#sheirena

Sharena is not one to complain. She puts up with a frankly unreasonable amount of bullshit, from all the usual inconveniences of war to the recent loss of her father—who had been responsible for more than his fair share of bullshit-towards-Sharena. But she likes to keep her head up; it would be easy, she thinks, to fall into despair. As easy as letting a space fall into squalor or letting a garden dry and shrivel. She watches the Commander and her brother persevere daily through horror after horror. Even when she knows that they’re hurting, they never give in to their agony or show any lack of discipline. They keep their chin up and that bravery inspires her, so she does too.

That being said. They’re only two months into the new year but it feels like she’s still trapped in the nightmare that had been last year (again, the recent loss of her father). Sharena has grown used to seizing any opportunity to distract herself and the other Askrans and Heroes from the war effort, which means allowing herself the occasional indulgence. It’s not that she takes her days off for granted, because she values them greatly. But when a knock interrupts her sleep on one of the mornings that she thought no one would wake her until at least mid-day, Sharena is… put-out, to say the least.

“It better be important,” she grumbles to herself, and then desperately hopes that it isn’t. If it’s just Alfonse stopping by to plan for the day, then she can shut him out and jump back into bed without having to properly open her eyes. It isn’t early, not really; there are larks singing outside, and the light radiating through her window is warm against her shoulders. The floor is cold though, and her bed is singing too— sweet ballads beseeching her to go back to sleep while she still can.

When she opens the door, Alfonse is not there. Instead it is the princess of Hel, staring oddly at Sharena. Perhaps she heard the grumbling through the door. Eir is as polished and perfect as ever, blue eyes cold but soft. Since moving into the castle, she has traded out that ancient tattered rag that called itself her dress for Askran clothes, but her hair is still impossibly long without a single knot or matted clump. It falls over her shoulders and reaches down to her trousers. Sharena instantly feels guilty for grousing about getting up.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Eir begins, treading nervously. Maybe she senses Sharena’s guilt somehow.

Sharena quickly reassures her, “No trouble at all!” but her voice is still tender with sleep and it doesn’t sound as bright as she had wanted it to sound. She steps back, pulling the door further ajar— Eir takes this as an invitation and steps forward into the room. Into her bedroom. Sharena blinks. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“It’s… embarrassing,” says Eir. She looks as unaffected and apathetic as usual, the very opposite of embarrassed—except that isn’t wholly true. Sharena is not overly observant and she has only known Eir for a relatively short time, but even she can notice the twinge in the woman’s forehead. Eir shifts on the spot, shoulders rising and falling unevenly. This must be what humiliation looks like when it’s worn by someone who silenced their emotions for their entire life.

Sharena listens and observes for a moment too long and Eir must interpret the silence as curious judgement, because she looks more uncomfortable as she breaks their silence. “I was hoping you could help me with something. For the event tonight.”

“Oh!” Sharena smiles, and watches her own joy mirrored on Eir’s face. The princess has such a beautiful smile that it only makes Sharena grin wider. In all the excitement of getting to sleep in, she’d nearly forgotten the reason for the season. Tonight, the Aether Keep will host a party for the annual celebration of Valentine’s Day. Most of Sharena’s friends have confirmed their attendance, whether they’re coupled up, looking for companionship, or just there for the comradery on an otherwise lonely day. “Yes! That’s right, that’s today! Do you have your eye on anyone?”

Eir’s smile evaporates, and confusion settles in. “Hmm? No, it’s nothing like that! I just thought…” She stares at Sharena, and for a thrilling and glorious moment Sharena dares to dream that Eir came here to ask her to the dance. “Your hair is usually… ah…”

Sharena flushes as pink as the ends of said hair, and she reaches up to pat it down awkwardly. Her hair is usually done up in traditional Askran style; she manages to get away with wearing armour but Queen Henriette still insists on some hallmarks of regal attire. Right now, her hair looks like one of Feh’s nests. She coughs, tucking it behind her ears. “I usually wake up early to do it,” she explains, cringing. “But since we have the day off—”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to cause offense,” Eir raises her hands. It’s such a human reaction— begging for absolution in the goofiest way possible— that Sharena smiles again. “I was just hoping that you would braid mine?”

“Eir! I would love to,” Sharena exclaims, and steps around her friend to finally shut the door again. Her self-consciousness about her own appearance vanishes without another thought, and she bounces over to the bed, flattening out the sheets. “Come… here, you sit here, and I’ll get my brush.”

Eir nods and crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her feet are flat against the floor, her uniform perfectly creaseless even as she sinks into the soft mattress. The morning sun falls across her hands where they lie folded in her lap. Sharena didn’t know it was possible for someone to sit at attention, but it doesn’t come off as austere enough to be unnerving. Just… very polite.

