#pre-negotiation

He found Eskel broken and half dead on the side of the road barely half a mile away. His body was obscured by some thick foliage and his trademark red gambeson was so heavily damaged that it couldn’t be seen from the path. Something had taken its pound of flesh - monster, human, it was hard to tell - and blood pooled beneath him, his breathing shallow.

He shouldn’t still be this far south. They were barely two miles outside Beauclair and the first snows were due in the north any day. There was no possibility that Eskel would reach the foot of the Blue Mountains and ascend the Witcher’s trail to Kaer Morhen before it was buried in several feet of snow and ice. Letho crouched down by his side, pleased when Eskel jolted in response; not all of his faculties had faded. “Got yourself into a bit of a mess here, wolf.”

“Mm,” Eskel opened his eyes and stared up at what must be a rough, hazy outline. “Letho?”

“One and the same,” the Viper responded, only for Eskel to fall unconscious seconds later. It was simple enough to pluck the wolf from the floor and drape him across the saddle of his loyal steed. Letho led Scorpion back towards the village by the reins, glancing back only occasionally to check that Eskel was still alive. 

Once they were safely sequestered away in an inn room, Letho stripped Eskel bare and tended to each of his wounds. A deep cut in his bicep, another across his chest - they were too clean, definitely steel - and some claw marks in his ribs. A hunt gone wrong then? A betrayal? Letho sewed him up, wrapped clean bandages around his arm and torso from his own kit, and then settled in to supervise. They were deep, and Eskel was probably exhausted. The last hunt of the season and it’d nearly killed him.

A few hours in Eskel stirred and accepted a sip of Swallow. He wasn’t strong enough to take an entire serving and Letho eased him back onto the poorly stuffed pillows once a few drops hit his tongue. His skin bleached ashen grey, dark veins appearing briefly up his neck, before his body worked through the toxicity to the helpful ingredients.

Morning crept up on them slowly. Letho spent the majority of the night in meditation, surfacing occasionally to check that Eskel was warm and alive. His skin had been the colour and temperature of marble in the woodlands, but now it was back to a shade close to its normal honey hue. The heat would return more slowly. When those amber eyes flickered open, squinting at the ceiling, Letho leaned forward and waited for his patient to surface properly.

Eskel growled in discomfort. “Where am I?”

“In a bed,” Letho answered unhelpfully, paying more attention to the minute facial twitches and the ripple of tense pain that passed down Eskel’s body. “Get on the wrong side of something with claws or shady morals?”

“Bit of both,” Eskel sat up slowly and felt the mattress dip as Letho sat on the edge, one thick arm sliding around his back. “Look, I’m fine, I - ahh.” He hissed as Letho pressed gently into his side.

“No, you ain’t,” the viper spoke softly and Eskel was surprised by the tender palm that brushed over his head, fingers nursing through the knots of his matted hair. “You’re miles from home, it’s nearly winter an’ you were about to bleed out on the side of a road.” 

“Anyone’d think you were worried about me, Letho,” Eskel grated, trying to wriggle out of Letho’s arms only to feel one of those big palms sweep around his side again. The pressure was more careful and the warmth bloomed through his chest. “Thank you… for not leaving me to die.”

“Never would, wolf,” he cupped Eskel’s jaw and tilted his head up, examining those soft eyes with interest. “You’re not goin’ to make it home in time.”

“No. I’ll have to bed down somewhere in Beauclair. Always a nobleman looking for an extra bodyguard against a vampire,” Eskel sighed.

“Nah, you’re comin’ with me,” Letho released his wolf and left the bed. “To Gorthur Gvaed.”

“To your - ?” Eskel looked up quickly. “Didn’t think there was anything left.”

“There weren’t,” Letho turned his back and began to root through his bags in search of more Swallow. In a few hours, Eskel would be strong enough to ride on Scorpion’s back with a few rest stops, but he looked about ready to fall unconscious again. “Me and the boys were, uh, inspired by what you’ve managed to make out of Kaer Morhen, so we went home and began tidyin’ up. It’s livable, and a damn sight more comfortable than slumming it in Beauclair.” He paused, and looked back at Eskel’s pensive expression. “Wolf, I’ve fucked you until you’ve cried, seen you high as a kite, you’ve sucked Auckes and Serrit dry, we’ve fought together, got drunk together. Don’t be developin’ debilitating clan loyalty now.”

