It felt like tiny glass shards vibrating inside his skull, ringing against the bones of it as Geralt came to. That djinn must've been pretty scorned on his way out – Geralt considered it lucky to still find himself on the withered deck of the ship stuck on the tip of the mountain and not somewhere on the fjords below. Far below. That explosion of magic and fury the djinn disappeared with nearly blew the Witcher overboard.
Wincing, he slowly got up to his knees, then to his feet, looking around. The sky was clear and orange as the sun was setting.
"Yen?" he called in a hoarse voice, peering up at what was left of the captain's bridge. "You all right?"
The djinn exploded in a brilliant display of light, brightness Yennefer attempted to inhale at the last second, as if to say goodbye to what had anchored them together and she was convinced would disappear, only when the remnants of the creature abated and the sky began to clear – nothing had changed – nothing at all.
She sucked in a breath to steady her frayed nerves, trying to assess herself internally, waiting on anything, any kind of suggestion that there might have been a delay, but when Geralt appeared, weary and a bit scathed, her heart gave an automated thump of indiscernible peace.
"I'm fine. Everything's fine."
She didn't look fine to him: her posture was a bit hunched over as if she was about to slide to the floor, weary and spent. Her face wore an expression he wasn't used to reading when it came to famous Yennefer of Vengerberg: uncertainty.
"You need to sit down," he said, holding out a hand to help her down the bridge's stairs. "And have some water. Before you fall down."
"I'm fine," she repeated, taking a hold of his offered hand, letting him guide her down the small series of steps and then slowly drew him toward the side of the boat without letting him go, toward the part where they had destroyed the railing.
She let him go, grabbed the railing and then sat down, letting her feet dangle for half a second before claiming part of the ledge. She only spoke again once he'd joined her.
"Thank you for helping me with the Djinn."
His lips twitched forming a fleeting sad smirk. "Had you told me what you wanted to achieve before we plunged in, I would've refused. It was too much risk for a flawed cause."
Unless she wanted more to undo the bond rather than check and see what would remain without it, came an afterthought and left a bitter residue as it slunk back into the dark of his mind.
She cast a glance at him, returning his smile, only might had none of the sadness or nothing she had expected. It felt as if for the first time ever she had the answer she needed.
That she always knew was there and had convinced herself couldn't be possible.
"I needed to know if our connection was real, I had to know that there was no magic involved in the way that we feel—I feel," she said, finding that there was a hint of uncharacteristic joy and possible promise in her tone, a lint of curiosity as well that she hoped he'd read and answer himself.
Her eyes sparkled searching him. he regarded her with interest.
"What did you learn?"
She thought it over, letting the lack of modification drift for a second and then smiled slightly, meeting his gaze with contented longing. "That nothing's changed. I feel the same."
The smallest of smiles touched the corners of his lips as he studied her, unwittingly searching for an undertone, an underlying truth that might still sting after gifting hope for better.
"Which is what? The need to escape me in a flare of a fiery portal leading to another side of the world?"
Her smile widened slightly, her eyes turning to the view, as if to compare it in part to what she was feeling and the peace she felt inside, to the realization that she could love.
"No. That I love you." The truth was that simple and uncomplicated, a belief that had been apparent but hard to decipher and believe since who they were had become intertwined.
An icy comber stroked through his spine, his eyes widened momentarily. "You... You've never said that to me before. You rather stated it was impossible for you due to your circumstances."
It hadn't felt like the first time she'd said it or like it was the last. Yennefer felt as though she'd been saying it for many years, in many different ways, in ways she wasn't even sure of, but suddenly knew as well as she did her own body.
A lot had changed today and major realization met.
"I believed that it was. I never thought that I was capable of love, let alone being loved in return. It's a lesson that's taken me almost a century to learn or even read for what it is."
The same uncertainty shimmered in the way she looked at him, but then Geralt realized with another subtle shiver of shock that it was vulnerability that was usually a foreign concept for her appearance, altogether. It was one of the rarest, impossible moments that happened just once in a lifetime, and he stared away, savoring, marveling and wondering.
She had inspired many looks in Geralt overs the years, many that she'd absorbed and recorded to memory for the nights when he wasn't with her, and this one was no different.
She craved to reach out, to touch a hand to his face, to caress his cheek, but stopped herself, unwilling to give into that greed when she'd already taken so much and needed something else from him.
A confirmation.
"Do you feel any differently?"
Her unearthly violet eyes fixed on him, piercing and rendering his mind blank. The Witcher blinked, trying to focus, searching himself intensely.
"I... I don't know. I don't know... how I feel."
He stared at her, confused and pained, swallowed with effort.
"I feel nothing."
How was it he could feel nothing when she felt so much? When it was as if a door had opened that would never be closed again and all she'd ever needed to do was walk through.
