Archive of Our Own ^beta

Geralt feels Jaskier shiver beside him but doesn't worry. It’s not the cold of winter that makes him tremble, but the prospect of entering the walls of Kaer Morhen for the first time. It took a while for Geralt to trust Jaskier enough to invite him to the keep and even longer to ask. Jaskier would never consciously hurt him or his family, but the path to the Keep is fiercely kept secret by its remaining guardians. The last time a human had set foot in his home, Geralt had lost his entire world in the span of a few hours. The pogrom that took his whole family might have happened decades ago, but it still lives fresh in his mind.

Geralt stops a few hundred meters from the gates to give Jaskier time to take in the view. Kaer Morhen is almost in ruins now, but it still stands tall and proud. He could see dozens of questions already forming on the bard’s mind. Tonight, and probably the rest of winter, will be filled with new notes and extravagant stories about his home. Jaskier likes to exaggerate things because he wants people to see life as he does. Big and beautiful. Geralt finds he doesn’t mind that as much anymore as he once did. 

A noise on his left side alerts him of Eskel’s presence, and as Geralt tears his gaze away from his home, he spots his brother as he appears between the trees, a stag curled around his broad shoulders and a few birds on his belt. A small smile forms on his lips. He hoped Eskel would be here already.

“Wolf! You took your time coming this year.”

Jaskier's eyes immediately tear away from the Keep to find Eskel's powerful silhouette. Geralt hears Jaskier’s low gasp and doesn’t have to turn toward his friend to know the kind of expression on his face. He can smell it well enough. Instead, he moves towards his brother, leaving Jaskier behind to calm down on his own. Without surprise, Eskel drops the stag and engulfs him in a bear hug as soon as they reach each other. They quietly check on one another, murmuring little things Jaskier can’t hear. Eskel knows Jaskier, they met before, so there are no tensions in his voice when he murmurs, “You brought him.” It’s not a question, but Geralt hears the cautious happiness in his brother’s words. The three had met not so long ago, in early fall, and Geralt had seen fondness grow between Eskel and Jaskier during the five days they had spent together. These few days had settled Geralt’s mind and were the reason Jaskier would spend winter with them this year. Maybe nothing would come of it. Perhaps they would find friendship, maybe something more. It didn’t matter as long as he felt he did right by his brother and his companion. 

After a moment, Eskel releases him and turns toward their guest.

“Good to see you again, Jaskier.”

“It’s so nice to see you as well!” Jaskier says with a big grin that makes Geralt roll his eyes. He knows this expression all too well. It’s the “I’m gonna get in trouble, and I love it already” kind of grin Jaskier always has before he does something incredibly idiotic. Granted, Geralt hopes for something to blossom between these two, but he would prefer if Jaskier could wait until they are inside to climb Eskel like a tree. Preferably somewhere deep inside the keep where he cannot see nor hear either of them. He wants his brother to be happy, but there are limits to what he wants to see. Or smell. Eskel, utterly oblivious like always, just drapes the stag back over his shoulders.

“Let’s get you both out of the cold, and this-” he shrugs to indicate the animal “-delivered to the kitchen.”

***

They enter the Great Hall to find Lambert and Vesemir by a big table near the fire. Eskel disappears through a small door on their left to put down his hunt in the kitchen. Geralt gives Jaskier a sign to stay back while the three Witchers in the room have a private conversation. The older Witcher doesn’t seem thrilled to see a human enter his home. Still, Geralt must manage to convince Vesemir quickly enough that his companion is no threat to them since Jaskier doesn’t end up immediately tossed back on his ass outside the Keep.

Jaskier has never met the other two occupants, but he can guess who they are. Vesemir is not particularly cold towards him when he introduces himself, nor is he as warm as he is with the others. But Jaskier knows enough about what happened here to understand he’s the one who’s going to have to mend the gap between them. He doesn’t mind. He’s fascinated entire courts in hours with a few songs, and he has the whole winter to prove himself to Vesemir. It’s going to be an exciting challenge. 

And finally, Jaskier meets Lambert. Usually, Lambert is the last one home, but Geralt took more time ascending the Killer than he normally does, finding the safest trails for Jaskier. So when they reach the Keep, the younger Witcher has been home for two days already. Jaskier and Lambert size each other up immediately. Lambert goes so far as circling him a few times and sniffing him (purely to be creepy, Jaskier suspects, Lambert can smell him well enough at a distance) before they both seem to settle into a quiet understanding. Jaskier looks over at Geralt, who seems more anxious than relieved to see Lambert and Jaskier so easily comfortable with each other. No doubt he expected something more...dramatic. Jaskier smirks at him, Geralt rolls his eyes. 

After the introductions are done, while the other starts to talk about provisions and repairs and other things Jaskier can’t add to, he takes in the size of the room he’s in. The Great Hall had this name for a good reason, and Jaskier has no trouble imagining how grandiose it must have been when the Keep was full of life. There are even still a few tapestries hanging here and there.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Jaskier slightly jumps, startled. He doesn’t miss Eskel's small chuckle. Bastard , he thinks, amused too.

“Yes, it really is!” he says, turning a little towards the man on his left. “Geralt talked about your home on very rare occasions, but I never quite grasped how big it was before.”

“It used to be even bigger, but most of it is closed off now. It’s hard enough to keep the few rooms we use from crumbling down.” Eskel answers, melancholy evident in his voice.

“Well, maybe it’s better for me anyway. This room is so big, I’m in danger of getting lost going from one side of it to the other!” Jaskier replies theatrically, earning him a delightful little laugh from Eskel. “I’m going to need a map just to get my breakfast!” he keeps on, not wanting to make Eskel sad with their first conversation of the season.

“The Great Hall could house four hundred of us. And we only lost five or six recruits to it every year.” Jaskier is delighted to see him play along. “But don’t worry, little bard, I’ll keep my eyes on you just in case”, Eskel answers with a smirk, happy to jump right back into whatever they had started in the fall.

“Good. I’ll scream if I need you to come then”, Jaskier answers without missing a bit, smirking back when Eskel’s eyes go wide.

The Witcher doesn’t have time to answer before Geralt interrupts them to show Jaskier to his room. Eskel watches Jaskier leave, a pleasant warmth spreading in his belly. Winter is going to be very interesting this year.

