Bitter, Evil Hearts [Eskel] Chapter 4
Chapter 4: The Time of Contempt, Chapter 4 [12/2022]
"They roam the land, importunate and insolent, nominating themselves the stalkers of evil, vanquishers of werewolves and exterminationators of specter's, extorting payment from the gullible and, on receipt of their ignoble earnings, moving on to dispense the same deceit in the near vicinity. The easiest access they find at cottages of honest, simple, and unwitting peasants who readily ascribe all misfortune and ill events to spells, unnatural creatures, and monsters, the doings of wind spirits or evil spirits. Instead of praying to gods, instead of bearing the witcher, the godless changeling, will turn around his fate and save him from misfortune."
----Anonymous, Monstrum, or Description of the Witcher
'Gors Velen,' Eskel commented, coming to rein in his black stallion alongside his lover. ``Remind me why we're here again?'
It took approximately 3 weeks total for the sorceress Esmeray of Carsten and Witcher Eskel to reach the city of Gors Velen from Kaer Morhen. The two could've gotten there much faster if Eskel would've just agreed to take a portal from city to city until they reached their destination- alas, just like Geralt, Eskel had an unreasonable amount of hate [or perhaps fear?] of portals. Plus, there was also the fact that Eskel was in need of work and didn't want to miss out on any possible job opportunities on the road- so the two had to go by horseback.
The city of Gors Velen itself, like most cities on this side of the continent, was surrounded by towering brick walls with sky-scraping towers to pick up from within those walls. And beyond the city was a vast grey-green sea that sparkled from the early-rising sun, freckled only a few places with the sails of merchant's vessels. Esmeray stopped her grey mare just before the sand drop that led to the city before the pair.
'We'll only be here briefly, my love,' Esmeray replied. 'Then we shall be off to Thanedd, and from there we shall attend a banquet-'
Eskel groaned.
'-at Aretuza. Stop whining. I have to attend, even if I'm taking a break from politics. Every sorceress and well-respected sorceress will be there. Think of it as my version of a yearly Kaer Morhen witcher reunion. Now, sit up, and let's continue on the road. We're simply going to be here to stop, rest for the evening, and continue on our way- and yes, you will have to wear a doublet for the banquet. Hush now, my love, I shall find one comfortable for you to wear.'
The bridge leading to Gors Velen was a long column full of wagons, horses, and even travelers on foot. And it was at this moment that Eskel remembered precisely why he hated cities. It had to have taken at least an hour before the pair moved from their spot on the bridge and for traffic to lighten up, and when they did finally reach the guard's stand post at the gate, they were promptly stopped and questioned why they were entering the city. It was all quite unnecessary, really, and Eskel didn't miss the way they looked at Esmeray and then scrunch up their nose at him.
'Not bad,' Eskel gave a compliment once they were through the gate and into the bustling city. 'Use any sort of glamours to charm them?'
'Only on my hair, love. Every sorceress has their defining feature about them in which they accentuate. For some, it's their eyes, in which they use eye shadow makeup. For others, it's their bodies, that they reveal in form-fitting attire. For me, it's my hair, which I keep long and straight and only enhances it with dyes every once in a while to keep that red you love so much. The sun, unfortunately, likes to bleach my hair blonde in the summers.'
'So explain to me what exactly this banquet at Aretuza is about again?' Eskel and Esmeray were now walking side by side, leading their horses behind them by the reins.
'It's like any other banquet. We're just supposed to show up, dress nice, and pretend like we're enjoying ourselves. It's something we sorcerers do at least once every year to show no ill will, even though half of them are plotting in some way against each other- ugh! And I used to actually enjoy going!'
Eskel smiled at this, finding it just a bit amusing.
'Right, so we'll go, stand around and be uncomfortable, drink watered-down wine, and eat very little in order to be "polite" or some shit; is that right?'
'Precisely,' Esmeray nodded with a grin of her own, 'and then we'll go back to our hotel room and have sex.'
Eskel immediately perked up at this.
'And remember, Eskel, meet me at the Narrat Inn by noon. We'll have lunch together there and then prepare for the banquet.'
