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One of Aiden’s first memories is running up to his mother to show her that his soul mark had changed. His mark until then had been a match to his parents’, but in a fuzzy grey instead of the clear and colourful sheep they both shared. But now his mark had changed to match his little sister’s butterfly. His little sister who he loved so dearly, his favourite person in the world even though she was still just a baby. Her mark was a beautiful yellow butterfly, a swallowtail and his grey one had shifted to match the shape.
Aiden proudly announced to his family that it meant he and his sister would get to stay together forever. He was so happy, but his father grabbed his arm so roughly that Aiden couldn’t help crying out in pain, then swore and stormed out the door.
In the weeks that followed, the mark on Aiden’s arm grew clearer and clearer, but it never gained colour. His mother made him cover it and his father stopped talking to him. Aiden was only four years old and didn’t understand what was so wrong with loving his sister. She was the most precious thing in the whole world, or course he would love her!
And then the Witcher came and took him away.
Years later, Guxart would tell him why he was given up to pay a contract: his parents feared what it would mean to have a son and daughter fated to be together. When a griffin came and started preying on the town’s flocks they went to the town elder and offered their son in order to separate their children. The elder agreed because it would save the town money. Guxart took him because he knew how that kind of fear can turn to cruelty, and hoped taking the child would protect him from humanity’s hatred of anything - anyone - different.
It wouldn’t have even mattered. After weeks apart from his family, Aiden’s mark began to blur once more. It stayed vaguely butterfly shaped and on days where he was particularly homesick it would grow clearer again, but it never held the same clear lines as before. After a year it had faded so much it merely looked like a bruise on the inside of his elbow. He trained to be a Witcher and he forgot about his family.
As he grew, Aiden began to make new friends with the other boys in the caravan. There was a younger boy, Gaetan, who had a mark that looked like a snake coiled around his wrist, and two older boys, Axel and Cedric. Their soul marks matched, a pair of wildcats on their shoulders. The school’s trainers would always shake their heads when they saw the two of them together. They warned the pair that it was likely one or both of them would die in the trials, but Axel and Cedric didn’t care.
If Aiden’s mark kept shifting between a wildcat and a snake, no one knew. He made sure to keep it covered just like his mother taught him. The mark never changed places and it never gained colour and Aiden knew that there was something wrong with him because no one else had a mark like his.
The four of them all survived their trials, but others of his friends didn’t, and he tried not to think too hard about them because otherwise the grief became too much to bear. They all spend a few years learning how to adjust to their new bodies and then one by one they went out on the Path to become real Witchers and slay monsters.
Once Aiden was alone again, separated from his school and his brothers, his mark went back to being an indistinct smudge. He experimented intentionally this time and discovered that thinking about one of his friends could make his mark shift to match theirs again, but he didn’t do that too often because he knew it was too strange and unnatural.
He had realised, of course, that his mark was just broken. And when he was honest with himself, it was a bit of a relief. Because after seeing more of the world, the whole soulmate thing wasn’t all that appealing. He only had to walk in on Axel and Cedric once to realise that the physical aspect wasn’t for him, and he was still confused about why the two of them enjoy it so much. Every now and then he considered going to a brothel, just to see what the fuss was about, but when the opportunity came he could never bring himself to want to, if he even remembered in the first place.
It wasn’t just sex. He knew from some whispered conversations with his brothers that they longed for things he never cared about. Gaetan would stroke the scales of his snake reverently and confess that he was lonely. That he wanted someone to truly be his . To love and be loved in return. Aiden loved his brothers and was perfectly content with that, but clearly that wasn’t the sort of thing Gaetan meant.
Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, that because his mark was broken he convinced himself that he didn’t need a soulmate, or perhaps his mark merely reflected that something inside himself was broken, and had been from the start. But Aiden was a Witcher, and Witchers are warned not to expect much from their soulmates, so he was alright with never knowing. He would just focus on his job and if he ended up saving money by not spending it on whores, that was only a benefit.
