Chapter Text
There was something deep inside Ferdinand that regretted everything he’d done up to this very moment. All it took was one sharp glare from his father to bring him down from utter confidence to utter despair.
“You want what? To be called… Ferdinand?” his father spoke evenly, eyebrow raising.
A moment ago, Ferdinand would have boisterously concurred, but the dread that now simmered within him kept his mouth sealed shut. He could only muster a short nod.
His father sat back in his seat and set aside some papers he had been looking over before Ferdinand had asked for a moment to speak. He looked over his child in utter confusion.
“Certainly you’re joking. You’re kidding me, aren’t you? You must be,” his father rumbled, face screwed in disgust. “You are a young lady. You will be called nothing other than your Goddess-given name, and you will stop this blasphemous charade this instant!”
Ferdinand jumped at his father’s vehement refusal and blinked at him, fear cementing itself deep in his gut.
“B-but Father–,”
“No! Get out of my sight. I will not see you until this ridiculous idea is clear from your head. You have other things to worry about, like the Officers’ Academy! ’Ferdinand.’ Pah!”
Ferdinand flicked his gaze down to the floor, tears stinging at his eyes. His breath stuttered in his chest and he turned away from his father. It took him a moment to urge his legs to move. Did… that just happen? Did his father really just reject him? Ferdinand walked slowly out of the room and broke into a sprint the moment he was out of his father’s sight. Sobs rose from deep within him as he ran, and he knew by the time he reached the stables he would look like a mess.
He wasn’t going to run away, not when his ticket out from under his father’s boot was mere days away, but he felt a ride would help him calm down. His horse, Buttercup, was already prepped for him when he arrived, and he thanked the Goddess that he’d requested her be prepped for him ahead of time. The stablehand greeted him with a smile and passed the reins over once Ferdinand reached him, but his expression flipped into concern as he took in Ferdinand’s tear- and snot-covered face.
“Lady Aegir! Are you alright? What is the matter?” he asked. Ferdinand winced at his title and elected not to react, only mounting his horse with urgency.
“Nothing, Bruce. Thank you for preparing Buttercup for me. I shall return in a few hours,” he spoke evenly, though his voice threatened to break.
Ferdinand rode off without another word, feeling himself slip away from the fear and anguish the further he rode from the manor.
...
Many days later, Ferdinand stood in his dorm at the Officers’ Academy at Garreg Mach. It was almost time for classes to begin, and he wasn’t even dressed. How could he? His uniform was splayed out across his bed, and he glared at it with revulsion. It was a simple dress, one of the more modest versions of the girls’ uniform. He had worn plenty of dresses since he discovered he was a boy, really, but the thought of having to pretend in front of his classmates and future colleagues was… horrifying, to say the least.
A knock at his door shook him out of his stupor and he went to answer it, still in his bedclothes. When Ferdinand opened the door, he was struck with confusion and the slightest tinge of fear.
“Hubert! Um, hello! What do you need this fine morning?” Ferdinand croaked, hiding halfway behind the door to conceal his state of undress.
“Why are you not ready for class yet? We only have but ten minutes until the Professor calls roll,” Hubert spoke, furrowing his brow at Ferdinand’s thick swallow at the mention of class.
“Um! I’m just having a bit of trouble with my uniform, is all! I will be down soon enough, I assure you,” Ferdinand squeaked, moving to shut the door.
Hubert frowned and held the door open.
“What do you mean? Your uniform should be tailored exactly to your fit. What’s really going on, von Aegir?”
Ferdinand felt himself relax a little at the avoidance of his title.
“Hubert, really, it is of no matter to you– Please, just return to her Highness and I will be down in a moment,” he said, resolve settling within his chest. He would wear the stupid dress until he could muster enough strength to tell someone again.
Hubert snorted and stepped back from the door.
“Just hurry up,” he grunted, and headed back to the classroom.
Ferdinand closed the door behind him, fully aware that Hubert wasn’t going to forget this. He probably would pester Ferdinand about it later, suspecting some foul play or something. Ferdinand shook his head and moved towards the bed to don his uniform.
...
After their first day, Ferdinand was utterly beat. The class wasn’t hard per se, but the constant misgendering he dealt with during was quite the struggle. He had half a mind to just announce it in front of the entire Black Eagle House! But no, that wouldn’t do. He had to figure out some way to come out with finesse, the way a proper noble would. Ferdinand hummed at his thoughts, feeling a bit silly. In all his eighteen years, he had never heard of a noble transitioning in public. There had to be someone, though, right?
