[ It isn't accurate to say he's never seen her so vulnerable. He has. Even when she doesn't realize, even when she thinks she's hiding it well—he's seen it. Heard it in the beat of her heart. But this feels different, too. It feels...hopeful. It almost makes him afraid to lean into it, into her and all the things he's wanted. He nearly doesn't. A part of him instinctively wants to draw away—but she's always been so good at getting him to yield and he does. He trails his fingers through her hair and lets her explore his chest, lets her drink him in. He does the same. ]
Mm. [ He knows. That's not left his mind since he realized. Her, Jaskier, him. Ciri knows all of them, is close with them. Which means, for all that he'd turned away from each of them and they from him, their paths crossed. He'd just not wanted to let it mean anything. Because it might not. Because it might simply mean Ciri learned from Yen in a distant place, sent to her across the Continent. It does not have to mean they're—
(He wants it to mean that. And it's so fucking hard to ignore it when he can tell how much Yennefer wants it to mean that, too. That they find their way to each other. ) ]
I suppose no matter what, you'd have been the only mage I could trust with her. [ That's true enough. What might've been between them, where Ciri and her magic was concerned, who else would he have turned to but Yen? Someone with a similar amount of chaos that needed control?
No. They can't be rid of each other. Not fully. And as her hand curls around his medallion, finding the pendant on the chain, he finds he can't stop thinking about the look on Ciri's face as she asked, What is Yennefer doing? He saves the question for another time. The things he still wants to ask her about, talk to her about. Right now, he wants to turn his attention to Yennefer grasping the token, as though she can't quite be certain he's really wearing it. ]
Did you hope I'd find it? [ The question is quiet, honest. He wants to know. ]
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Mm. [ He knows. That's not left his mind since he realized. Her, Jaskier, him. Ciri knows all of them, is close with them. Which means, for all that he'd turned away from each of them and they from him, their paths crossed. He'd just not wanted to let it mean anything. Because it might not. Because it might simply mean Ciri learned from Yen in a distant place, sent to her across the Continent. It does not have to mean they're—
(He wants it to mean that. And it's so fucking hard to ignore it when he can tell how much Yennefer wants it to mean that, too. That they find their way to each other. ) ]
I suppose no matter what, you'd have been the only mage I could trust with her. [ That's true enough. What might've been between them, where Ciri and her magic was concerned, who else would he have turned to but Yen? Someone with a similar amount of chaos that needed control?
No. They can't be rid of each other. Not fully. And as her hand curls around his medallion, finding the pendant on the chain, he finds he can't stop thinking about the look on Ciri's face as she asked, What is Yennefer doing? He saves the question for another time. The things he still wants to ask her about, talk to her about. Right now, he wants to turn his attention to Yennefer grasping the token, as though she can't quite be certain he's really wearing it. ]
Did you hope I'd find it? [ The question is quiet, honest. He wants to know. ]