Chương 116: Chapter 112 - Hair Braiding and Confessions

They teleported back to Valhalla. Chelsea took the card from Passion and walked it back to the card lady. The older woman looked up from behind the counter and straightened immediately when Chelsea approached.

"Miss, I was wondering, what exactly happens if you were holding like two or three cards when you step on the teleporter? Will parts of you end up in one place and others in the other places?"

"That is an excellent question. Nothing so morbid. Strangely enough, it will take you to one of the locations at random. It has even been known to dump people out at places that aren't connecting teleportation circles. Best not to try it. You may end up in the middle of the ocean."

"Oh, good call. That would not be a fun time," Chelsea replied.

"Thank you so much for letting us use the cards. Have a wonderful rest of your day."

"You too Miss Havoc," the woman replied, replacing the cards in their spot. Chelsea left the counter and walked over to the bar area. She ordered wine, mead for Passion, and a small ice block to keep everything chilled. She wished she could drink along with her friend, but that was not the point. She needed something soft after yesterday. They entered their room a few minutes later, and Chelsea pulled out the drinks so they could begin chilling.

"First things first. Let's hit the bath. If we're trying on new clothes and jewelry, we at least need to do it clean."

"I took a bath last night," Passion replied.

"We are having an us day. And we are going to do it right. Besides, you took a bath in water that both you and Virt… uh some unnamed other Valkyr peed in."

"Virtue was the other one!?" Passion exclaimed.

"I do like your hair soap, but I prefer my olive oil. I hope you don't take offense to that," Passion said.

"Oh no, not at all," Chelsea replied. A bath alone with Passion was more fun than Chelsea had expected. She had known Passion as a roommate, a sparring partner, and a pair bond she was still trying to understand. They shared space, talked when the day allowed it, and slept in the same room, but there was always something between them. Not distance exactly. Maybe distance? Chelsea couldn't put it into words. In the bath, with the door closed and the rest of Valhalla elsewhere, some of that fell away.

Chelsea liked touch. She always had. Hugs, leaning against people she trusted, fixing hair, holding hands for no real reason. Friendship had always made more sense to her when it could be shown. Passion seemed to be the same way. By the time they returned to the room, Chelsea felt lighter than she had since the battlefield. She sat Passion on the edge of the bed and took a brush to her long ashen hair. In all the months she had known her, Chelsea had only ever seen Passion with her warrior goddess hair.

It suited her. Of course it suited her. But with her hair loose, she looked different. Not less powerful. Just more herself.

"Your hair is so thick. I'm jealous," Chelsea said.

"You could do anything with it." Chelsea paused with the brush halfway through a section of hair as an idea struck her.

"You could do a full on Elsa braid!"

"Chelsea," Passion said, enjoying the brush running against her scalp.

"Your hair is perfect. Beyond perfect. You don't get to say you're jealous." She took a sip of the wine. Chelsea rolled her eyes but kept brushing. Passion's hair was heavier than hers and took more patience, but Chelsea liked the slow work of it. The brush moved through the strands with a soft pull, and each pass made the waves settle more naturally down Passion's back. When she finished, Chelsea stepped around to take a look. She scoffed.

"Passion, it's gross how beautiful you are. Like these natural waves." She tousled her hair with her fingers, giving it a little more depth and shape. Passion watched her with an expression Chelsea could not immediately read.

"Chelsea," Passion said slowly.

"I've been thinking about it for a long time and when its… just you and me, can you call me Delilah?" This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. Chelsea's hand stilled in Passion's hair.

"Delilah. I would be honored to," she replied with a smile. She stepped back again to see the finished result properly.

"Wow. You have this natural beauty that is just. Wow. Not to take away from how you usually wear your hair. It's perfect for training but this…" She trailed off.

"You're doing the thing Chelsea. I'm onto your demon tricks," Delilah said, holding up a finger.

"Now get your naked ass over here. I'm going to do your hair." Chelsea looked down and remembered that she was still only wearing a towel. Delilah wore one as well, though somehow the larger woman managed to make even that seem less awkward than Chelsea felt. Chelsea sat on the floor in front of Delilah while the larger woman poured herself another drink.

"Oh, I just noticed your servicers aren't here," Chelsea said.

"Yeah they were in Freya's room when I walked in."

"How did that go? How did you know to go in?" Chelsea asked. The brush touched her scalp, and Chelsea's eyes nearly closed on instinct. Delilah was careful at first, testing the pressure before committing to the first stroke through Chelsea's hair.

"Oh, so I tried to open our door but it wouldn't budge. I figured you had barricaded yourself in. I tried to force past whatever it was. But the door would not budge even a centimeter. Then the door at the end of the hall opened. I walked up to it and did a couple of test swipes with my hand. I could easily walk in so I did and found our room with my servicers and another 5 that were exact copies."

