Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

"Raven, get your skinny little butt down here."

Sometimes, I really hate my mother. Don't get me wrong. She's a good mother. Serves on the PTA, drives me to soccer practice, or did drive me until the coach asked me not to come back…something about getting a red card in a game for kicking a boy in the crotch. Not that the little prick didn't deserve it. He called me a girl after all.

No, sorry, he said a played like a girl, which in my book is even worse.

"Mom, I've said this before, can't you call me Bran. I like it better."

"Short for Branwen?"

"No, short for Bran. It's a welsh name. It means raven, but it's less weird than being called…"

"Being called Raven? But your name is Raven."

"Only because you named me that. Dad wanted to call me Sarah."

"Sarah's such a plain name. Why don't you like Raven?"

"Seriously, Mom? I have to have a reason?"

"Fine, Bran, get your cute little butt down here."

Grr. I hated being cute more than I hated being called Raven. One of these days, I'd really show her. Staring at my face in the mirror I stuck out my tongue. Nope, more cute. If only…

Wishing never gets you anything.

It was one of my dad's favorite sayings. Well, half of it. More of a poem actually:
Wishing never gets you anything, they'd let you shirk the load. Dreams are just the start of the path and hard work paves the road.

Dad had a million of these, my favorite was: "To bed to bed," says Sleepy-Head. "Wait up," calls Slow. "Put on the pot," cries Greedy-Man, "Let's eat before we go."

Now, I don't know where he got them, but I would love to be able to ask. I can't. A drunk driver made that impossible for me.

Now, the real wish I had in my heart was not to be wearing this 'cute' skirt that mom insisted I wear today. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with the skirt. I just really hated it. I mean really hated it.

Let me put it another way: The skirt made me look like a girl. I wanted a pair of cargo pants, since at least they were sort of unisex. I mean, have you seen girl's jeans recently. It's like they want to give you a wedgie, or at least scream 'I'm female,' at the top of their denim filled lungs.

If I could fit my butt into a pair of guy's jeans, don't think I wouldn't. It would fit in with this carefully crafted guy persona I'm trying to…um…craft.

That was the stupidest sentence I think I've ever written. There are like these unwritten rules that say you're supposed to have variety and stuff…okay, maybe they're written down somewhere. I don't know. School and I don't get along real well. Thankfully most of them think I'm a girl, so I get through without some of the real torment that a lot of the boys get from the bullies.

Let me rephrase that: I just have to deal with the emotional bullying.

Some of it hurts, but when Cindy Cheerleader says, for the eighth time this week, "You dress like a boy," it's the best I can do not to preen a little bit, nod my head, and say, "yep, and your point is?"

I don't say anything because it's kind of nice to get compliments, even when people mean them as insults.

I still get to deal with all this crap, and the people who think I should be in home-ec instead of the metal shop. Let's take a step back for a moment here people. We're living in a new millennium. The '50s are more than fifty years ago. Come on!

Too bad the teacher won't let me craft a sword.

It would only be a mockup anyway. Real swords are forged, not die punched or cut out.

Yeah, but I'm not at school right now. Right now, I want to go to the Renaissance Faire. Mom has been trying to get me to go for a while now. She's really big into the whole dressing up thing. I think she was into theater in college or something.

Jeeze! Did she have to put me into this outfit? I look like a friggin bar maid.

Well, I would if I had any cleavage to talk about, for which I will be forever thankful.

Mom doesn't think so, but I think she has great genetics. She was in a sub A bra until her eighteenth birthday when she got, 'some work done' as she puts it.

She was straight as a rail and flat as a board until then. Sure, I'd love to bulk up a bit in the shoulders, but hell, I'll take what I can get.

She's got curves now, thanks to giving birth to me and her implants, but I'm just as glad that I don't. She keeps threatening me with getting work done. I just shudder when she's not looking.

At least when I'm eighteen and she could legally get me under a knife I will be consenting for myself, or not in this case.

I get an evil idea, so I grab my money and head downstairs.

"I'm ready to go, mom."

"No makeup?"

"Peasants didn't wear makeup, mom."

That's one of the things I hate about my face. It is on the girl side of androgynous right now. If I put any makeup on it…well, there's no androgynous, just girl side at that point.

Finally, we're out the door and driving the three hours to get to the faire grounds.

For some reason, mom doesn't let me drive any more. I've never gotten in an accident, but that doesn't matter to mom. It's the fact that I can squeeze our whale of an SUV into two feet of clearance either side while traveling at over ninety miles an hour.

Let's be honest here for a moment. It's not that I can do so, it's that I have done so…with mom in the car.

So, what would have been, at most, a two hour drive with me behind the wheel is a three hour drive with mom there. I stare out the window doing my best impression of a teenager.

I have a pixy cut hairstyle. I wanted to get a boy's haircut, but mom drew the line at a pixie cut. I go back to get my hair trimmed every week, and it is barely longer than a buzz. Mom can't really say anything about it, as I haven't yet buzzed it, and I haven't gotten it in a more masculine style.

"You know, most girls your age have their ears pierced."

"Mom…"

"I know honey, but could you at least consider it?"

"Mom…" I want to tell my mom who I really am. I've made hints at it in the past. I really try to tell her I'm not a girly girl. What I mean is I'm not a girl. Sure, it's obvious to everyone reading this stream of consciousness.

I don't talk much to my mom. We just don't seem to get along.

We got to the faire and the location just opened up before me. Except for the people walking around in street clothes, it felt almost like a renaissance village. Sure, I knew there would be inaccuracies, since it is a 'for profit' venture, but it was fun anyway.

As soon as my mom was focused on a show being put on, I slipped away to go look at the vendor booths. I was looking for something in particular, and I really hoped I could find it.

Mom required I wear a skirt. I was going to find some more appropriate clothing.

"You know, boys shouldn't wear dresses," said a voice behind me.

"Hence the reason I'm looking for a change of costume," I said as I turned around.

"Oh, sorry," the teen said, blushing.

"For what?" I asked.

"I thought you were a boy. I was wrong. Daniel," he said offering his hand.

"Bran," I say taking it. Just for the fun of it, I apply some pressure. Not a lot, but enough so he knows I have a good handshake. He smirks and applies more.

Oh…it's on. "I do a lot of work with my hands. There's a lot of bending and shaping in metal shop, and I use my dad's old weight set in the garage a lot. No, it's not easy like it would be for a boy of my age, but I've been able to add some muscle. I have a good grip.

Putting a smirk on my face, I slowly begin to build pressure on his hand. I can see the sweat breaking out on his forehead, but he doesn't want to let up. So, I kick in into overdrive and I can feel the bones in his hand begin to flex.

"Enough, enough. Alright already."

"You were right the first time." I say with a smile.

"Wow, you have some grip there, Bran."

"I know. The other guys in metal shop use me as a mobile hand clamp when they need that extra bid of stability."

Daniel colors a bit. I have to think about it for a moment and then it dawns on me what he's thinking. I punch him in the arm. "That's just sick, man,"
He stood there, rubbing his arm, "man, you can hit."

"Thanks, so, you look like you work here; think you can help me find a change of clothes, since 'boys don't wear dresses'?"

He nodded at me, and gesture for me to follow him. "Sorry about the earlier comment. I thought I'd have a little fun at someone's expense. I didn't mean anything by it."

"And think if it were someone like me, only with the opposite problem."

"Come again?"

"A kid born a boy, but knowing deep inside that she was female her entire life. They'd already have to be out here in the public eye. There you'd be, insulting her because of nature's little joke."

"I never really thought about it that way."

"That's because Mother was nice to you."

"I don't understand..."

"Your mind matches your package."

He snorted a bark of laughter which I join in on. As we walked, I began to hear the clash and clang of metal on metal and I began to get a little excited. This was one of the main reasons I'd wanted to come to the faire in the first place. We came around a tent, and there it was, my heart's desire.

There were a couple guys in leather armor swinging at each other with bastard swords...

Alright, so I'm going to use some technical terms here, and I hope you'll bear with me. Let me explain a little bit about the history of the European, or western, sword. It is important to the story, because I get into sword fights. For those who don't care and want to get back to the story, skip to the ---

A western sword is a club with an edge and a point. It is meant to smash at your opponent, originally in heavy metal armor, until he submits. Knives, especially the famous stiletto, were meant to subtly bypass the armor through one of the openings in the joint. A sword was a man's weapon.

They were usually an inch to an inch and a half wide.

There were primarily two types of swords: One handed and two handed. A one handed sword was designed for use with a shield in the other hand. You used it for attack only, as the shield was your defense.

The styles using these types of swords emphasized the striking capabilities of the sword and the striking and blocking capabilities of the shield.

Oh yes, Europeans fought dirty. Nut shots were considered a normal part of the field of battle, if you could get them.

Two handed swords were longer, heavier, and obviously over compensating for some lack of the wielder. They were used for attack and defense in both hands.

That doesn't mean that both hands always remained on the hilt. When you're wearing metal gauntlets you don't have to worry about cutting yourself. Sometimes, you would be smashing the heavy pommel into people's helmets.

A one handed sword has speed and accuracy on its side, as well as the ability to use a shield. A two handed sword has the strength of both arms behind it and is pure, unadulterated power.

Enter the bastard sword. It is so called because it is the bastard offspring of a one handed sword and a two handed sword. Also called a hand and a half sword, it is light enough to be used with one hand, but the hilt is big enough to allow the use of two hands.

In the renaissance, swords made a change, for the worse in my opinion, when men stopped wearing armor. They narrowed down into the half an inch saber, or the long knitting needle of the foil.

They reintroduced 'normal' width blades in the midst of this sword reform. That's what became known as a 'broad' sword. It was nothing more than the inch to an inch and a half like in the medieval period.

There are four types of shields I'll mention: Tower, Kite, target and Buckler.

A tower shield is a tall rectangular shield. It was first used by Romans in the phalanx, or their almost unbreakable formation. It's good for a nice infantry shield wall, but impractical on horseback.

The Kite shield is the biggest shield that is usable from horseback. It is the 'traditional' shield people think of when they think knights. It's also the shield used in coats-of-arms.

A target shield is a round shield. Often these are two and a half to three feet in diameter, although the Spartan shields were bigger.

A buckler is a small round shield strapped to the forearm, usually no larger than a foot in diameter.

---
These weren't actors doing some choreography. This was sweaty, muscle and steel, trying to kill each other intensity.

"Like what you see?" Daniel whispered from behind me.

"Actually, green over there seems to be swinging a little wide. He's putting too much force into his blows. If his opponent were in plate armor, it would make sense. Problem is, with him in leather, he doesn't even need half that force."

"Oh, really. Think you can do better?"

"Get me in a proper pair of trousers, and I'll do my best."

He laughed and led me over to a tent on the side.

"Gregor, this is Bran. He wants to be properly attired."

"Bran, huh. The raven. I like it." I blushed. I'd never had anyone compliment my guy name before and couldn't help it. Damn these female hormones. Give me testosterone any day.

"So, tired of dressing in Drag, huh Bran. I get that. Which team we putting him on?"

"Team?" I say, confused.

"He thinks he can do a better job than Sam, so let's go Woodsmen."

Gregor sized me up and tossed a stack of clothing in forest green at me. "The organizers have a problem with us getting naked in the street, so you can get dressed in the tent. Need any help getting out of your dress?"

"I'll manage," I said with a smirk, "I prefer women anyway."

It was Gregor's turn to blush.

I laughed as I walked to the tent. I shed the dress and dropped it in the corner. In the midst of the clothing I found a bandage. I sighed a 'thank you' and wrapped it around my chest. With that secured I put on the shirt, jerkin and leggings.

I didn't like how smooth I was below, so I rolled up my stockings, yes mom had insisted, and stuffed them down there. It was smaller than I'd have liked, but I could live with it.

I walked out to the waiting Daniel. His gaze got stuck on my crotch.

"See something you like?" I said, throwing his words back at him.

Gregor pounded him on the back and said, "Welcome to my side of the tracks. I knew you'd come around eventually." I just smiled at Gregor. I think I could come to like this guy.

Daniel led me to the practice arena.

"What's this about a team?"

"We're...a competitive organization of a sort."

"Organization?"

"EHA: Enhanced History Association."

"Enhanced...."

"We're a LARP group."

"Ok, now I'm really lost."

"Live Action Role Play. You know. Elves and magic in the forest."

"Wait...you mean like that 'lightning bolt' video?"

Daniel blushed a bit, "something like that...but not exactly. We actually believe in full contact play, which most groups are afraid of. We require people to be at least eighteen, or seventeen with a parent's permission."

"Kinda like the army, huh."

Daniel smirked at this, "Yeah, kinda like."

"Shouldn't be a problem, provided I can convince my mom. Girls participate in this as well?"

"Thought you were a boy."

"Not according to 'mommy dearest'," I say with a smirk.

He laughs at that and responds, "Yes, there are some girls."

"Good, eye candy."

"You have no idea," he says with a knowing glint in his eye.

We get to the arena and Daniel calls out, "Sam, we have fresh meat who thinks they can do better than you."

He looks over at me, sizes me up and down, and then sighs, "The shrimp is welcome to try. I need a break anyway."

Our local Y used to offer fencing classes. I took them until they started to feel a little tame to me. I tried kendo, but had the same problem. They were for show or 'competition'. There was none of the visceral feel I wanted.

So, I took to watching a lot of training videos, and practicing in my off time in the garage, when I wasn't just working out.

"Take it easy on the new guy," I said as I walked over to take the sword from Sam. The first thing I noticed was it was a lot lighter than I'd expected. I was used to practicing with a metal bar about three feet in length. This was a little longer, but not even in the same realm of weight.

The balance was different as well. It seemed to be turning closer to the hilt than the middle. I took a couple of practice swings, and watched my opponent surreptitiously.

He was looking at my butt. What is it with these guys?

I turned my latest test swing into a slash at his head. It wasn't a wild slash by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a bit wide, intentionally.

He brought his sword up quickly, a bit too quickly. I brought my off hand to the hilt and used it to pull the swing down. At the last second I flipped the sword sideways and the flat of the blade slammed into his ribs.

"Oh, by the way, are these swords sharpened?"

My opponent was cradling his ribs a bit. I might have hit him a little hard.

"Get her some armor," my opponent called out to the sidelines.

"I'm a boy, you twit."

"Sure you are, and I'm..."

I didn't allow him to finish the statement. I swung at him again. He brought his sword up a little slower and allowed my blade to crash into his. He had a one handed grip on it, so I locked guards with him. He smiled at me as he slowly began to push my blade away. I shifted my hips and punched him.

