Chapter Text
It was uncertain when she had become so precious.
There was a time, Asra could have sworn, when he could only view Portia with suspicion.
She had been friends with Mine first, which was not that surprising; then Muriel, which had been extremely surprising; and logically speaking, when you stopped to think about it, it was obvious Asra would be her next target.
Of course someone both Mine and Muriel trusted couldn’t be all that bad. Surely not.
It was just… Asra did not like strangers poking into his affairs, he did not want to share parts of himself out of obligation. And there seemed to be a building pressure to bridge the gap between him and Portia, in regards to his inner circle.
The time Asra had found Muriel at her cottage, the two of them cooing over peeping chicks; the frequent afternoons Portia came by the shop to gossip with Mine; the one day Muriel had asked––softly, his forehead creased with worry–– if they could have her over for tea at their forest hideaway.
Muriel hadn’t even wanted Mine to know about the hut at first. And now he wanted to invite someone he’d barely known for a couple of months?!
If it wasn’t for the fact she was a novice at magic, Asra would have started searching for charm spells or love potions. A part of him wondered if he still should.
Portia herself wasn’t all bad. She was like Mine in some aspects, bright and sunny and always able to make everyone around her smile.
But Mine had their quiet moments, when they were absorbed in their magical studies, when they withdrew away from the world to take a breath.
Portia did not seem to have anything like that built into her personality. Maybe Devoraks couldn’t help but thrive off chaos and crowds all the time. She always seemed to be hurrying around the city on some errand or another, at least five different people stopping to say hello. And somehow, she never faltered when it came to remembering their names.
They were incompatible, Asra had concluded at last. He and Portia had little in common, aside from their friend group, which wasn’t that hard considering she knew the names of almost everyone in Vesuvia.
And so Asra maintained a cool distance between them, indulging in the barest of courtesies when they met and nothing more.
He said hello when they passed each other by. He made small talk if she was with any of his friends and he happened to be around. He waved back when she waved to him. He made sure to always smile, never showing any irritation or frustration around her.
For a time, it seemed to be enough.
Then one evening, Nadia had suggested a sleepover together, just him and Julian as her guests, like old times. Asra had excitedly hurried over, only to find Julian in bed with a summer cold and Portia in his place, braiding Nadia’s hair.
Asra’s favorite activity of choice.
Was she doing this on purpose? Hadn’t she gotten the hints that he didn’t want a close friendship? That she wasn’t welcome beyond his inner walls?
But Nadia was happy to see him, and Portia’s peppy mood permeated the room, and it felt a shame to ruin such a nice atmosphere. So Asra put his things down and took off his coat, and sat behind Portia to do her hair.
The conversation ran around in all kinds of circles. Portia seemed to know most of what was going on in Vesuvia, but the volume of her knowledge was a little overwhelming when Asra didn’t have a clue half the time who she was talking about.
“––Hanan decided to finally be a ship carpenter like they wanted! Their parents aren’t too happy though, old blacksmithing business and what not––”
“––Can you believe the utter nerve of Beatrice, trying to rip off Selasi’s pumpkin bread? Trying to sell it to the nobles as her own high class taste, she’s lucky he’s so nice––”
“––And Thaqif had his baby, which wasn’t easy since he’s a single parent and no family here. But I went around to see him, milady, and his neighbours are sooo friendly, I think he’ll be alright––”
Even magic might not be able to compete with Portia’s extensive memory.
Nadia went “I see” and gave little sounds of acknowledgement, while Asra stayed silent, using his busy hands as an excuse, as he attempted to arrange Portia’s hair into a ribbon-like braid pinned to the back of her head.
When Asra had finished fixing her hair in place, she turned, the ribbon shape on the back of her head bobbing along, grinning up at him.
“Your turn!”
“My?”
“Seems a shame to leave you out of the braid line.”
“How thoughtful, Portia,” Nadia nodded. “If you don’t mind, Asra?”
“Of course, Nadi.”
He scooted forward, knees pressed against Nadia’s back, while Portia darted behind him.
Lucky for him, despite the season, his hair wasn’t cropped off like usual.
A few days ago, he had been helping Mine refine one of their hair spells, and his hair had been shoulder-length ever since. He had been meaning to cut it short, but it wasn’t hot enough yet that it bothered him, and it was nice on occasion to have pretty swaying curls.
Until they became sticky with sweat, plastered to his neck.
“Has anyone told you how gorgeous you look with long hair?” Portia said, bringing him back to the present.
“P-pardon?”
