Refection
From the moment she had first laid eyes upon her firstborn child, Rachel had fallen in love, and for all the years that followed she remained just as much in love with Oz as she felt on that first day.
She wish she had known more at the time... Looking back now, she wondered if it was her fault somehow, if her body had betrayed her and, as a result, she had failed her child... She tried to rid herself of these thoughts, insist that things were alright now and that they would be alright in the future, that Oz would be happy and she would make sure of it, but those thoughts still came back every once in a while.
After all, life was not going to be easy for her son... not when he had spent so many years as the first daughter of the Vessalius family.
For the first three years or so of her life, Oz was as happy as a child could be, warm, affectionate, but also quite mischievous. Even at such a young age she had the most infectious smile and spirit, and for Rachel, the mere sight of her little girl would brighten her day, and she thanked the powers that be for bringing her such a lovely, sweet child.
Somewhere between the age of three and four, however, something seemed to change.
There must have been signs before then, but the first time Rachel took note of her daughter's words was when the little girl was merely four years old. Oz had grabbed her mother by the skirts of her dress and her uncle by the pants legs and all but demanded they come to the playroom (as they had simply been speaking over tea they decided to oblige), explaining when they arrived that they were going to play an 'adventure game' with Rachel as the princess and Oscar as the dragon.
"Oh?" Oscar chuckled, crossing his arms and casting an amused smile towards Rachel, "I would have thought you would be the princess, Oz. Isn't mama a little old for that?"
"Excuse me?" Rachel narrowed her eyes at the man, but Oz was already leaping to her defense, shaking her head vigorously.
"Mama is a Princess!" the little girl insisted, placing her hands on her hips and glowering at her uncle in a way that was far to obviously learned from the head maid, Mrs. Kate, for both Oscar and Rachel to resist chuckling at. "She's pretty and kind and the best mama ever!"
Rachel smiled at her daughter as Oscar laughed, raising his hands in front of him as though to defend himself from the little girls 'fury'.
"Okay, okay, you're right. I guess the big old dragon isn't very nice to princesses huh?" he grinned, then said, "So... If you are not going to be the Princess, what are you going to be, Oz?"
In response to this, Oz's cute little glower transformed into a bright grin, the young girl dashing to a bundle of her toys and pulling out one of the sticks from her broken diablo, turning and pointing it at her uncle with purpose, "I'm gonna be Edgar!"
"Edgar? The character from that Holy Knight book?" Rachel asked, remembering the child version of the book that Oscar had given the girl for her last birthday.
"Yup!" Oz nodded happily, rushing back over and looking up at her mother with her eyes full of wonder, "he is brave and strong and really cool! I wanna be just like him!"
"Whaaaat?" Oscar's voice sounded as Oz was scooped up off the ground, the young girl giggling as Oscar tossed her in the air above his head, "Our sweet little Oz wants to play as a smelly boy? But you make such a lovely princess!" Rachel rolled her eyes. Oscar always did like to dote on Oz as though she where his own; Rachel wondered if the poor girl was ever going to find a suitor in the future with her overprotective uncle around, "Maybe Mama can be the dragon Uncle Oscar can save the day!"
"No, I want to be the hero!" Oz insisted, waving her imaginary sword around above her uncle's head, "So, I'm Edgar!"
"Oz, dear," Rachel chuckled as Oscar lowered the girl so that he held her in his arms, reaching out and brushing the young girls hair out of her face,"you know you don't have to be a boy to be a hero, right? Girls can be heroes too, like Lady Jacqueline." The young girl blinked at her mother, her expression blank, and Rachel wondered if it was because she did not remember the stories of the great Vessalius. "During the Tragedy of Sabrie, she was the lady who saved everyone from the Baskervilles, wasn't she?" Again, Oz's expression remained neutral, but after a moment the little girl nodded with a quiet hum of understanding. Rachel smiled. "So... why don't you pretend to be Lady Jacqueline,then? I hear that she even had lovely green eyes and beautiful long, golden hair, just like you."
