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“I’m so sorry, are you alright?” Jaskier’s hands fluttered uselessly in front of him, wanting to help but not quite sure if the other man was injured. He hastily put aside his tankard of ale and lute. 

“Sir? Can I help you with anything?” He called when he received no reply. It took a moment, but the man finally raised his head, turning surprisingly keen, golden eyes on Jaskier. He’d thought he was dealing with a drunkard.

He knew he should feel exposed, perhaps intimidated, under such a sharp gaze. Jaskier had never been prone to the reactions of normal people, however, so he felt nothing of the sort.

Surprisingly, he only felt warm, heat pricking his collar. 

Warmer still, as he took notice of the strong jaw, full lips, and long lashes cradling those honeyed irises. His eyes scanned over a set of broad shoulders, topping off a barrel chest, and what he was sure were delectable abs underneath a ruby-colored gambeson. 

Covered in mud he may be, but a pig he was not. 

“You talkin’ to me, pretty thing?” The rumbling, rich baritone shook him out of his stupor. Jaskier planted a charming grin on his face, casually running his hand over his chin in a thoughtful pose to check for drool. Gods above.

“Ah, but the man does speak! Are you sure you’re alright?”

The other man sat up, leaning against the wall. “Just peachy,” he grunted, leaning his elbows on his knees. “No need to worry, pretty thing. My kind are made for a bit of wear and tear.”

Shit. And a smile meant to break a man’s heart, to boot. 

Well. Jaskier had never been one to resist a pretty face.

“Can I help you? Buy you an ale, maybe?”

The grin turned devilish, topaz eyes shimmering with mischief. “Aye, and a bowl of stew if you’re going to bed me,” he winked. “Probably need the energy. You seem like a wild one.” 

Jaskier flushed, shocked and pleased all in one. He returned the wink with a provocative smile of his own. “A gentleman never tells, my dear.”

He held out a hand. A little flirtation did not an acquaintance make. Jaskier was no fool, either.

Two swords on his back. Heavy traveling cloak, worn at the hem and tattered. Scarring on his face and forearms - from some beast or other, no doubt. 

A witcher. Very interesting indeed.

Those discerning eyes stared him down, assessing, before seeming to make a decision. A strong hand clasped Jaskier’s own.

He pulled the other man up with only a little effort and noted the surprise on the witcher’s face. He felt no small amount of pride. He didn’t have a witcher’s bulk, but he wasn’t a small man by any means.

Now that he was standing, Jaskier took full stock of the other man’s form. His new friend had about three inches on him and at least a hundred pounds. Jaskier felt a pleasant tingle run down his spine. It was rare he met a delicious man like this on accident.

“Jaskier,” he announced in his most imperious voice with a courtly, sweeping bow. “At your service.” 

The other man quirked his lips, amused. “Eskel.”

Jaskier felt giddy. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Eskel. I believe I promised you an ale?”

That lovely half-smile doubled in size. “Aye. I believe you did.” 

###

There wasn’t much talking after they went upstairs. Jaskier’s rented room was small, the bed smaller, but it would do the job. 

“Darling,” Jaskier purred once the door was shut, “That armor is quite dashing, but I have to say you’re a tad overdressed.” 

Eskel’s warm body pressed against his with a mouthwatering pressure. With the wall at his back and the absolute boulder of a man at his front, he’d never felt happier about being cornered. A rough hand grasped his jaw, calloused thumb brushing against his bottom lip.

“Pretty words from a pretty mouth,” Eskel rumbled in his deep baritone. Golden eyes bored into Jaskier’s own, pinning him with their intensity. “D’you sing just as sweetly?”

Jaskier smirked wolfishly, wrapping his arms firmly around Eskel’s neck. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”

A husky chuckle, followed by a throaty moan. And then the night was silent.

###

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open, moonlight filtering through the tiny inn window. 

He quietly took stock of the pleasant soreness in his limbs, aches in places which meant he’d had a very good night indeed. It took a few moments for him to become aware of the hard chest beneath his ear, carpeted with smattering of dark hair.

He came fully into awareness, remembering his night with Eskel and feeling a goofy smile bloom across his face. He was almost too comfortable using the witcher as a pillow. He would be perfectly content to lounge around until Eskel woke up. Maybe convince him to go for another round… But loathe as he was to move, he knew he needed to get back home.

As quietly as possible, he disentangled himself from the body below him. He dressed in silence, distinctly aware of every swish and rustle of fabric making their way to sharp witcher ears. He put on just enough clothing to be decent for the trek back, not wanting to delay any further.

