Chapter 5

Tazok banged his forehead so that it hurt. Furious with himself, he grabbed the water pitcher and hurled it onto the ground, shattering it.
- "Mrekkek! Me stupid, clumsy ogre! Me never be any good in this!"
Emilia's expression was very calm and friendly, only slightly worried and puzzled.
- "Now, now, Tazok. I didn't expect you to learn to do plaits with just a few tries, what with the moonshine and ale still making our hands shaky. It was very sweet of you to offer to do them for me. Don't be so hard on yourself. Doing plaits hardly is something a bandit living prepares you too well for. Say, what if Sarevok does them as he usually does, and you observe? Then you can help me the next morning."
The next morning! So she was going to spend another night at the camp! Tazok's heart seemed to beat faster.

- "And you can tie my bows, if you like. I also need help in choosing the color," Emilia went on. "What do you think is best? I had the baby blue ones yesterday... the pink ones, or canary yellow maybe? I also like the ones with polka dots, put perhaps they are a bit perky for the occasion?"
Tazok took a look at her collection of ribbons, pleased to be included. The ribbons looked very... colorful to him. Colors he usually saw only in the clothes of people he robbed.
- "They all very pretty," he mumbled. "On you... everything pretty," he whispered, not daring to look Emilia in the eye.
- "Awwww... how sweet of you to say so," Emilia said. "It is so great that someone appreciates my penchant for aestethics and pretty things. Sarevok always grumbles..."
- "Carrying completely unnecessary items with you is one thing, but do they have to be of such nauseating colours?"
Sarevok had appeared into the room, looking irritable and tired.

- "And what do you know?" Emilia retorted. "Mr. Spiky Armor... everything has to be big, clumsy, ugly, black and bloody red like a demon's ass. And it is not like you have to carry my clothes and ribbons."
- "No... but I swear I don't know any other warrior woman who has a Bag of Holding full of dresses, capes and ribbons with them. There is such a thing as a practical approach, you know."
- "Hmph. Just because I am a warrior and a half-orc doesn't mean that I don't like to look pretty! Tazok understands women much better than you do!"
Tazok felt really uncomfortable to be in between of the irritated exchange, as he admired tremendously both of these people.
- "However you will have it, Emilia. I apologize. I am merely in impatient mood... alcohol really doesn't suit me. The plaits?"
Sarevok skillfully brushed Emilia's hair, and the woman patted his hand as a sign of no hard feelings.
- "Yes, Sar. I think we are both a bit edgy what with having to talk to an audience. Sometimes I think you'd rather face Demogorgon alone without armor or weapons. And it's not like we haven't bickered before. We are sister and brother."
They smiled at each other. Now Sarevok was doing the plaits, skillfully, his fingers working without effort.

- "Wait! Let Tazzy choose the ribbons and tie the bows!"
Sighing, Sarevok held the plait pointedly in place. Tazok, in his part, was really hard pressed to make a decision.
- "They all so pretty..." he muttered, almost desperate, so much wanting to make right choice. "If you put pink to another one, and dis yellow into other? Then two pretty colors!"
- "It is a very... nice idea," Emilia said. "A bit unconventional, maybe, but... nice."
And so Tazok, concentrating hard, his tongue between his lips, his nostrils tense, managed to tie a bow to hold the plait in place. The another one was already a bit easier to tie. It wasn't that hard, was it. With some practice he could become very skilled in doing Emilia's hair... unless she was gone, adventuring again far away from him. The very idea caused an unpleasant feeling in Tazok's chest.

Tazok also went through Emilia's collection of dresses. He finally suggested a pink one with lacy collar and frills. A huge red bow sat on the top of Emilia's muscular behind. Tazok fastened the buttons for Emilia.
- "Do I look all right?" the half-orc asked. Her nostrils so shapely. Her tusks gleaming, deep yellow. Her skin such a marvelous shade of green.
- "Taz? Is there something wrong with my looks?" She sounded a bit uncertain now.
- "NO! Mrekkek, no!" Tazok gasped. "You... me... I never seen such a... pretty lady..."
Tazok was horrified and yet pleased to see a single tear rolling down Emilia's moss green cheek.
- "Tazok... I can't tell how much this means... would you like to carry my handcherchief around your arm like human warriors do? No-one... sniff... no-one has ever appreciated my pretty things as you."
- "Would be an honor." Tazok tried to hide the magnitude of his feelings.
- "I will give you the one I like best," Emilia cooed. "It is baby blue, and there are golden and pink butterflies... it is a bit snotty, but it is dried already..."

She handed the hancherchief to the ogre.
- "Oh, that. It is just a bit of blood... cut my finger when I cleaned my axe after gutting some mindflayers. I hope you don't mind."
Tazok furiously shook his head and pinned the handcherchief to his arm. He felt vulnerable and like crying, also somehow drunk. What was really puzzling that it was pleasant at the same time.
- "Let us go to meet your troops."
- "Um. Emilia. I don't think that the greataxe and the iron-laced boots go that well with that... dress," Sarevok said.
The others turned to face him in total incomprehension.
- "What EVER do you mean?" Emilia asked, completely confused.
- "Never mind," Sarevok sighed.