[ The air is thick between them. He makes a faint noise. Yeah. So was he. What would she have done, if they had hauled him back out in front of her? What would he have done? He wants to tell her she should've come with him, that she should come now—but he knows, whatever may be going on in Thorne, they need her there. Any of these states can fall at any moment. He wants Ciri nowhere near Thorne if they can help it, but he can see a time when with Yennefer, hidden in plain sight, is where the girl might be safest instead.
These are all things they're both aware of. She needn't tell him and he suspects she knows that: how the messages are difficult to trust, that they can't be seen together, that he's been allowed to slip free for now. He knows he's still marked, that likely he will always be marked by that magic signature, and if Thorne has truly wanted him, they could've rode after him through the mountains. The only new piece of information is The Dimming. Not that it matters to him. What does he care of a festival held across the world? She has not summoned him here to tell him of the local chatter and idle warnings.
Without thinking, his hand rises to the medallion at his chest, the pendant behind it. His fingers are still rough, with broken half-grown nails. He doesn't recall what happened in that room. Not all of it. He knows what happened, knows what he felt (knows what she did), but he hasn't a fucking idea how long he was there afterwards, what else they did to him, if he were even conscious. He'd woken up in the dungeons with blood in his mouth, his head full of crushed glass, full of jagged visions he does not want, and that's the only thing he remembers. ]
Yen. [ He's quiet, but there's a firmness to it. He will not indulge a bullshit conversation around the real reason they are sitting together. He tries again, almost the same question but not quite. ] Why am I here?
no subject
These are all things they're both aware of. She needn't tell him and he suspects she knows that: how the messages are difficult to trust, that they can't be seen together, that he's been allowed to slip free for now. He knows he's still marked, that likely he will always be marked by that magic signature, and if Thorne has truly wanted him, they could've rode after him through the mountains. The only new piece of information is The Dimming. Not that it matters to him. What does he care of a festival held across the world? She has not summoned him here to tell him of the local chatter and idle warnings.
Without thinking, his hand rises to the medallion at his chest, the pendant behind it. His fingers are still rough, with broken half-grown nails. He doesn't recall what happened in that room. Not all of it. He knows what happened, knows what he felt (knows what she did), but he hasn't a fucking idea how long he was there afterwards, what else they did to him, if he were even conscious. He'd woken up in the dungeons with blood in his mouth, his head full of crushed glass, full of jagged visions he does not want, and that's the only thing he remembers. ]
Yen. [ He's quiet, but there's a firmness to it. He will not indulge a bullshit conversation around the real reason they are sitting together. He tries again, almost the same question but not quite. ] Why am I here?