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Fitz asks his parents what they would have named him, had he been born a girl. (He ignores the ache in his chest at the thought.)
“Well, of course, we always thought Biana would be a lovely name for a baby girl,” Della says, and suddenly, Fitz is burning with jealousy that Biana gets to have a girl name and a girl body and she gets to be a girl. It’s a ridiculous feeling, really, and he tries to swallow it down.
“We were also thinking about Gormlaith,” adds Alden.
He raises an eyebrow. “Gormlaith?”
“It’s an old family name.”
Fitz isn’t too sure about Gormlaith. It feels weird. Not wrong the way that Fitzroy is, but weird.
Shortening Fitzroy to Fitz makes it feel less wrong. Something about it still feels off, like the world has been shifted a few inches to the left, but it’s fine. He can ignore the discomfort. Fitz is still far better than Fitzroy.
Maybe shortening Gormlaith would make it better.
Laith, Fitz thinks.
“Laith,” Fitz whispers, later, when he’s alone. It feels good on his lips, flowing easily, like music. “Laith.”
Fitz is supposed to go to the human world to look for the girl, not to shop. But Alden gives him quite a bit of human money for emergencies, and the bookstore was hard to resist. For all that the humans’ nonfiction works are laughable– do they really think dinosaurs are extinct?– their novels are breathtaking. So when Fitz has some extra time in one of the cities he’s supposed to search, he finds a bookstore and buys what he can. There’s a steadily growing collection of human books on his shelf at home, and they’re some of his favorite things he owns.
And it’s possible that the girl he’s looking for might also be an avid reader. Maybe he’ll find her in one of these bookstores. So really, it’s the responsible thing to do to go shopping here.
There’s a display table covered in little rainbow flags that Fitz finds himself gravitating towards. He picks up a book and flips it over to read the summary.
It’s written like a fairy tale, about a princess locked in a tower and a knight determined to help her escape.
And Fitz’s world goes spinning on its head, because the girl in the story, the princess, was born a prince.
He isn’t sure what to call the feeling that stirs in his chest at the words. It feels like longing, it feels like coming home, it feels like being understood. He doesn’t think it’s something he’s ever felt before.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the feeling vanishes, replaced by panic. Fitz suddenly feels like every other person in the store is staring at him, peering over the shoulder to read the book’s summary. Like they can somehow see every thought in his head, even though he knows humans can’t be telepaths.
Fitz feels like the book might be the sun. It’s warm, it’s bright, and it’s dangerous to fly to close.
He puts it down and leaves.
But the princess who was born a prince lingers on his mind for days. When he finally goes back to the human world, he rushes into the store and buys the book before he can change his mind. The book still feels dangerous to read, but also exciting, and impossible to put down. Fitz feels it again, that unfamiliar longing that rose in his chest when he first read the summary. Fitz wants … he doesn’t know what he wants, but he wants so much it hurts.
(Maybe she does know. Maybe she just doesn’t have the words yet.)
In the dead of night, Fitz thinks, I want to be like the princess in the book .
She thinks, maybe I already am.
Fitz runs.
She runs, because it’s easier than staying in her home right now. Her parents are fighting about who’s to blame for Alvar’s betrayal, and Biana stays in her room and cries, and the house is filled with memories of a brother she wants to hate but can’t. Fitz thinks she might suffocate if she stays in the house too long, so every morning, she wakes up and runs until she thinks she might collapse.
Sometimes, she thinks about running away from Everglen, instead of running laps around it. She thinks about running, and running, and not stopping for a very long time.
Running away, like Keefe did.
Fitz supposes she’s trying to outrun that too, the fact that her best friend, her… whatever, left to go join the Neverseen.
Her morning runs might be the best part of her day. She doesn’t have to be inside her house, with its heavy grief in the air. She doesn’t have to be surrounded by people staring and whispering about Alvar. She doesn’t have to be in class, hearing her mentors call her Mr. Vacker.
And despite pushing it to its limits, these runs are the only time when her body is actually tolerable to exist inside. Fitz can focus on the steady thump of her feet against the pavement, on the burning in her calves, on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She likes that her body is strong, and she likes that her body is fast. And when she’s running, she doesn’t have to think about the parts of her body that she doesn’t like. The too-flat chest and too-narrow hips and too-broad shoulders and the stubble on her chin.
Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.
It almost feels ridiculous, how much of her time and energy is spent feeling trapped inside her body. There are far bigger things to be worried about right now. She has to focus on helping Sophie fight the Neverseen, and Keefe swears he’s still on their side but he still ran away, and Alvar is gone, he’s a traitor, and Biana is miserable all the time and her parents miss their oldest son–
And, well, now Fitz is the only son they have left. She’s always wanted to be a good son to her parents, and she can’t fail at that now, not after Alvar’s betrayal. She has to be a good son, no matter how much she wishes she was their daughter.
Fitz runs and runs and runs and still can’t outrun the fact that she would much rather be Laith.
“Fitz?” Tiergan says, and Laith winces. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
Laith nods.
Tiergan waits for Sophie to leave before saying, “You’re hiding something from Sophie. It’s affecting your cognate bond.”
