Chapter Text
With a soft breath she blew the flame on the candle, extinguishing it into rising smoky tendrils, creeping their way to the ceiling of the quaint shop. She breathed deep, the scents of her various oils and ingredients that lined her shelves filled her nose pleasantly. She couldn't help but feel drained after the long day, even if it had been relatively uneventful. It was why she so enjoyed life now, even if it was strange. Sitting still was never her forte, and boredom sought to drive her mad at one point.
Until everything that had happened leading up to this new life.
Life was simple now, without the complications that came with the company she kept. They couldn't be entirely to blame, of course. She had put herself in these situations after all, and allowed them to go on as long as she did. At least she took control that day in Skellige, on that wrecked mage's ship. Geralt may no longer love her, but at least she isnt living a lie anymore.
She tried not to let the outcome make her bitter, but bitter was something she specialized in.
In the end, when all was said and done, Yennefer bid her farewells to those she fought beside against the Wild Hunt to take up a life back home, away from the chaos and the things that hurt her the most. Away from Geralt and his wandering eyes, away from the lodge and their never ending, usually dangerous plots. Away from Triss Merigold, the woman she once called her closest friend and confidante, and the knot of betrayal that settled in her chest every time she looked her way.
It had only been a couple of months since then, mere seconds in the sorceress world, but the pain lessened with each passing day.
It turns out Geralt left her high and dry as well, once he was through with playing the both of them. She could be mad at Geralt, as he deserved it. But with Triss, the anger also served to hurt her deeply. She knew not where any of them were now, and she found she no longer cared.
She groaned as she stretched high above her head once she put the last remaining vial of potion back on her shelf. She was about to turn to head upstairs, to where she resided in the luxurious loft she made for herself above her little shop of magicks, when there was a tug at the already locked front door.
She let out a huff of frustration, "I'm closed for the day," she called out, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice.
She managed only the first step to the upstairs when a knock came, rapt and persistent. The bells hanging above chimed as they trembled against the wood. She felt her annoyance growing, and she turned and scowled at the door, "are you hard of hearing? I'm closed!"
She could see a silhouette on the other side of the stained glass window, the figure distorted by the reflective glass. The figure shifted as though impatient, onto the other foot.
"Now now Yennefer, is that any way to greet an old friend?" came the muffled voice from the other side.
That voice.
The headache that had been threatening her skull gave way, and a pounding began in her temples. The annoyance had turned into something like anger, coursing through her veins with every thud of her head. There was only one reason this voice would be greeting her at an hour like this, and Yennefer already had a snide remark playing on her lips as she debated on turning heel and going upstairs anyway.
She grit her teeth and conceded, making her way to the door of the shop. She had to admit her curiosity got the best of her, and besides, it would be nice to tell the woman where to go directly to her face. She swung the door open, leaning in the frame. She made no attempts to move or invite her inside.
"Philippa," she drawled, frustration laced in her tone, "to what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?"
Yennefer took in the sight of her, which was relatively unchanged. That was the way it was for sorceresses, the remained beautiful their entire long lives, and usually didn't change their styles up much. Yennefer still loved her black and white color scheme.
She wore a maroon and deep blue gown, tied at the middle with a silver buckle. Her hair still styled in twin braids hanging down her chest, the hair such a rich brown it looked almost black in the night. She wore her faint glowing headband around her non existent eyes, the enchanted fabric her only means of sight. Philippa had been on some sort of quest to regain her sight last Yennefer had checked, and it appeared she was still failing in that regard. Yennefer didn't know whether to feel smug or pity for the woman.
The other woman ignored her question, opting instead to gaze about the outside of the shop, her expression unimpressed. "So this is where you've been hiding. I must say, I wasn't expecting one of the worlds most powerful sorceresses to be peddling cheap potions and love spells out of a rickety old shop but here we are."
Yennefer sighed with contempt, "if you've come all this way just to try and insult me for something I chose, you'll be sorely disappointed by my lack of reaction. How did you know where I was, anyway?"
Philippa harrumphed, "because you're predictable, Yennefer. I knew you would most likely end up back in Vengerberg, escape to the safe familiarity. I just wasn't expecting this." She gestured to the shop, and Yennefer couldn't help but seethe where she stood.
"Enough about my lifestyle. If you don't tell me why you're here, you can consider this conversation over." She knew what Philippa was doing, dancing around the real reason for her arrival to torment Yennefer. What she could never comprehend was how Philippa expected to get anywhere with anyone when she displayed such utter disrespect.
