#happy means without vilgefortz

[hanzajesthanza]

Emhyr for the character bingo ask! I don't think you ever talked about him (or I missed some posts?) so I'm curious what do you think about him.

alright time to do this character bingo that i reblogged and forgot about for two weeks

i summarized most of my thoughts about emhyr in this post from almost a year ago and i still agree with most of those thoughts. his story is really just so dark and i think he embodies a real kind of hopelessness for both himself and everyone who comes into contact with him.

everyone else is wrong about him - fans seem to love to try to redeem him or find some 'happy ever after' with him, i feel like the essence of his character is inherently opposed to that. even the 'glimmer of hope' at the end in the form of false ciri - even if you interpret it that she and he lived a happy life together, and that through her he came to terms with his sins towards ciri and pavetta - that heals nothing for anyone except him. i really don't see him turning any corners and becoming any kind of "good person," i think what's left for his character is to meditate on what he planned and how he chased it for all of those years and what he willingly sacrificed in the process.

bastard - not said affectionately.

no. - he is probably the best example of the phrase, "sick!" said with a contemptuous and disgusted glare. i don't particularly "enjoy" talking about his character simply for reason of the subject matter. especially taking into consideration that vilgefortz approached him with the crucial information shortly after ciri was born, so emhyr committed to these plans before ciri was probably even walking and talking. i don't know how one can look at their own daughter and plan that.

not for me but i can see the appeal - he's entirely twisted, but not unhinged one bit. by the time of the saga, he seems entirely in control of his emotions and his manner is just cold authority. it's a vile mind, with tragic outcomes, but like a serial killer's, something to dissect. i also think he's very interesting when compare-contrasted with geralt, because geralt sacrificed all of his power to protect his daughter ciri, whereas emhyr would have done the opposite in sacrificing ciri for all power. to his own flesh and blood! it's one of the ending 'guns' which hit the hardest about the witcher.

this exchange between geralt and he really summarized it all:

‘(...) Now you have her, you have Ciri, your own daughter, whom you once basely deprived of parents, and with whom you now mean to vilely beget incestuous children. Without demanding love. Rightly, as a matter of fact. You do not deserve her love. Just between us, Duny, I don’t know how you will manage to look her in the eyes.’ ‘The end justifies the means,’ Emhyr said dully. ‘What I’m doing, I’m doing for posterity. To save the world.’ ‘If the world is to be saved like that—’ the Witcher lifted his head ‘—it would be better for it to perish. Believe me, Duny, it’d be better if it perished.’

i also always think of this quote from geralt when thinking about emhyr's character:

‘(...) Evil has stopped being chaotic. It has stopped being a blind and impetuous force, against which a witcher, a mutant as murderous and chaotic as Evil itself, had to act. Today Evil acts according to rights–because it is entitled to. It acts according to peace treaties, because it was taken into consideration when the treaties were being written...’

character bingo

send an ask

[vanbredevoort]

for @viilgefortz ha ha HAsuffer.

"All of this area"

"All of it? You mean all of it?"

"Yes", the woman did not like repeating herself, "It's been going on for years and it's only getting stronger."

Lydia did the math quickly inside her mind. It was a perfect circle drawn in the map in front of her. They had to be wrong in their calculations. No curse was that big and expanding if not subjected to constant feeding-- wars, a graveyard, a tragedy (it had to be a HUGE tragedy). In fact, no curse expanded that much. Ever.

"Have you found out what is fueling it? Remains, crystals, jewerly...?", she asked.

"We have not been able to get that close to the center", the woman pointed at the middle of the circle, "Everything just... perishes inside."

"Everything?", Lydia asked, incredulous again, "And no one has any theories?"

"Not like the ones you sent on your letter. Look, few people understood curses like Lady van Bredevoort did. But your analysis--- it reminded us of her unique approach to curses. In her last book--"

"The Natural Obscurity of Curses. Yes, I've read it"

I wrote it.

"She speaks of preventing curses, how to act when they're there, but this one--- It's already beyond preventing and beyond acting. It's massive, it's expanding, and it's completely out of our hands. And you seem to understand them. Like Lydia did."

She had to muffle a giggle. After all, he was there, laying against a wall, and she could feel his smirk even without seeing it.

"I cannot promise anything, as I told you in my letter. But I can check it."

The woman smiled, and her brown eyes scanned Vilgefortz in a way that had Lydia raising an eyebrow.

"Is he coming with us?"

She did not like her tone. She did not like her smirk.

"Yes, my HUSBAND is coming with me."

Without another word, still carrying a stern look, Lydia guided the woman outside. The manor was protected against magic, so a portal would be unstable and dangerous unless placed outside. Once they were at a safe distance, the woman concentrated and created a portal. Vilgefortz stepped in first and when the woman tried to follow, Lydia placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't even---"

"I understood that the first time. Husband. I get it", she said. She did not like repeating herself.

"Oh, he's more than that. And he's mine"

"I already told you I get it, no ne---"

"You actually don't."

With a fake smile, Lydia stepped into the portal.

She did not recognize the place, but it was an abandoned tavern somewhere in Redania, if she trusted the woman’s map. Lydia waltzed up to Vilgefortz and entwined their fingers. Immediately she felt shivers and bolts of static running down her spine. The lady had clearly followed them but Lydia did not notice. Ten years of a new life, eight years of a life of happiness where his touch always reduced the world to HIM. Just him. His touch. His essence.

"As I told you before, it's expanding, so this is as far as I'm willing to take you with a portal", she said, and Lydia - begrudgingly - had to take her eyes off Vilgefortz. It made her shiver in disgust. "It's an hour walk away from here. Good luck, I guess— and thank you.”

Yet it took them more than an hour to walk there. After all, Lydia had a fit of jealousy to get out of her system. The rain that constantly fell on top of them did not stop her, or her promises of not being exactly done with the fit, with the cries of him being hers that at some point, became screams of her being his'.

They found shelter under a tree as they reached the limits of the expanding curse, her back pressed to Vilgefortz's front, an arm laced around his neck. His embrace was a double edged sword, for it brought clarity to her thoughts and fogginess depending on his actions. After recieving various threats to stop her squirming, she allowed her mind to focus entirely on the academics. Her whole posture changed when she entered that state of concentration.

"Air seems clear. The temperature feels colder", Lydia whispered, following the standard procedure, "The ground seems cracked and lacks nutrients. Dead animals, bones already, even when we're just at the curse's edge... It either affects the passage of time or kills too quickly. Wraiths?"

"None that I can sense"

"Then none", she said, without questioning or second thoughts, "Necrofages?"

"None as well. You knew that already."

"I figured as much but I needed the confirmation", she smiled. Lydia liked it when he read her flawlessly, and when he trusted her knowledge, and he had done both in one sentence, "I also like hearing your voice. What do you sense?"

"... Something I don't like."

That was worrying. No explanation, no arguments. And he was always right.

"... Do you think---?"

He nodded.

"It's...? It is! It's a first degree curse! I've read about them, of course, but I've never seen one! This is--- you're frowining, Vilgefortz"

"I don't like it."