“I’m going to tell her! I will, I promise, I just– not yet, I need more time–”
“It’s okay,” Tiergan says gently, and Laith takes a deep breath.
“I’ve been… figuring some stuff out lately. About myself. And I know I’m supposed to tell Sophie everything, but I’m… not really ready to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to tell anyone before you’re ready.” Tiergan gives her a knowing look, like he can guess what kind of stuff Laith has been figuring out about herself. It’s terrifying, being known.
But there’s no judgement in Tiergan’s gaze. Only understanding.
Tiergan is Laith’s favorite mentor, and it’s not just because she loves telepathy. There’s something about Tiergan that makes her feel… something, something like recognition, something like what she felt when she read that book from the human world all those years ago. It’s his long hair and earrings and eyeliner, and the casual way he calls Prentice his partner, and how he corrects anyone who calls him sir.
Laith remembers hearing Tiergan say don’t call me sir for the first time, remembers feeling something click inside of her. Remembers realizing that she and Tiergan are alike, somehow. It bothers her when she’s called Mr. Vacker, and Tiergan is the only person she knows who shares her distaste for formal titles. (At least, formal titles that are used for men. Laith would love to be called Miss Vacker.)
The knowledge that he’s at least a little bit like her, that he understands her, is what gives Laith the courage to blurt out, “It bothers you when people call you sir, right?”
Tiergan doesn’t seem too confused by the complete non-sequitur. He simply nods.
“And you… I mean… would you, um, rather be called Lady Tiergan?” Are you like me?
“No. Just Tiergan.”
“What about when people call you he? Does that bother you?”
Tiergan shrugs. “Not really. He, she, and they are all acceptable. I don’t have much of a preference.”
You’re not quite like me, then , Laith thinks. I do have a preference. I hate being called he. I want someone, anyone, to call me she. I very much have a preference .
She also thinks, even if we’re not exactly alike, we’re similar. It’s nice to know someone else who doesn’t fit into the role the world gave them.
She doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she says, “Okay. Cool.”
“I would recommend telling Sophie what you told me,” Tiergan says. “That you’re figuring some things out, but you need time before you’re ready to talk about it. You don’t have to share anything that you’re not comfortable sharing, but it’s important to your cognate relationship that you communicate with one another.”
That’s a relief. Laith knows cognates are supposed to tell each other everything, but the thought of saying I’m a girl, my name is Laith out loud still makes her chest go tight with panic. But she can take her time. She can wait until she’s ready.
“Okay. Thanks, Tiergan.”
“Any time.” Tiergan smiles, and tentatively, Laith smiles back.
Laith knocks lightly on Biana’s door, hoping she’ll find her in a good mood. “Bee? Can I talk to you about something?”
Biana lets her in and sits down on the bed, twisting her fingers nervously. “That sounds scary. But okay.”
“It’s not scary,” Laith says, taking a seat beside her. It isn’t scary for Biana, at least. Laith wants to bury her face in a pillow and scream very loudly. “I just wanted to tell you that, um, I’ve been thinking about my identity and stuff lately, and I, um…”
Biana waits very patiently while Laith trips over her words.
“I’m a girl,” she blurts. Biana nods, and Laith continues rambling. “Um, Sophie told me that the human word for it is transgender. So, like, even though I was born a boy, I want to be a girl. Or. I am a girl.” She searches Biana’s face for any sign of rejection. “Is that okay?”
Laith isn’t sure what she expects Biana to say, or do, but she definitely doesn’t expect her sister to tackle her with a hug. “Of course it’s okay! This is awesome, I’m so excited, I always wanted a sister!”
“Oh,” Laith says, suddenly feeling exhausted, like she’s just gotten back from a long run. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.
“Did you think it wouldn’t be okay?” Biana asks, still hugging Laith so tightly she thinks her ribs might break.
“I… I don’t know. I tried really hard to be a good brother to you, and a good son to mom and dad, and I don’t know how they’re going to take it, finding out I’m not actually their son after Alvar already–”
“Don’t be stupid.” There’s so much affection in Biana’s voice that Laith thinks she might cry. “That’s not the same thing at all. There’s a big difference between being– what did you call it? Transgender?– between being transgender and being part of the Neverseen. Alvar sucks. You don’t suck. You’re my sister and I love you.”
“I love you too,” Laith whispers, and Biana squeezes her just a bit tighter before she lets go.
“Do you want me to call you something different? Other than Fitz?”
“Laith. I– I like the name Laith.”
“Laith! That’s pretty.” Biana falls silent for a moment, then claps excitedly. “Ooh, you have to let me take you shopping! Please please please please please–”
She laughs. “Okay, Bee, you can take me shopping.”
Biana cheers.
(Biana does, in fact, take her shopping, and it’s incredible. Laith has always hated mirrors, hated the sight of her own reflection. It’s always felt like looking at a completely different person, because the shape of her body looked so wrong , nothing like how she’s supposed to look.
But now, in the dress Biana helped her pick out, she actually likes her reflection. She can’t stop staring, can’t stop smiling.
The girl in the mirror looks like Laith.)