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Michael is thirteen years old when he first hears about the strange girl who lives on the outskirts of a neighbouring village. He travels with his older sister, Alexa, to the settlement to make trade with the locals. He sells woollen blankets knit by their mother while she gossips with women doing their laundry.
"She just showed up one day with nothing but a sword and her dog," he hears one remark, "she just moved into the old house on the edge of town and never said anything to anybody."
"I hear that she collects monster skins and that she's saving them to make a quilt," another huffs.
"How absurd!" Alexa comments politely, showing off the gowns they brought with them. She sells three to her new found chatting buddies.
As they walk home with their pockets laden with money from the trade, Michael looks over to Alexa cautiously, "Do you think they were telling the truth about the girl? Does she really live alone and collect bones to make weapons?"
Alexa rolls her eyes, "No Michael. Those women were just running their mouths, they only reason I put up with them is to make more sales. Don't pay any matter to their juvenile gossip, it doesn't concern you," she says, and the issue is forgotten.
^^^
Michael is fifteen when he sees the rumoured girl. He's been out collecting kindling for a fire when he stumbles back into the village at dusk and is surprised to see someone else out after the sun has set.
At first, Michael is sure it's just a stray monster and brandishing his sword, a shiny new gift from his birthday last month, he draws nearer. However, as he gets closer, he notices the movements aren't sporadic enough for an undead. The person is systematically peeking through windows and when they wander in the glow of torchlight: Michael is in awe.
It's a girl with ash blonde hair and hazel eyes who's grabbed his attention, and she's wearing a men's shirt and pants, clearly too big around her curved waist and thin arms. Her face is worn and smudged with dirt, but her eyes are clear and alert.
From afar, he watches as she finds an empty home, vacated when a woman named Caiti married his neighbour Jack, leaving her old home to live with her husband, and slips inside. Michael's just about to turn around when he sees a dog move from the shadows to her side, a bark the only sound through the night.
^^^
Michael is eighteen when he first meets the strange girl. It's been two years since she up and plopped herself down into the town he calls home, but it’s not like she's changed much around the village anyway. She keeps to herself and in the time she's taken up residence here, she hasn't acknowledged anyone else, let alone Michael specifically.
When he does finally get a chance to meet the girl, it's another late night. Now, as a young man, he's no longer sent on small supply runs before sunset, but expected to help guard the village throughout the night from creatures that prowl the streets. He's also supposed to help any people found wandering to safety, which is what leads him to the girl.
It's hours after dark when he sees her hop the fence meant to keep monsters out, a satchel secure across her hips. She begins to walk back to her house, and unlike when he was young, Michael's not willing to just watch from afar this time.
"Miss!" he calls, jogging over to her, sheathing his sword; it's become a little more battered than when it was little more than a decoration for his belt as a child, but strong nonetheless. She ignores him, "Excuse me!" And finally, she turns.
Michael nearly stops short, heart jumping from his chest. He hasn't really had a chance to see her since they were fifteen, and boy, has she changed. Her messy hair is now cropped off like a boy's around her ears, showing off a strong jawline he didn't know she had. Her eyes are unchanged, but her eyebrows are much thicker and less arched. Her chest is also seemingly smaller and her nose larger. However, despite all the changes, she still wears men's clothes, but now, her waist seems to fill in more of the tunic and her arms more muscular in the sleeves.
"Were you talking to me?" she asks, and wow, Michael was not expecting her voice to sound like what he can only describe as broken glass; delicate, but with a rough edge to it. And was that an accent from the mountain colonies?
"Yes," he replies, "I'm supposed to escort all civilians seen after dark to their preferred locations. Usually, home."
She purses her lips, eyes flitting to her satchel, before sighing. "Fine," she huffs, "you can walk me home."
Michael nods politely and gestures for her to lead the way, even though he knows exactly where she lives. It's hard not to notice when an otherwise empty area of town suddenly has a new hearth burning.
She begins to walk, her tread balanced and brisk, and Michael falls into step beside her. It's quiet through the settlement, the hiss of their boots against the gravel the only soundtrack to their journey.
"You know, you've lived here for years now, and I don't think I've ever caught your name," Michael finally says, looking to his counterpart.
She purses her lips again, but this time it's almost as in thought, "Gav. My name's Gav."
"What, no last name?" he teases and Gav shoots him a studying glance.
"I had one, but not anymore; now it's just Gav," she says shortly.