"Vil, I will not put myself in harm's way. I promised that eight years ago and I am a woman of my word. But this could be a second or most likely a first degree curse--- and I have you"

Tugging at his clothes she pulled him closer, locking him into a kiss that tasted of pure devotion, one that surpasses the limits of what she can do with her body but has no other manner to convey. Soon her arms were around his neck, her hands pulled at his hair and if not for his own hands pushing her away softly, she would have spiralled deeper into the fire that did not diminish with the years but only grew. So, so much.

"Expanding curse, Lydia. Expanding."

She was tempted to pout, to somehow trick him into a kiss again, but something pulled her out of her fantasies.

"... I can hear something"

"I've been hearing it since we got there"

"... Screaming?"

He frowned again. He had not been able to pinpoint the nature of the sound, that just rang inside his ears painfully. But it was, as she said, a scream. A piercing scream that spoke of a pain no living creature could mimic, yet somehow familiar. The fact that Lydia, human Lydia, deprived from magic and means to analyze, had so easily named it—- it only added to his uneasiness.

"I don't like this, Lydia. I don't like this near you"

"Please?"

"You don't touch it. The moment I see it's getting closer---"

"We leave", she said, turning around again. "Will you hold me, Sir?"

He wrapped his arms around her again, from behind. His muscles were tense. She had no time to revell on his overprotectiveness, because something called-- over and over... her hands stretched and, against everything, touched the edge.

There was a spiral. There was darkness. There was cold.

She was suddenly alone in a throne room. There was a seat in the middle of it, empty, and a shadow laying just under it, and it seemed broken. Something like tendrils extended from the shadow, wrapping around the pilars and broken stones. She hated it, for some reason. Lydia’s eyes scanned the room diligently. The place had remarkable detail and only a powerful curse could summon her mind into an entire different reality.

It was beyond the first degree. It was something that books haven’t spoke about yet. It was fascinating--- And she had to get out. Quickly. She had to go back to Vilgefortz, focus on his warmth, on his arms wrapped around her, on his beating heart, but surrounding her there was only cold.

‘He's dead, darling’

The shadow spoke, but she wasn’t in the throne room anymore. A city. A study. A castle. And the voice, the cold voice of Philippa Eilhart. Then a laboratory, then elven ruins. Finally, a hallway. Thanedd.

“No…”

A pool of blood lay at her feet.

‘Yes. You.’ someone replied, a familiar voice, 'You. You looked at him while you STABBED your heart. You. You wanted him to be the last thing you saw. You. You died with his name stuck in your throat. You, you, you.'

With another pull she was standing in a place she immediately, far too quickly recognized as Strygga.

She was suddenly kneeling on the floor. Her eyes were open with inhuman strength, held by powerful forces, forcing her to look at a fight without the benefit of blinking. She did not want to, but she couldn't stop it. A sihil shined, reflecting the light from the moon. The metal slashed Vilgefortz's abdomen.

There was a ringing sound, so piercing she wanted to pass out only to stop hearing it. She wanted to gouge her own eyes off their sockets. She wanted to rip off her own skin. She wanted the sound to stop.

She knew what was next. The blade made a diagonigal cut, from his torso to his collarbone. He looked up. At her. The floor was painted red with his blood.

Why wouldn’t the ringing sound stop? She was dizzy and she was praying for death.

Lydia thought she would feel it too. That when the sihil slashed, she would feel the pain as if it was her own. It took her a few heartbeats to realise that would have been an escape. A way to suffer with him, and not just bearing witness to his demise, forced to drink it all in without the comfort of sharing the agony. In terms of torture, it was perfection. Meticulous. Measured to preciseness.

Suddenly, between her bent knees lay a head. His head. Trembling hands held it. Lifeless. White mismatched eyes, rolled to the back. Bloodied. Painful. Disfigured. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The sound did not stop. It took her an hour like that to realise that it was screaming— and that it was her own. An hour spent cradling a decapitated head against her own chest, back arched as if protecting it, or scared it would be taken away. An hour screaming. Uninterrupted, unparalleled screaming.

She did not move. She did not squirm away from the agony. She drank it all. She screamed.

An hour to hold what was once beautiful— her love for him. An hour to stain her white dress with blood, to look at his lifeless expression, allowing the stench of death to sink into her skin, her bones, her will to live.

Her love. Her master. Her patron. Her sun. Her king.

HE'S DEAD. HE'S DEAD. I LOVE HIM, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND HE'S DEAD. THEY TOOK HIM FROM ME. THEY KILLED HIM.

Dead, dead, dead in her arms. A head. An hour.

DEAD. HE IS DEAD. MY LOVE IS DEAD.

Suddenly she was back in the throne room. There was no blood of his own, no head on her lap. Yet red still stained the floor— because her arms bled, and she wondered why. Looking down, she saw she had been digging her own nails into her skin. She could see the muscle. The tendons. If the sight scared her, she did not show it.

Because she wasn't screaming anymore. Because there was nothing inside of her anymore.

‘You killed him. You were his undoing. It is your fault. You orchestated his demise. You.’

She materialized in front of her.

It was herself. The shadow sitting under the throne, whatever it was, looked like her. While she wore white, the shadow wore black. While her hair was braided, her shadow wore it lose, and it extended over the whole throne room, wrapped around the pillars, escaped through the windows. The hair dragged itself across the stairs as she walked. She was pale, she was beautiful, she was the night. An eternal night. She was the moon, like ancient legends, looking for the bits and pieces of her love. She was gorgeous. And she was nothing.

She thought she replied that she didn't. She was sure the words she said were about her love, her sacrifice, her need to be useful. That she didn’t mean for it to end that way.

But "Yes. Yes. I killed him. I did kill him” were the words that she actually muttered.

'Does not knowing serve as justification?'

She thought she said it did. She had no way of knowing-- Everyone thought her a person of no importance. Her death had to be nothing of true meaning. She had a job to do, and she was to do it to perfection. He deserved nothing less than absolute perfection.

"It doesn't, no. I should have known I was important to him. Not knowing does not justify my actions."

'You killed him'

"Yes. I killed him"

'You killed him.'

"I killed him."

'Say it again.' his voice!

"I killed you."

'Again, DOLL. Again.'

"I killed you."

She did not realise when the throne room became a laboratory. Her body lay on a stone slab, naked, unblemished until a dagger pierced it.

"He's dead, my darling. Dead. You threw away your life for nothing", Philippa said.

How could a human cry like that? How could a body as small and fragile as hers scream like that? How could a heart so wounded, stabbed TWICE, condemned to what she thought unrequited feelings love that much?

"Yes. I killed him."

A baby cries. Birds fly out of their nests, terrified. An elf squints at the moon, restless. A old woman slicing an apple sheds a tear. A scholar drops an antique book as a spasm of agony took over him. A blacksmith in Skellige screams to the top of her lungs. They all wonder why.

Silence. Darkness.

‘You should be dead.’

“I should be dead.”

