[ no, the word 'hate' wouldn't have been said aloud. yennefer very rarely spend the time to voice it, when the feeling is a little too true. her actions tend to say plenty, and the distance she had very explicitly placed between them had been plenty loud enough. she knows thancred had known, knows that it had been something unspoken between them, and while some part of her wonders if it's even worth bringing up now, a larger part knows that there is no good in leaving it unsaid.
just as thancred sits there, hand outstretched for her own, and waits - open, vulnerable, patient - she can give him the same courtesy. ]
No, I wasn't. [ she argues with him, once her hand is in his own. once she crosses whatever marginal distance had been left between them. ] I had myself to blame, mostly. And then perhaps Lucifer, but that's only because I'll always find some way to fault him. [ which is... well, it's a joke, yes. but it's also an attempt at a diversion - yennefer, not really wanting to think too much on how poorly she handled past events, what she did and what she should have done, the wedge in drove into so much of her life. it all feels ridiculous, in a way, to think that at that time she'd thought it had all come crumbling down, when in so many more ways things were just beginning.
thancred closes his eyes, relieved, and yennefer watches - shifts so that she is leaning a little closer to him, her hold on his hand a little more settled. I am sorry he says, and she very nearly argues with him. tell shim that one more apology and she'll force him to have that glass of wine, but the mention of now has her stilling, because he is right. the old wounds, the fear that the familiarity of this all instills in her, it's the reason she is pushing back the way she is.
to be in that place again - scared, alone, without magic - she can't do it again.
she won't.
she isn't.
thancred opens his eyes and she sees the hardness in his gaze, the way his hands tighten around her own, and gods. she supposes that is it, then. whatever she had been musing, whatever she had been sure of but still unsure of, it all leaves her. I can hardly force you he says. ]
You could not force me, even if you attempted to. [ her eyes go to his hands, where they sit in her own. they linger there for a moment before she sighs, and then speaks. ]
I'm joining you and Stephen. [ which perhaps should be said in question, should be a request, but it is yennefer. there's no question there to be had. ] Wherever it is this stupid, vague plan is meant to take us. I've decided to come.
no subject
just as thancred sits there, hand outstretched for her own, and waits - open, vulnerable, patient - she can give him the same courtesy. ]
No, I wasn't. [ she argues with him, once her hand is in his own. once she crosses whatever marginal distance had been left between them. ] I had myself to blame, mostly. And then perhaps Lucifer, but that's only because I'll always find some way to fault him. [ which is... well, it's a joke, yes. but it's also an attempt at a diversion - yennefer, not really wanting to think too much on how poorly she handled past events, what she did and what she should have done, the wedge in drove into so much of her life. it all feels ridiculous, in a way, to think that at that time she'd thought it had all come crumbling down, when in so many more ways things were just beginning.
thancred closes his eyes, relieved, and yennefer watches - shifts so that she is leaning a little closer to him, her hold on his hand a little more settled. I am sorry he says, and she very nearly argues with him. tell shim that one more apology and she'll force him to have that glass of wine, but the mention of now has her stilling, because he is right. the old wounds, the fear that the familiarity of this all instills in her, it's the reason she is pushing back the way she is.
to be in that place again - scared, alone, without magic - she can't do it again.
she won't.
she isn't.
thancred opens his eyes and she sees the hardness in his gaze, the way his hands tighten around her own, and gods. she supposes that is it, then. whatever she had been musing, whatever she had been sure of but still unsure of, it all leaves her. I can hardly force you he says. ]
You could not force me, even if you attempted to. [ her eyes go to his hands, where they sit in her own. they linger there for a moment before she sighs, and then speaks. ]
I'm joining you and Stephen. [ which perhaps should be said in question, should be a request, but it is yennefer. there's no question there to be had. ] Wherever it is this stupid, vague plan is meant to take us. I've decided to come.