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Chapter Text

The air was different. Something had changed. There was an anxiety that hung like a cloud. It had never been there before but as the recent months and weeks passed, the feeling became heavier and heavier, like a cloud soaking with more and more water. Tension had always been high at Aretuza. Politicians, professors, the Brotherhood, young mages vying for their opportunity to shine - it was all bound to create a high stress environment.

But lately… Aretuza, the Brotherhood… there was a deep thread of darkness weaving its way into the fabric of this place. With every stitch, it threatened to tear apart a carefully built way of life that extended over the entire continent.

Tissaia De Vries had been drifting with the ebb and flow of this feeling, but she was beginning to think it may be time to swim against the current. Releasing a slow puff from her pipe, the sorceress watched the thin band of smoke dissipate. She was staring into nothing, thinking. What to do next?

Vilgefortz had shaken her. She had never seen him lose control as he had with her earlier, shouting at her as if she didn't understand the gravity of their situation. Replaying it in her mind brought Tissaia out of her wondering. She sighed and set her pipe down in its cradle on the desk in her chamber.

Closing her eyes, she thought of Triss. While Tissaia indeed had every intention of getting more information from the former student about this mysterious girl, she'd never meant for Triss to feel manipulated. Even moreso, Tissaia felt manipulated herself. She'd never before let anyone dictate how she handled her girls, and somehow Vilgefortz had convinced her to push Triss.

Maybe Tissaia was losing her edge. Or maybe there was more afoot than she knew. She had been keeping Vilgefortz close, attempting to uncover secrets she knew he was keeping. Now she thought she might be the one that was being played all along. The more the thought settled on her, the harder her heart began to beat.

Glancing back to her desk, a piece of paper caught her eye. A reward poster featuring a dazzling woman with long hair, magic evident in her hands. Yennefer.

Tissaia's mission had always been to keep the Brotherhood in control of the continent. Her students, her mages, were her method. However, the stronger she felt the darkness closing in on Aretuza, the more she felt compelled to protect them. She loved her girls, more than anything, and, yes, some were more precious to her than others. But now the Brotherhood's goals seemed unclear and Tissaia felt more and more they were using her to turn the balance of power on the continent somehow. This had always been the game. Train the mages, give the mages to the kingdoms, the mages bend the kingdom's ears toward the Brotherhood and they maintain control.

Tissaia no longer wanted to play the game. Somewhere along the line she started caring too much. Now when her girls were hurt, she hurt. Her goal was still to make the continent strong and unified, but those around her only hungered for power and they were getting sloppy at hiding it.

Standing to her feet, the rectoress made a hasty decision. "Alright then," she said quietly.

Stepping over to her wardrobe, Tissaia shed her dress, exchanging it for something more rugged. Grabbing a large leather satchel bag, she began to stuff it with essentials. With only a bit of room left, she carefully wrapped up her pipe and tucked it away securely, followed by any potions and elixirs she had in her chamber. As an afterthought, Tissaia snatched up the reward poster with Yennefer's image, stuffing it into the bag.

Turning to the window, she observed the horizon. The sun was just down. Enough darkness for cover. She turned for the door. Suddenly stopping, the rectoress glanced around, a last look. Clutching her medallion at her chest, Tissaia hesitantly pulled it from her neck. Unceremoniously, she let it fall to the floor. Allowing one shaky breath of emotion, she stole out the door and down the hall.

Staying to the side hallways so as not to be noticed, it seemed to take forever to reach her destination. Coming to a wooden door less ornate than her own, Tissaia knocked softly.

The door opened cautiously and her eyes fell on Triss Marigold's curly red hair. Without asking permission, Tissaia slipped through the doorway.

"Pack your things," Tissaia told her.

"What?"

"We need to leave, now." Tissaia's breath was becoming heavier with urgency.

"Leave?" Triss was clearly confused.

Tissaia swallowed and calmed herself. "Listen to me." She stepped closer to the young mage. "Get a bag, pack only what you need. We have to go."

Triss looked her up and down, noticing her traveling clothes. Slowly, she shook her head. "No."

Frustrated, Tissaia started, "Triss-"

"No," Triss replied firmly. "I'm not one of your girls anymore. You don't get to order me around."

Staring at her, slightly taken aback, Tissaia relented. She exhaled and let her pack drop to the floor. Triss was right. She was a grown woman and she deserved real answers.

Hurt evident in her tone, Triss asked, "How could you?"

Instantly stung, Tissaia told her, "I'm sorry." She closed her eyes for a second, hating that she had to apologize. "I was wrong to tell Vilgefortz of the reason for your return."

Triss seemed to soften, not expecting the words. "Thank you."

"Now listen." Tissaia curled her fingers around Triss's wrist. "You came to me because you trust me. I was wrong to bring Vilgefortz into that, but I need you to trust me again."

Surveying her former rectoress, Triss narrowed her eyes. However, she only hesitated a moment. Tissaia breathed a sigh of relief as the woman began to bustle about, gathering things into a bag. Mages traveled light. It didn't take her long. Triss was quick to pick up on Tissaia's anxiety. She stayed close, and quiet.

Sliding back out into the hallway, the two women made their way silently to the lower floors of Aretuza. They crossed the grounds with haste. Tissaia felt exposed in the openness, surprised at a sensation she hadn't felt in ages - fear. An instinct was taking over. She wasn't sure what was going on, only that it was bad.

Leading them to the docks, Tissaia waited a moment, searching around to be sure they were alone. Then she stepped onto the dock and began to untie a boat small enough that the two of them could handle.

"I don't understand," Triss said. "It would be much faster to portal across."

"No," Tissaia replied. "No magic." She tossed a line onto the boat. "Nothing they can trace."

Now Triss looked afraid. "Tissaia, what is going on?" She pleaded to know.

Tissaia stopped what she was doing. She walked over and put her hands on her companion's shoulders. "Let's get out of here and I promise I'll tell you everything."

They exchanged a nod and boarded the boat. Under cover of night, and staying beneath the long bridge, they were able to cross the water onto the continent's mainland. Leaving the boat on shore, Tissaia turned to see Aretuza silhouetted against the moonlight and she wondered if she would ever see it again.

*******************

Tissaia and Triss settled in for the night, though they only had time for a few hours sleep. It would be light soon. They'd been riding hard for hours in the dark. Now the horses they'd "borrowed" needed to rest, and so did they.

The woods were quiet. Thick trees were all around them offering a canopy of safety. They'd found a spot against a stone face, allowing protection at their back. The heat from their small fire reflected off the rock, further warming their cold bones.

They had eaten some of the provisions from Tissaia's pack, sitting in silence by the fire. The older woman reclined back against the rock wall, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Her eyes blinked slowly. Then Triss's soft voice floated to her.

"You said you'd tell me everything."

Without moving, Tissaia shifted her gaze to Triss. She was right again. Sitting up straighter, she nodded. "Indeed." With a measured exhale, the senior mage thought of where to begin. Holding Triss's eyes, she quietly asked, "Do you remember your conduit moment?"

"Of course." Triss scooted back to join her in leaning back on the rock face. "I blew up my father's vegetable garden."

Tissaia chuckled. Triss was grinning a little at the memory. Then the teacher asked, "How long did it take me to come to you after that?"

"Less than a day."

Tissaia nodded. "When a girl has a conduit moment, the uncontrolled magic is easily detected through the power at Aretuza. The Brotherhood dispatches me to collect said girl and you know the rest." She paused and narrowed her eyes slightly, thinking. "This girl, Cirilla of Cintra… you saw her power?"

Uncertainty gleamed in Triss's bright blue orbs. She nodded slowly. "More than once, and Geralt saw it before me."

"How long ago was that?"

Understanding began to dawn on the redhead. "Months," she replied.

Then it was Tissaia who gave the nod. "Months, and I have yet to hear about a girl with a conduit moment so strong that she brought down a monolith." Another pause. "Why?"

"Someone's keeping secrets in the Brotherhood."

"Keeping them from me, to be specific, and there has to be a reason."

"Stregobor?" Triss supposed.

Tissaia scoffed at the name. She was almost always at odds with the man. Tissaia hated his methods and his prejudice against the elves. Not to mention, she would never forgive or forget how he had tortured her precious Yennefer. Nor would she forget how the Brotherhood had shaken it off. Stregobor could certainly be a part of the deception.

"Likely," Tissaia replied. She hated to admit when she said, "Vilgefortz is a part of it too, I believe. "

"What makes you think so?"

"He knows how much I care about you," she confessed, "all of you, yet he urged me to press you for information even though I told him you weren't ready. It seemed crucial to him to know what you knew."

Triss looked at her with sympathy. "I'm sorry. I know you trusted him."

Tissaia gave her a sad smile. "No, dear. I kept him close because I was suspicious of him."

Triss's eyes widened. "What?"

Tissaia chuckled. "Keep your enemies closer. Though I held out hope. He and I seemed to see eye to eye on so many things."

"Do you know Yennefer called him our new daddy once?"

Both women laughed lightly at that. "That he certainly is not," Tissaia confirmed.

"Thank goodness," Triss said. "He's not your type anyway."

"Oh, and what is my type?" Tissaia asked playfully.

The young woman grinned as she teased, "Fairer skin than his, and flower colored eyes." She lifted an eyebrow and looked at Tissaia knowingly.

The sorceress kept her expression passive, wondering if Triss was talking about who she thought she was. But surely not. Surely Tissaia had managed to keep those feelings under wraps.

"We should get some rest," Tissaia told her. "We have a long road ahead."

She reached over to pull a large blanket from her satchel. Looking at Triss, who was rubbing her hands together against the chill, Tissaia indicated for her to come closer. She wrapped them both up in the blanket as they sat hip to hip, backs against the rock.

With a deep sigh, Triss lay her head at Tissaia's shoulder. The older mage felt some emotion at the move. Right now, Triss's trust meant everything, as did keeping her safe. She tried not to think of the students she'd left at Aretuza.

Tissaia stayed awake as the fire died, until the last ember dulled. Her charge's body grew heavy against her with sleep. Eyelids slowly closing, Tissaia allowed her cheek to rest on Triss's soft hair.

********************

With a gasp, Tissaia awoke. Blinking off the sleep, her mind struggled to quickly focus. The trill of a bird, that must've been what woke her. She heard them now, chattering in the distance. But she could swear her brain registered another sound, just before she woke. Squinting through the trees, she noticed the thin line of light on the horizon. It was almost dawn.

Triss stirred next to her. "What is it?" Her voice was thick with sleep.

"Shhh," Tissaia urged quietly.

The snap of a stick to their right. Both women turned to look, staying still. Maybe it was the horses. Another snap. Whoever it may be was either clumsy or didn't care if they were heard.

Slowly, Tissaia moved the blanket off them. Perhaps they could slip away. Just then, a small company emerged from around the large rocks. Both women got to their feet quickly, senses immediately alert at the threat. Two young wizards, Tissaia recognized them as Stregobor's pupils, and they were accompanied by two soldiers. Bodyguards.

The soldiers each put a hand on the hilt of their swords, as one of the wizards said, "Now hold on right there." He held a hand up. Tissaia stayed silent, hoping the lack of response would draw more information. It worked. "The Brotherhood had sent us to escort you back to Aretuza, ma'am."

Tone cautious, the senior mage asked, "Who sent you?"

"My lord Stregobor," he answered, drawing an annoyed sigh from the other.

Ah, Tissaia thought, a smart one and a dumb one. "We are on our way to see to some business. We'll return to Aretuza when it's done," she said coolly.

The smart one replied, not taking the bait, "Apologies, but we'd like you to come back with us."

Tissaia surveyed them. Four opponents, two armed, two clumsy. She could feel Triss beside her, tense and ready to act. Good. To answer the young man, Tissaia only said one word.

"No."

Immediately, the two soldiers began to draw their weapons. But Tissaia was faster. She didn't need incantations to call her chaos. It came at will. The second they charged forward, a portal opened in front them. They stumbled through it and Tissaia easily closed it before they could stumble out. That was easy, two down.

The two young men looked at one another. Raising their hands in front of them, they began to recite a spell intended to incapacitate their target. Magic began to stir between their palms. To her side, Tissaia heard Triss whispering something.

Not two seconds later, the men shot a swirl of chaos at Tissaia. She quickly deflected it with a single word in Elder speech, turning it back on them. It hit them squarely, freezing them in their spot. They stood motionless.

Their eyes looked around wildly as they tried to move, tried to speak. Triss kept whispering her incantation until the roots of a nearby large tree came up from the ground, wrapping around the young men. Once they were secure, Tissaia waved a hand, casting the spell off them. They were released but held tight by the tree roots.

Stepping close to them, Tissaia observed, "You're telling me Stregobor sent two incompetent students after us?"

They stayed quiet and her mind turned, trying to understand this play. Triss spoke beside her, "Perhaps there are others out there as well, searching."

"Are you being tracked?" Tissaia asked them. No response. "What if you return empty handed?"

"Please," the dumb one said, struggling against the roots. "Let us go."

She turned to Triss, expression apologetic. "We can't risk them telling the Brotherhood anything, even that they've seen us." Triss understood the implication and she closed her eyes, hating what had to happen next. "They will be after us the way they are after her."

Lids opening, Triss acted quickly. Lifting her hands, she used her energy and motioned her palms downward toward the ground. Tissaia watched as the dirt opened up and the roots pulled the two men down, down, down. In moments, their cries were drowned as the soil closed in over them.

Tissaia's chin quivered. Four lives lost because she'd made the choice to run away. She stared at the newly moved ground until she heard Triss's tired breath.

The sorceress went to her, hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Triss nodded, eyes sad.

The young woman's pure heart has just taken another blow. "I'm sorry," Tissaia told her and she meant it. Triss only looked at her in return. "We need to get going."

Moving, Tissaia gathered her things and prompted Triss to do the same. "Where are we going anyway?"

Tissaia answered surely. "Kaer Morhen."

Triss stopped short. "What?"

"We have to get to her before they do." She looked at her former pupil. "You know what they will do to her."

"Tissaia." Triss's tone was warning.

"What would you want?" Tissaia countered. "If you were her, what would you want or need? Guidance, people who care about you, a safe place?"

Hesitantly, Triss acquiesced. "Yes."

Tissaia was already untying their horses. "We need to warn her and offer the Witchers any help we can."

Triss set her resolve. They mounted and struck off on the long ride to Kaer Morhen.

********************

The terrain changed over hours, days. The thick woods of Temeria turned to the flatlands of Kaedwen, then finally the high snowy mountains where they would find their destination.

Tissaia and Triss seemed to have shaken any tails off. They rode hard, until their mounts needed rest, then they took it slow. But now, trudging through the snow, slow was the only pace they had. Thankfully, Triss knew the hidden road that led straight into Kaer Morhen.

Coming to the edge of the treeline, the redhead pointed to something in the distance. "There!"

Tissaia rode up beside her. Squinting, she took in the vast keep of Kaer Morhen. Tucked into the mountain side, it looked as if it were hewn from the rock itself. Gray black walls climbed the cliffs, rising into towers set far back from the entry wall. It was a defendable position. No wonder the Witchers chose this place.

Tissaia sighed in relief at seeing it. "Good."

Just as she was about to prompt her horse forward, she stopped, frozen. She felt something most familiar that had her confused and instantly worried.

Blinking in surprise, she asked, "Do you feel that?"

Triss closed her eyes, reaching out. "I feel magic. Something has happened."

But that wasn't what Tissaia was speaking of. She felt a presence. A person. She breathed out the name.

"Yennefer."

Instantly, she kicked her mount aggressively, urging him to run. Triss called after her, but Tissaia didn't stop. She shouted at the animal to move faster. She'd never ridden this hard in her life.

Giving the horse the reins, Tissaia reached out. Yennefer was in there, she was certain, but something was wrong. Though she sensed the woman, the force of Yennefer's life was faint… and fading. She tried to reach her telepathically, but was unable, only hearing the pounding of her horse's hooves.

The keep came closer and closer until she could make out the arched entryway. Rushing straight through it, Tissaia galloped to the front steps of Kaer Morhen. Yanking on the reins, the horse neighed as he was forced to a stop. Dismounting, the small woman pulled up her skirt and ran toward the steps. She heard Triss catch up, leaving her own horse.

Tissaia gasped at what confronted her at the top of the steps. A giant monster, something she'd never seen before. It was dead. Massive, a dragon, but not. What was going on here?

"What is that?" Triss stated Tissaia's thoughts aloud.

However, the older woman could only focus on one thing. The feel of Yennefer was pulling at her, despite its thinness. She rushed to the giant doors, startled to find them agape. Ignoring what should have made her suspicious, Tissaia went on. Coming through the doors, she stopped and listened. Voices.

"The hall," Triss said, tugging at Tissaia, who quickly followed.

The two women made quick steps into a large hall. Tissaia allowed one second to glance around. High windows let light into the dank space. Two large monsters, again that she didn't recognize, slain on the floor. Long tables shattered or overturned. There was a battle here. Blood smeared here and there, bodies.

Tissaia was breathing hard as she looked toward the other end of the hall. People gathered around… something. The pull of her connection took hold again, drawing her across the space.

Another one-second glance. A white haired Witcher, this was Geralt, she knew. A young girl, the one they were searching for. Men, Witchers in need of healing, but none of that mattered. Geralt was kneeling on the ground.

Suddenly everyone turned in their direction as they approached. Geralt stood, defensive of whatever he knelt near, and Tissaia felt her heart catch. There, on the floor, in a pool of bright red blood, lay her Yennefer. Tissaia didn't stop. She shoved the Witcher out of the way. Voices shouted, people moved trying to stop her, but she didn't hear what they said. The voices sounded far away, save for Triss, reasoning with them.

Tissaia collapsed beside Yennefer. The woman's already fair skin was pale, her eyes closed. Then one statement broke through all the noise.

"She's gone."

Everything stopped. Slowly, Tissaia turned toward the one who said it, tears staining her face. Geralt looked at her sympathetically, clearly distraught. Obviously, he doesn't know Yennefer, the sorceress thought.

She replied simply, with a firm, "No."

Tissaia looked down at her. She couldn't be gone. Errant locks of hair framed Tissaia's face as she stretched her hands over the lifeless body of this priceless person. She could feel it still. Dull, but present. She'd saved Yennefer from this exact fate before, damned if she lost her this time.

Pressing one hand at Yennefer's chest and the other at her abdomen, Tissaia shut her eyes tight. She tried to feel everything. Yennefer's blood, stopped in her veins, her still heart, lungs refusing to inflate. Reaching into the woman, Tissaia could feel every part of her, connecting herself to Yennefer. Quietly, she began to recite an incantation.

She heard Triss behind her. "Let her do this," she urged the Witchers and the girl to let Tissaia work.

Tissaia felt her chaos stirring inside her. She said the Elder words louder, stronger, and with more confidence. She began to imagine Yennefer's body whole again. She imagined warm blood flowing through her, a strong heartbeat, breath coming fully. She fixed her mind on those things, willing her energy into Yennefer as she spoke with even more strength.

