#eskel x healer!reader

[thesleepy1]

Bun(s) In The Oven

A/N: What am I doing instead of sleeping? A) Working, B) Writing. or C) Waking Lord Cthulhu from his slumber so that he may reclaim the throne. If you guessed B, then you’d be correct! Hahaha, I really do need sleep. And they call me the Sleepy One! Anon Requested. (Also, I haven’t had the time to sit down and watch season three yet, so please no spoilers.) 

Pairings: Eskel x Reader 

Summary: You were supposed to have nine months to prepare. You were counting on those nine months. You were not a procrastinator by any means, but with something as important as having a baby you were going to make good use of all the available time to prepare for the arrival of your new baby. Nine months. Not six. 

Or, “Could you write something for eskel when his significant other is in labour. I don’t know if he’d be chill and prepared or in total panic mode. Either wait I’d like to read it 😂

Word count: 930

Warnings: birth? 

At six months pregnant you were past the point of still coming up with names for your little one and were well into the process of setting up the nursery. In the beginning, there was fear that the baby would not survive. Miscarriages were common in the village you grew up in and a human pregnant with a witcher baby was unprecedented. Anyone pregnant with a witcher baby was unheard of. There was no way of knowing what to expect.

When you and Eskel had first learned of the little seed that was sprouting in you, you both laughed it off as some practical joke. It wasn’t until months later that you realized there was something going on. The bump proved that there wasn’t some prank being played on you. You were well and truly pregnant. 

First there was denial. That was to be expected. 

Then came the acceptance. 

After that it was just full blown panic. 

You were a bard for heaven’s sake. A baby was not on your bucket list. When you had first met Eskel and decided to tag along on his adventures, you did not realize that having a baby along the way was a part of it. 

But after that…? 

It was quite nice. 

Sure it was unexpected and neither you nor Eskel had planned for it, but it really wasn’t a bad thing. The pregnancy didn’t stop you from doing what you loved. You still performed and sang to your heart's content. In some taverns you even made more coin. Some were from concerned onlookers and some were from others who got off at the sight of you. Either way, money was money. 

And Eskel. Dear sweet Eskel. He grew to love you even more than before if that was possible. It was no worry of yours that Eskel didn’t truly love you. He showed it to you each and every day. But after the two of you had gotten over your panic, he became the most doting and kind and loving witcher possible. It could have been sickening if you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it. 

So yes. You were past the point of panic and name searching. With something around thirteen more weeks to go, you were still working on adding things to the nursery. Most of the essentials were there already. Now was just time to decorate and fill the room with as many toys as you possibly can.  No one was going to stop you, least of all Eskel. 

If anyone were looking for the two of you, then they could find you in the nursery happily sewing up another stuffed animal or embroidering yet another piece of  clothing. Eskel could be found doing the same. Despite his large frame, he had such a talent for needle work. 

You were working on turning shorn wool into wool when you suddenly felt a wetness burst from you followed by intense pain. Before you realized what was going on with your body Eskel leapt up from his seat. 

“I need to get a healer,” Eskel announced, his breaths coming in unevenly. “I can’t leave you here alone—someone needs to get the healer. Lambert! Geralt!” 

That was another thing. Eskel’s brothers were there every step of the way. And they were going to be there for this step too, despite its premature timing. 

“Are you sure? I—we still have weeks, don’t we?” you asked him, face grimacing in pain despite your disbelief. “We-we haven’t finished processing the food for stores or-or finished all the clothes—” You were cut off by an unbearable pain flaring from within. “Dear gods, heavens above. The little one is coming. The little one is coming!” 

“Geralt! Lambert! Vesemir!” Eskel called out to his brothers. His voice boomed in the hallways, sounds bouncing off the stone hallways and carrying towards the other witchers in the keep. Before long, they came running to your aide. 

“Healers. We need to go find a healer.” Eskel was firm. He left no room for argument. Lambert rushed out back the way he came. He was the smallest and fastest of the witchers. He would reach the town at the bottom of the mountain first and hurry back with a healer or two. Eskel had to believe that his brother would. 

“Geralt,” Eskel began.

“Anything you need,” Geralt replied. 

What happened next was beyond you. The pain was indescribable. You knew that you would not remember much of the process. At least, that was what the other mothers had told you. They said that the mind would forget so the body continued.

However, right there and then you were unbearably hurt. And you were vocal about it. 

“Great saints above! Get—” you were screaming. It stung the witcher’s ears but you didn’t have a spare thought to care. “Get them out of me!” 

“T-them?”

It was Geralt who faltered at that.

Years later you would all sit around a table topped with a hearty meal. Roasted elk, mashed sweet potatoes, and mead would be overflowing. Altina and Anna would be given cider that had not ripen into the sort that would make them dizzy and drunk. Everyone would laugh at the way that Geralt had stuttered at the prospect of two. 

Eskel would laugh the loudest. For he was the proudest of the fact. He was a father of two beautiful, healthy girls and he couldn’t be happier. 

No one will bring up the fact that Eskel had almost fainted when Anna's head was crowning and the healer was still twenty minutes away.

[cosmos-coma]

A Gift from Above- Part 4

A/N: Part 4! it’s a longer chapter since I couldn’t find a good stopping point. I cannot express how much I love Ciri as a character and all of her potential for growth, so you and Ciri do become good friends. Please check the warnings if you have any concerns.

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: Childbirth (sorta? background character), Blood (no more than cannon levels), abduction (alluded to),

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: It’s been almost 6 months now and it’s nearing winter. You guys unexpectedly meet Geralt and Ciri in town and things are going well, but prying eyes can lead to hands that take. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-----------------------------------------

The two of you had been traveling for almost six months now, following your paths side by side. Together you traveled town to town in search of new contracts and people that needed healing. Easily, you two fell into a comfortable routine, Eskel would go out on hunts, and you would sell your wares and heal those in need around town. When he came back cut and bruised you would help heal him or try at least. 

Eskel often asked that you kept your tinctures and magic for the next person, claiming his potions would suffice just fine. However, occasionally he would relent and let you take care of him, watching your steady hands bandage him up or sew him back together again. Those were precious little moments to you, calm and slow times where you could take care of your Witcher and show him the tenderness he deserved. When you patched him up, you’d always ask him to tell you about the contract. Whether it was just a few nekkers or a seemingly impossible curse, you loved to hear him speak and feel the depth of his voice vibrate deep in your chest. 

Occasionally, you’d find him doing the same thing to you, getting you to talk just so he can hear your voice ring out. You had watched Eskel brew his potions many times and you knew he was better versed than your average human in what each plant could be used for. Still, on the long rides from town to town, he would point out a few plants along the road and ask you what you use them for. Never set forth as a mocking tone or a test of wits, just an air of genuine curiosity and a soft smile as he listened to you ramble on. 

You had gotten to know Eskel better in this time, as you two became more comfortable with each other. You learned and loved all of his little habits; the way he rubbed his scars when he was nervous, the way he never stopped being polite to anyone, and the way he would subtly brush his hand against yours when he wanted to invite you closer. But your favorite thing about him you learned after about a month of travel together, when he finally let himself really relax. You’d learned that he liked to hum and sing little songs he had learned from people along the path. Sometimes it was in boredom, sometimes it was when the days were rough and rainy and you both needed something to keep you going. His voice was gravely and a bit unpracticed when you heard him for the first time, but a smile broke out onto your face nevertheless. 

When you had met Eskel it was early spring and now the colors of autumn were looming above you, bringing with them the threat of winter. Over the months, Eskel had talked about his home in Kaer Morhen and how his brothers and he would come together each season to resupply and recount the year's trials and tribulations. 

 He told you that being a guest was reserved for very special people, and though you felt special in his gaze, you knew it was too short a time. You repeated this fact to yourself and that you shouldn’t really hold your breath on him asking you, but you couldn't help the little flame of hope in you that refused to be extinguished.

You two headed towards a new town rumored to have been befallen by more monsters than usual lately. Upon arriving Eskel headed for the notice board, picking up a few contracts before you both continued off to the tavern to get a room. 

It was fairly quiet when you entered, a few people scattered here and there and two or three near the back corners, which was not uncommon for midday. When you walked in an imposing figure immediately caught your eye. White hair, yellow eyes, metal medallion, and a young ashen-haired girl beside him. 

Eskel had talked about his brothers before, and always with a deep sense of fondness, even when referencing the “ever sarcastic asshole” as he put it. Though Eskel’s face lit up differently when he talked about his brother Geralt. The endless childhood shenanigans and the pain of going through each trial together made them brothers in something stronger than blood.

You nudged Eskel’s side to alert him, but he had already caught the familiar scent of a brother and was scanning the crowd to find him. Eskel grinned when his brother and niece finally saw him and the young girl was the first to speak up.

“Uncle Eskel!” Immediately losing her somewhat serious persona, the girl ran over and practically launched herself into a hug.

Eskel laughed and hugged her back as she kicked her legs excitedly. “Hey there, Ciri… Gods, your grip has gotten stronger than a siren’s...” He looked happy as he set her down to turn to his brother. 

“Geralt...” He greeted and came forward to embrace the man. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I couldn’t just let you take all the contracts… with money like that you could probably buy yourself a house and retire and I plan on retiring first.” Geralt hugged him back and glanced quickly at you standing off to the side.

Eskel punched him in the shoulder as he pulled back and turned to you. “Y/n, I've told you about my brother, Geralt, and his child of surprise, Ciri…” 

“You may have mentioned them once or twice..” You smiled and greeted them, offering your hand to shake and it was Ciri who took your hand to shake first.

She was a character, to say the least. You could see from her eyes and lack of medallion that she wasn’t technically a Witcher, though she still wore armor and a sword. She dropped her smile when she turned to you and did her best to put on a very serious expression, no doubt copying the slight frown that she’d seen Geralt pull hundreds of times.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to grin and break her character but you couldn’t help it. “It’s nice to meet you Ciri...” you grinned a bit, still trying to fight back its full force and she herself couldn’t help but crack a little and smile back. 

You then turned to Geralt. He gave you a quick glance up and down, instinctually looking you over for potential threats before he shook your hand. “So Y/n. How'd you come to meet Eskel?”

```

Eskel sat back and recounted the tale of your meeting as the whole group sat down to eat. 

“So, there I was in the woods outside of Larcost…” He started and recounted his tale in full, from getting clipped by one of the four wyverns he was hunting, to waking up to a strange woman and her campsite. As he continued, he could see Ciri mentally taking mental notes for future contracts. However, what caught his attention more was the faintest smile gracing his brother's face. Despite the dampened emotions that Witcher’s had, the joy that Geralt felt watching his brother light up like this still cracked through his hard exterior. 

Eskel knew Geralt didn’t miss the way his heart sped up as you took his hand under the table, squeezing gently. However, he didn’t mind. Geralt could see his face beet red for all he cared, as long as you kept holding his hand. 

During his tale Eskel had glossed over some of the specifics about your magic at first, but as you smiled softly at him and nodded he clarified in hushed tones to his brother and niece. 

```

That evening Geralt and Eskel, agreeing to work together on many of their contracts, had set out to town and the surrounding woods to try and gather information. You and Ciri also wandered the town, looking to stock up on supplies and trade for small trinkets.

It was a fairly busy town, despite the sun hanging low and the monsters in the area, people were still going about their business as best they could before night truly fell. There was not much you found to trade for in the dwindling hours of the day, but that just gave you an opportunity to get to know your temporary companion. 

She had talked shallowly and quickly about her past as the princess of Cintra and how she came to meet Geralt. You didn’t press her any further and instead talked about your own path to where you are now and asked a bit about what being a Witcher in training was like for her. Eventually, though she diverged from your small talk and cut straight to her point. 

“So” she started, “You and Uncle Eskel?” She looked up at you pointedly, the slightest bit of a smirk on her face.

Your cheeks heated a bit as you glanced down at her. “I-, Well… Yes, that's right…”

Ciri then grinned, a slightly cheeky smile pulling at her expression. “Do you think you’ll be joining us at Kaer Morhen then? We badly need people who aren’t 70-something-year-old men with swords to make it interesting.”

You laughed at that and shook your head. “I’m not so sure about that…. I know how special you have to be in order to be asked to come with and we haven’t talked about that yet, so I can only assume we’ll meet again in spring, but the time is coming to decide.” You commented and looked towards the tree line at the leaves, already orange and yellow. It would only be a few short weeks before the first frosts came and Eskel would be back at the keep.

“What do you mean?” Ciri furrowed her brow in confusion and cocked her head to the side some. “Why wouldn’t he take you with him? He obviously lov-” 

Ciri’s words were cut off by a pained shout and the following cries of an infant from a home not far beyond you. With a silent glance at each other, you two took off towards the sound, your footfalls loud in the silence placed over the town following the commotion. 

When you arrived a young man, most likely in his 20s, had stumbled out the door of his home, clutching a newborn infant and shouting to anyone who would listen, though it seemed you and Ciri were the only ones. 

“Please! My Aleena, my wife, she is dying! This is her first babe, please, she cannot die now!” He urgently pleaded and rushed towards you two. You saw he had tears streaming down his face and a deeply worried look about him. You figured this must've been his first child, first family, first wife to produce such desperation in him. 

Ciri watched you as you nodded and took the man's hand in comfort. “I will take care of your wife, on the condition that you do not enter while I work” He had made a face and opened his mouth to disprove and argue, but upon taking in that no one else was willing to help him, he relented and quietly nodded. 

“Please….” That was all he said before you pulled Ciri into the home with you, quickly getting to work. Ciri understood the assignment immediately and began covering windows from prying eyes. 

You looked over at the woman laying on the bed in front of you. She had struggled during childbirth and the lower half of the bed was now stained with fresh blood and her skin had paled severely. As you came to her and kneeled down you felt for her pulse, finding skin cold like marble and a slow heartbeat that seemed to keep getting softer.

“What are you going to do?” Ciri asked, now by your side and ready to do what she can. 

“I'm afraid no tincture or tea will work fast enough for her…” you spoke quietly as you rolled up your sleeves. 

“You’re gonna do magic?” Ciri’s voice betrayed her calm expression and she sounded both excited and worried, as her own experiences with using her magic had not been as benign as intended. 

“I think I have to..” you spoke and extended your hand, resting it on the abdomen of the woman before you. 

Her wounds were internal and extensive and you knew this would take stronger magic than you had used in a long time, but the man's desperation echoed in your ears.

As you began to channel, that familiar warmth spread through your body, starting from deep in your bones and extending itself out to radiate off your skin subtly. But this was no simple job. it's harder to save a life that's barely there than to let it go, and something in you was determined to not let this one go. 

As you pressed on a fiery ache bloomed in your chest, hot like a torches flame. The woman before you was beginning to stabilize, but you couldn’t quite pull her back to full health, the pain in your body resisting you as you tried to push further. You began to get in your own head as you channeled, causing your magic to waver a bit and begin to falter. 

Can I actually save this woman? Or will this all just be a wasted effort?

Is an effort to save someone ever truly wasted?

You could feel Ciri’s eyes on you and you almost wished she’d look away as you felt tears prick and pool in your eyes at the exertion and the strain. If you had looked at Ciri you would have seen a soft expression dance in her eyes. An expression that was some parts reverence and other parts understanding. 

Ciri was anxious, as anyone would be in the situation, but she had an idea. She reached out a hand, pausing in hesitation before she touched your own hand with hers. At the first moment of contact, you felt a cool wave pass through your body as the woman finally healed fully, aided by Ciri and her magic. 

You fell back into a sitting position, holding your arms close to you as much of the warmth in your body subsided. After a few moments, you saw the bleeding stop and the color return to the face of your patient. Though your muscles were exhausted you couldn’t help but smile at Ciri. “Did you know you could do that?” you spoke gently, your voice now more hoarse than before. 

Ciri paused a moment before shaking her head, but she too smiled a little. “Did I do good..?” she asked. 

“You did great.”

```

Earlier in the evening, Geralt and Eskel had been out in the woods searching for clues relating to their contracts and taking care of a few nuisance monsters along the way. 

“So, She’s the one you were dreaming about all winter?” Geralt asked, getting right to the point. Eskel had told Geralt what was going on after the first few times he had dreamed of you and though Geralt was skeptical at first, he never stopped supporting his brother. 

Eskel nodded as they looked around. “She is. Every part of the woman I dreamed of…”

Geralt nodded and paused his search for a moment, watching his brother. “So you're taking her back to the keep for winter, right?”

Eskel paused a minute and looked back towards his brother. “I don’t know yet.” 

“What do you mean you don't know? Eskel, it’s a week and a half at most before you have to start the journey to Kaer Morhen. You need to ask her sooner rather than later.” Geralt pressed. His brother was being stupid and standing in his own way again. Anyone could’ve seen that you and Eskel were more than made for each other. 

You both took caring for others to heart, nothing was purely a job to either of you, it was someone else's life. Geralt had worried sometimes that this would get in the way of Eskel staying alive on the path, but he knew it also made him an extremely dedicated Witcher. Geralt had also heard on the journey out to the woods that you had strived to be as kind as you could to those you encountered, but unlike Eskel, you were more than happy to tell people to go plough themselves when they deserved it. 

Geralt couldn’t think of someone better suited for his brother and, as much as he hated to entertain the thought, maybe destiny was at play here. He sure as hell couldn’t explain the dreams otherwise.

“Or at least bring her back for Ciri’s sake… Maybe Vesemir’s too, they could certainly use someone new and rational to talk to all winter.” Geralt suggested, trying to somewhat gently push his brother in the right direction. Eskel knew Geralt wasn’t exactly the first to spill his feelings on any matter, but if Geralt was urging him to do something, it was time to listen.  

Eskel laughed a bit, “Maybe you’re right…” he nodded to himself as he spoke. “I’m getting in my own way again, aren’t I?”.

“At least you’ve gotten better at noticing it by now…” Geralt answered. 

The moment was cut short as both their medallions started to hum, more than it had when a stray endrega had come closer, and more than Eskel had felt when you’d used magic these past months. They both felt it coming from the direction of town and, glancing at each other, they quickly mounted their horses and raced off. The shaking of their medallions grew suddenly as they neared town and up to a humble house near to its outskirts. 

A man was peering inside through a crack in the window as they strode up, a newborn babe in his arms. He had pleaded to them as they dismounted to leave those inside to their work, but Geralt and Eskel got more concerned when the vibration of their medallions stopped suddenly. They both had a hand ready to grab their swords and together burst through the door. 

