uhhh sorry this is so late, by now a lot of y'all probably know what happened a week or so ago so i don't have to explain it lol, but i'll just say it's personal and leave it at that. this isn't a super action-heavy chapter but it's pretty important and i promise the lack of Things will be more than made up for in the next one. also a character finally shows up here who's been off-screen this entire time but i kinda already spoiled it in the tags like a week ago whoops –bel
A Wolf Among Lilacs
Part One: Longing/Regret
Chapter Sixteen: Forty Thousand Stars in the Evening
They were there for another full day before Yennefer had recovered enough for the nurses to be able to move her for scans, to find out whether or not the procedure had actually worked. They let her know a few hours in advance, and though she didn't respond any differently than she had to anything they'd said before, Geralt saw the sudden nervousness in how she sat a little straighter than she'd been. Since it seemed to work so well the last time, he slid his hand to cover hers (it more than covered hers—he'd become painfully aware of the thinness of her fingers), but this time she only looked at him, smiled a little, and pulled away. He'd been starting to wonder whether or not her apparent distaste for casual physical contact had stopped applying to him, and in that small action he had his answer.
She had one more visitor, who arrived only a few minutes before she was to leave, a man with black hair and a pale, drawn face. Geralt didn't recognize him, but Yennefer did, and seemed surprised to see him there. "Of all the people I thought would show up here," she said, laughing quietly, "you…well, you weren't even on the list."
"I hadn't planned on coming either," the man said, taking a seat in the chair Geralt wasn't currently occupying. "But I'm here on Regis's behalf. He wanted to be here himself, but considering the news you gave him last night, he wasn't sure that was the best idea."
Geralt had been around when she made the calls to Regis and Triss that morning, though he'd been unable to make out what their responses had been, which he suspected was due to her magically blocking him from hearing them. When he asked her about what was going on, she'd said "Nothing you need to know about, except that it's very bad." He was starting, more and more, to understand why Eskel had been so annoyed by her hiding things from him, but he did his best to stay patient with her.
"Why? Didn't think he'd be able to keep control of his temper?" She said it lightly, almost teasingly, but her voice was strained, and the man didn't seem fooled.
"Something like that." He leaned forward, fingers steeped in a gesture Geralt must have seen Regis make a hundred times. This, he realized, must be his roommate, the one who had caused so much trouble in Beauclair a couple of years back. It would also explain, to a certain degree, how he knew Yennefer, though not why she felt so comfortable around him. "He wanted me to tell you that if you wanted to…be under the radar for a while, he's happy to help you do that."
Yennefer laughed a little, and didn't meet his eyes. "That might be overreacting just a bit. Besides, it would raise more problems than it would solve." She leaned back on the bed and sighed. She'd been doing that a lot over the past day. "I've got to accept the nomination. People would ask too many questions if I turned it down."
"Why does that matter?" He shook his head. Geralt remembered that not all vampires were as comfortable with human interaction as Regis was, and didn't understand the societal norms as a consequence. Adding the politics of mages on top of that must have confused him to no end. He wouldn't see why she felt the need to keep up this front, but Geralt did, and with every passing minute he grew more and more apprehensive about the situation she was putting herself in.
"It matters because my reasons are private and need to stay that way." Yennefer didn't sound upset, merely tired. "If the wrong people found out about them, it would ruin me. Not to mention Triss, and Philippa, and Tissaia—my entire branch. And if I end up going down, I'd rather not take all of them with me."
He nodded. Yennefer's gaze shifted until she locked eyes with Geralt, and they looked at each other for several long seconds without saying anything. Something imperceptible had shifted between them, and that made him nervous. He didn't know if she'd heard what he said the night before. He hoped she hadn't, especially now that she already had so much to deal with.
The man looked as if he wanted to say more on the subject, but he was preempted by several people coming into the room to take Yennefer for scans. One of them was von Gratz, who awkwardly avoided eye contact with Geralt for reasons he didn't entirely understand. Yennefer looked nervous as they moved her, though he doubted anyone else would have noticed, and he tried to smile reassuringly even though he knew it would fall flat. A moment later she was gone, and the two of them were left alone.
The other man didn't seem much interested in talking, and Geralt was all too happy to remain silent. He pulled out his book and tried to read, but instead he ended up staring at the place where she had been. The room felt strangely empty without her—too large, almost. Nearly an hour passed before the man stood and excused himself. Geralt only grunted in acknowledgement. He didn't have the energy for anything even remotely resembling small talk.
