Private Tales In the Warm Ale

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A second of hesitation before Everleigh bound for the chest, hand going to the small of her back to pull out a small wide-tooth comb made of bamboo. Everleigh was partial to hairbrushes and combs made of wood, even if the metal ones lasted longer, she thought the wood helped with absorbing oil on missions that went too long without a bath in between.

With Ralene’s back to her front, in between her legs, Everleigh hunched forward to begin the serious mission of smoothing out every single hair on Ralene’s head. With precision and a peculiar methodology, Everleigh started on the challenge before her.

“Your hair is thick.” She commented, observant and honest. “And you have a lot of hair.” Plenty of girls had little hair but thick hair, or thin hair and lots of hair, but Ralene had been blessed with thick hair and lots of it. “But metal will pull out more hair than needed.” Everleigh said before letting some quiet settle between them. She was gentle with her combing, sectioning hair one at a time so not to cause any discomfort to Ralene, or to shock her scalp.

“It’s easier to protect the hair you have than to wait for it to grow back, even if it’s supposed to be stronger than it was before.”


Samantha Black

 

[Samantha Black]

"Didn't use to have quite this much if you recall," she smirked at the thought. Her hair had certainly been through some changes in her life at the academy. Allowed to grow long from the age of 4 to 8, when she'd been selected to join the initiates chosen for training within the Knights it had been suggested to her at the time by the overseeing Commander to shorten it. She'd opted for a drastic change, shaving her sides completely and leveling the top portion of hair to no longer than jaw length.

It had remained that way for the duration of her tutelage at the academy, and only in her last year had she begun to let it grow out all over. Grow it did, and quickly. She couldn't be certain why, thought perhaps it had something to do with her diet and maybe the particular ingredients used in her tattoos but now it was well past her shoulders, thick, and at times a bit unruly. She kept it in check with plaits lined with leather strips and held by metal bands. But aside from washing and braiding, she didn't pay it a whole lot of attention.

Her eyes closed as she leaned back against the chest with a sigh, "Don't think I could manage it if it were as long as yours."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“It’s my stupid trophy.” Everleigh said, a wry quirk of her lips that would be unseen by Ralene but could be heard instead. “Helped me lie about being untouchable.” The proctors saw through it, but any adult could see through a child’s schemes with a single look.

She thought back to when she turned twenty, before graduation. The exhaustion she had felt from the tests seeped back, bones aching, muscles sore, shoulders and head too heavy. She could feel the cool breeze against her face as if she were walking away from the dining hall, lamenting over spilled milk. An initiate had cut off a lock of hair, smug and victorious. Even the initiates had found out later that it was a lie, too. Everleigh was too human, or that last year had made her too human.

“My mother’s hair was so thick,” she began, “that when she took it out of her braid at the end of the day, it would be straight again in half an hour.” Ralene’s hair was now smooth, manageable. Everleigh didn’t worry if her fingers would catch and tug on the jet black tresses, fingers pulling three small strands from the center-most part of Ralene’s brow. She used the teeth of the comb to tidy it up, enjoy the stark, straightness of fair skin that cut through the curtains of black.

This time she might have tugged too hard here and there, but her fingers were quick, the action almost as familiar as breathing.

“We’ll do something a little fancy,” Everleigh explained, after the third time she tugged by accident as she collected more hair to add to the braid. “Keep it to one braid so you’re comfortable but we can play with how the braid starts.” Another tug. “If it hurts, you can say so.” She added, trying to be more gentle. “I think my pain tolerance makes me forget how to be gentle sometimes.” A symptom usually found amongst the dreadlords.

Samantha Black

 

[Samantha Black]

Once the combing had finished and the fingers were in her hair, Ral closed her eyes and issued a contented hmmmm from deep within her chest. Having one's hair preened was one of those guilty pleasures she'd enjoyed at the hands of many bedmates and many a whore found in the various brothels she'd patronized over the years.

“If it hurts, you can say so.” She added, trying to be more gentle. “I think my pain tolerance makes me forget how to be gentle sometimes.” A symptom usually found amongst the dreadlords.

"You and me both," murmured in reply. It wasn't so much pain to her as it was simply rougher attention. It felt nice, even, as it pulled and plied her hair roots against the direction they'd been braided into for the past week or so. Soothing, painful relief, like an ice bath on tired and sore muscles.

