ok i'm sorry this took over a month to post; i wasn't intending to go on hiatus at all but i've been revising my senior thesis, among other things, and it's taking up A Lot of time. i can't promise weekly updates until likely sometime in mid-May, but i'll do my best to stick to that and there will definitely be updates every other week at the least. in the meantime here's the beginning of part 2 finally it's very angsty hope you like it –bel
A Wolf Among Lilacs
Part Two: Hope/Fear
Chapter Eighteen: Like You Did The Night Before
Something was different about him.
Triss had noticed it almost right away, the second she saw him at lunch—a gathering from which Yenna was conspicuously absent. She'd asked Triss to leave quite unceremoniously that morning and with the exception of one terse message confirming that yes, she was fine, she hadn't heard from her since. It worried her more, even, than how Geralt was acting worried her, which was quite a lot. She hadn't expected her to be happy when she returned, but there was unhappy and then there was this, whatever it was. Alone, on its own, not coinciding with anyone else's behavior, she might have brushed it off; at the least, it wouldn't have consumed her waking thoughts. But when she saw Geralt that day, it was the only thing on her mind.
He seemed distant, and from the moment she sat down to the one he left, he didn't say a single word. Geralt wasn't normally the most talkative person to begin with, but there was something off about his silence. It felt less like he was still listening attentively and more like he was deep in thought about something. She couldn't help but notice, a couple of days before, that his car had been missing as well, while Yenna had been gone. It set a pit of fear coiling in her stomach, one that his leaving all but confirmed.
"Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly during their walk back to campus, on which they'd unfortunately ended up alone. Regis had pulled Dandelion up ahead, out of earshot, and Triss had a feeling it was deliberate—he was giving her an opportunity, whether she wanted one or not. "You seem quiet."
"Do I?" He didn't look over at her as he answered. Triss noticed he was checking his phone every few minutes. Another action to add to the list of unusual ones. Normally, getting him to answer a message was nearly impossible. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, hunched over slightly. "Guess I'm a bit tired."
"Are you sure that's all?" She didn't want to feel like she was pressing him, but the words were coming out of their own accord and she didn't know how to keep them in. Her phone went off in her pocket and Geralt started, hands going to his own for a moment before he realized it wasn't his. The strength of his gaze on her as she fished the thing out made her blush, but thankfully he pretended not to notice. Her brow furrowed as she read the message. That he saw.
"What's going on?" he asked, moving closer to her as she walked, though he kept a certain distance between them. He pushed his hand through his hair, which he'd uncharacteristically left down (another sign) and she thought for a moment she saw something poking out above the collar of his shirt, but soon the white strands fell forward to cover it again. She blinked, swallowed, and looked back at her phone.
"Yenna's in Aedd Gynvael," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, to not betray her surprise. She wasn't sure whether or not Geralt knew anything about what had been going on with Yennefer—she had to assume no, because there was no way they were already that close, and no reason for her to tell him besides. It was frustrating, not being able to complain to anybody about it, to worry out loud to someone who would listen. Yenna wouldn't listen, if she'd even been around to hear what a stupid idea Triss thought it was for her to go to Novigrad and now to Aedd Gynvael alone. Not when she could've gone with her.
But when she looked back over at Geralt, she was immediately pulled from her own thoughts. His facial expression hadn't changed at all, but his jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense under his jacket, and the worry in his eyes had hardened into anger. Something about this was making him upset; even more so, perhaps, then it was making Triss. The feeling surfaced again, the one that told her he was hiding something, and she pushed it back violently. She couldn't bear to think about that now.
"Wasn't she just off somewhere?" he asked gruffly. The tension evident in his body was mirrored in his voice, but she had to be imagining it. She had to be. The only reason he had to even care about Yenna a little was Ciri, and she wasn't involved in this at all. Unless, that is, she'd missed something—and she didn't even want to think about what she might have missed.
"She just got back from Novigrad," she replied lightly, looking away from him and down at the sidewalk in front of her instead. The early winter chill was seeping into her boots, through her tights, and she knew how much colder it would be in Aedd Gynvael, how Yenna probably hadn't set foot outside since she got there and would portal back in the morning to avoid the weather, in long sleeves and jackets. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it. It's been making the rounds."
"Well, we're not exactly close." The tightness in his voice almost perfectly mirrored what she'd heard from Yenna only a few hours ago, and she found herself clutching the straps of her bag tighter as she hiked it back up on her shoulder. "We probably shouldn't even be talking about it—and enough about that, anyway." When she finally tore her eyes away from the pavement, he was looking at her, and she flushed faintly despite herself. "You okay, Triss? Seems like something else is bothering you."
