The path the rest of the way up the mountain is treacherous, steep, and called The Killer for good reason. Only witchers could make their way safely up it, as the trail markers were too subtle for human eyes to pick up on and the harsh weather would push humans to exhaustion. Had Jaskier been on foot, he surely would've never made it on his own; the journey was hard even with a sturdy horse. They even keep him in the middle, regardless of whether they're traveling abreast or single file; both to protect him and to keep an eye on him.
The bard is quiet, too, mostly because the trip is so difficult that even his chattering mouth can't keep up. It's too cold, too hard, too everything, and more than once, Geralt is concerned that he'll have to drag the bard to Kaer Morhen on his own back. That worst case scenario doesn't come to pass, thankfully, and Jaskier manages to make it to the doorstep of the witchers' keep by his own power.
Jaskier asks him about Vesemir and the old witcher's approval, and... it's time. There is still a chance that Vesemir could reject him, tell him that he will not allow a human to set foot in Kaer Morhen. He had allowed Ciri, but she is his child surprise and they all know the foolishness of trying to stand in the way of Destiny. Jaskier has no such mandate demanding his presence at Geralt's side.
Jaskier would never make it down the mountain on his own, not now. Hell, this late in the year? Geralt didn't know if he could make it down the mountain in one piece, either. Turning him away would mean certain death, anyway, for the bard and a horrible choice for Geralt.
This possibility must run through Eskel's mind, as well, because he looks to Geralt with a tight jaw and serious face.
"Let me speak with him."
The old man must know they're here--
As he thinks this, the gate opens and standing inside of it, grey and silent in the wan late afternoon sunlight, is Vesemir. The old wolf of the mountain keep.
Geralt swings out of the saddle and approaches him, watching his former teacher's expression as his eyes go first to Eskel-- a nod, as greeting-- and then to Jaskier. Vesemir's face is composed and stoic, and the wind has picked up enough that the only scents in Geralt's nose are that of ice and snow. He has no insights.
"You've finally brought your bard," Vesemir says.
"Yes."
Geralt doesn't know if it's a good thing that Vesemir calls him his bard rather than just the bard. To be bound to a child surprise is one thing; to be bound to a human in the way that Jaskier is bound to him is something else entirely, and something they were supposed to avoid.
"I've expected this for years," he returns his gaze to Geralt, and he is still not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. "Bring him here and test him."
Eskel still hears him, even over the wind, and leans in towards Jaskier. "Go, you're needed. Try to make a good impression, yeah?"
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The bard is quiet, too, mostly because the trip is so difficult that even his chattering mouth can't keep up. It's too cold, too hard, too everything, and more than once, Geralt is concerned that he'll have to drag the bard to Kaer Morhen on his own back. That worst case scenario doesn't come to pass, thankfully, and Jaskier manages to make it to the doorstep of the witchers' keep by his own power.
Jaskier asks him about Vesemir and the old witcher's approval, and... it's time. There is still a chance that Vesemir could reject him, tell him that he will not allow a human to set foot in Kaer Morhen. He had allowed Ciri, but she is his child surprise and they all know the foolishness of trying to stand in the way of Destiny. Jaskier has no such mandate demanding his presence at Geralt's side.
Jaskier would never make it down the mountain on his own, not now. Hell, this late in the year? Geralt didn't know if he could make it down the mountain in one piece, either. Turning him away would mean certain death, anyway, for the bard and a horrible choice for Geralt.
This possibility must run through Eskel's mind, as well, because he looks to Geralt with a tight jaw and serious face.
"Let me speak with him."
The old man must know they're here--
As he thinks this, the gate opens and standing inside of it, grey and silent in the wan late afternoon sunlight, is Vesemir. The old wolf of the mountain keep.
Geralt swings out of the saddle and approaches him, watching his former teacher's expression as his eyes go first to Eskel-- a nod, as greeting-- and then to Jaskier. Vesemir's face is composed and stoic, and the wind has picked up enough that the only scents in Geralt's nose are that of ice and snow. He has no insights.
"You've finally brought your bard," Vesemir says.
"Yes."
Geralt doesn't know if it's a good thing that Vesemir calls him his bard rather than just the bard. To be bound to a child surprise is one thing; to be bound to a human in the way that Jaskier is bound to him is something else entirely, and something they were supposed to avoid.
"I've expected this for years," he returns his gaze to Geralt, and he is still not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. "Bring him here and test him."
Eskel still hears him, even over the wind, and leans in towards Jaskier. "Go, you're needed. Try to make a good impression, yeah?"