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Eskel arrived at Kaer Morhen earlier than anticipated this year, still a few weeks off before the frost took hold. He was greeted by Vesemir being followed around by a bunch of young piglets, who had apparently fallen quite smitten with the Master of the keep.
“So…” Eskel had smirked, “Guess we’re not gonna be eating any pork this winter?”
Vesemir scowled, looking down at the four little babies around his ankles. “No. If you get to keep the damn goat, I get my pigs.”
“Fair enough, good luck convincing Lambert though.”
Vesemir hummed before leaving Eskel to brush down Scorpion, and Eskel could hear the contented snuffling sounds of happy piglets weaving between Vesemir’s feet. Li’l Bleater butted against his shin before settling in a bundle of blankets in the corner of the stables, hunkering down for a nap.
A few days passed and Eskel found himself in the library, rebinding a few of the various tomes that have worn down with age. It was a peaceful task that Eskel always enjoyed, tamping down the leather, wrapping and knotting the thick twine neatly down the spine. He had just about finished the first stack of books when a sudden whooshing sound came from his left, followed by a gust of air and a violent shake of his medallion.
In a flash of blue light, Ciri appeared in the library, falling directly on her ass with a loud “oof.” Eskel sighed with a smile at the sight of his youngest family member, setting aside the book in his hands.
“Your aim is getting better, young Swallow,” Eskel said, standing up from his chair by the fire, “But your dismount still needs some work.”
“Uncle Eskel!” Ciri sprung up from the floor and darted into his arms, catching him in a wild embrace. Gods, she’s growing up so fast, Eskel thought as he hugged her tightly before letting her go. Ciri is just about twenty now, having joined Geralt on the Path for a few months before venturing out on her own. Little did she know that the White Wolf had been tracking her the whole time, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
The two of them sat back down in front of the fire while Ciri told him a few of her stories from the past year, including how she took down a slyzard by teleporting onto its back before it took flight.
“Ciri,” Eskel admonished, “that was incredibly dangerous!” Eskel was silently impressed, however, incredibly proud of the young woman in front of him.
Ciri scoffed, taking a sip from her tankard of wine. “Oh please, like you all haven’t done worse.”
Eskel nodded, taking a drink of his own. “Sure, but you know what I always tell you. ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’”
Ciri hummed, and they fell into a companionable silence for a few moments. The crackling of the fire was the only accompaniment to their rest, and Eskel noted the sun setting outside of the window.
As Eskel made to stand up Ciri coughed, looking a bit comfortable. “Uncle Eskel, can I talk to you about something before Geralt gets here?”
Oh, fuck. Eskel sighed with a nod, standing to grab the copy of the Beastiary that used to have a flask of wine. About a year ago Eskel had traded it out for White Gull, knowing it would come in handy someday. And apparently, today was that day.
He sat back down, crossing his legs beneath him as he regarded the young woman. Her bright green eyes were nervous, and she was fidgety where she was stretched out before the fire. Eskel took a sip of the spirit, letting the warmth of the liquor burn down his throat and settle in his stomach.
“So, I found myself in Skellige for a while over the summer,” Ciri started, picking at another loose thread. Eskel smiled, nodding along.
“And I met this girl there, her name is Sala…” Eskel hummed as she spoke, listening to her voice grow smaller and smaller with each word.
“She is so special, Eskel. She made me laugh all the time, and everything just felt so right and warm when I was with her, and-”
“And then?” Eskel murmured, listening intently.
“And then she kissed me...we were up on a cliff, looking at the stars, and she just leaned over and kissed me,” Ciri said, smiling a bit at the memory. “I-no one has ever-”
“That was the first time someone kissed you?” Eskel asked, a genuine grin on his cheeks.
Ciri nodded, closing her eyes as she continued. “Her lips were so soft, and she tasted like cider and fire, and I really, really liked it. I like her, and I miss her already.”
Eskel stood, crossing to the spot where the bookbinding material was. He grabbed an empty bit of parchment and a quill before returning to Ciri, passing her the items as he sat back down. “Write her a letter. Or a bunch of letters. Gods know, between Yennefer’s familiar and her portals and such we should be able to figure out a way for the two of you to keep in touch. You need to keep people like that in your life, Ciri. Don’t let them fall away.”
Ciri looked down at the paper in her hands, looking all the world like the little girl that Geralt had first carried through the gates all those years ago. Then she looked up at Eskel before throwing herself into his arms.
“Thank you, Uncle Eskel. I mean it.”
“I know, little one. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Geralt. But you should.” Eskel replied, feeling her heart speed up where it lay in her chest. “Don’t panic, he’ll be supportive of you no matter what. You know him, he loves you more than the sun loves the moon.”
Ciri nodded before breaking the embrace, offering a small smile as she scooped up her papers and sped off to her room. Eskel sighed as the sun set fully below the horizon, wondering idly just how long it will take until Geralt would arrive. He knew the feeling well, that first fleeting glimpse of what love was like, and how it could wrap you up and make you dizzy with the blink of an eye.
Eskel thought back to his own first kiss, deep in the dormitories of Kaer Morhen, Geralt tucked to his side, their lips pressing together with all of the nervousness of a newborn foal taking her first steps. And he knew how that love could fizzle out from neglect, years of the Path beating the both of them down and making them unrecognizable to their former selves. Eskel also knew how that same love could be rekindled with kindness and trust, letting themselves accept each other in ways that they had never been allowed.
Fuck, he missed Geralt.