Kaer Morhen was especially cold today, and the clouds heading North were clearly full of more snow that would continue to make the Winter unbearable in this fortress. At least for Yennefer it would, who was observing the weather from outside the gates, looking across the snowy continent laid out before her in dismay.
It had not always been like this for Yennefer. When she was younger her days at the fortress was filled with happiness and learning. Those times had fed her soul with so much knowledge she would always recount them fondly. But then, it had not been winter, and she was no longer young.
She knew she was not going to find what she was looking for. Vesemir knew this too, as he watched her from the upper levels of the keep. He was not fond of her going out alone to watch. She was a witch, she was chaos, Vesemir always thought. Yennefer had no business wasting time. Especially not after the past few days.
Despite feeling the eyes of Vesemir on her, Yennefer moved not an inch. Maybe she would see what she was looking for soon, before she was called back inside. He would come soon, she thought.
"Yenna," Vesemir called fondly, using the nickname everyone else but Him used. "Come back inside my dear, a storms coming in, it's too cold."
"I'll be two seconds," Yennefer called back. Again, she did not move.
Vesemir sighed and retreated back inside. He would not push her, they both had an unspoken understanding, and Yennefer was no longer as young as she had been when she was under Vesemir's care.
Yennefer turned to walk back through the gate too quickly and hit her arm off the frame. Stinging pain shot through her arm and she knew she had ripped the stitches Vesemir had so carefully done. The gnash that ran down the top of her arm and snaked down her forearm, missing her elbow by a fraction, was only a few days old.
The hot blood was running down her arm, she could feel it. The top of it had definitely been caught, she knew. Yennefer ran her left hand down the sleeve of her right arm, feeling the warmth of the blood, the magic coming to her fingers as if ready to be called upon to fix the situation. Magic was not an option for Yennefer right now, she did not want to be tracked, and she definitely had a bounty on her head right now. Those at Aretuza would be forced to locate Yennefer, forced to feel for her magic at every corner of the continent.
Yennefer almost let out a laugh at the thought of being called a 'lawbreaker' by the same people who once called her 'divine'. It was bullshit at that place, all of Aretuza was made out of shit and everyone would know why soon enough.
Yennefer sighed as the laugh faded away. She was unsure whether she would get the chance to expose Aretuza, or if Tissaia would get the same chance.
It definitely was time to go back inside and get Vesemir to look at the wound as her sleeve was covered in blood. Yet Yennefer found herself oddly happy she felt the pain, happy that there was some proof what happened a few days ago had really happened.
The previous nights were filled with glimpses of those bedsheets, the grand hall, her dress that smelt of lavender. However, it was always the death, the screaming and then the burning in her arm that inevitably woke Yennefer. It was as though her own mind was trying to convince her that there was no happy ending that night, and she did not get what she had always wanted. But the law of surprise had been claimed, she had been claimed, and she needed Him to return for her.
Both him and Tissaia had to come back and do what they had promised.
Yennefer had only ever dreamed of becoming important to someone one day, and when it happened she had never thought it possible to feel so loved. He was her world, and she was His.
As Yennefer walked back inside Kaer Morhen in the falling snow, she vowed her own happiness would continue, and she would fight for which she was now bound: destiny.
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A/N Forget previous plot points from the book or television as I intend to combine, expand and recreate stories.
