Chapter Text
The winter passed far too quickly in Jaskier’s opinion. Too many of his days had been spent holed up in a laboratory or the library and not nearly enough time spent in Eskel’s bed worshipping his glorious love the way that he deserved. Not that any of the witchers have been sympathetic to his plight. Even darling Eskel insisted that they had to be civilised human beings at least five days a week which was just totally unreasonable.
Still, his time spent with Yennefer and Triss exploring the nature and limitations of his own existence had been rather enlightening and what they weren’t able to explain, he learnt in his dreams. The chaos energy inside of him couldn’t be drawn on for the most basic of Yennefer’s spells at will, but he could cast a stronger quen than even Eskel. Protection magic, some minor healing and instinct, nothing that would put him in the history books but definitely enough to make him useful. Not one of them would be able to call him a burden now.
Not that any of them would.
Even Geralt had been remarkably civilised. Ciri had been good for him, and in turn she seemed to adore the white-haired witcher. A week or two after Jaskier and Eskel’s arrival, Jaskier had gotten spectacularly drunk with Eskel and his brothers. While he didn’t remember a lot after the first hour, it seemed to have cleared the lingering tension in the air. Jaskier hadn’t forgotten, but he’d forgiven Geralt and the easy friendship that they’d slipped back into reminded him of the earlier years of their travels.
Yule had been a merry solstice with Aiden and Lambert dragging in a small fir tree and Vesemir had cooked a feast for the occasion. Jaskier had managed to convince Ciri to sing carols with him and Yennefer and Triss had created some illusions for entertainment. After his performance, Jaskier had spent much of the night leaning comfortably against Eskel near the fire as he watched the small mismatched group that had somehow formed a family. A family he was glad to be part of and call his own.
Winter couldn’t last forever though. A week ago, Geralt announced at dinner that he’d noticed the snow at the pass had melted enough to get the horses through. The sorceresses had portalled out soon after, with some justification or other about important mystical affairs to tend to. Eskel started making plans almost immediately, keen to start travelling once again. Given that Jaskier was also starting to feel the familiar travelling itch, the bard was happy to make plans. Partings would be sad, but Jaskier was certain that they’d be back again next winter.
Jaskier watched Eskel in the courtyard below as he worked their horses. The witcher was making sure that they were still comfortable under the weight of a saddle and packs and that there weren’t any injuries. Lil Bleater pranced around him, trying to hog all of Eskel’s attention and Eskel laughed at his goats antics while he worked. Jaskier probably should head down there and give him a hand, but he was rather enjoying the view.
“You’re good for him.” Jaskier startled. Vesemir came to stand next to him, clapping a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “You’re good for all of them in your own way, but with Eskel - I haven’t seen him this happy and relaxed since before he first set out on the path. Him and Geralt were a handful before their trials, always getting up to some mischief and joking around.”
“I’m glad. He deserves every bit of happiness.”
“You really are in love with him.” It’s not a question but Jaskier nodded anyway. Vesemir smiled. “You deserve it too, Julek. Destiny has tied you to Kaer Morhen for two lifetimes now and I just hope you won’t end up regretting it. Fate has always been cruel to witchers, but perhaps things are taking a turn for the better.”
“If my songs can play even a small part in improving things, I am honoured to help. This winter has given me enough inspiration that I will be singing new songs about the great wolf witchers all season.”
“You do seem to have a talent for it. Life as a bard seems to suit you far better than life as a witcher would have.” Vesemir told him and Jaskier wholeheartedly agreed.
“The pen will always be my weapon of choice, but at least after this winter I have a couple of other options if I get into a bind. That’s all thanks to you and your kind hospitality.”
“You are welcome here anytime. This is your home and always will be for as long as I can keep it standing. I have the feeling that there may be trouble coming our way sooner rather than later. Destiny doesn’t tie a witcher to a child of the elder blood in times of peace. Something’s coming and we’d best all be prepared for it.” Vesemir’s brow furrowed into a frown, his eyes clearly landing on the blue flowers that had started to blossom all around the training grounds. Wherever Ciri had cut herself during her training.
