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Being a Witcher suited Yennefer. She was ruthless, had unending strength. Stuck at a job until it was done and learned fast. Proved every day her immense power, be it physical or magical. She answered to no one, and this much would never change, Triss was sure.
And then there was the Yennefer that she knew. Overworked, but never setting her sights on a break. Plagued by not so much a scratch each nightfall, but by visions of a life gone by. What she was missing. What she had been robbed of.
And by that same blackness, Triss would dream. There were thoughts hidden in lush trees and grass, crawling clouds and rocks that watched the aeons pass. She would travel far and endeavour to find them, knowing an answer might come forth, but always woke at the same point. Could never shake the wrenching of falling when she reached the shrine where Yennefer always lay waiting. It was always morning, and she was again new to earth. The rising sun was upon her, the stream of life twisting and climbing just as the wisteria on white pillars. Yennefer would sit upright on the pale altar, scattered wildflowers at her feet.
When her love laid her hand on her face, she was always glad. The rays yielded a dazzling gleam against lilac silks that plunged low. With her shifting closer Triss could appreciate the drapes slipping down her shoulder. The sheen on her collarbones. It happened at this point every time. And no matter what, they would embrace right after. The strong voice of her love summoned her and she leaned in to meet her, her breath on her face and her hand invariably on Yennefer's neck.
The years of her life always brought her to this hour. To this kiss. The sum of the desire of every living thing could not exceed her desire for her love. Triss would deafen the battle-dins of every army on the Continent for her, brave every mountain summit winter, wait for the flower to cease drawing the bee.
She never entertained the thought that it would end. But the smile Yeneffer gave when they parted, when their foreheads rested together and Triss loomed above her, said she would wait. Wait long to reach Triss’ heart. And she never felt it, was always lost to her lips, but their hands would find the other’s without fail. The clasp of Yennefer's hand was as close and tender as her eyes were devoted and kind.
────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────
She had woken from the same dream not ten minutes past, blinking slow and heavy as her mind shed the weight of sleep. Their inn room was warm and completely still, save for the barely-there rustle of the sheets as Yennefer stirred. She pulled Triss to her chest and huffed, eyes still closed.
They had fallen asleep like this before, and it would happen again. Triss could worry all she liked, but the fact that they would always find their way back to each other remained unchanged.
Yennefer blinked awake beside her and Triss nearly caved at the sight of her dazed smile alone.
Then she was combing through her curls in the way that told Triss she was lost to her own mind. That gaze was piercing, yet it could be so absent. Sometimes Triss worried she couldn’t bring her enough comfort.
Her brows drew together almost imperceptibly. Destiny always played cruel tricks on Witchers, Yennefer had thought, but then it had brought her Triss. Perhaps she had used all her good fortune in one go, then; they were never in the same place long, never able to appreciate the other’s company for long enough.
Even unintentionally, they would find themselves reunited. Nobleman’s banquets, masquerades, taverns. It was as though Yennefer was powerless to heed the distractions bidding her linger and seek any other path.
When Triss had enquired about travelling with her, she had to quell her enthusiasm. Had to ensure she wasn’t being obvious . But Triss’ shy incapability to hold her eyes when she asked had reeked of obviousness, hadn’t it? And there was only so much she could hide under the guise of needing protection when she collected rare ingredients.
Triss slowly uprighted herself. It was late morning and she refused to let the Witcher go hungry on her day off. Some of her hair cascaded down her shoulder as she went. Yennefer thought it reminded her of a soft fabric, like silk.
She leaned heavily into her back with a sigh, hands joining where they pressed lightly against Triss’ midsection.
Yennefer was the only one that made sense. Perhaps that was why Triss felt like this, why she couldn't shake the thoughts of her, not even when she tried.
Why she couldn't be more in love.
"Come back to bed, Triss." Yeneffer kissed up her nape, mindless and heavy.
With her love's affection she was able to let herself live in peace, to stop haunting herself from within. She sighed and leaned back into the lips salving her pulse. Yennefer knew that, whilst no Witcher would be in a rush to begrudge it, so far did she love so far was she powerful, for nothing could withstand her love.
She kissed Triss’ skin with just an ounce of that power, and it made shivers roll through Triss’ body.
"You don't want breakfast?" She breathed, voice erring on the side of shrill.
"No," Yennefer admonished with a quiet laugh, "just you."
"Not even pancakes? I saw edible flowers in the market and thought I could use them today-"
Yennefer sighed fondly and bowed her head further into Triss' neck, eyes closing as she savoured the warmth the witch provided. She was always warm, even in the mornings of those crisp winter days when they had walked a little way together.
"You're all I want, Triss."
She preened just a little at that, reaching behind herself to comb through Yeneffer's hair, cupping her cheek languidly to hold her lips right there . Seeking Yennefer had been longer than any Witcher’s quest, and she was loathe to let her go.
She didn't want to serve the powerful.
She didn't want to fight their wars.
She just wanted to kiss her Witcher.
"All I want right now," Yennefer continued, inhaling floral notes in red curls as stray ringlets fell in front of Triss' ear.
She tucked them behind carefully, pressing a kiss to the exposed shell when she was done.
"But pancakes later, definitely. I'll help you."
"You always help me, Yen. More than you know, actually. I-"
She turned in Yennefer's arms to face her, their foreheads easily resting together. The Witcher cupped at the back of her witch's neck as she kissed her cheek.
"I was empty before, truly. It sounds silly, but when you found me again..I wasn't in a good place. I didn't know what I needed. Didn't know who I even was."
Yennefer listened intently, stroking her thumb across Triss' cheekbone in hopes it might ground her love. Triss would never be able to tell her quite how she had lifted the burden of being unfound, how loving her had surely made her the luckiest witch alive.
The swathings and wrappings of missing Yennefer so nearly, seeing her so fleetingly, could finally be left behind. This bed was their altar and she was content to do nothing but worship, lips faltering as she graced Yennefer’s cheek with her fingers.
"But you remembered. And it wasn't enough that you were someone who saw the good in me. You always prove it."
Yennefer was swaying them both gently, a content smile on her lips. She moved in to peck Triss', but the witch stopped her, apparently not finished.
"You make me feel seen, Yen. And I cherish that. People spend their whole lives looking for that. I imagine Witchers do too, secretly."
Yennefer blinked at her, overcome with fluster and the warmth swelling in her chest. Even the sureness of her love did little to quiet her heart, did nothing for the way Triss’ eyes spoke to her even when her lips were silent.
"I love you," she found herself sighing, like these were the words that left her most easily of all. Like someone coming home. "That's why I do it. Why I can't bear to be apart from you. Why-"
She tightened her grip on Triss, protective. Triss went limp in her hold, finally satisfying her Witcher with that kiss. They didn’t have to search anymore, though Yennefer knew Triss could speak but a single word and even if she was hundreds of miles away, it would reach her ears. Though Triss knew they had never truly left one another; there were once unspoken words between them, and no words were as binding as those which did not leave the lips.
Yennefer was beaming when they parted.
"..why the whole Continent can go fuck themselves. We need more days like this. Just us."
Triss gave an affirmative laugh and leaned yet more of her weight into Yennefer, only stopping when her back met the bed. They exchanged doting glances. Triss stroked her hand up Yeneffer’s forearm until their fingers were linked against the pillows.
"What a peaceful world it would be. Humans leaving Witchers alone and doing things for themselves, for once."
Yennefer was grinning, pulling Triss into her tight as she laughed. She remembered the purple, silken dress she had seen in the market yesterday - the one she had dreamed of Triss wearing - and smiled.
"Not even in my lifetime, Triss. But that's alright. You're all I want."