Another hour went by with no news of Yennefer, then two. Sometime during the third hour he got a message from Triss asking about her. He didn't respond—he didn't know what he would even say. She messaged him two more times before she appeared to give up. Part of him felt guilty for ignoring her, but he didn't know what else to do. He'd never been in this situation before.
He remembered when Ciri had first come to stay at Kaer Morhen, back when the dreams still plagued her near-nightly, when more often than not she'd wake up screaming. There were some nights they wouldn't come right away, and Geralt would stay up in horrible anticipation, waiting for the moment her cries would begin. This felt like that, but far worse. He could always predict the outcome of Ciri's nightmares. He couldn't do the same here.
When it had been five hours since they took her away, they brought her back. Nothing looked particularly different about her, except for the fact that, as they shifted her back to the bed, she wouldn't quite look him in the eye, and she pressed her lips together more tightly than usual, like she was trying not to say something. He knew without needing to ask what they must have told her, and as they left the two of them alone, Geralt pulled one of the chairs up next to her, much like he'd done before. She didn't turn to him as she had; she simply stared at the wall. Her eyes looked nearly glassy, but he somehow knew she wouldn't let herself cry.
He put his hand on the edge of the bed, not moving any closer to her, just letting it rest there. After a few moments she reached out and took it, almost reluctantly. It felt like she didn't want to admit she needed the support, though he hoped she knew he was the last person who was going to judge her for it. Her hand felt smaller than it had before, like she was shrinking in on herself.
"I knew," she said hollowly, "that there was a chance it wouldn't work. A very high chance." She swallowed; he could hear her breathing deep, trying to stay in control of her physical reactions. For the most part, it seemed to be working, though her grip on his fingers had tightened. "I knew that everyone who told me this was a bad idea was right. But I did it anyway."
She had her star back, he noticed. He could see the chain she'd been wearing it on, though the thing itself was tucked under her gown. He couldn't remember her getting it back, but there was a decent chance he'd grabbed it out of her bag in one of the few brief interludes he'd actually left the room, to shower or get food. There was nothing preventing her from walking, though it was probably painful for her. But she wouldn't be wearing it if they hadn't given her the go-ahead, which meant either good or bad news. It was obvious then, if it hadn't been already, which one it was.
"I have a penchant for making bad decisions, Geralt of Rivia," she continued. There was something soft and cracked about her voice; it sounded like she was having trouble forcing the words out. "It's an unfortunate trait. One I hope I haven't passed on."
"You haven't," he said without pause. It was true that Ciri was impulsive, and always had been, but that had been there long before Yennefer entered the picture and besides, Ciri had turned out fine. There was something missing, something he felt he should've known by now, but after the news she'd just gotten, he'd be surprised if she so much as looked at him until they were back in Oxenfurt. Even now, she stared slightly to the right of him, her now-free hand curled loosely in a fist.
"I'd like to leave soon. Within the hour. They've cleared me to go; all I'd need to do is sign the paperwork." She paused, looked over at her bag, which sat next to the chair Geralt had more or less been occupying nonstop for the past two days. "You'll have to give me a moment."
He nodded, and stood. Movement felt foreign to him; the only times he'd left the room, besides to make use of the small private bathroom (which he felt didn't count—they were attached, after all) was to get food from the cafeteria a floor below, and he'd tried to do that as little as he could get away with. He worried about her being alone for too long. He was worrying about it now. "Yennefer—"
"Don't," she interrupted, wincing slightly, "say anything, please. Just…give me a moment." She repeated it so insistently that he felt he had to comply, much as he didn't want to. As he stepped out of the room and shut the door, he focused his senses, placing all his attention on what was happening inside.
He didn't hear anything that he would have considered out of the ordinary. That was what worried him most.
~oOo~
It took three days of her not answering his calls to decide that the situation warranted a surprise visit to Oxenfurt. He knew that Yenna didn't like the frequency with which he messaged and called her, knew that she thought he should be giving her more space and trust, but she'd always answered, no matter how annoyed she might be, or at least acknowledged his efforts in some way. And she wasn't purposely ignoring him either—she had absolutely no qualms about hitting 'ignore' before the first ring had even finished. No, something had happened. Something that prevented her from answering.
He portaled into her apartment in the early afternoon, landing in her bedroom, and what he saw when he looked around only confirmed his suspicion that something was wrong. The room itself was nearly spotless. Yenna wasn't a messy person by any means, but every time he'd visited before (not that that had been often) there was always something, some small detail that made it clear the place was lived-in. There was nothing like that now; everything appeared in place, which seemed suspicious to him.
