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A feast spanning multiple days was an impressive but demanding event. Preparing the food had obviously been the main challenge but not the only one. Setting tables and other accommodations for everyone with what materials they could get had to be taken care of too.
They weren't that far off from Melini so when it came to bedding, a lot of the guests simply went back there in groups after finishing their dinner while others, like the orcs, set little encampments or slept under the stars.
However, the town wasn't close enough to walk to for a simple bathroom break and although most adventurers might have been fine with the rustic and trusted method of going into the forest to relieve themselves, the sheer number of people there made it quite awkward to slip out and not fall on another person who had felt the same need or was taking a walk to digest and enjoy a bit of calm away from the party.
For that reason, a few toilets stalls were built-up with remaining planks and other bits of leftover wood, together with showers for the people staying at camp everyday. Magic users set a water system for people to clean themselves and their hands easily, someone brought some lavender to decorate the place and a decently-sized mirror had even been found and hung above the washbasin, so it was nice enough for something quickly made.
Namari was currently looking at herself in said mirror, grumbling while scratching her chin. They were on day three of the feast and her facial hair was starting to show.
Most of it was of a light enough red that they weren't too noticeable on her skin but the thickness of some of the hairs was already starting to bother her, prickly under her fingers, meaning it was high time for a shave, before it got more annoying. Sighing, Namari pulled out her razor from the pouch where she kept her grooming tools and gave it a good look to check the state of the blade.
Of course, someone had to choose that moment to leave one of the stalls, making her jump at the sound of the opening door. Thankfully, she had a good grip on her razor but her heart took the surprise quite hard.
Though Namari mostly enjoyed the cultural melting-pots cities she had mostly been raised in, she'd always been a bit uneasy about the ways others could react to the facial hair of female dwarves. What grew on other parts of her body wasn't as much of a bother, since most races—not elves of course, but who cared about them, they didn't count—also often had a decent amount of body hair, from armpits to their legs. Whether they shaved or not would change depending on the culture or even from person to person and Namari herself didn't bother with it aside from an occasional trim when she felt like it but facial hair was a different story. It was much rarer for women from other races to get as much of it and this difference made for uncomfortable looks and conversations.
Being seen in the middle of shaving, then, wasn't a pleasant idea for her. Even in the dungeon, she had avoided that best as she could, doing her business away from the rest of the group. It seemed awkward to share the spot with Laios or Shuro when they took care of their own shaving and she didn't want to have to see any looks of pity or disgust from prissy mages either, like her personal grooming was a terrible fate or something.
Her bad luck at the moment could have been worse though, because the person coming out of the toilet turned out to be another female dwarf, the one from Kabru's adventuring party.
Daya, if Namari remembered her name right, nodded at her and started washing her hands.
"Were you about to shave? Sorry to disturb you."
Namari had stepped sideways to let her clean herself up and she shrugged amiably at the words. Her hands played with the razor, swiping the blade back in and out of the handle.
"Nah, it's fine. I wasn't exactly looking forward to get to it."
"Why?"
"It's just a bit of a chore? Grows back too fast, too."
"I see. I don't mind it too much myself, in fact I used to do it for a few female cousins back in the day."
Daya looked at herself in the mirror, pushing her chin forwards. Perhaps she was checking the state of her own beard. Given her light blond color, Namari supposed it would take longer to show and the lucky gal could afford to shave less often. Somehow, she imagined the feel of it to be pretty soft under one's palm, unlike her own hair annoyingly rough to the touch.
That was an embarrassing thought and she tried to keep the conversation going to leave that behind her.
"Oh, they liked it better when you did it for them?"
"Usually, yeah. Or they just enjoyed that they didn't have to bother shaving it themselves perhaps. Does it feel differently when you go to the barber instead?"
"Well, uh, I never went to the barber."
"Really? I'd say it's worth a try. Though if it's not something you'd like, I get it. Some people prefer to do things themselves, even when those are troublesome and I respect that."
"I don't have anything against it! It's just, you know... Kinda awkward to get shaved in public I guess."
Namari scratched the back of her head. She could feel her heartbeat quicken and her face start to warm. This really was an embarrassing conversation and yet, she felt almost giddy at the same time to be able to discuss this subject which she could usually never talk about, waiting anxiously or perhaps eagerly for each of Daya's answers.
She barely ever had any exchanges like that in the past, even before the issue with her dad. Bringing it up with male dwarves was almost as bad at with people from other races and she never got to know that many female ones well enough to feel comfortable to talk about it either, back when she was younger and even more insecure about it.
Her mother had been gone for most of her life and her father had already been staying a bit apart from his peers, prefering the company of tallmen even long before corruption caught up to him. So she had to learn to do things on her own.
Daya was looking at her intently, or so Namari felt like, but it was hard to be sure with her fringe mostly hiding her gaze.
"If you want to try it out in private, I could do it."