Eskel understood the importance of this banquet and why Esmeray was stressing it so to him- but even still, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her. She was treating him like a child! But he, nonetheless, also nodded in understanding before exiting the tailor's store they had stopped in to make arrangements for their outfitting.
Once out of the store, Eskel was once more thrown into the throng of the city; carts rumbled past, people walked in groups, and horses and oxen trodden up and down the busy lanes. Eskel had time to himself now, at least a few hours, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he wanted to do. It had been so long since he'd last been in a city- and even then he couldn't think of anything to really do besides buy stuff and eat.
The dark-haired witcher turned down a street and then turned down another before taking a right and a left. At this point, he was just wandering aimlessly between merchant stalls, barrels, and weirdos selling goods right out of their parked cars. It was only after passing another 4 stalls did the little shop catch his eye.
It sat across the lane from him and in between two other buildings sporting the name "Frank's Chocolate's and Baked Goods," and that was all Eskel needed to see before entering.
Margarita Laux-Antille, otherwise known as "Rita," was a shapely fair-skinned woman with wild blonde curls and deep green eyes- which she usually executed by wearing green- who emerged entirely nude from the hot pool of water provided by the Inn in the bathhouse section. Ciri sat near the edge of said pool, only her legs submerged in the waters as she focused her gaze down shyly at her lap; clutching a small towel to her body. Behind Ciri, lounging across a couple of chairs were Esmeray and Yennefer.
Yennefer of Vengerberg, like what the poets described, was a beautiful woman with an ugly attitude. Yennefer was unique to most, however, because of her violet-colored eyes and long inky black hair that she often wore in curls to flow across her black clothing.
'You, girl,' Margarita called to Ciri, 'be so good as to hand me a towel. And please stop being angry with me.'
Ciri snorted but still did as she was told. After a day of dragging Eskel around to find him a proper tailor to outfit him, Esmeray had made plans to meet up with him later in the day while she met up with sorceress Margarita, Tissaia de Vries [who was a much older sorceress with neat dark brown hair that she always wore pulled back], along with Yennefer and [much to Esmeray's surprise] Ciri. Apparently, Yennefer and Ciri had been traveling with each other for some time now after Geralt sent Ciri off to the Temple of Melitele for education.
'She seems like a young seal,' Margarita jokes, drying herself off. 'And is as shapely as a naiud. Will you give her to me, Yenna?'
'That's why I brought her here,' Yennefer answered.
'Which class shall I put her in? Does she know the basics?'
'She does, but she can start at the beginning like everyone else. It won't do her any harm.'
'That would be wise,' Tissaia added. 'That would be wise indeed, Yennefer. The girl will find it easier if she begins with the other novices.'
It was then that another voice interrupted the group:
'My humble apologies, noble ladies,' it was the innkeeper calling from behind a silk screen. 'Please forgive my daring to disturb, but a certain 'Witcher Eskel '' has arrived for Madame Esmeray.'
'Very well, then,' Esmeray took a stand from her spot. 'Ladies, shall I see you later this evening?'
'Looking forward to it.'
'Yes, of course.'
'Until then, Esmeray.'
Ciri was the only one who didn't say anything, but she did look up as Esmeray passed and the red-headed sorceress threw her a sympathetic smile. Going to school at Artuza will most certainly not be easy on Ciri, especially considering her fiery personality, but with a teacher as kind as Margarita, Esmeray had hoped that she would do well.
“I have nothing against witchers. Let them hunt vampires. As long as they pay taxes.”
—Radovid lll the bold, King of Redania
The sky grew dark rather quickly after Esmeray and Eskel had returned to their privately rented room within the tavern. Esmeray stood clothed in nothing but a see-through black robe overlooking the large windows. From where she currently stood, she could see the Tower of Aretuza set in the ocean miles away.
It looks awfully menacing with the black clouds and dark angry wasters around it.
They had about 3 hours to waste before they needed to attend the banquet.
Esmeray turned to the face of the snoring witcher and chuckled softly at the sight of him all curled up and tuckered out after the festivities together. Eskel was always a bit of a cuddler, this fact was doubled after sex- it was a miracle Esmeray even managed to crawl out of the bed without him locking her in an iron grip.