But everything wasn't in its place. Some things were missing, as a second closer sweep of the room revealed to him. Small things, but important ones, like the green jar of glamarye that normally sat on the vanity. He'd never known her to go anywhere without it—but as he hurried into the front room to look out the window, her car was still in the lot. So she'd either portaled a fair distance, which was unlikely, or she wasn't alone.
The thought made him grit his teeth and he wasted no time leaving the apartment, locking the door with the key she'd reluctantly given him. He knocked on the door across the hall and waited, rocking back and forth on his heels in an effort to do something to release the sudden anger. It didn't work. He was about to knock again, louder and more insistent, when the door swung open and Cirilla was standing behind it.
She clearly wasn't happy to see him, an expression that was certainly mirrored on his own face. "Yennefer's not here," she said shortly, and moved to close the door. He stopped it with his foot, and she looked at him incredulously—gods, how many times had he seen that same expression over the past eleven years?
"Where is she, then?" he demanded. She rolled her eyes and opened the door again, just enough so that they could see each other, though she kept her hand on the knob. Wary of him. And she should be. They both knew what would happen if Yenna stepped too far in the wrong direction.
She huffed in exasperation. "She's in Novigrad."
There it was—his worst fear confirmed. He'd assumed that, after he'd made it clear how he felt about the whole thing, she would drop it. She wouldn't make the appointment. She knew full well how ridiculous she was being about the whole thing. It was an impossible dream, and a nonsensical one at that. By now, she should have accepted that to get certain gifts, she was required to give up others.
"Alone?" He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, let only the worry remain, though he had a feeling she'd see right through him. "You expect me to believe you all let her go off to Novigrad alone?" Her eyes narrowed; he realized triumphantly he'd struck a nerve. "That seems irresponsible of you," he continued, raising an eyebrow. "Considering you claim to care so much about her—"
"She's not alone," the girl snapped, her grip on the door frame tightening. "Do you really think anybody here would do that? Most of us have known her longer than you."
"You haven't." She didn't seem particularly fazed by him pointing this out. She had to know that the length of a relationship didn't always match the quality—why was she acting like it did? Instead of any expression indicating she agreed with his point, she was smirking slightly in a way that was all too familiar to him.
"No, I haven't," she said, tilting her head to the side just the slightest bit. "But I'm the only one."
For a moment he was speechless. It seemed to him that Yenna should have taught her better by now, that she would know not to talk to him like that. Before he could think of a response, she shoved his leg back forcefully until he could only see her through a small crack. "Go bother someone else," she said, and shut it in his face.
He stood, trying to process what had just happened. With a sinking feeling in his stomach came the realization that they were alike, she and Yenna, in all the worst ways. He could remember quite clearly how things had been in those first few months after she moved into the third floor of his home in Aedd Gynvael, under the guise of an apprenticeship. She'd made it quite clear that she wanted to be around him as little as possible, and though her desire for solitude seemed to worry others (Philippa Eilhart in particular had told him to check in on her far more frequently than even he would have), he felt he needed to do as she asked. Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with her that didn't revolve solely around research she would cut him off, and she'd never had any qualms about doing so rudely. He saw that now, in this girl she called her daughter.
But with Yenna, things had become different. With Yenna, something had changed—as something changed now, though this time for the worse.
He pulled the key back out of his pocket and unlocked her door, thankful that no one else was in her apartment. He'd have to leave soon, but not before he figured out some way to get in contact with her, one she'd be hard-pressed to ignore. And there were ways; she might be good at appearing calm no matter what was thrown at her, but he knew her too well. He knew what would get to her. And everything would return to normal. It had to.
He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from her desk and started to write.
~oOo~
They stopped only once on the way back from Novigrad, at a fast food restaurant barely a mile off the highway. She looked over at him with one eyebrow raised as he parked and shut off the car, and he understood her unasked question. The haste with which she'd dressed and packed told him clearly how little time she wanted this to take. He wouldn't admit it—he didn't want her to know—but his intention was to draw the return trip out as long as he possibly could. The idea of getting back to Oxenfurt and leaving her completely alone made something in his chest tighten with worry, and he suspected that she was aware, at least, of that much.
"I'm hungry," he said in response to her penetrating gaze. "And I need to stand. We've been driving for hours."
She didn't say anything, just bit her lip and turned away. After a moment, she nodded, and he got out of the truck, locking it behind him. He had wanted her to come with him—thinking that, maybe, the air, the movement, would do her good—but as he ducked inside, he found he was relieved to have a few moments to himself. He pulled out his phone and dialed Triss's number.