"That's not fair," Sam yelled from the sidelines.

My opponent rubbed his jaw, "Not bad," he said.

"For a girl," I sneered.

"For anyone. You right handed?"

I nodded.

"Then I don't want to be hit by that one."

"Get this guy some armor," he called out again. "Aragorn," he said saluting me with his sword.

"Bran," I said, doing the same.

They got some armor for me, and put it on. While they were outfitting me, 'Aragorn' talked.

"First, a few rules: No attacking the head or neck. No attacking the groin. All other areas are allowable. The blades are blunted, but at the speed you're swinging I'd appreciate the flat to the edge, if you can keep pulling it."

I blushed a bit, and he continued, "Punches in allowable areas are acceptable, although I think you're the first person I know of who actually mixed sword and fist."

"Actually..."

"I meant in our group, sorry. Go again?"

I smiled and attacked. This wasn't a showy clashing of blades. I like to think I was brutal, but Aragorn was nothing if he didn't do the same. The armor was padded, a little, but that didn't stop me from feeling the few glancing blows that he got through.

My blows that hit weren't glancing.

Yes, there were problems with my style. That happens when you're teaching yourself. The thing is I think I had a better killer instinct than Aragorn did. This was a game for him. It was deadly serious to me.

Swords were meant to kill people. That was their intent. This was just practice for that.

Halfway through our sparring session, I was outfitted with a pair of tight leather gloves. No, not to protect Aragorn. I'd split a couple of my knuckles by that point, so they were to protect me.

"Ok, I've had enough. Sam, you want back in with your team-mate here?"

"Oh no, that guy's insane," Sam said with a smile and Daniel laughed.

"So, what's up with this team's thing?"

"Well, we're taking part in the joust later today. A four way skirmish with the SCA pukes. They claimed that none of us really know how to fight."

"A four way skirmish...how does that prove..."

"Well, the skirmish is usually a 4 team affair. They gave us two of them this time."

"Ok...how do we determine we're taken out?"

"Painted edges."

"You said..."

"Only when sparring with me, Bran," Aragorn said with a guffaw of laughter.

"What's your real name?"

"I'll tell you as soon as you tell me yours."

"Fine," I looked around a bit and then said, "Raven."

"You're kidding me."

I walked over to where I'd left my pile of clothing and retrieved my license. I showed it to him.

"Well, a deal's I deal, I guess. My name's Franklin."

"Not Frank?"

He shuddered. "God no."

I laughed.

"You're kind of cute in this picture."

Mom had insisted I get my makeup and hair done professionally before I got my license. I hated the picture. I snatched it out of his hand.

"You're not my type."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you're not a redhead with a great rack."

The audience snorted and snickered.

"Well, you're not my type either. I like girls."

I couldn't help it. I smiled. This guy was really kinda cool.

"Although, if you looked like this picture..."

And then again...I punched him.

"No one will ever accuse you of hitting like a girl."

We all laughed for a minute or two.

"Seriously, though, we need your mom to sign your waiver, since you can't."

"You want me..."

"To take part in the Grande Melee, yes."

I picked up my dress and purse...yuck...

"Here," Daniel said as we began to walk. It was a small pouch. "Tie it to your belt."

I did, and realized it was just big enough to hold the essentials from my purse: a tampon, my money, and my ID.

The other guys looked at me weird when I put the tampon in there.

"Want to make something of it?" I said with a scowl.

They all shook their heads and I smiled, "Good answer."

It was kind of cool walking around with the EHA group. We bowed to the people as we walked past. Aragorn was wearing his sword. Sam was wearing the one I'd borrowed from him. Even Daniel was wearing a sword.

Oh well. Maybe after I got my mom to sign the waiver.

There were some cheers as we went past from some of the vendors. Aragorn waved at them.

"Are the SCA folks the bad guys in this?"

"In a manner of speaking," Daniel replied, "They're the aggressor. We're protecting the interests of the common folk."

"Speak for yourself, King's man," Sam said.

For the first time I noticed that Daniel was in the same reddish brown as Aragorn. "So, we're woodmen, I think I heard Gregor say."

Sam scowled, "If the silly faire would let me wear my ears..."

"It wasn't the faire, Sam. You know it was the SCA. They felt it detracted from the melee."

"We're elves," Sam said.

"Elves..."

"We're the People of the Greenwood; sworn enemies of humanity. The King's men have been encroaching on our lands for generations and we're fighting back."

"This is that role-play thing?"

"Doesn't he know anything?"

"He knows how to fight, and he looks more elfin that you do," Daniel said with a grin.

I laughed and Sam just scowled.

"Ok, EHA has three primary races in it. There are Elves, Faeries and Humans."

"Fairies? Like little figures with wings?"

Daniel laughed, "No, the people of Fae. F, A, E."

"Ok, so more Oberon and less butterflies."

"I like this gi...I mean guy. I like this guy."

"I thought that Fae encompassed the elves..."

That little comment started a long argument between Daniel and Sam about that very subject. The gist of it was the Elves in the EHA world were natural beings, and the Fae were beings of magic. It took them a half hour to get to that point. The entire time we continued to look for my Mom.

"Raven?"

"Hi mom," I said turning around. I handed her my dress. "Could you take that to the car?"

Her mouth was open as she took me in.

"Bran wants for you to sign a waiver so he can participate in the Grande Melee."

"Bran..?"

"Mom, will you sign my waiver for me?"

"I think we need to have a talk first young...man."

She took me to the side and looked me up and down. "So, you're a boy, are you?"

"It's not just a costume, mom. I've tried to tell you so many times. I really don't think I'm a girl. I've tried to be, but I like to get my hands dirty. I like to build and destroy. I like to be loud, and brash, and forceful."

"Women can be..."

"I don't feel like a woman, mom. I hate my breasts."

"Honey..."

"I'm not a girl, okay."

"You don't have to wear makeup if you don't want to."

"This isn't about makeup, mom. This is about who the world sees me as."

"But, can't you..."

"You know the real reason I wanted to come here? I thought they might have a blacksmith for some reason. That is more than an actor would do. I want to learn to forge my own swords."

"You want...to be a blacksmith?"

"Yes, mom. I want to be a blacksmith, and not in a Knight's Tale female blacksmith sort of way."

"Is there money in that?"

"I don't know, but there would have to be. Have you seen the prices that authentic weapons and armor go for online?"

"No..."

"A lot. I've seen full, custom made suits of armor for more than three thousand."

"But I'm sure..."

"These were mass produced reproductions."

"We'll talk about you becoming a professional blacksmith later. A boy, huh."

I just nodded.

"That explains the red card." she said. I looked away. She'd heard what the kid said to me, and was really upset about my 'over reaction' as she saw it.

We walked back over to the guys.

"What is this Grande Melee?"

"It's pounding on each other with swords," I said blithely.

"In its most basic for, yes, that is what it is," Aragorn said.

My mom really looked at Aragorn for the first time. Something in her eye made me was to re-examine him. He wasn't too old, maybe mid thirties. I knew from personal experience he was strong. But, mom wasn't seeing him how I did.

Sure, he was handsome, I guess, but was that any reason for mom to look at him like he was a drop of water in the desert and she was dying of thirst?

"This isn't safe no matter what we say. There are rules, and a few precautions, but there are injuries every year, which is the reason you have to be at least seventeen and sign a waiver. You'd have to sign for Bran if he is going to participate."

Mom nodded at what he said and then tore her eyes away to look at me, "You sure you want to do this, sweetie."

"Hell, yes." I said with a feral grin.

"Honey, language."

"Sorry, mom."

"Fine, if you think she...he is good enough to be in this..."

"Your son is better at this than I am," Aragorn said.

"No, I'm just..."

"Bran, stow the false modesty. You kicked my but soundly, and if we'd been using real blades I'd be dead. You might be injured, but I wouldn't be breathing."

I blushed and mom looked at me with an appraising look.

"Well, if my son's that good then I want to see him in action," there was a double meaning to her words that I couldn't fail to miss. She wanted to see what having me as a son would be like. It felt like the bottom fell out of my stomach for a moment. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

"Ok, mom," and then I began to grin.

We walked back to the tent and mom signed the necessary paper work, which Gregor notarized. They really wanted to do everything right. I noticed that there was a place on the form for my real name as well as my game name. Well, it wasn't a legal document, but I'd just changed my name for real with these guys.

They outfitted me with a sword belt, sword and sheath.

"You want a shield?"

"He can't punch someone if he has a shield."

"I could go for a buckler."

"I'll keep that in mind, for right now we don't have any, and I don't have the materials to make one."

By this point it was getting closer to the time when they'd have the Grande Melee, so mom headed toward the stands, and I went with the others to the staging area.

"Who's this," a grey haired man said. He was skinnier than I was, taller too. His ears were slightly pointed.

"My Lord Adrondel, this is Bran. He has come to join us in our fight this day."

"Well met, Bran. Can you use that sword at your hip?"

"So it has been said," I say, trying to get into the character of the speech.

"But what say you?"

"Let me be proved in battle."

"You vouch for him, Eolmir?" Adrondel asked Sam.

"I do, Lord."

"Then let him prepare himself."

I looked around and noticed there were a couple of girl with us in the ranks. They wore short skirts over their leggings. I'd wondered why the Lord had treated me as a man, now I knew. His ears weren't prosthetics. He took this 'way' too seriously in my opinion. And he treated me as my costume required.

We exchanged our blunted swords for swords with a foam rubber edge. I pressed the edge and green paint seemed to well out of the seeming cut on my finger. I wiped it off on a rag and went and got ready for the charge.

This would be fun, I thought as I waited for the horn to sound.

When it did, chaos ensued. Red and green had been facing each other. Blue and yellow were at our right and left.

We clashed in the middle and swords started flying. We'd planned on holding formation and working as a team. I did my best to wait for people to make their way to me. I was stuck in the middle of the line with Sam...Eolmir I mean and Adrondel.

Eventually, as our line lost people and it began to curl around the back, I begin to face off against people. None of them were in red. I'm not saying that none of the King's men attacked the People of the greenwood. No, they were avoiding me, actively. Apparently Aragorn had let people know that I was a force to be reckoned with. One of the King's men saw he was about to face me and backed up...right into one of the yellow's sword. I began to grin at the thought.

Then, the last man to my right was gone. I turned my back to Lord Adrondel and faced a seeming sea of yellow.

There isn't any point trying to relate the exact things I did, the moves I made, the counters I almost missed.

One by one I whittled down my opponents. At some point Eolmir and Adrondel joined me.

Most of our opponents were pitiful, especially since they were trying to overwhelm us with numbers.

We ended up back to back again, but there were fewer for me to deal with at that point. There were only three in front of me when I took a blow hard enough to leave paint on my armor.

"Shit," I said and fell out of formation.

Eolmir and Adrondel had taken out their portions, and quickly dispatched the three I'd been facing.

A cheer went up from the stands.

"People of the Greenwood have taken the field." Called out an announcer I'd been unable to hear from the staging area.

"Come, victors, and accept your spoils."

We walked forward, and I got a number of slaps on the back.

"You fight like hell itself."

"Next time I'm facing you, I'm running the other way," another said holding his ribs.

There were more comments made, some of them unflattering, but overall they made me feel accepted, and they didn't once treat me like a girl.

Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

I got in the shower, for once satisfied with the way my body looked. Would I have liked to have more muscle mass? Sure, but the bruises that covered a good portion of me were just awesome.

Those marks on my skin made me feel alive.

I scrubbed them, relishing in the ache. No scents, no perfumes, nothing in my soaps and shampoo. I didn't want to smell girly.

I scrubbed myself dry. It let me rough up my skin again, even if it did feel like sand paper.

Mom was waiting for me downstairs, but I wasn't in any rush. I dressed in a pair of pants. I looked at my chest in the mirror.

I'd liked how I looked in the tunic, so I went back into the bathroom and grabbed an athletic bandage. I tied my small buds down and went back to my room. I had a unisex tee-shirt in my closet and put it on.

There was enough trepidation in me to go to the top of the stairs and stop. I took a deep breath, and tromped downstairs.

"So, Bran…a boy?"

"Yes, Mom."

"How do you know?"

"How do you know you're a girl?"

"I am a girl," mom said with a smile.

"How do you know?"

"I have breasts and a…"

"And if you didn't, how would you know?"

"You're too young to make this sort of decision. I've seen the sort of changes those hormones will do to your body."

"Huh?"

"I looked it up, Raven."

"Bran."

"Your name is Raven."

"Mom, if we visit a therapist, together, and he agrees with me, will you start calling me Bran? Will you listen to me on this one?"

"If you do this, you'll never have children."

I couldn't help it. I shuddered and dry heaved. I tried to sit up…and I dry heaved again.

"Having a period is bad enough, and you want me to do…that? There are only two ways I know of to get pregnant, mom, and one of them means allowing some other guy to stick his d…penis inside me. Not going to happen."

"Sure, artificial insemination is an option for that…but still. No. It is wrong on so many levels."

"It's normal, Raven."

"Not for me. Can't you get that?"

"Fine, I'll find you a therapist, but I'm going to find you a female one."

"I don't want to talk to a woman about being a guy."

"Well, we don't always get what we want, Raven. That's part of being an adult, and it's about time you realized it. Some day you'll thank me for this."

"Not likely," I muttered as I went out to the garage.

I stood in front of my training dummy, thinking about the Grande Melee yesterday. That last guy…

I imagined how he came at me, and tried to form a response that didn't leave me with a yellow mark on my armor over my heart. To say it was hard was an understatement.

---
Technical jargon time.
Ok, so it's not really technical. It just delves into areas that are more history weapons geek than most people want to see in a nice pseudo fantasy drama story. I get that. Skip to the end. I use the same markings as last time.

There has been an argument among sword wielders for centuries over which a sword is meant for: thrusting or slashing.

There have been some wonderful examples of each. Some swords, like the katana and all its variants, which were not meant for stabbing, but could be used so in a pinch. Some, like cavalry sabers, were meant to only slash at an opponent. The epee, foil, and other such early renaissance weapons were crafted without an edge. Fencing, the sport that grew out of those swords, is a point only sport. Watch it sometime if you don't believe me.

Now, the bastard sword I was using has a point. The problem is that you really use all its power when you thrust with it, even if you use both hands. That's the reason that I've always favored an edge style over a point style: more power.

