[A braver man may have insisted Yennefer tell him what, exactly, is so important that she expects his presence without even a somewhat gentle request. And so here he is, lifting himself out of his life and current pursuits as if he has little going on, and -- and yes, he's dragged Geralt with him, not because he wishes to force the two of them together (he is not interested in forcing anything between witch and Witcher) but because Jaskier has now real reason to be cautious about traveling alone. Especially to Nocwich.
It is a very good thing he enjoys Nocwich. Though he has yet to spy Sten again, it would have felt, even for him, a little overbearing to request some sort of... escort.
Though it is good enough, he thinks, to have Geralt with him; not only because he is more than a force to be reckoned with, but because Jaskier feels no guilt in lifting the bag Mog is currently curled into and putting it in Geralt's hands.] Be nice to him, all right? I don't want your presence distracting her.
[Whether he's talking to Geralt or the gryphon remains a mystery.
Geralt remains outside the room as Jaskier walks inside, closing the door behind him for the illusion of privacy (he does not doubt Geralt can hear through the door.) Though he held more than mild feelings of trepidation in even traveling again (as he does outside Cadens at all now,) Jaskier visibly brightens, straightening up, to see Yennefer -- for what feels like years -- physically here, in the flesh. He's already reaching for her hands without thinking of it.] I know you did not only invite me for wining and dining, but I certainly can't complain if you did. It must be good news, mustn't it?
[ truthfully, yennefer should be a bit more on guard as she moves about nocwich - there is still real danger here, and she knows that whatever it was that begun last she was here, it is far from over. but at the same time, the idea of having someone over her shoulder, of there being a set of eyes on her at all times, it makes her skin crawl. anyone thorne appointed would mean half the reasons for her trip would have to be put on hold, and the idea of asking someone… no. she would rather force herself through that fear, would rather harbor that dark, solid feeling of anxiety, than ask for that sort of help.
for now, she makes her arrangements. she does what she can to make this meeting secretive, and then pushes away whatever worries she might have otherwise, because what boils over inside of her is enough to keep her going.
jaskier steps through and closes the doors behind him, and yennefer nearly bounces on her feet, meeting him halfway as he starts towards her. her sandpiper twitters happily, but whether that’s a reaction to yennefer’s own bright smile, or at jaskier’s presence, it’s hard to tell. when they meet, jaskier’s hands go for her own, and yennefer wastes no time in taking hold of his. in squeezing them, once, as she tugs him with her as she takes a few more steps back, bringing them to the center of the room. ]
If I simply wanted food and wine, I would make use of your cellar. No, this is more than that. Much more. I- [ gods, it’s good to see him - part of her almost forgets it. how different it feels to have him here, flesh and blood, rather than whatever image they want to see. for a brief moment it’s almost too much, having the chance to reach across and grab his face if she wanted to, to not worry for at least these moments about presentations, or factions, or anything else.
she shakes her head, squeezing his hands once more, arguably a bit too tightly as she speaks. her words are quick, not quite stumbling over themselves, but close, the same sort of barely contained energy that seems to be vibrating through her. ]
No, this you have to see in person. It’s- it’s something I was just able to- just. Watch.
[ she lets go of his hands, then, but does not go far - instead cupping her hands together between them. she closes her eyes for a moment, concentrating, and when she opens her hands a second or so after, between them is a miniature version (about the size of a mouse) of her sandpiper made from what appears to be smoke and air. it hops across her palms and opens its beak, a few notes of melody releasing from it, before it takes flight and, as soon as it leaves her hands, the smoke dissipates into air once again. ]
It is only an illusion, but- [ her voice is a bit softer, though that buoyancy is still there. and when jaskier turns back to see her expression, yennefer will be smiling - young and simple, bright and happy. if anyone was going to understand what this means for her, it would be him.
( and maybe that’s the real power of this meeting - that above all, through it all, it had been him she had thought about. the first person she could think to tell. who would understand, and who wouldn’t judge for just how bright this makes her feel. )
it has been just about ten months since she visited his horizon, the only place she could. but it has been longer still since he’s known. it felt right, somehow, that she would be able to bring him here. to show him in person.
how her magic is returning - not her chaos, exactly, but the rest of it. the magic she’s been learning. ]
Much more? [He answers with a faint surprise tracing the edges, hearing that she would really take him up on his invitation -- to visit Bleobheris without hesitation, to perhaps visit the room once again he made for her -- even after the poor thing nearly died because of him (and he would have never forgiven himself, watching chaos overtake the Seat of Friendship twice) --
It is rare Jaskier's words are so easily taken from him, but it is a pleased confusion that steals them now. Yennefer is not, one could say accurately, excitable. But here, he sees it. It lights her face, brings a smile that is not edged in delicious satisfaction, but genuine (dare he say it?) joy.
It is, he realizes, the girl he once saw in a Horizon dream. The girl who existed before Yennefer the Sorceress.
His sandpiper will not take it personally that he is so distracted by the vision in front of him (and this is before Yennefer even crafts the bird) that he forgets even to give his long-lost creation a greeting.
Then, she does it. She cups her hands gently in a way he has often done himself. Excitable, barely contained; a bright spring thunderstorm trapped in a bottle. And a bird, so much like his first, crafts itself from nothing, from smoke pulled without flame, dizzying and beautiful. Its song as light as rain on petals.
Perhaps he could blame it on the overwhelming amount of stress he has been under recently.
(Perhaps.)
Jaskier's eyes tear up as the bird takes flight, disappearing. He yanks her against him and embraces her, and there is a trembling of barely contained something in his body as he squeezes and squeezes and exclaims:] Your magic! Oh, Yennefer, I'm so fucking -- gods, I'm so fucking happy for you --
[Because he does understand. Even if his understanding, his experience, of chaos is juvenile to hers in comparison, he has had it long enough, embroiled himself in it, that he understands. He understands the gain of it, the loss of it. The healing.
[ Geralt has agreed to accompany Jaskier and hold his fucking pet. Considering the last attack, it isn't as though Jaskier hasn't got good reason. Besides, Geralt does not like to think himself a nosy man. If Jaskier has business with Yennefer, that's the bard's prerogative. He can play bodyguard. Leave the two of them to it. He's not asked about their relationship from the start, even if he knows, of course, about certain events that transpired; he's no plans on prying now. He'll wait outside.
