#knife like

she was trained on how to act at these parties. how to look like the best hostess and how to behave properly. how to be perfect. she found them rather boring -- even ones that were supposed to be about her. she wasn't even hosting, but the malfoys insisted on celebrating the betrothal between her and lucius with a lavish party where she didn't even know most of the guests that were there. members of the ministry, she assumed. people who didn't necessarily care that the two of them were to be wed. the malfoy family had connections -- connections that they had to keep when lucius eventually took over everything.

whatever that everything entailed.

narcissa got rather distracted while listening to the older women talk -- talks of frills and what her gown should look like. she didn't really have a choice in the matter. this wedding had to be perfect, to make up for her andromeda. one that she couldn't even bear to think about without wanting to burst into tears. that was why this party was so important -- why their marriage was so important. even if she had been the second choice. she took a moment to excuse herself from the women when they started speaking about children. barely out of school, and there were already so many expectations of her. she was supposed to bring the black family name back up to the honor it had been before. especially with sirius's rebellion. she blamed potter. that boy had nothing but trouble up his sleeve.

" ... one thing led to another, as it so often does --"

her brow pressed together, hearing lucius's voice through the crowd -- a horrible habit of hers even at school was able to find him and pick him through the crowds at school. bella used to tease her about her crush, and rolled her eyes when she was distraught when her parents decided to marry off andromeda to him instead. she supposed she should feel glad that she ended up being the one -- but it hurt being the second choice. narcissa's stomach twisted at the laugh that the rest of the men he'd been speaking to a few moments ago -- missing what had been said but she could only assume it was about some kind of conquest.

she suddenly didn't want to hear what he was talking about, and instead of heading the direction to fill her glass -- she moved to explore the home that she was...apparently supposed to be living in once they were married. with less noise, she was able to allow herself to think -- to stop the way her stomach flopped and to breathe so she could return to the party with the same happy mask that she had put on when in fact, she was so nervous. she found herself in the library -- fingers dancing over a few books that had been left out and looking over the different portraits and paintings that adorned the walls. she jumped when she heard his voice again, turning and looking over her shoulder.

"you should learn not to sneak up on people, lucius."

there was a tone to her voice that implied that she was unhappy with him, and she was -- even if she hadn't a right to be so.

“That was what it meant to have power, wasn't it? You could simply destroy that which didn't serve you.” (ur choice)

"That is not why I... originally sought out power." Yennefer starts with a stern voice, but it softens as she gives a bit of an admitting smile and shakes her head. The talk of sorcerers and witches and other wielders of magic of course would wind over to her history of it eventually. It isn't a history that she shares with many, only those who are close to her, and Jaskier has become one of those people.

"Four marks." Yennefer says with a sigh, leaning forward on the table and tracing a finger around her goblet of wine, violet eyes on the bard. "That is what I was sold for, what I was worth to my mother's husband as she wailed from the door and did nothing to stop Tissaia from taking me off to become a proper court sorceress for the Brotherhood."

It was so very long ago, the memory as distant as a dream fading from the mind upon wakening.

so being caught by lucius malfoy had not been part of the plan.

instead of moving to grab the prophet in her bag to carry out her initial urge and she turned to look at him -- a manicured finger reaching up to flick some of her blonde locks from her face. neat curls fall from her shoulders and cascade down her back as she really looked at him. "there's a book that i need for an assignment, and they won't let me have it. says it's too dark." if only they knew of all of the books that were at home. she supposed maybe she'd be able to ask her parents to send her something. but her words were a lie --her sister dared her to do something to step out of line. she hated breaking the rules -- she'd seen what happened when rules were broken at their home. she knew it wasn't going to be a good thing if she got detention.

bella wanted the book -- and the youngest black sister wanted to prove she wasn't the stick in the mud, perfect sister like she'd always been told she'd been.

there was a pause as hazel eyes flick along his face -- and despite how defiant she was being, her heart hammered in her chest. she didn't step out of line. maybe it was why she kept getting caught. her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

"are you going to give me detention, or help me?"

grey eyes watch as the little one comes closer. it isn't uncommon for the younger children of his friends to use him as a jungle gym (gods know he was the perfect size for them to climb.) but this is different -- gwen looked tired. grog shifts where he sat as she approaches. " hey, gwenny. " he greets, patting his lap. an invitation to rest. he used to do this with his fellow vox machina members.

gwen lays her head down on the giants lap, and grog reaches a hand down to gently stroke the top of her head. he hums a soft tune, hoping the rumbling of said humming helps her feel comfortable.

" y'have a hard day? me too. wanna nap for a little? "