```

You yelped in surprise, and Ciri flinched as Eskel and Geralt burst through the door unannounced, ready to draw their swords. You all seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief as you realized no one was a threat and a mix of smiles and confusion broke out amongst the group. 

As Ciri ran over to Geralt, all smiles to excitedly tell him about what she did with her powers, Eskel came over and kneeled beside you.

You smiled wearily at him; Ciri had given you the final push you needed but your body was still overused. “I’m sorry, Eskel… did I worry you?” 

Eskel sighed softly as he shook his head, but his small smile betrayed his serious tone. “You always worry me, Y/n… What am I going to do with you?” He took your hands and inspected you for injuries as he always did, finding naught but a few bruises and sensitive spots welling up from the warmth the magic had created within you. 

“Hmm.. I guess you’ll have to just keep me close. That way we can always worry about each other” you said with a grin. 

You were interrupted by the man coming in to see his wife’s state. “My Aleena… Is she..?”

You squeezed Eskel’s hand and smiled, relief and contentedness finally settling within you as you realized all was done. “She’ll be just fine…. Might have some residual pains but use Saint John’s wort or valerian root sparingly for it and she should be okay.”

He looked as though he might openly weep again and rushed forward to hug you in his appreciation and relief. “Oh, I can not thank the gods enough for sending you two to our town. If you had not heeded my plea I-… it’s not something I could even think about.” 

You smiled a bit and patted his back lightly before Eskel let off a low and jealous rumble, a warning for him to keep his space. 

He quickly stepped back towards his wife and held his babe close. “What do I owe you..? I could never amount to an even trade for what you’ve done, but I can try to come close.”

You shook your head and waved him off. “No need. Spend the money on food and medicine to help your wife heal. You’ll need every cent starting a new family..” He nodded a bit at this, certainly not about to argue the kindness you granted him, and said his thanks again before tending to his slowly waking wife. 

Eskel held your hand as you tried to stand, but your legs were too tired to support you, and instead, you fell into Eskel's arms, already there to help you. 

Eskel carefully gathered you in his arms and chuckled softly. “Let’s try this instead” he spoke and carried you out to the horses where Geralt and Ciri stand waiting.  You felt your heart skip a beat as he carried you over to Scorpion, and again when he carried you up to your shared room. His focus never strayed to the looks you both got from villagers, or to the wolves howling in the distance of the woods, staying only on you. Focused on the way your heart fluttered under his touch and how his own jumped as you tucked your head into his neck.

By the start of the second day, you had completely recovered, no aching bones or muscles. This ended up working out well as Geralt and Eskel needed an extra day to finish out their contracts. Though reluctant, you had to shoo Eskel out of the room this morning, ensuring him that you would be okay after a bit of breakfast and that Ciri would keep you company. 

Once Geralt and Eskel were gone you ate and chatted with Ciri in your room. You were happy to see that she had opened up a little more after your joint “contract” yesterday and she talked in more detail about her struggles to control her powers, the kinds of consequences it had, and the few occasions where she seemed to have control of it. You listened and nodded, reminded of how destructive you had been when you started, not necessarily to the same degree, but you understood her struggle to control the emotional set-offs to her magic.

You liked Ciri, she was a bright kid and far too spiritually mature for her age, no doubt from all the events she had lived through. You were glad that she had found another soul to confide in and ease the burden on her shoulders, even if it was only momentarily. 

You chatted about nothing and everything, from what had worked for you controlling your magic to the best prank Lambert pulled last season. You were both happy to have some company outside of your respective Witcher’s and you were sure they felt the same way too.

Eventually you had gotten on the topic of practicing alchemy, something Ciri seemed to be lacking on in terms of focus. “Oh, I have just the thing for this potion, where did I put it?” you asked yourself as you dug around your bags. “Hm, I must've left it in my saddlebags when we arrived. I'll go grab it” 

“I can go if you need…” Ciri suggested and watched you get up.

After a big stretch to prime your stagnant muscles, you shook your head “That’s okay Ciri, it’ll be good for me to move after recovering all day yesterday. I'll just be two minutes” you smiled at her and put on your shoes before heading out to the stables. 

There was a cool breeze outside and the sky was just sprinkling the smallest droplets of rain upon you, one of your favorite types of weather. Dreary to others, but you always thought about the plants and mushrooms that sprung to life after the rains. Winter would be here soon and you had to relish the rainy days as much as you could before they turned to cold frost, not that you didn’t enjoy the falling snows when it came. 

You were starting to wonder what you would do for winter if Eskel didn’t want you to follow him to the keep. Would you huddle down somewhere in a temple, as you had done before? Or would you risk continuing to travel, knowing your stores of ingredients would eventually run out?

You were so lost in thought as you rummaged through your saddlebags that you hadn’t even noticed the shadow that came up behind you or the bag that slipped over your head until it was too late and you were encased with darkness.

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Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight

[open--till--midnight]

I Love It, So I Look

Pairing: Eskel x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You love Eskel dearly but sometimes things can get tricky.

Warnings: No smut but 18+ content, not a warning but witchers can blush…fight me

Word Count: 1.5k

—--------------------------------------------

Growing up, you idolized the witchers. Despite the fact that the only stories being told were of a degrading nature, you found them to be powerful and brave. They reminded you of the gallant heroes in your favorite books, and you couldn’t understand why others didn’t see them the same way. And although you wanted to grow up to be big and strong just like them, you couldn’t help but dream of being the princess to those knights.

That childhood dream did come true, well, sort of. You had trained with powerful mages to become a capable healer, that was the strong part of the dream. The part about being big, well that didn’t happen. This you were glad about, you much preferred your feminine figure.

The last part was tricky. When you first joined Eskel on the Path, romance was the last thing on both of your minds. The journeys were perilous and being the witcher’s healer meant bandaging up grisly wounds and staving off death at every turn with your herbs and potions. It was far from glamorous. 

While you had grown to love the gentle witcher, you never considered that he could feel the same. The stories you were raised on described brutes who could not feel, and who could not love. You never stopped to think that maybe those stories were wrong too, even though he had already disproved the rest of them.

These new thoughts swirled around your mind as you stared at Eskel from across the campfire. They had been breathed to life by the witcher himself, and just like the fire in front of you, they sparked and soared and burned their way through your head.

That was when he finally admitted his affections for you. He had grown tired of you not getting the many hints he thought he had laid out very clearly. To your credit, they were not clear at all.

After that day the two of you were attached at the hip, the only clear next step as the both of you were already inseparable. You were his rock and he was your world.

—--------------------------------------------

By now, the two of you had spent years exploring each other in ways your friendship would not have allowed. He trusted you now more than ever and would do anything to keep you safe. At one point he had gotten so wound up about making sure you were safe from harm that he tried to keep you at Kaer Morhen while he was on his hunts. You had expected this, seeing as just a week before the two of you had finally exchanged ‘I love you’s. In reality, you were always worried he would ask this of you. This meant you had plenty of time to prepare your speech.

It only took you thirty minutes to convince him to let you go with him. Not to his shock really, nor Lambert’s, who was also in the room. So with a satisfied smirk, you ran to pack your things. 

Just as you returned, you saw what appeared to be the end of a small fistfight between Lambert and your lover. No doubt because of his brother’s incessant teasing. You couldn’t know for sure though, because Eskel quickly stiffened at the sound of your bag hitting the floor. He quickly grabbed it and headed out to his horse, never meeting your eye. Once he was out the door you glanced at Lambert and giggled as he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked playfully when you calmed down.

“Ma’am, I haven’t the slightest idea of what you are talking about.” he mocked before disappearing through the door.

—--------------------------------------------

Even after years and years, there was one topic you had yet to fully broach with Eskel. His scars. You knew that he took them in stride, but there was always a shy air around him when you so much as glanced at them. 

You made sure to tell him how attractive you found him every day. It amazed both of you at how many ways you could describe his beauty. He once went as far as comparing you to the poet, Jaskier. That time it was he who made you blush, rather than the other way around. 

You decided tonight was the night. It had been a good day, no monsters, no people, just you and your witcher traveling around. He decided to set up camp about an hour before sunset, you collected some sticks for him to use for the fire. 

Your bottom lip was stuck between your teeth as you watched him. His brows were furrowed and his mouth formed a tight line as he concentrated on the task at hand.

Once the last bits of food were finished off, the sun began to sink slowly down the sky. It was a quiet night, barely any words were shared. Silent, but comfortably so. You found that comfort in Eskel's eyes as you held his gaze.

After a minute, you’d had enough of the staring. Walking around the fire, you found yourself seated on his lap, straddling his thighs.

As you took his face in your hands you kissed him. His lips were soft despite the scars, this surprised you when you first kissed him. Maybe not soft as velvet, but soft in the same way that flowers are, feathery and thick, everywhere except the edges. He nipped at your bottom lip before tonguing his way past them. All of your kisses were like this, slow and gentle, every kiss as though it was the last. This was home, you felt terribly sorry as you pulled back.

“Hi, love,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi,” his smile lit a fire in you. 

You smoothed his hair back with your hands, giving him another quick peck on the lips before you beheld the man in front of you.

He grabbed at your wrists and pulled them down, cupping each hand in his. Lucky for you, your hands weren’t a necessary part of your plan.

With grace, you began to kiss down his jaw, then his neck. Then across his collarbone. He hummed along, lacing his fingers through yours. But when you moved to the side with his scars he went rigid.

Not wanting to overstep your bounds, you pulled back to look at him.

“You don’t have to y/n,” his voice was shaky and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the bulge growing beneath you. “You really don’t.”

He pulled your joined hands up to his chest, putting space between the two of you.

“Why? Do you not want me to?” Your voice now shook slightly too.

“I just know they’re ugly and I don’t want you to think you have to.”

His confession broke your heart. 

“You’re right. I don’t have to.” You pulled your hands from his and planted them firmly on each side of his face. “I don’t have to do any of this. But I do. Because I want to.”

“It’s just-,” he sighed, “You always look at them and you never say anything. I know they’re there, and I know how they look-,” he trailed off and looked down and away from you.

“Hey hey hey. Stop that,” you moved your face so he would look at you.

“My dear. I love your eyes, so I look at them,” your lips pressed between his eyes

“And I love your nose, so I look at it.” 

You placed a short kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“I also love your lips, so I look at them.”

A longer kiss to his mouth.

“And my love. I love your scars so I look at them.”

This time he grabbed your face and before he did anything he stared at you. For him, your confession led him to a deeper understanding. He knew that he loved you. Hell, he knew that from day one when he found himself powerless to the butterflies that never stopped fluttering even after you left the room. He never once considered that you felt the same way. Of course, you told him you did but he never gave those words so much weight. Now that he thought about it, you had no reason to lie, just like he had no reason to. He told you how he felt and you returned every sentiment. And you continued to, even after all these years together. He even reminisced on your astounding victory of convincing him to take you with him, away from Kaer Morhen.

As he stared, you felt your breath hitch in your lungs. You had never seen such love behind Eskel’s eyes. It took all you had to try to memorize this face, the feel of his hands, and his warmth.

He still didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. He knew you understood because he saw all the love his eyes had given you, pouring back into his from yours.

All he gave in return was himself. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck. You repeated his actions and let go of the breath you forgot you were holding. He hummed against your shoulder and despite the heat of the fire, a chill ran down your spine.

[bethdutten]

hii can u pls write eskel x reader first kiss? ily

It was your third winter at the keep. And like usual, you were getting irritated at the glances Geralt and Lambert were throwing between you and Eskel.

The first year, he’d explained very clearly to everyone that you had saved his life from a nest of nekkers, and healed his injured leg better than any potion a Witcher could ever make. Since then, you’d followed him on the Path to make sure he didn’t get himself killed again. It was a partnership between a monster killer and a master healer, that’s all.

Only, it was bullshit. Geralt knew, Vesemir knew, Lambert even said it was bullshit that first night because he knew it was. Anyone could see how head over heels you two were for each other.

Except each other.

So, every year you fought alongside Eskel and tended to his injuries, talking late into the night with an occasional sharing of a bed when necessary, and never daring to cross a line in case it ruined the friendship you had. And it was fine, it was fine. He was everything you could ever want, and you were lucky he kept you along for as long as he has.

Eskel couldn’t lose you. He knew what he was; a scarred and unwanted mutant, as terrifying as any monster he took down. And he found someone who accepted him, slept alongside him like he was safe and trusted, and cared for him. He loved you— he was in love with you. But he’d never say anything.

On the Path, it was easy to pretend with no one around to make either of you look at it too closely. Kaer Morhen was a different story.

“Quit it,” you hissed, ripping a piece off your bread a bit more aggressively than normal.

Geralt let out a huff, just shaking his head. He was just as annoyed at seeing you two so obviously enamoured with each other for years, and doing nothing about it, as you probably were with everyone insinuating there was something going on.

Lambert, however, wasn’t letting it go that easily.

“Quit what?” He smirked, wagging an eyebrow. “Why don’t you two just go off in the west tower and fuck for a few days, then maybe you’ll be less tense.”

You stood up quickly, spoon chattering onto the table. Without another word, you left the room, not wanting to put up with Eskel’s brothers’ relentless teasing right now. As if they weren’t extremely on point, and you just couldn’t do anything about it.

As Eskel watched you storm off with a look of dismay on his face, he turned to Lambert and shoved him, hard. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Not my fault you both won’t get your heads out of your asses,” Lambert growled, heading back into the kitchen. Vesemir was on his way into the dining hall, having heard everything. He smacked Lambert on the side of the head as he passed, ignoring his yelp of indignation.

“What does that mean?” Eskel stared open mouthed at Geralt, the slight flickering of hope in his heart.

Geralt just sighed. “I was hoping not to have to spell it out for you, brother.” He got up and walked over to Eskel’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder and saying, “She fucking loves you, so go and tell her you love her too,” before he left the room as well.

Eskel balked, his chest suddenly tightening up. Geralt was the absolute worst at reading emotions (almost two decades to realize what it meant that Jaskier would follow him anywhere, really) so if he was saying it, that would mean…

He looked over at Vesemir, who was just giving him a look that said, He’s right and you’re a fucking idiot, before Eskel got up and quickly went after you.

He found you in the west tower, of all places. He didn’t read too much into that, carefully approaching you where you stood looking out over the Blue Mountains. Despite having a bit of confidence a minute ago, he suddenly felt very stupid.

What if you rejected him? After three years together, wouldn’t you have told him if you wanted him like that?

You turned, and saw it all on his face. Oh.

So you made a decision. Maybe it would ruin everything; maybe you’d spend the rest of the winter not speaking until you parted forever, and you’d be left with only memories of the best three years of your life with your best friend beside you.

But you couldn’t go one more minute without knowing what he tasted like. You walked up to him, wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his strong shoulders and tangling your fingers in his soft hair, and kissed him.

Eskel let out a squeak of surprise, only hesitating for a second before he realized what was happening and kissed you back. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you in against him, almost shuddering at how soft your lips were; and they were kissing him, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip and sweeping your tongue along the notch in his lip the scar had disfigured and making him whimper.

You pulled away with a soft smile, but remained close enough to exchange breath, to stroke your thumb over the scars on his cheek and nuzzle your face into his neck like you were scenting him, covering him in yourself so everyone knew he was yours—

Eskel hummed, guiding your face back up to his so he could kiss you again, just as lazy and gentle as the first time. He broke off with a huff, resting his forehead against yours. “Do not tell Lambert he had any hand in this.”

You laughed, a hand resting over your Witcher’s heart, biting your lip. “He did make a good suggestion, though…”

[writingmysanity]

Eskel Drabble

one word prompt: Shooting star

pairing: Eskel x reader

word count: 460

Shadows danced in the firelight, the soft crackling the only sound in the clearing for the last hour. Huffing out tiredly, you hug the blanket tighter over your shoulders, breath puffing out like a snuffed out dragon- the thought amusing you.

A large breeze sweeps through the open space, trees and grasses rustling, the soft hum of the forest pulling your attention to the shadow of a figure heading your way. You don't even try to hide your smile as your witcher drops his weapons further away from the fire before plopping down beside you groaning softly. Chuckling, you reach up to brush a couple of curls from his face, fingers coming to rest on the side of his face affectionately, gently tracing his scars. Humming in satisfaction, he nuzzles his nose into your palm.

“You've gotten clean already” you tease, wiping away damp hair. He laughs, nodding. 

“I figured a fair lady, such as yourself, would prefer I didn't join you covered in guts.” with false solemness, you nod.

“You figured correctly, Witcher.” he just snorts.

“Witch” time has proven the nickname to be hostile- but there is no venom in his voice, only affection.

“Healer.” you correct, laying your head on his shoulder, eyes turning up towards the sky, tracing the stars. You can feel his shoulders shake slightly in laughter, warm arms wrapping around your waist.

“To each their own” he states, placing a kiss on the side of your nose, making you scrunch it up. He loves watching your expressions, he never has to guess what or how you're feeling. You're about to say something snarky, or at least try when your eyes lock on a white streak in the sky. Bouncing in place, you grab his hand.

“A shooting star! Make a wish” you sing, closing your eyes, holding his hand between yours like your praying.

“A witch making a wish? Now I've seen it all” Eskel laughs, watching the star fade from view. When he looks back down at you, you're pouting. 

“Healer.” he just shrugs. 

“Semantics.” 

“And my mother taught me that,” you say softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, looking down at the hand of his you still have clasped between yours. He softens, you don't often speak on your family. 

“What did you wish for?” he melts at how blinding your smile is, shoving his chest gently. 

“You're not supposed to say, or it won't come true!” 

“It isn't like I made a wish myself.” he teases, blowing a raspberry on your cheek, making you giggle.

“And why not?”

Pausing, he wraps you back up in his arms again, tugging you into his lap, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. 

“Because I already have everything I want.”

--

@queenxxxsupreme​ i blame you and your witcher/witch series..

[crowleyellestair]

Eskel Blurbs

AN/// I’m starting to do a same world/timeline collection of blurbs. Here are my first couple! Not beta’d but please enjoy my sleep deprived quick tales!

Eskel X reader fem!

masterlist

Pt.2 up!

