Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Eskel

Geralt did notice the Bard's disappearance. The second Jaskier went quiet he turned to see where he'd gone, and was caught off guard by Lambert, the sword slicing across his cheek.
"Pay attention Geralt!" He snapped, frowning at him. "Forget about your butt buddy for one moment and fight me!" Geralt growled and leapt at his brother, full of anger that would give him an edge. He knew he shouldn't be so protective of Jaskier, chances are if he were here the comment wouldn't have bothered him, but it bothered Geralt. That's when he heard the cry: "GERALT!"
He moved faster than he ever thought he could, racing towards the voice without a second thought. The hall was empty, and he ran through it to the corridors. He was vaguely aware that his brothers were following him, presumably in case there had been a breach and not for Jaskier's safety. 
"Eskel!?" Geralt yelled in confusion and fear as he rounded the corner and found his friend pinning Jaskier to their room's door, sword to his throat and hand reaching for a dagger in his belt. "Get off him!"
Jaskier visibly relaxed a little, heaving a huge sigh of relief as Geralt held his own sword out to Eskel and gestured that he drop his own. He didn't.
"You know this thief? I caught him taking something from your room and trying to scarper."
"Paper and pen-" Jaskier tried to explain, but the sword was pressed closer to his windpipe.
"And your blood is on him, I can smell it."
"Eskel, but the blade down." Geralt was growing more anxious by the second. Eskel was hot-tempered at the best of times, and now he was paranoid and angry, which didn't make for a good combination, especially for what Geralt was about to tell him. "He wasn't stealing, it's his room too... and the blood is mine, yes, but from a griffin attack." He peeled his shirt aside to show the blood splotched bandage around his shoulder.
"His room too?" Eskel crinkled his face up in confusion but he lowered his blade. Geralt let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.
"Yes. Jaskier sleeps- " Geralt cleared his throat, dreading having to say it. "-with me."
Eskel stood back sharply and looked between them in disbelief.
"Honestly, is that how you greet all your guests? And I thought Geralt was unhospitable." Jaskier dusted himself off and glared at Eskel. 
"Your soft, you know that. And it's going to get us killed." Geralt stared at his brother with a confused scowl, so Eskel elaborated: "You attach yourself to a fucking dandy bard, one who would shit himself at the sight of a battle, and you decide after one fuck that you can bring him here? He'll spill his guts to the next man that turns his head and this place becomes less of a secret than your new fancies. What's he got that makes him so special that you'd put us all at risk? A tight fuckhole?" 
The words were so venomous and personal that Jaskier just stood there, red in the face, and stared. Geralt didn't say a word to defend him, he just lowered his sword and frowned. It took him a moment to realise Geralt wasn't going to say anything, maybe he'd been wrong about the way Geralt felt for him.
"Well, it was an absolute joy meeting you, Eskel. I hope the stew gives you a chronic case of the shits. Geralt- "He tugged the blanket from around his shoulders, and tossed it into the Witcher's arms, making sure to do it with enough force that it was almost a punch. "You can find yourself another tight fuck-hole, and while your at it, you can jump off the fucking mountain."
He turned on his heal and strode away with a surprisingly straight posture and high held chin. Geralt had always admired his ability to bounce the insults off him, but he felt that this wasn't going to bounce this time. He watched as the familiar coat and lute vanished down the corridor and then he turned back to Eskel.