Close-up of a metallic gold temporary tattoo on a wrist showing a ring with a diamond, the words BRIDE and tribe inside the band, and small sparkles.

Gold bride tribe ring temporary tattoo

Forearm · Colour · Photo

A close-up photograph of a metallic gold temporary tattoo on the inside of a wrist or forearm. The design shows a ring with a large faceted diamond, the words BRIDE and tribe set inside the band, and small four-point sparkles around it. The outlines are solid and clean, with a textured gold finish and a soft blurred background.

Forearm Ring Diamond Text Sparkle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourselves down on that wall, and mind the moss, it has no manners. Aye, you with the sash. This is Hollin Keep, and there's nothing left of it now but three walls and a stair that climbs to nowhere, so you'll forgive an old man for telling it, since the stones can't tell it themselves.

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The story goes that Lady Maud Tenby was to be wed at the midsummer fair, and her intended, a wool merchant's son called Edric, had a ring made in the town at Carrow Bridge. Gold, he insisted, with a diamond cut so sharp it would throw the sun back at the far hills. It was set on the Tuesday. On the Wednesday the Lord of the Keep called off the match over a debt of twelve sheep and a fishing weir, and Maud was sent to the chapel to pray for better sense.

She didn't pray for sense. Every evening she climbed that stair, and every evening Edric stood below in the bailey and held up his lantern, and she turned the ring so the last light caught the stone. Flash, flash, like a fisherman's signal. The women of the village saw it, the washerwomen and the bakers' girls, and they made themselves a tribe. They stitched sashes from spare linen, they carried the ring down the back way on the feast of St Agnes, and they married the two of them in the roofless chapel with nothing but a hedge sparrow for a priest.

The Lord never forgave it, and the keep fell down in a storm not long after, which is what keeps a grudge honest. But look there, on the chapel lintel. Someone scratched a little ring into the stone, and beside it a word the masons never meant to carve. Brides and their tribe, they called themselves. Go on now, the light's going, and the stair won't wait for you.