It was the longest Lucanis' hair had been since he was a youth. It was already overdue for a cut when he took the Minrathos job that had been the trap, then a year imprisoned... and it just hadn't been a priority to do anything with since getting out. He thought he should ask Neve about how to tie it back in a way that wouldn't make it worse when he was out and about. Sure she was a mage, but who else would he ask, Harding? Even a disaster like Lucanis could recognize 'Ferelden farm girl braids' were unlikely to be flattering.

But he had managed to get out anything that was trapped in the hair or the beard, and had a moment to relax himself before Davrin decided to be a nanny about it again.

"Mierda, again with the mother henning," said the man who was constantly complaining about everyone's diet. "The potion took care of it, I'm fine."

But he still stood and moved closer so Davrin could check as much as he wished. The skin was still terribly bruised and tender, the stage of healing where it would take little to break it back open again, with other smaller hurts scattered around.