Ok, so I lied; the actual confrontation between Geralt and Val isn't going to happen until the next chapter so for now they're just kind of staring angrily at each other. But there's a lot of Good Shit in here so hopefully it'll make up for that lol –Bel

A Wolf Among Lilacs
Part One: Longing/Regret
Chapter Eleven: Out of the Equation

The drive back to Oxenfurt seemed far shorter than the drive from it had been, though Geralt attributed that partially to the anger still pulsing through him, blurring the hours together. They didn't trek back out of the ravine—Yennefer opened a portal and they went through one by one, despite Geralt's complaints. He had offered to drive, to satisfy his need to do something with his hands, get his mind off things. "Yennefer," he'd said, "do you want to—?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, pulling herself into the passenger seat with disconcerting speed. She had discarded her tattered shirt for a black tank top, though she kept his hoodie on, pulling her hands inside the sleeves as she curled up on the seat, and he didn't have the heart to ask for it back. Regis and Dandelion sat in the middle, and Dorregaray in the back, fuming silently. Geralt wasn't sure what reason he had to be upset—they hadn't killed the dragon, after all—but he thought it would be better if he didn't ask.

She didn't say anything for most of the drive, just stared out the window, running her fingertips over her wrists in silence. There was already a sizable welt raising between her eyebrows, a few shades darker than the rest of her skin. She'd kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up underneath her, wincing when the movement tugged at the bandages around her ankles. Halfway through the drive, Dandelion put on music through his phone and started singing. It only took a couple of poorly-timed songs for Yennefer to throw up a ward between them and the rest of the car.

"Thank the gods," Geralt said. "I've been waiting for someone to do that for as long as I've known him."

Yennefer made a choked sound that he hoped was a laugh. In the absence of background noise, she drummed the tips of her fingers along the center console. "But you're still his friend."

"Once you get to know him, he's not so bad." Geralt wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to defend him, considering the things he'd been saying about her—to her—only a few hours ago. "He's just—"

"Insensitive? I'd figured that much out."

They fell silent. Yennefer rested her head on the window next to her, letting herself be jostled by the bumps in the road. He tried to focus on what was in front of him, but he found his gaze continually drawn back to her—her tired, somewhat vacant stare, the way she ran her fingers along the edge of her star, something he'd noticed she did often.

"Are you alright?" he asked after a few minutes, unable to stand the way she looked. She blinked a few times, like he'd startled her out of something, but she didn't so much as glance over.

"Truly?" He nodded. A smile curved along the edge of her lips. "I've never been better."

He didn't know what she meant, and she offered no explanation—just pulled the hood up on his jacket, leaned her head back against the window, and appeared to fall asleep for the remainder of the drive. The ward she'd put up slowly faded and dissolved, and he was surprised to see Dandelion, looking slightly regretful, sitting quietly behind Yennefer. Regis, when he caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, looked worried (he'd looked worried for the past several hours), and Dorregaray had an expression on his face Geralt didn't like at all. Whatever he was planning, it couldn't possibly bode well for him.

They pulled into the complex's parking lot just as it was getting dark, but he could still clearly see Triss, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited outside the door to their stairwell that led up to her apartment, and Yennefer's. A look of relief crossed her face when she saw them, and the van had barely stopped when she was at the passenger side door, opening it and pulling a tired Yennefer to her feet. They embraced in a motion that should have been clumsy but was instead the opposite, and he was surprised, given the tension he so often sensed between them, at the unaffected way they curled around each other, ignoring the slamming of doors around them as everyone else stood. He could hear them whispering softly, but the moment went as quickly as it had come.

"Did one of you call Val?" Triss said as they pulled apart. Yennefer's mouth opened slightly, closed again, and she leaned back against the car with her hand over her forehead, eyes closed. "Because he and Phil and Cir—Falka," she corrected herself, looking suspiciously at Dorregaray, "are all in my apartment and they're about to rip each others' throats out."

She remained silent for a few seconds—Geralt saw the diamonds on her neck pulse brighter, briefly—and then she straightened up and turned to Dorregaray, eyes blazing. "I don't know, did one of us call Val? Even when I specified not to?"

