monstrocities

"I'm glad that it wasn't worse," Geralt admits. "And don't hide something like this again, Esk." If it happens again, it could be Eskel's last monster, and that's not something he wants to think about. If it's magical in nature, it will be difficult to heal. Eskel may very well be trapped at the keep for the next year if they don't figure something out.

With the mention of Jaskier, Geralt huffs out a breath, the best approximation to a laugh that he ever exhales. "It is, that," he agrees. Geralt finishes wrapping Eskel up and then pats his good shoulder. "I don't know if the old man has mentioned, but your Leshen... there's something strange about it. There have been rumours of monsters long extinct returning." They've been listening for rumours about the situation, but Geralt plans to go looking for these monsters, once they leave the keep.

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"I knew it wasn't normal." Eskel says, a little bitterness creeping into his voice as he gets settled again. "Leshen's are difficult, yeah, but I should have been able to put one down just fine." His command of signs is second to none, not even Coën, the Griffin School witcher living here. A few blasts from Eskel's Igni should have incapacitated such a creature but it was as if it had been skinned in stone, like the wood had petrified somehow.

"Do you think we're close to another Conjunction? That could be bad, not a lot of us left to deal with an influx of monsters." Humans had grown too comfortable since they had created witchers to deal with the off-world incursions and magical disturbances that came from this world passing to close in space and time to another. They burned, hanged, drowned and beheaded their best chances at survival every time there was a nonhuman panic or religious fervor until there were almost no witchers left. "Though if I miss out on a fat busy season's coinpurse because the old man wants to keep me here until next winter, I'll be pissed." He thinks of shiny new armor and horse races and beautiful women and staggeringly potent Toussaintois absinthe.

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Geralt listens closely to what Eskel is saying. It makes sense. Geralt knows how Eskel fights, and he should have easily been able to put the Leshen down. This one though, there's something strange going on. They'll have to figure it out soon, especially with so few of them left.

"We can make more, now," Geralt tells him as he settles Eskel comfortably on the bed. "Ciri's blood. Elder blood. I caught her convincing Vesemir into making her one, and stopped it. It won't be fast enough if a Conjunction is approaching, but the possibility is there." Geralt isn't so sure that it is a Conjunction, but he is sure that Ciri has something to do with it.

"Eskel, where was the Leshen?" he asks curiously. Now that Yenn has her chaos back, he can go looking, even if it does mean using portals.

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"What?" Eskel's pale yellow eyes widen and he half sits up again. "What do you mean?" He can only imagine how Lambert, the most bitterly angry of all of them about his being taken from his parents to be raised a witcher, feels about this. He's probably missing a lot of awkward dinners, staying up in his room like he's been doing. Or everyone in this keep is playing close to the chest with their respective secrets.

He feels conflicted about it himself: Theirs is a life he has made his peace with, but would not wish on any child.

He blinks as if Geralt's question has just caught up with him, too far away in his own thoughts for a moment.

"Not far from here, actually. I don't think my body would have made it if I had been too far from the keep. Four hours due south on foot maybe?"

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"It's been... a point of contention. Merigold is testing it, seeing if she can come up with a way to determine someone will survive the mutagens." Geralt isn't sure how he feels about it. He believes that the world needs Witchers, or at least something approximating them, but he doesn't believe that children should be taken from their families, through the law of surprise, or through being sold, or anything like that. He wishes there was a way for a child to consent, but there is no way to express the horrors of their life on someone so young. "I don't know if it's a good idea."

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him and nods. If it's that close, then perhaps Geralt isn't running the killer after all. With that decision made, Geralt moves to begin to undo the laces of Eskel's breeches. "Can't let the bard have all the fun."

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Geralt's hands on his laces shakes him out of his distraction and he laughs.

"You better be quick, I imagine he'll be back any minute, impatient for his turn." Eskel shakes his head, still baffled by the bard's enthusiasm. Confused, but not complaining.

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"I'm sure you'll both be so disappointed if he interrupts," Geralt murmurs. He fishes Eskel out and pumps his cock a few times.

Once he's hard, Geralt wastes no time before dropping his head down and taking Eskel's prick into his mouth.

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Eskel groans, fingers curling in the back of Geralt's shirt. He feels a surge of emotion as well as pleasure and a deep shiver runs through his weary body. He sighs the other witcher's name.

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Geralt and Eskel have spent many a winter just like this, so Geralt knows how to work Eskel's body. It's always so interesting to Geralt because as far as he knows, Eskel mostly beds women while on the Path, but will settle for Geralt, and now Jaskier now that he doesn't have other options. Geralt himself has never been discerning between the two genders, taking what he could get.

He relaxes his throat for Eskel, taking hi min further. It's a shame that Eskel can't fully participate, but hopefully by the end of the winter they'll have the opportunity.

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Maybe out on The Path, it's settling when he beds a man but it's never settling with Geralt. It's true, he does prefer women but Geralt has always been and will always be something special to him. And this, right now? Was something he'd been afraid he wouldn't get back after how things had been between them this winter. Sleeping beside Geralt last night had only sharpened this need for nostalgic intimacy more acutely, a dull ache in Eskel's chest (and lower, less noble parts).

There's just something so familiar about stealing a moment like this that it's a wholly different experience to when he goes with women in the world below the mountains. And he has to hold onto the thought that somebody they'll be able to enjoy each other as they once did, without having to be as careful due to Eskel's lingering injuries. He'd give anything to be able to have the other witcher properly, quick and and breathless and bruising.

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They are on limited time, stealing this moment together. Geralt is due out for training, and Jaskier is bound to return shortly. As much as Geralt is happy to share with Jaskier, he wants to keep this one moment to himself. With that in mind, he swirls his tongue around the head of Eskel's cock, then takes him fully into his mouth. He grips Eskel's thighs, relaxes his throat and takes him all the way in.