"I paid extra for braids at the brothel I stayed at in Alliria," no shame in admitting to that, "the ladies were more than happy to spend the time playing with my hair, and I more than happy to let them. Pull as hard as you need to, it doesn't hurt."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The only time others had touched Everleigh’s hair was to command control of her head, which granted them the momentum needed to push and pull her body one way or the other. When she went to the only brothel she dared to visit, even then her hair had been used against her. She had liked that, but not enough to ask Erland to braid her hair.

“Well, this is free,” Everleigh said, keeping her gaze on the swarth of midnight only disturbed by the contrast of her fingers. “Purposeful hair pulling is going to cost you extra.” A nervous jest that didn’t seem so nervous when said aloud and unable to see the sidelong glance Everleigh gave to the floor.

“But I’ll try being gentle.” Even if she didn’t ease her grip or dissuade herself from needing each strand folded around the others to be absolutely perfect. “Better to learn it at some point, maybe sooner rather than later.”

Samantha Black

 

[Samantha Black]

“Purposeful hair pulling is going to cost you extra.”

That got a chuckle out of her and she very nearly asked what the fee was, but held her tongue as Everleigh continued speaking. The smirk on her lips softened to think how such talk would never have passed in their earlier years at the academy. Not that she'd have let Everleigh anywhere near her to begin with in those days. Especially not for something as close and intimate as braiding her hair.

"Gentleness is nice, too," Ral admitted, thinking of her own experiences at brothels. There was a time and place for rough tumbles in the bed, and a time and place for gentle passion. She'd run the gamut of all styles and types since coming of age and wasn't sure which she preferred.

It had always really depended on her mood.

"Just pretend I'm one of the kids," Ral gave her head a playful little wobble side to side to imitate the exuberance of youth and reached to tug on the left leg of her pants, "I have to pee, Proctor Ebersol."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A snort and an unflattering chortle had Everleigh quickly biting her lower lip and looking away for a split second as if Ralene had eyes on the back of her head and could possibly see the flare of heat across her cheeks. Everleigh saw it as a joke, but it worked. The tension melted, heart soaring. There was something about being called proctor that she liked, and while she wasn’t sure why, she was certain it wasn’t because it was a title associated with cruelty and sadism.

“What a peculiar appetite you have, Banick. I’m afraid I’m not very good at roleplaying, either.” Everleigh pulled one section of the braid over, twisting it and tying it so she could get to the other side and begin the process all over again. The small sections, slowly growing bigger, bit by agonizing bit.

Samantha Black

 

[Samantha Black]

And with one simple word her smile vanished from her face.

The Lieutenant fell silent, suddenly lamenting her negligence of informing Everleigh about her new name. To be called Ralene by her old classmates was one thing, but the tie to House Banick would forever and always be a step too far for her liking. Was enough to make her go rigid, as if Everleigh had injected poison purposefully into the conversation.

She hadn't, of course, but it soured and stung all the same.

"That's not-" brow furrowed, lips drew thin within the pressure of a jaw clamping tightly shut on the anger attached to the sentiment. She bit it back and swallowed it like a bad pill and loosed a slow exhale.

"That's not my name anymore. I should have told you from the start... I just ... wasn't expecting the conversation to go on this long."

A silent beat, she shifted just enough that Ev would see the flash of cold blue peering back from within a thick outline of khol, "My name's Samantha Black, now. So far as the rest of the world is concerned, Ralene Banick died at graduation."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh believed every initiate at the Academy was a murderer, or would one day become one. All it took was one body, and even those who gravitated towards something was beneficial to making like healing… even the healers would become murderers. While Everleigh understood she had killed many, that her magic which was so evil it even rejected healing, she had never considered murdering her identity.

Everleigh Ebersol remembered her last name, her childhood, her parents, even the lullaby he mother sang to her while she was in the womb. Her name held such significance to her, something she labeled as the only good to her character. It was because she clung onto this goodness that she couldn’t give herself a new identity. She would immediately sully it with blood and confusion, poison and pain.

She tried to think about what potential this new name held for Ralene, even went as far to wondering what her old classmate thought of good and evil. If they were closer, perhaps she would have asked such a thing. But Everleigh knew her place, and then again, would having an answer even change Everleigh’s mind?

“I like the name Samantha,” Everleigh said finally. “Samantha Black. Has a nice ring to it. Actually, it suits you.” Everleigh wasn’t gentle in her tight grip, fastening the braids and rest of the hair together, placing pieces here and there before tightening it all in place. “This hair suits the name Samantha Black much better than Ralene Banick. Good riddance to her. Did I ever tell you that she used to make me nervous?” Her voice lowered into quiet conspiracy, matching the sly smile and squint of her violet eyes.

Samantha Black