She had been powerful for a very long time, in control of everything, but her feelings or what she felt in and around or for Geralt seemed to be the only thing beyond that carefully crafted web.
Until today, that is.
Yennefer blinked, momentarily confused and struck. "Nothing for me or nothing different?"
She had always been certain of the latter, and yet, something in his tone and look made her question it and his wording for the first time.
Geralt searched himself again and again, but it was like feeling his way through the dark with no walls or anything to grab. Like walking through a thick fog expecting to see anything come out of it any moment and seeing nothing new with each step.
He shook his head as if to rid himself of that horrible, dead numbness, but it didn't help. He forced himself to meet Yennefer's intense stare and it scared him with another color he had never seen there before.
Despair.
"I feel nothing at all. Just... nothing. Stillness. Like I'm empty. I feel nothing... for you."
Now there was an emotion she was familiar with, one she had experienced most her life and had never expected to see on Geralt. He'd made her believe it would never come to that, had convinced her for years that their connection was a deep unexplained root that could never be broken, and now that she believed it, could freely feel it for herself, he was gifting her with the opposite.
Maybe the last wish had never been tethered to them, but to him alone.
A simple unspoken duty.
Tears stung behind her eyes, a reaction she caught before they could spill and she could fully give into the unfamiliar roll of heartbreak, one she'd guarded and controlled like she did her magic since her change.
"We should go," she said, not recognizing her tone or the disappointed in it – the hurt.
The rumors about his reunion with Triss must have rung true, then.
"I've nothing else I need here."
She composed herself, raising the mask she had been carrying for years, finding it harder to do this time and made to stand, to grip the railing and to safely hoist herself back onto the boat.
There it was.
Geralt finally saw something familiar - that mask she had been wearing like an armor that never broke in front of anyone he saw her with and rarely gave any hair thin cracks in his presence - the ones she immediately repaired. It came habitually. And now it came to her aid with the same ease of custom.
He stood up and helped her off the edge, wondering how it was possible to read her better than he could himself.
What happened to me?
What did that djinn do to me?
"Yen, I'm..." There is nothing I can possibly say to fix it, he realized with dismay. "I'm sorry."
And then, he thought of how he had to make her confess why she wanted that djinn so badly.
('I want to know if it's all just magic. Didn't you wonder about it yourself?')
He never really had.
"It's not that all we had together means nothing now."
"Don't be. Our relationship has never been an easy one, Geralt. And— and you were honest, that's one of many things I love about you."
Saying it this time didn't give her the same kind of contentedness, in fact, the more she thought about it, the more alone she felt, the more disconnected from what she thought they had.
"It's just that you feel nothing," she repeated.
Another time she might have shrugged it off, been guarded by that internalized security blank created by the djinn, this time, there was nothing to hold onto, not even the intensity of his stare – even if he looked partially contrite. She didn't like that look directed at her or what it invoked in her.
She missed what she thought she knew and understood in his gaze.
"Is what I hear of you and Triss true?"
Geralt frowned in fleeting confusion. "Depends on what you hear. I helped her and a group of mages safely escape Novigrad, and she accompanied them to Kovir. I saw them off and left the city afterwards."
"And she left with them?"
That wasn't the way Yennefer had heard it but he'd never been one to lie or steer away from the truth.
"The way I hear it or my birds told me, is that you asked her to stay."
Unless someone somewhere had misinterpreted.
"I did," he confirmed without skipping a beat. "I didn't think it was necessary for her to leave with them when she could still manage a better life in Novigrad that she preferred. But she wanted to go. So she did."
The 'I did' was enough to stir a whole new rush of emotional turmoil that Yennefer was not used to dealing with or remotely knew how to control. Was it reflected on her face? She hoped not.
"What did you feel about that?"
He jerked his shoulders in a half-shrug. "That she knew best what was best for her. What is it all about? Are you trying to compare? There is nothing to even remotely compare there, Yen. If I needed her to stay, I'd put more effort into convincing her of that. Like I've been doing with you."
The need for tears had abandoned her, but she couldn't let go of the feeling that she was losing more than she could have ever imagined she had.
Even worse, she didn't know how to fix it.
"Then why? Why now tell me you feel nothing after all these years of insinuating otherwise?"
Geralt spread his arms briefly, looking helpless. "Because I've never lied to you."
Fair enough answer. He had never lied to her and she'd rather he didn't start now, not even if it felt as though he'd ripped her heart from her chest. The urge to cry returned like a hollow wave and she wasn't sure how long she was going to be able to keep her self-possession.
"We should go. I— I have things I need to get in order before we move on to our next undertaking."
She didn't leave room for pause this time, she couldn't, and instead she extended a hand and muttered a word, opening a portal for them directly to the Skellige port and back to Ciri.
"Fuckin' hell, girl! You've relieved me of my entire coin purse!" Eabrack whined, upending the said purse to show his lack of funds.
