Eskel Blurbs 2

AN/// Here’s another one. Some people seemed to like the other, so here I am! Check out my masterlist, I’ve written quite a few full fics for Witcher, so check them out : )

Part 1 – Eskel Blurbs

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–X—-

People bustled about outside of the inn, muted footsteps tuned out over an hour ago. bodies littered few and far between below the Witcher’s shared room, none coming near the room itself. Overall, it was quite peaceful. His muscles worked through a familiar pattern, the mindless moving of the whetstone adding to the calm. The wolf’s companion had set out through the market before he had started, and only recently did he finally reacclimate to being alone. For a split moment, minutes after the healer had left, the Witcher turned to empty air after expecting a reply.

It was a shocking realization. With all of his heightened senses, noting objects and people around him was easier than breathing. Eskel had simply… expectedY/n to be there. He was quick to turn to sword repair, as the chore would be a great distraction from the embarrassing moment.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the clock, Y/n being one to take her time shopping. Months ago, when she had first suggested to go to market alone, he was silently thrilled. The Witcher hated the feeling of lingering eyes and unjust anger. Though, that relief was accompanied by fear after remembering how dangerous large city markets can be.

Y/n, however, is a grown adult. Eskel had no right or claim to her, and the Witcher constantly scolded himself for thinking otherwise. There was no reason to have his thoughts linger on her absence. Sure, they’ve traveled together for over half a year, but that doesn’t mean much to most. Even if it meant the world to him.

Eskel felt his heartbeat pick up just a fraction as he recognized the footsteps that ascended the stairs. His eyes darted around the room looking for anything that might make him seem ‘interesting’ before shocking himself out of that line of thinking. Look interesting? Oh, sweet Melitele. This was somehow a new low in the Witcher’s mind. That was something Lambertwould think. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of being his younger brother before looking to his hands. He was a monster killing mutant who was sharpening a sword, he should already seem interesting!

The key was loud as it unlocked the door, and a firm kick pushed the door open. As the wolf watched, he was surprised she even unlocked the door with how full her hands were. The healer had emptied her bag to shove their large share of dirty laundry instead. Eskel could tell from the soft smell that the large bag on her shoulder’s was filled with finally clean clothes. A thin potato sack turned bag was bursting at the seams. Wrapped hard jerky was somewhere between some books towards the bottom, and glass vials on top. Other vegetables packed in around those items, the pressure just enough to keep everything in the sack ‘just so’. In her hands, Eskel’s steel sword, as well as some other just repaired weapons. It wasn’t until she fully stepped into the room that the Witcher noticed familiar ingredients gently laying in a gathering basket hanging from her other arm.

Healing was a difficult profession, and few can reach a level such as Y/n. The wolf was aware of her healing talents, which was the exact reason why he asked for her assistance all those months ago. Life has been long for the Witcher, but he was sure that despite Y/n’s shorter time, there was much to learn about her. So, for her to walk in with elixir ingredients, he was a bit taken back. He wasn’t sure how much Witcher information his brothers have divulged to others, but Eskel hadn’t said a word. He supposed he was the best out of all of them that could keep a secret, though he also suspected the scars helped. If no one comes to you for information, who do you have to tell?

“Market was packed. I’m glad we checked in on the smithy yesterday.” Slit-pupil eyes tracked every movement she made. Everything was set down and organized in a gentle manner as she prattled on about said market. By the time she was settled on the floor, she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the ingredients. With Y/n on the floor, the bed sat between them, and allowed Eskel to look around freely without suspicion. The basket laid gently by his bag that lay by the wardrobe. For a moment, he thought the items were just a coincidence. Y/n is a healer and is currently sitting on the floor refilling her own supplies. She never once makes a move towards it.

After a long mental debate, Eskel tries to get up as nonchalant as possible. His mouth feels somewhat dry, and his swallow is almost audible. As he spoke, he mechanically put away his things,

“Do you need anything from this basket?” Her head popped up like a prairie dog from the ground. Bright eyes shined in the bright orange light pouring from the window behind him. A small, calm smile was offered to him.

“No thanks. I saw that you were low on some things.” Y/n’s head slowly sunk back behind the bed before it shot up again, eyes this time widened by embarrassment. “Not that I look through your things!” A weird, humorless laugh puttered out at the end. She waved in the general direction of his armor, eyes flying back to whatever she was doing on the floor before popping back again. “I noticed that when you’re low on supplies, you don’t refill your pouch right away.”

The reason she knew why it was low this time was a painful one. Wights were old and rare, curses and hate bringing them to live. It had been powerful, feeding off large bears and elk for years. As well as any passer by unfortunate enough to be so far into the woods. To say he had received everything he gave was an understatement. The Witcher struggled to get back to Scorpion, let alone camp. It was only after the healer came to find him that he made it to safety. Eskel knew she would come somehow, and he counted his lucky stars she was suspicious. In any other case, he most likely would have tried to lecture her, as if he failed, she could have been hurt. In the end, he figured a simple ‘thank you’ would suffice. Y/n seamlessly peeled his armor off him that night, a few other close calls before giving her plenty of practice.

