#i am so ready to unravel jaskier's reality | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordsablaze · 3 years

Text

12/13 - shared earworms

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: his last misunderstanding, thank the stars... @alllthequeenshorses @eskel-loves-lilbleater

previous chapter

Oxenfurt is magical.

And no, that isn’t just Jaskier being dramatic, the city truly is far more magical than people give it credit for.

When Jaskier had first arrived, he’d had no idea how some bards could spontaneously burst into a duet with no preparation whatsoever. And he’d had no idea how some students could enter a classroom and start humming the next verse to something another student had started humming several minutes back. For a long time, he’d had no idea how some people could be so in sync with each other.

It hadn’t taken long to work it out.

It wasn’t that every couple in the city somehow happened to be incredibly talented at picking up on body language or anything like that, it was just that they could literally hear each other’s singing. And humming. And composing. And generally most musical thoughts.

“How is everyone doing this?” he’d asked his professor during one lecture or the other.

The professor had laughed and handed him a book from his personal library. “It’s not something that can be learned, boy, it’s magic.”

At that, Jaskier had frowned. “What kind of magic?”

“The oldest kind there is, of course,” his professor had replied, “the magic of destiny.”

Jaskier’s grip on the book had tightened painfully as he’d nodded and politely excused himself back to his room, where he’d thrown the book on his bed and flopped onto the floor with a groan; of course this would be a Destiny thing, just his luck.

The book remained untouched for months.

“The professor must have felt really sorry for you if you have this,” Alfie tells him near the end of the semester, picking up the book that had very quickly moved from the bed to his desk, where it was being used more as a paperweight than anything else.

Jaskier hums. “Why do you say that?”

Alfie raises an eyebrow, chucking the book at Jaskier. “Because everyone knows about soulmates. How don’t you?”

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier groans inwardly. He’d been avoiding the subject altogether but not having returned the book meant he had to come up with some kind of excuse to get him out of receiving everyone’s pity or judgement.

“I do!” Jaskier argues, “I was merely waiting until I’d finished my ballad on the matter before returning his book.”

“Oh? A secret assignment?” Alfie grins, easily convinced by Jaskier’s lies.

Jaskier nods, glancing between him and the book. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I believe you have your own soulmate you ought to be dancing with though, don’t you?”

At that, Alfie smiles so wide it looks as though his face is in danger of splitting right open. “Lena is as much of a gossip as I am, we both know she’d be delighted if I turned up with news of the infamous Jaskier’s new ballad.”

“Consider yourself fortunate to be so knowledgeable then,” Jaskier says with a smirk that’s filled with none of the confidence he has in this ballad he’s now obliged to compose. “But don’t expect any other hints to be divulged just yet.”

“Alright, keep your secrets!”

And Jaskier does, though he spends the next week pouring over the book until his head feels like it’s filled with clouds. The ballad is exceptional but the strange look his professor gives him is filled with enough concern to keep him away from classes for another two weeks.

Only once does he get to experience it for himself, in the middle of Belleteyn.

He’s sat around a small campfire with a group of other bards, listening to Essi attempt getting through a longer ballad whilst slightly tipsy. He’d been supporting her, of course, prompting her the lyrics when she forgot them through the haze of wine, when he’s abruptly pulled into an old elder poem - it’s sad and beautiful and most importantly, it’s not one that he knows. And yet, he finds himself mumbling the words as they appear in his head, accompanied by what sounds like humming.

“Jaskier? What’s next?” Essi asks, giggling even as she frowns in concentration.

But he waves her off, springing to his feet and stumbling over to where he’d put his bag, starting to write the poem down in his journal as if his life depended on it. To be fair, he’d thought his love life might have at the time. He doesn’t realise how frantically he’s scribbling until the humming abruptly stops and he catches up with himself only to realise his hand is stained grey and his knees are damp from having knelt right on the wet grass.

“No no no, come back,” he mutters to himself, then quietly starts singing the ballad of the lovers who met under the spring arches.

He’s running before he knows it, ignoring the way the others call after him and breathing heavily as he makes his way to the towering arches of ivy in the academy courtyard; everyone who’s been to the city even just once knows of them and he hopes his soulmate takes the hint. But the warmth he’d been feeling fades.

Grateful for the darkness, he sinks to his knees once he’s been through the song three times and there’s still no sight of anyone nearby. Then he curses loudly, feeling foolish to even hope for such a whimsical turn of events; he should have known better than to get his hopes up, especially considering everything else he knows about whoever he has the pleasure of sharing all but his soul with.

He avoids the arches as much as he can.

“Have you ever been to Oxenfurt?” Jaskier asks Geralt as they enter Redania together, years and years later.

Geralt shrugs. “It’s loud. Too many people, not enough monsters.”

“Only you would complain about a lack of life-threatening circumstances, my dear,” Jaskier replies, but he can’t help his disappointment.

There’s no way he can force Geralt to accompany him to Oxenfurt just to test some ancient theory but at least he can be comforted by the knowledge that he must have passed through on at least one occasion if he knows what the city is like - perhaps the elder poem had been a hint at their adventures in Posada, he thinks.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need Oxenfurt’s approval to love Geralt and he certainly has nothing to prove to any professors. Besides, he can’t imagine there would be any point in Geralt hearing him perform both out loud and within his mind at the same time; if anything, that would only make matters worse.

Either way, he never stays in Oxenfurt long enough to dwell on it. And nor does he need to when he has so much else to fall back on if he’s ever in doubt; there’s no point in him chasing more evidence when he’s already found the only conclusion he’ll ever need.

(little did he know his conclusion would inevitably be disproven.)

i really played around with this so ik it’s not the typical earworm trope but please ignore that bc i am tired and just happy for jaskier to stop being an idiot - next up, Destiny metaphorically punching one (1) bard in the face ;)

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #the witcher #hurt jaskier #fanfiction #soulmate au #endgame jaskel #angst #i am so ready to unravel jaskier's reality #and we can finally apologise to poor eskel for the chaos #i just have to decide if i'm gonna go about it in an angsty or fluffy way #either way i'll try and make it worth this mess ;)#my writing #add

10 notes · View notes