'You do not deserve anything'

"I don't deserve anything"

'He's the sun'

"I'm just the moon"

'The moon shines,'

"Because it reflects the sun"

'Without the sun...'

"Nothing can live. Nothing should live."

Her hands were stained with his blood again. She knew it was his’, she didn’t need the confirmation. She stared at them for a while. Her eyes were usually expressive--- weren't they? Then why, why did they show nothing?

'If he's gone...'

"... Then everything should perish"

.

Vilgefortz felt the curse like tendrils extending towards Lydia, calling for her. His mind worked like clockwork, step by step. This was Redania. This was where Philippa's laboratory was. This is where Lydia had been brought back from the dead. This was the place she was told he died.

It took him less than a second to understand this was Lydia's curse.

This was her affection turned into agony. This was her devotion, turned into despair. Her love for him turned into hatred for herself. And he knew-- there was so much love.

He pulled her back immediately, at inhuman speed. He held her with one arm around her waist, while the other touched her face-- the face of a woman who looked lifeless. Who shed tears of blood that stained the pale skin, paler than usual. Eyes open but vacant. Lips parted but silent. Mind open, but empty. The rain did not stop. The feeling of life being drained didn’t either.

A pain so big. A curse so powerful. A hatred so hungry. A love so strong.

And he just fucking handed her to it.

"Lydia"

Not again.

The curse had merely grazed her. Not even a full second had passed.

"LYDIA!"

he should have known. he should have known, he should have known! he had heard that same scream, after all, a decade before!

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

The Witcher S3 Ep5: The Art of the Illusion AKA The Song Gets Catchier on Each Loop

There was a lot going on this episode. And I really like the technique of telling it in bits and repeating the events with a different focus each time. I think it was great narratively and let a lot of scheming and learning things happen without being straight info-dump. Keeps everyone on their toes.

Commenting on the music, which was almost definitely intentionally (given the appropriateness of the lyrics) kept in focus each time, feels like the only non-spoiler-y thing I can do.

Hello 👀 Geralt looks good in this formal wear, and bedroom eyes. And Yen is of course gorgeous as always

Yen's eye/contact weirdness seems to only be for this event, so I'm going to tell myself it was on purpose

Radcliffe the Obnoxious is my new favorite character

I don't think Riende was that disasterous. The manor falling down wasn't his fault

Fuck you Sabrina (but Yen she's no more "ludicriously" dressed than you are...)

Oh no. I like this song...I can't betray Jaskier by liking Valdo Marx's song! It is a bit "Valdo tried to copy Her Sweet Kiss" though

What is on your head Philippa?

I love that they're having sex and debriefing at the same time

Istredd is not allowed to be that hot

Also Geralt you're really bad at this political game

Is that...a magical barrier to force everyone on the dancefloor? Seems...excessive

Ok, Triss is Unrecognizable. I don't like it

The fuck? This has to be fake, right? Staged so no one thinks they're working together?

That wasn't quite an "I do trust you" and it concerns me

I really like Tissaia's dress. It reminds me of a peacock feather

That's not laying low to gather evidence for later Geralt. Maybe don't threaten the man right now

Triss...I'm disappointed in you. I know you fear what happened at Kaer Mohren but that is not a solution

Wait is he planning a frame job, or saying he's that important?

Because he's Racist. Get fucked Stregobitch.

That can't be a coincidence that that fell off now...and Geralt looks like he's suspicious of it too

Artorious. Don't crumble now...

Aww happy looks good on them

I almost want to trust Philippa. I don't know if that's a wrong choice though

I'm concerned about the weird portal looking ring over the castle. I think it's much less For Effect than it seemed at first

Ciri's only safe until dawn...it's nearly dawn now...

I mean, Stregobitch was also doing terrible things.

But damn, I did not expect the reveal that Vilgefortz is a villain to come for a while yet.

Distant sreams aren't good...

Fuck, Dijkstra

[gingersimasnaps]

Tissaia every time Vilgefortz speaks. Colorized.

[thegirl20]

WFF Prompt #5 - Power

From @bamf-jaskier‘s list of prompts.  

All filled prompts are on AO3.

She's in a Chapter meeting, half listening to Stregobor and Artorius argue about the budget for Ban Ard, when it happens.

It's slow at first, a swirling sensation in her chest.

And then it hits her like a punch to the gut.

Yennefer's magic has returned. Which means Yennefer is alive.

The relief that floods her chest is profound after months of waiting and wondering and worrying. She brings a shaking hand to her face to mask the tremble of her chin, her lips.

Vilgefortz leans close. "Are you alright?"

"Hmmm?" She glances at him, briefly. "Yes. Yes, quite alright. But I must go."

She stands, not waiting for Artorius to finish his rant. All eyes snap to her and she bows her head. "Please accept my apologies. I have business I must attend to elsewhere."

Without waiting to be dismissed, she sweeps out of the meeting chamber and into the corridor, hurrying back to her own study.

Tissaia? Vilgefortz' voice echoes in her head. What's happened? Do you want me to-

She closes her mind to his mental intrusion as she reaches her destination. Once inside the room, she throws up protective wards, guarding against prying eyes or those who would dare follow her via portal.

Once she's sure that the room is secure and that her actions are masked, she closes her eyes, allowing herself to hone in on the thread of Yennefer's chaos amid the tangle of other signatures she has detected and learned to identify over her long life.

Even amongst all those thousands, Yennefer's has always stood out for Tissaia, bright and vibrant and tinged with a violet hue. It is as familiar to her as her own chaos, and as she tugs on its thread now, it wraps around her heart like a cat happy to see its owner after a long absence.

She closes her eyes and allows herself a moment of emotion before she forces herself to concentrate on the location of the chaos. She lifts an eyebrow when she recognises the place. The old Witcher keep, deep in the Kaedweni mountains. She quickly calls on a portal and steps through, into a room that was probably thought of as a Great Hall at one time, but is now a wreck. There are dead men on the floor, injured ones stumbling around, and others standing in shocked silence.

But no sign of Yennefer.

A young man who is clearly not a Witcher approaches her, his hands raised in front of him in surrender.

"Ummm, hello, lady who just came out of nowh-"

She grabs the lapel of his burgundy coat, dragging him to her. "Where is Yennefer?"

He frowns. "You know Yennefer?" His face hardens. "Please tell me that you're not another ancient and vengeful spirit, intent on doing her harm," he says, then his eyes widen. "Not that I'm saying you look old, madam, because you are very beautif-"

"Where is she?" she demands. "I know she was here." A few of the Witchers approach from the sides, swords raised. She lifts her free hand, blue lightning crackles between her fingertips. "Stay where you are," she warns, turning her attention back to the now cowering man in her grip. "Tell me where she is."

"I don't know," he says, rushing to continue when he sees that this does not satisfy Tissaia. "She was here. She slit her wrists-"

"What?" Tissaia breathes.

"-something came out of Ciri and went into Yen," he continues, babbling now. "Ciri said some words, and a big-" He makes circles with his arms. "-swirly thing opened up and sucked Yen, Geralt and Ciri in and then closed."

