II.

"How does that feel?"

Triss struggled to swallow, the dimeritium collar around her neck feeling simultaneously much too hot, yet much too cold. It was absolutely disorienting and to be quite frank, she hated it. She could not feel her magic anymore and it made Triss feel… lost. Helpless. The young sorceress squirmed in her seat.

"It's… a little tight. Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Unless you wish to physically explode once our combined magic becomes too great for you to bear, then yes, it is," Philippa insisted, her tone dismissive enough to make Triss purse her lips, vowing to stay silent. She did not wish to start out this apprenticeship by irritating the other woman, which apparently questioning her methods was doing. "Contrary to the rumors that circulate this school, I do not actually go through my apprentices quickly because I enjoy killing them with experimental magics."

Triss' eyes widened. She did not hear that, actually. Why didn't she hear that?!

"I go through them because they end up being incompetent and not worth my time: two things that I'm certain you will prove to me that you're not," Philippa stressed as she circled her, inspecting the collar for weaknesses. Triss felt like she was being put on display and bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to make direct eye contact.

It was two days after the initial interview, and Triss had officially been named Philippa's apprentice. They still resided in Aretuza, although Philippa did mention that she would speak to Tissaia about bringing her back to Redania. For now, though, they occupied the office that Philippa seemed to have claimed as her own. The woman had sat Triss down in a large armchair in the middle of the room without even so much as a hello, and now Triss had a collar around her neck that was both dampening her magic and causing her to question her life choices.

"Try using your magic," Philippa instructed as she took a step back from the woman in the chair.

"To do what?"

"Anything. The process is unimportant; I only desire to know the outcome."

Triss' mind went blank. Suddenly, it was as though she couldn't remember how to do a damn thing, and it was probably the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to her. Philippa kept looking at her expectantly, and so Triss panicked and insisted, "—It didn't work." Because that was what the collar was supposed to do, right; prevent her from doing magic? Triss had read about dimeritium before but had never experienced it firsthand until now. Either way, even without trying, she certainly felt like she no longer had magic.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had only convinced herself of this.

"Why are you lying to me? I asked you to do a simple thing. If you do not wish to oblige me, Triss, I will dissolve this apprenticeship right now. Do not waste my time."

Triss blushed crimson. "I'm— I'm sorry. I just… you asked and I— I blanked," she admitted, feeling foolish. "I don't know why."

"Of course you know why, but if you actually wish to accomplish anything during your time with me, then you must either learn to stand at my side as my equal, or do as I say beneath my boot. I do not care which you choose, but I'd rather you do it quickly so that we can get on with this. I do not have all day."

Oh. Well, that was blunter than Triss was expecting, although she wasn't sure why she would assume otherwise; Philippa did not seem the type to be subtle in any area of her life, so why would academically be any different? The problem was, even this was making Triss lose her train of thought, and suddenly she felt so very stupid and small. Why did she do this to herself? She was so talented, so why didn't she have the confidence to match?

"I see you're unable to choose, so the choice you've made by default is obvious. Look at me," Philippa demanded, grasping the young woman's chin in her hand, forcing Triss' gaze to meet hers. It was piercing, and something tightened in the base of Triss' stomach. "If you want to continue to be intimidated by me, I do not care, just do as I ask. Now."

"Yes, sorry— I'm sorry, " Triss stumbled, before she did the first thing that came to mind, and attempted to conjure a flower. Suddenly, she understood why Philippa knew she was lying as it felt like shards of glass ran through her veins. Triss shut her eyes and clenched her fist, trying very hard not to scream. She exhaled loudly through her nose, the corners of her eyes beginning to water as she tried to breathe through the pain.

"Good, it's working. At the very least, that means it will protect your body from being overwhelmed with power once I bind us together. Lesser sorceresses have tried this to devastating ends and considering I still have uses for you, I don't plan to have someone mop your remains off the floor," Philippa told her as she let go of her chin. Triss blanched. Perhaps she should have inquired about the risks before agreeing to this, as it now seemed far more dangerous than Triss had been expecting.

