Chapter Text
Shenette led Karathael back to the cottage she shared with her grandparents, making sure that no one saw her friend’s chaotic brown mop of hair. The pair couldn’t avoid walking right past Granny on the porch, but the old woman somehow managed to keep a straight face. “We’re borrowing your scissors,” Shenette announced as they walked past.
“Not the shiny-handled ones!” Granny yelled back a moment later, turning to address them from her chair. “Touch my fabric shears and it will be the last thing you do!”
“I know!” Shenette dug through the craft basket and pulled out a delicate pair instead. It had handles elegantly shaped to make the blades seem like the beak of a bird. “Faranth forbid someone touch the fabric shears,” she muttered with a laugh before addressing Karathael’s hair.
The younger woman sat on one of the kitchen chairs, giving Shenette a better angle to examine the damage. “I want it to be short.”
“Oh, it’s going to be short, alright. Up and over the ears.” She began snipping here and there, trying to even out the shape. Shenette had only ever done trims on her own long, golden tresses, and fixing Karathael’s hack job was not the same at all. “I think I saved it. I do have bad news for you, though.” She stood back to assess her work.
“What’s wrong?” Karathael put her hands up, running them through her inch-long hair. It felt strange. Light. Good.
“If you grew out your beard, you’d look exactly like Short Thaeleron.”
“HEY!” Karathael stood up and tried to snatch the scissors from her friend’s hand. She was standing on tiptoe, holding them up high so her friend couldn’t reach.
Their antics were interrupted by Granny’s voice calling from the front porch. “Shenette! Harper Jefisden is here to see you!” The two young women exchanged a curious glance before Shenette left to greet him, leaving Karathael to sweep up the mess.
Shenette gave her former teacher a tight smile. The last time she’d talked to him, he’d refused to recommend her to Harper Hall. She’d reacted with her usual restrained politeness, holding her tongue only to avoid having a reputation among the harpers before she ever made it to the Hall. “Master Jefisden. What brings you here today?”
The blonde looked questioningly at her grandmother, but Granny only shot her a characteristic, enigmatic smile. “You two have your talk, I’ll be inside.” She groaned with the effort of standing up, her bones giving a slow, painful-sounding creak, but she set her project on the table and went into the kitchen with Karathael, closing the door behind her.