Meet Me In Posada

Chapter 3

The main hall of Kaer Morhen looks exactly what Julian would expect from a centuries old witcher castle. The ceilings are impossibly high, the stone walls covered in weapons and trophies and banners displaying the Wolf School emblem. A large hearth sits at the wall opposite of the entrance with a bearskin rug lying in front of it. The room houses several long tables with benches to seat the many witchers that once roamed the halls, though now the only one in use is the table towards the kitchen doors where the delicious smell of roasting meat is wafting through the hall.

The two witchers Julian glimpsed earlier, Eskel and Lambert, sit at the far end playing a card game he doesn't recognize. They raise their heads when he and Geralt approach and his soulmate squeezes his shoulder gently before calling, "Eskel, Lambert. Meet Julian."

The other Wolves put down their cards as Geralt and Julian approach the table. Normally Julian would be nervous at the prospect of meeting his soulmate's family, but while the feeling rises within him, he also feels a sense of calm and familiarity. This body knows these men, trusts them. And the knowledge that Jaskier gets along with Geralt's family sets Julian at ease.

Lambert, the witcher that punched him earlier, offers a hand. "Nice to finally meet your younger self, Buttercup. Sorry 'bout the shiner, I hope pretty boy didn't fuss over you too much."

"Likewise," Julian says, shaking his hand. "And don't worry about it, I understand I'm normally very good with blocking."

Lambert grins. "You should be, considering that yours truly taught you everything you know. I'm the best there is."

Across the table, Eskel snickers. "More like the best at getting your ass kicked during our match this morning."

"Oh fuck you, asshole."

Eskel ignores the shove that Lambert gives him and turns to face Julian. Like his brothers, he's ruggedly handsome as well, and has a set of scars running down the right side of his face. They're brutal, but in Julian's opinion they add to the whole appearance.

"Eskel," he says, shaking Julian's hand. "Your favourite Wolf."

"Like hell you are," Lambert interjects.

"Actually, I'm quite sure I'm his favourite," Geralt rumbles, pressing a kiss to Julian's cheek.

"It's true," Julian admits sheepishly, feeling himself blush. "I'm sure your version of me loves you all dearly, but I'm afraid when it comes to Geralt there's no contest."

Eskel and Lambert share a look.

"You really are him," Lambert says, "aren't you?"

Julian nods. "I really am."

"I certainly hope so," a new voice says from the other side of the room, and Julian turns to see an older looking witcher with grey hair and a moustache enter, holding a tray of roasted vegetables. "Otherwise your punch really did knock his brains out, Lambert." He places the tray on the table before turning his attention to Julian and Geralt. "It's good to finally meet you, Julian. I'm Vesemir. Geralt has been eagerly waiting for your Swap all winter. He's been like a pup on Yule's eve."

"Oh he has, has he?" A smirk pulls at Julian's lips as he glances at Geralt.

"It's true," the witcher says with a shrug. "We knew it would happen sometime during your twenty-ninth year, but you didn't know when exactly."

Julian blinks. "I told you about my Swap?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't you?"

"You hardly shut up about it," Lambert adds.