Chapter 1: Memories
Chapter Text
The Valley of Flowers, known as Dol Blathanna in the language of the elves, fully lived up to its name at this time of year. The meadows resembled a green patchwork quilt dotted with purple clover, white daisies, and lilac forget-me-nots. However, their beauty was eclipsed by a single "Daisy" in the shade of a lone birch tree on a hillock — a woman named Francesca Findabair. This nickname was well deserved, for compared to all the other women on the continent, she resembled a capricious, bright flower brought from afar ans planted in a flowerbed, in contrast to bouquets of simple bluebells.
But neither her lovely, sweet face nor the dark blond hair that fell onto her dress could soften the harsh, almost cruel coldness of her azure eyes. The tall, slender elf gazed with a keen, calculating eye at her domain — a kingdom that had come to her at the cost of betrayal and plenty of blood on her hands.
Not long ago, the emperor from the south had crushed the resistance of the local feudal lords, seized these lands, and immediately ceded the Valley of Flowers to Francesca. He could be sure of her loyalty, because he knew how much the sorceress wanted to take hold of this quiet haven for her elven people, which she would never have been able to get from the northern rulers. He knew, and therefore set his price for their deal...
"How long are you going to admire the view?" Francesca Findabair asked, turning her head toward another elf standing a little lower on the hillside. "Or is it not the landscape that interests you so much?"
Without making a sound, he climbed up the hill and bowed to the ground, as was proper before a monarch, his long hair falling from his temples, revealing sharp ears like hers. Only the grace inherent in all pure-blooded elves allowed him to hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. Francesca knew the effect her appearance had on men and preferred to remind him immediately that there was no time for nonsense.
"The elves are returning from the mountains, where they had previously hidden from humans, Your Majesty. We are counting them meticulously, but we have only managed to find a few dozen pairs of reproductive age. Even if we assume that all of them will soon engage in procreation," said the advisor and paused briefly. "Every one counts now. Perhaps we should urgently summon the Scoia'tael here and end their guerrilla war. After all, they have already succeeded. We have a new home.
The sorceress waved her hand imperiously.
"Our mission now is to revive the culture of our people. To lay down our swords and take up spindles, bricks, and books. Those who have long been accustomed to living by robbery and murder will not help us in this," queen of Dol Blathanna said cynically.
The corners of her pretty mouth were turned down in a menacing expression, and her eyes flashed like steel.
"It is you who want to condemn them to survival instead of life, Your Majesty," the advisor objected quietly.
Francesca narrowed her eyes. Then she exhaled heavily and looked again at the virgin, untouched nature of the land.
Now there was a new sadness and thoughtfulness in her gaze. The fact was that, no matter how much she wanted to see all the pure-blooded elves home right now, the emperor of the south himself insisted on continuing the guerrilla raids of the Scoia'tael, who were avenging for years of oppression by humans. He needed a tactical advantage. Before, the sorceress would have made such a small sacrifice for the future of an entire people without hesitation, but now that she was not just a sorceress in pursuit of influence, but a queen, the fate of all her subjects rested on her shoulders. Her thoughts involuntarily turned to the person who could fully understand the weight of her burden if she were now by her side. Francesca remembered Tissaia de Vries, her old friend. In fact, more than a friend.
They grew closer while working together on the mystery of the Elder Blood, trying to find the genes for unique magical talent that had been passed down from the elves to the human dynasty. Of course, Francesca, being a noble elf and having access to the knowledge of her ancestors, participated in the research and provided invaluable information to the other sorceresses.
Tissaya de Vrie was one of the most educated and powerful magicians of her time. As the rector of the magic academy, she possessed enormous erudition and extensive interdisciplinary knowledge, which found application in their unprecedented undertaking. Tissaia immediately impressed Francesca with her maturity and demeanor. In fact, despite her apparent youth, common to all magic users, this woman had managed to train and nurture more than one generation of students. Francesca, thanks to the natural longevity of her people, was also much older than she appeared.