She answered before the first ring was even through. He wondered if she'd been waiting for him to call back. "Geralt?" she said breathlessly, more than a hint of worry in her voice. "Is everything okay? What's going on?" A brief pause, as if she was trying to catch her breath. He heard a voice distantly on the other end that sounded like Philippa—he wouldn't be surprised if she was listening in. "You've got news, I assume?"
He sighed and stepped out of the way of the people coming in behind him. "Yes. But it's not good news."
There was another pause long enough for him to order his food, and as he stood waiting for it, Triss said quietly "I thought that would be the case. We all did." He could hear her pacing, her footsteps moving from carpet to tile and back again. She was in her apartment, probably waiting for them to get back. "How is she doing, then? Can I talk to her?"
"She's not here." Someone brought his food to the counter and he accepted it with a nod of thanks. "We stopped for a minute, and she's still in the truck."
"You really think it was a good idea to leave her alone?" There was something in her voice that made him uncomfortable, something that seemed to say you wouldn't know if she's upset, despite evidence to the contrary. Could it be possible that Triss was jealous? Had she wanted to be the one here? The things Yennefer told him made it sound like no one had wanted to. The idea of her lying didn't sit well with him.
"You don't have to worry," he said, trying not to let the irritation he was feeling seep through into his tone. "She's fine." He shouldered open the door and his eyes immediately went to her, staring out the window, facing away from him. He could see the side of her face, and he almost couldn't believe how sad she looked. It was there, in her body—her lips pressed together, her forehead resting against the glass. "We'll see you soon," he said, and though he heard Triss starting to protest, he hung up anyway.
Yennefer looked at him incredulously as he pulled his food out of the bag and handed the rest to her. "You need to eat something," he insisted as she opened it and looked inside hesitantly. "I'm not going to let you argue me on this." Without waiting for a response, he started the car and got back on the highway. The rest of the drive was quiet, with the exception of the paper bag's occasional rustling as she ate its contents slowly, letting salt crystals collect on her lips. He tried to look at her as little as possible—he worried he would anger her—but every so often he found his eyes drawn back to the passenger seat.
Once, when he looked, she was looking back. He blinked, stared resolutely at the road, or tried to. As he pulled off the highway and into Oxenfurt he could see her tongue dart out and gather the salt from her lips. He swallowed thickly, and his grip on the wheel tightened. Once in the parking lot he had intended to take a moment, compose himself, but she was out of the truck almost before it had stopped, pulling her bag up onto her shoulder. She shut the door heavily behind her, and it was all he could do to keep up with her as she took the stairs to her landing two at a time.
"Are you going to be okay?" he blurted as she fit the key in the lock. It was the question he'd been trying to avoid, but now that he was being forced to leave her alone, he couldn't help but ask. She paused, tugged on the hem of her shirt. He heard her heartbeat speed up slightly, her breath huff out through her nose.
"I'll be fine." He couldn't tell whether or not she was annoyed as she stepped inside, pausing briefly to look back at him. He thought she was going to say more. Thank him, perhaps. It wouldn't surprise him as much as it once would have. But she just smiled sadly and shut the door in his face.
For several minutes he stood, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, though he knew she wouldn't tell him or even answer if he tried to get in. The worry had made itself a home in the pit of his stomach and to try and ease himself, he went across the landing and knocked on the door. Hopefully, Triss was there, and he could convince her to keep Yennefer company. He didn't think it would be hard. But Triss wasn't the one who answered the door—it was Ciri, wearing an oversized t-shirt that fell nearly to her knees and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Geralt?" she asked, confused. He briefly contemplated apologizing for waking her and then leaving, but he almost immediately thought better of it. If Triss could have helped, Ciri likely could even more so. He cleared his throat quietly.
"Do you have a minute?" She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "It's about Yennefer."
Something changed in her demeanor—he couldn't quite tell whether it was her posture, or the look in her eyes, or something else entirely, but it was there. She stepped back and gestured inside, throwing a glance at the door across the landing as she did so. "Of course I do," she said in a manner that indicated he hadn't even needed to ask. "What is it?"
i'm not going to be around on tumblr/here much this weekend because i'll be out of town (i'm hoping to maybe get another chapter up before i go but no promises), but if anyone sends me anything i'll try to answer it, and i'll be around posting my bullshit on twitter as well (belnthedragon) so there's that. i've also got an unrelated one-shot in the works that i'm hoping to get up soon if i can find the time to finish it!