"Another round?" Ciri suggested, scooping all the gold to her side of the table with an impish grin, eyeing the frustrated farmer opposite her as he began to collect his deck of cards.
He shook his head. "No bleedin' way. My Irna will kill me already when I get home."
She shrugged and rearranged her own deck, looking around the crowded inn to see if there were any other worthy challengers nearby. Most of them were drunk. That made them highly worthy in her opinion.
Her movements came to a halt when a shiver erupted down her spine, the air surrounding them becoming electrically charged for a few brief seconds. Magic.
She turned her head, gazing inquisitively at the door leading to Yen's room. Were they back from this mystery mission she'd not been allowed to partake in? They'd been gone most of the day.
"I go first," new male voice sounded opposite her and Ciri shifted her attention to the burly man who had just taken Eabrack's seat, clumsily fumbling with his frayed and aged cards, dropping most of them at least twice before he managed to collect them again.
Another grin bloomed on her face. "It's a deal."
Geralt didn't appear to be open to any more discussion or complaints about the portal, so as soon as he stepped into it, she followed, carrying them back to Skellige with all her usual ease.
When he was clear of it and we were on the docks, Yennefer found her ability to keep pretending fade away, as if now that they were amongst people, it was even harder to keep the walls in check.
"I'm going to find Ciri, let her know we're back."
She was desperate to see her, to be close to her. Who knew how long that would be for and when he'd decide to take her to their next mission. Yennefer wouldn't be joining them, after all.
Geralt was never going to get used to portals. It still made him a bit woozy. He suspected, however, that partially it was due to the heavy residue they both carried from the previous talk. He still didn't know how to address it and how it could be healed – at least for her, given he still couldn't find any particular heartaches in himself. He felt as numb as the cold winds of Skellige treated any skin left open to them.
He nodded, contemplating his further actions. Outlines of a plan began to form. "I'll take a walk."
Yennefer nodded despite the fact that she hardly heard him, that his words made as much sense as the breeze that ruffled her hair or the mindless chatter from the villagers outside of the Inn.
She put distance between them and then stopped when she could no longer feel him behind her, raising a hand to her cheek, finding that it had come away wet. She frowned and double-checked with the other.
The same thing had happened there.
Was she crying?
She scrubbed her face, felt the tears dry up and fade and then forced herself to slip inside, assuming that Ciri'd be hanging around somewhere having a drink and entertaining herself.
It wasn't long before Yennefer found her playing a lively round of Gwent.
And from the looks of things, she was winning.
Ciri scooped her winnings towards her and poured them into her pouch, entertained by the dismayed looks on her opponent's face as he watched her make away with his hard-earned coin.
Everybody looked up when the door to the inn opened, letting in a breeze of cold air that made the flames in the fireplace flicker dangerously. The sorceress appeared from out of the dark.
Ciri smiled. "If you'll excuse me, lads…"
They didn't seem to mind. Most of them didn't want another go.
On slightly drunken legs, Ciri hurried towards the sorceress, childlike excitement evident on her face as she held up her purse. "This place is gonna make me rich!"
Ciri stopped in front of her, brushed some melting snow off her shoulder and peered behind her.
"Where's Geralt?"
Geralt watched her go, cringing inwardly as she hunched a bit while walking. Like she was in pain. It was all such an impossible wonder for him that he felt he couldn't even begin to comprehend everything that happened in those moments they shared after the djinn disappeared with a bang.
This Yennefer that had emerged from it was so different from what he knew, and yet, there was a lot of what he glimpsed that seemed to be what he had always been looking for – desperately – in the depth of her cold violet stare, in every gesture and rare smile. Now those treasures finally twinkled and lured, and they were out of his reach forever.
And he felt… still. Quiet. Dormant.
He no longer knew the right word for what dwelled inside him.
Geralt strolled along the docks, taking his time and enjoying the sobering sting of the wind and the thickening twilight around him. Some people around the village knew him, and he wasn't in the mood to talk and celebrate. He felt the need to get away from here.
He found Mousesack in the small inner yard of the castle. He was taking a moment to pray, swaying the tiniest bit due to the amount of mead consumed. Geralt waited politely until he turned and grinned at the Witcher.
"Geralt! How are you enjoying the feast?"
"Magnificent as always, your feasts," Geralt nodded, smiling.
"Good, good. Cirilla looks so happy. She's grown into a beautiful young woman, became a great warrior akin to yourself. You must be ten times as proud as I feel."
"Indeed, I am," he nodded again.
"She is a pride and joy for all of us who know her." The Druid finished the mead there still was in the horn he'd been holding and turned a wary eye to Geralt. "You sought me out for a purpose, Witcher? What is it?"
"To ask for a favor," he confirmed. "I need to go back to Novigrad and tend to unfinished business or two. I don't suppose any ships are sailing there any time soon, and I'd love to get there sooner."
