Strange Magics 1.5: When the Stars Align- a M/F Demisexual/ Transgender romance

1- The Funeral

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Alexandra stood, watching in awe as the little girl across the room stood stoically, one arm wrapped around a bundle of blankets that squirmed just a little bit, enough for her to see that it was a babe. Only a few days old, at most, red faced and squishy-looking. The other arm slanted down to hold the hand of a little boy, only a few years younger than her, but much smaller.

The girl, Princess Hestiel, Alexandra had been told her name was, was Alexandra's age— eight-and-a-half— and her little brother, clinging to her as he cried big, wet tears of sorrow, was two years her junior. But the years showed in the way Princess Hestiel held her shoulders stiff, her back straight, her blue eyes as dry as the skin on her face, and the way she watched the funeral attendees around her with an air of quiet solemnity, almost distaste.

The girl was pretty, Alexandra noted with a little smile. She had long, dark black hair that would look more at home in Alexandra's home village, but in this mess of blonde, red, and light brown she stood out like a little black pearl in a sea of rusty diamonds. Her skin was golden, the color of parchment darkened in the sun, and her eyes were so blue they almost seemed to glow from within. She wore a court dress, black with a sash of purest mourning white, and Alexandra could see it fit her little body perfectly, fitted to her like a second skin. She looked comfortable in it, at peace, unlike Alexandra when she was forced to wear women's finery. Dresses were itchy, and hung heavy on her shoulders, as if they were made of stones. The skirts tangled around her feet, making her feel clumsy and dull. 

But when she stole her cousin Adair's trousers and shirts, gods, she could fly. She could run through the fields outside the palace and just let her heart sing and her hair whip out behind her.

Only then was she free. Only then could she be herself, as much as she was able in her ill-fitting body.

"What the hell are you wearing, Alexandra?" Alexandra's mama hissed down at her in Qunit, their native language. Both Alexandra and her mama spoke El'kahrian, which was why they had been sent to El'kahr as representatives for Redeb'ir for the queen's funeral, but Alexandra's mama didn't like the language. She preferred her own, whenever she could get away with it.

"Don't be angry, Mama," Alexandra tried to soothe with a smile, but her mama's mouth was frozen in a thin line of frustration.

"The El'kahrians already see us as lesser, Alexi," she chastised, using Alexandra's childhood nickname that was only used now when she was caught doing something naughty. "Now what will they think, you wearing pants under your skirts? You look like a boy in a dress."

Alexandra's heart twisted a little in happiness at her mama's choice of words, but she forced her face to remain placid.

"I'm sorry, Mama," she replied, trying for contrite but knowing she failed when her mama rolled her eyes. "The skirts tickle my legs."

"Goddess Vunei save me from spoiled little girls."

Alexandra followed her mama as she led her to the El'kahrian king, who stood off a ways from his children, his face stoic and nearly angry. He kept glaring over at the little pile of children, but the princess never flinched, though her father's glare was heavy on her head. Then, just as Alexandra and her mama reached the king, he ignored them, seeming to not even notice they were there, huffing loudly and stomping over to his children.

In a voice under a breath, so quiet Alexandra could barely hear it, but fierce in its rage and hatred, the king growled down at his eldest daughter. "You're coddling him, girl. He's already enough of a fairy as it is, he doesn't need more weakness."

"He's my brother and the heir to the throne that you sit upon, Father. You will speak to him, and about him, with respect, or we will leave and you'll be left to explain our absence to our own mother's funeral to any who ask. Think on that as you choose your next words carefully."

Hestiel's eyes never wavered from the scenery around her, and though the little boy at her waist was now clinging fully to her skirts, whimpering a little, the thumb of the hand not holding hers in a death grip stuck in his mouth, she didn't even glance down at him. Though Alexandra could see the way Hestiel's fingers tightened in her brother's, sending him silent reassurance.

The king took a step back, as if shocked by the girl's words. Alexandra's mama's attention had been taken up by one of the El'kahrian king's councilors, who greeted her and spoke to her about their travel and how long they were staying, but Alexandra couldn't take her eyes off of the stunning sight before her. This girl, barely reaching her father's belly in height, stood strong though he was glaring down at her with such a fierce hatred on his face Alexandra would have been terrified in her shoes. But she never even flinched, only glanced up at him and held her head high.

"He's a child who just lost his maman, your majesty," she said, just a little quieter, the tiniest bit softer, when the king continued in his silence. "Let him grieve. You'll have your heir back when the little boy is done grieving."

"I should have given you to Butcger when I had the chance, before you were too old for him, you damn bitch," the king spat, then turned on his heel and stomped away from his daughter.

Alexandra's eyes were wide and she couldn't look away, even when the girl's eyes met hers and she stared her down. She looked Alexandra up and down, pausing just a little when she reached the trousers under her skirts, then her eyes were back on Alexandra's and something passed between them. Something like understanding. Something like strength and peace and knowing.

Alexandra's chest tightened and she nodded in greeting, in acknowledgement, in acceptance of that thing between them, the princess returned the gesture, and then she was glancing down at the little bundle in her arms that had just begun to squirm and fuss, a tiny hand coming out to wave around in the air.

That, Alexandra thought with awe. That is strength. That is the strength I'm missing, to tell the world who I am. Who I was born to be.

Who I was born to be, she repeated firmly in her mind before turning away, back to her mama, her mind awash with the power to change her life and her future. Given to her in a moment of terrible strength in the face of horrible darkness by a little girl she knew she had to see again.