uhhh i don't really have a lot to say right now because i'm currently a mess lol, hope you enjoy –bel
A Wolf Among Lilacs
Part Two: Hope/Fear
Chapter Twenty-One: The Spaces In Between Two Minds
She hadn't created the portal with a destination in mind, but when she stepped out on the other side, she found herself in the hallway that led to her private quarters in Montecalvo. It was as good a place to end up as any, she supposed, especially considering that Val was unlikely to follow her there—even if he'd gotten to the portal by the time it closed (which was unlikely, since it hadn't spat him out behind her), he wouldn't want to stay here long. He wouldn't think the risk of running into Philippa worth it, though she wondered if Phil would even be home now. The rest of them always seemed to stay out later than Yennefer herself did. She had never been one for crowds.
The sound of her heels clicking on the tile echoed off the stone walls as she shouldered the door open and flicked on the lights in what had become her room. The castle was big enough for her to have her pick of the vast majority of its bedrooms, but she'd purposely chosen one far off in a secluded, rarely-used wing. It was only ever even remotely crowded when they held their yearly get-togethers here and many of the guests chose to stay over—the grounds were massive as well, and the place itself far more secluded than a townhouse in Vengerberg or Novigrad was. She had always liked it here, if for no other reason than how easy it was to shut herself away. Phil would leave her alone if she told her to; she seemed to be the only one around who respected that decision when she made it, except perhaps for Regis.
The room wasn't huge, but it was large enough for her to not feel cramped, and she'd always kept some of her things here, ever since the first time she stayed. It was the easiest place for her to go if she wanted to get away from everyone for a few days, though she wondered if this particular escape route would work this time—she'd never had to deal with a fight of this magnitude, and there would be a fight, she knew, the next time she saw Val. It didn't matter that she knew he'd been trying not to start one; what he'd seen effectively assured it. There was no contingency plan for him finding out about this. He wasn't ever supposed to. It had been a while since he asked her about what things had been like before she met him. She'd hoped to convince him that it didn't matter, and it had seemed that he bought it—at least until now. There was a pit of dread festering in her stomach, a voice in the back of her mind that whispered now that he knows this, it's only a matter of time before he finds out everything else.
She had no idea what to do with herself. She called Regis.
"Val knows," she said before he could even get a word in. She sat on the bed and leaned forward, resting her forehead on the heel of her hand. He couldn't see her. It was probably better that way—not a single one of those closest to her had ever liked Val, not even Philippa, who had been the one to introduce them, and she didn't need to give them more fuel for that fire by letting them see how this had affected her. Her voice was steady and she needed to keep it that way, to not betray her emotions. Perhaps she should've called someone else. Regis, more than anyone else, was likely to see right through her. But calling Triss or Philippa would only end in a fight. Ciri would probably want to fight him, and though the thought was immensely gratifying to Yennefer, it wouldn't do anyone any good at the time. And Geralt—
She shoved the thought away forcefully. She wasn't calling Geralt. Not after he'd left like that earlier. Left, after those things he'd been thinking…
"Val knows what?" Considering the situation, Regis sounded surprisingly calm. The soothing sound of his voice helped her steady her own breathing, and she realized that, perhaps, he had been the right one to call after all. He knew what Vilgefortz had done just a few hours ago, he could handle this.
"There was a file, in my rooms," she said quietly, standing up and crossing the room to step outside onto the balcony. At first, she had just wanted to check if any of the other lights in the place were on—she didn't want to have to deal with Philippa walking in on the conversation unexpectedly, though she undoubtedly knew Yennefer was there—but after a moment she closed the door behind her and stayed. The air was frigid, but there was something soothing about it. In a few days Yule would begin, and she would be forced to return to Aedd Gynvael, however reluctantly, to ready herself for the conference at Thanedd. The holiday itself had always been more or less background noise to her; Philippa only ever used it as an excuse to throw parties, something that had been going on for years before Yennefer, only fifteen at the time, had entered the picture. Now, it was an excuse that had immeasurably complicated things. "My student file. From Aretuza."
"Ah." Regis was silent for a moment after that, and she pulled her sleeves down to partially cover her hands, leaving only her fingertips exposed. One of her hands brushed the box in her pocket and she gripped it tightly for a moment, only to remember what it was and why she was gripping it, a thought that sent a flush of heat and anger creeping up her throat. She let go of it like it had burned her.