“That all sounds rather ominous and pessimistic. If that’s the plan, Destiny can go fuck itself. My own plans involve nothing more complicated than days on horseback and singing for my supper at taverns along the path.”
“And no doubt, fucking Eskel at every possibility now that you aren’t in a keep full of gossips and cockblockers?” Vesemir asked with a perfectly straight face and a raised eyebrow. Jaskier coughed and sputtered in surprise and the older man chuckled. “I was young too once.”
“That might be true, but please leave me my ignorance. Eskel and the others all respect you like a father. If you don’t mind I’d really prefer if we weren’t talking about my sex life.” Jaskier whined, causing Vesemir to laugh louder and Eskel to look up from the courtyard below.
“Hey bardling! Are you going to get down here or leave all this work to me?”
Jaskier glanced at Vesemir who nodded. Apparently, their conversation was at an end, even if Jaskier still wasn’t exactly sure why the old witcher had approached him. Still, Eskel was waiting for him and that just wouldn’t do.
“Be down in a minute.”
~~~
“Well, Buttercup, try and keep out of trouble this year. I can’t promise I’m going to be around this time to mount a dashing rescue.” Lambert announced the following morning in the courtyard. Jaskier had the familiar weight of his lute strapped across his back and his favourite walking boots. Eskel had Lil Bleater strapped into one of his saddle bags and both horses were ready to go. The other witchers had gathered in the courtyard to see them off. Lambert was leaning against one of the stone archways trying to look casual but Jaskier knew better. He pulled the surly witcher in for a hug and ignored the grunt of protest.
“Stay safe, Lambert. I’ll see you next year.” Jaskier told the witcher firmly. When they pulled apart, Lambert handed over a small sack that had been next to his feet. Jaskier opened it, raising an eyebrow when he saw the various different types of bombs.
“Eskel’s signs are the best but he can’t make bombs for shit. Thought these might come in handy.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah well, don’t get sappy. It was Aiden’s idea.” Lambert insisted with a scowl.
“Only because it would put a stop to his fussing. Lambchop is a worrier.” Aiden told him, moving forward to pull Jaskier into a hug of his own. Jaskier laughed and hugged the Cat back.
“That he is, even if he won’t admit it.” Lambert shoved at the pair of them, but it lacked any heat. “Both of you stay clear of those Nilfgardians while you’re in the South.”
“Unlike pretty boy over there, we don’t go looking for trouble.” Lambert agreed and Geralt let out a huff. Jaskier moved out of the way to let Eskel say farewell, detouring to his horse to add the bombs to his saddlebags before saying his farewells to Vesemir.
“Safe travels on the path, Julek.”
“We’ll be careful, or as careful as I know how to be. Which I’ll admit isn’t saying much but I’ll have Eskel with me and he has a good head on his shoulders.” Jaskier rambled with a cheery smile. Vesemir chuckled.
“You’d think that to look at him, but I know better. I bet the pair of you will be caught up in who knows what by the end of the month.”
Jaskier shrugged graciously, unwilling to incriminate himself further but knowing that Vesemir was probably right. Moving on, Cirilla threw her arms around him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. The collar of his shirt felt suspiciously damp all of a sudden and Jaskier felt for her.
“Parting brings us all sorrow, princess, but next time we meet we shall both have new stories to tell of our adventures. I’m sure you’ll be a fine witcher by then.” Jaskier told her and the girl nodded.
“People always seem to be leaving me. Just, make sure that you come back.” Ciri told him, taking a step back. There was no sign of her tears and her face held a promise, “Or I’ll come find you myself.”
Jaskier wasn’t exactly sure whether that was meant to be reassuring or threatening. Even after months together in the keep, the moods of teenage girls still seemed baffling and utterly unfathomable. Still, it was nice that she seemed to care that he was leaving.
