Chapter Text
Eskel
Eskel admired the efficient wit of a limerick. He enjoyed a bawdy drinking song. But he’d never cared much for poetry.
That is, until he met Dandelion.
Dandelion loved poetry. That might not have been enough to lead Eskel into his current situation. However, Dandelion also made Eskel feel like a selkie without her coat. That kind of love sickness begged to be expressed, which Eskel didn’t feel capable of doing without some assistance.
That was how he’d ended up here— flipping intensely through a book, trying to find any poem referencing yellow blooms.
It was morning, and Eskel was in the kitchens of Kaer Morhen. He was wearing a brown linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a long white apron tied around his neck and hips. A plate of pork ribs and a bowl of bread were on the table in front of him. He was sitting on a bench he'd made with his own hands from the trees surrounding the keep.
Eskel felt more comfortable in the kitchen than in the cavernous dining hall. So he’d built a table and put it in the kitchen near the stove. Eskel was at ease there, so he usually chose it for family talks.
He’d asked his brothers and Vesemir to meet him this morning because he had an announcement. Dandelion was coming for a visit. Eskel wasn't exactly looking forward to the conversation. He knew they were going to rake him over the coals. You try convincing a bunch of ruffian witchers that the man you hired for sex actually likes you when you aren’t paying him.
But that wasn’t why he was nervous. He was nervous because he’d only spent one full day with Dandelion. That day was a single shining point in time that felt far too good to be true. Such a thing feels like a dream. Like it could fall apart in your hands. Disintegrate like an illusion crafted by an especially cruel sorceress.
But it had surely happened. Eskel’s steel pendant was gone from his neck. That proved Dandelion had accepted his gift. Dandelion had also agreed to visit. So if Eskel had to face down a couple of dubious brothers, then he would. But his nerves were such that he’d barely touched the absurdly lavish breakfast he’d made.
Lambert plopped down on the other side of the table. Eskel blinked. He was still staring at the book but realized he hadn’t comprehended anything on the page for the last few moments. He closed the book and faced his younger brother.
“What’s up?” Asked Lambert.
He grabbed a pork rib off of Eskel’s plate and bit off a sloppy bite. He stretched as he chewed. Lambert had obviously awoken recently. His tunic was lying on him crooked. His short receding hair was rumpled. His canny eyes were still relaxed and lazy.
Eskel looked around. “I wanted to talk to everyone.”
“Well fuck Geralt, he’s primping.”
“Primping?” Eskel asked.
“He’s headed back out. Gotta get his hairband on just right. Spit it out, goat dad.”
Eskel decided he should just get started. Lambert would be antagonizing him the longest, so he might as well give him a head start.
“I met someone. He’s coming for a visit this winter.”
Lambert waggled his eyebrows and took another bite of the meat. His fingers were sloppy now.
“A visit, ay? You’ve never brought someone for a visit. Must be serious.”
“He’s special,” said Eskel.
“Well hell. Where’d you meet him? You were just working in Temeria, right? He that leather worker on south street? He seems your type.”
Eskel knit his brow. “What do you know about my type?”
“I don’t know. He’s dumb and handsome. Knows how to dress.”
“I. No.” Said Eskel. Where did Lambert get his ideas? “He works at Madam Novak’s brothel.”
Eskel knew this next part was coming, so he just settled in.
“A whore, Eskel? You serious?” Lambert said, incredulity and pork tumbling from his mouth. He swallowed and tried again. “You know they’re paid to like you, right?”
“Get it all out,” said Eskel, waving his hand in a gesture of mock generosity.
“Brother, when they say you’re the strongest hottest hunk of love they’ve ever met, that is built into the price.”
“Done yet?” Asked Eskel.
“I’m fucking with you but the point is, maybe don’t get your hopes up for a visit,” said Lambert.
“He’s coming,” said Eskel.
“They can fake that too you know,” said Lambert with a knowing grin.
Eskel rolled his eyes. A tiny voice in the back of his head agreed that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. No part of him doubted Dandelion's sincerity. It just hardly felt real anymore now that he was in drafty crumbling Kaer Morhen with livestock to care for and stairwells to fix. So far from the spiced candles. The honeysuckle wine. The strong smooth thighs clenched to his sides. The Please Eskel I need you. It was as if he were remembering it through a veil.
