Chapter Text
It had been an ordinary day when he was traveling between one no-name town and the other when a small lark settled on his shoulder. Even with his instincts, the small bird had surprised him at first, causing him to startle and make Roach stop in her tracks. It was only after another minute, when it was clear the small bird refused to move from where it was perched on his shoulder that he let out a small grunt and had Roach start walking again, all the while he fished through a small bag at his side for a couple of berries which he promptly offered to the bird.
He chuckled a little at the way the small bird, a lark he noted, all but snatched the food out of his hand and he promptly reached back into the bag to retrieve a few more, enjoying the strange company more than he had thought he would.
That was until it started chirping. Right next to his ear.
The first minute was tolerable, the second had him looking sideways at the bird in the hopes his gaze would be enough for it stop, it wasn’t. The third became hell and he tried offering more food in an effort for it to be quiet, but the bird simply ate what it was given before starting up again.
His patience was quick to wear thin and although he felt somewhat happy that the bird had chosen him, someone who people refused to even look in the eye, and perch on his shoulder, the incessant sound in his ear was driving him to madness. Finally, he snapped and with a free hand swatted at his shoulder in an effort to shoo the bird away, hoping it would go and annoy someone else, and whilst it flew away to avoid his hand, it quickly returned to its original position. A couple more swats yielded the same result and it was with a grunt that he accepted his fate and tried to phase out the sound as much as possible, hoping that the bird would find someone else to entertain sooner rather than later.
**********
As night rolled in a few hours later, the bird had yet to leave his side. He felt like the life had slowly drained out of him with each passing minute that bird insisted on singing some song that only it was interested in, and yet no matter what he’d done the bird refused to leave him.
He swiftly got off of Roach as he ventured away from the main road to settle in for the night, tying the horse to a tree as he went hunting for that night’s dinner, made a lot harder as the lark refused to leave his shoulder and the constant noise that threw him a little off-kilter. Even so, he managed to catch a small rabbit, enough for dinner and maybe breakfast if he’s careful, before he made his way back to his makeshift camp, all the while swearing under his breath at the constant chatter from the bird that was all but driving him insane.
The trek back had him picking up random sticks for the fire he planned to start, and it was during this time that the bird finally left his shoulder. He thanked every god that was out there as he lost sight of the lark, taking a moment to enjoy the blessed silence that surrounded him before he continued, however, he’d only taken a couple of steps before the bird returned.
He could only let out another curse as he saw it settle on his outstretched arm that was currently holding the stash of firewood, but in the dying light around them he was somewhat stunned as he saw the bird drop a small twig onto the pile, letting out a couple more chirps before it was off again. He stared after it until even his enhanced vision couldn’t spot it anymore and yet again it returned, another twig in its mouth that it promptly gave to him before flying off again.
The whole scenario was making him wonder if he had actually lost his mind, unsure of what to make of the whole thing, maybe it was some sort of mage’s trick? But he was brought out of that thought with the larks return, another twig in its mouth, only this time instead of flying off it seemed to know he was having some sort of crisis and pecked at his hand in an attempt to get his attention.
The small stab of pain startled him so that he almost dropped the collected wood, only offering a small curse to the lark before he once again made his way back to the small clearing he had left Roach, still picking up the larger bits of wood whilst his new companion made its own contribution.
He didn’t know if he was in some sort of shock, or maybe the small bird was starting to grow on him, but the incessant birdsong he heard for the rest of the night was nowhere near as grating as it had been during the day. Likely because the lark had settled on his knee and not next to his ear, but all the same he still offered up the last of the berries that he had, giving a small smile to his new companion before he put out the fire and settled into his bed roll.
He had expected the bird to maybe fly up into the trees to make its bed for the night, instead he let out a small grunt in surprise when he felt the bird settle on his chest, dare he say nuzzle against his neck and offer up a final short song as if to say goodnight before silence settled around him. Against his better judgement he decided not to question the situation anymore before he finally settled down to sleep, strangely comforted by the small weight resting on him.
