Work Text:
the song you know's begun
Witchers don't have soulmarks.
It's branded into them from childhood. Witchers don't make those kind of connections, they would just get in the way of the work that needs to be done. Unnecessary attachments must be purged.
It's easy for Geralt to forget in his excitement.
"Don't be foolish, child," Geralt is told, when he shows the wolf on his forearm to Vesemir, full of hope that it means something, that he is in some way important to this man. "Witchers don't have soulmarks."
Geralt is nine, and will soon face the Trial of the Grasses. He doesn't want to disappoint Vesemir. He moves the Mark to somewhere even he cannot see it, and hopes it will fade before anyone else realises how badly he failed.
When Geralt meets Renfri, he has lived for so many decades as a Witcher that he almost believes the lies himself; Witchers do not have emotions, Witchers cannot feel. Witchers never have soulmarks, and to form one would be a sign of weakness. It isn't something he thinks about, but he accepts it as fact.
After Renfri dies, and Geralt is chased out of Blaviken like a beast, he doesn't notice the sting on the inside of his wrist. Not until several days later does he see the imprint of her brooch grinning up at him ghoulishly from his sword arm; he's not sure if it's encouraging him or mocking him.
He doesn't try and move it. Renfri has earned the right to sit on his wrist, to remind him each time he draws his sword that the luxury not to choose between the greater and the lesser evil is something he should never assume.
Maybe most Witchers don't have soulmarks. Maybe they shouldn't. But Geralt does.
Jaskier has more soulmarks than anyone Geralt has ever met. They never seem to stay for long - Geralt sees vines twisting around Jaskier's wrist one day, and the next the vines are gone and instead a jewel-coloured snake is curling into his palm, and then the third day there are flowers twining through his fingers.
He doesn't ask - mostly because he's sure Jaskier will tell him, and he doesn't much care to hear the sordid details - but if his observations are correct, Jaskier falls deeply and sincerely in love with at least three people in any given week, and at least one of any given three feels the same way about him. Sometimes he goes through love affairs at a rate that's frankly alarming, but his inclination to bed almost anything that looks at him twice is apparently moved as much by his heart as by his libido.
Geralt hasn't seen many soulmarks in his life besides the wolf he lost and the brooch he cannot seem to lose, but it seems to him that Jaskier's soulmarks are... more flamboyant than most. More colourful, more wild and expressive, even if they never last. More (though he would never admit this to Jaskier aloud) beautiful than Geralt even knew soulmarks could be. He sometimes wonders if Jaskier ever wishes the artwork that splashes over his skin would last more than hours or days or weeks. (He's yet to see one last longer than a fortnight, and while his experience is at one remove, he's sure that's unusual.)
Jaskier seems quite content, though, welcoming Marks as if the people they represent changed his life, then hardly seeming to notice when they vanish, so Geralt keeps his own counsel and tries to ignore his curiosity.
Geralt hadn't had a soulmark since he was a child, and until Jaskier, he hadn't even spent long periods of time around others who do. He doesn't really know what to expect; Witchers aren't supposed to get soulmarks, let alone one that's retained after death. But then, he might have been misled.
(He is older and wiser now than when he was taught to suppress all connection, much less inclined to turn to Vesemir or any other Witcher for advice on such a matter, or to be concerned whether or not they would approve.)
What he learns about Marks, he learns from Jaskier, but in his own way, Jaskier and his profound but fleeting attachments are just as strange, as different, as a Witcher with a soulmark he shouldn't be able to form. So Geralt forgets that the Mark can change, if he ever knew to begin with.
He expects that grin to be his companion forever; if he got it in defiance of Witcher habit and after Renfri died, he can only assume the reminder is for him to do better, to be better, not to make the same mistake again, and he doesn't expect that need to fade anytime soon.
Then (to his shock) the Mark changes after he frees the striga. The change is small, he can't pin the subtleties down, but it... softens.
Whether it's because Renfri has forgiven him, or he's begun to forgive himself, he couldn't even guess, but it starts to look less like an accusatory face and more like a piece of jewellery worn by a princess whose short life deserves to be remembered.
At first, Geralt assumes the latest of Jaskier's soulmarks is the same as all the rest, a temporary infatuation, though it's oddly subdued compared to others Geralt's seen on Jaskier's body.
It is beautiful still, but its beauty is stark and oddly desolate, unlike the warm colours Geralt's used to seeing. A series of shadows dappling the small of Jaskier's back; Geralt can't tell if it's winter sun through trees, musical notation, or animal footprints in the snow.
He sees it for the first time entirely by accident, when he comes back to the room they're sharing to find Jaskier half-undressed and peering over his shoulder to look at his own back in the mirror. Of course; Jaskier is used to soulmarks, more than most humans, so the stinging of formation must be entirely familiar by now.
Jaskier seems baffled by the Mark, frowning at his reflection, and for once Geralt is tempted to ask. He doesn't, of course - even Witchers aren't that rude. He does laugh quite a lot when Jaskier sees him in the mirror, squawks like a dying pig, and grabs his doublet to hold up in front of himself. "Geralt! I didn't hear you!"
"Evidently," Geralt agrees with a slow blink and a smirk.
Jaskier's turned a fetching shade of pink as far down as Geralt can see. Then he glances back at the mirror, makes another amusing squeaking noise, and drops his doublet in favour of slipping his chemise over his head. He's not usually prudish at all, has been known to parade around naked after a bath, which makes it all the more entertaining that he's suddenly developed a modest streak.
They stare at each other for a moment, then Jaskier takes in Geralt's stained clothes and starts quizzing him about the hunt as he helps Geralt out of his armour, and Geralt forgets about the soulmark altogether.
What with Jaskier's incessant questions and the myriad minor wounds he sustained during the fight, Geralt doesn't even notice the sting on his ankle, much less the tiny, delicate buttercup that's etched itself into his skin.
~ fin ~