Eunoia
Greek. noun. beautiful thinking; “a well mind.”
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Eskel x Reader
Word Count: 2168
Rating: T
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882895
Masterlist
a/n: Reader Request: “ Hiiii you said you're in writing mood... what about an eskel x reader? Like, Eskel trying to court the reader? I've seen some fics where the reader tries to do the courting. I would like to see the other way around. I don't know if what I said made any sense 🙈 “
Tags: @whitewolfandthefox
Warnings: nothing outside of the ordinary swearing, this is soFT AND FLUFFY!!!
Eskel wishes to try to court you, but he has no clue what he's doing.
Eskel is well and truly fucked. He’s been searching for hours, trying to find the perfect gift for you in the little market. Lambert has been complaining the entire time, clearly not thrilled about having been dragged down the mountain into the little village of Yspaden.
You’ve been the healer here for as long as Eskel can remember, he even remembers you carefully patching him up a few times as he passed through the town into Kaer Morhen. And even though you may have done the same, actually quite a few more times, for Lambert, he holds no qualms about voicing his displeasure.
“Oh my Gods, Eskel, why in the ever-loving fuck are you looking at perfumes? I thought you were trying to court her, not tell her she smells bad.”
Eskel sighs, running a hand over the scars on his face as the merchant glares at Lambert. Eskel pulls the other Witcher away before he can start a brawl and moves to a quiet alcove around the courtyard.
“How about instead of making everything more difficult, you actually help?” he growls, shoving the younger man against the wall. “Sooner I find something, the sooner you get back to lazing about and complaining about literally everything.”
“Well, what the hell do you want me to do? You think I’m some sort of love expert?” Lambert quips back, gesturing rudely as he does. He clenches his jaw for a moment before sagging his shoulders, resigned to help his brother. “Maybe start with something she’d actually like???”
Eskel shoots him a glare from the side of his eyes, grating “You think I haven’t been trying? I mean, what do you get someone who wants for nothing?”
“Did you ask Jaskier? He probably knows plenty about this courting nonsense.”
“Of course I asked Jaskier, you definitely weren’t my first choice.” Eskel earns a punch in the arm for that, grimacing as he continues, “He said that typically, people give each other jewelry or flowers, or will write a song or a poem for them. Lucky for me, since I’m not a poet and she has a garden with just about every flower known to man already in it.”
“Hmm...he give you any other advice?”
Eskel runs a hand through his hair, the dark locks flopping right back into his eyes. “He said that ‘Love is like a pear. A pear is sweet and has a distinct shape. Try to define the shape of a pear.’”
“What is that even supposed to mean???” Lambert groans loudly. “Why are you even doing this?”
Eskel looks askance, his golden eyes lowering to his boots. “I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s taught me what love feels like,” he murmurs, somewhat ashamed of admitting this to his brother.
Lambert grips Eskel’s shoulder, maybe a little bit harder than necessary. Eskel looks up at him, their eyes locking. Wordlessly, Lambert holds his gaze and searches, finding only honesty and vulnerability that he hasn’t seen in years.
“You’ve really got it bad for her, don’t you?” he whispers, Eskel nodding at his words. ‘You know, Aiden never really gave me trinkets...neither of us really needed more shit to carry around,” Lambert says quietly, eyes blurring a bit with the memories. “Every now and then, though, he’d stick a flower behind my ear, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so...so special.”
Lambert’s cheeks redden slightly as he speaks, but it is with a quiet reverence that he chooses his words. “That’s what you need to do, show her just how special she is to you.”
Lambert steps away, promising to stay in the market as he looks to collect some spare supplies for them. Eskel slides his back down the wall, resting his elbows on his knees as he sits.
I think I understand what Jaskier meant… he muses, there aren’t words to describe how special she is to me. Now that I know what having her in my life is like, I can’t imagine a world without her.
He hangs his head dejectedly, thinking that it would be easier to just court Lambert. He’d get the man a new sword and call it a day...wait a second…
Eskel leaps to his feet, weaving through the stalls in the market towards the blacksmith. Not long after and with a promise to return tomorrow, he sets out to track down Lambert and buy him some supper as a peace offering.
…
The next evening
You’ve just stepped back into your little cottage, wiping your hands on your skirt as you move to the hearth. You’ve just finished tending your garden, trimming and pruning the plants as you prepare for the upcoming winter. You have a few more days before you can pick the last of your vegetables, and then you’ll focus on turning the soil and protecting the ground from the frost.
The hearth has died down to only embers, which is just enough to keep your home warm. The autumn air has a chill, certainly, but you welcome the refreshing feeling of being warmed by the embrace of the cinders flowing around the room.
You close your eyes, content for a moment as you take a deep breath in and allowing yourself to relax. However, it doesn’t last long, as a knock on your door startles you from your tranquility.
You cross the room, picking up the metal rake that lays by the entrance that you use as a makeshift weapon. The door creaks as you open it only enough to peek at the man standing at your steps, and you promptly drop the rake.
“Oh! Eskel, it’s so good to see you!” You cry, flinging the door open and almost falling into his arms as you fly down the steps. He steadies you and you wrap your arms around his neck, melting into him as he winds his hands around your waist and holds you close. You feel him take a deep breath into your hair, knowing that he finds comfort in your scent.
