#eskel x bard

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 71

The other witchers at Kaer Morhen have always grown tired of Geralt's random moodswings and bouts of gloom and grumpiness during the winter. He'd be happy and carefree, safe in his home, and then some dark thought would crest in his mind, and for a few days straight, he'd be in a horrible mood. When one year he brings his bard with him, they realize the moodswings have disappeared completely. That is, until Jaskier starts trying to "bond" with them all and spends less time with Geralt. Then all of a sudden the snarls and snaps from Geralt are back. One day, Lambert gets tired of Geralt's sass, and shoves Jaskier at him, and they're all amazed when Geralt loses his bad mood and instead chooses to carry his bard off to cuddle in front of the fireplace. Nuzzling him and purring the whole time. Thus commences a new rule of Kaer Morhen. If you spot Geralt being pissy, you chuck the bard at him. Jaskier has been taken away from a meal, a game of gwent, his chores, his bed while asleep, and one especially embarrassing time he was taken from a bath. Jaskier is quite alright with the new rule, as it always ends in deligthtful Geralt cuddles, but sometimes he wishes Geralt would just find Jaskier instead of moping when he misses him.

[incorrect-quotes-at-random]

Eskel: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Geralt: I'm a knife.

Jaskier, from across the room: He's the little spoon.

[0dde11eth]

@endiness created this delightful photo set

It's the perfect embodiment of jaskier walking out of kaer morhens hot springs, he just had mind blowing sex with eskel and is CELEBRATING

[elythegardeningbard]

Caught in the wolves' den

[spilledbutter]

shining in your light (a knight, my love, a knight)

Summary: Jaskier's days as a single man are numbered. With family obligations knocking at the door and no escape in sight, he knows he will soon be forced to marry.

Things are further complicated when he meets a beautiful, brown-haired witcher by chance in a tavern one night.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 3k+ | CW: coarse language, implied sex

--

A (very) belated Witcher Writers Winter Gift Exchange 2022 (@witcherficwriters) fill for @matrixfairy! I hope you enjoy, friendo, and sorry it's so late!

Also on AO3! I anticipate at least two more chapters, if not three, to finish everything up.

--

When he was younger, Jaskier imagined life to be a fairytale.

Grand adventures, beasts to be slain, and knights in shining armor. 

“Yeeugh,” the man groaned out from the tavern floor where he’d stumbled before him, covered in mud and smelling of horse dung. 

Real life never was quite like he imagined it would be.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright?” Jaskier’s hands fluttered uselessly in front of him, wanting to help but not quite sure if the other man was injured. He hastily put aside his tankard of ale and lute. 

“Sir? Can I help you with anything?” He called when he received no reply. It took a moment, but the man finally raised his head, turning surprisingly keen, golden eyes on Jaskier. He’d thought he was dealing with a drunkard.

He knew he should feel exposed, perhaps intimidated, under such a sharp gaze. Jaskier had never been prone to the reactions of normal people, however, so he felt nothing of the sort.

Surprisingly, he only felt warm, heat pricking his collar. 

Warmer still, as he took notice of the strong jaw, full lips, and long lashes cradling those honeyed irises. His eyes scanned over a set of broad shoulders, topping off a barrel chest, and what he was sure were delectable abs underneath a ruby-colored gambeson. 

Covered in mud he may be, but a pig he was not. 

“You talkin’ to me, pretty thing?” The rumbling, rich baritone shook him out of his stupor. Jaskier planted a charming grin on his face, casually running his hand over his chin in a thoughtful pose to check for drool. Gods above.

“Ah, but the man does speak! Are you sure you’re alright?”

The other man sat up, leaning against the wall. “Just peachy,” he grunted, leaning his elbows on his knees. “No need to worry, pretty thing. My kind are made for a bit of wear and tear.”

Shit. And a smile meant to break a man’s heart, to boot. 

Well. Jaskier had never been one to resist a pretty face.

“Can I help you? Buy you an ale, maybe?”

The grin turned devilish, topaz eyes shimmering with mischief. “Aye, and a bowl of stew if you’re going to bed me,” he winked. “Probably need the energy. You seem like a wild one.” 

Jaskier flushed, shocked and pleased all in one. He returned the wink with a provocative smile of his own. “A gentleman never tells, my dear.”

He held out a hand. A little flirtation did not an acquaintance make. Jaskier was no fool, either.

Two swords on his back. Heavy traveling cloak, worn at the hem and tattered. Scarring on his face and forearms - from some beast or other, no doubt. 

A witcher. Very interesting indeed.

Those discerning eyes stared him down, assessing, before seeming to make a decision. A strong hand clasped Jaskier’s own.

He pulled the other man up with only a little effort and noted the surprise on the witcher’s face. He felt no small amount of pride. He didn’t have a witcher’s bulk, but he wasn’t a small man by any means.

Now that he was standing, Jaskier took full stock of the other man’s form. His new friend had about three inches on him and at least a hundred pounds. Jaskier felt a pleasant tingle run down his spine. It was rare he met a delicious man like this on accident.

“Jaskier,” he announced in his most imperious voice with a courtly, sweeping bow. “At your service.” 

The other man quirked his lips, amused. “Eskel.”

Jaskier felt giddy. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Eskel. I believe I promised you an ale?”

That lovely half-smile doubled in size. “Aye. I believe you did.” 

###

There wasn’t much talking after they went upstairs. Jaskier’s rented room was small, the bed smaller, but it would do the job. 

“Darling,” Jaskier purred once the door was shut, “That armor is quite dashing, but I have to say you’re a tad overdressed.” 

Eskel’s warm body pressed against his with a mouthwatering pressure. With the wall at his back and the absolute boulder of a man at his front, he’d never felt happier about being cornered. A rough hand grasped his jaw, calloused thumb brushing against his bottom lip.

“Pretty words from a pretty mouth,” Eskel rumbled in his deep baritone. Golden eyes bored into Jaskier’s own, pinning him with their intensity. “D’you sing just as sweetly?”

Jaskier smirked wolfishly, wrapping his arms firmly around Eskel’s neck. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”

A husky chuckle, followed by a throaty moan. And then the night was silent.

###

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open, moonlight filtering through the tiny inn window. 

He quietly took stock of the pleasant soreness in his limbs, aches in places which meant he’d had a very good night indeed. It took a few moments for him to become aware of the hard chest beneath his ear, carpeted with smattering of dark hair.

He came fully into awareness, remembering his night with Eskel and feeling a goofy smile bloom across his face. He was almost too comfortable using the witcher as a pillow. He would be perfectly content to lounge around until Eskel woke up. Maybe convince him to go for another round… But loathe as he was to move, he knew he needed to get back home.

As quietly as possible, he disentangled himself from the body below him. He dressed in silence, distinctly aware of every swish and rustle of fabric making their way to sharp witcher ears. He put on just enough clothing to be decent for the trek back, not wanting to delay any further.

Jaskier looked back at the man on the bed. He truly had the body of a god, looked absolutely delectable with a sheet just barely covering his exquisite cock. Blessedly, he’d had the skills in bed to match, which Jaskier was quite thankful for.

He looked oddly vulnerable, soft brown curls falling into his eyes and face lax with sleep. The moon’s rays danced across his striking features and made his tanned skin glow. He was the picture of inviting.

He was beautiful. It was a shame this was only for a night.

“May our paths cross again, Eskel,” he spoke softly.

Jaskier slipped out the door, unaware of the witcher watching him leave.

###

His nightly outings were becoming more common the closer he got to his impending doom. Since he’d passed his twenty-first birthday, Jaskier knew he was living on borrowed time. He knew his father would make things as unpleasant as possible.

Men of the Pankratz family were honor-bound to marry by the end of their twenty-first year. If they had not made a match by this time, a match would be arranged for them by the head of the household. The legend (or so he was told, although it all sounded like horse shit) went that were this rule not met, a curse would befall their house and lands, blighting all who lived within them. 

Or something. He’d never really paid attention during his governess’s lessons, dreadfully boring woman that she was.

But he was damned sure everyone in his house believed in the legend. Without a doubt, he’d be turned out on his ass for the first respectable gentleperson that came calling for him. He was under no illusions that his father had his best interests at heart–far from it, in fact. The sooner they’d be rid of him, the better.

Nothing like a parent’s love, eh?

He bitterly chuckled to himself as he stepped into the shadowed gardens below his quarters. Right turn at the archway. Left at the lavender bushes. Two steps and a hop across the charming little pond with the frogs he’d played with as a child. Now just a shimmy up the trellis to his open window and he’d be home free. 

He should really look into doing this professionally. He’d make an excellent spy.

Jaskier crested the windowsill, feet on the warmed stone floors. The embers of the fire were still hot in the hearth, no doubt stoked by his diligent valet. let out a yawn, feeling his eyes start to droop. 

“I imagine I’d be tired too, after an acrobatics routine like that.”

He jumped about a foot in the air. He did not shriek, thank you very much.

“Jana, you witch!” He hissed, blue eyes blazing. “Perhaps I should put a bell on you!”

She smirked, green eyes glinting maliciously. “And where would be the fun in that?” 

She was the devil incarnate. Evil in the flesh. He loved her to pieces.

“Sister dear,” he hummed, stepping towards his wardrobe. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just checking on my dearest Julek. Thought you might be tossing and turning tonight, is all.”

Jaskier squinted at her before turning back to his clothes. He grabbed a nightshirt and stepped behind the changing screen. “And why ever would I be restless?”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was laughing at him. “Just a… feeling I had.”

He quickly stepped out from behind the screen, more comfortable now in his loose night clothes. He stepped towards the basin to wash his face. Jana was sitting primly on the bench, legs crossed daintily, looking serene as ever. 

Something was definitely wrong.

“Oh?” He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of true curiosity. She was unbearably smug about this little talent of hers.

She got like this, sometimes. Jana was prone to feelings—no one in their family called them premonitions, per se, but it was hard to find a different word to describe them. Sometimes it was small things, like an unexpected change in the weather, but there were other times, too–like when she’d gotten a bad feeling about Aunt Margot’s cold, and she’d passed within a fortnight.

Jana hummed, noncommittal, and tossed her long, chocolate locks over her shoulder. “Something is going to happen tomorrow. Something big. And it concerns you, brother dearest.” 

Jaskier didn’t respond, mind racing. He schooled his features, maintaining the indifferent mask he’d learned as a son of the peerage. The tournament tomorrow was for the benefit of the Pankratz House. It didn’t, however, directly impact Jaskier in any notable way–not more than it would impact them all.

“We shall see, I suppose. Now, if you don’t mind,” he pointedly shuffled towards his bed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he passed. “I need my beauty rest.” 

He’d turned down the covers and was just about to snuff the light when Jana approached him, ruffling his hair. He huffed. She turned away toward the door with a smile.

“Indeed we shall, little brother. Tomorrow.”