Yesterday, I lost because I always imagined my opponents doing the same. All my blocks, parries, riposte and otherwise were practiced with that in mind. My failure to adapt was what got me killed.

Sure, I'd lasted right to the very end of the Grande Melee, and my soaking up opponents probably helped Eolmir and Adrondel to win. Adrondel is really good, and while Sam seemed to be struggling with a single opponent, he was a lot better against two or three. I guess it really depends on what you've spent your time practicing on.

If I'd thought about an opponent thrusting at me, I might have some way to protect against it, but that wasn't the real problem. Like most talented beginners, I fell into the trap of assuming I was better than I actually was. In a duel situation, I'd likely win every time, as I was the aggressor, and I set the pace of the fight. If they're not able to set up their moves, then they don't happen.

In a battle, like the one we experience, I was at a disadvantage when we were outnumbered. I had to let my opponents come to me, so while I picked the ground of our battle, they got the first strike…

But my practice only let me be the aggressor since a dummy can't fight back.
---
I affixed a small locking weight to the end of the rod I normally used for practice with some duck tape to change the balance to be closer to what I'd experienced yesterday and I began imagining how I would deflect a thrust away from my body.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
Mom had signed the waiver, so I could participate in the first weekend event for EHA. They'd let me keep the clothing I'd worn, including the armor.

Well, let me keep is a little misleading. I'd purchased the clothing I wore. The sword was a bit outside the range of what I'd brought with me, and I'd apparently have to purchase two, so I grabbed my cash and other essentials and put them into my belt pouch.

My other new purchase was sitting on my dresser. I applied the glue to the inside edge and then pressed it into place. When I was sure of the fit, I took the other one and repeated the process.

They felt weird, gently swinging there. I turned my head left and right a little to get a better view: I now had elf ears.

And you, my audience, need to get your minds out of the gutter.

Mom was letting me drive. No, not the SUV, mores the pity, but the small sub-compact that generally hid in the garage so the bigger, better looking, cars couldn't see it.

It was rusting in a couple of spots, but at least it worked.

I tossed my backpack into the back seat and pulled out of the driveway. I did my best not to piss the other drivers off. For some reason, call it fear of being driven over, I drove differently behind the wheel of this car than I did when I drove the SUV. I was confident and capable driving the SUV. I was timid and careful in this little rust bucket.

I got onto the freeway and drove up into the mountains. The directions I'd gotten from Google maps were pretty specific, and they were easy to follow.

The trees were green. Not like your normal green color, but a serious, in your face, I am Life sort of green. I'm sure that they'd been this green before, but I don't think I ever really looked at them before.

You know how it is; something happens to you, and suddenly you're looking at the world through entirely new eyes.

This was the sort of thing that I was going through now.

Mom was a girly girl. Before you consider it, this wasn't just me pushing against mom and deciding I was a boy out of an act of rebellion. I know I could just be a tomboy. That's just not enough for me.

So, I'd wanted to go camping in the past, and the closest I ever got was a tent in the living room made out of bed sheets.

I'd tried girl scouts...but I never really fit in with them for some reason. Go figure.

So, here I would be actually camping in the woods for the weekend. That made the forest around me look so different, and so much more inviting. My smile just refused to go away.

The entry area was a mess of people greeting each other. I only actually knew five people. I recognized more than that. Some of them were King's men I'd faced off against. Some of them were my fellow People of the Greenwood.

That's when a fireball erupted off to the right. It wasn't big, maybe a foot or two, but it was a fireball. The person who threw it was wearing some of the most elaborate makeup I'd ever seen.

It had a stage quality to it, mostly in silvers and blues, but it was a guy who was wearing it. As I watched, he made a throwing gesture and another fireball flew from his hand.

"Impressive, isn't it, Bran?"

"Hey, Eolmir. Who or what is that?"

"Faerie. They use magic in combat."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not really. Been singed a couple of times, but they're professionals. Stunt men and women, most of them, who want to have a little fun. One guy only uses a burning hands 'spell'. Scares the crap out of you the first time he does it, let me tell you. It was at night my first time, and all I saw were these disembodied flaming hands coming for me."

"Really?" I was smiling. This was more than I'd ever expected coming out here.

---
Yes, a side talk for a moment, this time about LARP.

I'd done some research before I went out the first weekend to the EHA event. No, I wasn't able to find anything about EHA, which reason becomes evident later in the story. I was able to find a lot about LARP including a number of videos. In general, LARP uses foam weapons and balls of birdseed to simulate attacks.

You can't physically touch anyone. You can't punch. The bags of birdseed are 'magic'. Mostly, it's a lot of calling out what your attacks are.

Don't get me wrong. If that had been what it would be, I had no problems with it. I was never a person to lack imagination.
---

Eolmir and I went through the check in desk. I paid my fee by check. My mom had agreed to pay for the entire session. That means that I wouldn't have to worry about paying my fee for the next six months.

The good thing about the fee was it covered meals and other sundry items. The bad thing was that it cost a pretty penny. If I wanted to keep doing this, I'd have to find a job just to pay for my fee, not to mention the other items I'd need to participate like costumes and so on.

I was through the tables with various cards I would need clipped to my belt. Eolmir soon joined me with a similar clip of cards.

I followed him into the woods, and everything seemed to change for me. Eolmir was no longer just walking through the forest. He had a hand on his sword to keep it out of the brush and he was stalking. I did my best to emulate his movements, but I felt like a bull in a china shop. I'm sure I sounded like one.

Eolmir, on the other hand, had practice with this. I couldn't hear a single one of his steps.

A couple of female elves stepped out from behind a tree and pointed arrows at us. My breath caught in my chest. The one on the right was hot. Sure, her hair was dyed red, but it was still red hair. She had curves that would have been visible from space, and the outfit she was wearing hugged them like a lover's caress.

I think my mouth hung open.

"Bran, it's rude to stare." Eolmir said.

"Sorry, it's just that never have I seen a maiden as fair as that. I felt it necessary to worship as she must needs be a goddess."

The girl blushed and her bow dropped 'til it pointed at the ground. Her companion glared at me.

"Would you mind not hitting on my girlfriend," said the brunette, who now had her arrow pointed at my crotch."

"Your...I'm so sorry. I guess all the really pretty ones are taken," I said looking her right in the eye. Then I winked.

I had no idea what had come over me. I was never this forward anywhere else. I felt empowered, and it was really something for me. I knew these two women were in a relationship, but that didn't change anything. I loved to flirt, apparently.

"Better be careful with this one, Eolmir, it would seem he could get a river to change its bed just by applying his silver tongue."

"Talking is not the only action to which my tongue is adapted."

The redhead giggled a bit and the brunette blushed again.

"Girls, before we let this get too much further, Bran is seventeen."

"Damn," said the redhead. "He almost made me consider..." then she looked embarrassed and looked at her girlfriend.

"I thought I was the only one. Wow. You're dangerous little man."

"I'm in transition, actually."

"Do you really want..."Eolmir began

"Better than someone finding out later and getting bend out of shape. I was born female. I'm becoming male."

The redhead began to laugh a bit and her girlfriend joined in with her a moment or two later.

"My real name is Kevin," said the redhead in a deeper male voice and I just stared at her. "I just play a woman at these events."

"No way..." I said, unable to match what my eyes saw with what she...he...whatever was telling me.

"You make a very convincing male elf, though, Bran. I would never have guessed," she said, going back into her higher and much more feminine voice.

"Yes, we have some genetic males here who have a very similar look."

I smiled at the two, realizing that they accepted me for who I was. Of course, could I really expect any less from a beautiful transvestite and her girlfriend?

They went back into character at that point, bringing their arrows to bear upon us.

"Who have you brought with you today, Eolmir?"

"Just a new recruit, Alundra. I found him wandering lost in the woods and figured, as he was an elf and not a man, that he would be a great supporter to our cause."

"If he'd been a man, we'd have had to kill him," Red said.

"I'd already have taken care of that, Gwendara."

"Pass. Lord Adrondel has been asking for you." Alundra said.

We walked past the two elven maidens. I kept expecting the camp to come into view. It never did. The problem was I was looking at the ground, and not up into the trees.

Forty or fifty feet may not seem like a lot when laid out on the ground. Straight up, it means something.

We got to the rope ladder and I looked up. I'd expected to be camping, but this was something else entirely. There were walkways and platforms suspended from the trees. None of them were redwoods, so it never got above about twenty feet above the ground, well at least the bases of the platforms didn't, but it was something to see. It was a tree city, and it was awesome.

The ropes and chains were well oiled, so there was only a slight creaking noise as I moved across the entry bridge. I'd mistaken it for the sound of the trees of the forest while we'd been walking.

It was strange, but the other elves didn't talk much. We greeted each other with gestures. Some of what they were doing reminded me of ASL. It seemed I had a lot to learn before I was truly ready to take my place among them.

I felt mute as we walked in silence to the largest of the platforms I could see. Eolmir pulled open a door with a rubberized seal and I entered. He closed the door behind us.

"Finally you arrive, Eolmir, and I see you've brought our new recruit."

"I have, Lord Adrondel."

"Her majesty is waiting for us." Eolmir took his place at Adrondel's left, and they gestured for me to stand at his right. When we were arranged properly, we walked into the next room.

An older woman sat in a throne of wood that was a work of art only surpassed in beauty by her clothing. Her diaphanous gown seemed to float in the slightest breeze.

"Who have you brought before me today, Adrondel?"

"Your majesty, I bring Eolmir and Bran, comrades in arms who assisted us in the battle recently passed."

"I hear tell that Bran fell in that battle."

"He did, your majesty, but not before he assured our victory."

"He is truly so skilled?"

"More he is talented than skilled, your majesty. He is rough around the edges, but nothing a little polish won't help."

The woman on the throne smirked a little bit.

"Step forward, Bran, so I can take a look at you."

I stepped forward, making sure not to get my sword tangled in my legs.

"I'll take a moment to step out of character and welcome you to EHA. I take it you want to be an elf?"

"I sort of fell into being an elf accidentally."

"Would you prefer to be a man?"

"I don't know. I like the idea of elves, and I seem to fit the aesthetic a bit better here than I would there. I'm...fine featured."

"Yes, I can see that." she said with a smile. "Where are my manners? My name is Laura, but here I am Talliandrenna, Queen of the elves."

"Your names all seem to be...long and flowing. Will Bran really fit in here?"

"It does seem a little short."

"I picked it because it is a masculine form of my name."

"You're a girl?" Laura said a little surprised.

"No, but I was born one."

"Oh. Just here or..."

"Trying to be everywhere."

"Well, that's good to know. I'll have to bunk you with some other girls, if you don't mind."

I made a face, "I'd be uncomfortable with that. I'm sort of attracted to women."

"You really do make things difficult." She tapped her lower lip for a moment, and then sighed.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to bunk with Gregor."

"That doesn't sound like an elvish name," I said with a smile.

"Gregor is...Gregor. You'll see when you actually see him."

"I met him at the Faire."

"You've never met him in costume, then. The faire doesn't allow ogres."

"Ogres? I thought...."

"No, there are a couple of other races wandering about here. The three factions are human, elf and faerie."

"So, is he far?"

"No. He's in the forge at the other end of Kelethin...the city we're in."

"Forge...he's a blacksmith?"

"Yes. He's the elven blacksmith. No better blacksmith than an Ogre in my opinion. The humans swear by their dwarf, but, well, he's not Gregor."

"Ok, we're going back in character now, so step back?"

"Yes, my Queen," I said with a smile.

She gave some direction to the two with me and then dismissed us from her presence.

We walked across the town and then climbed down into a palisaded area on the ground that had been invisible from the place we entered.

The smell of smoke filled the little depression where the forge was located. As we neared the entrance, the heat washed over us.

"Hail, Bran, and well met." He was green. I don't mean he looked sick, I mean he was green, as in painted. His nose was large a bulbous. He looked, well, like an ogre.

"Hi, Gregor. Apparently I'll be rooming with you."

"Um..." he began.

"Look, I doubt my naked body would do anything for you, and her majesty wanted to put me with the women."

"What's wrong with that?" he asked.

"Would you be comfortable rooming with the men?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then said, "Good point."

Eolmir laughed from the doorway, "Well, I'll let you get settled in, Bran. I'll be back later so we can go on patrol."

"Patrol?"

"We have to protect our lands somehow. It'll only last a few hours. Maybe we'll even see some action. We did last time. They thought we'd still be settling in on the first night."

I waved as Eolmir left, and then turned back to Gregor.

"Gregor the ogre, huh?"

"My human captors gave me this name. I don't remember my real one. I keep this name to remind me of my hatred."

"Okay..."

"My character's story, Bran. You need to think of one for yourself. This is more than just fun and games," he said with a smile. "Most of the people here do this stuff for a living, and they want to have this place to unwind."

"Um...do what for their job?"

"A lot of the people you'll meet here are professionals of one sort or another: Actors, choreographers, swordsmen and women. We have a couple of Olympic archers and an archery coach or two. There are stage magicians and stuntmen amongst the Pixies. Professional horse trainers..."

"There are horses out here?"

"Mostly among the humans. After a serious injury we had last year, though, they don't allow anyone to ride into combat. Then, there are the people like me, who are here because this, out here, is our job."

"Your job?"

"I'm a blacksmith."

"I know..."

"No, I'm a real blacksmith." He let that sink in for a bit.

"So, the entry fee..."

"No, that just pays for the cooks and other management people. The cost of the armor and weapons and clothing is the pay for the other craftsmen like me."

"Can I be your apprentice?"

He looked at me strangely for a moment or two and then began laughing.

"You're serious, aren't you? You realize it's going to be hard work, right? There's nothing glamorous to being a blacksmith."

"I know. I just want to be a blacksmith."

"You know how strange this all sounds, and you here your first weekend as well?"

"Yeah, I know. I just love swords. I want to learn how to forge them."

"You do realize that most of my work is stuff like buckles and hinges and such?"

I nodded, but there was obvious disappointment on my face.

"It's not as bad as all that, Bran. Trust me. Sometimes I love forging the little things more than swords and shields."

"Why's that?" I said, obviously intrigued.

"Because they take more artistry. Sure, a sword looks good, and it's the peak of my art, but mostly it's just pounding and grinding."

"But it's a sword..."

"Which is only useful for killing people, really. A buckle or a hinge could save someone's life."

"So could a shield," I said, warming to the argument.

"True, but you get more use out of the buckle."

"Well, how do you create a buckle then?"

He laughed and put me to work.

