[ truth be told, probably doesn't know nearly as much as she should about the geography of this continent. in aretuza, it had been part of their training, an understanding of the overall land and why, where, and when certain events took place. here in abraxas she has had to start from scratch, learning for herself the academics around magic, the politics of thorne itself, the truth of the singularity that ambrose has been to thick to uncover for himself-
it is only now, really, that it stands out to her. that she doesn't really know - beyond the desert - exists over in the cities territory. it itches at something in the back of her head, something that feels like failure, like a mistake, like she should have known better. it's his voice that pulls her back, a short, graveled as are we and she nods because yes, that is the card solvunn's decided to play. neutrality.
yennefer sits up a bit, finishes off the rest of her glass before setting it back on the table. sliding it towards him in request for him to refill it, though he doesn't quite yet. instead, his fingers wrap around the neck of it. instead, he says the queen, and yennefer feels herself frown. feels, not for the first time, that geralt is trying to say something to her that she needs to parse out. her proximity to the queen has always been well known - since before even the summit, but perhaps even more now after the events of nocwich. geralt had paid the price of that decision early on, and that is something yennefer still - to this very moment - hasn't been able to forget.
but the fact he brings it up now is what confuses her. yes? her furrowed brow seems to say when she catches his eyes, confused in her own right. but then geralt continues, drops his gaze, doesn't quite look at her, and-
oh.
he does not say the words, so yennefer isn't certain she hears them, but she can put enough of it together. can see - or thinks she may see - the words he does not say. yennefer's furrowed brow melts away in those moments of silence that follows, a kind of surprised realization settling in its place. like him, she still remembers that dream, that nightmare, and all that had happened. every decision that she had made, and realized upon her waking, that she would make again. but it does not matter, in the end, when geralt has already made his choice. and while it is not the same choice as he remembers of her, yennefer had made her own. at the summit. at the portals.
her gaze drops to her hands on the table, mirroring geralt's, in that way. ]
I can take care of myself. [ she finally says, though her words are soft. though they do not carry with them the same weight and edge they had on that mountainside. though some part of her doesn't have the same faith in them as she might have, before. because what had nocwich proven to her, if not that she can't protect herself? because she had seen what happened to grigory, what could have been her own fate.
( and she does hate, really and truly hate, just how much it does still hurt. hates how much she wants, hates that even here there is that young, naive part of her that thinks maybe, maybe, because geralt is here and there is something he isn't giving voice to, and if she is right about what he's not saying- )
yennefer takes another, steeling breath. shakes her head with what she had intended to be a laugh, but didn't quite have the edge to it she'd wanted. if anything, it was tired, a bit frayed, like the rest of her. ] At the very least I do have some experience outrunning an army through the woods.
no subject
it is only now, really, that it stands out to her. that she doesn't really know - beyond the desert - exists over in the cities territory. it itches at something in the back of her head, something that feels like failure, like a mistake, like she should have known better. it's his voice that pulls her back, a short, graveled as are we and she nods because yes, that is the card solvunn's decided to play. neutrality.
yennefer sits up a bit, finishes off the rest of her glass before setting it back on the table. sliding it towards him in request for him to refill it, though he doesn't quite yet. instead, his fingers wrap around the neck of it. instead, he says the queen, and yennefer feels herself frown. feels, not for the first time, that geralt is trying to say something to her that she needs to parse out. her proximity to the queen has always been well known - since before even the summit, but perhaps even more now after the events of nocwich. geralt had paid the price of that decision early on, and that is something yennefer still - to this very moment - hasn't been able to forget.
but the fact he brings it up now is what confuses her. yes? her furrowed brow seems to say when she catches his eyes, confused in her own right. but then geralt continues, drops his gaze, doesn't quite look at her, and-
oh.
he does not say the words, so yennefer isn't certain she hears them, but she can put enough of it together. can see - or thinks she may see - the words he does not say. yennefer's furrowed brow melts away in those moments of silence that follows, a kind of surprised realization settling in its place. like him, she still remembers that dream, that nightmare, and all that had happened. every decision that she had made, and realized upon her waking, that she would make again. but it does not matter, in the end, when geralt has already made his choice. and while it is not the same choice as he remembers of her, yennefer had made her own. at the summit. at the portals.
her gaze drops to her hands on the table, mirroring geralt's, in that way. ]
I can take care of myself. [ she finally says, though her words are soft. though they do not carry with them the same weight and edge they had on that mountainside. though some part of her doesn't have the same faith in them as she might have, before. because what had nocwich proven to her, if not that she can't protect herself? because she had seen what happened to grigory, what could have been her own fate.
( and she does hate, really and truly hate, just how much it does still hurt. hates how much she wants, hates that even here there is that young, naive part of her that thinks maybe, maybe, because geralt is here and there is something he isn't giving voice to, and if she is right about what he's not saying- )
yennefer takes another, steeling breath. shakes her head with what she had intended to be a laugh, but didn't quite have the edge to it she'd wanted. if anything, it was tired, a bit frayed, like the rest of her. ] At the very least I do have some experience outrunning an army through the woods.