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“Who - uh,” Lambert stammers a moment later, when Vesemir has begun pulling extra food out of the fridge to compensate for having more people, “Who all is going to be here?”
“Can you cook?” Vesemir asks, holding out a metal bowl filled with what looks to be cooked rice. Lambert nods and the bowl is placed in front of him along with a recipe card and several other ingredients, “Well, Geralt and his husband, Jaskier. Geralt is quite reserved, but Jaskier… gods, can that boy talk,” he sighs, “What about you, can you cook?” He asks Aiden.
“I can peel vegetables,” he offers meekly.
Vesemir frowns, “How old are you?”
“He's rich,” Lambert offers by way of explanation.
“Hey!” Aiden whines, “It's not my fault!”
“I know, baby,” Lambert leans to kiss him on top of his head. Aiden huffs but seems pleased.
“You can grate the cheese,” Vesemir tells him, and deposits a block of mozzarella and a grater on the counter in front of him, “The whole thing.
“What are we making, exactly?”
“Lasagna, pizzarelli, garlic bread, Caesar salad, meatballs and ratatouille.”
Aiden whistles, “That's a spread.”
“Lotta people, Lotta food,” Vesemir shrugs and continues on, “Yennefer, Geralt and Jaskier's wife-”
“Wait,” Lambert interrupts, “They also have a wife ?”
“Well, not legally, but there was a ceremony.”
“I can hardly put up with Lambert, nevermind a wife,” Aiden smirks.
“Hey, fuck you, I'm a delight .”
Vesemir shakes his head, amused, “Their daughter, Ciri, of course. Then there's Eskel and his wife Triss, lovely girl. She's a nurse.”
“Huh, interesting,” Lambert says slowly, squinting, “So five more plus a kid.”
“It’s going to be a busy house this year,” Vesemir agrees, looking up from where he's begun pouring ingredients into a bowl of ground beef to watch Aiden a moment as he struggles with the grater. Lambert shakes his head at him, a signal to leave him be and figure it out on his own that Vesemir heeds. “So,” he says instead, “Where do you boys live?”
“Not far, actually,” Aiden plucks a string of grated cheese from the pile and hands it to Ava, who has suddenly appeared at his side, “About a twenty minute drive, we’re just on the North side of Ard Carraigh.”
“Oh, that’s not far at all. Glad you didn’t have to drive that long to get here.”
“It’ll certainly make visits a lot easier,” Aiden agrees, lifting Ava up onto his lap. She reaches for the pile of cheese again but Aiden tsk’s gently at her and she pouts, but does stop.
“If she’s hungry, I’ve got some apple sauce.”
“She won’t eat applesauce unless it's got mashed blueberries in it,” Lambert says, “Have you got bananas?”
“Bought some this morning.”
“Aiden can cut that up for her, if that’s okay.”
“Fine by me.”
Aiden is handed a perfectly ripe banana and a butter knife, and soon Ava is being fed little bits of chopped banana.
It’s nice. It’s something Vesemir never even imagined he could have - his youngest son, back in his home, with a family of his own. It doesn’t take away the years of heart ache, but it does give him hope for a future.
–
There’s a car in the driveway when they arrive that Eskel doesn’t recognize.
It’s a nice car, nicer than anything their family owns - except maybe Yennefer, with her lawyer money. It’s a sleek black thing, all curving edges and glossy paint.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, smacking Geralt in the chest as he comes up alongside him - his brother and his family had pulled into the drive barely a minute after him -, “This is an Urus!”
“A what?” Jaskier asks, peering at the vehicle like it’s going to bite him.
“An Urus, a Lamborghini! This car is, like, 300 thousand dollars.”
“Oh fuck,” Jaskier mutters, Geralt grunts. Triss makes a very confused sound and asks,
“Who does Vesemir know that could afford that kind of car? Not even Yenna could afford that.”
“Rude,” Yennefer deadpans, “But true. You shouldn’t spend more than a yearly salary on a car, they say.”
“Yeah, so who does Vesemir know that makes a cool quarter mil in a year?”