Suddenly, Tissaia began to feel her energy draining. Yes, she thought, take it. She would give every ounce of herself if that's what it took. Powerful chaos churned between her and Yennefer's body. Tissaia opened her eyes in time to see the magic absorb into the limp body under her hands. Then, as quickly as it had come, it stopped.

Hands tenderly coming to soft cheeks, Tissaia whispered, "Yennefer." She stroked her thumbs over the spot, willing the woman to wake up. "Yennefer," she said more forcefully. It took so much energy to speak suddenly.

Finally, lilac eyes slowly opened. Tissaia felt warmth under her palms as Yennefer awoke. Shifting, she took one of her hands and examined her wrist. The new wounds were closed. The magic had worked. Tissaia's eye slipped closed in relief.

"Tissaia."

The quiet sound of her name drew her lids open again. She could only smile in return as her gaze locked with the young woman's. The voices behind her sounded again, but with all her senses now dulled, Tissaia still couldn't make them out.

She only faintly told them, "Help her."

Then the white haired Witcher was next to them, picking Yennefer up easily. Though the raven haired beauty's look stayed squared on her former instructor.

"Tissaia," she said again, a weak hand reaching out.

But Tissaia had no strength to take it. She slumped forward. The effort had left her more than exhausted, having given Yennefer every bit of life she could spare. She felt Triss come to her knees next to her.

"Hey, I've got you."

Tissaia only saw a shock of red hair as she fell against Triss and everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Kaer Morhen was cold. Set high in the mountains, wind swirled around almost all the time. The frigid air found its way through every crack and cranny. Stone walls remained almost always cool to the touch and the whistling of the breeze was a steady sound that could be heard throughout the keep.

The only relief from the cold was the warmth of the sun. On mornings like today, an open window would heat the stone as much as the wind cooled it. Freezing nights would give way to comfortable afternoons. Though the snow never seemed to melt until the early summer months, a sunny day in winter would make Kaer Morhen feel like spring.

Yennefer took in a deep breath as she opened the window in the small room. The mountain air wafted over her along with the sun's warmth. She was grateful for them both. After all, only a few hours ago, she lay dead on the floor of the great hall. Feeling the air, no matter the temperature, seemed a gift.

Strange, she thought to herself, that after all the time she'd spent in her life wishing she would die and now she wanted to live.

The thought urged her to turn to the bed in the modest room. Shifting, Yennefer moved back to the little wooden chair she'd pulled next to the bed. With a deep sigh, she sat back down, head dropping backward. She was still so tired. Apparently dying did that. Forcing her head back up, Yennefer surveyed the woman in the bed. She hoped the rays of the sun would help, some warmth to wake her.

Tissaia hadn't stirred a bit since Vesemir laid her down here. She was still a little pale, but her breathing was even. Yennefer had tended to her all night with others coming in and out to check on them both.

Yennefer still could barely believe it. She was dead. She knew she was, having felt her own life pouring out, darkness coming over her. Tissaia has been there even before she'd knelt beside Yennefer. The younger woman sensed her, heard Tissaia reaching out in her mind, trying to make contact. Yennefer was too far gone to respond.

Then when she had awoken to her mentor's scared expression and tender hands at her face, Yennefer easily realized Tissaia's chaos had brought her back. She didn't even know that kind of magic was truly possible. Now all that mattered was being here when she woke.

Suddenly, the tiniest inhale from the bed shook Yennefer from her musing. She leaned forward, eyes wide, gently taking a hand.

"Tissaia," she whispered. "Wake up."

The older mage blinked slowly, eyes looking calmly every way until they found Yennefer's violet ones.

She said a barely spoken, "Yen," as if it took all her energy.

"I'm here." Yennefer gripped Tissaia's hand, holding the back of it to her cheek. She scooted closer, wanting the nearness. "Thanks to you."

"You're alright?"

Yennefer gave an easy nod and pressed a kiss to the back of Tissaia's hand. "What were you thinking, you crazy old lady?"

Tissaia smiled a little and breathed out a chuckle. It made Yennefer grin. Then Tissaia's smile faded. She pulled her hand away and moved to languidly sit up, tugging at the thin cotton strap of a nightgown Yennefer had gotten her into.

Combing fingers through her long, wavy tresses, Tissaia replied, "I couldn't lose you." She glanced away. "Certainly not like that."

Yennefer wanted to take her hand again. The times she was alone with this woman were the only times she felt real tranquility. They held each other's gaze and she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Tissaia's hair down. Years, at least. Yennefer forgot how long it was. She looked at something else, putting the thought out of her mind.

"You could've died." Yennefer almost choked on the words.

Reaching her hand back to take Yennefer's, Tissaia told her, "I would gladly give my life for yours, as you did for Ciri."

Yennefer gave a tight shake of her head. "I'm not worth that."

But Tissaia always got to the heart of Yennefer's insecurities. Everyone thought the girl from Vengerberg was too full of herself. Tissaia had always known better. Yennefer feigned arrogance so no one would see the pain and loneliness. Tissaia always saw more than Yennefer dared show.

With a squeeze to Yennefer's hand, Tissaia quietly said, "You are worth a thousand of me."

Unable to meet her eyes, afraid of the emotion that came with being so close to the powerful mage, Yennefer simply stroked her hand with her thumb. She needed to change the subject or long subdued feelings would come out.

"Triss looked after you all night," she said. "She kept giving you infusions of her chaos, trying to heal you." Then, she did lift her countenance to Tissaia with an encouraging look. "So did I."

Tenderly, Yennefer shifted her fingers to let go of the hand in hers. She lightly ran her fingers tips up and down Tissaia's arm. Closing her eyes, she felt a familiar stirring inside her as she called on her chaos. A simple incantation and she pushed a fraction of her energy into her companion. Opening her eyes, she watched as Tissaia breathed it in. The paleness of her face lessened.

She looked at Yennefer with brighter eyes. "Your power has returned."

Yennefer smiled. "I felt it the moment you brought me back. Weak, but present."

Tissaia marveled. "Your sacrifice for Ciri was the cost."

They watched each other for a few silent moments, Yennefer unconsciously unable to stop the slow movements of her fingers over Tissaia's hand. She wanted to ask something, unsure of how to broche it. Her former teacher was powerful, no doubt. Yennefer had often sensed Tissaia holding back and wondered why. But bringing someone back from the dead was something she had never seen.

"Tissaia," she said hesitantly. "You always taught us that necromancy magic was nothing to be trifled with."

Finally withdrawing her hand, Tissaia leaned back. She looked pointedly at Yennefer. "Yes, well… I wasn't trifling, was I?" Her tone was even and Yennefer understood she intended to keep the matter closed.

Blinking as a familiar coolness came between them, one that Yennefer hated, she cleared her throat and sat up straighter.

"Triss and I are working with Ciri later today." She stood. "You should join us if you feel up to it."

Tissaia nodded, looking suddenly apologetic, but Yennefer didn't wait for her to speak. She quickly stole out the door.

********************

"She brought you back from the dead." Ciri said it as if Yennefer didn't know. There was an awe in her voice. "How is that possible?"

Triss and Yennefer exchanged a side-eyed look.

"Tissaia is very powerful," Yennefer offered simply.

Ciri narrowed her eyes, sizing up her two instructors. "More powerful than you?" She looked at Yennefer, who gave a slight glare.

Though she had to acquiesce. "Necromancy magic is something I don't know much about."

"None of us do," Triss agreed. "But Tissaia was practicing magic long before we were born. If there were things she never taught us, it was for a reason."

She looked at Yennefer and the elven mage was a little annoyed at Triss's unwavering support of their former rectoress. At the same time, not understanding why she, herself, was always so determined to find fault with the woman.

"Maybe she wanted to keep it to herself." Ciri proposed.

Triss smiled at her. Ciri was naive, and she didn't know Tissaia. "Tissaia cares deeply for her students," she said. "She would never send us into the world unprepared or unarmed. She kept nothing from us that we needed."

Irked at the singing of Tissaia's praises, Yennefer announced, "Alright then. We're out here in the cold to continue Ciri's training." Yennefer pointed at the massive gauntlet along the side of the cliff, near where they were standing. "You conquered this contraption, yes?"

Ciri's lips turned up proudly. "It took a while, but yeah."

The gauntlet was a test among tests with obstacles not only meant to strain one's abilities, it was meant to be lethal. It would weed out the potential of Witchers that trained at Kaer Morhen, and it had almost weeded out Ciri. It left her battered and broken until her wits had pulled her through.

"Good." Yennefer shot her a glance. "Now tear it down."

Lips parting, Ciri looked between Yennefer and the structure. "With magic? I don't think I can do that."

"You can. Remember, your chaos is a part of you. Use it," Yennefer encouraged.

Ciri took a deep breath. Lifting her hands, she focused on the pier and beam structure, its swinging posts, and sharp pillars. The thing had beaten her senseless. She reached out, attempting to take hold of it with her magic. Ciri curled her fingers as if trying to wrap her hands around it to tear it down. The wood began to shake.

"That's it, Ciri." Yennefer's expression became excited. "Keep going."

Then the blonde's breathing became labored. She gritted her teeth as the structure rattled, but stayed together. With a groan, Ciri tried to push energy out of herself, but it seemed to only gather inside of her, ready to explode. Yennefer grew anxious. This was just like the bridge, when they'd tried to cross on the way to Cintra. Ciri had lost control then too.

Her struggle continued for long seconds turning into minutes. Pushing and pulling with her body, Ciri tried to connect her chaos to the task. This wasn't working.

"Alright, that's enough." The gauntlet wasn't coming down. Yennefer needed to show her another way.

Ciri tried to stop, but was suddenly stuck in the magic, unable to calm herself. Yennefer turned to Triss. She could see the fear in her friend's eyes, remembering Triss's experience with Ciri's vision.

"She will lose control," Yennefer warned.

Triss quickly made her way to Ciri, who was desperately trying to harness her chaos. Speaking an incantation, the redhead laid her hands on Ciri's shoulders.

Instantly, the girl calmed. Her chaos ceased, along with the loud shaking of the wooden planks. She was breathing hard and clearly frustrated. Looking at Yennefer, she spat, "I told you I couldn't do it."

Suddenly a voice sounded behind them. "All magic comes with a price."

The three women turned to see Tissaia standing in the snow. Hands clasped professionally in front of her, a high collar burgundy dress, and hair pulled back into a low bun. She had the tiniest lift at one side of her mouth, amused at what she was seeing. Yennefer felt as if she'd been caught, though not sure at what.

Triss rushed over, smiling brightly. She pulled her mentor into an easy hug and Yennefer was surprised to see Tissaia return it, almost cuddling into Triss's shoulder. A pang of what felt like jealousy shot through her. She wasn't completely familiar with the sensation.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Triss said, before releasing the woman.

They came to join the other two. As they approached, Triss happily introduced her. "Ciri, this is Tissaia De Vries, head rectoress at Aretuza."

"Former," Tissaia corrected, and Yennefer was confused by the word.

Ciri's tone was serious when she said, "It was amazing what you did for Yennefer."

"It was amazing what she did for you," the rectoress countered. Tissaia offered Yennefer a small smile. Then she looked at the gauntlet. "What are we doing out here?" She asked casually. "I thought you were training the girl."

"Yes, well-," Yennefer faltered.

"I can't do it," Ciri said.

"Can't do what?" Tissaia asked her.

"Any of it." Ciri was discouraged.

Tissaia looked at her, faking disbelief. "My understanding is that you are the most powerful individual this continent has seen in decades."

Ciri just looked at her. With a shrug of one shoulder, she quietly said, "I don't know if that's true."

Tissaia's tone became more gentle. "The first time you used your magic, you collapsed a monolith and opened a portal to another world." Her eyebrows lifted. "Sounds pretty powerful."

Yennefer looked at her, mouth agape. Another prick of jealousy came at Tissaia's kindness toward the teenager.

"Yes, well, I can't control it." Ciri raised her voice.

"Ah." Tissaia stepped slowly past her, surveying the gauntlet. "That is a problem."

The group was quiet and Yennefer couldn't fathom what Tissaia was up to. She crossed her arms, just about to call her out for manipulating Ciri when the girl asked, "Can you show me how?"

There it was, Yennefer suddenly understood. Tissaia didn't need magic to make people do what she wanted, as was Yennefer's go-to. She wanted Ciri to ask, and led her down the path to the question. The purple eyed mage didn't know whether to be impressed or upset.

Tissaia walked up to Ciri, squaring her shoulders, her expression was sharp. She commanded the girl's attention with her words. "When you can control it, it becomes your responsibility. Do you understand?"

Ciri looked at her nervously. With a tight nod, she replied, "Yes."

Tissaia turned to Triss and Yennefer, almost as if asking permission to take over. It surprised Yennefer slightly so that she couldn't say no. She only gave a dismissive gesture. Something about her former teacher was different. There was an unknown niceness in her actions. It was unbalancing Yennefer.

The teacher lifted her chin, instantly in her element. "Lesson number one," Tissaia began to slowly walk around Ciri. "All magic comes at a cost. You cannot take without giving. You've seen that already." She looked at Ciri. "Example?"

Ciri thought for a moment. "My friend Mousesack," she said reverently. "He drained his magic holding off Nilfgaard to the point that he was too exhausted to escape."

Tissaia's look softened. "Mousesack," she whispered. "He was a good man."

Ciri perked up. "You knew him?"

She nodded slightly. "Before Cintra."

Ciri smiled but all Yennefer could think watching the scene was that Tissaia was earning the girl's trust before throwing her to the wolves. It wasn't a fair thought, she knew. Truly, Tissaia had done nothing but protect Yennefer and work for the good of the continent. Still, Yennefer's pride wouldn't let some things go. At the same time, she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward Tissaia. Part of her wanted to watch the woman work.

"Magic comes with a cost," Ciri repeated.

Looking at Triss, Tissaia said, "Can you get me a flower?"

Triss nodded without question. She held her palm toward the ground. A second later, reaching down and brushing away the snow, Triss tugged a small white flower from the ground and handed it to Tissaia. Ciri smiled at the magic. It was all still so new to her.

Tissaia picked up a rock. She held the two objects in each of her hands and Yennefer scoffed.

"You must be joking." Yennefer couldn't believe this is the teaching tool the great Tissaia De Vries came up with.

Without acknowledging the interruption, Tissaia easily recited, "Zalil ape." The flower wilted in one hand as the rock levitated in the other.

Ciri's lips parted as Tissaia let both fall to the ground, lowering her hands. An easy trick, but an effective illustration, no one could deny.

"How?" Ciri asked.

"Balance," Tissaia answered. "Triss."

The mage appeared with another flower and handed it to Ciri. Tissaia gave her the rock. "Feel both elements in your hands," she said. "Be calm. Breathe. Allow your fingertips to feel the life in the flower." She watched Ciri take a slow inhale and exhale. "Now transfer the balance from one to the other. Say the words, 'Zalil ape.'"

The young girl focused for a moment, looking between the rock and the flower. Then, "'Zalil ape."

The flower withered, the rock floated, and Ciri grinned victoriously. She was so happy that even Yennefer had to smile. Triss gave the girl a squeeze at her shoulders.

Yennefer didn't let it go. She came a few steps closer and jabbed, "Parlor trick."

"Hmm," Tissaia hummed, accustomed to her pupil's constant contest. She looked at Ciri. "It took all your concentration and you couldn't break a single board of that contraption." Ciri shook her head. "Even Yennefer and Triss, two of the strongest mages I've ever trained, would tire themselves at least a little with the task you were given."

Then Yennefer's lips parted and she uncrossed her arms, offended. "She's powerful enough to do it."

"All the power in the world is useless if you can't control it."

"Then you do it," Yennefer challenged, lifting her chin defiantly. "Bring it down since it's so easy."

Tissaia looked at her. Yennefer worked to hold her gaze, determined not to back down. Why did this woman infuriate her so?

Tissaia was the one to break eye contact. She turned to look at the gauntlet. Then she turned back to the three of them. She barely lifted two fingers from her side. In an instant, the entire structure, wooden planks, swinging pillars, stone counter balances, sweeping traps, broke apart of the cliff side with a loud sound, a thin cloud of dust and snow wafting from the disturbance.

Ciri gasped and Yennefer rolled her eyes. Tissaia stayed her gaze on lilac eyes. There was hardly any effort in her look. Lifting her hand, without looking behind her, Tissaia swirled her index finger around and around. The mass of debris floated in the air and turned like a twister as Tissaia emphasized her point about control. Then, suddenly, she spread her fingers and opened her palm. Even Yennefer was surprised when the pieces of the gauntlet flew in every direction, like an explosion leaving an epicenter.

The three young women looked at each other, then at Tissaia. Again, Yennefer's tone was cocky. "I could have done that."

Tissaia gave her a sly grin. "Yes, but what about this…"

Eyes locked with her former student, Tissaia lifted her hand again. No incantation, only will, and Tissaia moved her wrist and, in a flash, to everyone's amazement, every single piece of the gauntlet came flying back at lightning speed. In seconds, the entire structure was intact again and perfect. Awestruck, the three students could only stare at the gauntlet. Even Yennefer couldn't believe it.

She looked at Tissaia, who should still be exhausted from her brush with death less than a day ago. Instead, she had an eyebrow cocked in Yennefer's direction. Never before had she witnessed so much control over one's chaos. It was so easy for Tissaia, as if the elements bent to her mind. She didn't have to look, or feel, she thought it and it happened.

The older mage turned to Ciri. "Triss will cover this place in flowers. You will practice that," she side eyed Yennefer, "parlor trick until it is second nature, until it isn't just easy, it's effortless, until you don't have to look or feel, until it just happens."

Ciri only nodded, mouth agape. She and Triss went to work.

Tissaia began to walk back towards the keep and Yennefer would be damned if she let her get away that easily after such a display. She walked quickly after her.

"What the hell was that?" Yennefer's tone was sharp.

Tissaia didn't stop walking. "What was what?"

Anger burned under Yennefer's skin. She caught up to her and took hold of Tissaia's elbow, forcing their gazes together. Staring, Yennefer suddenly didn't understand why she was upset. Was she mad that Tissaia was a better teacher than her? Or was the idea that maybe there was someone out there stronger than her? Both were a silly thing to be mad about, she thought.

Yennefer set her jaw, silently telling herself she would never admit the thought she'd just had. "Look," she softened her voice. "I know you've always held your chaos close, for whatever reason."

Tissaia gave a sigh. "My reasons are my own."

"Why now?" Yennefer wanted to know. "Why let it out now?"

Looking back to where Ciri was still working, Tissaia said, "We can't afford the time it takes to be cautious. She needs to learn quickly."

"Why?" Yennefer felt a protective nature rising up toward Ciri. Another sensation she wasn't used to.

Tissaia narrowed her eyes, seeming to consider how much to share. "Something is amiss with the council," she finally admitted.