"My, you're awfully prickly for someone in retirement." Yennefer continued to stare daggers at her, "well aren't you at least going to invite me in?" still nothing. Philippa sighed, "it's a sensitive matter, Yennefer. It would do well to have this conversation indoors."
Yennefer let out an audible groan of frustration, not hesitating to let her displeasure be known as she pushed herself from the doorway, making way to let the woman inside. She closed and locked the door behind them, watching as Philippa gazed around the room with the same bored look as before, but at least this time she held her tongue. Yennefer was not embarrassed by her new lifestyle by any means, but she would not tolerate Philippa trying to make that happen.
"Come, let's go upstairs," Yennefer mumbled as she pushed passed Philippa, who began to follow her up the creaking steps.
Upon entering her living area, it was like a whole different world than that of her modest shop downstairs. She enjoyed her space, but detested clutter. Marvelous white marble floors paved the living area underneath an expensive black fur rug. A fire was already roaring on against the far wall, where two large armchairs sat behind a dark oak table. She had her bedroom and a spare room down the hall, though she never saw any visitors, and Philippa Eilhart would not be staying.
"Now this is more like the Yennefer I know," Philippa said smugly behind her, "I see you haven't succumbed to humbleness completely."
"There's nothing wrong with having nice things, Philippa," Yennefer responded evenly, "you should try it sometime."
It wasn't as if it was hard for Yennefer to obtain coin. After their defeat of the Wild Hunt, together they had made quite the fortune from armor and weapons alike. Not to mention here in Vengerberg her shop did more than well, as magic was still looked to as an aid to society here, unlike Redania. She was left with more than enough to splurge on her home the way she wanted to, and maintain her lifestyle.
Philippa said nothing to her remark and Yennefer took it as a small victory. The other woman was already moving to sit in one of the chairs, but she chose to remain standing. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the mantle.
"So, what's this big secret? Still trying to revive the Lodge? I assure you my answer hasn't changed in that regard."
Philippa's brows furrowed, "you're not going to offer me a drink?"
Yennefer's hands went to her temples, massaging the aching pulse underneath her skin. Her jaw clenched as she spoke, "you've been here all of five minutes and you've already gotten on my nerves more than once. Tell me why you're here Philippa, or so help me God."
The other woman smiled suddenly, though it was not a pleasant one. It was the one she wore when she was scheming, and she already knew she wasn't going to like what the woman had to say.
"I regret to say that I find myself in a situation that could use your…assistance."
Yennefer scoffed; if Philippa Eilhart thought she could just march into Yennefer's home to ask for her help, she should know that she was wasting her time. She wouldn't mind watching her beg for it, though she doubted the woman would ever stoop to such a level.
"This is about the Lodge. My answer is no, I will not be joining your organization of shady dealings and merciless plotting. Nor will I aid in your revival of it."
Philippa looked annoyed, as much as she could without her eyes, "will you be quiet? It's not about the revival of the Lodge, not exactly."
"Not exactly?" Yennefer scoffed again in disbelief.
Philippa's jaw set then, and it was slightly unsettling to see the woman so unnerved when she usually masked her emotions brilliantly. In fact, she couldn't recall the last time she had seen any form of emotion whatsoever in her. It seemed that she only lived and breathed for politics, and Yennefer assumed this should be no different, until this look of pain had crossed her face.
"You know Radovid continues his genocide of magical beings, yes?"
"Of course, everyone is well aware. I've heard he's now turned his attention to dwarves and elves alike. I hope you've had enough sense to finally get yourself out of Oxenfurt."
Philippa looked to the fire now, watching intently as the flames danced and licked their way upwards, "I did, but I'm afraid something has come up that requires my return."
Yennefer waited for her to continue, her mind trying to come up with it's own explanation, but she found herself at a loss. Philippa, a proud woman, wouldn't normally come to anyone asking for help in anything unless it was truly needed, let alone someone like Yennefer's.
"Margarita and Sheala have been arrested, and are currently held in Deireadh prison. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you what that entails."
Yennefer's heart sunk and she felt her eyes slip shut on their own accord, letting out a painful sigh. "Oh God, what were they thinking? The both of them, in that area?"
Philippa gave an indifferent shrug, "they had heard of Triss Merigold's plan to evacuate the mages from Novigrad. They were apprehended before they could make contact with her."
"Shit," Yennefer cursed under her breath, at a loss for words otherwise. She knew what Philippa expected of her now, to assist her in breaking them out of prison. She also knew of Philippa's motives, for it was known that Margarita was in full support of bring the Lodge back, something the other woman could not do without that support. She assumed Sheala was already on board as well.