***

All in all, things go easier than Geralt has anticipated, which is a first when Jaskier is directly concerned. Vesemir always keeps a few extra rooms ready in case Coën or another Witcher decides to visit them for the winter. It doesn’t take long for Jaskier to settle and feel comfortable once the fire is lit. 

“You sure they are alright with me staying?” Jaskier asks Geralt while he unpacks.

“Don’t expect Vesemir to be any more welcoming than he was, but as long as you don’t do anything stupid, and you agree to help, he’ll let you stay. I told him not to worry. I’m not even sure you could lift a sword if your life depended on it, much less attack us.”

“Excuse me! I’m stronger than I look! And silver swords don’t weigh that much!”

“True. Just don’t go near the armoury or any of the weapons, please?”

“Sure. Is the food we brought enough too?”

”There is plenty to go around. We always get extra in case Coën or a Bear shows up. And Eskel likes to hunt, even late in the season. He likes to make sure we’re provided for.”

“Does he?”

“He’s always been like that, even when we were little. He used to steal food for me when I got punished.”

“Bet you got punished plenty.” Jaskier answers, amused.

“Oh, don’t let his proper appearance fool you. He was the one getting us in trouble. He was just better at getting out of it!”

“I sense a story! Tell me everything!”

“Ask me again when I’m drunk…” Geralt replies, heading for the door, a relaxed and amused expression on his face. 

Jaskier likes that side of Geralt, less guarded, more talkative. Being home must feel a lot safer to him. Geralt is almost out when he turns around slightly back toward Jaskier.

“Be careful with him, Jaskier?” Geralt asks with a slight frown. He wants Eskel to be happy, but he knows Jaskier and how volatile his feelings can be.

The man nods, a sudden knot forming in his stomach. He likes Eskel. He’s not going to fuck this up, whatever this is.

***

Snow has been falling steadily for two days now, pretty much since they arrived, and Geralt tells Jaskier he only has a day or two at most to change his mind and go back to court before The path down the mountain becomes completely impassable. Which is saying something considering Jaskier nearly died twice when the trail was only just a little frozen over (Geralt doesn’t tell him he took the long easy road).  But it doesn’t matter. Why would he leave when he has the opportunity to spend the whole winter with four of the most incredible men he has ever met? Especially a certain brown-haired, tall witcher with a smile that makes him feel weak in the knees. And kind, curious amber eyes Jaskier always finds looking back at him. 

Eskel and Jaskier had met for the first time in the days right in between summer and fall. When the days were still pleasantly hot and the nights turning cold and misty. Eskel had immediately left an impression. Jaskier was eager to spend more time with the man he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind for months now. He was usually content to spend winter at Oxenfurt, understanding that Geralt needed a little break to spend time with his family. But Jaskier had not been subtle about wanting to see Eskel again. Geralt had not mentioned his brother had been curious about the bard for years.

At first, everything seems fine with Eskel, and Jaskier enjoys himself very much. Both of them flirt a lot, and it makes Geralt content to see his brother and his best friend enjoying each other’s company. The days are filled with chores, and Jaskier is glad to help as often as he can. Well, maybe not happy, physical work has never been his forte, but he doesn’t mind helping all that much. He’s told that training will become an indoor activity when there’s too much snow in the courtyard. Which Jaskier is looking forward to because he’s currently freezing his balls off watching them. He’s wrapped in the heaviest cloak Geralt could find to protect him from the wind and snow. He technically could be peeling vegetables inside, but he’d rather watch them than be alone in the kitchen. They are all gorgeous, and Jaskier doesn't want to waste any opportunity to observe them and tell all the Witchers what he thinks of their physics, particularly when they train altogether. This morning, Geralt manages to disarm Eskel with a clever flick of his sword, and Jaskier cheers him on a little.

“Someone is slow today. Heavy breakfast, maybe?” Geralt says with a smirk while Eskel jogs to get his sword back where it landed. “Come on, you lazy ass, give me at least a little bit of a workout”, Geralt says to provoke him.  

Eskel snarls at that, Geralt has been getting on his nerves all morning with little comments, and Jaskier nearly takes off one of his fingers with the vegetable knife when the sound of Eskel’s deep voice hits him and gives him a full-body shiver. Vesemir parries one of Lambert’s jabs, and without even stopping his fight, yells “no signs!” in their direction, stopping Eskel in his movement. The Witcher changes tactics immediately and starts running at full speed toward Geralt.

Geralt barely has time to brace himself. Jaskier hears a little worried ‘fuck’ from him and sees Eskel launching himself at Geralt, hitting him hard enough to send them both tumbling two meters away, Geralt’s sword lying forgotten on the ground. He ends up flat on his back, winded, with Eskel looming over him. From Jaskier’s point of view, the entire thing looks ridiculous, but he loves seeing Eskel slam into Geralt.

“Call me lazy again…”

“That cheating, you fucker, I haven’t gotten back in shape yet!”

“That’s what you get for provoking your enemies. It’s reckless.” Vesemir says when he reaches them, abandoning training with Lambert when the younger wolf starts laughing too hard at his brother’s new “technique”. Jaskier and Lambert both join them just a second later. “Agility and speed are important”, Vesemir says to all of them, “but utilising all your advantages, including a heavier body, should not be disregarded. Even if this is a little… unconventional”, he says, looking at Eskel and frowning a little.

“I bet you didn’t expect to fight something so big this morning, Geralt”, Jaskier says jokingly, throwing an appreciative look towards Eskel. He laughs and misses Eskel’s flinch.

“I didn’t know eating like three people was a skill. Well done, Eskel, that finally came in handy”, Lambert says.

“Get off. You’re bloody heavy”, Geralt tells Eskel at the same time, shoving him away halfheartedly.

“Sorry”, he answers Geralt, a little sheepish.

“I wanna try that, but I’m gonna need all my winter fat before I’m half as heavy as Eskel”, Lambert continues, hitting his stomach softly.

“Don’t you fucking dare”, Geralt replies, accepting Eskel’s hand to get up from the ground.

“We’ll revisit that idea in the spring, once I’ve had time to eat and get big”, Lambert says, throwing his arm around Jaskier’s shoulder and giving him a wink and a big mischievous grin.

“Wonderful idea. I’m sure you’ll all be even more gorgeous when you get back in shape.” 