Yennefer began to connect the dots. "Is that why you left, why you came to find her?" Tissaia nodded. "Do they know where she is?"

"It won't take them long to figure it out."

Turning away from her and back to Ciri, Yennefer realized her journey with the girl was far from over. Not only that, it looked like her former teacher would be with her, for at least a while. Not too many years ago, the idea would've filled her with ire. Today she felt relief at the thought.

As if reading her mind, Tissaia easily gripped her arm, tugging Yennefer's gaze back. "She's going to need you," Tissaia said quietly.

Yennefer took an unconscious step closer. She searched emerald eyes, wanting so much to feel safe with her. She confessed, "And I'm going to need you."

She hated how needy it sounded, but she loved the feel of Tissaia's arms slipping around her. Yennefer buried her nose in the crook of her neck, wrapping her own arms tightly about the woman's torso. It had been too long since she'd last seen her at Aretuza, fighting her way through armies and dirt to get to Cintra when she left, dreaming of Tissaia's face every night and wondering why she couldn't just be with her, why the fates always seemed to be pulling them apart.

Hot tears stung her eyes when she realized Tissaia was holding on as desperately as she was. "I will be here for you," Tissaia said. "Always."

They came apart, though still close. Loving hands framed Yennefer's face and Tissaia's thumbs grazed away tears that had spilled over Yennefer's cheeks. The closeness was disorienting and the young woman told herself it was because of the ordeal the day before and certainly not that Tissaia's proximity threw her, certainly not that the woman's beautiful features were this close to her lips.

Just then, Tissaia pulled back and Yennefer could only hope she hadn't given her feelings away. Then they walked, arm in arm, back into Kaer Morhen.

Chapter Text

It was almost beginning to feel like a home. Getting up each morning, setting to work, eating together, decompressing together around the fire pit in the great hall in the evenings. No one would have ever guessed that Vesemir could tell such great jokes or that Tissaia was such a wonderful chef. They were becoming close, all of them. Weeks passed without thought.

That's not to say tensions weren't high. While the Witchers regrouped after the Deathless Mother's slaughter, the mages tried their best to prepare Ciri and the keep for what Tissaia kept saying was an inevitable confrontation. Working in the lab constantly, gathering ingredients from the woods, training, training, and more training for all of them, Witchers and conjurers alike.

Tissaia.

Yennefer was constantly thinking about her, even when they were in the same room. Her perspective on the woman was shifting. It was brought on largely by the changes she'd seen in Tissaia. She was lighter, softer, and it attracted Yennefer. Certainly, she had always been attracted to the sorceress's inherent magnetism. Tissaia was commanding, focused, confident and Yennefer had always thought she was stunning. However, such a person wouldn't have any interest in a lowly mage from Vengerberg. Deep down, she really thought there was no way Tissaia would ever see her as more than the piglet she'd rescued as a teenager.

Sighing deeply, Yennefer stood up straighter as she walked. She wasn't that girl anymore. Those words were a constant mantra in her mind. Part of her had always been trying to leave that girl behind.

Wandering the halls of Kaer Morhen was a welcomed distraction. After so many days, the layout of the keep had been memorized. She could portal anywhere here if necessary. In some ways, this place reminded her of Aretuza. Built to train and shelter Witchers, much like Aretuza did for mages. Her fingers trailed along the stone walls as she thought.

Slowly turning a corner, Yennefer gave a small welcoming smile as Geralt came from the other end of the hallway.

This had been another change in the last few weeks. Her and Geralt. The constant pull toward him, the insatiable need to be with him when they were in the same place, the drive to rip his clothes off, along with the desire for him to stay with her - it was all gone. The curse of the djinn had left her. Yennefer was certain it was another effect of her recent death, along with recovering her magic. And another reason her heart had been able to turn so fully toward another.

Geralt offered her the smallest grin in return as they came face to face. They hadn't talked about it. What was there to say? At least she could finally forgive him for cursing her in the first place.

"Morning," Yennefer greeted.

"Morning." His gravelly voice spoke.

They looked at each other for a moment, neither sure what to say these days. Geralt's eyes darted away, his dislike of these types of situations evident.

As he began to move around her, he said, "I guess I better -,"

"I'm sorry," Yennefer blurted. He stopped and shifted to face her, curious. "I'm sorry for what I did to Ciri."

His look softened. "You more than made up for it."

Still, the guilt was present. Yennefer dropped her gaze. She owed them both, Ciri and Geralt, for her deception. Maybe she would always feel so. Made up for it? For stealing his child to serve her own purposes? He was being too gracious.

"I'm sorry too."

Yennefer looked back at him, not understanding what he could possibly need to apologize for. "About the djinn," he confirmed.

She began to shake her head. "Geralt -,"

"I didn't know what else to do to protect you."

She could only lift her lips slightly. He was so damn stoic all the time, but with those eyes that held so much depth. She couldn't be angry. After all, it was over now.

Placing a hand at his shoulder, Yennefer told him, "You did protect me and I'm grateful for that."

With that, they turned together and began walking back down the hall. Turning another corner, Geralt teased lightly, "At least you're rid of me."

Chucking softly, "You weren't that terrible, I suppose." She was happy when he smiled back. It brought her comfort to know their relationship would mend.

"Where are you going?" Geralt asked.

As if just remembering, the raven haired mage answered, "I'm supposed to take these to Triss and Tissaia." She pulled a bundle of herbs from her dress pocket.

The next turn they made was in the direction of the basement lab. "Your former teacher seems quite… uh…" he searched for the right word.

"Terrifying," Yennefer interjected. "She seems quite terrifying."

"I was going to say formidable."

Yennefer felt a pang for falling into the old habit of speaking harshly about the woman. She eased her tone. "She is that as well."

Tissaia had been displaying her power more in the last several days than Yennefer had ever seen. It was fascinating and admirable. And unexpected.

"You act as if you don't like her sometimes." Geralt's deep tone cut into her thoughts.

Yennefer parted her lips to speak, but stopped, not sure how to respond. So much happened at Aretuza when she was young. Her life felt like it revolved around Tissaia back then. Her feelings had morphed from teenage angst, filled with disappointment, to something entirely different.

"I do like her," was all she could manage, trying to sort out her heart suddenly.

"And?" Geralt was looking at her with an eyebrow lifted.

"She…" Yennefer didn't want to say too much, and at the same time, she wanted to pour out all her thoughts about the woman. "She knows me."

"Is that bad?"

Emotion began to bubble beneath Yennefer's skin. "Yes," she replied, a little too sharp. A deep sigh and she tried to temper her words. "She sees right through me. I can't…" she didn't want to say what she was thinking.

"Lie to her?" Geralt finished the thought.

The mage rolled her eyes. "It's not just that." Memories played in her mind. "When I lost my powers after Sodden, no one knew. I didn't tell a soul. Even that bastard, Stregobor. He was in my head and he didn't know. None of my sisters, no one could tell. Not even you."

"And she could?"

Yennefer nodded. "Immediately." One corner of her lips lifted. "She said she knew me to my core. I knew I couldn't hide it from her, so I stopped trying."

They walked in silence a few steps before Geralt asked, "What else?"

A sigh, and the woman answered, "It's like she can read my thoughts. But not telepathy, she just knows. She knows when I'm scared, or angry, and seems to know exactly why before I do. She says just the right thing to settle it." Yennefer barely shook her head, finally confronting the idea that she had truly fallen for the woman. "So damn infuriating."

She glanced over to the white haired man, who was grinning broadly. A look not often seen on him.

"What?" Yennefer spat, exasperated.

"She infuriates you because she knows you so well?"

Yennefer rolled her eyes again. "You don't understand."

He stopped walking and she did the same. Looking at her squarely, he said, "I understand that you've been searching your entire life for someone to know you through and through and love you anyway."

Clenching her jaw, Yennefer quietly countered, "She doesn't love me."

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "She almost died for you, would have died for you if necessary."

"She…" the thought trailed from her mind, unspoken. "I don't think she could ever see me like that." Yennefer's eyes glanced away, not liking the vulnerability.

He breathed out slowly and leaned in a little closer. "Yes, she could."

********************

Yennefer arrived at the lab a few minutes later. It was a large room with rounded walls. Torches and candles lit the space as one lone window near the ceiling provided only a little natural light. Shelves of ingredients lined the wall, and tables were covered with said ingredients.

Triss had a few centrifuges running, separating and mixing potions. A couple of baskets held dozens of small bottles. They'd been working for days to fill the baskets.

On one side of the room, Triss was explaining a recipe to Ciri. On the other side of the room was the object of all Yennefer's vexing. Tissaia stood tall and proud. Perfect posture that annoyed Yennefer a few days ago now made her want to stare at the statuesque woman. She was holding a bottle up to the light, assessing the viscosity of its contents.

Yennefer watched as Tissaia swirled the bottle, focused. She made her way over. A warm feeling came over the girl from Vengerberg as she observed her former mistress. How did she gather all that hair into such a perfect bun?

Yennefer swallowed thickly, realizing she was getting side tracked. Holding out the bundle of herbs, she stepped beside Tissaia and lay them on the table.

"Morning," she said, suddenly wondering if her tone sounded nervous.

Tissaia kept holding the bottle up when she turned to meet her gaze. Contoured lips curled up. "Good morning." She finally set the bottle down.

"How's it coming?" Yennefer asked.

Tissaia turned to observe her companions. "Good, I think."

She looked at Yennefer again. There was a warmth in her countenance and Yennefer had to try not to move closer. Then the sorceress reached into the folds of her dress skirt and pulled a piece of fruit from her pocket. She handed it to Yennefer who just realized she was hungry.

"I'm sure you haven't eaten anything yet," Tissaia quietly offered.

She took the food, Geralt's words thundering in her mind. Tissaia understood her. There was no way around it, and like she had been since they'd met, she was taking care of Yennefer. The younger mage practically whispered, "Thank you."

Tissaia picked up the herbs and went over to Triss. Yennefer watched her go and, as a moth to a flame, moved unconsciously to follow.

Pulling a sprig from the bundle, Tissaia said, "I believe this is what you're missing."

Triss perked up and took it. The redhead had been introducing Ciri to potions. Now was as good a time as any. They would be in need of plenty of them soon enough, if all their suspicions were correct.

Carefully taking the leaves from the twig, Triss mashed it with a mortar and pestle. Yennefer could smell the fragrance of the leaves. When the oils were released, Triss placed a small amount in a bottle she'd been working on. Corking it, she picked it up and gave it a shake, stirring the contents. A soft glow came from the bottle and Triss smiled, satisfied.

"Alright, Ciri, this is called-," but Triss was cut off by a sneeze. It was so sudden, they all jumped, save Tissaia. "Sorry," Triss said through a stuffy nose. "It must be-," another sneeze came.

Tissaia reached over and took the bottle. "You've been handling all these things too much. Go rest."

"I'm fine," Triss replied with a sniffle.

Tissaia looked at her empathetically, then she told Ciri, "Triss is the best I've ever seen with potions. She has a natural instinct for them." Eyes moving back to the redhead, she said, "But she also has a natural allergy to them, and her eyes have been puffy since yesterday." She put a hand on the young mage's shoulder. "Go rest."

Yennefer felt bad for not noticing Triss's allergy affecting her. She remembered one of her first encounters with Triss, making a potion she'd never heard of from plants in Aretuza's arboretum. That signature hopeful grin on her face. She'd been thrilled when the potion worked, only to break out in hives shortly after.

"Come, Ciri," Triss said. "I'll teach you a healing incantation." She squeezed the hand on her shoulder. "Though that is Tissaia's specialty."

The two women left and Tissaia immediately picked up where Triss left off, pulling ingredients from the shelves. A knockout potion, Yennefer realized and retrieved another herb across the room. Bringing it back, she peered on the older woman working.

It felt so easy, being here with her. The only times it ever wasn't easy with Tissaia had been the times Yennefer made it hard. It took her a long time to see that. Now it was as if she were making up for lost time. She didn't want to be anywhere else.

She noticed the lines of Tissaia's hands, the artful nature of the way her fingers moved. There was a tension in her shoulders, holding that perfect posture. Yennefer wondered if she ever loosened up. The sorceress was only a little shorter than her, the raven haired woman observed as she looked at Tissaia's hair, pulled up impeccably. The curve of her body tempted Yennefer, wishing she could wrap her arms around the woman's middle.

Feeling the distraction, she forced herself to say something. "You're different." She blinked. That wasn't what she'd meant to say, but there it was.

Not taking her eyes off her work, Tissaia replied, "Am I?"

Yennefer nodded to herself. "Yes." She didn't know what else to say.

The absentminded reply came, "And how's that?" Tissaia continued measuring, mashing, and mixing ingredients.

Yennefer's lips parted trying to think of an answer that didn't sound trite. She told herself not to say it, even as the words came tumbling out. "Your eyes are brighter." It sounded so stupid.

But Tissaia stopped her movements. She swallowed, not meeting Yennefer's gaze, and asked, "Are they?"

"Yes," Yennefer whispered.

Quiet stretched out between them. Neither seemed to know what to say, though both clearly wanted to say a lot. Yennefer wanted to pour her heart out and she wanted to listen to anything Tissaia had to say, but they weren't women known for opening up.

Tissaia shifted to go back to her work and the air threatened to turn awkward. Desperate to keep the thin connection, Yennefer blabbered, "Will you go back to Aretuza?"

At that, the older woman finally moved her face toward Yennefer. Suddenly, she looked sad. "No, I don't believe they will allow me back."

"Allow you back?" What did she mean? Tissaia practically was Aretuza.

Countenance dropping to the ground, Tissaia said, "I left to find Ciri before the Brotherhood could. I brought Triss with me. I couldn't leave her behind and she knew how to get here." She paused. "I think I've effectively ousted myself from the Council."

Connecting the dots, Yennefer quietly concluded, "So, you came here for Ciri."

Tissaia looked confused. It only took a second for her to understand. "I didn't know you were here. If I had known, I would have come sooner."

Yennefer looked at her again. This entire time she thought she had been the one Tissaia was seeking. She suddenly felt foolish. "I had only been here since the night before," she quietly explained.

Tissaia stepped closer. "I felt you." Finally their eyes met. "Miles away, when Kaer Morhen was barely visible." They leaned toward each other. "I felt you because we are connected, you and me."
She reached out and gently took Yennefer's hands, hesitantly asking, "You feel it too, don't you?"

Yennefer couldn't take her eyes off her. Tissaia was so damn beautiful and when her lips quivered with emotion, the violet-eyed woman had to fight to keep from sweeping her up.

Instead, she gripped the hands holding hers even tighter. With a tight nod, she confessed, "Of course I do." At that, both women took another step closer. "I felt it, all those times you reached out to me telepathically." Tissaia's hands let go and slipped to Yennefer's shoulders, sending warmth through her. "I never wondered how you found me in Rinde. I could always feel you reaching out, hearing you say my name in my mind."

Yennefer felt hot tears sting her eyes at the memories. All the times Tissaia had tried to contact her over the years and she refused to engage. Then there were the times when she didn't push Tissaia away, but let her stay in her mind, her presence there, if only by telepathy.

As if reading her thoughts, the other woman said, "There were times you let me in."

They were standing so close now, Yennefer could feel the soft puff of Tissaia's words. She would've only had to shift half an inch to kiss her. Her hands moved on their own, around that slender waist, as she'd wanted to do only a moment before.

"I remember." Yennefer closed her eyes, her forehead leaning against her companion's. She sighed deeply. "It was comforting, your presence, even though it was only in my mind. I wanted you to stay." She pulled Tissaia against her. "I wanted you to be there."

"I'm here now." Tissaia's hands were at the back of Yennefer's neck, urging her closer.

The contact was overloading her senses and her eyelids slipped closed, heart racing. How could she have ever pushed this woman so far away?

"Tell me we can be more," Yennefer pleaded quietly. She felt soft lips at her jaw and gasped slightly. "Tell me you want us to be more."

There was no pause before Tissaia responded. "I want us to be more."

Another tender kiss at her cheekbone and Yennefer's emotions kept spilling out. "I'm so sorry for all the things I said to hurt you." Her voice was thin against the gathering heat. "And all the times-"

"Shh," Tissaia cut her off gently. "All the times I've wanted you to talk to me and this is the moment you can't shut up?"

Finally looking at her again, Yennefer saw a playful expression, full of care, without even a hint of condemnation. Tissaia leaned in to touch her lips to the corner of Yennefer's mouth and her stomach was in knots with want. No more talking then.

Lavender eyes slid down to observe perfect lips, inviting her. Closing the tiny distance between them, Yennefer pressed her mouth to Tissaia's. Instantly her breath was stolen by the softness. She inhaled, lifting her hand to cradle a sharp jawline. Their lips barely separated before coming together again, pulling each other impossibly close. Tissaia's lips parted, wanting to deepen their kisses and Yennefer went with her, taking in every sensation.

Her fingers tingled with the desire to touch Tissaia everywhere, cursing the woman's penchant for high collars. Then Tissaia's tongue slipped lightly across her bottom lip and a throbbing began deep down. A quiet moan escaped Yennefer's throat and she was self conscious at her need being so evident. But Tissaia was so gentle. Strong kisses that held nothing but affection, firm touches that somehow only spoke care, and Yennefer realized there would never be a reason to be self conscious with this person.

Just then, she became unsteady on her feet, the thrill of the moment affecting her mind. Yennefer pushed a little too hard against Tissaia. The shorter woman shifted backward. Her hip hit the long table they'd been working at. The basket of potions they had been filling since yesterday teetered, ready to fall to the floor.

Both women released each other and reflexively reached out to stop its tumble. Both sets of hands frantically caught the basket and lifted it up, setting it safely on the table.

Breathing hard, but not for the fear of losing the potions, Yennefer and Tissaia looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"Triss would've killed us both," Tissaia said lightly with a broad smile.

Yennefer chuckled, arms unconsciously finding their place at Tissaia's waist again. Just as she was pulling the sorceress back into her, Tissaia gasped harshly. She stiffened then pulled away from Yennefer so suddenly it startled her. She watched as Tissaia's eyes darted wildly around the room as if looking for something.

"Tissaia?"

But she only held a hand up and shut her eyes tightly, concentrating.

"Tissaia, talk to me," Yennefer pleaded, confused.

The former rectoress slowly turned to look at her with wide eyes. "They're here."

Yennefer didn't need to ask who. Her heart rate increased as the hairs on her neck stood up with Tissaia's words. She squared her jaw. Tissaia closed her eyes again and Yennefer knew she was seeking to find them.

With a small turn of her wrist, the older woman opened a portal and stalked through it, unafraid. Faltering for only a second, Yennefer followed.

*******************

They came to the other side of the portal just inside the front gate of Kaer Morhen. The stone archway gave way to a wide rock bridge. The crossbar gate had been left lifted, always open for Witchers returning home. However, the archway was still sealed, as the Witchers who had been on guard acted quickly, closing off the gate with their magic elixirs.