###

The morning dawned bright, trumpets and birdsong intermingling with the fresh dew. The sunlight was dappled through the trees in the clearing and the air smelled of late spring blossoms.

It was far too fine a day for such nonsense.

“Hark! Hear ye, hear ye! On this day commences the Tournament of Koselig, attended only by the most honorable of knights and lords!”

The opening speeches were always dull as watching paint dry. The Pankratz family was seated in the box with the best view of the action at the head of the field. He was expected to smile and nod as the competitors passed their box, acknowledging the brave souls fighting and potentially losing life and limb. All for the sake of their entertainment–and today, the dubious honor of ruling the shittiest parcel in the province.

It made him sick, to be honest. 

“You don’t suppose we could slip out after the announcements, do you? I’m sure Vincent could be convinced to cover for us with the right motivation.” He winked at Jana, earning a giggle in return.

“You know we can’t, Julek. Besides–I really do have a good feeling about today. Something important is going to happen, I just know it.” 

Her feelings were not to be dismissed. It was sure to be an eventful day, for one reason or another. He just hoped it wasn’t at his expense.

“Jana, Julian, do be quiet. Where are your manners?” His mother tutted, one elegant brow arched. She was the spitting image of his sister, with a few more lines around her eyes and streaks of gray through her hair.

“Apologies, mother. I seem to have forgotten my patience today,” Jaskier smiled sweetly. “Must these things be so terribly tedious?”

“It would do you well to watch your tongue, Julian. Comes with the territory. A Viscount is expected to behave and attend events such as this.”

“Only a Viscount in name, father. Don’t you worry–you’ll never have to bless me with more responsibility than that with our dear Jana here.”

The tension between father and son was palpable. Jana discretely squeezed his hand in support. 

Jaskier’s relationship with his father had never been the greatest, but they had reached an all-time low recently. He felt like he was on a tightrope, closer and closer to falling to the brink as each day passed. Who–or what–his father had in store for him was a great source of anxiety. And two of them weren’t exactly the types to have heart-to-heart chats, so his fate would inevitably be a surprise. Joy of joys.

In other circumstances, he’d be filling the gaping pit of anxiety with a glass of wine and a warm body, but alas. Duty called, as his father liked to remind him.

“We have the honor of being hosted today by the esteemed Pankratz family: the Earl Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Maria Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Jana Pankratz of Lettenhove, and Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove,” the herald carried on. “The knights and lords present will compete today for the honor of overseeing one of his Lordship’s properties in Hygge, a parcel of land which…”

Jaskier found his attention drifting beyond the stands, the announcements a tiresome buzzing in the background. From the looks of it, every person in the city of Koselig had turned out for the event, and probably the neighboring cities too. They were practically giving away a prize today, wrapped up in a neat, entertaining package and decorated with a ball. It was no wonder it looked like the entirety of coastal Redania had arrived on their front lawn. 

He wasn’t surprised. His parents were well-liked for their fair ruling of the lands they controlled, but they were equally liked for the lavish parties they liked to throw. It wasn’t all a front, but every event, gift, and act of service was part of a carefully calculated plan to keep the populace happy and maintain appearances.

His mother, for all that she was kind, was incredibly shrewd and good with people. She knew what would keep them happiest (and what would shut them up). His father was a strict man, committed to the principles of duty and obedience. At the same time, he wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate a situation in his favor. Jaskier loved them, but he didn’t always like them.

Hygge was a sizeable estate just shy of a week’s ride north of Jaskier’s home in Koselig. Its accompanying village was full of fishermen and farmers alike, with the coast nearby and plenty of fertile land to till. The former Lord who’d ruled over the property for the last twenty years had died two months prior. Rather unfortunately for everyone, he passed without an heir. Even more unfortunately, he had done a poor job managing things in the last five years. Much work would need to be done by the new proprietor.

His parents needed someone to manage the property and township. Jana, as heir to their family estate, had been assisting with the property in the months since the former Lord’s passing. This obviously wasn’t a long-term solution as she would take over in Koselig one day.

They had decided to select a new proprietor, ideally a knight looking to settle down or a lower member of the peerage without many responsibilities. And because his mother had a flair for dramatics, what better way to find someone willing than a tournament?

It was great marketing, he had to hand it to her. Undoubtedly, they would find someone today.

“Gentlemen! Please present yourself to the venerable Pankratz family!”

Jaskier put on his most polite and courtly smile for the introductions. One by one, the assembled lords and knights stepped up to the box. There was a Lord Valdo from Cidaris who seemed utterly obnoxious–-gods, he hoped he didn’t win. A knight from Roggeveen with a peculiar mustache. Another Lord So-and-So from Denesle who sounded absolutely drunk off his ass—that would make for a good show. 

He almost fell out of his chair when he spotted a familiar red gambeson and mop of brown hair. Flashes of last night sent a rush of blood to a very unfortunate place as he locked gazes with a familiar pair of golden eyes. 

Their bodies meeting in an intimate embrace. Eskel’s calloused hands gripping his hips tightly. Deep, rumbling groans as Jaskier rode him. The insatiable desire for more. And afterward, those same work-worn hands stroking soothingly down his back. Sweaty bangs tenderly brushed off his forehead. A gentle hand cleaning him up with a rough-hewn cloth. A handsome face, enhanced by scars, relaxed and sated in sleep.

Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Eskel dipped into a formal bow. “Sir Eskel, Witcher of the Wolf School.” 

“Ha!” His father burst out, with great amusement. “A witcher, competing in my tournament! Surely you can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly so, my Lord,” Eskel’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes cool. Despite this, he gave no outward signs of annoyance, his posture remaining relaxed and easy. 

“Oh?” His father raised an imperious brow. “And do you meet the entry requirements? One must be an established member of the peerage or a knight to compete. This isn’t a tournament for just anyone.”

“How fortunate, then,” Eskel drawled, “that I am knighted. His Royal Highness, Windhalm of Attre, knighted me four summers ago. Dealt with a rotfiend problem he was having, nasty business.”

Alfred did not say a word, but one look at his face said enough about his frustration. Eskel paid no mind.

“Convenient as well that he granted me the title Baronet of Attre, as a personal honor for my services. Still a peasant at heart and in title, but the words are pretty, yeah?”

Eskel rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a seemingly bashful gesture. “Aye, a shame I turned the land down at the time. After all, a witcher? A proprietor? Can’t be serious.” He gave a deep belly laugh at the thought, throwing his head back. “Changed my mind, though. I’ve rather come to like the idea of settling down.” 

The tension could be cut with a knife. Jaskier, his sister, his mother–hell, even the herald–all waited, staring at Alfred in suspense.

“Well then, my Lord? Do I pass the test?” The witcher gave a winning smile, the epitome of mannerly but possessing an air of cold detachment Jaskier knew his father detested. It was the same persona his father used at court.

Color crept up Alfred’s collar. Jaskier could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He hid a smile behind his hand, biting his lip. Entertainment, indeed.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, Sir Eskel of the Wolf School, Baronet de Attre, it certainly seems you do. We look forward to seeing you… compete.” Alfred gave a stiff and reluctant nod, dismissing him. The moment was over.

Or, well, Jaskier thought it was.

Eskel gave his family another formal bow. His eyes met Jaskier’s with intention as he rose back to his full height. Jaskier felt his breath catch in his throat as gold met blue. 

There was something there, in his gaze. A heat–not the burning kind, no, but something pleasant. Like hot cider on a winter’s night. Like a fire to warm cold bones--or an aching heart. Jaskier felt a shiver down his spine.

He felt trapped in that stare, unable to look away. He gave a coquettish smile, unable to resist his natural flirtation even for a moment, particularly with the witcher. Eskel gave a charming, boyish grin back, inclining his head deeply before turning away.

And oh, what a lovely sight he made. Although his trousers really did look better off…

“What the hell was that?” Jana hissed into his ear, breaking the spell Jaskier had fallen under.

“What was what?” Jaskier asked in his best attempt at innocence, rubbing sweaty palms against his knees. 

“You know what. Do you know him?” 

“We may have met before - hard to say, I meet a lot of people.”

Jana scoffed, pushing against his shoulder with her own at his non-answer. Jaskier laughed, fondly, and turned his attention back to the field.

Neither of them noticed Alfred’s piercing stare as he eyed them with suspicion.

(1/3)

[islenthatur]

Jaskier smiled softly, hands idly twisting and braiding the hair before him with gentle nimble fingers, savoring the texture and feel as well as the soft purr that filled the room.

It was exactly what Jaskier needed after a stressful day.

"Is this alright Dearest?" He murmurs softly, fingers dropping from the braid, to run smoothly over broad shoulders to rest upon a slow beating heart of a Witcher.

"Yes," it was soft, no louder than a breath and Jaskier thanked his classically trained ears to hear it.

He has spent nearly all winter to get to this point, to have a pliant witcher in his tender loving hands. Goddess, he loved to care for them, for him, to ease their stress and burdens... it was an addiction.

"Thank you Dearheart, I appreciate you allowing me this." Jaskier purred and leant forward, capturing his witcher's lips with his own, his other hand cupping the scarred cheek with loving care.

"Jask," The name fell from his Witcher's lips like a prayer that sent a jolt of pleasure through the bard.

"Eskel."

[dapandapod]

Toss a phone at your bard

HELLO my darlings.

So I am slowly working through my wip hoard and today it was decided it was time for Jaskel. Thank you Kei and Jamie. Let it be known, I have used Instagram like twice, but I am known to throw my phone across the room if something unexpected (usually positive) happens, so that is firmly anchored to reality. Please enjoy my silly boys having a time <3

On Ao3 here

Medieval festivals are amazing. Swords, jugglers, tournaments, handcrafts, historical clothing, they got it all. Depending on which one you go to, that is. This one ticks a lot of boxes, especially on the hand craft market.

  Triss, Aiden and Essi had spent the past three weeks crafting their clothing, needling Jaskier's sleep-deprived student ass into joining them. On the condition that he could be That Guy, and play a medieval version of Wonderwall on his ukulele.

Because as cool as a lute is, they are fucking expensive, and hard to play at that. Jaskier knows, he tried.

Puffy sleeves and a scandalizingly open tunic really completes his look, and he enjoys all the looks the crowds are sending him. 

Well. His group, because they look fucking excellent, but he is a part of the group, so it counts. 

Aiden has dressed as a soldier, Essi as a historical crafting student has spent so much time on Triss' dress, and she looks every part a queen, save for the jewelry. Essi herself is dressed in a more modest dress, but no the less stunning with the attention to detail around her sleeves.

Yeah. They look awesome.

As they walk the area, they find so many crafts. Many of the stalls offer hand casted candles, even more offering lanterns and jugs, and where Aiden came to a stop, hand crafted wooden figurines.