She lets him go, stalking up to the remains of an ancient tree, sensing the power radiating from it. An old man approaches.

"Can you tell where they went?" he asks. She turns to him and sees her own loss mirrored in his eyes.

She turns back to the tree and closes her eyes. Once more, she seeks out Yennefer's chaos signature. It's distorted, but it's there. She concentrates on it, letting her own chaos pool in her belly, fuelling her for what is to come.

"They are not in this realm," she says, eyes still closed. "The portal they went through, it- it has taken them-"

"Can you get them back?" The old Witcher's voice breaks and Tissaia swallows.

She inhales slowly, then exhales, lifting her arms and calling on every ounce of chaos she can muster. Her lips start saying the necessary words, while she unfurls her hands from their clenched fists. She pulls Yennefer's chaos to the front of her mind, reaching out for it and grasping hold of it. With the tether in place, she thrusts her hands forward, ripping through time and space.

A drip of sweat runs down the length of her nose and hangs off the end, making it itch. A trickle of blood starts up from her left nostril. Her arms shake and her muscles scream with exertion, but she pays no heed to any of these bodily distractions. Her focus remains on getting to Yennefer.

With a final push, the resistance breaks and a space opens up, revealing a hellish plane, dusty and orange. Three figures stand out.

"Yennefer!"

Tissaia's not sure if she screamed the name out loud, or in her mind, but Yennefer's head whips around and they lock eyes.

"Tissaia?"

"I can't-" She closes her eyes when the opening tries to close over. "-hold it…much-"

She doesn't have to continue, because Yennefer has grabbed hold of the other two and is running towards her. All three stumble through just as Tissaia falls to her knees and the portal swirls to a close once more. She falls forward, only just managing to brace herself on her hands, and she fights the nausea rising up her throat.

A hand lands on her back, another on her shoulder.

"Tissaia," Yennefer says. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"With great difficulty," Tissaia murmurs, watching as blood drips onto the stone floor from her nose.

"Let me look at you," Yennefer says, supporting her arm and easing her into a seated position, leaning heavily against Yennefer's side. Concern is etched heavily into Yennefer's brow as she rubs a thumb below Tissaia's nose. A whispered word of Elder and the bleeding stops. Yennefer's lips flicker into a smile before her frown returns. "You could have killed yourself."

Tissaia lifts a hand to Yennefer's cheek, her arm shaking with even that gentle exertion. "Worth it," she whispers.

Yennefer's eyes fill with tears. She shakes her head, dislodging them. "You stupid old witch," she murmurs, dragging Tissaia into her arms and holding her. Tissaia sinks into the embrace, unable to do anything else. In truth, she doesn't want to do anything else. She turns her face into Yennefer's neck and inhales her familiar scent.

A throat clearing nearby forces them apart, though Yennefer keeps an arm around her shoulders as they look up to find the man from earlier, along with Geralt and the girl. Cirilla of Cintra, Tissaia reminds herself.

"Thank you," Geralt says, with a nod. "For bringing us back. I am in your debt."

Tissaia shakes her head. "No debt." She's sure the implication is clear; she didn't do it for him. Nor for the girl. She clears her throat, uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny while she is in such a state. She turns to Yennefer.

"Might I lie down for a short while?" she asks.

"You can use my room," Cirilla says. "It's the warmest one." She steps forward and she and Yennefer help Tissaia to her feet.

Tissaia offers her a smile. "Thank you, Princess."

"Ciri," she says. "Just Ciri." She steps away and Yennefer tightens her hold on Tissaia's elbow, taking most of her weight.

"I'm sorry I implied you might be a vengeful spirit before," Jaskier says. "It's been a strange day. I meant no offence."

"None was taken," Tissaia assures him.

He winks at Yennefer. "She's even scarier than you are."

"Where do you think I learned it?" Yennefer says, squeezing Tissaia's arm. "Now come on. You need rest."

Ciri leads them to her room and leaves them in private, closing the door behind her as Yennefer eases Tissaia down onto the narrow bed. Her muscles sing in relief, even though the surface isn't all that forgiving. She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. Yennefer sits down by her hip, taking one of her hands and holding it.

"How did you know?" Yennefer asks. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

Tissaia smiles, but doesn't open her eyes. "The law of averages?"

Yennefer clicks her tongue and nudges Tissaia's hip. "Now is not the time for you to start making jokes, Rectoress," she says. "How did you know?"

"I felt your magic return," Tissaia says, opening her eyes to look up at Yennefer. "I followed its signature, but by the time I got here, you were gone." She tightens the hold she has on Yennefer's hand. "I had to get you back."

"You saved me," Yennefer says. "Again."

"You saved yourself," Tissaia counters. "You regained your magic, which allowed me to find you." She shakes her head in wonder. "How? I didn't think it possible?"

Yennefer yawns. "I think that's a story for after we've both had a rest. I can't remember when I last stopped to draw breath, let alone slept." She nudges Tissaia. "Move over."

"This bed is far too small for two people," Tissaia protests, even as she moves as close to the wall as possible.

Yennefer wriggles into the small space she's created, draping half her body across Tissaia's and laying her head on her chest. Tissaia rests a hand on Yennefer's head, lightly stroking her hair. She smiles and closes her eyes, drifting off into the soundest sleep she's found since Sodden.

[bamf-jaskier]

Who the Fuck is Philippa Eilhart?

I don’t know if you’ve been following Witcher news lately but Philippa has just been cast!

Of course, many show-only fans might not be familiar with her character and game-only fans might not know how different her story is in the books, so I’m here to give a relatively brief overview of her plot line in the books. Warning: lots of book spoilers ahead as well as the standard graphic violence that is the norm in the books.

With that, Hi! I’m Aaliyah and this is Part 6 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subject from The Witcher books.

The first time we meet Philippa in Blood of Elves, she is an advisor to the King of Redania. Dandelion is brought before The Redanian Secret Service because they wish to know Geralt’s whereabouts. 

Excerpt:

Dandilion glanced at the fourth person present at the meeting, who until then had remained silent. Philippa Eilhart must have only recently arrived in Oxenfurt, or was perhaps intending to leave at once, since she wore neither a dress nor her favourite black agate jewellery nor any sharp make-up. 

She was wearing a man’s short jacket, leggings and high boots – a “field” outfit as the poet called it. The enchantress’s dark hair, usually loose and worn in a picturesque mess, was brushed smooth and tied back at the nape of her neck.

“Let’s not waste time,” she said, raising her even eyebrows. “Dandilion’s right. We can spare ourselves the rhetoric and slick eloquence which leads nowhere when the matter at hand is so simple and trivial.”

Here are some of Dandelion’s thoughts on Philippa:

Dandilion divided women – including magicians – into very likeable, likeable, unlikeable and very unlikeable. The very likeable reacted to the proposition of being bedded with joyful acquiescence, the likeable with a happy smile. The unlikeable reacted unpredictably. The very unlikeable were counted by the troubadour to be those to whom the very thought of presenting such a proposition made his back go strangely cold and his knees shake.

