1. They have their tattoos from the time they’re born. They disappear when they first meet in person. Many people grow to ignore the presence of their tattoos over time, and might even get another tattoo put over it.
2. Marianne was one of those people who ignored hers. She was convinced that the whole thing was a myth when she first started seeing Roland, because hers never disappeared. She never personally knew anyone who’s tattoos had disappeared. (Unbeknownst to her, her parents’ tattoos actually did. But her mother died when she and Dawn were children and Dagda just never talked about it.)
3. Bog was one of those who got tattoos inked in over his. When he had his situation happen with his unnamed crush, his never disappeared either. But then again, he never looked for it since he had the other ones done.
4. So comes the day when the two of them finally meet. They each get dragged semi-willingly to a bar. Neither of them really drink much, but their respective groups intend to get shit-faced. No one knows exactly how the fight started, but the entire bar brawl winds up being Marianne and Bog squaring off against one another, with everyone else watching.
5. Fast-forward to the both of them in jail. While they’re both in their respective holding cells, waiting on Dagda and Griselda to come and bail them out and fuming over the whole thing, they each discover that their tattoos have vanished.
@kalikoke replied to your post “So I drove my mom around twice today, once around...”:
Ah man. That’s no fun
@ominouscloudsofarendelle replied to your post:
eesh I’m sorry.. sinusitis is the worst :(
@jenniferjuni-per replied to your post:
Hope you feel better soon!
@dagart replied to your post:
Get well soon.
Thanks, guys! I feel better this weekend—less congested and a bit less tired—but I still can't hear out of one ear. Taking longer than I expected for the ear infection to go away...
ominouscloudsofarendelle replied to your post:So, today my heart decided to act all weird. ...
stress? stress can be awful.. maybe see a silver lining and write a soulmate AU? ;)
I don’t think it’s stress either, everything has been fine...and lol I would but y’all are killing it. Not going to disrupt that beautifulness. Plus, I gotta work on this next chapter of Mummy....if I can get the energy to do it lol
uuuugh I took Ibuprofen but it doesn’t seem to be...
nooooooo.. apple cider vinegar helps a bit, as does original Buckleys. both are terrible, though.
I don't know if we have apple cider vinegar...I've been gargling salt water, and I took some sinus medicine, because my head doesn't feel stuffy but I can feel the drainage in my throat? which is probably causing the soreness?
I should take a warm shower, probably, the steam usually helps.
Kristanna Past Lives AU: Chapter 4 (Medieval Europe)
Written by @ominouscloudsofarendelle
Rated T for moderately violent imagery.
A/N: Title taken from the Handsome Furs song.
The kingdom of Aren sat jewelled in appearance, its angles and slopes one with the very rock it came from. The castle’s stone hewn towers jutted up towards clear, bright skies; the wind its only constant friend. There lived in the castle two sisters, orphaned by the King and Queen Droullin while the bloom of youth still reddened their cheeks.
These sisters were kin in blood but not in nature. The eldest, Elsa, was rarely seen apart from the occasional glimpse of her on the balcony. Elsa’s beauty was renowned; unblemished skin and sparkling sapphire eyes. Her hair rumoured to have grown paler with each passing year despite her young age. The words on everyone’s lips whenever Elsa was mentioned was that only five people in all the world had ever heard her speak, two having since departed this world for the next. Unnerving seemed the most apt description.
The younger sister, Anna, was never far from view. Anna spent her days in the garden or among the few merchant carts in the village center. Hair of flame and freckled skin captivated all those who looked upon her. She was as warm as her sister was cold; as welcoming as her sister was distant.
When the King had died and the villagers had ceased their mourning, fear of the future had settled into their bones. Though the mining of iron ore was steady and profitable, the export of their wares was dependent on the rulers of their land. The small but affluent village of Knut in the Southern isles reduced their purchases of Aren goods and laid in wait for the inevitable collapse.
Elsa, eldest born, was rightful heir to the throne though her father’s good graces were not as easily transferred. Though barely twenty, Elsa prepared to take on the crown and lands as soon as the discourse could be muted. As fear gave way to action, the prominent sons of the village came to draw their swords against the would-be queen on the eve of her coronation. Witnesses to the challenge were scarce and those found remained oddly silent apart from confirming their loyalty to their new queen. The challengers retreated with heads bowed; their armour dented and swords broken at the hilt.