Despite their discussion, the offer still was unexpected for Namari, what with other dwarves strongly avoiding any chance of being associated with her. But perhaps the festive mood and the fact they'd be alone helped.
She was tempted to accept, though she wasn't entirely sure why.
"Like, right now?"
"Sure, I'd just need to go pick up my things if you want."
It was silly to get excited over something like this and yet, she couldn't restrain herself from taking this opportunity.
"Alright, why not!"
Namari waited behind the stalls, where nobody went and the noises from the feast didn't reach, fidgeting after the fact over accepting without really thinking about it. She had felt compelled to try out what she never had a chance to experience but one of the main reasons she usually preferred to do things on her own was that she didn't feel too good being scrutinized, a thing which the last few years hadn't helped with, given her social disgrace. And now she was about to let someone get a good, close look at her.
One or two minutes later, Daya came back with a little bag in one hand and a chair she must have picked on the way there in the other. She put the furniture down, presenting it for Namari to sit down. The chair had a decently inclined back and Daya made her lay her nape against it by gently pulling her chin up.
After picking up water in a bowl, she mixed it with soap and used a soft brush to lay it over Namari's cheeks. Her gestures were quick and sure, spreading the foam with care on the skin. The sensation of the brush sweeping along felt good, making Namari almost pleasantly ticklish.
Watching Daya moving over her while she sat on her hands felt a bit awkward so she closed her eyes and let her other senses take center focus. The sweet smell of soap, the gentle touch on her face and the low humming of some old dwarven song she couldn't quite remember all helped her body relax into the seat and Daya's firm hands.
If she let her thoughts wander, her mind went to the blade that would come to brush against her chin next and she got a bit antsy at that, so she tried to keep her head clear. As a fighter, getting herself in such a vulnerable position was also an uncomfortable predicament, even if she knew there were no chances of this being some kind of trap. Maybe this had also been part of what made her reluctant to go to a barber, though she hadn't really considered it before.
"Everything good?" asked Daya next to her, and Namari could hear the razor sliding against leather.
"Hm, hm," was all she felt able to answer.
Daya put a hand at her neck, right under her chin again, to help her raise it some more. Namari could feel the rough skin of her dwarven fingers but the gesture itself was soft and the thumb slowly drew gentle circles against her flesh, perhaps because Daya had noticed her tensing up and wanted to help her further relax.
The first swipe of the razor against her skin went so smoothly her brain seemed to have trouble registering it. The pressure and coldness of the blade had been almost delicate, though definitely not lacking in strength; it had moved in a swift, firm gesture, with a competence that left no place for the doubt that her blood might flow.
Within the next few strokes, her cheek was exposed to the air again and left tickling pleasantly from this contact and that of Daya's dextrous moves.
The gentle brush of metal and the thick fingers peacefully holding her in place or slightly shifting the position of her face had nothing in common with the tired routine of her usual shaving. It felt good, perhaps even too much, to the point shivers trickled along her flesh. The kiss of the blade had something electrifying to it, which didn't seem like something that should have normally happened with a simple shave and Namari hoped Daya wouldn't notice her reactions.
Before she could fully put a name on the sensations going through her body though, half of her face was already clean and Namari now felt the razor caressing her other cheek. It glid nicely along the strong curve of her chin and she heard a soft sigh coming from above her.
Since the moment she had started shaving, Daya had been very quiet and Namari had to prick up her ears to listen to her breathing or the soft sound of her footsteps on grass, in between splashes of water and rustling of fabric when she would clean the soap off her tool. A few times, she had been close enough that Namari thought she could feel the warmth of her breath brushing sweetly against her skin and she waited with great anticipation, wondering whenever another occurrence might happen.
How ridiculous it was, that she got herself even more bothered by that than by the first instance of waiting for the blade of the razor to touch the skin, afraid it might accidentally cut her. Then again, Daya had quickly proven with her skill that this wouldn't be an issue, dissipating her fears and letting the pleasant numbness of staying idle envelop her. On the other hand, the breath which tickled her flesh was unexpected, a sign of intimacy showing how close she stood, other than the necessary and professional touch to do the work.
At last, the other side of Namari's face was done too and Daya held her chin in both her hands, checking her work, before releasing her and handing her a small towel.
Opening her eyes at last, she let out a small, contented sigh. Rubbing the fluffy towel against her smooth chin felt much better than she was used to and her whole body was so relaxed it seemed engulfed in cotton, as if she had just taken a good nap.
"Was it nice?" Daya asked while looking in her bag for something.
"Y-yeah, yeah," Namari answered shakily, still a bit out there.
Daya pulled out a little flask and put some oil over her fingers, then she went back to Namari and started spreading it over her cheeks. The warmth of her palms and the strength of her hands were incredible.
