Title: Bound
Author: MorganLeGaye
Beta: Cheyenne (sexualsportswear on tumblr)
Fandom: The Witcher
Rating: M
Pairing(s): Triss/Philippa
Banner Art: Scredgirl on Tumblr/Twitter
Summary: "Leashing involves a pupil being bound to their master in body, mind, and magic," Philippa explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "It is not something to undertake lightly, but if you accept, I will be able to share my magic with you, and instruct you in ways that would be otherwise be impossible if I were to only rely on verbal communication. It is intimate, it is at times invasive, but if you consent to this, Triss, it will make you vastly more powerful, and from the look in your eyes, that seems to be exactly what you are looking for."
A/N: I started this fic after I released "La Douleur Exquise" because I wanted to expand upon my headcanon that Triss used to be a leashed sorceress to Philippa back in her days at Aretuza, but life got me sidetracked. While this originally was going to be a prequel to that story, I've since decided to go in a different direction because I wanted to focus more on Triss/Phil instead of dealing with Triss' emotional mess of having feelings for both Philippa and Yennefer, haha. Anyway, I cannot promise a steady update rate with this, even though I banged my last 20k+ fic out within the span of a week, lol. I now am juggling two jobs, go to school full time, and am also writing an original novel. I'll try not to let it go too long between parts though, I promise!

I.

When Triss Merigold was four years old, her father broke her leg in three places.

He was just drunk, he didn't mean it, her mother would remind her year after year, when the bones had healed badly and she was unable to walk without a cane. But then the pox swept through their town the autumn of Triss' seventh birthday, leaving her father dead and herself covered in scars, and suddenly, everything was her fault because if she weren't so ugly, then perhaps they would be okay; perhaps her mother would have been able to marry her off to a wealthy family in return for a hefty dowry, perhaps another nice man would come around and call her mother 'wife' and Triss 'daughter', and take care of them both for the rest of their days.

But neither of those things were going to happen, because Triss was such an unsightly girl. No one wanted to look at her anymore, she was reminded day in and day out – not even her own mother. Triss still remembered the day she was given to the sorceresses in Aretuza; she was screaming for her mother – don't let them take me, Mama, please! Please! I'll be good! – and her mother was shouting at Tissaia, demanding payment for them to take her little girl. But Aretuza did not pay for their sorceresses, and eventually her mother left, at the very least, glad to be rid of what she callously called 'the blight on her life'.

Triss cried for many months after that.

Aretuza though, as it turned out, was not the place where her life would end. Triss believed that she was tossed aside because she was unwanted, because she needed to be forgotten by this world and everyone in it, but Aretuza was not a place where unsightly girls were left to rot. Aretuza only took those with a predisposition of power, as one could not make something out of nothing. Triss was something, she was someone, and eventually that gave her the confidence that allowed her to blossom into a beautiful swan just like all the other ugly ducklings in her pond.

Because she was now. She was beautiful.

Triss often wondered if this would be what she would've looked like, had none of those unfortunate things happened to her. If she had not been beaten, broken, and riddled with sickness. Would she have been beautiful enough to be noticed by a handsome traveler? Would she have been swept away to a faraway place to live a life of beauty and luxury, to attend fancy balls and to bear many sons? Would she have been content? Happy?

Even now, Triss often found herself daydreaming of such things, despite knowing that they could never be. Regardless of her beauty, regardless of how her lovely chestnut hair framed her face, or how her smile lit up a room, no one wanted to marry a sorceress. They were unhinged, untrustworthy. They were too powerful and difficult to control. They lived longer than most and they could bear no children, so what was the use of them, really?

What was the use of her?

That question had burned itself in the back of Triss' mind ever since the first time she had ventured from Aretuza. Students were not permitted to leave the island, but Keira Metz was an awful influence, and Triss desperately wished to show off her new beauty to the world. To men, primarily. The terrible pain she had gone through to look this way had to amount to something eventually, and Triss did not wish to wait until after she graduated to begin her life experiences. So, she went to an inn, she drank and played dice poker with some unsavory folk, and eventually fell into bed with a young man who broke her heart.

