[ it is entirely possible he will live to see a day where he regrets this. yennefer has all but accepted the fact she knows she will regret all that she's let him know of herself, that she will live to see the day where even the darker, uglier sides of her will be immortalized in song; but that is also a problem for a different version of her. a different decade of her life. yennefer has accepted that she wouldn't be in this place right now if it hadn't been for jaskier - his song through the floorboards, his wavering voice when he spoke of the attack on bleobhris, their conversation below the deck of what was supposed to be her escape, and all that followed. or, if she were to be more honest, it is the image of the tavern in his horizon, the sound of snapping tucked away in dark corners. the bird, her sandpiper, sitting at her windowsill when she had no one else. the room within this very place, just a few floors above them, that had been for her when she hadn't anywhere else.
it all feels so very far away now, even when she knows it was only a year or so, but she knows what it had done for her. years and years worth of material that jaskier will always have, and yennefer has just come to a place where she will live with whatever comes of that.
he squeezes her hand, which is how she knows he feels it, and yennefer watches his face. she knows the various ways the spell could be done, how different mages work the chaos through another's mind to pull important information, clues from days long gone by, interactions that would aid the kingdoms they'd been assigned. yennefer's felt it forced upon her just as often as she's welcomed it in, an opening of gates, a sharing. yennefer's eyes only fall closed when she catches her first sight of the prince - her body, dressed in long dark fabrics, walking along the outer edge of each interaction, each moment, down to the very end.
his voice is what prompts her to open her eyes, and she does notice how he doesn't pull out from her hand. yennefer listens, watches the way the smile doesn't ever really form, and it's not until jaskier is done that she finally exhales - her thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles, a mindless motion, something she's not even all that aware of herself. ]
The last I checked, we did not choose who it is we fall in love with. You should know this better than most, what with your open heart. [ and it feels...gods, she feels for him, in her own way. a pang in her chest, right behind her ribs, knowing that there is nothing to be done.
she can still picture the image he'd shown her, of the shape of radovid standing above ciri's empty bed, and yennefer struggles to separate her own mild panic with what she is sure was jaskier's response in the moment, too. of what came after, even though they both know she's safe. but more than that, yennefer finds herself caught up on the hollow sound of jaskier's voice. or, maybe it isn't hollow. maybe it is something else entirely. but she wants to help, even when she knows there is nothing to be done.
still, when has that stopped her before? she tugs his hand further across the table, closer to her, just to catch his attention. when he looks, her eyes will be direct. serious. intent. ]
You're allowed to miss him. [ because it's not as though yennefer herself hasn't made mistakes, made then in numbers greater than any one person probably should. she doesn't even know if that's why there is something tangled behind jaskier's eyes, but she tries for it anyway.
in the end, ciri is safe. she is alive, and she is here, with them. and whatever wars will follow them, whatever shifting of the continent was soon to follow, it will all work out. because she is safe. ] Just as you're allowed to forget him, if that is what you want.
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it all feels so very far away now, even when she knows it was only a year or so, but she knows what it had done for her. years and years worth of material that jaskier will always have, and yennefer has just come to a place where she will live with whatever comes of that.
he squeezes her hand, which is how she knows he feels it, and yennefer watches his face. she knows the various ways the spell could be done, how different mages work the chaos through another's mind to pull important information, clues from days long gone by, interactions that would aid the kingdoms they'd been assigned. yennefer's felt it forced upon her just as often as she's welcomed it in, an opening of gates, a sharing. yennefer's eyes only fall closed when she catches her first sight of the prince - her body, dressed in long dark fabrics, walking along the outer edge of each interaction, each moment, down to the very end.
his voice is what prompts her to open her eyes, and she does notice how he doesn't pull out from her hand. yennefer listens, watches the way the smile doesn't ever really form, and it's not until jaskier is done that she finally exhales - her thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles, a mindless motion, something she's not even all that aware of herself. ]
The last I checked, we did not choose who it is we fall in love with. You should know this better than most, what with your open heart. [ and it feels...gods, she feels for him, in her own way. a pang in her chest, right behind her ribs, knowing that there is nothing to be done.
she can still picture the image he'd shown her, of the shape of radovid standing above ciri's empty bed, and yennefer struggles to separate her own mild panic with what she is sure was jaskier's response in the moment, too. of what came after, even though they both know she's safe. but more than that, yennefer finds herself caught up on the hollow sound of jaskier's voice. or, maybe it isn't hollow. maybe it is something else entirely. but she wants to help, even when she knows there is nothing to be done.
still, when has that stopped her before? she tugs his hand further across the table, closer to her, just to catch his attention. when he looks, her eyes will be direct. serious. intent. ]
You're allowed to miss him. [ because it's not as though yennefer herself hasn't made mistakes, made then in numbers greater than any one person probably should. she doesn't even know if that's why there is something tangled behind jaskier's eyes, but she tries for it anyway.
in the end, ciri is safe. she is alive, and she is here, with them. and whatever wars will follow them, whatever shifting of the continent was soon to follow, it will all work out. because she is safe. ] Just as you're allowed to forget him, if that is what you want.