The elves created secret passages everywhere

[magicalarchaeologist]

WHO: Istredd and anyone!
WHAT: Catch-all for September
WHERE: Thorne, Horizon, Nocwich
WHEN: Nebulous all over September stuff.
WARNINGS: Spoilers for The Witcher season 3! PTSD from details within the season.





Starters Below!

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[magicalarchaeologist]

Istredd has been stripped open mentally lately due to dragging Lucifer back to sanity, so it is easy for them to melt into each other now, their minds tangling together like when they were younger and less afraid to share it all. He takes in her feelings and holds them to his heart, his own fear and anger and grief mixing. He shakes his head at what she says.

"He would have killed anyone who was there. He's ... so much more dangerous than any of us realized." Istredd doesn't think anyone who went with him would have made it. Tissaia herself couldn't handle him in his true power. Istredd wouldn't have wanted a death on his hands because he couldn't let the book go, no matter how important that book was. If he has to suffer for his choice, fine, but not someone else.

It's true though. Vilgefortz took everything from them. The relief floods through him about Triss, the idea that he might have left her to die haunted him right away. Not Triss, the kindest of them. She survived though and he lets out a breath he was holding, almost like a sob for air, just so fucking glad. Some of them made it.

The last thing he expects, despite all of this, is Tissaia being dead. That is what Yennefer means when she leaves off, and he knows what that means for her. He wants, for a moment, to ask about Stregobor, but he pushes it away because ... why should he? Why should he care about him? Yennefer actually loved Tissaia, so that is what matters. And he feels genuine grief then too, not entirely for Tissaia, who made her mistakes, but he sympathizes with her. Love made her blind. Don't they understand that? It's the worst kind of agony. His grief is for Yennefer, though.

"I'm sorry about Tissaia. It feels ... impossible to believe." Impossible that the leaders of the Brotherhood are dead or a betrayer like Vilgefortz? The pillars of their life, for better or for worse, swept away. He's thought about changing the Brotherhood before, and known it would only happen if the old guard was gone, but that isn't the same thing as wanting this. "I'm so sorry, Yenna." The girls did love Tissaia, as the boys never loved their mentors. He doesn't blame her for what Vilgefortz did, although he suspects she blamed herself.

As of now he's assuming she died in the fight though. She is a powerful mage, she must have gone down fighting, right? It's surreal. Istredd holds her tightly to him, kissing her forehead. "He's a coward. You will find him." A coward because he hid all that time, because he set up his own kind to die without caring, and his conniving ways will get him in the end. That is what Istredd wants to think, more than considering if he'll survive being under his thumb.

"What happened with Cirilla? Did he get her?" That had to be one of his intentions, on top of snagging Istredd and destroying the mages.

[vixening]

She feels his emotions fill her, his anger and grief and fear igniting her own anger tenfold, protective and panicked all at once. It feels almost impossible to swallow, knowing that she failed to find him in the rubble of Aretuza, just as she'd failed to find Ciri, just as she'd failed to save Tissaia. It feels like one thing after another, stacked atop each other, and Yennefer can't help but wonder what will be the final block. What will do it, after all of this.

But the thought is derailed by Istredd's words, by the understanding of what he means by it. Yennefer, in turn, tightens - her hands on his cheeks, her forehead pressed to his own. "I don't care. You shouldn't have had to be alone." She whispers at first, before taking another breath, letting her anger center her where she stands. When she'd gone to Geralt, when she'd whispered the same to him, it had been broken, quiet words. Sobs tucked somewhere in the quiet of Brokilon forest. Here, knowing some part of her life could be her's again...she is going to take it back. She will.

His relief floods through her at the news of Triss, and it's...gods, it's nice to feel it again. To have something good, something bright, that survived that night. Her thumbs brush over his cheeks, trying to be soothing, trying to hold onto that feeling (perhaps a bit selfishly), especially in light of the reminder of Tissaia. Some part of Yennefer still feels it, that hole in her chest, that part of her she'll never have back again. Never have her back again.

I'm sorry about Tissaia he says, and Yennefer feels the tears come back again, well in the corners of her eyes and spill over. She knows - had known Tissaia, to her very core. She understood the grief, the blame, the weight, the pain that she had felt. Had watched it all pile, day after day. And what had Yennefer done? Nothing. When she should have done anything at all, she'd instead been focused on finding Ciri, on moving forward, so quickly that she hadn't even realized Tissaia had fallen behind.