“We could go inside and find out,” Jaskier suggests, lifting Ciri from where she is pulling at the leg of his pants and resting her on his hip.
They slowly, as a unit, make their way up the stairs to the porch, Eskel knocks twice but doesn't wait for the door to be opened for them, he pushes in just as he always has. Ciri goes racing away into the kitchen the moment she is set down so Jaskier can take off his shoes, they hear Vesemir greeting her.
Eskel turns the corner into the kitchen, “Hey pops, who’s car-” he stops in the doorway, making Geralt run into him with a quiet grunt of displeasure.
“Eskle get the fuck out the doorway,” he mumbles, quiet enough for Ciri to not hear.
Eskel smacks Geralt in the chest for the second time that day - and Geralt looks past him.
There’s two other people in the kitchen with Vesemir - who is smiling at them, with Ciri up on his hip. One they don’t recognise, sitting in a wheelchair and with a far darker complexion than most people who live in the area - upper Kaedwen is not exactly known for its melanated population. The other is so eerily familiar that they’re certain they’re seeing some kind of ghost or apparition.
“Boys,” Vesemir smiles at them, “You remember Lambert.”
“What the fuck,” Eskel rasps.
“Oh,” the man in the wheelchair tilts his head to the other side of the door, just hidden out of the way, “Little ears,” then he turns to Lambert, “Go say hello properly, you big oaf.”
Lambert scowls but does approach.
Eskel and Geralt have grown into massive men - massive men that are immediately fawning over him like he’s some delicate bird, and then he is promptly being crushed into a hug by Eskel.
“Ow,” Lambert complains, patting him on the back, “I kind of need my bones.”
“You came back,” Eskel breathes, “I can’t believe you came back.”
“Yeah, I came back. The fuck happened to you?” He pulls back and takes in the jagged mess of scars that make up the right half of Eskel’s face.
“Got attacked by a bear.”
“A bear,” Lambert repeats, incredulous.
“Yeah, I work on an animal reserve with Geralt.”
“Huh,” Lambert looks a second longer, “Looks badass.”
Geralt tugs Eskel back and slots himself in between them, “Good to see you,” he mutters, “Eskel did not ask first - to hug.”
Lambert can’t help but smile as he watches Geralt shift from foot to foot, visibly restraining himself. He holds his arms out and Geralt presses in and gathers him close, “Good to see you, too,” Lambert tells him.
They part and Geralt steps aside to let the others shuffle into the kitchen, “My husband, Jaskier. This is Lambert.”
“Oh, Geralt and Eskel’s younger brother!” Jaskier takes his hand, “To be honest, if it weren’t for the pictures I’d have thought you to be a myth!”
“Yeah, well… I had some… issues I had to resolve.”
“Glad you did,” a redheaded woman approaches next, “I’m Triss, Eskel’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Yennefer,” a raven-haired woman introduces herself, “The little one is Ciri.”
Lambert nods along and steps back beside Aiden, “This is my husband, Aiden.” His hand settles on his shoulder, squeezing for comfort.
“A pleasure to meet you all,” Aiden smiles before he suddenly has a small blond child clambering onto his lap.
“Are you a transformer?” Ciri asks as Aiden waves away Geralt who immediately moves to remove her.
Aiden laughs, “Not a transformer, sadly. It would be cool if I was.”
“Oh,” Ciri frowns, “Then how come you have wheels?”
“Some people need wheels because they can’t walk, and need a way to get around.”
“Oh,” Ciri contemplates this, “I want wheels so I don’t have to walk.”
Geralt hums and lifts her off of Aiden, “You think that, until you can’t ride Pegasus anymore. People who use wheelchairs usually have no other option.”
“Your daddy makes a good point,” Aiden tells her, “But, if you’d like, I can take you on a little ride one day, how’s that?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh, and who’s this,” Jaskier asks, crouching and peering around the door, “Aren’t you adorable?”
“That’s our daughter, Ava,” Lambert says, immediately followed by Geralt blurting,
“You have a kid?”
“Yes, I have a kid," Lambert sneers, "I’m not the same fuck-up I was at 17.”
