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false promises of spilled ink by tls4951 (tls1314)
Fandoms: Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
20 Jan 2024
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Summary
It is a warm night, typical of the nights of his childhood, when the Servants find his mark.
It is a near thing. He has been careful, kept it bound tight, under the long sleeves he was careful to never take off, and powdered to match the white of his skin with chalk dust. He has made it a routine, gathering the chalk from the cliffs at night, watching the seagulls freewheel above him as he does so, and imagining them to be dragons. He jumps to take any moment of privacy unwillingly given, stealing scraps of solitude in the filmy air of the dusk and the quiet moments before dawn, binding and re- binding his wrist as the fireflies fly around him.
The mark shows his future, but not the future of his dreams. Inked on his pale wrist are the last words his soulmate will ever speak to him. He can never let anyone see it.
If they do, they might see the way it jumps from future to future, and wonder to who it belongs.