"You only need Margarita for the Lodge," Yennefer couldn't help but hiss, directing her anger towards Philippa, "could you really care enough to risk your own life for that?"
Philippa looked thoughtful for a moment, "while it's no secret, Margarita's importance to the Lodge, you couldn't possibly believe that's all this is about? She is one of us, Yennefer, and yes, there is an us whether you like it or not. I like to think that when it comes down to it, we take care of our own. Similar to how I assisted you and your witcher's predicament with the Wild Hunt, thus saving the woman you've come to see as a daughter."
Yennefer shook her head in disbelief, "you don't need to guilt me into helping you. What, were you just waiting, holding this over my head until an opportune moment came along?"
"Something like that."
Yennefer groaned and began to pace the room, on the brink of throwing the insufferable woman out. It angered her more that Philippa was right and had now trapped her. She was right to believe that Yennefer may have denied her, though, had she not reminded her of her assistance with the Wild Hunt. She had no intentions of helping Philippa even if it meant leaving Margarita to rot in prison. These sort of things weren't supposed to be her business anymore.
"I would hope if you were coming to me you would already have some sort of a plan laid out. You realize none have escaped Deireadh? It's not as though we can just teleport anywhere near there, the place is a fortress," she stated as she turned from where she was pacing to see Philippa still sitting calm as ever.
"There is one," Philippa said flippantly, "a vagrant by the name of Abbe Faria. I managed to track him down at a tavern in Oxenfurt," she ignored the incredulous look on Yennefer's face, "apparently, there is a way in through the sewers at the river. That, and the guards frequent the drink on their shifts."
Yennefer scrunched her nose, "the sewers? And I don't suppose you'll just change into a bird and fly right on through while I'm stuck knee deep in filth?"
Philippa smiled, making the vein throb in Yennefer's head.
"I don't know about this…it's bound to be more than just a few drunken guards. This is the prison where Radovid keeps his most valuable captives. I think you're in over your head."
"I'm aware of the risks, and frankly I don't care," Philippa said with a dismissive wave, "I've worked too hard for Radovid to come along and fuck everything up. I know you don't directly get anything out of this for yourself, I too am an opportunist, so I would understand if you don't want to assist me. But I will be going, regardless."
Yennefer let her eyes slip shut again as she weighed her options. Damn Philippa, her life had been so peaceful until she had shown up on her doorstep. It wasn't beneath her to not care what happens to any of those who are simple minded enough to want to revive the lodge, but she couldn't deny the aid Philippa had provided in their fight to keep Ciri safe. She also couldn't deny that what was happening to the non-humans was an abomination, and she had a sneaking suspicion she would be filled with remorse living with the knowledge that she didn't try.
If anything, it might be good to get out of the house.
"Why my help?" Yennefer asked, narrowing her eyes.
"That's a stupid question. Without our dear hunky witcher I need someone to keep any creatures we run into at bay. You're a powerful sorceress, I'm sure it wouldn't be anything you can't handle."
"But you don't trust me," she pointed out.
"No, not generally. But I do with this. I don't think you want the girls in there as much as I do."
Yennefer already knew she was going to give in and agree to go with her, not feeling like she had much of a choice in the matter. She knew the woman was right, and that this was only the right thing to do. But it was dangerous, and Yennefer was no fool just to let Philippa use her and not get something out of it.
"I want payment."
"Payment?" Philippa scoffed, "look at this loft, I don't think it's coin you need. Besides, one might say you owe me this, wouldn't you agree?"
Yennefer shook her head, "we had the army of Nilfgaard to face the Wild Hunt, you were hardly in danger. You're asking me to walk into almost certain death, at the hands of a madman no less."
"You're doing this just to spite me. You know very well we were nearly killed in Skellige."
"Maybe I am."
Philippa looked like she might get out of her chair and storm away for a moment, until she gritted her teeth and breathed hard through her nose, "fine. We'll determine your payment in accordance with how difficult this ends up being. Don't expect much if we're in and out."
Yennefer pinched her nose, trying to alleviate her headache, "when did you want to do this?"
"Let's go back to Oxenfurt tonight. I have a hideout there, we can get the preparations done and then plan for the following night."
"You certainly don't waste any time," she grumbled, "just let me go pack and we can be on our way."
