IV.

Triss' chest heaved as she breathed heavily through her nose. She was trying desperately not to scream, and tiny beads of sweat began to litter her brow as she stared deep into Philippa's eyes. The older woman sat across from her on the floor, their positions mirrored as they grasped tightly to each other's forearms. The dimeritium cuff that was fastened around Triss' left wrist burned against her skin and she pursed her lips as all of Philippa's magic poured into her with such ferocity that she was fairly certain she might pass out.

When Triss had gone against Yennefer's recommendation and found Philippa not twenty minutes after she said that she would be retiring to bed, she had still been so terribly concerned with how the mandrake was going to make her act. As it turned out, Triss did not have to worry about that, as the leashing process was far more intense than anything she had ever felt before. It took every ounce of her strength to keep herself conscious, therefore leaving very little else for her to focus on.

"Breathe," Philippa instructed, her own chest heaving with the overwhelming sensation. A bead of sweat fell from her chin, getting lost in her cleavage. "You are stronger than this, Triss. Look at me. Look at me."

Triss hadn't realized her eyesight had gone a little fuzzy until Philippa had demanded her attention. She uncrossed her eyes in an attempt to focus on the woman in front of her. "I don't… know if I can."

She had thought the dimeritium would make her unable to feel this process, but as it turned out, there was a delicate formula when it came to the metal's magic-suppressing abilities, and their combined strength had most certainly overwhelmed it. Triss couldn't even imagine how this would have felt without the cuff, though, as even with the suppression, this was teetering on the edge of something she could not handle and it nearly frustrated her to tears, because she did not want to look weak in front of Philippa. She wanted to be useful, she wanted to be enough for someone, for once…

"You can. Stop crying; you are enough, and you can do this. Look at me, pet. Do not just listen to what I'm telling you, feel it. Feel me, I am in there."

Triss exhaled a shuddered gasp, the tears she hadn't realized that had leaked out from her eyes causing black streaks down her cheeks. She could; she could feel Philippa almost as though she were a part of herself, and yet despite her assumptions, she felt no disappointment from her. Philippa actually, truly, had faith in her and her abilities, and the realization made Triss even more emotional as she choked back a sob. It was just so unexpected that she did not know how to process it in this raw, vulnerable state, and she began to tremble.

"I will find whoever robbed you of your light and burn everything they love to the ground," Philippa told her, able to feel Triss' emotions as much as she could her own. They devastated her in a way she was only able to express in a violent, helpless anger as the feeling of inadequacy tried to suck her dry as they had her apprentice. "Your mother, your father, the first boy who ever made you cry. I will set you free, Triss Merigold; all you have to do is trust me."

"I trust you," Triss breathed without question, as she could not fathom a world anymore where she did not. Philippa seemed so intertwined with her now that she could not remember how it felt to be without her, and she exhaled in synchronicity with the woman bound to her.

"Then trust yourself, and trust that you will not hurt me," Philippa instructed her, placing her free hand on the clasp of Triss' cuff. "When I unfasten this, you must reverse the channel. If you do not return it, the leashing will be incomplete. Are you ready?"

"No," Triss answered honestly, but she knew it was only her insecurities talking. They were immediately suffocated however, no doubt by Philippa's intervention. "Yes," Triss corrected herself, and Philippa smiled. She was so beautiful when she genuinely smiled; it lit up her entire face and…

…and Philippa's smile widened. Oh no.

But Triss did not have time to be embarrassed by the fact that Philippa knew exactly what she was thinking. Philippa released the clasp on the cuff and the metal clanged loudly against the stone floor. Triss reacted on instinct as she was flooded with more magic than she knew what to do with, and desperately tried to send some back from whence it came. Philippa gasped loudly, her face turning a little purple. Unlike Triss, she did not wear a dimeritium cuff when she received the magic, and Triss was starting to fear that that was a mistake.

She could feel what Philippa wanted, however, and so although it pained her to do so, Triss did not reach for the cuff even after a blood-curdling scream ripped its way passed the older woman's lips. Triss went terribly pale at the sound, her grip on the other woman tightening to the point that her fingertips were sure to leave bruises on Philippa's arm.

