Chapter Text
Uncharacteristically hurried steps echoed down the corridor of Aretuza as Murta raced to meet Fola and Glacella. Skidding to a halt outside the latter’s chambers, Murta burst in, wide-eyed and breathless. The room’s occupants jumped in surprise at her abrupt entrance. Taking in their friend’s state, Glacella demanded, “What is it? What’s happened?”
Panting, the brunette exclaimed, “You’ll never believe what I just heard!” Eager for new gossip, the two adepts leaned forward in anticipation as Murta regained her breath.
Steadier than she had been, Murta hurriedly began, “I was near the greenhouses when I overheard Lady Triss and Lady Sabrina speaking. Lady Triss asked, “Do you think Daddy will be there when we check on Tissaia?”” She broke off as Fola gasped, Glacella’s eyes bright with anticipation.
Voice hushed, the brunette continued, “Lady Sabrina looked positively disgusted! She immediately told Lady Triss to never say that ever again! Lady Triss just started giggling! They were coming toward me so I had to hide, but can you believe it!! Who do you think they were talking about?!”
Fola’s brows furrowed as she looked at her classmate in confusion. “What do you mean? They’re speaking of Lady Yennefer, surely. Who else could it possibly be?” How had Murta not already realized that? Ever since Sodden, there had been endless rumours and whispers about the violet-eyed mage. Not least of which featured her defeat of Nilfgaard’s entire army while simultaneously saving the Rectoress.
An agreeing noise escaped Glacella as her features pinched in contemplation before her eyes widened. “I bet that’s the real reason she left Aedirn! The late King Virfuril must have suspected her involvement with the Rectoress and threatened their union!” Despite the dubious furrow that the claim brought to Fola’s brow, Murta gasped in appreciation.
“Do you think, after Sodden, they’ve decided to stop hiding?” the brunette anxiously exclaimed, her wide eyes turning to Glacella for input.
The shorter girl hummed and nodded slowly, “It would make sense. After what Lady Yennefer did at Sodden, there would be no hiding their status.” Head tilted, the blonde mused, “Perhaps they wed in secret afterwards?”
Pale eyes widened as Glacella’s head snapped up in realization. “Lady Yennefer must have been attempting to court the Rectoress for years!” Murta gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in horror as her eyes saucered. “The Rectoress refused her?” she whispered, despaired.
Surely not? Who could resist the advances of Yennefer of Vengerberg?! After meeting the volatile older mage, the adepts all agreed that she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. Just thinking of her beautiful eyes was enough to draw a blush to Fola and Glacella’s cheeks; on a dare, Murta had even confessed to having more than one dream of kissing the older mage’s full lips. Their crushes on her only grew as they learned of her exploits. Although, if anyone were strong enough to resist, surely it could only be Tissaia de Vries.
Glacella’s expression grew solemn as she slowly nodded. “It would make sense. Regardless of what she might have felt, the Rectoress is ancient. She wouldn’t have agreed to wed just anyone, and if Lady Triss is calling Lady Yennefer her daddy, she must have wed the Rectoress at some point.” Shaking her head in disbelief, Glacella mused, “Amazing how well they hid it! Even my lord father never mentioned the Rectoress having a spouse!”
Biting her lower lip, Murta blushed and shot an imploring look at Glacella as she asked, “D-Do you think we should call her daddy then? Lady Yennefer, I mean? I-If Lady Triss is using it, surely it is her title?”
“It could be,” Glacella mused, brow pinched in consideration. “It hasn’t been discussed, but perhaps mages have a different form or politesse amongst themselves from what is shared with the human nobility? I’ve not heard Daddy used as a title before, but maybe it’s only for ascended mages?” Fola squirmed, lips scrunching to the right as she debated the suggestion.
“It… could make sense?” the curly-haired adept said hesitantly. “Surely, Lady Sabrina and any other mages who attended Aretuza with or before, er, Daddy would feel awkward calling Lady Yennefer that way?”
The other two nodded in commiseration; they couldn’t imagine ever calling each other that. Not to mention any of the novices! It would be a mortifying adjustment.
After a beat, Murta, eyes growing huge, gasped. At their expectant looks, she whispered, “Does that mean, do they… is the Rectoress… Mommy?”
They froze. Surely not? The idea that anyone would dare address their ice-woman of a Rectoress by such a title was outrageous. Fidgeting, Fola hedged, “Maybe… they’re both daddy?”
