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Her hair was getting longer. Oh sure, it was long enough to come down to her neck when she was Inquisitor, but it’s different now. Longer now. Powder noticed it first when it caught onto her sending crystal’s chain around her neck. Then catching itself on the metal gauntlet Dagna made for her new hand. Even in chipped parts of her nails when she went to scratch her neck.
It’s gotten to the point where it brushes against the top of her back. And gets knotted. Knotted hair was a fight to rival Corypheus.
It was also a never-ending fight, unless she wanted to shave it or cut it. Which, no.
So here Powder stands in front of a large mirror Josephine keeps in their bathroom with a brush she borrowed from Yvette. If her guess is correct, she’s been here for about twenty minutes, and there hasn’t even been a decent dent in the mess. In fact, the knots hidden in hair were sticking out in a frizzy mess.
She brushes a knot again, wincing as it pulls on her scalp.
Powder yelps and levels her reflection with a glare reserved for Corypheus, or the Viddasala… Or Orlesian nobles. If she sees this brush again in her life, it will be too soon.
She actually manages to growl a, “I will conquer you,” before immediately regretting it. Flashes to the Hissing Wastes and red faces as Bull flirted with Dorian. Glad they got together; not glad it took such a toll on her sanity.
It left little sanity for other things. Things like hair. Fucking hair.
She tries to pull at the bottom of a knot again, and again. Each time it pulls back, tugging her scalp with it.
“ Fenedhis! ” She shouts and throws the brush onto the counter with a loud clatter. The thing doesn’t even have the decency to fall off. Her ears twitch and her hand goes to her eyes.
Not crying, she realizes. Mighty exhausted. Grumbling, pouting and yelling will do nothing to fix the situation.
A knock taps ever so lightly and cautiously on the door. “Powder, my love? Why are you throwing things in the bathroom?”
Aw shit.
“Sorry, vhenan, ” she says to Josephine. It’s probably muffled, making her sound much more pathetic. Like a wet kitten. A tiny, pathetic, sopping wet kitten. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
“Sorry?” Josephine asks, probably to herself.
“I’m just a tiny bit,” she eyes the mirror, “in over my head.”
Josephine clicks her tongue. “Come now, my love.” Said with such utter affection. The door handle turns and there’s a whisper of Josephine’s clothing over the door’s wood. Powder quickly quashes the need to high or jump out the window. “If you are in over your head, your burdens are also mine to bear.”
Somehow, Josephine is a master of making Powder feel mushy. A good kind of mushy though!
Then, her and Josephine actually see each other.
“Oh,” Josephine gasps. Her knuckle comes to her lips as she softens the soft ah that usually came after that oh .
Somehow, humiliation is not the feeling Powder feels. She might go with a lesser word like shame, but she also feels… Cared for. The concern in Josephine’s eyes and brow is too much for the shock to overwhelm.
“Things have been,” Powder tries, and fumbles, “busy.”
Josephine lowers her hand. “I know, my love.”
“With your family, and the Inquisition being disbanded, and Solas still out there, and Dorian sent a letter which he never does-”
“Powder, love.” Powder pauses, pursing her lip, averting her eyes. Looking anywhere but Josephine’s face. Her eyes. Kill them with kindness. Her hands are already held tightly by Josephine’s. “You are rambling.”
It’s when her vhenan steps a tiny bit closer that Powder lets the breath out of her lungs. Her hands grip harder, even as she becomes less tense. “My hair just fell to the wayside. I tried fixing it, but now…”
She tilts her head. Looking up at Josephine’s face. The concern is still there but so is love and compassion. So is acceptance, but also a tiny bit of humor and mirth.
Josephine - vhenan - kisses her forehead. Powder’s breath hitches and stutters.
She tucks her face into Josephine’s shoulder as her lover continues to pepper her with kisses. Even leaves some on her ears and cheeks. Yes, kiss the pathetic elf and her messy hair. Make her feel special, Josephine. “I’m a mess,” she tells her, though now tinged with humor.
Fighting with a brush, Lavellan?
“Yes, well.” And Josephine plucks her head from her shoulder and gives her lips a tiny, final kiss. “You are a mess, but that would make you my mess.”
My mess. Powder feels herself sighing dreamily, then her face turning red at Josephine’s grin. Not embarrassment, no. Something else. Mush.
When Josephine’s hands come to cup Powder’s face, she leans heavily into them. Her face practically squished. Josephine runs her thumb over the vallaslin on her cheeks and forehead, spots she has caressed so many times before, and Powder continues to lean in. This is love, Powder thinks.
This is horrible, she also thinks when Josephine pulls away and chooses to grab the brush instead. “Oh, come now,” Josephine giggles. Now Powder’s sure she’s making a face. “I used to brush Yvette’s hair out when we were little, and her knots were always the worst.”
The offer is familiar, even if the words are not. Mamae offering to do her hair after a long day and a bath, or her brother grumbling before forcing her sit in front of him to undo however she managed to cut her bangs this time.
Powder asks without hesitance, “You sure? I’m sure it’s a real mess.”
But Josephine tuts with a smile. “It will not take long, Powder. And I have worked with worse.”
“Of course, vhenan ,” Powder chuckled. Her heart full, even if this might as well be humoring Josephine.
Rather than standing, Josephine guides Powder to a chair purposely facing away from the mirror. When Powder actually settles, she hears Josephine pluck the brush off the counter and open up the cupboard by the mirror. It’s a hunter sense; the cupboard is the only thing that has squeaky hinges in this house.
A bottle and a comb are what Josephine pulled out, whatever lotion or oil in the bottle already added onto her hands. Neat and tidy, as Josephine often is. Before Powder has time to ask or - more likely - jest, Josephine already has her hands on her scalp. Fingers digging slightly, messing with her hair and her head.
If she’s allowed another cat metaphor, Powder rests into it like a spoiled cat. No, not like just any spoiled cat. One of the cats Cole kept close to in Skyhold, one that was too fat to be a basic mouser. Even Josephine’s shocked laugh wasn’t enough for Powder to actively choose to move from it. Instead, Josephine pulls her hands away herself.
“Oh, do not look at me like that, my love,” she cooes and kisses her brow. Then, she grabs the brush.
Powder finds herself firm against the chair again, feeling every move Josephine makes now that the dreaded brush is in her hands. If she squints, maybe it’ll look like Certainty coming for her head.
Josephine brushes carefully with tender strokes, unlike Powder’s more determined ones. Something more careful and experienced. Her hair feels lighter with each stroke. Ones that start at the roots and are picked apart by a comb when necessary.
She is a miracle worker, though Powder long since knew that. Vhenan .
Even making time to kiss Powder nearly breathless once she finishes a knot. Each knot, every knot.
After a few long moments, Josephine smiles with a sigh and sets the brush down on to the counter with some sort of finale. It probably wasn’t moments. It felt like moments. “All done, my love.” Powder feels the kisses on her head before Josephine hooks her chin on top.
Powder is a selfish elf, allowing herself to be pampered just a bit in affection and kisses before she actually gets up and turns to the mirror. She actually managed to recognize herself, now with her hair down.
She gets closer to the mirror, running her hand through her hair again and again. Soft and flowy, and she can actually run her hand through it this time.
Her eyes catch Josephine’s in the reflection. “You’re a lifesaver, vhenan! ” She turns on her heel and briskly walks over, arms wide and waiting.
And Josephine laughs before embracing her love so. “If this really was a matter between life and death, I-”
Whatever else her lover had to say was swallowed up by a kiss.