Triss sighed and forced her gaze away from his. A gust of wind pushed around the collar of his jacket and she thought she saw, for the second time, a darker patch of skin, just for a moment, before it fluttered shut again. "There is," she admitted, rubbing her hand over her own neck. "But I don't know if…if this is a good time—"
"And it's already been brought up." He slowed so they fell even further behind the others. Now that she'd mentioned it, he wasn't going to drop it. She couldn't help but think the idea shouldn't have even entered her head at all.
"I, um—" She paused, cleared her throat. "I don't know how much you know about this, but there's a…conference of sorts, that mages have twice a year. And there's a banquet they have on the first night, before the actual debates and presentations and such start. And...I was hoping you would maybe go. With me."
She could see the distaste in his expression before she had even finished her question, and she hurried to continue before he had a chance to interrupt. "It's—I know you hate these kinds of things, but it's just that—well, Yenna and I usually go to them together. Or we both go alone." She hoped she wasn't blushing. She didn't want to give him any ideas, even the right ones. "Val almost never goes because he hates socializing. But we were just sent a list of those who research got accepted to present at the conference, and he's on it. So they have to go together, or people will talk."
She completed her plea slightly out of breath, and by the time she'd steadied herself the look on his face had gone from confused to angry to something closer to indifference, though she could tell it was feigned. The transition had happened around the time she brought Val up. It was understandable—she could count on one hand the number of people she thought genuinely liked him, and it was even doubtful that his own fiancée was included on that list—but there was something else behind it, something she would've called possessiveness had it been anyone but Geralt. No, it was more…protective. But other than the obvious reason, why would he feel the need to protect her?
"Alright," he said slowly, still a little suspicious. "But you could bring anyone—another mage, or at least someone who understands their customs better than I do. So why me?"
He knew, she was sure of it, but she couldn't admit that in front of him, to him, not in a situation like this. Luckily, she had another excuse on hand, one she hoped would placate him. She bit her lip. "I know you know about Yenna's Council nomination. She told me you know." What Yenna hadn't told her was how and why Geralt knew, but she let it go for now. "And it would be…unfortunate if they ultimately choose her, considering there's someone on the Chapter that she's—" She stopped, tried to ignore his questioning looks, which were becoming more and more pointed. "It's better if they're separated, I'll leave it at that. And we were hoping to have several people there who could keep an eye out for anything that could go wrong. If it came to that."
He huffed out a breath and turned, starting to walk again, and she followed him, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. "You really can't think of anyone else you could bring?" he asked, voice clipped. "No one who knows her better?"
"Everyone else I could ask is already going to be there."
"Then why do you need me?"
"I—" Triss had to pause for a moment, frustrated, though she wasn't sure if it was with Geralt or her own inability to express her thoughts. "I don't know if there's an explanation I can give you without telling you a lot of things you shouldn't know. But I think all of us would feel better about the situation if one more person were there. Yenna included."
She had added the last part somewhat reluctantly, but she could already tell it was having an effect on him, on the way he was thinking about things. "I'll consider it," he said finally. "But that's all I can promise right now."
"That's all I'm asking." It wasn't, but she let it go. Geralt could be stubborn at the best of times, she didn't want to push him now. They walked together in silence, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. She didn't think she wanted to know where that place was.
~oOo~
Something was different about her.
He first started suspecting it when he returned home from the site he was currently excavating and was greeted with the sight of her bag on the counter. At the top of the stairs, the bedroom door was open. He frowned as he set his things down and took the stairs two at a time. She hadn't told him she'd be coming, and lately getting her to stay in Aedd Gynvael for even a night was like pulling teeth. Alarms were sounding in his head as he entered the room and shut the door. Something was wrong. It had to be.
When she heard him come in, she closed the book she'd been reading and set it aside, pushing herself up to a seated position. She was only wearing one of his shirts, or at least that was how it looked to him, and he took his time letting his eyes run up the length of her legs before he tried to meet her gaze—but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on a folded piece of paper on the nightstand.
"You know," she said dryly, "there are several far easier ways to get ahold of me."
"You weren't answering your phone." He should've known this was what she'd be mad about. They'd never quite seen eye-to-eye on methods of communication; she largely preferred to be left alone, and he had always felt the opposite. "And you know how I feel about hospitals."