The Druid frowned. "I see. And that wild raven-haired one doesn't go with you or has already left without notice, I assume?"
"Yennefer will stay longer with Ciri, I imagine. I have to deal with the contracts I left undone. More people might get hurt."
"I understand." He hummed, stroking his beard as he studied the Witcher. "I can send you there. Do we need to go to the stables for your horse?"
"Roach stayed with Dandelion in the city. I thought she had no business being here. Hope he's taken care of her."
"I wouldn't hold my breath for that troubadour to do anything one would expect. But that's none of my business. If you're ready, Witcher, you can go. But do not expect me to explain the matter of your absence to Crach or our new Queen."
"I wouldn't burden you with such task. I'm grateful for your help."
"It's nothing, Witcher. Take care."
Despite the way she felt, a smile automatically graced Yennefer's lips, mimicking Ciri's happiness, grateful for it and her contagious mood. This image was what the mage needed to counteract the other and the nightmare playing in constant loop in her head.
She swept a hand over her 'daughter's' head, brushing a stray white strand behind her ear.
"He went for a walk. Been enjoying what remains of the feast?"
Went for a walk? Since when did Geralt go for walks? Unless he was hoping to run his sword through something waiting on the other end of the Path, that was.
"I have. The mead tank never empties. Nor does the supply of men eager to prove their worth at Gwent." Ciri paused, looking her over. "What have you two been doing?"
She wouldn't have asked if she believed they'd simply snuck away for some private time together. But Ciri knew that wasn't it. Knew they hadn't… reconnected. After all, the stuffed unicorn was still in Yennefer's chambers.
"Geralt and I had some unfinished business to attend to and loose ends to tie up."
Yennefer would rather not go into too much detail out in the open when her nerves were so unpredictable and her emotions were running all over the place. She hardly knew what to do with herself.
"You enjoy your night further, Ciri. Play another round of Gwent for me, be merry, but also be shrewd and innocuous. I think I'll retire to my chambers, take a nice long bath—"
Possibly accompanied by an unusual crying session.
"And have an early nights rest. We'll probably want to be gone from here come early morning."
Unless I leave now.
"Why?" Ciri asked, tucking her winnings away, watching Yennefer cautiously. "Crach and Queen Cerys have invited us to stay indefinitely." She paused, hands on her hips. "Have you business elsewhere? Does Geralt?" Ciri would have imagined they'd told her if that was the case, but maybe not. Maybe they still saw her as Ciri the Child rather than Ciri the Woman.
Yennefer doubted that invitation was one that extended to her willingly but was more so out of courtesy for what Geralt had done for them and what Yennefer could do here and there for his people.
She raised a hand to Ciri's face, touching her cheek tenderly, a small smile on her lips at her stubborn display.
"I believe he has ongoing business in Novigrad. I've a lot of my own that need tending as well."
All of which she gladly would have and did drop for the both of them for a short time.
"I suspect you might be feeling a little listless yourself by now?"
Listless? Not really. Not yet. Ciri liked Skellige. She liked its people and the life they led. And most of all, she liked how far away they were. So far from her father's reach.
But she would choose Geralt and Yennefer over any fear or discomfort and therefore did not let her slight disappointment show. "Of course. I always manage to keep myself occupied in Novigrad. Even with the witch hunters roaming the streets," she said with a smile. "I shall be ready come morning."
She assumed they were all going together and in the past – had this extra endeavor gone as Yennefer had wished – they would have. Unfortunately, she needed time to manage herself.
"Perfect. In the meantime, don't let our shortened festivities halt your winning streak."
Yennefer removed her hand from her face.
"Go have fun."
"I will," Ciri gave her another smile. Yennefer seemed off somehow but Ciri couldn't put her finger on what it was, what had changed. Maybe it was simply that Ciri didn't really know them anymore. Their looks hadn't changed one bit, but perhaps something else had. "Have a nice bath."
Reluctantly leaving the sorceress behind, she stepped out of the inn to inhale some of the cool night air. People were still out celebrating the day's coronation and yet it was quieter here than it ever would be in Novigrad.
Another shiver rippled down her spine, pulling her attention up towards the castle. Someone had opened a portal. Mousesack?
Curious, she invoked her own special magic and vanished in a flash of green light, instantly appearing a few feet from where she had felt the portal open. The sight that met her was not what she had expected. "Geralt?"
Geralt lifted his foot to step in when a voice calling his name made him freeze. Ermion and he turned to the one whose voice the Witcher would recognize anywhere.
He sighed, "Ciri."
Yennefer returned her smile and then glided away for her chamber, chin held high as she walked, used to the stares of contempt, wonder and lust from the consortium of inn's people.
She could read them easily.
Just like she'd read him.
