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“You look stupid in a dress.”
Vex’ahlia straightened the fabric out, tugging at the seams to try to loosen the stiff material. It clung tightly to her frame in some places and hung too loose in others, her body starting to grow and change in ways she was already tired of, in ways she’d been dreading since she learned about them.
“I know, but it’s not like I can go out there in anything else.” She sighed. “You look stupid in that too, that… whatever that is.”
“I think Father called it a tuxedo?” Vax’ildan shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric in a way not dissimilar to how his sister was wriggling and shifting in her too-fancy dress. “Do I look that bad…?”
“Not like, ugly bad. Just weird. It doesn't suit you.”
“I never thought I’d see you in that many sparkles,” Vax giggled, moving to tug at one of the sequins on his sister’s dress. “I wish I could wear it for you…”
“I would wear yours if I could. I hate this thing.” She adjusted it again, wincing as she heard a sudden ripping noise. “Oh, gods, did I-”
“Are the both of you done yet?” That was, of course, their father. It took no effort at all for Vex’ahlia to hate him, not since the day they met - not since the day he stole them away from their mother. Vax’ildan had tried desperately to please him, but it was obvious it wasn't working, his frustration with them ever-present, his distaste clear in every interaction - or lack thereof, Vex couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.
“Yes, Father,” Vax called from inside the room they were changing in. “We’ll be ready if anyone comes-”
“You had better hope they don’t,” Syldor snapped back. “If anyone comes to speak to you, they’ve already made more mistakes than I can bear. Just keep yourselves quiet and do not, under any circumstances, bother the guests. Understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Vax reiterated. “We won’t.”
“See to it then.” The sound of footsteps could be heard for a few moments down the hall, before their father turned a corner and the footfalls became too far away to hear. As soon as the sound faded, Vax began to cry. Quietly, of course, desperate not to be heard as he had been instructed. But it was plenty audible to his sister.
“You should take the stupid thing off,” Vex offered, trying to comfort him. “It’s not like anyone will come.”
“But if someone does…” Vax stuttered through tears. “Then we’re in so much trouble…”
“I don’t care if we’re in trouble! He’s so annoying and mean, I don’t care if we make him mad. He’s mad all the time anyway, so who cares!”
Vax flinched at the shift in the volume of his sister’s voice, the sudden gesture she made. The cause of that flinch, that fear, was not lost on Vex - she knew perfectly well that Vax took much more of the physical torment their father inflicted than she did, despite him protesting louder. He was easier to walk on, maybe that was why. Vex certainly didn’t like to let herself be walked on. She’d rather get kicked on her side than roll over.
But that did her no good in this scenario, so she swallowed her frustration and moved to wrap her arms around her brother.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She tangled her fingers in his slicked back hair, trying to pull a little of the gunk loose.
“It’s fine… don’t pull on my hair, it’s fine.” He grumbled, pulling away. She didn't move her hand fast enough, and tugged a little too hard, causing a yelp from her brother. She winced at that noise herself, sick of hearing him in pain, sicker that she could inflict more on him even by accident.
“Sorry…”
“It’s fine. Just…” He trailed off, looking down at the fine fabric of the tux he had on, fitting in all the wrong ways.
“Just what?” Vex pried. “It’s fine, you can say it.”
“I just wish he hadn't put this stuff in my hair, that’s all.” That was definitely not all, but Vex had to tolerate it as an answer for now. Instead of pushing further, she took a brush from the stand beside her and dunked it in water, starting to run it through her brother’s hair.
“What are you doing?” He squeaked, an undignified noise that made Vex giggle. “You’ll get this thing wet!”
“Not like anybody’s gonna see it before it dries. And you said you wanted the goop out, so I’m getting it out. It comes out with water, right?”
“I didn’t say- you shouldn’t take it out. I don’t want him to be upset-” Vex shushed him, continuing to run the brush through his hair, the gel slowly starting to release the strands from the glued-together mess it had caused.
“Looks like it does,” she said. “Almost got it. Relax.”
“Fine…”
“Vax?”
“Yeah?”
A silence hung in the room for a moment. Vex swallowed around the lump in her throat.
“I wish I could be like you.”
“What do you mean?” He turned around, a little bit of water slinging off his hair. “I thought you hated how I act around Father-”
“Not like that,” she cut in. “Like… how you look.”
“You want to wear this thing? Trust me, it sucks. It’s stiff and uncomfortable and pinches and-”
“No! Well, yes, but… no. More than that.”
“What, then?” Vax tilted his head, confused. Vex swallowed again, desperately trying to bury the anxiety in her chest.
“I wish I could be a boy.”
There. She said it. It was out in the open.
“Well, I wish I could be a girl. So I guess we’re even.”
Wait, what?
“What, what?” His response drew Vex’s attention to the fact that she had said that out loud, and she turned her face away, trying to hide her expression.
“You also want to change?”
“I… yeah…” His voice was nearly a whisper, clearly harboring the same fear she felt, though she tried her best to hide it from him. “Are you… mad at me…?”
“No! No, I… I just wish…”
“I would trade with you. If I ever could.”
Vex nodded, a silent affirmation that she would do the same.
“Do you promise I look bad in this suit thing?”
“I thought it was called a tuxedo,” she responded.
“I’m serious, Vex…”
“Sorry,” she shook her head, clearing the smile from her face. “Yes, you look terrible. Like, hard to look at terrible. Mostly because you’re clearly miserable… a little because it’s wet, but mostly because you're miserable.”
“The wet is your fault,” he retorted, “but… you mean it?”
“Yes. I do.”
