Eskel and Vesemir were both in the training yard when they both heard the sound of hoof beats rapidly approaching Kaer Morhen, and Vesemir frowned. All of the boys knew that the path was dangerous, and shouldn't be attempted at that sort of speed, even this early in the winter, when the snow was still light on the ground.

"Who do you think that is?" Eskel queried, glancing towards the main gate through which everyone entering the keep arrived, and at the sword in his hand. He and Vesemir had been doing some light sparring, although the real training wouldn't commence until Geralt and Lambert arrived, if Lambert ended up coming.

"I don't know," admitted Vesemir, "but they are getting closer."

The two Witchers collected their weapons and headed for the main gate. As the rider approached Vesemir could tell from the sound of their racing heartbeat, that they were no Witcher, although when the rider came into sight, he was surprised to see Roach charging towards Kaer Morhen, the young Ciri clinging to her back, the scent of the princess's tears in the air. Roach skidded to a stop as she clattered into the courtyard, and both Witchers could hear the mare's breaths as she snorted and danced, despite the sweat she was coated in. Ciri's own sobs could also be heard, and both Eskel and Vesemir stepped forward. Eskel gently took Roach's reins and began to try and calm the mare, while Vesemir rested his hand on Ciri's leg.

"Ciri my dear, what is it?"

"Vesemir," Ciri exclaimed, dismounting Roach and throwing her arms around Vesemir. Vesemir returned the embrace, rubbing the teenager's back soothingly.

"What happened?"

"Geralt and Jaskier, they're down the mountain track. We were attacked by a Wyvern and Geralt made me ride ahead. I've got all the potions and bandages and everything, we didn't have time to unload.

"Fuck," Eskel swore, leaving Roach and dashing inside the keep, obviously for his own potion supply. Vesemir stayed where he was, trying to calm Ciri down.

"It's alright, Geralt's been doing this for a long time, he knows how to deal with a Wyvern, and from what Geralt's told me over the years that bard of his has a good head on his shoulders. Geralt will keep them both safe."

It was only a few minutes later when Eskel reappeared, saddle bag in arms, with additional doses of Golden Oriole being shoved into his pants pocket.

"How far down the path were you, Ciri?"

"Only a few hours," Ciri replied as Eskel ran into the stable and began to tack up Scorpion.

"Take my horse too, they may both be injured," Vesemir called out to Eskel, who made an affirmative noise. Vesemir gently guided Ciri and Roach out of the way as Eskel emerged from the stable with both his horse and Vesemir's tacked up. Eskel swung himself into Scorpion's saddle, while leading Vesemir's horse by the reins.

"Bring them back, Eskel, and be careful," Vesemir told him. Eskel nodded and immediately set off. Roach moved to follow but Vesemir caught onto her reins and held her in place.

"Not you, my dear Roach. You have earned a rest. Come, Ciri, let's get Roach settled and then we'll go inside and get your rooms set up, shall we?"

Ciri nodded and together they headed into the stable, leading Roach along with them.

THE WITCHER

Eskel could smell the blood in the air before he could see anything, and he nudged Scorpion to go a little faster as they made their way down the mountain, searching for signs of the Wyvern, or of Geralt and his bard. Eskel had already taken a dose of Golden Oriole as a precaution, but as he rounded a curve in the trail, and saw the slightly wider section of path where the attack had taken place, he knew he needn't have worried.

The Wyvern was dead, it's head severed from it's body , sprawled across the path, the ground splattered with it's blood, Geralt's sword abandoned beside it, but it took Eskel a moment longer to spot Geralt and the bard.

They were both near the treeline, Geralt slumped against a tree, the bard resting against his chest, both of them drenched in blood, although Eskel wasn't sure whose blood it was. It was only when he drew closer, and he realised how pale the bard was, his skin nearly as pale as the snow that covered the ground, that he realised that the Wyvern must have injured the bard somehow…and badly for the bard to have lost so much blood.

Dismounting from Scorpion Eskel hurried to the side of Geralt and the bard, his alarm growing when Geralt didn't respond to his approach, although he could still hear Geralt's heart beating, as well as the rapid, weak thumping of the bard's heart. They were both still alive, if only just in the bard's case.

"Geralt…Geralt…wake up!"

"Hmm," Geralt groaned, his eyes fluttering open as he blinked wearily up at Eskel. Eskel felt something ache in his chest when he saw the dried tear tracks marking Geralt's face.

"Eskel," Geralt greeted his brother, "Is Ciri?"

"She's safe and sound with Vesemir, as is Roach." Eskel reassured, "What about you, are you alright?"

Geralt grimaced and shook his head, his gaze shifting from Eskel down at the unconscious bard, and then down at his right arm, the arm that Eskel was closest to. Eskel winced sympathetically when he saw the deep cut that marked Geralt's skin, and uncorked a bottle of Golden Oriole, offering it to his brother. Geralt took the potion and swallowed it down with a grimace.

"Would it help him?" Eskel asked, although he knew the answer. It was too dangerous to give Golden Oriole to a human, even if they had been dosed with Wyven venom.

Geralt shook his head, "Don't think he got hit with the tail, just claws and teeth."

"They can be just as bad sometimes, he's still hanging in there though, he's tough."

Geralt gave a single nod, and Eskel's heart sank. Geralt had obviously had a better look at Jaskier's injuries, and it obviously wasn't good.

"Come on, we should get out of here. I'll come back later and deal with that," he gestured at the Wyvern.

Geralt grunted and tried to stand up, still holding Jaskier in his arms, but he stumbled, his body not yet recovered enough from the Wyven venom to stand and lift Jaskier at the same time. Eskel put his hand on Geralt's shoulder, holding him down.

"No, you're not strong enough, not yet. I'll carry him with me on Scorpion, and you can ride Vesemir's horse. If he starts to fall off you might not be able to catch him in time."

Geralt reluctantly nodded and they carefully eased Jaskier to the ground, and Eskel hissed when he saw the damage through the blood-soaked remains of Jaskier's tunic. Geralt had obviously tried to staunch the bleeding with a spare chemise belonging to the bard, but there was still far too much blood.

"How the fuck is he still alive?" he choked out, not expecting Geralt to reply. Geralt, predictably, said nothing and Eskel focused on guiding Geralt up and across to Vesemir's horse, who was patiently waiting for them. Eventually, Geralt was up on the horse, although he was still obviously groggy and weak. Eskel quickly gathered up the bard's bag, and Geralt's sword, stowing them with Geralt on Vesemir's horse, before Eskel ran back to Jaskier and as gently as he could gathered the bard up into his arms. Jaskier didn't make a nose as Eskel carried him to Scorpion and lifted him into the saddle, swinging up behind the bard so he could hold him steady.

Geralt nudged Vesemir's horse into movement and they began to make their way up the mountain, slowly and steadily to avoid jostling any injuries. Eskel was painfully aware of the sound of Jaksier's breathing and heart beat as they rode, fearful that both signs of life could stop at any moment.

And Eskel knew from the way Geralt twisted in his saddle to look over his shoulder and check on them, that Geralt was feeling the exact same way.