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Note: I dunno if this actually crosses the line into shippiness or remains ambiguous gen. Regardless, I may revise this ficlet later when I get home and have a chance to do some canon review on the details of Erin and Aeriel's introduction. (250 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]
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Written on the Skin
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"Are you certain?" Aeriel asked for the dozenth time, hand cupped around the bowl of white-gold paint. "After the way we met--"
Erin cut her off, her face and body radiating determination like an echo of her sword's fierce light. "Yes. I would never wear that pattern again, nor let those hands touch me, but I refuse to let the majis own this part of who I am. I seized my freedom when you won me the chance to do so, and now I will take my culture back as well, with or without your aid."
Aeriel bit her lip (which paled obligingly, but failed to retain the impression of her teeth), and sighed, and nodded. She would give Erin the world if she asked, and she trusted Erin to know her own strength, but even so, Aeriel would rather cut off her own hand than bring harm, however inadvertent, to yet another person she loved.
Erin's face gentled and she combed one callused hand through Aeriel's hair. "We will start with the simple patterns. Face, hands, and feet, nothing a sari would cover. And if you wish, when we are done, I will mix a batch of paint in the colors of deep night and fertile soil and paint trust and healing on your body in turn: a shadow on your skin to match the light on mine."
Aeriel leaned in to the warm, living touch of Erin's hand, and finally let herself believe the only seed that would bloom from this sun-drenched hour was beauty.
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End
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Three down... :)