"Will you visit me?" Triss had asked him, sheets clutched to her breasts as she up in bed. She liked him, this man who called himself Piotr; he was broad shouldered and had a crooked smile, with tanned cheeks and a scar below his lower lip. His sandy blonde hair fell over one of his eyes, and as Piotr secured his trousers around his waist, he laughed.

"At Aretuza? Of course not."

"Why not? They allow visitors to the island."

"Sorceresses are not real women. They strive for power and influence, and can bear men no sons," Piotr responded unkindly, as though he was not aware that Triss had feelings like any other woman. Her throat constricted, her eyes burned, and Triss felt so terribly, terribly foolish. "The closest thing to womanhood for a sorceress is what lies between her legs, and I have already tasted that. What use are you to me now?"

What use are you to me now?

Triss did not leave Thanedd again after that.

She immersed herself in her studies, needing to feel a sense of accomplishment and pride. She needed this to matter, she needed to be useful to the right people and considered important to those who weren't, otherwise what would be the point to all of this? Triss knew her options were limited. If she did not become a full-fledged sorceress, she might as well be put out to pasture, as there was nothing in this world for those who had failed in their craft. No one may want her now, but no one would want her if she left either. This was her one shot to become someone, and Triss was damned if she was going to squander it.

"Are you going to share a drink with me, or am I to stand here all night?"

"I'm— I'm sorry, Yenna. Hold on, I just…" Triss madly scribbled down some runes on the parchment in front of her, but then winced as a line in Triglav came out crooked. "Damnit." Triss slammed down her quill, splattering ink across her desk and her work. Not that it mattered, as she was going to have to redo it anyway. That one line would have bothered her endlessly.

Triss' elbow hit the desk, her head fisted in her hair, and Yennefer's brow arched at the woman's dramatic defeat.

"Triss," she reminded her flatly. "You are already at the top of your class; this kind of neurosis is unnecessary. Of course, if you keep ignoring one of your advisors when they have come with news, that could change. I may be impressed with your skill, but do not try my patience."

The clear warning caused Triss to immediately jump from her chair. She may not know Yennefer well, but she did know that she did not wish to squander this opportunity. While every student nearing graduation got to speak with an advisor at least once, only the very best were visited on multiple occasions. Yennefer had taken quite an interest in her, both academically and personally, and considering she was a well-respected sorceress, Triss would be a fool not to oblige the woman with whatever it was that she wished.

The problem was, though, Triss was certainly not at her best, and therefore often forgot her manners. She could not even remember the last time she had gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep as she worked endlessly on her end-of-the-year thesis. It would be presented to Tissaia in two months' time, and she had not even begun writing it yet. As it turns out, trying to manipulate runes to aid witchers was good in theory, yet difficult in practice without an actual witcher handy. It was probably also incredibly useless as it seemed witchers were a dying breed nowadays, but Triss had wanted a challenge.

Unfortunately, she got one.

"I'm so sorry, I don't— I'm not trying to ignore you, I promise," Triss apologized, taking the offered glass of wine from the other woman's outstretched hand. She smiled at her shyly, dipping her head in gratitude. Although there were times when Yennefer felt closer to a friend than she did a mentor, that usually did not come until after they both had drank their fill. Right now, though, Yennefer of Vengerberg was still immensely intimidating, so Triss kept her tone respectful as she explained her current dilemma. "I'm glad you came by, Yennefer. I just— it's my thesis, honestly. I need a witcher! But how on earth am I supposed to find one when all I keep hearing is that they're practically going extinct? Ugh. Maybe I should just start over; choose something with a more attainable goal…"

"You need a witcher?" Yennefer questioned, intrigued. Now that she had Triss' attention, she found herself an armchair and placed herself in it as she questioned her protégé with growing interest. "What is your thesis on, exactly?"

"The manipulation of runes to compliment witcher signs," Triss answered, feeling a little flustered as she paced back and forth. She gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke, once more getting caught up in her academic anxieties. "I believe if I can turn them into glyphs they may work, but I do not have a way to test it without a witcher, and unfortunately I do not even know where to begin in finding one."