Air forced its way from her lungs out into the cold corridor. The hot springs was still six doors down, but her legs refused to bring her any closer. Burning was familiar after a long day of walking, but after this morning, it has evolved. The burn crept through her core, into her chest, wrapping around her heart and legs. Muscles contracted in her shoulders, her back trying to work overtime to help her diaphragm drag in air. Abs could have formed with how intense the ache was in her stomach. Sweat dripped from her forehead, falling onto the already damp shirt. Stones on the wall the healer leaned on tried desperately to cool her, but to no avail.

After a moment of rest, Y/n finally was able to drag herself back into the middle of the hallway with the intent of bathing. All of the hairs on her arms stood as she felt a presence behind her, though her nerves were quickly smoothed. Then frazzled once more. Her gasping had brought in the familiar scent of hay, leather and that ethereal spice.

The healer’s eyes landed on Eskel’s large form making itself small. Hands hovered over her, hesitant to help. Molten gold churned in his eyes, along with worry as he watches her struggle to catch her breath.

“What were you doing?” Y/n tried desperately to pull herself together, throwing up a thumb over her shoulder to fill the silence. Once she straightened herself, the lovestruck woman tried to give her best nonchalant smile.

“Jaskier invited me to his ‘beauty jog’.” Scars pulled and tightened as his brows flew towards his hairline. Surprise lined the Witcher’s voice as he inquired,

“And you accepted?” A remorseful nod was given with an only slightly sarcastic,

“A mistake on my part.” The wolf chuckled, the notch in his lip making his small smirk look more feral to most. His arm hesitated, but still stuck out towards her, offering itself as a crutch. A small, bashful smile was shown in thanks and acceptance as her arm laced itself around his. He led her towards the baths, his eyes frequently flicking down to catch glimpses.

“Was running something you were hoping for? I assumed you’d prefer to rest through winter.” Embarrassment was clear in her demeanor, though she still answered truthfully.

“Well, the bard was very compelling…” Y/n paused, eyes raking along the stone walls. Or anywhere, really, that wasn’t Eskel. “He was mentioning a few contracts and I got to thinking. I’m there to support you, but how can I do that if I’m slow? You only have forty-eight seconds before melinaw sets in. Melinaw poison is common in the South! Now, I’m not saying you’d lazily stubble into a bush and get poisoned, but it’s a possibility.” At some point in her rambling, they had made it to the door. The wolf looked down with soft eyes, lovingly taking everything in.

Heat pours off her skin, along with the scent of her efforts. Sweat crusted on her forehead, blood still clearly pumping fast throughout her body. The healer’s eyes caught his staring.

“You would run for me? That is commitment.” His voice was somewhat teasing, but also held something so vulnerable. Hope, maybe. Her eyes drop to where Eskel’s heart resided; a small habit the Witcher had noticed a while back.

“Well, if that’s all I had to do to prove commitment, I would have run ages ago.” Tension built, Eskel swallowing hard. His free hand came up to his jaw, his thumb rubbing just under his chin for a moment. After rubbing away whatever fictional thing resided on his chin, he swallowed again, finding courage to respond.

“I would never ask you to.” It seemed the healer lost herself in the cat pupils the Witcher donned. They softened, giving almost a round shape. The black giving a sturdy island in the middle of golden tsunamis.

“Regardless…” she trailed. It didn’t need to be said, as she had said it a thousand times before in thousands of different ways. Eskel’s eyes snapped to the door, gently pulling Y/n out of the way. Loud footsteps approached, and Lambert appeared once the door was thrown open. As he stomped away, he threw back a jab at the two. The snip in his tone, steam rolling off his skin, and small towel all alluded to their conversation interrupting his bath.

“I’m glad I like running. It’s helping me get away from this boring-ass conversation. Maybe you should focus on practicing ‘saying what you mean’.” The older Witcher bristled for only a moment before silently wishing Y/n’s arm didn’t drop his own. Whishing her eyes would peer back up at his once her embarrassment leaves along with his younger brother. He clears his throat after a moment, once more grabbing his muse’s attention.

“I would run. For you, that is.” He gives a closed mouth smile, one he practiced for a long while. One he is convinced make him look ‘less frightening’, not realizing the healer’s love for all of him. The older man gave an almost imperceivable bow of his head before stepping back. “Enjoy your bath. It seems well earned.”

A thought lingered in his mind, something he scolded himself for not being able to verbalize.

“Runner or not, I trust and love you.”

-x-----

Nothing annoyed the feral Witcher more than being in the dark.

Lambert had picked up on Jaskier staring at Y/n a little over ten minutes ago. It seemed that he was the only Witcher in the room that had noticed, and it drove him crazy. The way everyone was positioned in the library, the youngest Witcher was the only one who couldn’t see what Y/n was doing. With her back facing him, he was having difficulty figuring out what was so interesting to the bard. This whole time, he had thought she was reading, as practically everyone else was.

With the rest of the fort being too cold, everyone converged in front of the library’s massive fireplace. Lambert was the closest to the flame; the fire practically kissing his back. He had Gwent cards splayed in front of him, but it seemed some of his space was taken by the bard’s foot. That’s what grabbed the wolf’s attention in the first place. Jaskier’s leg was outstretching slowly as his full attention was on the woman. Every few seconds, the brunet will hunch over his journal, furiously scribbling. Giddiness rolled off the poet in tidal waves, making the older man visibly gag. Jaskier had originally been seated upright next to Lambert, but it seems he had slowly inched his way to have Y/n’s face in view.

Y/n had been seated at one of the cleaner tables in the room. In reality, it was the only clean table in the room. Lambert had been the first one to hunker down. Eskel had wandered in a while later, minutes before his companion. The older wolf swiftly danced around the room, cleaning the books from the table in question, and putting them away. He sacrificed a rag in his pocket to the dust and grime that coated the top, and once it was clean, he still seemed put out. It was only until he quietly lifted the table and moved it the perfect distance away from the fire that he was satisfied. When finished, he flashed a look to Lambert. His eyes were torn between daring the young Witcher to say something and begging him to stay silent. To give mercy.

It ruffled his feathers in a way. Where was his mercy from the stifling lovefest? It’s not fair that the idea of ‘them’ is what everyone was focusing on this winter. Despite that, he swallowed his jests, and silently prayed that him being idle led to a quicker end of their dance.

She had wandered in after the large man plopped himself down on a couch on the far wall. Yen and Geralt had taken to talking on the couch, books open on their lap to keep up appearances. Vesemir fluttered around, seemingly only reading a couple chapters of a given book he picks up before placing it back on the shelf and finding a new one.

Nothing the lovestruck girl did was grabbing the attention of anyone but the bard. But why!?

Lambert gives in, tapping the musicians foot. The bard’s eyes snap to him, almost angry he’s being taken away from the show. A well-placed eyebrow and a pointed finger were all Jaskier needed to start explaining. Though, his response was just as simple. Eyes followed lute calloused fingers as they pointed from the healer at the table to the scarred Witcher. Oh.

Jaskier’s eyes flickered to the entity sitting next to him as he could hear the smirk form. Lambert mouths ‘daydreaming’, to which, he receives a nod. Lambert, too, splays out. He is so confident, that the young Witcher’s bravado caught the attention of the White Wolf. Then, in turn, Yen’s interest.

“Hey, uh, Y/n? You still want to play Gwent tonight?” His tone lazily hid his amusement, but to his pleasure, she didn’t notice. In fact, it seemed her answer was on autopilot. Y/n never backed down from Gwent, and it was the perfect distraction topic.

“Uh-huh.” Lambert finally noticed how she was seated. Her head was in one hand, perfectly angled to be reading with the older Witcher in the background. This was too easy. He preened as another autopilot answer was given to his next question.

“Great. I’ve got some new cards. Hey, isn’t he framed just perfectly in this firelight?” To the vagueness, everyone looked to the two of them. Eskel’s eyes flickered from his brother to Y/n as she gave a curt ‘yeah’. It took the large man’s wide, golden eyes for the healer to process what the Witcher said.

Y/n’s eyes go wide, embarrassment clear on her face. Her eyes fly to the table around her, and her hand mechanically goes to her forehead. With a shaky voice, she announces her departure

“Oh wow, would you look at that? It seems I’ve forgotten my cards back in my room.” The healer quickly snaps her book shut, stumbling out of her chair. To play it off, she turns back to the room, still shuffling backwards towards the door. A thumb is thrown up, pointing over her shoulder, giving her emphasis. “Back to the ol’ room. I’ll, uh, be back.” Y/n threw up a large grin but dropped it when the door is within arm’s reach.

The bard’s foot that was outstretched knocked at Lambert’s closest limb. Jaskier flashed a disappointed look, not voicing his opinion in the same room as Eskel. The young Witcher and bard have had multiple conversations about Eskel and Y/n; the poet begging Lambert to leave their friend’s relationship alone.

--X---

“Why does is it sound like you’re not expecting me back?” Eskel’s large form was framed perfectly in the doorway, the overcast throwing sludge snow towards the earth behind him. Her lips puckered, hands raising, as she lifted herself to her tiptoes. Ever so gently, Y/n brought Eskel’s hood to rest perfectly on his head.

“I trust your skills. Of course I trust you.” The looming figure kept his smile internal as her heartbeat confirmed the statement as true. The healer’s eyes drop, as well as her frame. Her hands hesitate before leaving the hem of the hood. Those same hands found their place upon her hips, then slithered together across her chest. Then, one raked through her hair, until she finally found her voice. “I don’t trust the elements. I mean, look out there! I bet you there isn’t anymore solid footing, and that is needed.” Pride, bashfulness, joy and love all swelled throughout the Witcher. He simply wished he had the confidence-no, the self-love needed to confess.

Golden eyes catch the light from the nearby torches as they intently look to the woman in front of them. He tried to convey everything he felt in that moment, hoping she understood that he feels the same way.

“I promise to be as vigilant, and as safe as possible. I will return.” She must have picked something up, and she responded with a nod and a somewhat satisfied smile. Y/n takes a small step back, as if reintroducing the rest of the world to their moment.

“Happy hunting.”

[armystrong980]

Chapter 1: A Lifetime for this Moment

Eskel x reader

A/N : I haven't written in a long time! This is a mixin the timeline of The Witcher Season 2. Please go easy on the comments! It was the only way this story would work. I do want to do something different though. I GIVE PERMISSION to let you change up this work however you like. Although, all I ask is to tag me in your writting so I can read it as well. :)

Hope you enjoy!

Characters: Eskel x reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Cursing

You were almost a thousand years old. How you became immortal is all but a mystery. All you know is you can't die. You fought in battles beyond man and monster. You trained your ass off to be better than anyone you came across. Above all, there were people who crossed your path who were very kind and loving but eventually met a gruesome fate no person should witness. After seeing too much death you decided to lay low and become a healer. In your mind it's better to help people in need than to fight them.

                                    This is where our story begins....

A young Witcher gets badly injured on a hunt and stumbles into your town. Word spreads quickly of his arrival. The townspeople weren't warm welcomers when it came to Witchers; except for you. You met a couple of Witchers down the road in life and found them quite an interesting subject. You decided to go look for the young man before anyone else does. Just as you opened the door there he was standing with his cloak up to hide himself from others.

At first look you were speechless. He was very handsome. Broad shoulders and all. His eyes though, you couldn't peel away from his eyes as they were so beautiful.

You quickly snapped out of your trance when he spoke.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion miss but out of curiosity are you a healer?

" Yes I am. In fact I was just about to go find you."

He smiled. "You were? Well luckily I got here in time then." He then coughed vigorously. You noticed a stream of blood dripping from his cheek.

"Here come inside and sit while I get the supplies I need." The Witcher did as he was told. He came inside putting down his swords and armour near the door. He then wiped off his chin with his shirt and sat down hunched over still coughing and in a lot of pain. Moments later you come back with supplies and sit next to him. You make a concoction of herbs in a tea to help.

"Here take this it will help with the pain and stop most of the bleeding." He drinks it and makes a face.

"Sorry if it's bitter, not my recipe."

"It's alright, thank you." You give him a reassuring smile.

You see blood staining the back of his shirt so quickly you examine the injury.

"The others are just bumps and bruises." he said cheeky.

You smile until you see the severity of his wounds.

"You were lucky, this would've killed you if you didn't get here in time." You paused. "I'll have you healed up soon enough." You start going to work and notice he's focused on you the whole time.

"Did you want me to move my shirt out of the way?" You nodded in an agreement as he took it over his head. By the Gods he was gorgeous; very toned.

"What were you hunting?

"A Kikimora, I got lucky as you said."

"Yeah you did. I met another Witcher not too long ago who came across the same thing. Let's just say he didn't paint a pretty picture of what it looked like." You chucked.

"Who was this Witcher?

"Geralt of Rivia. He came into town, wanted a healer on standby whenever he or the other Witchers needed one. Sometimes they have me going to Kaer Morhen to heal you guys."

He had a puzzled expression on his face. "How is it I never saw you there?"

You smiled. "I've been there a handful of times. You just weren't there when I was. Now hold still I'm almost done." He gives me a side smile then looks forward. Herbs are your specialty. Their healing properties are most efficient. The stitching was finished so you put herbs on his wound. He flinches around here and there but that tea definitely helped. As you do the last of the bandaging you look up at him.

"You might want to rest a bit before heading out." He puts his shirt back on.

"Alright. As long as I can get my saviour's name?" He looks back at you.

"I'm Y/N." You hold out your hand for him to shake.

He takes your hand in his and kisses the top gently. He looks into your eyes and for a moment you thought the world around you stopped "Eskel." There was a moment or two of silence. He releases your hand. "Eskel, definitely a name I'll remember." He smirked at that.

"I have a bed already made for you if you want to sleep off the tea. You might be a little sore when you wake but it should go away in a day or sooner." You then get up to clean your hands. He's much appreciated. "Thank you Y/N, instead though, that is if you have the time, I'd like some company. I've been traveling so long where I haven't seen a friendly face in a while." You looked at his features to see he didn't really do this often. He looked nervous. For a Witcher that was odd, he's showing a lot of emotion. You brush it off.

"I have all the time in the world." You grab some ale for both of you and sit down across from him. We sat in silence it wasn't until he began our conversation. "He talked about you once, Geralt, just some place to go to if we really need to. He never told me your name though."

"I like to give my name when I meet someone so as not to pass it through. People misjudge y'know."

"I get it. It's just I would've liked to know what I was getting myself into." He chuckled.

"What do you mean by that?" You grinned

He looked down with a blush to his cheeks. "You're beautiful. " He looked back at you, capturing your soul with his eyes. All you could do is stare.

"Thank you. Honestly no one has said that to me before." He was shocked.

"Honestly?"

You nod. "I've been called other names, definitely not sweet ones that's for sure." He knitted his brows murmuring under his breath. "Assholes..."  

He changed the subject.

"Has Geralt found another healer here beside you?

"No, only me, I guess I was the only one fit for the job. I mean, I don't mind. I love helping people. I told him it was the least I could do."

"I agree with him." You looked up from your cup. "You do?

"No one I've met has ever done a handy job like this in such a short time. I'm honestly impressed."

"Well you're quite welcome." I smiled and looked down with a blush at my cheeks at the amount of compliments he gave.

"What got you to heal people in the first place?" Your smile then dimmed as you ran your fingers around your mug. He looked at you knowing you hid a secret.

"You should know something important about me that only Geralt and Vesemir know about. I don't know how you'll take it."

"I'm not afraid. Go on, tell me." He drinks his ale not leaving his sight from your figure.

"What got me into healing people--" You took a breath. "I've had a dark past. After a long lifetime of fighting, I was just done. Couldn't stand it, losing people over a terrible fate. A fate worse than death I say. There were many wars. I trained and trained for as long as I could remember. Centuries. Just constant fighting." You mumbled under your breath, "centuries..." He could still hear it clearly.

He questioned you further. "May I ask--" You cut him off. "You were going to ask me my age weren't you?" He nods as curiosity sturs at the edge of his seat.

"How old do you think I look?"

"About late 20's maybe early 30's"

You chuckle. "First off you should know I am human. I'm not a witch, nor a mage or a prophet if you believe in that stuff. I'm no monster either. Your age guess is correct but you're off about 970 years give or take a year or two."

He got up off his seat and got a dagger made of silver out of his side holster. He pointed it at you as you stood up and went closer to him.

"Eskel, I can't die. No matter how hard I've tried to get rid of this I cannot. There's no cure from what I've been told. Geralt is trying to help me get free of this torturous curse."

"A curse?" He lowers the dagger. "It makes no sense ." He paused. "I'm trusting you. Show me what happens." you lay your hand out towards him. He gives it to you, eyeing you to your core. As you make a slit on your left wrist, blood spilt into a puddle on the floor. It was with his own eyes he saw the cut disappear without a trace. As you hand the blade back to him he takes your left hand in his and examines your wrist. He glides his fingers ever so gently where the scar should've been.

"Not a scratch nor a scar. How is this possible?"

"For as long as I could remember I never had the answer. This is why Geralt is helping me." You then look down with tears at the corner of your eyes.

"I know we just met but whatever it takes I'll help find the cure as well. I'll do as much as I can."  

"You don't have to. Eskel--" Looking up at him he cuts you off. "Y/N, you can't live with this forever. I won't let that happen." You nod at him, you won't argue. He's willing to do this even if we had just met. He is very caring to say the least which makes you fall for him even more.

He wipes away a tear that escaped your eye, looks at you for a moment then lets go of your hand taking his blade back to put it away. You go to finish your ale hoping it'll help with the nerves. Pretty sure he can hear how loud your heart is racing as well. You hear him sit back in his seat.

"I'm sorry if I scared you before. You don't hear people being immortal everyday. I was just trying to take precautions." He looks up as you refill each other's cup and sit back down across from him.

"It's quite alright. I've had worse than just a dagger pointed at me. Far worse." You chuckle.

He leaned over slightly. His brows furrowed, he seemed sad as if he pitied me. "If this is a curse, I want to know who casted it upon you. You're  a wonderful person. You don't deserve to be treated in that manner. " You frown.

"It could've happened to anyone and be a lot worse than this."

 He looked slightly defeated. He changed the subject once more. "What will you do after this?"

"What? This?"  pointing around at the herbs and teas. He nods. "If no one finds a remedy then I'll still be doing this. Healing people is what I do, my good deed. If not, well, I haven't figured that out yet."

"I thought you might say that. Y/N, I hope to see you again after I leave." His eyes were hopeful.

