Survival Skills, task 2: someone making a change in their life
Word Count: 790
Warnings: outdated gender roles, misgendering
A note on pronouns: In keeping with both the time and Phoebe's upbringing, Phoebe continues to use she/her despite being a trans man.
"What are you doing?"
Phoebe freezes at the sound of her brother's voice. She tries to find some comfort in the fact that it's Licorus who has caught her, rather than her parents. Still, Licorus is their father's golden boy, the good son; he is hardly an ally in this oppressive house.
Worse still, Phoebe knows that she cannot charm her brother the way she does her parents, especially with the outfit she's wearing now. She had worn a gown to bed, only to change into trousers and a tailored shirt the moment she was certain everyone was in bed. The clothes— men's clothes, her mother would call them— only confirm her betrayal and the otherness she has tried so desperately to hide from her family.
"I cannot stay in this house a moment longer," she says, and she stands a little straighter and squares her shoulders. It's a posture she's seen at Hogwarts. Boys hold themselves a certain way to assert their authority. It comes so easily to her now, like she's always meant to be like this. "It isn't a good place for me."
Licorus steps forward, the floorboard creaking beneath his foot. The sound makes his eyes widen, and they both freeze, tense and afraid, listening for the tell-tale sounds of their parents stirring. The concern in his dark eyes tells her all she needs to know. Licorus is a friend. It makes her wonder if he's like her, just playing a role to make their family happy, lest they suffer the same fate as Eduardus.
"Where will you go, Phoebe? You're a girl."
She scowls, cursing the organ between her legs for defining who she's meant to be. It's all an illusion. Though she has wide hips— good for producing heirs— and delicate features, she is not a girl. No matter what her family says. No matter how feminine she is forced to be. No matter how many men look at her and dream of making her their wife.
It's something she has felt for so long, though she has never dared to voice it aloud, except to Moira. Who would understand? Certainly not her mother, who dresses Phoebe up and shows her off. Not her father, who sees Phoebe as a bargaining chip, a way to secure an alliance with a powerful family.
"That isn't true," she tells him, her throat constricting. She hates the way her voice trembles, betraying her emotions. Men are meant to be strong, but she doesn't feel particularly strong now. "I… I am a man, Licorus."
There's a strange tension in his shoulders. Licorus pushes a hand through his dark curls, frowning. She wonders if he believes her, if he somehow understands that she isn't crazy. Alexia had been insane; Phoebe has her wits about her, and her mind is sharp. She knows who she is, even if others cannot see it.
"Sister, please."
The word hurts, and she flinches as though he has physically struck her. She shakes her head. Of course he doesn't understand.
"You may think you're a man," Licorus says, taking a step closer, reaching out a hand; Phoebe steps back, glaring at him. "Perhaps you are. Who's to say? But look at us. Look at our family. We don't get to control our lives. We must do what is expected of us."
It's what she's been told her whole life. From the moment she could walk and talk, her parents have taught her their ways, shaping her into the perfect daughter. Reputation is everything, and what would happen if she shattered the image her family has so carefully crafted?
"I'm sorry," she says. "It's time for a change."
She cannot live her life for them. Try as she might, it leaves her feeling stuck, like she can't breathe. Only when she is with Moira and living her life as her true self does she feel like everything will be okay.
"Phoebe…"
Without a word, she turns on her heel and descends the staircase. Each step feels like a new weight lifting. As she nears the door, she knows this is the right choice. This is the path to freedom, and she will take it.
Moira is waiting for her outside, anxiously bouncing on the balls of her feet. When she sees Phoebe, her golden-brown eyes light up, and she smiles. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," she says, holding out her hand.
Phoebe happily accepts it, pulling her lover closer and pressing a kiss to Moira's cheek. "Forget about you?" she scoffs. "Never."
This is a new beginning, and she isn't sure what will come of it. All she knows is that she needs this, and at least she is free.