Philippa Eilhart, although very attractive, was decidedly very unlikeable. Apart from that, Philippa Eilhart was an important figure in the Council of Wizards, and King Vizimir’s trusted court magician. 

She was a very talented enchantress. Word had it that she was one of the few to have mastered the art of polymorphy. She looked thirty. In truth she was probably no less than three hundred years old.”

Then, Dandelion leaves to go back to Geralt and Philippa follows him in the form of an owl:

A big grey owl glided down to the sill without a sound. Shani cried out quietly. Geralt reached for his sword.

“Don’t be silly, Philippa,” said Dandilion.

The owl disappeared and Philippa Eilhart appeared in its place, squatting awkwardly. The magician immediately jumped into the room, smoothing down her hair and clothes.

“Good evening,” she said coldly. “Introduce me, Dandilion.”

“Geralt of Rivia. Shani of Medicine. And that owl which so craftily flew in my tracks is no owl. This is Philippa Eilhart from the Council of Wizards, at present in King Vizimir’s service and pride of the Tretogor court. It’s a shame we’ve only got one chair in here.”

Geralt is trying to hunt down a wizard, Rience, who is trying to get Ciri. When Geralt is about to kill Rience, Philippa lets Rience portal away and Geralt, Shani and Dandelion are quite upset:

“Philippa!” shouted Dandilion, still holding the weeping Shani. “Have you gone mad?”

“No,” said the witcher with some effort. “She’s quite sane. And knows perfectly well what she’s doing. She knew all along what she was doing. She took advantage of us. Betrayed us. Deceived—”

“Calm down,” repeated Philippa Eilhart. “You won’t understand and you don’t have to understand. I did what I had to do. And don’t call me a traitor. Because I did this precisely so as not to betray a cause which is greater than you can imagine. 

A great and important cause, so important that minor matters have to be sacrificed for it without second thoughts, if faced with such a choice. Geralt, damn it, we’re nattering and you’re standing in a pool of blood. Calm down and let Shani and me take care of you.”

Of course, this is all a part of Philippa’s larger plan to hold a coup and gain political power. Vilgefortz hired Rience and if Geralt had found that out then Vilgefortz would be revealed as a traitor to the Brotherhood and Philippa couldn’t have that happening before her coup.

The next time we see Philippa is in Time of Contempt at the banquet on Thanedd Island. She talks to many of the guests, here is a short conversation between her and Geralt:

“There’s no caviar.’ (Geralt)

‘One moment.’ (Philippa)

She looked around quickly, waved a hand and mumbled a spell. The silver dish in the shape of a leaping fish immediately filled with the roe of the endangered shovelnose sturgeon. The Witcher smiled.

‘Can one eat one’s fill of an illusion?’

‘No. But snobbish tastes can be pleasantly titillated by it. Have a try.’

‘Hmm… Indeed… I’d say it’s tastier than the real thing…’

‘And it’s not at all fattening,’ said the enchantress proudly, squeezing lemon juice over a heaped teaspoon of caviar. ‘May I have another goblet of white wine?’

‘At your service. Philippa?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m told etiquette precludes the use of spells here. Wouldn’t it be safer, then, to conjure up the illusion of the taste of caviar alone, without the caviar? Just the sensation? You’d surely be able to…’

‘Of course I would,’ said Philippa Eilhart, looking at him through her crystal goblet. ‘The construction of such a spell is easy as pie. But were you only to have the sensation of taste, you’d lose the pleasure the activity offers. The process, the accompanying ritual movements, the gestures, the conversation and eye contact which accompanies the process… I’ll entertain you with a witty comparison. Would you like that?’

‘Please do. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘I’d also be capable of conjuring the sensation of an orgasm.”

She is quite ruthless and cutting and while Geralt remains upset about Rience, Philippa, in true sorceress fashion, has already moved on. As well, she is explicitly queer in the books which I talk about here

Later, Geralt gets up in the night to go to the bathroom and stumbles upon Philippa attempting a coup. Triss temporarily blinds Geralt and Philippa and Tissaia exchange tense words. Philippa sends Geralt away with Dijkstra, offering him mercy despite him finding out about her coup. 

However, Geralt gets away from Dijkstra and goes back to Thanedd where a full-battle is going on. 

Turns out, Tissaia and Philippa’s fight cumulated in Tissaia releasing Vilgefortz and lowering the barrier as seen in this passage:

“They’re still fighting,’ said Carduin, grinding his teeth. ‘It’s hot down there, one spell after another…’

‘Spells? In Garstang? But there’s an anti-magic aura there!’

‘It was Tissaia’s doing. She suddenly decided whose side she was on. She took down the blockade, removed the aura and neutralised the dimeritium. Then everyone went for each other! Vilgefortz and Terranova on one side, Philippa and Sabrina on the other… The columns cracked and the vaulting collapsed… And then Francesca opened the entrance to the cellars, and those elven devils suddenly leapt out… We told them that we were neutral, but Vilgefortz only laughed.”

Geralt then runs in Keira Metz who was thrown out a window and she explains that after Vilgefortz was released the Scoia’tael (Elven and Non-human fighters who are allied with Nilfgaard sort of) attacked: 

“Sorry. How did the Scoia’tael get here?”

“They were hidden in the cellars. Thanedd is as hollow as a nutshell and there’s a huge cavern under it; you could sail a ship in if you knew how. Someone must have told them the way—Ouuuch! Be careful! Stop jolting me!’

‘Sorry. So the Squirrels came here by sea? When?’

‘God knows when. It might have been yesterday, or a week ago. We were preparing to strike at Vilgefortz, and Vilgefortz at us. Vilgefortz, Francesca, Terranova and Fercart… They conned us good and proper. Philippa thought they were planning a slow seizure of power in the Chapter, and to put pressure on the kings… But they were planning to finish us off during the Conclave… Geralt, it’s too painful… It’s my leg… Put me down for a second. Ouuuch!”

Later, there is a flashback to Philippa and Tissaia’s fight:

‘Enough!’ Philippa slammed her fist down on the table. ‘I shall satisfy your curiosity, Carduin. You ask who is preparing a war? Nilfgaard. They intend to attack and destroy us. But Emhyr var Emreis remembers Sodden Hill and has decided to protect himself by removing the mages from the game first. With this in mind, he made contact with Vilgefortz of Roggeveen. He bought him with promises of power and honour. 

Yes, Tissaia. Vilgefortz, hero of Sodden, sold us out to become the governor and ruler of all the conquered territories of the north. Vilgefortz, helped by Terranova and Fercart, shall rule the provinces which will be established in place of the conquered kingdoms. It is he who will wield the Nilfgaardian scourge over the people who inhabit those lands and will begin toiling as the Empire’s slaves. 

And Francesca Findabair, Enid an Gleanna, will become queen of the land of the free elves. It will, of course, be a Nilfgaardian protectorate, but it will suffice for the elves so long as Emperor Emhyr will give them a free hand to murder humans. The elves desire nothing so much as to murder Dh’oine.”

