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Whether it was to play with, braid, or de-tangle, Nimona’s fingers always found their way to Gloreth’s hair. She loved Gloreth’s hair: soft and silky and beautiful. She loved the bounce to them, its spun-gold colour, and especially the single piece of hair that always found its way to her forehead, no matter how often she pushed it back.
Gloreth was never a big fan of her hair. “I want to cut it shorter,” she once said as Nimona fiddled with her hair, the curly locks shimmering around Nimona’s fingers. “But my parents won’t let me; they say I’ll look too much like a boy.”
“So what?” Nimona replied, and she had the urge to shapeshift into a version of Gloreth with even shorter hair. But although Gloreth accepted Nimona’s shapeshifting tendencies, the other girl still wasn’t a big fan of her shapeshifting into other people—especially Gloreth herself. Nimona didn’t like suppressing the feeling, but Gloreth’s company made it worth it. “Hair grows back.”
“That’s what I told them!”
“Why not cut your hair anyway? You know what they say: better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” Nimona said. “Maybe eventually your parents will get used to the new look. I think any kind of length would suit you.”
Gloreth shook her head and Nimona watched, entranced, as the sun hit her hair just so. Sparkles danced in front of Nimona’s eyes. “I can’t. They’d hate me.”
“Over your own hair?”
Gloreth shrugged and turned to face Nimona, her golden hair slipping out of Nimona’s fingers like water. “Let’s play another game.”
And so they did.
~~~
When they rolled around in the grassy hills and explored the forests, Gloreth’s hair always attracted twigs and leaves. “My mom calls my hair a rat’s nest,” Gloreth said with a snort. “I tell her that, if my hair were shorter, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Nimona was always the one to pull the debris out; she found it relaxing, sitting on the edge of the well while Gloreth sat still in front of her. “And what does she say to that?”
“She just sighs at me. Like she doesn’t know what to do with me.” Gloreth curled her legs under herself before continuing, “Like I’m a burden.”
Nimona carefully unwrapped a twig out of Gloreth’s hair, making sure she wasn’t pulling too hard or yanking out any hairs. “Why would you be a burden?”
“Because I’m a girl,” Gloreth said bitterly. “I want to be a knight; I want to change the world. But because I’m a girl, I'm not allowed to.”
“Would you rather be a boy?” Nimona asked curiously.
At this, Gloreth paused. She took a long second before responding. “I don’t know. If I were a boy, I could become a knight.”
Nimona did one last pass through Gloreth’s hair and, satisfied that it was back to its usual shiny self, grabbed Gloreth’s wooden sword leaning against the well. She stood up and offered the sword out to Gloreth. “A knight is a knight—boy or not.”
When Gloreth hesitantly took the sword, Nimona shapeshifted into a bear. “Come get me,” Nimona said, baring her teeth playfully, rising up on her hind legs.
Slowly, a smile grew on Gloreth’s face and she launched herself at bear-Nimona. “Stay back, beast! I’m not afraid to fight you!”
~~~
There was another time, on a particularly windy day, when they were play-fighting as knights up on the hill. But each time Nimona tried to advance, she’d get a mouthful of her own hair, her view of Gloreth completely blocked.
“Here,” Gloreth said, lowering her wooden sword and placing her hands on Nimona’s shoulders. “Sit. I’ll braid your hair back.”
And so Nimona sat on the grass. She felt Gloreth’s feather-light touch as she accidentally grazed the back of her neck while pulling at her long, pink, hair. She was gentle as she split her hair and wove them together. Nimona’s eyes fluttered closed, her heartbeat slowing. She felt like she could fall asleep like this. While she could have just shapeshifted herself to have shorter hair, this seemed better
All too soon, Gloreth tied off the braid and threw the rope of hair over Nimona’s shoulder. “There!” she exclaimed with a bright smile. “Now your hair won’t get in your way anymore.” She once again reached for her sword.
Nimona wanted to sit on the grass forever—wanted Gloreth to play with her hair for an eternity.
But she stood up and raised her sword.
~~~
Nimona occasionally dreams of these quiet moments, although they’re rare. More often than not, her dreams consist of betrayal, loneliness, anger, sadness. And, when she wakes, she feels guilty. Gloreth cast her out; she called Nimona a monster. Gloreth caused everyone else to see her as a monster.
But she can’t help but look back at those memories fondly. She still thinks that the statue of Gloreth has hair far too long, far too stiff, not curly enough. Gloreth’s hair never looked like that.
Gloreth would hate her statue and that makes Nimona smile a little.
She wakes from an especially vivid nightmare where Gloreth and Ballister were looking down at her with frightful eyes, taking steps backwards. “Monster,” they call her, hands going to their swords. “We must eliminate you.”
Nimona shrinks until Gloreth and Ballister tower over her, their expressions turning smug as the points of their swords are shoved in front of Nimona’s face. For some reason, she can’t grow bigger, can’t shapeshift; she’s stuck where she is, as she is.
Nimona wakes up with a start, heart thumping, blood rushing through her ears, and shaking like she’s freezing. Ballister’s already at her side. She doesn’t realize she’s subconsciously shapeshifted into her child form until she feels Ballister running his hand through her long hair.
“Hey, hey,” Ballister mutteres, his fingers catching on a tangle. Gently, he uses his mechanical hand to help unknot the strands before going back to playing with her hair. Already, Nimona feels soothed by the action. “You’re here, you’re okay.”
Eventually, Nimona calms down. She remembers where she is, who she’s with. Ballister brings her a hot chocolate with marshmallows and rambles about his day, still idly playing with her hair. When he pauses, Nimona quirks an eyebrow up at Ballister and asks, “do you think Ambrosius would allow me to braid his hair?”