[ theories were for boring old men hiding behinds books and desks, as far as she was concerned. because what did it matter if they worked, or didn't, on paper? what did it matter if the parts of them weren't supposed to fit? all of yennefer's life has been not quite fitting - twisted spine, elven chaos, violet eyes and an unparalled anger. when she was but a child, it had all been about hiding those differences. but then she'd found chaos, and realized that perhaps it was the rest of the world that needed to change instead. she had done her time, put in her effort, sufferred her years. now it was their turn.
because being with istredd like this was easy, ground they both walked on together for too many years not to know by heart. but it is different this time, because while she can push down that gentle warmth that she still - despite her best efforts - holds for him in her chest, she is not the same girl who had walked away from him in that cave. she wasn't even the same woman who passed him at the ball, or came to him in the desert. if anything, she's much closer to the terrified, desperate version of herself that had freed cahir and run.
except that she isn't running anymore - not from him, not from herself, and not from her choices she's made. she is not running from anything in this moment, so instead she will drag him towards her.
and it's fun - gods she had almost forgotten how much fun it was with him - where he grins at her sharp remarks and notices the smaller details she enacts and how he still watches her, still can't take his eyes off of her. so she rips the front of his tunic and he laughs and the way she wants him in that exact moment is almost too much for her to handle. he tugs off the fabric to reveal an older version of himself, decades having passed and muscles having set in and she doesn't hold back in the way her hands reach for him, running down over his chest to appreciate the change.
because they both have changed, haven't they? some years for the better, some for the worst.
which is right when he touches her, reaching down and pressing two fingers into her without any hesitation, and yennefer moans with it, allowing her back to arch up off the mattress. it sends an electric current up her spine, and she wants to keep him right there. wants to see if all his old tricks, if all the things she'd taught him just as he taught her, still applied even after all these decades. but then he's sitting up and off of her, removing his hand, and the moan turns into an unhappy, needy sort of noise that only shifts into a laugh at his words. ]
You don't want to start a scandal so soon? The rumor mill around the castle has been so dry lately.
[ except they both know she wouldn't be walking anywhere like that - if it truly came down to it, she would send him to her room for a fresh set. force him to make the trek across the castle and back again while she made herself back up. not that it matters, because he is working at her skirts and she is pulling loose her blouse. tugging at her own expensive fabrics, knowing that if she drops them off at the court appointed tailor, nothing would be said of it.
it's a few moments later, once the many layers of fabric she wears on any given day are tossed elsewhere in the room, that she looks back up at him - in nothing but her necklass, dark curls splayed out across the mattress, and istredd says gods, i missed you and she hears it. she holds his eyes as he says it before letting a slow, curled smile tug at her mouth.
she reaches for him then, palms back on his chest, his shoulders, up into his hair. it would make sense for her to say something equally passionate, something about how she hasn't felt herself in months until he was summoned. about how his presence here was the first moment of sure footing she's had. but she doesn't say any of it - rather, when her eyes flick back up to his and her grin turns sharp, she says; ] And if you don't hurry up, you'll have to keep doing so.
[ in it's own way, it is a joke - she knows he can pick up on the feeling of the things she does not say. knows that with their connection, just as it's always been, there's no use in pretending otherwise. instead, he finally does lean down and kisses her, and every thought - how much she needs this, how much she wants him right now - is as clear as day. and when he presses his fingers back deep inside her, she grasps at him, her arms wrapping around his middle and her nails scraping along tanned skin, pulling him closer. ]
Fuck, Istredd- [ she breathes up into his mouth, arching up against his chest. ]
no subject
because being with istredd like this was easy, ground they both walked on together for too many years not to know by heart. but it is different this time, because while she can push down that gentle warmth that she still - despite her best efforts - holds for him in her chest, she is not the same girl who had walked away from him in that cave. she wasn't even the same woman who passed him at the ball, or came to him in the desert. if anything, she's much closer to the terrified, desperate version of herself that had freed cahir and run.
except that she isn't running anymore - not from him, not from herself, and not from her choices she's made. she is not running from anything in this moment, so instead she will drag him towards her.
and it's fun - gods she had almost forgotten how much fun it was with him - where he grins at her sharp remarks and notices the smaller details she enacts and how he still watches her, still can't take his eyes off of her. so she rips the front of his tunic and he laughs and the way she wants him in that exact moment is almost too much for her to handle. he tugs off the fabric to reveal an older version of himself, decades having passed and muscles having set in and she doesn't hold back in the way her hands reach for him, running down over his chest to appreciate the change.
because they both have changed, haven't they? some years for the better, some for the worst.
which is right when he touches her, reaching down and pressing two fingers into her without any hesitation, and yennefer moans with it, allowing her back to arch up off the mattress. it sends an electric current up her spine, and she wants to keep him right there. wants to see if all his old tricks, if all the things she'd taught him just as he taught her, still applied even after all these decades. but then he's sitting up and off of her, removing his hand, and the moan turns into an unhappy, needy sort of noise that only shifts into a laugh at his words. ]
You don't want to start a scandal so soon? The rumor mill around the castle has been so dry lately.
[ except they both know she wouldn't be walking anywhere like that - if it truly came down to it, she would send him to her room for a fresh set. force him to make the trek across the castle and back again while she made herself back up. not that it matters, because he is working at her skirts and she is pulling loose her blouse. tugging at her own expensive fabrics, knowing that if she drops them off at the court appointed tailor, nothing would be said of it.
it's a few moments later, once the many layers of fabric she wears on any given day are tossed elsewhere in the room, that she looks back up at him - in nothing but her necklass, dark curls splayed out across the mattress, and istredd says gods, i missed you and she hears it. she holds his eyes as he says it before letting a slow, curled smile tug at her mouth.
she reaches for him then, palms back on his chest, his shoulders, up into his hair. it would make sense for her to say something equally passionate, something about how she hasn't felt herself in months until he was summoned. about how his presence here was the first moment of sure footing she's had. but she doesn't say any of it - rather, when her eyes flick back up to his and her grin turns sharp, she says; ] And if you don't hurry up, you'll have to keep doing so.
[ in it's own way, it is a joke - she knows he can pick up on the feeling of the things she does not say. knows that with their connection, just as it's always been, there's no use in pretending otherwise. instead, he finally does lean down and kisses her, and every thought - how much she needs this, how much she wants him right now - is as clear as day. and when he presses his fingers back deep inside her, she grasps at him, her arms wrapping around his middle and her nails scraping along tanned skin, pulling him closer. ]
Fuck, Istredd- [ she breathes up into his mouth, arching up against his chest. ]