Tissaia walked pointedly up to the blue glowing force field, surveying what stood on the other side. Her gaze was locked on the two senior mages, faces most familiar. Vilgefortz and Stregobor themselves had come. They were flanked by a contingent of soldiers bearing a crest Yennefer didn't recognize, about fifty of them it looked like.

She felt her fingertips itching, chaos brewing under her skin. Her instincts to use her magic had her body tensing.

Then she heard Tissaia's voice in her mind. The woman spoke to her without making a sound, without looking at her. "Hold Yennefer. Remain calm." Yennefer took a breath, jaw still set, wondering how Tissaia could stay so patient when she herself was ready to pounce on the lot of them.

Hearing a stirring from the keep, Yennefer looked to see the rest of the residents of Kaer Morhen rushing out, blades drawn. Triss, Ciri, Geralt, Vesemir, along with the other Witchers rushed to the gate.

"Ciri," Geralt's gravely voice sounded. "Stay close."

Yennefer's own protectiveness had her stepping closer to the girl.

"What are they doing?" Triss asked.

A question they were all wondering. Geralt took a few steps closer to Tissaia, sword drawn. Keeping his voice low lest these new enemies hear, he told her, "The elixirs won't last much longer."

"I understand," she replied evenly. "Stay with Ciri."

Looking back at Yennefer, brow knit, he slowly eased a few steps back. Finally, Tissaia addressed the encroachers.

"You will not get what you've come for," she said, voice sure and authoritative.

Stregobor spoke first. "Tissaia, stop this foolishness and the Brotherhood will welcome you back."

Tone casual, she asked, "And what foolishness is that?"

Vilgefortz took a step forward. "You cannot protect her against the entire force of the Brotherhood."

"She does not need protecting," Tissaia warned.

Suddenly, the magic of the elixirs was spent. The force field was broken, the blue glow dissipating, leaving no barrier between them and their foes.

The entire battalion of soldiers drew their weapons. Immediately, Yennefer along with the others rushed to flank Tissaia. Yennefer and Triss lifted their hands, chaos swirling between their palms. Yennefer felt her power ready to burst forth. She could see Triss at the ready beside her, thankful for the woman's presence and constant courage. On Tissaia's other side, Geralt and his band of Witchers took a fighting stance. Ciri, for her part, was completely determined to do what she could.

No one spoke, warrior's hands quivering, forcing themselves to hold back. The breeze twirled Yennefer's dark locks, but her gaze remained fixed on the two mages standing at the center of the bridge.

Vilgefortz reached into his pocket. Geralt was about to attack when Tissaia signaled for him to hold. Yennefer knew she would hold off violence as long as possible. That was Tissaia's way, always trying to avoid the big fight.

The dark skinned mage pulled out something shiny and held it up. A medallion on a chain. Then Yennefer recognized it. Tissaia's medallion. The one she'd worn since the day Yennefer had met her. Had she truly left it behind?

Vilgefortz's words were smug. "You left some of your secrets at Aretuza." He tossed the necklace to the ground.

Tissaia's eyes followed it down, then blinked cautiously back to her former partner. Yennefer could see anger seething behind her look. "Then you know you should turn around while you still can."

Vilgefortz scoffed and glanced at Stregobor. The older man motioned with his hand and all hell broke loose. The entire brigade of soldiers surged toward them. From the corner of her eye, Yennefer saw Geralt and his companions advance toward them. She and Triss also moved forward, each one conjuring as they walked.

But then, just as Yennefer was about to release a fireball and just as Geralt was about to bring down his sword, every single soldier dropped to their knees. They cried out in pain, holding onto their heads. Some of them tossed off their helmets and hit themselves with their fists. It was as if something had taken possession of them. They writhed on the ground, screaming, as all of Kaer Morhen's company stopped short, bewildered.

Yennefer looked back. There was Tissaia, still standing at the gate. She held a hand out in front of her, eyes closed, head tilted, focusing. Her fingers were stiff as if she were holding onto something tightly. Yennefer realized she was indeed holding onto something tightly, and it was the sanity of every single one of the Brotherhood soldiers.

When she looked back to the bridge, Yennefer couldn't believe what she saw. Suddenly, every soldier stood to his feet. They began to walk toward the edges of the bridge. Witchers and mages alike looked on, vexxed. Then each soldier, one by one, walked sure footedly right over the edge of the bridge. They silently fell to the their deaths, the metal of their armor crashing against the rocks below.

Yennefer turned, wide eyed, to see Tissaia slowly open her eyes and bring her arm back to her side as if she'd done the simplest task.

"Gods," Triss whispered.

Even Geralt looked shocked. "What the fuck?" He muttered.

But then, all of them remembered the leaders of the company. All eyes turned to Vilgefortz and Stregobor. Just as Geralt charged, Stregobor, in a flash, threw up a shield around him and his companion. At the same time Vilgefortz opened a portal. The two retreated to safety and the portal disappeared. In less than five seconds, they were gone.

Everyone relaxed. Turning they began to walk back into the keep, each one glancing at Tissaia as they passed her. Their looks were full of curiosity and a little fear.

Geralt sheathed his sword at his back and walked up to Tissaia. "What was that?" He asked, voice low.

She barely looked at him. "You protect them your way, I'll protect them mine." He lifted his eyebrows, unable to argue with the response and continued past her.

Yennefer looked over the edge of the bridge. The soldiers fallen at the bottom, spatters of blood all around. She'd never seen such a display. Mind control over one, even a small group, but she'd never seen it over so many.

She caught Tissaia's eyes. Her countenance was completely passive, but it didn't fool Yennefer. She'd seen the look on her former teacher's face before. It was the look Tissaia wore when she didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. But they'd gotten to know each other too well and the violet eyed mage could see the deep well of emotion behind those stealy eyes. Tissaia hated what she'd just done. She broke eye contact with Yennefer and walked back toward the stone keep.

A glint caught Yennefer's eye. She followed it and took a few steps in its direction. The medallion. Tissaia's medallion. She'd only seen the woman without it a handful of times, each time convinced that it was just under her clothing, never without it.

Kneeling down on the stone bridge, Yennefer eyed the thing suspiciously. She remembered what Vilgefortz said about Tissaia leaving her secrets at Aretuza. Reaching out, she picked the medallion up.

Gasping sharply, she dropped it reflexively and stood up quickly.

Triss came over. "What is it?"

Yennefer's gaze was pinned to the metal. "Touch it."

Triss furrowed her brow. Bending down, the redhead curled her fingers around the necklace. She reacted just as Yennefer had, pulling away from the metal, shaken.

"How?" Triss exclaimed.

Unable to look away from the etched medallion, shining in the sunlight, made of a material familiar to every mage, Yennefer couldn't believe it. For as long as she'd known Tissaia, one of the oldest and most powerful mages alive, the woman had been wearing a medallion made from dimeritium.

Chapter Text

Yennefer stared at the medallion. It sat on the small table in her small chamber and stared back. It was a circular pendant with a raised triangle at its center, containing a ruby. It was outlined by twelve raised dots. Did it symbolize something? Was it a gift? Why would a mage ever wear such a thing?

Part of her hoped if she stared long enough, the damn thing would give her some of the answers she sought. Maybe this wasn't really Tissaia's medallion, she thought, but knew that was only a wish. Yennefer had seen her reflection in that exact ruby too many times to deny it. It was certainly Tissaia's necklace, and it was made of dimeritium.

Even having it this close to her, the young mage could feel it. The magnetism of the metal, pulling at her chaos. It was frustrating, like an itch she couldn't scratch. Yennefer wanted to throw it out the window, get it as far away from herself as she could. How had she not realized it before?

Another question nagged at her. Why did Tissaia leave it behind at Aretuza? Something has changed for Tissaia. And not just the subtle changes in her personality that Yennefer had noticed recently. Something fundamental had shifted for the former rectoress.

Then there was that kiss. Yennefer's lids slipped closed as she recalled it. A moment she'd fantasized about for so long though nothing she'd imagined came close. Holding Tissaia close to her, feeling soft lips on hers, it was a dream turned reality. She remembered her hands encircling the small woman and how she could feel firm breasts pressing into her front.

Yennefer forced her eyes open with a sharp inhale. Focus, she told her herself, gaze flitting back to the token on the table. Staring at this thing wasn't going to help her understand. Yennefer retrieved a handkerchief. She did not want to touch it again. Wrapping the necklace up, Yennefer closed her eyes. Taking a breath, she reached out with her mind. Tissaia, where are you?

It only took a moment to find her. Their bond had become so solid these last weeks. She could see the sorceress in her mind's eye. Tissaia was standing atop one of the high walls of the keep, along the broken parapets. Yennefer knew where that wall was, at the west side of Kaer Morhen.

Opening her eyes, Yennefer spoke a quiet incantation and a portal appeared. Tissaia was on the other side. Pausing, she watched the woman, debating what to say. With an apprehensive sigh, Yennefer stepped through the portal.

The air was chilly outside, though even on the high walls, the breeze was largely blocked by the mountains. Tissaia was at the end of the wide walkway, gaze fixed down the valley, observing the setting sun.

Making her way with heavy steps, Yennefer passed by the parapets standing about as high as her head and as low as her waist. Many of them were broken, either by time, or the invasion decades ago. The crumbled stone was a reminder of exactly how ancient this place was. Yennefer found herself wondering which was here first - Kaer Morhen or Tissaia de Vries.

Stopping only a few feet from Tissaia, she knew the woman must know she was here, but she didn't move. Looking down at the object still wrapped in her hand, Yennefer stepped near. Deliberately, she laid the thing on the parapet wall in front of Tissaia and unwrapped it, careful not to touch it. The older mage's look slipped down to the necklace, but only for a moment.

"Explain this," Yennefer said, firmly.

It took Tissaia long seconds to respond, as if she were thinking through how to proceed. "It's dimerit-"

"I know what it is," Yennefer interrupted, raising her voice slightly.

Tissaia stayed her eyes ahead, still not looking at Yennefer. "Then what do you want to know?"

So many things. "Are you immune to it?"

"No." Her tone was faint, defeated.

"Then why have you been wearing it all this time?"

Finally, she turned to face Yennefer and the violet eyed mage was surprised at the emotion she saw. Not anger, or fear at being discovered, not defiance either, just… hurt. Like years of bottled up pain was about to release and she couldn't stop it.

Tissaia swallowed thickly. Her lips parted as she tried to find words. "I wore it to dull my power," she answered.

Yennefer's brow knit, not understanding why any mage would want to do such a thing. "Why would you do that?"

Tissaia shook her head a bit. "I -"

No giving her a chance to answer, Yennefer strongly inquired, "How powerful are you?"

"I…" Tissaia seemed unsure how to reply, looking confused. "I don't know."

An unacceptable answer. "You don't know?" Anger began to boil Yennefer's blood. "Powerful enough to destroy a brigade of soldiers without breaking a sweat." She gestured harshly toward the front gate of the keep. "Powerful enough to use your chaos through a dimeritium shackle," she spat, tossing a glance at the medallion.

"Yennefer -"

Painful memories flooded Yennefer's brain. "Powerful enough to protect us at Sodden?"

Tissaia's expression changed instantly, the turmoil replaced with firm indignation. "With my lunges full of dimeritium?"

"Stop!" Yennefer's breath came harder. "You could have used your chaos. We needed you!"

Tissaia scoffed. She turned her back to Yennefer again with a quiet, rueful chuckle. "I would've killed you all."

"What are you talking about?"

Looking back over her shoulder, Tissaia said, "Ciri isn't the only one who can't control her chaos."

Yennefer was tired of the mystery. "Bullshit! I've never seen someone with such control as you." She wanted answers, answers for Sodden and everything she'd been through. "You dragged us all to that damned hill and when the time came for magic, yours was no help to us."

Tissaia turned to her swiftly, eyes flashing. "You think I don't regret Sodden?"

Yennefer didn't care about her regret. She shouted, "Thirteen of my sisters died that day!"

"And I hear their screams every night when I lay down." Tissaia's raised voice replied, taking a step closer.

The two women locked gazes, neither would back down, not from this fight. They both lost too much at Sodden Hill. Each took a few deep breaths. Tissaia recovered her usual calmness.

"The Brotherhood required leadership and organization that day," she said. "That's what I provided." Her look softened. "You were the savior they needed."

Yennefer closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't want to be remembered for Sodden. There was too much death there. "I was too late."

"No." Tissaia took another step closer, always the one to close the gap between them. "I was too late." With a deep breath, she turned and went back to the parapet. The sun was about gone now. "You weren't there for the aftermath. The bodies, the blood… Triss and Sabrina." She paused. "We were all destroyed that day."

Yennefer's fury began to cool. She tried to put Sodden out of her mind. Her eye caught the medallion laying on the wall, still sitting on the handkerchief. She remembered what Tissaia said about not knowing her own power. All the mystery surrounding her mentor weighed on her.

"Tissaia," she said, tone muted. The question she'd wanted to ask the woman for decades finally slipped from her lips. "Who are you?"

The sorceress moved to face her again, holding her gaze with slightly narrowed eyes. She was trying to figure out what to do next. Then Tissaia looked down. Yennefer watched her lean down to pick up a slender piece of black slate rock that had fallen from the mountain at some point. The mage turned it over in her hands, inspecting it.

Yennefer waited for an answer to her question. She half expected Tissaia to reply with some amazing display of chaos. Instead, her eyes went wide as she saw the older woman firmly grip the piece of stone one hand. Tissaia took a deep breath and braced herself. Yennefer gasped as she observed Tissaia drag the slate deeply across the palm of her hand.

The woman exhaled sharply at the pain. Then she curled her fingers around the rock, allowing her blood to soak it. Yennefer watched as a few drops fell to the floor of the castle wall.

Countenance firm, Tissaia held the bloody thing in one hand and walked up to Yennefer. With her uninjured hand, she took one of Yennefer's and gently placed the bloody piece of slate in the younger woman's palm.

"Take it to Triss," Tissaia told her, expression passive.

With that, Yennefer followed with her eyes as Tissaia walked back toward the keep, muttering an incantation and shaking her hand until the deep cut had closed.

********************

Her head was laying on a hard surface. One of her hands had fallen asleep, numb when she tried to move it. Something had stirred Yennefer from an uncomfortable sleep.

"Hey." The whisper of a friendly voice. "Yen, wake up." A gentle hand ran up and down her back.

Yennefer inhaled and exhaled, slowly. Languid eyelids opened. She'd put her head down on the wooden table, intending only to rest, and evidently fallen asleep. Pinpricks began on her hand, numb from its awkward angle under her head.

"What is it?" She asked, throat raspy with sleep.

Triss quietly told her, "The final cycle will be done soon."

Immediately, she perked up. Running her fingers through her hair, Yennefer glanced beside her. Ciri has also fallen asleep in a similar position. An involuntary smile quirked Yennefer's lips. She reached over to brush a strand of yellow hair from the girl's cheekbone, a move a mother would make, she thought.

The touch was just enough to rouse her. Waking, Ciri sat up and rubbed her eyes. Yennefer stood and walked over to where Triss was watching a spinning centrifuge.

"What are we looking for again?"

This was the last of four cycles through the centrifuge. Each one, breaking down Tissaia's blood more and more until, hopefully, a secret was uncovered. Triss was the only one of them that had any idea what to do with the piece of rock the sorceress had unceremoniously doused in blood and thrust into Yennefer's hand. She added a potion here and there as the cycles went on. Triss had been working through the night to uncover whatever it was Tissaia meant for them to find.

"Well," Triss sighed hesitantly, "I have a hunch."

Yennefer looked at her with raised eyebrows. "A hunch?" Triss nodded. "Are you serious? We have one sample and you're using it on a hunch?"

"Yes," Triss replied confidently.

"And if it doesn't work? What?" Yennefer's tone was sarcastic. "You want me to go ask her for more blood?"

Triss shook off the woman's doubt with a smile. She knew exactly how to turn the attitude back around. "You know I've been working on this all night while you were asleep."

It worked and a guilty pang kept Yennefer quiet for once. Ciri joined them. "So you think she wants us to find out whatever it is she's been hiding?"

Triss and Yennefer exchanged a look. With a small nod, the dark haired mage confirmed, "I do."

"Why wouldn't she just tell you?" Ciri wondered.

Yennefer gave an inward chuckle. "Because she knows I would need proof." She shook her head. "Because I can't ever just take her at her word."

Yennefer chided herself. She'd never been very kind to Tissaia. Always questioning, always defying until any trust between them hung by a thin thread. She realized Tissaia was right, as usual. No matter what she said, Yennefer would argue about it. But she couldn't argue with blood.

"Uh, hey…" Ciri's voice drew her back. She looked to see the blond pointing to the centrifuge, which had just stopped spinning. "Triss, isn't that what it did when you tested my blood?"

Triss's mouth was agape as she observed the bright glow coming from the tiny bottle on the machine. "Yes," she whispered.

"What is it?" Yennefer snapped. But the other two women were glued to the glass bottle. "What is it?" She asked again, voice stronger.

Triss glanced at her and reverently answered. "Elder blood. I knew it."

Yennefer's lips parted and her eyes went back to the bottle. The glow was beginning to dissipate, but still present. Could it truly be?

"Elder blood," Yennefer softly repeated. "You're sure?" Her heart beat pounded in her chest.

"Completely," Triss confirmed, holding her friend's gaze. "Tissaia is of the Elder blood."

"Wait," Ciri held up a hand, the wheels in her head working at full speed. "Does that mean she and I are related?"

Triss thought. "I think so." The shock was evident in the breathiness of her voice. "I can't believe it."

"Why was hers so much brighter than mine?" Ciri asked.

"I, I'm not sure," Triss said. "Perhaps because of her age, her blood is more pure and the gene more easily detected."

Silence stretched out for seconds as they all took in the new information. Yennefer's mind was spinning. All this time the Brotherhood had been searching for one with the Elder blood and they'd had one right under their noses. Tissaia had kept this secret for an unknown amount of time. Why? Why would she do all this?

"Can you imagine how lonely she's been?" Of course it was Triss to make such an observation.

"How old do you think she is?" Ciri's expression was hopeful.

Triss only shook her head. "I have no idea." She looked at Yennefer. "Maybe the dimeritium was a way to keep it secret."

"Why keep it secret?" Yennefer asked.

"Elder blood is nothing to take lightly," Triss said. "It's driven people mad, not to mention those who would seek to steal the Elder blood as Ciri's has been stolen before." Triss paused before saying, "People are afraid of what they don't understand and they will go to drastic measures to control it."

"So what now?" Ciri inquired.

They all looked around at each other. Yennefer sighed deeply. "I'll talk to her."

As she was about to turn to leave, Triss walked up to her. "She doesn't need your condemnation, Yen."

With a weary half smile, Yennefer replied, "I know." She squeezed Triss's hand before leaving.

