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"A Garkain?! Tough whoresons, those," Lambert commended his brother's success.
"Yeah, g-good job, Eskel!" Geralt slurred from under the table, where he was currently resting his head on Yennefer's lap. "A drink to the hero!"
"Oh it was nothing, guys," Eskel replied, chuckling at their reactions, "fucker was so drunk on some old soak's blood the fight was a formality."
"A drunk vampire must have been quite the s-spectacle, shame I wasn't there."
"Well you're in luck, Lambert," Yennefer spoke up, "just imagine Mr. Yes-of-course-I-can-hold-my-drink-Yen here has a pair of fangs."
Thunderous laughter echoed around the hall, except a very confused Geralt.
At that moment, the door to the kitchen was kicked open gently and Triss manoeuvred out with five full plates balanced precariously in her arms. "I see you've been busy partying while I cooked!" She scolded as she carried them to the table, the gentle swaying in her step evidence enough that the bottle of White Gull she took into the kitchen was put to good use.
"Have a merry midinváerne, my dears!" she said loudly. Cheers erupted when she set the meat down on the table and Eskel pulled her close for a kiss on the cheek, nearly causing her to drop his own plate.
"Where did you learn such brilliant illusions?!" Yenn asked, amazed, as Lambert proclaimed Triss a "fiery angel of steak".
"No illusions here, just cooking, my dear sister. You should give it a try. Also, Lambert, that's definitely not a steak, but I am flattered."
"Yea, you should try it, Yen!" Geralt said, sitting upright after being woken by the wonderful smell that filled the hall. "You could cook what I hunt!"
"I'm sorry Geralt, but I have little appetite for fried drowner. Anyway, enjoy your meals, everyone!"
Eskel took a bite, relishing how the tender pink meat was nearly falling off the bone by itself. "Mmmm, it'sch schooooo good!"
"Eskel, please, my dear, you're talking with your mouth full again." The accused took a swig and pouted.
"But I wanted to tell you right away! I love y-your m-meat!" He leaned close and buried his cheek in auburn hair.
"Just the meat?"
"Fiiiiine, the other bits as well…"
"You're adorable when you're drunk, you know that?" she petted his hair.
"I am not, nor have I ever been adorable! I'm a witcher!"
"An adorable witcher. Now get eating, it's gonna go cold!"
* * *
A few hours later, with Geralt and Yenn having long ago gone to sleep, proclaiming they've never had as good a roast as Triss's, and Lambert peacefully dozing off curled up next to the fireplace, they were the only one left at the table.
Triss was sipping at a mug of White Gull and mead, while Eskel was losing his fight with sleep, his head resting on her shoulder.
"Uhm, Triss?" Eskel spoke up, sad. "I'm sorry, but, uhmm, I didn't get you anything this midinváerne…"
"Oh, Eskel, that doesn't-"
"I had no idea that we'd stay here when we came for Saovine, and well, we don't exactly have a- a lot of stuff here so unless I gave you some ribleaf or forktail spinal fluid, but you wouldn't-
"Eskel! It's alright. I don't need you to give me anything. Although…" she put on a sultry smile, "you could make up for it in… other ways."
"Ohhh no! I'm sorry dear but if I try to m-move that much right now, I'll throw up."
He stood up, grabbing onto the table to balance himself on wobbly legs. "Come. We'll go sleep, I'll hold you. I'll even try to make it to the bed this time!"
"Ever the romantic!" She slurred and pulled herself up by the collar of his armour and kissed him, tangling her fingers into his messy hair. She tasted faintly of booze and roast meat, and Eskel couldn't help nibbling a little on her lip. He picked her up bridal style, nearly falling over in the process, and made for the bedroom, tripping over his own legs occasionally.
"It's no use!" Triss pouted, "I'll teleport us, don't worry!"
Before he could object, she waved her hand and the world moved up and down like a ship in rough seas.
"Triss…? Why are we in the stables?"