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 justperfectly 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 thatis 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.”