And listen in. Which is through no fault of his own. That's simply his hearing range.
In either case, he is not eavesdropping (much) when he catches something about magic, and coming back. He pauses. The gryphon pushes a paw in his face. It can't be what he thinks is happening. Can it? Is she...?
With Jaskier's precious companion tucked under one arm, Geralt frowns, then pushes open the door. No announcement or apology. It just opens. Then he's standing there, eyeing Jaskier embracing Yennefer as though they were long lost friends.
How times have changed.
Geralt clears his throat, leaning one shoulder against the door frame. Yes. Hello. It is he, your local Witcher interrupting because he's assumes this is a conversation he should make known that he's, mm. Overheard. Incidentally. Seems significant. ]
[ she’s a bit distracted with it herself - it’s a strange feeling, to feel a little breathless, a little awestruck, in being able to see herself do something so small, so insignificant, compared to what she’d been capable of before. but at the same time, she can’t deny the way her chest tightens, just the slightest, at the view. she can’t deny the way her eyes still widen briefly, how her breath feels a bit caught - just for that moment, perhaps, but it is something.
if jaskier had waited any longer to react, yennefer may have had time to start thinking too hard about it. how ten months is hardly that long, how she is acting foolish, childish, but he doesn’t. instead, his reaction is genuine, yanking her to his chest, and what bursts from her is a kind of laugh. an almost giddy rush of air as her arms come around him too, squeeze him back. ]
It is! [ and she feels nearly weightless, a kind of wonder for this she hasn’t felt in years. decades. ] Now- [ she pulls out of the embrace so she can look at him, though that brightness is still there. ] It’s- gods, it’s less than even my first use of chaos, but-
[ that is when she notices two things at once- first, the tears in jaskier’s eyes, which immediately have her hands to his cheeks, her thumbs wiping the wetness away, opening her mouth to say something like are you crying? in an attempt to joke, but knowing her own eyes are damp.
and- the door opens.
the tension that shoots through her is visible, her fight or flight reflex mixed with an immense amount of fear. not again, not when jaskier is here, not-. the instinct is of course to fight, to step between jaskier and the door, to get them both away-
that is when she sees the figure in the door is geralt, and while the fear that had been shooting through her marginally dissipates, she also still finds herself freezing in place. because while if it were anyone who would come across them, it being geralt is still the…what? safest option? but at the same time she still isn’t exactly sure where they stand.
so, for now, yennefer has locked eyes with geralt and hasn’t really. moved. ]
[ It's only when he sees her, and she looks at him, that Geralt is struck with the fact that he's not seen her in person since their first trip into Nocwich. Briefly, at the Square, just before they parted for separate destinations. Things had been...tentative then, and it's changed a bit now, but their meetings in the Horizon were—
Planned. And this is not.
But this is different, because it is her loss of magic that's complicated matters. Not that it's all about her magic (as ever, it runs much deeper than that), but it is the crux that led them to where they are now—wounded, uncertain. He wants to believe she was not hiding this from him; he doesn't think she was, or else she'd not have told Jaskier. But he can feel questions surfacing about where, when, how her magic has returned. What exactly it means.
Nonetheless, Geralt does not like pretending, likes even less ignoring what should not be ignored. He's overheard, he's here at Jaskier's request, and so. She should know, and they can. Go from there.
Which means he's still waiting, watching her with a gaze that's careful, but also a little...hopeful. Like she'll say something that will tell him what small steps they've taken in their conversations tucked inside Jaskier's tree carry have carried over into the real world. Or maybe she will not, and they will find themselves exactly where they were months ago. Apart. He's no longer sure of anything these days, but the ground between them is at least solid enough that he can stand here in the first place, without so much of that painful ache that's followed them.
Jaskier will have to be the one to shatter the silence. ]
[And what if he is crying! He knows what this means. There is -- well, there is still fear for her, in Thorne where she will always be surrounded by enemies, but fuck, when are they not? But with magic, there is defense. There is safety. And yes, Yennefer is wildly wicked and sort of fucked up, when one really gets down to it, but at this moment in time, they have --
They have an understanding. A very deep one, he thinks. About the things they have seen. Endured. (And how he made a promise to himself he would never stand by again and let what happened at the Seat of Friendship happen again. If he could stop it.)
Jaskier jumps when the door opens, not because he expects it to be Geralt but because he expects it to not. Mog is quiet in his usual lackadaisical way, long having made himself comfortable in Geralt's warm (and large) arms. He looks over his shoulder to see that it is, indeed, only Geralt.
Looking like --]
Oh, fuck no. Fuck no. We're not doing this. Not now! [He grabs Geralt's arm and pulls on him, and then Yennefer, and maybe Mog makes a startled sound and looks at him with a glare, but he's ignoring Mog, too.] Listen here. This is good news, no matter how we feel about each other. So for once in your wretched, lovelorn lives, could you, perhaps, genuinely allow yourselves to be happy to see each other? I know you heard, Geralt, because you've never made a single effort in your life to not eavesdrop, and this. Is. Good. Her magic is returning, and -- gods, let her be happy about it.
And you. [He turns on Yennefer before she can even begin to speak,] had better keep telling me this good news, because I've recently died and I am not letting you withhold any drop of goodness from me when I need it very desperately. Or else I'm going to lose my mind and I will make sure you both suffer through it with me.
[ maybe that is why yennefer is caught so still - when their meetings had been planned, she had time to set herself in the way that felt safe. she was able to come to those discussions with guards in place, her feet settled on firm ground. here, with her genuine excitement with jaskier, she feels exposed, barren.
and she’s not certain is that is yet something she can share with geralt, too.
would he even consider this something good? if he still believes her more a liability, more a problem, her magic returning even in this smallest amount could be considered a threat.