Yennefer knew she shouldn't, that had he known he wouldn't have been pleased as there was certain things he liked to keep to himself, but she couldn't help it, couldn't bring herself to accept that nothing was just nothing. How was she supposed to accept that word for what it was at face value after everything that she knew? After everything they had been through to get to this point and what he himself had been willing to risk?
She walked without seeing, her bedroom door closing behind her minutes later, fingers fumbling with the buttons and laces on her corseted blouse.
Once she stripped completely, she slipped beneath the water that had already been present in the wooden tub. A perk from being at an inn. Whether you used it or not that night, come sundown, someone had taken it upon themselves to make sure there was something in case you wanted to be clean. That wasn't the reason for this particular soak, though.
She sunk into the water, enjoying its warmth, letting the tears that had finally escaped run freely.
She had no idea when she'd started crying, she only hoped that it had happened once she'd actually made it behind closed doors and to the safety of her own space where she wouldn't be disturbed and could purge this cloying plague of love from her system.
Ciri looked from Geralt to Mousesack and back again, a slight frown on her brow. "What are you doing?"
Geralt threw a helpless look at Ermion, but the druid folded his arms with a subtle smile and didn't even move to leave them to talk. The portal closed.
Geralt sighed again and spread his arms in a brief gesture of what-did-it-look-like. "I was leaving. I have an urgent matter back in Novigrad. Yennefer was going to stay here with you."
"She said we were going tomorrow." Or had Ciri misunderstood? She was confused now and tried to remember Yennefer's words exactly. "She said you were just out for a walk."
Meaning that either she'd lied, or she hadn't known Geralt was leaving.
Frowning still, Ciri moved closer to him, practically ignoring Mousesack's presence at this point. "What's going on?"
Of course Yen didn't explain anything. Geralt knew she wouldn't hurry to, but he underestimated Ciri's nose for subtle art of reading them both.
"I told you: I wanted to go back to Novigrad to finish a few things, and Yennefer intended to spend more time with you. If she decided against that since our parting in the docks - I didn't know."
"Right." Geralt never lied to her. So why did she feel like she was missing something major right now?
And why were they both so eager to get back to the mainland when they'd only just arrived in Skellige? When they'd only just found one other…
They had been searching for each other for quite some time. Did Ciri not live up to the expectations they'd had of her? Was she a disappointment?
These were rare emotions. She was always so sure of herself, especially in battle. And only now did she realize she'd had some expectations of our reunion as well. And it wasn't this; not everyone going their separate ways as soon as possible.
Ciri felt Mousesack's eyes on her, sensed the pity. She didn't like it. It made her cheeks burn.
She backed away from where the portal had been opened just moments ago, as if to give the Druid permission to activate it, and set her gaze on Geralt again, putting on a smile for his sake alone. "See you."
The Witcher saw her doubt - well justified and fair - and couldn't help a mix of hurt and pride. She was so good at sensing him, too good, and that stung her own heart.
He stepped toward her, once again feeling helpless. "Ciri, forgive me. I wish I could stay, but I feel it wouldn't do any good right now. I can't explain before Yennefer does - it would be wrong on my part."
Her eyes narrowed shrewdly, not from anger but suspicion. She stepped in close as well, lowering her voice, her words for his ears only. "Are you in danger? Is she?"
"No, no, of course not. Neither of us would keep such thing from you."
"Alright." Then she was still as clueless as before. And scared. Not that she would ever admit to it.
Ciri spread her arms briefly and stepped away again, trying to convey that she forgave him even if she had no idea what he needed to be forgiven for.
Geralt stepped after her and pulled her into an urgent hug.
"It's not you, Ciri. If you wish to stay longer, I'll come back in a couple of days. I love you." It was nice to feel. Her closeness cast away the chilly fog of nothingness and he felt the familiar warmth of affection. "And I miss you. I always miss you."
He pulled away and held her face in his hands for a moment, etching her features into his memory. Then he kissed her forehead and let go.
"I have to go now for a bit. It's needed."
Her smile was genuine now and impossible to suppress. All her earlier fear melted away at his reassuring words and firm embrace, and she wrapped her arms around his waist in return. "I love you."
Those words came easy with him, and with Yennefer. Others, not so much.
Sufficiently soothed, she didn't cling to him like she would have as a child. She allowed him to let her go. Because she trusted him. If he said he'd come back, he would. "Don't die," she demanded softly, absentmindedly toying with the witcher amulet at her hip as they waited for Mousesack to open the portal.
Geralt merely smiled, knowing better than to promise things like that with doing work like his. Her smile and acceptance still melted his heart. A huge part of him yearned to stay, but Yennefer's eyes full of despair and heartbreak lingered behind Ciri's figure like a wraith and cast him away.
Mousesack decided they were done, and opened the portal. It swirled the air next to Geralt, blowing his hair and glistening with magical light. He raised a hand in a mute goodbye and stepped in.