Yennefer's nails clicked against the glass nestled in her palm. She was silent for a moment. "I may be able to help you," she cautiously revealed after she took a long sip of wine. "However, if you do not stop your incessant pacing I may not want to."

Triss immediately stopped, flushed with guilt, and sat. The chair creaked beneath her weight, and for a brief moment, Triss was concerned that Yennefer might think her fat because of it.

"There. That's better, isn't it?"

Not really. Triss was so sleep deprived that she was now concerning herself with ridiculous insecurities which could never lead anywhere good. The young sorceress rubbed her eyes, forgetting for a moment that she had makeup on. It smeared down her cheek, and Yennefer sighed.

"You really know a witcher?" Triss asked, oblivious to what she was doing.

"I know a great many people," Yennefer answered noncommittally before she exhaled an impatient breath, gesturing toward her. "Come here. You've made an absolute mess of yourself again." Although she wasn't sure what she had done this time, Triss quickly obliged her. She probably shouldn't have sat so far away anyway, but she had gotten flustered when Yennefer ordered her to stop pacing.

"I don't know why I expected that you would be able to get Philippa's attention; you are far too oblivious to the world around you," Yennefer chastised once the other woman sat next to her. She used thumb to try to wipe off the dark mark on Triss' cheek but the young woman quickly jerked away from her touch, wondering if she really heard what she thought she just heard.

She gaped at Yennefer. "Wait— what?"

"Ah, now I see I have your attention."

"Philippa Eilhart?" Triss questioned with surprise. Though it seemed unfathomable, that was the only 'Philippa' that she knew of, so she had to make sure. "The polymorph? Member of the Council of Mages? Sorceress of Tretogor? That Philippa?"

"You speak about her as though she is something to be revered," Yennefer noted in distaste, and Triss' cheeks colored in embarrassment. "Believe me, she is not. I will be the first to admit that she is both incredibly talented and well-connected, but her personality could use some work. But no matter. It is not her personality that I think you could benefit from. I heard she is looking for a new apprentice, and I believe it would benefit you to apply for the position."

Triss blinked in surprise, and it was that hesitation that finally allowed Yennefer the moment she needed to reach out and wipe the makeup from the young woman's freckled cheek. "You must keep up appearances though if this is something you feel you may be interested in. Philippa is nothing if not shallow."

"You… you actually think that she would be interested in me?" Triss asked, flabbergasted. She ran her palms across her knees, using the fabric to combat the clammy feeling that suddenly arose. She was nervous. "But I'm nobody."

"You are certainly not nobody," Yennefer scolded, her eyes narrowing. "And you'd do well to never let me hear you speak of yourself that way again. It's incredibly insulting if you believe that I have nothing better to do than be here with some mediocre student."

Triss flushed, practically hiding behind her wine glass. "No, I— I didn't mean to imply that. I'm grateful you check up on me so often, Yenna. And I know that you do it for a reason." She took a meek sip, and Yennefer's eyes softened.

"I know what it's like to feel as if you're not good enough," Yennefer told her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Triss' knee. "You are not the only one who grew up feeling ugly, alone, and unwanted. But those days are behind you now - remember that. Now, you hold your head high and you demand the respect you deserve, because you are powerful, Triss. Don't ever forget that."

Triss smiled, grateful for her words. Yennefer was awfully demanding and intimidating at times, yes, but she could also be very kind.

But then the young girl's brow crinkled as she looked down at her hands, smoothing them out against her dress once more. "…Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

Triss looked up at her, trying to not look as vulnerable as she felt. "Do you really have no plans to take an apprentice yourself, or…?"

"Or, what? Do you think that I actually do want an apprentice and am deceiving you because you would not be my first choice? Do you think I'm merely trying to pawn you off on someone else, and that is why I'm suggesting this arrangement?" Yennefer teased, amused by the insinuation as she apparently found it entirely ridiculous. "Don't feel put out; you know very well that I do not have time for such a commitment. But I assure you, Triss, even if for some reason I were trying to pawn you off on somebody else, I wouldn't have set my sights as high as Philippa Eilhart. That woman is incredibly selective. Even with my recommendation, I do not know if she will choose you. You may have to sleep with her first."