Turns out Aiden knows one of the two standing there, the shorter, armored and rather angry looking Lambert. But no matter the scowling, there is no mistaking the spark between them. Lambert barely sees the rest of the group, eyes peeled on Aiden. It's cute, and Jaskier is happy for them, even if a pang of loneliness aches in him.

That is when Jaskier's eyes land on the other person by the stall.

How Jaskier didn't see him immediately is beyond him, because, wow. Belatedly Jaskier realizes he needs to close his mouth, as he feels Essi's elbow against his side. He looks away quickly, glad that the man didn't notice.

"You good?" She asks teasingly, and damn, Jaskier could *kick* her.

"Tired." Jaskier excuses himself, because he is. That's what you get when you are awake past 3am, staring at the ceiling.

Essi knocks her shoulder to his in sympathy, she knows of his struggles, and does her best to help him.

"Did you watch the video I sent?"

"Three times."

"Aw."

"Insomnia still kicking your ass?" Triss asks as she picks up a little wooden trinket. "Oh, this is cute."

This finally grabs the man across the table's attention.

He smiles at her, eyes gliding over the group, lingering on Jaskier, and suddenly it is hard to breathe.

"Thank you." He says, and why is even his voice attractive?! Unfair.

"You are the one making them? This swallow is really cute!"

"I am, yes. The swallow is my niece's favorite." He says, and Jaskier picks one up to inspect it. It really is well made, the cut of the blade is really subtle, giving a nice texture to the wings.

"They are really nice." Jaskier says, bringing those hazel eyes on him again, and a smile is directed his way. Shit.

"You should see the goats he makes." Lambert pipes up, earning him a glare. "No one loves goats like Eskel."

Aiden laughs brightly, as Jaskier rolls that name around in his head. Eskel.

"Fuck you, Lambert."

"That wasn't very medieval of you." Lambert retorts and Eskel rolls his eyes.

"Pardon my brother, my liege." Eskel says to Triss, tilting forward in half a bow. "He is desperate to impress that kitten knight of yours."

Both Lambert and Aiden splutters indignantly, and Triss covers her smile with a gloved hand.

"Apology accepted, sir, if you show us those rumored goat creations of yours"

Turns out, Eskel didn't bring them, but he pops up his instagram and youtube account, showing off some finished sculptures that he made.

They are incredible, and there are videos of Eskel working the wood, showing his whittling process. Some of them are how-to's, some of them are just sped up showing his progress, and Jaskier finds himself drawn towards those where Eskel is explaining what he does.

Essi buys a little figurine before they leave, and Jaskier snags one of Eskel's business cards. Why? For the social media accounts, of course. No other reason.

When they turn to leave, Essi hooks her arm around Jaskier's and whispers not-so-quietly if Jask should have asked Eskel if he is single.

She is a terrible friend.

Coming home from the fair is a busy affair. Many layers of clothing need to be shed and put away carefully for next time. 

Jaskier had the pleasure of playing Wondereth Walleth eight times before he was challenged to a duel, to which Sir Cat, meaning Aiden, stepped up.

All in all, it was an amazing day, and Jaskier managed to see Eskel a few more times, stopping by their stall to chat when Aiden wanted to flirt.

He is pleasantly tired, and he is filled with a giddy energy, which doesn't bode well for tonight, but fuck it, Jaskier lets himself enjoy it.

The moment he is free from his garments, after having posted some group photos and some *very* nice selfies if he may say so himself, Jaskier takes out Eskel's business card again.

Is this stalking? No, nah, not at all.

This is just checking out a craftsman at work, adding to his views, helping him out. That is what marketing is all about, you know?

It has nothing to do with how Jaskier can't stop thinking about Eskel's broad frame, his big hands around his delicate creations, his skill with a knife. 

Alright, maybe a little, but again, fuck it! Jaskier will allow himself to enjoy this giddy feeling. It's been a while since he's felt anything but stress and tiredness anyway.

In only his undies and an oversized hoodie, Jaskier throws himself on his messy bed with his phone.

Dragoninthewoods, a curious name, but it makes sense later, as Jaskier stumbles over a video where Eskel is using fire to stain the wood for effect.

Holy shit, he is hot.

Jaskier settles in, throwing the blanket around himself, only to kick a leg free half a minute later, and scrolls through Eskel's instagram.

Like always, Jaskier finds himself staying awake past midnight, finding himself lingering on a picture of Eskel and what seems to be his niece in a petting zoo. It's a nice picture, with the little girl staring a chicken down, and Eskel having at least three baby goats climbing him, looking delighted.

It is tagged with 'if one is missing it wasn't me' and 'don't tell lambert i found his mother - ciri' and 'guess I'm making more goats, huh?' and Jaskier is so charmed.

The more he looks, the more he notices. The scars, of course, are hard to miss, but the crinkle around Eskel's eyes? The way he holds himself up under the wheight of the little monsters, the way the side of his shirt is riding up, revealing skin and oh fuck, Jaskier this is absolutely stalking.

Everything comes crumbling down around him when he accidentally likes the picture. Jaskier unlikes it just as fast and throws the phone across the room on instinct. Because that will fix things.

Survival, he is good at it.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!

Well. There is bound to me an influx of activity on his social pages after a fair, right?

It's fine. It's fine!

It doesn't matter that the only picture he actually liked across his whole page is the one showing Eskel himself, this is fine! Jaskier throws himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling. No more phone for tonight, it's fine.

It's fine.

It's not fine.

It's been another hour, and Jaskier has a new message. The phone is oh so very far away, all the way across the floor, taunting him. It wouldn't be Eskel, would it? No, that would be dumb. But it could be, right?

No, it couldn't.

Without his permission, Jaskier's body is sitting up and tip-toeing across the room to pick it up, heart in his throat.

It's Aiden, but the message doesn't make sense at first, in the little summary box.

"Look, if you are gonna go through his pictures at 2am in the morning, it's fine, but please don't wake up the rest of the house by liking a picture without sliding into his DM's. Fix it. / Lambert."

......What? Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat?

Jaskier stares at his phone, and then he notices a high pitched sound, and then he notices it is in fact him doing that high pitched sound, and excuse him, what the actual fuck?!

The message has been taunting him for some good long minutes, until another message joins the other.

From Dragoninthewoods.

Jaskier throws his phone at the bed on instinct, hard, because that is apparently who he is as a person when he panics.

Retrieving it from between the bed and the wall, Jaskier braves to read the message.

"I can see that you didn't. Fixed it. There you go, perfect conversation starter. You are welcome /Lambert."

What the fuck what the FUCK?!

Not a minute later, there is another message, profusely apologizing, this time signed with Eskel.

Jaskier's heart is beating so hard he can hear it in his ears, his breath is coming in fast and the giddy nerves from before run through him like a storm. It is not as if Jaskier *wants* to overthink it, but as he types out a reply his mind is racing.

Without letting himself think more about it, Jaskier sends a reassurance back, and a promise to go see his wares at the fair tomorrow too. He hadn't planned on it but like. That is a good excuse, right?

Insomnia still holds Jaskier in a tight grip the rest of the night, but he manages to snatch an hour or two of sleep before he is woken up by his phone again, this time a message from Aiden, actually Aiden, offering to meet up at the fair and why didn't he mention he as going both days?!

Well. That is not something he is going to bring up on a phone anywhere near Lambert, if he has learned anything at all from all of this.

Jaskier redresses in his bard's clothes, even packing his uku-lute, as he has come to affectionately call it now.

Aiden and Jaskier meet up outside the gates, where all the tents are set up. That would explain a thing or two, if Aiden crashed with the brothers last night.

"Heard you put our dragon man in a spin." Aiden says by way of greeting.

"Uh, hi?" Jaskier says back, confused and embarrassed and excited all at the same time.

"Oh please. Eskel has been fretting all morning, and I know you have a thing for him already. That was painfully obvious. What did you even do?"

Ah fuck.

"I might have... liked a picture on his on instagram that I didn't mean to."

Aiden stares at him like he has grown a second head.

"That's all?" He asks, incredulous.

"That's all." Jaskier confirms, more confused than ever.

"Oh, he's got it bad." Aiden groans, throwing his head back in exasperation. "Ok, so I have a confession. I might be dating Lambert, and I might have shown  Eskel your picture at some point, and uh... talked about you a bit."

It is time for Jaskier to stare at Aiden like he has grown a second head, because what?

"What?" He asks, because yes, what?

"Yeah, uh. He's hot, you're hot, you know?" Aiden waves his hand nonchalantly and steers them towards the fair area. "So you should talk to him today, you know. Ask him out or something."

"I threw my phone across the room because of him. Twice."

Aiden snorts, "Exactly."

Jaskier makes weak protests all the way over to Eskel's stall, where Lambert already stands waiting. There are dark circles under his eyes, matched by Eskel sipping on a coffee on a little footstool next to his table. When they are noticed, Eskel shoots straight up, eyes wide and Lambert rolls his eyes.

"Good morning!" Aiden calls, stepping right up to his... boyfriend, Jaskier supposes, and steals a bite of the sandwich Lambert is holding.

"Asshole." Lambert mutters, but doesn't put up a fight. That is love, right there. "Here for my idiot brother?"

No mercy, whatsoever.

"Ah. I suppose... I am?" It comes out as a question, but yeah, he is actually. Jaskier gathers up his courage, and meets Eskel's eyes. "Want to walk around the fair with me for a bit?"

Eskel looks like a deer caught in headlight, and Lambert shoves him into motion to join Jaskier.

"If you keep him and therefore me awake another night, I will stab someone." Lambert threatens, and it makes Jaskier huff a laugh.

"No promises, I guess?" Jaskier teases, and then by some miracle takes Eskel's hand and leads them away.

As soon as they are out of sight, Jaskier lets go awkwardly, and scratches the back of his head.

"Uhm. Sorry? For just showing up and dragging you away I mean. You got a business to run."

"No, it's fine, I... Lambert will look after it. And Aiden I suppose. Sorry about last night, really, I didn't see Lambert taking my phone."

"It's fine, it's fine! Kind of sweet of him, really. Did I really keep you up?"

This is the strangest conversation Jaskier has ever had. Probably not true, but right now it really feels like it. Somewhere in the top ten list, at the very least.

"Uh, yeah. I kind of threw my phone across the tent when I saw the notification." Eskel confesses, and well.

"So did I. Twice."  They smile at each other, and start walking again.

"So. Where to? Anything we should see today?"

"There will be a tournament in about 15 minutes, my niece is the princess and my brother is one of the knights competing."

"Another brother?"

"Yeah, Geralt. He adopted Ciri last year, after her parents passed."

"Oh no, that's sad!"

"Yes, but they are dealing well. They are both smiling a lot more now."

They stroll between the stalls, around the small stage where a bard with an *actual* lute is setting up, together with a girl with a drum and a third with a fiddle, around the little dirt paths leading them towards the paddock where the tournament will be held.