Did she truly trust Philippa enough to keep her safe?

"And stop apologizing," Philippa demanded as an afterthought as she stepped away from her, grabbing a book off her desk before flipping through it. "You can live beneath my heel without having to grovel at my feet. If you do something wrong, just do it right next time."

"I'm—" Philippa shot her a look of warning over the book, cutting Triss' instinctual apology off mid-sentence. The young woman swallowed. "…I'll work on it."

"Good."

Philippa turned back to her book, her finger skimming the pages as she looked for something specific. Triss sat silently in her chair, not really knowing what to do with herself now. She wasn't even sure what she just agreed to either. The worst part about it all was the implication that she wished for Philippa to practically step on her, because Triss had a very unexpected and very vivid fantasy that was quite adjacent to something like that the other day. But the thing of it was, if left with the choice of being Philippa's equal or her lesser, Triss found that she was infinitely more comfortable being beneath her.

What did that even say about her? Was that pathetic, or was it a natural reaction to one's mentor? Triss knew she would feel like an impostor if she tried to act as though she were on Philippa's level, so why should she bother pretending? She wasn't there yet, and both of them knew it. This was just… easier. Simpler.

Except it wasn't easy or simple at all, and now Triss had no idea how she was meant to act, or what she was and was not allowed to do. But she had some concerns, so the young sorceress cleared her throat uncomfortably, looking up at the woman who was practically towering over her. "Lady Eilhart?" she inquired finally, her voice a little more hesitant than normal.

"When I wish for you to speak, pet, I'll tell you," Philippa dismissed, still sounding distracted as she leafed through the book in her hands. She glanced up at her, albeit briefly. "And do not call me that. It is bad enough I have to be addressed that way in Court."

Triss pursed her lips, the tips of her ears burning hot. "Philippa…?" she corrected, though she did not sound very sure of herself. It seemed far too… intimate, to be calling the woman by her given name. It implied a sense of closeness that Triss knew they did not have. Everything just felt wrong, and it was obvious Triss was second-guessing herself quite terribly. Philippa noticed and finally allowed her eyes to rest on the woman in front of her.

"If you feel the need to call me an authoritative name, you may use 'Mistress'. You certainly would not be the first to call me that, and it isn't as though it's unheard of in an apprenticeship. It's just rather outdated."

"Mistress," Triss repeated. She found it flowed off her tongue easier, although it did make her feel a tad embarrassed that that was what made her feel comfortable. Lately she was learning quite a lot about herself that was surprising her, and she wasn't entirely sure how to process it.

"No wonder Yennefer likes you; you're very talented, yet awfully subservient," Philippa mentioned, a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of her lips. "I bet when you lick her cunt it makes her feel powerful. Considering that feeling happens so infrequently for her, I'm sure that's something she rather enjoys."

Triss nearly choked on her breath. "What? No! I don't—"

"I don't care, honestly. What you do in your personal time isn't something I'm concerned with, and if you wish to turn this apprenticeship into some kind of fetish I'll oblige you, so long as I get results," Philippa responded bluntly, making Triss suck in a sharp breath. How did they get here? Did she get them there, or was Philippa just talking in circles to get Triss to believe that this was something she suggested, when in reality this was just a product of Philippa's manipulation? Triss was so terribly, terribly confused and even worse, more than a little turned on.

"But remember, I did not choose you because you'd look good cleaning my boots with your tongue. I chose you because you're both very skilled and incredibly intelligent, so go on, pet… what was it that you were going to say?"

What… what just happened?

Did she just become Philippa's bitch?