A small shiver of excitement ran along the sorceress's spine as she recounted him just an hour before; gripping and squeezing her ass as he drove himself into her- and oh gods how he felt inside of her! The witcher could make her cum for hours on end, the mere memory just makes her wanna bind his wrists to the bedframe and ride him all night.
Before meeting Eskel, sex had mattered very little to the sorceress. She had had her fun and even been involved in a couple of scandalous relationships- mainly one being the one she had with Philippa Eilheart- but sex was never a priority for the woman. It still wasn’t, but Eskel always managed to ignite a primal flare within her that she just couldn’t help but dance to.
Eskel wasn’t a particularly kinky person, per se, he mostly enjoyed positions in which he could see her face. But it was the endurance of the act of sex that Esmeray most enjoyed when doing it with Eskel.
From the moment the two began fucking, he never once treated her as something replaceable.
Esmeray was startled when one of the witcher’s yellow cat-like eye’s popped open to stare at her. She jumped at the sight of- just how long had she been staring at him?
Eskel’s scared lips curved up into a smile as he let out a breathy laugh- half-muffled by the pillow his face was buried into.
‘Are you just going to keep watching me or are you going to come over here and join me?’
Esmeray shot her lover a cheeky look before silently making her way toward the bed all the while allowing her thin robe to slide off of her slender body. Eskel let out a sigh at the sight of her pale freckled chest and rolled over so that he was watching her on his back. In doing so the blanket slipped down to just above his groin.
‘Do you witchers ever truly tire from sex?’ Esmeray said as she eyed the growing tent Eskel’s cock was creating with the sheets.
‘With you, darling, never.’ Eskel shot her a wink as his smile widened.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Esmeray muttered before laying her naked body halfway across his own- positioning her upper body to meet with his middle before pulling down the blanket and giving his cock access to spring fully to life.
Esmeray’s delicate lips made contact with Eskel’s ball’s in a nipping kiss, causing the Witcher’s hips to twitch up, but once the woman rapped her fingers around his length- Eskel couldn’t help but throw his head back onto the pillows.
Typically, Eskel much preferred being on the giving end rather than the receiving one- but over the years of being with Esmeray, despite their long break-up, he had learned very quickly that it was better to let her have her way with him first before she allowed him to have his.
So, confined to the fate he had agreed upon, the witcher allowed himself to lean back and watch his partner do some dirty work- only taking control of the situation once he got fed up with her constant teasing… Which wasn’t long after.
Not in any sort of forceful way, Eskel gripped the back of Esmeray’s head by wrapping his fist up with the tail of her long braid and guiding her movement down on his perked cock. Esmeray didn’t fight the change in power and allowed the witcher to sheath himself in her mouth before pulling her back up slightly by her hair before the process recycled once more.
Oral wasn’t Esmeray’s strong suit, she was willing to admit- her gag reflex was all too sensitive, but she managed to cope by gripping Eskel’s slightly hairy thighs as he stretched her throat- and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little aroused by the pull of her hair.
The moment only lasted for so long, however, as Eskel pulled her up and completely off his cock and pushed her down onto the bed before guiding his length to her awaiting core. Now, this was his favorite part.
Then the soothsayer spoke thus to the witcher: ‘This counsel I shall give you: don hobnailed boots and take an iron staff. Walk in your hobnailed boots to the end of the world, tap the road in front of you with the staff and let your tears fall. Go through fire and water, do not stop, do not look back. And when your boots are worn out, when your iron staff is worn down, when the wind and the sun have dried your eyes such that not a single tear will fall from them, then you will find what you are searching for, what you love, at the end of the world. Perhaps!
And the witcher walked through fire and water, never looking back. But he took neither hobnailed boots nor a staff. He took only his witcher's swords. He obeyed not the words of the soothsayer. And rightly so, for she was wicked.
—Florence Delannoy, Tales and Legends
Eskel had nearly forgotten about what it was like going to a banquet with Esmeray, and just how truly miserable it all really was.
The servants never put out enough wine, it seemed, for Eskel to ever get truly drunk on- and whatever wine they did have was always watered down, as well as the food being small bite-sized pieces of bread or crackers with some sort of meat or cheese on top. So even if he wanted to, Eskel could never really pig out.
