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Eskel wasn’t the first back to the Keep for the winter, he wasn’t even the second to arrive, he was the last to push through the heavy doors and drop his saddle bags and weapons immediately at his feet before they could somehow drag him down to the ground by the sheer bulk and weight they carried. He was exhausted, no this almost felt worse or else he had never felt real exhaustion before which he knew not to be true given the training and Trials he had endured every day growing up, but those times and experiences seemed so far away now as he nearly lost his balance during the short distance leading into the Great Hall.
He could feel the warmth of the roaring fire in the duel-sided hearth, the smell of mugs filled with White Gull and hot cut bread served with a bowl of meaty stew seeped into the open hall from the kitchen connected by the fireplace. He was so hungry he almost wondered if he could even eat, the pangs had come and gone several times during the week’s journey he pushed from Novigrad and up The Killer, until currently he just felt hollow with the concept of delicious food taking that space was quickly becoming a nauseous thought for him. He clumsily began pulling off his gloves and unfastening his winter coat, the furs and leather suddenly very thick and too restrictive of his movements, but he was struggling to undo the clasps and ties with his numbed fingers from the cold of the approaching winter storm outside; he had barely made it in time.
Eskel’s concentration from the task of escaping his protective layers was broken by the sound of footsteps entering the hall from the direction of the kitchen door around the corner wall. Looking up to the figure he was met with a pause and then a broadening smile from the other man as they set down the items in their hands on the nearest surface before briskly walking straight to him with open arms. It was Vesemir, pulling him into a firm embrace and attempting to knock Eskel’s lungs loose with the force of his back pats before breaking the majority of contact to rest a hand on each of his shoulders as the older wolf started giving him a once over check at arms-length.
“You look like you raced the storm all the way from the big city itself,” his chuckle sounded more like relief then actual amusement. “You already stabled and fed Scorpion or do I need to fetch one of the pups to do so for you?”
“He’s already taken care of, but he’ll need a full grooming tomorrow.” Eskel allowed his features to soften somewhat in the familiar and strong presence of his mentor, he was so grateful to be home finally after a long year on the Path, the tension starting to bleed from his aching muscles.
Vesemir released his grasp from the other’s broader shoulders and beckoned him to sit at closest bench by the long table. Eskel shuffled wearily and set with a louder thud than he was expecting to make but he was too tired at this point to care and resumed fiddling with the last two damn clasps that were keeping him captive in his winter coat. Vesemir observed the struggle for a minute until the accursed fastenings finally came undone and he moved wordlessly to help remove the heavier clothing from the clearly exhausted witcher. No sooner had the coat been draped over the back of a chair by the fire to dry off the liquid snow dampening its fur lined collar, than more footsteps heralded the appearance of two more persons who also respectively paused in stride for a breath upon seeing Eskel sitting somewhat slumped at the table and Vesemir walking back to his side from the fireplace.
Lambert’s eyes lit with excitement as he leaned his posture back slightly to cross his arms over his chest and give his signature grin, which at this moment in time Eskel couldn’t distinguish if his younger brother was genuinely pleased to see him return or had simply been waiting for a new victim to arrive for his winter pranks. Geralt was the first to step forward and finish crossing the floor, his features looked unamused but welcoming, hinting at hidden concern as he saw his brother rise from the bench with more exertion than should be seen. He and Eskel quickly embraced, letting their foreheads touch lightly for a second before withdrawing and giving space for Lambert to hug him too, though done in a little rougher of a fashion than the previous one.
“Thought I’d never see the day I beat you to the Keep for winter,” Lambert teased in greeting. “Figured you were going to skip on us for warmer months elsewhere this year.”
“And leave you alone with Geralt and Vesemir all winter? They would never survive without me to put you in line.” Eskel huffed out a halfhearted laugh.
“Ha! With the new shit you’re looking like right now I doubt you can keep your own two feet in line.” Leave it to Lambert to state the obvious.
“Lay off him Lamb,” Geralt nearly growled but without any real intimidation, his eyes fixed on Eskel as the man sank back onto the bench trying not to look completely defeated while clearly feeling so.