Glacella’s brows shot up, “What? Like Daddy Vengerberg and Daddy de Vries?” The curly-haired adept shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never heard of anyone daring call the Rectoress anything er, matriarchal?”
The blonde tilted her head, considering the idea. Her pale eyes glimmered in the room’s low light as she observed her companions, a mischievous grin forming on her features, “If there is a separate naming system among the ascended mages, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”
~~~
“Um, Daddy?” Murta asked promptingly, her eyes wide as she warbled before the raven-haired, violet-eyed goddess that stood before her. It would be her luck to run across the older woman so soon. They had been gossiping about this only days before!
The older mage was visibly startled at the address, an incredulous expression crossing her beautiful features. After a beat, Yennefer choked out, “Don’t say that! You’re way too young for that sort of - Sweet Melietele, what is Tissaia even teaching these—”
Cutting herself off, the raven-haired mage shook her head in disbelief and made a mental note to track down the Rectoress to ask what kind of school she was running these days. Had she uttered such a thing in her own days as an adept, Yennefer could only imagine the dressing down that would have ensued.
After she gathered her thoughts, Yennefer refocused on the red-faced adept and demanded, “What did you need, girl?”
Squeaking lightly, face flaming with embarrassment, Murta hurriedly mumbled a request for directions to a classroom which earned her a doubtful look and caustic delivery.
The brunette latched onto it all the same. Anything to be out of this mortifying ordeal she entered at Glacella’s request. With a hastily delivered thanks, the adept scurried away, silently cursing her friend.
~~~
“Definitely an ascended mage title.” Murta gasped as she half-slammed Glacella’s door behind her, pale-faced. They stared at her in stunned disbelief before the blonde shrieked, “Oh my gods, did you call her Daddy?!!!”
Red-faced, Murta miserably nodded. Trembling even as Fola moved closer to awkwardly pat her shoulder in commiseration, Murta warbled, “She mentioned being too young, so it’s definitely an ascended thing.”
Scrambling toward them, Glacella exclaimed, “Oh my gods, I cannot believe you did that!”
Whimpering faintly, Murta threw her hands over her face and, through their muffle, wailed, “I’ll never be able to look at her beautiful face again!”
Despite the awkwardness, the two adepts did their best to comfort their friend, tugging her into a group hug and offering what reassurances they could. When Murta’s embarrassed mumbles and leaking tears dried, they drew back, all perched on Glacella’s bed.
Fingers absently scratching at the scarred flesh of her cheek, Fola murmured, “So… what do we call her then? It can’t be Rector or Rectoress – those are already their own title and tied to magical prowess. Although, Lady Yennefer must be talented enough for it?”
Glacella tilted her head, pale strands of hair spilling over her shoulders as she considered. “No,” she decided after a beat. “Rectors and Rectoresses have to undergo specific exams for those titles.” She murmured, mind turning over the possibilities. Clearly, ‘daddy’ was a separate privilege for ascended mages. Still, if Lady Yennefer was wed to their Rectoress, she must have a title!
Absently biting her lip, Glacella’s pale eyes shuttered as she recalled the lessons of her youth for foreign dignitaries. How could they possibly address someone so integral to the woman who decided the fate of the rest of their lives? After a few long moments of contemplation, Glacella’s eyes snapped open, and she regarded the others seriously.
“Rectoress Consort.” She declared with finality.
For a startled moment, they stared at her in stunned disbelief. Slowly, Fola nodded, murmuring, “Rectoress Consort Vengerberg.” Murta followed suit, the three of them in agreement.
If they spent the rest of the evening grilling their friend for the appropriate greetings, courtesies and formalities for such a position, well. That was their own business.
~~~
A week later, inconspicuously in the dining hall, Fola learned a new truth. Stumbling, still half-choking, into Glacella’s room, she sputtered in disbelief, “It’s Vilgefortz!”
The two adepts blinked at her in bewilderment. “What is Vilgefortz?” Glacella pressed after a moment of stunned silence.
Grimacing, Fola swiped absently at her scars and despaired, “The Rectoress’s suitor! It’s not Lady Yennefer,” a harrowed breath shook her as she revealed, “It-It’s Vilgefortz of Roggeven! I heard some of the older adepts gossiping about it – how he goes to her chambers after dark, and one swore she thought she’d seen him kiss the Rectoress’s cheek!”