( she doesn’t want that to be true — gods, it’s a selfish and young and naive part of her, but she wants to share this with him, too. )
jaskier is, of course, the first to break the stillness - his ever eloquent fuck no shaking yennefer free from it. and if it wasn’t that, it was his arm at her elbow, jerking her forward, closer to geralt than she’s been in…gods. months? longer? the thought startled her, realizing that even the last time she had seen geralt in person, last time they’d been in nocwich, there had been that distance. before that thought settles any further, jaskier continues to talk, all but demanding she keep talking, keep discussing her magic, rolling over the fact i recently died which immediately has her brows drawn tight before she remembers the last bit of issues from the singularity, and —
she can’t help but smile at his words, at his threat to make sure they both suffer for it, and yennefer shakes her head. surprisingly, she finds it easy to slip back into the earlier conversation, though her level of giddy has lessened. her eyes find geralt’s, just for a moment, before her attention is back entirely on jaskier. ] I only realized it days ago, the day I told you to meet me here. They are mostly illusions, some light wind manipulation, and certainly not chaos in the way we know it from the Continent. This is all Abraxan magics, though I am working to see what else will respond if I call Sometimes—
[ except that it is that moment that the creature in geralt’s arms decides he is very much done with being ignored, letting out an indignant cry of some kind and wriggling in geralt’s arms. it distracts yennefer completely, her eyes falling to the small, fluffy creature. ]
[ Doing—Geralt frowns deeply at Jaskier. He isn't doing anything, and part of him is immediately exasperated at his friend for assuming out of the gate. Which. Fair. He and Yennefer have not been on the best of terms since. Well. It needn't bear repeating.
If he were still as angry with her, he would not be here nor have accompanied Jaskier in the first place. He doesn't know how he feels, in truth. It's difficult to put it into words, the place he's found himself in these past few weeks. No longer angry, but not yet ready to forgive, either.
As ever, Geralt ignores Jaskier's gesticulating, his eyes fixed on Yennefer. At least, until the gryphon is brought up. He makes a noise that suggests he'd almost forgotten about the damn thing. It squawks, gnaws on his hair. He tugs it off and hands it over to Jaskier. ]
The bard's new obsession. [ He sits on the edge of a table against the wall—not quite inviting himself in, but close. He's quiet when he asks, ] Will you show me your magic?
[ It doesn't sound as if she expected it to return, and—yes. He supposes the genuine joy he'd heard, it makes him...he wants to see it, too. For himself. It's been awhile. Hasn't it? Since they've shared something so simple. He doesn't want to pick a fight. And he's never wanted to see Yennefer unhappy, no matter how hurt or upset with her. More than anything, he's always understood that it was too many years of pain and grief that brought her, them, to where they are now.
Perhaps what's been hard to swallow is that they've carried so much of it to each other in their desperate attempts to heal what was broken. ]
[It is just another day that Geralt ignores every one of Jaskier's carefully picked words, despite the torrent of them overflowing the room, and himself, and Geralt especially, to the point where Jaskier needs to take several breaths before he --
Right. Apparently they're all good now, or marginally so, and neither of them decided to tell him about it. Fantastic!
Jaskier takes Mog and holds him against his shoulder until the gryphon stops his whining.] A toy gryphon! I am not obsessed with him, thank you. He is my pet and my friend. And Geralt, you were holding him wrong! You have to support his back legs or he gets insecure!
[The gryphon chirps as if in agreement, which turns into a purr.] No, please, show us. I'd love to see more. I mean, it doesn't matter what form it takes, does it? Your chaos is still yours. We make of it what we have, what inspires us, like any artist.
[ yennefer follows as the creature is passed off from geralt to jaskier, amusement still light across her cheeks as she watches them. it feels...a bit domestic, doesn't it? watching them interact with this small creature. the bard's new obsession geralt says, and while yennefer wants to ask further, instead her eyes follow the witcher as he sits on the edge of the table. as he remains close. it's a good thing too, though, as she wonders if she would have caught his quiet voice when he asks to see her magic. yennefer recognizes her own surprise when he asks, and she hates just how much it settles in her. how strange this feels.
in the span of that moment, she almost doesn't remember the last time they had met for something that wasn't weighted. when they hadn't shared time that hadn't involved something heavy.
jaskier's voice catches her attention, and her eyes turn to him for a few moments instead, the hesitant smile that had almost tugged at her lips for the last few minutes brightening almost immediately, instinctually. ] Where did you find a toy gryphon?
[ but again, it is jaskier's voice that shakes her out of her own tension. his i'd love to see more is really all she needs. her eyes go back to geralt's for another moment before she nods, takes one step back, and moves one of her hands through the air. as it moves across the space in front of her, there is a small shower of sparks.
it is still so rudimentary, and she knows that, but her eyes follow the sparks all the same, that smile of her's also lingering. ]
No, it doesn't matter exactly. Drawing it out is similar enough, but there are limits in different ways than learning to control chaos. [ unintentionally, yennefer finds herself laughing a bit breathlessly, her attention shifting back to jaskier. with her other hand, she waves her fingers, and the air around them is filled - though gently - with a few notes of her sweet kiss, notes that her sandpiper picks up on once they fade back out, and he finishes off the next few himself. ]
[ Where indeed. With their rent money, he recalls dryly—back when coin had still been a point of concern, when they'd put off moving to a larger space for Jaskier's toy gryphon. Which he doesn't mind. It was good for the bard. After all that happened then, all that follows them a year later. Even if they don't speak of it much anymore, there are things Geralt continues to do, like keep candles safely tucked inside lanterns and lamps where the open flame isn't lying around.
He realizes he is staring at Yennefer. He glances away—a second or two—before his gaze drifts back towards her. You're whole again, he'd told her then, but the return of her magic at the time nearly cost too much. He's been afraid since she might strive to pay a similar price—from herself, from someone else. Because isn't that all they've ever known? How much it costs to keep what little you have of yourself? The blood that needs to be spilled?
This feels. Different. Perhaps it's that not every bit of her magic has been restored. Not even most of it. This is child's play. A shimmering mirage the Yennefer he knew would've scoffed at. And yet she looks as though she's discovered the most entrancing spell of her life.
Funny. He thinks he looked at her the same way once.