**********
The next few days followed the same routine, and whilst the bird’s song never seemed to falter, he was getting somewhat adept at blocking the sound out, even when the lark would poke at his shoulder or neck in an effort to get his attention as if the bird was telling him some sage old wisdom.
Eventually, he reached another small town, easily finding the small inn and all the while ignoring the stares people gave him in the street, being a witcher he was more than used to them by now, hell he’s just glad he hadn’t already been run out of the town, yet. However, this time their stares felt off, the feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, their judgement likely not helped by the small lark on his shoulder that still sung its heart out all the same, unaffected by the people around them.
He promptly handed Roach off to the stable hand, only receiving a side eye from the boy in response, and a similar look from the boy’s spirit animal, a dog he assumed, but the thing looked more like a large rat to him. Regardless, he didn’t pay much mind to it, only offering his own piercing stare in response that he could tell unsettled the boy before he turned to towards the inn.
He had half expected the lark to stay with Roach, surely the quiet outside would be miles better than whatever drunken hell awaited them inside, but still the bird remained, the fact brought a small smirk to his lips, why he didn't know, but he quickly composed himself, he had a reputation to keep after all, and sure enough, he hadn’t even made it a step through the door before half the patrons had turned to stare at him.
Passing through the room he could see the mixture of curiosity and hatred across the other people’s faces, their spirit animals anywhere from a bug on the arm to a rabbit, hell even a goat, either cowering at the sight of him or taking a more defensive approach. He’s sure it was only the fact that he had a sword on his back that prevented any of them making a move against him, needless to say, the air of the inn was thick with tension as he strode towards the bar. The men nursing their beers at the bar as they regaled stories to one another easily made room for him as he stared down at the barmaid, somewhat surprised at the snake around her neck, although he supposed it was helpful for unruly nights.
“I need a room and my horse needs looking after” There was a beat of silence then, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the slight scent of fear coming off the people closest to him, but the barmaid simply stared at him for a moment before turning away and instead took the drinks order of the people on the other end of the bar.
The fact made him grit his teeth a little, unable to stop his strained sigh as he waited for the woman to finish whatever the hell she was doing, however, the bird on his shoulder seemed to sense his growing anger and offered only a small chirp before trying to nuzzle closer to him. The action calmed him a little and he slowly let out the breath he was holding as the barmaid once again came up to him.
“I said I need a room for the night and space for my horse” The woman simply turned to him with a displeased expression on her face, the snake on her neck staring at him just as harshly.
“I ‘eard you the first time Witcher, y’er mother never teach you any manners” The comment had him grit his teeth again, barely holding back his tongue as he took a breath to calm himself “Ah wait, y’er mother can’t have cared enough if she gave you away to the witcher bastards”
The statement earned a round of laughs from the people around him, all the while he had to use every ounce of his self-control to not offer up a reaction that would justify the treatment his kind got no matter where they went. Once again though he felt the small lark on his shoulder nuzzle closer to him, making its way through his curtain of hair to be able to rub against his neck in a gesture of comfort.
It was then he heard a key being dropped unceremoniously in front of him and he picked it up with all but a snarl, he chucked a handful of coins onto the bar in lieu of payment, but he didn’t even get to turn before a vice-like grip wrapped around his wrist and he looked to see that the barmaids snake had wrapped its tail around him.
For any other person he wouldn’t be surprised if the snake could break the bone, but for him it was more of an annoyance quickly easing into discomfort as he aimed a murderous stare at the barmaid who had a smug look on her face.
“Ain’t you forgetting something Witcher”
Through gritted teeth he snarled out the words “thank you” before another minute passed between them, for a moment he felt the snake’s grip get tighter and he let out a pained groan, only before he could retaliate the lark on his shoulder moved down onto his arm and began incessantly pecking at the snake’s tail.