“Get some food into him Geralt while Lambert and I get his room ready. Go and grab his bags from the door pup, without complaint,” the old wolf ordered in his stern mentor’s voice before the silence could become awkward at Eskel’s expense.
Lambert still walked off mumbling something under his breath but didn’t challenge the old wolf for once this time. Vesemir veered off to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and Geralt had all but vanished into the kitchen already to fetch dinner for his brother.
Eskel took a breath and leaned his elbows on the table, his hands catching his face in its palms and his fingers applying pressure to his brow trying to lessen the headache before Geralt got back to see him in such weakness. However, he might have been dozing off unconsciously because it felt like he had only but placed his head in his hands when he jolted from the sound of dishware being set in front of him on the wooden table; mission failed, he didn’t even hear the other witcher coming back.
“Just try to eat a little bit before heading to bed, I can tell you feel exhausted.” Geralt set down quietly on the bench opposite, nudging the bowl of venison stew accompanied by a chunk of bread and a mug of water towards him.
Eskel smiled back in thanks but dropped the expression immediately after to conserve energy as he looked down at the little feast before him and picked up a spoon. Now that the food was right in front of him, his appetite started to come back, but he took it slow nonetheless. Geralt watched him silently until he pushed the mostly empty bowl and mug back, having managed to eat all the bread given he let out a sigh of satisfaction that brought a relieved nod from the white wolf as he picked up the dishes again to return to the kitchen.
By the gods was he grateful to be home. He had spent the latter half of the summer and Autumn in Skellige, leaving Scorpion in Novigrad with Triss, not willing to put his faithful horse through a risky sea voyage if he could avoid it, he didn’t have the heart to plague seasickness on another creature besides himself in the pursuit of some lucrative contracts. He hopped his way through the main islands for months, killing off Nekkers, Harpes, Sirens, and way too fucking many Drowners. After having a bit of a close call while destroying a Wyvern nest, leaving his coin pouch healthy but his physical health in desperate need of rest and healing; the winds began to chill even more so than those icy lands frequented at. Signaling winter’s advance and the urgency by which the battered witcher needed to ship passage to the mainland and start North with no time to spare, and that is what Eskel did. No sooner had he set foot on the port in Novigrad than he made a beeline to retrieve Scorpion from Triss (despite her pleadings for him to rest at least the night or two at her place) and rode at a swift pace to Kaer Morhen.
Eskel attempted to rise slowly, again stretching out the worn muscles that started to burn after finally getting the chance to relax them. Once he was up, keeping a hand on the table, he observed with a detached, sick fascination as the corners of his vision began fuzzing and then blacking out, realizing also suddenly that his hearing was gone too, replaced by a high-pitched ringing. Sight and hearing taken, he seemed to float where he stood, though his body’s sensations were all muddled now so he wasn’t very certain he was even standing anymore. The shift in how gravity pulled made it feel like he was tumbling forward, falling eternally down a black hole, yet without any obstruction or pain that he could feel to indicate he had actually fallen and hit anything on the way to the ground; sick and fascinating, his awareness was calm.
The sound of the pitch in his ears began changing, drowning out so he could manage to hear the environment around him, the first sound and sensation suddenly being his labored breathing and the cold sweat which had broken out all over his skin, sending a shivering chill down his spine. His vision started fading back too but much slower, the ringing almost completely gone before he could make out the shadowy figure of Geralt towering above him, detecting his legs sprawled on the floor with his torso laying on the other wolf’s lap, the aforementioned wolf’s fingers carding through Eskel’s dark sweaty hair. The incapacitated witcher blinked his eyes a few times to try and speed along the vision clearing process and was somewhat embarrassed to hear what sounded like a whimper escape his vocal cords as his breaths tried to slow and deepen as he now battled back a wave of nausea; the pleasantness of a full belly moments beforehand now something he felt fear for its unpleasant reappearance.
“You back with me now?” Geralt’s tone sounded soothing, but it was also filled with a pleading worry, spurring his awareness back into sharpness.
