Chapter Text
The bell rang throughout Garreg Mach and the Black Eagles began filing out of the classroom for lunch. Ferdinand stayed in his seat, fidgeting as he waited for the others to leave. Last out was Hubert, who glanced over at Ferdinand suspiciously before shutting the doors behind him.
Ferdinand stood and approached the Professor’s desk. “I have a request!”
Professor Byleth, erasing the board of the morning’s battle formations, said, “What is it?”
“As you know, I strive to prove to you and others my superiority to Edelgard. These past few weeks have only shown—”
“Look, Ferdinand, I’m really hungry and they’re serving fish for lunch so can you please skip to the actual request?”
Ferdinand winced. “Um, yes. Simply put, Professor, I wish to have the female outfit for the brigand class uniform.”
The Professor paused, eraser frozen on the board. His arm slowly dropped and he turned to Ferdinand with his brows furrowed. “The female uniform.”
“Correct.”
“Okay…” The Professor looked longingly over Ferdinand’s shoulder at the door, then sighed and sat at his desk. “I apologize for being short with you. Start from the beginning.”
“As you know, I strive to prove to you and others my superiority to Edelgard,” Ferdinand repeated, brightening. “These past few weeks have only shown how close we are in skill. Yet still she performs better in battle than I do. Through observation, I have determined one key difference!”
“The outfit.”
“Exactly! The female style of the brigand uniform lacks the shoulder coverings of the male uniform, allowing for a wider range of motion. There is also less fabric overall, particularly over the legs, which makes the wearer faster comparatively.”
The Professor put up a hand. Ferdinand could have gone on— he had been mentally preparing his speech all morning— but he shut his mouth to let the Professor speak. “You believe Edelgard out performs you because of her clothes?” He stated.
When put like that, Ferdinand felt himself heat under his collar. “Y-Yes?”
The Professor stared, hands folded under his chin, eyes narrowed. Fidgeting again, Ferdinand clasped his hands behind his back. The logic was sound, in his opinion, and if the Professor couldn’t see the wisdom in his request then Ferdinand would find another way to obtain the outfit. Perhaps Manuela could be convinced. Or Hilda may be willing to lend hers— Ferdinand often heard her complain about fighting anyway.
“Yes.”
“Professor, if you would permit me to make my case further—” This time Ferdinand stopped himself. “Excuse me?”
“Yes,” the Professor repeated with an amused smile. “I’ll get you the female-style brigand uniform. I can have it to you by tomorrow, before the day is out.”
Stunned, Ferdinand could only think to give a steep bow. “T-Thank you, Professor! I will not let you down!”
“I’m sure you won’t.” The Professor stood. “Now, ready to eat?”
Ferdinand beamed. “Of course! Lead the way!”
The next day, Ferdinand ate a quick dinner before all but racing back to his room. Professor Byleth had given him a brown paper-wrapped package after classes, and the thought of it had been itching under Ferdinand’s skin all evening. Now he was free to rip it open with gusto and lay out the pieces of his new uniform on the bed.
As Ferdinand and Edelgard favored similar color palettes, the outfit was nearly identical to Edelgard’s brigand uniform. Ferdinand ran a hand over the furs that would cover the majority of his breast plate. It suddenly occurred to him how different he would look. He had known, academically, that the female outfit left one’s chest more exposed— but it was another thing altogether to be faced with the reality.
For the first time, Ferdinand wondered if he would look... silly.
But he shook his head. As long as his performance improved, it wouldn’t matter how he looked. He could appear noble in anything. With that resolve, Ferdinand undressed and began pulling on the new clothes.
It took a bit of doing— his arms felt oddly restricted being covered up and he kept wanting to pull the belt higher. At least the Professor had made it clear to the seamstress who would be wearing this, as the breast plate and collar piece were designed for one with no chest to speak of.
When at last Ferdinand felt every piece was on correctly, he turned for the mirror, ready to look the very picture of strength.
Instead he froze.
Maroon buckles crisscrossed over this neck and clavicle. The boots did not reach as high but the leather armor around his knees made up the space. Fur lined the top of the outfit and gave Ferdinand the appearance of a more feminine chest. With less fabric around the waist, Ferdinand could see more of his legs overall— this was helped by the asymmetrical nature of the overcoat. He found he liked showing off his legs more.
In fact, Ferdinand found he liked everything about this outfit.
Grinning like a fool, Ferdinand turned this way and that in his mirror, admiring the leather skirt and slim belt, the laces of the bodice and the strategically placed fur. Giddiness coursed through him. All his fears had evaporated— Ferdinand could test out his hypothesis and look amazing doing so.
Ferdinand flung open his dorm window and called down, “Caspar! Spar with me!”
Caspar stared around for a moment before looking up and locating Ferdinand. “You got it!” He called back, smiling eagerly.
Returning the smile, Ferdinand dashed out of his room.
Their first match was axe against axe. Then Caspar switched to gauntlets. Then Ferdinand switched to lance. And on and on they fought, until the sun had set properly and the knight in charge of the training grounds had begun shooting them pointed looks.
At last, Caspar flopped onto his back. “Now that was a training session!” Caspar’s face was beet red and sweat slicked his hair, but his smile lingered. He rose on his elbows. “What’s with you today? I’ve never seen you with this much stamina.”
Leaning on his lance, Ferdinand caught his breath a bit more before replying. “Did I seem any stronger to you? Or faster?”
“Uh, maybe? What— did you have something special for dinner or something? Raphael was telling me he eats to get strong.”
