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Felix looked at the dagger he was holding hesitantly, then, he looked at their friends, eyeing both of them individually. At this point in the night, Sylvain was more than drunk, and Ingrid almost matched him, so she would be more or less the same. As he expected, neither of them held his gaze for more than a few seconds, which gave him confidence. He inhaled deeply, and he spoke to both of them.
“So, are you both still sure of this?” His tone was even, although, even as drunk as they were, they couldn’t miss the threat underlying his words. Surprisingly, Ingrid wants the first to speak.
“Yeah Felix, for Sothis’ sake, just do it! How many times have you told me that my braid was too dangerous for a battlefield? Well, now it’s your chance to end it! If you don’t do it, I’ll ask Sylvain to do it, and we don’t want it, right?” She snapped, with the alcohol clearly affecting her judgment. Inhaling deeply once again, Felix repeated how they even got there in the first place.
They were just relaxing near a fire after having dinner together in the camp, when Sylvain disappeared and came back shortly after with a bottle of whiskey he got Goddess knows where, and all went downhill from there. He had drunk a fairly low amount of alcohol, but it clearly wasn’t the same case with his friends, given their state. Then, after Ingrid complained once again of the suitors his father was sending over her even as she was fighting in the frontlines and him complaining that his long hair was a nuisance, which left a wide open for Sylvain’s comment.
“So, Felix, why don’t you solve it right now? Cut her hair! So you both stop complaining and save me a headache!”
Felix instantly recoiled at his suggestion, but to his dismay, Ingrid actually was giving Sylvain’s idea a thought. This actually terrified him more, because yeah, he could chop some hair here and there, but he had actually no idea of how to give a proper haircut.
“Ingrid,” he started. “you aren’t seriously considering this, right? Do you really want me to destroy your hair?”
He couldn’t even answer her, since Sylvain immediately interrupted only to put more pressure on him.
“Come on Felix, it’s either you or me, and we both know I’m too drunk to do it. Do you want her to regret it even more in the morning?"
"Hey!" Ingrid cut them, "Why would I regret it?"
"Because I'm chopping your hair." Felix deadpanned. "With a dagger, Ingrid. That's why."
"I don't care Felix! Just do it!"
He sighed in defeat, as he got up to grab his dagger to end his suffering.
Which led them back to the present, with Felix moving to where she was sitting to be able to cut her hair.
"Last call, Ingrid. You can still retreat." He tried for the last time, although he knew that his effort would be useless, as she quickly confirmed when she answered.
"Go ahead, Felix, the sooner you start the sooner we'll be done with it."
“Okay, stay still, then. Don’t get angry at me in the morning when you see it.”
He sighed once again, and braced himself for what he was going to do. He grabbed her braid with his hands, then he picked his dagger, he inhaled deeply one last time and slashed through her hair in one smooth gesture. As her hair fell down to the ground, he took a step back, finally allowing him to breathe quietly now that the idea of their two very drunk and very idiotic friends had been executed.
“So? How is it, Felix? Is it good?" Ingrid asked him, turning around. Sylvain stood in his place watching the scene unfold, but he was unusually quiet for how much he had spoken before.
"Your braid won't be in the middle now, so it'll serve its purpose. But it looks terrible, so you should visit a hairdresser or something to fix it before your father sees it and has a heart attack."
“Really Felix? Do you always have to be so rude?” She huffed indignant.
"It's not being rude, Ingrid. It's being honest." He pointed out before continuing. "And now if you'll excuse me, I'll go to sleep. Your drunk bastards have drained all my energy. Goodnight I guess."
With that, he turned on his heels and went back to his tent, leaving only Ingrid and Sylvain alone by the fire. Sylvain was very occupied playing with the fire to look at Ingrid, which left her confused. She tried to call for him, but he didn’t seem to register it, so she settled to go to his side. They stood there enjoying each other's company, but Sylvain was still too focused on not looking at her. Annoyed by his behavior, she tried to ask him about it.
“Sylvain?” She approached him cautiously, not trying to bring himself to show his façade.
“Yeah, Ingrid?” He was still too focused on the embers left on the fire, poking them with a stick. “Is anything the matter?” He looked at her, and his face was completely red, but she didn’t know if it was the alcohol or something else.
“You’ve been awfully quiet this night, Sylvain. Are you okay? Is the alcohol finally making an effect on you?” She asked concerned, already a scold on the tip of her tongue. But his next words surprised her.
“Your hair looks nice.”
“What?” She was surprised by his words, mostly because she wasn’t expecting them from him. But it didn’t last long, as he quickly added something, excusing himself.
“Ah, sorry. You’re right, the alcohol is affecting me. I’m going to bed. Goodnight Ingrid!”
He quickly escaped and went to his tent, effectively leaving her alone, still bewildered by his behavior. She decided against giving it more thought if she could avoid it, and pass it as a thing of the alcohol. She stood by herself alone some time, enjoying the starry nights of the faerghan night sky. Just as she was going to go to bed, she noticed what seemed to be her hair, which Felix had tied and left abandoned on the dirt. She picked it up, and a thought crossed her mind. Before she could second guess herself, she approached the embers and threw her hair to them. She regretted it instantly as the awful smell flooded her senses, but she also felt something free inside herself. With what she deemed enough emotions for one day, she finished putting out the fire, and quickly went to bed.
Tomorrow was another day, there would still be war, there would still be death, but she felt more ready than ever for those.