Triss choked on her own breath, and Yennefer laughed.

"That's not funny," Triss mumbled, embarrassed. She had nearly turned purple at the thought. Not that Philippa wasn't beautiful, because she was. Triss had attended quite a few of her lectures over the years (okay, fine, every single one), and the woman was absolutely breathtaking. But that was the problem - she was too attractive, too successful, too intimidating, too… everything. And although the thought of being with another woman intrigued her, Triss had not yet experienced such a thing and was afraid she would make a fool of herself if she were made to before she felt ready.

And Triss was fairly certain that she would never feel ready to sleep with someone like Philippa. She was the type of person you slept with after you've already proven yourself by satisfying all of her lessers. She was the type you brought multiple glowing letters of recommendation to with the hope that she might finally allow you the pleasure of licking her boots, let alone anything else.

Triss squirmed in her chair, the thought of doing something so degrading unexpectedly turning her on. Oh no.

Yennefer looked at her, eyebrow quirked. Triss hoped beyond anything else in that moment that the other woman could not read her mind. She had never in her life even had a passing thought of that caliber before, and now was not the time to learn that she might be a lot less traditional than she had originally assumed she was. She needed privacy for that. She needed quite a lot of privacy for that.

"Come to think of it, it wouldn't surprise me if Philippa had some kind of fetish for corrupting the innocent," Yennefer casually mentioned as she leaned back in her chair, appraising her. "I wasn't serious before, but this blushing schoolgirl act may work in your favor after all. Are you a virgin?"

"No!"

For some reason, Triss felt offended by the question. She may not have a lot of experience, but she certainly was not a child. The only reason she was getting a little embarrassed about it was because she was intimidated. The thought of being thrown in the deep end with Philippa made her feel like she was drowning, and it scared Triss a little. At the end of the day, she just didn't feel good enough. Academically, magically, or… otherwise.

"I wasn't trying to offend you, Triss."

"I just… I don't want to get an apprenticeship solely because my mentor wishes to 'corrupt' my 'innocence' – whatever that's supposed to mean," Triss stuttered, trying very hard to be the confident woman that she wished to be; that Yennefer wanted her to be. "That cheapens it, doesn't it? I'm talented enough. I should get the apprenticeship because I deserve it, not because I'm attractive."

Yennefer smiled. It was genuine; she looked like she was proud of her, and Triss sat up a little straighter in her chair. Maybe she was getting the hang of this confidence thing after all.

"And it is that attitude that will get you it. Philippa may find naivety attractive, but she respects power and talent far more. Do not forget that."

Triss tried not to. But when she was on her way to the meeting that Yennefer had set up for her, she began to rely on her appearance more than she should have. She was wearing a loose tunic that was cut rather low between her breasts, her wavy chestnut hair swept to the side over her shoulder. The young woman's cornflower eyes seemed brighter while surrounded by dark makeup, her glossed lips pursed in anxiety as she held her academic theories and research portfolio tight to her chest as she made her way down the long hallway. She just wanted to make an impression and considering Philippa seemed to have a weakness for women, in the end she decided it wouldn't hurt to just put a little extra effort into her appearance in order to stand out.

However, she he was not, in any way, going to cheapen this opportunity by being suggestive towards her. Although Triss was certain she would hate herself if she actually had to pass up the chance to sleep with a woman like Philippa Eilhart, she also didn't want to become the type of person who needed to sleep their way to the top, because she didn't.

She didn't because she was talented; she was powerful and could become a great asset to someone like Philippa,and today she was going to prove it.

…Hopefully.

Triss' knock on the door was more hesitant than she wanted it to be and she silently berated herself and stood up straighter, hoping that would make up for it. The voice that beckoned her in sounded distracted, and Triss silently pushed the door open with her free hand. The office she entered was one for guest lecturers – primarily members of the Council. Yennefer had taken up residency in this very room a few times, so it was not a strange place to Triss. Yet even still, with all its familiarity, when Triss entered she felt like she was somehow intruding.

