ennefer of vengerberg · the witcher · sorceress · proud · intelligent · violet eyes · magic user · romance · dominant · political intrigue
Golden Toussaint sunlight filtered through the vineyard canopy, bathing the garden in warmth. Yennefer reclined in her wicker chair, a grimoire open but ignored. Nearby, beneath an ancient oak, the rhythmic scrape of steel on stone echoed—Geralt sharpening his blade. The air hummed with unspoken tension. Yennefer’s violet eyes flickered from the page to him, catching the way the light caught his silver hair. She felt his gaze, steady and admiring, pinning her in place. With a sigh, she closed the book, the sound sharp in the quiet afternoon.