Chelsea imagined Passion standing in the hallway, testing Freya's mysterious forbidden doorway with her hand as though she expected it to bite her. The thought almost made her laugh.

"How was that? What would you even do with 10?" Delilah downed the rest of her cup of wine.

"Not a lot of sleep was happening for me last night. I was so amped up from everything yesterday I did break one. I'm hoping it was one of the copies. I don't know if I get to keep them or not. I still can't comprehend how you haven't used yours even once."

"I don't know. It's so lifeless. I wouldn't really know how and like I said, I get what I need."

"Chelsea." Delilah sighed and shook her head while the brush continued through Chelsea's hair.

"Not all of us are as open and free as you Delilah," Chelsea laughed. The brush stopped halfway down her hair. Only for a moment. Then it continued. Chelsea noticed, but she did not turn around. The pause felt too important to poke at. Delilah was already letting Chelsea use a name that had true meaning behind it. That was enough for now. Delilah adjusted her towel before moving around Chelsea. She took her time, brushing from several angles and using her fingers to arrange the hair where it wanted to fall.

When she finally stepped back, she looked at Chelsea with open appreciation. She sighed.

"Perfection. As always."

"Speak for yourself, lady," Chelsea replied. She held up a hand and adjusted titles while watching Delilah pour another cup.

"Celeste, is there anything we can drink that is like alcohol for humans?"

"Now we're talking," Celeste replied.

"It's called ambrosia. It's basilisk blood with some spices in it. Never asked what the spices were though."

"Regular alcohol is a no-go?" Chelsea asked.

"Oh eww no. Unless you want to instantly vomit." Celeste squinted in thought.

"You could use human blood and mix it with some ground up dragon thistle. I've been told it gives a similar effect but not quite as potent or delicious." Chelsea lowered her hand and looked toward the pouch where she kept the things normal people did not think of as food. A girls' afternoon with drinks had sounded simple when she planned it, but being a demon continued to make even simple things strange.

Delilah sat back with her wine, hair loose around her shoulders, looking nothing like the terrifying Valkyr everyone else knew. Chelsea decided the day was still working. It was not fixing yesterday. Nothing could fix yesterday. But for a little while, in a clean room with new dresses waiting nearby and Delilah sipping wine beside her, Chelsea could breathe without seeing the battlefield every time she closed her eyes.

"You haven't tried any?" Delilah asked. Chelsea still had her hand raised slightly from speaking with Celeste. The conversation had started as a practical question about what a demon could drink for fun, but the answer had turned into something much heavier than she expected.

"Terminal illness means nothing fun. I lived in my bed for the last ten years. Eating precut human organs that were fed to me. Towards the end my attendant had to move my jaw to chew for me." Delilah's hand paused around her wine cup. Celeste said awful things sometimes. She pushed and teased and shoved Chelsea toward discomfort with no shame at all, but every so often she revealed something that made Chelsea remember she had been a person before this body became Chelsea's.

"I didn't realize it was that bad," Chelsea said.

"I'm so sorry Celeste."

"Not looking for pity. Just telling you some history."

"Fair enough," Chelsea said. Delilah took a long drink from her wine. She set the cup aside and walked over to her dresser with more purpose. After opening one of the drawers, she reached inside and pulled out a length of cordage.

"Stay there. I want to give you a braid." Chelsea looked at her over one shoulder.

"We've finally reached the 'braiding each other's hair' part of the day?" Chelsea laughed. Delilah's face was red. Chelsea assumed the wine had finally started to catch up with her. The day had gone almost exactly as Chelsea had hoped so far. They had taken the bath, bought the dresses, bought the jewelry, and turned an errand day into something softer. After yesterday, Chelsea needed soft. Delilah did too, even if she was much less likely to admit it. Chelsea had tried to help the orphanages.

She had given the money, made the arrangements, and done everything she could think of that involved buildings, accounts, and practical care. It had not fixed anything. It had only moved gold from one place to another and called it atonement. Still, it was something. It was better than sitting in her room and hearing men scream every time she closed her eyes. Delilah crawled back onto the bed behind her. Chelsea sat still while Delilah gathered her hair.

The touch was careful at first, with Delilah's fingers combing through the length to separate the strands. It felt good. Chelsea let herself enjoy it because that had been the entire point of the day. Delilah began forming a single thick braid. She was about a quarter of the way through when she spoke again.

"Chelsea. Shut up. Don't talk. Just listen." Chelsea furrowed her brows. She wondered, for one brief and hopeful second, if she was about to hear some incredible piece of Valkyr gossip. Delilah's hands tightened slightly around the braid.

"For months, Chelsea, I have been in love with you." Chelsea wanted to turn around immediately, but Delilah held her braid firm enough to keep her facing forward. Delilah continued, "I know it's all of the alcohol but I just wanted uh… well more like needed to confess it."