"If you're in the area I wouldn't mind you stopping by. My door is always open. If you want to talk or if you have a big wound in need of healing, you know where to find me." You smile and wink at him. He gives back that gorgeous smile of his and you get butterflies. You're pretty sure there was a heart skip or two.

After so many years of meeting different people, you never felt anything like this. Eskel was one of a kind, he's nothing like the others. Right now as your life still lies in the hands of immortality you can't fall in love. The heavy risks of your heart getting broken are inevitable. You unfortunately are only able to watch from afar. As Geralt, Vesemir, and Eskel try to search for a cure you're stuck in the wind.

"I'm going to sleep this tea off." He smiles. "I think it's finally making me tired."

"Here follow me." I walk towards the room with him following. I feel his gaze upon me.

"Here's where you'll be staying." You open the door, go in and light a fire.

"I could've done that." He laughs

" If I were you I wouldn't bend down. It might be a bit more painful than you expect. I'll change your bandages before you leave." You give a reassuring smile "If you need anything just shout for me I'll be in the other room." You get up as the fire starts. He puts a hand on your shoulder. As you look to face him you see sincerity in his eyes.

"I'm very grateful to you. You saved my fucking life. I know I already said I'd help you, but I feel as if I owe you more than that."

Your heart starts to pound. "You don't owe me any more. I promise. Your company was payment enough." You smiled. He had paused. "I'm glad to have met you, Eskel." He gives his attractive smile. "I'm glad to have met you too." He lets go of my shoulder. "Goodnight, Y/N." "Goodnight." And with that he had gone to sleep. You close his door and sit upon your chair reading. You caught yourself zoning off with Eskel lingering in your mind. His eyes, smile, humor, care, and handsomeness gave you butterflies. Hopefully someone can help make you mortal again.

[randomfandomimagine]

💫 AU | 🖤 Angst | 💚 Angst With A Happy Ending | 🎄 Christmas | 🐻 Familial | 🌟 Fave | 💛 Fluff | 🎁 Gift | 🎃 Halloween | 💙 Hurt / Comfort | 🏳️‍🌈 LGBT+ | 👤 No Reader Insert | 🌼 Platonic | 🌈 Pride | 🎵 Songfic | 💕 Soulmate AU | ❗ Trigger Warning | 💘 Valentine’s Day

Series

Soul of a Warrior [Jaskier x OC] [Finished] 🌟

Geralt of Rivia

Imagines

Shapeshifting In Front Of Geralt

Prompts

"I'm the hardest goodbye that you'll ever have to say" 🖤

Cirilla of Cintra

Imagines

Defending Ciri From The Witchers

Jaskier de Lettenhove

Imagines

Playing With Jaskier's Long Hair 💛

Headcanons

Jaskier's Baker S/O 💛

Jaskier Helping You Feel Confident 💙

Drabbles

You're My Destiny

It Will Be Alright 💙

Sing For Me 💛

Prompts

"The minute I met you the colors of my life began to pour" 💛

"You're the only one who understands me" "You don't have to worry about me" "I'm so proud of you" 💙

Cahir

Prompts

"You could have died"

Eskel

Headcanons

Eskel Teaching You How To Fight

Lambert

Headcanons

Lambert Flirting With You

Misc

Preferences

Being Their Child And Getting Hurt 🖤

Their Healer S/O

[pressedinthepages]

Eunoia

Greek. noun. beautiful thinking; “a well mind.”

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Word Count: 2168

Rating: T

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882895

Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request: “ Hiiii you said you're in writing mood... what about an eskel x reader? Like, Eskel trying to court the reader? I've seen some fics where the reader tries to do the courting. I would like to see the other way around. I don't know if what I said made any sense 🙈 “

Tags: @whitewolfandthefox​

Warnings: nothing outside of the ordinary swearing, this is soFT AND FLUFFY!!!

Eskel wishes to try to court you, but he has no clue what he's doing.

    Eskel is well and truly fucked. He’s been searching for hours, trying to find the perfect gift for you in the little market. Lambert has been complaining the entire time, clearly not thrilled about having been dragged down the mountain into the little village of Yspaden. 

    You’ve been the healer here for as long as Eskel can remember, he even remembers you carefully patching him up a few times as he passed through the town into Kaer Morhen. And even though you may have done the same, actually quite a few more times, for Lambert, he holds no qualms about voicing his displeasure.

    “Oh my Gods, Eskel, why in the ever-loving fuck are you looking at perfumes? I thought you were trying to court her, not tell her she smells bad.”

Eskel sighs, running a hand over the scars on his face as the merchant glares at Lambert. Eskel pulls the other Witcher away before he can start a brawl and moves to a quiet alcove around the courtyard. 

“How about instead of making everything more difficult, you actually help?” he growls, shoving the younger man against the wall. “Sooner I find something, the sooner you get back to lazing about and complaining about literally everything.”

“Well, what the hell do you want me to do? You think I’m some sort of love expert?” Lambert quips back, gesturing rudely as he does. He clenches his jaw for a moment before sagging his shoulders, resigned to help his brother. “Maybe start with something she’d actually like???” 

Eskel shoots him a glare from the side of his eyes, grating “You think I haven’t been trying? I mean, what do you get someone who wants for nothing?”

“Did you ask Jaskier? He probably knows plenty about this courting nonsense.”

“Of course I asked Jaskier, you definitely weren’t my first choice.” Eskel earns a punch in the arm for that, grimacing as he continues, “He said that typically, people give each other jewelry or flowers, or will write a song or a poem for them. Lucky for me, since I’m not a poet and she has a garden with just about every flower known to man already in it.”

“Hmm...he give you any other advice?”

Eskel runs a hand through his hair, the dark locks flopping right back into his eyes. “He said that ‘Love is like a pear. A pear is sweet and has a distinct shape. Try to define the shape of a pear.’” 

“What is that even supposed to mean???” Lambert groans loudly. “Why are you even doing this?”

Eskel looks askance, his golden eyes lowering to his boots. “I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s taught me what love feels like,” he murmurs, somewhat ashamed of admitting this to his brother. 

Lambert grips Eskel’s shoulder, maybe a little bit harder than necessary. Eskel looks up at him, their eyes locking. Wordlessly, Lambert holds his gaze and searches, finding only honesty and vulnerability that he hasn’t seen in years.

“You’ve really got it bad for her, don’t you?” he whispers, Eskel nodding at his words. ‘You know, Aiden never really gave me trinkets...neither of us really needed more shit to carry around,” Lambert says quietly, eyes blurring a bit with the memories. “Every now and then, though, he’d stick a flower behind my ear, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so...so special.”

Lambert’s cheeks redden slightly as he speaks, but it is with a quiet reverence that he chooses his words. “That’s what you need to do, show her just how special she is to you.”

 Lambert steps away, promising to stay in the market as he looks to collect some spare supplies for them. Eskel slides his back down the wall, resting his elbows on his knees as he sits.

I think I understand what Jaskier meant… he muses, there aren’t words to describe how special she is to me. Now that I know what having her in my life is like, I can’t imagine a world without her.

He hangs his head dejectedly, thinking that it would be easier to just court Lambert. He’d get the man a new sword and call it a day...wait a second…

Eskel leaps to his feet, weaving through the stalls in the market towards the blacksmith. Not long after and with a promise to return tomorrow, he sets out to track down Lambert and buy him some supper as a peace offering. 

…

The next evening

You’ve just stepped back into your little cottage, wiping your hands on your skirt as you move to the hearth. You’ve just finished tending your garden, trimming and pruning the plants as you prepare for the upcoming winter. You have a few more days before you can pick the last of your vegetables, and then you’ll focus on turning the soil and protecting the ground from the frost.

The hearth has died down to only embers, which is just enough to keep your home warm. The autumn air has a chill, certainly, but you welcome the refreshing feeling of being warmed by the embrace of the cinders flowing around the room. 

You close your eyes, content for a moment as you take a deep breath in and allowing yourself to relax. However, it doesn’t last long, as a knock on your door startles you from your tranquility.

You cross the room, picking up the metal rake that lays by the entrance that you use as a makeshift weapon. The door creaks as you open it only enough to peek at the man standing at your steps, and you promptly drop the rake. 

“Oh! Eskel, it’s so good to see you!” You cry, flinging the door open and almost falling into his arms as you fly down the steps. He steadies you and you wrap your arms around his neck, melting into him as he winds his hands around your waist and holds you close. You feel him take a deep breath into your hair, knowing that he finds comfort in your scent.

You step back, slipping his hand into yours as you pull him into your home. “Would you mind terribly…,” gesturing over to the faintly glowing embers.

Eskel grins, striding further into your home and making a sign with his fingers. The fire comes back to life, strong and warm with his magic. You step behind him and fit his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his back. He is only wearing a dark chemise and his trousers, his boots a bit dirty around the toes. 

Eskel’s fingers find yours once more, still tingling with the aftereffects of magic. You feel him shift, so you only increase your hold on him, trying to squeeze all of your care into him. He chuckles and pulls your hands away, and you hum against his back.

He turns and catches you once more in his gaze, his hands settling back at his sides. “I uhh...I have something for you…” he murmurs, reaching into his pack to grab the small brown parcel. You can tell that he is anxious, his gaze flittering and his heart beating a bit faster than normal.

“Oh Eskel, what’s this for?” You grin, reaching out to take the box. You move to the bed in the corner of the room, settling on the edge and patting next to you. Eskel’s lips turn up at the edges, the small smile cracking his nervousness as he moves to sit next to you. 

You begin to pull away the brown paper that wraps around the box before Eskel stops you, pulling your hand back to your lap before you can see what is inside. 

    He clears his throat before taking a deep breath, looking over at you with determination. His eyes are the color of molten honey, the fire licking along the sweetness and dripping down his cheeks.

    “I can’t pretend to be good at this…” he begins, holding up a hand to stop you from speaking since you had opened your mouth to reply in some sense. You relent with a smile, grabbing his hand and threading your fingers together as he continues.

    “I’ve been wanting to give you something that would really show you how special you are to me, especially because every time that I try to say it, I can’t find words that are sufficient enough.” His voice is low, wary even, but his eyes never leave yours as he tries to tear down the walls that have taken numerous decades to build around his heart.

    Eskel strokes his thumb along your knuckles, falling quiet for a moment as he does. You allow this, letting him collect his thoughts in the comfort of your home. 

    “Every time that I find myself thinking of you, it’s all I can do to not come racing back here and make sure that you’re okay,” he whispers, vulnerable and timid. “I know that you can take care of yourself, and I admire your strength and confidence, but I can’t help but be terrified that I may lose you someday.”

    You feel your eyes begin to well up and you grip his hand tighter in yours. He nods down at the package, so you move to tear away the paper and open the box. 

    Inside, you find a blade, maybe half the length of your forearm. You gently grip the hilt and remove it from the box, delicately letting it rest on your fingers. The hilt is simple, the dark brown wood polished to a shine. It fits your palm perfectly, the weight of the dagger balanced in your hand. The blade is dark, darker than black, like ink spilling across parchment. On one side, there are runes engraved into the metal, sharp edges infusing the blade with palpable magic. On the other side, engravings of ivy and small blossoms creep and twirl along the length of the metal. The ridges and valleys jump with the light of the fire, glinting and shadowing as you turn it in your hands. 

    “My gods…” you exhale, barely audible even to Eskel, “this is gorgeous…”

    You bring your eyes back to him, silently asking him to explain his meaning further. Thankfully, he takes the hint, shifting to better face you on the bed.

    “If something happened to you, I have no idea what I would do,” Eskel says quietly. “It would be like someone snuffing out the sun, leaving the world in cold, unfeeling darkness. Knowing that you’re here, safe, and able to protect yourself...I...I need to protect my sun…” His voice trails off, but his eyes are screaming with desperation and adoration.

    You offer a shaky smile, a few tears falling down your cheeks as you do. You’ve had people try to win your affections before, using flowers that would wilt like their love or words stolen from someone else’s mouth. But never before had someone laid out their heart for you, shown you that you owned it, and given you the power to do whatever you pleased with it. 

    You turn, gently setting the dagger on the little table beside your bed. As you settle back to facing Eskel, you move forwards and take his face in your hands. You can feel the raised skin of the scars on his cheek, the blood flushing just under his skin, the infinite weight of the indescribable feeling in his eyes. 

    You lean down to rest your forehead against his and feel his hands raise to come to rest on your hips. “Eskel, I can promise you this,” you whisper, “I’m not leaving you without a fight.”

    You move once more, bringing your lips to brush against his. It’s just the slightest contact, but you feel sparks behind your eyes and taste fire in your mouth. You both surge into each other, desperately clinging to the moment. Your fingers wind into his hair and you feel him bunch the fabric of your blouse in his hands. You lick along his mouth, sucking and laving his lips as you both fight for dominance. You nip his bottom lip as he pulls back, tugging a low groan from deep in his chest. 

    You stay like this for what could be moments, or it could be days, just breathing each other in. Eskel looks utterly wrecked, his hair disheveled and shirt hanging askew on his broad shoulders. You’re sure that you can’t be looking much different, but the light that shines in Eskel’s eyes is blinding in its glory. 

    “I love you, Eskel” you murmur, feeling the grip on your hips tighten. You’ve known ever since he stumbled into your home that this man was leaving with your heart, but you now know that he is leaving his own heart here with you. 

    “I love you too,” he says against your lips, and you know that he has never spoken truer words as he pulls you to him once more.

[straight-outta-kaer-morhen]

Master List

A list of all of my works. Feel free to send requests, or comment/message/ask to be added to the tag list. 

Silver & Scars (Eskel x Reader Fic)

Prologue 

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/620032976561045504/silver-scars-prologue

Chapter 1: The Kikimore Contract

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/620562651427307520/silver-scars-chapter-1

Chapter 2: The Healer

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/621298292763099136/silver-scars-chpt-2

Chapter 3: The Drowner Contract

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/621917734291308544/silver-scars-chapter-3

Chapter 4: Between the Sheets NSFW!

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/637800963420438528/silver-scars-chapter-4-between-the-sheets

***

Oneshots

The Rose of Temeria (Vernon Roche)

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/620199900044476416/the-rose-of-temeria-vernon-roche

Scars (Eskel Soulmates AU)

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/639589920328073216/scars-eskel-soulmate-au

Timing (Vernon Roche)

https://straight-outta-kaer-morhen.tumblr.com/post/639675588911775744/timing-vernon-roche

[thesleepy1]

Everyone Loves The Bard

A/N: I need to get a fic out because I literally haven’t written in weeks. However, I’m also incredibly lazy so you all are getting another Eskel fic. I love my boy. As always, no beta, we die like retired witchers.

Pairings: Eskel x reader, Jaskier x Geralt

Summary: The first time you meet Jaskier is also the first time you see Eskel jealous.

Word count: 2,051

Warnings: suggestive themes, foul language, hurt/comfort, possessive tendencies,

Part 2

Part 3

It happened on the path, as most things in your daily life did. You and Eskel had just left a poor contract. He had slayed the beast with little injury to his physical self but the alderman had dealt him a mental blow. The old man had refused to pay Eskel, making up excuses that if you were allowed to join him on the hunt, then the beast couldn’t have been worth that much coin. You had almost lost your arms, a fact that you were quick to point out. No mere human could have done what Eskel did.

But the alderman was relentless and Eskel, the ever polite gentleman merely thanked the man for the opportunity and pulled you gently away. Eskel didn’t want a fight. He was tired and you were injured. He argued that time would be better spent finding another contract then sulking after one that didn’t deserve your concern. Bad contracts were expected on the path and as long as one could still walk, there would always be more work to be done.

You rode on Scorpion so as to not further agitate your wounds while Eskel moved on foot. He kept a steady hand on the steed in case you could no longer keep upright and needed to be stabilized. Your wounds were nothing major. There were a couple of bruises on your arms and chest, a cut across your back, and a little on your abdomen that was a tad deep for comfort. Nothing that a local healer couldn’t patch up. If you could get to a healer in a reasonable amount of time of course.

The next town over was perhaps a three day ride. With you needing to keep a slow and steady pace that might extend it to four days, but really it was nothing to fret over. Eskel didn’t mind being on foot and Scorpion loved the extra attention. Winter was a long way away and the summer heat did wonders for your mood.

That being said, on the fifth day of your travels with Eskel you regretted not pushing the alderman further. You were no longer able to ride Scorpion without falling. Eskel sat behind you, thick arms wrapped around your waist. His hands grabbed onto your stomach like letting go meant letting you fall to your demise. You were pressed tightly against his chest, the heat radiating off his skin began to grow uncomfortable in the bright sun. You later found out that was because you had a fever and the sun was a mocking sun of a bitch.

“We’re almost there,” Eskel yelled directly into your ear, only his mouth wasn’t anywhere near your head. Your skull was pounding, a throbbing sensation that began at the base of your neck and traveled up the back of your skull. “Stay awake for me,” Eskel screamed again but you’ve never once heard Eskel raise his voice above an excited rumble. Every little sound was like a back handed slap across the face. Your body ached and sweat made your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin.

“Make it stop,” you breathed and even that seemed too loud in your ears. Eskel heard you loud and clear regardless. You could hear his slow heartbeat thumping in his chest. If you didn’t know any better it almost sounded like he was afraid. “Just kill me already.”

“You do that well enough yourself without any help from me,” Eskel tried for lightheartedness. “What were you thinking? Jumping in front of me like that? Following me into the cave?”

“Couldn’t bear to see you alone,” was your hushed reply.

The next few hours happened in a blur. One moment you were cradled in Eskel’s arms as he carried you off of Scorpion. His large hands were as big as your face. He could palm your skull and you would beg for it. In the haze, you faintly remembered reaching out a hand to wave goodbye at the stallion but that could’ve been a fever induced dream.

The next moment you woke up in a unrecognizable room on a bed made of molding hay. You were tucked under a mountain of furs you recognized from Eskel’s packs: bear, wolf and fox. You were drowning in them and moving underneath them proved to be difficult. That combined by your otherwise compromised body, you were crawling in an undignified way out of your bed. Your arms could barely support your weight and you were happy that no one saw you in such a state.

“I must say, I spent the whole morning wondering how you were going to get out from under there,” a male voice drew your attention to another makeshift bed across the room. You were in something of a hastily put together infirmary built in the back of a stable. It smelt of horseshit and whatever farmers put into pig slop. There was a row of three beds on each side of the room. Besides you and the man, there was one more occupied bed by a woman who had seen better days.

