Work Text:
It starts with Fearne admiring Opal's french braid as they leave Emon, so Opal offers to braid Fearne's hair.
"Oooh, I want a braid!" says Dariax, excited, but Opal is taking forever to finish Fearne's braids because she has so much hair. So Dorian offers to braid Dariax's hair himself, if he doesn't want to wait. Of course the offer is accepted, and Dariax plops himself on the floor of the cart, back pressed against Dorian's shins.
The moment he touches Dariax's hair, Dorian knows it won't take long; his hair is soft, but thick and textured, and it's been a while since it was washed- it will hold a braid easily, and Dorian knows what he's doing. But he takes his time, first brushing it out with his own brush, gently detangling it and knocking loose the dust from the road until it is soft and shining. He decides to do a side-swept dutch braid, following the direction Dariax's hair naturally falls, wrapping snugly around the right side of his head and ending below his left ear. As he thought, it doesn't take long, but he takes his time, picking up small sections and taking care to pull them firmly and evenly, but not hard enough to make the scalp prickle.
The whole time, it's quiet and peaceful in the cart. Orym is up front driving, and Opal is quiet, focusing on the complex braids in her hands. Fearne has a gentle smile on her face, and is absently carding her fingers through Little Mister's fur. Even Dariax is uncharacteristically quiet, for once not feeling the need to fill the silence with chatter. When Dorian leans over his shoulder to look, he sees Dariax's eyes half-lidded, and a small, peaceful smile on his face that immediately broadens to a sunny grin when he catches Dorian looking. Dorian smiles back, and his smile lingers as he returns to his work.
When he reaches the end of the braid and casts around looking for something to secure it with, Fearne readily provides a ribbon- cobalt blue and silky. Dorian wraps it firmly around the end, then folds the little tail of the braid back and tucks it under to secure it against the scalp. Finally, he takes the long ends of ribbon and weaves them back through the braid, to secure everything in place. The bright blue of the ribbon peeks out in flashes, contrasting nicely with the coppery hair.
When he's satisfied, Dorian rubs his hands on Dariax's shoulders briskly. "There you go, Dariax, you're beautiful!" he says, dropping a quick kiss to the crown of his friend's head (just like his mother did when she was done braiding Dorian's hair). He rifles through his things and produces a hand mirror for Dariax, so he can admire himself. Dariax puffs up like a pigeon and gives his shoulders a little proud shimmy, and says "I'm beautiful!" with a blinding, sunny grin that Dorian can't help but return.
One good turn deserves another, so of course Dariax immediately offers to return the favor. Why should it matter he's never braided hair before? it can't be that hard. He's got this! So they switch places, Dorian sinking gracefully to the cart floor and Dariax clambering nimbly back up onto the seat. He swings his leg around and brackets Dorian's slim shoulders with his knees, and then buries his hands in Dorian's hair. It flows over his fingers like a whisper of silk, smooth and fine and weightless. For a while, Dariax is mesmerized by the texture of it, carding his fingers along Dorian's scalp and letting the smooth tendrils of hair spill through his fingers.
Eventually he remembers the reason he's playing with Dorian's hair, and tries to start actually braiding it. This proves more challenging than expected. He's seen braids before; he knows what they're supposed to look like. He even has an idea of how they probably work: three sections, one over and under, then the other one over and under, then repeat, right?
The trouble is getting his fingers to do that, and getting Dorian's hair to cooperate. It's so smooth and slippery, and when he tries to bundle it together and wrap it around itself, it slides through his fingers and escapes. The more he tries, the more ruffled it gets, twisting around itself and sticking out in uneven lumps and loops. As he works his way down the braid, he keeps noticing wispy strands that had escaped further back, but he can't possibly unravel the braid now; if he undoes his progress to recapture the loose strands, he knows he'll end up with an even messier result. Even so, he tries a few times- getting halfway down the braid, before unraveling it and combing it out with his fingers, and trying again.
He thinks about asking Opal for help, but she's deeply engrossed in what she's doing to Fearne's hair- she's finished doing several many-strand braids, and is now weaving them into some sort of complex updo, with ribbons and flowers. Dariax.... decides to leave her to it. He can figure this out himself. He's got this! And besides, Dorian doesn't seem to mind. He's relaxed back against Dariax, and has begun humming a song- something quiet and sweet that Dariax doesn't recognize. It's nice. Dariax does his best to keep his hands gentle and avoid tugging or pulling at the hair.
Eventually, he figures he's achieved as good a braid as he's likely to accomplish. It's looser than he'd like, but at least there's no weird lumps or loops, and no loose strands. Fearne provides another ribbon- sunset orange, this time- and he does his best to tie it off. This too requires a few tries; the first few times, the ribbon slips right off the end of the braid. Eventually, though, he figures out how to wrap it tightly enough that it will stay secured. He sits back and admires his work: Dorian's silky hair, fading smoothly from black to navy to cerulean, caught up in a loose braid and ending in pale blue tips tied in a bright orange ribbon. Not bad, if he did say so himself!
Gently, so as not to startle him out of his song, Dariax squeezes Dorian's shoulder. When Dorian breaks off humming and looks back at him questioningly, Dariax beams down. "You're done, buddy! And you're beautiful, but I can't take any credit for that. Braiding is harder than it looks!" Dorian's eyes crinkle as he smiles and pushes himself back up onto the seat. "Well, my hair's not very easy to work with." he says reasonably. Dariax frowns as Dorian pulls out his mirror to inspect himself. He thinks about how special and pretty he'd felt when Dorian had finished his braid. He'd wanted to give his buddy that same feeling, but it looks like he hasn't quite hit the mark.
Suddenly, something occurs to him, and he brightens. "You know what buddy? I can do better. I just need practice! And we've got plenty of time for that!"
Dorian smiles back at him, and twists sideways on the bench, plopping his feet in Dariax's lap and pulling out his lute. "That's right Dariax, we've got all the time in the world!" And he begins to strum. And if he makes a point to pull his braid over his shoulder so he can admire the way the ribbon shines against his hair, well. Sometimes a boy likes to feel special.