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Soon, summer would be coming, and I would get to parade my husband around in his swimsuit. Briefly, I debated making a sign for him to wear that said “Property of Frey” so no one would get any ideas, but decided against it, mostly because it would distract me from the view. Then again…
“Maybe a tattoo,” I said aloud, not realizing it as I worked on some brooches.
“What was that, Love?” Leon looked up from the translation he was working on for Arthur.
“Huh? Oh, nothing, Darling.” I smiled my best innocent smile, which only elicited a smirk from him. No, it wasn’t necessary.
“What tattoo are you talking about?” He put down the papers and rose fluidly, coming to stand beside my workstation.
“N-Nothing,” I said, distracted by his closeness. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Come, now, you can tell me.”
“I want you to get a tattoo.” Was I never going to be able to keep my cool around him?
“Huh?” he said, startled into standing straight. His hand went to his face, touching one of the tattoos that marked him as a Dragon Priest.
Slowly I felt my lips curve into a grin. “It should say, ‘Property of Frey’ and be right above your tail.” I touched the spot I had in mind, letting my fingers trail a little along his warm skin.
“W-what!?”
“Or maybe across your abs. Maybe both.” My grin widened as his cheeks reddened. Oh, I do so love turning it around on him!
“Love, I don’t think… That wouldn’t… I mean, do you really want me to?”
The poor thing looked so embarrassed and confused I couldn’t help it; I burst into helpless laughter as his discomfiture grew.
“You know, the tattoos I already have aren’t just for fun,” he said, looking dour. “I don’t think you really understand tattoos. At least in my time, they all had meaning.”
“And ‘Property of Frey’ doesn’t?” I pouted, but then I saw he was serious. I stood up to kiss him on the cheek, wishing for a moment he was just a bit shorter. “Tell me what they mean, then.”
“Come here.” He led me to the bed, where he took off his vest and sat. Pulling me onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around me, but instead of feeling as though he were being protective, I got the feeling that he was clinging to me for emotional support. Something tender rose up in me. “I want you to touch each one, and I’ll tell you what they mean.”
“Okay,” I said, a little hesitantly. I kissed him gently, then moved my lips to his cheeks. “Tell me what these mean,” I said.
He chuckled softly. “Someone’s feeling feisty today.” He pulled back to look at me, then pulled me back against him and rested his chin on my head. I tilted a little so I could listen to his heartbeat and the rumble of his voice. “Those are the first marks received by a novice Dragon Priest, upon completing the initial training. Only those who are accepted to the priesthood and complete the first stage, which takes about three years, get the tattoos. They symbolize focus and the dedication that stems from true belief. I know you don’t think of me as that sort of person, but when I was young, I was very studious and serious. A model student, actually,” he said, his teasing tone indicating that he was mocking himself for it. “I didn’t take much time for anything other than my studies, which included physical labor as well as book learning, or I might never have left my rooms. I had already met Venti, you see, and decided at a young age that I wanted to be one of her priests. I was seven when I began my novice period.”
“Seven!” I was surprised. “So young…”
“But so determined. I don’t regret it, either…”
“But wait, I thought you were…”
“Dragon Priests were permitted to marry,” he said softly.
I listened to him breathing for a moment. He lifted his head from mine. “What next?”
I raised my lips to his brow, kissing the odd target-like tattoo in the middle of his forehead.
He kissed mine in return, then put his chin back atop my head. “That one is the third eye of the priest. It is given at the completion of full training. Surprisingly few people ever attain full Dragon Priesthood, but then again, the second part of the training generally goes on for six years. I completed it in five.” There was my smug husband! “It stands for our willingness to see things in a complete light, to always weigh the consequences of our words and actions, for when a Dragon Priest metes out judgment, as we are sometimes called to do, we must be fair and just. We must view all sides equally and without bias. We must see with our hearts and minds as well as our eyes, to be compassionate and unrelenting at once. The innermost part is red because of the heart’s blood we sometimes shed in the name of justice. It’s not an easy mark to bear, and that’s why so few complete the training. You might be surprised how hard it is to be impartial sometimes,” he said with a regretful sigh.
I hugged him tightly, but he said no more about the mark, so I raised my head from beneath his. “Close your eyes,” I whispered, and as he did, I kissed his eyelids, at the inner corner where his final set of tattoos sat, small like tears gathering to fall.
“Ahhh,” he sighed. “That feels… nice.” He sounded somewhat surprised. “Love, you won’t very much like what those mean.”
“Of course I would! They’re part of you, aren’t they?” I looked at him, indignant, until he opened his eyes and looked at me, then began to chuckle.
“No, you wouldn’t, and if you did I’d be shocked. Those are never given to more than four Dragon Priests, one for each of the Native Dragons, at a time.
“I was the Priest serving Ventuswill chosen for that dubious honor.” A more profound sadness came over him then, and I rested my head against his chest. The pressure of his chin was a bit firmer this time. “Not the head priest, either, but the one given the hardest duties of all. I was the one who gave final rites. It fell to me to mete out Venti’s justice when it was due. A Native Dragon should not soil her claws with the sins of mortals. So I was the one chosen to grant absolute justice, when mercy had failed. Those markings are for the tears shed by all of us when there was no other recourse.”
“Wait…” I raised my head to look at him uncertainly. “You were… Venti’s executioner?”
Leon sighed. “I… guess that would be one way of putting it. While mine was the hand that struck the fatal blow, in those instances, it wasn’t just that. It was my duty to make all the arrangements, to contact the family in advance, to hear final confessions and perform the funeral rites in those instances. Fortunately there weren’t many, but… It was not a duty I relished.”
“So why were you chosen?”
“Because I hated it so. I understood the necessity – how could I not, after training for eight years to become Venti’s priest as well as her friend? But I took no pleasure in it at all. Neither did I let it make me angry, because I understood the necessity, and so I was deemed best able to handle it. It was three years after becoming a priest that I was marked with her tears.”
“So… You were eighteen.”
“Yes. Three years before I became a Guardian.” His arms tightened around me. “You know, I didn’t have these ears or a tail then. Those are things that carried over from my Guardian’s form. I don’t know why. I wish I could ask Venti, but…”
“Someday, we’ll find a way to bring her back.” I raised my lips to his. “That’s a promise.”