"Is there…" He paused, cleared his throat quietly, like he was about to say something that would upset her, though she doubted it could get any worse than it already had. "Is there anything in the file about—?"
"No." She said it quickly, too quickly, and even from miles away she could tell he didn't believe that she wasn't ruffled by this. "Not that I know of, I suppose," she continued. "I didn't look at it beyond the medical records. But there's nothing about it in the official file; nothing that had to do with that would've gone to anyone there. It was all done through you." She still had those records, reports and recommendations in his neat, cramped handwriting, tucked away in a box in the back of her apartment's closet. Specifically hidden, so Val wouldn't have been able to find it. The file that had been in his hand when she saw it was clearly a copy, and she had a feeling she knew who had slipped it there.
"That doesn't mean someone else couldn't have gotten their hands on them," Regis said gently. "Especially someone like Val. I know you've tried to keep it away from him, but at some point he was bound to—"
"He didn't get it from the box." She swallowed, clenching her hand in a fist around her shirt, then flattening her palm over her stomach. Her fingers slid over the ridge of her scar, and she sucked in a breath that she doubted went unheard. "It was copied."
She didn't think she could get any more words out. Her throat had closed up around them. After a minute of silence, Regis sighed. "You think it was put there?"
"It's entirely possible." Unable to stay still any longer, she started pacing back and forth across the empty stone balcony, letting the occasional breeze blow her hair around without much care. "He was at the house while I was out picking up the plans for the swords. He would've had any number of chances to sneak up there and place it. And if he did that while I was gone—"
She stopped. She couldn't go on any farther. It hadn't occurred to her until then—though she'd been trying not to think about it—but if he was the one who put it there, and he'd done it when she was out of the house, when there would have been one less set of alert eyes to watch out for, then it would have been there when she went upstairs with Geralt and Regis later, even if she was too distraught at the time to notice. He would have been counting on that. And it would have been there after, when she went back downstairs to the main room and left Geralt there alone.
"Yenna?" Static caused by the breeze made it hard to hear him, but she could tell he was worried at how abruptly she'd cut herself off. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine," she said. It felt as if someone else was speaking; she could hear the words, could feel them coming out of her mouth, but she wasn't connected to them at all. "I just—I have to go. I have to figure out what to do about this."
That was why she'd called him in the first place, and he clearly knew that when he started to protest, but she hung up anyway, sinking down onto the balcony to lean against the wall by the door. He had to have seen it. She could deny it all she wanted, but she knew it had to be the reason for his hasty departure earlier. He hadn't returned to the party either. She had spent the rest of the night surreptitiously watching for him, only for him to not show up. At the time, she had thought it was because of what had happened when they were alone, because he realized she'd been reading his thoughts—because he didn't understand she wanted the same thing he did, though now she found herself wanting it less and less.
He knew, and he'd already jumped to his own conclusions about it. Letting him invade her thoughts any longer would only end badly for everyone involved—and there were already far too many people involved. The best thing for her to do would be to put Geralt of Rivia out of her mind. She had been thinking it for days, but now she finally had an excuse. And she needed one. He wouldn't have left her thoughts otherwise.
~oOo~
It had been another two hours after he left Yennefer's townhouse before Regis decided to call and ask where he was. Before that, he'd fielded several unwanted calls from Triss (though in this case 'fielding' meant 'not answering') and even a message from Yennefer herself, asking if he was alright. He could sense the distance in it without even having to be there. He'd pushed too far and now he was paying the price. He was going to have to have a serious talk with Ciri when he got back to Oxenfurt.
He'd given Regis some sort of flimsy excuse, and it had been painfully obvious that he didn't buy it, but thankfully, he didn't ask any more questions. The drive back was just as silent, if not more so, than the drive over, and he clearly wasn't the only one in a bad mood—Triss stared out the window the whole time, barely speaking except to acknowledge a comment directed at her with a soft noise of agreement. He wondered if something had happened after he left. There had to be a reason she was acting like this; Triss was normally better at hiding her more unpleasant emotions. He didn't want to ask, though.
A few hours into the trip, Regis got a call. Geralt, sitting diagonally from him and behind the driver's seat, saw him pull his phone out of his pocket and check the caller ID, his brow furrowing. He pressed the button to answer and held it up to his ear, but before he could even say anything, a voice on the other end said "Val knows."