Ciri watched the portal swallow him and disappear and secretly wondered what kind of business he had that was so urgent. There were always contracts to be closed, of course, but still… she wished he would have asked her to come help.
She spent a few minutes in Mousesack's company, letting him fill her in on the various trials the contenders for the Skellige throne had performed in order to win the crown. No such thing would be needed for her to claim the title of Empress should her father decide his reign was over, and from what she had heard that was exactly what had happened. The reason he was looking for her in the first place. She couldn't imagine anything she wanted less.
Ciri took her leave of the castle – on foot this time – and pulled her hood on to brace against the icy winter wind that howled between the mountains. The few guards she met on the way nodded politely as she passed but other than them, most of the town seemed to have holed up inside, safe and sound from the cold. The further she walked, the more Yennefer's bathtub called out to her.
Yennefer closed her eyes, recalling his face, that look in his eyes, the apology that had crossed his features although she wasn't she sure he even knew what he was feeling guilty for. Their relationship had always been a complicated one and for a time—a minute there—after the djinn had been destroyed and the light had subsided, she'd been sure that she understood it, that they'd be okay and that everything she'd initially feared about their relationship had been solely in her head.
But that hadn't been the case.
She had pushed him too far, so far, in fact, that for the first time since they had first laid eyes on one another and that night beneath the rubble when they first became intimate, he felt nothing.
Absolutely nothing but wretched culpability.
She sank beneath the water, for the first time, unconcerned with the state her curls would be in after and the fact that she was removing every bit of make-up that she meticulously kept intact.
The party was still going strong when Ciri entered the inn a little while later. Now the singing had begun. Drunken singing at that. Not exactly nice to the ears, but it had a certain charm nonetheless.
The few flakes of snow that still clung to her clothing melted before long and she pushed her hood back, grabbing a giant roasted turkey leg off one of the platters on the bar counter, and headed for Yen's room.
She opened the door quietly in case Yennefer had managed to fall asleep already and snuck inside. The light was dim with only a few candles lit, and there was no sight of her.
Ciri took a healthy bite of her turkey and chewed as she stealthily made her way towards the bed we'd shared the night before (Geralt had been on the floor) and whispered, "Yen?"
When the need to breathe became more urgent, Yennefer resurfaced, taking a large gulp of air, brushing the hair from her face, eyes stinging from the water and emotions she had tried to release.
However, and like with the djinn, nothing had changed, she still felt absolutely every bit of that singularized definition he'd used on her.
She expelled a frustrated sigh and let her head rest against the back of the tub, unaware that she was no longer alone until she thought she heard someone shuffle behind her.
Yennefer looked around, eyes widening when she observed Ciri, turkey leg in hand.
"I thought you'd be at the feast a little longer," the mage mused, voice slightly strained, almost alarmed at Ciri seeing her this disarrayed.
Ciri's heart skipped a beat when Yen's head suddenly broke the surface of the water, a chunk of turkey dangling from Ciri's mouth until the shock had settled. It was rare to see her so disheveled. Not that she looked bad. Yennefer could never look bad.
Ciri shoved the turkey bite into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Sorry. Thought you might have gone to bed." She hesitated a little before continuing. "So… Geralt left."
"And you were coming to share your turkey with me?"
How much mead had she consumed?
Still, the thought of Geralt being gone so soon after everything—after what had happened—even though Yennefer knew that was his plan, only added another dagger to the already open wound.
"You said goodbye?"
Ciri eyed the turkey leg, not sure she wanted to share. It wasn't that she was greedy, exactly… Well, yes, she was. She had been raised by a bunch of burly witchers. And one thing she'd learned quickly in Kaer Morhen was that if you didn't stake a claim of your food, you might not eat. It wasn't like at her grandmother's castle where servants were always ready with treats.
But this was Yennefer… Was she hungry? Was that why she looked so sad?
She extended the leg her way. "Yes. I caught him before he could enter Mousesack's portal."
Yennefer was aware Geralt wanted to leave, she wasn't aware, however, that he was that desperate to do so that he wanted to take a portal, one of the few forms of travel he despised with a fiery passion.
Another time Yennefer would have denied her offering, gestured that she enjoy, but for the first time in her life, with curls drenched, make-up running, she took the turkey leg from her and stole a bite.
"You didn't go with him?" That much was obvious, but it was still a question.
"Don't think he wanted me to." Ciri took a seat on the bed and began the arduous task of removing her boots. "Are you going to tell me what is happening? Because when we talked this morning we were all planning to stay here for a few days. And then suddenly this evening, there is urgent business to be handled. For the both of you. But obviously not the same."
She groaned with the effort of freeing her foot from the first boot, dropping it to the floor so she could start on the other.