“It’s not that - it’s - ,” Eskel sighed heavily through his nose and finally gave in to the dizziness throbbing in his head; if he’d been more with it he might have flushed at his list of exploits with the nest of vipers he’d somehow… befriended. “They’ll worry. It’ll be the first time in years that I haven’t been home.”

“Hm,” Letho rubbed the back of his shaven head. “They’ll live. You won’t though if you try to make the trip north. Sleep more, we’ll leave before sunset.”

As predicted, Eskel found the journey south taxing. Letho monitored his condition and pulled Scorpion to the side of the road whenever the wolf needed time on even ground to catch his breath. The injuries were healing slowly, Eskel’s body in desperate need of rest after a tough year on the Path and the toll of deep, grievous injuries. It took them a week to pass through Mag Turga, with its mountainous terrain, and Letho had never been more relieved to see the flat, green plains of Gheso stretching towards the horizon in the west and yielding to the Tir Tochair mountains in the east.

As he led Scorpion towards the beginnings of the mountain pass, the sun was rising above the snow-capped peaks and Eskel huffed. “Thought you said it was warmer down here during the winter.” His throat hoarse, his skin pale; Letho took a moment to judge whether they needed to stop before he answered.

“It is. Much. You’ll get a nice tan, don’t worry, wolf.”

The path up to Gorthur Gvaed was no less of a trial than the Killer. Eskel gazed down at sheer drops and up at jutting ledges, imagining a younger, smaller Letho throwing himself across the huge chasms as part of his training. Hm. Had Letho ever been smaller, or did they just carve him out of that rock over there? The delirium washed over Eskel and he slumped in Scorpion’s saddle…

***

“And we get to keep him for the whole winter?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t wait ‘til he’s healed.”

“Letho said he might say no.”

Eskel was warm. And comfortable. He recognised those voices, even if he didn’t recognise his surroundings.

“He won’t say no, has too much fun with us, and he loves cock. Loves it.”

A chuckle. “Yeah, and he’s so pretty on one.”

“So pretty.”

The wolf’s arms spread out slowly beneath the blankets - silk, linen - and pressed down into the plush mattress beneath him. Aching muscles relaxed again after a brief wave of uncertainty, and he took a deep breath of familiar scents; the Vipers - Auckes, Serrit, basically twins but for Serrit’s shaggy brown hair - with cloves, and cinnamon, freshly baked bread…

“He’s awake.”

“Yeah.”

Footsteps.

“Hey, puppy dog,” Serrit whispered as he shuffled on the edge of the bed. “You had us worried for a moment there. Open those pretty eyes, let’s see ‘em.” 

Eskel blinked. The room was dimly lit with candles and a large fire in the hearth. The ceiling was tall, vaulted; he could see wooden rafters draped with old tapestries. When he tilted his head, he saw a tall set of double doors leading out to a balcony, beyond that only a darkened horizon. The bed was huge. There were a few furs here and there, but the blankets were mostly silk, woven linen and a supple material he couldn’t identify. It felt gloriously soft against his skin, brushing over sensitive scars, the sensation muffled by the bandages wrapping his torso and arm. 

Naked. 

“Where’re my clothes?”

“Off for cleanin’,” Auckes offered, sitting down at Eskel’s other side. “You won’t be needing them this winter anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Eskel croaked, head lolling to the side as Serrit swept a hand beneath the blankets and stroked across his upper chest.

“Yeah, you gotta’ repay our hospitality somehow,” Serrit murmured. “Don’t worry, puppy dog. We’ll take real good care of you… like always. Get some rest, and when you wake up next we’ll have some food ready.”

The two vipers wriggled beneath the blankets and bracketed him in. Dressed in loose fitting linen shirts and woollen breeches, Eskel could feel their warmth against him. Their hands wandered over his chest and stomach, fingers fluttering lightly over the bandages, caressed his thighs and petted his arms until he melted completely. He fell asleep half hard, exhaustion winning out over arousal. The last thing he saw before his eyes slid closed was a large outline walking through the heavy oak door at the far end of the room…

“You two can’t keep your hands off him, can you?” Letho smirked, placing his bowl of fruit and dried meats on the bedside table. It’d be there for when Eskel woke again.

Auckes nuzzled into Eskel’s hair. “We waited until he was awake.”

“And he looked cold and lonely,” Serrit sat up a little, just about restraining himself from grinding his swollen cock against Eskel’s muscular thigh.