Chapter Text
Yennefer stops at a merchant's table, admiring a bracelet he has displayed on his dark red velvet cloth. She picks it up and drapes it over her wrist. The chain is thin, delicate, with three tasteful sapphires strung at intervals.
"Would you like to try it on?" The Merchant asks, giving her a smile laden with intent. She looks down at the bracelet and shakes her head.
"No. It would be for a gift, so there's little point in seeing how it looks on me."
He tuts. "People should be buying you such gifts, not the other way around."
She gives him a tight smile and holds out the bracelet, no longer charmed by it. "I'll leave it." She moves on, letting her fingers drift over fine silks at the next stall.
An opportunity had arisen for a short visit to Beauclair as a diplomatic envoy. Yennefer had offered to take it, and had persuaded Tissaia to accompany her for a few days of peace. After Tissaia's long recovery from the ravages of Sodden, Yennefer was insistent that they both deserved a little time to do nothing. She persuaded Triss to back her up with some comment on how the warm air would help Tissaia's lungs. Which she assumes is true, as Triss would not give inaccurate medical advice.
Tissaia eventually agreed to the trip, and they have passed a day and a half doing very little except eating, walking and spending time in bed. She smiles as she thinks of how she left Tissaia; gloriously naked and snoring gently after their early morning activities. It's still such a thrill being allowed to see Tissaia unguarded and vulnerable. She hopes she never tires of it.
The next stall offers up a vast range of massage oils, promising everything from increased libido to a cure for baldness. She's sniffing a particularly potent vial when she hears a familiar, and not totally welcome, voice from behind her.
"Yennefer of Vengerberg! As I live and breathe!"
She wrinkles her nose and turns. Sure enough, he's there in some ludicrous turquoise and purple outfit. She nods. "Jaskier." Her eyes flit around the marketplace, wondering if he's alone.
"I heard about Sodden," he says, coming closer. "Bards across the Continent are falling over themselves to write songs about your exploits." He winces. "I mean, I can't be sure the accounts are accurate of course, since you incinerated most of the actual witnesses."
She tries not to wince at the careless way he throws those words around, as if she doesn't still hear the screams at night and wake with the smell of burning flesh in her nostrils. She lifts her chin and regards him.
"Well, you know how Bards like to exaggerate," she says, though she can't deny she's a little curious to hear these songs.
His eyebrows shoot up. "Listen, it would do wonders for my reputation if I happened to get an account of the battle from the horse's mouth, so to speak." He's rummaging in his satchel, presumably for a quill and parchment. He comes up empty handed and shrugs. "Just tell me and I'll remember it and write it down later."
"Another time, perhaps." She lifts her eyebrows. "And you? How's life treating you? Still following Geralt around like a stray puppy?"
He smiles. Like he knows something she doesn't. "For your information, we are practically co-parents to a delightful young lady."
That hits harder than she expected, but she keeps her face indifferent, turning back to peruse the oils once more as she continues to speak. "He finally went and picked up his Child Surprise then?"
"Indeed." He purses his lips. "Well, she found him, really. It's a long story." He continues before she can respond. "And, before you ask, no he's not with anyone at the moment. Not that I'm sure he's ever with anyone, because he's always thinking about you."
Yennefer pauses. She hadn't been thinking of asking that. She hadn't been thinking of it at all. "It's of no consequence to me. He can bed half the Continent if it pleases him." Yen shrugs. "And I am with someone. Someone who didn't manipulate my feelings using a wish."
"Oh!" Jaskier's eyes go wide. When she doesn't continue, he shakes his head. "Come on, Yennefer, you can't just leave it at that. I need details. What's his name? What does he look like? When did you meet him?"
She hides a smile. "I met her a good few decades ago now."
"Her? Gods above is no one safe from your clutches?" He rolls his eyes. "Go on, then. Who's the poor unfortunate wench that's ended up saddled with you?"
"Tissaia De Vries," Yen says, warmth spreading through her chest, just from saying her name.
His brow creases. "Tissaia de Vries? Isn't she the Rectoress of Aretuza?"