Long story short, the two women hit it off quite quickly and began to socialize outside of work. In their conversations, they touched on their views on life and politics, which, as it turned out, differed. Taught by her father and the bitter experience of oppressed elves, Francesca believed in strength and that prosperity comes to those who are determined enough to get it. Tissaia, on the other hand, surprised her with her broad-mindedness. The sorceress was firmly convinced that everyone in the world deserved their place under the sun, and that her duty as a possessor of magical power was to bring light to all peoples, without taking sides, remaining neutral.
Their arguments lasted for hours, but (as was often the case in the relationship between these two races) the human woman was the first to sense the electric tension lurking beneath the surface of seemingly dividing them sea of irresolvable contradictions. Tissaia was distinguished by a truly fanatical perfectionism, which partly explained her success in the field of scholarship. That is why she quickly became interested in Francesca's perfect, flawless beauty. It all began with innocent gestures, which the elf, sexually passive by nature, did not attach any importance to at first: stroking her dark golden hair, small touches on her shoulders, and her slender figure under her green dress... No matter how inexperienced Francesca was in such matters, she could not help but notice the insistent glances her companion was giving her. And, noticing this, she herself caught Tissaia's hand, which was once again reaching for her body, and placed it where bare skin was visible from under her clothes. By that moment, the human magician had already won her interest.
Despite her fresh, youthful skin and generally pleasant appearance, Tissaia de Vries was inferior to many of their sorceress friends in charm and self-presentation. The sharp features of her face were only emphasized by her strict hairstyles and restrained makeup. She made up for her visible shortcomings with persistence and ardor that one would not expect from the always reserved and dignified archmagister of magic. Francesca was amused and fascinated by this change when, hidden from others eyes and alone with her, Tissaia impatiently was pulling down her dress to free her slender, beautiful body and press herself against her. They were both quite tall women, so the magician could kiss Francesca, with her impressive height, common among her people, without standing on tiptoe, and she took advantage of this, pinning her somewhere in a corner and not letting her get away.
"Someone might come in," said the elf, her stunning snow-white smile betraying her own excitement.
"I've cast a spell. They won't get anywhere near," replied her friend, eagerly exploring every curve in front of her with her hands, her fingers feeling the firm ribs and pelvic bones protruding slightly under her palms, tracing the soft flat belly in a circle with her fingertips.
"That's exactly how they'll suspect something's wrong," Francesca laughed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and burying her nose in the archmage's neck, succumbing to her assertiveness.
The elf was intoxicated by the scent of ambergris emanating from her: perhaps Tissaia did know something about seduction after all. Francesca remembered forever the first time she felt the softness of her moist lips. At that moment, all disagreements were forgotten, and only the desire remained, an incessant high-pitched cry somewhere in her consciousness, crowding out all other thoughts. She couldn't say then that she had fallen in love with that person, but she had definitely fallen in love with the taste of Tissaia's tongue, with the hands that groped her buttocks, with the breath that mingled with hers, with the eyes that looked deep into hers, with the pleasant scent that made her relax and forget where she was.
Now, many years later, Francesca Findabair once again wished that Tissaia de Vries was standing next to her. The elven queen wanted the human sorceress to tell her how to bear such a huge burden of responsibility, how to make everyone happy and remain neutral, without taking sides. And she dreamed of being embraced by those arms again, of feeling the warmth of another's body seeping through the fabric of her clothes, leaving no room for worries and stress. All these dreams were in vain. Tissaia de Vries had taken her own life less than a month ago.
Chapter 2: Guest in the Night
Chapter Text
The assembly hall was noisy. The elves sat at table, all of them tall and stately. It was impossible to tell at first glance which of them were older and which were younger, but a keen eye would notice the difference in their manner of dress, recognizable elements of a more ancient costume that the older generation still remembered and wore.