She laughed to herself as she went down the hall and to her wardrobe. "This is madness," she muttered, still unsure as to why she was even going. It was true, she didn't need the coin. But something was telling her she needed to do this. She never had much of a sisterly bond with the rest of the sorceresses, save for Triss perhaps. Maybe something within her felt obligated to help Margarita and Sheala. It's not as though she could use the excuse of having something better to do, either.
She threw some clothes haphazardly into a pack; it wasn't as though she would be there long, no matter what the outcome.
She returned to find Philippa already standing, "We'll teleport to the hut and be on foot from there. It's not far from the rivers edge."
"Awfully risky camping out so close to Radovid and his soldiers," Yennefer chided, "it's a marvel you're not locked up with them."
Philippa waved her hands through the air, her hands crackling with electricity as she conjured a portal for them.
"What is it they say? High risk, high reward?"
They arrived at the hut in the dead of night, not a sound to be heard other than the odd howl of a wolf in the distance. The moon was high, lighting the area around them in it's pale glow, shimmering on the waters surface down the hill. They were just on the outskirts of Oxenfurt, buried in the side of a small cliff, overlooking the flicker of the city lights below.
"I assume this place is enchanted?" Yennefer said as she scrunched her nose at the old hut. She suddenly wished she had stayed home.
"Of course it is," Philippa replied, "and fear not, it is far nicer inside."
Sure enough, upon stepping over the rotted threshold she was taken into what was actually a nice room, surely due to the enchantments of course. Dark hardwood stretched the length of the floor of the open room, two beds sat in the furthest corners. In the center, on a large maroon rug, was a round oak table, candles alight on the top.
She noted the alchemy set up to the left of the doorway.
"Not bad for a hermit," Yennefer chuckled out the back handed comment which Philippa chose to ignore. Instead, the other woman opted to pull a large screen from the wall, separating the two beds with as much privacy as a thin sheet could.
"It's late. Tomorrow, we will work on concocting some potions and amulets, anything that may assist us with getting inside. We should bring something for immediate medical requirements, I would imagine the girls might be a little worse for wear."
"It's been months since Triss got the mages out of Novigrad," Yennefer pointed out, "how can you be sure that they're still alive?"
"The vagrant told me so," Philippa replied, earning an incredulous look from Yennefer. It was utterly ridiculous for her to trust the word of some starving homeless man. "And it's a chance I'm willing to take. If there's one thing Radovid enjoys it's torturing his victims. My guess is he wouldn't allow them to die any time soon."
Yennefer kept the rest of her doubts to herself as Philippa blew out the candle and strode to her side of the curtain. She had a moment of humor when she contemplated whether or not Philippa brought her all the way up here to try and kill her. Of course, she would disintegrate the woman should she ever have the guts to try.
She sighed as she undid her black leather gambeson, releasing the tight lacing that held it together. Left in nothing but her underwear she slipped under the soft sheets, trying to ignore the nervous waves crashing in her stomach. She rarely felt overwhelmed, especially given everything she had faced thus far. But something about this prison had her on edge, perhaps it seemed too simple when examined by Philippa.
She tried to force herself into a fitful sleep, taking comfort in knowing that if it didn't work out, she could at least rub that in Philippa's face.
If they both lived, that is.
Philippa must never sleep, and she must definitely not care for the sleep of others, for it felt as though Yennefer had just closed her eyes when she was already jolted awake by the sound of the screen crashing back to the wall.
"Get up, Yennefer, we have work to do," she said shortly. Yennefer was regretting this trip more and more as the minutes spent with Philippa dragged on.
"You asked for my help," Yennefer said hotly, "the least you could do is treat me with the respect I deserve. I am not beneath you."
Philippa said nothing and she was glad for it. Yennefer was no stranger to her own temper, and she was actually surprising herself with the amount of resolve displayed since Philippa's arrival. If she continued to push her, she would be on her own, and she doubted she would be able to get through the prison herself. Perhaps if she stayed as a bird she would, but she couldn't very well open the cells and get the women.
She must have understood Yennefer's worth after that, for she stayed quiet throughout most of the day, save for small and necessary conversations. She was expecting her to be shoving the Lodge down her throat, or try some sort of manipulative tactic to use Yennefer for something more that she had not yet revealed, but it never happened.
They spent the morning preparing various healing potions and salves, knowing the injuries they were likely to encounter, if not on themselves, then on the two woman held captive. Yennefer had gathered some items from her shop before they left, and had been working on a little project of her own.
