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The first time Jaskier came to Kaer Morhen the witchers were confused yet curious. They had heard about Geralt’s on and off bard friend a lot over the years and were, overall, delighted to meet him. Geralt had spoken of him highly with such open affection and fondness that Eskel had assumed the pair of them were in a relationship. Lambert had Aiden, after all, and Geralt had his bard.
Eskel had… well he had his goats. He’d tried relationships in the past. There was a part of him that longed for the company. Whenever someone was kind to him and didn’t immediately run for the hills, there was bubble of hope in his chest, that maybe this person would be the one that made him feel those warm overwhelming emotions that all the best poet’s sung about.
Every time he was disappointed. Even when his partners had said that they loved him, or kissed him in the early morning light. There was nothing. Objectively he could see they were attractive. He could see it in their smiles and in the way their eyes twinkled when they laughed. He could see it in the thick dark curls of their hair, or the way the sunlight bounced off golden waves that fell to their waist.
But he wasn’t attracted to them not in the way he longed for, not in the way they wanted of him. Kisses were alright once in a while but he didn’t like it when it developed past that. He felt so indifferent in comparison to his lover’s passion that he just…
He felt lost.
So when Jaskier had thrown his head back and laughed after Lambert had called him Geralt’s boyfriend, Eskel had just stared at the bard.
“Oh ho ho! No.” Jaskier gasped out between laughs. “I’m not. We’re not… we’re just friends.”
Geralt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest, ruffling Jaskier’s hair. “Don’t sound so horrified by the idea of it, Jaskier.”
“Oh shush.” Jaskier swatted him away. “I love you, you bastard, stop fishing for compliments.”
“You just said?” Lambert ran a hand through his hair and furrowed his brow. “Fuck.”
Jaskier sighed and put both hands on his hips. “He’s my best friend. Do you not love your friends, witcher? Fuck, no wonder Geralt took years to bloody admit it. I love him. I’m not in love with him. I don’t go in for romance.”
Aiden cackled and swung his arm around Lambert’s shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss to the redhead’s cheek. “Aww, he’s like you, wolf!”
“Shut up, kitten. Just takes me time. Not all of us fall in love in first sight. It’s gross fairytale shit.” Lambert grumbled but his cheeks lit up in a blush. Eskel frowned. He’d never heard Lambert talk about that before. As far as they’d been aware his relationship with Aiden had been romantic from the start. “What?” Lambert snapped.
“Nothing. Just didn’t know you felt like that.” Eskel grumbled as he scuffed his feet on the floor.
“The vast and beautiful spectrum of love!” Jaskier sang happily and leapt at Geralt. Geralt grunted but caught the bard in his arms. “Melitele knows it is a bard’s bread and butter.”
“Even if you don’t feel it at all?” Eskel muttered quietly.
Jaskier pouted and cupped Geralt’s cheek before jumping back onto the floor. He strolled over to Eskel with a tilt of his head. “Do you love your fellow witchers?”
Eskel frowned and nodded. “They’re family.”
“And the goats?” Jaskier smirked.
Eskel laughed. “Course I do. I’m their dad.”
“What about me? I know you don’t know me that well yet but I like to think we’re friends?” Jaskier looked up at him with wide eyes.
Eskel sighed at the bard’s dramatics. “Fine, yes. You’re not bad bard.”
“Not bad?! Geralt! Tell him.” Jaskier poked Eskel in the chest. “I’m a fucking delight, witcher!”
“Hmm.” Eskel rolled his eyes and swatted Jaskier’s hands away.
“The point is!” Jaskier announced with a flourish. “Love, sex, romance, it can be whatever the fuck you want it to be. Even if you realise that it’s not for you. You glorious witcher, you.”
Eskel offered Jaskier a broad smile and clapped him over the back. “Thank you, bard. That. That means a lot.”
Jaskier beamed up at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Anytime, my dear Eskel, anytime.”