Author's Note
This chapter is brought to you by my hair, and my strong feelings about needing a haircut.
Go onward and enjoy!
Keep It Long
Mahin scowls at her reflection in the refresher mirror. The bangs of her hair drift in front of her face to stab at her eyes. She runs her fingers through them, trying to brush them back, but they just end up falling again. It's been months since her last haircut, a month since she first boarded the Razor Crest, and her hair is slowly starting to drive her insane.
Maybe Mando has some scissors she can borrow. He has med kits. Med kits usually have scissors, the kind with the funky curve at the end, but they should do for a little bang trimming. Cutting her own hair can't be too difficult, right?
She freezes as something occurs to her. She slides the refresher door open and hangs her head out with a shout, "Hey, Mando?"
She hears a grunt from upstairs in the cockpit, letting her know he's listening. He does that a lot. Out of the three of them, Mahin talks the most, usually only pulling a couple words out of Mando at a time. Sometimes a paragraph. She worried at first that she talks too much. That she annoys him, or that he simply ignores her entirely, but he always gives some kind of response. Something that lets her know to continue. She's learned by now just to keep going and that if he really wants her to shut up, he won't be shy about letting her know.
"I have a question." She leans against the doorway, playing with the cuffs of her coveralls where she tied the sleeves around her waist. "Obviously, you don't take the helmet off in front of anyone, so no one can see your face. So I was curious. Do you cut your own hair? Or do you, like, have someone put on a blindfold and cut your hair without looking?"
Something bangs upstairs followed by clomping footsteps as he moves to the hatch at the top of the ladder. "I'm not about to let someone who can't see wield a sharp object near my face," he says bluntly.
Mahin hums thoughtfully, tipping her head back against the doorjamb to stare up at the ceiling. She can't see him through the hatch at this angle, but it makes her feel better somehow to at least look in his direction. "Okay, yeah, you've got a point. That means you cut your own hair, then, right? Is it hard? Because I really need these bangs of mine out of my eyes. Wait," she suddenly straightens with a gasp, "are you bald?"
More banging followed by muffled curses before Mando completely bypasses the ladder by just jumping down the hatch. His legs bend at the knee slightly to absorb the impact of the fall. She shakes her head at him with an eyeroll, but by the way he tilts his head at her, he thinks she's the crazy person.
"Bald?" he asks bluntly, completely unamused. "Really?"
"What?" she says with an innocent shrug. "It's a valid question. Honestly, if I had to constantly wear a helmet, I'd probably just shave my head."
"From what I hear, female Mandalorians tend to use braids."
"Nah, too much effort. I'd chop it all off." She picks up her hairbrush from where she left it on the sink, returning to brushing her bedhead out before she got distracted. She winces slightly as the brush snags on a tangle. Sometimes, having long hair is too much effort, too. Maybe she should cut more than just her bangs.
She runs her fingers through her hair, thinking of the last time she cut it really short.
"I've done it before, you know," she says softly, keeping her eyes on the mirror. Her fingers run through the strands of her hair again, remembering the feeling of locks only an inch or two long, how her neck felt so exposed, ears appearing larger than usual without hair covering them. And her head—Maker, her head felt so much lighter without the familiar weight cascading down her back.
She missed that weight when it was gone.
"Done what?" he asks distractedly, head turning as babbling filters out from Mando's sleeping compartment. Looks like the child finally decided to wake up this morning. Or whatever passes as morning in space. She's pretty sure Mando has been up for hours. She hasn't figured out when he actually sleeps yet. Mahin's tried to keep her and the child on a pretty regular schedule though. Mando passes her to open the compartment, the child letting out a happy coo in greeting as Mando lifts him out of the hammock.
"I've chopped all my hair off before," Mahin clarifies. She runs the brush slowly through her hair one last time and then exits the refresher to cross the few steps to her room. She puts the brush away in one of the drawers under her bed, feeling Mando watching her from behind. "It was about ten years ago. Before I made it to Ulta-7." She turns to sit on the edge of her bed, fingers ghosting along the soft blanket beneath her. Mando hovers in her doorway, child perched in his arms and both of them looking at her curiously. Waiting. Not insisting—Mando said she only has to share what she wants and he's stuck to it—but showing a willingness to listen.