The scene was almost comedic, but the lark must have done something right with the way the snake suddenly recoiled away from him with a hiss. Only when he looked up he saw dark, beady eyes staring hungrily at the small bird, the lark unaware to the danger as it looked up at him and chirped happily as if awaiting praise for ‘saving’ him. He knew what was about to happen and sure enough, as soon as the snake went to strike, lightening quick he reached out with his left hand and caught the animal before it could reach the small bird on his arm, the action earning small gasps from everyone around him.
It was some sort of taboo that no one was to touch another person’s spirit animal unless you were said persons soulmate, at least that’s what he’d been told, although experience had taught him that rule almost exclusively applied to witchers. Regardless he now held the snake in his own vice-like grip until he saw the barmaid start to grow panicked, at which he finally dropped the animal before turning to head to whatever room he’d been given, feeling the stares of everyone behind him whilst the lark, which had since returned to his shoulder, sung happily in his ear.
He cursed from the high heavens to the lowest pits of hell that there ever existed soulmates and spirit animals as he journeyed to his room, and only once the door was shut behind him did he finally lose some of the tension which had only built up in his body since he had first stepped into this town. With a sigh he rubbed at the wrist the snake had grabbed, no damage had been done, but it still ached a little too much for his liking, but his thoughts were drawn back to the lark who now returned to stand on his arm, giving him a pointed look as he chirped.
The sight brought a small smile to his face as he reached out a finger to stroke the birds feathers, smiling a little more at the way the bird preened at the touch “Yeah I know, you were great out there little lark” with that he removed his hand from the small bird to instead fish through the pockets of his trousers until he retrieved a few berries he’d picked earlier that morning and offered it to the lark “You need to be more careful next time, I won’t always be around to stop rogue snakes”
The bird didn’t pay much mind to what he said as it happily ate the rest of the berries offered to it before starting up another song, the fact getting a small smile and a roll of the eyes from him before he lifted his arm and the bird once again returned to his shoulder.
He didn’t want to admit it, but although the lark’s singing was definitely annoying and pushed his patience to the limit at even the best of times, he’d somewhat gotten used to the sound and it felt odd when there was nothing but quiet around him. Nevertheless, he let out a sigh as he gathered his bag and his swords and moved to settle onto the bed, intent to spend the next couple of hours unpacking and repacking his stuff and make sure his swords were both clean and oiled, sure that tonight would be spent sleeping with one eye open.
**********
He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a timid knock on his door, almost as if the person was scared if he were to actually answer, so it’s unsurprising when he caught the scent of the man’s fear already through the door, letting out a sigh before he stood up to greet his guest.
It’s not that he’s worried about what’s on the other side of the door, but he pulled out his small dagger anyway, better to be safe than sorry, and sure enough, when he opened the door he was met with the sight of a short, stout man who looked paralyzed in fear, his own animal, a mouse, cowering under his shirt sleeve.
He gave a pointed stare to the man, waiting for whatever request he had because it was clear the man wanted to be anywhere else but near him, but when no answer was forthcoming he let out a sigh before he spoke, trying not to let his impatience show through.
“What do you need? It’s clear you’re not here for the pleasure of my company” the man lets out what he thinks is meant to be a laugh, but it comes out as more of whimper and it took every effort not to roll his eyes and shut the door in his face.
“No master witcher, we got a problem and thought you could help”
“Let me guess, a monster needs killing” It’s at times like this he questioned why he ever ventured into towns when it was clear that the people either hated him and/or feared him and he was stuck having wasted conversations like this.
“Yes sir, down by the cemetery, ‘bout a mile east from ‘ere. Every passin’ of the moon we find graves disturbed and the bodies eaten, most of the locals are too afraid to leave their houses ever since a young girl vanished a couple ‘o days ago now”
“Hmm, probably ghouls running out of dead to eat”
“Will you help us, some of us are scared out our wits-“ He quickly stopped the other man, not wanting to hear his big heroic speech about how scared they were and desperately needed his help when in any normal situation they would be much happier to kick him to the road.