“Skill does not come from food,” Ferdinand said, reaching down to lend Caspar a hand. “I simply… changed uniforms.”
Caspar took the hand and let Ferdinand pull him up. “I thought you looked a bit different!” Stepping back, Caspar looked Ferdinand over as if they hadn’t just been practicing melee combat for the past hour. “Huh. Looks good on you. Laundry mix up?”
Ferdinand scowled. “As if I would just wear some random clothes I found! No, I asked the Professor for these. It is my belief that the female uniform has advantages over the male one.”
“Ohhhh. Weird! I wonder if the female brawler uniform would make me stronger!”
“Caspar, there is no female brawler uniform.”
“Why not?”
“Women cannot be brawlers.”
“Why not.”
Ferdinand stared at him. “I… do not know.”
“Well that’s unfair,” Caspar huffed. “I wanna look good too.”
“You truly think this suits me?” Ferdinand turned in place before he could stop himself. No one would accuse Caspar of having an eye for fashion, but Ferdinand had always felt he was the most honest among the Eagles. He was also, apart from the students who had watched Ferdinand run out of the dormitory, the first person to see Ferdinand in this outfit.
“It does! I dunno how much stronger it made you, but if it makes you fight that hard I say keep it.” Caspar clapped him on the shoulder with an encouraging grin. “Hey— if the Professor is letting us switch class outfits, I think you should tell more people about it! Dorothea always complains about the poofy shoulders on her mage uniform but I noticed the guy’s version doesn’t have those. Maybe she’d be happier in a man’s mage uniform.”
Ferdinand had long admired the style of the female mage uniform— it was fitted to the hips and more appealing to the eye. But Caspar was correct that the shoulders weren’t popular around Garreg Mach. “I am sure she would appreciate the idea,” Ferdinand said with some reluctance. “But perhaps you should tell her. I am not in her good graces at the moment.”
Once they had sufficiently caught their breath, Caspar and Ferdinand put away their weapons and left the training grounds. Ferdinand tried to explain the exact reasons the female outfit improved fighting skill— but Caspar interrupted. “Why didn’t you just modify your uniform?”
“How do you mean?”
“If fabric and armor or whatever was the problem, then you could’ve just cut parts off your uniform. Or not warn some pieces. You didn’t have to ask for a whole new outfit.”
Ferdinand looked down at himself. The idea had never occurred to him. He could still do it, in fact. He could give the Professor this outfit back in the morning and modify his original brigand outfit in time for the next battle.
Disappointment unexpectedly settled in his stomach. The thought of parting with this outfit, of losing the fur and the covered arms and the exposed legs, made Ferdinand’s shoulders droop.
Before he could reply, someone bumped their shoulder rather harshly into Ferdinand. “Ah, my apologies, Miss,” said the someone. “I didn’t see— Ferdinand?”
Ferdinand turned to see Hubert’s eyes widening in the dim torchlight of the pathway. Those eyes stared openly for a brief moment, then Hubert’s face screwed up into the scowl he specifically reserved for speaking with Ferdinand. “What are you wearing?”
“My uniform,” Ferdinand replied, trying to force confidence into his words. He could have taken Caspar’s judgement, or the Professor’s, but he refused to hear a sour word from Hubert.
To his surprise— and relief— Hubert nodded. “It’s nearly curfew. You should both get to bed before Seteth catches you.” And with that, Hubert walked away.
Caspar snorted. “Shouldn’t he be getting to bed too then?”
Ferdinand, who found himself staring after Hubert, simply let out a hum of agreement, following Caspar distractedly when he started walking again. Just as Ferdinand had not previously considered how he might look in the female uniform, he had also not imagined the possibility of being misgendered.
For some reason, he was unbothered by the mixup.
“So,” Caspar began as they ascended the dormitory staircase, “are you going to wear every female-style uniform from now on? Or are you going to pick whichever one is the best to fight in?”
“I am not sure…” Ferdinand stopped on the top step, looking down at his slim belt and short boots. He set his shoulders back and aimed a grin at Caspar. “But I will definitely keep this uniform, at least.”
Caspar shrugged. “Whatever works. I think tomorrow I’ll look over my uniform and see what I can fix. Maybe if there was armor on my right shoulder too then I wouldn’t get cold so fast…”
They reached their doors, bid each other good night— and suddenly Ferdinand was alone with his new uniform and his thoughts.
The mirror showed Ferdinand a still-flushed version of himself. The leather skirt had become a little dirty in the fight and the fur on the hem of his coat had gotten pressed down on one side from a particularly brutal pin by Caspar. Other than that, the outfit still looked immaculate, in Ferdinand’s opinion.
He did another slow turn. Was this truly better than the male uniform, or did Ferdinand just feel better in it?
A question for another day. Hubert, wherever he was, had been right— it was getting late. Ferdinand took off each piece of clothing carefully and hung the whole alongside his male uniform. He spared it a glance. His original uniform did look a tad warmer. Perhaps he would wear it on missions that took them to the Kingdom or the northern parts of the Alliance.
That done, Ferdinand’s mind tried to turn to the other matter at hand—
“Ah, my apologies, Miss.”
— but Ferdinand shut that away for now too. His long evening of training demanded his sleep. Whatever confusing emotions that had tried to take hold could wait until breakfast, at the earliest.
He climbed into bed and blew out the candle. In the darkness, he could almost imagine Hubert’s wide eyes as he had looked Ferdinand up and down. Ferdinand buried his freshly-red face into his pillow.
Yet another thought that could wait until tomorrow.