Jaskier finds himself asking questions about Eskel's work, about his family, about that goat thing, and Eskel in turn ask questions about his degree, his outfit, and if he is doing anything next weekend and possibly might be free for a coffee.

Yeah.

Day two of medieval fairs indeed turns out to be better.

Jaskier learns that Eskel has a really dorky laugh, that Aiden has been trying to set them up for *weeks*, and for that, they both probably owe Aiden at least a bottle of wine.

[thesleepy1]

Bun(s) In The Oven

A/N: What am I doing instead of sleeping? A) Working, B) Writing. or C) Waking Lord Cthulhu from his slumber so that he may reclaim the throne. If you guessed B, then you’d be correct! Hahaha, I really do need sleep. And they call me the Sleepy One! Anon Requested. (Also, I haven’t had the time to sit down and watch season three yet, so please no spoilers.) 

Pairings: Eskel x Reader 

Summary: You were supposed to have nine months to prepare. You were counting on those nine months. You were not a procrastinator by any means, but with something as important as having a baby you were going to make good use of all the available time to prepare for the arrival of your new baby. Nine months. Not six. 

Or, “Could you write something for eskel when his significant other is in labour. I don’t know if he’d be chill and prepared or in total panic mode. Either wait I’d like to read it 😂

Word count: 930

Warnings: birth? 

At six months pregnant you were past the point of still coming up with names for your little one and were well into the process of setting up the nursery. In the beginning, there was fear that the baby would not survive. Miscarriages were common in the village you grew up in and a human pregnant with a witcher baby was unprecedented. Anyone pregnant with a witcher baby was unheard of. There was no way of knowing what to expect.

When you and Eskel had first learned of the little seed that was sprouting in you, you both laughed it off as some practical joke. It wasn’t until months later that you realized there was something going on. The bump proved that there wasn’t some prank being played on you. You were well and truly pregnant. 

First there was denial. That was to be expected. 

Then came the acceptance. 

After that it was just full blown panic. 

You were a bard for heaven’s sake. A baby was not on your bucket list. When you had first met Eskel and decided to tag along on his adventures, you did not realize that having a baby along the way was a part of it. 

But after that…? 

It was quite nice. 

Sure it was unexpected and neither you nor Eskel had planned for it, but it really wasn’t a bad thing. The pregnancy didn’t stop you from doing what you loved. You still performed and sang to your heart's content. In some taverns you even made more coin. Some were from concerned onlookers and some were from others who got off at the sight of you. Either way, money was money. 

And Eskel. Dear sweet Eskel. He grew to love you even more than before if that was possible. It was no worry of yours that Eskel didn’t truly love you. He showed it to you each and every day. But after the two of you had gotten over your panic, he became the most doting and kind and loving witcher possible. It could have been sickening if you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it. 

So yes. You were past the point of panic and name searching. With something around thirteen more weeks to go, you were still working on adding things to the nursery. Most of the essentials were there already. Now was just time to decorate and fill the room with as many toys as you possibly can.  No one was going to stop you, least of all Eskel. 

If anyone were looking for the two of you, then they could find you in the nursery happily sewing up another stuffed animal or embroidering yet another piece of  clothing. Eskel could be found doing the same. Despite his large frame, he had such a talent for needle work. 

You were working on turning shorn wool into wool when you suddenly felt a wetness burst from you followed by intense pain. Before you realized what was going on with your body Eskel leapt up from his seat. 

“I need to get a healer,” Eskel announced, his breaths coming in unevenly. “I can’t leave you here alone—someone needs to get the healer. Lambert! Geralt!” 

That was another thing. Eskel’s brothers were there every step of the way. And they were going to be there for this step too, despite its premature timing. 

“Are you sure? I—we still have weeks, don’t we?” you asked him, face grimacing in pain despite your disbelief. “We-we haven’t finished processing the food for stores or-or finished all the clothes—” You were cut off by an unbearable pain flaring from within. “Dear gods, heavens above. The little one is coming. The little one is coming!” 

“Geralt! Lambert! Vesemir!” Eskel called out to his brothers. His voice boomed in the hallways, sounds bouncing off the stone hallways and carrying towards the other witchers in the keep. Before long, they came running to your aide. 

“Healers. We need to go find a healer.” Eskel was firm. He left no room for argument. Lambert rushed out back the way he came. He was the smallest and fastest of the witchers. He would reach the town at the bottom of the mountain first and hurry back with a healer or two. Eskel had to believe that his brother would. 

“Geralt,” Eskel began.

“Anything you need,” Geralt replied. 

What happened next was beyond you. The pain was indescribable. You knew that you would not remember much of the process. At least, that was what the other mothers had told you. They said that the mind would forget so the body continued.

However, right there and then you were unbearably hurt. And you were vocal about it. 

“Great saints above! Get—” you were screaming. It stung the witcher’s ears but you didn’t have a spare thought to care. “Get them out of me!” 

“T-them?”

It was Geralt who faltered at that.

Years later you would all sit around a table topped with a hearty meal. Roasted elk, mashed sweet potatoes, and mead would be overflowing. Altina and Anna would be given cider that had not ripen into the sort that would make them dizzy and drunk. Everyone would laugh at the way that Geralt had stuttered at the prospect of two. 

Eskel would laugh the loudest. For he was the proudest of the fact. He was a father of two beautiful, healthy girls and he couldn’t be happier. 

No one will bring up the fact that Eskel had almost fainted when Anna's head was crowning and the healer was still twenty minutes away.

[cosmos-coma]

was thinking all night of an eskel request, and i think i finally got one! eskel pining for the reader while at kaer morhen for the winter, maybe some teasing from the other witchers? super in the mood for fluff, so if you get around to this, extra cuteness plsss and thank you!

Before the Snow is Gone

A/N: My friend I will ALWAYS be happy to write up your requests. I'll admit that I really struggled with this one for some reason, but I hope I made it comedic and fluffy for you!

Pairing: Eskel X Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: bit of angst and depression (from Eskel)

_______________________

Geralt and Lambert poked their head around the frame of the kitchen door as another sigh came from the room. There they watched Eskel look forlornly into the stew pot as he stirred, his eyes and thoughts somewhere far from here. 

“Is he still sighing about missing his lover?” Lambert whispered to his white-haired brother, watching as Eskel began rummaging through the spice jars, looking depressed at each and every option.

“He’s been like this for 2 weeks and we’re only a month into winter... Even Lil Bleater can’t cheer him up like she used to.” Geralt said, shaking his head as he watched his brother finally settle on a spice and add it to the pot. 

“What are we looking at?” Asked Yennefer's voice as her head appeared between the two men. 

“Is Eskel moping again?” Jaskier asked now, his head poking out above everyone else’s. 

Geralt blinked as he looked up at his bard. “Jask, you’re shorter than I am. How are you-?” 

“I’m standing on a chair…” he admitted as everyone pulled away from the doorway to talk face to face. 

“There has to be something we can do. I don't want to eat sad stew again.” Lambert complained with arms crossed. 

Yennefer was the first to pipe up this time, “I... think I may have an idea..”

----

Lil Bleater propped herself up on his legs, baaing and begging for attention as Eskel took care of the other stable animals. She huffed when she didn’t immediately get the petting she craved and stamped her feet against him. 

“I’m sorry, Kiddo… I guess I’m just not really here right now.” He said as he finally took the time to pause and look down at her frustrated grunts. Another sigh left his lips as he kneeled down to pet her and jostle her horns in a weak effort to play. He knew he wasn’t being any fun lately and he knew everyone else could see it. Hell, Vesemir even tried to have a talk with him the other week, but it had little effect. 

He couldn’t help it if he missed you so greatly. He had spent his warmer months being by your side as much as he could. Memorizing your voice, your eyes, and the feel of your hand in his as much as he could so it would all be perfect in his memory when winter came. 

But now… now it was only making it more glaringly obvious that you really weren't by his side. That you weren’t truly there to whisper to him in the dead of night when he can't sleep, nor to smile at him as you simply passed by. 

“I don't know what I'm gonna do for the rest of the winter, Bleater… it’s getting hard just to get out of bed each morning, let alone go through my chores.” He mumbled softly to the bright-eyed kid. “I’m a witcher, you know? I should be better than this… I’ve faced vampires, and dragons, so-” he paused for a moment as he idly scratched Lil Bleater’s chin.  “So why is it so hard to leave...? Even when I know I’ll be back…”

Lil Bleater only quietly baaed in response, trying to soothe her dedicated caretaker, but not sure how. So she does what all goats do best- she chews on his fingers. 

Another sigh from the soft-hearted witcher, this time with a small smile, “I Love them so much…” he mumbled out, getting lost in his own thoughts again, until an unexpected voice pulled him back with a snap. 

“I Love you too, Eskel.” 

He blinked as he heard it. That was… your voice…? That was your voice! It was you! Eskel spun around to face where the sound came from and nearly dropped Lil Bleater back to the ground when he saw you.

There you stood in the open stable doors, wrapped in your warm winter clothes, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and a big bundle of clothes in your hands. Your breath puffed up in front of your face as you dropped your bag and ran straight into his arms. 

Eskel could hardly contain his excitement as your beaming face came running into his embrace. “You’re here..! but, how…?” Eskel asked, hugging you tight against his chest and drinking in your scent. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead and your temple as you tried to answer, but you couldn't get your words out past the laughter bubbling from you.

“We thought you could use a visit...” came Yennefers voice as she also drifted into view of the stable doors, followed by Geralt, Lambert, and Jaskier. “You’ve been moping about for weeks now and I figured it's easy enough to conjure a portal,” she shrugged, “I open up another portal Home in a few days, so enjoy it.” 

“Geralt, Lambert, and I are also gonna take care of your chores, so you can enjoy your time together.” Jaskier chimed in with a thumbs up and that characteristic charming smile,“and that time starts now, so go on and get out of here! Shoo! Go be gross and in love,” he said, quickly ushering you two out and tossing your bundle of clothes at Eskel. 

Laughter trailed behind you two as Eskel led you inside so you could settle down. However, Eskel rumbled with quiet excitement, and as quick as you settled he was taking your hand to show you everything about the keep. From the kitchen to the armory and everything in between, your beloved witcher just wanted to share every part of his childhood home that he held dear on your first visit. 

“I missed you so much” You mumbled as you took a pause from reading. 

Eskel had finally snuck you away to the Keep’s library at the end of the tour so you two could spend the perfect first evening together. Hot chocolate filled your mugs and your sweet whispers filled the air as you read to him. His head lay tenderly on your chest as he soaked in the warmth of your presence. The fire crackled softly before you and everything was just as it should be. 