Since Ciri hadn't made a move to reacquire her turkey leg, Yennefer twisted around and made a point of devouring the rest, scooping up a piece of meat that had dropped off the bone and floated.
She popped that into her mouth as well while she listened.
"What's to tell? Our personal strategies rarely ever go according to plan and everything changes from day to day. What makes you think that this is somehow different? More meaningful?"
Not that she'd said that she did, but the underlining was there and Yennefer had read it clear enough.
"It felt like he was running away," Ciri said honestly, eyeing the sorceress once she got rid of her second boot. "Geralt doesn't run away from danger. Which means he's either running from you or from me. Which is it?"
Yennefer laughed bitterly, not because her assumption was humorous or wrong, but because she'd managed to figure it and called her, Yennefer, out on the meagre bluff.
"You can be certain of one thing, Ciri, Geralt would never run from you. Ever."
She polished the bone and carelessly dropped it into the bath, rising from the chilling water, reaching for the freshly folded cloth nearby that she could cinch around her body and dry herself off with.
"It's me. I've always been very good at destroying things."
Ciri frowned, unused to seeing the sorceress so cavalier with her eating habits. "What did you destroy?"
"Something dear to me."
Something Yennefer hadn't even realized was that dear until she had actually lost it. It had been a hard concept to grasp in totality, for years she had struggled and feared, and yet, now that it was no longer even an option anymore, it felt as though she'd been split open and cut down the middle.
She ran her hands along her hips, using the cloth to dry herself, ignoring the vanity and her compulsive need to brush her hair, to fix her make-up and remedy the horror she must have looked like.
Yennefer eased a knee onto the mattress and then lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.
"The feast coming to an end or did you run out of drunkards to take money from?"
She clearly wasn't going to share what that meant. As was her right. Her secrets, her business. Didn't mean Ciri liked it.
"Their purses ran empty," Ciri said, unfastening her belt to get more comfortable on the bed. "And their wives became angry. But the feast is still going. And will long after sunrise if my childhood memories are accurate."
"Those memories haven't failed you in the slightest," Yennefer said, rolling onto her side to watch her as she undressed, admiring how much she looked like Geralt although they weren't blood related and at times how much of her personality could mimic Yennefer's own.
It was as if this little family of theirs had always been destined and yet – it wasn't.
All of that had been a lie.
"You remember the story about the djinn?"
Ciri dropped her belt to the floor and turned to watch her, brow slightly pinched in concentration. "Yours and Geralt's djinn?" The one who had bound their destinies together upon Geralt's command? "Yes, I believe so. What of it?"
Our djinn.
Yennefer might have smiled at the way she put it, the fact that it was seen that way, and she guessed it was – like a fable – that their friends told.
"I took him to break the spell. The last wish. We destroyed the djinn. And in doing so, I inevitably destroyed everything in the process."
Ciri sat with that for a while, processing the information. "Was Geralt angry?"
It was the only way she could imagine "everything being destroyed" as Yennefer put it. Though Geralt hadn't seemed angry at all when she saw him. He'd seemed… uncomfortable. Guilty? "Why did you break your bond? Do you no longer wand to share his destiny?"
"No, it's— he wasn't angry at all."
He just felt nothing. A big raging emotional nothing.
Yennefer expelled a soft sigh, averting her eyes to the ceiling again, finding that her usual confidence and the confidence with which she had gone into this battle with had abated slightly.
"I do—I did, I just… I wanted to make sure it was real and that what tied us together, what I felt—feel is unaffected. I know it doesn't make any sense, that I should have accepted it at face value but, I needed to do this for myself, for us, if we were going to move past our ever on and off."
Ciri could understand – in part – why Yennefer would want to challenge the wish. She'd never been shy about admitting she struggled with her emotions. Love, especially.
There had never been any doubt in Ciri's mind that Geralt loved her, though. "And what do you feel?" she asked cautiously, suddenly scared the sorceress would cry. She had never seen her cry. And Ciri wasn't sure how she'd react if Yennefer did. Or rather, how she could help.
The tears bubbled to the surface again, internally making Yennefer curse. She had more than enough time to get this particular part of the scenario out of her system so why was it still coming up? Why was the way Ciri was looking at her with sympathy hitting so hard?
"Nothing changed for me. Nothing. I—I still feel the same as I always did. Only, I feel like I can finally accept it, that I'm free to believe that it's genuine. It's Geralt that surprised me."
And then the tears came, spilling from her eyes at their own accord like savage fiends unwilling to cooperate with her usual control.
Ciri stared in mingled horror and panic when her eyes watered and the tears spilled down her cheeks in abundance, unsure what to do, how to soothe her. Ciri decided to replicate what Yennefer had done for her when she was still a child, on the few occasions she herself had cried.
Reaching for her, Ciri wrapped her arms around the mage and allowed her to rest her head against Ciri's chest, stroking her damp hair. "What happened? What did he say?"
