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The bow of the Stormchaser rocks slowly in the breeze. Inside Lucius’ quarters, the high elf sits propped up by a small mountain of pillows. A thick layer of green paste covers his features. A faint smile shifts the mask as Nova recounts another story from her time at the Atlas Academy. The ganasi holds Lucius’ hand delicately but firmly as she applies a coat of bright orange polish. The small glass bottle stands out starkly against her deep blue skin.
Nova pauses her rant about a certain fire genasi to concentrate on swiping the tiny brush along one of Lucius’ fingernails. Despite her best efforts, a generous amount of colour ends up decorating his cuticles and skin. Lucius smiles.
Aila hovers beside the monument of cushions, examining the jar of the thick, green mixture with narrowed eyes. To her right sits a tower of ceramic plates, pilfered from the kitchen while Howard was distracted.
“Where did you get this stuff anyway?” Aila asks, waving the large jar in Lucius’ direction.
“Oh, Nanny gave it to me while we were in Gusthaven,” Lucius responds, his eyes flicking towards the barbarian woman. “It really is quite nice, you should try it. It’s good for your skin.”
Aila huffed “And end up looking like you? No thanks.”
By the time Sentry and Quil return, Aila is sat beside Lucius, a similar green mask painted across her face.
“I thought you didn’t want to join us?” Quil joked lightly, holding the door open for Sentry.
“Shut up, they were right, it’s very refreshing.” Aila shoots back, not opening her eyes.
“Hopefully this will help too,” Sentry announces, raising the large stone basin in her hands. Steam curls in thick tendrils from the surface of the water within and fills the air with a relaxing scent.
“We asked Greylano for some warm water, and she suggested this flower.. what did she call it? Lavender! She says it’s meant to help with relaxation,” Quil supplies.
“Oh yes! I’ve heard of that,” Nova pipes up. “I’ve never seen it growing but sometimes people would sell lavender oil or dried flowers back home.”
Carefully, Sentry walks into the room and places the basin next to Nova.
“We got those for you, Sentry,” Aila says, waving her hand towards the stack of plates.
Sentry gasps and brings her hands up to her face.
“Aila! Thank you, you shouldn’t have.”
“Just try not to let Howard see you with them,” Aila responds.
“That reminds me!” Nova chirps. “Just wait one second.”
She carefully screws the lid of the nail polish back on and places it beside her. With a flourish of her hand, she casts prestidigitation and the plates begin to gently heat. Sentry folds her legs beneath her and sinks to the ground. She holds a plate from the tower in her hands for a moment before bringing it up to her face. A contented sigh escapes her.
Quil crosses the room and plucks a particularly soft pillow from the mass behind Lucius and Aila. Placing it on the ground, he sits cross legged on top of it, a smile dancing across his avian features.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to paint your talons, Quil?” Nova asks, brandishing the brush in his direction.
“N-no thanks, Nova, I’ll be alright.” He chuckles lightly.
“Orange does seem to be your colour,” Sentry inputs.
Quil’s eyes flick towards Lucius and beneath the fine feathers on his face he blushes crimson.
A knock at the door interrupts them from their conversation.
“Hi everyone,” calls a familiar voice from the hallway. Fayeth tilts her face upward to sniff the air. “What is that smell?” She looks around the room, taking in the sight of Lucius and Aila. She laughs quietly. “And what is that on your faces?”
“It’s called a face mask,” Lucius replies.
“They’re very relaxing,” Aila adds.
“Alright then,” Fayeth chuckles and circles around the group to sit next to Lucius. Her tail sweeps rhythmically across the floor behind her. She gently takes hold of his hand not currently in the grip of Nova. The pads of her fingers brush softly against his knuckles. He gives her palm the faintest of squeezes.
The chamber fills with casual conversation. Banter and stories flow through the air. Lucius doesn’t contribute more than a few words here and there, content to let the sounds of his family wash over him.
“All done!” announces Nova after finishing a second, slightly more precise coat of orange on Lucius’ fingernails.
Lucius unwinds his second hand from Fayeth’s to admire the both of them together.
“Next time we’re in town, I can pick up a blue polish, then you’ll always have your magic with you!” Nova exclaims.
Lucius laughs, tossing his head back. “That would be fantastic, Nova.”
Fayeth’s ears swivel towards the door. “I should probably go, otherwise Kamara’ll start looking for me,” she says, rising to her feet.
“Alright,” Lucius looks up at her. He reaches for her hand to squeeze once more before letting his fall away.
“It’s been lovely talking with you all,” she says on her way out the door.
“You too, Fayeth,” Sentry calls back.
“Now that this is done,” Lucius begins, wiggling his fingers towards Nova, “you must let me teach you how to braid your hair.”
“Lucius, I don’t think you ca-“ Nova protests.
“Nonsense, who do you think spent all those years braiding Edea’s hair?” Lucius gently grips Nova’s shoulders and nudges her to turn around.
“Didn’t you have a nanny?” asks Quil.