That caught her attention—she looked up, and her eyes narrowed. "Who said anything about hospitals?"
"Don't try that." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She tensed immediately, fingers curling around the ends of the shirt she wore. He gestured to the paper. "Clearly you've read it. I know you went to Novigrad. Even though I said you shouldn't have."
Yennefer rolled her eyes and stretched her legs out in front of her. The movement caused her to wince slightly. "Yes. You did. And I went anyway. Your opinions aren't the end-all-be-all of my decision-making process."
He grit his teeth as he looked at her, head tilted upwards, as if she were challenging him to say something more. It was too late to change her mind; the thing was already done, and he had to assume it had ended badly. She would still be here if it had worked, but for far different reasons, and she would've failed then as well. He'd told her time and again how he felt about the whole thing. If he wanted to get any useful information out of her, he'd have to try a different approach.
"Who was with you?"
The right question to ask, it seemed, though the wrong one for her. She blinked a few times in surprise, her fingers gripping the fabric even tighter. The diamonds in her star pulsed brightly for a moment, and he was unpleasantly reminded that she'd never once trusted him with her thoughts. They'd always been closely guarded, hers and only hers. "No one went with me. I was alone."
"Really?" He shifted closer to her. His hand slipped over hers, tugging her fingers loose. Her skin was freezing against his; he held her firmly. She didn't try to move. "That's interesting. Because I spoke with Cirilla the other day and she said something quite the opposite."
He couldn't be entirely sure in the dim light of the single lamp she'd kept on, but he thought he saw her face whiten just the slightest bit; it appeared he'd struck more than one nerve. Despite that, she retained her composure remarkably well, though he could feel her pulse pounding against his tight grip. "And you believed her?" she said, arching one eyebrow. "I told her that so she'd feel better about it. You know as well as I do that no one would have gone with me."
She was lying. He would've bet the house on it. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to see some truth in her words. After all, if he hadn't wanted to take her, who would? It seemed that all of her friends thought it was a bad idea as well; most would have no problem voicing that opinion to her. There were still holes in her story, though—how she'd gotten to and from Novigrad without a car, after such an invasive procedure, for one. He frowned and slid his hand up her arm, curling it around her shoulder.
"I know that," he said, voice pitched low. "I also know you must have seen that letter last night, when you supposedly got home. Yet you're only now here."
"I didn't see it last night." She was looking away from him staunchly, trying not to allow him an opportunity to read her expression. "I was a bit distracted, as I'm sure you can understand."
He let go of her shoulder and she laid back, throwing her arm over her closed eyes. The movement pulled at the shirt she was wearing, tugged it up above her hips, where he could see fresh scars that she hadn't bothered to get rid of yet, and—
"Yenna. What is that?"
She moved her arm slowly, barely opening her eyes to look at him. "What is what?" Wordlessly, he pointed, and she shifted up to look—bruises, small ones, dotted across her hipbones and her sides, suspiciously finger-shaped. When she saw them her mouth opened briefly, then closed again, and she got a strange look on her face, nearly a smile but not quite. "Ah. That's nothing."
"And that's not a good enough explanation."
"That's too bad. Because it's the only one you're going to get."
Slowly, he placed his fingertips over the darker patches, fitting his hands to them and watching her eyes slip shut. "Well." He pressed down and she inhaled sharply, her free hand digging into her thigh. "I'll find out eventually, then."
She smirked, still not looking directly at him. "You really think so?"
Things were beginning to fall into place in his head, and it was a place he didn't like at all. She wasn't responding to him as she normally did; it had used to be only here that she let go of her feigned indifference, demonstrated any emotion towards him at all. And she was certainly demonstrating emotion now—he just wasn't sure he was the one eliciting it. "I know so." He could feel her shifting towards him and away from him simultaneously, as if she couldn't decide exactly what it was she was feeling. "I've got my methods."
~oOo~
"Well, what do you think we should do about it, then?"
Ciri shifted on the floor, adjusting her head and leaning up against Yennefer's thigh. She'd been sitting in front of the couch for the better part of two hours, listening intently as the three of them went through a potential guest list for a party they were throwing. It was something they did every year, rotating from Montecalvo to Triss's home in Novigrad to Yennefer's Vengerberg townhouse. This year, it was being held at the latter, and Ciri had been able to feel Yennefer gradually becoming more and more tense as they made their way down the list, an alphabetized roster of the entire Brotherhood of Sorcerers and then some. They were planning to invite nearly everyone on the list, with a few notable exceptions that they'd already crossed off—but they hadn't hit any major problems. Until now.
