[ it is not an active, recognized thing - but it is something that happens. that rise in temperature, that acknowledgment of the moment, the fact that her anger has risen as it always does - a bubbling over, uncontrollable and unable to be contained. there is hardly a middle ground when it comes to yennefer's reactions - she either has to put forth the effort to keep her anger contained, or she lets it loose, like a volcano blowing its top. and her anger continues, a barrage that has no schedule, no foreseeable end, just to see if she can get something back. perhaps it is why she always brings it back to this, to a mistake he made when he was young and reckless, that had broken one of the few remaining parts of her that someone else had the power to break.
but now - now - she watches as istredd's anger boils up. watches what had, up until this point, been his swallowing of her punches, his silent acceptance of her ire. it is the quickest way for her anger to subside, or to divert somewhere else, to give nothing back, nothing to respond to. but now - now she sees it, now she can taste it in the air. there is fire behind his eyes, and she is no longer the only person smoking, the only one feeling the flames lick at her hands, her feet, catch at the fabric of her dress. it is not satisfaction, exactly, that she feels - but instead the sensation that she is not the only one. istredd turns to her with fire in his eyes, and she does not turn away, does not back down, feeling off his own heat just as much as she creates her own. ]
Everything I got I took for myself - because that's how the world works. If you don't have the power to take it, you will get nothing, and be given nothing. [ but that isn't what he's saying, is it? she moves even closer to him as she continues, her anger palpable. ] And I came back to you, that was my choice. I came all the way to the asshole of Nilfgaard for you and you still turned me away. That- that was yours.
[ because she will not, will not, linger on that question he asked. as if you've never hurt people you cared about by being stupid and short-sighted? no, she won't think about it, won't give it a second's pause. so instead, it's on to her and him, of their history, of the pain she hasn't quite shaken. on the pain that she's terrified she never will. of the monster she felt herself become to make her stand at sodden, and the monster she has yet to become, but will, apparently, no matter how much she wants to fight it.
and now he wants to be angry with her for what- for not telling him? for figuring this out on her own? she lets loose a sharp noise, a kind of laugh at the concept that he thinks she is afraid of anything at all. there's a part of her that nearly turns away from him then, just because he is so far off base that it feels comical, but that is the moment he grabs her arms. when he holds her in place. and it's the touch that lights a whole new layer to her eyes, hissing back to him when she finally replies. ]
I was headed to Cintra. I had made it to Oxenfurt and had secured passage when- [ when I left to save jaskier. she recognizes the words before they leave her mouth, so she cuts them off, refusing to admit it here. to him. because what good would it do? admitting that she had chosen instead to chase down that stupid, foolish bard because he'd gotten himself wrapped up in more trouble than he could handle? and that against all odds, she had been willing to go back for him, to give up her chance to get to cintra to help him, and for what? istredd does not know who jaskier is. does not know who he is, to her, to any of this. so instead yennefer makes a frustrated noise, breaking eye contact for the first time since this all started to shake her head. ] I was captured. That- [ a beat, and she sees the hut. sees voleth mier. sees-
yennefer swallows, feels momentarily stilled, almost calm. ] That's it. I was here once more.
[ she moves, then, because while istredd's hands are on her arms, she reaches forward to grip at the collar of his tunic - holding him still so he can see the sharp edge to her expression when she starts again. ]
The Queen does not know, Istredd. Do you understand what I mean by that? The Queen, the Court, Ambrose… [ and because it is him, this is probably the first time in this conversation that he can sense the hidden layer under the words. how her hands tighten in the fabric of his tunic where she keeps him close, perhaps to keep them from the slightest chance of trembling. the fear, that yennefer has pushed down so far it is easier to explode in anger.