She gets her brush, and a few hairbands and ribbons. Sharena pauses in the mirror to wipe the remaining sleep from her eyes but she doesn’t bother trying to fix her own hair, tying it up into an easy ponytail. When she turns back to the bed, she sees Eir watching her keenly. The thought occurs that Eir has missed out on ‘girl time’ like this… well, unless she counts traumatic memories of her fake mother. Thrasir and Loki don’t seem the type to sit around braiding one another’s hair.

Sharena kneels behind Eir on the bed, supplies in hand. The mattress sinks underneath them and her knees wobble for a moment; Eir doesn’t exactly lean back against her, but it’s a close thing. It’s a really close thing. Sharena stares at the back of Eir’s perfect head for a stunted moment as her nervous system threatens to catch fire. As she so often does, she quickly makes up for the awkwardness with idle chatter. “It’s nice that you came to me instead of one of the others! Olivia always does such long, beautiful braids. I just don’t have the patience to sit around for hours getting it right!”

She takes Eir’s hair between her hands, and the softness of it strikes her silent. Sharena’s hair is nowhere near short but Eir’s is so fine that the length makes it seem impossible, like magical silver thread instead of human hair. Sharena’s hands move over Eir’s shoulders as she gathers all her hair, pulling it back gently so that she can start to brush from the bottom. Eir finally replies, “I don’t want to waste your whole day.”

“What? No!” Sharena realizes her error and groans. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s harder when you’ve got to hold your arms up for that long anyway; I don’t mind doing your hair. You’ve got so much hair, and it’s so beautiful. Really, I don’t mind.” To say the least!

Eir seems to relax. Her shoulders sink down—at least, until Sharena starts running her fingers over her scalp to change the part. Then she freezes up again. She seems to notice it herself though, sighing aloud. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Sharena tuts. She isn’t sure how to tell her that there’s very little Eir could do to annoy or upset her, short of actually defecting from the Order. She pulls Eir’s hair back, gathering into a ponytail, and then ties it high on her head. “Sorry, is that too tight? You usually wear it high like this, right?”

Eir nods. The motion pulls her ponytail out of Sharena’s undemanding grasp, and she stills again. “This is fine.”

“Great!” Sharena begins to separate the fine silver hair, humming. “I think I’ll just do one long braid then, and if you want something fancier, I can curl it up into a bun or something.”

She sets to her task, twirling the thirds around her fingers and tightly braiding Eir’s hair. Sharena really has no clue how Olivia does this every morning; maybe she just sleeps with it up. Or maybe she’s got someone to braid it for her. The thought feels a little too intimate for this close situation; she can’t start thinking about things like that. Not when she can close her eyes and hear every breath Eir takes.

When she’s halfway done braiding the silence grows unbearable. Eir unfolds and then refolds her hands in her lap, and that carefully controlled fidget is enough of a sign to knock Sharena out of her reverie. “So,” she begins. “If you’re not seeing anyone special tonight, what’s the occasion to change up your look? I mean, I always think you look great.”

“Thank you,” Eir says quietly. Sharena’s knuckles brush against the top ridge of her spine and they both freeze. Her skin is cold— not as cold as Fjorm’s skin would be, but nonetheless chilled. Sharena shudders. She wonders if that’s a lived-in-Hel thing or a thing related to Sharena’s window being open. She wonders if she should invite Eir to do this under the covers instead.

Eir snaps back to reality before she can say anything, blustering forward, “I thought it would be a nice change. I asked Commander Anna if I’m expected to wear anything special like a kimono for this… for Valentine’s Day. This holiday is new to me too, just like the others. Hel isn’t a place for celebrations like that.”

Sharena makes sure to pull the braid away from Eir’s skin to avoid more accidental contact. “What did she say?”

“Just to look nice,” Eir says, but she sounds perplexed. “And she also asked if I was going to, ah… look for anyone. Are you going tonight?”

The sudden change of tack gives Sharena whiplash, but she manages to avoid showing her confusion. “Yeah! I guess I’ll dress up nice too. Maybe I’ll even brush my hair,” she jokes.

Eir laughs, short and stunted but beautiful. Sharena nearly melts, hands pausing from their work on her hair. The effect is not helped by Eir saying, “You could wear what you wore to ring in the new year. That looked nice on you.”

Sharena smiles. “I was thinking of wearing pink!”

“It suits you.”

Eir starts to turn to look over her shoulder as she speaks, and Sharena is suddenly very aware of her wide and bright and silly grin. She swallows it down as best she can, freeing up one of her hands to place it on Eir’s shoulder. “Remember not to move around too much,” she says, voice dropping down in volume.