There also never seem to be enough chairs about for everyone to have a seat. On the other hand, there never seemed to be a shortage of stares.
Still, Eskel had agreed to attend this night with Esmeray, and he wasn’t about to back out of his promise now- even if the velvet red doublet he wore made him sweat his balls off and the ruffled white collar was itchy.
Esmeray, naturally, was the one to pick out their garments for the evening- but it was ultimately Eskel’s own fault for what he currently wore as he had complained that the original doublet she had tried to get him to wear made him look like a Nilfgaardian, so they had settled on the frilly red one.
Esmeray also wore red though her gown lacked the dramatic flair that Eskel’s doublet held.
Aretuza was like a palace with its huge central hall and ‘T’ shaped structure- it was a wonder that he and Esmeray weren’t staying overnight in this place. But maybe that was the point in all this; to pop in and say hello before disappearing altogether.
The longest side of the central hall, one that he and Esmeray found themselves walking through with their arms linked, had extremely tall and narrow windows reaching almost to the ceiling. The ceiling of the entire place was also far too high for Eskel’s liking and more often than not Esmeray would gently slap his chest to make him look forward again.
It wasn’t until Eskel caught the familiar sight of Geralt and a woman he could only assume to be Yennefer did he actually start paying attention to anything.
The couple was currently engaging in a conversation with a couple of other sorceresses- one of which Eskel recognized to be Sabrina Glevissig. Her hair hadn’t changed, or her pin-striped style from when he’d last seen her.
‘Esmeray! Oh, darling! It has been ages!’
Eskel cringed at the call of Sabrina but compliantly followed his mistress over to the group.
At least Geralt was there.
The enchantresses all began embracing one another and kissing one another by the ear on either side of the head before immediately indulging in conversation.
‘I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again, Esmeray, especially after that whole ordeal at Kear Morhen,’ Sabrina stated- obviously referring to the situation with Eskel’s “child surprise.”
He tried not to think about that. He knew sorceresses could read his mind and he had no doubt that’s what they were doing- but he didn’t want to think about what happened or remember the events of the day. The day he was betrayed and horribly mutilated. So instead he thought about Esmeray, and all the dirty things she had done to him just before attending this banquet.
He remembered the way she looked with his cock stuffed in her mouth and how he controlled the pacing and rhythm by pulling on her braid. And he thought about all the things he wanted to do to her right now and what he planned to do when they left the banquet.
As these thoughts and memories bounced around in his mind- he thought he caught sight of Sabrina Glevissig’s cheeks reddening.
A bubble of nervousness and anxiety began to build and well up within the pit of Esmeray’s stomach once she spotted Philippa Eilhart, and this nervousness nearly ruptured into a fart once the dark-haired sorceress had begun to approach.
She knew that she would be here and sooner or later they’d have to speak with one another- still, Esmeray felt that this moment came all too quickly.
Esmeray had left Eskel’s side to meet Philippa halfway- but the witcher hardly noticed a thing as he was soon accompanied by Dijkstra [a Redanian spy] and once more, Geralt.
‘How lovely to see you, my dear,’ Philippa greeted with a kiss on the corner of Esmeray’s mouth. Esmeray returned the kiss. ‘I see my dear Dijkstra is already making merry with your date- and oh! What an interesting date he is. Sabrina was all too eager to tell me all about her encounter with you and him up at Kaer Morhen some years ago.’
‘Sabrina is a fucking cod-headed bitch. Besides, have you seen what she’s wearing? Pin-stripes have gone out of fashion ages ago!’ Philippa let out a laugh at Esmeray’s remark. A genuine laugh. ‘But I am glad to see you again, Phil. Truly. The way we left things…’
‘Hush now, my dear. It’s a joy for me to see you again too. Let’s leave it at that and enjoy the evening.’
Philippa wasn’t the only familiar face that Esmeray had run into that night. Besides Yennefer of Sabrina, Esmeray had a chat with Triss and then later on with Francesca Findabair and Keira Metz, as well as with Ida Emean acp Sirrey.
Ida and Francesca were elven sorceresses and therefore didn’t hold as much of an interest in human politics as Keira Metz did- but it was enlightening nonetheless to speak to them.
