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All her life Yennefer had been shackled, directed, pulled, bound, and many other words for not her own person. She hated it, hated them, hated every single person who pretended to love her, want her, or do anything other than control her. Unable to trust her own senses, her own heart, to hear anything over the voices in her head screaming that she was just a scared little girl with something to prove to the world.
It took her years to break the Djinn’s spell, to free herself from Geralt, to see him from a distance and finally find him lacking. To understand why he had bound himself to her without her consent, because she would indeed leave if she had a choice. But where did that leave her? Alone, alone and tired of all this shit.
It started out simple enough, find someone she didn’t hate to travel with, a healer who could hold his own, someone who wouldn’t get in the way, an elf she barely knew but who seemed to know her. Nothing in Yennefer’s life could ever stay simple, and her traitorous heart yearned to be held, to be loved, to have a family in some way or another.
She kept it to herself for months, pretending nothing was wrong as she flitted across the continent, trying to amuse herself with orgies, searching for artifacts she was sure were more fiction than fact, avoiding witchers, and generally trying to live her life. Today though, today she was tired of keeping it all in. Yennefer wanted to cry, to scream, to curse the sky, so she got drunk and did just that. Ignoring her travel companion, drawing her sorrows in more wine than a human could consume in their life, cursing every deity she could name, ranting like it would change her lot in life.
Chireadan had always loved Yennefer, 50 years of distance had done nothing to dull his flame, traveling beside her simply poured spirits on a smoldering fire. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and show her how she deserved to be loved. So when he heard her wish for those very things he found himself unable to hold back. Crawling forward and into her tent, baring his soul to her wrath, expecting to be struck down for his efforts. Instead he found deep purple eyes regarding him warily, demanding to know why, staring into the depths of him.
“Because for once, you are not bound to me, but I to you, by love and nothing more.”
One sentence, a simple statement. Basic, unadorned, perfect.
For once in her life Yennefer let herself hope, accepting the simple offering before her.
Fuck destiny, fuck bonds, but love? Maybe she could do love.