"He would've found out anyway, my dear." Geralt had a sudden, intense desire to re-break Dorregaray's nose, but before he'd even moved Regis had a hand on his arm, casually holding him back—and he had the strength for it, too. "Better to tell him now." He spoke in a way that made it clear he thought Yennefer knew nothing about the man she was engaged to, which Geralt thought was ridiculous. True, he'd never heard her speak about him, but he'd assumed that was for other reasons, and she hadn't seemed overly fond of other people asking about him, either.

"Actually, it would've been better for me to tell him later than for you to tell him now," she sighed, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She pushed past Geralt without look at him directly and pulled open the door somewhat violently. His medallion vibrated slightly—it was as if he could feel the anger radiating off her in waves. She clearly wasn't going to wait for any of them, so Geralt followed her up the stairs and through Triss's door, which she opened in much the same way as she had the previous one.

And without warning, without even a second to breathe, they were accosted by Ciri.

"You're back!" she shouted, and put one arm around each of them, pulling them impossibly close. He could hear Yennefer's quickening heartbeat, her surprised intake of breath; he could smell her perfume. After a moment Ciri pulled away from him and embraced Yennefer even tighter, a gesture that spoke volumes, as did Yennefer's hands coming up to tightly grip Ciri's shoulders. Geralt wondered what had happened while they'd been gone—there was a tension in the set of Ciri's jaw that he hadn't seen before.

"You were gone longer than we thought you'd be," Philippa said, far more calmly, as Regis and Dorregaray filed into the room behind Geralt. Dandelion, it seemed, had vanished, but Geralt's attention was suddenly held by a man in the corner of the room, who'd stepped forward as Ciri let go of Yennefer. His brown hair was tied up so it would stay out of his watery grey eyes, and Geralt recognized him immediately, even though he didn't want to. He grabbed Yennefer's hand, tugged her back gently so her shoulders rested under his arm. A possessive gesture, one that made her tense up, though he had nothing to worry about. If that was what he was like all the time, it was no wonder he'd never heard Yennefer talk about him.

"We ran into some trouble." Anyone who didn't know Regis well wouldn't have heard how he was trying to sound nonchalant, but Geralt did, and he knew Yennefer did too. She shifted her weight and looped her arms around herself, around where the tear in her shirt had been. The action clearly hadn't gone unnoticed by Val, whose eyes grew narrower the longer he looked at her—her stance, the bruises and cuts that dotted her skin. Geralt's jacket, which fell to the tops of her thighs. He must've known where it came from, or guessed.

"It seems you did." He reached up and brushed a fingertip across the cut on Yennefer's forehead. She jerked away quickly, but that didn't deter him from continuing to scrutinize every scratch he could see. "What happened? I know…some things" —he paused briefly to lock eyes with Dorregaray— "but I haven't heard the whole story."

"And you won't," Yennefer said shortly. It seemed as though everyone else in the room had stepped back, not wanting to be in the middle of the argument. Triss was chewing on her bottom lip nervously. "It's over. The project failed. And we've both got work to do. So we put it behind us."

He looked surprised at her evasiveness, and Geralt had to hold back a satisfied grin. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what kind of person Val was—the same as every other sorcerer he'd met, and most of the sorceresses too (compared with most mages, Yennefer was the picture of humility). That clearly didn't discourage him, though—Geralt had the feeling he could find any number of things about the situation worthy of complaint. "You should've at least let me come with you, Yenna. Things would've gone more smoothly then."

"Yes," Yennefer replied dryly, "then we'd both be lying at the bottom of a ravine because you don't have anything even remotely resembling physical strength."

Things were quiet for a moment, and then Ciri started laughing so hard she had to sit down. Most of the others, he noticed, were at least smiling somewhat, and he could read amusement even in the tilt of Yennefer's lips, but Dorregaray, standing against the wall, was frowning deeply, and Val had closed his hand around Yennefer's arm tightly, just below her shoulder. He spoke to her softly, using the other-language trick Geralt had seen her employ with Regis a number of times, but he didn't need to understand the words to see how angry they were making her. She responded irately, at a normal speaking volume, and everyone fell silent. Regis had his eyebrows raised in surprise. Geralt wondered what she'd said.

Ciri's eyes were wide, and so were Val's, but before he could even try and respond, they were interrupted by someone furiously honking their horn outside. "Hey, asshole!" a very familiar voice yelled. "Don't park here if you don't live here!"