Yennefer. He felt his breath constrict as the worried look on Regis's face became even more prominent. Regis turned around more fully to make eye contact with Triss, who seemed to be paying attention for once, because she nodded and muttered something under her breath. A moment later the crushing sound of static replaced what little he'd been able to hear coming out of the phone. He tried to swallow back any anger he might've felt at what she was doing, or the thought that Yennefer would want her to. The only two other passengers besides her and Regis both had superhuman senses, and he knew Yennefer well enough to know she liked her correspondence kept private.
"Val knows what?" Regis said into the phone, turning back around to look out the window himself. Through the side mirror, Geralt could see Dettlaff eyeing him curiously. He wondered if Triss's spell was even working on him. Higher vampires had to have some kind of resistance to things like that. Yennefer's reply was fuzzy, but he could hear enough to tell that something was still off about her tone, that she was worried about something.
It was incredibly likely, he realized with another nervous jolt, that it had something to do with the file he'd found in her rooms earlier, when she'd left him alone. If it had been there for him to see, it would've been there for Istredd to see as well. No one had been up there to move it. Besides that, he couldn't think of anything else that could possibly have her so upset. But the thought was ridiculous—if they cared for each other enough to get engaged, then he would've already known this. Right?
"Ah." Though Yennefer's voice was muted, Regis's was still clear, and he started drumming his fingers across his leg, a clear sign that he was agitated. "Is there…" He cleared his throat. "Is there anything in the file about—?"
Another burst of static. This time it felt like a hush had fallen over the car, and when Geralt looked over at Triss, she seemed to be focusing the spell; he could tell by the intense look of concentration on her face, the way she gripped the door handle just to anchor herself to something. He'd seen her do it a million times. When Regis started to speak again a moment later, Geralt couldn't hear any of it. He'd been shut out of the loop completely.
A few minutes later, when Regis hung up and Triss let the spell drop with a sigh of relief, he didn't seem to want to talk much. Geralt didn't press him, though he was dying to, and Triss didn't immediately say anything either, which he found unusual—normally she seemed to care more about Yennefer than nearly anyone else. He thought about trying to call Yennefer himself, but rejected the idea almost immediately. She wouldn't pick up. After his unceremonious exit earlier, he doubted she'd even want to talk to him.
"How is she?" Triss asked after a moment, leaning her head forward so it rested on the back of Regis's seat. "From what I heard, that didn't sound too good."
"It wasn't." Regis turned, trying to look at Triss, but without twisting around fully, he would only be able to see Geralt. "I think you should ask her about it yourself, though," he said, and Geralt wondered if it was deliberate or not when Regis looked straight at him as he said it. He already knew asking her about anything would be a terrible idea.
Triss hummed softly in agreement and closed her eyes, looking as though she would fall asleep any moment. "I'll do that, then," she said. "Although if it has anything to do with what happened earlier…"
Silence, for a few moments. Triss sighed. "The Chapter and Council are going to vote next week on which of the people they nominated will fill the vacant spot. And they'll announce the new member at the banquet, before the start of the actual conference. Philippa told me—I'm not supposed to know, though, so you should all keep your mouth shut about it."
It was a given for Geralt—who would he tell that would care?—but he didn't like being ordered around like that; something about it rubbed him the wrong way, especially tonight. "Why? If the outcome is as inevitable as it seems?"
Triss turned to him, surprised. "How do you know what we're talking about?"
"I was there when she got the nomination." He remembered her shielding her calls from him the next morning, making sure he couldn't hear what the others' reactions were, much as Triss had done only moments ago. He wasn't sure if any of them had even known he was there—she hadn't exactly advertised that he was going to Novigrad with her. "She didn't seem very happy about it."
"She's not." Again, he had to wonder why Yennefer had not seemed at all excited about a chance to advance her position in the politics of mages, especially since most of the people she was closely connected to were already involved—Philippa, a member of the Council, and Tissaia de Vries, who was a member of the Chapter and had sponsored Philippa (he didn't know how closely she was linked to Yennefer; he'd never heard her talk about her). "But we all might as well face facts: she's going to be picked whether she wants to be or not. Unless Phil has somehow managed to divert the vote in another direction, but I don't see how she could do that without raising suspicions."