“I’ll help, how much?” The way the man looked down at his feet, almost as if he was ashamed told him that this wouldn’t be much, but coin was coin, and it was starting to stretch thin.
In the next moment the man pulled out a bag of coin and handed it to him, “150 crowns, all we could afford, please help us, we’re desperate”
He stared at the bag for a moment, he already knew he’d be doing the job no matter how much he would be getting paid, maybe it’ll even get him in the locals good graces, the thought almost enough to warrant a snort of laughter before he handed the coin back to the man “You can pay me once the ghouls are dead”
The relief that washed over the other man was palpable and he was quick to give his thanks, but he offered nothing more than a grunt before he promptly shut the door to his room and went to don the armor he’d previously laid across the small dressing table. It was when he went to reach for his silver that the lark, who had been previously nestled on his bag, went to perch on the hilt of his sword, stopping him from grabbing it while giving him a curious look.
“You can’t come with me this time” He sure he’s going crazy when the bird just tilts its head at him and gives a couple of answering chirps, stranger yet he answers “It’s too dangerous” that only seems to rile the bird up, its chirps almost arguing with him, and he’s sure that at any other time he’d laugh at how absurd the situation was “I’m a witcher, my life is too dangerous for you to follow me around everywhere”
Unsurprisingly the lark is clearly unimpressed with his answer and gives another series of chirps before taking up its place on his shoulder, all he could do was let out a sigh, after the last few days he knew trying to get the lark to listen to him was a lost battle “Fine you can come, but when the fight starts you leave, alright?”
A small chirp is all he gets, and he just hoped that this bird had at least some sense of preservation, hanging around with a witcher of all things wasn’t exactly the safest environment. Finally, he picked up his silver as well as pocketing a couple of potions before he made his way out, the lark on his shoulder already starting a song for their short journey ahead.
*********
The trek was short to the cemetery, unsurprising and a bit annoyingly the lark had sung the whole way despite his insistence for it to keep quiet, admittedly the ghouls were unlikely to startle at the sound of a bird but it wouldn’t hurt for a bit of quiet so that he could at least evaluate the threat ahead of him properly.
The smell of decay was apparent before he caught sight of the cemetery, quickly downing the potions he’d brought, one so that he could actually see what was happening now that night had fallen and the other for reflexes just to give him an edge, he didn’t know how many he’d be fighting but he knew it would be a fair few if they’d already made their way through the cemetery.
It wasn’t long before he noticed them, but before he made a move he stared at the lark on his shoulder, the bird having gone silent now with the threat of danger and it only took a simple look from him for it to abandon it’s post on his shoulder and make its way into the nearby branches. He couldn’t explain the small sense of relief at knowing the bird was now out of harm’s way, but he dared not to dwell on it too much, he had a job to do after all.
He slowly paced his way closer to the group, waiting for the last possible moment to attack and sure enough as soon as he struck the first one down, it’s shriek quickly alerted the others and he soon found himself surrounded. As was typical with most fights he simply let his mind take over, instinct ingrained into him from all those years at Kaer Morhen taking over and he soon found himself swiftly cutting through the lot of them.
So focused on his task that he didn’t notice the alghoul that came out of the shadow, it was only when he was casting igni on the last of the ghouls that he heard it behind him, barely able to turn in time to lift his sword and stop its strike, but even still it knocked him back a few paces.
He hacked and spun and hacked again, almost as if it was a strange dance he was performing and whilst he could tell he was wearing down the monster, he was starting to tire also, his movements just that bit slower. It didn’t take much, a step back to avoid being hit with gruesome claws caused him to trip over a root and his sword to leave his hand, the alghoul quickly taking advantage and getting atop him, unable to reach for the silver as he held the creature back.
It was after some struggle that he found his strength begin to wane, both claw and mouth getting closer to him, so focused on just staying alive that he just barely caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. For a moment he thought it was another ghoul and that he was well and truly fucked, but he got his answer when a bird, his bird, his lark begin to claw and flap its wings in the alghouls face, the action was enough to distract the monster as it released a hand off of him to swat the bird away.