Blacksmith work isn't glamorous. It's hot sweaty labor. Now that he had an apprentice, he used me for all the scut work. Carrying the wood, pumping the bellows, holding the pig while he pounded it, pumping the bellows, and so on.

By the time that Eolmir came back, I was ready for a break.

"So, he's got you helping in the forge, huh?"

"I volunteered. I've always wanted to learn how to become a blacksmith."

"Well, if he formalizes your arrangement, then you may want to talk to admin."

"Why?"

"They will give you a partial or full refund."

That left me with something to think about as we slipped off into the forest. I was still louder than Eolmir, but with continued effort, I decided I was getting a bit quieter.

"What are you in real life?"

He made a sign for me to be quiet and motioned for me to stay still. He slipped around the tree we were standing behind, and I looked cautiously around it.

I could hear the humans tramping through the forest. Where Eolmir creaked occasionally with his leather armor, this was a constant clank for metal plates and the stomping of shod feet.

I slipped out to follow Eolmir as quietly as I could. I dropped down beside him when he went to the ground. They slowly came into view. Even in the darkness, I was able to pick out the shine of their armor.

Well, that was definitely a down side to wearing plate armor. You can't be stealthy in it. I grinned over at Eolmir. These humans were about to learn the meaning of shock and awe.

He stood me behind the nearest tree and then slipped twenty yards to another tree and we waited. It was a bit nerve wracking when they began to pass by us. I barely breathed as I stood there in the shadow of the tree watching Eolmir for his signal. As soon as they'd passed us Eolmir looked quickly the way they came to make sure this wasn't just the vanguard and the gestured me forward.

I slipped my sword as quietly as I could from its sheath, which was quieter than the closest person to me was moving, and advanced.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" Eolmir called as he attacked. I just went to work.

With the numbers of them we were facing, I needed to take out as many as I could before they took me out. I attacked arms and legs. If they couldn't use their limbs, then even if they weren't dead, they wouldn't be pushing the attack.

There was confusion in the human ranks. They could barely see me, but I could see them as if they were lit up. It was a heady feeling, this power that Eolmir and I held. They began to attack, but most of their strikes took out their companions, and didn't even come close to me.

I began to laugh this deep throated laugh of triumph. "The Raven shall feast well tonight!" I crowed as I took out yet another of my foes.

"Bran? That means...Eolmir..." I heard a familiar voice call from the midst of the humans. "Yield, I yield."

First in ones and twos but quickly gaining momentum our opponents dropped to a knee and just like that our battle was over.

"Over here, Bran."

I walked over to where the voice was coming from. "Daniel?"

"That's Lord Captain Daniel, elf," growled a voice from next to us.

"Stow it, Craig. Looks like we were bested." Daniel said. Something about this didn't feel right. There were only twenty men in this group. I'd seen about a hundred elves, I think, while wandering about Kelethin.

"Eolmir..?"

"I know. Run."

We took off, leaving our downed foe behind us. Gone was any pretence at stealth. As we got closer to the city, the sounds of fighting could be plainly heard.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" yelled Eolmir.

"The Raven will be your deaths!" I called. We charged into the battle from behind.

The elves were firing arrows down from their walkways. The blunted tips would prevent serious injury, but they wouldn't be any fun to be hit with. There were a couple of other elves on the ground with us, keeping the humans from ascending the ladders, but we were outnumbered.

"Form Square on me!" I called when I reached the first ladder.

The call went out as people understood what I meant.
---
This really isn't necessary for the story, but I like to be accurate. Infantry tactics have changed a lot over the years. One of the things that has been lost, but still exists in most military organizations, is drill. Drill existed for the purpose of maneuvering soldiers into positions they could be used. The most common formations were Line and Square.

There were others that had their reasons as well, like Wheel Left and Wheel Right, but for now, we'll stick with the one I'm using.

Forming Square is taking a normal line and turning it into a hollow square, usually with someone, or something, you need to protect in the center. A square formation prevents the enemy from flanking you because you no longer have flanks. The flanks were either end of a line formation.

So, what I was calling for was for us to form ranks around the ladders, making it so we could support each other and make a defendable position out of bad terrain.
---

I soon found myself shoulder to shoulder with eight other elves. I could feel the ladder swaying into my back periodically. No one had explained to me the goals of the game, yet, but I figured that humans getting into Kelethin would be a 'bad thing'. Arrows still rained down all around us, but with all the elves now formed around the ladders, our compatriots in the trees had clearer fields of fire amongst our enemies.

"Healer! They have a healer!"

That was new, but then I noticed a blue glow occasionally shine from the back.

Arrows began to rain down into the location where the glow had been coming from, and the area remained dark.

I saw a glimpse of silver, this time not on armor, but on a face. I recognized that face.

"Faerie! There's a Faerie amongst the humans!"

A fireball flared around one of the ladders and all of our defenders collapsed to the ground.

"Kill the Fae!" I roared.

That's when the horses rolled up. Humans ran to the wagons and began grabbing tower shields.

This battle was going very poorly. I realized too late that what I'd assumed was a good defensive position had become a trap. The eight of us were ringed in by the humans and they stood just out of sword range.

A gap opened. Something in me told me exactly what was happening, so I charged. The Fae had a moment to look surprised before my blade took him in the side. He crumpled to the ground even as I began to block a flurry of attacks from the sides.

"Take to the trees," I called to the other elves who had been with me even as I was felled but six strikes at once.

That hurt. A lot.

I sat down, hard, breathing heavily and trying to catch my breath. I was covered in sweat, beginning to freeze in the cooling night air, and I simply couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

For a moment there, while in the heat of the battle, I'd been able to slip into the role. It had been a real battle for me.

"Hey newbie. Dead folks need to clear the battlefield."

Blushing I stumbled over to where the human, Fae, and elven dead were gathered. It was a silent, though smiling, group that I joined. A slightly singed Eolmir slapped me on the back and I gave him a thumbs up.

"This is intense," I said with a big grin.

He just nodded and went back to watching the battle. It wasn't quite as fun as it had been to participate, but it wasn't completely terrible either.

"So, worth the entrance fee?" Aragorn said from behind me.

"Totally," I said. There were general chuckles, and a couple giggles, from around me.

I watched the rest of the battle from the sidelines, but it was totally still worth it. There's nothing like a real battle, and it's the highest form of entertainment I know...as long as no one is getting killed, of course.

Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

The battle was going very poorly for the elves.

The ladders were all encompassed, Multiple Fae were wandering around, tossing fire into the air. One or two were even tossing snowballs…in July. Where the balls hit, a big white cloud erupted. If there were defenders there, I'm sure that we would be losing people in droves.

I was tapped from behind, and someone said, "Go to your rally point."

"What?" I asked, but the person was already moving on.

"Follow me," Eolmir said.

"What's going on?"

"Apparently they're performing resurrection ritual."

"Resurrection?"

"Oh, that's right, you still don't know all the rules. I forget sometimes with how you take to combat."

"I have experience with combat…if only in my own mind."

He laughed a bit at this. While we walked, we talked about the rules. Some of them, like for combat, were straight forward. They also let me know how I could 'kill' instead of just maim a man in plate armor.

We talked about the basics of ritual magic, which apparently anyone could do with enough time. One such ritual was the resurrection circle we were going to.

What really interested me, though, was the story about the world we were playing in.

This was earth, but not the earth we'd been born to. At the start of the renaissance the Fae had realized that they were going to be destroyed if the progress of technology continued the way that it had been. Apparently knowledge is anathema to magic. Go figure.

So, they'd brought together all of the denizens of Faerie among which the Elves then numbered, and performed a Grande Ritual.

They'd thought to completely destroy mankind and create a world they could once again inhabit openly. What actually occurred was a split. They created a world where humanity was in the minority and Fae were in the majority.

Our world went on without the Fae. This world went on without, or mostly without, humans.

Without the constant pressure of the humans, the elves realized that they no longer had to group with their cousins the Fae and there was a schism in Faerie. The ensuing war almost obliterated the lesser races of Faerie.

In the end, a nation of Faerie and a nation of Elves were left.

What happened to the humans you ask?

They did what our race always does. They retreated, regrouped, and came up with a plan.

The elves and Fae were not really allergic to iron, they were just unable to work it in Faerie. The laws governing that land are strange and not conducive to science.

So, the humans began to work iron and sell weapons to both sides of the conflict. When the Fae realized what the humans had done, the elves formed an alliance with the humans, and both armies faced off against the Fae on the field of battle.

The elves won their independence there, and the humans won a grudging respect in both the other nations.

That was about five hundred years ago. There have been wars and periods of peace since then. Currently, the war is actually over something a bit silly.

"You've got to be kidding me. That's what this war is about?"

"You slight our queen's honor?"

"But…he's human. You have to expect…"

"He declared his intent to marry her and bring a permanent peace to our peoples."

"But, it was the Fae princess masquerading as a human who seduced the King."

"Doesn't matter. He should have held himself pure."

"That's messed up."

"You have no idea."

"Wait…they were really getting married, weren't they. I mean real real, not game real."

"Yes, they were."

"So, when you say…what an asshole."

"My thoughts exactly. No magic was involved in his…dalliance."

"Kill all humans," I growled.

"Now you get it."

There were green flames surrounding a circle about ten feet on a side. Three men and three women in robes were making gestures and movements in the circle. We were standing with the other twenty eight elves who'd died protecting the ladders.

As I watched, they tossed something in the flames and they slowly shifted from green to red and then died out.

"That's our cue," Eolmir said. We went and lay down in the midst of the circle. The priests, or whatever, came and tapped each of us on the forehead and we 'woke up' from our dead state.

"Anything preventing us going en masse back to Kelethin?"

Eolmir shook his head.

I raised my sword into the air and called, "For the Queen and the Greenwood!"

"For the Raven!" Eolmir yelled.

Dawn was just beginning to break at this point. I hadn't realized that we'd been going all night, but I felt invigorated. The trip back to Kelethin took much less time than the trip out to the circle. We ran, my squad arrayed behind me.

"Form Line!" I called and slowed to a walk. I still didn't know if we have commands like that, but most of them understood what I meant and formed a proper line on me. I was at the right end, and they fell in on the left.

We advanced on the mob milling under the walkways. It was a massacre.

From the Grande Melee, I already knew that the elves were much more focused on group tactics than the other two armies had been. We stood our ground and waited for them to advance and used out superior tactics to blunt their superior numbers.

That morning we walked over the top of our opponents, literally sometimes. My sword arm was becoming fatigued by the time we got to the ladders and were finishing off the last of the army on the ground. Then we moved into the trees and took out the soldiers harassing the pockets of resistance left of my nation.

Every time we freed an elf or more, they joined in the formation. Our force grew, eventually including a squad of archers behind the advancing line of swordsman.

We had barely any resistance until we got to the primary platform. There was enough room there for them to be formed in ranks, and they had the tower shields I'd noticed earlier. They had their backs to us.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" I yelled as I charged.

"For the Raven" called the men and women at my back.

Arrows arced into the backs of those to the front and sides of me and then we were in their midst. The tower shield is great for protecting something at the front of a formation. The problem is that due to its size and bulk it makes turning around a bear.

Even as the humans tried to turn, the defenders inside the central palace I lost some of the elves with me, but we wiped the remaining humans from our city and once again retook the Greenwood.

They passed around water bottles and towels and we all sat where we were, the elves and the dead humans, and took a breather.

That had been intense. The sun was well up by this time and I was starting to feel it. It had been over twenty four hours since I'd awoken Friday morning. In between then and now I'd participated in a battle that had ranged all over the place.

The losers made their way out of the Greenwood toward the human occupied lands to the south. The winners...had business to take care of.

"So, Bran, it seems you had a very eventful first night."

"I died, Your Majesty."

"And were resurrected. I know. But how you died...was pretty epic."

"I know, right? Six people took me down at once."

The queen smiled at me. I smiled back, a bit unsure what was going on.

"Clear the chamber!" she called out.

I made a move to leave and she stopped me, "Not you, Bran. I wanted to talk to you alone for a moment."

"Me, your majesty?" I said a little more confused. I wondered what I could have done to warrant such close scrutiny.

"Call me Carol," she said with a smile, "Sam tells me he told you about the cause of the hostilities?"

"Yeah, something about the king...sleeping with someone else while engaged to you."

"That's the simple version."

"And the long version, I'm sure, includes a lot of recrimination, heart break, and sappy romantic comedies."

"Are you sure you're a boy?"

I blushed and looked down at my feet, "My mom is a girly girl, or so it seems most of the time. She's tried her best to instill the basic feminine understandings. Plus, these damned hormones seem to help a little as well. Not that I appreciate them, but..."

"It was a joke, Bran. Breathe. I get you're going through a tough time, but you need to realize not everyone is out to get you."

"Sorry...Carol."

"So, how would you like an interesting role in the coming conflict."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want you to lead my armies...well army really."

"Aren't I a little young to lead?"

"Yes, you are the youngest person currently participating. That should be poetic justice."

"Why..?"

"Because cornflower was the youngest at the time."

"She was..."

"Legal, don't get me wrong, but it really stings being overlooked for a girl almost fifteen years younger than you are."

"Where do I enter into this?"

"How would you like to be my son...and the king's bastard."

"I don't know how I feel about being a bastard..."

"Mostly it's to give you a reason to be leading the elves into battle. You have a talent for this."

"There has to be someone else..."

"Oh, we have soldiers, I mean in the military currently. Sam is special forces."

"I wondered why he was so good at sneaking."

"Yes, there's a reason that I have him as a scout. The thing is, modern warfare uses a different skill set than ancient warfare does. You have the ability to see what is necessary to take the field."

"This was simple..." I began. I didn't think myself special. This had been a really simple skirmish. I'd just seen an opening and inserted myself into it. That was all. Nothing I'd done couldn't have been done by one of the other people playing last night.

"Without you participating, it's likely the Greenwood would have fallen last night. The elves would be slaves to the humans now."

"But, how..."

"The game is persistent, Bran. Anything we do this weekend continues to next weekend. We're crafting a story, and we live by the results of our actions."

"Oh...so if I hadn't acted..."

"We'd be having a much different conversation this morning."

I sat there stunned. I'd changed the course of the game.

"I understand if you're uncomfortable doing this..."

"No, if they'll follow me, I think I can do it."

"I think the calls of 'for The Raven' this morning were evidence of their willingness to follow you."

I blushed again, unused to the praise I was receiving. "I'll do it...mom."

She giggled a little like a schoolgirl when I said it. I smiled.

"Well, Prince Bran, call everyone back in."

