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The Forktail was hardly a fair fight against two witchers. Really it was almost unsportsmanlike, not that anyone -- let alone witchers -- cared about something like that when going up against a two ton flying spitting lizard.
Eskel was regretting taking potions to help prepare for the fight though, his blood was humming under his skin and he was sure his eyes were just as black as Geralt's. Normally that wouldn't bother him half way up the blue mountain, as normally the only one likely to see him in this state were other witchers. But this season Geralt had brought his bard with him.
Who had ever heard of a bard in Kaer Morhen? Not that Eskel didn't like the man, he just meant it would be a rather uncomfortable season of trying not to scare the human. He could see how much Geralt cared for Jaskier, and Eskel would be damned if he were the reason the human ran back to civilization as fast as his feet could carry him.
He settled in to meditate until the potions were out of his system, wondering if he shouldn't try to find any other Forktail nests now instead. It would be at least another hour before he would feel confident returning to the keep without scaring off Geralt's human.
"What are you doing?"
Eskel opened one eye to look at his brother, examining the path the black veins took along the man's face and how pale and waxy his skin was. Any human would run in terror. He had seen it first hand more times than he'd like to remember.
"Waiting. Meditating." He tried to actually settle into meditation but the pulsing behind his eyes wasn't conducive to it.
Geralt gave one of his hums that said he was too tired to figure out what someone was thinking. "Well, I hope whatever you're waiting for comes quickly. I'm going to take a bath."
And just like that he set off back to the keep.
Eskel shot to his feet, keen to follow. Had Geralt forgotten about the potions surging through his veins with every quickened heartbeat? Not likely.
"What about Jaskier?"
"I'm sure he's already had one but he will probably insist on supervising mine. Apparently I do not wash my hair well enough for his tastes," He huffed at the thought and Eskel caught up just in time to see an eye roll that was uncharacteristic of his more stoic brother.
"But that means he'll see you…" and see all polite draperies of humanity shed. There was no way to deny the witcher was anything but what he really was.
Geralt's brow furrowed deeply for a moment but he did not say anything, focusing on the portculus they were quickly coming up on. Eskel was sure Geralt had looked his way since the fight finished but didn't seem to see the problem with Eskel's appearance and his own matching one.
He was about to grab the idiot's arm and explain it to him when he lost his chance. As if in slow motion, eyes filled with horror, Eskel watched the bard run across the courtyard towards them.
He watched the humans face closely, unable to look away even though he did not want to see the look of terror come across his pretty face as he skidded to a stop and ran the other way.
The moment when Jaskier spotted their inhuman monstrous visage and finally realized what sort of danger he must be in didn't come though. Instead the man stopped right in front of Geralt, well within arms reach. Almost chest to chest really.
"Are you hurt?" He asked scanning Geralt's face like he didn't see the black eyes and dark veins and waxen skin. Like he didn't care.
Geralt didn't speak, just shook his head. Eskel could see the smallest smile on his brother's lips as he watched Jaskier take him in.
With a grin, the oblivious bard wrapped the other witcher up in a hug before sliding to one side and all but dragging the man back across the courtyard, completely uncaring of the Forktail blood soaking one sleeve and the… well everything.
"Come on, hurry up. If you move any slower your bath water will be ice cold, and I did not take the time to hear it up just for it to go to waste." He had a soft smile on his face that matched Geralt's and it didn't make any sense.
Eskel watched them go, confused. He blinked in disbelief and took the biggest breath he could. Underneath the heavy scent of blood and death there was the scent of lavender and the scent of contented human and not a single whiff of fear.
He stumbled in a daze until he found his way to the kitchens where Vesemir and Lambert were making lunch. They looked up when he flipped down in a seat.
"Jaskier met us at the gate," He mumbled, closing his demon black eyes and remembering the scene again. He found himself unable to believe such an impossible thing had just happened.
Both men tensed up, surely thinking it had gone poorly. They could see his face, they knew what humans saw when they looked at witchers in the grips of potions. They had been bracing for the worst as well. The whole keep had been holding its breath, waiting for Jaskier to realize he had made a mistake in coming here.
"He's helping Geralt take a bath…"