"No, she'll be stuck there," Regis agreed tersely. Geralt saw a sign out the window, proclaiming that Oxenfurt wasn't far, and was glad that soon he'd be able to get out of the car, out of the gloomy atmosphere that had suddenly engulfed it and everyone inside. "There's no way Philippa could suddenly back down from years of talking her up without everyone questioning it."
"I know, I know." Triss pulled back to lean her forehead against the window now, likely so she wouldn't have to look at any of them. "It's just wishful thinking."
~oOo~
Geralt had considered going straight to Yennefer's apartment when they returned, if for no other reason than to check up on her, but he decided soon after that no, she would hate that, and so he spent the next week thinking about her but not seeing her at all. He gave a final for the one section he was teaching—a written one, because he didn't think he would be able to focus on students giving demonstrations long enough to actually grade them. At least this way he could let his thoughts drift off in his own apartment. And his thoughts drifted off frequently, mostly to when he might be able to see her again. He was nearing a breaking point, the point when he'd no longer be able to shrug off whatever was happening between them as nothing.
Whether she'd reached a similar point, it was nearly impossible for him to say.
When the time finally came for him to accompany Triss to the banquet on Thanedd that opened the mages' conclave, he found himself dreading it more and more. He'd never liked big parties, and he'd never liked mages—were it not for the fact that he'd been assured others he knew would be there, he wouldn't have gone at all, no matter how much Triss begged. But Regis would be attending as well; officially, he'd be Philippa's plus one, but he'd already let slip to Geralt that the actual reason he was there was to 'keep an eye on things.' He hadn't gone into any further detail, so Geralt had assumed it had something to do with the open Council position, and put it out of his mind.
He packed lightly, since he only planned to be there for the banquet and whatever breakfast they offered the next morning. Despite his frequent and loud objections, Triss had decided to teleport them there ("If we drove it would practically take a day! Geralt, I don't have that kind of time!"), and she would send him back via portal as well, once all was said and done. Just another thing he wasn't looking forward to about the whole trip. Even worse was that Triss had insisted he wear a full suit, instead of the dress shirt and pants he'd been planning on wearing. He hated formal occasions, and just that small thing would have made it infinitely more bearable for him, but he should've known better than to think it would be possible. Mages' get-togethers were nearly always formal.
Geralt tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt as he pulled open the door leading to the lobby Triss's apartment branched off of and took the stairs two at a time. He knocked and then stood as far back as possible, trying very hard not to look at the door across the hallway. She probably wasn't even there; knowing Yennefer (which he admitted he only barely did), she'd probably arrived in Gors Velen hours ago to get ready. Even before he officially met her, she had seemed like the type who needed to have everything under control. Her reactions to whatever it was that had been going on between them all but confirmed that.
The door to Triss's apartment unlocked from the inside, and he forced his thoughts back to the present as it swung open. Ciri was on the other side, slightly flushed, pulling the hem of her shirt down even though it was already a size too big on her. "Geralt," she said, as though she were surprised to see him. He'd thought Triss would've told her what was going on, but considering that the Academy had just finished their exams and Triss likely had to do most of the grading, it was entirely possible they hadn't seen much, if any, of each other. "You look…nice."
"Thanks." He tugged on his collar again. "Triss didn't leave already, did she?"
"No, she's getting ready." Ciri laughed a little. The way she was shifting almost made it look as though she were trying to block him from seeing past her—like she didn't want him coming in. "Did you really think she'd go without you?"
"I guess not." When he stepped to the side, she mimicked him, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Do I not get to come in?"
"What? You—I mean, you do, but—" She pushed her hand through her hair, laughed nervously. "Yes. Come in."
This time when he moved forward she didn't stop him, instead stepping back to let him walk past her. He set his bag on the floor beside him, but he was caught off-guard by someone else in the room. Sitting on the couch was a red-haired woman, who had turned around to watch them curiously. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen her, if at all.
"Geralt…" Ciri gestured towards the woman. Her hand was shaking slightly, as if she were nervous, though she didn't have anything to be nervous about. "This is Bea."
"Very nice to meet you," she said, smiling, and Geralt suddenly remembered where he knew her from—the Alchemist. She'd seen him and Yennefer there, before the trip to Novigrad. He could only hope she didn't remember it. "I've heard so much."
