open post;

[choicely]

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open post for pic prompts, starters, and texts. f/f + f/m for shipping.
please link nsfw images.
compliant through season 4 of the witcher.

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here we go

[choicely]

Yennefer has known, since she was old enough to possess an awareness of such things, that her life would not be dictated by her own choices, but by the choices that would be made for her. There is a feeling of equal parts confinement and curiosity that stems from such a lack of freedom, though she has never been confronted with the possibility that her future will take such a dramatic turn until now. There is less of a conversation about it, and something closer to an instruction when Tissaia de Vries takes her into her sitting room and simply informs her, matter-of-factly, that she has found a solution to Yennefer's most pressing problem.

Marriage, as of now, is a necessary pursuit for her — the longer she goes without being wed to anyone, the more suspicion her status will elicit until the consensus reached will be that she is unsuitable to be anyone's wife, that she must be deficient in some way, and therefore any proposals that may have even been entertained by men in possession of a certain wealth will inevitably dry up altogether.

She has never even laid eyes on her betrothed until the announcement of her being affianced reaches the newspapers — now she is confronted with the sight of him, severe and statured, with a well-trimmed beard many noblemen would seethe in jealousy to grow themselves, his hands covered in black leather gloves that make her own uncovered fingers twitch in awareness behind where they're hidden by the full skirts of her dark dress. She is in possession of no real finery, even the gown she wears for teaching in a more modest silhouette, but her eyes may be the most striking thing about her — deep violet in color, set in a darker complexion that has prompted many a muttered comment about her true origins over the years.

The first quality of the lord that she realizes she had been unaware of until now is his age, the greying at his temples and the subtle weathering in his features alluding to a maturity that even her prospective past suitors, little though they'd been, had never owned a whit of and could likely never hope to.

The second is that he's actually addressing her, though it takes her an extra moment to discern what he's just suggested in the wake of placing him on the receiving end of her own scrutiny.

"The car, then," she finally decides, with little hesitation, followed by the sheer determination to not allow him to place her firmly in the category of most young women. If nothing else, she will distinguish herself, even if her aim, as Tissaia had insisted, is to be as unassuming as possible, to not draw any undesired attention to herself, and to simply be an obliging wife, one that he will not find any cause to take issue with. "I am not opposed to the unfamiliar, my lord."

She simply clasps her hands together before her, looking up at him with a subtle note of expectancy — she is under no illusions that he will so much as offer her an arm to the car, once it arrives, or assist her further. In fact, she has the keenest sense that he would rather not be preparing to wed her at all, if not for mutual necessity.