When the evening had begun to wade and Esmeray found Eskel once more bored out of his mind, the sorceress had elected that they leave and retire to the Inn for the evening. Eskel was all too thrilled by this notion.
Eskel tugged Esmeray along with himself as he barged into their shared room rented out at the Inn before shutting the door behind himself loudly.
Inhaling the stale air around him, Eskel could still smell the sex they had left behind for the banquet. It was time to fix that.
Eskel eagerly kissed way up Esmeray’s bosom and to her lips. Hands were on her body before she even knew it.
Esmeray moaned in response to the attention as she reached behind herself to unlace the ribbon holding her dress up.
‘Thank the Gods,’ Eskel sighed as the dress fell away. He trailed his hands down her nude body as she led him backward and onto the bed. When they reached the bed, sloppy kisses were ordered to run down her chest and abdomen.
Eskel’s yellow eyes focused on her dreamily as he lowered his mouth to her core. She hadn’t been wearing underwear, the little mink. Eskel’s mouth drank her in like she was Est Est Tousiant wine, his tongue lapping at her folds eagerly.
Esmeray closed her eyes, leaned back, and moaned loudly while her fingers combed through his hair.
Eskel only pulled back to rid himself of the doublet and unbuckled his trousers before lining himself up with her entrance.
He was careful in rolling his hips into hers, making the beads of sweat glisten in the firelight and roll their way down her small breasts and listening to her sounds of pleasure.
‘I want to hear you, my dear,’ he groaned, pumping himself into her faster. His hips jutted against her with short gaps and grunts.
He was getting sloppy, which meant he was getting close. Esmeray reasoned her fingers up to brush away his bangs. Eskel’s eye’s opened up in silent confusion and shock, but the sorceress simply guided his lips down onto hers.
‘I fear for Ciri,’ Eskel began after an hour of silence the two peacefully shared together not long after sex.
‘Ciri is young, barely a teenager. Her future is undecided just as her pastis is filled with misfortune. But she’s a strong girl, smart too. She’ll be fine whatever comes her way.’
This easied whatever worried Eskel held. Still, he could not help but to doubt Esmeray’s words- the ones in regard to Ciri’s wellbeing, of course.
At the conclave, Herald had gone off and had a conversation with a wizard by the name of Vilgefortz. The two were gone a long time, leaving Eskel at the mercy of Dijkstra; but when Geralt returned from where ever it was the wizard had taken him… he seemed disturbed and wouldn’t answer any of Eskel’s questions.
Eskel couldn’t explain how, but he felt like something was about to happen- and one way or another, it would have something to do with Ciri.
This is the last chapter of this series that I will be publishing on here (for now), please consider following updates on this story here:
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I’ve been seeing your other Eskel headcanons and I’m??? In love?? You characterize him very accurately. So ★ ☾ ☼☠️ please and thanks
aaahhhh that is seriously the best compliment! sorry this took a while :/
★ - sad headcanon
☾ - sleep headcanon
☼ - appearance headcanon
☠ - angry/violent headcanon
list
sad headcanon
eskel is definitely not the most emotionally mature man on the continent, but he is a lot better than his brothers
when he's sad or in grief, he usually tries to process it
key word being tries, he doesn't always succeed.
on the outside, this looks like him withdrawing from the world and shutting down. he's really just existing in his own mind to try and unpack the emotions he never really let himself feel when he was younger
unfortunately, this makes him a pretty bad resource for his brothers, especially if it's something that affected all three of them
it's not that he doesn't want to help them, he does, he just can't until he's sorted out his own grief first
for all his own emotional capacity, he's not very good at dealing with the emotions of others
he won't make a joke to try and break the tension like lambert, but he struggles to talk it out as well
his main strategy is just being there and making sure that whoever is in pain knows they have him to count on
one of deidre's wolves had a baby that was killed by a harpy, and she was absolutely destroyed for days. eskel was deeply uncomfortable, he didn't really know what to do with a crying teenager, much less if that teenager is someone as unattached as deidre.
so, he carved a little wolf paw on a rock and buried the body under it. it was clear that deidre and geralt and lambert and vesemir all thought the funeral was a bit juvenile, or rather wanted eskel to think they thought the funeral was juvenile.