“I just guessed at what you needed, but I’m almost certain I got most things right. Maybe not with quantities, but it’s great quality. I can always run back in the morning before we leave.” Another smile was given to him before she disappeared again. The Witcher could tell she was cooking something with the small alchemy pot they had. Whatever it was, it smelled to be a very potent liquid. Eskel nodded to the open air, puckering his lips in thought for just a moment. He turned to the window as though the now setting sun would give him some answers. A hand came up, thumb brushing under his chin. It slowly slid up, so far, fingertips avoiding all scar tissue. Slowly, but less so gently, they scrubbed over the surface of his cheek, fingers barely getting caught by the unevenness. It stopped for a moment as he thought. His eyes traveled down to his bag, then back to the sun. When he came to, his fingers too resumed, though dropped quickly back to his side.

The Witcher had to dig to the bottom of the bag as he made up his mind. Despite remembering most things in life, Eskel made mistakes. That is exactly why he keeps a small, short-hand guide to all potions, essences, and bombs he has ever learned. When he finally found purchase on the pocket-sized book, he pulled, lucky that most things stayed in his bag.

The wolf moved as gently as possible around the bed, an entire little operation in front of him. When he knew he caught the woman’s eye, he flashed the book quickly before setting it down. It was at the edge of the workspace, almost like an offering made to an altar. Despite trying to pour hot liquid into one of their beakers, it seemed like her entire attention was on him. Though, that’s what it always felt like to him.

“We’re not supposed to hand these out, so…” Eskel tapered off. Why did he say it like that? “I mean, if anyone were to be trusted with Witcher secrets… It’s a book of my elixirs, and I thought maybe you’d want to look sometime.” By the time he was done, and he calmed himself from stumbling thoughts, he truly looked at her. What she was doing was discarded to the side. The healer listened intently, a look as if a great responsibility is now bestowed upon her. She gives a curt nod, tone firm and confident.

“I’ll keep it safe.” Her hand reached, grabbing onto it with such care, and it reminded Eskel of how she touches him. Small brushes to the hand here or there. The soft pressure while giving stiches or the gentle manhandling she’s capable of when helping him out of armor. Eskel tried to form the softest smile he could muster as they made eye contact.

“Thank you for the supplies.” He disengaged, but as he looked away, he could see the forming of a blush. It almost made him do a double take, just to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. What was the Witcher thinking? Of course his eyes were playing tricks on him.

—X—

“Women love me, okay.”

The woman’s lips pursed as she slowly left the room. Her eyes were wide, and brows raised in suspicion. Eskel tried to hide his smile, but any fraction of one becomes obvious with the cleft. He shifts over from his spot on the wall to standing next to his younger brother. A large hand reaches, clasping Lambert’s shoulder lovingly.

“It’s not love if you pay for it, bud.” Lambert ripped his shoulder from his brother’s grasp. His lips pulled back to a sneer, and a glare was thrown at the older wolf. Yellow freckled eyes traveled back to the hesitating figure in the doorway, Y/n waiting with a smirk. The healer slipped from the doorway to the corridor without closing the door.

Rage boiled, and Lambert’s finger jabbed the air, pointing to where the human just was. With his finger still raised, somewhat wagging disapprovingly, he stomped to the old oak. Once the door was within arm’s reach, he slammed it shut. The spry man turned, finger now pointing at his brother.

“You keep her in line.” During the stomping, Eskel took a seat on the chest at the edge of the bed. Eskel looked up, raising his hands up in defense. Lambert scoffed, rolling his eyes. He opened the door wide, hand waving to it. “I don’t want you here either.”

A deep rumble floated from the seated Witcher, and slowly came to a crescendo, head lolling back due to laughter.

-X—-

“Months?” The healer’s voice was soft but congested. Winter was fast approaching, and the Witcher was just now dropping the news. He had waited until one of the last major cities before mentioning anything. Or rather, instead of waiting, he has only now found the courage. Eskel could look mothers in the eye to present passing of children or lonely spouses their lover’s body had turned up. For this, the Witcher looked everywhere but her eyes.

He could practically smell the sadness wafting from her. Despite what had grown between them over the year they’ve traveled together, he didn’t think he had any right to bring her to the fort. The tall adult nodded, head hung almost in shame.

“I’m not the only one, and I never had the opportunity to ask.” It was a lie pure and simple. Sure, he didn’t ask, but he was certain that if he did, they’d say no anyways. Despite being a fragile human in a den of Witchers, there are still many risks. Eskel trusts her, and that would mean a lot, but he needs to make sure of things first. Why does she really stay by his side? Looks, money, fame? Just the thought makes him cringe. He was a mutant with nothing. Why is she here?