********************

Secrets had always been suffocating. They clung to the brain like mistletoe to a branch, unassuming and innocent. You might almost forget they were there if the leaves were thick enough. But winter always came and the leaves always fell away, revealing the parasite beneath. Soon, the tree was sick and dying.

That's what secrets are like. The mind copes with them, works around them, covers them. However, the inevitable time comes when that ability to cope reaches its end. Suddenly, the secrets pile too high and become impossible to cover.

Centuries.

The secrets had been covered for centuries, buried so deep in her brain, sometimes Tissaia wasn't sure where they ended and she began. Secrets became lies and lies became reality. Eventually, she lost herself and became someone else. The same person, she thought, she hoped, but different. Undetectable. That's what she needed to be all these years… hidden.

But the secrets were coming out and her so carefully woven tapestry was unraveling. Who would she be now? Could she still be her? Who was that even? Tissaia wasn't even sure why she did it, gave Yennefer the final clue. Maybe because it was Yennefer.

Standing at the open window of her chamber, Tissaia shut her eyes. She hoped she had not pushed the woman away forever. Her relationship with Yennefer always seemed so tenuous, like a dangling string that would tear any moment under pressure. She loved Yennefer. That much had been clear to her for a long time. She could swear there was longing in those violet orbs as well.

Shaking her head, Tissaia opened her eyes and the cool mountain air caught tears that she kept at bay. She always kept her tears from falling. Twirling her long hair in her fingers, the sorceress hugged herself as the cold air seeped through her nightgown. It was morning, though her sleep had been restless, practically non-existent. However, always thinking steps ahead, she began to wonder how to keep Ciri safe when she was eventually asked to leave Kaer Morhen. Certainly they wouldn't let her stay after such a deception. Maybe they would give her the day.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. Tissaia didn't turn towards it. It was Yennefer, she knew, and she also knew the young woman would come in whether Tissaia asked her to or not. She affectionately thought of how Yennefer did what she wanted, regardless of… anything, really.

Expectedly, she heard the old hinges creek as the door opened. She started twirling her hair again, an anxious habit.

"Morning," came a familiar voice, quiet and surprisingly kind. Tissaia stayed silent, waiting. "I gathered these," Yennefer said. "I thought maybe they would have meaning for you."

Curious, Tissaia turned to face her. Her look melted when she saw the raven haired woman holding a dish containing a bunch of small purple flowers - Feainnewedd. A treasure she hadn't seen in ages, since she went into hiding. It was a piece of herself, grown of her blood. She must've allowed the drops to fall when she gave Yennefer the slate. Stupid, she thought. She couldn't remember ever making such a mistake. Schooling her features, Tissaia tried to seem unmoved.

Yennefer told her, "They were on the wall. I went back to…" Her eyes flitted away. "I'm not sure why I went back."

She seemed vulnerable and it threw Tissaia, who had expected a firestorm to come through the door. Tone gentle, she explained, "You've never been able to just trust me."

Nodding a little, Yennefer gently put the dish down on the table. "That's true." Tissaia turned back to the window. This conversation certainly wouldn't lead anywhere good. "I did some research," Yennefer said. "It's called Feainnewedd, but I'm sure you know that. It only grows where Elder blood is spilled."

Swallowing thickly and staring out, Tissaia asked a muted, "Then you know?"

A short pause and Yennefer asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tissaia scoffed, still refusing to meet the woman's gaze. "You can't be serious."

"That's fair." She heard Yennefer step closer. "I can't imagine how alone you've been, and I know a thing or two about being alone."

Closing her eyes again, Tissaia exhaled slowly. This was not the ire she'd thought she was in for. Suddenly, she froze when cautious hands came around her waist from behind. Yennefer was pulling Tissaia gently against her. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and she fought them. A tender cheek came to lean into her temple as she was firmly engulfed in Yennefer's arms.

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

The words washed over Tissaia like healing water. She sank into the embrace. When Yennefer didn't let go, in fact held her tighter, the fear and doubt finally began to clear. She turned into sure arms and faced the beautiful woman. Looking at bright eyes, Tissaia noticed nothing but care, a look she couldn't recall seeing on this face before, and she very much liked the way it softened Yennefer's features.

Fingertips grazing across a creamy cheek, Tissaia asked, "Are you sure? You don't know what comes with this."

Yennefer seemed to search her countenance. Her hands were still firmly gripping Tissaia's torso. "We said we wanted to be more." Her tone was so confident. "I hold to that. Do you?"

Heart beating suddenly out of her chest, the sorceress looked to perfect lips and back up. She thought for exactly three seconds. Then she surged forward, kissing Yennefer passionately. Coming to her tiptoes, she pressed into the taller woman, thrilled when her vigor was met with equal energy. Yennefer kissed her back urgently as needy moans filled the space.

Shifting, Tissaia moved her mouth to ravage Yennefer's slender neck, and when the woman let her head fall back, Tissaia took the invitation, sucking lightly at her pulse. The move elicited the most wonderful sound.

A breathy, "Tissaia," spilled from full lips. Any more words were snuffed as the older woman continued kissing every inch of exposed skin.

The next thing she knew, Yennefer was tugging at her nightgown. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of it and mirrored the action on Yennefer's dress, pulling the fabric off her shoulders. Fumbling with want, the younger woman's knees buckled and she fell backward against the wall. The movement brought them to a standstill.

Both women stared at each other, eyes wide, quick breaths mingling. Tissaia took her in. She was so damn beautiful, always had been as far as Tissaia was concerned. Stepping closer, she trailed her fingers up toned arms, down Yennefer's smooth chest. Leaning in, she pressed her palms gently into her breasts and Yennefer gasped slightly. She'd wanted this for too long to let the moment pass. Pace slowed, Tissaia kissed her tenderly.

Yennefer echoed her thoughts with a whispered, "I've wanted this for so long."

Her fingers threaded into Tissaia's long hair and they were drawn together again. Easy kisses passed between them as Tissaia replied quietly, "Me too."

Finally, Tissaia pulled Yennefer's dress down until it hung at her hips. Her breathing quickened at the sight. Perfect breasts and flawless skin and she wanted to caress it all. Tissaia trailed her lips the length of Yennefer's collarbone, kissing along the way. Hands at the woman's rib cage, she urged Yennefer toward the little bed.

Gently lowering the younger woman onto her back, Tissaia thought she might burst with anticipation. She told herself not to rush, despite the throbbing that began deep inside. She could see the want in Yennefer's gaze and knew her own desire was reflected. She kissed Yennefer deeply, tongues pressing.

Reaching to pull her nightgown up, Tissaia shifted to straddle her lover's hips. Sitting over her, Tissaia lay her palms over firm breasts. She squeezed lightly and watched Yennefer close her eyes. Beginning to play with the soft, perfect mounds, Tissaia was more and more turned on. She leaned down to kiss a circle around a nipple, enraptured as it tightened with the stimulation. She couldn't resist the urge to take it into her mouth, sucking. When Yennefer inhaled sharply, lifting her back from the bed, Tissaia was spurred.

The sorceress began a push and pull, fondling Yennefer until the woman beneath her was taken over with arousal. Dragging her tongue over the other nipple, Tissaia loved the loud moan that came.

Yennefer tried to push her dress past her middle, but her hands were shaky. She could only manage a disconnected, "Take it… off."

Tissaia quickly obeyed, moving to aggressively yank the dress off her legs and revealing Yennefer's full form. Too engrossed to take in the sight, Tissaia kissed the inside of Yennefer's thigh.

"Come…" Yennefer's voice was breathy. "Come 'ere." Looking up to meet her eyes, Tissaia fell even more in love with her. Yennefer was completely vulnerable and, for once, she didn't seem to care. "Kiss me."

Unable to do anything but oblige, Tissaia moved up the lithe body, pressing her lips fervently to her lover's. Strong arms came around her and the heat in her blood became palpable. Driven to both satisfy and claim this woman, the palm of Tissaia's hand slid down until she pushed lightly at Yennefer's center.

The woman bucked against her instinctively and there was a power in being able to make her do it again, and then again. Exploring with her fingers, Tissaia began a steady movement in and out and around Yennefer's ready core. Her breathing became detached as she moved with Tissaia, rubbing her hands up and down the sorceress's legs. The throbbing inside the older woman became more urgent.

Suddenly, Yennefer pushed against her shoulder until Tissaia leaned back on her knees. Then they were face to face as Yennefer came to kneel in front of her on the bed. With hot kisses to her mouth, Yennefer tugged the last offending piece of clothing off, Tissaia's nightgown, discarded to the floor. Eyes locked and a hand at the back of Tissaia's neck, drawing her closer, Yennefer's other hand slipped between her legs. Tissaia let out a groan at sensations she hadn't felt in ages. Her forehead fell against Yennefer's shoulder.

Not to be outdone, Tissaia adjusted, going back to pleasuring Yennefer until they were moving together, riding each other. Exquisite noises came, breathy words as they clung together. Both women in the throes of ecstasy, they came seconds apart, each echoing the other's sounds.

Leaning into one another, their breathing began to even as minutes ticked by. Moving to encircle the raven haired beauty, Tissaia brought them down to the mattress together. As they relaxed into each other, she ran her fingers through Yennefer's hair, unable to remove the tiny smile from her face.

"That was wonderful," Yennefer breathed across the plain of her chest.

Tissaia chuckled softly. Then she let out a long exhale, feeling more peaceful than she could remember feeling in a long time. "I've wanted to hold you like this for so long."

A pause, and Yennefer whispered, "Feels good."

Nodding silently, Tissaia wrapped her arms fully around the woman.

********************

A couple of hours had passed. Yennefer had fallen fast asleep. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed easily was a calming sight. The light from the small fireplace danced on her fair skin. Tissaia had closed the window to combat the chill in the air. Of course, the room didn't have a fireplace. None of the chambers in Kaer Morhen did, but Tissaia wasn't one for putting up with the cold if she didn't have to.

She'd conjured the fireplace. It was simple, just a morphing of the already existing rock. The fire was smokeless, as the source of fuel was, well, non-existent. A warm fireball nestled into a cut out in the wall was all it was, really. Tissaia didn't want to put forth any more effort than that. The last thing she wanted was to lull herself to sleep. After all, the view was something she didn't want to miss.

One side of Tissaia's mouth was curled up in the tiniest grin. She had been watching Yennefer sleep for a while. Having seen the goosebumps appearing on her exposed shoulders, the sorceress had quietly made the fire. Wrapping a blanket around herself, Tissaia reclined against the wall, comfortable and calm. All the stress and worry of the past weeks was at bay, for now. Even if it only lasted the morning, she would take it.

Yennefer stirred, coming to her side, though staying asleep. Tissaia's smile grew. All her carefully constructed emotional barriers, centuries of learning to be okay alone, and this girl from Vengerberg destroyed it all. Perfectly imperfect, Tissaia knew she would be trouble immediately. What she didn't know was the person Yennefer would grow into. Powerful and passionate, head strong and deeply caring, though she would never admit it, Yennefer was everything Tissaia had suppressed about herself for so long.

Just then, the sleeping woman inhaled sharply, eyes blinking open. Tissaia took the chance she'd been fighting for minutes and reached out to brush a strand of onyx hair from the woman's cheekbone. Yennefer gave a sleepy smile at the gesture.

Tone thick with sleep, she asked a tired, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long," Tissaia quietly answered. "It's still morning."

"I didn't mean to nod off."

A small shrug of one shoulder, Tissaia replied, "It was a long night."

Yennefer pushed herself off the bed. She came to sit next to Tissaia, hip to hip, backs against the wall.

Yennefer knit her brow. "Was there a fireplace in here?"

Still grinning, the older mage answered, "I didn't want you to get too cold."

Looking at her, Tissaia saw a genuine smile on her beautiful face. A real smile from Yennefer was a rare thing. Tissaia loved the look of her. All her pretense was gone. The constantly squared jaw and hard gaze had been replaced by soft lines and kind eyes. This was the real Yennefer, she knew - soft and stunning.

"Thank you," she told Tissaia.

Leaning in only a few inches, Tissaia left a tender kiss on her lips. Her stomach fluttered when Yennefer snuggled into her and settled her head at Tissaia's shoulder. It all felt like a dream.

Then Yennefer commented, "I can't believe we did that."

They both laughed a little and their hands slipped together, fingers intertwined. Silent minutes passed as they stared into the dancing fireball. Both women were warm and content. It couldn't last forever, and they both wanted to draw the time out. But Yennefer was never one to let things go.

"Tissaia?"

Inhaling slowly, knowing the time for answers had come, Tissaia breathed out a quiet, "Yes, dear?"

The younger woman seemed hesitant when she asked, "How old are you?"

The sorceress wanted to tell her. For the first time, she wanted to tell someone everything. She wasn't slow to answer because she didn't want to. She simply couldn't remember. Yennefer tilted her head to look at her.

Narrowing her eyes, Tissaia thought. Could it really have been that long? Slowly, she replied, "Three hundred eighty…" she thought some more, "five… I think."

Her companion stared, lips parted. With a whisper, she repeated, "Three hundred eighty five." Yennefer swallowed.

Tissaia nodded slowly, meeting her wondering gaze. "Give or take."

She watched Yennefer take it in. "And you're related to Ciri?"

That was something Tissaia hadn't quite figured out yet. "I must be. I think I know where our family lines converge, but I need to research."

Yennefer's wheels were beginning to turn faster. "If you are of the Elder blood then that means you are-"

"Elven," Tissaia finished. "Yes." Her companion only looked at her, clearly hoping for more. "My father was an Elf."

"Your father," she repeated, bewildered. "You're half elf?" Her shock was no surprise. Yennefer had prided herself on being a quarter Elf her whole life. She exhaled harshly. "Well, isn't that something?"

Tissaia's mind started to wander to all the responsibility she suddenly felt. The continent, the Brotherhood, Ciri, the girls she'd left behind at Aretuza, all the time she'd spent hiding to come out into the light now. It was all culminating. She revealed herself for a purpose, but wasn't quite sure what that purpose was. A hand at her arm drew her back.

Yennefer looked at her squarely and said, "I meant what I said." The same hand lifted to Tissaia's cheek. "You're not alone anymore."

Covering Yennefer's hand with her own, she smiled warmly at the woman. Drawing each other close, they kissed lovingly, intimate kisses that spoke of commitment, and Tissaia believed her. She wasn't alone anymore.

Coming apart, Tissaia told her, "I need to speak with Ciri."

Chapter Text

Everything in Kaer Morhen was ancient. The chairs were cut from century old trees. The pots and pans were made right here in the forge down below, as were the medallions and weaponry that every Witcher used, passed down for generations. The very rock it was made of seemed as if slipped from the venerable mountain, like this place was already here before time began.

Twirling a long lock of hair between her fingers, Tissaia stared into the small mirror in her chamber. She wondered how old the glass was. The imperfections along its edges and the patina forming at the corners gave away its antiquity. Tilting her head, the sorceress observed her reflection.

She wasn't sure why she'd pulled this dress out. The neck was low cut, almost revealing her cleavage. An extreme contrast to her usual high neck lines. Maybe it was some kind of external expression of what was happening inside her, she thought, breaking down her own behavior as she would have one of her girls. Change was taking place, that was certain. Tissaia only hoped she was strong enough to remain in control.

Exhaling slowly, she combed her fingers through her hair and attempted to dismiss the line of thought. Pulling at her long hair, she prepared to pull it up in a neat bun.

"Leave it down."

The corners of Tissaia's lips lifted at Yennefer's gentle request. She withdrew her fingers from her hair. A moment later, the other woman joined her in the mirror's reflection. Heart skipping a beat, Tissaia melted when Yennefer's arms encircled her waist.

"I love your hair," Yennefer told her as she also watched them in the mirror. She shifted to place a gentle kiss at the mage's temple. Then she glanced back to the glass. "We're a pair, aren't we?"

Hands slipping to cover her lover's, Tissaia whispered in agreement, "We certainly are."

Yennefer kissed her again and it left tingles that had Tissaia's eyelids slip closed for a second. She wanted to stay like this. The security that came with Yennefer's embrace was something she couldn't remember feeling before. She leaned her head back against the woman's shoulder and pulled those arms farther around herself.

They were about to walk out the door and into what would likely be the most difficult conversation of Tissaia's life. It was time to tell Ciri everything. Well, tell them all everything. Triss, Yennefer, Ciri, they all deserved answers.

"Are you ready?"

Tissaia loved how tender Yennefer was becoming with her. Another tiny kiss at her cheek revealed the empathy she shared with Tissaia. She knew how nervous the older woman was.

Tissaia exhaled against the anxiety in her stomach and nodded. "Yes."

Languidly pulling herself from Yennefer's arms, the mage retrieved a couple of things. A large book, a smaller one, and a few papers, which she handled with care. Yennefer opened the door for her with a small closed lipped smile. It encouraged Tissaia. They walked together toward the great hall. The large wooden door was open, waiting for them.

One more breath out and Tissaia stepped through the door. Triss and Ciri were there, waiting. Hearing their footsteps the two women glanced up. Triss gave a gentle look, bolstering Tissaia. Ciri caught her eye. The child looked so sad. It was as if discovering she may have a living relative only brought up the memories that her family was gone. It must all be so confusing for her.

Tissaia and Ciri walked slowly toward each other until they came face to face. The older one watched as the younger one's gaze flitted across her face like she was looking for similarities. They both stayed silent.

Tissaia had no idea where to start and she was grateful when Ciri blurted, "Are we related?"

It should have been a simple question, but it felt wildly complicated. Tissaia opened her mouth to answer and hesitated only a moment before replying with a soft, "Yes."

"How?" The teenager immediately questioned.

Teach her, Tissaia thought, as if she was one of your girls. If she didn't keep herself focused, she might burst into tears at the girl's desperation. Glancing to a nearby table, Tissaia moved and set her things down.

She opened the larger book to a marked page. Then she carefully unfolded one of the papers. It was thick, almost cloth like, having allowed it to be preserved for a long time. Tissaia settled her fingertips on the paper.

"This is my family line," she said to Ciri. Then she touched the open page of the book. "And this is yours." Finally Ciri's gaze shifted from Tissaia to the table. "Come, see," the mage encouraged. The girl came closer, seeming nervous about what she may find out. "Here," Tissaia pointed at the bottom of Ciri's lineage. With a small smile, she read, "Princess Cirilla of Cintra." Ciri smiled too, as if at a memory. Then Tissaia shifted her finger to the top of the page. "Do you know this name?"

Ciri shook her head. "Who is she?"

Tissaia sighed slightly. She would have to start at the beginning. "Lara Dorren was an Aen Elle, an eleven sorceress from a very powerful tribe."

"An elf?" Ciri looked confused. "I don't understand."

Narrowing her eyes, the older woman asked, "How much did your grandmother tell you about your family?"

Another slow shake of her head. "Not much."

She nodded and continued. "Lara fell in love with a human mage. Their union was controversial for both sides. You see, Lara carried a gene in her blood, a synthetic gene, made by the Aen Elle in hopes of creating an extraordinarily gifted child whose power would exceed their own."