there definitely wasn't enough smoke for all of their eyes to be watering.
however, eskel does kind of think of grief as having a clock
if he is still sad for more than a week, he'll just push the emotions away because life must go on.
of course, if he knew anyone else had that idea he'd want to sit them down and get them to talk it through, even if in his own awkward way.
sleep headcanon
the path requires eskel to wake up alert and ready, which he can do, he just doesn't want to
but when he's at kaer morhen, he easily sleeps more than any of his brothers
lambert wakes up the latest, but that's because he has the sleep schedule of a two month old baby
eskel cannot sleep without a set schedule
asleep at 11 and awake at 6 or he will not get any rest at all
geralt and lambert thinks it's weird
vesemir thinks it's an example for the other two hooligans to follow
he doesn't dream much
has one recurring dream where he can fly, but he can't go more than a metre off the ground and needs to stay horizontal
snores
loudly
lambert hates it. he's tried to smother eskel with his pillow a few times
like basically all witchers, eskel sleeps Hot
but, he always keeps a fire on in his room at kaer morhen
he might have a super high metabolism, but lil bleater doesn't and she shouldn't need to shiver damniit!
and don't dare tell him to just let the goat sleep outside
he will sweat and be so uncomfortable but thinking about lil bleater being lonely... way worse
so,,, he sometimes sleeps nakey
once lambert came in eskel's room without knocking and was "scarred for fucking life you disgusting pervert! what the fuck is wrong with just putting on some pants?!! it's not like you even have anything to show off! what the fuck is wrong with this fucking castle?!"
appearance headcanon
as a surprise to literally no one, eskel is very conscious of his appearance
he hates drawing attention to himself and usually wears the plainest clothes possible
he even tries not to show emotion in public
it gets to the point where he hates going out with his brothers, cause if anyone's going to cause a drunken scene... it's definitely lambert
even before he had his scar, he tried to avoid being the centre of attention. it's just not his style.
the thing about eskel's scar is not that he feels it "ruined" his looks, but that it made him noticeable.
eskel is, however, quite proud of his hair
he took care of a foglet problem near maribor, but the woman who hired him didn't have the money to pay. she did, however, give him a special blend of rosemary, bear fat, and tea tree that makes his hair "luscious as a lion's mane!", according to dandelion.
lambert can mock, but eskel's hair is very soft and healthy for a witcher
of his brothers, he is definitely the most fashion-forward
of course, the bar is literally a line of tape on the floor
but still
geralt owns like three items of clothing that he refuses to replace and lambert just buys whatever's cheapest or will piss vesemir off the most
eskel knows the colour scheme that works for him (dark reds) and works it pretty well
he HATES dressing nice
possibly even more than geralt, who just thinks parties are boring and fancy doublets are uncomfortable
whenever eskel goes anywhere fancy, he feels that he sticks out like a sore thumb
which isn't inaccurate
the idea of countless people looking at him and noticing him is literal torture
angry/violent headcanon
eskel is fairly level headed, and even when he's angry he is very very hesitant to act on it
initially, he just didn't want to stir up any shit with his brothers. if he got mad at geralt and smacked him in the head, vesemir would beat both their asses.
it kind of turned into a fear of unconsciously hurting someone after ciri and deidre came to kaer morhen
especially with deidre, who was so used to receiving violence as a reaction to nearly everything she did
one time she accidentally spilled some hot tea on eskel's arm, as soon as he raised his voice to tell her to get a towel she immediately prepared for an attack
he felt awful
after that, he never yelled around deidre again. not when he got his scar, not when her wolves ate his favourite food, not even when he was just mad at geralt and lambert
if eskel needed to scream at his brothers, deidre shouldn't need to hear it
surprisingly, the two idiots were actually really good at honouring that rule
it also made eskel a lot better prepared when ciri came
he knows he's intimidating, and understands how that could come across to a 12 year old who just saw her family murdered
but...
if there is a time and place for violence, eskel will not hold back
that time and place is almost always when someone threatens his family
he gets a bit scared that he will lose himself in his rage and end up accidentally causing more problems than he solved
however, this pales in comparison to the fear of one of his loved ones being hurt because he couldn't protect them
ok i'm making myself sad
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