Jaskier looked back at the man on the bed. He truly had the body of a god, looked absolutely delectable with a sheet just barely covering his exquisite cock. Blessedly, he’d had the skills in bed to match, which Jaskier was quite thankful for.

He looked oddly vulnerable, soft brown curls falling into his eyes and face lax with sleep. The moon’s rays danced across his striking features and made his tanned skin glow. He was the picture of inviting.

He was beautiful. It was a shame this was only for a night.

“May our paths cross again, Eskel,” he spoke softly.

Jaskier slipped out the door, unaware of the witcher watching him leave.

###

His nightly outings were becoming more common the closer he got to his impending doom. Since he’d passed his twenty-first birthday, Jaskier knew he was living on borrowed time. He knew his father would make things as unpleasant as possible.

Men of the Pankratz family were honor-bound to marry by the end of their twenty-first year. If they had not made a match by this time, a match would be arranged for them by the head of the household. The legend (or so he was told, although it all sounded like horse shit) went that were this rule not met, a curse would befall their house and lands, blighting all who lived within them. 

Or something. He’d never really paid attention during his governess’s lessons, dreadfully boring woman that she was.

But he was damned sure everyone in his house believed in the legend. Without a doubt, he’d be turned out on his ass for the first respectable gentleperson that came calling for him. He was under no illusions that his father had his best interests at heart–far from it, in fact. The sooner they’d be rid of him, the better.

Nothing like a parent’s love, eh?

He bitterly chuckled to himself as he stepped into the shadowed gardens below his quarters. Right turn at the archway. Left at the lavender bushes. Two steps and a hop across the charming little pond with the frogs he’d played with as a child. Now just a shimmy up the trellis to his open window and he’d be home free. 

He should really look into doing this professionally. He’d make an excellent spy.

Jaskier crested the windowsill, feet on the warmed stone floors. The embers of the fire were still hot in the hearth, no doubt stoked by his diligent valet. let out a yawn, feeling his eyes start to droop. 

“I imagine I’d be tired too, after an acrobatics routine like that.”

He jumped about a foot in the air. He did not shriek, thank you very much.

“Jana, you witch!” He hissed, blue eyes blazing. “Perhaps I should put a bell on you!”

She smirked, green eyes glinting maliciously. “And where would be the fun in that?” 

She was the devil incarnate. Evil in the flesh. He loved her to pieces.

“Sister dear,” he hummed, stepping towards his wardrobe. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just checking on my dearest Julek. Thought you might be tossing and turning tonight, is all.”

Jaskier squinted at her before turning back to his clothes. He grabbed a nightshirt and stepped behind the changing screen. “And why ever would I be restless?”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was laughing at him. “Just a… feeling I had.”

He quickly stepped out from behind the screen, more comfortable now in his loose night clothes. He stepped towards the basin to wash his face. Jana was sitting primly on the bench, legs crossed daintily, looking serene as ever. 

Something was definitely wrong.

“Oh?” He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of true curiosity. She was unbearably smug about this little talent of hers.

She got like this, sometimes. Jana was prone to feelings—no one in their family called them premonitions, per se, but it was hard to find a different word to describe them. Sometimes it was small things, like an unexpected change in the weather, but there were other times, too–like when she’d gotten a bad feeling about Aunt Margot’s cold, and she’d passed within a fortnight.

Jana hummed, noncommittal, and tossed her long, chocolate locks over her shoulder. “Something is going to happen tomorrow. Something big. And it concerns you, brother dearest.” 

Jaskier didn’t respond, mind racing. He schooled his features, maintaining the indifferent mask he’d learned as a son of the peerage. The tournament tomorrow was for the benefit of the Pankratz House. It didn’t, however, directly impact Jaskier in any notable way–not more than it would impact them all.

“We shall see, I suppose. Now, if you don’t mind,” he pointedly shuffled towards his bed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he passed. “I need my beauty rest.” 

He’d turned down the covers and was just about to snuff the light when Jana approached him, ruffling his hair. He huffed. She turned away toward the door with a smile.

“Indeed we shall, little brother. Tomorrow.”

###

The morning dawned bright, trumpets and birdsong intermingling with the fresh dew. The sunlight was dappled through the trees in the clearing and the air smelled of late spring blossoms.

It was far too fine a day for such nonsense.