The adept’s stomach rolled at the mere idea. How could their esteemed Rectoress allow such a thing? Why would she, when Yennefer – whose beauty was revered across the Continent – was readily available to her? What madness had to have taken her?
Eyes misty, Murta gasped, her hands clapping atop her sternum. “Poor Cons—er, Lady Yennefer.” She corrected, having grown accustomed to thinking of the older sorceress as the Rectoress’s consort since they’d first concluded it to be the truth a week prior. Her heart ached for the older mage. How horrible for Lady Yennefer, forced to watch on as her beloved was with another!
Suddenly determined, Fola corrected, “Consort.” Two pairs of eyes blinked back at her in disbelief, Murta’s brows furrowing as she said, “But didn’t you just say—”
“I know what I said!” Fola cut in harshly, eyes bright as she continued, “But just because the Rectoress is apparently seeing that man doesn’t mean she has to keep seeing him! There’s no way that Consort Yennefer isn’t in love with the Rectoress – we all heard what she did at Sodden! She burnt a whole army to ash and spared the Rectoress while doing it! What other reason could she possibly have done it?”
Slowly, a grin formed on Glacella’s lips as she nodded along with her classmate’s zeal. “We should help them.” She declared, garnering the others’ attention. “Fola’s right, Consort Yennefer is obviously in love with the Rectoress, and the Rectoress has to be in love with her too!”
Eyes twinkling, Glacella revealed, “They say the Rectoress screamed herself hoarse finding Consort Vengerberg on the battlefield. That even though she was terribly injured herself, the Rectoress kept vigil over Consort Vengerberg for days afterward.”
A dreamy sigh escaped Murta at the revelation; it was just so terribly romantic! To think that - deep, deep, deep down - their Rectoress had such warmth in her heart was lovely. It filled the girl with quiet hope that, perhaps, one day, they might even witness it.
“Gods, the Rectoress is so strict,” Fola murmured shakily. “Can you imagine what she’d have done to any other mage if they did half of what Yennefer of Vengerberg is rumoured to have done?!” Her companions paled dramatically, both suppressing shudders at the very idea.
If that wasn’t irrefutable proof of the Rectoress’s love, nothing was.
Nodding firmly, Glacella added, “Besides, if half the rumours of the scandal and debauchery Lady Yennefer has gotten up to are true, having her around might finally make the Rectoress loosen up.” Their cheeks all heated at the implication, recalling the scarce whispers they’d heard of the raven-haired mage’s exploits over the years. Having met the whirlwind of a sorceress, none of them doubted that she could have accomplished all of them with her beauty.
“H-How are we going to help?” Murta asked waveringly, uncertain of what they could accomplish as mere students.
Features determined, the blonde said, “The first thing we need is to remove Consort Vengerberg’s competition. We need a way to keep Vilgefortz of Roggeveen as far away from the Rectoress as possible.” They fell silent, contemplating their options.
After a stretch, the curly-haired adept worried her lower lip, cheeks reddened as she suggested, “We... could tell the Rectoress we’re worried about our virtues with him around? Rectoress Consort Vengerberg is around sometimes now, maybe… maybe we could say we’ve seen him leer at her too?”
Eyes wide, Glacella grinned hugely. “Fola, you’re a genius! The Rectoress will surely get rid of him if he’s perving on the woman she loves!”
The three of them squealed, throwing themselves into a tangled group hug as they ducked their heads and began fleshing out the details of their plans.
~~~
Tissaia raised her head following the knock at her office door, surprised at the sight of the three adepts who entered. “Girls,” she greeted neutrally despite her surprise. Except for a foolish piglet, it was incredibly uncommon for her students to seek out any additional time in her presence. As Fola closed the door behind them when they entered, her eyebrows rose minutely.
They came to a halt several paces back from the desk. Visibly nervous, the trio stood so closely together that their gangly limbs fumbled and bumped against one another’s. Their eyes darted from each other to the office’s décor and back again – clearly too skittish to meet the Rectoress’s icy gaze head-on.
After a tense moment of silence, Fola appeared to gather herself and warbled, “C-Can we talk to you, Rectoress?”
Alarmed, Tissaia’s mind immediately raced with the possibilities of what may have happened. Ruthlessly clamping down on the urge to panic, Tissaia kept her face blank and voice neutral as she replied archly, “You may. What about?”