He smiled at that. There weren’t words for a moment, the room silent and still - and then he pulled her into a tight hug, water from his hair dripping onto her dress.
She didn’t mind, she thought, if it got ruined.
“Good,” he finally said. “I’d much rather look good in yours.”
“If I can manage to get out of it after, you can try it on,” she smiled at him. “If I can try yours, anyway.”
“You can try it as long as you keep me from tearing it off myself first.”
“It’s that bad, huh?”
He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, it was that bad.
“Brother, just take it off. You look so miserable.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, anger crossing his face. That anger quickly replaced itself with fear as he realized he’d responded too quickly, too harshly.
“I… what?”
“I didn’t… I mean…”
“Don’t call you brother?” She pushed.
“... Yeah.”
“Does it hurt? When I say it like that?” She grimaced. She hated the idea of hurting him.
“... A little, yeah…”
A pause, and then-
“I won’t anymore, then.” She proclaimed. “From here on out, forevermore, you are my sister.”
She expected her brother - sister, she corrected herself - to react in… some way. She wasn’t sure what she expected, actually.
But whatever she thought would happen, she didn’t predict him - her? - bursting into tears.
“Are you okay?” A pause. He - she - kept crying. “Sister…?”
“It’s good,” she finally forced out. “It’s really, really good.”
That was good, then. That was fine. She could work with that
But…
“Sister?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I change too? Can I… be your brother?”
“Yes,” a snap response - not angry, just immediate. An immediate, emphatic yes. He could be her brother, and she could be his sister. And everything…
“Everything can be okay,” he said out loud.
“Everything can be okay?” His sister - his sister - responded with a question, not a confirmation.
“Yeah,” he said, the same immediacy to his answer. “Everything can be okay.”
“He’s going to be furious.”
“I don’t care. You're my sister. And I love you. And nothing else matters, gods dammit-”
“Don’t swear!” She admonished, falling into the same thing their father always said when her brother - brother - made the same mistake.
“Nothing else matters,” he finished. “As long as I have you.”
That was a good enough finish for her.
“Brother?”
“Yes, sister?”
“I don’t want to be Vax’ildan.”
“Well, I don’t want to be Vex’ahlia. So I propose a trade.” Her brother smirked.
“A trade?”
“Yeah. A trade. I’ll take your name, and you’ll take mine. I’ll be Vax, and you’ll be Vex - I’ll be your brother, and you’ll be my sister.”
“I’m Vex, he’s Vax,” she said. Her brother - Vax, her brother Vax, the name no longer hers - laughed, a real, loud laugh that they weren’t allowed to do in their father’s presence.
“I’m Vax, she’s Vex,” he stated, sticking his chin up in the air, proud of himself.
“I like that, I think.”
“I think I like it too.” He grinned. “So, sister…”
“What, brother?” They were both grinning now, the euphoria of it all setting in.
“I think it’s time we get out of these clothes. They clearly don’t match us, and that just won’t do.” He giggled again. Vex - that was her name now - looked at the ground, fidgeting with the fabric.
“Right?” He pressed, and finally she nodded.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Cool,” her brother said, and dragged the dress up over his head, discarding it and moving to pick up the shirt he’d had on before.
“Not that,” Vex shook her head. “Put this on.” She held out her shirt to her brother - not a blouse, just a shirt with a low, slight collar to it. Far too boyish for her, she thought. But maybe not for him.
“Trade me, then,” he said, holding the still-too-fancy blouse out to her. Wordlessly, she accepted the offering, tugging it on over her head.
“This looks so much better,” Vax grinned, turning around from the mirror he’d been looking at himself in. He drew a short gasp when he saw his newly christened sister in the silky fabric of his old clothing. “Oh, you…”
“Is it bad?” She winced.
“No. No, you look…” he paused, not sure what to say for a moment. Then: “You look pretty.”
“I… do?”
“Yes.” An affirmative nod.
“I’m pretty…” she smiled. “I’m pretty. I’m pretty!” His sister spun around, the blouse flaring out just a little at the bottom, barely noticeable were it not for the fact that they were both fixated on its existence upon her.
“You are,” he said, “and I’m dashingly handsome.”
She shoved him, gently, on the shoulder. “Gross,” she giggled. And then… “Father’s going to kill us.”
“Father won’t even notice.”
“He will when you start… growing, and I don’t. Do you really think he wouldn’t catch on before that?”
“Well, considering your voice is still high enough to sound like a girl, and I can lower mine, he definitely won’t notice that. And he doesn’t pay nearly enough attention to us to notice anything else.”
“He’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, a dark look crossing her face.
“We’ll run away, then.”
What?
“What?” She said out loud.
“We’ll run away! We’ll pack our things and leave, and go back to Mother. And she’ll love us exactly how we are.”
“Do you really think that will work?”
“It won’t not work.”
She smiled.
“I’ll have to trust my brother’s advice, then.”
“Don’t worry, sister. I’ll fight off all the terrible beasts in the forests.”
“With what, the kitchen knives you keep stealing?” She laughed.
“Something like that!” He grinned, puffing out his chest in a distinctly boyish way.
“Well, you'd better steal some more. And some bags for our things. We’ll need them.”
“We will.”
A pause.
“Vex?”
“Yes, brother?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. You’re the best brother in the whole world.”
“You’re the best sister in the whole world.”
There was comfort, then, in holding each other, in feeling the fabric on each other’s skin, smooth silk on her and rougher, soft cotton on him. Comfort in knowing what no one else knew - knowing she was Vex, and he was Vax, and they were exactly how they wanted to be.
They were good at keeping secrets. And someday, they both thought, they wouldn’t have to keep them anymore.