Michael nods, "Just Gav..." he repeats. And then, "I'm Michael. Michael Jones."
Gav nods, but doesn't say anything. They continue their trek up this hill to her home and Michael can't help but take note that she's still clinging to her satchel like a lifeline. Eventually they reach the little house and as Michael approaches, inside a dog barks once in warning.
"It's alright Arrow," Gav soothes through an open window, "it's just me. And... a friend." And Michael smiles at that.
Turning away from the window, Gav looks over to Michael, "Thank you, for making sure I got home safely. I appreciate it."
Michael shrugs, "It's my job to make sure that everyone's safe, but it was my pleasure. Let me get the door for you though," he says, gesturing to her full hands.
Gav blanches, face illuminated ghostly pale in the moonlight," No, no, no. That's okay, you've already done enough for me," She says, stepping back blindly. Michael opens his mouth to warn her as her boot catches the edge of her stoop, but it's too late; she and all of her belongings fall to the cobblestone ground. Her satchel clatters open and Arrow woofs inside.
"Are you alright?" Michael kneels alongside Gav, offering her a hand to get up. She stares for a second, then takes it gratefully; her hands are rough against Michael's. As she stands, she inspects a gash on her arm, slowly seeping blood onto the edge of her linen tunic.
"I'm fine, but-" she starts, but as Michael kneels to collect the bottles and papers strewn from her satchel across the dirt the words die on her tongue. "No, Michael, you don't have to do that."
As he rises to his feet with a handful of papers and a bottle, he shakes his head, "Yes, I do. You shouldn't have to do it, you're hurt. Besides, what kind of a man would I be if I..." and cuts himself off as he glances to the bottle, only to see the clearly printed label: TESTOSTERONE. "Uhh, Gav?"
She sighs, quivering slightly, "You should come inside."
^^^
Michael is nineteen when he learns something important about the girl. As the clock on her bedroom wall ticks over to 12:02 AM, he barely remembers it's his birthday in the midst of the situation at hand.
Gav sits on her bed as Michael kneels in front of her, pulling pebbles from the cut on her arm. Arrow lies at his side dozing peacefully. The room around him is cluttered, shelves filled with trinkets and bottles like the one from Gav's bag lining the walls.
"I know it's none of my business what you get up to, but what's a girl like you doing with a witch’s chemicals?" Michael finally asks and Gav visibly flinches.
"First of all, fuck you," and the clock ticks loudly on the wall. Michael furrows his brows, stopping his attention to her wounds for a moment.
"What? What did I-"
"Shut up, I'm not done," she says and Michael quiets, busying himself with rinsing her injury with iodine. "She's not a witch, she's the only one out there who understands.
"Second of all, I got them from a woman named Griffon, the physician and mage from the village where I lived as a child. She's been giving me what I need since I was young. She's not a witch and how dare you say she is." Gav's voice is eerily calm despite the anger clearly written on her face.
"I'm sorry," Michael says after he's sure she's finished speaking. "I didn't mean to insult your friend. I've just never seen such concoctions in the hands of anyone else."
Gav nods, and lets Michael wrap the gauze around her arm. As soon as he's done, she suddenly stands and grabs the bottle from the table. Twirling it in her hands, she tosses it to Michael.
"Back when Grif was much younger, she lived among the desert tribesmen. They taught her everything she knows about magic, medicines, and my situation."
Michael stood up, studying the bottle before looking back at Gav, "I'm confused, Gav. What do you mean "your situation" and why do you have this?"
"Grif gave it to me because of my situation. As for what that is, well, I'm not quite the man I need to be; it helps."
Michael's face contorts in confusion, "Man? But you're a girl?"
Gav huffs and her expression turns sour, "No, Michael. I’m a transgender male; I’m a man. Griffon learned from the desert tribes many years ago, and the priestess taught her so much. She was dual-spirited and knew everything about people like me.
"I was born eighteen years ago as the youngest of four brothers. My mother had prayed for a little girl, and when I arrived Griffon pronounced me female to my parents. They named me Genevieve and my mother was ecstatic that she finally had a little princess to dress up and teach everything there was to being a lady. My dad disagreed, but it didn't really matter because a year later, he died, leaving my mother to her vices.