"Yes, she is," Yennefer confirms, not keen on his tone. "What of it?"
"So you're fuck-" Yennefer widens her eyes in warning and he holds up his hands. "I mean, that is to say, making sweet lady love to your old teacher?"
"That's not-" She presses her lips together at his description of their relationship. How dare he presume to know her. "That's not what it is. It's more. Much more."
"Oh," Jaskier says, drawing out the word and pressing a fist to his mouth. "Are we to believe that Yennefer of Vengerberg is...in love?"
She swallows, annoyed that he has her on the back foot; she should never have allowed him to question her. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Very much so."
Jaskier tilts his head and smirks. "And does your lady know she's just a placeholder until destiny catapults you back into Geralt's bed?"
A chill settles at the pit of her stomach, even as she outwardly scoffs. "Please." She rolls her eyes. "I loved her before I knew what the word meant. I loved her before I knew Geralt existed. And I'll love her long after I've forgotten all about him."
"Well, well." He lifts his eyebrows. "Aren't we a brave little witch? Spitting in destiny's face?" Before she can comment, he carries on. "But, if you're so certain all is well, then you should join Geralt and I for dinner. He's due to arrive tomorrow around noon and I'm sure he'd be delighted to see you."
"I'm not sure Geralt's ever been delighted in his life," Yennefer comments. "Fine. Dinner tomorrow night, then. We're staying in a little tavern by the river." She nods in the direction of it. "The food is simple, but hearty. We'll meet you there."
"Oh, you most definitely shall," Jaskier says. "And I can't wait to meet the woman who has, apparently, won your heart."
"There's no 'apparently' about it, Jaskier," Yennefer tells him. "And she doesn't suffer fools gladly. So, take from that what you will." She nods. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She doesn't wait for his answer, and turns to leave, regretting this hasty decision more by the second.
Arriving back at their lodgings, Yennefer looks at the bunch of wildflowers grasped in her hand. She'd seen them growing by the path on her way back and, on a whim, picked them for Tissaia. They now feel like a poor attempt at distraction, and she sighs, but keeps hold of them as she enters their room. Tissaia looks up from a book she's reading, settled in an oversized armchair. Yennefer's heart seizes at how small it makes her look. She has started to regain the weight she lost during her recovery from the dimeritium poisoning, but she's still too thin. Sometimes Yennefer will catch an angle of her hipbones protruding just that bit too much and be reminded of her gaunt, almost skeletal appearance as she fought the poison.
Tissaia sets the book aside and rises with a smile. "You were gone a while. You should have woken me and I'd have come with you," she comments, her eyes dropping to the flowers. She lifts an eyebrow. "Are these for me?"
"Yes," Yennefer thrusts them forward, like an awkward youngster with a crush.
Taking the flowers, Tissaia lifts one to her nose, smiling at its scent. "Any particular reason?"
"Does there have to be?" Yennefer asks, although there very definitely is in this case. She aims for a lighter tone as she continues. "Sometimes a flower is just a flower, Tissaia. Didn't you teach me that?"
"I did," Tissaia looks unconvinced; Yennefer sees her eyes drop to where her fingers have twisted into the fabric of her dress and she stops fidgeting, linking her hands behind her back instead. Tissaia steps towards her and brushes a soft kiss at the side of her lips. "Thank you. They're beautiful."
She watches Tissaia place the flowers in a vase, and arrange them. She bites her lip.
"I've potentially done something stupid," she blurts out, unable to keep it in any longer.
Tissaia turns to look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "You say this like it should still shock me."
Yennefer wrinkles her nose. "Very funny."
Satisfied with her handiwork, Tissaia turns fully, dusting her hands together. "On the scale of stupid things, are we in the realm of 'I've given Sabrina facial pox to annoy her' or 'I've opened a portal to a hellscape and there are otherworldly beings coming through it'?"
Frowning, Yennefer considers the question. "Somewhere in the middle," she decides. "But definitely more towards the facial pox end."