His eyes catch Jaskier's. He isn't sure what to say; they have not discussed Yennefer for some time. He's not been hiding their conversations, nor the fact that they have been speaking again in the first place. It's just—there's no easy way to explain what lies between them. Late nights, a bitterness creeps over him still. Other times, he feels the distance between them with a painful intensity.
And then there is now, where he cannot decide if he should let himself have the moment for what it is, or keep his guard up for when it will inevitably shatter again.
Just the same, he can't help turning his palm over as the small shower of sparks falls. One illusory dot of light bounces off his hand. ] When did this happen?
They're a domestic pet in the Free Cities. A descendant of some gryphons from the mountains, I believe. But they stay small. Isn't he the most adorable thing?
[In true cat lady fashion, Jaskier will temporarily put aside important conversations to coo at the little gryphon, who looks absolutely blissful to be in Jaskier's arms, knowing how spoiled he is. Which is why Jaskier even brings him on these trips in the first place. He's well-behaved. Even if he bites Geralt's hair sometimes.
Jaskier does not retell the events that let to his purchase in the first place. He doesn't wish to revisit such things.
Carefully, he tucks Mog into his arms, giving Yennefer a little room. Despite Mog's adorable everything, including his paws with their small, soft beans, he does very much want to see this.
It is beautiful. A simple illusionary magic that reminds Jaskier of his first. And though he has the same thought as Geralt -- that the old Yennefer he knew would've barked a laugh at such a display -- that now she looks... not happy. God knows he's never seen these miserable souls truly, blissfully happy. But there is hope.
And with it making his music through the air, and his sandpiper playing the notes -- he's left laughing, with Mog paying at his coat (perhaps he recognizes the song, too.)]
That wasn't about you, obviously. I was -- I had many fiery lovers at the time, I'll have you know. [He sets Mog down carefully, letting him find his way to a chair. One can never trust Geralt to be encouraging.] Oh, Yennefer, this is wonderful. Truly.
[ perhaps it is a bit selfish of her; knowing that jaskier would probably talk about that gryphon for hours, and that it might even be a more even ground conversation for them to have, but feeling herself pulled back towards this instead. the shower of sparks, the few notes played through the air. because she does want to share this - this excitement, this moment of levity - with them.
( because she is sharing it with geralt, now that he's here. her intention may have just been for jaskier - for her to steal away some of that brightness for herself for just a few moments - geralt's presence doesn't take that away from her. )
and yes, she does still feel it - a tension, where there wouldn't have been one months ago before everything changed. but it is not enough of one to push her away. not for now. so she will show off her small display, her eyes following the sparks as they fall and bounce off of geralt's hand. at his question, she shakes her head. ]
I don't know exactly when, but I noticed it first just a few days ago. I've been... working with Istredd on a few things, wards and illusions that might be needed now that the ones we've been depending on may fade. We were ah- discussing, and without realizing it the candle nearly exploded on the table. Since then I've been working to figure out exactly what it is I'm able to call on, and like I said- it is limited, but.
[ it's something. something that she hasn't had for months.
at the sound of jaskier's laugh, yennefer's brows do arch, her lips pressed together as she nods, very clearly not at all believing him. at all. but he puts up a good effort, at least. ]
It is catchy. The bards haven't quite let go of it at the castle.
[ Uh-huh. Geralt knows full well who the song was meant for, and there's a glance in Jaskier's direction that says as much. Jaskier's never been shy about singing his...emotions. (He learned that well over the past year.)
A few days ago. What changed? He doesn't mean for his mind to jump immediately to circumstances. It's instinct, that's all. But he doesn't ask the question out loud, even if the knit of his brow marks how he's puzzling it over in his mind. Jaskier is cheered, and the truth is, Geralt is...lighter. To hear some good fucking news for once. Perhaps it feels a bit as though they are moving on. Putting behind them the hurt, the ghosts they once tried to chase.
His lips lift for the briefest moment at the corner. Discussing. He can imagine what sort of discussion if a candle erupted. ]
It's a good sign.
[ It is. He means that, even if it's spoken softly, subdued. Perhaps that's all there is to it. No catch, no struggle. Just magic, flowing back in its own time, because that's where it belongs. ]
[It does feel a bit, at least to Jaskier, as if he and Yennefer are both waiting for Geralt to have some kind of -- not answer, necessarily, but a reaction. No. Not even that. An acknowledgement. It is small, minuscule even, because it's Geralt, but honestly... even that is more than he would expect from a man who no longer trusts Yennefer.
At least he didn't, once. Jaskier can only guess where they are now, considering neither has mentioned their secret rendezvous. They could not have only been wild rounds of sex. Something more is here.]
It is. A fantastic one. And how does it matter where it came from, or what form? It will erupt as mine own did. As yours did, I bet, in the beginning. [He takes her hand, and kisses the back of it, as if she were a fine noblewoman he once met at a dance.] Perhaps you had your own mental block, ah. Removed. Forcibly.
[Pegged out of her, in a way. And you know what? Good for her.]
[ yennefer still isn't sure if that is what she was looking for, but the words do work - a good sign, he says, and she feels some level of tension leave her shoulders. it's almost enough to have caught the slight lift of his lips, the joke that he caught on to. she doesn't know what any of this means, but a part of her thinks that's okay for now. that perhaps this doesn't have to mean anything, other than a relief. a new start.
and of course there is jaskier, slipping in with a fantastic one, and yennefer is no longer burdened with the weight of it. it's a curious thing, how quickly jaskier's worked his way into that space with her - but again, she's not going to think too hard on it. it doesn't have to mean anything.
so as his lips brush the back of her hand, yennefer simply smiles, though it turns into more of a smirk near the end of that. ] Are you jealous, dear husband? [ and before he can answer, she huffs a laugh. ] No, not like that. But I do think something has been shifted, whether it's the Singularity or my connection to it or possibly something else entirely. Honestly, it could be the sap from Ikorr, or- [ there is the briefest pause where yennefer thinks back on anything that might have triggered this, events or mentions or even new potions she's been working with. briefly, she thinks back to when her horizon connection was restored. to geralt and ciri and the fire in her dream. something in her chest clicks at that, but she only glances to geralt once before her eyes are back on jaskier, her smile returned. ]
No, any forceful removal has been yours and yours alone. Now- [ she slips from his hand, then, turning back to the table and grabbing the bottle of liquor and pouring three glasses. ] I do have this room for the rest of the evening, and another bottle that I'm not taking back to the inn with me. But that was all I wanted to share.