“Hark! Hear ye, hear ye! On this day commences the Tournament of Koselig, attended only by the most honorable of knights and lords!”

The opening speeches were always dull as watching paint dry. The Pankratz family was seated in the box with the best view of the action at the head of the field. He was expected to smile and nod as the competitors passed their box, acknowledging the brave souls fighting and potentially losing life and limb. All for the sake of their entertainment–and today, the dubious honor of ruling the shittiest parcel in the province.

It made him sick, to be honest. 

“You don’t suppose we could slip out after the announcements, do you? I’m sure Vincent could be convinced to cover for us with the right motivation.” He winked at Jana, earning a giggle in return.

“You know we can’t, Julek. Besides–I really do have a good feeling about today. Something important is going to happen, I just know it.” 

Her feelings were not to be dismissed. It was sure to be an eventful day, for one reason or another. He just hoped it wasn’t at his expense.

“Jana, Julian, do be quiet. Where are your manners?” His mother tutted, one elegant brow arched. She was the spitting image of his sister, with a few more lines around her eyes and streaks of gray through her hair.

“Apologies, mother. I seem to have forgotten my patience today,” Jaskier smiled sweetly. “Must these things be so terribly tedious?”

“It would do you well to watch your tongue, Julian. Comes with the territory. A Viscount is expected to behave and attend events such as this.”

“Only a Viscount in name, father. Don’t you worry–you’ll never have to bless me with more responsibility than that with our dear Jana here.”

The tension between father and son was palpable. Jana discretely squeezed his hand in support. 

Jaskier’s relationship with his father had never been the greatest, but they had reached an all-time low recently. He felt like he was on a tightrope, closer and closer to falling to the brink as each day passed. Who–or what–his father had in store for him was a great source of anxiety. And two of them weren’t exactly the types to have heart-to-heart chats, so his fate would inevitably be a surprise. Joy of joys.

In other circumstances, he’d be filling the gaping pit of anxiety with a glass of wine and a warm body, but alas. Duty called, as his father liked to remind him.

“We have the honor of being hosted today by the esteemed Pankratz family: the Earl Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Maria Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Jana Pankratz of Lettenhove, and Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove,” the herald carried on. “The knights and lords present will compete today for the honor of overseeing one of his Lordship’s properties in Hygge, a parcel of land which…”

Jaskier found his attention drifting beyond the stands, the announcements a tiresome buzzing in the background. From the looks of it, every person in the city of Koselig had turned out for the event, and probably the neighboring cities too. They were practically giving away a prize today, wrapped up in a neat, entertaining package and decorated with a ball. It was no wonder it looked like the entirety of coastal Redania had arrived on their front lawn. 

He wasn’t surprised. His parents were well-liked for their fair ruling of the lands they controlled, but they were equally liked for the lavish parties they liked to throw. It wasn’t all a front, but every event, gift, and act of service was part of a carefully calculated plan to keep the populace happy and maintain appearances.

His mother, for all that she was kind, was incredibly shrewd and good with people. She knew what would keep them happiest (and what would shut them up). His father was a strict man, committed to the principles of duty and obedience. At the same time, he wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate a situation in his favor. Jaskier loved them, but he didn’t always like them.

Hygge was a sizeable estate just shy of a week’s ride north of Jaskier’s home in Koselig. Its accompanying village was full of fishermen and farmers alike, with the coast nearby and plenty of fertile land to till. The former Lord who’d ruled over the property for the last twenty years had died two months prior. Rather unfortunately for everyone, he passed without an heir. Even more unfortunately, he had done a poor job managing things in the last five years. Much work would need to be done by the new proprietor.

His parents needed someone to manage the property and township. Jana, as heir to their family estate, had been assisting with the property in the months since the former Lord’s passing. This obviously wasn’t a long-term solution as she would take over in Koselig one day.

They had decided to select a new proprietor, ideally a knight looking to settle down or a lower member of the peerage without many responsibilities. And because his mother had a flair for dramatics, what better way to find someone willing than a tournament?

It was great marketing, he had to hand it to her. Undoubtedly, they would find someone today.

“Gentlemen! Please present yourself to the venerable Pankratz family!”

Jaskier put on his most polite and courtly smile for the introductions. One by one, the assembled lords and knights stepped up to the box. There was a Lord Valdo from Cidaris who seemed utterly obnoxious–-gods, he hoped he didn’t win. A knight from Roggeveen with a peculiar mustache. Another Lord So-and-So from Denesle who sounded absolutely drunk off his ass—that would make for a good show. 