“I missed you too… I’m glad you finally get to visit after hearing about it so much” he lifted his head to smile up at you, that notch in his lip tugging it into a larger grin. “And we’ll make the most of our time here. I promise. We can do anything you want- build snowmen, ice skate-” 

“Even just cuddle up under a blanket to fight off the cold…?” you offered with a shake of your head and a chuckle, “I don't care what we do, Eskel, as long as I can be next to you. We could spend the entire visit cleaning up horse shit and- as long as I don’t get any on my face- then I would still consider it an amazing time.”

Eskel’s chest rumbled with laughter that easily passed through your whole body, “I mean- that can be arranged…” 

An even stronger laugh emanated from him as you poked him in the ribs and frowned, “I think I’d rather fall in the lake, Esk. Let’s just take this day by day, okay?” you asked, running your fingers through that lovely dark hair of his. “I love you so much, Eskel. No matter what we do or how far away you are or how hard it is that I can’t see you.” 

You smiled as you pressed a soft kiss to his slightly chapped lips,“and I love knowing that I’ll be able to see you again as soon as the first flowers bloom.”

“Oh, Darling,” Eskel smiled, his expression easy and light as his honey-like eyes melted your heart into a sweet puddle, “I’ll be at your door long before the snow is even gone.” 

___________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight (<3) @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 16

Jaskier gifts Geralt something at least once a month. A silly horse knick-knack that reminded him of Roach, some rock he found, a flower (that's the most frequent). New gloves, new boots, gear, a sword sharpener, really, at least once a year Geralt has something new that means the world to him. So he keeps them all in his room in Kaer Morhen. Which means that every winter his brothers start trying to squeeze out information about who gives him these presents. Year by year, Lambert and Eskel tackle him and demand to know who gives him PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES, GERALT! PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES! AND IS THAT A FUCKING THROW PILLOW WITH FLOWERS ON IT!?

One year, they finally, FINALLY, get out the information that it's the bard he travels with. But surely if he gives him this many gifts and has stayed this many years, he should be spending at least one winter in Kaer Morhen with them, right? Geralt gets all sheepish and snaps at them to leave it alone and to stop bringing up "Jask." Well! A brother's gotta do what a brother's gotta do. Thus commences Lambert and Eskel's race to see who can find Geralt's bard first, and invite him up for the winter so they can wingman their poor emotionally constipated brother

[kaermorhenatnight]

Fanfic Masterpost

I haven't written that many fics, but decided to put the links (including my older Witcher fics that I don't really like anymore, but hey, I had to start somewhere) in one place in case someone needs it

Minors DNI please!

Baldur's Gate 3

Something Real (Ao3) Astarion x Tav, Tav is afab (she/her), non-smut; This fic takes place somewhere in the act II. Tav and Astarion had their little hook-up after the tiefling party. It's another version of the unprompted confession he makes/the talk after meeting Araj Oblodra, discussing his feelings past trauma Word count: 2.5k CW: mentions of past SA

Light in the shadows (Ao3) Rolan x fem!Reader smut, reader is afab (she/her), no y/n used You've been friends with our favorite tiefling bachelor and decide to make your move during the tiefling party that they should have after act II Word count: 5.5k

The Witcher

"What a prick" game!Lambert x fem!reader smut, reader is afab (she/her), no y/n used You spend another winter in Kaer Morhen hoping Eskel will finally reciprocate your interest but then, to your surprise, you find yourself spending a night with a different Wolf Word count: 2k

Yours, finally game!Eskel x fem!reader smut, reader is afab (she/her), no y/n used Alternative version of "What a Prick"; You spend another winter in Kaer Morhen hoping Eskel will finally notice your interest in him. Convinced by a short talk with Lambert you decide to finally act Word count: 2.5k

Maybe I just convinced myself it's love game!Lambert x bard!fem!reader smut, reader is afab (she/her), no y/n used You perform at The Kingfisher Inn when Lambert happens to be in town and, as it always happens when you bump into each other, you spend the night together Word count: 3.8k

[0dde11eth]

Jaskier getting giddy about Lambert and Aiden finally getting together and of course asking them all sorts of questions.

Jaskier: Which of you guys. Wait hold on. Where's eskel? Hes not here? Ok good. Which one of you guys Ice the cupcake?

Lambert: You couldn't say that in front of him?

Jaskier: He'd want a cupcake

[elythegardeningbard]

Jaskier's Cosplay - Part 2 -The Doublet Main pattern

[spilledbutter]

like cardiac arrest (high voltage when we kiss) - chapter 2

Summary: Jaskier needs a date, fast. Problem is, dating is harder than it used to be. Luckily, Eskel’s willing to help him out.

Or: Two idiots in love think it’s a great idea to pretend to date each other. No one is fooled.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 4k+ | CW: coarse language, sexual thoughts

---

Prompt fill for lovely Kei! Read Chapter 1 on AO3 or here on Tumblr.

---

The weekend came, and with it, the arrival of Lambert and Aiden’s monthly cookout. Even though it was November and practically snowing, Lambert didn’t cancel his cookouts for anything, everyone else’s feelings about that fact aside. (“Rain or fucking shine, Jaskier, I don’t give a fuck about something as trivial as the weather,” he’d sneered when Jaskier had bothered to ask, one day. He’d never questioned it again.) Jaskier and Eskel were going, as they always did, with the new development of needing to look like a couple. They’d decided today would be as good a test run as any in seeing if their relationship would pass as genuine. After all, who would be a better judge than their friends and family? 

It was a reasonable, terrible idea. Jaskier was absolutely shitting himself as he heard the knock on his door.

Eskel thought he should pick him up, thought they should drive there together. It did seem more natural, Jaskier supposed, but it really just meant he had no time at all to prepare himself for being a couple with Eskel and what that meant for his sanity.

He took a deep breath, which caught in his throat only a second later. 

Eskel looked… Wow. The other man was stunning in a red button-up, top two buttons undone and bloated biceps on full display. His top was paired with well-fitting black jeans, which showed off his plump backside rather nicely. He had a sherpa-lined leather jacket and soft-looking scarf hanging over one arm, Blundstone-booted feet tying it all together.

Jaskier idly cursed good genes and the color red and the time when he’d told Eskel he looked dashing in it, so very long ago. It was awful that Eskel had taken him at his word, really, because now he was left dealing with the unfortunate reality of his good taste. He was practically salivating, unable to help his staring with so much to look at. 

Jaskier was very much not ready for today, Melitele help him.

“Hi.” He sounded breathless even to his own ears, but Eskel either didn’t notice or was too kind to comment on it.

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?” 

Eskel stepped fully into Jaskier’s apartment, perfectly at ease, and bent to scratch Mattie, Jaskier’s cat, as she gave him a mrow in greeting. 

“Yeah, just about. Let me just grab my coat.” 

Jaskier moved to the bedroom and was back in a flash, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his own double-breasted peacoat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. He’d dressed for luck today, wearing all of his favorite things in the hopes that this wouldn’t all blow up his face as spectacularly as he expected it would. 

A button-up of his own, in a pretty cream color with light lace detailing around the buttons, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his hands and wrists. His lovely thrifted waistcoat covered in floral embroidery (which some might call gaudy, but really, that was due to their inability to appreciate art, thank you very much). His favorite pair of black jeans, which fit his ass and thighs like a glove. His well-loved Chelsea boots, warm and practical but stylish and rustic. The pearl earring he’d crafted from one of his mother’s old necklaces in one ear and his many, ever-present rings adorning his fingers. Your clothes are your armor, Jaskier, and gods know you’ll need it today.

He came back to stand in front of Eskel with a smile and a prayer. 

“Well, we look quite the pair, don’t we?” He hoped his usual charm was enough to mask his nerves. “You clean up rather nicely, Esk, though I don’t think that’s a surprise to anyone.” 

He brushed a casual hand over Eskel’s shoulder without much thought, missing the flare of heat in the other man’s eyes.

“You too, Jask. In fact…” Eskel took that moment to step closer, crowding into Jaskier’s personal space. He placed a careful hand at Jaskier’s waist, used the other to guide Jaskier’s fallen hand back to his own shoulder. The look in his eyes was inscrutable, his touch as familiar as it was strange in this charade they found themselves in.

Jaskier was stunned for the second time in as many days. He blinked, mouth falling slightly open. “Esk? Bit early for this, yeah? We don’t even have an audience, unless you count Mattie,” he chuckled nervously, heart pounding like a drum.

The hand was a warm, bracing heat where it rested over the linen of his shirt. Jaskier felt the touch like a brand, sparks flying from the points where they made contact.

“Hm,” Eskel rumbled, bringing his other hand around Jaskier’s lower back and somehow stepping even closer. “Figured this would be as good a time as any to practice.”

Eskel’s thumb was rubbing small, distracting little circles at the base of his spine. Jaskier was finding it harder to string together a coherent thought by the second. “P-Practice…?”

The other man’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth quirking into a becoming smile. Jaskier wanted to see what it would taste like, pressed to his lips. 

“Kissing, Jask. Would you prefer I planted one on you when you weren’t expecting it? I didn’t want you to be more surprised than everyone else is already going to be.”

Jaskier spluttered, cheeks turning red. “I– well, I mean– Maybe? Probably a good idea, all things considered, would seem– normal, since we’re dating and all. Not that I’m saying no right now, but–”

Eskel took pity on him, chuckling. “Noted. I’ll remember that for later.”

He still hadn’t stopped that damnable stroking of his back. Fuck.

Jaskier bit his lip, hand tightening unconsciously on Eskel’s shoulder. His other hand moved from his side to rest tentatively on the meat of Eskel’s pec. “It might be… smart. Practicing. Do you… um, now?”

Jaskier had never been less eloquent in his life, but Eskel didn’t need pretty words to understand what he meant.

Eskel’s hand traveled smoothly from Jaskier’s waist to grasp his chin. Jaskier wasn’t small by any means, standing at just under six feet tall, but Eskel made him feel downright dainty. Something about that fact made a primal part of his brain purr with pleasure.

They locked eyes, blue meeting hazel. Jaskier took a few moments to just… look. He didn’t see any hesitation or regret in Eskel’s gaze, just warmth. The tension in his shoulders loosened, his face tilting just that little bit more upward.

Eskel, intelligent man that he was, didn’t wait any longer. 

The warm press of lips against Jaskier’s own sent a bolt of lightning down his spine. It was rather chaste, all things considered, but he’d never felt quite so many butterflies as he did now with anyone else, the warmth spreading from where they were connected all the way down to his toes. 

Eskel’s arms curled firmly around Jaskier’s hips, but his kisses remained soft, almost tentative. Jaskier felt a hunger clawing its way up his throat and just barely smothered the desperate sound that tried to escape. He pressed himself closer, arms looping around Eskel’s neck as his lips parted, praying that the declaration sitting on his tongue remained inside. 

By the gods, kissing Eskel was like the first sight of water in a desert. Like the first flowers sprouting through frost, like first love in the summer. Like the last love he hoped he’d ever have.

