And now you can all see exactly what's inspired me for the last few months!!!! This insanely gorgeous work for @beyondthecontinent! My fic details and link below:
the sleeping language of my heart
9k, rated E, focused on Yentriss and Triss specifically. Please mind the tags and content warnings on ao3.
summary: When Triss Merigold learns her closest friend Yennefer of Vengerberg is living with a witcher and hasn’t told her, she fears for her friend and decides to go investigate. But what she finds in their apartment in Novigrad forces Triss to realize her feelings for Yenna run far deeper than she's let herself believe— and always have.
Standing before her like this after so many years, her eyes tracing up the mage’s simple but fine violet robes that hang loosely from her shoulders… of course Triss didn’t expect Yenna to have so much as an eyelash’s difference. She didn’t expect her to be so… glowing. If she’d thought about it, it would be natural to find her so casually regal, here in her own space, in the blissful state of total command.
But Triss wasn’t really thinking.
And so any previous thought that the witcher Geralt was somehow keeping her here under duress, or an enchantment, seemed a silly and frankly insulting figment of her fear. Compounded, in fact, as she noticed Geralt move, glanced at him, and saw how very deeply besotted he was with Yenna. The man practically looked bespelled himself, and willingly.
Yenna said something, and then Triss knew she said something, and then Geralt made a remark and Triss watched Yenna’s full lips smirk, and suddenly she was being swept up in a hug, Yenna’s soft hair grazing her cheek as she was held tightly for a moment in those small, strong arms, the heat of her body pressed against Triss’s bodice.
And suddenly Triss let out a giggle, a real one, like she hadn’t in years. Yenna released her, smiling as she gazed into her eyes. She found herself nervously toying with her sleeve. Barely breathing.
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