"I think he means you," Yennefer said into the ringing silence that followed, looking at Val. For a few moments, they stared each other down, but when the noise started back up he reluctantly dug out his keys and left, muttering something about how he'd be back in a few minutes. Dorregaray followed him, and a wide grin broke out on Yennefer's face as the door clicked shut behind them.

"Thank you, Regis," she said, laughter on the tip of her tongue, and Geralt realized who the voice belonged to—Dandelion. He was curious to know what Regis had said to get him to do it. Regis himself only nodded, sharing a knowing look with Yennefer. "Did he happen to say how long he'll be here?"

"Until he's sure you're okay." Philippa rolled her eyes, and Yennefer swore quietly.

"That means at least a week. Well—excuse me a moment, then. I've got to move some things."

She left, and a second later Geralt heard her unlock her own door. Those who remained looked at each other uncomfortably, eyes flitting from person to person, until Triss finally said "Do you think we should tell her?"

"She'll find out eventually, whether we tell her or not," Philippa replied.

"Tell her what?" Regis asked.

Ciri and Philippa looked at each other for a long few seconds. "We went to Aretuza," Philippa said slowly. "Ciri and I. And, well—the room's still in terrible condition; at this point I doubt there's anything anyone can do about it. The blood ward, however, remains quite strong, and it also let Ciri right through it."

"Did it really?" Regis turned to Ciri with a look in his eyes Geralt had only seen before when he talked about his research. "That's fascinating. So what you're saying is it somehow recognized the bond between you despite no actual shared blood?"

"That has to be it. There's no other way it would've—"

She stopped as the door opened again and Yennefer appeared, holding a long, flat box, which she reluctantly handed off to Triss. It was grey and unmarked, and she didn't offer any explanation as she retreated to stand a few feet away from Geralt. "What did I miss?" she asked calmly, but he saw how her hands shook.

"The ward let Ciri through," Triss said quickly, like she was trying to get it over with. He knew the look of surprise that would be on Yennefer's face—he'd seen it often enough in the past few days—but not the way her eyes shone for a moment before she recomposed herself.

"It did?" Ciri shifted, turning around on the couch so she could face Yennefer, and nodded. "I haven't been there since…since it was put in place, I suppose." She bit her lip, pushed her hair behind her ear. "What's it like now?"

Ciri waited a minute to answer. There was a tension in the air now, one that everyone seemed to recognize except Geralt. They were all looking at her expectantly. "Cold," she finally said.

Yennefer let out a short laugh. "It's the middle of autumn."

"That doesn't matter! If you can construct a barrier that strong, you could at least make it warm in there!"

"Tissaia put it up, not me." Yennefer briefly turned away from most of the group, but the angle at which he stood meant Geralt saw her smile, just for a second—a real smile, not one of the close-lipped, almost painful grins she frequently directed at him. He was stunned by the difference it made on her—on her whole being. But the expression passed quickly, and she withdrew back into herself. "You're welcome to ask her about it, though."

The door opened at the worst moment. He'd just seen her face shift before, but seeing the way she changed now—suddenly far more closed-off, guarded—hurt. So when Val came back in, sans Dorregaray, Geralt slipped out, and nobody said anything as he left. The landing was empty, but Yennefer's door was still open, and as he started to go down the stairs he was stopped by Keira calling him in a tone that somehow sounded both seductive and annoyed. He hadn't seen her in weeks, hadn't answered her messages, and he wasn't sure if he should even acknowledge that he'd heard her, but the unidentifiable anger coursing through his head made the decision for him. After all, he thought, he had to do something.

~oOo~

"How long until he realizes you're not coming back?"

"Oh, he'll figure it out soon enough." Yennefer had never had any problem making herself at home wherever Regis happened to be living, and this apartment was no exception. There was a distinct lack of beds on the place, considering neither he nor Dettlaff needed to sleep, so she'd constructed a nest of blankets on the large armchair and ottoman in the corner of the living room. They both knew she would have to move in the morning. Val would figure out where she'd been, and he already liked him the least of Yennefer's friends. He knew something had happened in the past. He didn't know what, but her reluctance to talk about it, and the fact that she'd been sixteen at the time, had clearly led him to assume the worst. Regis almost found it amusing—nothing could be further from the truth.

