“You have friends?” Geralt grumbled, leaning back in the shade.

Jaskier scoffed. “Well, of course I have friends.”

“That you don’t sleep with?”

“Now, I never said that-“

“Pankratz!” A young man with bright auburn curls strode over to them, clapping Jaskier heartily on the shoulder. “Been a time.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, though a fond smirk played on his lips. “Valdo. I’ve heard time is relative, though honestly, it’s no relation of mine. It seems far too soon since we’ve crossed paths last.”

As the two bards happily crossed barbs back and forth, Geralt furrowed his brow at a familiar scent on the air. Honey, mulling spices, silver.

The scars on Eskel’s cheek warped as he smiled, and Geralt surged forward to meet him halfway into a bone-crushing hug. “‘Lo, Wolf. You look well.”

Geralt chuckled and pulled back, unable to help the soft smile from breaking over his lips. “Eskel. What brings you to the bardic festival?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, “That one.” He pointed to Valdo, still bickering with Jaskier and playing with the long feather on the latter’s flouncy hat.

Geralt cocked his brow and Eskel shrugged, their golden eyes flitting back and forth between the two bards. “I can’t tell if Jaskier actually likes him or not.”

“‘Course he does, they’ve known each other for ages,” Eskel cleared his throat and leaned back next to Geralt on the wall. “Valdo wouldn’t shut up about him on our way here.”

“Sounds familiar,” Geralt groused, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence as their companions reacquainted themselves with each other. That is, until a new wave of shimmery golden hair marched its way between the two bards, a lute strung over her back as well.

“Oh no no no, I think the fuck not,” she hissed through her teeth, shoving her pointer finger just shy of Valdo’s nose, “I’ll not have you making those lovey eyes at him after the last time we were all together.”

Jaskier laughed and rested his hand lightly on the woman’s shoulder. “Essi, relax. All’s well. I promise you. But I shall find you if I fear for my honor, or my bollo-“

“With all due respect, which truly should be none after you’ve accosted me so severely,” Valdo rolled his eyes, “it is good to see you here as well, darling.”

The young woman, Essi, apparently, stepped aside and wrapped her arms around both Jaskier and Valdo. “I’ve missed you both terribly, even if you two are royal pains in my ass.”

Geralt shook his head just as Eskel perked up. “What the-“

Then it hit him. Pine, sea salt, silver.

“Son of a bitch,” a raspy voice called over, and Geralt could practically hear the cock-sure smirk on his face. Eskel pushed himself away from the wall and over towards the newcomer, tall and lean with dark slicked back hair, two swords strewn over his back.

“Lambert! Never thought I’d see your sorry face at a place like this,” Eskel hugged him, patting him hard on the back.

“Alright big guy,” Lambert gave him a solid squeeze before waving to Geralt, “fancy running into the two of you here.”

“Let me guess,” Geralt sighed, “she’s your bard?”

Lambert nodded and rested his hands on his hips. “Yup. Met her a while back, been traveling together whenever we can for a few weeks at a time. She’s fun. Bit odd, but hey. So’s yours.”

Geralt hummed and Eskel laughed, now all intently watching the three bards smile and tease at each other with the ease of ages behind them.

“Would it be terribly narcissistic to quote myself?” Essi adjusted the top button of Valdo’s doublet, her fingers just barely ghosting over his skin. “For I feel certain that I said that you should wear sage more often. And here we are, with you looking like a carrot.”

Valdo gasped, “How dare! Just because I have red hair-“

“No, you nincompoop,” Jaskier tutted, playing idly with a ringlet of Essi’s hair, “she’s saying your doublet’s a brighter orange than the citrus in Toussaint.”

“Ah.” Valdo rocked back on his heels and looked around sheepishly, spotting the three Witchers off to the side. Geralt groaned internally, knowing exactly what was coming next. “Oh come on over here, I couldn’t imagine not spending this festival with us.”

Formal introductions were made before the bards whisked off towards the performance stage, followed leisurely by the Witchers as they found a spot to sit in the shade beneath a great tree. Essi strode onto the stage, her dress swirling ethereally around her ankles, and began to play a quiet, soft tune to warm her audience up.

“So,” Geralt hummed to Lambert, “How’s she been travelling?”

“She’s been great. She really can take care of herself, and like I said. Bards are fun.”

Eskel smirked and shouldered Geralt, “Oh yeah. Real fun, until they sleep with the alderman’s brother. Or wife. Or both.”