of what would happen if she did, of the void that still waits for her, each time she calls for her chaos. whether or not he has studied the ins and outs of the thornean court, he will have heard the rumors, the stories of great power, great magic, great deeds that the venerable yennefer of vengerberg has accomplished. how the queen had chosen her, not months after she had been released from the prison cells under that very castle, because of the queen's curiosity in the capabilities of the summoned. how ellya thought highly of her own magical abilities, of those of her pet mage grigory, but that she kept yennefer close all the same.
no subject
but now - now - she watches as istredd's anger boils up. watches what had, up until this point, been his swallowing of her punches, his silent acceptance of her ire. it is the quickest way for her anger to subside, or to divert somewhere else, to give nothing back, nothing to respond to. but now - now she sees it, now she can taste it in the air. there is fire behind his eyes, and she is no longer the only person smoking, the only one feeling the flames lick at her hands, her feet, catch at the fabric of her dress. it is not satisfaction, exactly, that she feels - but instead the sensation that she is not the only one. istredd turns to her with fire in his eyes, and she does not turn away, does not back down, feeling off his own heat just as much as she creates her own. ]
Everything I got I took for myself - because that's how the world works. If you don't have the power to take it, you will get nothing, and be given nothing. [ but that isn't what he's saying, is it? she moves even closer to him as she continues, her anger palpable. ] And I came back to you, that was my choice. I came all the way to the asshole of Nilfgaard for you and you still turned me away. That- that was yours.
[ because she will not, will not, linger on that question he asked. as if you've never hurt people you cared about by being stupid and short-sighted? no, she won't think about it, won't give it a second's pause. so instead, it's on to her and him, of their history, of the pain she hasn't quite shaken. on the pain that she's terrified she never will. of the monster she felt herself become to make her stand at sodden, and the monster she has yet to become, but will, apparently, no matter how much she wants to fight it.
and now he wants to be angry with her for what- for not telling him? for figuring this out on her own? she lets loose a sharp noise, a kind of laugh at the concept that he thinks she is afraid of anything at all. there's a part of her that nearly turns away from him then, just because he is so far off base that it feels comical, but that is the moment he grabs her arms. when he holds her in place. and it's the touch that lights a whole new layer to her eyes, hissing back to him when she finally replies. ]
I was headed to Cintra. I had made it to Oxenfurt and had secured passage when- [ when I left to save jaskier. she recognizes the words before they leave her mouth, so she cuts them off, refusing to admit it here. to him. because what good would it do? admitting that she had chosen instead to chase down that stupid, foolish bard because he'd gotten himself wrapped up in more trouble than he could handle? and that against all odds, she had been willing to go back for him, to give up her chance to get to cintra to help him, and for what? istredd does not know who jaskier is. does not know who he is, to her, to any of this. so instead yennefer makes a frustrated noise, breaking eye contact for the first time since this all started to shake her head. ] I was captured. That- [ a beat, and she sees the hut. sees voleth mier. sees-
yennefer swallows, feels momentarily stilled, almost calm. ] That's it. I was here once more.
[ she moves, then, because while istredd's hands are on her arms, she reaches forward to grip at the collar of his tunic - holding him still so he can see the sharp edge to her expression when she starts again. ]
The Queen does not know, Istredd. Do you understand what I mean by that? The Queen, the Court, Ambrose… [ and because it is him, this is probably the first time in this conversation that he can sense the hidden layer under the words. how her hands tighten in the fabric of his tunic where she keeps him close, perhaps to keep them from the slightest chance of trembling. the fear, that yennefer has pushed down so far it is easier to explode in anger.
of what would happen if she did, of the void that still waits for her, each time she calls for her chaos. whether or not he has studied the ins and outs of the thornean court, he will have heard the rumors, the stories of great power, great magic, great deeds that the venerable yennefer of vengerberg has accomplished. how the queen had chosen her, not months after she had been released from the prison cells under that very castle, because of the queen's curiosity in the capabilities of the summoned. how ellya thought highly of her own magical abilities, of those of her pet mage grigory, but that she kept yennefer close all the same.
what that could mean for her, now. ]
She doesn't suspect anything, and she can't.