The longevity of the elves played in their favor this time. When the call went out for all the oldest representatives of the Aen Siedhe, who still preserved their culture, to return from their hiding places, those who had long passed the age of a hundred arrived at the court. However, even among them, many had already forgotten how their fathers and grandfathers, mothers and grandmothers had lived before humans suppressed their last uprising and drove the remnants of the elves to the East. Therefore, right now, in front of Francesca, who was sitting on the throne, there was an argument at the table.
"The elves need to eat something in the coming years," said one of the men gathered, jumping up from his seat for greater effect and towering over the others. "We cannot wait for the day when they all learn to survive by hunting and gathering again. It will take years at best, even if we..."
"But that's our culture! Our identity. We cannot live like the d'hoine, the humans who have trampled us into the mud for so many years. We definitely cannot. Otherwise, we will cease to be considered elves."
"Sit down," queen Francesca ordered, raising her hand and calling for order.
The elves obediently took their seats, but the arguments continued.
"Even if we want to sow the fields, it has to be done in the spring," said another member of the council.
"We can still plant winter seeds," objected an elf, one of the few women present.
She had been invited as an expert in human affairs because she had long ago found a husband among the people of Dol Blathanna.
"I have heard your points, ladies and gentlemen," said Francesca, rising from her chair on the dais, and the assembled crowd stood up in unison as a sign of respect. "This issue is too complex to make a clear-cut decision. I will give it a thorough thought at my leisure. Until then, attend to more pressing matters. You know what they are. You are all dismissed."
As the elves left the assembly hall, Francesca Findabair remained standing motionless. Deep bags were visible under her eyes, but even they seemed charming on the queen's perfect face. The sorceress could not sleep at night, full of anxiety. Everything demanded her attention, and difficult choices awaited her everywhere. As it turned out, living in the bosom of nature, like their ancestors, was not so easy. The elves needed to learn and organize their work properly in conditions of labor shortage. Could she hope for a favorable outcome, or should she have had them started working in the fields as soon as possible? For now, they were essentially just taking grain away from the people who remained in the Valley of Flowers, but that couldn't go on forever.
That night, Francesca was once again unable to sleep due to her heavy thoughts and sat down at the table to read reports by candlelight, hoping to pass the time until morning, when fatigue would knock her off her feet. Suddenly, the flickering flame went out, leaving only light curls of smoke behind. The window swung open, casting a shadow on the wall in the dim light emitting from its frame. Francesca turned and saw... No, it couldn't be. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't imagining things, but the translucent figure hadn't disappeared. Tissaia de Vries stood there, radiating a ghostly glow, exactly as she had been during their last meeting, except for her hands. Distinct dark lines traced her wrists.
"Franci," Tissaia said in her usual stern voice, the one she used when lecturing. "I could expect this from Philippa, but you? Got into politics? Became nothing less than a queen?
"Tis... Tissa? You... I... You were..."
Francesca Findabair was seriously frightened and turned pale as a ghost. Even though she was a sorceress, encountering the supernatural had no less of an effect on her than it would on any other woman. Tissaia smiled in response and laughed heartily.
"Well, I couldn't just leave this life without thanking you for your kindness."
"Me? For... For what?" the elf asked, confused.
She couldn't believe she was talking to a ghost, but there was nothing else she could do. The apparition had no intention of leaving and, on the contrary, was persistently engaging in conversation.
"What do you mean, 'why'?" The transparent figure shook her head and took a few steps deeper into the room. "For saving my favorite student, Yennefer. She's still with you, in this very room. Waiting for you to remove the spell from her. Oh, she won't be happy with you after decompression."
The ghost's smile was so contagious that Francesca smiled back, even though her heart still was skipping a beat after another at the sight of the familiar figure. She leaned forward and mechanically touched the hand that glowed faintly in the darkness. She was greeted by the familiar warmth of skin beneath her fingers.
"Tissa," the elf said, looking at her. "You have no idea how much I miss you now. Even though we haven't really been together for a long time... I thought about you. Why did you... why did you decide..."