“Nanny taught me how to braid,” Lucius answers, situating himself behind Nova. “But Edea wouldn’t sit still long enough to learn.”
Lucius tries to sift his fingers through Nova’s hair only to find it float out of his grasp. He frowns. Nova shifts in front of him.
“It’s alright Lucius, it’s not your fault. It’s just, my hair is closer to an actual cloud than, well, hair.”
Lucius chuckles, but the lines of the frown do not completely dissipate. “I’ll just have to show you on Aila then.”
“Oh no, no, no, no. The face mask was enough.” She protests but the words have little bite to them.
The party laugh, even Aila’s mouth turning upward at the corners.
Lucius’ gaze ducks for a moment toward his hands, before catching Quil’s eyes and sending him a smile.
---
Several weeks later, Nova stands in the hallway outside Lucius’ quarters. A bottle of nail polish the colour of her skin is held in one hand.
“Lucius are you still-“
Nova presses her hand gently against the wood of the door then hesitates. A muffled sob breaks the silence of the hallway.
“Lucius?”
She gingerly pushes the door open, surprised to feel it give freely under the weight. The soft yellow light of the hall spills into Lucius’ chambers and falls across a figure curled beside the bed. Lucius sits with his legs pressed against his chest and his head buried between his knees. One hand clutches at his throat, while the other is knotted into his blonde hair. Without the barrier of the door, Lucius’ stuttering inhales suffocate the chamber.
Nova hovers in the doorway for a moment longer. She shifts her weight between her heels and the balls of her feet and the floorboards creak.
Lucius’ ear twitches and his head shoots up. Nova catches a grimace pass across his features as the fist still balled in his hair tugs slightly.
“Oh, Nova, I-“ His voice scratches at his throat.
“Is now a bad time?” Concern laces her voice.
His hands uncurl from around his hair and throat and shift to his face where he attempts to desperately scrub away the tear tracks that split his cheeks.
“No, of course not? Why would it be?”
He lets out a weak chuckle.
Nova tries her best to smooth the creases forming on her brow and crosses the room towards Lucius. He shuffles slightly to make space on the ground but instead Nova carefully situates herself on the bed directly behind him. Her brow furrows again, this time in concentration as she begins carding her fingers through his hair. The long blonde strands sift through with little resistance.
“Did I ever tell you about my mum’s bakery? I always told everyone back home it was the best in all of Vortinsar. There wasn’t a day in the Academy where I didn’t come to school with a freshly baked pastry. Of course I had to be very careful, I couldn’t risk getting all that icing sugar and jam all over my desk and the books.”
Slowly, as exhaustion tugs on Lucius’ mind, Nova’s words shift into pleasant noise. He closes his eyes and leans back against her shins. The gentle pulling on his scalp and the soft babble of her voice lulling him into a calm. Nova feels his body shift slightly with each breath, the rhythm evening out to a content rise and fall.
When she is finished her work, she places a hand on Lucius’ shoulder and squeezes lightly.
“All finished,” she says, softly.
Lucius blinks his eyes open slowly, unsure of whether he was entirely conscious or if he had slipped into a trance.
Nova tilts her body sideways to reach across the comforter toward the bedside table. The glint from the hand mirror briefly catches her silver speckled face before she hands it to Lucius. The shaking of his hands steadies as he angles the glass to admire Nova’s work. He raises his fingers to brush along the ridges of the braid curling from his right temple to the left side of his head, where it ended in a soft plat. It was certainly not the most skilled braid Lucius had ever seen. The tension was uneven and loose hairs tickled his neck. But to Lucius it was perfect.
“After you tried teaching me the basics, I found a book in one of the port towns we passed and I’ve been studying. I know it’s not the best but, well, it’s really more of a skill you have to practice and I haven’t had anyone to practice on because, you know, Quil and Sentry don’t really have hair, and Aila-“
“It’s wonderful, Nova” Lucius says, catching her eyes in the mirror and cutting short her rambling.
A soft purple blush graces her cheekbones. “Thank you.”
Nova shimmies along the bed and awkwardly hoists herself down onto the floor beside Lucius.
“You know you can come talk to us any time, Lucius? Day or night, just come knocking on my door, or maybe use the messenger ring. As long as I’m not asleep. You could also go see Sentry, she is moral officer after all. Or Quil, he’s alright with this kind of thing. I don’t know if Aila would know what to do but I’m sure she’d want to try.”
Nova pauses for a moment.
“What I mean is, we’re family, Lucius, and we care about you, all of us. So whatever you need, we’re here for you.”
Lucius blinked against the mistiness gathering across his eyes.
“Thank you, Nova. It really.. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” she replies, a soft smile playing on her face.
Hesitantly, Lucius drops the tension in his shoulders, allowing them to sink from around his ears for a moment. Incrementally, he leans his body towards Nova until his temple presses against her shoulder. After a moment, she returns the gesture, her head tilted to rest on the top of his.
A slight shift ruffles the braid in his hair and his mind is drawn to his family. To Nanny and Edea. And to the crew of the Stormchaser, who he knows now without doubt, will always be there for each other, and for him.