"So," he said, leaning forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers laced. "You're going to go through with it."

Yennefer looked up from the notebook she'd been doing calculations in for the past hour or so. She'd started the moment she realized financial ruin was going to be less of a worry than she thought, and hadn't stopped since. It would, she acknowledged, set her back a great deal, but by now she was willing to pay any price. Besides, she'd make up for the loss quickly, with the steady stream of clients her practice brought in. Women she would give the one thing she herself couldn't have.

She flipped the notebook closed and sat it on the end table beside her, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I don't feel," she said carefully, weighing every word, "like I've got much of a choice at this point. We've been at this for what—ten, eleven years? And we're still no closer than when we started."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not necessarily true. We've discovered quite a bit."

"But nothing that will help me." She sighed, tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Perhaps…perhaps it's time we tried a different route."

He never knew quite what to do when she was in one of these moods, and it was even more difficult to figure out after what had happened, now that she had some small sliver of hope. He didn't want to be the one to dash it, but he knew no one else would be willing to bring it up. "Have you ever considered moving on to something else altogether?"

When she looked at him incredulously, he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Let me finish," he said, and after a tense minute she nodded. "We've been at this for eleven years. And in all that time we haven't found anything that could even come close to undoing the magic used on you. It's strong, Yenna. Stronger than anything you can do to it."

They knew that painfully well—Yennefer had more innate power than any mage he'd come across, but even that was no match for the complexity of this particular spell. "But what if that's where we're going wrong?" she protested. "What we need might not require magic at all—"

"You said you'd let me finish."

She smiled a little, and tugged on the sleeve of Geralt's hoodie, which she hadn't taken off. He wasn't sure if she'd kept it on purely to annoy Val or for reasons she didn't want to admit, even to herself. He did know she wouldn't give it back unless Geralt asked, and that Geralt wouldn't ask. "I never said that," she replied, a lilt in her tone that reassured him she wasn't as angry as he'd expected her to be. "But go on."

He cleared his throat. "Right. Well. As I was saying, if we haven't been able to make any headway, I doubt any ordinary doctor will either. And if what I heard from Philippa earlier is true…then it appears you've already got a daughter."

She laughed bitterly as she slid down in the chair until she was laying in it, her hand over her face. The movement tugged at her tank top, pulling it up around her waist, but unlike earlier, she didn't hasten to pull it back down. She didn't much care if he saw the scar—he was the one who'd put it there. "I know," she said, and in those words was more pain than he'd ever heard. "Gods, I know. And I worry constantly about how this must affect her."

He'd been in this realm for hundreds of years—so many he'd almost lost count. But what had happened all that time ago, what he'd seen Yennefer go through, had been his first true experience with human fragility; at the least, it was the first to have such a personal impact. He'd helped plenty of Aretuza girls before—Tissaia kept his secret in exchange for his help—but none of them had been as close to death as she had been when he'd first seen her. When he'd seen her again three years later, tasked with being the one to tell her what had happened.

"She knows why you're doing it," he said gently, reaching over to cover her hand with his. "And she knows not to take it personally. It's been going on long before she entered the picture."

"Mmm." He couldn't see her face, but he could imagine the look on it. "If only some others could see it that way."

Triss. He knew enough to know that meant the conversation was over. She wouldn't talk about that, even to him. He stood, looked over at where she lay staring up, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Well," he said, despite the fact that he was treading dangerous waters, "you've got all the time in the world to figure that one out."

She didn't respond, but he saw the corner of her mouth turn up, and it would have to be enough. He wouldn't get any more out of her now. She'd have to deal with Val in the morning anyway; the whole thing had become a big, complicated mess. He turned off the ceiling light as he left the room—but, as always, he kept a lamp on.

Regis...is so good. he's so good and i love him. anyway, i'm doing some New Plot Stuff in the next chapter so that'll be fun, and once i finally get that first one-shot done i'm going to start working on the second one. the ideal time to post that would've been after the next chapter, but we all know that's not going to happen lol

in case anyone hasn't seen them, i did some headcanons over on my tumblr, and it was a good time. (the awal tag is always a good time, and there are memes in it, so you should definitely look at it)