He almost fell out of his chair when he spotted a familiar red gambeson and mop of brown hair. Flashes of last night sent a rush of blood to a very unfortunate place as he locked gazes with a familiar pair of golden eyes. 

Their bodies meeting in an intimate embrace. Eskel’s calloused hands gripping his hips tightly. Deep, rumbling groans as Jaskier rode him. The insatiable desire for more. And afterward, those same work-worn hands stroking soothingly down his back. Sweaty bangs tenderly brushed off his forehead. A gentle hand cleaning him up with a rough-hewn cloth. A handsome face, enhanced by scars, relaxed and sated in sleep.

Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Eskel dipped into a formal bow. “Sir Eskel, Witcher of the Wolf School.” 

“Ha!” His father burst out, with great amusement. “A witcher, competing in my tournament! Surely you can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly so, my Lord,” Eskel’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes cool. Despite this, he gave no outward signs of annoyance, his posture remaining relaxed and easy. 

“Oh?” His father raised an imperious brow. “And do you meet the entry requirements? One must be an established member of the peerage or a knight to compete. This isn’t a tournament for just anyone.”

“How fortunate, then,” Eskel drawled, “that I am knighted. His Royal Highness, Windhalm of Attre, knighted me four summers ago. Dealt with a rotfiend problem he was having, nasty business.”

Alfred did not say a word, but one look at his face said enough about his frustration. Eskel paid no mind.

“Convenient as well that he granted me the title Baronet of Attre, as a personal honor for my services. Still a peasant at heart and in title, but the words are pretty, yeah?”

Eskel rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a seemingly bashful gesture. “Aye, a shame I turned the land down at the time. After all, a witcher? A proprietor? Can’t be serious.” He gave a deep belly laugh at the thought, throwing his head back. “Changed my mind, though. I’ve rather come to like the idea of settling down.” 

The tension could be cut with a knife. Jaskier, his sister, his mother–hell, even the herald–all waited, staring at Alfred in suspense.

“Well then, my Lord? Do I pass the test?” The witcher gave a winning smile, the epitome of mannerly but possessing an air of cold detachment Jaskier knew his father detested. It was the same persona his father used at court.

Color crept up Alfred’s collar. Jaskier could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He hid a smile behind his hand, biting his lip. Entertainment, indeed.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, Sir Eskel of the Wolf School, Baronet de Attre, it certainly seems you do. We look forward to seeing you… compete.” Alfred gave a stiff and reluctant nod, dismissing him. The moment was over.

Or, well, Jaskier thought it was.

Eskel gave his family another formal bow. His eyes met Jaskier’s with intention as he rose back to his full height. Jaskier felt his breath catch in his throat as gold met blue. 

There was something there, in his gaze. A heat–not the burning kind, no, but something pleasant. Like hot cider on a winter’s night. Like a fire to warm cold bones--or an aching heart. Jaskier felt a shiver down his spine.

He felt trapped in that stare, unable to look away. He gave a coquettish smile, unable to resist his natural flirtation even for a moment, particularly with the witcher. Eskel gave a charming, boyish grin back, inclining his head deeply before turning away.

And oh, what a lovely sight he made. Although his trousers really did look better off…

“What the hell was that?” Jana hissed into his ear, breaking the spell Jaskier had fallen under.

“What was what?” Jaskier asked in his best attempt at innocence, rubbing sweaty palms against his knees. 

“You know what. Do you know him?” 

“We may have met before - hard to say, I meet a lot of people.”

Jana scoffed, pushing against his shoulder with her own at his non-answer. Jaskier laughed, fondly, and turned his attention back to the field.

Neither of them noticed Alfred’s piercing stare as he eyed them with suspicion.

They were back at the Kaedweni airport to be picked up by Lambert. Jaskier and Geralt had both missed Kaer Morhen and its inhabitants, and as Jaskier was able to work from home, they had decided to come here for winter.

Jaskier had never seen proper winter, Lettenhoven and Oxenfurt both being too far south for snow to ever stick around. He was only slightly disappointed when he found out that it hadn't snowed yet in Kaedwen, but Geralt had promised that by the end of winter he wouldn't be able to stand to see snow. Jaskier highly doubted that. Snow was magical and beautiful.

Geralt's stomach growled and Jaskier snickered. "Poor darling, I'm sure Vesemir will have a lot of food prepared for us."