He felt a small spike of worry when he saw the bird hit the forest floor, but it was only momentary before he used the advantage to get his feet up and kick the monster up off of him and quickly roll out from under it, grabbing his silver all the while before bringing it down on its head, taking several extra strokes just to be sure it was well and truly dead. It was only then that all fight left him, and he promptly collapsed onto his knees as he took in a couple of deep lungfuls of air, and it was then, under the moonlight that barely filtered through the trees that he saw the lark, his lark in a small heap on the floor.
Despite his mind telling him that he definitely shouldn’t be feeling sorry for the small bird, it had done nothing but annoy him incessantly and get in harm's way, and yet the deeper part of his mind reminded him that same bird had saved his life. It was quick work crawling to the lark which he then lifted up to better examine it, and whilst it looked like a wing might be broken, it was definitely breathing, a fact that caused a wave of relief to wash through him.
If only the people could see him now, the emotionless mutant they claimed him to be on his knees hoping, no wishing, that some stray bird hadn’t died helping him. Regardless he didn’t know the damage done to the small lark and even still he couldn’t leave it alone in the woods, so instead he gently curled his hand around it and held it close to his chest as he started his journey back to the town, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and a pint of ale.
**********
The walk back to the inn was short, and along the way the lark had awoken, he had stopped for a moment to look it over properly and by the way it held a wing particularly close to its side he figured the bird would be out of commission for a little bit. Even still he offered a gruff thank you and a couple of brushes of his fingers to the bird who seemed to enjoy the attention, who despite the circumstances was still able to sing, and he swore he’d never heard a more beautiful sound as they continued on their journey.
Similar to when he first arrived, life in the inn stopped once he entered and he’s sure he made quite the sight, covered in a mix of blood and mud with a small bird nestled in his hand. He’s quick to spot out the man who had hired him, looking decidedly less afraid of him despite his appearance, probably due to the other people around him and the drink in his hand.
“The Witcher returns, you do the job?” He stared at the man for a moment, did people think he chose to look like this for the fun of it? Nevertheless, he reached into his bag and pulled out the alghoul head before tossing it to his feet, not caring for the gasps and the sound of retching around him.
The man gave a small nod before once again bringing out the bag of coin that was promised and threw it to him, easily catching it with his free hand before walking towards the bar, hoping that this would involve a lot less drama than earlier.
The same barmaid from before glared heatedly at him, her snake not looking too pleased to see him either but in that moment he couldn’t care less “I need a bath run and a beer” He stopped for a moment as he fished for some coin, paying no attention to the whispers he could hear the people tell about him as he dropped the coins onto the bar, giving his best smirk as added “please”
He wasn’t given much of a response, he just had a tankard dropped in front of him with the faint mumblings that the bath will be ready in a few minutes, giving a simple nod at the news as he moved to stand in a relatively secluded corner of the bar.
It was only when he started to relax a little, the adrenaline of the nights activities finally wearing off that he felt the small lark get restless in his hand, only offering a small frown at the animal who insisted on constantly moving within his hold, and when that didn’t work, started to mae a lot of high pitched chirps which had the people closest to him turn their heads to glare.
With a sigh he lifted his hand, the bird quickly taking its place on his shoulder where it became a bit more subdued. With a hand now free he reached into his pocket to grab the remaining berries, all made squashed and messy after the fight, but the lark didn’t seem to mind as it ate them eagerly before moving along his shoulder to settle against his neck. He was still getting used to the small, soft, warmth of the bird that was particularly fond of cuddling close to his neck, but it was still comforting to him all the same so that he too began to relax a little more.
It was only when he’d finished his beer, the dried blood on his skin itching to be cleaned off that he began to make his way through the inn and towards his room, taking extra care as he did so as not to disturb the small bird. He could almost feel the hot water that would ease the ache that had settled in his body, at least until he felt a hand on his sleeve stopping his movement, and it took all of his effort to bite back his instinct and strike at the offending limb, simply letting out a snarl as he turned to whoever had grabbed him.