"Talk to me," Triss pleaded, needing to know she was alright. "Please."

Philippa wheezed. "You… absolute idiot." Triss' heart dropped in her stomach, but the woman's next words were not derogatory at all. "You are… so much more powerful than you believe. This is…" She let her head hang back then as she laughed, before the final wave hit her at full force and the sound that escaped from Philippa's lips wasn't quite agonizing anymore, but almost… enjoyable.

Suddenly, the connection was broken.

Both women toppled over backwards, Triss landing on her elbows as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hair stuck to her forehead and her neck, her clothes uncomfortably drenched in sweat, and yet she did not care. She felt… different. She felt good. A little lightheaded, sure, but…

Philippa's gaze caught hers, and Triss' breathing shallowed. It was as though she could still feel her inside of her, all around her, and yet it wasn't nearly as intense as when they were connected. Still, it was an acute reminder that her body and mind was no longer just her own, and Triss pursed her lips as she realized that she went from such terrible isolation, to being bound to another in a rather semi-permanent way.

What did that mean, exactly?

But Triss did not have time to think about it, as she suddenly felt dizzy. "—Damnit," Philippa swore as she watched her apprentice slump over. Triss hadn't even realized she had lost consciousness until her eyes found their focus on a woman hovering over her. She was no longer on the floor but on the settee in the corner of the room, her Mistress sitting next to her on the edge of the cushion. Philippa's lips were pursed into a thin line, her brow creased as she looked over her.

"Perhaps using the dimeritium was a mistake," she mused, noting how pale Triss suddenly looked. "I had thought it would make the transition safer for you, but I underestimated your power. I will not do that again." Her hand touched the young woman's forehead, and Triss' eyes widened as she held her breath. Thank the Gods the effects of the mandrake seemed to have worn off, otherwise Triss would have probably ruined a perfectly good pair of undergarments.

(Oh, who was she kidding? She didn't need the mandrake for that, and of course they were already ruined.)

"You may feel weak for a few hours," Philippa warned her, finally removing her hand from her skin. Triss exhaled. "Suppressing the magic and then allowing you to feel it all at once seems to have overwhelmed your body. While I am glad the leashing process did not leave either of us with any lasting damage, I regret that I believed you to be too weak to handle the extent of it without a buffer. You are… certainly not weak, and I am very glad that I chose you. I believe with our combined magics we will be able to achieve things that others can only dare speculate about, but first we will have to work on your self-confidence; it hinders you far more than you probably realize and because we are now bound together, that in turn hinders me."

Oh.

Triss colored, feeling terribly guilty and ashamed. It was one thing when this only affected herself, but now she had unwittingly subjected Philippa to the same thing? The worst part of it all was that during the first day of her apprenticeship, Philippa had mentioned that most sorceresses were born damaged. Did that mean that she was as well? Did Philippa once feel very small, very unworthy and weak in comparison to those around her? Looking at the woman now, Triss couldn't fathom it. But if she had, then that meant Philippa had spent so much time and effort trying to claw her way out of the hole of self-despair, only to now be bound to someone who had sunk so far into it.

And that wasn't fair to her.

"…I'm sorry."

Philippa clicked her tongue in distaste. "What did I tell you about apologizing?"

Triss pursed her lips, keeping her silence. She understood what Philippa hoped to gain with teaching her to be unapologetic, but sometimes she could not help how she felt, and right now she felt as though she needed to apologize for what Philippa had gotten stuck with. "Mistress… can I ask you something?"

"Mm," Philippa muttered noncommittally, idly brushing a piece of errant hair from the young woman's forehead. Triss' breathing shallowed a little bit at the gesture, but the more Philippa touched her, the more used to it she became. It wasn't really affectionate per say; more like she was grooming her.

"What was your childhood like?"

Philippa looked down at her, expression unreadable. "You want to know if I was once like you."

Triss pursed her lips and nodded. While she knew many sorceresses had difficult upbringings, it would mean something to her if Philippa did as well. Not that Triss wished something like that upon her, but if she did grow up ugly and unwanted like Triss had, then she was living proof that things really could turn around. Because as beautiful as Triss was now, as talented and as hard working as she had become, inside she was still very much a scared, ugly little girl who would always be afraid that she wasn't enough.