Jealous, she says! My dear wife? How on earth would I be jealous? [He thinks of biting her hand just to leave a bit of a point, but he's already risen and a true gentleman loses his opportunity for teeth when he no longer has the maiden's hand -- and she's fully dressed still.
He huffs at the mention of his own forceful removal. (It's not as if he thinks of it often or anything.)]
Ikorr's sap, you said? [He's already sliding into a chair, the invitation accepted without pause, after he's pulled Geralt in to join them.] Your gift from our delegations? If it is something from Nocwich, I would not be so surprised. We received trade from the Lunae as well, and it is an ore with a surprising innate magic. [He pushes his glass forward.] Be heavy-handed, dear wife, and I'll reimburse you if I must. We sorely need good drink and better company. [He gives a meaningful glance to Geralt.] Don't escape quite yet.
[ Geralt does, in fact, consider escaping. For all that things have shifted, a little, it is not enough. He is not in the same easy place with Yennefer as he is with Jaskier. As she is with Jaskier. And he understands that Jaskier forgives easily; it is one of the reasons he...considers Jaskier so important to him. Important to have, while he and Yennefer have been apart.
But it feels as though nothing has changed with Jaskier and Yennefer, how they are, when everything has changed with him.
(It makes him wish for things to be as they once were. They are not, never will be, and he hates how much being around Yennefer causes him to look back, to have wishes that he knows he should not.)
She pulls out three glasses. When Jaskier looks at him, Geralt only returns the gaze. He accepts the glass. ]
Because you are the jealous type. [ she supplies quickly in response, her smile lingering, assuming that he will react in some way - bite her hand, tug her closer, stick out his tongue...you know, all the very mature and very gentlemanly things that jaskier would be one to do.
she nods, pouring the drink into the glass he pushes towards her, about to end her pour right as he says be heavy-handed, dear wife and her brows do lift.
a part of her wonders what the story could be behind all of that, her look just as questioning as it moves from him to geralt once again, and she does find herself pausing - waiting to see if he will accept the glass. because she knows that this hasn't fixed anything, that the distance that remains between them remains even still - but jaskier gives him a meaningful glance and yennefer...
she doesn't want to feel the tightness in her chest. hates that in that moment, she feels her breath still, at least until geralt does move to accept the glass. once he does, all she feel is a sudden embarrassment at the fact that single moment had taken away her focus so entirely, and she's turned back to jaskier again. ]
It took some digging, but yes. Ikorr's sap has provided us with a wholly new way of...I guess you'd call it healing. Restorative. It works for food sources, wards, even physical ailments.
[ as she's talking she finishes pouring jaskier's glass - a heavy, significant pour - and then moves on to fill geralt's glass. once done, she will fill hers much like she did jaskier's and move to settle into a chair closer to him. ]
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It is a very good thing he enjoys Nocwich. Though he has yet to spy Sten again, it would have felt, even for him, a little overbearing to request some sort of... escort.
Though it is good enough, he thinks, to have Geralt with him; not only because he is more than a force to be reckoned with, but because Jaskier feels no guilt in lifting the bag Mog is currently curled into and putting it in Geralt's hands.] Be nice to him, all right? I don't want your presence distracting her.
[Whether he's talking to Geralt or the gryphon remains a mystery.
Geralt remains outside the room as Jaskier walks inside, closing the door behind him for the illusion of privacy (he does not doubt Geralt can hear through the door.) Though he held more than mild feelings of trepidation in even traveling again (as he does outside Cadens at all now,) Jaskier visibly brightens, straightening up, to see Yennefer -- for what feels like years -- physically here, in the flesh. He's already reaching for her hands without thinking of it.] I know you did not only invite me for wining and dining, but I certainly can't complain if you did. It must be good news, mustn't it?
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for now, she makes her arrangements. she does what she can to make this meeting secretive, and then pushes away whatever worries she might have otherwise, because what boils over inside of her is enough to keep her going.
jaskier steps through and closes the doors behind him, and yennefer nearly bounces on her feet, meeting him halfway as he starts towards her. her sandpiper twitters happily, but whether that’s a reaction to yennefer’s own bright smile, or at jaskier’s presence, it’s hard to tell. when they meet, jaskier’s hands go for her own, and yennefer wastes no time in taking hold of his. in squeezing them, once, as she tugs him with her as she takes a few more steps back, bringing them to the center of the room. ]
If I simply wanted food and wine, I would make use of your cellar. No, this is more than that. Much more. I- [ gods, it’s good to see him - part of her almost forgets it. how different it feels to have him here, flesh and blood, rather than whatever image they want to see. for a brief moment it’s almost too much, having the chance to reach across and grab his face if she wanted to, to not worry for at least these moments about presentations, or factions, or anything else.
she shakes her head, squeezing his hands once more, arguably a bit too tightly as she speaks. her words are quick, not quite stumbling over themselves, but close, the same sort of barely contained energy that seems to be vibrating through her. ]
No, this you have to see in person. It’s- it’s something I was just able to- just. Watch.
[ she lets go of his hands, then, but does not go far - instead cupping her hands together between them. she closes her eyes for a moment, concentrating, and when she opens her hands a second or so after, between them is a miniature version (about the size of a mouse) of her sandpiper made from what appears to be smoke and air. it hops across her palms and opens its beak, a few notes of melody releasing from it, before it takes flight and, as soon as it leaves her hands, the smoke dissipates into air once again. ]
It is only an illusion, but- [ her voice is a bit softer, though that buoyancy is still there. and when jaskier turns back to see her expression, yennefer will be smiling - young and simple, bright and happy. if anyone was going to understand what this means for her, it would be him.