Oz's eyes lowered to the stick in her hand as though to ponder her mother's suggestion, but almost immediately she shook her head. "No..." she said, raising her eyes once again to look at her mother, "I want to be Edgar."
And in that moment... Rachel saw something in her daughter's eyes, an emotion that she could not place. Whatever it was, however, it veiled and dulled the usual spark the seemed to reside within them, and caused something inside the young woman to go cold.
Rachel was snapped back to reality when Oscar put the little girl down with a sigh, stating that fine, she could be Edgar, but next time Oscar got to save Princess Oz from the dragon. Oz stuck her tongue out and whacked the man's knee with the diablo stick, shocking both adults and causing Oscar to almost fall as he stumbled in pain. "Let Princess Mama go!" Oz yelled, grinning widely, and the game began, by the end of which Oscar had more than a few aches and pains in his legs from the little girl. ("She's stronger than she looks!" Oscar huffed as Rachel laughed.)
That was probably the earliest sign that Rachel had witnessed... And after that play session she noticed that Oz always, without fail, took on the role of male characters in her games whenever possible.
As the days and months and weeks went by, however, Rachel noticed that there was something... wrong with her daughter... The sweet little child who had always laughed and smiled and brightened her day seemed to be growing quieter, her smile began to lose it's light, the spark in her eyes dimming... There were days when she was Oz, bouncing and bright and full of the joys of life, but more often than that she was quiet and finicky. Some just said she was growing up, but Rachel knew that wasn't it...
The next biggest change in her daughter was her sudden aversion to dolls, tea parties, and, more than anything, dresses. In truth, Oz had never been partial to the overly frilly clothes that she was sometimes dressed in, but her dislike suddenly began to grow to contempt, until eventually the young girl began to refuse to wear the clothes without a struggle. On more than one occasion, Oz had wriggled out of one of her beautiful little dresses in favor of running about in nothing her undergarments, much to the distress of those around her. Any attempt to re-clothe the young girl resulted in tears and tantrums, after which she either sulked or simply went quiet, her eyes looking downward and her little hands tugging at the fabric of the dress until she was scolded for doing so. Many people, including Rachel, had tried to ask Oz why she kept taking off her dresses, but the only answer the little girl gave was 'I don't like them.' The simpler clothes seemed to upset the girl less, but she still was not very keen on them.
'Tomboy' was a word that many began to use to describe Oz over the next year of her life (and it was not meant as a complement by the majority who used it). Oz had only one pair of trousers for horse riding, but they quickly become something the little girl adorned whenever she got the chance, and she preferred to spend her time climbing trees than playing with the many stuffed animals and toys in her playroom (though, admittedly, Oz had never quite taken to them, either). She also began asking to have her hair tied back or up out of the way, and when she was refused she would sometimes attempt to messily tuck it into her collar, which she would also be scolded for and forced to pull it back out. She was becoming agitated more and more often, and no one seemed to know what to do about it.
Everything finally came together one day in early Spring. Oz had once again slipped away from her carers (how she managed it again and again Rachel would never know, but she was silently impressed), and Rachel had stumbled upon the two frantic maids as she left her afternoon tea session with Ms. Reinsworth. She smiled to herself and walked past them, heading in the direction of the master bedroom. Perhaps she should have been more concerned by her daughter's disappearance, but Oz's escapades were so common now she was very rarely phased by them anymore. Besides, Oz often liked to hide in her parents bedroom (whenever Zai was travelling, that was), so Rachel thought she would check there before she began to worry.
As expected, Rachel found her daughter in the master bedroom, standing before the full-length mirror her mother used every morning... with a pair of scissors in her hands and strands of golden hair all around her feet.