Geralt huffed and slumped down onto Jaskier, who struggled a little to carry both their weight.

"I surely will have perished until then," he whines. "I hope Vesemir made pierogi."

Jaskier grinned and pressed a kiss to Geralt's cheek. His boyfriend was adorable when pouty.

Finally, after what felt like hours, their luggage came and they rushed out to find Lambert.

They had barely made their way outside when Jaskier was nearly tackled to the ground.

"Aiden," he managed to wheeze out and said witcher purred up a storm as he rubbed himself all over Jaskier. Ahead of him, Jaskier could see Lambert and Geralt engaged in their ritual lets-see-who-can-squeeze-the-other-to-death-first-hug.

Jaskier's heart swelled with happiness. It was good to see they have been missed as much as they missed the other witchers.

Eventually, Aiden let go of him to greet Geralt and Jaskier got to experience the death hug himself. It was weird how happy this made him.

The landscape on their car ride was just as beautiful as last time. Winter in the south meant bare trees and everything looked grey and sad. Here everything was still green due to the evergreens. Jaskier sighed happily. It looked like a fairy tale.

Geralt next to him scooted into the middle seat, sniffing at Jaskier and whining softly.

"What is it?"

"You smell wrong." He was shooting daggers at Aiden who was cackling in the front seat. Seeing Jaskier's confused expression, he added "He scented you and now you smell like Aiden."

Ohhh, Jaskier thought, Geralt is just a jealous puppy again. Smirking, he pressed closer into Geralt.

"I guess you'll just have to mark your territory again."

Hunger flashed across Geralt's eyes, but before he could say something Lambert interrupted.

"Oi! If you two try to get it on in the back, I will throw you out! Don't you dare desecrate my car like that."

Geralt just huffed. "Fuck off, Lambert."

"Fuck you!"

"Maybe if you don't want me to desecrate your car, you should keep your husband in check."

Lambert spluttered and from there on the two brothers fought the entire way back, spurred on by pointed comments from both Jaskier and Aiden.

When they finally made it to Kaer Morhen, Eskel was already waiting for them outside. He wasn't wearing his medallion, so Jaskier could see his tail wagging freely. If it were to go any faster Eskel would surely take off into the air.

As Lambert carried their luggage and Aiden back inside, Jaskier and Geralt got greeted by Eskel. Eskel squeezed Geralt just as hard as Lambert had, but luckily he had a little more sensibility than his youngest brother and subjected Jaskier to a human-safe hug.

"How was your journey?"

"Good, Geralt was so hungry, I had to keep him from fishing a half-eaten sandwich out of the trash can at the airport."

Eskel laughed and Geralt grumbled. He sniffed the air and as his eyes lit up he bolted inside.

Jaskier looked fondly after Geralt. "I had half a mind to just let him. Have you seen the prices? It's ridiculous!"

They went after Geralt and Jaskier quickly found out why his boyfriend had been in such a hurry. The entire house smelled like pierogi.

In the kitchen, Vesemir was fending off Geralt with a wooden spoon.

"Dinner is ready in 10 minutes, you will wait until then and not eat half of them already!"

It seemed that Geralt had taken off his medallion too, because Jaskier could see Geralt's ears twitching, clearly contemplating how to best get around Vesemir to steal some of the pierogi.

Taking mercy on Vesemir so that he could finish cooking, Jaskier pulled Geralt out of the kitchen.

"Come on you big oaf, help me set the table, then you will get to eat faster."

Vesemir nodded at Jaskier in thanks as he did his best to manhandle an uncooperative Geralt to the living room. He sighed. Geralt and hunger were a horrible combination.

Dinner was absolute chaos.

The witchers all behaved like over-excited puppies, talking over each other, demanding each other's attention, and not being able to sit still. Even Vesemir got a little swept up in the general ruckus, smiling broadly and egging his sons on. It was obvious how happy they all were to finally be reunited again.

After dinner, Vesemir send them all out to get their energy out, while he and Jaskier cleaned up a bit.

"I hope my boys weren't too much for you."

Jaskier looked up from where he was washing plates.

"Not at all. Geralt has relaxed around me so much, but coming back here is always something else. I love seeing him completely let go."

Vesemir hummed.

"I'm glad he found you. I never thought a human could accept us all so willingly and freely."

Jaskier blushed. Getting Vesemir's approval so freely meant a lot to him.

"Tell me if they should ever get too much, though. I know hiding places in this house not even my boys know of."

