Who: Cirilla and Yennefer What: First encounter Where: Yen's room When: A couple of days after they arrive Warnings: WITCHER SPOILERS Status: Completed via gdocs
CIRILLA
YENNEFER
Ciri was aware of the presence of another in their home. She’d heard the Geralt bring someone in the day before, voices behind a closed door. He’d told her since about who it was, Yennefer of Vengerberg, a mage, someone who was very important to him. That name she’d heard in her dream, back in their own world, the person she’d heard him calling out for. And now Yennefer was there, someone Geralt said could help her -- though he wasn’t clear in what way.
All the same, she was curious about this new person, this other arrival from their world. Geralt she’d felt, had a deep connection with even before they’d met. Yennefer, she didn’t know. She didn’t have an edict from her grandmother to go find her, no proclamation of destiny tying them together. If Geralt trusted her, Ciri felt that was a good sign.
The door wasn’t locked, wasn’t closed anymore, and Ciri carefully stepped into the doorway enough to peer inside.
Adapting wasn’t a foreign concept to Yennefer. Even when thrown into a world that was centuries ahead of her own time, the woman was capable of slipping right into place. This wasn’t to say she was pleased with her newfound life. It was infuriating that there wasn’t any escape, but even more infuriating was the fact that whoever fancied themselves ‘in charge’ of Goodland thought it would be humorous to toss her into the same lodging as Geralt of Rivia.
The one saving grace in all of this? Was his child surprise. Geralt knew her deepest wish. He knew that she longed to be a mother. In her 90 plus years of life, all she wanted was to be important to someone, and maybe...just maybe she could be that for Cirilla.
Sitting in front of her new fancy vanity, she ran a brush through her hair- sensing that she was being spied on and smirking slightly. “Are you just going to stand there and observe all day, or do you intend on joining me?” She asked without looking up from her mirror.
Being spoken to so suddenly caused Ciri to take a small step back, almost chastised for spying, but then she moved forward and took a cautious step into the room. These lodgings were still foreign to her, modern to the world they'd found themselves in but far beyond her imagination in her own.
“Sorry,” she offered, taking Yennefer in a bit better now she was able to see more than her doorway peeking had allowed. “I’m Cirilla. Geralt said you are Yennefer.”
“Don’t ever apologize for your actions, Cirilla,” Yennefer said plainly, taking in the sight of her through the mirror’s reflection. She was a beautiful child, not that she expected any less. Pavetta was a known beauty.
“Yennefer of Vengerberg.” Smiling ever so slightly, she motioned for Ciri to come closer and rose from her seat- offering it to the girl. “Sit?”
Ciri watched the woman get up, took her in, how beautiful she was. Not that she was surprised, she knew mages were beautiful, but it was almost startling to be face to face with it so closely, especially in this strange place. She crossed over to where Yennefer was, sitting in the vacated seat in front of the vanity and glancing up at Yennefer through the mirror’s reflection.
“Were you always in Vergerberg?”
Yen moved behind Ciri, to begin running the brush through the child’s hair gently. She was a bit envious of the white tresses. While her own were dark, and her crowning glory, they didn’t possess the angelic innocence that Cirilla’s did.
Her smile grew a bit more at the girl’s question. “No. I grew up in Vengerberg, but I was sold to another life when I was young. A life that wasn’t any easier, in some ways it was much harder, but it was a life I wanted desperately.” Tilting her head to the side, she continued to brush her hair. “What did the Witcher tell you of me?”
Her eyes closed almost instantly at the touch of the brush to her hair. It felt as though it had been ages since anyone had brushed it, and likely there were plenty of tangles. The gentle touch, the action alone, felt like a luxury she’d long forgotten. Ciri felt a surge of emotion from it, but swallowed it down and focused on what Yennefer was saying.
“That you’re a mage,” she answered, eyes opening slowly to look at her in the reflection again. “And that you’re very important.”
Ciri seemed to be enjoying this little moment, and if the sorceress was honest with herself? So was she. She gently worked through the girl’s tangles, frowning when she realized how long it must have been since she had been pampered. Yen couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, living as a princess and to have it all ripped away. The tale of Cintra’s demise was a brutal one, and she was impressed that Ciri made it out alive.
The brush ceased its movements for a moment at the mention that Geralt said she was important. Hearing it, from someone other than the Witcher himself, struck a chord in Yen- even if it was just an echo of his own words. “Did he elaborate on this importance?”
It felt as though she'd said something wrong, with how Yennefer stopped brushing her hair. Ciri fidgeted with the end of her sleeve as she took in the question, thought back to when she'd asked Geralt about her. There hadn't been much said, but Geralt also didn't seem to have much to say on most matters.
“No, he only said you're very important,” she replied, before adding: “To him.”
To him. Saying it to her was one thing, but the Witcher was telling others. What did all of this mean? What game was he playing? Yen tried not to linger on it, despite every fiber of her being screaming at her. This was not the child’s’ burden to carry, and she would never place it on her shoulders. She already sensed that Ciri was uneasy by the way she tugged at her sleeves.