"I did not always look like this," Philippa finally told her after a long pause, no doubt weighing the pros and cons of revealing something so personal to a woman she barely knew. In the end, she must have realized that it could help Triss if she were honest, and so she told her, her story. "But my curse was also a blessing in disguise, although I did not know it for a very long time."

Triss furrowed her brow, listening intently. She could feel something inside of her that she could not name, but she knew that it did not belong to her. Whatever this feeling was, it belonged to Philippa.

"When I was in my mother's womb, I had a sister. She did not develop as I did however, and when I was born, half of her was still attached to me," Philippa continued, causing Triss' eyes to widen. That sounded… horrific. "I was an abomination, to put it mildly; I will spare you the visual details. My mother tried to drown me shortly after I was born, convinced that I was a demon sent to punish her from a sorceress she had crossed many years before. Perhaps I was. Either way, it did not matter, as some stranger on the road came across her and saved me. I was brought up in an orphanage until I was taken to Aretuza many years later, where during my transformation I absorbed the rest of my sister's form, and became vastly more powerful. As it turned out, she was a dead weight for my magic. She might have been the only one of the two of us who would have had real power should we had been born separately, and for a long time I wondered if I knew that in the womb and tried to stifle her creation in order to have it for myself."

"You felt guilty," Triss answered for her, trying to name the feeling that was not her own that swirled in the pit of her stomach, but Philippa hissed softly through her teeth.

"Not quite. I felt I was owed it - that I was owed the power she gave me by not fully developing in her own right, although only because her parasitic form destroyed the normal life that I could have had if not for her." Triss could feel it now, the resentment that burned deep within her Mistress even after all these years. It was stronger now, easily recognizable. "I hated my sister, or what was left of her. I was glad to be rid of that blight upon my life. At times that train of thought made me feel guilty – I'd been told that's not how one should think of family. It has been a very long time since I cared though. I no longer try to hold myself to ridiculous moral standards as they are nothing but a waste of time."

"But to answer your question, pet, yes, I was once like you," Philippa finished, looking down at her protégé who stared up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "My past affected me greatly during my training here, and it took me a very long time to move past it. You are not alone in feeling this way, but it is only temporary. You have a very long life ahead of you, Triss, and this is but a blip. Soon, none of this will matter. You will see."

Triss nodded, accepting the other woman's words as truth. She had to be right, didn't she? If she went through something similar and came out on the other side of it stronger, more powerful, then why couldn't Triss?

What was stopping her?

[x]

"I did it!" Triss happily exclaimed as she watched the witcher's Igni sign become vastly more powerful to the point that… well, that it actually lit a tree on fire as it extended farther than the man had assumed it would. However, Yennefer was on it, immediately extinguishing the fire. As Triss jumped up and down in excitement, feeling an intense rush of power and accomplishment that seemed to make her hairs stand on end, the other woman's lips creased into a frown.

"A little too well, I'd say."

Triss scrunched up her nose, out of breath as her joy was practically ripped out from beneath her. "Why do you have to say it like that? I did it, Yenna. I proved my thesis. Why are you not more excited for me?" It hurt, honestly. Suddenly Triss' chest felt very heavy and she looked at the other woman in disbelief of her emotional betrayal. Yennefer, however, did not look apologetic.

She looked suspicious.

"You can make more of these?" Geralt interrupted as he turned the glyph over in his palm, his interest evident. At least someone appreciated her hard work.

"Yes. However, just because I've made it work with Igni does not mean that they will compliment your other signs. I still have more tests to run, but this is a step in the right direction— why are you looking at me like that?" Triss demanded, hating how Yennefer was staring at her. The other woman had crossed the space between them and their suddenly proximity was making Triss uncomfortable because it felt like the sorceress was dissecting her.

"What have you taken?"

Triss blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're using magic-enhancing substances— No, do not lie to me! You're out of breath, your pupils are dilated, and you should not have been able to make the glyph that strong at your age and with your experience," Yennefer accused, looking torn between being terribly disappointed in her and so very, very angry. "Do you not know what you are risking? That stuff can become as addictive as fisstech, and even more dangerous because it is imbued with magic!"