Philippa did not even look at her. She was standing in front of the fireplace, staring intently into a book. Her dark hair was twisted back into a long braid, the brilliant red of her dress intensified in the light of the fire. She almost seemed to glow, and Triss swallowed hard as she stared at her. She had only seen Philippa from a distance before, and up close the woman looked much younger than Triss would have guessed. It was probably a ridiculous observation, as most sorceresses halted their aging in their early twenties, but the way Philippa spoke during her lectures made her sound far more mature than her appearance let on, and so it was a little unsettling to look upon a woman who could easily be mistaken for Triss' age. Even Yennefer looked older than Philippa, albeit not by much.

"Sit down," Philippa instructed, forcing Triss from her thoughts. The sorceress still did not spare her a glance which Triss found both very intimidating and very rude, but she did as she was instructed anyway, and sat in the seat opposite of the desk in the center of the room.

Silence.

Finally, Philippa spared her a glance over her book. It seemed like it was meant to be brief, yet her gaze lingered just a little too long on her before she finally tore her eyes away. "Merigold, is it?" she questioned, sounding altogether disinterested. Triss' heart beat just a little bit faster in her chest.

"Triss," she confirmed. She was immensely thankful that her voice didn't shake.

Philippa responded with a noncommittal noise before finally closing her book and stepping away from the fireplace. She stared at her guest for a moment before crossing the space between them, coming to a stop behind her desk.

"Yennefer's recommendation," Philippa stated, although the way she spoke made it seem almost as though she were accusing her of something. She suddenly dropped her book on top of Triss' portfolio, the thickness of it eliciting a startling noise. Triss felt like she nearly jumped out of her skin, and her fingers suddenly curled into a fist.

Was she trying to scare her? Why?

Triss sat up a little straighter, resolved not to get frightened off by cheap intimidation tactics. And it was strange, honestly, because if Philippa had treated her kindly and spoken to her with interest, Triss would have been immensely intimidated by her. This, however? This just made her angry, which at least gave Triss the confidence boost that she needed.

"Yes," she said strongly, making certain to keep eye contact with the other woman. "She informed me that an apprenticeship with you would be a unique opportunity for me to continue my studies in a non-traditional way. I was told that you are often experimenting with new magics, and I would like to be a part of that discovery process."

"A lot of people would," Philippa frankly responded. She finally sat in the chair across from Triss, her gaze piercing as she assessed the woman before her. "Tell me why I should choose you over them, Triss Merigold. What are you, twenty-five? Thirty, at best. You're barely more than a child. I have sorceresses far older and far more skilled than you willing to lick my cunt for such an opportunity. Are you prepared to offer me the same?"

Triss involuntarily flushed but stood her ground. Yennefer must have suggested an apprenticeship with her for a reason, and although Triss wasn't overly fond of this kind of vetting process, she had to believe that this would be worth it. Perhaps Philippa only did this to weed out the weak-willed; the spineless, ones unable to stand up for themselves. Yennefer did mention that Philippa respected power and talent, after all. All of that was wasted without confidence, which Triss was quickly learning.

And she was not going to waste this.

"I'm prepared to offer you better because, with all due respect Lady Eilhart, there is no one more skilled than I at this school, and I think my talent and eagerness to learn will outweigh any of the… other benefits you may be offered," Triss responded, her voice steady and self-assured. Inside she was positively screaming with anxiety, but her desire to not squander an opportunity so rare kept those feelings at bay while she sought to become the sorceress she was meant to.

The corner of Philippa's mouth twitched in amusement. Suddenly, the younger woman felt like she could relax as the mood in the atmosphere changed. After pushing her book aside, Philippa reached for Triss' portfolio to actually take a look at it. Finally, she seemed interested in her as she prompted, "Go on."

"I know I might be young, but I mastered psychokinesis before I was fourteen," Triss eagerly continued, now a little excited to be able to list her qualifications. "I am able to practice Oneiromancy without the use of intoxicants with a seventy eight percent success rate, and I am working on a theory that practicing psionics are able to share emotions as well as thoughts, although I have no one to test my hypothesis with, so for now that's all it remains."

