This probably won't go more than five to six chapters so yes, I know I have other stories, but I haven't done a genderbent story in forever so I want to do this. Please bear with me!
It's not going to be overly dramatic so it might be a little anticlimactic. I'm actually experimenting with this and how being genderbent might change a lot of things when fit with a certain personality. You might see it later in the story.
But for now, please review what you think of my prologue! I hope you like what I can offer so far.
Prologue
He first saw her in the deep winter wilderness when he was but a very young boy. However, a passing wind blew the snow into his eyes and when he finally blinked away the white flakes that clung to his lashes, she was gone.
But he was soon distracted; Anderson was begging him to build snow forts and snowmen and tall pillars of ice for them to play with and he gladly obliged, forgetting all about the strange girl in the woods.
As for the girl herself, she did not take any notice of the boy with the ice blue eyes and the pale hair. She was, instead, watching for crimson sleighs and little wrapped gifts, for it was almost Christmas and that meant trying, and failing, to break into the ice-covered stronghold in the frigid north and disrupting the work that happened there every year.
She twirled her staff, laughing, and leapt into the air, the wind swirling around her slim legs and tangling in her long hair, and let it carry her away.
Years pass. The pale boy had enclosed himself in his room, gloved hands clenched and pressed to his belly as he sat hunched in a corner with his head bowed. Fragmented ice lay littered around him on the floor, gleaming in the light.
"Elson," his mother pleaded. She reached out, but he flinched away.
"Mother, please don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you."
His father stood above him, silent and watchful. A moment later, he turns and leaves. With one more distressed look at her son, the boy's mother leaves as well.
Left alone, the boy buries his face in his arms and weeps.
She lets out a breathless laugh, sapphire eyes shining with starlight as she twirls in the snow. Bare feet leave light indentions in the white powder and the leather strips wrapped around her calves flutter in the wind from her wild movements.
Frost flutters from her fingertips, sliding over glass and wood and stone. The adults grumble in the cold, but the children laugh, enchanted by the glittering wonderland around them.
When she is done she perches in the treetops, admiring her handiwork before she flips into the air and allows the wind to catch her and bear her somewhere else.
And so the years pass.