[ she very nearly repeats the name back to him - julian alfred pankratz, a strong, impressive name, she thinks. it fits him, though she is not entirely sure why. something about it feels not quite there, like the name itself falls just a step short of what her memory would have provided, but it does fit him. does fit the hat, the feather, the flourish of his step back onto the cart.
there is a small part of her that nearly does just that - sir pankratz - not because she genuinely thinks that is his title, but because she thinks he may just hate it, and she feels some interior need to tease him. just to see how he’ll react - they’ve been friends for years, after all, a little teasing would be acceptable for the relationship they very obviously have, wouldn’t it?
but before she has the chance to, he continues, and any thought yennefer has comes stuttering to a stop. the wolf jumps up into the cart, looks comfortable and familiar and trusting and like he belongs, and if she hadn’t already been convinced enough to come along, that would have done it for her. as it stands, julian calls her my dear and great and powerful and Yennefer of Vengerberg and yennefer stops in the spot she’d been standing, feels almost as if she stops breathing, entirely, as her eyes widen up at him.
could that be her? for a moment, yennefer aches with how close that description feels. how much she yearns for it to be true. how much she would do just about anything to make it that way. he calls her great and he calls her powerful and gods, she wants it so badly it hurts. it knocks the wind from her, nearly pulling her to her knees. her features shift, dramatically, back to a yennefer he probably recognizes a bit more, before the mist takes back over.
yennefer blinks, and that feeling is gone, and that need, that ache, vanishes back to the calm, the quiet, the misshapen jawline and protruding brow. julian’s hand is outstretched to her and her smile is genuine, young, uncertain but naive, in many ways. the hand outstretched to her is something she does not take for granted - and no matter the subtle, quiet voice in her that isn’t so convinced, yennefer takes the calloused palm. let’s him pull her up into the seat next to him.
she of course notices the rings, the wealth, the confidence he exudes. she has no idea how it is she came to be friends with someone so impressive, and she gives him a selfconcious smile at the question. ] Ah! Yes. He said his name was Kylo Ren. Do you know him? [ she’s unsure how much she should say, what information she should give, but something about julian and this journey through the horizon and the fact he is the first person who knows her and has for years gives her a sudden feeling that maybe it is okay to be honest. her eyes turn out and then back to julian as her voice pitches a bit low, closer to a whisper, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. ]
no subject
there is a small part of her that nearly does just that - sir pankratz - not because she genuinely thinks that is his title, but because she thinks he may just hate it, and she feels some interior need to tease him. just to see how he’ll react - they’ve been friends for years, after all, a little teasing would be acceptable for the relationship they very obviously have, wouldn’t it?
but before she has the chance to, he continues, and any thought yennefer has comes stuttering to a stop. the wolf jumps up into the cart, looks comfortable and familiar and trusting and like he belongs, and if she hadn’t already been convinced enough to come along, that would have done it for her. as it stands, julian calls her my dear and great and powerful and Yennefer of Vengerberg and yennefer stops in the spot she’d been standing, feels almost as if she stops breathing, entirely, as her eyes widen up at him.
could that be her? for a moment, yennefer aches with how close that description feels. how much she yearns for it to be true. how much she would do just about anything to make it that way. he calls her great and he calls her powerful and gods, she wants it so badly it hurts. it knocks the wind from her, nearly pulling her to her knees. her features shift, dramatically, back to a yennefer he probably recognizes a bit more, before the mist takes back over.
yennefer blinks, and that feeling is gone, and that need, that ache, vanishes back to the calm, the quiet, the misshapen jawline and protruding brow. julian’s hand is outstretched to her and her smile is genuine, young, uncertain but naive, in many ways. the hand outstretched to her is something she does not take for granted - and no matter the subtle, quiet voice in her that isn’t so convinced, yennefer takes the calloused palm. let’s him pull her up into the seat next to him.
she of course notices the rings, the wealth, the confidence he exudes. she has no idea how it is she came to be friends with someone so impressive, and she gives him a selfconcious smile at the question. ] Ah! Yes. He said his name was Kylo Ren. Do you know him? [ she’s unsure how much she should say, what information she should give, but something about julian and this journey through the horizon and the fact he is the first person who knows her and has for years gives her a sudden feeling that maybe it is okay to be honest. her eyes turn out and then back to julian as her voice pitches a bit low, closer to a whisper, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. ]
He is quite handsome, actually.