“Oh don’t mind her, she’s just hung over. Alive, to my knowledge,” the man answered your unspoken question. “Frankly, you looked worse than she does when you first came in.” You looked back at him. He was dressed in an olive green doublet that did wonders for his blue eyes. Although, it was an odd outfit for the infirmary. His hair was disheveled and he smelled of more ale than the woman in the bed one over. An elven lute leaned against his bed, the case filled with loose, aged music sheets. Which explained his unusual attire as well as his talkative personality.

However, what stopped you from making fun of his craft was the wolf medallion around his neck.

“How did you get that medallion?” you asked curiously from the floor, suddenly too tired to get back on your bed.

“Oh, this old thing?” He held the medallion in his hand like it was some sort of award. “My lovely witcher gave it to me for safekeeping of course. He loves me too much to let me go out without some sort of claim around my neck. A little possessive if you asked me, but what can I say? No complaints here. None whatsoever.” You smiled at the bard and he returned the grin. “Although, how does he wear the thing when it's always so cold? And it practically weighs a ton. No wonder he’s such a pain in the neck. He has this thing dragging him down all the time. Really, he should be thanking me for taking it off his hands instead of,” the bard made his voice into a gruff mockery of his witcher, “Wear this so you know the difference between getting mauled by a bear and a manticore.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. Your chest constricted the laugh into a coughing fit but the bard didn’t seem to mind your outburst. “Even I know the difference between a manticore and a bear.”

“Do you?” You raised a teasing eyebrow at the bard.

He took the challenge in stride, grabbing his lute from the side of his bed. He strummed a note or two before breaking off into song. The bard had done his research. He described a manticore in perfect detail as if he had slain one himself. Every detail of the beast was there: its thick, furry hide, its godly mane, the wings of the beast that made it even more of a pain to kill. There was a lyric about the manticore’s venomous tail which most thought of a wives’ tale. No normal man could have seen such a beast and lived to tell the tale. You and the bard were exceptions.

“Does your witcher let you battle as well?”

“As well?” You winked up at the bard, keeping your lips otherwise sealed. Smirking, he continued, “No, no. Letting me into battle would mean he likes me being there. I simply enjoy following him into battle to record every description for my songs. Method acting if you will.” He brushed off your laughter once more. “I tag along as his personal barker, his backup, his most trusted friend, and deeply treasured lover.”

You held up your hands in mock submission, “I see, I see.” You tugged down a large fur to wrap yourself up from the cool draft of being in a stable. “And what is the name of the witcher's deeply treasured lover?”

“Jaskier the greatest bard to have ever graced the continent!”

“Jaskier? I feel like I’ve heard that name before,” you tested the name on your tongue, racking your frizzled head to place the name.

Jaskier grinned and you instantly knew how anyone, even a grumpy witcher could fall in love with him. His very being was magnetic. His smile, the devil’s. “Does my reputation precede me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, his voice dropping to a purr. “Tell me, what have you heard of me?”

“It's going to kill me but I have heard your name before. I feel like I should know you.” Frustration clouded your mind and your head began to ache. It was cold and you were forgetting very simple knowledge. “There aren’t many witcher’s bards walking around the continent. I should know who you are.”

Seeing your distress, Jaskier leapt from his bed. He was by your side before you even heard him move. Definitely a witcher’s bard, you thought absentmindedly. He tipped your head back to look into your hazy, unfocused eyes. Jaskier laid the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature. “You’re hot as a fire,” he scolded.

“My witcher won’t like you saying that,” you whispered, tongue dry and voice hoarse.

The shockingly strong bard lifted you in his well toned arms. You were taller than him but he held you like you weighed nothing. “I think your witcher would be more upset with me if I let you grow cold on the floor.”

“I thought I was hot as a fire?”

You were laid back on your sea of furs, head gently settled on the pillow. The bard tucked you into place like you were a sick child under his care. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he brushed a stock of hay from your hair. He began to sit at the edge of the makeshift bed when a low growl drew both of your attentions to the doorway. A frazzled witcher stalked his way to your bed and Jaskier all but leapt out of the way before he was impaled by two very big, scary swords.

Eskel drew you into his arms, cradling you as he tucked you against each nook of his body. He was an imposing wall of force and rumbling words. His amber eyes glared at the bard and Jaskier sprinted back to his side of the room. “I-I mean no harm, dear friend. I was merely lending a hand to a companion in need.”

“Mine,” Eskel said lowly, eyes tracking Jaskier’s slightest moments. His ears strained to hear every beat of Jaskier's heart.

“Yours, yes. All yours, dear witcher.” Jaskier held out his hands to show Eskel that he could not do no harm. “I never even considered otherwise.” Eskel took note of his lack of weapon, his gaze finally landing on Jaskier’s medallion. He held you closer and sniffled the air. All you could smell was a goat that hadn’t been washed since the day it was born and Jaskier’s choice in beverage. But Eskel seemed to smell something else because he relaxed his hold, still keeping you on his lap.

“Where’s your witcher?” Eskel asked, recognizing the scent of a brother.

“He’s out securing a room for us. There are many contracts to be done around here, as I’m sure you are aware. He’s on a hunt but should be back any moment.” You watched as Jaskier unbuttoned his doublet, pulling down his collar to reveal red bite marks. They were recent, perhaps a day or two old. “You see, I have no eyes for your lover. I’ll have you know I’m very satisfied with my witcher.”

Eskel huffed out a laugh and it was the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. “So Geralt really fell in love with a bard?”

“What lies has he been feeding you?” came the teasing voice of the mentioned devil.

[cosmos-coma]

Hello My Old Heart- Part 1

A/N: So... I had a hard heartbreak this past summer. and this was after closing myself off for quite a while from things like this, so this fic is a labor of love to myself. As the title alludes to, this is overall based on the song ‘Hello my old heart’ by the Oh Hellos (which I strongly recommend).

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: blood (nothing outside of canon level), fem!reader,

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You’re a retired sorceress who has finally settled down outside of the blue mountains where you made your living as a local healer. Your heart has become tired over the many years of your life. The endless emotional blows have forced you to build large walls around your heart. But that day... that day someone came and cracked your walls

____________________________________________

You are a Sorceress, well- you used to be at least; you mainly operated as a local healer now. 

You had moved to the northern reaches of the realm when you retired your services and settled into a little cottage situated between several small towns and the Blue mountains not far in the distance. Though not continuously ravaged by war like many areas in the lower continent, these people were still in need of both medicine and coin.

That morning came to you quietly; your chickens clucked amongst themselves as you let them out and the sheep followed suit. The grass and clovers bowed softly at your footfalls as you traveled about your property, performing your morning chores.

The ever-growing sun slowly warmed your skin as you moved then to the edge of your garden bed gathering herbs, flowers, and roots for your upcoming orders that day. Out of nowhere, you felt a forceful tug on the hem of your dress and you couldn't help but laugh. “Sweetheart…” you coo’d with a smile, turning to the young lamb nibbling and tugging at your clothes. “You’re a handful, Ivy….” Shaking your head you pulled her up onto your lap so she wouldn't cause any more trouble as you worked. 

Once your morning chores were mostly taken care of Ivy followed you inside to sit on your comfiest chair while you prepared breakfast. Most of the morning was normal; your regulars came by, along with a few fresh faces, but it was almost noon when your day- and life- took a turn. For the better or the worst, you had yet to decide.

The heat of the day loomed overhead and a long lull drew out your workday when a broad and bloodied man came stumbling in your door. 

“Are you- are you a healer?” He grunted out, doubled over in pain as his hand clutched his stomach and blood dripped down past his fingers. 

Your shock stilled you for half a second before you rushed to his side. “Yes, Yes, Here. Lay down here...” Quickly, and with a hand on his shoulder, you guided him to the guest bed and laid him down quickly. 

“Ran out of potions…. What an Idiot” he muttered to himself as he laid back, a hint of pain flashing over his face as he tried to settle down. He grunted in mild protest as you moved him about to untie his armor. His golden yellow eyes watched your face with both clear need and clear caution as you began to get to work. 

“Happens to the best of us, Witcher…” You offered him a small smile as you placed the damaged armor aside and lifted his shirt to look over your work area. “Fuck…” you whispered and turned around to grab a few things. It looked as if something tried to gut him, not even counting the rest of the claw-like scratches covering his arms and legs. 

The short laugh that came in response from him surprised you- not for its deep warm rumble, but for the lightness it made you feel in such a tense situation. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, glancing down at you with a small smile that tugged at his scarred lips. 

“Well, I won’t lie… But let’s just say you're lucky to be a Witcher. Can’t imagine anyone else surviving something like this…” you trailed off in a concentrated mumble as you began to dive into your work. 

You could feel the Witcher’s eyes watching you with a certain curiosity and softness as you worked on him. Magic streamed down your arms to your fingertips as you pressed your hand to his bloodied skin, healing the most urgent injuries and trying to offer a little pain relief. You weren't really sure how much pain Witcher’s felt, but you figured it could only help. 

Eskel wasn’t sure if it was your magic, or simply your touch that sent a jolt through his body. It was a warm sensation that swam down each limb and digit, somehow both electrifying and relaxing his every nerve. 

You toiled away with an expression of such concentration and commitment that he couldn't help but watch. Your long fingers worked with expertise as you stitched up the open wounds and your brows drawn together in full focus. 

“Like what you’re looking at, Witcher?” You asked and finally turned to catch his eyes.

Your eyes held glowing compassion and softness that  Eskel had not seen in a long time. But he could only catch a mere glimpse before he was closed off by the cold stone walls you put before it.  Despite the walls, he still felt that jolt again and he knew this time that it was no magic; it was just you. 

“Well, I won't lie…” He started, laughing a bit at his own jest. “They call me Eskel.” He rumbled out and followed with a warm smile, something your own expression couldn't help but reflect. 

You snorted out a bit of a  laugh and nodded, putting down the final bandage before wiping your hands on your already dirtied dress. “They call me Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Alright, Eskel- it looks like you're all patched up now, but you’ll need to sleep off some of that blood loss, okay?” You stood to grab a blanket for your guest, but it seems he had other plans. 

“I’ll be fine. I should get back out there anyways…” He began to sit up, ignoring your advice and going to grab his things. 

“Hey-” you said shortly, holding a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “you're going to pop your stitches going back out there so fast. Lay down, okay?” 

“Y/n, It’ll be okay. I’m a Witcher-” He started, but didn't have the chance to finish his full thought before you placed your hand on his chest.

“I said rest, Eskel…” your hand grew warm with magic as you firmly but gently pushed him back, suggesting his body into sleep- not unlike using Axii. His body grew limp with little resistance and soon was fast asleep against the pillow.

“I hate doing that…” You sighed. You abhorred forcing patients to sleep, but knew sometimes it was for the best- and Witchers were almost always too rowdy to stay still of their own accord. 

With a soft sigh to blow the hair out of your eyes, you cleaned up your area and got the large man a blanket. Coming over once again, you took a moment to pause and really look over your patient.

His face was… well he was actually rather handsome. His cheek was pulled tight by scars that ran from his eye to his mouth, pulling his lips up in what some might think looked like a sneer, but to you, it looked almost like a permanent little smile. Your hand reached out unconsciously to run your thumb across the long scar on his chin, sending its own wave of warmth through your body now that you weren't clouded by the urgency of the situation.

You ripped your hand back as the wave of feeling reached your heart. From the outside, it might have looked as if you were being burned, but you knew it as a whole other type of pain. 

You had closed off your old heart long ago, built tall stone walls around it so that no one could see inside. You were tired- tired of being hurt every time you gave your heart away, every time you tried to let someone inside. 

‘It’s not your fault, it's me.’

‘ it just wasn't meant to be.’

‘I just can't give you what you deserve.’

You despised that last one and just thinking about it made your teeth grind. But you just… you couldn’t do it again- hell, you didn’t want to do it again. It always ended the same anyways. Eventually, Eskel would leave and he would forget about you and the small towns out here and life would move on like normal. 

Yes, Eskel’s touch had cracked the foundations surrounding your heart, but those walls can be fixed with time. 

All things can.

_______________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight

(wanna be added to the taglist? taken off? no worries! just DM me and let me know!)

[cosmos-coma]

A Gift From Above - Part 1

A/N: This is my first ever fic, so I understand if it’s not your thing but please be kind! I have it in my mind that It’ll be a multi-chapter thing, but your kind words will help motivate me to keep it going! Italics are internal thoughts, and POV does shift occasionally (shown with dividers)

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: Gore (nothing outside of canon level), fem!reader, it’s pretty much just introspection and fluff for this chapter, 

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You are a healer and herbalist gifted with magic by your deities. You keep having dreams of a handsome man in a red and black tunic, but what happens when you find him?

________________________________________________________

“Y/N…” 

Said with all the tenderness of summer's breath, his voice was low and loving. His red and black tunic was vibrant and warm in the glow of the evening sun, the armored spikes on his shoulders glinting back at you. Your foreheads were pressed together, lost in the world of each other and the comfortable heat radiating from his skin. You reach up to tenderly trace down the scarred cheek before you, thumb brushing over the notch in his lip that lets you just see the white of his teeth.

You whisper his name in return, but no sound comes. You struggle to bring his name to your lips, but why? You know his name, it's right there on your tongue… So why won’t your mouth say it..?

You screw your lips together in frustration and glance at him, but you can't see his eyes, only his marred cheek, and slightly crooked nose. Most likely broken and reset too many times to count. I want to see him, I need to see him… You think to yourself and you try to force your gaze upwards, but the effort seems to strain your eyes. Behind your eyes begins to burn, but finally, your eyes break free of their invisible hold and you see naught but a flash of honey-gold before you gasp yourself awake. 

“That dream again...that man...” you groan to yourself and rub your head, pulling the blanket off you. 

You had been having that same dream for months now, the same man, the same setting, but you still struggled for his name. Everything about him seemed so familiar, but you know you'd never seen him before. He made your head race, your breath catch, and your heart feel warm at just the sight of his face. You had grown rather fond of this man, despite his identity eluding you. You could tell that you loved him in your dreams, much like a flower loves the sun 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you glance around at your surroundings. Right, I stopped at an inn last night you thought. As you stand to get up you take a glance out the window at the trees swaying in the breeze. You smile gently and wave back at them before going about your morning routine.

You‘ve been a traveling herbalist and healer for a while now, using your talents to help heal the sick and wounded. Occasionally you found it in you to help small plagued towns, but you knew it always came at a price to you. You held magic in you, but not necessarily your own magic. You had spent much of your childhood and young adult years as an acolyte, praying to your various deities to which your temple housed shrines to. Your gods were old and often looked over in favor of the gods “of the next generation” so to speak. They are the ones who gifted you your magic, each gave a small fraction of their true powers, but it was still enough to level whole kingdoms if desired.

 Desire…. Your gods understood, despite their trust in you, that power becomes easily corrupt. It had happened countless times in the millennia they’d watched over these lands. So your power came with two conditions:

One- your magic strips away your energy and wears you down proportional to how much you use at one time.

And two- this magic can be taken back at any time.

Of course, it scares you, that this power you've finally begun to understand, that you feel like you're doing good with, can be taken back if they feel you aren't using it right. Not to mention that power like that…. People have been fighting for absolute power for as long as we’ve been around. And though you believed that deep down, people were good at heart, there are always exceptions. There are always people who wish to rule the world at the expense of another’s power.

You sigh and take a second to glance at your face in the mirror, rubbing a hand over your cheek.

Am I using my powers correctly? 

What happens if I can’t justify what I do? 

What if what I do has horrible consequences?

You sigh and splash water over your face, washing the thoughts away “I’m doing the best I can when I can… I can only hope that's enough”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts and tug on your cloak to continue your journey onto the next town.

```

“Eskel..” 

Oh her smile broke through him like light through a prism. He could only see down past her nose, but that was all he needed. She smiled so brightly up at him, for him, because of him, and for the first time, he was left utterly breathless. She said his name softly so that only he could hear it above the breeze moving past, keeping the moment just between the two of them.

He felt himself flinch instinctually as she slowly brought her hand up to touch his scars. Undeterred, her hands kept their course and landed on his scarred cheek. Her cool fingers felt refreshing on his tight scars and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as her thumb brushed the notch in his lip. 

As he breathed in again he caught the familiar scent of her. Lily of the valley and… forest– damp forest, the kind that settles into you minutes after the rainstorms of spring have passed. 

He closed his eyes and turned into her palm to plant a kiss, greedy for the rare affection being shown to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest, not wanting her to let her go again. Both of their racing hearts rang out in his ears as he felt her leaning in closer to him, her breath now tickling his cheek.

“I’m waiting for you…” 

Eskel opened his eyes from the surprising sleep he had gotten and almost regretted being in the waking world. He sat up from his bedroll and glanced around camp, making sure things were in order. His heartbeat was still ringing in his ears, but this time it was alone. He was alone. Again. 

He’d been having the same dream for the last few months, always with the same woman, only this time they were coming more frequently. It had been the second time this week he’d seen her in his dreams. Usually, she only came to him once a month, if that. It was a nice way to tide over the lonely life of a Witcher, but lately, it had become more of an ache. ‘I’m waiting for you’ she says, but where? How do I find you? And what do I do when we finally meet?

It was starting to get more frustrating than anything. Someone who seemed to actually love him was always within arms reach, but never for long enough. But why was he getting these dreams? He could almost hear Geralt scoff in the back of his mind as the thought of “fate” passed by him. Whatever it was, he knew he had to find you, if not for “fate”, than for his own sanity. He couldn't take this cloud of emotion fogging his mind anymore. He felt like a teenager lost in the silly idea of love. 

He grunts these thoughts away as he gets up, shuffling through camp to smudge out the protective charms he had placed between the trees surrounding him. The sun was out and flitting down through the canopy above him and that told him it was high time he got moving to his next contract.

```

You had been traveling for a few days now, often camping out in the woods so you could stretch your coin enough to buy some much-needed ingredients. It had been around midday and the sun was at its peak when you turned off the path to take a shortcut through the forest. It would only take off an hour or so from your travels, but you figure it was worth it if you could reach town faster. 

A low growl and whine several yards away pulled you from the rhythmic rocking of your horse and drew your attention to the thinning woods to your left. Hopping off your horse you carefully grabbed the long wooden staff you used to protect yourself with and tip-toed your way towards the sound.