The warmth in Vesemir's voice made Jaskier blush even deeper.

"I will. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Vesemir smiled back and went to put the dry dishes back into the cupboards.

When they got back into the living room, Jaskier cooed at the sight.

The Witchers had finally run themselves exhausted and were lying now in a big cuddle pile in front of the chimney. Soft snores could be heard and Jaskier melted at how their ears were twitching in sleep. He was curious what they could be dreaming about.

Jaskier looked over at Vesemir.

"Will you join them?"

"Ah, my old bones won't last a night on the stone floor. Will you?"

"No," said Jaskier laughing. "I did once and I nearly suffocated when they all ended up lying on me. Also, Lambert is a horrible kicker, I don't know how Aiden can live with that."

Vesemir chuckled lowly. "He always used to do that since he was a small pup."

Together they moved upstairs. Jaskier flustered a bit as Vesemir pulled him in for a fatherly hug. His family was nice, but none of them would ever have been this physically affectionate. He had to suppress a grin as Vesemir tried to subtly sniff him, making sure he really was okay.

Jaskier quickly got ready for bed. Moonlight was streaming through a crack in the curtains.

Happily he snuggled into Geralt's huge bed. He could live one night without Geralt. They still would have weeks here together.

He couldn't wait to see what was to come.

————

Four days into their stay a scream woke everyone up. Not Jaskier, though.

He was the origin of the scream.

"Geralt, wake up!!"

Jaskier jumped onto the bed where a sleepy Geralt was trying to hide beneath the blankets.

"Get uuuuup! It snowed!"

Why was Geralt not sharing his excitement? Before he could complain more, an arm shot out from the pile of blankets and dragged him under. Shrieking and laughing he wrestled with Geralt until he could free himself. Quickly he jumped over to the window.

As far as Jaskier could see, everything was covered under a thick blanket of snow. It didn't look like the same place anymore. The snow hid the shapes and forms of the landscape, transforming it into a plane of glittering snow in the morning sun. Brightly grinning, he turned around.

Geralt was sitting up in bed, horrible bed hair, and the blankets pooling around him as he scratched lazily at his naked cheat. His expression was still bleary and full of sleep and usually this would be enough for Jaskier to press Geralt back into bed and lovingly rail him, but today he had more important things to do.

Jaskier didn't even bother putting on thicker clothes or socks before rushing outside.

Which was a mistake.

He took three steps outside before running back in. Jaskier knew snow was cold, but that cold…rather rude of the snow.

Quickly he grabbed his shoes and back out he went.

It was magical. The snow was crunching under his boots but it was still so fluffy to the touch. He gathered enough to make a snowball. It wasn't as round as he wished it to be, but it flew beautifully into the distance anyways.

He turned around at the sound of crunching footsteps. Geralt was walking over, a coat slung over his arm and a besotted smile on his face.

"Did the snow make you forget common sense?" he chided gently.

Only now did Jaskier realise just how cold he has gotten in those few minutes outside and he thankfully let Geralt help him get the jacket on.

"Sorry love, I just got too excited."

"Hmmm, I do know that a happy you tends to lose all his brain cells."

Geralt sneaked his arm around Jaskier and gave his ass a playful squeeze. Jaskier gasped in affront, but Geralt kissed him quickly before he could say anything.

"Let's eat breakfast and then we will all go outside?"

Jaskier pouted, but he let himself be pulled back inside.

The others already sat around the table, munching sleepily on their breakfast. Lambert glared at him.

"You couldn't have been any louder this morning?"

"Sorry," said Jaskier sheepishly.

Lambert grumbled some more but let Aiden soothe him which consisted of the Cat simply depositing himself in Lambert's lap and purring until Lambert stopped scowling so hard. It was adorable.

As promised, they all went out after breakfast. Vesemir had some carrots so they began with building snowmen, which quickly ended in a competition of who could build the biggest and most snowmen.

Later everyone will claim it wasn't them, but when the first snowman got knocked over all hell broke loose. It's everyone for themselves and even Vesemir got dragged into the fight.

Jaskier hid behind a snowman. There was a momentary lull as everyone had spread out to hide and restock their ammunition. Carefully, he peaked around.

There, just below the roof of the stables, was a tail swishing from behind a snowman. Jaskier knew that when the witchers were fighting they could hold perfectly still, but in a play fight like this, their tails tended to betray the fun they were having. And this time also Lambert's position.

Jaskier grinned to himself. Geralt had warned him to not spend time below the roof as the snow on top easily got loose and could bury you. He would use that now to his advantage.