The comment is aimed at Lambert, who hasn’t been at The Keep for long yet and is still lean from his year on The Path. But if Jaskier missed Eskel’s first flinch, he definitely noticed the second. He frowns and adds, “Not that you aren’t all already”, looking pointedly toward Eskel this time. “But I always think Geralt looks gorgeous when we meet in the spring, and he’s all rested from the winter. I mean, is there anything better than a powerful muscular man, healthy and ale and ready to…”

“Alright, that’s enough of this. The bard is about to combust spontaneously just looking at all of you. Go run the walls. Jaskier, go finish peeling the potatoes in the kitchen.”

Eskel is the first to run away, Geralt on his toes. Vesemir goes to the training dummies to work on his own for a while.

“What did I do?” Jaskier asks Lambert in a low voice while the others move away.

“We have a keen sense of smell, as you know, and you smell like you’re about to jump one of us right here and now.”

“Is that a proposition, Witcher?” Jaskier answers, unashamed.

“Don’t think you could keep up, Bard,” Lambert answers with a smirk, letting his arm drop and walking away backwards.

“Lambert, get a move on, or I’ll make you run The Killer until you drop dead!” Vesemir yells from the other side of the courtyard.

“Not that it wouldn’t be fun, but you wouldn’t be my first choice anyway”, Jaskier answers petulantly. Lambert just laughs at him a little and turns around to run with his brothers before Vesemir tans his hide. Lambert knows when he has no chances. As much as he enjoys flirting a little with the bard, too, Eskel obviously has captured Jaskier’s attention.

***

A few days pass, making it nearly a whole week since their arrival at Kaer Morhen, and Jaskier keeps on practising his favourite activity. Which is gushing loudly over the four of them before Vesemir inevitably banishes him inside for being too disruptive. Geralt is pretty much used to it by now and doesn't bat an eye when Jaskier comments on the musculature of his ass (he does, on one memorable occasion, bat away a wandering hand, though). Vesemir only rolls his eyes fondly when Jaskier tries, very respectfully, to comment on the size of his biceps by comparing them with tree trucks (not his best metaphor). And any comment directed at Lambert is met with a smirk or a wink, or both. Sometimes a flirty comment back. Eskel very much seemed to enjoy the compliments Jaskier was throwing his way initially, smiling gently, sometimes flirting back with a clever answer. But after that day in the courtyard, Eskel appears to accept the comments less and less with a smile and more and more with embarrassment and a frown, dismissing every word as if he doesn't believe them. After a few days, he stops flirting altogether with Jaskier and doesn’t seek to spend any more time with him, which is an absolute shame if you ask Jaskier. He loves Geralt, but he didn’t come to the frigid Keep just to spend more time with him. Granted, the history in these walls could inspire him for a decade, but that was not his only goal coming here. Jaskier has never been one to deny himself anything that pleases him, and Eskel is both beautiful and fascinating and pleases him greatly indeed. He has a sort of calm demeanour that hides a wicked sense of humour and a sharp mind that Jaskier just adores. He won’t stand for this. Jaskier needs to know what went wrong, and he needs to fix it now.

Jaskier quickly dismisses the idea that Eskel could be self-conscious of his scars. Eskel doesn't angle his face away from Jaskier. He doesn't mind when Jaskier looks a little too long. And they don’t stop him from laughing and smiling at his brother's shenanigans. His hair is getting long if Jaskier believes Lambert's comment that they need a good cut (one could also call them threats). But Eskel keeps them away from his face, most often tying them in a small bun when he trains. Which is a visual Jaskier appreciates a lot. Especially when Eskel is bare-chested. It doesn’t happen a lot since the air is getting freezing, and Eskel is always quick to cover when he comes around. But Jaskier has high hopes for the end of winter when the weather warms, and they start training outside again. He will write an ode to that bun and that expensive chest and that soft tummy if he has anything to say about it. Eskel also would have been embarrassed from the beginning, not a week after Jaskier got there if it was the scars. It doesn’t make sense.

All evidence points toward Eskel being comfortable with his scars, and Jaskier is at a complete loss because nothing else makes sense. He goes to both Vesemir and Geralt to know if he said or did something offensive during his first week that could explain why Eskel doesn't accept his compliments anymore. But both assure him he did nothing wrong. Geralt doesn’t understand it either. Vesemir implies quite heavily that Eskel is not used to such positive attention and might need a little time to sort himself out. It breaks Jaskier’s heart a little to know such a beautiful man doesn’t always receive the kindness he deserves.

***

Jaskier starts to get suspicious when Eskel changes his mind to join them in the hot springs as soon as Jaskier decides to come along too. He pretends he forgot to put away the tools he used that day to repair a wall and leaves immediately. Jaskier realises then that Eskel has been finding excuses to not come with them (or rather not come with Jaskier) for the last few days. The previous night he had also refused a second serving of his favourite stew when he was clearly still hungry after hunting knee-deep in the snow all day. Jaskier says nothing, but when Vesemir asks him if he wants more, he sees Eskel give Geralt a furtive glance. He sees Eskel's shoulders slump and doesn't believe the Witcher when he answers, "no, I'm full, thanks."

It's the following morning that everything clicks into place. Jaskier is walking down the corridor leading to Eskel's room. He's hoping to find the man still there so he can offer a trip down the hot springs before breakfast and maybe chat a little about what’s been eating at Eskel. If the Witcher says no, it will only confirm his suspicions that he is himself the problem. At this point, Eskel has been home for two weeks and a half, Geralt and Jaskier a week less, and the routine they’ve established is to bathe in the evening when the big outside chores are done and training is over. So Jaskier knows there’s a good chance it’ll only be the two of them down there for a soak this morning. If Eskel does actually agree to come, then maybe Jaskier wasn’t part of the problem, and they’ll have an opportunity to talk alone, without two other Witchers looming in the background.

When he reaches the room, the door is open just enough for Jaskier to see a bit of movement inside. Eskel probably went out to get some fresh water to shave, Jaskier thinks. Since Eskel is awake, he doesn't bother to knock and push the door slightly more. He doesn't mean to catch Eskel unaware, thinking the Witcher must know he’s there already. But Eskel is standing in front of a big mirror (who's clearly seen better days) so focused on his own reflection, that he doesn't hear the door opening. He’s only wearing his trousers and warm socks but no top.