Well, Mando's willing to listen. The child's got the ear of the dog plushie in his mouth looking more concerned about breakfast.
"An Imperial officer I passed on the street recognized me. Well," she twists a strand of her wavy, bright red hair around her fingers sheepishly, "he recognized my hair. It is rather distinctive. In a heartbeat, I had dozens of Stormtroopers on my tail. Don't know how I got away, but I did. And I realized that my hair is a beacon. A beacon I had to get rid of."
"So you cut it all off?" It almost sounds like sadness tinges his voice, like someone took his favorite blaster away. His feet shuffle slightly as he hesitates in the doorway. When she nods in permission, he moves to sit on the crate across from her, child perched on his lap. He's been very respectful about her space, never entering unless she gives him the okay.
"I cut it short." Her nose wrinkles at the memory of hair falling away between her fingertips in jagged clumps. "So short. Short enough I could barely grab it between my fingers in the end. Then I covered my head in a cap and disguised myself as a boy for good measure. And I ran. I ran constantly, more than ever before, never staying anywhere for longer than a week for over two years. Until I made it to Ulta-7. A place with so many mismatched species and faces and just so, so many people. Enough for anyone to get lost in. I still kept my hair short and hidden beneath a hat for a while, until we got word that the Empire fell and the New Republic was taking over. Only then did I feel safe enough to grow my hair out again."
"How long did it take?" he asks curiously. "For it to get to this length again?"
"About three years, once I made the decision not to keep it short anymore." She pulls at the lock of hair in her hand again before letting it go with a timid smile. "Though I guess things aren't as safe as I thought. That Stormtrooper who saw me on Ulta-7, I'm pretty sure he recognized me by my hair. Again. Maybe it would be better to chop it all off again."
"No," Mando bursts out louder than necessary, almost too loud for the small space of her room. She leans back a little, surprised by his instant insistence. She didn't expect him to have such strong feelings about her hair. His shoulders stiffen in trepidation as he clears his throat awkwardly. "Don't…don't cut it. I, uh…." He leans forward, hand reaching out hesitantly. It stops to hover in the air between them. Mahin stills like prey caught in the sights of the hunter, waiting as her breaths turn shallow. Waiting for him to do something.
When she shows no sign of rejection, his hand moves again—closer, closer—until gentle fingers tuck the strand of hair behind her ear. Her lips part on a puff of air, eyes never leaving his visor. His fingers linger like pinpoints of fire, trailing down the side of her face from ear to chin before he leans back again. But she can still feel his fingers like they branded her. "I can help you cut your bangs," he offers softly. "But leave the rest long. It looks…nice. I like it like this."
Heat prickles over her skin, sweeping down her neck. "Thank you," she murmurs, eyes darting down to her lap. She wipes suddenly sweaty palms on her pants and then stands, carefully taking the child from his lap to prop on her hip. She looks at his helmet and then shifts away again. "I'll, uh, get this little one some breakfast and then we can do that haircut."
She pauses in the doorway before turning back, unable to keep herself from asking, "Do you think it'll be okay, though? For me to keep my hair long? I mean, what about the danger?"
Mando rises to his feet, almost in her personal space but not quite. Always so careful not to cross any boundaries without permission. "Stormtroopers get that close, it'll be because they're after me and the kid. By then, your hair won't matter."
"That's a cheery thought," she mutters, heading to the back of the cargo hold to sift through the food crate for breakfast. The entire time, she still feels his hand against her face. She bends over the crate, allowing her hair to curtain around her and hide her smile.
He likes her hair.
Yeah, she'll definitely have to keep it long.
Author's Note
My hair used to be that short and, seriously, it's such a difference. Then covid happened, the hair salons shut down, and I decided to take the opportunity to grow my hair out. But my bangs are seriously driving me insane. This chapter was me venting a little and then the conversation just kind of ran from there.
I'm flopping between two different chapters to post next, but they both have a little excitement in them so we'll definitely be getting some action next.
Hope you enjoyed, PLEASE REVIEW, and see you all next time!