The ceremony that followed was a bit long, very involved, and in my sleep deprived state I didn't register much of it. I remember smiling a lot, having robes put on me, and kneeling and standing a lot.

When it was done, I stumbled to the back end of the city, half fell down the ladder, and climbed into bed. I'd just fallen asleep, in my armor, when Gregor was there standing over me.

"Get Up, Forge Slave!"

I leapt to my feet...and just about fell flat on my face. Gregor laughed at me. I smiled, but followed him out, my heart racing. Well, there's one thing about an ogre waking you up...it really get's the blood flowing.

I was doing more scut work, but I was smiling the whole time. Something about the smell of hot metal really struck a chord in me that flowers and perfume never had. I spent the entire day running around, pumping bellows, getting wood, moving pig iron, and so on.

I was sweating, even more than I had while fighting off the humans, but the smile just wouldn't leave my face. This was something I really wanted to do with my life. Sure, there might not really be a future in it, but I was learning something real.

I collapsed into bed at around seven in the evening, having done nothing more than learn the basics of my job as assistant. It was dark out when Eolmir shook me awake.

"Bran, get up."

I groaned something, but got up and put my armor back on. It was...a bit ripe after leaving it in a pile all day, but I'd rather have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

"You look like death warmed over, Bran."

"People keep waking me up to work, Eolmir."

He laughed and I chuckled with him. I'd brought it on myself after all. We stumbled around the forest for a couple of hours, but there weren't any humans out her this evening, so I got to go back to bed. This time, however, I took care of my armor before I lay down.

I woke up before dawn and went up to the platforms to watch the sun rise through the trees. It was a beautiful sight. Sure, I was sleeping in a little shack off the side of the forge. It wasn't really camping, but I loved it and it was better than I'd ever imagined from what I'd seen online.

Breakfast over I was back in the forge with Gregor for a couple of hours.

"Could I be excused from the forge until about 1 pm?"

"What's up, Bran? Tired of this already?"

"Nope. They want me to start drilling and prepping the army. Everyone is supposed to be back, so I thought we'd work on our formations a little bit before lunch."

"Sure, let's close down everything. I want to see this."

"What..?"

"We have some pretty independent thinkers among the elves. I want to see you putting them to drill, young buck."

"That's 'prince young buck,' to you," I say with a smile.

Drill went as horribly as Gregor thought it would...at least until I began to get frustrated with it.

"You're good, I get that. You're older than me, which happens a lot. The thing is, without what little drill we did Saturday morning we would all now be slaves in the human settlement.

"Is that what you want?"

There were some mutters, and one or two angry exclamations.

"What we did was good enough."

"You're welcome to leave and go join the humans if that's how you feel. We're elves, which means we're better than that. We are concise, we are ancient, and we will make the humans regret everything that they've ever done to us. We will take them into slavery. They'll serve our needs. My father will bow down before our queen and submit to our righteous judgment."

People were actually cheering when I got done. Did it actually make things run smoothly? No, that would have taken a miracle, but it did make things run more smoothly than they did before I said something. There were still grumbles, but by the time we broke for lunch we were better at moving into, and out of, the basic formations than we'd been before.

While I was sitting at lunch, I had a wild idea, something that would take some planning, but I decided it was time to stop waiting for the humans to attack us and take the fight to them for once.

I worked for a couple of hours with Gregor in the forge after lunch, and then we were closing out the event, collecting trash from our camp sites and closing it down for the week. Gregor handed me a piece of paper when we finished closing up the forge.

"What's this?"

"My business address. In case you were serious about wanting to be my apprentice."

"I thought..."

"There's no way I'd work from here permanently."

We carted some half finished pieces to his truck, and I told him I'd be there early Monday morning. Then it was a matter of putting my new gear into my little hatchback and driving home.

The drive was nothing like it was on the way up. Where I was filled with happiness and hope and excitement before I was filled with nothing but dread now. I really didn't want to be on my way home now. The only thing that kept me on the road was my mantra. It was also what helped me deal with my mom.

"Three more months," I whispered to myself as I drove.

My birthday was in the middle of October, so that would mean I would be eighteen in three months and legally in charge of my own destiny. So, I'd just have to survive that long and then I'd be able to get a therapist...

And then everything came crashing down on my head. Mom was planning on getting a therapist for me. She wanted someone who would rubber stamp her ideas and get me...what?

I almost laughed a bit. The worst that could happen would be that she would force me to dress in skirts.

I drove into the garage at home and got my stuff out of the back. I hung my sword and buckler on a couple of pegs on the tool board that I didn't use anymore and took my armor out to the back yard. I cleaned it as well as I was able with a brush, promising myself I would look up the proper cleaning and care of leather online later.

I took my clothing and went to my room looking for something to wear around the house while I cleaned my laundry.

"What the hall, Mom!" I yelled when I set foot in the confection that my room had turned into. Gone were the cream walls, neutral comforter and beige carpeting.

The room was all lace and pink and purple. There were posters of pop singers like Katy Perry and other 'girl' bands.

"Do you like it honey?"

I tore down the posters and let them fall to the floor.

"Raven..."

"My name is Bran." I said with a certain amount of venom in my voice.

I opened the closet and looked at the damage in there. Gone were any semblance of a male wardrobe. My cargoes and slacks were missing. In there place were skirts of all descriptions. My drawers were full of girly tops.

Gone were my plain white cotton underwear. Lace and silk had replaced them.

"What the hell, Mom?"

"Do you like it?"

I glared at her, "what do you think?"

"Well, I thought..."

"I'm seventeen, Mom. I don't need you dressing me. I have a style I like. I have clothing that fits my personality and activity choices. I work in the metal shop at school, mom. I can't be wearing these...frills."

"But that's not for a month or so and I thought..."

"I got a job, mom, and I can't wear this...stuff to my new job."

"When did you get a job?"

"This weekend. I've apprenticed myself to a blacksmith."

"That again?"

"Yes, mom, that again. I need real clothing to work."

"Fine, will get you some work clothing, but I expect you to wear this anytime you're not working."

"Not gonna happen."

"While you're under my roof you will..."

"Three months, Mom."

"Excuse me?"

"In three months I'm moving out. For three months I will not be living by your rules. I will wear what I want. If you want any sort of relationship with me after this mess, then you won't dare try to force this on me."

"This is just a phase."

"Is that what your pet therapist said?"

She colored a bit and looked away.

"What, mom?"

"All the therapists I talked to..."

"They agreed with me?"

"Well, they mostly said they'd have to talk to you before making a determination, but..."

"They said it was my choice, and they weren't going to rubber stamp your backward ideals?"

"I will not allow you to talk to me in this manner!" she said, getting angry.

"You destroyed my room, Mom. How do you expect me to treat you? With respect? Try showing a little if you expect it in return. I'm almost an adult, Mom. I don't deserve this treatment."

She stood there with her mouth open, just looking at me.

"What, did I grow another head?" I said turning my head and trying to see my back."

She snorted.

"No, you're so...forceful. A little like your father..." she said.

I smiled a bit sadly at that. It made me feel good to be likened to my father, but it was another reminder of how much I missed him.

"Mom, I am a boy. Why can't you accept that?"

"Because I want you to have the big wedding with the beautiful dress. I want grandkids one day. I want to meet your handsome husband and know someone will be taking care of you."

"Why can't I be the handsome husband introducing you to my wife?" I ask.

"You're a lesbian?"

"No, I'm heterosexual. I'm male in here," I say touching my chest, "and up here," I say touching my head.

Something clicked behind my mother's eyes and then she smiled.

"Oh, I see. You're a boy. You like girls."

"You okay, Mom?"

"I was really afraid you were a lesbian," Mom said with a little smile.

"Would that really be a bad thing?" I say with a little smile.

"I fear for you, Ra...Bran. People don't like things that are different...that they don't understand."

"Mom, if I look like a guy, most people will accept me as a guy. I won't need to worry about it."

"But..."

"No buts. I still want to see a therapist."

"I got you an appointment for tomorrow."

"With your pet therapist?" I said, the venom that seemed to come so easily to me right then.

"I told you..."

"I'm not buying this whole reconciliation crap, Mom."

"Raven, language."

"Crap isn't swearing or vulgarity, Mom. It's better than 'shit' any day of the week."

"It's swearing if you're using it to add emphasis, not describe something. I don't care if it's 'crap' 'bandersnatch' or 'shit' you use. When you say it as unneeded emphasis, it's swearing."

I opened my mouth to respond, but then closed it with a snap. She had a point.

"Fine, I'll go talk to your pet therapist, but I refuse to abide by anything she says."

"Are you sure, sweetie? The therapist could actually agree with you. I promise you that I wouldn't...no, you're right. I was threatening to do just what you're accusing me of, Bran. How about we make a deal. I let you have your clothing back, and you give me three months with the therapist no matter what he says."

At the time, I was too upset with everything that happened to notice her choice of pronoun. I just nodded at her in a sullen manner and she went and got my clothing for me.

I changed into a pair of loose, knee length shorts and went to take care of my laundry.

"You really should shave, Bran."

"Why? Not like I'm trying to impress a guy or something. Besides, it's too much hassle."

"So, you're telling me that you'll happily shave your face, but shaving your legs is too much work?"

"Basically," I said with a smile.

She made an exasperated sigh and I just grinned. The rest of the day passed in strained silence. I went to sleep in the confection, hoping that its saccharine nature didn't rub off on me as I slept.

The next morning I was out the door at the crack of dawn and driving over to Gregor's studio. He was outside the city limits on what looked like old farmland. There wasn't a barn, but the stone building of his forge already shimmered with heat.

"Am I late?" I said rushing in through the door.

"Not at all. I just got started myself. You know what to do," he said with a little smile.

More scut work greeted me.

Don't take this as complaining. I may never have worked so hard in my life, but I loved every minute of it. I got to see just how Gregor turned the iron bars and pig into works of art. No, they weren't artistic in the traditional sense, but they were...something special. He changed heat and sweat and hammer blows into buckles and nails and hinges. He made swords and shields.

There was something so very...masculine about the work we were doing. It called to me in my center and I felt a growling response. I wanted to feel the pounding of the hammer as it forced the metal into the shape that I required of it. Even pumping the bellows awakened me. My muscles ached by the time we were ready to take a break my muscles felt like jell-o.

"What time is it?" I inquired.

"Almost one."

"Cr...My mom set up a meeting with a therapist at one o'clock. I'm going to be late."

"This a gender thing?"

I smiled weakly, "yes, it's a gender thing."

"Go then. Sorry you won't be able to shower or anything."

"It's no big. It might even help the therapist see I'm a guy," I say with a rueful grin.

Gregor cackles as I rush out the door to my waiting rust bucket and speed off.

I get to the doctor's office almost twenty minutes later and park. I run in to find my Mom looking around a little worried.

"Whew," she said, holding her nose, "you stink."

"It's hot work apprenticing to a blacksmith," I say with a smile.

"Couldn't you have showered?"

"No time. I came right from work."

She shook her head and we went to the front counter. I took the clip board that was there and filled out the information.

Some of it was normal, I guess. It asked about my dreams and some similar items. When it got to how many times a day I masturbated I was getting a little uncomfortable.

Those were some of the last questions on the list, though, so I finished up quickly and handed the sheet back to the lady behind the desk and sat down to wait.

The cool of the air-conditioned office began to chill the sweat on my body and I began to feel uncomfortable for another reason. I was shivering slightly when they called my name, so I was happy to get up and move around a little.

I headed back behind the counter and entered the office where the therapist was sitting. His shelves were lined with toys for various ages for both genders. There were a number of gender neutral toys like some blocks and the biggest bucket of lego pieces I'd ever seen.

I looked up at the older gentleman behind the desk for the first time and started. The therapist was male. This was the first thing that failed to meet the expectations I had about my mom. Could she actually be trying to understand?

"Welcome, Raven."

"I prefer to be called Bran."

"Why's that?"

"Because it means Raven, but it's a boys name."

"you know that Raven is neither a boy's nor a girl's name, don't you?"

I had no response for that. I did know it, but why did he mention it.

"Sorry. You have every right to pick a name that better fits who you think you are."

"I don't think I'm a boy, doctor."

"I'm just a licensed therapist, Bran. That means I'm not actually a doctor. Call me Michael."

"Ok, Michael."

"So, you want to explain that? I thought that's why you were here."

"I feel like I'm a boy," I say to him.

"How is that different?"

"If I thought I were a boy, that would mean that it was some sort of choice for me. I thought through the pros and cons and decided, 'well, I think I'll be a boy today.'"

"and that's not what happened?"

"No, I've always felt this way. I tried to think my way out of it, to convince myself I was wrong, but I was miserable. It was only after I accepted I was a boy that I started to feel more in control of my life."

"So, being a boy means controlling your surroundings."

"No...being a boy means being a boy. There are wimpy boys. There are tough boys. There are boys that are somewhere in between."

"And you're a wimpy boy?"

"What would make you think that? No, I'm kinda tough. Not as tough as I'd be if I actually had some T in my system, but not bad. I can bench press a hundred fifty pounds and dead lift about the same."

"You weight lift?"

"Yep. When I'm not doing sword training."

"Interesting. You know, there are female weightlifters."

"You only prove my point with that," I said with a smile.

"Explain." he said with a smile of his own.

"Being male or female isn't about what you do. There are guys who love poetry and romance novels but who are men. There are females who want to be firefighters and are just as crass as the guys, but love being women. Male, female, gender neutral, it's not about what you do so much as who you are."

"I see you have thought about this a lot, even if you say you feel you're a boy."

"I tried to argue myself out of it, you'll remember. It's easier to be a butch female, most of the time, than to be some halfway freak like I'd be condemning myself to become."

"Halfway freak?"

"If I were a guy who was really a woman inside, then they just poke a hole and they're done. Nice and neat, and I know I'm over simplifying. As a guy trapped in this female body, however, there aren't any nice and neat answers, let alone simple. The penis is simply too complex an organ to be made out of tissue from another part of the body."

"Well, there are advances being made with 3D printing techniques..." he began.

"What are those," I said, knocked from my train of thought.

"Well, apparently they have made advances with using living tissue in a machine which will form it into a given shape. Right now they're working on making ears and other simple appendages, but I could easily see that changing in the future. They take the tissue they need and the printer would form the appendage a cell at a time into the form needed."

I sat ther dumfounded at the suggestion. "You mean I could be fully functioning," I say, the shock evident in my voice.