Though not as quiet as you would have liked, you came upon the area about where the sound was coming from and found 4 Wyverns, laying on the ground motionless and badly bloodied. They seemed smaller and younger than some of the others you had seen flying around far away cliffs. “Must’ve been a young group still learning how to hunt..” you spoke aloud and gently poked the one closest to you. 

You nearly lept 12 feet in the air when the seemingly dead wyvern let out a pained grunt and huff and moved its head to look towards you. You held your staff at the ready, not... exactly sure what you planned to do with it if the need arose, but still! However, the creature didn't move to get up or do much of anything at all, too wounded to make a stand. 

You hesitated for a moment before drawing closer and putting your hand on its snout. As it snorted you saw a rush of blood seep out of a wound in its chest, and you understood what you must do.

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you concentrated your magic in your hands. You felt warmth move from the young creature into your hands, up your arm, and pool in your chest momentarily, before cascading its way to your feet and back into the earth. When you open your eyes again you know it’s finally dead, the warmth of its life still diminishing from its path through you. You pull your hand back and know that this was the right decision.  Just like my powers, sometimes it can be better to return life to whence it came, instead of letting it fester.

You chance a look around and notice that these wyverns died of… sword wounds? And human footsteps appeared indented in the damp earth. They seemed to move quickly and expertly, except for one spot. The footsteps in this spot didn’t seem as fluid as the last ones and were splattered with blood. Quickly you called your horse back to your side and followed the trail of blood winding through the forest.

You lost your breath when you came upon the sight before you. A man in a red and black tunic with shoulder spikes was laid on his side, hand in his bag as if he had searched for something. He was the same man from your dreams and he was barely moving.

Without thought, you raced over to him, tripping on tree roots and having to stumble the last few feet to the curled-up man. You rolled him onto his side and immediately your hand went to his marred cheek. “Oh my god, it is you..” you watched his half-lidded honey-gold eyes flick up to you, hazy and a bit unfocused, but oh he broke into the most beautiful smile. 

“Found you…” he whispered in a heavy voice, laden with exhaustion and a bit of amusement. You watched as he closed his eyes, a faint smile pulling at the notch of his lips. 

“No, no, no. You come back here” you rushed out and scanned him over, only now taking in the large gash across his abdomen. He was still breathing and you could feel his heart beating slow.

“You owe me an explanation big guy, I'm not done with you yet” you chide him and hastily pull up his clothing to examine the wound. It’s alarmingly deep and bleeding heavier than you feel comfortable with, but it shouldn’t be anything you cant handle.

You fuss with his armor, making quick works of the ties, and pull it and his twin swords off. He’s much heavier than he looks, and lifting him to remove his armor proved more clumsy than anything else, but you still managed. Once his armor was off and his tunic was pulled up his smattering of scars was exposed to the sun. You laid your hands on him gently and as you felt the power in you swell you saw the medallion around his neck begin to vibrate in response. 

As you watched his flesh slowly knit together from the inside out you felt your arms ache and your head throb with exhaustion. You gritted your teeth as the final centimeters of skin came together and finally pulling your hands back you felt a bit of relief. 

You sat back and breathed heavily as you flexed your fingers before you. Taking in the calm moment you finally take a minute to really look over the man before you. He’s covered in so many scars, deep and shallow, long and short, thin and knotted. You cant imagine the pain he has endured throughout his lifetime. Kneeling forward you gently touch the medallion around his neck, the heavy wolf head was cool against the man's unusually warm skin. 

“A Witcher..” you breathed. You had heard of Whitcher's before, heard of how they’re as ruthless, mindless, and heartless as the monsters they hunt. The bridge between man and monsters- in more ways than one. 

But the man before you didn’t seem like the stories people spread. He still had the faintest smile plastered on his lips despite his brow having been furrowed with pain and discomfort. And he seemed rather handsome, in his own unusual way. 

You gazed at him for a little longer, before shaking yourself out of your haze. You smear an herbal paste over his tender new scar and wrap bandages over it to ensure nothing goes sideways with the rest of the healing. Once you’re satisfied with your handiwork you start to get a fire going, being unsure of how long you’ll be stationed here.

[thesleepy1]

One Djinn's Answer

A/N: @estrogen on AO3 and @suomi932654 on Tumblr wanted another part to One Dijnn Wish. They fell in love with Amelia just as much as I did. I’m sorry it took so long for this fic to get out. I’m trying to learn how to accept that I’m writing for the fun of it. Not out of obligation. I do this for fun, not as a job. I just have to get that inside of my little ol’ noggin. I could call it quits any day and feel no guilt because I don’t owe anyone anything. (I also wrote this fic listening to sad Taylor Swift songs so you have that to blame for the outcome of this fic) 

Pairings: Eskel x Mom/Healer!Reader

Summary: After a long year on the Path on his own, Eskel is supposed to return to you for the winter. The thing is he’s late. Or not coming at all. You regret putting your trust in someone despite all the signs telling you not too. The worst part is Amelia is still sitting by the door waiting for the day he comes home.  

Or, “honestly i am here for the father-daughter bonding so maybe something like spending time with the reader and adjusting to the role as a father and just that good domestic fluff :] or maybe something like eskel doing his best to prove that he’s not going to up and leave bc i would imagine the reader would still have some doubts as to whether he really meant what he said or not but honestly these are just my ideas!

i immediately pictured amelia stealing the reader’s things and then giving them back as a birthday present like something off extreme cheapskates 😭 and no worries! if you don’t make one, that’s totally okay whatever you pump out next will be an absolute masterpiece i’m 100% certain and you can’t change my mind 😤😤 if you ever need a beta reader or smth hmu

i’m sure she could pick pocket from strangers, get caught, and they’d probably give her an extra few just because she’s cute like this girl really has a shot as a criminal and i am here for it ✊😤 do what i cannot because unfortunately i am not 6 and laws on planet earth forbid me from stealing from others and no problem!”

Word count: 7,149

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, 

Part 1

It should have been simple. After Amelia had claimed Eskel for a father, you struck a deal with the witcher. He would spend the year on the path as he had always done. But during the winter, instead of heading up to the Keep, he would spend the winter with you and Amelia. This conclusion was not an easy one to come to. On one hand, you felt guilty that you would be taking Eskel from his Keep. On the other hand, you thought it was unfair that he spend nine whole months away from Amelia. 

From you. 

Guilt, nervous, and admittedly fear clung to your skin when you bid Eskel farewell for the year. Amelia hid her emotions poorly. She outright cried at the prospect that Eskel would be leaving. It took much reassurance on your part and many comforting hugs on Eskel’s for her to allow him to go. “I’ll be back in the winter,” Eskel had said with a lump in his throat. Unbeknownst to you until that moment, Eskel felt just as many conflicting emotions at having to leave his loves. “I promise.” 

*****

The first few days Eskel was gone, Amelia would not speak to you. You were not sure if it was because she blamed you for Eskel’s leaving or she needed time on her own. You would leave for the village during the day as you’ve always done. Amelia would be left home alone with strict instructions to keep herself fed and safe. When you returned with sore feet and an empty basket, she would be out in the fields behind your house. 

Your own mind fought with yourself. You never knew whether to approach her or give her time to mull over her own thoughts. She would seek you out if she needed you. However, what if she did not admit to herself that she wanted you? To push forward or to wait behind. You were glad you were not a fisher or a hunter. A healer’s profession was much more straightforward. 

“Ma?” Amelia called for you a week after Eskel had left for the Path. 

You paused in your potion fixing. The herbs could be crushed at a later time. Turning, you wiped your hands clean with a linen cloth and placed it on your work table. Amelia stood before you. Her year old boots were caked with field mud as always. Her dark, disorderly hair stabbed at her big molten brown eyes. She peered up at you through her fawnish eyelashes. She had grown so much in the past few months but she was still your baby. 

“Yes, darling?” you replied, giving her your full attention. 

“When…” She glanced down at her boots, hands fisted in the skirt of her dress. None of her clothes ever stayed clean for long. “When is Da coming back? Is he coming back?” 

You could not help but kneel then. Your knees found purchase on your floorboards, your arms outstretched for your daughter’s comfort. “Oh, come here,” you urged softly. Amelia ran into your arms as fast as her little legs could carry her. The only reason you did not fall back backwards was because of your sturdy wood table. Your arms went around Amelia’s small frame, hands brushing back her unruly hair so you could see her face clearly. “We agreed he’ll be back in winter. He has to work during the year, darling.” 

“How long is it until winter?” she whined into your chest, breathes coming in heaves. Her little fists grabbed hold on your tunic, tugging on the fabric hard enough to rip. “I want Da back. I-I miss him.” 

You kissed the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of wheat, flax, and rice. Your hand went down to her back to rub in circles. With one quick lift with your free hand, she sat on your lap with her face tucked into your chest. “I miss him too,” you admitted for the first time in days. “I wish he was here every day, but I can’t ask him to give up what he loves.” You gently pushed Amelia back so she could look at you. Her brown cheeks still had the remnants of baby fat, doughy and tear stained. 

Unable to help yourself, you brushed away her tears with your thumb. She shook your hand away like you knew she would. “Think about it this way. You would not like giving up your trips to the village would you?” Amelia hesitated but nodded her agreement. “Da wouldn’t like giving up his work and I won’t make him. It would be very mean and unfair of me to ask that of him, wouldn’t it.” 

“I guess,” Amelia shrugged before returning to her place on your chest. She laid her head over where your heart would rest. “I still miss Da, though.” 

“And you have every right to. Winter will be here before you know it.” You kissed her again before she could complain that she was too old for such affection. “He did promise after all.” 

*****

Winter came slowly that year. It took a while for the seasons to change. It was days until the harsh winds of autumn turned into the snowfall of winter. Harvest season came and went without much hassle. Amelia assisted in the village with you during that time. She was quick on her feet running little errands whenever the need arose.

During the day when the drooping sun decided to show itself, you would walk with Amelia bundled from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The extra layers and lowering temperatures did not seem to make her falter. If anything, it seemed to invigorate her. She knew what the first snowfall of the season meant. Amelia had been waiting months for it. 

When night came after a day of tending to the village, Amelia was always insistent about returning home. She did not have much empathy for the sick postmaster who needed someone by his side or the nun with trouble sleeping at night. Amelia did not care for the messengers who struggled with delivering letters and worrying about their superior. Nor did she pay much mind to the grumpy nun who needed sleep like frogs needed water. Amelia wanted to go home once the sun set. 

“What if Da’s returned and didn’t see us? What if he thought we left him?” Amelia urged, your basket already in hand. “He would be heartbroken, Ma. Heartbroken.” Your patients were typically charmed by Amelia’s ability to speak unabatingly but the nun had not had a wink of sleep in several days. “He might be home already!” 

“Amelia,” you stated firmly, hands trying to placate the irritated nun. “If you are unwilling to help then you may wait outside.”

“Could I run home first? I promise to be careful.” 

“When the sun has already set? Da would be terribly cross with me if I allowed that,” you tried to reason with your six, almost seven year old daughter. “He worries for your safety just as much as I do. You wouldn’t want him cross with you, do you, darling?” 

That was the final hit on the nail’s head. Amelia sat fidgeting, yet patient by the door until you were finished. An hour passed but she waited just as you had asked. When you were done, giving the nun a sleeping draught that would not interfere with her existing mediation, Amelia grabbed your hand and pulled you through the door. 

She ran ahead of you, making sure to stay where you could still see her as were the terms. Her footfalls on snow covered ground were music to your ears. You had kept it to yourself, but anticipation curled in your stomach like a night of drinking strong mead. You ached for Eskel’s safe return as much as your daughter did. It was not easy caring for Amelia over the months when you had gotten used to Eskel’s help. His gentle reassurances and strong, yet comforting touches kept you going on the most stressful of days. 

Amelia reached home before you did. You had, foolishly, expected a horse to be tied to a fencepost and a witcher to be at your door front. All you were met with was a lone, small child on a cold stone pathway. She appeared so minuscule on the path that her biological father had helped build. He too was unable to keep his promises, honeyed words nothing but fantastical lies. 

“Do you think he went to the village to look for us?” She shifted on her heel as if to make a run for the village. You grabbed a hold of her shoulder before she could make the sprint. Regretfully, you urged her into the fireless, dark house. “Maybe he’s running late. Da’ll be here soon, right? Let's keep the door unlocked for him.” 

“Come, Amelia.” 

“I’m good at finding liars, Ma. He promised he’ll be back at winter.”

You would regret saying it for days. You would wish with everything that you had to take back your words. “Your ability must have worn over time. You’re almost old enough to realize what’s fantasy and what’s reality.” 

*****

Amelia waited by the door. She wanted to wait outside so that Eskel would know they were home, but to that you would not yield to. She sat herself in front of the door with her hands clenched around her toys. The fish and doll that Eskel had fixed for her. You had never seen her so still, so patient for something that would never arrive. She spent the whole night there, refused dinner, and fought with you about sleep. She had been worse than the nun. 

The next day was the same. Waiting. Sat on the floor with her toys and her eyes set on the door. She shook her head to your offer of going to the village. Ignored your repeated words of faith and trust and the worst place to put them. Her stubbornness was as unfaltering as her strides while sprinting. 

She was there by the door when you returned that night. The fire had gone out untouched and the cooking pot was as clean as you had left it that night after supper. Her determination was still fiery despite all the signs.  Amelia would not listen to your words, she would not head to the warnings. She merely waited by the door. Day…after day. 

“Amelia, please eat,” you pleaded with her. Knees on the floor once more, you sat with a plate of roasted carrots, beef, and collard greens to your side.

“He’s coming.” 

“Please, Amelia. You haven’t eaten all day. I’m worried about you.” 

“He’s coming…right?” There. That moment of doubt. Her gaze left the door for the first time in ages. Her will had been strong. Stronger than yours ever was. But she was not dumb. Foolish perhaps, as all children and heart stricken fools were, but never dumb. She, like you, will merely have to face the truth sometime. 

“You’re awfully good at finding liars,” you began, setting your spoon down on your plate. You addressed Amelia, your sweet, little girl. “You’ll know what you want to hear would be a lie.” 

“Is—is it because of me? Is he not coming because of me?” 

You pulled her close to you on the floor. You heard her bones pop at the moment from disuse. “Why would you think that? What could possibly possess you to think it's your fault?” Your hand went to her back as you felt the telltale uneven breaths. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“I have…I’ve done something bad. That’s why, Eskel—” Not Da. “Doesn’t want to come back to us. To me...” She cried, though it was not the right word, felt the most immense pain imaginable was a tad closer. “I-I stole this from him.” Amelia pulled out a metal spike that had been hidden in the twine of her doll. The doll she held close and embraced at night. At first, you did not know what she had in her hand. Then the metal glinted off the light of the fireplace and you suddenly recognized it as a spike from Eskel’s tunic. 

“I’m really sorry, Ma,” Amelia sobbed, words so slurred you could hardly make them out. Dark bags circled her eyes from nights she stayed awake waiting. “I only wanted a part of him. I-I never meant to make him not want to come back to you. I’m sorry I ruined everything.” 

You tucked her into the crook of your neck as Eskel had done all those months ago. The weight on her was heavy in your arms but you held her regardless. Amelia clutched at you as she had done her toys, nails digging into your skin, hand unwilling to let go. “No, no, darling. You haven’t ruined anything. None of this is your fault. You did something any child would. Only a monster would find fault with what you did.” 

“I wanted him as a Da so bad, but he doesn’t want me as a daughter.” 

*****

Amelia cried for hours before she was too exhausted to continue. Your knees ached and your muscles screamed for you to move but you did not dare stop Amelia from letting out her emotions. You stayed on the floor with her in your arms until her sobs stopped. Even then you waited for her to fall asleep before daring to move. Her arms went lax and her breaths evened out.

You carried her to bed and pulled the covers over her so she was nice and snug. It was the least that you could do. This small bit of comfort for the days to come. You still remembered what it felt like when her biological father had left. This was going to feel a hundred times worse. Amelia remembered Eskel unlike her biological father. Eskel was a good man unlike the other. You hardly expected this pain to go away the next morning. It would linger for ages to come. You could only hope you were strong enough to help Amelia through it. 

*****

With the morning came a snow storm that forced you to stay home. Amelia slept with minimal stirring. The fire roared, flames making the logs crackle. Furs and blankets were piled high on beds. Stores of cheese and cocoa powder were brought out for hot chocolate when Amelia woke. Until then, you went about tidying your home. Anything to keep you busy until Amelia emerged and another conversation was needed. 

Despite the snow coming down hard, window panes completely frosted over, a weighted knock sounded at the door. Your broom was quickly put away in case there was a patient you needed to tend to. Years ago, Petros, a little boy in the village that Amelia would play with, fell terribly ill in the first days of winter. His poor mother had braved the cold to come calling for aid. You would rather not make the woman wait, swinging the door open. 

Eskel stood in front of you. 

His shoulders were hunched over to protect the rest of his body from the winds. His bags were swung over his back, his sword a gray rod of ice. He looked at you as if you were a crackling bonfire in the middle of a freezing mountain range. There was hope, and more importantly guilt and worry in his amber eyes. He stood alone on the cold stone pathway. He appeared minuscule in the snowfall. 

“I’m sorry.” Amelia’s ability to find liars must have come from her biological father because you almost believed Eskel. “I do not deserve your forgiveness but please, I beg of you, know that I am sorry.” 

Neither of you spoke for a moment. The rush of snow, dusts, and whatever else the snow carried covered you both in a fine layer of grayish white. Your body ached to shiver from the cold but you did not want Eskel to see even an ounce of weakness from you. The fire hissed and popped, the wind carrying inside of your home. 

“Do you realize the damage that you have done?” 

Eskel looked down, eyes brimming with sorrow. He did not shiver from the cold. His witcher mutagens would allow him to stand in the storm for hours. You were tempted to send him away without another word, force him to trudge away with his tail tucked between his legs. You did not like the sight of him there, but alas, some part of your heart urged you to speak to him. 

“I could only imagine but I will never begin to fathom.” 

“She waited for you for days.” I waited for you. “Day in and day out she waited by the door, Eskel. She didn’t eat, didn’t move from her place on the floor. All because she was waiting for the day you would stumble through the door.” You clenched your hands into fists until your nails dug into your palm. You could feel the sting of pain when you drew blood. You knew Eskel could smell it. The furrow of his brow and his hesitant step forward was telling. 