“I’m fine.” He croaked in response, then swallowed thickly and shut his eyes for a few more cleansing breaths as the churning in his stomach finally started to settle.
“Not even close to fine,” the witcher spoke firmly, followed by a pause as he looked around for something or someone to help if possible. “Do you even know that you passed out?”
“I could guess as much. Is my nose broken or anything?”
“No, I walked back into the room before that happened. Saw you staring blankly and swaying on your feet, couldn’t get you to react to my calls. When you pitched forward, I had made it back over here and grabbed you, but your eyes were open the whole time so I couldn’t tell when you lost consciousness or got it back; you were out for a minute or so.”
“It didn’t feel quite like fainting, I was aware of it all but at the same time really out of it and couldn’t control anything. Like my body had just shut down or something.”
“Hmm.” Geralt was clearly unsettled by the event and/or the explanation too. He kept shifting his gaze from Eskel then towards the stairs leading to the rooms as if awaiting someone to appear for guidance.
“Don’t call the others,” Eskel pleaded softly as he read the other’s expression.
Geralt huffed in exasperation, peering back down at his brother their eyes met.
“Fine,” He voice rumbled. “We’re going to do this very slowly.”
Eskel nodded and moved to start lifting his head from Geralt’s thigh, he felt tingly and heavy all over as a hand was placed in support across the back of his neck; it was warm and comforting, causing him to shut his eyelids momentarily again and breath in deeply against the onslaught of just how powerless he felt emotionally and physically. Geralt assisted pushing him up into a sitting position, the supporting hand on his neck disappearing as the white haired one rose to a kneeling position behind him, one leg placed with his knee on the flood while the other leg was pulled up so his foot was on the floor instead. Geralt looped his arms under Eskel’s armpits and wrapped around the front of his chest as far as he could reach from his position behind the dark haired witcher’s bulky frame. On the count of three, Geralt heaved up as Eskel pushed with his legs to haul himself upright once more. The moment he was fully up Geralt wrapped and clasped his arms entirely across the witcher’s chest and pulled him flush with Eskel’s back against his own chest. They held there for a minute as Eskel’s legs wobbled slightly at first, his breath having become labored but quickly calming down, he rested his head back on Geralt’s shoulder as his vision swam.
“Ready for phase two?” Geralt asked in a low unstrained tone.
“I’m ready to pass out, but in my bed, not here. Let’s go.”
Geralt lightly chuckled but wordlessly released his grip across the other’s chest and moved to the side, keeping one arm wrapped across his back to tuck under the furthest arm and taking Eskel’s closest arm to drape over his own shoulders. They progressed gradually through the great hall to the stairs glued to each other’s side, which without any further mishaps they tackled the stairs and steadily climbed them without stopping. Once they reached the top though Eskel found himself out of breath and leaning heavily on his brother for support.
“Not much further Esk,” Geralt coaxed encouragingly. “Vesemir and Lambert will have already made your bed, lit the fire, placed your items away; they’re probably already gone to their own rooms as well.”
“Uh-huh.” Eskel plodded along with weary determination, he wasn’t focusing on anything else but keeping his legs working and clinging to Geralt to lead the way.
They reached the room in good time, the second the white wolf helped set him on the bed and let go to turn away and look for a clean night shirt, Eskel flopped down onto his side with shaky breaths and droplets of sweat running down from his brow. He wasn’t fully aware of anything after that but he could feel Geralt remove his armor, shirt and undershirt; his heated and sticky skin blasted by the cooler temperature in the room caused him to jerk with a shiver. He felt the tug on his lower body as his boots and trousers were pulled off too, then a soft dry towel was run up and down his uncovered skin to clean off the majority of sweat and grime until he had the strength for a proper dip in the hot springs come the morrow. He could hear Geralt talking to him throughout the whole time in a soothing low string of dialogue as he reclothed him with the clean shirt but sadly Eskel didn’t have the capacity to understand what he was saying or had the energy to respond in any way beyond a relieved hum. Then he was tucked under the covers, the hint of a kiss pressed to his brow, and finally blessed stillness. Eskel took maybe two or three more breaths before he fell into a deep healing sleep. He was home.