"Yen— Yenna, I'm not!" Triss insisted, hardly able to believe that Yennefer had just accused her of that. "I've never— that kind of stuff is for commoners with the disposition but no formal training. What— how could you even think such a thing?" Honestly, Triss was torn between being very upset and very offended. She took a step back from the other woman, her brow creasing and her throat tightening.

Finally, finally Triss felt confident in what she was doing, and this was the reaction she got? Not that she never felt pride or accomplishment in any of her other educational pursuits, but Triss never allowed herself to really celebrate most of them, as she always knew there was so much more she had to achieve in order to become the kind of sorceress she wished to be. And although Triss knew she was still nowhere near the level she wanted to be at, she was trying to be more forgiving of herself. Just because these kinds of feelings of inadequacy were something that most sorceresses experienced did not mean that she had to wallow in them. Especially since it had become clear to her that they were in no way going to be a permanent fixture in her life.

Besides, Triss felt good. She felt… she felt damn powerful, if she were being honest. After she had rested and the side effects of the dimeritium had worn off, she finally began to feel the combined magics of her and Philippa. It rushed through her veins like a rampaging river, and the first time she used it it nearly took her breath away. Perhaps Yennefer was right in a way – it did feel like a drug, but one that she had control over. Either way, Yennefer's accusation made Triss feel like she had cheated to get these results, when she was the one who encouraged her to gain a magical advantage by apprenticing for Philippa.

Honestly, it upset Triss quite a bit. She suddenly felt persecuted for merely taking Yennefer's suggestion. And now, when she finally felt powerful, more confident in herself, actually happy for one, brief moment, Yennefer felt the need to cut her down a notch by accusing her of illegally manufacturing the results of her success?

– You're distressed. What's happened? –

Triss chest seized in surprise and she instinctively looked around for the voice despite knowing full-well that it came from inside of her own mind. While telepathy was not something new for mages, all who had formal education had warded their minds against it when they were very young. It was one of the first things they learned to do, as someone knowing your thoughts could easily end up being the best weapon they have against you. Triss would have had to consciously open up her mind to allow Philippa through like that; or, at least she thought.

Apparently the rules had changed.

Philippa could not just read her mind, it seemed, but feel her emotions. She could tell something was wrong, even at such a great distance. Suddenly, Triss felt very suffocated. Before, when they were near one another and could feel bits and pieces, that was fine; it was to be expected, even. But this? This made Triss feel very violated and she didn't like it. And yes, Philippa had warned her that leashing could very well end up feeling invasive at times, but she hadn't expected to feel like this so suddenly, and so unexpectedly.

– Nothing. Everything is… everything's fine. –

– You're lying. –

– Stop. Stop reading my mind, Mistress, please. –

Silence, and Triss could finally breathe. She had gone terribly pale though, the whites of her eyes showing as she suddenly tried to re-ward herself against such an invasion. But that was the thing – her wards weren't down at all. What she and Philippa had done transcended barriers like that, and now Triss felt like she was going to vomit.

"Triss!"

"She… she was in my head."

Yennefer stared at her with a perplexed expression, but it was Geralt who spoke. "I thought telepathy was something 'automatic' with you mages." Yennefer pursed her lips, looking a little guilty. Apparently, she had read his mind more than once and used that as an excuse for her actions. And maybe it was automatic with her – to do something like that with people who weren't properly trained to keep their thoughts private – but that was not the case with sorceresses, and Yennefer knew it.

"Sorceresses are taught at a young age to ward their minds against telepathy. If two mages wish to communicate that way they can, but there needs to be a mutual agreement. By the look on Triss' face, I don't believe this was mutual," Yennefer answered him before taking the girl's hand, leading her over to a stone wall to sit down upon. Triss felt like she would have fallen down if she didn't rest her weight somewhere, and she followed without protest. "What has she done to you? You don't look right, Triss. Tell me what's happened."

"No, she— she didn't do anything to me that I did not consent to," Triss tried to explain, because she didn't want Yennefer to think that Philippa was taking advantage of her in some way. "I was just… surprised, was all. I know— I mean, I knew there would be side-effects, but I didn't…"

"That what would have side-effects?" Yennefer asked dangerously, her eyes narrowing.