Eir pauses, staring at Sharena in her peripheral, and then shifts to turn back to the room. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“No worries!” Sharena worries that Eir must be able to hear how fast and loud her heart is beating, because right now it sounds to her like it’s trying to escape from its cavity. “So, d-did Anna tell you about the gift-giving traditions associated with Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes. Thankfully I found out early enough to prepare.”

“Really,” Sharena shifts closer. Her knees press against Eir’s lower back, but it’s okay—she’s close to done anyway. “Who did you get a gift for?”

“Anna,” Eir answers, instantly and without shame. Sharena pulls away, staring at the back of Eir’s neck. She’s glad that Eir is turned around, so she doesn’t see Sharena crestfallen.

Anna makes sense, of course; she’s a beautiful and talented commander. Her looks and smarts and clever humour would inspire affection in anyone. “Right.”

Eir continues, thoughtful, “And Kiran.”

This gives Sharena pause. It’s far from unheard of to give multiple people gifts on Valentine’s Day; she’s sure many Heroes will be celebrating amongst their companions tonight, and there’s no reason to think that Eir is any different than those. She’s just never considered the prospect. “Really?”

“And Alfonse,” Eir says. Sharena pales.

“M-my brother?”

Now Eir does turn around, pulling the almost complete braid away from Sharena once more. She shifts on the bed until they’re facing each other, and Sharena slumps down from her knees, sitting eye-to-eye with Eir. Eir, who looks very puzzled. “What’s wrong with that? Do you think he wouldn’t like it? I know he is a serious fighter, but I thought—”

“I just didn’t know you were— that you were interested in that,” Sharena stammers.

Eir squints. “Interested in what?”

“My brother,” Sharena squeaks. “Well, a-and Anna, and Kiran too.”

“Well, of course, and you,” Eir adds.

“And me?!”

“Of course.” Now Eir’s confusion has sent her into distress and that vein pulses between her brows again. “Have I done something wrong? I didn’t want to make a mistake like on New Year’s, so I just picked up gifts for everyone. And I got a few extra gifts too, just in case I forgot someone.”

The words take a long moment to sink in, and then Sharena feels like the biggest fool in all the worlds. “Oh no,” she mutters, and glances at the ceiling, praying for forgiveness. “Oh, oh no, Eir, I’m so sorry— I misunderstood—Anna must not have made it clear to you, um. Valentine’s Day is a holiday for… It’s ro— it’s romantic. You get a gift for someone that you have feelings for, not for everyone!”

Eir stares at her, mouth agape, and then promptly seems to shrink into herself. The emotion and colour drain from her face. “Oh… how embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” Sharena quickly blurts out. “You couldn’t have known!”

“I should have guessed from the way Anna was talking about it.”

“Well, Anna talks like that about a lot of things,” Sharena reasons with her. Eir meets her eyes again, and Sharena reaches out, arm stretching over her shoulder. Eir’s jaw drops again, but all that Sharena does is reach around to retrieve the attempted braid. It’s so much harder to gain control of her hands while they’re sitting like this, with Eir’s face right in front of her. “I’m almost done here.”

Eir doesn’t respond, watching her. She closes her mouth, and Sharena forces herself not to stare, focusing on her task. Even when she isn’t looking up, she can still feel that gaze pinning her down as if she’s the one being held in place. When Eir speaks next her voice is lower, and quieter. Even the larks outside seem to have been silenced, listening raptly to Eir’s breath and gentle words. “Did you get a gift for anyone?”

“I never have the time,” Sharena sighs. “I’m not as diligent as you, I guess. Or as generous!”

“I think you are,” Eir says, low enough that each soft word feels like a punch. Sharena finishes curling the tiniest strands of hair into place, and so she has no excuse not to look back up into Eir’s curious blue eyes. “Diligent and generous. Thank you for helping me with my hair.”

Sharena nods, enthusiastic but quiet. She feels Eir’s intensity and it’s— calming, somehow. She suddenly feels like she could go right back to sleep. Not tired, just relaxed. “I’m glad to help.” She hesitates. “Let that be my gift to you.”

Eir’s eyes blow wide open. For a horrible moment, Sharena’s sure she’s made a mistake and overstepped. An apology is already on the tip of her tongue when Eir smiles again, small and joyous and beautiful. Sharena could march into battle armed only with the memory of that smile, face a hundred troops, and come out victorious. “Thank you,” she repeats, so quiet it’s nearly a whisper. “I’d like to give you a gift too.”

Sharena laughs gently, “Okay,” and reaches up to pull her hair out of its ponytail. “But my hair’s a lot messier than yours was, so that might take all day.”

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