"Oz!" the young woman exclaimed in shock and immediately wish she hadn't; the poor child jumped in fright at the sound of her mother's voice and the pair of scissors in her small hands fell to the floor with a thud. "Ah, no, I'm sorry sweetheart, are you alright?" she said in as soft a tone as she could manage, crossing the room as swiftly as possible with her eyes on the young girl's feet, praying the scissors had not cut her when they fell. When she saw no injuries her hands immediately went to the young girls head,fingers running through the little girls once-long golden hair, chopped unevenly all around by the hands of a child.
"Oh Oz, what did you do?" Rachel muttered as she examined the damage, but when her eyes feel to her daughter's face Rachel froze. Oz had been silent since her mother had entered the room, and was now staring at her mother with wide, terrified eyes, her mouth agape and her little hands trembling. "Oz?" Rachel asked, her voice quiet, afraid that if she spoke too loudly her little girl would crumble.
"I-I," Oz stuttered as her eyes welled up with tears, quivering hands coming up to settle on her own head as if trying to hide what she had done, "I'm sorry mama." Before Rachel had a chance to say another world, tears were rolling down Oz's cheeks, and the young woman scooped her daughter into her arms and began to shush her and rock her gently as her quiet sniffles turned into loud cries, her small hands holding on tightly to her mothers dress and her face buried in Rachel's shoulder. Rachel seated herself on an armchair near the mirror and settled Oz on her lap, humming softly as she waited for the little girl to calm down.
"Oz, sweetie..." she asked after Oz had settled down a few minutes later, tucking what remained of the little girl's locks behind her ear, "Why did you cut your hair?" Oz sniffed and turned her head away, eyes downcast and refusing to look at her mother. Rachel, in response, wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her closer so that her head was leaning against her mother's chest. "Come now," she said, "You can tell your mama, can't you?"
For a few moment's Oz was silent, before she simply said, "I don't like it..."
"You don't like it?" Rachel asked curiously, to which Oz merely shook her head, still looking away from her mother, "But why is that?"
"It..." Oz paused,her face scrunched up as if she was having trouble thinking of what to say. Did she even have a reason to dislike it, Rachel briefly wondered. "It... E-everyone... says its pretty..." Oz offered as a way of explaining, but seemed to realise that was not enough, because she added. "It's girl hair..."
Rachel blinked, confused by the statement... but it was what Oz said next that caused something to click inside the young woman's mind.
"And..." Oz muttered, "I'm a boy, mama."
Rachel sat in silence after Oz said this... But it was not out of shock or confusion or anger or anything of the sort. Such words from a little girl... They should have been strange, shouldn't they? But... Rachel, instead, felt as though she had just received that last piece of a puzzle, and though she did not wish to label the emotion it stirred in her, it felt almost like... Relief?
Rachel had been raised as a potential suitor for nobility, and as such she had been expected to ignore or avoid certain subjects... But Rachel appeared to have an inbuilt desire to learn about the mysterious things she was told to were 'not her concern'. In fact, the very fact she was told to avoid such things only made her all the more curious. And so, through her friends in school, through books and her own research, she had learned many things about the world that had not been in the books her teachers gave her. She learned of faraway lands, of strange religions, the occult, foreign customs... she learned of men who loved other men, women who loved women...
And most importantly of all, - or at least, it felt like the most important thing to her now, as she held her crying child in her arms - she heard of men and women who felt they were born in the wrong bodies, and who strive to correct it in any way possible.
It was strange... to many, Oz's words would be something to brush aside, feelings that would fade with time or that the young Vessalius would eventually learn to ignore, but... Rachel knew just enough about this sort of thing for it to strike a cord with her... And in truth, part of her had considered this outcome from the first moment her little girl picked up her make-believe sword and proclaimed herself as as the brave knight, Edgar.
But what should she do about this? What should she say? This was not a decision to take lightly, after all. A situation like this was already complicated, but Oz was a member of the Vessalius family, the most well known of the nobility. There were so many things to consider, so many ways in which Oz's life could be ruined...But one look down at the child in her arms, the child she loved with all her heart, and Rachel already knew her answer.