Triss didn't have long to evaluate her new situation, though, as Philippa was looking at her expectantly. "I… only wanted to know if you had considered how the dimeritium might affect you, Mistress," Triss explained, inwardly excited to have been asked and for her opinion to be considered, even though it didn't seem like Philippa ever wished to dismiss her as unimportant. "Binding our magic together would allow you to access my power as much as it would allow me to access yours, right? But what if the dimeritium doesn't just act as a shield to keep me from violently expelling the magic when it becomes too great, but also as a barrier that prevents anything from getting in? It could ricochet, couldn't it? That could be dangerous."

That actually seemed to give Philippa pause. "…You may be right," she confessed, her brow knitting as she considered the possibility. She closed her book then, placing it back on the desk. "Perhaps if we lessened the amount of dimeritium; a single cuff instead of a collar. Take that off."

Triss reached back and quickly undid the clasp, glad to be rid of the thing. Finally, she felt whole again, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The heavy collar landed in her lap, and Triss looked back up at Philippa, who was still frowning. "Damnit. I was hoping to do this today, but I'll need to get a cuff made," she told her, sounding a little frustrated with herself that this wasn't something she had already thought of. "Those who make things out of dimeritium desire to capture mages with them, so they all require a lock and key. I will not shackle you though; that is not something our kind should ever endure, even experimentally."

No wonder the collar had been easy to remove. At first Triss thought Philippa might have just modified one that had been used for prisoners, but it made sense that she had it specially made for her purposes. Even recycled and put to better use, in the end it was still something that had hurt their people, and that was not something either of them wanted to touch.

"How long will it take?" Triss asked, then second-guessed herself for even asking. Did Philippa want her to keep conversing with her? She wasn't sure.

It seems she did though, as Philippa did not lecture her about speaking out of turn. "A couple days, but I will be in Redania for at least a fortnight, which was why I wanted to do this today. I wished to see if our bond would withstand long distances, but now it seems I'll have to wait to test that theory."

"You're— you're leaving?" Triss practically stuttered, suddenly feeling very put out. "Can I not come with you?" Philippa just side-eyed her, and Triss quickly amended her question with the formality and respect of her mentor's title. "Mistress. I'm sor— no, I'm not sorry, I was just…" Triss tried, feeling a little flustered until she finally organized her thoughts, realized what it was she wanted, and sat up a little straighter as she looked Philippa in the eye. "I would like to come with you, Mistress. If that's alright."

The corner of Philippa's mouth quirked into a small smile. "Believe me, pet, I wish that you could," she told her with sincerity. She reached out then, gently tucking an errand strand of hair behind the young sorceress' ear. Triss practically went purple from holding her breath, her eyes widening. "I detest acquiring new toys and having to wait to break them in, but your education must come first, as I was so thoroughly reminded by your Arch-Mistress." Philippa sounded bitter, and she did not try to hide the roll of her eyes.

Tissaia wouldn't let her leave? The news made Triss noticeably deflate. "But isn't my apprenticeship with you a continuance of my education?"

"One would think," Philippa responded dryly, looking positively irritated with being told that she was not a worthy substitution. "But she wishes for you to present your end-of-year thesis first, and then I may bring you wherever I'd like. So let's finish that sooner rather than later, shall we? What do you need in order to speed this along?"

Triss blinked. "You… you want to help me?"

"Am I not your mentor? Don't ask ridiculous questions. Come; tell me what your thesis is on," Philippa asked as she sat on the small settee near the door. Triss bit her bottom lip, a wave of anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach. Philippa sat in such a way that it made anywhere she resided seem like a throne, and although there was a room next to her on the long cushion, Triss was absolutely terrified to sit there. What if she accidentally touched her or something?

Not that— well, obviously she would like to touch her if she was allowed to, but touching her seemed… disrespectful, even if it was an accidental brush of the knee or…

Triss stood up and crossed the distance between them. She was fairly certain she wasn't breathing, and Philippa seemed to notice. She narrowed her eyes, as if somehow dissecting her. "Sit," she encouraged, and Triss sat. She was practically squeezing her legs together though, her hands on her knees so that she wouldn't take up that much room.