They’d been kissing for maybe a minute, probably less, but when they pulled apart, Jaskier was panting. He felt absolutely wrecked, heart threatening to claw its way out of his chest, every part of his being screaming about the minuscule distance between them.

Fuck, he was so fucking fucked.

“Um,” he licked his suddenly dry lips and blinked through the pleasant, dazed feeling that had taken over his brain. “Think we’ll pass the test?”

Eskel looked almost as starstruck as Jaskier was, breath coming in shallow little puffs and a faint flush at the tips of his ears, though he schooled his features quickly. Jaskier’s heart fluttered at having that effect on him, feeling the sticky ooze of pride in his gut, despite knowing it was just a physical reaction to a damned good kiss.

When Eskel spoke, his voice was rough. “I think we just might.” 

—-

“Jask! Eskel!” Aiden’s voice carried warmly over to them as they arrived through the back gate.

The butterflies were fully present again and Jaskier wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Eskel’s hand was a comforting warmth on his lower back, guiding him through the gate where he waited, hesitating.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it!” Aiden came over and hugged both of them tightly, as if he hadn’t just seen them two weeks ago when they met with Geralt and Lambert for drinks. 

Jaskier smiled despite himself. “Hey Aiden, everyone here already? We brought refreshments.” Eskel held up their offering at Jaskier’s queue.

Aiden grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Great! Afraid Lambert made his way through most of ours last night when Geralt came over. Poor fool’s hopeless at Gwent, gods help him.”

Eskel snorted. “Don’t worry, Aid. I like you, so I won’t tell him you said that.” 

“And that’s what makes you my favorite brother-in-law!”

Eskel smiled, moving to press a casual kiss to Jaskier’s cheek before excusing himself. “Going to put these in the fridge real quick. Be right back.”

Jaskier froze, knowing his face was practically glowing at the easy display of affection, but tried to play it cool. Damn it, Eskel, you had to leave me to deal with this alone…

He supposed he should be grateful it was Aiden first. He sighed.

“So… You and Esk?” 

He glanced over at Aiden, not sure what he was expecting to find, but huffed a small breath of relief at seeing only curiosity in his expression. “When did that happen?”

“A few weeks ago. Remember Yenn’s birthday?” 

In truth, it wasn’t a hard story to sell. He and Eskel were frequently together (some might say attached at the hip), so it wasn’t surprising when they’d left together that night. Jaskier was a friendly drunk in general, even more so with his actual friends, and he knew he’d been all over Eskel. He privately remembered how hard it was to keep his mouth shut, with the cold air around them and the warmth of Eskel’s body as he’d practically carried him down the street. How close he’d been to blowing it when they’d stumbled home to Jaskier’s flat…

Aiden nodded, brows raised, and shook him out of his reverie. “So, was it you or him? Honestly Jask, I have to tell you, we’ve all talked about it over the years,” he chuckled.

Jaskier frowned, brows furrowing. Aiden didn’t seem to notice.

“We placed some bets, with interest, so I’d really love to know if I won the pot.”

“You all placed bets on when I’d finally confess? That’s hardly fair. Should’ve taken the secret to my grave just to spite you,” Jaskier grumbled.

He was more than a little indignant that they all seemed to know how absolutely gone he was over Eskel, particularly since he’d never mentioned it to any of them. Maybe it was just a testament to how well they knew him. The thought wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

Aiden smirked, saying nothing, before tugging Jaskier by the wrist towards the fire pit. 

“Come on, it’s fucking cold.”

—-

For the fourth time in the last twenty minutes, he found his gaze traveling across the yard. Eskel was sipping at a beer and chatting with Geralt. No doubt it was about the kids Geralt kept catching stoned out of their minds in the park campgrounds every weekend. He knew it had been a thorn in his best friend’s side for weeks, reluctant as he was to do too much about it. Lambert, who had just joined the other two, suddenly roared with laughter at some bit of Geralt’s dry humor, Eskel and Geralt smirking along with him at the unheard joke. Jaskier found himself smiling fondly, watching them all together.

“Lucky in love at last, bard?”

Jaskier scoffed, caught staring, and turned to Yennefer. She was bouncing little three-year-old Ciri on her knee on the other side of the fire, looking every bit at home in Lambert’s backyard. The beer she was holding clashed with her tailored pantsuit but only added to the picture she made, and really, it was just unfair that she made that look work to her advantage. Even with the snot Ciri was surreptitiously wiping on her shoulder. 

“What can I say, witch? The man’s got taste,” he retorted with a smirk, all confidence he didn’t quite feel.

The nicknames were stupid things they’d given each other back in college, back when they were rivals fighting over the attention of a certain white-haired man who wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship. They were almost pet names, now, many years and shared bottles of wine over Geralt’s stupidity later. 

Triss smiled over at him from her place next to Yennefer, a knowing glint in her eye. She was chopping vegetables for kabobs, her skilled hands making quick work with the knife she was holding. Yennefer leaned over to her, rolling her eyes at Jaskier, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Triss let out a smitten giggle.

A lawyer and a doctor, both beautiful to boot. He'd be intimidated if he hadn’t known them for years. 

He smiled despite himself, pleased to see his friends happy in love. It only hurt a little bit, this time, knowing he at least had Eskel’s temporary attention to comfort him.

“We’re happy for you, Jask, you know that, right?” Triss finally chimed in, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she passed him to take the finished kabobs to Lambert at the grill. 

Jaskier felt his cheeks heating, longing and wistfulness twisting sickly in his gut, and nodded. He hoped his feelings didn’t show on his face. 

The night carried on, drinks and laughter and stories about their weeks shared between them, before they finally settled at Lambert’s massive patio table to eat. It was still cold out, but the patio lamps were warm, and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel even warmer with the drink in his belly and good company around him. 

Jaskier was sitting next to Eskel, Aiden on his right, and Geralt across from them both. It was a little awkward, feeling Geralt trying not to stare at them. He hadn’t said anything to his best friend about this, knows how that must look since they all believe he and Eskel are dating now, but really, there wasn’t anything to tell. He couldn’t exactly tell Geralt he was fake-dating his brother as a ploy to best his mortal enemy, now could he? Nevermind the fact that he’d never exactly told Geralt he was in love with the man. Seemed like that was for the best, as that would only make things worse than they were now.

There was a stilted silence in the air, everyone tucking into their meals except for Geralt, who continued to look at Jaskier and Eskel as if they were a great mystery he couldn’t quite parse. Finally, Geralt must decide he’s drunk enough to say something because he huffs.

“I just don’t get it. How are you two dating?”

Everyone pauses, looking between the four of them–Geralt, Jaskier, Eskel, and the elephant in the room.

Jaskier, surprisingly, found his hackles up. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Geralt shrugs, looking only a little sorry. “It’s just, well… surprising, is all.” 

And that just made it worse, Jaskier practically bristling like a cat whose tail has been stepped on. He starts spluttering, winding himself up into a rant about how Geralt doesn’t know fucking anything and how dare he say that in front of everyone, when Eskel’s hand lands on his thigh.

Jaskier pauses, then, looks over at Eskel. He is surprised by the warmth he sees in the other man’s eyes, compassion and tenderness and comfort all wrapped up in gold-flecked hazel. Eskel’s thumb is stroking over Jaskier’s knee, and he’s looking at him like that, and Jaskier suddenly can’t find it in him to be angry anymore.

“It’s okay, sweet thing,” Eskel murmurs. “I’ll do the explaining, yeah?”

He shifts his attention to everyone, walking them through their cover story–how they’d left their friends at the bar several weeks ago and fallen into each other’s arms. He keeps rubbing those damnable circles into the flesh on the inside of Jaskier’s knee, and Jaskier can’t quite stop himself from staring at Eskel’s mouth as he forms the words. 

Particularly not when Eskel adds in a few things they hadn’t discussed.

“I know you’re all surprised, but this isn’t really new. Not for me. I’ve always loved Jaskier,” and he takes a moment to gaze straight into Jaskier’s eyes as he says that, before looking away like it’s nothing. Like he hasn’t just shattered Jaskier’s entire world.

He continues, clueless to the storm raging its way through Jaskier’s insides. “I just finally got my shit together enough to say something about it–and I was lucky that he felt the same way.”  

Jaskier can’t look away from him, caught up in the way his eyes look at he says things like always loved and lucky about Jaskier, of all people. He feels a twinge of deja vu, thinking of the conversation with Yenn just over an hour ago. 

Geralt’s hawk eyes keep darting back and forth between them–to the foolishly besotted look Jaskier is sure must be on his face right now, to the way he’s got his whole weight leaned against Eskel’s side like he’s the only thing keeping him upright. He’s not sure what Geralt makes of Eskel, but whatever he sees, it finally seems to satisfy him enough that he crosses his arms and nods.

“Happy for you both. I mean it,” he says gruffly, making sure to meet both of their eyes to show how serious he is. Jaskier feels a flutter of affection for his closest friend, any residual annoyance from his earlier comment fully faded away now.

Geralt pushes away from the table then, reaching to grab Ciri from her booster seat. He excuses himself, likely going to put Ciri down for her late afternoon nap. It’s just as likely he needs a second to rationalize the reality that his brother and best friend are together.

Jaskier turns back to the rest of the table at this point, still unsure what he’s going to see in the rest of their faces despite Geralt’s acceptance. He looks around at everyone, at Yennefer and Lambert and Vesemir, and feels something tight unfurl in his stomach as he sees the acceptance on all of their faces, something he hadn’t even known was there. 

He lets himself smile, just for a second, and squeezes Eskel’s hand where it still rests on his knee under the table. He gets a fond squeeze back. This felt right. And although it wasn’t true, it felt good to know that everyone would be there to support them if it was.

—-

The rest of the evening is a quiet affair, and when the stars are well into the night sky, they finally say their goodbyes to everyone and make their way back to Eskel’s car. It’s only when he’s settled in the passenger seat with his seatbelt on that Jaskier goes limp with the weight of all of his feelings, pressing the heels of his hands firmly into his eyes.

“Jask? You okay?” It comes quietly, and although Eskel isn’t touching him, Jaskier breathes in his presence like the comfort that it always is.

He takes a moment and heaves a heavy breath out through his nose before he tries to speak. “Yeah. Just didn’t anticipate that being so… heavy. And I have to admit I didn’t think about how Geralt would react to the fact we hadn’t told him first when I proposed this idea.”

Jaskier rubs a nervous hand through his hair, sighing. He feels Eskel’s eyes on him, with that same quiet intensity he always has, before his hand is suddenly in Eskel’s. 

“I’m sorry if I… overstepped, back there. Figured you’d really–want to sell it,” Eskel chuckles, weakly, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

Jaskier takes a moment to look at him more closely, taking in the tense set of his shoulders, the way he won’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” he says, squeezing Eskel’s hand again, “What’s going through that big brain of yours?”