"For a while, I kept to my mother's wishes; I wore the dresses, didn't play in the mud, learned to keep my head down, and always acted ladylike. A month after my eleventh birthday, something inside of me snapped and I just couldn't take it anymore. My mother sent me to Griffon hoping she could straighten me out, but when I cried to Grif that it wasn't fair I couldn't play like the other boys, she knew. She asked me question after question that day and just before she sent me home, she has asked me 'Genevieve, are you a boy or a girl?' and I had said boy immediately."
Michael listened easily as the girl- no, as the man- before him carefully explained his life, piece by piece.
"We kept it our little secret and for a year: Grif would spend time with me, teaching me, letting me play with Arrow, and just giving me a break from my mother. I remember that she used to keep a pair of clothes for me under her bed, a set of boy's trousers and a linen shirt; the first pair of pants I'd owned. When I was twelve, I went to Griffon and told her again that I didn't want to be a girl, that something was wrong because I was a boy, that my mommy was wrong. That's when she explained everything to me, from the dual-spirited priestess who taught her to what I could officially call myself: transgender," Gav stared out the window, looking out towards the grassy plains that belted the region between forest and mountains. "I started taking that, the testosterone, about five months later. Grif decided that if I was old enough realize who I was, I was old enough to start my transition. For four months, it was great. I took my medicine once a month when I went to Griffon's and she let me be myself. Then, my mother found out.
"She was furious when she realized that Griffon had been the one helping me hide my hair beneath hats; that she'd been the one to encourage me to do what made me comfortable. She demanded that Griffon stop it immediately and when she refused for the sake of my wellbeing, my mother falsely accused her as a worshipper of evil magic, and said that I'd been possessed by the same demons. Griffon was to be hanged and I sent to the chapel every day to be cleansed of her evil. While Grif sat in a cell for three days while the gallows were prepared, I never left that church. That reverend did awful things in the name of his Lord to cleanse me and those days remain the worst of my life. But on the third day, Grif appeared at dusk and took me away from that godforsaken hell.
"She let me live with her in the plains for a few months, but I left at thirteen when I realized that my mother could be looking for me. If Grif had gotten caught again, she surely would've been killed. So, I told her I was leaving to protect her. She cried and called me her brave little boy, then let me leave with six months’ worth of my hormones, instructions on how to take them, a sword, and her dog, Arrow. I changed my name to Gav, moved into that village adjacent to yours, in the thicker forests, and when I grew tired of the scenery, here.
"I still visit Griffon every six months, to get my medicine and just catch up." Gav scoffed, "I guess that's where the rumours that I was a freak who wore monster skin and ate their bones began; all the sneaking around dusk to return weeks later..."
He trailed off, still staring out the window and Michael remained quiet, mulling over Gav's story. By now, the two men were seated side by side on the floor, their backs against Gav's bed and Arrow’s head in Michael's lap.
"So there you have it," Gav said with a sense of finality, "my entire life's story on why I'm taking that-" he jerks his thumb back at the bottle that rests on the bed- "to become a better man."
Michael frowns, "My opinion may not mean much to you, but I think that’s a load of bullshit; you're a better man than even the greatest warriors. You've been through hell and back just trying to measure up to other men, but you already outweigh all of their merits. You're one of the strongest and most courageous people I've ever met," he says.
Gav looks at Michael and his lip quirks up slightly in a half-grin, "Thanks Michael. You're not so bad yourself..."
^^^
Michael is twenty-three when he marries the 'girl' he watched grow into a man. It's late August and sweat beads on the back of his neck as he stand across from Gav in the churchyard of their village. They're both dressed to the nines in fine suits and while Michael is freshly shaved, Gav sports a fine layer of stubble on his face that had started coming in two years ago.
After the day that Michael was welcomed into Gav's circle of trust, he'd fiercely defended and aided his friend throughout his transition. From the trips to Griffon’s for his medication, or the potions that completed the final touches hormones couldn't adjust to suit his needs, Michael had been there for it all. Along the way, the two had become closer than friends and today, as the two men stand side by side, there would be no way to tell that one had been born into the wrong body.
Griffon watches alongside Michael's family and another select few who were invited to the simple ceremony. It's nothing extravagant, but after they've exchanged rings, signed the papers, and shared cake, it's all either man could've wished for. Later that afternoon, Michael moves into Gav’s house atop the hill and Gav finally gets his last name back.
As dusk falls, Michael thinks back to when he first heard the rumours about Gav, when he was a curious preteen selling expensive leathers with a girl on his mind. But, as he falls asleep, it's the man that lays beside him now that he's truly fallen in love with and can't keep out of his head.