You step back, slipping his hand into yours as you pull him into your home. “Would you mind terribly…,” gesturing over to the faintly glowing embers.
Eskel grins, striding further into your home and making a sign with his fingers. The fire comes back to life, strong and warm with his magic. You step behind him and fit his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his back. He is only wearing a dark chemise and his trousers, his boots a bit dirty around the toes.
Eskel’s fingers find yours once more, still tingling with the aftereffects of magic. You feel him shift, so you only increase your hold on him, trying to squeeze all of your care into him. He chuckles and pulls your hands away, and you hum against his back.
He turns and catches you once more in his gaze, his hands settling back at his sides. “I uhh...I have something for you…” he murmurs, reaching into his pack to grab the small brown parcel. You can tell that he is anxious, his gaze flittering and his heart beating a bit faster than normal.
“Oh Eskel, what’s this for?” You grin, reaching out to take the box. You move to the bed in the corner of the room, settling on the edge and patting next to you. Eskel’s lips turn up at the edges, the small smile cracking his nervousness as he moves to sit next to you.
You begin to pull away the brown paper that wraps around the box before Eskel stops you, pulling your hand back to your lap before you can see what is inside.
He clears his throat before taking a deep breath, looking over at you with determination. His eyes are the color of molten honey, the fire licking along the sweetness and dripping down his cheeks.
“I can’t pretend to be good at this…” he begins, holding up a hand to stop you from speaking since you had opened your mouth to reply in some sense. You relent with a smile, grabbing his hand and threading your fingers together as he continues.
“I’ve been wanting to give you something that would really show you how special you are to me, especially because every time that I try to say it, I can’t find words that are sufficient enough.” His voice is low, wary even, but his eyes never leave yours as he tries to tear down the walls that have taken numerous decades to build around his heart.
Eskel strokes his thumb along your knuckles, falling quiet for a moment as he does. You allow this, letting him collect his thoughts in the comfort of your home.
“Every time that I find myself thinking of you, it’s all I can do to not come racing back here and make sure that you’re okay,” he whispers, vulnerable and timid. “I know that you can take care of yourself, and I admire your strength and confidence, but I can’t help but be terrified that I may lose you someday.”
You feel your eyes begin to well up and you grip his hand tighter in yours. He nods down at the package, so you move to tear away the paper and open the box.
Inside, you find a blade, maybe half the length of your forearm. You gently grip the hilt and remove it from the box, delicately letting it rest on your fingers. The hilt is simple, the dark brown wood polished to a shine. It fits your palm perfectly, the weight of the dagger balanced in your hand. The blade is dark, darker than black, like ink spilling across parchment. On one side, there are runes engraved into the metal, sharp edges infusing the blade with palpable magic. On the other side, engravings of ivy and small blossoms creep and twirl along the length of the metal. The ridges and valleys jump with the light of the fire, glinting and shadowing as you turn it in your hands.
“My gods…” you exhale, barely audible even to Eskel, “this is gorgeous…”
You bring your eyes back to him, silently asking him to explain his meaning further. Thankfully, he takes the hint, shifting to better face you on the bed.
“If something happened to you, I have no idea what I would do,” Eskel says quietly. “It would be like someone snuffing out the sun, leaving the world in cold, unfeeling darkness. Knowing that you’re here, safe, and able to protect yourself...I...I need to protect my sun…” His voice trails off, but his eyes are screaming with desperation and adoration.
You offer a shaky smile, a few tears falling down your cheeks as you do. You’ve had people try to win your affections before, using flowers that would wilt like their love or words stolen from someone else’s mouth. But never before had someone laid out their heart for you, shown you that you owned it, and given you the power to do whatever you pleased with it.
You turn, gently setting the dagger on the little table beside your bed. As you settle back to facing Eskel, you move forwards and take his face in your hands. You can feel the raised skin of the scars on his cheek, the blood flushing just under his skin, the infinite weight of the indescribable feeling in his eyes.
You lean down to rest your forehead against his and feel his hands raise to come to rest on your hips. “Eskel, I can promise you this,” you whisper, “I’m not leaving you without a fight.”
You move once more, bringing your lips to brush against his. It’s just the slightest contact, but you feel sparks behind your eyes and taste fire in your mouth. You both surge into each other, desperately clinging to the moment. Your fingers wind into his hair and you feel him bunch the fabric of your blouse in his hands. You lick along his mouth, sucking and laving his lips as you both fight for dominance. You nip his bottom lip as he pulls back, tugging a low groan from deep in his chest.
You stay like this for what could be moments, or it could be days, just breathing each other in. Eskel looks utterly wrecked, his hair disheveled and shirt hanging askew on his broad shoulders. You’re sure that you can’t be looking much different, but the light that shines in Eskel’s eyes is blinding in its glory.
“I love you, Eskel” you murmur, feeling the grip on your hips tighten. You’ve known ever since he stumbled into your home that this man was leaving with your heart, but you now know that he is leaving his own heart here with you.
“I love you too,” he says against your lips, and you know that he has never spoken truer words as he pulls you to him once more.