Geralt ambled into the room. He was fully dressed, hairband securely in place. He smelled like citrus and his angles were sharp. His clean black tunic created a striking contrast with his white hair. His tunic was tucked into tight black trousers. Eskel swore he must have to sew those things on. But fuck if they didn’t look good.
“Morning. What’s the news, Eskel?” Geralt saw the ribs on Eskel’s plate and his face opened in eagerness.
“Eskel met a whore who was nice to him so now he thinks he’s getting married.” Said Lambert, and he swatted Eskel’s shoulder playfully.
Geralt shot Lambert an irritated look. “I didn’t ask you, asshole.”
Lambert flipped him off.
Geralt swung his legs over the bench and settled next to Eskel. He grabbed a piece of meat off his plate.
“Does anyone cook their own food in this house?” Asked Eskel. But he wasn’t bothered. He’d made triple what he needed because his brothers were nothing if not predictable.
“You know that piece was for me,” said Geralt with a wink.
Eskel smiled and nudged Geralt’s arm with his elbow.
“It was.”
“Oh stop flirting, you two.” Said Lambert.
“You’re just jealous.” Said Geralt. “So what’s going on, brother.”
“I met someone. He’s coming to visit in the winter.” Now Eskel had said it out loud twice, but he could still barely contain the jittery excitement and the whiff of fear. The fear that it wouldn’t really happen. That it hadn’t happened to begin with.
“Where’d you meet him?” asked Geralt.
“He works at Madam Novak’s brothel.”
“Hmmmm.” Said Geralt.
He could see Geralt choosing his words carefully.
“He works for Madam Novak?” He asked.
“Yes.” Said Eskel.
“Did you meet him…at his work?” Asked Geralt.
“Yes I was a client. I was paying. Though he gave me far more than what I arranged with the madam.”
“But you paid extra anyway didn’t you?” Asked Lambert.
Eskel was silent.
“See? He knew you were a soft touch,” said Lambert. Geralt raised his eyebrows in tacit agreement.
“Is it possible that someone likes me as I am?” Asked Eskel.
“No.” Said Lambert.
“Fuck you Lambert.” Said Geralt.
“Nothing personal. It applies to me too.” Protested Lambert. “A couple of plug ugly witchers.” Then he pointed at Geralt. “Doesn’t apply to you though pretty boy, you get laid all the time so fuck off.”
Eskel rubbed the mass of scarring on his face.
“See he only does that when he’s upset,” said Geralt. “Leave him alone.”
Eskel blurted out “I used axii on him.”
The silence was swift and complete. It hung there for a moment before Geralt punctured it.
“You what?” Asked Geralt.
The pork ribs were forgotten. He twisted his body on the bench to look fully at Eskel.
“I know what it sounds like. I only used it because he asked me to. To find out what he really thought of me.” Said Eskel. “He said I was...” Eskel stopped. He couldn’t even say the word gorgeous out loud. It was too ridiculous in the light of day under Lambert’s insistent glare.
“He said you were what??” Asked Lambert.
Eskel sighed. “He said he liked me. I didn’t believe him. So he told me to use axii to ask him for the truth.”
“You fuck him on axii?” Asked Geralt, his voice still strained with disbelief.
“Eskel!” Said Lambert. “You dog! I would’ve expected better from you.”
“No! No!” Said Eskel.
“Did you plant suggestions? Is that why he wants you?” Asked Lambert.
“No!” Insisted Eskel. “I only asked him what he thought of me. Then I took it off!!!”
He had meant to stay calm during this little chat. He had not planned to mention the axii at all. But he’d felt the childish need to prove that Dandelion liked him, so it had just tumbled out.
“What did he say?” Asked Geralt, throwing him a lifeline.
“That I rescued his niece from a basilisk when he was a youngling and he’d always had a crush on me.”
Lambert was staring, jaw still open.
“Lety Pankratz?” Asked Geralt. “The one you ripped from the creature's stomach?”
“Yes! That’s his niece.” Eskel said.