At that point, he was used to hearing things like that. People made their own assumptions about him, especially after the incident in Blaviken nearly a decade ago, and he'd found it was easier to let them, though he doubted this had anything to do with that. "Really? What, for example?"
Ciri leaned against the back of the couch, fidgeting. She'd always had a hard time staying still, especially in situations where she felt awkward. "For example," Bea said, "how you've saved her from woe so many times she's lost count. And how you always know how to make her laugh." A brief pause. He could hear Triss moving around in her bedroom, the sounds of a suitcase zipping. She'd be out soon. "That's Ciri, of course. Other ladies, however…"
"Bea!" Ciri's face turned red. Geralt was unperturbed. Thanks to Dandelion, he had something of a reputation anyway; again, it was easier to let folk jump to their own conclusions. "I'm standing right here!"
"All right, all right," Bea said, grinning widely. "I'll lay off. He's already spoken for, anyway."
Ciri tilted her head towards the ceiling and groaned loudly, pushing herself up from her perch on the back of the couch as Geralt looked at her, confused and a little worried about the implications of that sentence. "Well, good, you two have met. Geralt, we can wait out in the hall for Triss," she said over Bea's quiet laughter.
"I'm not even going to ask what that was about," he said as Ciri pulled the door behind her, leaving it open just a crack. His bag was still inside, but Triss would see it and grab it. If not—well, he'd had to wear more uncomfortable clothing overnight before. He'd manage. "So…Bea."
"What about her?" Ciri pushed her hair back behind her ear. Her other hand was shoved deep in her pocket; she was trying to keep still.
"She seems…nice."
"Geralt." For a moment it seemed as if she were going to lean back against the door and send herself tumbling back into the apartment, but she caught herself at the last minute, swaying to the side instead so her arm hit the wall, and she turned her face so she wasn't looking directly at him. "You're terrible."
"What'd I say?" He smiled, hoping she would see, hoping that the awkwardness of the situation and not worry over what his reaction might've been was what was bothering her. It was clear what was going on. He was surprised he didn't notice it sooner.
Ciri shook her head and sighed, trying to look annoyed, but he could tell she was trying not to grin back. The look faded after a moment, though, as she stared at the closed door behind him, across the landing. "You should know…" she started, uncertain, then with more conviction, "that Yennefer was looking for you earlier."
He tried not to let that rattle him, but his mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that she realized what he'd seen, that she wanted to make sure he didn't remember it. It didn't matter that her trying would be nearly useless; she was powerful, true, but the amount of magic it would take to incapacitate a witcher would likely be beyond what she was willing to do. "She was? Did she say about what?"
"No, but she looked agitated." When Ciri finally looked over at him again, she was chewing on her lip. "She almost always looks agitated lately."
He wanted to dive deeper into that—to see if she knew whether or not he was the reason for that—but he was stopped by the sound of a door opening. Behind him, not in front. He turned to see Keira, who had stopped short in the doorway at the sight of them. There was a bag slung over her shoulder, and another she was holding behind her back. When he tried to look past her, hopefully discreetly, the apartment appeared empty.
"Geralt!" She sounded surprised to see him, though he didn't know why. He spent as much time as he could get away with in Ciri's apartment. "You look…nice."
"He's going to the banquet," Ciri interjected before he had a chance to respond. He'd been hoping she wouldn't say anything about that. "So I'm sure you'll see him there." She grinned widely. Geralt tried to glare at her without Keira noticing.
"Is that so?" She lowered her gaze, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Months ago, it might've worked on him. Now, it had no effect. "I'll be sure and look for you, then."
She shut the door, locked it behind her, and headed down the stairs, probably to teleport outside, where it was less cramped. Geralt leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
so i'm obviously taking a little longer than i had previously to post chapters, and here's what that means for the schedule: there won't be an update for another two weeks. the good news is that the next update is actually three updates, posted in the same week (M/W/F). up next is the thanedd arc, and since 3 of its 4 chapters take place immediately after each other (like, not even a minute's pause), i wanted to put them up all within a few days of each other. so i promise this will be worth the wait lol.
i know i've mentioned this on tumblr but may not have cleared it up here - the events of 'the lesser evil' happened prior to the beginning of awal (incidentally, around the same time yen's major backstory events were also happening, though the two have absolutely nothing to do with each other). it's one of the main reasons that he's gained a reputation despite not having much of a presence outside the Path