( and maybe that’s the real power of this meeting - that above all, through it all, it had been him she had thought about. the first person she could think to tell. who would understand, and who wouldn’t judge for just how bright this makes her feel. )
it has been just about ten months since she visited his horizon, the only place she could. but it has been longer still since he’s known. it felt right, somehow, that she would be able to bring him here. to show him in person.
how her magic is returning - not her chaos, exactly, but the rest of it. the magic she’s been learning. ]
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It is rare Jaskier's words are so easily taken from him, but it is a pleased confusion that steals them now. Yennefer is not, one could say accurately, excitable. But here, he sees it. It lights her face, brings a smile that is not edged in delicious satisfaction, but genuine (dare he say it?) joy.
It is, he realizes, the girl he once saw in a Horizon dream. The girl who existed before Yennefer the Sorceress.
His sandpiper will not take it personally that he is so distracted by the vision in front of him (and this is before Yennefer even crafts the bird) that he forgets even to give his long-lost creation a greeting.
Then, she does it. She cups her hands gently in a way he has often done himself. Excitable, barely contained; a bright spring thunderstorm trapped in a bottle. And a bird, so much like his first, crafts itself from nothing, from smoke pulled without flame, dizzying and beautiful. Its song as light as rain on petals.
Perhaps he could blame it on the overwhelming amount of stress he has been under recently.
(Perhaps.)
Jaskier's eyes tear up as the bird takes flight, disappearing. He yanks her against him and embraces her, and there is a trembling of barely contained something in his body as he squeezes and squeezes and exclaims:] Your magic! Oh, Yennefer, I'm so fucking -- gods, I'm so fucking happy for you --
[Because he does understand. Even if his understanding, his experience, of chaos is juvenile to hers in comparison, he has had it long enough, embroiled himself in it, that he understands. He understands the gain of it, the loss of it. The healing.
She is healing.] It's coming back!
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And listen in. Which is through no fault of his own. That's simply his hearing range.
In either case, he is not eavesdropping (much) when he catches something about magic, and coming back. He pauses. The gryphon pushes a paw in his face. It can't be what he thinks is happening. Can it? Is she...?
With Jaskier's precious companion tucked under one arm, Geralt frowns, then pushes open the door. No announcement or apology. It just opens. Then he's standing there, eyeing Jaskier embracing Yennefer as though they were long lost friends.
How times have changed.
Geralt clears his throat, leaning one shoulder against the door frame. Yes. Hello. It is he, your local Witcher interrupting because he's assumes this is a conversation he should make known that he's, mm. Overheard. Incidentally. Seems significant. ]
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if jaskier had waited any longer to react, yennefer may have had time to start thinking too hard about it. how ten months is hardly that long, how she is acting foolish, childish, but he doesn’t. instead, his reaction is genuine, yanking her to his chest, and what bursts from her is a kind of laugh. an almost giddy rush of air as her arms come around him too, squeeze him back. ]
It is! [ and she feels nearly weightless, a kind of wonder for this she hasn’t felt in years. decades. ] Now- [ she pulls out of the embrace so she can look at him, though that brightness is still there. ] It’s- gods, it’s less than even my first use of chaos, but-
[ that is when she notices two things at once- first, the tears in jaskier’s eyes, which immediately have her hands to his cheeks, her thumbs wiping the wetness away, opening her mouth to say something like are you crying? in an attempt to joke, but knowing her own eyes are damp.
and- the door opens.
the tension that shoots through her is visible, her fight or flight reflex mixed with an immense amount of fear. not again, not when jaskier is here, not-. the instinct is of course to fight, to step between jaskier and the door, to get them both away-
that is when she sees the figure in the door is geralt, and while the fear that had been shooting through her marginally dissipates, she also still finds herself freezing in place. because while if it were anyone who would come across them, it being geralt is still the…what? safest option? but at the same time she still isn’t exactly sure where they stand.
so, for now, yennefer has locked eyes with geralt and hasn’t really. moved. ]
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Planned. And this is not.
But this is different, because it is her loss of magic that's complicated matters. Not that it's all about her magic (as ever, it runs much deeper than that), but it is the crux that led them to where they are now—wounded, uncertain. He wants to believe she was not hiding this from him; he doesn't think she was, or else she'd not have told Jaskier. But he can feel questions surfacing about where, when, how her magic has returned. What exactly it means.
Nonetheless, Geralt does not like pretending, likes even less ignoring what should not be ignored. He's overheard, he's here at Jaskier's request, and so. She should know, and they can. Go from there.
Which means he's still waiting, watching her with a gaze that's careful, but also a little...hopeful. Like she'll say something that will tell him what small steps they've taken in their conversations tucked inside Jaskier's tree carry have carried over into the real world. Or maybe she will not, and they will find themselves exactly where they were months ago. Apart. He's no longer sure of anything these days, but the ground between them is at least solid enough that he can stand here in the first place, without so much of that painful ache that's followed them.
Jaskier will have to be the one to shatter the silence. ]
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They have an understanding. A very deep one, he thinks. About the things they have seen. Endured. (And how he made a promise to himself he would never stand by again and let what happened at the Seat of Friendship happen again. If he could stop it.)
Jaskier jumps when the door opens, not because he expects it to be Geralt but because he expects it to not. Mog is quiet in his usual lackadaisical way, long having made himself comfortable in Geralt's warm (and large) arms. He looks over his shoulder to see that it is, indeed, only Geralt.
Looking like --]
Oh, fuck no. Fuck no. We're not doing this. Not now! [He grabs Geralt's arm and pulls on him, and then Yennefer, and maybe Mog makes a startled sound and looks at him with a glare, but he's ignoring Mog, too.] Listen here. This is good news, no matter how we feel about each other. So for once in your wretched, lovelorn lives, could you, perhaps, genuinely allow yourselves to be happy to see each other? I know you heard, Geralt, because you've never made a single effort in your life to not eavesdrop, and this. Is. Good. Her magic is returning, and -- gods, let her be happy about it.
And you. [He turns on Yennefer before she can even begin to speak,] had better keep telling me this good news, because I've recently died and I am not letting you withhold any drop of goodness from me when I need it very desperately. Or else I'm going to lose my mind and I will make sure you both suffer through it with me.
[There. He's fixed it, for sure.]