Yennefer couldn't remember the last time she had let someone see her cry, let alone comfort her in her desperate grief and give them a glimpse at the failing mask of confidence.
She shouldn't even be this way. She knew that. Everything the Lodge had taught her belied it. Still, she clung to Ciri, letting the tears flow and the speech elude her.
When she'd calmed down and felt that she had finally rid herself of some of the hurt she was feeling, Yennefer freed herself of her comforting embrace and claimed her spot beside the girl again.
"H-he said nothing, he said he felt nothing and that it's changed for him."
"Nothing?" Nothing for Yennefer? Or nothing in general? That was worrying. Both options were. "That doesn't make any sense," Ciri muttered, directing her gaze to the ridiculous unicorn beside the bed, freeing Yen from her intense stare. "He had to have loved you before the djinn. Why would he make that wish otherwise? Why would he have bound you together?" She paused, thinking. "Maybe he's just confused."
"Confused?"
If either of them was confused, it was Yennefer. He'd been telling her for years that they were meant to be, that they were destined and that he didn't care to listen to any kind of explanation or theory.
Yet, the moment she had cleared it up, specified it for them both and realized what she assumed he'd always known or suspected, it was shown as the exact opposite.
"I told him I loved him and he said he felt nothing. I can't really picture where the confusion would come in, unless… there was someone else."
She knew of Triss and a series of other women, but she never really worried about them, confident that their connection would always hold, that when it came down to it, they were so drawn to one another that at times she didn't care, either, to try and piece it apart or together. She just lived and accepted.
"Have you heard anything?"
He'd never lied to her before, had given her a truth, and she'd even read it as such, but he'd really surprised her, shocked her so much that amidst her grief Yennefer struggled with disbelief.
"I mean the magic," Ciri said. "It's only just dissipated. Maybe it will take some time for his body and mind to settle?"
All speculations, of course. A wish, really. Because Ciri didn't understand this world where Geralt and Yennefer were not together.
They'd always fought, yes. Even when Ciri was a child and they thought she couldn't hear. She heard. She noticed. But she was never worried. Because they always returned to each other in the end.
The three of them.
Ciri shook her head. "No, of course not. Who else could it be?"
Ciri really was the sweetest most wonderful child. If it hadn't been for that connection, Yennefer knew that she wouldn't have been part of her life and she'd never been gifted something she'd craved.
She filled a hole in Yennefer, something that had been filled with darkness and bitterness for the longest time while Geralt anchored it, squeezing in his own dedications until their joint emotions had been such an overload at times Yennefer had no idea what to do with it.
Magic she could control, her emotions and needs around the two of them, she couldn't, and eventually almost always conceding to what she had deemed was their invisible tether.
"Perhaps. It's possible that the djinn's wish only disquieted him."
But Yennefer knew that wasn't true, that magic didn't work like that and if it had, that she wouldn't have been standing here, that she'd have died that very day the wish had been made.
She didn't want to think about it and her eyes were so sore that she didn't want to cry anymore, either.
"Are you tired?"
"A little," Ciri admitted, wondering how far she could push her with questions. Because she wanted to know more. To understand more.
Maybe Yennefer wasn't the one to answer them. She couldn't speak for Geralt.
Did this mean that they were no longer together? That… they were no longer a family?
And sneakily, a new fear appeared. DId Geralt only love Ciri because she was his destiny? He'd wished for her once but she didn't think he ever intended to claim his prize. Something that had become evident their first few encounters.
Perhaps she was being unfair. Perhaps she was poking possibilities that were better left alone.
"Yes, I'm tired." Ciri changed her mind. She wanted sleep. The kind of sleep where such thoughts wouldn't torment her.
Yennefer also wanted sleep, this talk, the crying, the mere wondering and trying to figure it all out in her head and made sense of that singular word had taken it out of her.
She slipped off the covers, stood beside the bed and pulled the blankets from above the bed, spreading them open as she had done for them the night before when they all had been in better spirits.
The evidence of Geralt's rough-and-ready bed still evident on the floor.
She picked up his pillow, dumped it between them and then carefully got beneath the covers, waiting until Ciri had gotten comfortable, dousing the candles with a mere crook of her fingers.
In the darkness she reached for Ciri's hand, holding it, content to fall asleep knowing she was with her and in need of the amnesty that soon came after.
They curled up beneath the covers, hand in hand, Yennefer miserable, Ciri uncertain. It was a stark difference from the night before when everything had been wonderful.
Ciri lay for a while in absolute silence, listening to the revelries happening in the inn beside them, grateful for the noise they provided. It was a distraction.
And yet… before she could fall asleep, she knew she needed to find Geralt as soon as she was able. Did he have answers? Or was he as confused as she was?
These were the thoughts that stayed with her as she drifted off.