Tissaia covered her hand with her own.
"I couldn't live peacefully knowing how I had let down the people who relied on me. How we all let them down. Magic should not take sides. It serves people. I hammered this into my students' heads for decades, wrote abstruse treatises, and what was the result? It's all a dust," her eyes flashed with fire. "Have you forgotten the battle on Sodden Hill? How we all stood there and defended our home? Why did you decide to be the first to shed blood?"
"Because I'm defending my home too," Francesca replied.
The sorceress did not immediately notice the tears running down her cheeks. Tissaia immediately softened, gently wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. Then she leaned down to kiss the elf on the forehead.
"Now, now. What's this? Such a grown woman crying her eyes out. You've completely forgotten that you have your own needs and that sometimes you also need to relax. Your emotions are running high, and you're going to become histerical in front of your subjects at this rate. Let's take care of you together."
Francesca looked up at her and felt a soft touch on her cheek. Closing her eyes, the elf felt Tissaia's lips descend to hers and willingly pressed against them with a quiet smooching sound. The sorceress smelled a familiar scent, felt the warmth she had been missing so much, and was finally able to forget all her worries for a moment. Her friend pulled her onto the bed, but this time it was Francesca who sought her out in the darkness of the bedroom. She undressed the magician herself, showering every inch of skin freed from clothing with kisses, while she wrapped her legs around her, pressing her heels into her back as if refusing to let go. The elf tried to make out the face she adored, to remember every feature of it again.
"You are still as beautiful as ever," said Tissaia, placing her hand on her cheek and gently stroking it with her thumb. "It makes me jealous."
"In vain. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I want to see your face much more than anyone else's."
Tissaia pressed her hands on the back of her head, combing through her long golden hair, and pulled her impossibly close on the bed, merging with her in a kiss, their body curves fitting together as if perfectly adjusted for it by the hand of an unknown master. Wriggling and squirming, Francesca struggled to slide her hand between them, pushing Tissaia's thigh aside and finding the right spot under the dark patch of hair with her thumb, eliciting a sweet sigh from her lover.
"Hnn... Oh, is that how you...? Well, just you wait..."
The elf felt the touch on her own clitoris and sighed too, feeling the crease of each phalanx on Tissa's finger. But she didn't stop there, carefully pushing two of her fingers inside at once. The next moment, Francesca gasped, opening her mouth wide, because she felt a shock, not imaginary, but very real. Someone else might have overdone the spell, but the archmagister of magic knew what she was doing, creating a tingling sensation that did not burn but tickled the elf's sensitive vaginal entrance unbearably.
Francesca, not willing to give up without a fight, continued to rub her friend's clitoris with two fingers, and together they quickly brought each other to a dizzying finale.
"Tissa!" the elf cried, forgetting everything, not thinking about who might hear her. "I love you! Stay with me!"
"Shh..." the sorceress whispered in her ear, then bit it passionately, so that it even hurt. "I'll be here as long as I need to be. After all, how can a queen take care of her subjects if no one takes care of her?"
They didn't let go of each other until dawn. The sky was brightening as they continued to kiss, embracing each other and intertwining their fingers. The morning light dispelled the darkness, and Francesca sat back, looking at the empty bed and crumpled sheets, where it was impossible to make out any clear outlines pressed into them. She didn't know if she had imagined it all or not, but it seemed completely unimportant. The elf felt a long-awaited satisfaction, new strength in her body, even though she hadn't slept a wink all night.
Lighting a candle, she began to write a decree that would oblige the elves to learn from humans how to sow and reap. In the fall and winter, they could try to bring back the traditional livelihood of the inhabitants of Dol Blathanna, but while it was still summer, they needed to start plowing as soon as possible so as not to go hungry the following year.
Francesca knew that many difficulties and hardships lay ahead, but now she could cope with whatever fate had in store for her. After all, she knew she was no longer alone.