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“Are you sure that you are all going to be alright?” Maynilee asked, hiding behind her curiosity tingles of worry and, perhaps, disappointment. “Wouldn’t you want me to go with you?”
“Oh no, feel no worries about us! We are going to be just great,” Wyll replied reassuringly. “You should get your well-deserved day off after all, hero ,” he said proudly at the end of the sentence.
Maynilee half-closed her eyes to hide her eyeroll. Hero , huh. She certainly didn’t think of cleaning The Goblin’s Camp down as something big, less to say heroic . But she enjoyed the party in her name afterwards, all of the wines and music... how the evening gathering slid into sharing a very special moment with one of her companions...
She slightly shook her head to get the recently acquired memories out of her mind. The drow looked around her camp. Wyll is standing right there, ready to face all of the challenges that the world has prepared for today. Maynilee looked further at L'azel, putting one of her knives behind her belt, and Shadowheart taking a last glance at her tent before leaving.
“You will definitely want to hear great stories of our adventures afterwards, May,” Gale said sarcastically behind Maynilee’s back, like he appeared out of nowhere, so deep May was into her thoughts.
“Like you weren’t forced to go, Gale,” May thought. It was right to send Gale with everyone else; she didn’t know why she thought so, but she trusted her gut feelings.
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The camp now feels empty, as the party left for the day, without her. May was for the first time left at the camp. Not all alone: Astarion was probably somewhere out there doing his new favourite thing—sunbathing, and Karlach was training at the corner of the camp.
Perhaps Wyll was right: she could use a day of rest here and there. May sighs at the thought, and her hands intuitively touch her long silver braid on her shoulder. “Maybe I should take a long, relaxing bath in the river,” May thought, feeling a thin layer of dust and some leaves on her hair. She frowned slightly with disgust before stepping out of the camp and making her way into the forest.
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No one tells how hard it is to take good care of your hair, especially when its length is reaching your hips, especially when you started taking care of it by yourself at the absurd age of 170 years old.
The way her own hands were spreading flower oil on her wet hair as May was sitting under the shadow of a tree reminded her of that time in her childhood. How the maids were braiding her hair every morning, weaving them into webs to resemble the obedience Maynilee’s house had for Lolth. How her mother would stroke her hair and how May’s effort is helping the family house... How Maynilee had escaped her mother’s house, left all alone, exploring the world outside of the Underdark.
As she closed her eyes, her swarm of thoughts deepened, not only about the past but the future as well, ignoring how her hands started to form one braid, like out of habit.
“Hey soldier!” Something snapped Maynilee out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked up at the source of the noise and the warmth, so unusual in the shadows.
Karlach. She was standing in front of Maynilee, smiling, her hands on her hips. A couple traces of sweat went from her forehead and down her neck. She was radiating with happiness and power. After Dammon stabilised her infernal engine, she seemed even more eager to be closer to people, as now she is sure her engine will not melt the second she gets too excited about something.
“Care to join me for a little sparring round?” Karlach asked, her eyebrows raised in anticipation and her smile spreading even more.
“That would be just on time,” May replied, giving a smile back to Karlach. “I have a lot on my mind, well , in it. Sparring round could come in handy to clear my head.”
“That’s the way to go! Meet me at the fighting scarecrows in 5 minutes,” Karlach added after walking back to the camp with excitement.
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A little sparring round turned into a couple of hours of sparring. The sound of swords clenching echoed through the camp as well as Karlach’s victorious laughter. She was clearly having the upper hand in this battle, even though it took some effort to do so.
“Is May already willing to give up?” Karlach made a little sad face, mocking a bit tired Maynilee. “Should I be more gentle with you?”
“Ha, you wish!” May stood in a defensive position as Karlach leaned closer to attack. Both of their blades hit each other, making loud clenching sounds.
Karlach kept attacking with hopes of losing May’s defence, while May kept her defence strong, looking for the right moment to make the first and final breakthrough of the round. And finally, the moment had come: the grip on May’s sword tightened as she was ready to make a leap. To avoid that from happening, Karlach swung her sword right in front of Maynilee, which made her take a jump back. She landed on her feet before losing her coordination and starting to fall backwards.