It was a young boy, couldn’t be more than 20 and who looked like he’d had far too much to drink if the high flush on his cheeks and his glassy gaze was anything to go, but given by the way the other boys around him were barely containing their amusement he figured the boy had drawn the short straw for getting his attention.
“You a witcher, yeah?” this time he couldn’t keep back his eye roll and the scowl on his face, he was still covered in blood and visceral, hell from the way people cleared a path with muttered curses aimed at him it was obvious, and yet people still asked him the same stupid question.
He just let out a grunt, not wanting to drag the interaction longer than necessary, but from the way he saw a few of them eye the bird curled on his shoulder sleeping, he moved his body to a slightly more defensive pose, not willing to risk anything more happening to the small lark tonight.
“What’s with the bird? Thought witchers didn’t have soulmates” the words stirred something inside of him and he only paid it any mind for all of a second before he dismissed it and gave another obvious glare at the boys in front of him.
“We don’t”
“That bird on your shoulder disagrees with you”
He offered a small glance to his side to see the small bird staring at the scene curiously, before somehow edging even closer against his skin and offering a couple of small muffled sounds before going back to its rest.
“The bird refuses to leave me, no matter how many times I try and swat it away” The couple of sniggers he heard around the table did little to ease him, neither did the fact that it was becoming evident at the audience he was gathering around them.
“So like how my cat refuses to leave me, guess destiny took pity on you”
He could barely contain the snarl in his voice as he spoke, eager to end the whole affair and get to his now cold bath “Witchers don’t have soulmates, maybe if you picked up a book and stopped living in fairy tales you would know that”
Silence resounded throughout the air, the tension palpable and he offered nothing more than a grimace before he turned to head back to his room, however, the boy clearly wasn’t done with him given the shout that broke through the quiet “You sure you’re even a witcher then? Or are you just a different kind of mutant”
The comment had him clench his jaw in an effort to stay his tongue, but all the same he turned back to the boy and slowly stalked closer towards him, never taking his eyes off of him as the boy slowly cowered under his murderous gaze until he could almost taste the fear that came off of him in waves.
Before he could say anything else he suddenly found himself being pushed away by the barmaid, a scowl on her face that was mirrored on her snakes, and he felt the room take a collective breath at the fact, which only served to put him more on edge.
“I won’t have any trouble in ‘ere cause of you witcher, you either go up to your room or you leave” He gave a final stare to the boy and then to the barmaid before he turned back around with a scowl and silently made his way back up the staircase to his room, and it was only when he closed the door with a loud thud did he hear the people return to their normal chatter downstairs.
With a deep sigh he reached up a hand to pry the bird off of his shoulder, the lark paying him no mind as he gently laid it down on his pillow before staring at it for another moment. It was definitely strange that a bird would so willingly make itself his companion, let alone risk its life for him and he wasn’t sure what to make of it all.
On the outside, to people stupid enough to believe in soulmates, the small bird may look like a spirit animal, but he knew better. After they’d taken the trials they’d settled their fate to being alone aside from the odd horse, or the rare occasion they bumped into another witcher, but fate would have to be some cold heartless bitch if it allowed anyone to be soulmates with a witcher.
Someone to warm his bed for the night was different, a fleeting moment of comfort when the need arose and nothing more, but the last thing he needed was someone who needed him. His life was too unpredictable, an outcast in society who was only tolerated provided he could do something for them, never settling down anywhere and where one night could very easily be his last.
Maybe once when he was young and a lot more foolish he may have believed, maybe even wanted a soulmate but with age came wisdom and uncountable scars across his body that only furthered his point. Witchers don’t and shouldn’t have soulmates and it was something he’d made peace with a long time ago. Yet even as he began to take off his armor to begin the arduous process of cleaning not only it but himself, he couldn’t take his gaze off of the small bird dozing comfortably on the pillow in front of him, and the smallest voice at the back of his head saying what if.