In Jaskier’s opinion, all four of the Witchers are remarkable, and Eskel is a particularly stunning man. Which is why Jaskier is surprised when Eskel pushes a finger against his stomach, which bounces back a little. He repeats the process two more times before sighing, sounding defeated and sad. He grabs a warm, nearly knee-long tunic and puts it on rapidly, without looking back at the mirror when he's done.

"Is this why you won't come to the spring with us anymore?" Jaskier asks without preamble.

Eskel turns around quickly, ready to defend himself before he realises it's just Jaskier. He chastises himself for not paying attention to his environment. It might be winter, but it doesn't mean he can afford to be careless around a human either. That mistake cost them all too much already. Jaskier probably can’t hurt him, but he’s been wrong before.

"What do you want, Jaskier?" he answers defensively, crossing his arms in front of his belly.

"You're gorgeous, do you know that?" The bard says instead of an actual answer, looking Eskel up and down, and Eskel automatically shies away from the words, grinding his teeth.

"You don't have to keep doing that", he answers coldly.

"Keep doing what?" Jaskier replies innocently, arms and legs crossed and leaning against the door frame. He shivers a little. He regrets not putting on the doublet matching his pants. The shirt he’s wearing is doing nothing to protect him against the cold of the Keep.

"Stop saying things like this. You don't have to say it to me just because you find the others pretty."

"Am I not allowed to find you beautiful?" Jaskier frowns, perplexed.

"I know what I look like. You don't have to lie to me", Eskel says, in a low voice, pretending that the clothes he had already folded last night need to be folded again.

"I might be many things, but I'm not a liar."

Eskel doesn't even give him an answer. He just turns his head towards Jaskier and raises a dubious eyebrow.

"Alright, I might be a bit of a liar too, but it's a poet’s privilege. But I've never lied to any of you since I've got here."

Jaskier detaches himself from the door and walks toward Eskel to stop just far enough for the man not to feel crowded. Jaskier has noticed that Vesemir, Eskel, Geralt and Lambert all share one thing in common. They need more personal space than most people he knows, and they don’t take it kindly when people breach their personal bubble without warning. Especially Lambert. There had been a few growls when Jaskier had become too carefree with his affection towards the man, and he’s pretty sure Lambert is not above biting. And not in a fun way either. Jaskier is pretty good at reading people, and while he knows he can be touchy with Geralt from time to time now, he isn’t exactly there yet with the others.

"You haven’t been down to bath with us in a while. And you don’t want to spend any time with me anymore, which is ridiculous because I’m a delight. Have I done something wrong? What's going on? Talk to me?"

Eskel raises his head as if to answer but changes his mind. He huffs in frustration before shaking his head.

"Alright, do you want to know what I think? In the last few days, I've seen you grow more and more embarrassed by my comments. I’ve seen you all flushed and overheated when training inside because you won’t take your shirt off like the others. I've seen you refuse food for no good reason when you are obviously still hungry. And I've heard you say no to a good soak when I know your back is tense and hot water would help. And just now, I saw you in front of the mirror, looking at your body like you hate it. I've also seen how you look at your brothers and how you look at yourself and how looking at them makes you sad. And I don't understand because you all are, yourself included, some of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.”

Eskel doesn’t answer, eyes low and shoulders down.

“Please, Eskel, I just want to understand what I did to make you feel bad. I like you. I don’t want to hurt you”, Jaskier pleads.

"They are. I mean the others. They look good, like proper Witchers. I'm not fit like they are... I'm... I'm too fat", he says in a tiny quiet voice before turning away, embarrassed again.

Jaskier doesn't answer right away, shocked by what he just heard. Gods, those Witchers are the stupidest men he's ever met. They are incredible for sure. But dumb as fuck too. He chuckles lightly and, against his better judgment, steps into Eskel's personal space and hugs him. Eskel tenses when Jaskier's chest comes to rest on his back, and the bard’s hands circle his waist.

"Are you saying this because you put on a little bit of tummy fat since you got here?"

"Not just my tummy..." He whispers. He can't properly blush, but his skin still feels hotter than it should to Jaskier. He squeezes Eskel a little bit tighter, and the Witcher's hands come to rest above his. Eskel doesn't try to dislodge him, but he is still pretty tense against Jaskier. He doesn’t know how to answer Jaskier’s hug.

"I'm not like Geralt and Lambert. My body doesn't work the same. They've barely put on any weight yet." He says, defeated.

"So? You’ve been here a week more than them, that’s normal."

"I'm just... I know it doesn't look as pretty as Geralt or Lambert’s muscles. Lambert especially, he’s always been lean anyway. But I... I need more energy. I stay up North more, and it's colder. And I use my signs more. It takes a lot out of me. I know I eat a lot more than Geralt, but it's just... I've always...." He huffs in frustration again, looking down at his belly under both their hands.

"You don't have to justify yourself to me. Your body works differently than theirs. You store fat faster than your brothers do because you need more to survive out there. You don't need the same reserves, and that's fine."

“When I was little, after the trials, the instructor used to reprimand me for eating so much.” He answers quietly. “Now, being here, it’s the only time I can eat until I’m full.”

The implication that Eskel has to go hungry most of the year is left unsaid but hangs heavily between them. Jaskier thinks back to when they had met during the fall and what Eskel looked like, and his eyes sting with unspilled tears. Not “go hungry”. Starve, he corrects himself, burying his face against Eskel’s neck.

“Nobody is here to judge you, Eskel. You can eat as much as you want. You shouldn’t have to go hungry. You do enough of that the rest of the year.”

Eskel focuses on Jaskier’s breath and scent. The man smells worried and sad, maybe a little anxious, which is not what Eskel anticipated. He’s used to seeing fear and apprehension in people’s eyes. People usually smell distressed because of him, not for him. And Eskel doesn’t know how to deal with that.

He tries to order his thoughts so he can explain to Jaskier what he’s feeling. Jaskier, patiently, doesn’t push him but takes a small step back after a big breath and takes one hand away from under Eskel’s and starts stroking his back up and down. They are still pretty much flush against each other, and Eskel doesn’t usually allow people to touch him like this. He doesn’t know Jaskier all that well yet, even if he really wants to. Having his back rub slowly feels weirdly intimate, like something a lover would do, not a friend he barely knows. Jaskier gives away comfort easily, and while it’s strange, it feels nice, and Eskel relaxes a little.

