[ the lingering effects of jaskier's magic settle over her like the strike of lightning from a storm, a sort of electricity left on her skin. she'd watched the bruises on her arms heal, had felt the scabs clear over. jaskier. she was going to kill him, it was a simple fact she'd hard whispered in the back of his head. he is dead, how dare he-.
perhaps there is a part of her that is glad for it. that whatever jaskier had interrupted, whatever he had done, was overshadowing the strangest feeling of loss. of pain, in watching ciri disappear. she had, truly, known the girl for only a few days - and yet in telling her what she was going to do, in watching the response signal across her face. it hurt, to see the pain written across her eyes. yennefer knows that she needs to correct this, that she needs to do better, to pull herself back to getting things done, to getting out of here - but for the briefest moment, she'd allowed herself the searing pain of loss that had happened when ciri had disappeared through that portal. which brought her to why there is a minuscule part of her that could possible, secretly, be glad for jaskier. for disrupting that. for reminding her that just how much she dislikes that bard and in that dislike is herself. yennefer of vengerberg. who has made her own decision, here, and who knows why and knows, logically, the reasoning.
who, when geralt closes the distance to her and reaches out to brush his thumb across her jaw, she can feel the pull once more. geralt reaches for her like she isn't still angry with him because of all of this, because of ciri, and yennefer blames the adrenaline of the rush to the portal, the speed as which everything is happening, that she lets herself tilt up into his hand. that she looks at him with less anger and more complex understanding. because she still feels it, even now, how close he is and how in this moment she is - again - losing him. losing him to her decision, to what she believes is best.
come with us he says, and there is still a part of her that wants to. that doesn't want to lose ciri, that doesn't want to lose him again. but she knows better. she does. and even with his thumb under her now-healed jaw, she reaches up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. ]
I will not go to a place that looks to destroy magic, rather than understand it.
[ especially not now, not when she feels her chaos has returned to her, the blockage has been removed. she looks alight in a way she hasn't felt in days, weeks, and she will not go somewhere where that is something to hide. she trusts herself, because that is the most of which she has been able to do her whole life, and so she will trust herself here, too. even in this moment, she knows her next steps. where she is going to go, what she will say. but to do that, they need to be gone, and she recognizes how much she hesitates, even now.
she does step towards him, in this. puts their bodies just a bit closer, for all the time they might have left. it's not fair, that the moments that come to mind are not of the anger she felt towards him on the mountainside, but instead the feeling he'd somehow left behind. it has been so long, longer than she cares to admit, but all she can recall is the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months in which a part of her had, actually, missed him. how she knows, even in this castle - whether it be a cell or a room - she will continue to do so.
violet, bright eyes look up at him - a shift from the girl he seen when she first arrived. she feels full, rather than frustrated. like her lost limb has finally been returned. a city in which they seek to destroy the largest source of magic this plane has is not a place she wishes to be. not now, probably not ever.
no subject
perhaps there is a part of her that is glad for it. that whatever jaskier had interrupted, whatever he had done, was overshadowing the strangest feeling of loss. of pain, in watching ciri disappear. she had, truly, known the girl for only a few days - and yet in telling her what she was going to do, in watching the response signal across her face. it hurt, to see the pain written across her eyes. yennefer knows that she needs to correct this, that she needs to do better, to pull herself back to getting things done, to getting out of here - but for the briefest moment, she'd allowed herself the searing pain of loss that had happened when ciri had disappeared through that portal. which brought her to why there is a minuscule part of her that could possible, secretly, be glad for jaskier. for disrupting that. for reminding her that just how much she dislikes that bard and in that dislike is herself. yennefer of vengerberg. who has made her own decision, here, and who knows why and knows, logically, the reasoning.
who, when geralt closes the distance to her and reaches out to brush his thumb across her jaw, she can feel the pull once more. geralt reaches for her like she isn't still angry with him because of all of this, because of ciri, and yennefer blames the adrenaline of the rush to the portal, the speed as which everything is happening, that she lets herself tilt up into his hand. that she looks at him with less anger and more complex understanding. because she still feels it, even now, how close he is and how in this moment she is - again - losing him. losing him to her decision, to what she believes is best.
come with us he says, and there is still a part of her that wants to. that doesn't want to lose ciri, that doesn't want to lose him again. but she knows better. she does. and even with his thumb under her now-healed jaw, she reaches up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. ]
I will not go to a place that looks to destroy magic, rather than understand it.
[ especially not now, not when she feels her chaos has returned to her, the blockage has been removed. she looks alight in a way she hasn't felt in days, weeks, and she will not go somewhere where that is something to hide. she trusts herself, because that is the most of which she has been able to do her whole life, and so she will trust herself here, too. even in this moment, she knows her next steps. where she is going to go, what she will say. but to do that, they need to be gone, and she recognizes how much she hesitates, even now.
she does step towards him, in this. puts their bodies just a bit closer, for all the time they might have left. it's not fair, that the moments that come to mind are not of the anger she felt towards him on the mountainside, but instead the feeling he'd somehow left behind. it has been so long, longer than she cares to admit, but all she can recall is the seconds, minutes, hours, days,
weeks, monthsin which a part of her had, actually, missed him. how she knows, even in this castle - whether it be a cell or a room - she will continue to do so.violet, bright eyes look up at him - a shift from the girl he seen when she first arrived. she feels full, rather than frustrated. like her lost limb has finally been returned. a city in which they seek to destroy the largest source of magic this plane has is not a place she wishes to be. not now, probably not ever.
her grip squeezes around his wrist. ]
Take care of her.