Eskel is still quiet, and it’s a little unsettling. Jaskier forces himself to be patient. 

Eventually, he sighs, before turning to look at Jaskier. “We could still stop this, you know. Tell everyone it was all a big joke. I know I said it might be easier since we know each other, but I might have been wrong on that front.”

Jaskier’s heart is pounding, heart beating too hard at the direction this conversation might be turning. He doesn’t think Eskel is on to him, doesn’t think he’s noticed, but he will be if Jaskier asks what he wants to. Do you want to stop? Because I’ve never wanted anything less.

He swallows the question burning in his throat but is determined to do something about the furrow between Eskel’s brows, at the very least. No use in having the other man worried because of him.

“You did exactly what was asked of you, dear heart, no apology needed.”

Jaskier pauses, tap-dancing on the fine line between comforting honesty and revealing too much. “You know, when we decided to do this, I knew it would be a little messy,” he gave a rueful smile at that, hoping the little bit of truth in his words was enough for now. “But I can’t say there’s anyone I’d be happier doing this with than you.”

Eskel finally looks his way, a twitch at the corner of his mouth akin to a smile. 

“Yeah?” And that confident light Jaskier loves so much is back in Eskel’s eyes as he says, “Not just because I’m a phenomenal kisser?”

The moment is broken, just like that. Jaskier shoves him playfully, laughing despite the resounding crack he feels in his heart. However this ends, they’ll be okay, even if he has to make peace with just being Eskel’s friend forever. Even if he knows now what Eskel looks like right after he’s been kissed, bright-eyed and breathless and beautiful. Even if his stupid heart guts him from the inside out by the time this is over.

Eskel turns the keys in the ignition and finally starts the drive to Jaskier’s flat. The streetlights outside flicker through the windows, turning Eskel’s olive skin a lovely golden brown. They’re quiet, except for the soft music playing on the radio, each digesting the developments of the last few days.

Jaskier can’t help himself, eyes drawn to Eskel’s face again. The other man looks mostly relaxed, still frowning slightly at whatever thoughts are going through his mind. Jaskier feels the ache acutely, then, wishing more than anything that he had the courage to fess up.

Instead, he reaches over and gently takes the hand resting on Eskel’s thigh in his own, smoothing a thumb over his knuckles. He hopes it’s a comfort, however small. He misses the eyes that flick over to him as he does so, the overwhelming fondness that takes over the other man’s expression as if he can’t help it any longer.

They sit like that, clasped hands resting on Jaskier’s knee and earnestly stealing glances at each other, for the rest of the drive. 

Eventually, they pull up in front of Jaskier’s building, and Eskel parks the car. Jaskier is gathering his things and doesn’t notice when Eskel gets out of the car, hurrying over to open the door for him.

Another wave of blistering warmth rushes through him, the longing so intense he can barely stand it, but he simply beams up at his friend, getting out of the car with a quiet thank you.

“Well… this is me.”

Jaskier can’t resist glancing down at his shoes, feeling bashful, all of a sudden. He’s not sure why the feeling comes to him only now when the other man had declared his undying love in front of their friends and family earlier, but it’s there all the same.

His breath is stolen from him when Eskel steps forward and wraps his strong arms tightly around his frame, squeezing him in a hug so tight he lifts him off the ground. Jaskier is flustered, blushing at the fact that Eskel lifted him like he weighed absolutely nothing, but hugs him back just as tightly.

Eskel finally sets him back on the ground, arms still lightly wrapped around his sides. That inscrutable look is back in his eyes as he stares down at him, a soft smile on his face. Jaskier feels his insides go all squirmy.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

“I’ll text you, okay?” He smiles in response. Before he can stop himself, he leans up to press a soft kiss to Eskel’s scarred cheek. He gives him another quick hug before scurrying inside.

He stops to catch his breath only when he’s safely inside his apartment, leaning heavily against his locked door. Mattie comes up to him and rubs affectionately against his leg, but he can’t pay her any mind. Groaning, he slides to the floor, head in his hands.

He was so fucking fucked.

(2/3)

[flowercrown-bard]

Age was a strange thing for witchers.

Boys, men, elders - they all blended together into one big bunch of grumpy and serious witchers who had more responsibility shoved onto them than a single person should ever have to carry.

Curiously, no witcher ever got it in their head that it could also be the other way around and that, since age didn't matter much to them anyway, adult witchers should get the chance to catch up on the fun they had missed as children.

Dutifully, Jaskier took it upon himself to remind his witchers of that fact as often as he could.

"Eskel, you can't tell me that you seriously never went on a treasure hunt before!" he gaped, as Eskel only scratched his scars sheepishly and shrugged.

"Finding our way back to the keep after our instructors dropped us off in the woods doesn't count, I take it?"

Grinding his teeth, Jaskier shook his head.

How could anyone ever think it was alright to do something like that to literal children?

"It's settled then," he announced and spread his arms wide in a dramatic gesture, "I'll create a treasure hunt for you."

Jaskier didn't wait for Eskel to reply, he simply turned on his heels, scrambled for some paper and ink to write down riddles and come up with a route for the hunt.

Knowing that Jaskier was hellbent on making his witchers feel appreciated and actually experiencing it were two vastly different things.

Letters upon letters flowed from Jaskier's quill, each one a testament to his dedication, until eventually he held up the parchment triumphantly and wiggled it around a bit so the ink would dry faster.

"Might I present to you this map to the most wonderful of treasures?" Jaskier said with a flourish, as he handed the parchment to Eskel.

Not knowing how to respond, Eskel simply took it and read it over.

One did not become a witcher without learning how to track, follow clues or use their brain every once in a while and still, Eskel found himself stumped.

Partially, the riddles leading to the next stage of the hunt were wordplay and metaphors for places, but most of the riddles were different.

Quite frankly, Eskel struggled solving them quickly, because he got overwhelmed by emotion choking up and fighting down a sappy smile, when he read those riddles.

Riddles about the place where they had first met, about the food they had shared on their first day together, about Jaskier's favourite joke Eskel had ever told.

Still, Jaskier didn't show any sign of judging him for his reaction to those riddles.

Truly, if anything, he seemed to grow more and more excited as he followed Eskel, who was following the clues.

Unknown giddiness filled Eskel, as he slowly but surely got swept away by the joy of the game and sharing it with someone so close to him.

Vesemir himself couldn't have kept him engaged for such a long hunt, but with Jaskier by his side, it was no struggle at all to stay focused for so long.

When the sun was already decended low on the horizon, Eskel finally reached the end of the parchment and with it the last clue as to where the long sought out treasure would be.

"X marks the spot", he read intelligently, as he took one last step to stand directly above the mark that Jaskier had hastily scratched into the ground with his boot after instructing Eskel to look away, "and now, isn't there supposed to be a treasure here?"

"Yes there is," Jaskier said with a grin and got up on his tiptoes to kiss Eskel's cheek, "you're the greatest treasure I know."

Zestfully, Jaskier skipped a step back, his mind already coming up with more silly games he could show Eskel and Eskel was more than ready to let himself get pulled along as many times as his bard desired.

[open--till--midnight]

Ok hear me out, Eskel x reader who is just very... ordinary.

She has a good knowledge of herbs and medicines and patching people up, that’s about it besides a hobby of storytelling and singing little tunes she hears from traveling bards.

Maybe Eskel comes across said reader (however you want) and is drawn in by her for no particular reason he can place. Maybe after a couple encounters after rough contracts, each time ending with her fixing him up and letting him rest in her home till he can leave, he asks her to come with him on the road. Eskel of course being the man he is, would say that it was for healing purposes and a Witcher could always use a medic. But he really just liked the the comfort of readers presence.

-🌲🌾anon

Lessons in Hospitality

eskel x gn!reader

summary | after catching a glimpse of a mysterious witcher, you are captivated. and after a couple encounters, this witcher is ready to take you with him.

cw | drinking until drunk, not proof read

wc | 3100

a/n | so this ask is very similar to my Love Letters series, so if you like this, you'd probably love that, because of this, I deviated from this ask a little bit, but not by much. also, reader is shorter than Eskel, but I don't say by how much

also, i am so sorry for not getting this done sooner, like this ask was from august. but i also have to thank you for getting my creative juices flowing again *muah*

***

You cursed yourself as boiling water splashed your fingers, nearly causing you to drop the pot you were trying to move off of the fire. No matter though, you found temporary relief by dunking your fingertips into your wash basin nearby. And disregarding your scalded tips, the soup would still turn out fine. 

You kept the leftovers hanging over the fire after you ate your fill. Inevitably, you always made too much. Maybe the growing loneliness of your home was getting to you. If one could call it loneliness. On either side of your walls was the endless racket of your careless neighbors. And in front of your home, busy streets and at the back rested ancient woods. You felt a pull towards the trees, wanting the grass at your feet as opposed to the ceaseless mud of the town streets.

In the morning, your day began with a buttered slice of bread while hurrying to dress. The town square was already full of the two dozen children that lived there. A few were missing, but they were bound to show up. They looked forward to Monday mornings as much as you did. With no schoolhouse or teachers, you took up the responsibility of instilling in these children a love of learning and fueling the fires of their curiosity. 

You started by sitting on the edge of the dried-up fountain and began asking the children about their past week. When the usual speakers finished you encouraged some of the quieter ones to speak up. Which they did, they always did what you asked of them. 

When the sun was at its peak in the sky a stranger walked past with twin swords strapped to his back. The children, of course, could not hide their staring. You gazed at the man through lowered lashes, hoping to conceal your immediate fascination with him. But you snapped back when he disappeared through the butcher’s shop doors.

The children’s excitement erupted instantly in the form of questions and enthusiastic statements. Like ‘who was that?’ and ‘did you see his swords?’. Your little town hadn’t seen a witcher in decades, definitely not in your lifetime. But you’d heard the stories and the songs. After you told the children about the job of witchers, they, of course, requested a story. 

Your story took the form of a ballad you’d heard years ago by a traveling bard, the name of which you had long forgotten. 

That night, while you lay facing the ceiling, you contemplated the stranger from earlier. Those swords, those scars, there was no doubt he was a witcher. You wondered what could bring a witcher to your town. You hadn’t heard of anything that could warrant hiring a witcher. Everyone knew there were creatures in the woods, but they’d never caused issues. Perhaps he was just passing through. A small, dark part of your mind hoped he was here for a job, that he would stay just one more day.

His face was at the front of your mind as you fell asleep and it was the first thing you thought of when you woke.

The day ahead of you would consist of running errands for the townsfolk. With no real job you picked up what you could. This was easy since your neighbors appreciated all you did for their children. 

The herbalist needed a root that could only be found in the woods and she was willing to pay good money for you to retrieve a basket of them for her. You knew those woods well, so you agreed.