So, she pushed all of that aside and returned to tending to the tangles in her hair. “Just as you are important, Cirilla. I’m sure you’ve been told that your entire life, without much explanation as to ‘why’ just as I have.”
“No one ever told me anything,” Ciri said quietly, eyes falling closed as Yennefer started working on her hair again. With the fall of Cintra, her grandparents both dead, and now being in Goodland -- there was no chance for answers. She’d tried to get answers from Lazlo when they fled, but he’d taken an arrow to the throat before he was able to say a single word. Another person close in her life who’d met an untimely end.
“They protected and sheltered me and never told me why, then they were gone.”
“That’s what they do. They keep their secrets and tell you it is for your own good, but it does more harm than good.” Yen’s eyebrows lowered in frustration on Ciri’s behalf. Just another girl that their world would use as a vessel. They were seen as possessions, nothing more. “You never have to worry about that with me, Cirilla. I may offer you my protection, but I will not keep you in the dark- especially not when it comes to matters of your own destiny.”
It was a nice reassurance, one that hadn't been spoken by Geralt but she knew of him all the same. Their time together may have been limited but Ciri doubted he would lie to her, or hide the truth. Yennefer and Geralt seemed to share the same direct nature she was growing to appreciate. No dancing around matters, no carefully placed words to mask a true meaning.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her head lolling slightly with the brushing of her hair. “I don't like not knowing things.”
“I don’t require your thanks, but you are very welcome.” Yen remained silent as she worked through the last of the girl’s tangles. She sincerely meant every syllable, and did even more so after Ciri said she didn’t like not knowing things. There were several similarities between the two of them, and because of this Yen already felt as if she could grow to care for her quickly.
Once the brush ran freely through her hair without getting snagged, she placed it back on the vanity- looking fondly at Ciri through the mirror. “There, now stand up and let me have a look at you.”
Despite barely having met Yennefer, and not knowing much about her, Ciri found herself wanting the woman’s approval. Not that she could do anything to change her worn clothes, how she was still a bit thin from being on the run, that there was nothing about her that would indicate that she was a princess -- or anyone notable from someone else. She rose to her feet, taking a step out from the chair and turning to face her, looking up to meet Yennefer’s violet eyes.
“You meet my eyes without hesitation, never lose that trait. Even if you are face to face with something or someone that terrifies you to your very core. Never let them see your fear.” Walking in a circle around Cirilla, she continued to speak- her tone a softer one to let the girl know that she wasn’t judging her appearance. “One look at you, and anyone can see that you’ve been through more than any child of your age should suffer. You are meant to be playing with your friends, laughing until it splits your sides. You are meant to have a childhood, but girls like us? Well the fates have different plans don’t they? It’s cruel, and it isn’t fair. You’re allowed to feel all of these things. Do not let anyone tell you to bottle them up.”
Stopping in front of her, Yen met Ciri’s eyes. “Now, would you like something new? Or a replica of what you already have,” she asked- nodding to the worn clothes the girl adorned.
Ciri held onto everything Yennefer said, especially how she was allowed to feel things. Putting on a brave face, an unwavering exterior, it was part of what was expected in the royal family. One had to be strong, to not give those around them reason to doubt, to fear. She had been through so much, and especially recently hadn't had the chance to stop and feel. The loss of her grandparents, Cintra, being on the run and having to survive kept her from truly processing any of it.
Her gaze met Yennefer’s again when she stopped in front of her, then down to her dress when it was indicated. “Oh.” She thought a moment, considering, but then looked up to the woman in front of her. “Something new, I think.”
Yennefer gave her a rare sweet smile, and waved her hands, materializing a beautiful cerulean gown seemingly out of thin air. It wasn’t too fancy, for she was discovering that the time they were in didn’t share the same appreciation for extravagant clothes as she did, but it was somewhere in between ‘casual’ and ‘formal’.
Placing the gown gently onto the chair, she then produced new shoes and undergarments. “I will take you shopping soon if you like, but for now I think this will suffice.”
The gown was beautiful, as was the ease with which Yennefer had produced it. Ciri watched, almost entranced as the mage pulled even more things out of the air between them. Even having that one set of clothes beyond what she was wearing, it made being there seem so much better. That she could change into something clean once she'd bathed.
As she'd been told, not bottling anything up, Ciri closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around Yennefer in a grateful embrace, her voice wavering slightly when she spoke. “Thank you, Yennefer.”
Yennefer froze for a moment as Ciri’s arms wrapped around her, but it was only for the briefest of moments before she was returning the child’s embrace. For decades all the sorceress had wanted was a child. Someone to love her unconditionally, and someone who viewed her as important.
Upon first arriving here, Yen considered it to be hell, but with every day that passed? She was liking it more and more.
Running her hand fondly through, Ciri’s hair- she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You are very welcome, Cirilla. Anything you need? I am here for you.”