[ There was a time, he remembers, when he would sit and wonder about the reasons his mother left him. Among the multitude of them, he always thought at least once: perhaps she didn't know. In his mind, this was the kindest option. That she didn't know where he would be taken or what was to happen to him. But she knew, didn't she? She knew everything and she gave him over, anyway.
He should've learned not to wait for better, from the people who have wounded him deepest. He doesn't know how to stop. Some part of him keeps searching for it and he never finds it.
His eyes narrow. Has Yennefer not heard a word he's said? No. She's always only ever heard what she wants. ]
You will not. You've done enough. [ He does not need her protecting Ciri. He has done it this entire time—back home, here, it has been everyone except her by Ciri's side. Jaskier has done more to protect Ciri. Sam has done more. Yennefer has remained in Thorne, working her way up. He told himself to trust her because Ciri does. The only thing it has netted them is a near-miss with the queen finding out the truth and one of his darkest memories clawed to the surface. He tried, after all that, to believe there could be something, that he hadn't—opened himself up for nothing. There isn't.
What the fuck has she even given up? After everyone he lost, everything he went through for Ciri, what did she give? And he knows. He knows she gave her life. It means something, it does. But there is a cold, hollow part of him that almost doesn't want it to. That feels like she has not earned it here, as she is, making these same choices she doesn't remember making.
Maybe it isn't fair. Maybe he doesn't want to be fair. Maybe he wants to let the bitterness take over. Maybe he is tired of being the one to shoulder the burden of understanding, of reaching past jagged edges only to find himself cut to pieces. He promised to keep Ciri safe and in the end, that is the only thing which matters. Yennefer can do what she will—if she wants to believe she is protecting the girl, if she wants to chase her magic, he no longer cares. The only thing he cares about is that she does not put Ciri in danger. ]
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He should've learned not to wait for better, from the people who have wounded him deepest. He doesn't know how to stop. Some part of him keeps searching for it and he never finds it.
His eyes narrow. Has Yennefer not heard a word he's said? No. She's always only ever heard what she wants. ]
You will not. You've done enough. [ He does not need her protecting Ciri. He has done it this entire time—back home, here, it has been everyone except her by Ciri's side. Jaskier has done more to protect Ciri. Sam has done more. Yennefer has remained in Thorne, working her way up. He told himself to trust her because Ciri does. The only thing it has netted them is a near-miss with the queen finding out the truth and one of his darkest memories clawed to the surface. He tried, after all that, to believe there could be something, that he hadn't—opened himself up for nothing. There isn't.
What the fuck has she even given up? After everyone he lost, everything he went through for Ciri, what did she give? And he knows. He knows she gave her life. It means something, it does. But there is a cold, hollow part of him that almost doesn't want it to. That feels like she has not earned it here, as she is, making these same choices she doesn't remember making.
Maybe it isn't fair. Maybe he doesn't want to be fair. Maybe he wants to let the bitterness take over. Maybe he is tired of being the one to shoulder the burden of understanding, of reaching past jagged edges only to find himself cut to pieces. He promised to keep Ciri safe and in the end, that is the only thing which matters. Yennefer can do what she will—if she wants to believe she is protecting the girl, if she wants to chase her magic, he no longer cares. The only thing he cares about is that she does not put Ciri in danger. ]