She closed her eyes, accepting that she was eventually going to fall before she felt how a pair of big and hot hands gripped her shoulder and the back of her collar and threw her to the left almost effortlessly, just like a kitten. May landed on the backside, her elbows scratching against the small rocks.
“What the-,” May looked confused watching the place she would have fallen originally: right there on the ground there was a pile of swords, harnesses, and gear about whose existence she totally forgot. As Maynilee was ready to stand up, she noticed one more thing: the smell. Mix of burnt leather, fireplace, and acid. Why? And…why does her head feel so light all of a sudden?
May jumped back on her feet and looked at Karlach. She was standing in front of her, holding something burning in her hand, and looking at it with a terrified expression. Something that was burning down in Karlach’s hand was a piece of May’s braid… well, most of it seemed to “snap” by mistake when Karlach grabbed the back of May’s collar.
“Fuckin’ hells, soldier,” Karlach looked at May “I am so so sorry, Maynilee, it-”
May slid her hand into her hair; now it was barely reaching her shoulders, and its ends were awful to the touch, like burnt fabric and dry grass. “Oh,” the last thing the drow wanted to do was show how much it upsets her. Karlach already looks like guilt is eating her inside out.
“I am sure we can fix that,” May smiled to Karlach, making sure to hide tingles of worry in her voice. “Maybe a new haircut would look nice on me. No big deal, Karlach, it’s alright.”
“But it was your thing—like a big thing thing! I just can’t believe it is now ruined just because…of me! Shit!” Karlach muttered before adding, “Are you... Is everything else alright? I mean, did I burn you?”
May looked over at her shoulder. The fabric of her attire burned a bit, but otherwise she was totally alright; she had been in situations worse than burned shirts and unexpected haircuts.
“I am fine, Karlach." Maynilee sighed, trying to keep a smile on her face “Hmm, let’s see what I can do with my hair now. Should I ask Astarion if he could fix it for me?”
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“You two did what !? Oh, darling, I'm begging you to tell me again! I haven’t had such a good laugh in ages !” Astarion said through his laughter, “I wouldn’t believe it if anyone else said that, but I can quite imagine you and Karlach getting into this sort of situation.”
Maynilee frowned at him. As much as she liked Astarion, she hated even more how easy it was for him to mock and play with her and how every time May let it happen. Even now, she was standing in the middle of his tent and just taking it in.
“Can’t you just stop with all the laughing? Astarion, please; it isn’t that hard to be a good boy and help me." May smiled slightly.
Astarion rolled his eyes before kneeling in front of one of his bags and pulling out a pair of embroidery scissors with an elegant carving on them. “That should work,” he said, getting up and walking closer to Maynilee. “Now sit down and don’t you dare to move.”
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“All done,” Astarion said, tossing the scissors aside and handing Maynilee a mirror. “I think that I have done everything to make your hair look presentable, given the situation you were in.”
May looked at her reflection in the mirror, slowly turning her head from side to side: her silver hair was slicked back slightly, its length barely covering half of her neck. She stood up, still looking at her own reflection.
“How do I look?” Maynilee asked.
"Well, of course great, my dear; I was the one who fixed that!” Astarion replied.
“ How do I look, Astarion? Tell me.” May said in a lower voice as she stepped closer to him, entering his personal space. It wasn’t probably the best timing for something like this, but all she wanted was some reassurance and maybe a couple of nice, honest words from him.
“Maynilee, you look wonderful , and it doesn’t matter what is going on with your hair,” Astarion lowered his voice as well, looking into May’s eyes, “but I am disappointed that now I won’t be able to grip on your hair and guide you into the right paces.” He added in whisper, his words thick and sweet, just like honey. "It seems like Wyll and others have made it back to the camp. Don’t you want to ask them how their day went? Show your new haircut, hm? We will talk later, my dear.”