Years went by where he never even thought about the mark. Even though it could pass as a bruise, he kept it covered just like his mama taught him. Everything was fine.
And then he met the Wolf Witcher.
He doesn’t know the Wolf’s name, at first. Aiden was innocently scanning a town’s noticeboard when a tall, broad Witcher with slicked-back hair, rakish facial scars, and a scowl that would curdle milk planted himself next to the board and interrupted Aiden’s perusal.
“I’ve already taken the contract, so you can piss off,” the unknown Witcher barked.
“Excuse me?” Aiden asked.
Somehow, the frown deepened into something more hostile, “On the fucking ogre. I’ve already taken the contract to break the fucking curse.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow and tapped the notice he’d been eyeing. “This is asking for someone to kill the ogre.”
“Well, there’s two rich assholes posturing over who can be the one to get rid of the fucking ogre, and the one to cure it pays more, and I already took it, so you can fuck off.”
“Counter offer: I take the contract to kill the ogre, and whoever gets there first -” Aiden was cut off by a large group of men that came tearing into the square chasing a man in brightly coloured silks.
The man made an impressive jump onto the statue in the main square and from there leapt onto the top of a market stall before clambering onto the roof of a house. The leaps were doubly impressive since the man seemed to have a large and awkwardly shaped case on his back. Once he reached the top the man turned around to see if he was being followed.
The leader of the group of men rounded on a town guard. Aiden noticed with interest that he was a white flame priest. He pointed at the man on the roof and announced, “You there, go after him! This man is an abomination! Not content with his own Maker’s Mark, he has learned the foul art of stealing them from others! I have seen the second mark on his skin and I demand he be burned at the stake as an offence against the Flame!”
“You’re only upset because you saw my soul marks while I was fucking your wife!” the alleged abomination replied, “Melitele blessed me from birth with two marks as I have a heart full of love to give. Unlike you, who can’t even satisfy his own soulmate!”
The priest grabbed a pot from a nearby vendor and lobbed it at the man on the roof, who wisely turned and ran. The group still on the ground took off after him and disappeared down a narrow street.
Aiden snorted and shook his head. “Humans are so weird about their soul marks,” he idly remarked.
He’d honestly forgotten about the Wolf so he was surprised when he replied, “Tell me about it. That cuck could have blamed the damned dandy for being an adulterer, but instead he had to make up some bullshit about stealing marks ‘cause he thought that would get him more sympathy.”
“Exactly! There is so much more to life than a soulmark, but that’s all anyone cares about!” Aiden ranted, “I don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with them.”
“Yeah,” the Wolf agreed. He looked Aiden up and down, scowl replaced by something assessing, “If you help me try to break the curse, I’ll split the fee with you. Then when it inevitably goes tits up, I’ll help you kill the damned thing if you’ll agree to split the other contract with me too.”
It was Aiden’s turn to assess the Wolf, and he decided, “What the hell. Why not? I'm Aiden.”
“Lambert,” the Wolf introduced himself with a smirk.
They ended up having to kill the ogre, but Lambert’s client had paid part of the fee up-front, so even split two ways it was worth the work. Aiden enjoyed fighting with Lambert. His fight style was different but complementary to his own and they made a surprisingly good team. Lambert even invited him out for a drink afterwards and it turned out they got along well outside of the battlefield too.
Aiden wasn’t sure how it happened, but he ended up running into Lambert often enough that the two of them decided to just travel together. They preferred doing different camping tasks, but liked things done in similar ways so they could divide their labour in a way that satisfied both of them.
Aiden also found Lambert endlessly amusing, since the man could spend hours ranting on any topic under the sun. He always had a creative and profane opinion that he could talk about at length. Aiden learned soon after meeting him how to set him off, and then he could sit back and listen to the resulting lecture. It was always very informative.
The two of them would talk about everything and anything - except for their soul marks.