Tissaia states, “That is a serious accusation. Which means the proof will also have to be as weighty. But before you throw your proof onto the scale, Philippa Eilhart, be aware of my stance. Proof may be fabricated. Actions and their motives may be misinterpreted. 

But nothing can change existing facts. You have broken the unity and solidarity of the Brotherhood, Philippa Eilhart. You have handcuffed members of the Chapter like criminals. So do not dare to offer me a position in the new Chapter which your gang of traitors–who have sold out to the kings, rather than to Nilfgaaard–intend to create. 

We are separated by death and blood. The death of Hen Gedymdeith. And the blood of Lydia van Bredevoort. You spilled that blood with contempt. You were my best pupil, Philippa Eilhart. I was always proud of you. But now I have nothing but contempt for you.”

I won’t go into detail for the sake of brevity, but Philippa ends up escaping Thanedd unharmed after her failed coup and we don’t see her again until Baptism of Fire when she is forming The Lodge. 

Here is an excerpt of her pitch speech about The Lodge to the other mages:

Philippa Eilhart stood up, her dress rustling.

‘Distinguished sisters,’ she said. ‘Our situation is grave. Magic is under threat. The tragic events on Thanedd, to which my thoughts return with regret and reluctance, proved that the effects of hundreds of years of apparently peaceful cooperation could be laid waste in an instant, as self-interest and inflated ambitions came to the fore. 

We now have discord, disorder, mutual hostility and mistrust. Events are beginning to get out of control. In order to regain control, in order to prevent a cataclysm happening, the helm of this storm-tossed ship must be grasped by strong hands. 

Mistress Laux-Antille, Mistress Merigold, Mistress Metz and I have discussed the matter and we are in agreement. It is not enough to re-establish the Chapter and the Council, which were destroyed on Thanedd. In any case, there is no one left to rebuild the two institutions, no guarantee that should they be rebuilt they would not be infected with the disease that destroyed the previous ones. 

An utterly new, secret organisation should be founded which will exclusively serve matters of magic. Which will do everything to prevent a cataclysm. For if magic were to perish, our world would perish with it. 

Just as happened many centuries ago, the world without magic and the progress it brings with it will be plunged into chaos and darkness; will drown in blood and barbarity. We invite the ladies present here to take part in our initiative: to actively participate in the work proposed by this secret assembly. We took the decision to summon you here in order to hear your opinions on this matter. With this, I have finished.’

Then, later on in Baptism of Fire at the first official meeting of the Lodge Philippa discusses how she wants to make Ciri Queen of the North. 

“Who, then, is to be this Queen of the North?’

‘A girl from a royal family,’ Philippa calmly replied, ‘in whose veins flows royal blood, the blood of several great dynasties. Very young and capable of producing offspring. A girl with exceptional magical and prophetic abilities, a carrier of the Elder Blood as the prophecies have heralded. A girl who will play her role with great aplomb without direction, prompt, sycophants or grey eminences, because that is what her destiny demands. 

A girl, whose true abilities are and will be known only to us: Cirilla, daughter of Princess Pavetta of Cintra, the granddaughter of the Queen Calanthe called the Lioness of Cintra. The Elder Blood, the Icy Flame of the North, the Destroyer and Restorer, whose coming was prophesied centuries ago. Ciri of Cintra, the Queen of the North. And her blood, from which will be born the Queen of the World.”

After this, Yennefer, who was brought to the Lodge agains her will (although she is a member) escapes with Fringilla’s help in order to find Ciri and Philippa is furious. 

The next time we see Philippa is in The Tower of the Swallows and it is when Yennefer is hunting down Vilgefortz and contacts Philippa for help:

Philippa stared at her from under lowered eyelids. “If you believe,” she said finally, “that you've won peace, time, or security with this declaration, then you've miscalculated. Make no mistake about it, Yennefer. 

When you fled from Montecalvo, you made your decision. You chose to stand on a different side of the barricade. If you are not with the Lodge, you are against the Lodge. Now you're trying to forestall us from finding Ciri, and the motives that guide you are opposed to ours. 

You act against us. You do not want to allow us to use Ciri for our political purposes. You shouldknow that we will also do everything in our power to make sure that you cannot use the girl for your sentimental purposes.”

“So, it’s war?”

“Competition.” Philippa smiled toxically. “Competition only, Yennefer.”

“Decent and honorable?”

“You must be joking.”

“Obviously. Though on at least one specific issue, I would like to have an honest and genuine conversation. And, incidentally, it involves a favor to me.”

“Speak.”

“Over the next few days, maybe even tomorrow, events will occur whose consequences I cannot foresee. It may happen that our competition and rivalry suddenly has no meaning. For the simple reason that one of the competitors will not be there anymore.”

Philippa Eilhart narrowed her blue-shaded eyes. “I understand.”

“Ensure that I posthumously gain back my reputation and good name. I will no longer be held for a traitor or an accomplice of Vilgefortz. I ask this of the Lodge. I ask this of you, personally.”

Philippa was silent for a moment.“I deny your request,” she said finally. “I'm sorry, but your exoneration is not in the interest of the Lodge. If you die, you die a traitor. You'll be a traitor and criminal to Ciri, because then it will be easier to manipulate the girl.”

“Before you do something that could be fatal,” Triss said suddenly, “leave something behind for us…”

“A will?” Yennefer said.

“Something that allows us to… continue. To find Ciri. Because we are primarily concerned for her health! For her life! Yennefer, Dijkstra has found some traces of… some traces of certain activities have been found. If Vilgefortz does have Ciri, then the girl faces a horrible death.”

“Be quiet, Triss,” Philippa Eilhart hissed sharply. “We are not trading or bargaining.”

“I will leave you the information,” Yennefer said slowly. “I'll leave you the information on what I've found and what I plan. I’ll leave a trail you can follow to her. But not in vain. If you will not facilitate my exoneration in the eyes of the world, then to hell with you and with the world. But at least grant me exoneration in the eyes of the witcher.”

“No,” Philippa denied the request almost instantly. “That is also not in the interest of the Lodge. You will also remain a traitor and a mercenary sorceress to your witcher. It is not in the interest of the Lodge for him to furiously attempt to avenge you. If he despises you, he will not attempt to take revenge. By the way, he's probably already dead or will die any day now.”

“The information,” Yennefer said dully, “for his life. Save him, Philippa.”

“No, Yennefer.”

“Because it's not in the interest of the Lodge.” A purple fire kindled in the sorceress’ eyes. “Did you hear that Triss? There, you have your Lodge. You see their true colors, their true interests. And what do you think of them? You were a mentor to the girl, almost – as you put it – a big sister. And Geralt…”

“Do not attack Triss’ relationships, Yennefer.” Philippa retaliated with her own fire in her eyes. “We will find and rescue the girl without your help. And if you succeed, that's fine, a thousand thanks, because you will have saved us the trouble. You tear the girl out of the hands of Vilgefortz and we will be happy. And Geralt? Who cares about Geralt?”

“Did you hear that, Triss?”

“Forgive me,” said Triss Merigold dully. “Forgive me, Yennefer.”

