Chapter Text
The concept of a soulmate is a strange thing. To know that there is potentially someone in the world who is perfectly suited to you is exciting but can, at times, be terrifying.
A person can receive their mark at any age, it will always have a match. Never getting one is extremely rare and usually heartbreaking.
Julian Alfred Pankratz was born with his mark in 1222. A depiction of a white wolf sleeping while a nightingale sings is marked on his right shoulder blade.
The Count and Countess De Lettenhove are renowned for being against anything related to soulmates as they are not matched themselves. So when they see the mark on their newborn son it is ignored completely.
Anyone who works within the home is forbidden to speak of the subject to their only child and the nanny who ends up explaining it to him at the age of seven after a constant tirade of questions is gone the next day. Julian will never forget what she told him.
“The one who shares your mark will be someone that loves and cares for everything that you are” she whispers to him in a candlelit room. Rain falls heavily against the tall windows as Julian dreams of sleeping wolves and dappled light spilling though forest trees. When Julian begins to speak freely on the subject of soulmates his parents all but ignore him completely.
“Will they be the same age as me?”
“I hope they like the colour yellow as well”
“What if they don’t like music? That could not possibly work!”
“You and mother must be soulmates right father?”
When the Count eventually raises a hand against his only son, Julian learns to hold his tongue. Although his curiosity knows no bounds, so he seeks information from some of the few friends he has.
By the time he is sixteen he is completely enamoured by the thought of soulmates and cannot wait for the day he will meet his own.
With his mind full of ideas of love and a heart that falls too fast, Julian spends his days avoiding his parents by any means necessary and practising music in secret. The very last thing he expects is being told he is engaged.
“Mother I think I would know if I was betrothed, unless you have somehow met my soulmate before me” he says scathingly.
“Enough about soulmates Julian! This has been the arrangement since the day you were born and I’ll not hear any objections against it” her voice echoes in the dining hall and in that moment, Julian despises her.
He tries to block out her sharp voice as she tells him the details. Maria, wealthy family, good match, family name, blah blah blah. When Julian is excused he makes up his mind about something he has been considering for some time.
His parents wake to a good amount of their coin missing and the stables short a horse. The
Countess recalls memories of someone who is not her husband and wonders.
The road to Oxenfurt is long but Julian rides it with building anticipation and his thoughts filled with wolves and songbirds.
*
Most people assume that a witcher cannot possibly have a soulmate. They are mutants, inhuman and unfeeling so how could they possibly feel love for another? Well, all of those people would be wrong.
Most witchers will get their mark after suffering through and surviving the trail of grasses. Any who are already marked when they are taken in as children will almost always die. It can sometimes take decades or even centuries for a mark to show, there are even cases of a human being a witcher’s soulmate and living through their entire life never meeting them.
Geralt of Rivia is not interested in soulmates at all. While believing that none could love someone so monstrous, the life of a witcher is always dangerous. He thrives while travelling alone with only Roach to converse with, it is the only life he knows how to live.
Winters at Kaer Morhen are something for Geralt to look forward to. Although Vesemir works them hard , spending time training and drinking with his brothers is a breath of fresh air. Geralt’s time there does sometimes come with regrets, namely drinking through the night with Eskel and Lambert.
“This happens every time we get together” Eskel mumbles in-between bouts of vomiting outside the fortress. Lambert stumbles over and tries to pat him on the back, but ends up falling against the stone wall.
“Cheer up Eskel! You could be drinking with only your horse for company”
“I’d rather the fucking horse”
Eskel throws up again and Lambert starts to laugh hysterically. Geralt watches them with his head swimming.
“Come on Eskel, you’re hurting our feelings” He slurs, which makes Lambert laugh harder and Eskel flip him off. When they eventually drag themselves back inside out of the snow, Geralt feels a sharp pain in his arm. He stops and stares at it while the others stumble ahead, with Eskel leaning on Lambert for support.
“Hey Geralt come and help will you! He’s fucking heavy!” Lambert yells. Eskel punches him in the ribs and they both fall to the ground where they start to drunkenly smack at each other. Geralt forgets the pain for now and goes to pull his brothers apart.
The next morning is painful and full of regret for all three of them. Vesemir, of course, takes no pity on them and puts all three to work as normal. Geralt is trying to block out Lambert’s whining while bringing more firewood into the fortress when he feels another pain in his forearm.
He drops the wood next to one of the roaring fires and rolls up a sleeve. It takes a while to register what he sees, Lambert is questioning him distantly. A white wolf lies sleeping on his right forearm while what looks like a nightingale flies above carrying a yellow flower in its beak. It cannot be anything but a soul-mark and Geralt is floored, after almost a century of being a witcher he did not expect this, nor did her want it to happen.
Geralt recalls the contracts he has taken in the past, soulmates who have has their other half ripped apart by one monster or another. He would return after slaying the beast to find a person suffering through he worst grief one could ever experience, like a sword in the chest and after, a feeling of complete emptiness.
The life of a witcher is full of constant danger and Geralt would never subject some poor soul to the life of pain and heartbreak that follows him like a shadow. He decided long ago that if he ever received a soulmate it would mean nothing and he would carry on along the Path alone, as it should be.
“Melitele’s tits is that what I think it is?”
Geralt is snapped out of his thoughts by Lambert yelling in his ear. He scowls.
“No”
“Oh come on Geralt don’t give me that shit. After all these years I didn’t think you- hey get back here!”
Geralt stalks outside before Lambert can finish and finds himself at the stable after some time. The four horses are standing quietly in their stalls but Eskel’s young stallion pins his ears back as Geralt walks past, he pays him no mind. Roach hears him approaching and nickers softly. Geralt fills a bucket with oats and works to brush her while she eats.
The mark on his arm still burns a little and Geralt can’t help but wonder which unfortunate person he shares half of his soul with. Roach seems to sense his mood and looks up from her food to nudge him in the chest. Geralt smiles a little and strokes her soft nose, he always feels a small amount of comfort in her company.
Eventually he has to return to the keep and spots Eskel sharpening his swords outside in the fading light. Geralt considers avoiding him but ultimately decides against it.
“Your horse tried to fucking bite me again”
Eskel snorts.
“Yeah he does that, bit Lambert on the ass a few days ago”
That image alone cheers Geralt up a little. Eskel finishes with his swords and looks up at him. Geralt sighs.
“Lambert told you didn’t he”
“‘course he did, so what are you gonna do?”
“Nothing”
“Geralt-“
“I’m not about to ruin some poor bastards life and drag them down the Path with me, it’s better if I never meet them, might give them a chance to have a good life”
“Well shouldn’t they at least get a say? There is a chance they might not be human you know. Might be useful to have a witch or mage as a soulmate”
“It makes no difference Eskel, our lives are on the Path and there isn’t room for anything else, you know that”
Eskel frowns and stares at him for a moment before sighing.
“All right have it your way then. You coming inside?”
Geralt nods and follows him to the hall where Vesemir and Lambert are already eating. Lambert spots Geralt and opens his mouth to say something but stops when Vesemir shoots him a look.
That night, Geralt can’t sleep as usual so he spends some time studying his mark. The wolf must be the image that depicts him and the small nightingale his soulmate. He feels something akin to sadness when he covers it with a strip of cloth, but ignores the feeling.
When the snow starts to melt and the sun gives more warmth, Geralt rides out of Kaer Morhen. The air is still crisp but the sun is bright and Roach seems to be happy to be on the road again, Geralt pats her dark brown neck and she snorts. A nightingale sings from one of the tall trees, Geralt pays it no mind.