After that first meeting, the topic never came up again. Aiden was content with that, he didn’t like talking about his mark and it was clear that Lambert didn’t like to either. Sometimes a tavern bard or naive client would wax poetic about soulmates and true love, but whenever that happened Lambert would grimace or roll his eyes at Aiden and Aiden would laugh and roll his eyes right back.
Lambert had a scar on his chest, right over his heart. It wasn’t the clear, blank skin that mages got after their ascension wiped away their marks, this one looked like an intentional burn. Aiden had managed to see a lot of the Wolf in their time together, and he was reasonably sure that Lambert used to have a mark there. He didn’t know how or why the mark was burnt off, but he understood that it was a touchy subject and avoided mentioning it.
Aiden had almost forgotten that soul marks existed, until he was washing himself in an unpleasantly cold river and noticed that his mark had changed to a shape he had never seen before. Instead of the grey smudge, there was a sun or possibly a starburst. It suited his fiery, explosive friend. But Lambert didn’t like soulmates and Aiden didn’t know how to explain his changeable mark, so as soon as he was clean Aiden covered the mark again and pretended it wasn’t there at all.
The two of them grew closer, grew comfortable enough to get more tactile with each other. Aiden discovered that it was quite comfortable to sit tucked up against Lambert’s side. When he went back to the caravan in the winters, his mark would flip between Lambert’s starburst and his brothers’ snake and wild cat, but he never showed anyone so it was fine.
And then the damned basilisk sliced his arm open.
It should have been an easy hunt for two Witchers, but somehow the beast got its fangs into Aiden’s arm and tore three long gashes from elbow to wrist, severing an artery. The blood arched out of the cut and Aiden had to duck out of the fight to put pressure on the wound. It wasn’t life threatening, for a Witcher at least, but he was going to have to staunch the bleeding before he could do anything else.
Luckily for Aiden, Lambert was able to kill the basilisk and retrieve their medical supplies for him, cursing the Cat School’s preference for “absolutely idiotic sleevless fucking armour” while he was at it.
Lambert uncorked a bottle of Swallow, and shoved Aiden’s hand out of the way so he could pour it into the wound, which thankfully stopped the worst of the bleeding. Lambert grabbed his suture kit and began stitching the worst of the cuts. When he got closer to the crease of Aiden’s elbow, he brushed aside the fabric covering Aiden’s mark, and froze.
It was only for a second but Aiden caught it. Sudden panic seized him. He had never wanted Lambert to see the soul mark and he was terrified that it was going to make Lambert leave. He didn’t want Lambert to hate him for wearing the mark that Lambert didn’t even have anymore.
Aiden grabbed Lambert's arm and pleaded, "Lambert, that's not what you think it is."
Lambert scowled and pushed Aiden’s hand away. He was staring at the mark, refusing to look him in the eye. "And what do I think it is?" He snarked.
"It's not a soul mark, not a real one, it's broken. It's not -" Aiden swallowed. "It's not because I'm in love with you."
Lambert's face contorted in a way Aiden had never seen. In the even voice that Lambert only used when he was truly livid he said, "Do you have to love me to let me sew up your fucking arm?"
Aiden shook his head mutely.
"Then shut up and stay fucking still."
Aiden bit his lip and watched as Lambert finished suturing the rest of the cuts on his arm in complete silence. There was none of the bitching and complaining that usually disguised Lambert’s care and worry - Aiden had fucked up so badly that even Lambert couldn’t curse about it. He should have told Lambert sooner. Lambert should never have found out like this.
Lambert wrapped a bandage around Aiden’s arm and packed up the medical supplies. The two of them collected their trophy and found a river to wash up in before going back to town.
Once Lambert had washed all of Aiden’s blood off his hands he finally spoke. It was just one word, an instruction that Aiden didn’t even know how to start following: “Explain.”
Aiden took a deep breath, trying to find the words to describe his broken mark for the first time. He instinctively covered it with his other hand, hiding it from Lambert’s sight.
“My mark is broken. Most of the time it’s just nothing - a smudge - but sometimes it changes to look like the marks on the people close to me.”