"Here," she said to Philippa, who was bottling her last poison antidote. She handed her an amulet, a deep purple stone on the end of it as thing as an arrow, "snap that in half and you'll be invisible as long as you move slowly and quietly. Don't engage with anyone or anything. We can use them once inside, and we should at least get to the cells without being noticed. Once we reach the cells we will have to become visible, so getting back out may be tricky."
Philippa looked impressed, as much as the woman would allow herself to, anyway. "Look at the big brain on Yennefer," she remarked in awe, prompting an eye roll, "these will make matters easier by far. Though getting out was always going to be the biggest hurdle. I don't suppose you have any more of these lying around?"
Yennefer narrowed her eyes at the woman, "those aren't easy to make, you know. No, I don't have any lying around," she spat.
"Pity," Philippa drawled, "I doubt it will be safe enough to portal us out of there either. I'm not worried about it. If we get inside, we can get back out, and I'll obliterate anyone who tries to stop us."
Yennefer ignored the urge to point out that this was the prison where they held beings like them. Maybe not exactly like them, none quite so powerful, but they had the training and weaponry to take on magical beings, and Yen was sure there was no bounty higher than Philippa's.
Throughout the rest of the evening they poured over the maps of Oxenfurt, the prison location, likely guard posts and routes, and the entrance along the riverbank. The prison itself was just around a kilometer away, they would have to go on foot from here.
Nightfall had finally arrive, and Yennefer's heart began to thrum at the prospect of looming danger. It reminded her of being on top of Kaer Morhen, her arms reaching to the sky as the Wild Hunt rained down upon them. Her magic had never felt so draining, so powerful, not since Sodden Hill. It ached her bones and squeezed at her organs but she admittedly never felt more alive.
And while she planned on exerting no such energy tonight, it felt strangely nostalgic to be in on another plan of attack.
Philippa at least had the curtesy to teleport them to the bottom of the cliff, and they began to trudge through the shrubbery towards the river.
"Any plan if things go south in there?" Yennefer asked as she ducked under a branch. They had reached the waters edge, the surface shining as it did before. Glancing around she saw not a movement in sight, and continued in the direction of the prison.
"If things go south, we're all dead. I don't intend on giving Radovid the satisfaction."
"You're insufferably confident, as always."
"It's got me where I am today. I would say I'm doing something right."
"I still think you're overestimating your vagrant and underestimating your enemy. I have a feeling you're leading me into a death trap." Yennefer sighed, her feet softly squishing into the damp sand.
"And yet you're still here, so you must have some belief in my cause," Philippa said evenly.
Yennefer couldn't help the glare she shot into the back of her head, "I have no belief in any cause of yours, Phil. I'm trying to do the right thing."
Philippa snorted, "I didn't receive news of your newly thawed heart, Yennefer. There is no right and wrong, only survival, and the survival of the Lodge will always be my priority. Since you're feeling so sentimental now, perhaps you can patch things up with your witcher-"
"-I have no desire to speak on this," Yennefer cut her off, "that part of my life is over. I'm here to help you with your suicide mission and get the hell back to Vengerberg."
"Yes, it always was a rather touchy subject, wasn't it? Have you seen Cirilla since White Orchard?"
Yennefer felt her stomach knot up at Phiippa's mention of her daughter. It was no secret that Philippa practically drooled at the prospect of having a child of the elder blood as a member, she had already tried to sway her in Novigrad. But Ciri had made her proud, standing up to the sorceress the way she did.
"She has written," Yennefer said carefully, "but she is on the Path now. It's where she belongs, where she's happy."
"Yes, I'm sure she is."
She was glad when the conversation died down after that. She wasn't comfortable discussing Ciri with the woman. In fact, there wasn't much she was comfortable with sharing. Philippa was just the type to probe, to see what she could get out of people. Yennefer knew better than to give her the satisfaction.
Thankfully, they had reached the sewer, jutting out of the side of the hill and into the river. The grate was already missing, probably due to the vagrant that had escaped. Philippa watched her from the corner of her eye.
"This passage should lead straight to the prison. The only problem being, I'm not sure where inside. We will have to figure that one out ourselves. There could be some drowners along the way, but nothing overly impeding. Are you ready?"
Yennefer couldn't help her look of disgust as she peered into the dark sewer, listening to the echoes of sludge drip from the ceiling.
She suddenly heard a small commotion beside her, a buzz, and she turned to Philippa with her mouth agape, "don't you dare-"
With a flash of light Philippa was already flying off in owl form, down the cavernous sewer, the sound of her wings all that was left of her.
"Stupid bloody bird," Yennefer mumbled to herself, as she took her first step into the muck below.