Who: yennefer + others When: july Where: nott + nocwich What: after the events of the coup and yennefer's escape to nott, she is making due in what she suspects will be her new normal. Warnings: will update if needed.
[ it would make sense- for them both to draw their own, but similar, conclusions. would make sense that they see the similarities in her.
they’ve each settled into something they could almost call a life, something they might almost consider theirs, were it not their understanding of how quickly these things could be taken from them. yennefer, in just the last week or so, has had much of what she would have considered her life striped from under her very feet, if not for the people. if not for her people.
(she chooses not to think of those she’s lost- of how even triss had once been here, nevermind the countless others they’ve watched disappear. it doesn’t help her, in this moment, to acknowledge the things they’ve lost, whether shared or separate. )
but yennefer does snort, at his words. here and there. she knows the truth, the things he doesn’t say. the breadth of what she assumes is his family, his group, his people. she watches him grow quiet even now, studies the likes of his jaw, his neck. their hands are intertwined, but she decides that isn’t quite close enough, shifting so that her head is set against his shoulder, her body pressed to his side. she feels, slow and low and deep beneath the surface, the casual beat of his heart. ]
You’re thinking of them, now. [ her voice is just as casual, just as lulled into their easy companionship. her eyes remain on their hands, and she sounds… relaxed.
it feels like this might be a first for them - talking about this, even when they’ve known otherwise for years. the other people in their circles, those they’ve let in. perhaps it isn’t fair, that she’s making the reach, the magic and presence of her in his thoughts something he must be used to even after their time apart. ] Him.
[ Hm. There she goes, prodding away. He isn't bothered, and it saves him the effort of having to explain precisely who and what is on his mind. Or why. Him indeed. Now that Yen's magic has returned, now that they are no longer so distant, he's sure she has felt the many people that circle his thoughts despite his claims otherwise.
Lately, however, he's found fewer reasons to pretend.
He studies the curve of her lips. ] He was injured in the attack.
[ John is all right, from what Geralt gathers, so he isn't especially worried about that. It is, he thinks, a much simpler desire than worry or fear or anything so terrible: he just wants to see the man. Perhaps he's drawn to the way John bares his heart so unlike anyone else Geralt has been with. It tugs on something within him he had not known could exist with...well, anybody, beyond maybe Ciri. He's grown accustomed to a certain distance, playful or otherwise, that permeates most of his relationships, no matter how close he grows to someone.
And because he cannot read her thoughts in return: ] Have you met?
[ she has. geralt has always been someone with lists of attachments, most kept beyond an arms reach, but many making their way under his skin. she had known of some of them, when they were all in thorne, those years ago, and could assume based on their distanced interactions over time. geralt had many people that circle his thoughts, some yennefer knew and many she did not. still, she does not go searching like she could. only really goes for the one that takes up geralt's thoughts now.
he was injured in the attack and a few more details fall into place. a city guard, a quiet man, a kind of softness she can just barely make out. yennefer is certain she'd seen him around the castle, but to geralt's question, she shakes her head. ]
I did not see much of the city guards. I was more acquainted with the royal ones- particularly Ellya's dedicated ones. [ she shrugs - when she thinks back on her time in the castle, how fully integrated into it she had been and how far distanced she feels to it now, it's difficult to really think about who she had or hadn't known. she went into the city itself from time to time, but not nearly as often as she probably should have. or could have. and now, never will again.
but that's not what they're talking about, so she turns back to the conversation. ]
[ Mm. That would be consistent with how the kingdom operates, he supposes. As far as he knows, John has little to do with the royals and that appears to be how he preferred it. Patrolling the streets and being with his men. Geralt would not deny he'd feel better with John elsewhere, but he understands the need for the familiarity. And Thorne would be far more familiar to John than the Free Cities.
Still. He intends to speak to John about it. So that John can at least have a choice. ]
At the Masquerade. Amongst the Fey. I saw his true face a few weeks later. [ He curls a lock of dark hair around his finger. ] I think I made him nervous.
[ Not because he was a Witcher but because of something far more mundane.
His lips quirk. He gives her hair a gentle tug. ] Have I made you curious?
[ yennefer hums, remembering the masquerade. remember the freedom the masks had given them all, but particularly how much she'd felt it. it had been a good night, all things considered, though the memory of others who she'd attended the event with is suddenly heavier in her chest than it was a moment ago.
I think I made him nervous geralt says, and yennefer's lips turn up, thinking she perhaps knows what it is geralt is referring to. at the tug, yennefer looks up at him, sees the quirk of his own mouth. it is warm, in this room. warm curled up against his side on this threadbare bed.
she sets a hand on his chest, taps with one finger over his heart. ]
I'm always curious as to who makes it in here. [ she is teasing, though only partially. ] And we don't generally have many opportunities to talk about them.
[ It had been a good night. One that fell apart not long after in the hunting woods but perhaps that was only to be expected. They've never been spectacular at keeping things good. This time, it may be different. Geralt should like to think so. It feels different, and it is in part the conversation they are having.
He has seldom spoken to Yennefer about the other parts of his life. She hasn't, either. They've stayed so separate from one another.
He smiles. He wants to wave away her implication, but he doesn't. Instead, he says: ] Then shall I talk about you next?
[ He doesn't wait for her to answer. ]
He's a good man. [ His lips twist wryly. ] A little too good.
[ He does not mean for him; those are not the types of thoughts that Geralt has. He means too good for the world they live in. For the circumstances they find themselves in. ]
[ most of their good nights did no last, just as most of their safe days ended. yennefer had gotten used to those changes, those shifts in their tides. something about this feels different, but she also isn't quite sure yet if it is something she can depend on.
for now - she knows that they have this night. that she has him, in this night. for however long it will last.
he smiles, and she does in turn, the feeling warm and full in her chest. ] You can, if you'd like. I won't stop you.