Istredd is assuming wrong, Yennefer knows. It's a thought she feels somewhere on the edges of her consciousness. She doesn't correct it, though he might notice that the sadness she carries is a bit heavier than even that. And maybe it's telling, just how much it hurts, that Yennefer lets herself curl into him then. That she needs the comfort, and she takes it now, letting her hands fall to wrap around his middle.

"He doesn't have her." Yennefer answers at first, letting out a breath. "She got away, but-" Gods, Yennefer hates this. Hates how no matter what she tries, it feels like everyone she cares about is slipping through her fingers. "She's missing. I'd gone to find her. She's here, from further down the path, so I know she's alright but. I couldn't find her..."

[magicalarchaeologist]

"It was my choice to go alone. A stupid one, for certain." Very faint humor, a gallows kind of humor. "Since he now has the book and me." Vilgefortz waited there for him. He knew. How much did that man know about all of them, how had he planned all of this to perfection? It's insane to think about, the ways he must have pulled every single string, the puppet mastering he'd managed for decades. And none of them suspected. Even the least trusting of them, Yennefer herself, was fooled. It's beyond him, manipulation of that level.

Vilgefortz made Stregobor and Tissaia look like children playing at manipulation in comparison. He could teach a master class all of his own.

Istredd is alone there, and it's only doom ahead of him, but he's not alone here. He has Yennefer right then in his arms, in his heart, in his head. And Lucifer bridged away, blocked for now, but just as present. They have all made a new life here, and while the memories are damaging, and horrifying, and will have lasting impacts, it doesn't change they are still here. They are back together, stronger than ever. He can hold her in a way he couldn't then.

Even dancing with her briefly at the party felt like they were so far away from each other, watching her be in love with Geralt so openly. And he wasn't jealous, just perhaps sad, seeing the end of something firmly, although it didn't stop him from working with them, becoming a team. It's the opposite, he knows love can be strong even when unrequited. But he is so grateful it isn't unrequited here, that they are together.

"I love you, Yenna, always." He tells her all of a sudden, just like that, and it might have felt like it came out of no where, if she wasn't in his mind, if they weren't bleeding into each other. She'd know that Istredd is remembering all that time apart and knowing they were over, to now having her again. He kisses her then, deep and desperate, just to secure that connection between them. It was broken before but it need not be here.

This is why he is grateful that Lucifer understands that there is no Istredd without Yennefer. Yennefer and Istredd share now because they love each other and have trust they lost as youths. They want each other's happiness. But they also want this. He kisses her face a few times after that. Her forehead, her cheeks. She cries about Tissaia and he holds her like they are back in that underground area, and she's crying about not being good enough.

They are together and it is something. He needs to believe that. As for Ciri. "You will find her. I know you will, all three of you are bound by destiny. There is nothing that can keep you apart in the end." Only death, really, but he knows all three of them are incredible survivors. Ciri is a child of destiny and the people who love her will always be enmeshed in destiny because of it.

"Who else made it out? Triss did, but Sabrina? The others?" He doesn't say Stregobor because he suspects he's dead but doesn't want to ask. It's a difficult situation to be in, to hate the man so much, for all his terrible everything, and yet a part of him, that boy within him, still wants to know.

[vixening]

She has a petulant sort of pushback ready in her throat. That's why I shouldn't have let you or You're never allowed to make that choice again or even I should have known better - but she doesn't give air to any of them. She know what he's trying for, knows as much as any of them the strength in gallows humor, but she's still stuck on the fact that Vilgefortz has him. Yennefer may have her arms around him, but on the Continent...how much time does he have? How could she not have seen this coming?

It hasn't sunk in just yet the fact that they've left it all behind. The visions still feel so fresh that Yennefer is stuck in the feeling of them, of the months she'd spent trying to train Ciri, the months she'd worked to regain Geralt's trust, the ball and the plan and dancing with Istredd. And, almost more intensely, the feeling of dread, the weight of Tissaia's body in her arms, standing in the ruins of Aretuza with her sisters. It clings to her skin, even in this hallway, even when she knows that the Continent is further away than they can even understand - and yet when she closes her eyes, it's all she sees.

