Chapter Text
Sofia awoke the way she always does, with butterflies around her and her chipmunk nestled into her stomach. She exhaled deeply, her stomach moving and waking the little creature. The monarchs flew away, the sound of their wings almost enough to lull her back to sleep. Almost.
“Time to get up, Tom” she whispered, gently caressing the small chipmunk’s head. The little nose twitched and two black eyes opened slowly, with clear intent to just close again. Giving a small giggle, Sofia placed a gentle kiss on it’s head and sat up, stretching languidly.
She had stayed up last night, far later than she should have, tracing the beautiful patterns etched into her skin. She would never tire of her buttercups and lilies. Smiling softly, she brushes back a lock of fiery red hair behind her ear and she gently presses against the flower she knows is there. The single lily.
As she walked towards her small bath she heard quiet chittering and felt the tiny hands of her familiar climbing up to her shoulder. She chuckled, gave him another peck on the head and moved the curtain of chrysanthemums and readied the lavender water. Settling into it, she twisted her long hair atop her head and cleaned each ‘bouquet’ on her body as delicately as one might wash a babe.
“All done?” she asked Tom, stepping out of her large bath and conjuring up a mirror and admiring her flowers spontaneity as there was no pattern she’d ever figured out in her 80 years of having them.
She recalled only mourning for centuries before they came along, thinking she had wasn’t deserving of a Soulmark like the Fae around her. Then suddenly a flower sprouted, then another and another. And before she knew it, she was littered with soft, delicate lilies.
“Sofia, darling, are you awake?” called a melodic voice from the entrance of her room. She turned and, draping a robe over her body, answered the door.
“Yes, Mother. And how are you on this lovely Midsummer evening?” she asked, flashing a radiant smile to the woman at the door. Mother Alma was not her birth mother but the woman was her only relative left. She was her mother’s sister and the resemblance between the two was uncanny, or so Sofia was told.
“Come. Walk with me.” the older Fae offered her arm. Her long blonde hair and bright green eyes sparkling like morning dew after a spring shower. Alma was fairly tall, like all other Fae women, something Sofia had always wished she had inherited from her mother.
“Of course! Tom, hold the fort” Sofia instructed, saluting her Chipmunk, who nodded and went to stand guard near the bed. Looping her arm around her Mother’s she followed the full fledged Fae out of the room and into the gardens.
“I know what you want to ask, so just go ahead and ask” Alma said, giving Sofia a smirk as she glanced out the side of her eye. Sofia froze for a second before chuckling nervously, running a dainty hand through her wavy locks.
“I-I don't know what you mea-” another side eye and Sofia sighed, “Ok ok, what did our Allmother say?”
“.. You know, she is very fond of you and your dancing,” Alma said, running her fingers through the leaves of a Willow tree they were under, “We are all fond of you, we love you.”
“And I love you all, Mother,” Sofia said, touching the flowers and watching them blossom, "but I want to- no, I need to find them."
"My darling, Humans do not age as we do. They would be an elder by now, unless they are a.."
"A what? A halfling? Like me? All the more reason to find them, Mother. I can understand them." They can understand me.
"Your mind seems to be made up" Alma said, sighing so deeply Sofia feared she would faint.
"My mind will always be made up about this, Mother. But if you truly wish for me to stop, I will.."
"No. The Queen and I had long words and.. it's been decided you will be allowed to leave-"
"Oh truly?! Mother, I don't believe this!" Sofia squealed, leaping into the air and floating around the taller Fae, who wore a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“I will see you off as soon as you are ready, my love” Alma said, knowing the response she would get.
“I’m ready right now, allow me to go pack!” Sofia said, whizzing back to her home to begin her packing. Alma watched her rush off, a heavy weight settling deep in her stomach. Minus the copper hair, she was the spitting image of her late sister. She even had that disturbing obsession with the Human realm, one that the older Fae worried would consume her.
“She will be fine, she’s stronger than she looks” came a whimsical voice from her shoulder. Alma sighed and turned to her companion of many years, a tall woman with pitch black hair and violet eyes.
“Suren” she said, by way of greeting. They touched foreheads, taking a moment to just feel their matching marks warm up.
“Hello darling,” the Fae said, smiling that crooked grin Alma loved and nodding towards the direction Sofia went, “Let us go help our child pack for her journey. Can't possibly take long to find the Soulmate responsible for all of those flowers”
“I don't know which would be worse. Her finding them or returning home alone.” Alma muttered, following her mate solemnly to the ecstatic youngling's room.
-
“Hey Geralt, do you ever wonder if there’s someone else?” Jaskier asked, laying beside his beloved.
“Hmm?”
“Yes, you know.. another.. soul..?” the bard asked, looking frightfully at his lover. What if he was the only one that felt that incomplete? What if Geralt now thought he wasn't enough? What if-?
“Relax Jask, I’m not angry” Geralt eased his bard’s worries, running a thumb gently over one of his sharp cheekbones, “I only needed clarification”
“Right.. I love you and I know you love me and I feel this.. Pure comfort and joy when I’m with you but.. Do you ever feel like something is missing? S-Someone?” bright blue eyes looked up at Geralt with curiosity and the slightest bit of apprehension.
“I don't know if it is a feeling of ‘missing’ but I do sometimes feel a muffled sense of.. Absence..” Geralt said, having acquired more expressive terms in his vernacular. His mate happened to be extremely well versed in, well, everything and that left Geralt to soak up any words he found made the bard's eyes twinkle.
“Yes! Like something else is needed..” Jaskier said, happy his lover understands. He burrowed into the place he’s claimed as his between the Witcher’s neck and shoulder.
“Hmm..” the Witcher hummed, resting his eyes and allowing sleep to take him. There was no way he would be one of the lucky few to have two Soulmates. Although, Lambert would throw a fit if that were so. If only for that reaction, the Witcher allowed himself to playfully hope for a second soulmate.