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and she’s not certain is that is yet something she can share with geralt, too.
would he even consider this something good? if he still believes her more a liability, more a problem, her magic returning even in this smallest amount could be considered a threat.
( she doesn’t want that to be true — gods, it’s a selfish and young and naive part of her, but she wants to share this with him, too. )
jaskier is, of course, the first to break the stillness - his ever eloquent fuck no shaking yennefer free from it. and if it wasn’t that, it was his arm at her elbow, jerking her forward, closer to geralt than she’s been in…gods. months? longer? the thought startled her, realizing that even the last time she had seen geralt in person, last time they’d been in nocwich, there had been that distance. before that thought settles any further, jaskier continues to talk, all but demanding she keep talking, keep discussing her magic, rolling over the fact i recently died which immediately has her brows drawn tight before she remembers the last bit of issues from the singularity, and —
she can’t help but smile at his words, at his threat to make sure they both suffer for it, and yennefer shakes her head. surprisingly, she finds it easy to slip back into the earlier conversation, though her level of giddy has lessened. her eyes find geralt’s, just for a moment, before her attention is back entirely on jaskier. ] I only realized it days ago, the day I told you to meet me here. They are mostly illusions, some light wind manipulation, and certainly not chaos in the way we know it from the Continent. This is all Abraxan magics, though I am working to see what else will respond if I call Sometimes—
[ except that it is that moment that the creature in geralt’s arms decides he is very much done with being ignored, letting out an indignant cry of some kind and wriggling in geralt’s arms. it distracts yennefer completely, her eyes falling to the small, fluffy creature. ]
Is that…a gryphon?
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If he were still as angry with her, he would not be here nor have accompanied Jaskier in the first place. He doesn't know how he feels, in truth. It's difficult to put it into words, the place he's found himself in these past few weeks. No longer angry, but not yet ready to forgive, either.
As ever, Geralt ignores Jaskier's gesticulating, his eyes fixed on Yennefer. At least, until the gryphon is brought up. He makes a noise that suggests he'd almost forgotten about the damn thing. It squawks, gnaws on his hair. He tugs it off and hands it over to Jaskier. ]
The bard's new obsession. [ He sits on the edge of a table against the wall—not quite inviting himself in, but close. He's quiet when he asks, ] Will you show me your magic?
[ It doesn't sound as if she expected it to return, and—yes. He supposes the genuine joy he'd heard, it makes him...he wants to see it, too. For himself. It's been awhile. Hasn't it? Since they've shared something so simple. He doesn't want to pick a fight. And he's never wanted to see Yennefer unhappy, no matter how hurt or upset with her. More than anything, he's always understood that it was too many years of pain and grief that brought her, them, to where they are now.
Perhaps what's been hard to swallow is that they've carried so much of it to each other in their desperate attempts to heal what was broken. ]
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Right. Apparently they're all good now, or marginally so, and neither of them decided to tell him about it. Fantastic!
Jaskier takes Mog and holds him against his shoulder until the gryphon stops his whining.] A toy gryphon! I am not obsessed with him, thank you. He is my pet and my friend. And Geralt, you were holding him wrong! You have to support his back legs or he gets insecure!
[The gryphon chirps as if in agreement, which turns into a purr.] No, please, show us. I'd love to see more. I mean, it doesn't matter what form it takes, does it? Your chaos is still yours. We make of it what we have, what inspires us, like any artist.
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in the span of that moment, she almost doesn't remember the last time they had met for something that wasn't weighted. when they hadn't shared time that hadn't involved something heavy.
jaskier's voice catches her attention, and her eyes turn to him for a few moments instead, the hesitant smile that had almost tugged at her lips for the last few minutes brightening almost immediately, instinctually. ] Where did you find a toy gryphon?
[ but again, it is jaskier's voice that shakes her out of her own tension. his i'd love to see more is really all she needs. her eyes go back to geralt's for another moment before she nods, takes one step back, and moves one of her hands through the air. as it moves across the space in front of her, there is a small shower of sparks.
it is still so rudimentary, and she knows that, but her eyes follow the sparks all the same, that smile of her's also lingering. ]
No, it doesn't matter exactly. Drawing it out is similar enough, but there are limits in different ways than learning to control chaos. [ unintentionally, yennefer finds herself laughing a bit breathlessly, her attention shifting back to jaskier. with her other hand, she waves her fingers, and the air around them is filled - though gently - with a few notes of her sweet kiss, notes that her sandpiper picks up on once they fade back out, and he finishes off the next few himself. ]
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He realizes he is staring at Yennefer. He glances away—a second or two—before his gaze drifts back towards her. You're whole again, he'd told her then, but the return of her magic at the time nearly cost too much. He's been afraid since she might strive to pay a similar price—from herself, from someone else. Because isn't that all they've ever known? How much it costs to keep what little you have of yourself? The blood that needs to be spilled?
This feels. Different. Perhaps it's that not every bit of her magic has been restored. Not even most of it. This is child's play. A shimmering mirage the Yennefer he knew would've scoffed at. And yet she looks as though she's discovered the most entrancing spell of her life.
Funny. He thinks he looked at her the same way once.
His eyes catch Jaskier's. He isn't sure what to say; they have not discussed Yennefer for some time. He's not been hiding their conversations, nor the fact that they have been speaking again in the first place. It's just—there's no easy way to explain what lies between them. Late nights, a bitterness creeps over him still. Other times, he feels the distance between them with a painful intensity.
And then there is now, where he cannot decide if he should let himself have the moment for what it is, or keep his guard up for when it will inevitably shatter again.
Just the same, he can't help turning his palm over as the small shower of sparks falls. One illusory dot of light bounces off his hand. ] When did this happen?
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[In true cat lady fashion, Jaskier will temporarily put aside important conversations to coo at the little gryphon, who looks absolutely blissful to be in Jaskier's arms, knowing how spoiled he is. Which is why Jaskier even brings him on these trips in the first place. He's well-behaved. Even if he bites Geralt's hair sometimes.
Jaskier does not retell the events that let to his purchase in the first place. He doesn't wish to revisit such things.
Carefully, he tucks Mog into his arms, giving Yennefer a little room. Despite Mog's adorable everything, including his paws with their small, soft beans, he does very much want to see this.