“I remember that. Wasn’t that like..ten years back?” Asked Geralt.
“I remember that too,” said Lambert. “I always wondered. How’d a little girl get picked off by a fuckin basilisk?”
“They were sheep shearing, which takes two people.” Said Eskel. “It was just him and his sister after their parents and her husband all died of a plague. They thought the little one was occupied in the house but she’d wandered off on her own.”
“I didn’t think basilisks usually came that close to town.” Said Lambert.
“There was a fire that day out in the caves. So the creature was driven closer. Just bad luck all around.”
“Good thing you were nearby.” Said Geralt, shaking his head.
Vesemir walked in then. He had clearly been up the longest. He was already sweating, likely from starting his chores before the sun rose. He had work boots on and his gray hair was tied back.
“What are you pups barking about?” He asked.
“Eskel met someone. He’s coming for a visit,” said Geralt, reaching for more food from Eskel’s plate.
Vesemir looked at Eskel. Then his eyes dropped to the book still sitting closed at his elbow.
“Don’t bring books to the table. You see how these animals eat.” Said Vesemir.
Geralt and Lambert looked up from their ribs, both faces smeared with gravy. Geralt hastily rubbed his face with his hands and then wiped his fingers on Eskel's pants under the table.
“Hey!” Eskel protested.
“What?” Asked Geralt, completely straight faced apart from the tiniest quirk of his lips.
Vesemir swiped the book and moved it to a shelf. “So who’d you meet?” He asked. “You’ve never brought anyone to Kaer Morhen before. He must be special.”
“His name is Julian. Goes by Dandelion,” said Eskel.
Lambert choked and then slammed his chest with his fist.
“I should just wait to eat until you’re done with this whole damn thing.” Said Lambert. “Dandelion? You’re talking about Dandelion??”
Geralt whistled low under his breath.
“You’ve heard of him?” Asked Eskel.
“Course I have.” Said Lambert.
“Me too,” said Geralt. “Supposed to be gorgeous.”
“Heard he’s fuckin talented.” Said Lambert.
“He is all of those things.” Said Eskel smugly.
“And he wants you? Conveniently. After you used axii on him?” Said Lambert.
Geralt threw a piece of bread at Lambert’s face.
“Jackass,” said Geralt.
“You two always gang up on me.” Said Lambert.
“If you weren’t such a cunt we wouldn’t have to,” Said Geralt.
Vesemir walked to the barrel of mead in the corner and drew a pitcher.
“I was glad to have you all here for an unseasonal visit. And now all you can do is ride my nerves with your bickering.”
He set the pitcher on the table along with some mugs.
“He had to be impressed.” Vesemir said. “You cutting the girl out. Hell, I was impressed. We all were. I made you a pendant for it if I remember right.”
Eskel nodded. Unthinkingly he touched his neck. Lambert noticed. Fuck.
“Where is it?” Asked Lambert.
“I left it in my room,” said Eskel. If only he could stop giving his brothers more opportunities to be irritating.
“Ha.” Said Lambert. “You’re the worst liar on the continent. When you lie, you can’t look anyone in the eyes.”
Geralt chuckled. “It’s true. You gaze at the ceiling when you lie.” His chuckle rolled into a laugh. “Like a baby with a stolen sweet.”
Eskel tried not to look at the ceiling but ended up looking at the floor which wasn’t much better.
“Seriously. Why are you lying?” Asked Lambert.
Geralt caught his eye despite Eskel's best efforts.
“Did you--?” Asked Geralt. He stopped.
Eskel looked at him pleadingly.
“Donkey balls,” said Lambert. “You gave it to Dandelion.”
Eskel said nothing. To give himself somewhere else to look, he picked up his mug and drank deep.
“You did.” Said Geralt firmly.
Eskel was chugging now. Lambert slapped the table and let out a “Wowwwwww.”
Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh Eskel.”
“Vesemir makes us those in the Kaer Morhen forge.” Said Lambert. “They mean something. And you gave it to a man you’ve literally met once and who you were paying to like you.”
“Twice.” Said Eskel. “I met him twice. And I know they mean something.”
“This doesn’t bother you?” Asked Lambert, turning to Vesemir.