"When you compliment me”, he says finally, “I feel like you do because you find them beautiful, and you don't want me to be left out. Even if I'm getting fatter every passing day." He answers, head low, shame evident in his voice. It breaks Jaskier's heart a little. “You always speak of how beautiful Witchers are, how powerful and majestic we are or something.” Eskel is facing a window, and Jaskier thinks how ironic it is that the man in his arms thinks himself ugly when the morning light illuminates his features most beautifully, making his strange amber eyes sparkle. He wants to run his fingers along Eskel’s nose and cheekbones and kiss his full lips. In the golden morning light, Eskel looks divine.

“Drop dead gorgeous, I think was the last one I used”, Jaskier replies in a low voice, right next to Eskel’s ear, which sends shivers all along the other man’s spine. He has to close his eyes for a second to get himself in check. Jaskier rests his chin on Eskel’s shoulder, and the hand stops stroking his back to rest near his hip. Eskel can’t see it, but he can feel Jaskier’s fond smile. 

“I like you, Jaskier. A lot. But sometimes, when you say those words, it feels like you’re teasing me and… I don’t like it.” he adds quietly, with a deep sight.

“Ah, for fuck sakes, no! Why would you even think that!” Jaskier pushes away, so he has enough space to turn Eskel around to face him.

“I know you like pretty things, Jaskier. And Geralt has told me enough stories about how you get into trouble for me to be aware of the kind of people you have relations with. I don’t exactly compare with all the handsome people you prefer. I don’t dress pretty. I’m strong, but I’ve got plenty of scars everywhere. You’re absolutely gorgeous, with your baby blue eyes, your easy smile and… well your everything, I mean look at you!” he says, a little embarrassed, “And I’m pretty much disfigured. I’ve accepted that, and I’m somewhat okay with it most of the time, but it’s not always easy when there’s someone as beautiful as you around, with perfect creamy smooth skin.”

“Er… thank you... I moisturise,” Jaskier answers, his face getting a little red.

“Jaskier, I… I don’t have the same kind of education you’ve got, so I can’t even make up for the mess on my face with things to keep you entertained and for you to want anything other than something physical. Except, you could have anybody, and the only thing I got for me is my body, my strength. I’m not exactly looking at peak performance right now, especially when I know you and Geralt have travelled long enough together that you know exactly what a proper Witcher should look like. I know what you prefer, you said as much in the training yard."

Jaskier shakes his head incredulously.

“Have you been practically starving yourself in the past few days because you think I can’t possibly want anything more than sex with you? And I wouldn’t want even that if you put on some weight? Fuck I’m vain, but not that vain! First of all, I like you, and not just because of how you look. I think I want more with you. But since you think the only thing I could want if you were “at peak performance”, as you put it, is a physical relationship, let’s address that plainly. 

Geralt told you of my little adventures, obviously, but probably failed to mention I fuck all sorts of people of all shapes and forms. I appreciate Geralt’s body with all the muscles and definition. But I equally like to grab my partners and have a good tumble with them. There’s nothing more pleasant than a shapely woman squeezing you with her generous tights. Trust me. I love getting my hands on people and feeling their bodies under me. Or over me, I’m not too complicated. I like fucking petite women and lean stable boys I can push up against a wall and do with them what I please until they can’t even say my name anymore. I like cuddling with small people and hiding them away in my arms. But also, getting fucked by a big blacksmith is incredible, especially if he’s strong enough to lift me. I absolutely love having great big thighs to caress and hold onto when I spread them open. And being able to grab a handful of ass or getting to knit my hands on someone’s pecks or breast while they fuck me or I fuck them is heavenly. ”

Eskel doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, it’s probably way too much information, and Jaskier realises with almost no shame at all that he’s come a little off track.

“You are the most beautiful dumb idiot I have ever met. Sit down, you silly man.” Eskel does what he’s told and sits on the chair behind him. Jaskier goes with him, half crouching in front of the chair, on knee down on the ground. Eskel’s eyes don’t meet Jaskier’s, preferring to focus on the bard’s hands instead. One of them is on his tight, too hot and heavy for Eskel to ignore. Jaskier uses his other hand to grab Eskel’s and stroke it delicately with his thumb. 

"Eskel, do you remember when we met, and Geralt introduced us?" Jaskier asks gently, and Eskel shakes his head to say yes. How could he forget meeting Jaskier for the first time? The man is all colours and noises. He’s loud but in a way that feels pleasant rather than overbearing. 

*** 

They had met in the forest, Geralt gently building up the fire, completely ignoring Jaskier's loud singing and dancing. Well, calling it dancing might be a stretch. It was more like a gentle swaying of his hips. Eskel had approached their camp without rush, staying in the wind, so Geralt had ample time to smell him coming. Meeting Jaskier that first time had felt like staring at the sun. You can close your eyes, but the image stays with you. Eskel had stopped at the edge of their camp, resting against a tree, Scorpion grazing near. He had not heard Geralt warn Jaskier he was coming, yet Jaskier had not shown any fear. With the two swords on his back and his feline eyes, Jaskier had easily realised Eskel was a Witcher. Not stopping his singing and swaying, Jaskier’s eyes lingered a little on his face, then fell on his medallion. A big happy grin had appeared on Jaskier’s face when his gaze had found the familiar shape of the wolf head hanging above Eskel’s loose tunic. Jaskier had twirled away from the fire to come to join him by the tree. In the low light of the setting sun, Eskel had wondered if the bard was part siren as Jaskier was happily welcoming him into their camp with a captivating song and a dance. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the windmill of colours and sounds. Jaskier finished with a few loud notes, a final sway of his hips and a laugh, delighted by the content smile on Eskel’s face. 

“You must be Eskel!” He had said finally, both hands resting on his lute. “Delighted to meet you! Geralt has told me nothing important, as usual!”

“Likewise”, Eskel answered with an easy smile, hearing the disapproving “hum” coming from Geralt. He had told his brother plenty enough.

“Come share dinner with us. You must tell me all the embarrassing stories from your childhood together!”

And just like that, Jaskier had welcomed Eskel into his life with a casual invitation, an easy smile, and no fear at all. Geralt was the reason he had come to the camp. Jaskier the reason he had lingered with them for days.

***

Jaskier squeezes his hand and lets it go, using a finger to raise Eskel’s face just a little bit, enough for Jaskier to catch Eskel’s deep honey eyes, bringing him back to the present.