"Oz," she whispered her daughter's name, and with a quiet sniff the little girl peeked up at her mother, green eyes glistening with tears. Rachel smiled her warmest smile, trying to ignore the sting behind her own eyes at the sight of her sweet baby looking so sad, "Sweetheart, did you try to make your hair look like uncle Oscar?"
Oz sniffed once again and nodded lightly, and Rachel couldn't help but chuckle a little - Oz really did love Oscar so much. She ran her hand through what remained of the young girl's hair. It had once fallen to the small of Oz's back, but now it was chopped up unevenly to her shoulders. "Let me see..." she said reaching down and picking up the pair of scissors by her feet. "I don't think I can make it like Uncle Oscar's," she said, and her heart almost burst at the wide-eyed look of hope that suddenly formed on Oz's face, "but..."
Twenty minutes later Rachel was still kneeling before her daughter, who was seated on the sofa at the end of her parents' bed, carefully trimming the bangs before Oz's eyes. The young Vessalius' hair had been cut quite short, 'an attractive cut for a young man' her mother had told her when they used to practice on her brothers. It was a skill she thought she would never use, but now she was so glad she had it... And she really hoped that Oz would like what she had done. Rachel had to admit (and it surprised her to think so, considering how much she adored her daughter's long hair), Oz looked quite lovely with her hair cut short like that. It suited her... Or, rather, it suited...
"There..." she said at last, and Oz, who had been swinging her legs in excitement the whole time, suddenly stilled and almost snatched the hand mirror her mother picked up off the sofa and held before her daughter, "How is that?"
Oz's hands held the frame of the mirror tightly, her mouth having fallen open in shock at the sight of her new haircut. For a moment Rachel wondered if she had made the wrong call, that Oz was going to suddenly cry and realize that she didn't want to cut her hair at all... but instead Oz's hands tightened on the frame and her whole body tensed, and when she lowered the mirror to face her mother Rachel saw her child's beautiful, sunshine smile for what felt like the first time in an eternity. "I love it!" she exclaimed releasing the mirror and leaping into her mother's arms with such force Rachel almost fell over, "Thank you mama!"
The young woman smiled and, once she had placed the mirror safely on the ground beside her, wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her tightly. "You are very welcome, sweetheart," she said, lightly running her hand over the crown her Oz's head.
They stayed like that for a moment, before Oz's voice, so quiet that had her head not been resting on her mother's shoulder Rachel might not have heard, uttered a quiet, "Mama?"
"Yes dear?" Rachel asked.
Oz leaned back a bit, her arms still wrapped around Rachel's neck, and looked into her mother's face. "Can I... Do I still have to wear dresses?"
Rachel smiled and rubbed her hand up and down Oz's back in a comforting motion, "No, dear, you don't have to wear dresses if you don't want to." Oz beamed at these words, the sight of which cast any lingering doubt from her mother's mind. "And don't worry, I'll make sure everyone knows so they won't make you."
"Because I'm a boy," Oz stated with a firm nod, "and boy's don't wear dresses!"
"Yes Sweetheart," Rachel said, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her daughter's... no... her son's forehead. "Because you are my little boy..."
"Are you sure about this?" Oscar asked quietly as he leaned against the door frame to Oz's room, eyes trailing over to his niece as she raced back and forth from behind the changing screen to her bed, trying to decide which of the three outfits her mother had ordered for her to wear for the picnic Rachel had arranged with her uncle. "I mean... I've heard of it but... Isn't she a little young to decide something like this?"
"I don't think so," Rachel says, watching as Oz ran to the full-length mirror in his room to inspect the first outfit he had tried on, grinning and bouncing around before dashing off to try another, "I think Oz has always known, and has always been trying to tell us... We were just slow on the uptake."
Oscar frowned, running his hand through his hair and sighing, "Maybe so, but... if she sticks with this, things are not going to be easy for her. For one, you can forget about her getting married."
"I thought you didn't want anyone taking Oz away?" Rachel commented with an amused smile.
"Rachel..." Oscar groaned.