Carefully, he aimed one of his bigger snowballs at the rooftop.

The snowball flew and landed perfectly with a thunk. Something cracked and before Jaskier knew it, the entire snow on the roof came rushing down.

"What the — AAARGGHH!!"

Jaskier howled with laughter as Lambert got buried under the snow, muffled curses coming from beneath it. But he wasn't the only one.

He could hear Aiden laughing, in fact, he laughed so hard that he fell out of his hiding spot in the roof beams.

Jaskier's side was hurting with how hard he was laughing. Lambert slowly clawed his way out of the snow pile and immediately zeroed in on Jaskier. His eyes were speaking murder.

"Oh fuck."

Jaskier suddenly had much more sympathy prey of wolves. Lambert took one step forward and Jaskier booked it.

Geralt just laughed at him as he was chased around by Lambert who was carrying the stomach of a snowman to throw.

————

One of Jaskier's favourite winter activities was just lying on a sofa in front of the chimney with a mug of mulled wine while reading a book.

The wolf witchers were more adventurous. They didn't deal well with being cooped up inside all day and went regularly on long hikes into the mountains. Aiden usually didn't join them. Unlike Jaskier, he was definitely fit enough, but as it turned out, the cat wasn't too happy about the cold and also preferred to stay back and lounge in front of the fire.

Jaskier loved those afternoons. Aiden didn't mind a little conversation, but for the most part he also liked to just relax together in silence.

One afternoon Jaskier decided that he had read enough and maybe he could take a nap. He put his book away and yawned.

Aiden looked up.

"Are you taking a nap?"

Jaskier just nodded in affirmation.

Aiden immediately jumped up from the floor and walked over to the couch. He plopped down beside Jaskier's legs.

"Gonna join me?" Jaskier asked, a yawn interrupting further questions.

Aiden didn't answer. He scooted a little closer and began purring as he pressed first his left and then his right hand into the soft part of Jaskier's legs over and over again.

Jaskier smiled softly. He loved Geralt and he loved his more wolfish instincts, but there was something about those cat mutations that Jaskier found extra adorable.

Baking cookies, Jaskier thought. He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up several hours later to Aiden nosing at his neck who by now was cuddling him and the sounds of the wolf witchers returning home. Geralt was the first who entered the living room.

"Hello love, did you have a good trip?"

Geralt hummed and sat down on the ground next to the sofa.

"It was fun, saw some rare species. Vesemir thinks they might be repopulating, so that's exciting."

He leaned forward, sniffed at Jaskier, and growled. It wasn't a playful growl, his ears alert and his lips curling, revealing a row of very sharp teeth.

Aiden immediately jumped away, but he was laughing menacingly as he rushed out of the room.

Jaskier looked confused at Geralt. "What was that about?"

He tried to smooth out Geralt's scowling, but he only scowled harder.

"Aiden marked you. He knows it annoys me when you don't smell like me anymore."

Jaskier had noticed before that Geralt loved it when Jaskier took his clothing and looked unhappy when Aiden was rubbing himself too much on Jaskier. That would explain it.

"Bad kitten. Should I tell him off?"

"Do you like his affection?"

Jaskier cupped Geralt's face in his hands who immediately pressed kisses to his palms.

"I do, but I don't like you being unhappy."

"But I don't want to drive a wedge between you two."

Jaskier leaned forward, kissing Geralt softly. Geralt sighed into the kiss, demanding a few more before he would let Jaskier move away again. Jaskier couldn't help but giggle.

"My sappy wolf. Then how about we get a little revenge on them?"

Geralt grinned mischievously.

"I love the way you think. What's the plan?"

"Well, I'm gonna assume that Lambert and Aiden equally like it for their things to smell of them?"

"Yeah, it just feels right."

"Then how about we fuck in their bed, make it smell of us?"

Geralt pulled away, his eyes blown wide in surprise.

"That's mean…they will hate that. Lambert will explode when he finds out."

"Oh, well, if it is too much…"

Geralt laughed. "No, it's fucking perfect. Lambert wanted to take Aiden into town tomorrow." He leaned a little closer to whisper into Jaskier's ears. "I will fuck you until you can't come anymore and then I'll fuck you some more."

Jaskier moaned, his entire body immediately burning with arousal.

"Fuck, yes pleased, Geralt." He sat up and moved into Geralt's lap. "I also think we should practice for that right now."