"Well, not likely anytime soon. It will be years before they start using it for any 'elective surgeries,'" he said with obvious disgust at the term, "but it is possible that within your lifetime you would be able to be a functioning male."

I sat there staring off into space. It is all so sci-fi to think about. The idea that they'd be able to make me and appendage that would work was beyond my wildest dreams. Sure, there'd been some fiction on the net about things like that, usually including something mechanical, but the idea that it could be all me...that I would have a penis.

"something wrong," Michael asked me.

"Damn these female hormones," I say with a growl, "no, I'm happy. That is the best news I've ever heard. The thought of having my very own...just overwhelmed me a bit."

He looked at me appraisingly, "You do realize when I mean a long time, I'm suggesting ten years or more."

"Sure, I get that, but...wow. that would be so awesome."

"you know, you'll still be sterile."

"I get that. I never wanted some guy in me anyway, and the thought of being able to get inside some girl...sorry, you didn't need to hear that."

"I've heard worse. Not saying any names or specifics, I have a patient who has rape fantasies."

"Has..rape...what?"

"Being the recipient of, not the other way around, although I hear there are people like that as well."

"That's...sick," I say with obvious revulsion.

"I try not to make any judgements. The point is that people have all sorts of things that they are interested in. Your interest in vanilla heterosexual sex is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ok, talking with some old guy about my sexual fantasies just got a little gross."

He chuckled, "and you think talking about the fantasies of a transgendered teenage boy isn't a little strange for me?"

I smiled at him in sympathy.

"Let's change subjects, okay."

He sighed in relief and I laughed.

"So, if I may ask, were you working out before you came in to try and prove you were a guy or something?"

"What? Oh, the sweat stains. No, I was working. I recently got a job as a blacksmith's apprentice."

"A blacksmith's..."

"Apprentice. Yep."

"Those exist?"

"He makes authentic weaponry and armor for historical recreations."

"Like knights and armor and SCA and stuff?"

"Pretty much. I lost track of time and I wasn't able to take a shower."

"Tell me about your work."

I went into detail describing what I did. It was only when I noticed his eyes glazed over a bit that I realized he was probably bored to tears. I blushed and petered out.

"Sorry," I said.

"Don't worry about it. So, you're almost eighteen?"

"Yes," I say a bit warily.

"I notice you had your first period a couple of years ago?"

"Yes," I say and blush crimson. Flaunting a tampon is one thing, but talking about this sort of thing with a guy who isn't my gyno is a little weird.

"Then I see no reason not to refer you to a endocrinologist."

"A..."

"To get you started on testosterone."

"You mean..."

"Well, with your job, your dress, your attitudes, I see nothing that would prevent us from going forward."

I just sat there open mouthed.

"I'd suggest getting some more masculine brands. One tip on dress, most men's clothing looks fine if it's a little loose, which is most of the reason guys never really worry about trying stuff on in the store."

I just nodded, a goofy smile plastered to my face. A sobering thought brought be back down to earth. "Think you could explain all this to my mom?"

Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

Mom took it about like I expected her to.

"Are you sure, Mr. Hastings? Isn't that a sort of permanent change?"

Michael looked at my mom as if she'd grown another head. "Yes, Ms. Monroe. That's the point. Your son needs to..."

"She's not..."

"He's right here, Mom. You said you'd live with whatever the therapist told us. This is what he's telling us."

She looked at me, and for a moment I saw disgust on her features. She smoothed them out, but I knew in that moment. My mom talked a lot about how good of an actress that she was in college, before she fell in love with dad and married.

Now, though, I knew. I knew for a fact that she was a good actress. The moments that she'd given me yesterday, the support she'd seemed to hold, she truly believed that no one would actually support me in this. She thought they would support her in her belief of me.

She thought little of me. She thought I was unnatural.

Well, that was fine by me as long as she actually took me to my appointment with the endo.

"Mom, I get that you dislike what I am. This is something I can live with. I'll be gone in three months. As long as you keep authorizing my treatment we'll have no problems."

My mom nodded at me, and I smiled at her. She wasn't the only one who could act. I'd live out my time, but that was it. Maybe, in time, she could accept me for who I was, but not now, it seemed.

Michael gave me a sympathetic look as we left. I just smiled and shook my head.

The endo took my blood, blood pressure, height and weight, and so on. Then he gave me a shot and we left. I didn't feel any differently, but I guess it takes time for these things to work their magic.

I went back to the forge when we were done. I didn't want to spend any more time with my mom than I had to. The fact that I now had a job made that so much easier, and it might also make my moving out easier as well.

As I was working, with nothing else to occupy my thoughts, I realized I'd never had a discussion with Gregor about pay.

"Hey, Gregor?"

"Yes, Bran."

"Well, this is a bit awkward, but..."

"Spit it out, boy."

"Do I get paid for doing this?"

He began to laugh. I smiled, but I was still worried.

"Incidentally, why do you ask?"

"Because I need to move out of my house in three months and I'm a bit worried about...finances...and things."

"Yes, Bran. You're my employee. Trust me when I say I've never had as enthusiastic an apprentice as you are."

I looked at him with a grimace plastered on my face. I wasn't sure about what he was saying and whether I should take it as a real compliment or not.

"It's a good thing, Bran. I've had a few in the past. Most of them quit before we finished a weekend event. Not only did you make it past that, but you showed up this morning."

"You mean someone would actually agree to be here and not show up?"

"This is hard work, if you haven't noticed."

I laughed at that, "Yes, Gregor, I've noticed. It's also kind of fun."

"Fun?"

"Yep. I love watching you work...I mean not watching you," I said, blushing, "I mean watching the pieces as they're shaped into something useful. I like the sound of the hammer as it hits the metal, the feel of the bellows pump in my hands, the head of the fire...basically I just love everything about the forge."

"You're crazy...just like me," he said with an infectious grin.

"So...I am willing to do this without pay, but that means I don't eat and I'm on the street."

"You're serious about that, aren't you?"

"Doing this for the fun of it? Yes, I am."

"Well, then, you'll be happy to know that you have a very well paid position."

He went on to explain benefits, wages, and everything else to me. I was surprised at the amounts and quality of what he was offering.

"You can afford that?"

"If I weren't involved with the EHA, then chances are I'd barely be making it. As it is the money I make on repairs alone pays for you."

I was shocked. Not including whatever the medical, dental and so on cost it meant that he was making more than thirty thousand a year just on repairs to things he'd made for EHA members.

I stood there with my mouth opened and he began to laugh.

"You mean to tell me you seriously had no idea how much this job paid when you started?"

I just shook my head, unable to process anything else.

"I like you, kid. You're ok. Let's get your paperwork done so that we can make sure you actually do get paid...or more specifically so that the IRS does. You really don't want to be hit for back taxes with what you're making."

I chuckled at this. We filled out the paperwork and then got back to the fun stuff.

"No this is what I call pumping iron," I said the next time that I was doing bellows work.

Gregor laughed so hard that I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel. I joined in. It took us about fifteen minutes before we were able to get back to work, but it really cemented my relationship with Gregor.

We worked this way Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. On Friday we moved the pieces he would be working on up to the campsite. I stopped in at the admin building and they changed my status to that of a working professional. Just like that, for as long as I stayed working with Gregor, I got free access to the camp. That would save me a sizable chunk of money each year.

The weekend didn't have much going on, mostly more drill and a couple of light skirmishes, but nothing like the all out battle of my first weekend here.

The next few weeks settled into a routine. Monday through Thursday we worked at the forge near the city. Friday we moved everything up to the camp, and then we were at camp until Sunday afternoon.

This isn't to say it was boring in any way. I loved the work. It stimulated me in a way I never expected. My muscle growth bothered me, which is to say my lack of growth. I was getting stronger, and what little fat I had was melding away, but I wasn't bulking up any. I had a killer set of washboard abs, though, and I was getting definition in other areas as well.

In addition to work, our weekends at the EHA were a lot of fun as well. We had campfires under the stars, good food, and pleasant company. There were skirmishes in the woods, night patrols, and everything else you could really desire out of a LARP weekend.

Toward the end of the weekend, at the end of this idyll the queen requested I join her in audience.

"How goes the training, Prince Bran?"

"Well, I almost feel confident in taking them to war."

"Good. Next week, then, we go to war."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, but I smiled a feral smile at my queen and mother. "We take the war to them next week," I said.

We gathered all the elves together and told them what would be happening. We wanted to get as many of them into camp as early as possible. Full scale assaults weren't allowed until after 8pm on Friday.

That would mean we had two hours to get it, get geared, and get our butts to the human settlement.

We had a couple of things going in our favor, not the least of which was the fact that elves were never the aggressors. Most of the times that people assaulted on Friday, they waited until dark before they actually attacked.

---
If you were going to wait, then you should wait until the hour before dawn. You'll have enough light to see by, and your opponent will be at his weakest.

No, we would be attacking before sunset. Normally, that is the worst time to begin an attack. Light conditions would be getting worse the longer you fought. The enemy would still be awake and alert.

However, I had to factor in things that traditional tactics didn't include. People who LARP are using their preconceptions more than their perceptions. They expect people to follow the same patterns that they always follow. If most people attack in the middle of the night, then they expect you to attack in the middle of the night.

Also, at eight people are still wandering into camp. While the registration opens at six, it is open 'til ten on any given Friday. People can register after those time periods, but they just do it in the administration office.

So, in attacking at eight, we would be attacking them at less than their full strength with most of our strength.

---
That week seemed to drag forward at a glacial pace. I still loved my work, and I was even getting to work on some pieces of my own, a couple of buckles and a handful of nails, but I was looking forward to the assault and could barely keep my excitement contained.

The tasks around the forge were getting a lot easier, but I was still as skinny as a rail. It was good for my elven aesthetic, but it upset my self-image.

I wanted to be the guy with the rippling muscles, not the pencil-necked geek. Don't misunderstand, I was gaining strength. I was benching reps of two fifty on a regular basis. I could dead lift almost three hundred, on a good day. I wasn't fatigued nearly as quickly at the forge. It's just that I was still very skinny.

Friday arrived and we made our way up to the camp around four. We wanted everything at the forge before six so I could begin to get everyone situated and ready for the grand assault.

They began to wander in just after six. Eolmir and Adrondel were my two primary lieutenants. We would be splitting the army into three equal groups. Adrondel would hold his in reserve for the second phase of the attack. I would be heading in first from the north. Eolmir would attack from the south shortly after I got their attention.

We organized them into their armies, and around seven thirty, assuming we had everyone we would be getting, we moved down to the rally points.

By this point there were still a couple of people, like Eolmir, who were quieter than I was, but there weren't many. Even so, we moved through the forest with hardly more sound than the wind.

We arrived in position to the north of their city. I'd seen the city a couple of times on recon over the past weeks, but this time, I looked at it knowing I would soon be among the cabins sitting in the open field.

There were two dirt tracks crossing in the center of their village. At the southern end of the village was the castle, made out of wood, of course. Eolmir would bring his forces around the western side of the castle. Adrondel would be holding his reserve forces to the west of the town, just north of the central east-west road.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" I yelled as I began the charge.

"The Raven!" my soldiers called as they moved with me.

This wasn't the wild run that you'd expect. We were moving at a measured pace, each man keeping the line as straight as they could. We made sure to call out from the far side of the field surrounding the town. In ones and twos humans began to run out to meet us. We dispatched all of them without any loss of life on our side.

"Walk March...Walk." I called, slowing us to a more normal sixty beats per minute march from the one-twenty we'd charged at.

When we were twenty paces from town I called out, "Halt! At Ease!"

And we stood there. Human's peered around the buildings, looking at us curiously. We stood with our swords at low carry and our shields slung loosely. Each man and woman held close to the position we'd drill and I was proud of them. We cleared at the humans, and they slowly began to form up on the other side of the gap we'd allowed. Their formation, if you could call it that, was ragged. Their line was more of a snake.

As soon as a good number of people were gathered I called out, "At Ready! Advance!"

There is nothing like the fear in the eyes of your opponent when they realize they're screwed. That was the first time I saw that. They tried to get their weapons ready, and close ranks a bit, but it was too little too late.

If they'd been able to actually form up into some semblance of a formation, if they'd actually had time to organize their thoughts, then their two to one odds might have meant something. As it was, we lost four of the fifteen I had with me before we took them out completely.

We reformed ranks on the street and moved into town. As a distraction we were doing excellent work. We moved slower than on the plain with the need for people on the second and third ranks to march sideways to protect our flanks at every alley.

They did attack us at the alleyways.

We lost another two making our way to the center of town. Once there, we formed square and prepared for the attrition that would soon begin. I put myself in the center of the formation, ready to take the place of the first elf who fell.

They came at us, first in ones and twos and then the portcullis raised and the knights charged from the castle. That was what Eolmir had been waiting for. He marched up behind the knights and reached them shortly after they collided with my formation.

We lost two people, but I was already moving into the breach when it happened, attacking everyone in range. I'd sparred since starting work at the forge, and been in a couple of light skirmishes, but never in full battle since that first night.

I wasn't prepared for how quickly I was able to move that sword from target to target. It was like a living thing, snapping out like a striking snake. My opponents didn't just drop out of the fight either. They moved with each of my strikes and I heard a couple of grunts of pain. Even inside their armor they were feeling the force of my strikes.

I tempered the force a little, and increased the speed.

I was becoming a little manic when I felt a stinging blow to my arm and looked up to see Aragorn facing off against me.

He'd taken me in my sword arm, so I dropped the blade and brought my buckler around to block. "Descend!" I yelled.

There was a call of "The Raven!" from the west. My small group was falling around me, and then I heard the clash of arms from behind the King's Men. Before they had the chance to orient on the people behind them Adrondel's force took them in the side. We now outnumbered the humans arrayed against us.

That was when I heard a call of "The Queen and The Raven!" from behind me in a clear female voice. I smiled. Apparently the queen had time to gather up the remaining elves and was now descending on the human forces.

I smiled at Aragorn and he just shook his head at me. "I yield!" he said and dropped his weapon. A number of the knights joined in with him. Some didn't and they were felled quickly.

"Your plan?" he said with a tone I didn't recognize in his voice.

I nodded and smiled at him. "Good plan. Wish I would have thought of it for the last time we attacked you."

"You probably would have won. Is Daniel here?"

"Nah, he's sick this week. He'll be pissed he missed this," Aragorn says with a grin.

We wrapped up the battle, marched off our new slaves and moved in to the castle. There were now close to fifty of us standing in front of the open gate to the castle. I formed us into ranks and marched us into the castle.