“So it just changes every time you get near someone?”
“No, not near. I don’t have to be near the person. It changes for the people I -” Aiden couldn’t look at Lambert when he said this. Instead he stared at the sunlight on the water. “People who are important to me.” He heard Lambert’s sharp intake of breath, but he couldn’t stop to face whatever Lambert’s reaction was going to be. “It started with my sister. That’s why I was given to the Witchers. My parents didn’t want children who were fated to be soulmates, you know? Can’t blame ‘em for that. Then in the caravan it started mimicking Axel and Cedric’s and then Gaetan’s. And now it does yours. But it’s not real ,” It was essential that Lambert understood that, “It’s not love, not the way the bards tell it - unless they’re all dirty liars.”
“That’s better than the way the bards tell it.” Lambert said.
Aiden was so shocked that he whirled around to face Lambert. “What?” he demanded.
“Your sister, and your brothers… Loving them is just as important as loving a soulmate. People should talk about that more. A soulmate shouldn’t be the only thing that makes someone happy.”
Hearing that from Lambert cracked something inside of him that Aiden hadn’t even known was hurting. But there was something more important to ask first, “You’re not mad?”
Lambert tilted his head in a way that normally reminded Aiden of a puppy. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because I have your mark when yours is” - Aiden rubbed his own chest to indicate Lambert’s scar.
Lambert snorted and smirked in a way that was clearly trying to be nonchalant but didn’t quite make it. He unlaced his shirt enough to uncover the scar and began tracing the outline of it.
“I did this to myself because I was young and stupid and angry,” Lambert explained. “My soulmate was in my year at the Wolf School. We went through our trials together, just like your brothers Cedric and Axel. Except we weren’t so lucky.”
Lambert swallowed and pressed his palm flat across where the mark used to be. "He died. In the fucking trial of the fucking medallion. I didn’t think I was ever going to recover from losing him.” Lambert’s face hardened into the blackest scowl Aiden had ever seen on him and his voice changed to pure rage, “Then one of the sadistic fucking asshole trainers told me I would never find love or happiness again without a soulmate. But I'm a contrary bastard so I thought fuck that . I'll never stop loving Volthere, but he wouldn't want me to be fucking miserable for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be a betrayal to love someone else too.
"So no, Aiden,” Lambert said, looking straight into Aiden’s eyes, “I'm not mad that your mark looks like mine. It doesn’t matter to me if its true fucking love like the bards tell it or if you think of me as another brother. I’m happy to see it again after so long and I’m honoured that I’m important enough to you that it would change for me."
Aiden tried to breathe through the lump that had formed in his throat. He was too close to tears to be able to talk. Instead he stumbled towards Lambert, who caught him in a hug.
Lambert wasn't angry at him. He wasn't going to leave because of something Aiden had no control over. The relief that Aiden felt was staggering.
Aiden sobbed into Lambert's armour and the Wolf just held him close and rested his cheek on Aiden's head. His dear friend rocked him gently back and forth whispering words of reassurance until Aiden could pull himself back together.
"How did you get so good at this shit?" Aiden joked, wiping the tears off his cheeks.
"It's because all the self-doubts in my head sound like Master fucking Varin , and I never listened to that assface as a trainee so I'm sure as fuck not going to start now."
Aiden laughed for real this time and observed, "Only you would learn emotional maturity out of spite."
"Damn straight," Lambert agreed. "Now come on, I think the two of us deserve to get very drunk."
Aiden was relieved to discover that his confession didn't change anything between them. They still made an excellent team as monster hunters and travel companions. Lambert was his dearest friend, the person who he could tell anything to, who he could be himself around.
He also discovered the joy of cuddling with his Wolf pup without the expectation that it would turn into anything more.
Aiden felt more settled in his skin. He found the courage to show his mark to his brothers who were delighted by the proof of their friendship. Aiden never bothered covering his mark anymore. He prefered to watch as it cycled through the symbols of all of his loved ones.