Geralt growled and caught his lips in a kiss again. It was the complete opposite of their earlier kisses, hungry and with too much teeth, but Jaskier couldn't care anymore. It has been a while since they last had sex.

Jaskier yelped when Geralt suddenly stood up and carried him up to their room without any effort. Another wave of arousal hit him at that casual display of strength.

On their way, they passed Aiden. Jaskier winked at him. The consequences be damned, if this kind of revenge gets Geralt going this much, then he will happily do it again.

————

They all spend most of their time at Kaer Morhen, but from time to time Vesemir sent them out for errands. Today it was Jaskier, Lambert, and Eskel's turn to go into town.

As they'd be among people, the witchers put on their medallions again to hide their more animalistic traits, but Jaskier missed seeing their true forms. He had gotten used to them so much.

But even when their outward mutations might be gone, their inner ones did not.

Eskel was the one who liked to pretend the most that there was nothing unusual about them. When in public he always pretended to just be a regular human.

Lambert did not care for that. He sniffed around constantly, following smells and noises. Eskel had to reign him back in more than once when he tried to walk off to find the source of an especially delicious smell.

They were on their way back to the car when Lambert began to throw snowballs at Eskel.

"Cut it out, Lambs."

"Why, you need to loosen up a bit!"

Eskel just threw Lambert an exasperated look while Lambert continued to throw snow at him. Jaskier snickered on the side. Brotherly love could be a lot. Eskel growled lowly at Lambert when he tried to throw the next one. Lambert stopped for a second and then changed tactics. Now he was trying out just how close he could throw the snowballs next to Eskel's head. Eskel rolled his eyes but didn't say anything anymore.

When they got back to the car, Lambert threw one especially close. Before either of them knew what happened, Eskel had caught the snowball.

With his mouth.

He stopped, startled about what just had happened.

Jaskier and Lambert were turning red in their faces trying to suppress their laughter. The confused expression on Eskel was just too funny.

Jaskier lost his fight against his laughter, when Eskel growled, spit out the snow in his mouth, and tackled Lambert to the ground.

He was in stitches as he watched Lambert getting his ass beaten. Eskel had him in a headlock and was stuffing snow down Lambert's jacket.

"Asshole! Get off me! Nooooo, it's cold."

"Beg me for it, Lambchop," Eskel said now laughing while continuing to press snow to Lambert's face.

"Fuck you!"

Jaskier watched them for a few more minutes and packed the car as Lambert couldn't break out of Eskel's hold on the slippery ground.

Eventually, he gave up the fight. He was trying to nose at Eskel's neck and lick it in a show of submission.

"Are you sorry?" Eskel said, not sounding angry anymore.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Please let me go," Lambert whined, pouting at Eskel.

Eskel chuckled and licked a long line across Lambert's face, who bristled but submitted to the treatment.

They helped each other off of the ground and with a still giggling Jaskier in tow they drove back home.

————

Jaskier loved winter here in Kaedwen. The snow was beautiful, the landscape magical and he had been able to try out so many winter activities like skiing and sledging that he never got to do before, it was just a joy all around.

Every time he thought the snow was gonna melt away there came a new snowstorm, trapping them all inside and laying down a new layer of snow.

They spend their days in front of the chimney, drinking warm beverages, telling stories, and playing games, and Jaskier honestly never felt more at home.

He did start missing Oxenfurt though. And spring. And seeing other colors besides white.

Jaskier would never admit to it though.

With the weeks passing it was getting warmer and warmer. Jaskier knew that by now in Oxenfurt the first spring flowers had sprouted because Priss had sent him so many pictures that he'd gotten rather jealous.

One morning Jaskier woke up, Geralt already getting dressed and looking out the window.

"Did the snow finally melt?"

A shadow flickered over Gerald's face, but Jaskier couldn't decipher in time what it meant.

"No, it actually snowed last night."

"What?!" That couldn't be, it was supposed to be warmer by now! Quickly Jaskier jumped out of the bed and rushed to the window.

"You ass!" he shouted. It had, in fact, not snowed anymore. Most of the snow had melted away and nature was waking up out of its winter sleep. There were patches of early spring flowers all over the fields and Jaskier jumped excitedly up and down.

"Did you get sick of the snow after all?" Geralt teased. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, nuzzling into his neck.

Jaskier huffed. "I'm not admitting to anything. It's just nice to see something else for a change."

Behind him, Geralt chuckled.

"So next winter we will come again?"