“Oh, no, Triss. Never.”

I know this is a long scene, but it’s so important and isn’t one I felt right in slicing up. This establishes Triss’ true betrayal of Yennefer. Just prior to this, it is practically stated that Triss and Philippa slept together and despite Triss’ love for Yennefer her loyalty to Philippa is stronger in this moment which makes this hurt so much more. Philippa is also so cruel to Yennefer in this scene, denying both Geralt and Ciri the truth of her motivations as to better manipulate them. It really showcases how her lust for power overrides her empathy. 

The final time we see Philippa is in Lady of the Lake when Ciri is brought before the Lodge. Here, Philippa describes what their plans are for Ciri:

“You are coming with me,” Lady Owl (Philippa) said, breaking the heavy silence, “and Sile to Kovir, to Pont Vanis, the summer capital of the kingdom. As you are no longer Cirilla of Cintra, during the course of the audience you will be presented as an adept of magic, being protected by us. 

At that audience you will meet a very wise king, Esterad Thyssen. You will meet his wife, the Queen Zuleyka, a person of singular nobility and goodness. You will also meet their son and heir, Prince Tancred.”

Ciri was beginning to understand and rolled her eyes. Lady Owl did not miss that detail.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “First of all you must impress prince Tancred. Because you are going to become his lover and give him a child.”

“If you were still Cirilla of Cintra,” Philippa continued after a long pause, “still the daughter of Pavetta and granddaughter of Calanthe, you would become Prince Tancred’s legal wife. You’d be the princess and later the queen of Poviss and Kovir. Unfortunately, and I tell you with genuine regret, fate has deprived you of everything. Including your future. You will only be his mistress. His favourite.”

Then Later: 

“Your’s and Tancred’s child,” Philippa watched here with dark eyes, “will ensure the future and status of this Lodge. Take note that it will be a great thing. You will be a part of it, because right after the birth you will sit with us at this table. We will teach you. You are one of us, even if you do not want to admit it yet.”

“On the island of Thanedd,” Ciri overcame the tightness in her throat, “you said I was a mindless tool, even a monster, Lady Owl, and now you say that I am one of you.”

Then, the Lodge asks Ciri what her last name will be, Philippa and others offering theirs but Ciri declines in favor of choosing Yennefer’s:

“Thank you, Lady Philippa,” Ciri said after a few moments, squeezing the head of the sphinxes in her hands. “I also feel honoured with the proposal to take the surname de Tancarville. However, it seems to me that my new last name is the only thing that I can choose for myself, I thank the two mistresses. But I want to be called Cirilla of Vengerberg, daughter of Yennefer.”

Ciri requests to go and see Geralt and The Lodge votes on this and Philippa is the deciding vote. At first, she is hesitant but then Ciri shows her a vision and Philippa says this: 

“This Lodge,” Philippa said at last in a firm voice, “is to decide the fate of the world. So, this Lodge must reflect the world. Here, equilibrium and wisdom does not always mean cold and selfish, calculation and vileness, and sentimentality is not always naive. On one hand, iron discipline and on the other responsibility, resistance to violence, gentleness and trust. Cool reason… And heart.”

“I,” she said into the silence that reigned after her introduction, “cast the last vote. I will take into account one more thing. An element that without balancing anything, balances everything.”

“Following her gaze, everyone looked at the wall, to a mosaic of many multicolour tiles depicting the snake Uroboros, biting it’s own tail.

“That thing,” she continued, staring with her dark eyes at Ciri, “is destiny in which I, Philippa Eilhart have only begun to believe in recently, which I have only recently begun to understand. Destiny is not the way to providence or comfortable fatalism. Destiny is hope. I am full of hope that it will become what we want to happen, so I give my vote to Ciri - Child of Destiny, Child of Hope”

In the pillared hall of Montecalvo the was silence for a long time. From outside of the window came the hunting cry from a sea eagle.

“Lady Yennefer,” Ciri whispered. “It means…”

“Come, my daughter,” Yennefer whispered back. “Geralt is waiting for is and it is a long road ahead.”

This is the last time we see Philippa, but based on what we hear at other parts of Lady of Lake, we know she does not have a happy ending. After this, the Witch Hunt begin, a period of time when the Clergy hunted and murdered sorceresses and destroyed their pictures and images. The Witcher Hunts themselves could be an entirely separate post there is so much there. 

Many sorceresses, Philippa included as later considered Martyrs but she was killed viciously by the clergy as described in this passage from Lady of the Lake:

…As well as many of the other faithful, St. Philippa was also besmirched with betraying the Kingdom, inducing riots and plotting a coup. Willemer, a heretic and sectarian, unlawfully appointed himself the title of archpriest, and ordered St. Philippa to be thrown into a dark dungeon, and to plague her with cold and hunger, until she confessed to her sins of which she was accused and repented. 

Also various instruments of torture were used to try and break her spirit. But St. Philippa with disdain, spit in his face and accused him of sodomy.

The heretic had her disrobed and whipped her with barbed wire and placed sharp splinters under her nails. While unceasingly preaching about his faith and denouncing the Goddess. But St. Philippa laughed at him and recommended to him to heal his sick mind.”

“Willemer then gave the order to have her taken to the rack and stretched, while tearing her body with sharp hooks and burning her with candles. Although thus tormented, St. Philippa showed no weakness in body and indeed her resistance and endurance seemed almost superhuman. 

The executioner’s arms went limp and with fear they retreated from her. Then the filthy heretic, Willemer, began to threaten them and told them to continue the torment. They burned St. Philippa with red-hot irons, pulled her limbs out of their joints and pulled at her breasts with blacksmith tongs. And although she passed away from this torment, she confessed nothing.

The shameless heretic Willemer, we read in the books of our holy fathers, later suffered for this punishment and it was that lice and worms began to eat him alive, his entrails rotted away and he died miserably. 

His carcass carried with it a foul stench and nobody wanted to bury him, and so he was dropped in a swamp.

For the suffering and death of St. Philippa the eternal memory of a martyr’s crown rightfully belongs. Let us give the Great Mother Goddess praise for her lessons and teachings. Amen.

The Life of St. Philippa, Martyr of Mons Calvus

The Book of Martyrs Compiled in the Breviary of Tretogor, For the 

Contemplation of the Holy Fathers and Mothers.”

Needless to say, Philippa’s hunger for power and The Lodge end in ruin. There are very few happy endings in The Witcher and this is just another example. 

So that’s my overview on Philippa! I had to cut some scenes and moments in the hope of keeping it short, but I hope it was still an enjoyable read. If you want another character/topic WTF post leave something in my inbox and I will get to it when I can. 

[sorceressesruntheworld]

I see. I'm interested to know what you like about the sorceresses in The Witcher, and their relationships with each other (pick your favs cuz there's a lot :P) xD Also, do you ever see yourself in these characters?

Are you sure you want to give me this chance anon? ARE YOU?

Let me think...