Many thought their Queen would set out to soothe relations with Aren’s neighbours; a show of strength in a time of uncertainty. Queen Elsa instead shut all castle doors, preferring to speak through her servants and handmaidens. The unrest bubbled in the town square like a pot on the hearth.
“The Queen will doom us all to rags and ruin! What need for mines is there if none of our allies will trade with us?” a miner exclaimed, face tinged permanent grey from years of dust. The other townsfolk could only shake their heads in sorrow, unable to accept what they perceived as a grim fate.
Eight nights and eight days the castle remained silent. The ninth day became a flurry of activity as the royal footmen began delivering tons of ore to the harbour, ready to be loaded onto ships prepared to sail in all directions. The miners themselves were baffled at this bounty, both at the volume and purity of the stone. None present could place its origin; no one dared claim the work as that of their own hand.
A decree from the castle advised of a grand gathering to take place in six days’ time inviting all neighbouring lands to welcome the dawn of a new age where steel and commerce would reign supreme. Not concerned with the economy, Princess Anna was overjoyed at the chance to glimpse the world outside her door.
Love was too rare a beast to be caught, especially from inside the walls of the royal castle with only the waterfowl in the shallow pond her companions. Elsa did not speak to her sister any longer; her presence little more than a specter roaming the hallways.
In her best gown, Anna smiled at and danced with all manner of lords and distinguished guests on the eve of the ball. A man from Knut caught her eye and his charming manner did nothing to dissuade her quickening affections. If one could marry for both love and the alliance of two kingdoms, why should one hesitate to make such a match?
“I do not wish to discuss such matters. Please respect the hospitality which you are offered and do not ask for further accommodations.”
“Your highness, don’t your people have a right to know where their materials are coming from?” a lord from the town of Wessel demanded.
“I bid you good evening, sir. Guards, please close the gates at once.”
“Elsa, be reasonable – the night is still young.”
“I do not wish to hear your opinion on this matter, Anna.”
Anna placed a hand on her sister’s arm as a sharp jolt of pain jostled her fingers away. Queen Elsa, scared and recoiling, had eyes as dark and faceted as steel. Without a glance back, the Queen ran.
The ground felt brittle underfoot as though one step could cause it to give way as Anna chased after her sister. She lost her balance and sank into the dusty ground and could only watch as the white-blond braid of Elsa’s hair faded from view.
Talk flitted around Anna’s ears like small birds searching for a bit of sky; she ignored it with lips drawn into a thin, determined smile.
She asked a merchant on the outskirts of town where she may find a miner to accompany her to the bellows of the Earth; the birds flocked to sing of a man in the East who may aide her in her quest. A steelmaker by trade and miner of his own materials lived half a day’s walk from the village.
Princess Anna came upon a stone house, flanked by towering statues of winged creatures staring suspiciously at all in their purview. She felt no fear under their watch as she walked closer to the rounded archway of the door. Nay, she felt almost an instant grounding to the spot as though walking home after a long journey.
A man no older than her sister answered Anna’s timid knock, a scowl fixed in place.
His face captivated the young princess. A wide jaw, prominent nose and eyes as rich as the earth freshly tilled in his garden. Hair of golden flax was tinged black – no doubt from labouring in the mines. A small furnace loomed behind him, its heat warming the very soles of her feet.
“Good evening, sir. I was told you may be willing to help me navigate the caves just beyond that ridge.”
“I work alone.” The man replied, door slowly pressed to close until Anna inserted her foot in the gap he’d left.
“Please – I need to find my sister and I know she’s fled to the caves.”
“I would think someone fleeing does not wish to be found.”
“She’s scared and alone and I must find her. Please.”
The man remained silent as he studied her face, attempting to devise a solid reason against offering his assistance.
“I’ll commission a sword. And a full suit of armour,” Anna relented, straightening her stance.
“We’ll leave at dawn.”