"You were so thin back then that I thought you were sick. Your skin was still a little tanned, but it looked… you didn’t look healthy. It looked grey and thin. Your hands were just bones, and your cheeks were all sunken in. After you went to sleep, I asked Geralt if you were sick. I thought maybe the potions’ toxicity had taken a toll on you. He told me you had a challenging year, fewer contracts than usual, difficult fights, and not many friendly towns. That first day, once I had time to look at you by the fire properly, I was so shocked at what I saw. Because all Geralt had told me about what you looked like was that before the trials and the scars, people could barely tell you apart. I'm used to his build, and when I saw you, you were all skin and bones. Knowing that you barely get enough food in regular years is horrible enough. I can’t imagine how little you got to eat this year to end up looking like that. I can’t say I was surprised when I realised Geralt had given you half our rations. I’m glad he did. It obviously helped you last until the winter. I didn't realise how beautiful you were until I saw you again here. And yet, I already wanted you then. Eskel, I'm so glad you got here a week before us because you looked so much better, and I never want to see you thin like you were. You don't look sickly anymore. You look robust and healthy."

Jaskier's hand tentatively comes to rest on Eskel's face, caressing his scars lightly. He wants to kiss Eskel so badly right now, the big beautiful Witcher he's desperately been falling for more and more every day, but he doesn't want to push him too much. Instead, he plants a small, chaste kiss at the corner of his lips, presses their forehead together and whispers, "you look beautiful with your cheeks full. It makes me happy to know you've eaten well instead of struggling to pay for both food and lodging. I have seen it enough. I don't want any of you to suffer."

In the end, it’s Eskel who kisses him. They are already so close to each other, and it doesn’t take much to close the distance between them. He kisses the bard just like he’s been wanting to do since Jaskier danced for him. 

The kiss is shy and tender like Jaskier has imagined it would be the first time. He has plans for more serious kisses later, but he wants to enjoy this right now. He wants to revel in the simplicity of a first kiss with all the promises it holds. All he wishes is for Eskel to know he's perfect just the way he is. 

After a little bit, Eskel pushes away when they are both a little breathless. But he doesn't let Jaskier go far at all.

"Is this... Is this alright? I mean, is it okay to kiss you?" Eskel asks.

"Only if you keep doing it", he replies with a fond smile.

Eskel chuckles, a sound Jaskier already adores so much, and kisses him again. When they separate, he pushes a little further away.

"You really think..."

"Yes."

"You haven't even let me finish."

“Come up here. My legs are cramping.” 

Jaskier takes Eskel’s hand in his and pulls him to his feet. When they are chest to chest, he lets go and puts both hands on each side of Eskel’s face to keep their eyes locked. Eskel’s hand rests on Jaskier’s hips, a little uncertain he has a right to touch, but his hold is strong and warm.

"You're going to ask me a dumb question like ‘do you really think I look alright?’ This is sure to infuriate me because I find you divine and more and more so every day. And you're going to say, ‘are you sure?’ And I will say yes again. And we're going to go back and forth for several minutes because you Witchers have next to no self-esteem. You know Witchers are supposed to put on weight during winter to have some reserves for the Path. I don’t know when that translated into being ugly in your head, but we’re going to work on that.” Jaskier says before planting a quick little kiss on his lips.

“I vote that we skip the stupid questions directly to the part where you come to the hot springs with me so I can enjoy you in all your glory. And tell you all morning how dazzling you look until you actually believe me. And no more of this “teasing you” nonsense. You are incredible, and if we’re going to do this, I want to tell you how much I enjoy being with you. And not just because you look mouth-watering either but because you’re smart and funny too. I don’t need you to entertain me, by the way, don’t think I missed that. But just because you didn’t go to university or got a formal education doesn’t mean you’re not fascinating. It’s not just your body I’m fond of, even if it is truly magnificent, especially now that there’s flesh to grab and play with. You’re very bouncy, which is one of my favourite things to watch during training.”

Jaskier pauses for a second, a little idea forming in his mind.

“Eskel, we’ve been only talking about what you look like, but to be clear, I want much more with you than just sex. I want your company. It doesn’t have to be something serious, but I want to have all of you. Do you want something like this too?” 

The Witcher swallows hard.

“I didn’t think I could ever have more than a bit of flirting and sex with you.”

“I know. For once, I think my reputation might have played against me. But I’m offering more to you if you want to get to know me.”

“I do”, Eskel answers, with no hesitation in his voice.

Jaskier plants another little kiss on the corner of Eskel’s lips. He doesn’t blush, he can’t, but it’s a near thing.

“When we’re back from our soak, I'm going to embarrass you by kissing you as filthily as I can in front of your brothers and Vesemir because I've been dying to kiss you for several months. This evening you're going to let me use that beautiful winter tummy of yours as a pillow while we rest in front of the fire before dinner. I've been dying to do that too, and Geralt is never going to let me. I also would prefer to do this with you, if that’s alright. Or you can use me as a pillow, and I can play with your hair while you tell me how you got Geralt in trouble as a kid. That’s something I’d like too. How does that sound?"

"That sounds… rather good", Eskel answers with an indulgent smile, way too innocent compared to the fire Jaskier can see in his eyes. He’s still not quite blushing, but Jaskier knows the signs well enough. They kiss one last time before Jaskier drags him to the hot springs.

***

When they enter the springs, Eskel is kind enough to light up the torches for Jaskier before he even has to ask. When Geralt had spoken about the communal bathing place (and all the mischief going on down there), Jaskier had pictured the springs a lot fancier than they are in reality. In his mind, it was grandiose. Cascades of hot water coming from the walls, sturdy benches made of polished marble, pillars all around the beautiful basins decorated with blue tiles, plush towels to wrap yourself in… things like that. In retrospect, it should have been obvious it would look nothing like the bathhouses he had visited across the continent.

Nevertheless, the hot springs are magnificent in their own rugged way, not unlike his Witchers. It was a cave deep beneath the Keep, partially filled with water, not a proper room, with one big pool taking up most of the space. It had been modified to fit very practical needs, but most of it was still beautifully wild. The high ceiling came gradually lower until it met the far wall just at the edge of the water, all the way to the other side of the opening in the rocks. Geralt had explained that the pool was fed both with cold water by a small stream and hot water coming both from cracks at the bottom of the pool and through natural chimneys. There were two of them on the left side, steam and scalding water were bubbling out of them. Jaskier had been told to stay away from these spots. The rest of the pool was at a pleasant temperature, steam rising a little from the surface. The ceiling and part of the walls were covered by both a bioluminescent moss and what Geralt had called Glow Worms, bathing the entire cave in an eerie blue-green light. 

