Chapter Text
Undeniable Truths
“I need your help.”
No formal greeting. No courteous, ‘How are you?’ And certainly no tact.
Tissaia did not put down the book she was reading, and merely gave Yennefer a raised brow at the rude interruption.
“Don’t ask me any questions!” Yennefer quickly added.
Tissaia slowly snuffs the tobacco in her pipe and closes her book stiffly. She does not rise from behind her antiquated desk, but finally gives the unsettled woman her full attention.
“Last I recall, some things were, what was it...just beyond my scope and that you would never return to Aretuza. And yet, here you are. Am I hearing this right? Does the great Yennefer of Vengerberg need my help?”
Needless to say she was still a bit bitter about their previous exchange. The sharp words Yennefer had cut her with in Rhinde were easily thrown back in her face.
“Yes.” Yennefer grinds out through clenched teeth.
“What...” Tissaia starts to question.
Yennefer nearly leaps at her in her haste to shut her up. Arms outstretched and scattering the contents of Tissaia’s desk to the floor, she loudly hushes her. “NO! No questions!”
If Tissaia wasn’t prepared for Yennefer’s particular brand of unpredictability, she might have been startled. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and let her eyebrow join the other at her hairline.
The Rectoress waved her hand and cleared the mess Yennefer had created and gestured for the woman to sit in the chair across from her.
“Explain.”
Yennefer fell with little grace into the proffered chair and lets her head fall into her hands. Tissaia conjures two glasses of wine and offers one wordlessly.
“No, that’s what got me into this mess.” Yennefer declines, peeking through her fingers.
She inclines her head with curiosity, but sets the drink aside and remains quiet.
“You were.....right.” Yennefer struggles with the verbiage on her tongue. “I accepted a potion from a charlatan. He said it was the cure I have been searching for. Then he started asking questions. Tissaia, I didn’t mean to tell him!”
“What did you tell him?” Tissaia interrupts.
Yennefer’s face twists and falls flat as she answers monotonously, “I told him I was no longer with the brotherhood. I told him you remained at Aretuza. I told him we hadn’t spoken in a few years.”
Yennefer slapped her hands on the desk and glared at the Rectoress. “Goddamnit, Tissaia!”
Tissaia’s eyes widen and she leans forward with full interest, comprehension dawning across her sharp features.
“You ingested a truth serum.” She surmises.
Yennefer exhales harshly through her nose and speaks slowly, deliberately.
“I cannot tell lies. Nor can I fight the...compulsion to answer the questions that I am asked.”
“You foolish girl.”
Tissaia’s voice is cool, and laced with the faintest hint of disappointment. Her eyes remain hard as she scrutinizes Yennefer’s face, but the creases in the corners and tightness of her jaw betray her. Yennefer can see the worry underneath.
“And what would you have me do?” Tissaia asks her, voice potent with frustration.
“Me.”
The word falls from Yennefer’s tongue unrestrained. Mortification pours over Yennefer and she scrambles to recover.
“Help me.” She says quickly and immediately averts her eyes, unwilling to let the older woman see her humiliation.
Tissaia’s hand travels up to touch the heavy pendant around her neck as she contemplates Yennefer’s dilemma. The violet-eyed mage watches the delicate hand intently before looking away once more, attempting to stamp down her rising desire.
“You have a talent with potions. You developed the De Vries extract, you can create a cure!”
“It took me two lifetimes to achieve that!” She exclaims in exasperation.
Tissaia set her half-empty glass on the desk and began to slowly pace in front of her expansive bookcase. On her third pass in front of her, Yennefer reached out and tentatively touched her elbow.
Tissaia stilled and Yennefer quickly withdrew her hand.
“Please.”
Tissaia let her eyes roam over Yennefer’s body. If asked, it was purely for scientific reasons. Her eyes were guarded and weary. Her naturally wild mane of curls was a tangled mess that, combined with her general chaotic nature, gave her the appearance of a woman on the edge. It likely took everything in her to swallow her pride and drag her way to Thanedd. To her. Why her? She never wanted any of her help before.
And of course Tissaia was going to help her. She never could stand to see Yennefer suffer, for some inexplicable reason. That doesn’t mean Yennefer needed to know that.
“I’ll do what I can. In exchange, I’ll expect a favor in return.”
Yennefer couldn’t help the devilish smile that broke on her face. “Oh Tissaia, I didn’t realize you needed some of your own needs met. I get it, quid pro quo.”
A crimson wave rose up over Tissaia before she could control it and she sputtered. “Don’t be crass. Not that kind of favor!”
But still, Yennefer’s grin remained. Any chance to ruffle the rigid Rectoress, she would take.
Tissaia took a calming breath and the mask fell back into place. She withdrew a singular book from the shelf and set it on the desk before returning to her former student. She stood a few paces back but pinned Yennefer with a searching gaze. She clasped her hands at her middle and inclined her head.
“Do you trust me, Yennefer?”
“Yes.” Came her immediate, honest response.
“Good.” Tissaia said simply. “You’re going to need to.”
Yennefer narrowed her eyes slightly as the older sorceress returned to her forgotten glass.
“You will remain here at Aretuza until we find a solution. It is in your best interests to remain in these room and not to engage with anyone. You will research in the areas that I provide for you while I teach and attend to Chapter business.”
“I didn’t realize I was to be your prisoner.” Yennefer bites out sardonically.
Tissaia takes a long sip from the last of her wine and Yennefer can’t help but drink in the sight of the pale column of her bared throat.
“My dear, do you have any idea of the extent of the predicament you have gotten yourself into?”
“Yes.” Yennefer replies as prompted. “For fuck’s sake, stop!”
Tissaia allows a small quirk of the lips at Yennefer’s indignation.
“I could ask you any question in the world, and you would have to answer. You have made yourself entirely too vulnerable and you are trusting me not to abuse that power.”
Yennefer purses her lips and digs her fingernails angrily into the leather of her chair.
“Now imagine what any other individual could do with that power.”
Tissaia leans forward and cups Yennefer’s chin firmly in her hand and meets her eyes.
“I am not any other person.” She says gently before releasing her. “But I am just that. You will need to be forgiving of certain...missteps. I promise, I will not intentionally use these circumstances against you.”
Yennefer let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding as Tissaia released her and cleared her throat.
“Where do we start?”