The curly-haired mage seemed to crumple slightly under her direct attention, hands twisting nervously together in front of her. “I-It’s about Lord Roggeveen.” The girl stuttered quietly. Tissaia blinked, mind slamming to a halt as bewilderment crested over her.
‘Vilgefortz?’ She thought, incredulous. ‘What in the Continent has happened to even put the man in their awareness?’
Before she could demand as much, Murta shakily added, “W-we know he’s around for Brotherhood business, but um,” she stumbled and licked nervously at her lips. “H-he, um, he m-makes us nervous, Rectoress. Th-the way he looks at some of the older adepts and sorceresses…” she trailed off, cheeks reddening. “I-I don’t think he looked at Lady Laux-Antille or Lady Glevissig’s faces the entire time he talked to them!”
Glacella took one of her friend’s shaking hands as she addressed their Rectoress, emphatically adding, “I saw him looking at Lady Yennefer when she was here last. I thought he was going to attempt to accost her right there in the corridor!” she shook her head, pale locks of hair swaying with the motion. Her eyes grew damp as she frantically lamented, “Lady Yennefer is so powerful... if he’s willing to go after her, what chance would we stand if he decided he wanted a simpler target?”
Tissaia blinked, nonplussed. She would never have predicted this when the adepts entered her office. The longer they spoke, however, the more outrage and protective fury grew, bubbling and hot, beneath her ribs.
The Rectoress didn’t strictly believe there was any real risk of the man seeking out the adepts, certainly not for anything amorous. However, Tissaia would not abide by Vilgefortz – or any man – making her adepts so afraid. Not in her school.
If their remarks were true, and she did not doubt they were - he wouldn’t be the first man to fail to keep his gaze from straying to Rita and Sabrina’s ample bosoms - then she would be having strong words with the man. Being useful politically in no way gave him rights for such outrageous impropriety!
And what was this about Yennefer? Why in the flaming spheres would Vilgefortz even be looking at the younger mage? To Tissaia’s considerable knowledge, like many among the Brotherhood, Vilgefortz detested her erstwhile charge. However, she knew well that respect was not necessary for lust.
No one in their right mind would claim Yennefer unattractive; the Rectoress could well imagine what sort of look her charges had witnessed him level the violet-eyed woman with. Just thinking of it made the stirring anger in her chest fizzle and pop with menace. How dare he!
It was hardly a surprise that the adepts would notice such an interaction. The Rectoress was despairingly aware of their infatuation with the raven-haired mage. The events of Sodden had only made their regard grow. Not that Tissaia blamed them. She’d never succeeded at reserving her characteristic neutrality when it came to Yennefer either.
Taking a calming breath, she regarded her charges seriously. “Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention, girls.” She began, sharp eyes catching the nervous stiffening of their muscles as they awaited her verdict. “I shall take steps to ensure that Vilgefortz’s time in Aretuza is reduced to only when strictly necessary, and when needs must, he shan’t be near where you are.”
The trio visibly slumped with relief; Tissaia’s heart ached for the anxieties they’d clearly been carrying. With hurried murmurs of thanks and well wishes for the remainder of her evening, the adepts beat a hurried retreat, leaving with her worried stare on their backs.
When they were once more safely back in their chambers, the three adepts shrieked at their success, tossing their arms around each other in a delighted hug. One step down!
~~~
Having continued aiding Tissaia by covering some of the adepts’ classes, Rita had been informed of the adepts’ concerns surrounding Vilgefortz. The vivacious mage couldn’t deny she was curious at what had prompted it. Curious and more than a little worried that something more than what they told Tissaia must have happened to urge them to actually take their concerns to the brunette.
As much as she adored her friend, Rita was well aware the Rectoress’s draconic demeanour kept the overwhelming majority of students as far away as they could possibly keep themselves. For the adepts to have actually gone to her – and about a fellow Brotherhood member at that! – was unprecedented. Especially where Rita herself was present for them to approach.
The blonde knew Tissaia was worried about it too – a pity that the brunette refused to allow Rita to listen in when she effectively banned the man from Aretuza. Oh, how Rita lamented missing out on witnessing the expression on his face!
Nevertheless, the blonde had decided to look deeper into things - for her own peace of mind, if nothing else. Tissaia could have what moral scruples she liked about it; Rita was not above rifling around in Glacella’s entirely unguarded mind to find what had happened.
When she did, Rita’s emerald eyes flew wide, and she had to bite down hard on her tongue to avoid howling with laughter until she pissed herself. ‘Oh my gods,’ she thought, elated. ‘This is too good. This is the single greatest thing to happen in the entire time Tissaia has been Rectoress!’