As you passed the first line of trees you began to feel foolish. A witcher had just graced the town with his presence and what were you doing but leaving town and entering the most dangerous place you could. But maybe that’s why you did it. Your curiosity had put you in danger before, and now you were willingly walking into monster-infested woods for a bit of gold.

The wind whistled through the thick patches of trees. You knew where the roots were and you took no time to get there. The longer you spent in the woods, the more uneasy you became. But the roots were only feet away, so you laid down your basket and got to work, hoping to leave the woods as soon as you could.

As you pulled the last root, you caught the overwhelming feeling of eyes watching you. And the woods around you grew silent, unmoving save the few branches swaying with the wind. A growing fear settled in your gut as you rose and surveyed the area. 

From behind a tree, a witcher crouched, his hand ready to draw either silver or steel. But when he looked out his hand dropped to his side and he stood. 

“You know what manner of creature lives in this forest, don’t you?”

You almost tripped as you spun around to face the stranger who was now leaning against a tree. It was the man from the day before, the witcher. Any fear you felt fled the moment you saw his face.

“I’m afraid not. I mean, I’ve heard stories. We all know there are monsters here. I saw you yesterday, going into the butchers. Is that why you’re here? Did he hire you?”

“Yes.” The witcher’s lip quirked up as his eyes shot down. He, too, had seen you the day before. You had struck him with a curiosity that he hadn’t felt since his youth. 

“Not much of a talker, are you?” 

“How would you know that?”

“Am I wrong?”

The witcher responded with a smile. And when he didn’t speak, you gave him your name. 

He gestured to his chest, “Eskel. And as much as I’d like to continue this chat, I am hunting and you are not only in the way but also in danger. Will you let me walk you home?” 

You grinned at him, “Yes.”

He wasn’t used to being so willing to spend more time than needed with someone, but he felt a sense of obligation to keep you safe. Not that you were a burden, quite the opposite, he had been entranced by you and he needed to know why.

The witcher who you now knew was Eskel carried himself differently than most men. His shoulders were slumped, although you could practically taste the tension he held in them. And though he stood taller than you, it did not feel as though he was looking down upon you. He seemed to make himself seem smaller than he was. You did not know it yet, but it was his resounding effort not to scare away the human who had so quickly captivated him.

“So, what exactly are you hunting?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“No, actually. Just trying to make conversation.” 

The rest of the walk was silent. And while this silence comforted you, you wondered if it had the same effect on Eskel. By the hint of a smile you could see from his side, you assumed it did. 

When Eskel brought you to your door you asked, “Would you like to come inside for a while?”

“Maybe another day, I’ve got a job to do.”

“Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” 

He shot you another breathtaking grin and turned away. Eskel was thrilled that he’d had a successful interaction with someone so enchanting. But he left you wishing that you had insisted on his stay. He was probably staying at the only inn the town had, you wouldn’t wish your worst enemy there. The pub and its patrons made just about the worst environment one could imagine. You couldn’t let him stay there. He was risking his life to make your town safer, the least you could do was offer him a soft cot and a warm fire. But when you stepped out of your door to call out for Eskel, he was gone.

So at sundown, you went to the pub that housed the inn. And you waited, sitting in a corner, nursing your ale. The hours passed and still no sign of the witcher. You had even asked around, no one had seen him. So you waited still. 

You couldn't count the number of drinks you'd had. But even when your vision doubled, you ordered another. You stayed planted in your seat despite the patrons' many attempts to get you out of it. The reasons for which you didn’t care to ask. 

Another hour passed and the moon was at its peak in the sky, but you wouldn’t notice because you were caught up singing drinking songs with the other patrons. You were rowdy and uncontrollable. You were a prime example of why you avoided this trash pit of a tavern. 

When Eskel stumbled into the tavern, tired and bloodied, your eyes immediately found him. 

“It’s you!” You slid off your chair and neared him, “I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Have a drink with me!”

Eskel saw the way the men at your table were staring at you. He saw nothing but trouble.

“I don’t think so.” He eyed a particularly decrepit looking man who had begun to look agitated. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

“But I’m not done having fun.”

“You said you were waiting for me? Well here I am. Come on.”

When Eskel got you outside he hoisted you up onto his horse and started to lead it. 

“Why aren’t you sitting up here?” 

“Look at me, I’m covered in monster guts.”

“Clothes can be washed, come on.”

Once he had mounted, he wrapped his arms around you to steady you as he held onto the reins. 

“Why were you gone so long?”

“Monster hunting isn’t so easy.”

“Really! Who would have thought?”

“Hush now.”

“Why did you say you were waiting for me? How did you know I would be there?”

“Easy, there are no other inns in town. As for why… That place is shitty.” You could feel Eskel’s laugh on your back and your face dropped. “I’m serious. You’re saving lives and you have to stay there? That’s terrible.”

He laughed again, not the reaction you had expected. “I’m afraid that is normal.”

“It shouldn’t be.” You mumbled before you fell silent. When you slumped against Eskel’s chest, he knew you were asleep only a couple of minutes before your house. 

As much as he didn’t want to disturb you, he ran his hand down your arm and spoke quietly to wake you up. He helped you off his horse and started to mount once more.

“Wait!” You realized you’d never actually asked him to stay at your home. But you found yourself suddenly dizzy. Before you could fall, Eskel had already reached your side. “Thank you. Now. You can stay here if you’d like. I mean my sofa is probably much comfier than whatever they’re calling beds over at the inn.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” You giggled.

When you woke the next morning, the witcher was gone. What he left was a note that read:

I’m sorry to leave so early, but the jobs need done and I couldn’t stay behind too long. 

I thank you for your hospitality, I hope this coin is payment enough.

Eskel

Beside the note was far too much coin for your simple act of kindness. But you planned on seeing the witcher again. So the coin along with the note went into a jar you placed by the door.

Not a night passed that you didn’t think of Eskel. Those golden eyes just beneath his furrowed brow. A jawline that could kill and his oh so kissable lips. And of course his most interesting feature being those scars that lined the side of his face, sexy in their own way. The way they tugged at his upper lip. The image of him never left your mind. 

Of course the rugged man, so rough and tough on the outside, but gentle enough to wake you up without startling you. The way he risks his own life to save others. He had this way about him that just outright captivated you.You were determined to see him again.

And every night, while laying on the cold hard earth, Eskel thought of you. Your humble sweetness. The way you so willingly offered a witcher a spot in your home. All because you thought it was unfair for him to stay at a run down inn. Something so simple, yet it meant the world to him.

He pictured your face and the way it lit up when you saw him walk through the tavern doors. The way your body fit perfectly in front of his kept his imagination running wild. He felt like a teenage boy again, only now he had the freedom to pursue his interests.

You longed for his return, though you knew it was unlikely. While you hummed in the kitchen, wiping off a wet pan, you heard a powerful knock on your door. Uncertainty grew in you. Your home had few visitors, and at the late hour it was, this was highly unusual. 

Against what you thought was your better judgment, you opened the door. It revealed a witcher, doubled over with a hand in the air, falling away as the door fell open fully. 

“Eskel!”

He was covered in blood, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from. He clutched his stomach with one hand and kept the other firmly planted on the ground. 

You kneeled down and removed his hand from his stomach, now seeing the massive wound. If he wasn’t a witcher he would surely be dead. He went along with your motions to get him inside. You didn’t want him to be laying on the floor, but it was the only place the two of you were able to make work. 

Despite your attempts to stop him, he sat up halfway and started to dig through his bag. After digging around, he pulled out a vial and downed its contents. Only then did he lay down, eyes fluttering closed in defeat. 

You worked hard and fast to stop the bleeding, and even when it did you couldn’t tell whether it was because of your work or if he was just healing that quickly. You didn’t even know if your efforts were worth anything.

Once you were done it was a waiting game. You paced the length of your home. The screams of your left side neighbors could be heard, of course they would choose now to have a go at each other. You covered your ears with your hands and kneeled on the floor beside the unconscious Eskel. 

When he still hadn’t woken by midnight, you headed to bed, having nothing but the hope that he would be there when you woke.

Your hands were shaking when you were getting dressed the next morning. And you barely had the courage to go downstairs and face what may or may not even be there. 

To your surprise, he was there. He was kneeling, scrubbing the blood out of your floorboards.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“I could just get a rug.” 

He laughed, causing his muscles to ripple across his torso. When you processed that all he wore were trousers and your bandages, you tensed up.

“How are you feeling? I know that witchers can heal fast, but I guess I don’t know just how fast.”

“I’ll be fine. Just sore, that’s all.” 

“Impressive. Did you manage to kill the beast that did that?”

“Was no beast, just a man. But, yes, he is dead.”

Not knowing how to respond, you offered coffee, which led to several engaging conversations. Half the day had already passed yet neither of you cared for the lost time. 

“I can’t believe you tried to pay me!” You walked over to the jar by the door and slammed it down on the table in front of Eskel. “Can you not accept a bit of kindness?”

“I know the price of kindness toward a witcher. You deserve it.”

“Well I want you to take it back, please.”

Of course, he refused. That is, until he drew back and accepted the coin back.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

After dinner, and a few ales, you set him up on the couch and headed to bed. Both minds plagued with thoughts of the other. Neither able to quiet them.

And when you woke in the morning, he disappeared, once again. 

In the jar by the door there were now more coins than before. And the top corner of a note was tucked under the jar. 

I’m sorry.

That was all it said. The truth was that the witcher had no idea how to say goodbye to you. He ran through it in his mind countless times. But how could he leave one like you? He couldn’t, was the simple answer.

You cried that night, though you didn’t really know why. The witcher put a spell on you and you swore you were cursed. 

You had seen Eskel one more time after that. Not dissimilar to the way he showed up at your doorstep, kneeling and bloodied. After you patched up some minor wounds a night of comradery ensued. 

It was now a year since that night. You were in the forest looking for plants to show the town’s children. It was starting to get dark, so you decided to head back home. That was until you found Eskel. 

He was leaning against a tree, pulling what looked like a tooth out of his shoulder.

“Need any help with that?” 

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” You carefully started working at the fang, trying to keep calm. That’s when you looked up to see him smirking at you. “I’m starting to think you like playing the role of damsel in distress, Eskel.”

“Well, I keep getting saved by this knight in shining armor, why wouldn’t I like it?”

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle before fully unlodging the tooth from his shoulder.

You walked with him while he collected his reward and then led him back to your house where you made dinner and fell back into your routine of staying up until the early hours of the morning while talking about anything and everything.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Join me on the path this year.”

“Eskel…”

“You can patch me up, keep me healthy. It’ll pay well.”

“I don’t know how well I’d be able to do that. I do my best with you, but I know next to nothing about healing or medicine. And besides, I would probably just get in the way.”

“I guarantee you will not get in the way. I enjoy your company.”

You said yes, of course.

***

ending authors note | i don't know how much writing i'm going to get done in the near future, but if you want to be on a taglist, go to the link on my pinned post :)