"Well, it's true," Rachel said with a shrug, "you never wanted anyone to take away your little princess. The only difference now is that he's your little prince." Oscar did not seem to be taking to her attempts at lighten the mood, so with a quiet sign of her own Rachel said, "Oscar... I know... and you're right, there are a lot of things about this situation that could cause problems. I have no idea how Zai is going to react, either... but as far as I am concerned all that really matters is that Oz is happy." She gestured slightly towards her son and asked, "When was the last time you saw Oz smile like that?"
Oscar did indeed look towards Oz, who appeared to have decided the simple brown shorts, white shirt and brown jacket were the best and was currently trying to decide between a black or brown pair of boots, but did not say anything.
"Oz will not have to appear in the eyes of the public until he is fifteen years of age," Rachel continued, "That is plenty of time for to decide if this is what he really wants. I don't think this is a phase, but if he does decide later that he has made a mistake I will accept that as well. For now... I'm just happy to see that smile again..."
Oscar took a deep breath pushed himself away from the door frame with a huff ofeffort, swinging the picnic basket in his left hand distractedly, "Well, I am happy to see Oz smiling again," he said, smiling towards Rachel before spinning on his heel so that he was facing away from Oz's room, holding up the basket and saying, "I'll go set this out under the old oak, hmm?"
"Oscar?" Rachel called lightly just as the man began to walk away. That last statement... sounded positive, but with the way he was now walking away made Rachel a little bit nervous about whether or not Oscar was really on board with all of this. The young man stopped in his place at the sound of her voice and looked back with a curious expression, and Rachel clasped her hands together as she said, "Please remember... that Oz is your nephew now."
Should she say more than that? Should she ask him to be supportive? That this was still Oz, and he shouldn't treat him any different (bar any princess comments, of course)... but before she could say another word Oscar grinned and her and waved a hand dismissively as he resumed walking away down the corridor, saying, "I always thought 'Oz' sounded like a boys name anyway!"
Rachel blinked as she watched the young man's retreating back, stunned into silence for a moment. She was actually surprised by how quickly Oscar had gone from questioning the situation to accepting it...but then, those questions had been out of concern and love for his niece... and that acceptance was out of love for his nephew.
Rachel felt a familiar sting in her eyes as she smiled after the man, grateful for his support and understanding, but quickly held back those joyful tears when she heard Oz's footsteps behind her.
"Eh? Mama, where did uncle go?" Oz asked, looking up and down the hallway curiously.
"Oh, he went ahead to set everything up," Rachel explained, then stepped back and clapped her hands together, "Well then, let me see!"
Oz stared up at her for a moment, then appeared to suddenly remember what he had been doing with a loud 'Oh!'. Grinning, the young boy stepped into the hallway and spun in a circle, arms outstretched to best show off his new clothes. "Does it look okay?" he asked somewhat shyly, his voice a little quiet. Rachel smiled and nodded happily.
"Oh, you look so handsome, Oz!" she exclaimed, and she truly meant it; it was incredible the difference a change of hair and clothes could make... Not only did Oz indeed look very handsome with his near appearance, but he also looked far more comfortable, confident, certain... as if things were finally right with the world for him. The young boy flushed at his mothers comment but almost giggled with joy, trotting up towards her and wrapping his arms around her middle in a tight hug.
"Thank you for the clothes, mama," he said as he nuzzled his face into the fabric of her dress, then tilted his head back so his chin rested on her stomach, smiling brightly up at her, "I love you!"
Rachel settled one arm around her son, while the other came to rest upon his head, a smile on her face and warmth in her heart as she said, "I love you too, Oz."
Yes... there would be many trials her son would have to face. It was not going to be easy, at least not outside of the Vessalius house, but as Oz gazed up at her with that brilliant smile and those beautiful green eyes that she loved so much, Rachel pushed all those worries aside.
Oz was Oz, her little boy, the most precious thing in her world... And as long as he was happy within himself, that was all that really mattered.
The End