Pausing to let the girl take it in, Ciri only stared at her. "What does this have to do with me?"

Triss spoke from among them, brow knit. "There is a prophecy that says the child of the Elder Blood will save the elves from annihilation."

Looking at her, Tissaia nodded. "She was the last pure elf to carry the Elder Blood gene." She pointed back to the book. "She had a daughter, and Lara died in childbirth." Ciri glanced at the page. "Riannon." Blinking back sudden tears, the stoic woman hesitated.

After a moment of quite. "Tissaia?" The gentle sound of Yennefer saying her name like a question.

Taking a breath, the mage nodded, then continued. Ciri was waiting, attentive to every word. "Riannon had two children of royal birth, Prince and Princess of Temeria. This was the start of the Temerian Dynasty."

"Yes!" Ciri interjected, eyes wide. Finally, something sounded familiar to the girl. "They married with the House of Raven."

"And many generations later," sliding her fingertip down the family tree. Tissaia confirmed, "your grandmother, Calanthe was born." She paused again, expression falling. Not knowing how to proceed, the emerald eyed mage stared back at the paper. She'd never told any of this to anyone.

Just then, a presence was at her side, a hand on her shoulder. The touch was delicate, as if afraid of breaking Tissaia. Then Yennefer's soothing tone again. "It's alright."

She was surprised at how the simple gesture calmed her. Another shaky breath and she indicated Ciri's family line in the book. "Your lineage only shows Riannon's two children of royal birth."

Then Tissaia drew attention to the large parchment spread out, her own family line. She watched Ciri's brow knit, searching. She found it, her hand rushing to the spot as she inspected it. There, under Lara Dorren's name, a line, then Riannon's name, and underneath, not two descendants, but three. Prince Amavet, Princess Adela, and Tissaia. No title, no status to accompany the name as the others had, not even her last name. Only Tissaia, daughter of Riannon, granddaughter of Lara Dorren, written in ink just as faded by time as the others.

Ciri, Yennefer, and Triss gathered around the leather like paper. They studied it intensely. Yennefer was the first to look back up at her, seeming to sense the depth of emotion inside her lover. The raven haired woman wasn't shocked, didn't even seem surprised. But Tissaia was touched by the well of care in the woman's eyes.

Yennefer cleared her throat against a lump as the other two continued looking over the family tree, and asked, "What happened to you?"

Tissaia looked away. "I was illegitimate. No claim to the throne or royal family in Temeria. My mother asked my father to take me when I was a baby. She knew the risks to a child conceived outside the royal line."

Ciri turned to her. "You lived with your father? Among the elves?"

Finally, the tiniest grin lifted Tissaia's lips. She treasured those memories, many of which had slipped from her mind. It was so long ago, but she remembered living in the woods. Massive trees that rocked with the wind, small houses made from earthen materials, living off the land. Their village was small but the community was close knit. Despite her rounded ears, Tissaia was loved there.

She gave a small nod at Ciri's question. "Yes." Unable to hold eye contact, she looked away again. The happy memories suddenly faded.

A sick feeling pulled at her stomach. She hadn't thought about it in so long. Maybe forgetting would have been better. Her father's handsome face played in her mind, smiling at her. At least, it looked like his face. Tissaia had a harder and harder time recalling his looks as the decades turned to centuries.

Her thoughts broke when Yennefer repeated her earlier question. "What happened?"

Tissaia shut her eyes tight and shook her head. She couldn't go back there. "I can't."

But Ciri desperately requested, "Please."

Eyes pinned closed, the sorceress tried to push the images from her mind. Her father. The guards. The fire. It was too painful. But then soft hands were on her face, drawing her eyes up. Violet orbs looked at her with so much love.

"You've carried this alone your whole life," Yennefer told her. "Let us carry it with you."

Those eyes held her. And when Triss put a hand on her shoulder with a quiet, "We're here for you. No lessons, no teaching. We're your family now."

Finally, the facade cracked and a single tear tracked its way down Tissaia's cheek. Her chin quivered as feelings coursed through her. Family. Could she really have that? Looking at Ciri, knowing they shared blood, no matter how thin the connection, gave her hope she hadn't had in ages.

Yennefer's gentle thumb wiped her tears. "Trust us."

Kindness Tissaia hadn't been offered since she was young, an unfamiliar and welcomed feeling. She looked at Yennefer. Family. Yes. Tissaia turned and took a couple of steps, collecting herself. Smoothing the front of her dress with her palms, she turned back.

She asked Triss, "How old were you when you had your conduit moment?"

The redhead thought. "Twelve."

Nodding, she looked at Yennefer. "You?"

"Fourteen."

Tissaia looked at Ciri. The girl replied, "Sixteen."

Speaking quietly, she told them, "I was seven." She smiled slightly at the memory. "My father cut his hand working. I knew the incantation from a book my mother had given him." Her smile widened. "It was like second nature from the beginning. Say the words and it happens. It was always easy for me, like I was born knowing the balance. I healed the cut. Soon, I didn't even need the words, I could just think them."

"Remarkable," Triss said. "I've never heard of a mage connecting with her chaos at such a young age."

Tissaia nodded. Indeed, it was extremely rare. "My father told me from the time I was small that I was of the Elder blood. He told me I was gifted and I would learn to use that gift as my mother and grandmother had."

Ciri spoke up. "My grandmother was adamant that I not know."

"She was wise to keep your secret hidden," the older woman said. "Despite how I feel about your grandmother's treatment of the elves, I will commend her for that. She knew the dangers Elder Blood can bring, how difficult it is to control." Whispering, she added, "It's driven mad some of those who wielded it."

"Like your mother," Yennefer softly stated.

Tissaia's gaze fell to the floor. "The gene was latent in my siblings, as it was in your grandmother," she looked at the girl. "They never developed the use of magic, but my mother…" Her emerald eyes darkened, "her magic broke her mind."

"What happened to your father," Yennefer gently pushed.

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. With quiet strength, Tissaia kept her voice even. "Temerian lords began pushing the elves from their land, a crusade that would continue for generations. Guards came to our village." Pausing, she swallowed thickly. "They set fire to our homes. We tried to fight back."

Murky memories suddenly became vivid. Thatched roofs on fire. Screaming children. Men and women fighting against the invaders with bows and arrows and farming tools, while they were cut down with swords.

"My father was leading the charge. He was… he was a strong fighter. I was huddled with some of the other children, hidden, watching. I saw one of the guards strike him with his sword." Again Tissaia ran her hands across the front of her dress, hoping the motion would calm her. "He ran my father through and I watched him fall to the ground. I ran out and screamed at them to stop."

Tissaia narrowed her eyes and she remembered the guards, clad in black, striking her kinsmen. She remembered the intense fear and anger. Then she remembered reaching out with that anger.

"I reached out my hands and grabbed onto the fire," she told them. Her voice grew stronger. "And I threw it at them, slammed it into them." Her hands balled into fists as the images flashed in her brain. "It was like I was outside myself. I just acted. I saw a soldier and I burned him. I tapped into the fire again and again and again and I didn't care where it landed." Breathing becoming deep, Tissaia continued. "There were screams and blood everywhere, people falling to the ground, but I kept going. I couldn't stop. It was as if something inside was driving me, a dark instinct…"

She trailed off. Shaking fists relaxed. "Then it was quiet… The only sound was the crackling fire as it consumed our homes. I looked around and realized I'd killed them all."

"All the guards?" Triss asked.

But Tissaia shook her head. "No… everyone."

"Everyone?" Whispered Yennefer, unsure.

Tissaia nodded, though her head barely moved. Despair overtook her, as it had that day, centuries ago. "I killed everyone in the village that day. The guards… the farmers… friends… my father's friends, the children… everyone." She could barely get the words out.

Silence hung over the hall. Each woman took in the story. Triss, always the one to offer comfort, softly said, "You were only a frightened child."

"I was twelve." Tissaia's voice was so quiet. "The same age you were at your conduit moment."

"Tissaia…" Yennefer tried to speak.

"I wandered from village to village, keeping my chaos hidden." She sighed. "I was so ashamed and scared. I heard of a place for mages, someplace new, outside the border of Temeria, on the coast."

"Aretuza."

"I met Stregobor," she said. "I was about twenty. He was a brother to me for so, so long."

"You've been at Aretuza-"

"Three hundred and fifty years," Tissaia finished for her. "Ish," she added with a cock of her eyebrow."

Triss came alongside her and took her hand. "I'm so sorry."

Gripping her hand, Tissaia told them, "I practiced controlling my chaos endlessly, but I was still so afraid of losing control, so I had the medallion made of dimeritium. It dulled my magic, at least a little. Enough to keep me from…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

After a long moment of quiet, Triss asked, "Why did you leave it behind?"

"Leave what?" Tissaia's brow furrowed as she tried to focus on what her companion was saying, tried to push the past from her mind's eye.

"The medallion. You left it on purpose, didn't you?"

She met Triss's kind eyes. "When you told me about Ciri, I knew instantly who she was, what she is." Glancing to the girl, "I knew it was time."

Softly, the young blond asked, "Time for what?"

"Time for me to come out of hiding." Releasing Triss's hand, Tissaia made her way to Ciri. "No one can understand the power inside you. It is raw, and terrible, and amazing, and purposeful." Lifting her hands, she cupped the girl's cheeks. "You are the future of this continent and I will not let you resign yourself to fear and uncertainty as I resigned myself. I will give you all the understanding and teaching that I can. You will not be alone in this as I was."

Unable to hold back the palpable relief, Ciri threw her arms around Tissaia. They pulled each other close, holding on tightly. Shutting her eyes, the mage felt a peace she never had before. This was everything, this freedom. Maybe she really could move on and not define herself by that fateful day so long ago when her own actions took every ounce of hope from her life. If these people could forgive her, maybe she could forgive herself.

She released Ciri and the young woman was smiling at her. "Thank you."

Releasing a long breath, Tissaia shifted. She couldn't think about these things any longer. At least, not right now. With a sniffle she told Ciri, "Give me a few moments and I'll meet you in the courtyard. We need to work on your portaling."

The blond nodded and quickly left the room, happy to get back to training. Tissaia walked slowly over to the table. Her feet suddenly felt like lead, energy drained by the emotional toil. She closed the book and carefully rolled the old paper back up, the only copy of her family line she knew of.

Moving to take the things back to her chamber, Yennefer was there and she stopped. They stared at one another. Tissaia couldn't tell what she was thinking. Was Yennefer angry? Did she feel betrayed? The last thing in the world she wanted was to push this woman away.

Searching for words through her exhaustion, Tissaia quietly said, "I'm sorry I never told you-"

"Stop." Yennefer whispered. "You've never owed me anything." She lightly took Tissaia's hand and stroked her thumb across the back of it. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through."

Voice thin, worried, Tissaia hesitantly said, "Please tell me this doesn't change anything betwe-."

"It changes nothing between us." Yennefer pulled her closer, still delicately holding her hand. She whispered for only Tissaia to hear. "I still want you."

Tilting up, the older mage placed a lingering kiss at Yennefer's cheek. "Thank you." Tearing her gaze from the violet one, she left the room. She needed some time before she met Ciri.

Yennefer watched her go, her heart wrenched for the woman. She understood so much more now. Fighting the instinct to run after her and hold her close, Yennefer let her go. One thing she knew about Tissaia de Vries was that when she processed, she did it alone. One side of her lips quirked at the mental image of Tissaia lighting her pipe, as she was likely to be doing now.

Then suddenly, a happy and knowing voice broke her thoughts.

"You and Tissaia." Triss said the three words slowly, emphasizing each one.

Yennefer rolled her eyes. "Don't start."

"I called it, you know."

"Mhmm," the dark haired mage hummed.

Triss changed her voice, doing a sappy impression of Yennefer. "You've carried this alone your whole life." She repeated Yennefer's words from earlier, putting a dramatic tone to them.

"I was trying to comfort her." Yennefer defended herself. She wasn't ready for this relationship to be quite this out.

"Sure," Triss quickly replied, then lifted her eyebrows. "And what else have you done to comfort her?"

Yennefer's jaw dropped and she looked at Triss with wide eyes. "Triss Marigold, Tissaia is a lady."

Triss was not deterred. "You're in love with her. Admit it."

But Yennefer was already leaving the room. She called over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Triss."

Triss yelled back, "I called it!"

Yennefer grinned to herself. Then she stopped and turned back, looking at Triss and thinking of all the ways the redhead was special to her.

"It was a djinn," Yennefer told her.

Confused, Triss questioned, "What?"

Calmly, the dark haired woman confessed, "Geralt's feelings for me, mine for him," she said. "It was a djinn."

Lips parting slowly, Triss repeated, "A djinn."

"He was trying to save me. He couldn't see another way." Yennefer sighed. "When I died saving Ciri, the spell was broken. And, yes, everything I feel for Tissaia rushed to the surface."

Triss stared for a moment, then carefully asked, "So you don't…"

Yennefer smiled gently. "No, I don't have romantic feelings for Geralt."

"And he doesn't…"

"I don't know. But I do know the care of an amazing woman can sway even the heart of a Witcher."

Yennefer turned to leave when Triss called after her. "Yen!" She looked back at Triss's kind expression. "You are my sister."

Gazing at her affectionately, Yennefer echoed, "And you are mine."

********************

"So what," Ciri asked, "are you my aunt?"

Tissaia grinned lightly. They were walking through a desert. The sun was hot and she was glad they would only be there a moment. She hated the sand.

"If you put about a dozen 'greats' in front of that, I suppose I am," she answered.

Ciri smiled brightly. "Aunt Tissaia."

"Ugh," Tissaia groaned. "That sounds so old."

"You are almost four hundred."

They both gave a short laugh at the joke. It felt nice. The sorceress felt lighter the last few hours. The weight of centuries of hiding was gone. Though she didn't know what the future held, in this moment, it seemed right that these women knew her fully.

She was glad she'd put her hair up. A thin layer of sweat was forming at the back of her neck.

"It's hot," she said. "Get us out of here."

Ciri stopped walking and released a slow breath. She closed her eyes, focusing her mind, imagining. Tissaia watched her brow knit together. Then Ciri held out her hands and firmly spoke a spell.

The wind swept around them for a second then a swirling portal appeared before them. The air itself seemed to bend, opening up. Ciri opened her eyes and her wide smile was back. On the other side a familiar sight. They walked through the portal to find themselves on the Verden shore.

Tissaia looked around. They were south, far from Aretuza. Strange that she seemed to mark everywhere by its distance from that place. She shook the thought away as the two women began to walk again.

"Why this place?" Tissaia asked.

Ciri paused before answering. "We used to come here for summers. Beyond that crest up ahead." Ciri pointed.

Tissaia finished the girl's line of thought. "You can see Cintra from there."

Ciri nodded. Tissaia knew Ciri was going through the same thing she had gone through all those years ago. Losing everyone you love, your home, all that is familiar, and not understanding your own part in it. She must miss her home terribly.

"How are you doing with all this?"

Ciri didn't answer at first. They walked a few more quiet steps as Tissaia let her think.

"I miss my grandmother," she finally said. "And Mousesack. My friends."

Tissaia put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm truly sorry for everything you've been through."

"She told me to find Geralt of Rivia. It was the last thing she said to me," Ciri recalled. "When he was finally close, I could feel it. I'd searched and run and hidden for so long and then there he was, in the woods. It was like we knew each other instantly."

"He cares very much for you."

"You didn't have a family again after you lost yours, did you?"

Tissaia thought. "No, I suppose not. I went from place to place. It was dangerous for a child. I tried not to use my magic. When I met Stregobor, he sensed my chaos. I remember what a relief it was to show it to someone. He took me to Aretuza and began training me."

"Was he like family," Ciri wondered.

Tissaia chuckled under her breath. "I don't really know. It seemed like it sometimes. After a long time, he felt like a brother. We worked together to protect the continent, train mages, form alliances. Before we knew it, The Brotherhood was created, almost organically."

"What changed?"

"Power always changes people." She looked at Ciri. "Remember that and fight against it." Ciri only nodded, listening. "Now let's go. I'm tired of this sand."

Ciri stopped again and began to concentrate on opening a portal once more. "Do it while you're walking," Tissaia instructed. "You won't always have time to stop and focus so hard."

"I don't think I can do that," she replied timidly.

"You keep saying that," Tissaia said, "then you keep doing it. Just try." They kept walking. Ciri tried to picture the place with her eyes open. Tissaia could see the intensity in her effort. "Calm yourself," she told her.

Ciri nodded and released another sharp breath. She said the incantation, reaching out. The portal opened, then wobbled. She couldn't hold it. Tissaia understood. It was difficult to learn to use magic while moving, especially when something was chasing you, distracting you. But Ciri needed to learn.

"Try again." Ciri sighed, frustrated. But Tissaia encouraged, "See the place behind your eyes. Look through the place where you are now. Like there's a thin piece of glass between here and there." She watched Ciri narrow her eyes. "Do you see it?"

The girl nodded again, barely. Without hesitating, she spoke the spell and the portal was there. They both smiled triumphantly as Kaer Morhen appeared on the other side. Stepping through, they were in the courtyard. Despite the springtime, there was still a chill in the air. Though after the open plains of Aedirn, the desert of Korath, and the humid shore of Verden, the snow capped mountains of Smocze were welcomed.

Tissaia looked at Ciri. Tone seriously, she simply said, "Better."

******************

Days later, late morning shadows crept across a small room. Treasured time passed unnoticed, though savored. Outbursts of laughter echoed in the hall outside the door. Clothing was strewn about, no one cared where it ended up. The window had been left cracked open absentmindedly, letting the cool air seep in. The cold didn't matter, though. The two women were cuddled under a down blanket. Insulated skin on skin contact kept them warm.

Soft caresses and easy kisses passed between them. They'd been vacillating between dozing and talking and making out for hours. Both women knew better than most that life turned on a dime and they intended to soak up every quiet moment alone.

Tissaia placed a languid kiss on Yennefer's jaw, then another at her neck before settling a cheek on the plain of her lover's chest.

"Do you think we missed breakfast?" Tissaia asked, teasing.

Yennefer chuckled. "We definitely missed breakfast." She lightly scratched up and down her companion's back. "If we're lucky, we'll get lunch."

Tissaia exhaled slowly, goosebumps left by the touch of Yennefer's fingernails. "Feels nice." She melted into the woman underneath her.

A few silent minutes passed and Tissaia was almost asleep again when Yennefer quietly asked, "Are you happy you left?"

It only took a second for her brain to turn back on and focus on Yennefer. Begrudgingly, she lifted her head to meet a fully awake gaze. The lazy morning appeared to be over. Shifting, Tissaia came to lay on her side and Yennefer did the same, as they faced each other.

"Happy I left what?"

"Aretuza," Yennefer said. "The Brotherhood."