"I'm not going to bite you, you know. Well, not unless you ask very nicely."

The tips of Triss' ears turned pink. God, she couldn't even imagine…

"I know. I'm…" Triss almost apologized again, yet clamped her mouth shut and rolled her eyes at her own idiocy. Finally, she admitted, "I'm just… very intimidated by you. That's all." She looked down at her hands, unable to meet Philippa's gaze. "And I know that I— I tried to be confident in our interview, but that's only who I wish I was, not who I am. I thought I could keep it up, but being this close to you is… a lot. You are… someone that I idolize very much; I've been to all your lectures, and I think you're fascinating. I don't know; maybe I'm just afraid that I'm going to screw this up."

The corners of Philippa's lips upturned. "You flatter me."

"I mean it."

"I know you do," Philippa responded understandingly, reaching out again to try to keep the hair from falling in Triss' eyes. Her touch was gentle, and all Triss could think about was wanting more of it. "But I think what you fail to realize is that most of us go through this. It is a rarity that we are not born damaged, after all. Something like that stays with you for a very long time, but it will not stay forever. You will soon learn your worth, and one day you will want to sit beside me on this couch."

Triss cast her gaze downward, ashamed at how small she wished to feel. Why couldn't she just allow herself to take up space? To be present?

"However, you don't have to continue sitting here if it's making you uncomfortable," Philippa reminded her, noticing her body language. "Just because I offered, does not mean you're obliged to do it."

Triss' brow knit in confusion. "I thought I had to obey you."

"I offered you a choice, but that choice doesn't go away once you've made it. I don't want to control you, you're free to do as you'd like; I just thought it would make things easier for you if you didn't have to think so much."

"Maybe it did," Triss admitted softly. She pursed her lips before she finally gave into her anxieties, listened to Philippa, and slid off the cushion until she was sitting on her knees on the rug. Finally, Triss felt like she could breathe, and her whole body noticeably relaxed.

"There are other chairs, you know."

"I'm fine here," Triss assured her, because all the other chairs were far away, and the whole process of dragging one over seemed tedious and embarrassing. Sitting by the other woman's feet was just easier, even though it probably did nothing to assure Triss that she wasn't some kind of freak just desperately wishing for a woman of Philippa's caliber to step on her because it would finally make her feel like she was where she belonged.

Wow. Perhaps she was more damaged by her childhood than she thought.

"If you say so." Philippa settled back against the cushions, looking down at the woman at her feet. "Although I should inform you that I wasn't actually serious when I suggested you clean my boots with your tongue; you're just so easy to fluster, and it amused me."

Oh. Great. Not that that was what Triss planned to do down here, but now that just made her look perverted.

"You have far better uses than a doormat, Triss Merigold. I will not degrade you and become an outlet for the self-hatred your useless parents no doubt projected onto you. I will, however, treat you as a one would a cherished pet, should you not feel ready to be anything more than that yet," Philippa told her, reaching out to weave her fingers through a mane of chestnut locks. Her fingernails scraped her skull and Triss instinctively closed her eyes, exhaling a content sigh.

Maybe she wasn't as damaged as she thought, because this seemed like the far more pleasant option and what Triss realized she was missing. Was that all she was then, just some kicked puppy that was starved for affection? Maybe that's what they all were, at one time or another. Maybe that's why Philippa knew and why she was so content to oblige her.

"Now, will you tell me about your thesis? I've been very patient with you, but even I have my limits."

Triss smiled, happy to hear the interest in the other sorceress' voice despite the clear warning to speed things along. So, as she looked up at her and began to eagerly explain what it was that she hoped to achieve, Triss found herself infinitely glad that despite this strange arrangement she had agreed to, she felt acknowledged, appreciated, and ready to learn as much as she could so that one day she might be as great a sorceress as Philippa Eilhart herself.

TBC…