Istredd's thoughts keep her grounded, his relief that they are here, the slightest brush on his emotions when he saw her at the ball. I love you, Yenna, always and he says it so casually, so easily. But it's not out of nowhere, it's not unfounded, it's just him - and she remembers it, too. The time they spent apart, the time she spent hating him. It feels almost out of body, having those feelings tucked away somewhere like the memory of an old injury. Here? Here, when he kisses her, Yennefer kisses him back - just as deep and desperate, just as secure. It's an answer in its own right, even if he couldn't read her mind, her emotions. It's that desperation, but her's - to have him here with her, to have him here.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." She whispers when they finally break apart, when he holds her through her tears again. And it's the truth, it's more than the truth. Now, especially, with the time and distance, she can recognize how dark of a place she'd been. How easily it would have been to slide further and further into that darkness. How his arrival had been one of the main, significant turns for her.

His reassurances, his hope, nearly makes her smile. Yennefer nods instead of answering him, not needing to voice any concern or uncertainty. She's already spoken to Ciri here, she knows she is fine. Any remnants of anxiety are just that - remnants. Leftovers from the visions alone.

"Triss and Sabrina both. Keira and Margarita." Yennefer sighs, shakes her head. "Fringilla, too, technically, though she returned to Redania." It feels...worse, somehow, naming them. Hearing just how few of them remain. She can feel him think of Stregobor, though he doesn't say his name aloud. Still, Yennefer watches Istredd's face, catches his eyes, then shakes her head. "We did not find his body, after he stepped in during the battle, but it's...the rubble, after everything. Not that the stubborn fuck wouldn't have found a way just to spite us, it's unlikely he survived."

Her hands go to his arms, then, just to have something to squeeze. A small comfort, in the face of the loss of your mentor, but it is all Yennefer can spare for Stregobor's sake in the moment. "I'm sorry."

[magicalarchaeologist]

There was nothing anyone could have done to stop him. It was literal chaos inside and Istredd had to choose in a split decision. He did know it was a risk, but he's always had eyes on the bigger picture. The plight of the mages was seriously but so was the plight of the entire continent. He had to prioritize. He truly didn't count on Vilgefortz thinking he was important enough to wait for. Istredd's not used to being seen, usually so good at falling through the cracks and being forgotten. If he valued himself as a prisoner worth having, he might have been more cautious, but he didn't see how he would be in danger until it was too late.

This place has made him more aware of what he has to offer and it's brought him alive. So the visions are disturbing and devastating and knowing his fate is no doubt violent is going to haunt him. And in response, he will hold onto the here and now. And to her.

"As long as I draw breath in this sphere, you'll never be without me." That's Istredd, a romantic to the core, but he says it with such surety, like an unbreakable vow. He did vow to himself never to forsake her again, to be the rock she needed to make up for her loneliness. This is stronger than that because he believes in it, in them. He fell in love with the girl from the pig farm, and he stayed in love with the witch. Loving Lucifer and this life he made doesn't change that. If only made his heart bigger.

He keeps her in his arms, grasping to her, needing that contact. Their grief is a living, breathing thing. A monster. He nods at the few people named. There's almost none of them now. The age of the Brotherhood and their mages is over. There's no way of knowing what can be made for them. No court power, only their own. He knows she can find a path.

Istredd didn't ask, didn't feel like he could, not with her who had been so thoroughly abused by Stregobor. Still, she knew without saying, and it hits him like a punch to the chest. Stregobor was a monster but there will always be that boy inside of him who loved him. No attempts at cutting it out worked. At least Yennefer had the benefit of knowing Tissaia's love. He gives a small nod in gratitude, letting out a breath. "You would know if he survived."

That is the truth, because Stregobor would never be silent. He would have already tried to take back over and turn them into his servants. So he's gone. "They're all gone. Our leaders." The oldest mages. "Where do we go next?" He still feels like a we.