She held the lavender eyes when she answered, "I was there for so long." Her brow furrowed, sorting through feelings. "It was my home for centuries. I wasn't happy, no."

Yennefer reached her fingertips to trace the outline of Tissaia's face. "Why did you decide to go?"

"The more Triss told me about Ciri, the more sure I became of who she is." She glanced away. "All I could think of was how scared she must be. Then I remembered how scared I was."

Yennefer's hand slipped around the back of her neck and she scooted closer. "I'm so sorry."

"I knew they would question Triss, and I don't mean ask her questions." Tissaia's tone turned a little dark. "Stregobor crossed a line when he broke into your mind. I couldn't let him do it to Triss."

Yennefer touched her forehead to Tissaia's. "You would've protected her like you protected me."

Tissaia laid a gentle hand at her creamy cheek. "I always tried to protect you. Please tell me you know that."

"I know."

Yennefer leaned into her, pressing her lips to Tissaia's. Tissaia kissed her back. Pushing against her shoulder, she rolled Yennefer onto her back again, resuming her comfy position and continuing to kiss her slowly.

The mood had turned and Tissaia tried to lighten it again. She spoke softly against Yennefer's lips. "Do you have any idea how many times I had to convince them not to kick you out?"

Yennefer laughed as Tissaia kissed her cheek, smiling against her skin. Then she said, "One more reason I love you."

Yennefer shifted to kiss Tissaia's mouth again, but the sorceress pulled back, drawing the woman's eyes open. Expression curious, Tissaia asked, "What did you say?"

Looking confused for only a moment, Yennefer realized what she'd let slip. Her eyes widened and she looked caught. Tissaia's curious look became amused, a little grin pulling the corners of her lips. Then, Yennefer's countenance changed. It grew softer, unashamed.

"I love you," she said again, surely.

Tissaia had to force her smile not to become too wide. It was easy to say it back. "I love you, too."

Yennefer pressed her lips together, almost shyly. "I've never said that to anyone and meant it."

Tissaia bent down and kissed her solidly. Full kisses, full of promise. Suddenly, she'd never wanted anything more than she wanted a life with this person. They stayed in bed a while longer, touching, talking. It was so healing.

Finally, a craving for nourishment took over the younger woman. "I'm hungry," she said before a small gasp as Tissaia sucked lightly at her pulse point.

"Hmm," the mage hummed. "Me too," she whispered playfully, kissing her way down Yennefer's neck.

The raven haired woman chuckled, but still arched her head, opening herself further to Tissaia's mouth. A few more well placed movements of her mouth just to let Yennefer know what she'd be missing, Tissaia told her, "Alright, let's go."

"You're such a tease," Yennefer said, though the smile on her face betrayed any feigning irritation.

Tissaia moved off of her lover. "Another thing you love about me?"

Yennefer sat up and brought them face to face. Her voice was affectionate. "I'm having a hard time remembering anything I didn't love about you."

Now, that comment caught Tissaia off guard. After all, she and Yennefer had a less than stellar history, at odds for most of their relationship. It touched her deeply that they'd come this far in only months. She still couldn't believe she was sharing a bed with her. Now feelings were being confessed and it was like a dream. She stared at Yennefer, for once without a witty rebuttal.

Sensing she'd thrown her, Yennefer smiled and leaned in to place a small kiss at her lips. Pulling back and leaving a dumbfounded rectoress sitting on the bed, she began to dress.

Tissaia joined her a moment later, pulling her dress on while Yennefer joked about eating everything in Kaer Morhen. Tissaia pulled her long hair up. A few locks fell around her face. She didn't quite care about her kept up appearance any longer. She was smiling until a sound caught her ear.

In the distance… a roll of thunder? She glanced at the still cracked window. Sunlight streamed through the opening and her brow knit together. Yennefer continued talking and Tissaia held up a hand to quiet her.

"What is it?" Yennefer asked.

"Do you hear that?"

It was getting louder. She knew that sound. Not thunder. It was too rhythmic. An army, drawing close. Her eyes went wide and she shot around to face Yennefer.

"They're here."

Yennefer's eyes darted around as the sounds came together in her ears. Her lips parted with understanding. They were all here.

Suddenly, Triss's voice echoed in Tissaia's mind.

"Tissaia, they've come."

"I know," she whispered aloud, though spoke to the redhead. "We're coming."

She reached out for her friend, finding her presence atop Kaer Morhen's highest parapet. "Triss is at the tower," Tissaia said.

She looked to see Yennefer concentrating. "Ciri is there, too."

Tissaia hastily opened a portal to the spot and the two women stepped through. The older came first, immediately going to the two mages. Yennefer went to the opposite side of the tower, looking anxiously through the slender stone cut windows.

"They're over here, to the south," she called.

"They're everywhere," Triss replied.

Just then, Vesemir and Geralt rushed up the steps, leading the rest of the Witchers. All of them rushed to the windows, repeating the mage's assessment. They were surrounded.

Chapter Text

"There are too many of them."

"We should portal away."

"We can take 'em."

"We can't fight them on our own."

Everyone spoke at once. Frenzied statements filled the tower as mages and Witchers alike tried to decide what to do. An army surrounded them on all sides. They dotted the mountain clefts with arrows at the ready behind Kaer Morhen. An entire battalion lay in the woods to the south, another across the gorge, north. And directly to their front, at the foot of the keep's stone bridge, double that amount facing them from the west.

So many soldiers against four mages and a small group of Witcher warriors. The debate among them grew bolder as their nerves escalated. Save one. Tissaia stood at one of the slot windows, the sunlight illuminating her face. She stared down towards the bridge. The slope of the mountain was covered with soldiers. They were all dressed uniformly in their armor, except the two in the front.

Her emerald eyes were fixed on those two. She didn't need to be any closer to identify them. Their figures were well known to her. Stregobor and Vilgefortz. They'd come, leading this army against them. She knew they would and had imagined this exact scenario. Pinned in on all sides with no way to escape. They knew she wouldn't portal away, damn them, and if she did, destroying Kaer Morhen would be a victory in itself.

Tissaia was not going to let any of it happen. She kept her tone even and eyes pinned on the army, and spoke strongly through the chatter, amplifying her voice with magic. "We make our stand here." The magic worked. They all clearly heard her and their voices ceased. "They will not take Cirilla from us."

Yennefer's common sense spoke up. "There are too many of them."

"Let's go, leave," Triss said, anxiously.

Finally, the sorceress turned to them. "Go where?" When no one answered, she continued. "Keep running, you mean. Until they find us again. Then what? We run again?" She walked to the window opposite her and surveyed the archers. "No. We stop them here."

Geralt's gravely voice asked, "What do you propose?"

She seemed almost surprised by the question. "We trained for this, all of us. We've had a plan in place for months."

"We had no idea this was the force they would bring against us when we made that plan," Yennefer said firmly.

Tissaia walked to another window and glanced out. "The numbers make no difference."

Exasperated, the dark haired mage countered, "How can you say that?"

Turning to meet her gaze, Tissaia was almost teasing with a tiny lift of her lips. "Why must you always argue with me?" Her quiet assuredness threw Yennefer. The woman stayed quiet. "It will still work if we all play our parts."

"Damn right." Vesemir seconded and Tissaia appreciated the man was always willing to fight his way through.

Tissaia nodded. "Stregobor and Vilgefortz are to the front. I will go and meet them and distract them long enough for the rest of you to do what you must."

Yennefer marched up to her. Their eyes locked and they stared as if challenging one another. Then Yennefer lowered her voice. "You can't face them alone."

The woman was trying to be strong, but Tissaia caught the worry in her tone. Quietly, she said, "The most beautiful woman on the continent just told me she loves me." Tissaia gave her a small smile. "You think I plan on dying any time soon?"

Yennefer opened her mouth to protest, expression still filled with concern, but Tissaia stepped around her to address the others.

"Triss, you will go into the woods and dispatch that battalion." The redhead looked at her a little disbelieving. "Yennefer, you will take care of the ones opposite on the cliffs." Tissaia looked at Geralt. "The rest of you, go with Ciri and cut down those archers." Lifting her chin, she finished, "I will take down those at the west entrance."

They were all looking at her, unsure. She took in their skeptical faces. Ciri appeared downright afraid. "Who are we in the face of all of them?" The girl asked.

Tissaia's brow knit. "Who are we?" Had they truly forgotten? "My dear," she said, "We are the noble Witchers of Kaer Morhen, forged in blood and the breaking of bone." Catching each eye, she reassured them. "We are the Savior of Sodden, and the Fourteenth on the Hill." Her gaze bore into Yennefer and Triss. "The world cannot kill you. They've already failed at that." Her countenance landed on Ciri. "We are the children of the Elder Blood, born of ancient magic. You all have discounted yourselves and your companions if you think we are to lose this fight."

Silence hung over them. The elder mage knew they each must make the decision to fight for themselves, and if they didn't believe they could win, they couldn't.

Then Geralt spoke. "Alright then. Are we ready?"

The air shifted.

Geralt and Ciri gathered with the Witchers and reviewed their move. Tissaia exhaled slowly as relief spread through her. They were going to do it. They were going to fight. She turned her attention back to the window. Her two former friends were still there, waiting for her, she knew.

Turning to Triss and Yennefer, the former rectoress took each of their hands. "I believe in you both. Remember your lessons. Magic is organizing chaos, and it requires two things."

They both answered together, "Balance and control."

"Yes." Her look was proud. "Don't fight the chaos, embrace it. Stay here until I'm on the bridge."

Then, Tissaia lifted a hand to open a portal, but Yennefer caught her wrist.

"You can't go down there alone," the woman said, violet eyes full of regard. "You'll be at their mercy."

Suddenly, Tissaia had never been more confident in her power. "No, darling, they will be at mine."

With that, the portal was there and she was gone.

********************

Tissaia rushed through the portal and into the laboratory. If she stood a chance against Stregobor, Vilgefortz, and an army, she would need every spell, every incantation, every ounce of her raw power, as well as her practiced power to beat them. She hurried around and snatched up a few bottles.

Then her eyes landed on a well known object. She stopped short, staring at it. Her old medallion, from Aretuza, made of dimeritium. The sorceress blinked. The ruby center seemed to call to her. She thought hard. Suddenly, an idea struck her.

Tissaia grabbed the medallion then quickly found an empty bottle. She set them both down on a table and calmed herself with a slow inhale, then exhale. Fingertips settling on each object, she closed her eyes and focused on the metal and imagined what she wanted to happen.

The mage whispered, "Matter into vapor."

Immediately, she felt the medallion disintegrate. Opening her eyes, Tissaia saw the dimeritium vapor hanging in the air. She used her hand to guide it into the bottle and quickly corked it, remembering the awful sensation of the stuff filling her lungs.

She lifted the bottle and examined the black fog floating in it. "If only Fringilla were here," she joked ruefully to herself.

It's time, she thought. One more portal and the entire plan they'd practiced for months would be enacted and she would confront her entire past. Lilac eyes flashed in her mind. She hoped she would see Yennefer again.

Setting her jaw, Tissaia opened her hand. A gateway spread before her. On the other side lay the stone bridge outside Kaer Morhen, and her adversaries.

********************

Yennefer's gaze was pinned to the bridge. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Hands pressed into the rock walls on either side of the slender window, she waited.

Everything in her screamed to go to her lover, keep her safe at all costs. Still, she knew they must follow through with their plans. It was the only way to be free of the Brotherhood and to allow all of them to live in peace. But when Yennefer scanned their surroundings and saw nothing but soldiers, that knowledge faltered and her instinct to protect Tissaia came to the forefront.

Her eyes stayed wide, staring, anticipating. Then, suddenly, she saw it. A flash of light on the bridge. Yennefer gasped sharply as Tissaia appeared, mere meters from their foes. The others were waiting for her signal.

She hesitated, torn. Then a voice.

"Take heart, my love."

Breath uneven, Yennefer fought her fear. The comfort brought by Tissaia's telepathic tone was palpable. It gave her strength.

She turned to the others. "She's on the bridge. It's time."

Looking at Triss and Ciri, Yennefer gave a sharp nod. The two returned the look and prepared to play their own parts. Quickly, each one of them opened a portal and the tower room was momentarily filled with light. Then the room was empty.

*******************

Tissaia stood on the bridge. Her eyes immediately locked with Stregobor. His smug voice bellowed across the short distance.

"It doesn't have to end like this," he called out.

Tissaia countered, a little cocky. "End?"

He ignored the sarcasm. "You cannot expect to defeat us."

"And you can't expect me to give up without a fight."

Vilgefortz spoke up. "I've always admired your determination, but Stregobor is right. Stand down."

Every hair on Tissaia's body stood on end. Would they strike? Wait for her to make the first move? She knew she must play defense before she could go on the offense. She waited, prepared to defend against them.

"I will not allow you to take Cirilla." Her voice was strong.

"The girl is already ours," Stregobor said. "What concern is it to you what happens to her?"

Leveling her eyes on her former mentor, Tissaia told him firmly, "She is my kin."

Watching them, she saw realization come to each of their faces. For so long, they had been chasing down a descendant of Elder Blood. Now they knew one had been in their midst all along. She hoped they felt foolish.

Then, without a word, Vilgefortz lifted his hands. Tissaia was ready, lightning reflexes matching his position. And when he moved to throw a freezing spell at her, it was easily deflected as she raised a magical shield in front of her.

He lowered his hands and she knew he was simply testing the waters. Two opponents, drawing out the other's tactics. But no sooner had she lowered her own hands, when Stregobor shouted an incantation. She knew that spell. He shouted it again. The stone beneath her feet shook but she was ready. Quietly saying her own incantation, she calmed the quaking spell.

A whistling in the air drew her eyes back. They widened and Tissaia threw her shield back up just in time to deflect a dozen throwing knives. She glanced to see Vilgefortz's even expression. He'd tried to strike her. So, they meant to kill her after all. Any hesitation bought of the last visage of loyalty left her.

Stregobor yelled, "Archers!"

This was it, Tissaia thought. It was time to call on all her magic. Balance and control. Her old mentor pointed toward her. She watched as a volley of arrows filled the sky. Reacting, her palms opened wide. The notion of fire came to her mind. The magic followed. Heat rose inside her. Balance and control. She refused to let the heat take control from her.

Lifting her hands, Tissaia simply asked the fire to come. It spread out from her like a wave, stretching forward. Farther and farther it extended until every arrow was consumed by the blaze as they sailed toward the earth. Then the flame was gone, retreating back into her. The burst of power encouraged her, the way it came and went on her whim. Remarkable. So much of her own power she didn't understand. Still, seeing it, feeling it, empowered her.

Slowly, her eyes fell back on Stregobor. Then she lifted her hands, ready for whatever onslaught they would bring. Tissaia glared, daring him.

********************

Triss appeared, deep in the woods. She glanced around, getting her bearings. A commanding voice, far away, pulled her gaze. The battalion was that way. Ducking down, the redhead began to creep forward.

She moved stealthily, well accustomed to being quiet in the woods. The students at Aretuza used to make fun of her when she was a girl. What use was the power to make a flower grow or command the animals? Fools. Triss Marigold was no one to be trifled with. She didn't like violence, but it would not deter her from keeping safe those she loved.

Soon the soldiers came into sight. Triss whispered a camouflaging spell. She felt the magic wash over her. She would be invisible long enough to get the job done.

As she crept closer, there was a sudden whooshing sound far ahead. She looked passed the troops to see the top of a giant fireball fading. Grinning to herself, she knew her former rectoress was at work. Good. It was just the distraction she needed.

********************

As all eyes were stuck to the sky, watching the ashes of a thousand arrows descend to the ground, Tissaia kept herself at the ready.

Vilgefortz leveled his gaze at her. "Those of the Elder Blood are infamous for being out of control."

Tissaia scoffed. "I've never been more in control."

The man drew his sword. Her stomach dropped, knowing a challenge was in store. Vilgefortz had spent decades mastering magic with the sword, learning to maneuver it, transport it, and throw it every which way so his opponent never saw the final blow coming. She would need all her senses.

In a flash, the weapon was hurtling toward her. Tissaia threw a shield up to block and became disoriented when the blade disappeared before it even hit her shield. Suddenly, the faintest whistling behind her.

Eyes widening, the sorceress didn't have time to turn around. She waved a shield into place at her back and froze at the sound. Had it hit her? Sure expression faltering, Tissaia looked behind her to see the blade trapped in the blue glow of her shield. It was only inches away.

Then the sword shook in its place as Vilgefortz tried to snatch it back. Her hands flew to the spot, using her magic to hold it tight. He must not get it back. Concentrating, Tissaia spread the shield all around her, keeping herself safe.

Vilgefortz changed his tactic. Instead of trying to pull the blade back to himself, he began to try to thrust it through Tissaia's shield. She had to destroy it, now, lest he continue to use it against her. There was only one option, but would she survive inside this capsule?

Holding the sword in place with her mind, Tissaia called on her fire once again. In an instant, the small force field bubble was filled with white hot fire.

********************

Ciri and the Witchers quietly crossed through her portal. They were at the highest point on the mountain behind Kaer Morhen, above the garrisons of archers positioned there. She landed them closer than she'd meant to, but she couldn't change that now, but could only hope they weren't heard.

They began silently spreading out behind their unknowing quarry. An aerial assault would certainly catch them off guard. They all positioned themselves, ready to drop down.

Ciri looked toward the bridge, filled with worry for her aunt. Her heart raced when she saw the blue circle of a shield at the center of the bridge. The shield itself wouldn't have concerned her, only it was filled with fire. Was Tissaia in there?

Heart beating out of her chest, the teenager fought the urge to portal down to the bridge. She glanced to Geralt, whose eyes were stilled on the same sight, then she looked back at the bridge.

Just as she was about to leave them and take a fool's stand against two of the most powerful wizards on the continent, the shield dropped and the fire dissipated. Ciri's hand flew to her mouth to contain the relieved sigh.

Tissaia emerged from the fire, back straight and looking just as strong as ever.

Setting her jaw, Ciri turned to the ridge in the north and waited for Yennefer's signal.

********************

Vilgefortz reached to his belt, his hand reflexively searching for his sword. When it wasn't there, he looked at Tissaia, expression consumed with anger.

He shouted at her, "We will call down every one of these soldiers upon Kaer Morhen if you do not give us the girl!"

Tissaia smoothed her hands over the bodice of her dress, resetting herself. A wisp of her hair floated on her cheekbone. Her senses were heightened. She could feel everything. Her fingertips tingled with power.

"Send your soldiers," she spoke calmly. "You will not win."

The dark man's face contorted with rage. "Release the stones!"

The mage didn't have to wait to know who he was talking to. High above them on the clefts, her eye caught movement. Soldiers moved quickly around a line of trebuchets. Tissaia watched as each catapult launched a giant rock into the air.

At first, she expected they were aiming for the bridge. But then, the boulders flew over her head and straight to the front gates of the keep.