"Don't invite him," Triss said, sighing and leaning forward on the couch to stare at the paper. She'd remained mostly quiet up to that point, leaving Yennefer and Philippa to do most of the work. It appeared this was the only invitation in which she had a stake or even wanted one, and she had suddenly become very interested in what was going on in the room. Before that, she'd been just as lost in her own thoughts as Ciri was, though paying decidedly less attention. "It's that easy, really."
"The fact that you think that means you don't actually understand the situation," Philippa said, rolling her eyes as she mimicked Triss's posture. Ciri heard Yennefer sigh deeply, but she didn't move. She had been half-laying on the couch the whole time, ever since she returned from Aedd Gynvael in a far worse mood than she usually did. She'd been running her fingers over her sides and responding to everyone else only when it was required of her. It made Ciri curious about what had happened the night before.
She had seen Yennefer earlier that morning, before she left to see Istredd, and there had definitely been something off about her, something different about the way she was carrying herself. Now, she'd been staring at the ceiling for the past hour or so, tugging at the bottom of her white sweater and sliding the tips of her fingers along her star, which pulsed brightly. She was actively enhancing the enchantments she'd put on it; that more than anything else had convinced Ciri that, after she'd sent Geralt over to her apartment, things had shifted. Whether that was for the better or for the worse, it was too early to tell.
"If we invite everyone in the Chapter and Council except for him, it will look suspicious. People will talk. Especially since the list of candidates for the open Council position hasn't exactly been kept a secret. The last thing any of us should want—especially you—is to draw more attention to this than it's already gotten. How long would it take for people to get suspicious?"
"Not long," Triss admitted sourly. "But I don't know if keeping up appearances is worth just letting him in her house, Philippa."
Yennefer sighed again, this one more like a huff than the last, and ran her hand across Ciri's head, in her hair. The gesture relaxed them both, it seemed; her fingers were thin and gentle, and Ciri sank a little further into the divot the cushions created by Yennefer's leg. She looked over at the list on the coffee table, dotted with notes in Philippa's steady hand, and stared at his name for a moment, becoming angrier the longer she looked at it. If it were Ciri's decision, she'd make sure he stayed as far away from Yennefer as possible—but it wasn't. And when she finally decided to speak up, Ciri knew what Yennefer would say.
"At least if he's there, we can keep an eye on him." Philippa sat up straighter, staring Triss down uncomfortably. "If we leave him out of the loop, we won't be able to have any control over what he does. At least this way, we've got a fighting chance."
"I don't care what he says!" Triss said loudly. Against her cheek, Ciri felt Yennefer tense; her hand stopped moving and rested on the crown of Ciri's head. "We can deal with that, just like we've dealt with other rumors. It's not anything new to us. But is no one thinking about the emotional effects? About what this would mean to her?"
"Apparently only one of us is thinking about that," Yennefer said sharply, "and it's not you."
She moved her hand off of Ciri's hand and pushed herself up so she was sitting, leaning forward slightly, her arms wrapped loosely around her midsection in a posture that was nearly defensive, protective. Triss pressed her lips together into a thin line and didn't immediately respond. Philippa, on the other hand, locked eyes with Yennefer and smiled faintly. Ciri knew that was where the argument had been heading; it happened nearly every year since they decided to start throwing these parties. It didn't usually involve Yennefer so strongly, since she insisted that they be held at the others' homes as often as possible. But this year, with the Council nomination hanging over her head, things had become more complicated.
"He has to be there," Yennefer continued, softer now, but no less certain. "For the same reason that I accepted the nomination in the first place. Philippa's right—we can't afford to raise suspicions."
"Yenna." Triss was obviously trying not to let slip how upset she was, but it was creeping through anyway, in her tone, in the way she was looking at her. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to put yourself at risk so that everyone else will ignore you—"
"Yes. I do." Yennefer leaned forward, buried her head in her hands. Ciri bit her lip and watched. She agreed with Triss, but she didn't want to say it; she knew she would get a negative reaction, although Yennefer would be more inclined to believe that, from Ciri, it came from a place of genuine worry. She looked down at her ragged fingernails, tugging at the hair band looped around her wrist and listening to Yennefer's unsteady breathing. "Put him on the godsdamned list."
ok this chapter was a little bit slow, but since there are only 9 more chapters in part 2 things are about to really pick up; there's not a lot of room for the in-between stuff. what i'm trying to say is there's generally a lot more action closer together than there was in part 1 lol
