29. Tattoo Parlor

He's never seen a tattoo quite like the one on the woman's hand. And while he knows how to mix inks and imbue arcane power, or trace symbols into skin that can call on magic… Chrom can safely say he's never seen such a design before.

The six eyes look back at him, and he can feel a shiver in his own skin; whatever is locked up in this symbol, it's not the usual luck or safety wards he's used to imbuing.

"Robin?" He tests the client's name. "What exactly is this?"

Her fingers curl, nails clawing at the table where she rests her hand.

"Something that I want OFF my skin, if you can manage it." Robin tells him. Tension makes her fingers tight, at least until Chrom gently reaches out to lift her hand up, and get a better look at the tattoo on her hand. She lets him hold it up, letting the ink shift from black to a strange, glittering violet; just a faint hint on how much magic is inside the symbols.

"There's… A lot of power sealed into this mark." He tells her, carefully running his thumb over the mark and feeling it buzz in response. It's an intimate gesture, he knows… but he also needs to do it, to better figure out the strength of the mark. "It'll take time to modify it, or erase it entirely."

"I know…" Robin mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "But I don't WANT it."

"What DO you want in its place? Because I can tell you that we can't take this thing off with the equipment I have. You'd need to go to someone with better equipment and rituals-"

Robin shakes her head at that, an odd determination settling into her face. Her hand tightens up against his.

"I… Might need some time to think on it." Robin tells him. "But I'd sooner not go to anyone else. I've heard that your family knows how to inscribe and work patterns equal to… To the person that put this thing on my hand in the first place."

There's a lot he wants to ask her about; but instead, he tries to give her room to think, and figure out what she wants to do next.

-o-o-o-

As it turns out, she spends a great deal of time in his shop, considering the designs. Trying to find something that will cover her mark, and frowning over each one of them. Not that Chrom can blame her; usually when someone chooses a brand to mark on their skin, it's incredibly personal. A reflection of their nature, and the inner power circulating through them.

Which makes him wonder why Robin possess a mark she can't stand to look at. If she isn't trying to match a pattern to her current mark, then she keeps her hands covered in gloves, no matter how sweltering the weather gets.

He wants to ask about the mark. But instead, he finds herself asking if she wants to get coffee. And to his surprise, she accepts.

Coffee then turns into an invitation to dinner from her. And Chrom gets the feeling there's a loneliness to her; a desire to at least talk to someone.

And he's willing to talk. For weeks at a time as it turns out, until finally he feels comfortable enough with her to ask the one major question.

"Robin… I know it's a personal question, but why did you get such a mark, if you didn't want it?" He asks her one evening, as he closes the shop and she drops a collection of pizza boxes on the counter. Though she quickly flinches from the question, and Chrom is half certain she's ready to bolt.

"It's… Because I didn't get the mark. It was forced onto my skin." She tells him, in a quiet voice. And even though they're in the middle of summer, Chrom feels an odd chill in his blood. But now that she's speaking, Robin can't seem to stop. "I-it was my father. He's a sigil creator, too. And he… Felt that since I'm his blood, he owns my body and skin."

"I…" What can he say to that?

"It's in the past now. At least, I hope it is. And the sooner I can shed this wretched thing, the better. Then I can really put this all behind me."

-o-o-o-

More days pass. Most of them sleepless, if Chrom is being honest with himself. Learning what he has about Robin, he can't get it out of his head. And he finds himself hoping there's something MORE he can do for her.

And finally, after another night of being haunted by the question, he manages to wake up with an answer. He rushes to the shop, forgoing the usual ritual of combing out his hair; something Robin notices, when she steps into the shop.

"…Chrom?" He tries to smooth out his appearance with his fingers, even as he talks.

"Robin, I… If you don't mind, I have a suggestion on how we could change the mark." He tells her.

"And you were pretty eager to tell me, judging by things." She tells him, giving a slight cheeky grin.

"Y-yeah. Here's the thing; there's another pattern we could put on your skin, to help change the magic AND the pattern, and it wouldn't do any harm to you." Robin tilts her head towards him, eager to hear the idea. And Chrom tries not to lose his nerve, as he reaches to his t-shirt and rolls up the sleeves.

"I… I thought I could give you… M-my mark." He gets all those words out right before his face starts burning up. "A-and I know that's… A pretty bold suggestion."

And personal. Telling someone he'd like to share marks. Chrom starts to lower his head, certain he's overstepped himself… Only to catch Robin nodding. It's the slightest dip of her head, making her hair fall over her face and slightly hide her own pink cheeks.

"I…" Her voice is soft. "I… Wouldn't mind. Having that in common with you. The fact is, your mark IS nicer than mine. More handsome-"

"H-hey. I wouldn't go that far." He tells her. "Besides, I don't think yours looks all that unpleasant at ALL-" He's about ready to slap a hand over his mouth, with how he's talking. "A-actually. Maybe we should just get the equipment ready. Provided you don't have any second thoughts?"

Robin's answer to that is reaching out and squeezing his fingers, putting all her gratitude into the gesture… And Chrom finds that just like before, when he first held her hand, he doesn't mind the intimacy at all.