are talking, unaware of your presence in the yard.

The child suddenly looks, her enchanted blue green irises falling onto you as she quickly comes to a halt, her eyes full of wonder and nervous apprehension. Geralt's brows furrow as he stops as well, his face turning to find the source of the girls fear.

His golden eyes spot you in an instant, he finds you staring curiously at the small blonde girl, the tiniest of smiles gracing your lips as you fiddle with your hands. You can't help but feel ridiculous for how you've been feeling about meeting this Child Surprise after so long, she is just a girl, a survivor of the unspeakable. Though you may not be the best with children in general, you feel no ill will against this one, all those previous feelings of loathing and judgement are gone to the wind.

Geralt's eyes are kind as he gently rests a comforting hand over her thin shoulder, she looks to him now then back to you as he speaks, "This is Y/N of Alkatraz, the dhampir princess of the High Northern Kingdom. My uh, lover?" He says cautiously, a bit unsure of what to truly call you before he thankfully finds his words, "Well...uh, my immortal companion, and someone who I love very deeply."

Oh, Geralt you adorable idiot.

Ciri's brows furrow in thought for a moment as she finds her courage, "My grandmother told me of that kingdom, she said it is ruled by vampires. Are you one?" She wonders, her voice a small nervous whisper.

The corners of your eyes crinkle in amusement as you smile, shaking your head, "No my dear princess, I am of that blood and character, but a dhampir is what I am as Geralt said. It's someone who is half vampire and half human." You assure the small girl, "No need to fear me, I promise you princess that I would never harm you in any way, you have my word."

A small grin tugs at the corners of her lips before her eyes fall downcast, "That's very kind, most people I've met so far out here have tried to kill me." She hands you the flash of a smile, "Glad to know not everyone is like them." She reveals freely to you with her small voice, so this is truly the Child Surprise.

The princess of Cintra.

"With us, you will not have to fear the damned talons of Nilfgaard Princess Cirilla...I will protect you with my life now."

Her brows furrow in thought at your truthful words, "You know of me? But how?"

You smile kindly, your scarlet irises flashing over to Geralt for a brief moment, "I have traveled with this handsome Witcher for almost fifty years, I know everything he knows. Even who you are." You take a couple steps forward, kneeling down to face her sad eyes, "And I am truly sorry for your loss, no child deserves the pain and fear you have endured since Cintra's fall. No less the horrors you have witnessed since your escape, these lands are undoubtedly deadly."

"Thank you, Y/N." She looks from you to Geralt, "I'm glad to have found you both then." You smile, standing up fully to lace your arm with Geralt's.

"Now, I think these kind people here may have breakfast waiting for us and some ale if I'm lucky, so my small friend Ciri, would you join us for a decently peaceful morning?" Ciri gifts your ears with a small giggle as Geralt hums in amusement. Proud that you're taking so well to the newest addition to your group of two.

You turn around just as the curly haired woman waves, "Would you all mind joining us for breakfast?" She calls out as a satisfied grin breaks out upon your face, "Of course we would be delighted!" You shout back, probably with too much excitement but you're trying to look as non threatening as possible. Also you are admittedly very hungry.

The three of you begin walking toward the farmhouse, Ciri follows the woman and her husband inside as Geralt stops near the entrance, you turn a raised brow to him, "What is it now? You planning on finding another magical orphan in the woods again?"

He looks down at the muddy ground before finding your lingering gaze once again, "No, just trying to figure out what to do next." Grumbles your Witcher in that lovable gravely voice of his.

You gently squeeze his hand as a smirk plays at your lips, "How bout we think of breakfast first? Then we can set our sights on paying our friends at Kaer Morhen a little visit. Bet they'd love that." You add sarcastically, wiggling your brows.

Your Witcher finally gives you a small smile, "Oh, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again." He jests.

Lightly smacking his arm you take a step into the doorway, turning back to look at him, "What? Am I not nice and lovable? Can't believe you'd even say that."

"Only when you want to be." Mutters Geralt before gently kissing the side of your head while walking past you, "Now lets get some ale."

Tagged: @seninjakitey @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #princess cirilla #roach the horse

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