[vixening]

Maybe that is a danger in and of itself - the belief that he can continue on this way, not being seen. Not being noticed. Yennefer knows that each of the Summoned within the castle has eyes on them, knows that no matter how much they might ward themselves, protect themselves, all it takes is a slip. She's a different person now than she was only a year and a half prior - a different mage, a different woman, a different sorceress. All this to say, if the Queen, or Ambrose, did decide to take a little too much notice...

It's a thought for a different time. For now, Istredd is looking at her - through her - making vows and weaving romantic words and she very nearly smiles at it all, almost wants to laugh. She came here to reassure him, to find out what he remembered and to remind him that she wouldn't just leave him like that to be- well. To die, like so many of the others had. And yet here Istredd was, making grand gestures, it's very nearly ridiculous. But it is also him, in enough ways that she can't help but feel it too, tucked somewhere behind her ribs. Pushing outwards, despite it all.

His grief winds through her own, the loss feeling both fresh and lived in. After so many decades, so many lifetimes, spent knowing that you were walking in the shadows of generations of still-living mages, and now knowing you were of very few still remaining...

It feels somehow apt and also shallow, to think of how this is all the dawning of a new era. And still, Yennefer doesn't know if she has any other words for it. Wonders, briefly, if it even matters - their home, their sphere, all that stood once before, was crumbling. But here-

What matters to her in that moment is the pain in her chest, the mirror of Istredd's, learning the news. She understands, even if she would never go as far as to compare Stregobor to Tissaia, she understands the complexities. The attachments. Tissaia had hardly been a loving, maternal figure in her life - but they did not get to choose who raised them. Who made them. She watches Istredd's face, keeps her hands around his arms and squeezes once more. A reminder she hasn't gone far, that she won't. And while there is a small voice in the back of her head that is not yet convinced that they've seen the end of that wretched excuse for a man, she doesn't see her theories as important to the topic.

"Those of us left from Aretuza have been talking. We wanted to..." Yennefer tightens her lips for a moment, shakes her head. She feels like she was right there, just there, standing in that room with them. She takes a breath. "We were rebuilding. Starting anew. Chaos is never going to leave the Continent, but the ways we learned to control it were outdated. Without the Brotherhood, we were going to make something else."

Were. Yennefer may not recognize, just yet, how much she does mean that past tense. Not that it matters right now. Which is why Yennefer finally lets go of Istredd's arms, her hands going to his face, her fingers running over his beard. "We are here, and we are not going to let anything like that happen. Not here, not when we know what can happen."

We can probably wrap on yours!

[magicalarchaeologist]

It's strange that they've seen royals and empires rise and fall, kingdoms get taken over, changes in the world happen to prove that no organization is untouchable, and yet when it came to their door, it seemed inconceivable. The Brotherhood has had an unbreakable hold on the continent and all the powers within it for so long that they became blind. No matter what they imagined as an attack on them, it wasn't believable that they could be wiped out. Not the way it happened.

Istredd's come to terms, or somewhat come to terms, with a lot of the darkest aspects of how they were raised. His complicated feelings about the Brotherhood and Stregobor haven't stopped existed with its demise, but he's dealt with it more. Even put words a few times to how deeply disturbing their raising actually was, albeit with a shrug and acceptance that it still happened and there was no turning back the clock. But there was an enabling, by never trying to change it, yet what could they do?

Now they can start fresh. No court power, no, but also no eels, they had the freedom to learn how to train people without the trauma. Yennefer knew what it was like to guide Ciri, to train with love rather than indifference, and it woule make a difference in whatever she built next.

"I can think of no one better to start it anew." And Istredd means it. She may not be the softest of them, but she's the strongest. Yennefer's never shied away from doing what has to be done, but at the same time, she's learned new ways. She's adaptable in a way their leaders could never be.

Istredd sighs and puts an arm around her waist, keeping her close. His other hand brushes her hair back, his eyes fixed on hers. "It just gives us more reason to find a way to make this our home. To find an anchor." It's his passion project, to find a way to lock the Summoned to this place, for those who want to stay. Now he's someone who has nothing good to look forward to.

"The Summoned are our people now, here." Istredd puts some care and compassion into Thorne at large, at some of the people who aren't the powers that be, but he's very certain of who he is really here to protect. "But just to remind you, Yenna, if our experience hasn't." The memories of them trusting each other, working together. "I love you. We will always be a team. The Brotherhood and Thorne be damned."