Rabbis were not meant to have tattoos. Rabbis were not meant to marry out of the faith. But Siuan Sanche was no ordinary rabbi. She led an all-female congregation, eschewed dark unobtrusive clothing for more elaborate dresses and wore a most fascinating headpiece when she was presiding in synagogue. She had originated from the ranks of the poorest fisherfolk and had expertly risen to leadership due to her diplomacy and steady strength. Moiraine thought she was magnificent, even relaxing at home in her rough linen paisley pyjamas and dressing gown which is how she liked her wife best.
Every so often a new inking would mingle on her skin. Today's discovery heralded a beautiful downwards chamsa, intricately swirled, nestling near to the fish tattoo, the one that had started it off. No matter how many years Moiraine had seen them (twenty who was counting?), she always enjoyed looking at them.
'I'm surprised it took you so long' remarked Moiraine, tracing her hip gently.
'I wanted it to be perfect. We worked on the design for a while' Siuan said fondly. She wanted this one to be extra special.
Lan was the only tattooist that she would go to. She trusted him implicitly. His work was marvellous. Moiraine could say so because he was her best friend. She had been debating for years about getting a tattoo. She wasn't tempted yet. It had to be just right or nothing at all. He teased her that he would get her in the end. For now, she was happy to run her eyes over Siuan's skin, caress the storybook unfolding under her fingertips and marvel about where life had led her. From the early sadistic entrapment of her noble beginnings to marrying her family's worst nightmare, she threw all her privilege all away for her devoutly unorthodox rabbi.
Five years. Five years today they had been married by the riverbank.
She wouldn't have chosen any differently.