Chapter 17

490 14 1
                                    

Y/n was preparing herself for the night to come, sharpening her daggers and honing her abilities as she waited for the sun to set. Jaskier was speaking with the elves, telling them what it would entail to sneak to the docks. He was always the one to speak with them, for the both of them knew he was better with his words of comfort than she was. So, every night whenever he prepared the elves, she would prepare herself should any guards from Redania find their way into the path. She wouldn't kill civilians, but the guards, who were armed and just as able of killing her, she would fight.

She grabbed her beloved bird dagger that Jaskier had given her, along with the one Geralt had given her all those years ago when she first joined his side. She gazed down at it, the steel not as shimmering as when she first got it, and let out slight sigh before sticking it in it's sheath on her side, the other following soon afterward. She didn't go out with her sword, as it drew too much attention, but she had gotten very good at handling only her daggers.

"Something on your mind?" she heard from behind her, and turned to see Yennefer standing in the doorway of her room. She let out a breath, slightly startled from the witch's sudden appearance before turning back to her belongings. "You know, all this would be a little easier if you just trusted me."

"Yes, because you've always made it so easy to trust you," Y/n snapped back, not looking her way and remaining to fix the bed just to have something to do while Yennefer was there.

"I've never been in a position where I've needed to ask for your help," Yennefer pointed out, and Y/n paused for a mere moment before turning and grabbing a few elixirs from a nearby desk to put in her knapsack. "I wouldn't be here unless I absolutely had to. Unless I knew that you and the bard were the only way out."

"Yes, and what happens once you get out?" Y/n questioned, turning to look at the witch. "Yennefer, you may be quarter elf, but I know you well enough to know you would do anything to save your own skin. You might not sell us out, but you might do something just as bad to someone else."

"We're a lot alike, you know," Yennefer cut her off, crossing her arms over her chest.

Y/n glared at Yennefer, shaking her head with a laugh, one filled with spite. "We are nothing alike."

"We are both blood of a race the Continent thinks it's better off without," Yennefer said, and Y/n stopped her motions fully, leaning forward against the wood desk. "And, whether we like it or not, we are bound to Geralt in some way or form." Yennefer's eyes went to the dagger Y/n had been looking at, and knowing the stories she and Geralt shared in their moments together, it was the one Geralt had given the siren when he first found her. "You'll find your way back to him, somehow. As will I."

"And yet... neither of us wants to," Y/n relented, clicking her tongue before turning back to meet the magical eyes of the mage. "But destiny always has to fuck us right in the arse, doesn't it?"

"Hm," Yennefer said, looking down at her hands. "Destiny has a shitty way of showing itself."

Y/n looked over the woman standing in front of her, her mind at ease for once. But it was an ease that didn't come from comfort of her presence. No, this ease was something other. Her eyebrows furrowed, and Yennefer caught sight of her gaze. "So, that's why you're here," Y/n whispered, and Yennefer closed her eyes and looked to the ground. "If it were any normal day, you'd portal your way out of the northern kingdoms before they even had a chance to recognize your face... but you can't."

"It seems that even chaos is finished with me, like everything else," Yennefer stated, and Y/n knew. Yennefer had lost her magical abilities.

"What happened at Sodden Hill," Y/n began, stepping away from the nightstand. "I heard about it. That's how you spent your chaos, isn't it? The fire magic."

His Little Bird: JaskierWhere stories live. Discover now