When Eskel awoke, he did so with a start unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His heart beat rapidly, pounding against his chest in such a way that Eskel could feel it. He could even hear it right behind the ringing in his ears, the white noise in his eyes. Something was so loud that he couldn’t see, and it had to be his heart. His own heart, because of all things a dream had frightened him to this state. A dream. A dream that he was alone because someone else hadn’t been alone.
As clear as if it were right in front of him, Eskel saw the burning pyre behind his eyelid. The one that had built with Vesemir died to burn his body. Only this time, in the dream, Vesemir hadn’t been alone at his funeral. Lying beside him on a wider pyre was Lambert, eyes closed, and hands folded over his chest to hold his medallion. The Wild Hunt had attacked, and they hadn’t made it out unscathed. Eskel remembered his ears bleeding, but nothing would be worse than seeing that.
“Hey—hey, what the fuck?” That voice. Eskel knew that voice. He knew those hands.
He wasn’t standing outside of Kaer Morhen, despite how he could smell the ashes and the fire. He was in a tavern room, of all places, where he’d been nestled up in bed just minutes before. Now, he was up, his hand on his chest and those other hands on his shoulders. Tugging him. Eskel followed the pull, letting himself be enveloped in arms that he knew, head pressed against a chest that he knew, because sleeping with a shirt on was just too hot.
“Eskel, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Lambert asked.
They left together from Kaer Morhen. Without Vesemir, there was no reason to stay there and no reason to care. So, they’d left. Together. Both of them. Eskel, with Lambert at his side, had traveled down the mountain pass on Scorpion’s back. In the wake of his dream, he hadn’t remembered. Now, he did, even with the scent of ash still fresh in his nose.
“Bad dream,” Eskel managed to choke out.
“Bad dream? The fuck, are you twelve?” Lambert cupped the side of Eskel’s face and titled up his head. “What kind of bad dream’s got you in this state? Can hear your heartbeat the next country over.”
Eskel shook his head and grasped onto Lambert’s chest. There was nothing to really grab, but he tangled his fingers in heavy covering of hair, and that was enough.
“You were dead,” Eskel said. “Wild Hunt. Died. Couldn’t—”
Eskel wouldn’t have even known if Lambert were dead, not until he would have seen the body later. Lambert was with Geralt out front, while Eskel was further back within the keep, waiting for the moment they had to pull back. They did have to, and Lambert was there, but if he hadn’t been, how long would it have taken Eskel to find out? He might have gone the whole fight without ever knowing if Lambert were alive or not, but that would have been the best way. If he knew Lambert had died, maybe he would have, too.
“Hey, hey, hey—” Lambert’s voice was softer, now, and he shifted to get closer to Eskel. “That’s what’s got you all shaken up? Come on, Eskel. Never seen you like this before.”
Eskel wanted to be mad, but he couldn’t bring himself to be. Neither could he bring himself to even say a word. With the things Lambert said, it sounded as if he didn’t think his own death would have been anything to get choked up over, and here Eskel was. He hadn’t ever felt like this before, either, but seeing that in his dream had been so real. Eskel thought he was passed everything that had ever bothered him, strong enough to fear nothing, but seeing Lambert’s body lying dead on a pyre had struck deep.
Now, it was all that he could do get to closer, to feel Lambert’s weak heart beating beneath his chest. With his ear pressed right over it, Eskel finally felt his own begin to slow. He was able to close his eyes, to breathe, and with that, Lambert only held him tighter.
“Talk to me, Eskel.” The way that Lambert said his name, too, so softly. It was the same voice he used when he wanted to make sure Eskel was okay.
“Just—felt real,” Eskel worked out. “Saw you there. Burned your body with Vesemir’s.”
“I’m right here,” Lambert said. “Not going anywhere. Not dead.”
Eskel shuddered, but he found it within himself to nod. To understand. He gripped onto Lambert’s arm desperately, like some helpless child, but Lambert said nothing. He didn’t pull away, nor did he mock Eskel for his behavior. He just sat there, half-twisted around to ensure that he could hold Eskel close to his chest. The sound of his heart was the most calming thing in the world, right now, and Eskel wanted nothing more.
