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The fire was crackling loudly, heaped high with plenty of logs to keep it burning through the night. Eskel nudged one of the longer pieces of wood with his poker and smiled when it fell into the gap closer to the heart of the flames. Satisfied, he shuffled away and turned back to face the gathering of people sat in the main hall of the keep. Vesemir had gone to bed already, leaving them to enjoy their antics undisturbed, so that left Geralt, sat in an armchair nearby, Jaskier, who was splayed out across Geralt’s lap, Lambert and Aiden. The last two appeared to be engaged in some sort of pillow fight as far as Eskel could make out from the laughter and feathers whirling around them. Eskel smiled to himself, hiding it behind his tankard of ale.
It had been a good idea to bring the Cat and the bard home for the winter, he thought, as he watched over them with his brothers. They seemed happy together, and Aiden certainly soothed some of Lambert’s rougher edges. It was nice to see his brother be able to show a slightly softer side of himself. Even if it wasn’t by much or very often, it still looked like progress to Eskel. And as for Geralt…
Currently, he was purring in the armchair, eyes closed and mouth drooping open as Jaskier petted him, tenderly scratching his scalp and rubbing circles across his chest. Eskel bit his lip to keep a well-meaning chuckle to himself. His brother and the bard were adorable together.
Eskel had never much felt the need to find a person to settle down with, more than content to spend time with his brothers and friends. Even seeing his family like this, he knew it wasn’t for him. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t pleased for the rest of them. However, this evening they had gathered with a particular plan in mind. So, all things considered, Eskel felt no guilt at all in placing his mug on the floor and noisily clearing his throat, before bellowing-
“When’s this game getting started, then?”
To his left, Jaskier yelped and would’ve fallen off of Geralt’s lap had it not been for muscular arms reeling him back in with a quiet peal of laughter. To his right, there was a resounding thump as Aiden took Lambert’s momentary distraction to his advantage, and walloped the other man over the head with his pillow, sending feathers shooting out in all directions. Lambert growled at him as he spat a feather out of his mouth before looking over at Eskel.
“How does now work, you prick?” He said, a scowl fixed on his face. Aiden leant over and kissed his cheek, and Eskel couldn’t contain his laughter as he watched his brother’s eyebrows shoot up and his face turn a little pink.
“Suits me,” Geralt muttered. He was still holding Jaskier close to his chest, and the bard was occasionally pressing soft kisses along his jawline. Really, it was going to be very difficult not to coo at them at some point if they were going to be this cute all evening, Eskel thought. He pulled himself to his feet with a grunt and headed for the table.
“Coming then?”
Leaving Geralt to sort out the Gwent cards and explain how their little tournament would work, Eskel wandered into the kitchen to fetch some more jugs of ale. He paused for a moment, thinking, before reaching into the pantry and snagging a few small bottles from the top shelf, and a larger one of Lambert’s questionable home-brewed vodka. He hoped it wouldn’t kill Jaskier- he took a quick sniff and winced. Lambert had certainly made a potent batch last time. He walked back into the hall with his supplies, still wrinkling his nose at the stench.
Lambert chuckled when he caught sight of his face. “Gods, Esk, it’s only vodka!”
Eskel suppressed a wince. “Bloody strong vodka though isn’t it? Even the smell burns.”
Somehow that drew the bard’s attention. He perked up from his place on the bench next to Geralt, and bounced over, waggling his fingers towards the bottle.
“Give it here, I want to smell it!” Eskel and Lambert shared a look before Eskel shrugged and handed it over. Jaskier popped the cork out of the bottle and shoved his nose over the top of it, inhaling the smell. Not even a second later, he started gagging and choking and thrust the bottle back out to Eskel.
“Fucking hell, what is in that?” he coughed into his hand, doubling over. “Gods above, Lambert, that’s lethal.” He took in a deep breath, shoulders shuddering. He stood up straight. “Pour me a shot.”
An hour later saw a very drunk Jaskier lying half asleep across the table as Geralt and Lambert battled it out to see who would win the final game of Gwent. Eskel was spinning one of the small bottles between his fingers, dopey grin on his face. Aiden’s smile was similarly goofy, another empty bottle of White Gull lying on the table next to him. Eskel watched as he spread himself out across Lambert’s shoulders and began whispering in his ear.
Eskel swallowed, hardly able to make up the words Aiden was saying as he watched Lambert’s face turn pink. Geralt smirked at them across the table as he played his next card. Lambert growled, tried to shove Aiden off of his shoulders, and threw down a card without looking in his frustration. Geralt’s smirk turned distinctly smug as he laid another card. Eskel laughed openly, his head tipping back as Lambert started squawking about cheating and how Geralt and Aiden were obviously in cahoots, until Aiden took pity on him and pressed a kiss against his forehead. Lambert stuttered to a halt, his blush darkening further.
Geralt scooped up the rest of his cards and packed them away. He took another swig of his White Gull and snorted as he looked over at Jaskier who was still slumped over the table.
“Should I move him upstairs or..?” Geralt started, voice slurring slightly from all the White Gull. He blinked heavily and Eskel smiled at him.
“Got a better idea,” he heaved himself to his feet, staggering slightly as he stood. “C’mon.” Moving back over to the fire, he threw down several furs and pillows, carefully ignoring the ones Lambert and Aiden had destroyed earlier. Once he had created a nice cosy nest in front of the fire, Geralt and Eskel carefully carried Jaskier over to settle in nice and warm. Eskel stumbled back over to the table, slumping down in front of the others.
“Wanna sit up a while longer or are you done for the night, too?” Eskel said, glancing back over at Geralt, who was now curled up around Jaskier, stroking his hair with an adoring look in his shining amber eyes.
Aiden nuzzled into Lambert’s neck, purring softly. “Had enough of swapping stories over cards yet, Lamb?” Lambert grumbled a little, knocking back the last of his drink. He stood suddenly, knocking the table with his knee, and swearing vehemently as he did so.
Eskel watched silently as the two witchers went and flopped into the pile of blankets, snuggling into Geralt and Jaskier, limbs tangling all over the place. Aiden’s head had somehow ended up in Lambert’s lap, and Jaskier’s face was smushed up against Geralt’s chest. He sighed, feeling very satisfied as he watched the four men wriggle to situate themselves comfortably. He took a sip of ale, knowing they would only have to shift and refigure their positions when he moved over, but for the moment he just wanted to enjoy a peaceful moment, contented in the knowledge that his brothers and friends were comfortable.
“Esk? You coming or what?” Lambert’s voice broke through the peaceful moment, making Eskel startle a little, mug jumping in his grip, and eyes blinking furiously.
“Uh, in a minute,” he mumbled. Lambert’s piercing yellow eyes stared back at him.
“You know I always sleep better when you’re there. Come on, Eskel,” Lambert’s voice held a whiny quality that Eskel knew he would deny until the day he died. Well, if he was going to complain about it, then Eskel supposed he had no choice. He abandoned his mug and settled himself cosily in the pile by fire, smiling when Lambert hummed happily and settled his head on Eskel’s chest at lightning speed. He snuffled happily and dropped his hand to rest on Lambert’s chest. He felt so warm, so loved… the last thing he was aware of before he fell asleep was Geralt’s hand finding his own and clutching it softly as they both drifted off.