Absently, Rita made a mental note to buy Triss a fruit basket in thanks for this glorious circumstance. And a daddy joke? Who knew the fiery-haired healer had it in her! Perhaps she should spend more time with the little spitfire, Rita mused. The only thing that topped that had to be the adepts’ conclusion of Yennefer’s role.
‘Rectoress Consort!’ Rita wheezed, delighted. She could only imagine the expression on Tissaia’s face should she learn just what her charges were up to.
Thinking on it further, Rita could see where they were coming from; everyone knew that Yennefer of Vengerberg was special to Tissaia. After Sodden, most of the Continent had been astounded by the raven-haired woman’s actions. Infamous as she was for deriding Aretuza and its Rectoress, as well as flagrantly disregarding the Brotherhood’s desires and demands, Yennefer’s willingness to follow said Rectoress into battle and somehow save her in the greatest use of fire magic in memory was shocking.
The more the blonde considered it, the more convinced she was that the adepts were indeed onto something, even if they were incorrect in a few assumptions – not least of which was their belief that Tissaia was seeing Vilgefortz.
Snickering to herself, Rita made a mental note to reveal that particular tidbit to the Rectoress. She couldn’t wait for Tissaia’s reaction to finding out her students’ concerns hadn’t been protecting their virtues but hers! As if Tissaia would ever have let a man within five layers of her smallclothes.
If anything, Vilgefortz would have better luck if he tried to sleep with Yennefer. Something that Rita was quite confident would result in the raven-haired mage violently divesting the man of his sword.
Smirk playing on her full lips, the blonde contemplated how she could help push this little mission along. After all, Tissaia did deserve all the happiness in the world! If that was with Yennefer - who might be the single greatest perpetrator of mischief and mayhem Rita had ever heard of - well, who was she to stand in the way?
Really, she was just doing her sacred duty as Tissaia’s friend by helping.
Emerald eyes twinkling, Rita addressed the class, “Girls,” she began, regaining their attention from the multiple failed attempts at moulding the water in the bowls before them. “In the coming weeks, we will begin your dance lessons.”
Expectedly, this declaration set off a flurry of excited whispers and tittering. Suppressing a grin, Rita said, “Yes, yes, it is an exciting time.” she commiserated warmly, always happy to see her students so enthused. When they calmed, she continued, “Dancing, while seemingly innocuous, can be an invaluable tool in your time at court and any other grand functions. Many a sorceress has used it to great effect to garner the interest and attention of a royal or courtier or form a desired connection with another mage.”
Mischievously, Rita added, “Some have even used it against each other, stealing the attention of a king from another mage with their skills.” Was she leading them too much? Perhaps, but far be it for Rita to leave things too much to chance.
“Now,” She continued after a pause to allow her words to sink in. “Typically, this would be taught by a dance master, but as we are still dealing with the fallout from the battle at Sodden, I shall be teaching you this term. That said, I will be reaching out to my fellow mages to see if they might be willing to demonstrate with me, so do pay attention to their techniques and how they differ from mine.” Glacella’s eyes widened, and as Rita hoped, the girl’s hand shot up.
Suppressing a smirk, the older mage called on the girl. Eyes wide, the young adept asked, “Could you get Lady Yennefer to come?!” The other adepts’ eyes widened, a litany of appreciative murmurs rising amongst the students.
Rita could have snickered - Yennefer had been infamous for decades. However, her actions at Sodden had brought her following among the students to new heights! Tissaia would have many headaches because of it, Rita was sure.
“I heard that she’s one of the most gifted dancers on the Continent!” One girl breathed, her friend commiserating with hushed reverence, “I heard she danced so beautifully at her ascension that the kings all duelled to have her as their mage!”
The blonde quashed the desire to cackle – perfect. Affecting a faux air of uncertainty, the older mage turned to Glacella. “Well, I don’t know Lady Yennefer personally,” she paused for effect, drinking in the way their faces started to fall. “But,” she continued, giddy at how every eye snapped back to her. “If you’re all so interested in having her, I’m sure I could convince Rectoress de Vries to reach out to her.”
As the girls all frantically nodded and clamoured to reassure her that they were, in fact, desperate to see the indomitable Yennefer of Vengerberg dance, Rita internally grinned.
Things were about to get interesting.