No, she thought, not their home. Following the path of the stones, Tissaia reached out her arms. She forcefully spoke a spell and watched as the rocks froze in mid air. Not wanting to wait a second to give her enemy a chance to respond, she yanked her arms back toward the army, hurtling the rocks toward them.

The corner of her lips lifted in a small but triumphant grin. The boulders smashed back into the side the mountain they'd come from, sending scores of troops careening into the ravine below.

Her small victory was short-lived. Stregobor and Vilgefortz turned back to her. Tissaia took a measured breath. As satisfying as all this was, she hoped her companions were in their places. She couldn't keep this up forever and her foe's anger would soon have soldiers pouring down upon her.

********************

Yennefer was almost there. She needed to get close enough to reach them all, but far enough away that they couldn't reach her. She searched for such a spot.

Suddenly, several members of the battalion she was stalking around let out a surprised gasp. Next, Yennefer heard the sound of crumbling rock and knew her former rectoress had performed another feat. Instead of bolstering her, it made her nervous. Tissaia could only hold out so long on her own. Yennefer needed to hurry.

Hiding in the brush, she finally found it. A large boulder, set at the crest of the ridge. It was to the side of the entire battalion. That was her place. Staying low, she moved toward it. All eyes were focused on the display down below. Tissaia's plan to distract them was certainly working.

As Yennefer came around the boulder, she pressed her back to it, and stayed out of sight. Her heart began to pound. She would use her fire magic, something she had tapped into only once, and with terrifying results. What if she couldn't maintain control?

Sudden memories flooded her mind. Night had come upon Sodden Hill. Sabrina had fallen, she couldn't find Triss, and her sisters were dying. Yennefer remembered reaching out, trying to find Tissaia, but no one answered. She remembered feeling weak and unsure. She remembered drawing strength from her mentor. She remembered finding a rock then too, a high place to stand.

Let your chaos explode.

And she had. Magic poured from her very being. All the anger and resentment she'd ever felt, all the hopelessness and all the fear, flowed from her in fire. It took everything she had to keep the flames from consuming Tissaia as they consumed everything around her. Next, she recalled being overcome by the power. She lost control. Her vision was obscured by flame. Then she'd passed out.

Yennefer's eyes snapped open. She willed the memories away. Things were different now. She was different now. Anger and fear, they weren't her masters. The desire for power was no longer at the forefront of her mind.

Forcing a slow breath, the mage calmed herself. Searching within, there was a peace that had never been there before. Not until recently… not until Tissaia. Could she pull the same power from peace rather than anger? She had to try.

Balance and control, she told herself. Finding a spot to climb, Yennefer worked her way to the top of the boulder.

Reaching out for a handhold, she grunted with the effort to pull herself up. Stealing to the peak of the rock, she surveyed her surroundings. This would certainly do. There were at least a thousand of them, pressed together in formation. A cocky grin came to her lips. Shooting fish in a proverbial barrel, just with fire, she thought.

Just then, bellowing voices came from below. Tissaia. She needed to go, now. Hesitation gone, Yennefer moved. Standing tall atop the rock, she was immediately noticed.

The soldiers nearest her turned her direction.

"It's one of them!" They shouted.

Holding her hands open in front of her, Yennefer began to call on her chaos. She would need it all. Power bubbled inside her, boiling over as she willed it forward. The soldiers began to move toward her.

Yennefer thought about everything at stake. On the ridge opposite her, her best friend, risking her life. The cliffs behind Kaer Morhen where she knew Ciri and Geralt lay in wait. She loved that girl dearly. Below them all, Tissaia, her lover, her strength, holding them all off.

Now was the time for Yennefer to explode again. The signal would set the others into action and they would end this, together.

Focusing, she watched as the soldiers began to move toward her. Flame began swirling between her hands. More, she willed. A burning fire emanated from her. More. The mage pushed the fire out. Hotter, she demanded, and the heat grew.

Yennefer cried out, every ounce of strength she had radiating out onto her enemies. Screams began but she did not dare stop. She only pushed harder, faster, hotter.

Balance and control. Her vision remained clear as the peace inside her balanced with the violence she put forth. Control remained as she stayed steadfast on her purpose and not her pride. Soon, the entire battalion would be lost.

********************

On the bridge, Tissaia didn't have to look to know Yennefer was at work. The cries of agony far off were evidence enough. Not to mention, her opponent's eyes were wide with shock.

Vilgefortz and Stregobor looked back at her. Understanding dawned on them. Tissaia wasn't the only one protecting the girl.

With a suddenness befitting a man terrified, Stregobor shouted, "Attack!"

Tissaia had been waiting for this. The soldiers started cascading down the mountain toward the keep. She was ready. Stretching her arms out, a wave of blue light stretched up from the ground. A massive shield went up in front of the bridge, reaching far out to the sides. No one would penetrate it. Soldiers slammed against it, pounding their weapons and fists.

Leaning forward, Tissaia held the shield firmly, pushing against the air. On the other side, her two former friends stared at her angrily.

********************

Triss's gaze had been fixed on the ridge across the gorge when, out of nowhere the entire area erupted in flame. This was it. Yennefer's signal.

Still hidden by her camouflage spell, Triss moved easily through the thick trees and bushes. Coming behind the battalion, the mage knelt to the ground.

The feel of earth under her palms was comforting and familiar. The dirt was cool and it calmed her. She reached out with her magic, reached under the ground. Searching, she connected with the intricate patchwork of root systems. She could sense them, where they were, how large, what tree, what plant.

Finding as many as she could, Triss took hold of the forest from its very feet. Voice low, she began to speak an incantation. She said the words over and over again until the roots became alive, until she bonded with them and they would do her bidding.

The mage commanded every tree, every fern, and blade of grass to move. The first tree to fall blasted twenty soldiers over the edge of a cliff. Massive sinkholes opened up in the middle of the formation, consuming huge numbers of them before closing in again. More huge trees broke free from the ground, falling and rolling over bodies. The soldiers barely had time to scream before they were tossed into the gorge or buried in the dirt.

Complete chaos raged around Triss as she kneeled completely composed on the ground, and continued to whisper her spell until the battalion was gone.

********************

In the clefts behind Kaer Morhen, the smaller archer garrisons stirred and yelled in surprise as they watched fire rage on one side of the gorge and forest itself lift from the ground on the other side.

Ciri looked at Geralt. It was the signal. Geralt drew his sword, as did the other Witchers. The girl observed as each one of them pulled out a bottle, a potion, and quickly swallowed it. The fearsome look they all displaced upon drinking their potion always struck Ciri.

Suddenly, Geralt cried out a loud battle cry. Leaping from his perch, he descended upon the archers with his companions. Swords slashing, they began to cut them down.

Ciri did what she could. Thanks to her mentors' instruction, she'd become quite handy with portals. She opened one, over and over, every time a soldier stumbled or fell backward, they fell right into Ciri's portal, which sent them careening into the valley below.

In desperation, an officer called for one more round of arrows. "Pull!" He shouted. Hundreds of arrows released and Ciri watched, her stomach falling as the arrows shot through the sky, heading straight toward Tissaia.

********************

At the bridge, Tissaia worked hard to hold the shield. She hated to admit it, but she was beginning to tire. When Stregobor began to use his magic to try to punch a hole in her shield, her resolve waivered.

He struck at the translucent shield with all his might and it felt like a gut punch to Tissaia. She held, absorbing the hits. Her magic began to feel weak. It was something she'd felt before, almost like being shackled with…

Tissaia gasped as she remembered the bottle. Extending one arm out as far as she could, she held the barrier in place. Another hit from Stregobor and she winced. Reaching into her pocket, she found the bottle, filled with the dimeritium vapor.

She stared ahead. It took all her focus to open up a window. She peered at the spot, near the foot of the bridge. Gaze fixed on it, she tilted her head and opened a small break in the shield. With a cry, she threw the bottle and guided it through the space with her magic. Both hands in control of the shield again, she closed the gap.

The sorceress watched triumphantly as the bottle smashed. Stregobor and Vilgefortz breathed in the cloud of dimeritium and stumbled backward. Her foe's blasts of magic against the shield ceased as he struggled to breath and Tissaia maintained her control over the shield, despite the soldiers still trying to break through.

Looking to the north, she saw the scorched land of the ridge line. Yennefer had done it. Snapping her head around, she watched giant logs piling upon themselves as the forest came down on top of the battalion. Triss had succeeded as well. She knew Ciri and Geralt were taking care of the archers. It was time to destroy these as well.

Through her weariness, Tissaia looked past the shield. She looked through the transparent blue until all she saw was the mountain. Layers of rock, one on top of the other. She had the soldiers trapped behind the shield. Time to crush them.

One hand holding the barrier, Tissaia reached out with the other and began to take hold of the mountain. One piece at a time, she could feel it.

Then, a sudden sound came to her ear. Far away, getting louder. Her heart sank as she recognized the whistle of arrows. Eyes still fixed on the mountain, hard reality hit her. She couldn't do it all. Hold the shield, pull down the mountain, and stop the arrows, it was impossible.

Her brain moved a hundred miles an hour, working through solutions, until she came to one final resolution. She must destroy this army, no matter the cost. The whistle grew closer and Tissaia closed her eyes, allowing herself half a second to remember her lover's face. Soft skin, eleven orbs, hair as dark as night against a creamy complexion. She remembered tender words, you don't have to be alone anymore.

Eyelids flying open again, Tissaia drew one last breath and braced every muscle. This mountain was coming down. She took a step forward, connecting with the earth. Then, the first arrow landed, mere feet in front of her. Tissaia began to close her first and a great rumbling started. The second arrow hit, closer, catching and ripping a hole in the skirt of her dress. She wasn't deterred.

Then suddenly, a flash beside her. With her arms still outstretched, fighting for control of her chaos, her gaze shot around. Air caught in her lungs. There, next to her, was Yennefer of Vengerberg, covered in soot and sweat and more beautiful than Tissaia had ever seen her.

Another flash and Yennefer threw a barrier up around them. Arrows began to requichet off it, flying every which way. Yennefer gave her a small encouraging smile through her tiredness.

"Finish it," she told Tissaia.

Resolve set, the sorceress turned her attention back to the ground in front of the bridge. The soldiers were in a frenzy, throwing themselves against the shield, trying to break through, even though the only thing in front of them was a deep ravine and a narrow bridge. Stregobor and Vilgefortz watched her, still trying to draw breath. They were out of this fight and they knew it.

Hesitation gone, bolstered by Yennefer's saving presence, Tissaia let go of the shield. In the same moment she took hold of the mountain with all her power. Her fists snapped closed and she pulled. What was a rumbling became a loud breaking. Plumes of dust and dirt exploded into the air as millennia of pressure was released. The mountain began to break apart. Huge boulders the size of Kaer Morhen itself descended toward the ravine. Soldiers cried out as they tumbled like dominos into the depth. The trebuchets were easily crushed, along with their operators.

Then the rocks began to hit the bridge. Tissaia's senses were leaving her. Were they safe? She couldn't tell any longer. Strong arms wrapped around her torso.

"Tissaia, let go!" Yennefer shouted.

All Tissaia could do was let go. Her strength finally left her. Arms falling at her sides, the woman's entire body went limp. Her ears caught the sound of crumbling rock, loud, but somehow far away.

Light burst to the side of her vision. A portal. Yennefer was pulling her. She tried to help, but couldn't. The mountain continued to collapse and Tissaia watched as the bridge toppled with the felling of a massive stone. Just then, the portal closed behind them.

Tissaia felt cold grass on the back of her neck. Her eyes were only slits, barely open. There were high walls. They were in the courtyard.

"Tissaia." A voice said her name. It seemed slowed down somehow. "Tissaia, look at me."

She tried, but everything was a blur. Next, a shock of white hair and she was scooped off the ground. Tissaia's cheek collapsed against the black leather of the armor on Geralt's shoulder.

********************

Brain began connecting to body. Breathing in, breathing out. Warmth. Toes twitched. She tried to wiggle a finger, then lay unmoving again. Every muscle in her body was relaxed, like after the soundest sleep. She stayed still. Was she alive?

There was a brightness on the other side of her closed eyelids. The sun only shown in her chamber in the morning. Was it morning? Had she been asleep a day? Longer? As much as Tissaia didn't want to move, curiosity got the better of her.

Slowly, emerald eyes blinked open. Yes, she was in her room. A down blanket lay on top of her. Trying to sit, the woman realized how tired she still was. She hadn't pushed her power that far in ages. There was a lingering exhaustion.

Pausing, she listened. Her eyes darted around, waiting for a sound. An army still outside, drums sounding another invasion. But all was quiet. More quiet than she'd ever heard Kaer Morhen, in fact. Tissaia took it as a good sign, though she wondered where everyone was.

She whispered, "Yennefer," and tried to reach out with her mind. It was foggy, hard to focus, but the woman's presence was nearby. Tissaia sighed in relief.

Pushing away the tiredness she sat up further. Then noticed her clothes, neatly folded on a chair. Her brow pinched when she saw an unknown object laying on top. Pulling herself from the bed, the mage went to the chair. Examining the object, her face softened.

There, waiting for her on top of her dress, was a medallion. A new one. Silver, she could tell. Round, with a beautiful flower displayed prominently at the center. Feainnewedd, the Elder Blood flower. Smiling a little, Tissaia picked it up. Geralt must have worked all through the night on it, a stunning piece, and a welcomed gift.

Tissaia dressed quickly, forgetting the weariness and fueled with a need to see her friends, make sure everyone was alright. She pulled her hair up, a few errant curls escaping. Then, she clasped the necklace around her neck and looked in the mirror. It was perfect. Something that represented her true self, that she'd tried to hide for so long. Now she could wear it proudly.

Coming into the passageway, the mage reached out again. Laughter echoed in her head. The fires in the great hall were burning. Everyone was there. Tissaia wound through the halls until she could hear it for herself. Coming to the door, she hesitated. She only hoped they were all there and all safe.

She pushed against the heavy door and slipped into the room. Glancing around quickly, the mage took stock. Counting the Witchers one by one, a bright blond head of hair among them. She gasped in relief. Ciri was there and she was alright. Triss was off to the side, eating with a couple of them. She was smiling and it made Tissaia smile. Continuing to scan the room, her eyes fell on the farthest table. Geralt was there, stone faced as ever. Beside him, a dark haired beauty, eyes like a field of lilac. Tissaia held tears back.

Just then, all sound in the place ceased. She looked around to see all eyes on her. A flush came to her cheeks. Suddenly, the room erupted in cheers. Her heartbeat quickened in surprise, hand flying to her chest. But when she understood the cheers were for her, Tissaia smiled broadly.

Ciri was the first to rush to her, pulling her into a tight hug. Triss's bright grin greeted her next, and every Witcher took a turn patting her on the back. It felt good, like she belonged. It felt like family.

Vesemir said something about not hogging all the glory next time, and Ciri clung to her. But when Yennefer approached, the happy chatter stopped. Their eyes met and Tissaia could swear she had to will her heart to keep beating. The woman looked as if she might cry herself.

One by one, people began to leave the room, offering the two a moment. Geralt passed her on his way out and stopped next to her. She looked up at him. If she knew he could smile, he might be doing it now. His eyes floated down to the medallion and back to her gaze.

"Looks good on you," he said.

Voice catching, she replied, "Thank you… my friend." Then he was gone too.

The two women were left alone. The only sound was the crackling of the fire pits and the pounding Tissaia could hear in her ears. Her restless heart was in her throat.

Yennefer stepped closer. Neither could seem to form any words. The taller one's smokey eyes beckoned Tissaia and she also took an unconscious step closer.

Reaching for her, Yennefer gently took her hand, holding it lightly. Her thumb stroked the back of it and Tissaia closed her eyes. The touch was simple, yet breathed fresh life into the sorceress.

Opening her eyes, Tissaia finally spoke. "You saved me."

Yennefer gave a tiny shake of her head. "No," she said, barely above a whisper. She couldn't seem to say anymore.

Tissaia couldn't take the small distance between them anymore. She surged forward, throwing her arms around the woman's shoulders and pulling her as close as she could. Yennefer responded, wrapping herself around Tissaia's torso, face buried in her neck. They held on tight and Tissaia took in the soft scent of Yennefer's hair.

Coming apart only enough to press their foreheads together, both struggled to hold it together through their emotions.

Finally, Yennefer said quietly, "What you did out there was extraordinary."

Tissaia lifted her head from its spot against Yennefer's, drawing the woman's gaze. Bright eyes, as deep purple as the Feainnewedd flower, stayed on emerald ones.

One side of her lips turning up slightly, Tissaia whispered, "Will you just kiss me so I know I'm truly alive?"

Yennefer breathed out a small laugh before pressing her lips to Tissaia's. The smaller woman slipped her hands around the back of Yennefer's neck, pulling her impossibly close. Their kisses quickly deepened and when their tongues touched, Tissaia felt it to her toes. She wanted to stay like this forever. Yennefer in her arms was the greatest thing she'd ever felt.

Desperate contact slowed to affectionate touches, until Tissaia's lips were kiss swollen and she was more content than ever. They rested against each other happily.

Tissaia's lips tickled Yennefer's neck as she observed, "You stayed in control this time."

The raven haired mage pulled back to look at her. Eyes flitting across Tissaia's features, she replied, "I had an anchor this time."

"An anchor?" Tissaia placed a soft kiss at Yennefer's bottom lip.

Eyelids fluttering at the small kiss, Yennefer told her, "I was always so angry. I always thought the only thing that could fill the void was more power." Her hands slid to take Tissaia's. "Somehow I could become powerful enough to fix everything that had gone wrong in my life." She shook her head to herself, glancing away. "But I couldn't. You tried to help me understand that and I pushed you away."

The former rectoress reached her hands to pale cheeks. "It's alright. We all have to find our own path."

Yennefer tugged the woman closer. "Our paths brought us together time and again, until I finally took the hint." She pressed her mouth lightly to the mage's. "I've never felt peace until we were together. It gave me the strength I needed."

Tissaia smiled softly. "I love you."

Yennefer returned the grin. "I love you, too."

Another solid kiss and Tissaia finally pulled away. With a purposeful breath she smoothed her hands over the front of her dress. "Well, now, we should get back to work."

"Hmm," Yennefer hummed. "We do have a bridge to rebuild."

Tissaia looked at her. "What happened to it?"

The other woman's jaw dropped. "You don't remember completely destroying it?"

The two women linked arms and turned toward the door. "You'll have to show me, I suppose."

Yennefer's tone was teasing. "You'd think if such a great sorceress can freeze two dozen giant boulders in the air and toss them back where they came from, she'd be able to stop a mountain from collapsing onto a bridge."

They pulled the door open together and began to walk down the hallway toward the courtyard. "Maybe she was tired," Tissaia teased back.

"I thought you didn't get tired."

Tissaia chuckled and leaned her head at Yennefer's shoulder as they walked. There wasn't much that was certain ahead of them. But one thing Tissaia knew to be sure - she and Yennefer would be facing whatever it was together.