[ a good man. yennefer...doesn't snort, exactly, but there is something knowing in the sound she makes. a little too good. the two of them have lived too much life and swam through too much shit to forget where too good of people generally end up.
still, there is a kind of pause in him when he says that, and yennefer knows what he doesn't say. ]
[ Frankly, he had not asked nor wondered, which is perhaps a fact Yennefer will not find unusual for Geralt. He seldom wastes his time digging for what he deems frivolous information and for him, it had never made any difference whether John was in Thorne for a month or a year when they met.
Though he does know John was not there for the abductions. (For which he is thankful.) He also knows he first saw John in the Feywilds. That places his arrival somewhere mid-spring of the year before. ]
I'm not sure you'd like him, [ he muses, a playful edge to his tone. ] He might be too courteous for your tastes. Not nearly coarse enough.
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they’ve each settled into something they could almost call a life, something they might almost consider theirs, were it not their understanding of how quickly these things could be taken from them. yennefer, in just the last week or so, has had much of what she would have considered her life striped from under her very feet, if not for the people. if not for her people.
(she chooses not to think of those she’s lost- of how even triss had once been here, nevermind the countless others they’ve watched disappear. it doesn’t help her, in this moment, to acknowledge the things they’ve lost, whether shared or separate. )
but yennefer does snort, at his words. here and there. she knows the truth, the things he doesn’t say. the breadth of what she assumes is his family, his group, his people. she watches him grow quiet even now, studies the likes of his jaw, his neck. their hands are intertwined, but she decides that isn’t quite close enough, shifting so that her head is set against his shoulder, her body pressed to his side. she feels, slow and low and deep beneath the surface, the casual beat of his heart. ]
You’re thinking of them, now. [ her voice is just as casual, just as lulled into their easy companionship. her eyes remain on their hands, and she sounds… relaxed.
it feels like this might be a first for them - talking about this, even when they’ve known otherwise for years. the other people in their circles, those they’ve let in. perhaps it isn’t fair, that she’s making the reach, the magic and presence of her in his thoughts something he must be used to even after their time apart. ] Him.
no subject
Lately, however, he's found fewer reasons to pretend.
He studies the curve of her lips. ] He was injured in the attack.
[ John is all right, from what Geralt gathers, so he isn't especially worried about that. It is, he thinks, a much simpler desire than worry or fear or anything so terrible: he just wants to see the man. Perhaps he's drawn to the way John bares his heart so unlike anyone else Geralt has been with. It tugs on something within him he had not known could exist with...well, anybody, beyond maybe Ciri. He's grown accustomed to a certain distance, playful or otherwise, that permeates most of his relationships, no matter how close he grows to someone.
And because he cannot read her thoughts in return: ] Have you met?
no subject
he was injured in the attack and a few more details fall into place. a city guard, a quiet man, a kind of softness she can just barely make out. yennefer is certain she'd seen him around the castle, but to geralt's question, she shakes her head. ]
I did not see much of the city guards. I was more acquainted with the royal ones- particularly Ellya's dedicated ones. [ she shrugs - when she thinks back on her time in the castle, how fully integrated into it she had been and how far distanced she feels to it now, it's difficult to really think about who she had or hadn't known. she went into the city itself from time to time, but not nearly as often as she probably should have. or could have. and now, never will again.
but that's not what they're talking about, so she turns back to the conversation. ]
Where did you meet him?
no subject
Still. He intends to speak to John about it. So that John can at least have a choice. ]
At the Masquerade. Amongst the Fey. I saw his true face a few weeks later. [ He curls a lock of dark hair around his finger. ] I think I made him nervous.
[ Not because he was a Witcher but because of something far more mundane.
His lips quirk. He gives her hair a gentle tug. ] Have I made you curious?
no subject
I think I made him nervous geralt says, and yennefer's lips turn up, thinking she perhaps knows what it is geralt is referring to. at the tug, yennefer looks up at him, sees the quirk of his own mouth. it is warm, in this room. warm curled up against his side on this threadbare bed.
she sets a hand on his chest, taps with one finger over his heart. ]
I'm always curious as to who makes it in here. [ she is teasing, though only partially. ] And we don't generally have many opportunities to talk about them.
no subject
He has seldom spoken to Yennefer about the other parts of his life. She hasn't, either. They've stayed so separate from one another.
He smiles. He wants to wave away her implication, but he doesn't. Instead, he says: ] Then shall I talk about you next?
[ He doesn't wait for her to answer. ]
He's a good man. [ His lips twist wryly. ] A little too good.
[ He does not mean for him; those are not the types of thoughts that Geralt has. He means too good for the world they live in. For the circumstances they find themselves in. ]
no subject
for now - she knows that they have this night. that she has him, in this night. for however long it will last.
he smiles, and she does in turn, the feeling warm and full in her chest. ] You can, if you'd like. I won't stop you.
[ a good man. yennefer...doesn't snort, exactly, but there is something knowing in the sound she makes. a little too good. the two of them have lived too much life and swam through too much shit to forget where too good of people generally end up.
still, there is a kind of pause in him when he says that, and yennefer knows what he doesn't say. ]
How long has he been in the castle?
no subject
[ Frankly, he had not asked nor wondered, which is perhaps a fact Yennefer will not find unusual for Geralt. He seldom wastes his time digging for what he deems frivolous information and for him, it had never made any difference whether John was in Thorne for a month or a year when they met.
Though he does know John was not there for the abductions. (For which he is thankful.) He also knows he first saw John in the Feywilds. That places his arrival somewhere mid-spring of the year before. ]
I'm not sure you'd like him, [ he muses, a playful edge to his tone. ] He might be too courteous for your tastes. Not nearly coarse enough.