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{{I'm of two minds: on the one hand it would be exceedingly funny. On the other, this is a very lovely moment of just the two of them. Up to you!}}

Eskel's hips jerk when Geralt swallows him all the way down. He clings to the back of Geralt's shirt until his hand is white-knuckled. He doesn't make the other man wait long, coming with a telltale growl, turning the side of his face into the pillow as he does.

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Geralt swallows when Eskel spills in his mouth, squeezing his hip before pulling off and licking him clean. When he finishes, he shoots Eskel an affectionate look and says, "now you need to heal. I miss bedding someone that can match me in strength."

He stands then, tucks Eskel back into his breeches, just as he hears Jaskier coming back down the hall. "Bard's coming," he says just as there's a soft knock at the door before it opens.

Jaskier comes in, warm water in a steel bucket so that he can help Eskel get clean. He looks between the two of them and arches an eyebrow. "Well, I see I've been left out of the fun."

"I'll see you both later," Geralt tells them. Jaskier catches his arm before he can exit and the bard pulls him down for a soft, sweet kiss. It's good to know that he'd been forgiven.

"Take care," Jaskier says, and then Geralt heads out.

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Eskel has the decency to look a little sheepish, sure that the way he's flushed and breathing with unmistakable, if mild exertion.

"Have fun running The Killer!" He calls teasingly after his brother in arms before the door closes and he's alone with the bard again.

"Old habits, couldn't keep our hands to ourselves." He says to Jaskier, careful to breeze past exactly how much that brief intimacy had meant.

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Jaskier flaps his hand, unconcerned that the two Witchers have made up in such a physical way. He's not exactly concerned about them wearing each other out so much that they won't want him. He's known Geralt long enough to know that's not to case. Both Geralt and Eskel will have more than enough energy for him, whenever he chooses he wants it.

"I can't blame either of you for that, now can I?" Jaskier chuckles. "I just wish I hadn't missed the show."

He dips a new, clean rag into the hot water. "Now, are you ready for a sexy sponge bath, or do you need a moment to recover?"

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"Well, you both seem intent on keeping me from my own bed while I'm laid up, I'm sure you'll have other opportunities." Eskel says, tucking an arm behind his head.

"Is the water warm? Shouldn't wait for it to get cold, so you can start whenever you like. Geralt fixed my bandages so you don't have to worry about that part." He promises. "And if it's cold, hand it here." He reaches out his hand.

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"Well Eskel, as much as Geralt does not enjoy talking, I already know so much about you that I felt I knew you before even arriving here at Kaer Morhen. You should know more than anyone that once Geralt is sated, he's much more talkative. I had no doubt that the two of you would resolve whatever it was between you, and you would end up here, or he in your room. I was not aware of your injury when I first arrived, however, or else I believe you would have been in Geralt's bed a lot sooner."

He smiles sweetly at the injured Witcher as he speaks, starting to was the sweat and grime from being unable to move too easily. "Perhaps we can get a bath up here sometime soon," he adds.

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Eskel, accustomed to keeping himself meticulously clean on The Path (to avoid being detected by his dangerous prey), does have to admit that having someone to help him like this is...well, its mildly embarrassing but its also nice. And better Jaskier than Vesemir or Triss Merigold. That the bard's clever fingers linger here and there is a delightful bonus that he's perfectly content to indulge.

"I'll try not to be here all the time." He promises. "At some point I'll haul myself back to my room. But not right now." He offers a lopsided grin.

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Jaskier does a more thorough job at cleaning Eksel up this time around, using soap and water instead of just the cool water he'd had to use the day before. As he's wiping Eskel down, he says, "I have Geralt on the Path all the time. You only get him if you happen upon each other or during your winters here. And with Ciri, that may all change. I don't mind you being here, Eskel."

There's no telling what will happen in the future for any of them, and Jaskier doesn't begrudge Eskel for wanting to spend time with Geralt before they part once the season ends.

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"See, you say that but the bed's gonna get awfully small with me in it." He says, amused. "It's barely made for two people. I did sleep better last night than I have in a while so...thank you."

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"Easily remedied, my dear. I'll just sleep on top of Geralt," Jaskier says with a grin. It's not like he doesn't usually sleep on top of or under him most nights. "I'm not going to force you out, Eskel, so this is entirely up to you. If you and Geralt want time alone too, I can actually find my own room, or try to convince Lambert to bed me," he laughs.

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"I'll bet you a bottle of dwarven whiskey straight from the stills below Mount Carbon that you will not manage your charms with Lambchop. He's too prickly." Eskel says, always eager to make a wager. "You'd have better luck with Coën. He's pretty straight but like me he probably hasn't had much luck on account of his face. And he's probably more lonely and out of his depth than Lambert. Didn't grow up here."

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"He may be prickly, but does he sleep with men?" If he doesn't, then Jaskier doesn't have any chance. If he does, then Jaskier is more than happy to try. If Lambert isn't interested, well Jaskier still has Geralt and now Eskel, so it't not like he's lacking in bed partners, just in variety.

Coen is an interesting suggestion, however.

Jaskier isn't going to go anywhere near the sorceresses. That seems like it would be far too much drama for him.

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"Not as far as I know. But we were in different cohorts. If he was fooling around in his own novice group, I never heard about it. Haven't heard about him going with men on the Path either." Eskel shrugs. "Try your luck but don't say I didn't warn you." He watches Jaskier from under the edge of his eyelids.

"Will you sit with me a while?" He asks. "When you're done with the bath, I mean."

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