“I promise you, I did everything in my power to be here on time,” his voice came in rough rumbles. It took a moment for you to realize he was on the verge of crying. “My horse was stolen. My trek here was on foot.” He sucked in a shallow breath, body trembling with the action. “I sent word that I would be late. I’m sorry that I am.” 

“Sent word?” you asked, flabbergasted at his words, at his person. “I don’t want your flimsy excuses. I don’t want your sugar coated apologies. I am the one who has to deal with the aftermath of your actions while you can up and leave any time you want.” You sneered at him. He might have been a witcher but the look on your face was enough to scare anyone. The wind howled in your aid. 

“I’m so, so sorry, my dear. Truly I am. Please give me the chance to—” 

You cut off his words with a hand. Out of the storm a lone figure approached your home. You could see them at the fence posts, a figure who moved with haste. Eskel peered at them and stepped to the side of the path, having deemed them innocent. You recognized the figure then, close yet still coated with snow. He was one of the postmaster’s messengers. 

“I apologize for the delay, Healer,” the messenger, Szczepan said while trying to catch his breath. Despite the cold, sweat formed on his brow from his run. “The message was marked urgent but I couldn’t get it to you what with the postmaster being sick. Thank you again for saving him.” Szczepan smiled with missing teeth and handed you a small, cloth wrapped note. “Good day, Healer. Try to stay warm,” he jested, waving you farewell and nodding politely to Eskel as he left. 

You watched Szczepan leave. Ignoring Eskel, you opened the cloth wrapped message. You may not have seen the writing often but even you could recognize who it belonged to. It was short, sweet, and to the point. It, unfortunately to your terrifying act, made tears form at the corner of your eyes. You allowed your body to shiver from the cold, from the note in your hand. 

Dear Loves,

I’m so sorry but I will not be able to make it on the first day of winter. I got into some trouble with some bandits. I no longer have my horse. I will be making the rest of the trip on foot, but know that I am coming. Please wait for me. I should be there in a week’s time. Know that I am not there with you right now because of something outside of my control. If I had it my way I would already be home with you two. I love you two dearly.

Please wait for Da, Amelia.

You looked up at Eskel. His gaze was no longer on the frozen ground. He looked at you with the same, desperate, warm seeking eyes. Wiping the stray water from your eyes, you tried your hand at firmness. Your eyes harden on the missing spike on his tunic. Eventually you landed on his amber eyes. “How do you expect me to console Amelia still? This delay, this letter doesn’t fix the fact that she waited for you for days. Did you really think you could appear from thin air and expect her to forgive you so easily? She’s almost seven, Eskel. Instead of spending the days leading up to her birthday spending time with her Da, she spent them blaming herself for you not coming.” 

“Please give me the chance to remedy my mistakes. I honestly tried to be here in time. Let me speak to her.” He took a step closer. You allowed him to because you were helplessly a bleeding heart. “Let me prove to you that this was a one time mistake. I wouldn’t abandon you and Amelia.” 

You held the note tightly, a deep sigh leaving your lungs. “I’m not the one you should be begging for forgiveness, Eskel. We both know how stubborn Amelia is. She won’t be happy with you.” You could pinpoint the moment where Eskel’s eyes hardened with determination. It was a similar expression to the one Amelia wore waiting for him. “Know that it will take time for her to trust you again.” 

“I understand—.” 

You were rudely shoved to the side as a quick body push passed you to run and jump into Eskel’s arms. Despite his heightened senses, you could tell that he was not expecting the small body that was suddenly clinging onto him like a lifeline. His arms immediately went around her so as to not drop her, to not cause her anymore unnecessary pain. 

“Da! You’re home. You’re home!” Amelia squealed, a smile painted across her face. The few in days. She shivered at the snowstorm but refused to let go of Eskel. Of her Da.

“I’m home, Amelia,” Eskel cried, tears streaming down his scarred face. “I’m so sorry I was late. I tried to send word but I’m sorry you did not get it in time. Please forgive me for not being here like I said I would,” the great, intimidating witcher begged for the mercy of an almost seven year old. 

“I’m not sorry that you’re here.” Amelia pushed back from Eskel so she could look at him. Even from a distance you could feel the scrutinizing look that Amelia gave the witcher. She took note of all of his new scars, at the frost burn on his skin, the purplish mark near his brow. You knew she thought he looked incredible. “I’m not sorry that you’re late either. You’re here. My Da’s home because he loves us.” 

“I love you both so much.” 

*****

While you were still unsure about Eskel, Amelia had no such qualms. She was wholly and truly glad that her Da was home. The two were sewn together at the hips with the loose ends tied with a pretty knot. Where Eskel went, one could expect to see Amelia not far away. You pushed down the pang of jealousy only because you had Amelia’s attention the rest of the year. You could put up with three months of Amelia’s attention on Eskel.

Hopefully. 

“Can I open it now?” Amelia begged for the nth time that day. The box wrapped with parchment and ribbon was clenched tightly in her hands. It was no bigger than the size of her head but she acted as if it contained a dragon’s hoard. Amelia pleaded with Eskel with big, joyous eyes. Her lips were curved with a big pout. You knew that it took everything within Eskel not to give in. You knew that if it had been you, you would have given in the moment her lips began to quiver. 

“Not until after dinner,” Eskel replied, playfully teasing her hair. 

“Da! That’s ages away. Can I just please open it now? It is my birthday.” 

Eskel kneeled down so he was level with Amelia. His expression was free of irritation or annoyance at Amelia’s constant begging. There was just amusement at the antics of his daughter. At this point, that was what Amelia was. Eskel’s daughter just as much as your own. If the way she looked at him didn’t give it away, it was the way he peered at her little brown eyes. “Don’t you want any honey cake? We spent all morning on it. Won’t you like to give it a try first?”

“Before dinner?” Amelia asked, side eyeing Eskel as if she did not care of his answer. You hid a chuckle in the sleeve of your—Eskel’s tunic—because she was fooling no one. 

“After,” Eskel stated, assertively. 

“Ma?” 

“After,” you echoed, trying to hide your grin at her defeated expression. She graciously returned the box wrapped with parchment to Eskel’s hand with a lowered head. 

“Can I at least know what’s in there?” 

This time Eskel did not even attempt to hide the laughter that burst from deep within his chest. His laugh was contagious, a booming sound that would catch anyone’s attention. His scars stretched as a grin overtook his face. “That would defeat the purpose of it being wrapped, wouldn’t it?” 

*****

It was a complete coincidence that yours and Amelia’s birthdays were both in winter. Amelia’s was near the beginning and yours was at the end of the first month. You were not as excited about your birthday as the now seven year old was. Your birthdays were always just another day, another reminder that a year had gone by. 

Amelia on the other hand had been ecstatic. Spending her birthday with Eskel was perhaps the best in her life. He had gifted her two handcrafted, Oxenfurtian dolls that must have cost him a fortune. One was of a silver wolf with the softest fur you had ever felt and the prettiest tail. The other was of a little goat with brown markings on her face and little horns. Eskel had explained he asked the dollmaker to make the horns out of velvet so Amelia would not hurt herself. 

You had gifted her a pair of new boots and a dress you had sewn, but it was clear which she favorited.  

“What kind of cake would you prefer for your birthday?” Eskel asked you the morning of yours. The dusty, decrepit cookbook of yours was placed in front of the witcher. You had not personally touched the thing in years, but it still somehow managed to have loose pages. He turned the pages with the tips of his rough fingers, his callouses getting caught on the edges. “Honey cake seems to be Amelia’s favorite, but Sernik might be good with the cheese from the market.” 

“What are you doing Eskel?” you asked the witcher with an apron on. You were not so similarly dressed in your winter coat, skirts, extra layers, and boots. For some reason you weren’t able to find your fur lined gloves and you had looked everywhere for them. Your healer’s basket hung on the crook of your arm filled with medicine for the village and an extra coat. Eskel on the other hand had barely tied his tunic that morning. You could see his dark chest hair sticking out of the opening on his torso. 

“Making a cake for your birthday.” 

You narrowed your eyes in slight confusion. He must have recognized the look because he quickly went on, “Would you rather I make a different pastry? Amelia said you didn’t mind cake, but that could have been a ploy for her to get more.” Eskel chuckled, gently turning yet another page. “I could try my hand at pączki if you’d prefer.” 

“But why?” you asked honestly. 

“A little selfish on my part but I quite like pączki. I’ve never made them before but my father used to make them when I was younger.” Eskel shrugged, “I thought perhaps you might like them as well.” 

“Not the pączki, Eskel,” you rolled your eyes, setting down your basket to approach the monster hunter. “Why are you going through the trouble for this? It's just another day.” 

“It’s not just another day. It’s the day you were born and we should celebrate the fact that you’re here and alive.” Eskel stepped away from the cookbook with a fraying spine. He took your face in his large hands. You let him, curious to see what sweet words left his tongue. “I want to honor one of the strongest, bravest, and most compassionate people I know. I’ve known many people in my life but none as unwavering as you.”

“Must I wait till dinner to open my presents as well?” you teased, brushing away the wetness at your eyes. Eskel seemed to take you in for a moment longer than necessary. Your heart beated quickly and he must have been taking note of it. 

“After cake. Or pączki. If you don’t decide on something, we’ll have to settle for krupnik.” You laughed at Eskel’s mock exasperation. The sound was more common now that Eskel had come back. The thought should have been unnerving but you could not bring yourself to care. You found yourself chuckling more. 

“Pączki. Please.” You laid a hand over the one on your cheek. Your hand was miniscule in comparison to Eskel’s but it seemed to bring warmth all the same. His scarred face heated with the faintest of blushes. You leaned forward and pressed a hesitant kiss to his cheek, the side with rigid, uneven scars. “I’m sure Amelia would love to try them.”

“Try what?” came Amelia’s voice from behind you. “What are you making Da?” You turned, not stepping away from Eskel to see your daughter rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With winter came longer, colder nights and more sleep. Amelia still wore her nightdress, the blanket from her bed draped over her shoulders. 

“Good morning, Amelia,” Eskel greeted with a smile. Just as hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around your waist. His hand did not stray, it merely settled where he placed it. I’m making Pączki for your Ma’s birthday. Would you like to help me?” 

Amelia’s eyes lit up like a fireplace. A mirrored smile painted Amelia’s face and she raced back to her bedroom. She returned as quickly as she had left. In her little hands was a wad of clothes. She happily held them up to you, urging you to…unravel it to find what was inside. “Happy birthday, Ma!” 

Eskel watched over your shoulder as you slowly made work of the wad of clothes. Amelia really did not want anyone to know what was inside. A big knot in the middle of the work required an extra set of hands that Eskel was more than happy to provide. Eventually, the knot was dealt with and your present was revealed. 

It was the fur lined gloves you spent an unholy amount of time trying to look for. 

“I was wondering why you were going out without them,” Eskel smirked, a smug laugh in his tone in response to your side-eye. 

*****

Amelia held Eskel’s hand in the marketplace. The spike on Eskel’s armor was returned to its proper place with many reassuring words and quite a few warm hugs. Amelia was inseparable from her gifts from Eskel. It took much pleading from both you and Eskel for her to leave wolf and goat at home while the three of you went out to run errands.  

In actuality, you needed to go to the marketplace for supplies but Eskel had wanted to tag along. If Eskel was going somewhere, Amelia wanted to follow. That was how the three of you ended up in the middle of the bustling market. Some traders from the neighboring city were visiting and the whole town was out to see what goods they could bargain for. You, yourself could not miss the opportunity to get your hands on rarities. 

“I hope I don’t have to remind you two to be careful,” you said to the father and daughter, hand in hand. Amelia looked up at you with the most innocent face she could muster. You knew better. “I have errands I must run and I am trusting you to stay out of trouble while I am busy. Have we come to an understanding?” This was directed at the pair but your eyes were locked onto Eskel’s. He gave you a soft smile and lightly squeezed Amelia’s hand. 

“No trouble, ma’am,” he said in mock formality. His smile made the cleft in his lip stretch. Internally you scolded yourself for how much you wished to kiss it. You were in public for saint’s sake. 

“Amelia?” 

“No trouble, ma’am,” Amelia echoed. 

*****

“Da, Da!” Amelia beckoned to Eskel, a finger pointed at the stand with steaming pastries with berry fillings. It was difficult to see her through the swarm of people passing but Eskel’s heightened senses could pick out the sound of her voice anywhere. His large body also helped with wading through the throng of townsfolk. 

“Can we please get some?” She bounced up and down with excitement, grinning at the ones with a lemon custard filling. The patreis seemed to have her name written all over them. 

The man behind the stand smiled down at Amelia’s eagerness. His long dark hair was tightly braided and wrapped with a cloth embroidered with lilies and lilacs. He was already wrapping a couple pastries with beeswax paper before Eskel even made it to the stand. “How much for the two?” Eskel asked with what he hoped was a friendly expression. There was little he could do about the appearance of his face. 

“For your little girl? Free of charge. Just make sure she doesn’t eat them both too quickly or she’ll end up with a stomach ache.” The man handed the wrapped pastries to Amelia’s waiting hands. 

“I can’t ask that of you.” Eskel reached into his pouch to pull out a few coins but they were immediately rejected. 

“I have two of my own.” The man smiled at Amelia, whose face was already coated with jam filling. The red of the raspberry jam made her appear like a rabid beast digging into her kill. Eskel reached for the linen cloth you had made him pack just for this occasion. “I know how they can get when they haven’t had their morning pastries.” The man chuckled, grabbing a flask of water to wet Eskel’s cloth. 

Eskel thanked him, grateful for the help. Once Amelia was relatively clean of any carnage, he tore a piece of flaky confection. The buttery layers melted in his mouth. The jam filling had just the right amount of lemon juice to cut through the sweetness. He had wanted to try the lemon custard one as well, but Amelia had taken care of it. 

“Is it good?” Eskel asked, the beginning of a laugh in his mouth. 

Amelia nodded through a mouthful of pastry. “Thank you, sir!” Amelia said to the vendor once she had finished chewing. 

“Seeing how much you enjoyed my baked goods was payment enough. Thank you.” 

Once Amelia had had her fill, she handed Eskel the beeswax paper and wandered with a promise to not go too far. Despite Amelia’s quick feet, Eskel had his heightened senses to keep an eye on things. He trusted her word. Amelia knew better to go off on her own in such a busy crowd. 

“How old is she?” the vendor asked Eskel. He was also keeping an eye on Amelia. Eskel did not need to know the beat of his heart to know he was a father as well. The man’s hands were busy making sure his stand was clean but he always had sights on things around him. If Eskel had to bet, he’d say the man’s children were also running about. 

“She just turned seven,” Eskel said with pride. “Yours?” 

“My eldest is eight. Youngest will be five in a month.” 

“I know she’s barely turned seven, but I can’t help but feel like she’s going up so fast,” Eskel admitted honestly. “I still remember when she was just six and playing in the rice fields.” 

The vendor chuckled, a laugh that came from somewhere deep and old. “If I had a coin for every time I heard that.” He gave Eskel a knowing look. “They just can’t help it. One day they’re learning how to walk and the next they’re already helping you at the market. Before you know it, they’re off to start their own life.” 

The fear must have been evident on Eskel’s face because the vendor’s expression softened. “They might be growing quickly but that doesn’t mean they’ll immediately forget you. Sure, they might have new interests the older they get. Some good interests, some not so much.” The vendor shrugged. “Yet they always remember you.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“My brother had a little boy a decade or two ago. He was always busy with work, now with another mouth to feed he wasn’t home very often. I had to spend the majority of my nephew’s life caring for him. Then my brother got a new job that paid a hell of a lot better. He was home more often, more involved with his boy’s life.” The vendor’s hands stilled. “I always thought once the boy grew up, he’ll forget about me. Who cares about some uncle who's a baker when your father was a wealthy trader?” The man’s eyes lost their focus. A memory seemed to take him, regardless of Eskel’s presence. “But just the other day, my nephew came to visit. He has a family of his own. A kind husband and a farm all to himself. He came to thank me for what I did for him as a boy. Brought along goods from his farm, toys for the cousins, and enough stories to last me until his next visit.” 

“Trust me when I say, they won’t forget you. As long as you do them well.”   

Eskel did not realize a weight was on his shoulders until it was lifted. “Thank you,” was all he could think of to say. “Thank you.” 

“No need.” The vendor brushed him off. “Us fathers have to stick together. Raising children is no laughing matter. It's better if we work to—”

Eskel’s head whipped around at the sound of Amelia’s abrupt stop. He had been keeping his ears opened, listening to the sound of her footsteps darting between stands. The pause in her dash had him taking long strides into the crowd. A handful of people bumped into him but once they saw the look in his eyes, they quickly darted out of his way. Soon, a path through the crowd was made for him. 

Eskel listened hard and he listened close to find his daughter. The sound of her heartbeat was different from the rest. It was as familiar as his own. The quick flutter of it had his senses kicked into high gear. “I’m very sorry, ma’am.” The sound of her voice was distant but once Eskel heard it, there was nothing that could have stopped him from going to it. 

Amelia was in a conversation with a well dressed woman. Two coins were in Amelia’s hands. Eskel could only guess how they ended up there. “You dropped these,” Amelia said with the most polite tone. The skip of her heart beat gave her away. 

Eskel was about to step in when he saw the look on the woman’s face. “Oh my, thank you, dear,” the woman said with the biggest grin. “How sweet of you. I have quite a few coins to spare, why don’t you keep those?” 

“Are you sure, ma’am. It would be very rude of me to take it. They’re yours,” Amelia thrusted her handful of coins back to the woman, urging her to take them back. Eskel did not know when Amelia had the time to become such a convincing liar. For all her talk about finding lairs, she was an expert at the craft herself. Eskel did not know whether to be impressed or disappointed. 

“Oh gracious me, what saint did I please to have such a sweet girl such as you come to my aid?” The woman reached into her pouch of coins and pulled out a couple more. “Here, dear. Take these as a token of my gratitude.” 

“But I couldn’t,” Amelia insisted, her expression of worry enough to convince Eskel. 

“I must insist. Why don’t you go buy some sweets?” The woman turned away the hand of coins that Amelia offered. “Thank you again, dear. Have a wonderful day.” 