Philippa did not look impressed, but she didn't look unimpressed either. "And what about Goetia?" she asked, much more casually than the question called for, considering its subject matter. She continued to flip through Triss' portfolio, her eyes skimming page after page. "Necromancy?"

Triss' stomach tightened in her gut. Was this a trick question? "Those areas of magic are forbidden."

Philippa just stared at her. Time ticked onward.

"…I've read quite a bit about them," Triss finally admitted, sounding guilty. She didn't even know why she admitted it; something in Philippa's expectant gaze made it seem like she already knew the answer to the questions she was asking. She just prayed she did not tell Tissaia, as just a mere rumor was enough to get her thrown from Aretuza.

"Good."

Triss looked up at her in surprise.

"If you do not learn about the mistakes others have made, you are doomed to repeat them. I won't have that kind of idiocy around me; it is bad enough that I'm forced to watch it happen politically more often than I'd care to admit. Men, you'll soon come to realize, will repeatedly seek our council, yet refuse to listen."

Triss had heard the rumors that Philippa had recently been chosen as King Vizimir's advisor, and now resided in Redania's court. But if that were true, did that mean if she was chosen as Philippa's apprentice that she would have to return with her? Would Tissaia even allow her to leave? Would King Vizimir allow her to stay in a court, in a country that was not her own?

"Even kings?" Triss asked, curious.

"Especially kings."

Triss chewed on her bottom lip. "Then why bother?" she asked. "Why advise them if they do not take our suggestions seriously?"

"Power is not something you can just grab hold of quickly. It's something you gather, little by little, until you find yourself overflowing with it," Philippa explained. Finally, Triss felt like the woman actually cared to speak with her, and it made her feel infinitely better. She listened intently, recognizing that she could learn a lot from her. "But power is what we need should we wish to finally change what needs to be changed. It was a mistake when we as a sex collectively allowed men to rule the world. I wish to rectify that problem, but something of that caliber takes time, resources."

"So… if I were to become your apprentice, I would have a part in that?" Triss asked, intrigued. That sounded… important. Exciting.

Although the woman did not smile, Triss could see in Philippa's eyes that she approved of her interest. "If you'd like." Triss pursed her lips as though she were considering it, but her eager nod followed much too quickly for there to have been any sort of internal debate.

"This will not be a traditional apprenticeship, however."

Triss' brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I wish to try a technique called 'leashing'. It is experimental, but considering you eagerly assured me that you want to be a part of the 'discovery process' of any unknown magic that I'd like to perform, that shouldn't be a problem for you."

It sounded almost like a challenge, and it unnerved Triss a little. She had never heard of this technique before, and she was unsure what to expect. "Are you offering me the apprenticeship?" she asked, needing to know that, first and foremost.

"That depends. Do you consent to my leashing you?"

Triss narrowed her eyes. A part of her was immensely excited that it seemed as though Philippa truly did want her, but another part of herself reminded her that only fools rush in blind. "Explain to me what it is, and I might."

The corner of Philippa's mouth twitched, although Triss was unsure if it was in amusement or because she actually approved of her being smart enough to question her experimental methods. "Leashing involves a pupil being bound to their master in body, mind, and magic," she explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "It is not something to undertake lightly, but if you accept, I will be able to share my magic with you and instruct you in ways that would be otherwise be impossible if I were to only rely on verbal communication. It is intimate, it is at times invasive, but if you consent to this, Triss, it will make you vastly more powerful, and from the look in your eyes, that seems to be exactly what you are looking for."

Triss hated that her eyes had betrayed her, but Philippa was not wrong; ever since she resigned to her fate as a sorceress, she had wanted to become one that was powerful, one that was important. Because otherwise, what was the point? So even if this wasn't easy, even if it was invasive and uncomfortable at times, shouldn't the advantages outweigh the rest? She had come to Philippa to learn, and in the end, that was what the woman was offering her.

"Alright," Triss responded after she thought everything over. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake, but only time would tell. For now, though, she chose to be optimistic as she made eye contact with her new mentor, and nodded in agreement. "I consent."

TBC…