Soulmate AU One Shots Collection

Lavender and Rose - Jaskier x Reader

One moment, Jaskier stood before the crowd, serenading a world in grayscale; in the next, a burst of beautiful, rich color bloomed across the world.

The first color, he noted in her eyes; but it passed so quickly that it didn't leave half so strong an impression as that of her dress. Before he could see any more, memorize any more of her face, she tugged closer over her face as she turned away.

If the audience noticed the slightly sour note which his voice pitched into at that moment, they didn't mention it. Though of course, their drunkenness may have prevented their hearing it, for surely they would have made their displeasure known if they had.

Nevermind that, it had been the last note of the final number. Feeling his heart rattling around inside of his stomach, Jaskier made his way towards the bar on shaky legs, trying his best to cordially collect the coin pressed his way whilst fighting to catch that spot of color in the dark tavern. He didn't have a name for it yet, but he knew at that moment that he could never love another color so.

But his attempts revealed to be futile, for she had vanished.

He dropped unceremoniously into a seat beside Geralt. Those cat-like eyes, now burning bright with some unnamed hue, fixed upon him, and Jaskier wondered if he looked as stunned as he felt.

"What happened? Jaskier?"

Beneath the gruff tone lay worry which another might not have noticed, but it took Jaskier a moment to reassure his friend. His throat had gone dry, and tasted of sandpaper, and he hooked his hand around Geralt's mug of ale. Without asking permission, he downed half of the contents before he finally found his voice again, an odd sensation for a bard.

"Your eyes are..."

He didn't know the name of the color, but he couldn't stop staring - something he had never done before.

Geralt seemed to realize then, and he cast his gaze around the room quickly.

"Where?"

"Gone..." Jaskier replied, still transfixed by how different everything looked. Including his own clothes...

His fancy doublet had blossomed with a strange color, rich in tone. Geralt had scoffed at him when he bought it, complaining of how he would never know if the bard were injured or not, because it matched the color of blood.

Jaskier bought it instantly to irritate him.

What was the color of blood called again?

Red, his mind supplied.

Yes, Witchers could see color, without having met their one. Part of their mutations, Geralt had said. Seeing color from the Trials helped them to better hunt monsters, according to the mages who had made them.

Jaskier thought it miserable. They would never know whether they had met their soulmate or not. They would never get to have that moment, like he'd just had.

The sudden thought occurred to him that he had know way of knowing what the now-present colors were called. Oh he knew the names, of course, but he'd never before been able to match them with the real thing. But the color of her dress... He burned the image into his mind, determined not to forget.

-

She had only stopped into the tavern to seek refuge from the storm. Though she hadn't intended to stay anyways, the moment the world filled with color, she knew she had to leave.