The glow worms also hung from giant stalactites all over the ceiling, and the moss came down the left wall directly into the pool, casting a strange glow from beneath the water as well. To Witchers, it must have been sufficient light, but Jaskier preferred the right part of the pool where a few torches could be lit. The entrance and half of the right side of the pool were the only dry part of the cave, leaving a few meters between the walls and the water. The natural platform became narrower and narrower on the right until it met the water again. Benches made of smooth granite had been placed all around the platform, and the wall underwater had been polished so you could enter the water and rest against the side without risking hurting yourself on the rough stone. Small stairs had also been carved directly across the entrance to enter the pool with ease if you prefer. Little benches had been placed under the water to sit comfortably. Some were low enough to sit on them and lay back your head on the cold ground behind you. Others left you high enough that you were only half submerged. The floor was a few centimetres above the waterline and not entirely level, but the stones had been polished by thousands of Witchers coming and going and felt smooth to walk on. That side of the pool felt more like a proper bathhouse, Jaskier thought.  

The pool took most of the left wall and all the back of the cave. The left side and back were left rough. There was no space to walk around the water anyway, the walls being part of the pool itself. The cave was long enough and deep enough for a good swim, and Jaskier suspected there was a small passage at the deepest point where the water would flow outside. The water must travel through the mountain, picking up minerals, then separate in two streams. One was staying cold, the other heating up deep beneath the Keep before flowing up again into the cave from the ground. Before continuing its journey out. 

Jaskier, like every time he entered the springs, is lost in thought, admiring the place for a few seconds when his ears catch a shy cough next to him. 

“Could you… hum… would you mind turning around?” Eskel asks.

“Are you feeling uncomfortable undressing in front of me? I’ve seen you bathe before.” Jaskier answers, not understanding the issue.

“I know. But…” Eskel doesn’t continue, embarrassed.

“I know I’m the reason you stopped coming here in the evening with us. I just don’t understand what I did. Please, Eskel, I’m not going to ask you to undress but we need to be honest with each other if we want this to feel comfortable again.” 

Eskel rubs his neck, then his scars and finally says.

“It’s that day in the courtyard. It kind of… started it all, I supposed. When you said, you’d like it when we all would get back into shape.”

“Oh…” Jaskier finally understands.

“Geralt was getting on my nerves, and Lambert was talking about my eating habits, which I already feel uncomfortable about at the best of times, and making fun of my weight, and then you… it was just a bit too much, I suppose.”

Jaskier takes both of Eskel’s hands in his. Eskel is looking at the ground. He’s not used to talking so much about how he feels, this is new and strange.

“Eskel, have you ever told your brothers how it makes you feel when they joke about that?”

Eskel just shakes his head no.

“I think… Maybe it’ll be good to talk to them. I can talk to Geralt if you want me to, but I think it should come from you. When you’re ready.”

“Yeah… maybe.”

“To be clear, that jab was meant for Lambert, not you. I didn’t realise any of us were being insensitive. I’m sorry we hurt you.”

“It’s fine”, Eskel shrugs, but finally looks at Jaskier.

“No, it’s not, and I’ll try to do better from now on. But you also need to tell me when I’m saying something I shouldn’t. I need to learn with you, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Okay. Do you still want to bathe with me? I suppose I haven't actually asked your opinion.”

“I do. But I don’t want you to see all of me.”

“Okay, I’ll go undress over there. You can take a peek if you want, but I won’t look at you. I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes, and I’ll come back when you’re settled in the water.”

“Thank you”, Eskel answers, relief evident in his voice. Jaskier gives him a small chaste peck on the lips and releases his hands before turning away.

Jaskier undresses quickly and tucks his clothes safely in one of the little nooks in the wall and enters the springs to swim away, his back to the entrance. The water is hot, and he enjoys the feeling on his skin. He suspects the minerals have some kind of healing property. All his aches and bruises always disappear quickly after a good soak. Eskel can take the time to undress at his own pace. There’s no rush.

He swims for a bit, but he’s never been a strong swimmer and feeling the ground slowly disappearing from under him to give away to the darkness is not what he enjoys the most about the pool. He prefers the part of the cave where there’s little chance of him drowning if he needs a rest. Vesemir has warned him against going too far or too deep alone because the water had natural currents that could surprise him and drag him to the bottom or push him to one of the hot underwater chimneys that feed the pool as well. Better to stay near the shallow parts where the vents were clearly visible above the water, and it was easy to enjoy the hot water without getting burned. Vesemir suspects an entire hot river was flowing underneath the cave itself. Among all of them, Lambert seemed to enjoy the deepest part of the pool the most. Jaskier has seen him disappear for minutes at a time and has no idea if the pool is extremely deep or if he just can’t see the bottom because of the low natural light. The prospect of an infinite abyss of dark water makes Jaskier shudder in fear and makes him cast a glance behind him. Eskel has settled in, neck-deep against the right side of the pool, and it seems like a good time for Jaskier to go back and join him. 

The water is full of minerals, making it quite opaque and helps Eskel feel somewhat protected from Jaskier’s wandering gaze. Jaskier comes back to him after a few minutes, an indulgent smile on his face. He sits next to Eskel on one of the underwater benches, not quite touching him but still very close and says:

“You know, we have the entire season for you to get used to your winter body again.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“What’s worrying you?” Jaskier answers, reading between the lines but needing confirmation.

“I can smell you, Jaskier. I know what you want. Well, I think I know, but quite frankly, you’ve always smelled a bit aroused since the day you got here, so I never took it personally.”

“Oh, you should have”, he answers, completely unashamed, planting a few sideway kisses along Eskel’s jaw, which makes him shiver and close his eyes.

After a few seconds, he opens them to find Jaskier observing him.

“I want it too. I told you I like you. And I’d like more than just a quick fuck with you. As you said, I want all of you, and I want to know you. But what happens if I’m never comfortable enough to show you my body?”

“Then, nothing sexual happens.”

“You’ll be content just to spend the rest of winter kissing me and talking with me?”

“Absolutely.” Jaskier answers without hesitation.

“Are you certain?”