Triss pursed her lips, unwilling to share her experiences with her mentor just then. She was still very upset with Yennefer for actually believing that she had used magic-enhancing substances to gain results and, more than that, Triss knew she probably would not approve of Philippa's methods anyhow. "It doesn't matter; I'm fine now," she dismissed. "It just startled me for a second, that's all. But my mis— Philippa, she needs me." If she had slipped up and used the word 'Mistress' in front of Yennefer, Triss was fairly certain she would have no other choice but to dig herself a hole and die in it. "That's all. She was just asking me to find her. I should go."

"Triss."

Yennefer had snatched the younger woman's wrist in her hand, stilling her movements. But instead of obliging her, Triss untangled herself from her mentor's grasp and stepped away from her. "You know, I was really excited about this," she finally told her, emotion beginning to tighten her esophagus. "I haven't allowed myself to celebrate my accomplishments for as long as I could remember, and instead of being happy for me, you accuse me of practically cheating."

"You can tell me that you aren't all you wish, but something is different, and you and I both know it," Yennefer responded unapologetically. Geralt, who had had been watching this altercation from a distance, finally decided that this was none of his business and disappeared from the gardens. Neither women noticed. "And the less you say, the more suspicious I become. So if you'd like me to believe that you aren't altering your magic with those kinds of substances, then perhaps you should explain to me why your magic has grown exponentially in a matter of days."

"I don't owe you an explanation, Yennefer," Triss responded strongly, even though after she said it, she began to feel very nauseas. She tried to keep it together though and stood tall, looking down at the woman who still sat, as irritatingly poised as ever, atop the stone wall. "I know you don't fully trust Philippa's methods, but you were the one who told me to apply for apprenticeship. And I'm starting to feel a little better about myself now. I'm allowing myself to try to be happy and somewhat more confident, and it's working. Why are you trying to take that away from me?"

"I'm not," Yennefer insisted. She exhaled, looking frustrated. "I just… cannot shake this bad feeling, and Philippa is known to cross boundaries. I do hope with everything that I have that this apprenticeship is beneficial to you, but when your magic changes so drastically in such a short amount of time, I believe I have cause for concern."

"I'm learning," Triss stressed, her expression incredulous. "Wasn't that what I was supposed to do?"

"Perhaps, but there is still something you aren't telling me, and your unwillingness to be honest with me doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

Triss pursed her lips as she looked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "You know, you could have just apologized. You could've just had confidence in me and believed that I know how to make sound decisions for myself. Instead, you do this. How am I supposed to believe in myself when even someone who claims they're a 'dear friend' of mine doesn't have faith in me?"

"Triss…" Yennefer's tone was almost condescending, as though she thought she was overreacting to this. That only made Triss angrier.

"And another thing!" she suddenly blurted out, unable to stop herself now that the floodgates had opened. "I don't appreciate you pretending that we're closer than we are just because you want to one-up somebody else. I'm sorry that your relationship with Philippa turned to shit, but I don't want to end up in the middle of some kind of pissing contest just because you're bitter that she won't sleep with you anymore!"

Okay, that might have been too far. It was also a wild guess that probably wasn't anywhere near true – well, at least the reason why it ended, because Triss wasn't stupid. They had definitely fucked at least once – but Triss was just mad, and when she was mad apparently that made her put her foot in her mouth.

Yennefer just stared at her, and suddenly Triss went from feeling as tall as a tree to as minuscule as a sprout. "I suggest," Yennefer began slowly, making Triss feel smaller and smaller with each word, "that you refrain from commenting on something that you know nothing about. I will let it pass by this time, however, only because I seemed to have upset you quite a bit and that was not my intention. But perhaps you were right before: you should return to your… mentor."

Triss' cheeks flared a deep red at the way Yennefer said that, like she somehow just knew that that wasn't what Triss called Philippa. Perhaps her slip was more noticeable than she originally thought. Either way, Triss had no desire to stick around and find out. She practically fled from the gardens, somehow even more upset than when they first began this argument. Wasn't sticking up for herself supposed to make her feel better?

So then why did she suddenly feel so much worse?

TBC…