Tissaia smiles, lifts a hand and cups Yennefer's cheek, stroking just under her eye with her thumb. "Well, then I'm sure we can cope with whatever it is," she murmurs. "What did you do?"
She closes her eyes and turns her face into Tissaia's hand, pressing her nose and lips against it. "I've arranged for us to dine with Geralt tomorrow." She opens her eyes. "And Jaskier and this child they've acquired."
Tissaia's face remains impassive, but Yen doesn't miss the slight tightening of her jaw.
"Arranging a dinner is definitely at the tamer end of things you could have told me, I agree," she says, finally, withdrawing her hand and turning away.
"Yes." There's a tension sitting in the space between them now, and Yen doesn't like it. "Is that- I mean, do you-" She swallows. "Is that alright with you?"
"Of course," Tissaia says, flashing a quick smile at Yennefer before busying herself with rearranging some items on the table. "They are your friends-"
"Jaskier's an acquaintance, at best," Yennefer puts in.
"-why shouldn't we pass an evening with them?" Tissaia asks, moving to the bookshelf, taking books out and shifting them around.
"You know why," Yennefer says, quietly. She feels worse about this than she did previously.
"Because Geralt is one of your past lovers?" Tissaia lets out a curt laugh. "My dear, I'm sure we both have more than a few-"
"It's not that," Yennefer interrupts, because she really doesn't like to think about Tissaia lying with other people. "It's not because he's a past lover."
She steps up behind Tissaia, taking a book out of her hand and putting it back before urging her to turn around. She takes both of her hands, to prevent her from trying to tidy anything else while they have this discussion. Rubbing her thumb along the ridge of Tissaia's knuckles, she sighs.
"What if-" She closes her eyes. "When we-"
"You're worried that when you see Geralt, the feelings caused by his wish will resurge." Tissaia says it casually, but Yennefer can feel the rigidity in her hands, can see how her arms are pulled back and her shoulders sitting too high.
"Yes," Yennefer admits. "When I've seen him before, I've-" She sighs in frustration. "Whatever I've felt for him has been false, manufactured. But-"
"But it feels genuine," Tissaia whispers.
Yennefer nods, her eyes prickling with tears. "Those feelings were never real. And they're nothing compared to how I feel about you. But-" She looks down and sighs, tightening her hold on Tissaia's hands. "I'm worried that I'll see him, and I'll feel things that aren't in my control." She looks up and meets Tissaia's eyes, trying to read what's there. "I love you. I'm happy with you." She presses one of Tissaia's hands against her chest, above her heart. "And that is real. And I don't want to fuck it up because of a stupid dinner Jaskier goaded me into."
Tissaia smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She takes her hands from Yennefer's grip and reaches up to set them on Yennefer's shoulders. They stand that way for a moment, just looking into one another's eyes. Tissaia sighs and presses a gentle kiss to Yennefer's lips and then pulls her close. Yennefer wraps her arms around her, holding her tightly, almost desperately. Tissaia's fingers play in the fine hairs at the nape of Yennefer's neck and she feels another sigh exhaled against her chest. "Let's just wait and see what tomorrow brings, shall we?"
Tightening her arms, Yennefer nods. They don't really have any other option.
That night, when they make love, it's intense. Though Tissaia is always a passionate woman, there's something different about her touches. Yennefer had wondered if she would perhaps be angry, or possessive, maybe even seeking to mark her territory in some way.
But it's not like that at all.
If she didn't know any better, she'd say Tissaia was trying to memorise every inch of her body. Her caresses are slow and tender. Her fingers explore first, blazing a trail for her mouth to follow. She takes Yennefer to the heights of ecstasy many times before she relents and lets her reciprocate.
Yennefer tries to respond in kind, to take care of Tissaia the way she had taken care of her, but Tissaia doesn't allow her to. Whenever Yennefer tries to move down her body, she urges her to stay. So she stays, she lets her weight cover Tissaia, lets their foreheads rest together, looks into Tissaia's eyes.
Afterwards they lie tangled together, with Tissaia's face pressed into Yennefer's neck.
She's not sure either of them sleep.