“Look, when I came here, I knew there was a distinct possibility I would spend months all alone. Geralt is not interested, and quite frankly, I’m too scared of Yennefer even to touch that. I’m not against bedding an older gentleman but wooing a man is difficult when you’re fucking someone who’s pretty much his father figure. It never ends well.”

“Wooing?” Eskel asks with a bashful smile.

“You heard me, Witcher”.

“Alright. Do I want to ask about the rest of that sentence?” Eskel asks before kissing Jaskier. The angle is a bit awkward, with them sitting next to each other, but he doesn’t care.

“No, no, you really don’t”, Jaskier replies when Eskel liberates him.

“I think we’re forgetting someone.”

“Lambert would definitely be fun, and I think he’ll be up for it. But somehow, I don’t think it’s a good idea to fuck your brother when I’m trying very much to seduce you.”

“I don’t mind if you fuck other people. I’m not the jealous type”, Eskel answers, kissing Jaskier at the junction between his neck and shoulder, his hand caressing Jaskier’s flank under the water.

“You can’t say things like this to me”, Jaskier replies, eyes closed, head tilted back, enjoying the way Eskel’s mouth and hands feel on him. The water rises and falls on Jaskier’s shoulder with each of their movements, and Eskel licks the minerals off Jaskier’s skin between kisses. Jaskier groans.

“Wait till you meet Aiden. These two are fun in bed when you get them together. Shame Coën didn’t make it this year either. He’s a sweetheart.”

At that, Jaskier pushes Eskel away. The smirk on his face is enough for Jaskier’s smell to get ten times stronger. He’s half-hard, and Eskel is not helping him at all. Especially since he’s pretty sure nothing more than teasing is going to happen for now. Not that he’s not enjoying it a lot anyway.

“Oh wow, okay, you’re going to have to tell me all the stories later. I want to know everything. Did you and Geralt…”

“He was my first.” Eskel answers with a sweet fond smile.

“Oh, okay, okay, I definitely want to hear that one!”

“Perhaps later, if you’re good”, Eskel answers before kissing him again. This kiss is a lot more heated than the others. Jaskier wants to touch Eskel badly, but he doesn’t want to push his luck too much. So far, he’s been very prudent only to touch Eskel’s face, shoulders and neck, all visible above the water. He turns just slightly more towards Eskel to better the angle a little, slipping a bit from the bench.

When they feel the need to breathe properly again, he asks:

“So obviously, you’re not all that shy about showing yourself to others. Why now?”

Eskel angles himself slightly away from Jaskier, sitting properly again, trying to get himself under control. He wants the man, but he’s not ready yet.

“Winter gets long, and we all have urges. We’ve seen each other in all sorts of situations. I’ve always felt a bit self-conscious, being bigger than the others, eating more. But never like this. They’ve seen me naked plenty of times, and they put on weight in winter too.”

“What changed?”

“On the Path, I can spend the night with someone, and then I move on. It’s just fun for a night, and it doesn’t happen often. It doesn’t matter what they think because I’ll probably never see them again. I don’t… care all that much what they think. I know I’m not the pretty one.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“To you, maybe. But not too many people. I know my face isn’t exactly easy to look at. Usually, in the spring, when I’m still fat from the winter rest, madams won’t let me in brothels cause I’m too tall and big, and they don’t want their girls hurt.”

“No wonder you think being a bit fatter makes you ugly…” Jaskier answers angrily.

“I get a few bed partners in the summer. When I’ve lost all my fat, and I’m lean again. If they want to fuck, but don’t wanna look at me, there’s plenty of ways to accommodate that. In the fall, I’m usually too tired to care about sex anyway.”

“Because you haven’t eaten enough all year.”

“Possibly…” Eskel answers, a little sheepish.

“Eskel, you realised all of this is fucked up, right?”

“I know. There’s just not enough contracts to pay for all the food I actually need, Jaskier, and I can’t spend all my time hunting.”

“Geralt gets plenty of work all the time”, Jaskier answers, knowing full well it’s not entirely true. Even with Jaskier performing every night, they've had a few lean months of their own.

“Not all Witchers have a bard to sing their praises. The songs helped all of us, but there’s only one White Wolf.”

Jaskier readjusts himself to sit shoulder to shoulder with Eskel and takes one of his hands in his under the water.

“I’m sorry they aren’t helping more.”

“Don’t be”, Eskel answers him, giving him a small kiss on the side of his head, “they help plenty.”

Jaskier is pensive for a moment, playing with Eskel’s fingers. Then he asks:

“You still haven’t told me why you’re so self-conscious this year.”

“This year, there’s a gorgeous human I like in the Keep, and I might have felt a bit inadequate compared to him and my brothers. I’ve always been toying with the line. This year I crossed it, tis all. I just wanted to impress you, Jaskier.”

“Hum… you know I wasn’t making fun of you with all those comments, right?”

“I know now. Doesn’t mean I feel good compared to all of you. That’s just how it is. You can’t change how I see myself. And I don’t know how patient you’re willing to be until I feel okay again.”

Jaskier lets go of Eskel’s fingers and turns, only half sitting on the bench again to take Eskel’s face in his hands, a sombre expression on his own.

“Look at me. I’ve never slept with anybody that wasn’t feeling comfortable with what we were doing. And I never will. If you want to fuck but you don’t want to take your top off, that’s fine. We can even fuck with you fully clothed or in complete darkness if that’s what makes you comfortable. I can wear a blindfold, or you can bind my hands if you don’t want me to touch you. We can fuck tonight or tomorrow or in a week. Maybe we won’t fuck this season and wait until next winter. Maybe we never fuck because all you’d like to do is kiss me. Maybe we do one thing this year and another next year. I don’t care. I want you to be willing and happy and satisfied. In return, I’m asking you to be honest and not hide like you did when I’m hurting you. Is this something we can work with?”

“Yes… I would like to have that”, Eskel answers, a little shy.

“And more?”

“And more,” Eskel reassures Jaskier again. He wants Jaskier, all of him.

“Good. Now, my beautiful, gorgeous, amazing Witcher. Can I show you exactly what I meant by ‘kissing you as filthily as I can’?”

Eskel swallows audibly, skin hot.

“Yes… yes, I’d really like that too.” Jaskier doesn’t have to be told twice and kiss Eskel like he’s never been kissed before. This is going to be a good Winter, he thinks. A perfect one.