Yennefer hated waiting. She hated sitting idle when she could be doing something. And currently she was growing to also hate the writings of Gonzal de Verceo, having read the poet's verse collection for the third time while awaiting Ciri's return.
If there had been any truth to Lambert's startling observation, then Yennefer couldn't risk waking Geralt for a second opinion. As it were, the sleeping spell seemed be holding the ailment at bay. If only Vesemir were still alive. The wizened witcher would have been able to confirm or deny any allegations safely and perhaps offer insight into a possible cure.
She sighed and snapped the book closed, placing it atop the polished mahogany tabletop beside her elbow. Delicate fingertips went to her temple to ease a growing headache.
A voice broke the candle-lit room's silence. "Cad? Cad me?"
It was Geralt's voice. He was finally breaking through the enchanted sleep, though why the witcher was speaking in the Elder's Speech was beyond her. "Safe Geralt. You're safe." Yennefer answered. Her violet eyes settled on the large canopied bed centered along the far side of the room.
"Geralt?… Me n'esse…" The man sat up clutching his bandaged arm, his face contorting in pain. "Beth tuvehan te tuve um me?" He accused her, rocking his arm close to his chest.
"I have done nothing to…" She looked up, her eyes meeting his penetrating gaze that never wavered from her face. His hand was busy groping towards a pair of bandage scissors left on the side table and in response, Yennefer began pulling away from the blue cushioned chair where she had spent the previous hours.
A hint of concern edged into Yennefer's voice. "Geralt…?"
"Me n'esse Geralt." He spat.
Her lips tensed, and she touched the obsidian star tied around her throat. Her violet eyes briefly danced across his familiar features searching for a hint of recognition within his… green… eyes. Green… why were they green? Something was wrong, something was very wrong. Magic flared across her choker's surface as she readied a spell.
His grip tightened around the scissors, as his eyes flitted between her and the door behind her.
"Te sees cáemm neén vort!" Yennefer warned.
"Esseath aép neén ban um voe'rle me." He had slipped away from the bed and had begun creeping towards her, his feet padding softly along the intricately woven rug that decorated the black and white stone-tile floor.
"Que corff n'ess eich yn saov." Metamorphic possession was not completely unheard of… "Me byddai gweld te ddychwelyd iddo." … but for a witcher to fall under influence of a spirit?
The man hesitated, unsure of what to make of her accusation.
Don't make me do this. Thought Yennefer bitterly, as the man seemingly had overcome his doubt and took another step forward. Then another. His intent was written plainly on his borrowed face. Please, don't make me do this.
The single candle flame flickered as the air crackled with magic. A knock at the door punctuated the quiet, and the moment's distraction was all it took for the green eyed spector to close the space between them.
"Geralt!" Shrieked Yennefer, as the scissors came stabbing down.
There was a clang of steel on steel, as Ciri deflected the blow. She pulled up beside Yennefer and held the witcher's sword out protectively across the both of them.
Agony spiked across the specter's body as the black marks wound their way higher up his arm, spurring him into action again.
Ciri readied herself for a strike that never came.
The scissors hovered in the air, the hand holding them straining with effort. "Ci … ri?" There was a moment of recognition in once more golden eyes. "Yen-" Geralt's voice was cut off as a spasm of excruciating pain took hold. Swirls of green began stealing back into his eyes.
All at once Yennefer released the magic that hung in the air, redirecting its initial offensive purpose. "Egvane navr."
The sleeping spell gripped Geralt and dragged him unconscious, tearing the scissors from his hand in the process. His body fell to the floor with a resounding thud, and both Ciri and Yennefer winced as his head bounced off the stone.
Ciri lowered the steel and returned it to its sheath. "Yennefer… what's happening to Geralt?" Asked Ciri, her back still to the sorceress. Her eyes set on Geralt's unconscious form.
Yennefer knelt beside the fallen witcher and carefully opened an eye. It was gold. Relief was fleeting as she recalled the events that had transpired. The black marks' progressions had been halted once more.
"Yennefer?"
How could she to explain what was happening to Geralt, when she barely understood it herself? Regardless of the spirit's intentions, the possession would kill him. Geralt's witcher mutations were reacting violently against the metamorphosis, forcing a rejection that should never have occurred …
"Yennefer." Ciri touched her shoulder, startling Yennefer away from her thoughts. "What's going on?"
He's dying. Careful not to betray her thoughts, the sorceress replied. "I don't know."
"You're lying." There was a quiver in the young empress' voice.
"Ciri…"
"No Yennefer. Don't shelter me. Don't try to protect me from this. I want the truth. Please. What's happening to Geralt? Why did he try to hurt… no. Why did he try to kill you?"
Perceptive as always. That would be your doing wouldn't it? Yennefer stroked a loose silver strand away from Geralt's face. "I wish I knew Ciri. I wish I knew."
"But you have a suspicion? You always have some clue, some hint…"
"I do."
"Then…?"
"If we leave things as they are we'll lose him. Either the rejection will take him, or he'll no longer be the man we knew. Either way, we will lose him." She sighed. "This is something beyond even my abilities to fix."
The answer Yennefer gave Ciri was beyond her, that much was evident on Ciri's fallen expression. She wasn't ready to hear it, despite how she had begged. "We… we can. We'll find a way to help him, we won't leave Geralt like this. We can't. We can't…" Ciri's hand went to the baldric holding the swords along her back, as if afraid they would suddenly disappear.
Yennefer's heart ached for Ciri. How much easier it could have been to just continue to lie to her to avoid such pain. She forced a smile. "You're right Ciri. We can't just give up yet. Not while there is still time." The sorceress held her arms open for the young woman. "Come here." Ciri nearly fell into Yennefer's embrace, eager for the comfort that her black-and-white cloaked arms promised. "I will do everything in my power to help him, this I promise you." Yennefer stroked Ciri's hair and held her close. "This I promise."
Elder Speech translations:
(Please PM me if I got the translations wrong!)
Cad? Cad me? - Where? Where am I?
Beth tuvehan te tuve um me? - What did you do to me?
Me n'esse Geralt. - I am not Geralt.
Te sees cáemm neén vort. - You will go no further.
Esseath aép neén ban um voe'rle me. - You are in no place to stop me.
Que corff n'ess eich yn saov. - That body is not your's spirit.
Me byddai gweld te ddychwelyd iddo. - I would see you return him.