“Quite right, Portia. You’re certainly a vision with that lovely hairstyle, Asra.”
Asra’s cheeks flushed, and he shrank, to Portia’s protest as she had begun braiding his hair. Nadia chuckled.
Under her breath, only loud enough for Asra’s ears, she whispered, “I do apologize for the abrupt change in plans.”
Nadi being Nadi, it should really come as no surprise that she noticed his discomfort. “Not at all. I’m sure Ilya can join us some other day.”
“...That is one thing,” she said, voice still low. “I know you and Portia aren’t the closest pair, but she didn’t just come tonight on her brother’s behalf. She was truly looking forward to spending this evening with you.”
Asra blinked, barely stopping himself from ducking his head, his cheeks hotter now. “I––I see,” he managed to stutter.
He glanced at Nadia’s beautiful amethyst locks. The braid was nothing extraordinary, not like his work with Portia, but upon closer inspection, each part was woven carefully, not a hair out of place.
At his back, he could hear soft humming. Portia’s hands running through his hair were neither too rough or too abrupt, her movements a welcome, almost comfortable, sensation, he had to admit.
“I see,” he repeated. Closing his eyes, for the first time that evening, Asra allowed himself to relax a little.
It wasn’t long before Portia piped up, “Done, milady!”
“Marvelous work, Portia.”
Asra could only glimpse the ends of his braids, the curly tips tied off with lavender ribbons. Did it suit him? He hadn’t worn anything like this in years, he didn’t look too silly now, did he?
“Is there a mirror I could borrow, Nadi?”
“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Portia clapped her hands together. “Let’s all have a look in the mirror together.”
“Splendid thought, Asra. Portia, if you please.”
The last sentence was barely uttered, and already, Portia was on her feet, rushing to pull a large floor length mirror closer to Nadia and Asra. She lifted it up, neither swaying nor faltering as she carried it over.
“Can’t have this scratch your floors,” she explained, setting the mirror down to Asra’s side.
“Thank you, dear. Now, how does the saying go… On three, was it? Alright then, one, two, three.”
All of them turned to look at their new makeovers.
Nadia angled her head, one side to the other, taking in Portia’s handiwork. Her eyes followed the sway of the braid spilling down her back, before she took it in her hand and twirled it, like a child twirling a jump rope in slow circles. Somehow, even that movement appeared nothing short of refined and dignified.
“Absolutely lovely,” she nodded approvingly.
Meanwhile Portia gasped, mouth agape as she took in her own reflection. “Whoaa, you didn’t tell me you were a hairstylist too!”
Nadia glanced at him, smiling. “Asra is a witch of many talents.”
She bobbed her head to and fro, watching the bow shape bob along, and exclaimed, “It’s like I have a fancy dress sash pinned to my head!”
He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Of course it is. Like wow! I didn’t think my hair could be so...magical.” In a quieter voice, he thought he heard her say, “...I look like a princess.”
Which was odd, considering they were both in the presence of a princess, and Nadi wasn’t exactly one for such an extravagant and borderline whimsical sort of fashion, no matter how well she could pull it off.
The hairstyle did suit Portia though, that he would admit.
As for Asra himself, he now had a clearer view of Portia’s handiwork of his own hair. Two braids, simple yet careful and neat in detail, finished off with a flourish, in the form of fluttery ribbons that matched his eyes.
He turned his head, from right to left, and he smiled at the way they bounced.
“Is it alright?” In the mirror, Portia’s forehead was creased with worry, her upturned mouth usually wide with laughter now small and drooping. It was the first time he had seen her confident bravado falter.
He turned to her, amethyst meeting aquamarine. “It’s perfect.”
Portia exhaled, and it was only then he realized that she had been nervous, even more so than Asra himself tended to be with unfamiliar people.
It couldn’t be because of Nadi, considering how close the two of them were, which meant, she was nervous because of….him.
“She was looking forward to spending time with you.”
Had she been holding her breath in, her fears in, this whole time?
Not just while he braided her hair, or while she braided his, but from the moment he had stepped through the door?
It sounded likely, especially considering how obvious it must be that he wasn’t fond of her presence, that his attitude bordered on dislike at times.
Who wouldn’t be nervous?
But it was difficult to dislike someone who was sincere, and seeing how bright her smile was, from that one little compliment––barely three syllables long––he couldn’t help but find something within him shifting.
Asra didn’t like people barging into his walls, digging at his depths and excavating his inner world for his thoughts, his secrets, his emotions. But if a person were to knock, well, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to open a door for them.