The king's personal guard was quickly dispatched and then we were into the throne room. A man I'd never seen before sat on the throne. The queen and I advanced on him alone.

"Hello, Father," I said at the same time that she said, "Hello, Reginald."

"Allie I know, but not the whelp."

"Don't you recognize our son, Reginald?"

"I didn't agree to any of this, Carol," he said quietly.

"What, Frank? Have a problem when people change the rules on you? Or is that only your prerogative."

He looked...beaten. "Three years you've held this. It was only once."

"It was once too many, Frank. I loved you."

"I still love you. Can't we..."

"No!" she yelled.

"Mother, could you step back for a moment so I can talk to my father alone," I said to her loud enough for the other elves to hear.

As soon as Carol took a step back, I offered my hand to the king, "Hi, my name is Bran."

"In game?"

"Both. It's a long story that we can talk about later. You realize she wants you to apologize, right? Passion like that isn't generated by hate alone."

"I have apologized."

"For breaking her heart? For only thinking of yourself? For expecting her to forgive you without apologizing for what you really did?"

HE opened his mouth and then closed it. "You look way too young to be playing," he finally says.

"I'm seventeen. I just started on testosterone, though."

He looked like he wanted to question that, but I just shook my head, "Not right now." I looked over my shoulder and caught Carol's eye and she stepped back up to us.

"Carol, I'm sorry for breaking your trust in me. I'm sorry I ever looked at that girl."

"And?"

"I'm sorry I broke your heart. I'm sorry for all the time I've lost trying to prove my love for you. I'm sorry I'm the scum of the earth."

"And?"

He looked at her, confused. He couldn't think of anything else to apologize for, but then he saw a gleam in her eye. I stepped back toward the elves as they kissed. "I still haven't forgiven you yet, you realize."

"Well, it's at least a start," he says.

The rest of the weekend is spent dividing up humans and elves into the two camps. I got Aragorn and a number of others up at Kelethin. The Queen and King would be sitting on thrones at King's Cross. They'd have Adrondel with them. Eolmir would be with me.

I was just sitting down on the throne when Gregor entered the throne room.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, apparently I have an apprentice who is making my life easier and halving my work load. I'm actually caught up enough at this point that I can play for the first time in...a long time. You need a bodyguard?"

"Well, since I'm now the ruler in Kelethin, it would be a good idea."

He took a position at the door, which I left open so I could hear the city around me, and just looked menacing. I had to smile. I was prince of my own domain, and the elves ruled two thirds of the known world.

We closed up shop and made our way back into the real world. I was still stuck with the rust bucket, but I'd driven it so much that I was finally getting back into my groove with driving and being a lot more aggressive.

School started with a whimper, not a bang.

I'd noticed girls before now, and knew what I liked and didn't but when I started my senior year something was different. I mean I really noticed them. Angst thy name is woman seemed to be the order of the day.

I still had gym for some unknown reason, possibly because I loved to be active. The problem was that now I had a lot of difficulty keeping my eyes to myself. I felt myself becoming aroused with all the girls around me and knew I had a problem. I quickly put on a pair of shorts, hoping they would cover any evidence there might be, and pulled on my shirt.

My walk to the coach's office was probably the longest in my life. I kept averting my gaze, but no matter where I looked I saw...beauty.

"Coach Buttler?"

"Yes, Raven?"

"I need to transfer out of class."

"Why?"

"Because I'm transgendered and heterosexual and on testosterone and I really didn't think about it until today."

She stood there with her mouth open and looked at me, and then blushed, "Oh, you're...oh. Yes. Well. Wait in here until the girls get done changing and then report to the office. I wished you'd said something earlier."

"It slipped my mind. I've been busy the past couple of months with my new job. Then...well...um," I was embarrassed to mention that I'd become aroused, but the coach glanced down and me and became bright red. She left her office shortly after that and I thought I'd die of embarrassment.

Coach Buttler hurried the girls out and I went and changed back into my normal clothing. Once I was dressed I cleaned out my locker and made my way to the counselor's office.

"Hi, I need to transfer out of girl's gym."

"You need to transfer out of gym?"

"Just girl's gym. If I could get a boy's gym spot, I'd like that."

"Raven..."

"Call me Bran."

"Bran...are you trying to tell me something?" Mr. Petersen wasn't the brightest tool in the shed.

"I'm transgendered, Mr. Petersen."

"Oh...I see."

"I've been on hormones for about a month now."

"Hormones?"

"Testosterone. Didn't realize how big a problem it would be for me to be in a girl's gym class. Every guy's dream and nightmare in one."

He laughed at that. In that moment I realized he accepted me as who I was.

"They find you out?"

"Nah. I went and told the coach as soon as the idea popped up in my head."

"Popped...you had a..."

"My first, yes. Didn't even know it was possible."

"Sorry to hear that. But I'm not sure I can get you into a gym class this late. And there might be a problem with the other boys..."

"I can handle myself. I have martial arts training and I can bench over two hundred pounds."

"Skinny thing like you?"

"Tell me about it. Keep trying to bulk up, but I just get stronger not bigger."

"You might try protein shakes. I hear that works for some of the football players."

"I'll keep that in mind. So, what do I do instead of gym for this period?"

"Well, there's English 12 available, but you already take that third. Calculus is open and you have the requirements."

I shake my head. I don't particularly like math enough to do calculus.

"Biology...Physics...Study Hall is the only other thing there. You've got all your other graduation requirements covered."

"But...I always thought that Study Hall was for slackers."

"To a certain degree I agree with you. But some of the smarter students always end up there as well. Make of it what you will, Raven...I mean Bran. Sorry this difficult for me. I take it you're not interested in broadcasting this around?"

"Not really. I just have one more year here and then I really don't have to ever see any of them again."

"I understand. Well, you can spend the rest of the period in the library. Ms. Hascomb is the teacher in charge of the study hall. Take this add form to her."

I dropped off my clothing at my locker and went to the study hall. Ms. Hascomb accepted my change form and signed it, and then I went to find an empty table. It looked like I'd have to get here earlier. The least crowded table had a stunning blonde sitting at it, so I decided to take my chances.

"This seat taken?" I ask.

She glanced up at me and then looked down at her books. I sat down and focus on my own books. I had to smile, though. It's not like I was trying to pick up on her or anything. I had too much going on to have time for a girlfriend, and I wasn't really in a place where a girl would really fit.

"Amanda."

I look up and see her offering me a hand.

"Bran."

"That's an unusual name."

"I'm an unusual kind of guy," I say with a smile. "It's Welsh. It means Raven."

"Raven...wait...you're..."

"Used to be, but I'm Bran now. I didn't realize I was infamous."

"You're a guy? I'm confused."

Keeping my voice low, I explained things to her. She was a blonde, and this was high school. Not that I expected, or was looking for, anything. I even included my little problem in the locker room, omitting my other little problem as I didn't feel it was something to share in mixed company.

She blushed even at the idea a guy would be in the locker room. "Sure you didn't do it intentionally?"

"I swear. It never occurred to me. It has to be the most embarrassing moment of my life. It felt exactly like those dreams where you're at school without any clothing on."

She laughed at this. A couple of other students shushed her.

"So, you thinking of asking me out?"

"Um...what?"

"You like girls, don't you?"

"Sure, but I have a full time job and school and...stuff...on the weekends."

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?"

"Well, I'm sort of in this LARP group in the mountains?"

"You mean tights and prancing around the woods?"

"More like leather armor and sword fights."

"I bet you're an elf aren't you."

"What?"

"You look like an elf."

"Yeah, I'm an elven prince."

"Oh really," she said with a little smile.

"Are you...flirting with me?" I said, confusion consuming me.

"So what if I am." She continued to smile at me and licked her lips.

"Ok, now you're just teasing me." I replied. I can't deny the effect she had on me, and I'm squirmed in my seat a little bit. That's when I realized that I needed to get some new underwear. I stop moving, knowing that I'm going to embarrass myself even more if I continue.

Amanda is snickering at me.

"It's not funny," I said blushing.

"It's very funny," she fired back, a huge grin on her face.

I look away from her trying to get my hormones under control.

"I think I'm a lesbian."

I turn around and look at Amanda in shock. "You know I don't consider myself a girl, right?"

"But, you look like a girl, I mean," and she glances at the table.

"Mostly...but I'm not going to stay looking like this."

"How do you know you're...not like me. There's nothing wrong..."

"Amanda, you're gorgeous. I'd love to date you. But even if I look mostly female down below still..."

I wore a long sleeved shirt to school. There was way too much definition to my muscles for me to look entirely female, and I was trying to be at least a little stealth at school.

She takes a little gasp of air in through her mouth and I look at her face. She's flushed a bit, and I have to smile at her.

"Lesbian?" I asked a pointed look on my face.

She hides her face in her hair. I heard her voice quietly say, "Maybe I'm bi. I don't know."

"Well, as long as you recognize I'm a boy, I have no problems dating you."

"Really?"

I just smile, "Really. So, now I just have to figure out when I have time."

She laughed at that, and I smile. The bell sounded at that point signaling the end of the period.

The rest of my school day was uneventful, but it made me think, would I only be attractive to lesbians? And what would happen when I eventually get surgery to repair the problem? In my lifetime I could see a solution that would work. Would I lose my wife because she couldn't handle me being more of a man for her?

I took out my frustrations on the bellows and anvil. When Gregor realized that we were catching up to the work required by EHA he started bringing in more commission pieces. As I became more proficient, I was able to help him even more on those pieces. In the fall and winter they dropped to one weekend a month in the mountains, so we had less work from EHA all told, and we would quickly be getting ahead where that is concerned.

"Gregor...we have some time that I could take off on a weekend?"

"Got a hot date? You do don't you."

"I'd like to. Only problem is she's a lesbian."

"How's that a problem? She likes girls. You like girls. You look like a girl."

"But I'm not a girl."

"Strip."

"What?"

"Strip. Do you look like a boy or a girl without your clothing on?"

"Well...like a boy some places and like a girl in others."

"Then that's your answer. You're a bit of both right now, Hon. Live it up. If this girl likes you, then accept it and move on. It's not like you're looking for a soul mate. It's high school. She wants to date you, so go with it."

"So, can I have Saturday off?"

Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing," I said as I stared at the tangled mess I had in my hands. How do other guys take this thin strip of cloth and turn it into anything useful?

I wasn't too worried about my date tonight. I was just going to a middle of the road restaurant with Amanda. I wanted to dress up a bit, well dress up guy, so she could see me the way I really was. At school, I still wore gender ambiguous clothing, but this wasn't in school.

"I wish dad were here." I said to my mirror image.

"Let me get that for you."

"Mom, you don't have to..."

"Help my son with his first date? No, but I want to."

"I thought you hated what I'm doing."

"I really think you're making a mistake." That was the way Mom was anymore. She never referred to my gender, or name, if she could help it. I was surprised that she went so far as to call me her son.

"Thank you, Mom."

"You're welcome...Bran"

"Why do you think this is such a mistake?"

"Because if I'd done this at your age, I would never have had you."

"Mom..."

"No, I need to say this. When I was a teen, I was sure I was a boy. I hated girly things. I hated girls, which at least is something we didn't have in common. I had short hair, refused makeup, and tried everything I could to be a boy until I met your father. He changed everything for me. I knew he liked girls, the more feminine the better. I became what he needed me to be."

"But don't you understand? I'm not you!" She finished my tie and stood back.

"I know you're not."

"I'm dating a girl, mom. I'm attracted to girls."

"You don't know that..."

"Mom, I become aroused by girls in the locker room."

"That's just these hormones we have you on."

"Mom, there are gay guys. Are you saying they just have estrogen in their systems?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Mom, I like girls. There's no possibility of me having someone's baby."

"You might find the right guy..."

"Mom, do you ever think now that you were supposed to be a guy?"

"Sometimes, but that's not the point. See?" she said gesturing to herself, "I'm feminine. I'm girly," she begins to cry a little; "I'm a woman!"

"No, mom, we're not women. I'd be proud of you being my other dad."

She looked shocked that I would suggest such a thing to her, but I could also tell that something about it didn't shock her, but it did scare her.

"Think about it. I love that I'm alive, but don't you think that maybe you're doing yourself harm by continuing to try to be a girl? I know I am. With myself I mean."

"I'm too old."

"You're only thirty-seven mom."

"But, why would I be doing that. It's not like I find women attractive, or have dated anyone since your father..."

"You do it for yourself, so that you can actually like the person you see in the mirror."

"And you like the way you look right now?"

"Mom, you gotta admit, I'm kinda hot."

"I don't think I feel comfortable commenting on whether or not my seventeen year old son is 'hot'."

"I don't mean you should hit on me, just objectively speaking." Secretly, I was happy that she seemed to be coming around to seeing me as her son.

She gave me an appraising once over and then smiled, "You're no Brad Pitt, but yes, you're good looking."

"Thanks, Mom," I said and kissed her on the cheek as I grabbed my jacket and made my way out the door. My rust bucket wasn't elegant, but it was transportation. I hung my jacket in the back seat and drove over to Amanda's house. She didn't live too far from me, in a distance sense, but her home was in a completely different price range from my own modest living quarters.

True, I personally had money coming in now, but I doubted that I'd ever actually be rich.

I grabbed my coat from the back seat and walked up the brick walkway to the door. The doorbell even sounded expensive. I was beginning to feel a little out of my element when an older gentleman answered the door.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pickup Amanda?"

"You're the girl who's taking her on a date?" The confusion on his face was evident. What he knew and what he saw were at odds.

"No, I'm the transgendered boy who is."

He blinked a couple of times and then smiled. "You're a boy?"

"Yes."

"Come in then," he said stepping out of the doorway. I think I heard him mutter something like, "Lesbian my ass," but that could have been just me.

I waited for a minute or two for Amanda to make her entrance, and what an entrance it was. I didn't remember ever having told her that I preferred redheads, but she'd heard somewhere and remembered because her hair was the most glorious shade that I'd ever seen. Sure, it was out of a bottle, but I really didn't care. Her beauty took my breath away and made me want to slay dragons.

She came to a dead stop when she saw me. She was a little shocked, I could tell, but I don't think that's all that happened. I think she realized for the first time on an emotional level that I was a boy.

I could tell she liked what she saw.

"Hey, Bran."

"You ready to go?"

"Yep. See you later, Daddy."

"Just a minute, don't I get to know your plans?"

"Dinner," I say with a smile, "Maybe a movie later."

