Chapter Text
Oriana Hawke had long hair once.
Not terribly long, of course, but it wasn’t cut nearly as close to her scalp.
The first haircut she had beyond a trim was when she was small. Some sap got caught in her hair and Leandra had no choice but to cut it out. Ori cried through the whole process; being sternly shushed by her mother and told that this was a lesson she needed to learn. Her mother's words stuck with her, and she vowed to be more careful so nothing would stand in the way of her desire to grow a braid to the floor.
The second was just before she was sent to Ostagar. A soldier with long hair stretching halfway down her back was unsuitable for battle, particularly a battle that involved mages. What if it were to catch fire or entangle itself on a helm that was dented and she needed to discard? But she was nothing if not stubborn, and cut it so it would just barely touch her shoulders. Carver was unhappy that their hair matched and he looked more like her twin than Bethany's.
The third was not long after.
Carver had died. Ori knew she could've, should've, done more to stop it. Killed the ogre before it reached him. Died in his place. Anything. That’s what she told herself. That's what her mother stopped just shy of telling her. But there was no time for tears when what was left of her family was in danger.
It had hit her all at once.
There was a broken mirror in Gamlen’s home tucked away in a far flung corner. Looking into it, she could only see her brother. Before she had a chance to think a dagger was in her hands cutting away at her hair so that at least it wasn't his.
Bethany walked in to see locks of Ori's hair strewn about and that dagger fruitlessly cutting at more. Her face was contorted with grief, hair mangled and uneven. Bethany left the room and returned with a pair of their mother’s sewing scissors and silently began fixing Ori’s hair while she cried just as quietly. Neither would admit to their mother that they were the ones who ruined them. Easier to blame Gamlen's carelessness.
She kept it short with Bethany's help. It was a reminder to not fail her sister like she had their brother.
But then she failed Bethany. She wanted to protect her from the Templars by taking her to the Deep Roads. Instead she was nearly taken by Blight. If Anders hadn’t been there…
Ori's hair grew with no one to trim it. Her mother had offered many times to keep it short like Bethany had, but Ori knew that she wouldn't have been able to stand her mother's hands on her hair.
Merrill noticed as well, and after just two offhanded offers of help Ori let her. They weren't Bethany's hands, but they were just as comforting. She didn't need to renew her promise to keep Merrill safe, but she did anyway.
All too soon the last of her family was taken from her. It took every shred of her willpower to not shave off the last of her hair after she washed out the blood she spilled for Leandra only to feel her mom die in her arms anyway.
Then the sky was engulfed in red and Anders, her friend, this asshole who saved her sister while driving them irrevocably apart, all but begged her to kill him as he bathed in his self-righteousness.
Ori was furious. The last pieces of the life she built for herself in Kirkwall through all of the tragedy came crumbling down around her. She knew she couldn’t sit by while so many people would be needlessly hurt, and she suspected Anders knew that too.
Anders—now with long hair that she had convinced him to grow out, that she had braided for him, combed when he couldn’t himself—refused to look at her from where he sat on the Chantry’s steps. She wanted to hit him, to kill him, destroy something, anything.
But she didn't. She lost the will to even yell. Before now she hadn't thought that she needed to protect him from himself this much. She hoped the silence cut sharper than a knife would've.
She told him to leave, and he did.
A handful of mages from the Circle were saved. Enough to justify leaving behind her life to protect them. Cullen was kind enough to give her a full day to recuperate before the Templars would come after her.
Before they knew it, she was piling what she could onto Isabela's boat. Fenris had nothing important that wasn't already on his person, and he was quiet as he carried bits of her home with him. Merrill was done well before she was, and for the first time they would truly live together. It was hard, leaving Kirkwall. Ten years of loss weighed heavy on her. Her loss weighed heavy on them all.
Anders was there when Ori was carrying the last of her things onto the ship. His hair was shorter, part of it missed by the scissors and still singed from some hours old fire.
This time, she hoped her silence wasn't as sharp.
It took time to get used to the sea, but before she knew it she was looking forward to the salt air and breeze on her face each morning.
Ori’s hair was longer and she felt free.