Chapter Text
Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.
Then the pain came.
Sharp, burning, unexpected.
Yennefer gasped. Scrambled to her feet. Rushed out under the other sorceresses’ inquisitive eyes.
Tissaia, she thought as she ran. Please no, please no, please no.
The pain in her wrists lessened while she was halfway through the corridors leading to Tissaia’s quarters. She wished for it to hurt more. Feeling the pain meant consciousness. It meant life.
Yennefer wasn’t a believer, but she prayed.
She prayed when she finally pushed the door open. She prayed when she saw the body on the floor, the blood pooling around it. She prayed when she fell to her knees and grabbed Tissaia’s head to place it in her lap.
“Don’t you dare,” she cried, “don’t you dare do this to me!”
Tissaia was warm in her arms, but she looked so pale. Yennefer tried to quell down the fear that had suddenly risen within her. Now was not the time to be afraid. Now was the time to act.
She saw the remaining flowers on the desk and summoned them. Once they were in her hand, Yennefer reached for Tissaia’s bloodied wrists and placed them on the sorceress’s lap. The blood had stopped pouring out but there was already so much on the floor that Yennefer couldn’t tell if it was too late already. Trying to focus through the fear and adrenaline, she recited all the healing spells she could think of as the flowers wilted and died between her fingers.
She heard a commotion outside, but it barely registered. A few seconds later, her sisters were in the room. Triss dropped to her knees by Tissaia’s side, uncaring that her dress was now ruined by the blood. She joined Yennefer in her incantations, and soon enough the others joined too. Yennefer felt like crying. While reciting, Margarita tore up her own dress to bandage Tissaia’s wrists. Yennefer couldn’t focus on anything other than Tissaia’s face, willing her eyes to open, her lips to part and suck in a breath.
Please, she kept thinking as she spoke the words that would bring Tissaia back to her. Please don’t leave me.
How long the sorceresses remained together in that room fighting to keep Tissaia from the clutches of death, none of them knew. None of them stopped until there was a tremor in Tissaia’s body, until some color returned to her cheeks, until fingers started to move slowly.
Only when Tissaia’s eyes opened and found Yennefer’s worried gaze did the raven-haired mage allow herself to cry, her body folding to cover Tissaia’s until their foreheads touched.
“Why would you,” she lamented in a murmur, the ghost of her words dying against Tissaia’s ear. “How could you?”
A hand on her shoulder. Yennefer looked up to see Triss’s worried eyes on her.
“Come on,” her friend said, “let’s get her into bed. She’s weak.”
With all the care that they could muster, the two women carried Tissaia to the bed in the next room while Keira, Rita and Sabrina cleared their path and went to fetch water. Once they managed to place Tissaia onto her bed, Yennefer wasted no time in taking both of her wrists into her hands. The bandages had to be changed already, the cuts should be disinfected. Triss came to the same conclusion because she disappeared for a minute and came back as quickly as she’d gone with the right supplies. Yennefer let her do the healing she knew needed to be done. Tissaia had yet to speak a word. Her eyes were unfocused, half closed, and Yennefer had felt how weak her pulse was. In silence, the mages worked around Tissaia, cleaned her up, brushed her hair, and all the while Yennefer held her hands and kept her eyes trained on her face.
Finally, when all that could be done at the moment was done, Rita cleared her throat and nodded towards the door. Sabrina, Triss and Keira understood and followed her out, as quietly as possible. Yennefer barely paid attention to them. Tissaia had lost so much blood, her heart could still give out and she needed someone to watch over her. At least it was how Yennefer justified her decision to stay by her side.
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She must have fallen asleep at some point, because Yennefer didn’t remember when Tissaia had opened her eyes, but there she was, staring at her with an unreadable expression. She was still pale, her lips discolored, but she didn’t look as close to death as earlier. When was earlier exactly? The sun was up now, barely enough to cast a soft glow into the room. Yennefer cleared her throat and slowly retracted the hand that was still holding onto Tissaia’s wrist.
“How are you feeling,” she asked, hoping her voice conveyed enough softness even though her emotions were all over the place. A moment passed, and then Tissaia turned her head away, avoiding Yennefer’s gaze and question altogether. Yennefer tried not to take it personally but it still felt like a dagger to the heart. She needed to focus and quell whatever storm was brewing in her heart and mind. “Here, have some water,” she said as she offered Tissaia the wooden cup that Sabrina had brought in earlier. “Please,” Yennefer added when there was no reaction from Tissaia.
The older woman ignored her entirely. With a trembling hand, Yennefer set aside the cup on the nightstand. Tissaia didn’t need to be berated right now. She most likely wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, that was the one wish Yennefer could not grant her. Terrified at the prospect of a second attempt at ending her own life, Yennefer could not imagine leaving Tissaia’s side for a second. In the back of her mind, she knew she would have to, eventually. Ciri was missing. Geralt was badly hurt. They both needed her. Yet she remained with the one person who probably wanted to see her the least at the moment. Yennefer understood, of course. She remembered all too well how angry and dejected she had been when Tissaia had saved her life decades ago. The Rectoress had been the last person she’d wanted in the room with her back then.
How had Tissaia been so sure that Yennefer would not attempt to her life again after she’d left? Yennefer had sometimes wondered about that.
Your pain is my pain.
My pain is your pain.
“Leave,” Tissaia spoke quietly, but in a tone that could not make it clearer that this was an order. It felt like a second knife into Yennefer’s already aching heart. She stood up slowly, wiped her hands on her dress, shook her head and sniffled once. Then she faced the bed once more, even if Tissaia stubbornly refused to look at her.
“I won’t.” Loud and clear, leaving no room for discussion. She hoped the words sounded more assured than she was. Eventually she would have to go, she knew that.
Perhaps with more fight in her, Tissaia would have argued. At the moment, however, she was too weak to bother. Her eyes closed once more, and Yennefer had to remind herself that Tissaia would open them again after she’d slept, that she would be able to see the life in them again. With enough time to heal her soul, maybe she’d even get the chance to see the crinkles around them when Tissaia smiled.
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True to her word, Yennefer set up her bed into the room. It was nothing fancy, bordering on uncomfortable depending on the position she was in, but she couldn’t care less. She’d slept on forest grounds for weeks not so long ago. Triss came to check on the both of them a bit later and told Yennefer she would let the others know about her keeping watch.
“Try to get some sleep while she is asleep,” Triss advised her gently. “You won’t be of any help to anyone if you can’t keep your eyes open.”
“I’ll try,” Yennefer agreed, unsure if she would actually be able to fall asleep. Flashes of Tissaia on the ground surrounded by blood still appeared in her mind and she was afraid her nightmares would be worse.
“She is doing as well as can be,” Triss added after checking Tissaia’s pulse. “Some rest, some food and water, perhaps a healing potion to hasten her recovery…” She trailed off and offered a pained smile to Yennefer. They both knew Tissaia would never fully recover from any of the events of the past few days.
“Thank you, Triss,” Yennefer said softly. Triss understood that was her cue to leave.
Alone with Tissaia once more, Yennefer sighed and sat on her makeshift bed. With enough luck, Tissaia would be in better shape tomorrow. As for her mood, well… Yennefer wanted to hope it would improve, but Tissaia and herself were alike in more ways than one. Undoubtedly, the upcoming days would be emotionally exhausting.