She stood closer than ever before but this time Namari couldn't even entertain closing her eyes and she watched with fascination the focused expression on the face in front of her. Serious blue eyes were peeking through the thick mop of blond hair and she felt tempted to swipe the fringe to the side to better see underneath and perhaps to touch her forehead underneath too. Even leaning in to kiss her would have been easy and she couldn't believe she was entertaining such thoughts over a simple friendly shave.
"It's a good oil to avoid dry skin," Daya explained while she finished the job.
Namari didn't know where to look anymore; she had trouble sustaining her gaze but averting her eyes was difficult too with how close they were. Despite the awkwardness, she still managed to enjoy the care Daya was putting in her work, though probably not for the right reasons.
She was left with a bit of a tingling emptiness when the warmth from those talented hands left her chin and cheeks. A nice, faint smell from the oil hung up in the air.
"Thanks," Namari managed to say, "that was really good. You're great at this."
"You're welcome. Feel free to try out an actual barber eventually, I'm sure it'll be even better."
Daya was cleaning up her belongings and putting them back in her bag. Namari laughed a bit weakly.
"I don't know about that; I doubt you'd pale in comparison. And honestly, I'm not sure I'd be able to relax as much with someone who's not a female dwarf, if that makes sense."
Embarrassed by her silly insecurities and how they could be perceived, she kept babbling in an attempt to better put down her feelings.
"Not a big deal, really. Just, I'd prefer for it to be taken care of by a person who understand and experience the same things I do. The weird looks and questions are annoying."
"I see what you mean, that can be a bit troublesome when people try to pry on that kind of private hygiene subject."
"Exactly! They get so nosy with what they think they know about our facial hair! Like come on, it's not the fourth century anymore, get with the times. Most of us girls are shaving by now, thank you very much! Ah... Not that there's anything wrong with the old-fashioned folks who keep a beard either... It's just frustrating when they make assumptions."
Namari caught herself in her rant just in time before she risked saying something inappropriate, like making comparisons between modern cities and backwards towns in the country, when she had no idea where Daya was born.
"Yes, every place is different. Recently, I've even seen a few male dwarfs shaving completely too."
"True, I think I've seen one around Melini too. Was it the same for you or did that date back to before you came to the Island?"
"No, it was here. It's... pretty traditional where I'm from. Although things are changing there, too."
This caught Namari's curiosity and she tried to gather whether Daya looked cross or alright with the subject before asking for more details.
"How so?"
"Well, we used to have our women start letting their beard grow and braid it only once they were married, as a sign of adulthood and social rank, or something of the sort. But in between my grandmother and mother's time, it started becoming less of a thing. The young girls didn't like the look anymore or what it meant regarding their status within the community. Some were influenced by fashions from the outside too, which wasn't to all of their elders' taste."
Daya chuckled at that and Namari laughed too, picturing easily those young dwarven women rebuking energetically the complaints they were surely faced with, for their audacity.
"Actually, there was one around my mom's age who went at it the other way too; refusing to marry but deciding to grow a beard anyway. This caused some waves."
She was still smiling at the funny story but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Did it go alright for her?"
"Nothing too bad happened but... she left after a while. You know how it goes. I wonder about where she might be, sometimes. I hope she's fine, wherever she is."
"Right," Namari agreed faintly, her throat suddendly dry.
In her mind, bearded female dwarves had been things of the past; found in old portraits of noble ladies, in fairytales where strands of the heroine's beard would be woven as protection against evil magic or in villages forgotten by time where grannies spent their last days reminiscing on lost history. But perhaps it was something closer to the present and more complicated than what she had let herself believe.
Having nothing more to say, they moved away from the stalls and back towards the feast. As they were about to separate to rejoin with their separate groups, Daya stopped and turned one last time towards Namari.
"That was fun. It's been a while since I shaved someone else so getting some practice was nice. If you're in the mood for another go and I happen to be around, don't hesitate to come ask for one. We can settle on some price or an exchange of service, if you're alright with that. Unless it's too much trouble of course, you can ignore and forget the offer in case it's a bother."
"Wow, no, I'd totally be up for it," Namari exclaimed, nearly biting her tongue in her enthusiasm and mentally chastising herself for coming up too strong.
She didn't doubt that the memory of Daya's hands would linger long enough for her to crave more, if she let herself dream about it. And in her fantasies they'd probably touch much more than her face but she pinched herself hard for that thought.
For now, she was content with a clean shave. Her beard grew itchy and she didn't see the point of putting up with that currently, though who knew what the future would be made of. Until today, she couldn't have expected to have a long talk with another dwarf like Daya, yet it had just happened. Times might have been changing and perhaps one day she wouldn't feel like shaving anymore and would become one of those grannies with whiskers that the young'uns thought deeply backwards.
Or perhaps she'd keep to it, while younger dwarven women would come back to growing and braiding their beards, putting ribbons or beads in them. It was a mysterious idea to think about, one she might enjoy talking about with Daya in some time, perhaps after another shave.