It is beautiful. A simple illusionary magic that reminds Jaskier of his first. And though he has the same thought as Geralt -- that the old Yennefer he knew would've barked a laugh at such a display -- that now she looks... not happy. God knows he's never seen these miserable souls truly, blissfully happy. But there is hope.
And with it making his music through the air, and his sandpiper playing the notes -- he's left laughing, with Mog paying at his coat (perhaps he recognizes the song, too.)]
That wasn't about you, obviously. I was -- I had many fiery lovers at the time, I'll have you know. [He sets Mog down carefully, letting him find his way to a chair. One can never trust Geralt to be encouraging.] Oh, Yennefer, this is wonderful. Truly.
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( because she is sharing it with geralt, now that he's here. her intention may have just been for jaskier - for her to steal away some of that brightness for herself for just a few moments - geralt's presence doesn't take that away from her. )
and yes, she does still feel it - a tension, where there wouldn't have been one months ago before everything changed. but it is not enough of one to push her away. not for now. so she will show off her small display, her eyes following the sparks as they fall and bounce off of geralt's hand. at his question, she shakes her head. ]
I don't know exactly when, but I noticed it first just a few days ago. I've been... working with Istredd on a few things, wards and illusions that might be needed now that the ones we've been depending on may fade. We were ah- discussing, and without realizing it the candle nearly exploded on the table. Since then I've been working to figure out exactly what it is I'm able to call on, and like I said- it is limited, but.
[ it's something. something that she hasn't had for months.
at the sound of jaskier's laugh, yennefer's brows do arch, her lips pressed together as she nods, very clearly not at all believing him. at all. but he puts up a good effort, at least. ]
It is catchy. The bards haven't quite let go of it at the castle.
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A few days ago. What changed? He doesn't mean for his mind to jump immediately to circumstances. It's instinct, that's all. But he doesn't ask the question out loud, even if the knit of his brow marks how he's puzzling it over in his mind. Jaskier is cheered, and the truth is, Geralt is...lighter. To hear some good fucking news for once. Perhaps it feels a bit as though they are moving on. Putting behind them the hurt, the ghosts they once tried to chase.
His lips lift for the briefest moment at the corner. Discussing. He can imagine what sort of discussion if a candle erupted. ]
It's a good sign.
[ It is. He means that, even if it's spoken softly, subdued. Perhaps that's all there is to it. No catch, no struggle. Just magic, flowing back in its own time, because that's where it belongs. ]
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At least he didn't, once. Jaskier can only guess where they are now, considering neither has mentioned their secret rendezvous. They could not have only been wild rounds of sex. Something more is here.]
It is. A fantastic one. And how does it matter where it came from, or what form? It will erupt as mine own did. As yours did, I bet, in the beginning. [He takes her hand, and kisses the back of it, as if she were a fine noblewoman he once met at a dance.] Perhaps you had your own mental block, ah. Removed. Forcibly.
[Pegged out of her, in a way. And you know what? Good for her.]
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and of course there is jaskier, slipping in with a fantastic one, and yennefer is no longer burdened with the weight of it. it's a curious thing, how quickly jaskier's worked his way into that space with her - but again, she's not going to think too hard on it. it doesn't have to mean anything.
so as his lips brush the back of her hand, yennefer simply smiles, though it turns into more of a smirk near the end of that. ] Are you jealous, dear husband? [ and before he can answer, she huffs a laugh. ] No, not like that. But I do think something has been shifted, whether it's the Singularity or my connection to it or possibly something else entirely. Honestly, it could be the sap from Ikorr, or- [ there is the briefest pause where yennefer thinks back on anything that might have triggered this, events or mentions or even new potions she's been working with. briefly, she thinks back to when her horizon connection was restored. to geralt and ciri and the fire in her dream. something in her chest clicks at that, but she only glances to geralt once before her eyes are back on jaskier, her smile returned. ]
No, any forceful removal has been yours and yours alone. Now- [ she slips from his hand, then, turning back to the table and grabbing the bottle of liquor and pouring three glasses. ] I do have this room for the rest of the evening, and another bottle that I'm not taking back to the inn with me. But that was all I wanted to share.
skipping with permission!
He huffs at the mention of his own forceful removal. (It's not as if he thinks of it often or anything.)]
Ikorr's sap, you said? [He's already sliding into a chair, the invitation accepted without pause, after he's pulled Geralt in to join them.] Your gift from our delegations? If it is something from Nocwich, I would not be so surprised. We received trade from the Lunae as well, and it is an ore with a surprising innate magic. [He pushes his glass forward.] Be heavy-handed, dear wife, and I'll reimburse you if I must. We sorely need good drink and better company. [He gives a meaningful glance to Geralt.] Don't escape quite yet.
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But it feels as though nothing has changed with Jaskier and Yennefer, how they are, when everything has changed with him.
(It makes him wish for things to be as they once were. They are not, never will be, and he hates how much being around Yennefer causes him to look back, to have wishes that he knows he should not.)
She pulls out three glasses. When Jaskier looks at him, Geralt only returns the gaze. He accepts the glass. ]
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she nods, pouring the drink into the glass he pushes towards her, about to end her pour right as he says be heavy-handed, dear wife and her brows do lift.
a part of her wonders what the story could be behind all of that, her look just as questioning as it moves from him to geralt once again, and she does find herself pausing - waiting to see if he will accept the glass. because she knows that this hasn't fixed anything, that the distance that remains between them remains even still - but jaskier gives him a meaningful glance and yennefer...
she doesn't want to feel the tightness in her chest. hates that in that moment, she feels her breath still, at least until geralt does move to accept the glass. once he does, all she feel is a sudden embarrassment at the fact that single moment had taken away her focus so entirely, and she's turned back to jaskier again. ]
It took some digging, but yes. Ikorr's sap has provided us with a wholly new way of...I guess you'd call it healing. Restorative. It works for food sources, wards, even physical ailments.
[ as she's talking she finishes pouring jaskier's glass - a heavy, significant pour - and then moves on to fill geralt's glass. once done, she will fill hers much like she did jaskier's and move to settle into a chair closer to him. ]