As he was getting lost in his thoughts, he felt a presence at his right.
“Dorothea! Hello, how are you?” he greeted, feeling himself open up a bit at the songstress’s smile.
“Oh, I’m just fine, how are you?” she hummed, a flash of… something glimmering in her eyes.
“Just lovely! Only a little tired,” Ferdinand admitted, hands going to play with the braid that curled over his shoulder.
“Aw, I understand. It’s quite a lot, being here, isn’t it?” she said, bumping her shoulder with his.
Ferdinand felt a flutter of comfort in his stomach. They spoke all the way to the dining hall and ended up eating together.
...
The weeks that followed were fine. Really! Ferdinand was excelling in class and he was hardly worried about their coming mission. He took tea with Dorothea much more often than he expected to, he sparred with Petra and Caspar almost on the daily, and he found himself feeling more comfortable around the rest of the Black Eagles. Well, almost all of them; there was still the trouble of Hubert and his sharp gaze. Ferdinand felt he was quite undeserving of the way Hubert watched him, like he was some plotting miscreant, like he held some meddlesome evil plan or devastating secret.
Ferdinand would hardly call what secret he held ‘devastating,’ but he supposed it would have to be aired somewhat soon. Despite his success with his classmates, having them call him by his birth name dug deep in his chest like the claws of a wyvern. Some, especially Dorothea, elected to call him a nickname based off of it, which was better in some ways and rather worse in others. One Sunday, during a particularly jovial teatime, Ferdinand decided he would tell Dorothea there and then.
“Erm, Dorothea? I have… kind of… a secret to disclose to you?” he spoke, eyes flicking to the finely groomed gardens around them.
“Oh? Do tell!” she hummed back at him. She smiled at him openly, and Ferdinand felt a stirring feeling that she might not have been as kind to him if she had met him as a young nobleman. The thought made him a little sick, but he pushed through that to look her in the eyes.
“I am… really a boy. That is, I’m… transgender, Dorothea, and I am really a boy even though I was raised as a girl.”
Dorothea blinked at him and sat back in her seat, setting her teacup gently down on its saucer.
“Well. That’s… certainly something,” she said vacantly, gaze sliding off of him.
Fear spiked in Ferdinand’s gut. Was she going to reject him, too? Would she tell the whole class in disgust? What if she told the whole school? The church!?
Dorothea must have seen his spiraling thoughts in his expression, because before Ferdinand could go into full panic mode, she reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Do not mistake my shock for malice! I was just… a little surprised by your confession. I knew there was something different about you, but I didn’t quite expect this,” she explained, worry furrowing her gentle brow.
“You… believe me?” Ferdinand practically whispered.
A small smile spread across Dorothea’s lips.
“Of course I do.”
The two shared a calm moment of understanding before Dorothea perked up.
“So! Have you thought of a new name for yourself?” she grinned at him.
“Y-yes, I have, actually! I would like to be called Ferdinand,” he said, fidgeting with the pleats of his dress.
“Ooh, Ferdinand von Aegir! I like the sound of that!” Dorothea hummed, and a warmth bloomed within Ferdinand’s chest. “Now, when are we telling everyone else, hmm? I don’t mind helping spread the word if need be.”
“Um! I wanted to… take it slow,” Ferdinand said. “I figure I might tell Petra and Caspar the next time we spar together, and see how that goes. The rest of the Black Eagles will hear soon enough after that, I suppose.”
Dorothea gave an understanding nod, tapping her manicured nail on her cheek in thought.
“Well, our lovely professor is nonbinary themself. I think you might want to talk to them if you’re at all worried about all this ‘telling other people’ thing,” she said, smiling earnestly at him. “Do you want me to call you… your other name until you’ve told everyone?”
Ferdinand nodded solemnly, swirling the last bit of tea that was left in his cup, watching the leaves tumble around within.
Dorothea finished her tea and stood.
“Well, Ferdie, let’s get back to it! We don’t want the professor to come looking for us,” she said, pulling Ferdinand out of his seat.
Ferdinand felt his heart swell at the new nickname. Even if telling other people might end up going terribly, at least his new songstress friend was supportive of him.
“We must find you a new uniform, too, once you’ve told everyone! …Unless you like the dress, of course,” Dorothea chirped as they walked.
Ferdinand let a boisterous laugh escape from his chest.
“I most certainly would enjoy a new uniform! This one is quite stuffy, and it hugs my, er… curves too closely,” he said, dysphoria flaring a bit within him.
Dorothea let out a sympathetic hum and bumped his shoulder with hers.
“We’ll fix that soon enough.”