They are cool (duh)

They give zero fucks about people who think they aren’t

They are beautiful. I mean all girls are but let’s be fair they are like super doper beautiful

They are ambitious and methodical, stubborn little shits, headstrong, powerful, but also tender souls with compassion and care

(that last part probably exlcudes Sabrina

They are in charge of their body and sex life

(so much so that sometimes they are the ones men should fear and yes again I’m talking about you Sabrina

(but pls do it safely and on top of a hedgehog is NOT safe

Magical powerful ladies and possibly lesbians! WHAT ELSE TO LOVE

As for my favorite sorceresses relationship the first one is actually Triss/Yenna. Apart from the fact that my gf’s favorite sorceress is Yenna and mine is Triss and we both like them together, their relationship with each other, in my opinion, is way more interesting than either of them with a certain witcher.

Did I mention I don’t like and even extremely dislike Geralt/Yenna? So much so that I even refuse to call Yennefer Yen because that’s what Geralt does? Well now I do. I don’t have anything personal against the famous white wolf, not really. I’m just really allergic to men and heterosexuality in general oops. And the most thing I hate about him is how a man can easily turn two dear friends into their ugly selves we sadly witness toward the end of Lady of the Lake just before all hell broke loose in Rivia. If not for the event, they were going to fight each other like two mortal enemies and it broke my heart way more than literally any other thing happened throughout the books. They are way better than this. So yeah later I was happy again.

And a quick reminder to something I wrote about Triss and Philippa,(book spoiler warning) two canonically sapphic women who have been sharing suspectable long screen time together and nothing happened, yep, definitely

Also it may not be per question request but I still want to talk about Ciri and Triss. I don’t think many people realize the intensity of their bond as it was hardly presented anywhere but in books. Ciri would have been a real witcher through mutation or dead if Triss did not stop the witchers of Kaer Morhan from doing so. The sorceress dressed her,demanded extra attention for her periods when no witcher ever had the presense of mind because of course it’s a woman’s thing, taught her basic elder speech (before Yenna did the advanced one) and makeup and all the “girly” thing, and was her closest friend all the way until much later, apparently closer than all those witchers. Now personally I don’t like those girly things, but to a girl who had lost everything in her past life and only have harsh and servere trainings given by a group of men without emotion or the slightest clue as to how to care for a princess-to-survivor, Triss was the soft landing she did not have the presense of mind to know how much she needed. If Yennefer did not walk straight into Vilgefortz’s trap, he would have kidnapped Triss to torture for Ciri’s whereabout. Triss was her first motherly figure after Calanthe, NOT Yenna. They both parented Ciri. Please let them share custody o(╥﹏╥)o

This shit still turned out to be too long lol I can literally talk about sorceresses all day (proven by my annoyed friends)

[vanbredevoort]

The No One Cares segment, presenting today: Why did Lydia commit suicide

tw: suicide, death

Thanedd’s coup was a clown fiesta. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. An important highlight of the night was Lydia van Bredevoort’s corpse, that made everyone realise how badly shit had been stirred, boiled and put to display. Something that wasn’t supposed to happen-- dead sorceress.

It is never mentioned in the books how it happened, we only see the aftermath of the situation. We know Vilgefortz was in shackles. We know there was a fight. And we know things got bad when everyone found Lydia’s corpse on the floor.

   'What has happened, Radcliffe?' Triss asked, removing the hand from the hilt of the dagger stuck below Lydia's breastbone. 'How could this happen? It was to be done without deaths!'    'She attacked us.' The sorcerer muttered, bowing his head. 'When they took Vilgefortz they fell on us. There was an uproar... I myself do not know how... It is her own dagger.'  

The coup was supposed to go about without any deaths, but Lydia died, and Radcliffe gives us the clue on the how: her own dagger. Her own doing, her own hand: suicide. Geralt draws his own conclusions, that are very close to my own.

   ‘Why did Lydia have to die, Vilgefortz? Why did you command her to die? She had to divert attention from you, right? You had to give yourself time to become resistant to dimeritium, to send a telepathic signal to Rience? Poor Lydia, she of the wronged face. Everyone knew that she was a person of no importance. Everyone. Even her.’

   ‘Shut up.’

   ‘You had Lydia murdered, wizard. You used her.’

Did Vilgefortz order Lydia’s death? Did Vilgefortz specifically said ‘Lydia, see that dagger? When I’m in shackles, you go van Stabbyvoort and everything will be fine. For me, not for you, you’ll be dead, but fine otherwise’?

HEADCANON 1: I myself do NOT think Vilgefortz directly ordered Lydia’s death. Vilgefortz probably orchestrated with her the plan of creating a ruckuss. She was to divert attention from him through a fight so he could speak to Rience and stirr shit up. Somewhere there, lost in translation maybe, Lydia decided the best option was to kill herself. Her dead body would draw attention, enough to give Vilgefortz time to become resistant to dimeritium and send the telephatic text to Rience.

Why do I think Vilgefortz did not directly order her death? If you’ve read what’s next in the books, you know Vilgefortz loses his shit when that conversation finishes and moves from fun&threatening speeches to a baguette lesson. And Vilgefortz lost his temper twice: when a whole fucking tower blows up and wrecks him, and when Lydia’s death is merely mentioned. He seriously moves from long LONG sentences to ‘Do not say that name’, ‘Shut up’. I do not think he was happy with Lydia’s choice, therefore did probably NOT order her death.

Here’s where the how and why starts.

Why did she think it was the best option? Because Lydia thought herself as expendable. No one saw her as a person of value, so why would she see herself as such? Vilgefortz gave her a task, and she saw it through to perfection. What could be a better distraction than a dead sorceress? Lydia saw the opportunity to give him the greatest distraction a person could give.

And you would think it meant paying the highest price, her life, but she did not see it that way. Everyone, including Lydia, thinks she’s a meaningless individual.

‘And that woman with a strange face behind Vilgefortz?’ ‘It's his assistant, Lydia van Bredevoort.’ stated Yennefer coolly. ‘A person of no importance’

‘Lydia van Bredevoort. Vilgefortz's assistant.’ ‘Yes, right, you've mentioned it. The person of no importance.’

She’s worth nothing. She means nothing. Everyone knows it. Why would she preserve a life that’s meaningless, when she could do the job that was expected from her flawlessly?

HEADCANON 2: Her suicide was NOT a spur of the moment decision from Lydia’s part. She did not see Vilgefortz in shackles and went guess-i’ll-die-meme.jpg. She planned it. 

Remember Lydia stuck the dagger under her sternum. She sliced her aorta, the largest blood vessel. That is not a random choice: she studied anatomy for months to know exactly where to stab and how, so there would be no chance of survival.

She hid it from everyone, specially from Vilgefortz. That’s the reason for the whole ‘a person of no importance’ build up: it is to make it obvious that she did it out sheer LACK OF VALUE FOR HER OWN LIFE. She knew exactly was she was going to do, she planned it thoughtfully, thoroughly, and she paid a price she considered absolutely reasonable.

Vilgefortz was all that mattered.

Everyone knew she was in love with Vilgefortz, and everyone knew she was a person of no importance. Mix those two---

and you get death.