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Yennefer's hands shook. Not even the thick, blue fabric of the student’s gown scrunched between her fingers could stifle the trembling movements.
Sitting stiffly with her head ducked, Yennefer’s shoulders rolled as far forward as her hunch would allow to hide her ashen features behind the rough-cut curtain of her dark fringe. Heart racing beneath her breast, the anxious girl tried to stymie the worst of her nervous breaths.
Yennefer was painfully certain that the other novices, at least, could hear the short puffs of air. Each one wavering on the edge of pure panic, as they passed her crooked lips. The only mercy was that, new as she was, the girls did not appear to realize the sound was her terror and not merely an artifact of her twisted mouth.
It was of incredibly little consolation.
Yennefer forced down the low, distressed noise that longed to slip past her tongue. Her crooked jaw clenched tightly as sweat prickled at her brow.
She had no idea what to do.
After, with no small amount of humiliation, being forced to return to an afternoon of more failures like she had when trying to lift the forsaken stone in the greenhouse? Yennefer had little choice but to accompany the other novices to the meal hall. Trailing behind, she hesitantly sat at the very end of the table, foreign though it felt.
It had been many years since Yennefer had sat at a table. Had been allowed to eat with another person. When they were very young - too young to have realized the risk it posed of incurring their father's wrath - some of Yennefer's half-siblings had occasionally munched on an apple or bread roll with her in the pigpen. The last time that had happened was at least three Velen past.
Yennefer’s aching stomach clenched again, painfully reminding her of the ravenous hunger that lingered there. Well used to subsisting on scraps and spoilage as she was, Yennefer had never eaten overmuch. However, the day's stress and new lessons, combined with the upheaval and subsequent blood loss of the day before, had left her famished.
Still, despite the vicious gnawing in her guts, Yennefer could not shake the paralysis that gripped her.
There was a place setting with utensils for eating in front of her. Instruments Yennefer had not touched in more than passing for the majority of her life. Though there was mercifully only one of each, and they looked to be made of pewter rather than a more extravagant silver, Yennefer could feel her despair rising.
Scarcely as she'd touched them, Yennefer had none of the naturalness she saw in the other girls as they readily began their meals. Even the simple plate and goblet sitting before her were enough to set Yennefer's heart racing. Violet eyes furtively noted the poised way Sabrina lifted her goblet after the blonde had easily filled it from the pitcher of water in the middle of the table.
Yennefer's stomach rolled as she imagined the disaster her own attempt at such a movement would be. Crooked lips twisted into a fiercer grimace as Yennefer mentally added the challenge of serving herself from the dishes. Her heart lurched as her violet gaze wearily swept over the platters and bowls - though not ornate or lavish, the fare was far beyond any Yennefer had eaten before.
Cooked food had been a rarity in Yennefer's short life. And it had certainly not been hot when she received it.
Not for the crooked girl.
Yennefer’s meals consisted of whatever she could scrabble out of the slop before the pigs devoured it all. Many nights and days, Yennefer had been forced to roam as far as she could to the fence. Plucking leaves of mint and sucking them as long as she could to quash the aching hunger that twisted her small stomach.
Everything about her current situation was ridiculous, Yennefer thought with a quiet sort of mania. She did not belong among these people. This formality and finery. Unthinkingly, Yennefer's thoughts turned to the finest thing in the whole place: the wretched, beautiful, cold, mysterious woman who had brought her to it.
Violet eyes shut against the burn of overwhelmed tears as Yennefer's crooked jaw clenched impossibly tighter. She should have let me die, Yennefer thought viciously.
Wrists throbbing as her hands unconsciously fisted tighter into the thick fabric of her gown, Yennefer's eyes fluttered open. Her heart had not stopped racing. Her ribs felt too tight for the expansion of her lungs, and her skin felt clammy as she tried to summon the will to move.
Gods, she couldn't do this.
She should just flee like she had the greenhouse. Surely, eventually, she could find the kitchens? Perhaps the greenhouse would have some mint she could suck on in the meantime? Anything would be better than this impending catastrophe of humiliation.
Before she could begin to rise, however, Yennefer froze as a familiar voice suddenly filled her mind, 'Sit.'
Violet eyes widened and shot to the staff table where, to Yennefer’s horror, piercing blues gazed unflinchingly back. New terror crashed through Yennefer's heart.
Gods.
Fuck.
Melitele above.
The Rectoress was in her mind.
Seemingly unbothered by her spiralling thoughts, the Rectoress's voice continued calmly, 'Piglet though you may be, you are not an animal, girl. You shall dispense of your notions of foraging and fleeing immediately.'
A shiver clamoured up the crooked path of Yennefer's spine as her eyes widened. The commanding tone brooked no argument, and yet, though her rebellious heart wanted to chafe, Yennefer couldn't help the trickle of warmth the words pressed into her chest.
You are not an animal.
The words seemed to burrow into her heart, treacherously planting seeds of appreciation despite the frigid woman's callousness when Yennefer first woke. It had been a terribly long time since anyone had openly thought so.
'If you are unfamiliar with what to do, watch the other girls. Sabrina, Lark and Fringilla all come from affluent families. Copy their movements until they become natural to you.' Tissaia's voice instructed curtly. 'You are correct in your assessment of your own physical health. Poorly as you are, I will not tolerate you skipping meals, Piglet.'
Pink crept up Yennefer's cheeks as shame burned through her at the brunette's blunt assessment. Violet eyes widened minutely as, tone seeming to soften the barest amount, the Rectoress added, 'I would advise sticking to more bland foods until your body adjusts to regular meals. The dish to your left is a simple stew. Start there.' To Yennefer's astonishment, she saw a brief flash of an image behind her eyes of the hand motion required to serve the food in question.
Struck by what might be madness, Yennefer fervently thought, 'Thank you.'
Yennefer could swear the presence in her mind felt momentarily warm before the Rectoress replied simply, 'You have much to learn, Piglet. Do not let your fear consume you.'
Lashes fluttering as she rapidly blinked, Yennefer absently realized what the Rectoress was referring to. The same concepts she had emphasized in their very first lesson that morning: Balance and control. As she moved to follow the brunette's instructions and serve herself, though the Rectoress's face remained impassive as ever, Yennefer couldn't help but think she felt the slightest impression of approval as the presence in her mind rescinded.
With a steadied breath, Yennefer moved to begin eating. She could do this.