“When you give a gift, you let it go.” Said Vesemir, shrugging and taking a seat next to Lambert. “If you continue to grip it, it was never truly a gift.”
“I guess so.” Said Lambert.
“And saving a life he loved? That’s no frivolous connection.” Said Vesemir. “It must have meant everything to him. How old was he then?”
“He was fifteen years of age at the time.” Said Eskel. “I didn’t even recognize him when I saw him last week. So grown and in all his finery.”
“He gets his lingerie handmade from Oxenfurt.” Said Lambert, taking a long drag of his mead, then wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “It’s silk. Floral dyes enchanted for richness.The lace is silk too, with gold threading.”
Eskel remembered how his fingers felt sliding across the silk. Sliding the silk off of Dandelion. How it looked dotted with precum.
“Of course your Dandelion is welcome.” Said Vesemir. “And these two will behave or they’ll find my boot up their asses.”
“Hey, don’t lump me in with him.” Said Geralt.
“It’ll be good to have some beauty and culture around here for a change,” said Vesemir.
Eskel beamed.
“Oh just because Eskel is your favorite.” Grumbled Lambert.
“If you weren’t such cunt you’d be his favorite,” said Geralt. Lambert kicked him under the table. Geralt grunted like an irritated mare and kicked him back.
Vesemir shook his head. “Can you two stop?”
Lambert crossed his arms.
“Forgive me for caring enough about this lovestruck dummy to tell him the truth. You’ll all smile and be polite while he gets his heart drawn and quartered.”
“He’s an adult Lambert,” said Vesemir. “And if he’s happy we’re happy.”
Eskel held out his plate, offering Vesemir some ribs. The old witcher rubbed his belly.
“Oh no. Not for me. Meat for breakfast makes you lazy. It’s a breakfast for people who have no intention of getting any work done.”
Normally Lambert would tease Vesemir for lecturing them on the evils of a heavy breakfast. But he was not done with the topic of Eskel’s love life.
“You cannot honestly say you aren’t suspicious of this,” said Lambert, looking to Geralt for support.
“Hmmmm.” Said Geralt. Everyone knew that was his annoyed hmmm. But he didn’t argue the point either.
Vesemir leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him on the table and looking at the rest of them meaningfully.
”Uh oh. Here comes the wisdom.” Said Lambert.
Vesemir handily ignored the remark. There were times Eskel thought Vesemir was going deaf. But no. He was just incredibly adept at ignoring any of them when he needed to.
“You pups would do well to remember that witchers and whores are natural allies.”
Lambert held up his hands as though in surrender. “Nothing wrong with the profession. Just with Eskel being an idiot and not understanding the fuckin arrangement,” he protested.
“How’s that?” Asked Eskel, looking at Vesemir. He’d get the hang of ignoring Geralt and Lambert too.
“We have the same enemies.” Said Vesemir. “Zealotry. Hypocrisy. Clerics. Politicians looking for scapegoats. And when they go to burn down a brothel, we’re their next stop, and no mistake. Never forget why the keep is crumbled and the bones of witchers line the moat.”
They were all silent. They knew Vesemir had only survived the siege by playing dead under the corpses of their friends. Even Lambert shut up.
“Think of it this way.” Said Vesemir. “We both provide a necessity. Survival. But they hate that they need us. Same thing.” Shrugged the old witcher.
Eskel could feel Lambert struggling to keep his mouth shut. His brothers had been silenced but they obviously still had doubts. They clearly thought he, a century old mutant monster killer, was a babe in the woods. Eskel sighed inwardly. Maybe he was, at least in matters of the heart. He’d rarely gotten this kind of attention before the face scars. And after? Almost never. So yes, maybe he allowed himself to fall. To plummet as far and as fast as love’s gravity would take him. But wasn’t that braver? Braver than Lambert, who alienated people before he could be rejected? Braver than Geralt, who grunted at people and waited for them to go away?
Eskel knew Dandelion was sincere and that was all that mattered.
And as for his brothers misgivings? He wasn’t worried. If Dandelion. WHEN Dandelion came to visit they were all going to fall in love with him. Eskel couldn’t conceive of a person immune to his angel’s charms. He just had to get him here.