I'm on a KelxLerant spree! :D The chapters will be in chronological order, but there's no plot per se - each chapter will simply act as a window inside Kel and Lerant's relationship as it grows deeper, and will portray the good and the bad.

This is based off prompts from the Livejournal community, 31 days.

o1 Pink ribbon scars that never forget

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"How'd you get this one?"

Her fingers, tracing the puckered ridges of his many scars, were sending him into a drowsy trance. Lerant twisted his neck to peer over his shoulder. She was stroking one low on his back, long but not deep.

"Um," he murmured, letting his head fall back down on the pillow. His voice was muffled when he said, "I think it was from some Tyran bandits, back when I first joined the Own."

Keladry leaned forward to kiss it. A pleasant tingle shivered down his spine and he rolled over, grabbing her as he did so that she sprawled on top of him. She set her elbows on either side of his head and propped her head on her hands, grinning down at him. Never unfriendly, Kel was also not what he considered outgoing; she had surprised him with her affection.

Running hands down her bare thighs, Lerant's fingertips brushed the jagged shape of one of her scars. "How'd you get this one?"

"A Scanran," she said promptly. "He cut me deep with a war hammer."

"Sounds painful."

"It was one of the worst, I suppose." It was an evasive tone; she did not mind speaking of her scars, but she would not speak of weakness. They were alike in that respect.

"And this?" Kel asked, outlining a ghastly scar on his chest with gentle fingers. He liked the way she frowned when she noticed how close it was to his heart, missing it by a mere inch. "This looks serious."

Lerant glanced away, saying simply, "An arrow."

But it was stupid of him to think he could fool her so easily. She stated quietly, "The one you took for Raoul."

"Yes."

She laid her head against his chest, her hand pressed over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

"I hurt less than I would have had I let milord die."

Kel didn't say anything to that; she didn't have to. For once, the woman he lay with didn't bother him with questions about how brave he was and would he take an arrow for her?, because she had more scars than he did, and she knew what it was to be not brave, but simply loyal.

Lerant leaned over and snuffed out the candle.

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