Chapter Text
The first time anyone thought something was wrong with Jaskier, he had no idea what they meant.
His mother told him he was too slow and he thought she meant with his studies, so he tried to learn everything there was to know about lineage and hierarchy and tradition. But she was never satisfied and Jaskier was just young enough to simply be confused.
His father told him he was too slow and he thought he meant in his training, so he tried to learn as much as he could about weapons and fighting and self-defence. But he wasn’t satisfied either and Jaskier soon felt disappointment mixing in with his confusion.
Jaskier’s confusion only continued as he grew.
Sometimes his siblings would take roughly his wrist and laugh. Or grimace, which was somehow much worse. And Jaskier would always snap back at them to just go away because that was his soulmate they were mocking and he wouldn’t stand for it, thank you very much.
Eventually, someone - the kind-hearted gardener who felt bad for him, of all people - explained that the rhythm he felt on his wrist was meant to be his soulmate’s heartbeat.
That the second pulse he could feel was meant to be just like his own, an echo that proves the existence of the most important person in his life.
And that his was too slow.
Suffice to say, Jaskier did his best to hide his wrists from anyone after finding that out.
It wasn’t because he was embarrassed of his soulmate, he just felt oddly defensive about people declaring his matching half as monstrous or defective or occasionally, when people were feeling particularly cruel, dead.
So he took to hiding his hands behind his back or wearing clothes that distracted people from questioning his fate. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to pretend he wasn’t soothed by the slower melody of his soulmate’s existence but he was so tired of hearing the rumours that he was tied to someone only half-alive.
That is, until there was a local werewolf problem and Jaskier was introduced to the world of witchers.
Because, oh, don’t mutations perfectly explain a slow heartbeat?
Of course, he didn’t get a chance to talk to the witcher who’d helped them. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn more about them from forbidden books he could trade for, conspiratorial whispers during banquets, and passing travellers who helped him accept that his fate was just different, not wrong.
Which is why it was so easy for him to leave his family behind.
Well, it was actually a rather complicated and messy series of arguments, broken household items, and seething glares so sharp they rivalled a freshly-made sword. But one way or the other - and it was definitely the other - Jaskier managed to leave.
He ran and left his title, his status, his entire life behind.
The only thing he regretted was making his witcher suffer through the many times his own pulse had been racing so fast that he could barely tell each beat apart. It couldn’t have been pleasant, he assumed, for someone who was naturally used to a heartbeat so much slower.
And then he finds Geralt.
Who doesn’t seem to hear his pulse racing as he says, “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.” But possibly that’s just Geralt being Geralt, Jaskier concludes after their very strange first conversation.
It takes years but eventually, Geralt accepts his presence.
Jaskier is a fool of a romantic at heart and so obviously, he falls over himself in his haste to love.
In his defence, it’s absolutely logical for Geralt to be his soulmate.
Geralt seems to be there to save him from his own misadventures or whichever creature has decided to try and eat him far too often for it to be coincidence - how else would he know when Jaskier might need a hand if he can’t hear his heartbeat?
And sure, there are times where Jaskier’s heart is racing and Geralt doesn’t comment on it, but he chalks that up to him trying to be supportive rather than focusing on whatever is troubling him. After all, Geralt is right - there’s no need to discuss Jaskier worrying about a performance because he hardly ever fails one.
“You seem oddly calm for someone who almost fell off a cliff,” Geralt comments one day, and Jaskier wants to laugh.
He wants to, but he can’t breathe because almost falling off a cliff had been one of the scariest moments of his life and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. He’s so shaken that it takes him a while to realise Geralt is simply trying to reassure him, probably waiting for him to realise he’s fine.
“I’m still alive, right?” he manages eventually.
Geralt smiles - actually properly smiles - at him, and Jaskier knows he was right to assume Geralt cares for him. It’s pretty much a privilege to see the White Wolf smile and he’s grateful for it all the time.
As their fame increases, they’re invited to a banquet in Cintra.
It goes about as well as expected until it abruptly goes so, so much worse.
Geralt starts talking about elves and Jaskier feels his pulse spike because doesn’t he know about Queen Calanthe and her history with them? Thankfully, Geralt must feel his panic because he looks over to Jaskier and, after a very long moment, changes the topic before revealing the truth.
And Jaskier is just grateful they’re soulmates.
He can’t really fault Geralt for leaving Cintra without a backwards glance because Geralt and Destiny have a complicated relationship to say the least, so he just finds solace in the slow pulsing on his wrist.
In the knowledge that Geralt is waiting for him somewhere.
And in the knowledge that Geralt so rarely panics even when things seem to be going wrong, which makes him an incredibly stable source of comfort.
His family was absolutely wrong, Jaskier decides, to think that being destined for a witcher is akin to a curse; he’s never felt safer than when he’s with Geralt, than when he can feel his soulmate both within him and beside him.
(little did he know he'd never actually been beside his soulmate.)