“We shall leave as soon as you can fashion a sword.”
“Is the Queen a dragon you must slay?”
“It’s not the Queen I’m worried about slaying.”
The sword upon completion was the finest Anna had ever seen; the royal crest filigreed into the handle with such detail it should have taken 40 nights to finish.
“I’ve never seen its equal,” Anna marvelled.
“Has there been unrest in Aren? Not so long ago the Queen was crowned, was she not?”
“They blame her for what happened to the mines,” Anna admitted, hands twisted in the fabric of her skirt.
“What of the mines?” The young man’s eyebrows inched up his face.
“Barren. All ore has vanished.”
A squawk of surprise escaped his lips. “Why would the Queen be to blame for such a tragedy?”
“Father always said Elsa was special, that she could feel the ore thrumming in her bones,” Anna revealed, her gaze fixed on the man’s broad shoulders as she refused to meet his eyes. “I always thought he meant she could divine its location.”
“What do you think now?”
Anna bowed her head low, bottom lip betwixt her teeth as she uttered a truth she had never before spoken aloud. “That she can create it.”
The cave dipped low and narrow as they crept further and further down. The determined chittering of small animals unnerved her. Recognizing them as bats, Anna cowered in fear.
“You don’t need to be afraid of the bats, my lady.” Christofer breathed the words as though the very idea of them caused him pain.
“Winged creatures who live to drain the blood from all they touch? Why would one be afraid of such a thing?” Anna scowled, heart thunderous against the soft darkness.
“Do you never tire of being wrong?”
“Wrong? How is making sense of those demons wrong?”
“They aren’t demons. And that is not all you’re wrong about.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You speak of a man who you wish to be betrothed to and yet in the same breath admit you don’t know him.”
“Where I choose my affections to lie is no rightful business of yours.”
“That is true. I merely fear for your continued happiness and condemn your judgement to madness.”
“How poetic of you, Christopherus.” Anna assured.
“It’s Christofer.” He countered, with a deep exhalation.
“I am sorry. Why do you not fear them?”
“I view them as friends.”
“Oh. Well then I shall trust your good judgement.” Anna stood tall as she could against the walls of the cave, eyes slowing their nervous darting.
“You will?” he asked, a genuine smile gracing his lips.
Anna stopped to rest her hand on the crook of his arm, features soft in their glance.
“Anna – your hand-“ Christofer looked down at her fingers resting on his elbow in alarm. Her usual warm-hued skin was turning dark, dull grey; the tips of her fingers jagged and rough as ore.
“We need to find Elsa.”
The pair stopped to acquire supplies to continue their trek to another cave. Anna went to replenish their food while Christofer went to speak to the townsfolk.
“A man drinking far too much mead claims he drove out a band of brothers determined to slander the Queen. Olaf says they boast they’ve travelled village to village warning of Queen Elsa turning into a salamander at nightfall and travelling into the mines.” He summarized, brow furrowed in concern.
“That is treason if I’ve ever heard it.”
“There’s more and we will need to hurry if we want to stop it.”
A storm met the travellers as they reached the village with great gusts of wind swirling dust in all directions.
“Anna? ANNA!” Christofer bellowed as a red cloud threatened to choke him.
Princess Anna stumbled as her vision blurred until she saw a terrifying sight at the base of the left castle tower.
They meant to wall Elsa – their Queen, her sister – up within the castle. To bind her with bricks and stone until no more air flowed. The glimpse of bronze hair twisted the last scrap of fondness from her heart as she watched Hannes lead the charge.
Anna rushed to save Elsa, fingers cracking in their movement. A sound unlike any other pierced the soft haze of dusk as a brick hit Anna’s outstretched hand. The metallic clang sent Hannes and his brethren flying backwards.
Christofer ran towards her, mouth agape in horror as she seemed to turn to stone for a moment before the golden hue of her beautiful skin returned. Queen Elsa clung to Anna’s arm in relief, apologies murmured into her sister’s once again flesh and blood ear.
As Princess Anna caught the eye of the steelmaker, calm settled into her chest. Her lips curved into a smile despite the traitors slowly rising to their feet. “I’ll need that sword from you now.”
