Two people seen from behind with matching fine line black crossed arrow tattoos on their upper arms.

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Matching crossed arrows on two upper arms

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

Two people stand close together, seen from behind, with their arms touching. Each has a small crossed arrow tattoo on the upper arm, with arrowheads and fletching drawn in thin black linework. The ink is solid black on light skin against a dark background, and the two designs are placed at a similar height.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bowstring had gone soft in the river damp, so Ilse sat on the mill step with a length of waxed hemp between her teeth, re-serving it while Marta paced behind her in the shadow of the barn. The wedding bell had not yet rung across the water at Sallow Ford, and already the whole village was talking about the arrows.

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Her grandmother had told them both the old custom: when two girls of the ford were wed, each cut a shaft from the same ash, fletched it with goose feathers from the same bird, and laid the pair crossed over the bridal bed. Shot together, the saying went, the two arrows would never again miss the same mark. Nobody had ever checked. Marta had cut the shafts herself at the back of the forge, and she had handed the second one to Ilse without a word, the way you hand over something you already know the weight of.

At the church gate the bride stopped and looked at the crossed pair hanging from the lychgate, the feathers stirring in the wind off the water. "You shoot the first one," Marta said. "I have never once hit the gold." Ilse laughed and shouldered her bow. The arrow flew over the reeds and the mill race and dropped into the butts beyond with a sound like a door closing softly.

They walked out to the target together and drew the two shafts free. Their heads pointed the same way now, the flights lying side by side, and neither woman ever shot toward the other again.

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