Geralt was standing next to Ciri. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he’d intentionally left him until last or if that was just how it turned out. Geralt’s lips tilted up in a small smile, a true sign that things had vastly improved over the winter.
“If you get sick of travelling with Eskel…” Geralt offered with a smile and Jaskier glanced across at Eskel who looked far too handsome as he roughhoused with Lambert.
“I appreciate the offer, Geralt, I do. But I don’t think I’ll need it.”
“No, I don’t think you will. Never thought I’d see the day where Jaskier the bard stopped hopping between other people’s marital beds.” Geralt told him and Jaskier couldn’t even find it in him to act offended.
“Me either, if I’m honest. But I don’t miss it and I wouldn’t trade Eskel for all of the gorgeous women on the continent. It’s true what they say, that love can turn a man’s head and doesn’t even leave him the wits to argue.”
“Be happy, Jaskier.”
“I will. Look after yourself too, you great lump. You’ll have your hands rather full with Cirilla and whichever one of those two lovely sorceresses you eventually settle on.” Geralt had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. As if his somewhat awkward attempts at subtle flirtation with Yenn and Triss hadn’t been obvious to anyone with eyes.
“You about done, bardling?” Eskel came up behind him. Geralt stepped forward to clasp arms and pull Eskel into a tight hug. Eskel grinned. “Safe travels, Wolf.”
“You too, Eskel. Keep him safe.”
“Will do.” Eskel promised. “Come on, bardling. At this rate, we won’t make it down the mountain before nightfall.”
“Coming, dear heart.” Jaskier agreed, following Eskel over to their horses. He reached out to pull Eskel close to him and give him a quick kiss before mounting up. Eskel shot him a quizzical look as he moved away to his own horse. “Figured I’d steal one kiss for the road. It’ll be hours before we can stop again, how can I possibly live in such a drought of affection.”
Eskel laughed and even the others looked amused, although Ciri was pretending to gag at his antics. Jaskier smiled. “Farewell my dear witchers. Until the next time we meet, I shall sing such songs of your adventures that your names shall be renowned across the land.”
“Get out of here, you idiots. You’re wasting daylight.”
Well, who was Jaskier to argue with Vesemir. Eskel led the way out of the keep and onto the trail. It was a nice day and the weather was remarkably warmer than it had been when they first arrived. Jaskier hummed as they rode and Eskel took the time to lead them through the trickier parts of the trail.
They paused at the top of the trail that led to the valley. Kaer Morhen stood tall behind them, looking far more like the keep in Jaskiers dreams than the rundown remnants that they had left behind. Once they turned the next corner, it would fade from sight entirely as the path took them down into the next valley.
“It’ll be there again next year.” Eskel said, coming up beside him and reaching out to intertwine their hands.
“It will. A home for both of us, hidden away up here in the mountains. I’ve never really had a home before.” Jaskier admitted, quietly. The one he’d had in his dreams hadn’t ever been real, at least not for him. Now, here he was walking away from the one place in the world that he knew he’d always be welcome.
“It’s comforting to know that it’s there when we need it.” Eskel agreed. “But, really the keep itself isn’t anything more than a bunch of walls that can’t keep out the freezing wind and a roof that leaks far too much. Home is where the people are that matter. As long as we stick together, we’ll always be home.”
“Eskel, dear heart, has anyone told you that you’re a hopeless romantic?”
“It’s a recent affectation. Apparently, a symptom of being in love with a bard, and sadly there is no cure.” Eskel deadpanned, tugging Jaskier’s hand up so that he could brush his lips against his hand with an amused smile. Arousal stirred within him and Jaskier groaned.
“You’re a wicked man, Eskel. We still have at least an hour’s ride ahead of us and you’re teasing me like this. Woe is me that I am so hopelessly in love with this tormentor.”
“Luckily the feeling is mutual, love. Are you ready to go?” Eskel asked fondly, and with one last long look at Kaer Morhen, Jaskier nodded.
“Lead the way, my love. Who knows what adventures await us?”