The woman walked off just as Amelia spotted Eskel in the crowd. She at least had the decency to look sheepish at having been caught. “Hello, Da,” Amelia greeted with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

“Hello, Amelia,” Eskel greeted in turn, raising a brow in question. “Would you please care to explain what I just witnessed?” 

“She said it was a token of gratitude.” 

“Must I lecture you that stealing is immoral?” 

Amelia looked down, the scent of shame soon filling the crowded streets. It was acidic to Eskel’s nose. The smell was one of Eskel’s least favorites. “Are you mad with me? A-are you going to leave?” 

Eskel kneeled so he was at Amelia’s level. He did not care for the dusty streets or the crowd that kept bumping into him. “Not mad, no. I’m not going to leave either.” He sighed, placing a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “I just thought you knew better than this.” 

“Are you going to tell Ma?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Let’s make a deal,” Amelia tired instead. Eskel did not know where she got this trait from. “Don’t tell Ma and I’ll buy you a pastry.” 

“Amelia.” 

“...and I’ll stop…” 

“Promise?” 

She nodded. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” she echoed. 

Eskel raised himself onto his feet. He held out his hand as Amelia tucked the coins into a pouch he did not notice was tied around her neck. Concern made his brow furrow. There was hardly any way of stopping Amelia once she had her mind set on something. She was much like her Ma in that way. Eskel could only hope she stayed safe while doing it. That usually meant he would have to teach her how to stay safe. 

“I want the lemon custard one,” he said in place of the thoughts swimming in his mind. 

“I’ll get you two.” 

[open--till--midnight]

Love Letters

eskel x gn!reader

summary | You and Eskel reminisce on your past when you both realize that the other has kept all the letters you’ve sent each other.

warnings | mild swearing, drinking, no smut but 18+ content, nothing else really except for the unrestrained ramblings of a hopeless romantic

wc | 1.3k

series link

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The fire in your room at Kaer Morhen burned bright and provided great warmth from the bitter cold outside as you sat across from your lover on the floor in front of it. It was late, and you were both very tired. But, much like most nights, sleep did not come easy for either of you. Usually, you would stay up talking until one of you passed out in the arms of the other, but tonight you decided to reminisce on some keepsakes. You both pulled out a small bundle. In these bundles were the many letters that were sent between the two of you. 

It was tonight, that you both found out the other had saved them all, ever since the first ones were sent. Eskel’s face lit up when you mentioned that you still had them. After laughing about it for a short while, you decided to get them out. 

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Before you gave up your old life to serve as a healer and partner for Eskel while he was on the Path, he visited your small home as frequently as he could. Though, the first time he visited it, he didn’t remember entering. Though he did remember waking up on a cot beside your fireplace and seeing you sitting at your dining table, repairing the bloodied rips in his shirt. You urged him to stay. Long enough at least for him to be able to move without his stitches popping open.

After recuperating in your house, Eskel developed a soft spot for you. And eventually, you never escaped his thoughts. He purposely chose contracts near your village and every time, you offered him a place in your home. This happened quite frequently. With every visit, you became closer, and once the first kiss was shared, you couldn’t get your hands off of each other.

Between stays, he would write to you. Little things mostly, amusing encounters and descriptions of beautiful scenery. Sometimes he would give you sneak peeks of his most recent hunts because he knew that when he came back, you would wring every detail of every story out of him. 

While he could always write to you, it wasn’t as easy getting your letters to him. On his longer hunts or when he knew his next location, he would give you an address ahead of time. Though, understandably, some of these letters never reached their target. But you were not one to be easily defeated. You made quite a bit of money in your profession, and with that, you were able to afford personal deliveries. With a known direction, a recognizable face, and of course the nonstop gossip about witchers, these letters were always received. And though he would scold you for spending the exuberant amounts of money to get the letters to him, you always ignored him with a smile. No way in hell were you going to let your lover go without hearing your words of encouragement and love, especially when he sent you so many. He never pushed too far though, just enough to get his appreciation to not go unnoticed. Those letters were the only thing that kept him going.

The letters stopped once the two of you drunkenly decided that you would join him on his adventures. A drunk mind speaks a sober heart, as they say. 

—---------------------------------------

The letters were spread out on a fur blanket, covering the cold stone floor. Beside them, sat what was left of the second bottle of wine and two goblets. Both of you were taking turns reading the letters aloud and showing the other your favorite parts.

“Ah how about this one,” Eskel started, then reading off one of your letters. “I can’t imagine. You must be in terrible pain. But! I can do you one better. This morning I hit my little toe on the leg of the table, it still hurts and now I’m too scared to look at it.”

“Hey! That really hurt,” you 

“Oh I’m sure,” he mocked with a grin.

“I found your reply! That’s exactly what you said. ‘Oh I’m sure. I imagine it isn’t even comparable to the pitiful gash on my side.’” You finished with a giggle.

“Well you were kind of right. I mean look at you.”

You gasped, “Ugh Rude!”

“I probably wouldn’t have even felt my toe hit a table leg.” 

“Lies. You want to test that.”

“No. But here was your response, ‘Big baby.’ Now that’s rude.”

“Nope. You are a big baby.” Your grin only got wider when he smiled at you and laughed.

There was a brief silence as you both turned back down to your letters, rifling and scanning the pages.

“Gods there’s some sad shit in here.” you spoke out with a quiet huff.

“Like this one. ‘Every morning starts the same way when I’m by myself. It’s maddening. I so miss your face being the first thing I see when I wake. Now it’s just a cold, empty bed I am greeted by. I think I may die without you here.’ Look how worn this letter is. I don’t even know how many times I reread it.”

Neither of you were very good at responding to statements like that. In these moments a kiss is all the response that is needed. Your kiss to him now was one of a firm understanding.

“I’m very glad you didn’t die though. Couldn’t be happier, actually,” he spoke through a cheeky smirk once you pulled away.

You poked your tongue out at him, glad he had lightened the mood. He always knew exactly how and when to do that.

It was quite sweet how much had changed since those first few letters. They were more about monsters and mishaps than love and existential longing.  Even once your relationship was established, your friendship never died. In fact, it only grew. He quickly became your best friend and continued to stay that way. Sure there was still an exuberant amount of cheesy love-talk, but it superseded romance and became something no one could ever describe. 

More letters were read, and both of you made sure to keep the mood light for now. The rest of the bottle was finished off and the letters were pushed aside. Eskel laid down on his back, parallel to the fireplace, and you laid on your stomach with your head resting on his chest while his arm wrapped around you.

The silence was comfortable. The light sounds of your breathing and the crackling of the fire were always successful in relaxing the both of you. The smell of wine still hung in the air, as well as the woody scent of parchment and the ink that stuck to it.

These were the moments you cherished, the ones you wrote to Eskel about. He enjoyed these times too, but the moments he treasured the most were the ones in which you were touching him. He always liked to have some part of him touching you. Sometimes it would be as simple as his hand holding yours or his knee brushing yours under the table. You realized quickly this was his love language and you fervently catered to it.

The silence was broken with the rumble of his chest as he began to speak. Speech only slightly slurred, you were sure he didn’t notice.

“You know, I’ve fallen in love with you so many times, y/n. So many. Maybe even the first time I saw you. Yes. Oh! Definitely the first time we slept together. You are so beautiful, I think you are so beautiful. You know that?” 

“Yes love, I know. You kept staring at me like you’d never seen a woman before.” You loved tipsy Eskel. It brought out the romantic in him. Well, the wine, and the letters.

“Pshhh. I’ve seen plenty.”

You tried your best to hide your giggle, the wine made it a little hard.

“Oh, that I know as well. Which makes it even sweeter.”

“Pfff. Sweet. I’m a witcher remember?” He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes slightly glazed.

“Oh sure. Big tough scary man can’t be sweet. I should have remembered.”

He let out a huff and let his head fall back onto the blanket.

“Rude.”

[cosmos-coma]

A Gift from Above - Part 6

A/N: Part 6! This is a darker chapter than the others, so if you're at all concerned, please read the warnings, and if you need to skip it read the detailed summary.

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: (semi- graphic) physical torture, violence (canon-typical), Near-death situations,

Word count: 2.4 K

Summary: You have finally gotten to the town of Mender's where the General has set you up in the abandoned mage's home. Because of your defiance and inability to give him the godly army he wants he decides to torture you to push your magic to do what he wants. Having lost all hope you decide to take everyone out in a bang that almost kills you in the process.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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Your cart pulled up to a smooth stop around what you guessed was just before midday. You heard many people beginning to move about outside your walls and the clanking of armor on a few men. The doors of your enclosure opened and you physically recoiled, squeezing your eyes shut against the light of the sun. “Ahh..” you gasped out.

As you squinted into the bright light of the day multiple soldiers transported you inside, re-chaining you to new metal spikes laid out just before a balcony, with a view of a large clearing below. They had you positioned on your knees and put the shackle adorning your neck on a short chain that forced you to bow in false respect for whatever stood before you. Your wrists were bound back and away from your body, forcing you to be open and vulnerable from all sides.

You looked around as best you could with your head bowed. You were in a spacious area connected to a tower that stood in the corner behind you. You could hear the soldiers moving things up and down the tower steps, most likely unloading their carts. There were old tapestries on the wall and the corners lined with bookshelves that had long been looted or destroyed. An old fireplace crackled with life as they added new logs and relit it, the flames causing shadows to dance around on the walls. When your eyes fully adjusted you could see a town a short ways out with people going about their business, oblivious to the horrors soon to take place here.

Opening your mouth to call out to whoever may hear you, your voice got caught in your throat and instead came out in a pained shout as the General stepped his whole weight on your foot. “Ah, ah, my little Healer… No one will come for you no matter what they hear.” he said and finally took his foot away. “The people here are already too wary about the legends of this tower that no one dares to investigate. They’d just consider you confirmation of their village lore...” He continued and walked around to the front of you, smirking in twisted pleasure as he looked down at your form, forced to bow before him.

You heard a soldier rush his way inside and stop as he addressed the General. “We should be ready momentarily, Sir….”

Gazing upward you saw the General grinning from ear to ear like a hyena. His shining moment had finally come. “Excellent… have the men ready in the courtyard to greet our new brothers in arms while I take care of work in here.”

You heard the soldier's feet hitting the stone floor as he ran off to relay orders and your stomach started to turn as you realized that this really was happening, there was no way out of it now, no one had come for you in time.

He grabbed your face in his hands as he crouched down to your level, holding your jaw firm enough that you couldn’t turn away. “So, what will it be, my little Healer? Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

You had wondered if your whole world lead up to this moment, your whole life set up so that you may die at the hands of this monster? Did your gods know that this is how it would end when they sent you Eskel? Was he meant to be a happiness that made the end worth it all?

You fought back the tears in your eyes that threatened to pool at the thought of your beloved Witcher. This may be how your story ended, but you would ensure you didn’t go calmly. Eskel wouldn’t want you to.

You pulled your expression into a taught one of silent defiance, and spit directly on his face.

Without a word and with a slow hand he wiped it off his cheek before swiftly slapping you across the face. The stinging in your cheek and the inevitable bruise you may not live to see were well worth it to show him his true place in your eyes.

“I see. Then let’s start with the exceptionally hard way and we’ll see how you feel.” he spoke, his words laced with restraint and calmness as he stood and walked out of sight to prepare.

You smiled a touch to yourself, the first smile you let grace your lips in what felt like forever. Your lips cracked and hurt as you pulled them into your expression, but it was worth it, almost anything felt worth it if it made it difficult for the general to get his way.

“Now…” the general said, from behind you. You could hear the logs on the fire shifting and the sound of metal scraping against stone as his steps came closer. “I understand you have some hesitations in doing as I ask.” You felt him grab the back of your dress and draw his knife down it, jaggedly cutting and tearing it from the nape of your neck to the end of your spine. He let go when he finished and your dress draped loosely around you, kept up only by your sleeves and freely opening your naked back and sides to him. “... But let me see if I can persuade you to see my point of view….”

You felt humiliated and exposed under your current state, but the feeling did not last long as a searing hot pain lay itself on your shoulder. Though your scream filled the room it seemed you couldn’t drown out the way your skin sizzled and popped under the glowing hot fire poker he now held. Tears openly ran down your cheeks now and you didn’t bother to stop them.

“How do you feel about my proposition now, Healer…?” he asked and you could feel the heat of the poker nearing your skin again.

“I-I can’t..!” you yelled once your voice came back to your throat.

“Can’t? Or Won't…?” he questioned, with far too much pleasure In his voice, as he laid the poker on your skin again.

Your scream echoed through the halls and you began to silently hope that this would be over sooner rather than later.

But you know you hoped for naught as again he brought the poker close.

As you screamed and attempted to recoil in on yourself you felt heat pooling in your chest and your magic building up in response to your pain. You weren’t sure if they had switched out your dimiterium bonds for something less, but your chains did not resist you now. There was no noticeable icy pain that shot through your limbs as the waves of magic rushed in and pooled with every inch of searing flesh. Though your mind was clouded with a haze of pain and fear at the next touch you began to form remnants of an idea and what would be your last stand.

```

Eskel got the group moving as early as they could. As soon as Geralt got Ciri up and she was on her horse they made a fast track to Menders, racing through every town there and in between.

Eskel knew that they were getting close and his stomach dropped when he heard your screams echo through the valley. His hands white-knuckled the reins as your screams just kept coming, unrelenting and consumed with pain. He was so lost in your sounds that he almost missed the bugle of a horn and an arrow whizzing past him from the trees before them.

The tower of the mage’s home had finally come into view and a few armed men came out of the tree line to engage them. They made quick work of the first few men, Ciri even deflecting her first arrow. However, as they rode closer there were dozens more men surrounding the formerly abandoned home.

Eskel hopped off of Scorpion as the soldiers began coming towards them, as well as Geralt to his own horse, standing beside his brother in arms. Ciri stayed on her horse and in the back, mostly out of the way with her sword drawn just in case. With a nod to his brother Eskel and Geralt went headfirst into the fray, the sounds of soldiers and screams only driving them forward as Eskel became consumed hot anger.

```

You were under the Generals searing “persuasion” for what felt like a lifetime. The reservoir of your magic pooling in your body was more than you had ever channeled. Usually the pain would grow to be too much, but this time you had another pain to pull your mind away whenever you felt like you would burst.

You could barely hear, let alone register the fighting that went on outside. Your chest burned with the heat of a hundred suns and you thought your skin would soon start to bubble if you held it in any longer. The floors began to quake beneath you, cracking and splitting in hairline fractures.

“Thats it…” said the General in an almost praising manner, mistaking your barely controlled contempt for him as the beginnings of his wish. “You just need a final push, it seems…”

The General grabbed a new poker that had been resting in the fire, as the previous one grew too cold for his liking. Instead of laying the poker on your skin, he had grown impatient and wished to push you over the edge in one fail swoop. So slowly but firmly he pressed the point of the glowing rod into your back, burning your skin away and digging into your flesh.

You knew it was time as you let out the most unholy scream, rattling the stone walls around you. You channeled the swirling magma of your magic through your legs and into the ground, no thought associated with the power, no restraint. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your magic poured into the earth. From it, large jagged rocks like those from an impact crater shot out of the ground in a circle around you, extending into the battlefield and even the town below.

```

Everyone fighting on the field of battle before the house had stopped upon hearing a scream unlike the other ones, even Geralt and Eskel. Eskel was about to shoot forward towards your cry, past the men they were fighting, when jagged rocks, taller than any man or beast shot out of the ground before him. Barely missing him and his brother. Many of the soldiers they had been fighting were now either laid out on the ground, unmoving, or skewered upon the rocks that burst forth. And like that the screams had stopped and all was silent.

“Y/N!” Eskel shouted as Ciri ran up to them, tears streaming down her face with all she’s seen, done, and heard.

The group quickly made their way through the rough terrain, using aard to clear a path and came into the abandoned home. The walls now being supported by the lengths of ground that protruded through them.

When they came into the house they witnessed you at the center of this crater like impact, with the General that Eskel recognized from his dream still standing over you. He was beaten and worn, but still standing, having been close enough to you that he didn't get the brunt of the earthly spikes you put forth. But his eyes were drawn more to your slumped figure, curled on your side and barely moving, even for breath.

Eskel heard the General start to speak and move closer to you. He barely knew what happened next as blind rage overtook him once more.

```

Your eyes were clouded with the dust that sprang forth from the results of your magic and you fell forward, laying on your side as you curled around yourself in pain, the chains holding your arms now freed from their metal stakes.

Your chest still burned hot, worse than all the marks now adorning your back and became inflamed with every movement and breath you took.

“I guess I was wrong…” the General coughed out as he took steps towards you. “I didn’t need an army to fight for me.. I just needed a weapon like you…”

You grimaced at the sound of him, the one man you wished to do away with had survived your last act. But as your strength waned and your body began pulling you deeper into the black of unconsciousness you heard the unmistakable sound of a sword going through flesh.

The General’s severed head bounced and rolled into your fading view as his body thumped to the ground out of sight. A look of fear was immortalized on his face and you couldn’t have asked for a more fitting end for the man.

You let out a small whimper as invisible hands grabbed you with a sense of care that you had so missed. You breathed shallowly as you were held and turned to meet the face of your savior. You couldn’t help but smile, your dry lips splitting with the force of it, when you saw golden yellow eyes above you, framed on one side by long etching scars.

“Esk..” you squeaked out, your voice almost completely gone from the screams preceding this. Your muscles fought you with everything they had, but you slowly reached up to touch his face, making sure he was real.

“You found me…” you whispered, smiling softly as you finally succumbed to the black encroaching your vision.

```

“Y/n...?” Eskel murmured and rested his hand over yours as it started going limp against his cheek. “Y/n…?” he tried again as his eyes grew wet, though no tears fell. His memory rang with one of the first things you had said about your magic:

‘I’ve never used as much as I could, I don’t know if it's even something I could survive…’

Geralt came over with Ciri and touched his shoulder as he clung to you desperately, nose buried in your hair to soak up your scent once more. Eskel yelled and screamed at the gods you worshiped for letting this be done to you, for taking away the one being who seemed to really love him. When Eskel's muscles slackened a bit, the anger and will to fight now gone, the group sat quietly in the aftermath.

“Wait..” Geralt interrupted after a moment. “Eskel, listen….”

badum…

Softly, even to a Witcher's ears, they heard it again.

badum…

The quiet and gentle beat of your heart.

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