“That’s not- I didn’t-”
“Lambert,” Aiden mutters, soft as down, “They haven’t seen you in 12 years. Let them be surprised. It’s nothing against you, things have just changed a lot, okay?”
Lambert licks his lips and shoves down the slowly simmering anger. There’s no reason for it, his brothers haven’t done anything wrong. He knows that - but he can't help it sometimes.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “We adopted her about a year and a half ago.”
"She's beautiful," Eskel claps him on the shoulder, "Congrats, Lamb."
“Hello Ava,” Jaskier smiles, and gestures to her little play area, “Can Ciri and I come play with you?”
She looks up to her fathers, little blue eyes so wide they could swallow the world.
“Safe people, Ava,” Aiden tells her, “Not strangers. Uncle Jaskier, and your cousin Ciri.”
“Oh,” Jaskier’s lashes flutter, “I’m an uncle now. Isn’t that strange. Papa is one thing, but uncle,” he laughs, cutting himself off like he doesn’t know what to say.
“Can play,” Ava shuffles to make room, offers out the toy she’s holding, “Dinataur.”
Ciri cheers, and points at the front, "That one's a Triceratops."
“So,” Eskel turns back to Lambert and Aiden, “Who’s got the Urus?”
Aiden rolls his eyes, but Lambert’s face lights up, “That’s my baby,” he preens, “Of course, not as fast as some of their other models, but much more car-seat and disabled husband friendly.”
“How the fuck did you manage that?”
Lambert shrugs, “I mean, it’s not my fault he got hurt-”
“Not the-” Eskel sighs, “I meant, how did you get a car like that, not asking for personal medical information.”
“Oh. Aiden’s rich.”
“Stop telling people that!”
“But it’s true!”
“You bought that with your own money!”
“It’s our money, babe.”
“That makes you rich, too, idiot.”
“It sounds cooler if I say you’re rich. You’re like my trophy husband.”
“The trophy spouse is the not rich one - God, have you ever even read a book?”
“Nah, can’t read. Illiterate.”
“Real mature.”
“You know it.”
Vesemir sighs, “Can two of you set the table and stop picking on your brother?”
“I just wanna know how he got the car!” Eskel defends himself. Triss and Yennefer take the plates and cutlery to set the table.
“I bought it.”
“What the fuck do you do for work that you can afford a car like that?”
Lambert shrugs again, “I’m a medical engineer, make like… CT scanners and shit.”
Eskel blinks at him, “I knew you were smart but that’s just rude. Did you even finish highschool?”
“School is for chumps.”
“Darling,” Aiden pipes in again, “Not everyone can glance at quantum logic and understand it perfectly like you can.”
“Sounds like a them problem.”
“You’re such a dick, I love you so much.”
“Hell yeah you do,” Lambert grins, squeezing the back of Aiden’s neck gently, “Love you, too.”
“Alright, alright,” Vesemir shoos them all out into the dining room, “Finish this conversation over dinner! I didn’t spend all day slaving away for you all to let it get cold.”
“Was this much food really necessary,” Jaskier asks, hoisting Ciri onto a chair, “This looks like one of those fancy feasts in a big ballroom they do in Lettenhove.”
“No one here has enough manners for that,” Yennefer scoffs, “Except me. Maybe Aiden, we’ll see.”
“The boy couldn’t tell the difference between a half and quarter cup, and doesn’t know how to slice vegetables," Vesemir huffs.
“Ah,” Yennefer grins, “So he is rich, then.”
“Oh my God,” Aiden flushes, then hisses, “Is it too late to divorce you?”
“Yep, no backsies.” Ava is placed in Aiden’s lap. A kiss dropped on the top of his head, “Gonna have to get used to it.”
Aiden sighs, “I guess more family is better.”
“It is,” Vesemir agrees as everyone takes their seats, “It is wonderful to have everyone here, and to have Lambert back with us. I hope we can make your family feel welcome.”
“Not a bad start so far,” Lambert gives him.
“Glad to hear it... Welcome back home, son." Vesemir smiles at him, "Now, let’s eat.”