Work Text:
Lydia hadn’t seen Scott in three days. It wasn’t unusual; actually, it happened quite often. Scott had always been a traveler, tending to go wherever the waters took him without warning, often to distant oceans for weeks on end and away from their little cove between her forest and his sea. Even so, Lydia at least heard from him - whether from the nearby mermaid colony or the winds’ whispers. When he returned, he would always bring back little trinkets to decorate her tree with and stories of distant lands. However, the mermaids had no news from him, and the winds refused to blow.
Lydia couldn’t help but become a bit anxious, wondering what had happened to her dear friend. The mood of the woods had been ripe with worry and tension by the time the winds finally traveled to her again. The winds tickled her ear in greeting, as well as an apology for their absence, before giving her the news of Scott’s return. The nymph immediately ran to the cove, intent on berating Scott for leaving her in such a worried state - but when he finally came into view, she gasped.
Scott’s hair was so short.
The mermaid in question turned around with wide eyes at the sound, frozen stock-still on the edge of the cove. Lydia felt her heart ache as she rushed forward, falling to her knees and pulling Scott close; he made a whining noise and hugged her back just as tightly.
She instinctively went to stroke his hair, but remembered too late its length and that Scott may not appreciate it. He pushed away immediately and dove back into the water. Lydia leaned over the edge and sighed, before saying, “Scott, please…”
The water was still for a few moments before Scott poked his head out of the water, face set in a pout. Now that she’d gotten over her initial shock, Lydia could see how his hair now curled around his ears a bit, messily cut at varying lengths on his nape. It irked her - she was so used to it being long and thick, floating around him in the water, and couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What happened?”
Scott let out a little huff and moved to hold himself to the ground next to the cove, resting his chin in his arms. “I got too close to one of the merchant ports up North,” he mumbled. “I got caught in a fisherman’s net, and I was able to get out, but my hair got tangled in it. I could’ve gotten away if i had time, but the net was going up and I…” He hid his face in his arms. “I had to cut it. I was too upset to come back, I’ve been hiding in the Hale reefs for the past few days. Sorry I worried you.”
“Oh, Scott,” Lydia said, reaching out to pet his hair before stopping. Scott looked up through his lashes before giving her a week smile and taking her hand to rest it on his head. Lydia smiled sadly and stroked his hair as he turned his head so that his cheek was resting on his arms and he could close his eyes, appreciating the sun’s warmth. They sat in silence for a while, before Lydia said, “It’ll grow back. All you have is time, now.”
Scott sighed. “Yeah, I know, it’s just…”
“It’ll be more uncomfortable than the one time Derek got his tail stuck in an old ship steering wheel for a week?”
That memory made Scott laugh, a genuine smile on his face for what Lydia could only imagine was the first in days. An idea sprung to her mind, and she gave him a conspiratorial look before leaning down and whispering, “Want me to brush your hair?“
Scott grinned up at her, though his eyes were wide with surprise. “You really want to?”
Lydia rolled her eyes and patted the rock beside her. “Come on, give me your comb and get up here.” His smile refused to leave his face as he did so, reaching into the waterproof pouch Stiles (one of his human friends from a port town to the South) had given him for his birthday a few months ago, handing Lydia the shell comb and pushing himself up onto the rock.
The red-head began combing his dark hair, and they fell into a soothing silence, interrupted only by the waves crashing against the shore nearby and the soft noises of the animals in Lydia’s woods. They hadn’t done this since they were small, when his mother had finally allowed him to come closer to land, and Lydia stepped foot out of her tree for the first time. They met at the cove, wanting to get as close to each other’s very different worlds as possible, becoming close friends immediately. Only a few days after they’d met, Scott had asked Lydia to brush his hair (which had reached his waist at the time), and she gladly accepted. It wasn’t until Scott’s mother showed up angry that she discovered allowing someone to brush a mermaid’s hair was an incredibly intimate gesture. They now reserved it for only certain occasions; Lydia figured this was one of them.
She was taken out of her thoughts by Scott shakily saying, “How long do you think it will take? Y'know, to- to grow it back.”
Lydia stilled her hand. “I’m… I’m not sure.” Her own hair simply corresponded with the state of her woods. Thin and short in the fall and winter months, long and thick in summer and spring - it wasn’t like Scott’s hair, which grew with age like a mortal’s. Lydia pursed her lips before saying, “I’ll keep brushing it till it grows back, if you’ll allow me.” Scott fidgeted with some of this scales. “Don’t feel like you have to-”
“I want to.”
Scott turned around and met her eyes, deep brown meeting gentle blue, before grinning once again and leaning back into her. She went back to brushing his hair, and simply smiled when Scott murmured, “Thank you for this.”
Lydia really didn’t think it was warranted any thanks. She simply liked caring for Scott, brightening his spirits the same way he did for her countless times, and missed the intimacy that came with brushing his hair. It calmed them both in a way nothing else could - and, secretly, Lydia hoped he would continue to let her, even after his hair was back to its former length.
(Scott was more than happy to.)