"Just so long as there's no parking planned, I'm fine with that."

I was confused for a minute or two before it occurred to me what he was say. "I don't think you need to worry about your daughter's virtue."

"I better not."

We made our exit at that point and I escorted her to my car. It might look terrible on the outside, but at least it was clean on the inside. We drove to the restaurant where I opened her door for her. She'd been quiet the entire ride, and I hoped it wasn't anything I'd done. She kept stealing glances at me, smiling whenever our eyes met.

"So," I said, offering my arm, "You're awfully quiet tonight."

"Well, I know you told me you were a boy, but at school it sort of seems like a joke. Sure, you're butch, but you could pass as a girl."

I was quiet, letting her form her thoughts into sentences.

"Here, though, tonight, you're a guy, and it's sorta turning me on."

"What?" I choked out.

"No need to be embarrassed. You're hot."

"Well, I love your hair."

"Really? I'd hoped you would. I remember you saying once you liked redheads."

"I do that."

We got into the restaurant and I redeemed our reservations. We had a table for two with a candle in the center. I could tell that she was worried at the price range on the menu, so I tried to ease her worry. From horrible pity dates I'd gone on with a boy here or there I knew how difficult that it could be from the other side of the table.

"So, Amanda, I was thinking of getting the steak with lobster tail. Is there anything that catches your eye?"

I intentionally picked the most expensive item on the menu. At the restaurant we were currently sitting in that plate ended up costing thirty-five dollars. I smiled at her when she looked a little shocked at me.

"I'm on salary and I live at home. What else would I spend my money on but a beautiful girl?"

"A new car?"

"Well, the one I have works, and people tend to underestimate me."

"I can see that."

"So, do you really want the steak and lobster, or were you just being polite to me."

"Steak, yes, but I prefer shrimp to lobster."

"Well, then I'll get the shrimp and steal your lobster."

I grinned at her and she leaned across the table a bit. I leaned into her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Kissing someone wearing lipstick was a completely different thing to wearing it yourself. You get used to the greasy feeling when you're wearing it, but kissing lips that are wearing it is an entirely different story. They feel slick and soft, and you get the slight taste of lipstick on your tongue.

It was exciting in a way I never imagined it could be. It reminded me I was the guy in the relationship. Someday, hopefully sooner than later, I would begin growing facial hair. I would bulk up, my voice would change.

This kiss seemed a promise of that in a strange way.

We ate dinner and talked to each other. It was pleasant talking to her at the worst of times, but right now, with the candle light playing off the highlights in her red hair, it was electric.

She ended up sharing her shrimp with me by the fork full, so I reciprocated with the lobster. There were giggles and laughter as it was a silly way to eat, but it was also very provocative in an innocent sort of way. I could feel her teeth grating lightly along the fork, and it made me think of other things that would fit in her mouth.

Look, I'm a guy, alright, and while we may not always think about sex, a good looking girl doing interesting things with her mouth are enough to derail even the most dry scientific thought, and I didn't start with anything scientific to begin with, unless you count Chemistry in that concept.

She went to touch up her makeup after we ate while I settled up the bill.

We did end up going to a movie, but to tell the truth I have no idea what it was. This isn't to say that it wasn't any good, but that Amanda is that distracting. I could tell what she wanted from the evening, and I was having a really hard time not just giving in to her. She was rubbing her chest along my arm 'accidentally' and sliding her hand along my thigh. I tell you, that even the most stalwart among you would have found it impossible to watch that movie.

About thirty minutes in, I had to hold her hand just to keep her from stroking me.

Yeah, I get that guys are supposedly the more aggressive when it comes to relations with the opposite sex, but Amanda was insatiable.

IT seemed that no matter what I did, she was intent on either having my hand in her lap or her hand in my lap or both. I splashed water in my face, cold water, to try and get some perspective before I drove her home.

I gave her a nice, if short, kiss on the porch before dropping her off.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
I wasn't unaffected by the events of the evening. I had a very difficult time getting to bed that night as images of the trouble that Amanda and I could have gotten up to persisted in going through my head. She was a beautiful girl and her red hair only enhanced that.

From her dad's reaction to me, though, it was obvious that she thought of me as a girl, a fact that my appearance hadn't dissuaded her from.

I'd had some experience fighting off other boys. As I'd mentioned, the other dates I went on were generally just terrible. Some of them were before I realized I was a boy, so I just thought it was the boy, and tried to go with other boys to see what type of boy I liked.

Ugh, even the though now seems too girly for me.

I tried; I really did, to be a girl. I tried wearing dresses and skirts, makeup and earrings and jewelry.

I can't stand the feel of something pulling on my ears by the way. It feels...weird. I can't really explain it more than that. Dangly earrings are the worst.

Makeup...well...makeup isn't all that bad, I have to admit. It's cool how it can dramatically change your look just with a few swipes of the brush. I think I miss makeup most of all since I started going boy.

Don't misunderstand: Lipstick is a pain in the ass. I'm mostly talking about all of the rest of it.

Luckily for me Sunday was off for me, so I could sleep in. It took a long time until I finally drifted off.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
My phone rang early the next morning, and I cursed under my breath as I searched for it on the night stand. "Hello?"

"Bran?"

"Who else would it be?"

"You're voice sounds deeper on the phone."

"It's probably the fact that I'm half awake and groggy Amanda."

"That must be it. So, about last night..."

I sat there quietly waiting for her to continue. The silence stretched thin, but never quite broke. I looked at my cell a couple of times to make sure I still had a connection.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" I said a bit nastily.

"Why are you doing this, Bran?"

"Why were you trying to seduce me?"

"I wasn't..."

"What do you call your behavior, then? The 'cute' feeding each other food thing. The mauling me in the theater thing."

"I thought you liked the whole thing with the food."

"It was okay, but I didn't see it as a prelude to anything."

"I thought guys were supposed to think about sex all the time," she said with a sneer.

"Oh, believe me; it kept me up half the night. That doesn't mean I'm some sort of man-whore who will be swayed by some killer hips and puppy-dog eyes. I still have a brain, contrary to popular myth, and I don't think with my little man."

"You have a..."

"Not the point, Amanda."

"What is your point?"

"My point is that I don't have to have to screw your brains out even if I really, really want to."

"You want...me?"

"Amanda, you have to realize how sexy you are."

"Well, I...well...no."

"Don't guys ask you out all the time?"

"Not after they find out I'm a lesbian."

"And how do they find out?"

"…well, I tell them…when they ask me out."

"Yeah, I can see how this would be a problem for you: chasing off all the good looking guys because you've put yourself into a little box and labeled yourself."

She laughed at that, and I smiled. I loved making her laugh, even if I just liked her. This was not the love affair of the ages. Sure, she made me happy, and it was fun spending time with her, but I didn't have enough in common with her. I wanted someone who would join me in the mountains on weekends.

I wanted someone who would…be my partner in all my endeavors.

Amanda was too much the rich girl to ever be that. She wanted to be pampered and cared for, and someday she'd find the right girl, or guy, for her.

We talked for a while about inconsequential things before I called an end to the conversation. Breakfast was calling me.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
Saturday I'd gotten a haircut. I wanted something more masculine than my pixie I'd been sporting. It was short and parted. With the changes that had been, too slowly in my opinion, happening to my body the image that looked back at me from the mirror on Monday didn't look like a girl with a boy's haircut. It helped that my eyebrows were a bushy mess, as I'd never gotten them plucked thank goodness. My cheekbones had never been that high in the first place, so without makeup and the first wispy hairs of my beard...

My beard.

Just the thought of it was weird, but at the same time it sent a little thrill through me. I would have my own facial hair. I wouldn't need to shave it, unless I wanted to. And it covered so much less area.

I'd stopped shaving my legs and pits six months ago. It was a hassle that I'd never really gotten into. I think I would be fine with shaving my face. I tried to imagine myself with a beard and mustache, but it didn't really fit. I'd be a clean shaven guy, I decided right then and there.

I tossed on a light blue button shirt and a pair of khaki pants. Sneakers of course were my footwear.

Since I wouldn't be able to really hide my haircut, I decided to go full into 'boy mode' for school. If I couldn't hide, I figured I might as well be myself.

The drive in was uneventful, and even entering the school didn't cause too much of a stir. I stopped by the office.

"Good morning, Delores. You look very good today," I said with a smile. "Is Mr. Henley in?"

Mr. Henley was our assistant principal, and I figured the best one to let know that I would be presenting as a boy from now on. Delores was the secretary. She was over eighty, or at least I assumed from her start white clothing and the old-lady clothing she always wore.

"Go on in, Raven."

"Please, Delores, I've told you my name is Bran."

"Until your records say 'bran' on them, I'll call you Raven. You did know it is a gender neutral name, right? I checked."

"Fine, I'll get my records changed then. Have a nice day."

She wasn't a bad sort, just a stickler for the rules. I guess she considered herself part of the principal staff of the high school, which to a degree she was. It was her duty to see that things ran smoothly in the office. All things considered, that really was fine by me.

"Good morning, Mr. Henley."

"Morning, Bran. What can I do for you?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm going to be presenting as male from now on."

"Thank you for the heads up, Bran. You have your carry letter?"

"I do."

"Then get to class, young man. I hope I don't see you in here again for a very long time."

"I'll do my best," I said with a chuckle.

The first person I really saw upon exiting the office was Amanda. I went up to her and gave her a quick kiss. "Hello, beautiful."

"Bran...you can't do that..." She said looking around at the other students.

"Amanda, have you really looked at me yet this morning?"

"You're...a boy."

"Got it in one, babe," I said with a little laugh.

She kissed me that time and was smiling when we broke apart. "Does this mean you're my boyfriend?"

"Well, why not? We are dating, aren't we?"

She just smiled and nodded at me.

"Hey, faggot!"

I turned with an incredulous look at the source of the voice. One of the football players was flanked by a couple of his buddies and they were all chuckling.

"Hey, Chucklehead, you just saw me kiss my girlfriend right?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have called you a dyke."

"Do I look like a girl to you?"

"Um..." he began, but then his friend said, "I'd do you."

I had to laugh as everyone in the hall turned and looked at him. He turned bright red and said, "What?"

"That's not the point, Raven"

"The name's Bran, you neaderthalesque statue of fat and muscle."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, I forgot to mention your bone encrusted skull."

"Dude, she's insulting you."

"She?" I replied. "I'm a boy, you moron."

"If you were really a boy, I'd pummel you, Raven."

"My name is Bran Half-elven, Prince of Ravens. I've lead men into battle, men who were worth the name, not little bully-boys like you. I've removed men from battle who were worth more than the three of you put together.

"I'm a blacksmith by trade and a swordsman by avocation. I'm an expert in the sword and shield, but I can use my fists equally well, and if you really want to test me, I'll take the three of you on, right here, right now."

They started laughing at me, but I only glared. The lead Cro-Magnon looked at his friends and then threw a punch as he turned around. He probably thought it was clever, but I saw the tension in his body that was at odds with his seemingly relaxed gesture.

I kicked him in the balls. "That's not fair," thing two said.

"There is no fair in war," I sneered at him. I punched him in the stomach and then kneed him in the face when he bent over.

I swept the legs out from under thing one and kicked him in the stomach.

I turned back to the kitty in the middle with his jewels in his hands and was advancing to finish the job when I heard a voice behind me say, "Bran! My office! Now!"

   >8D   >8D   >8D
When he said now, I think he meant when my mom arrived. Mr. Henley left me sitting in the office where Delores periodically gave me a disappointed look. Finally, after an eternity of minutes, the door opened and a limping thing one came out.

He must have come in through the exterior door to the office as I never saw him. Why he didn't leave the same way, I don't know.

"Bran!" came a voice of command from the room.

I slipped in and closed the door behind me, "It wasn't my fault, Mr. Henley. They..." I'd had my back to the man and finally turned to see him smiling at me.

"Sorry, had to at least keep some appearances up. I take it you're not hurt?"

"What?"

"We have a no tolerance policy with bullying in the school."

My stomach fell out from under me, "Sir..."

"Oh, no, don't worry. There is a self-defense clause in the policy. I don't think they ever considered that the defender would be quite so...skilled...but they assaulted you verbally first and then threw the first punch."

I began to smile a little bit until he glowered at me.

"This is no laughing matter, Bran. You are a lot stronger than you think you are. You ruptured one of Monroe's testicles, you broke Lewis' nose, and you cracked three of Evan's ribs."

"I didn't hit them that hard."

"Yes, you did. It may not have felt like it, but you did. I heard you're on testosterone?"

"Yeah?" I said. I was a little confused at where the conversation was now going.

"Are you working out as much as you did before you started?"

"Well, yeah. It's a good habit to have."

"Think about that for a moment, Bran. We talked about how much you work out at the beginning of the year last year."

I'd always had a good relationship with Mr. Henley ever since I'd taken a stint as an office aide my freshman year. I made sure to stop in and talk with him at least once a week. He was the first one I told that I was a boy.

"It's not that much, really. Just a couple of hours a day. Less now with my job at the forge."

"The Forge?"

"I got an apprenticeship as a black smith. I told you that."

"So, you either spend a couple of hours pumping iron or making it every day. You're now on the natural equivalent of anabolic steroids, at least where your body is concerned..."

"Oh, Shit."

"Yes, you need to realize that you hit hard, Bran. That is why I wanted to talk to you. I saw how they reacted when you hit them. You might be skinny, but you have an impact on those around you."

I smiled at his pun.

"It helps that they attacked you three on one, and that we have cameras in the hallway that captured the entire event. Just try not to come to blows with anyone again, okay?"

I nodded, but I was subdued for the rest of the day. I'd kept working out because I wanted to bulk up. That hadn't worked out, but I'd shed body fat and kept my muscle. Now...

I'd realized that the tasks at the forge were getting easier, and that I fatigued a lot slower, but I'd never realized just how much that meant to my physique. I didn't want to permanently damage anyone, and I'd done that to at least one of the other boys.

I was worried about them pressing charges. I knew that Mr. Henley hadn't brought the police in, but it was always a possibility that one of the other boy's fathers would want to press charges.

Isn't that the way it always goes? They never pay attention to their sons while they're bullying the other kids, but as soon as their precious baby is the one at the receiving end, they close ranks and call in the police.

That was a worry for another day I decided as I got ready for bed later that evening.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
"Raven Monroe?"

"I'm Bran Monroe," I said showing the officer my carry letter. I haven't been able to legally change my name yet, but my carry letter reads I'm to be referred to as a boy called Bran.

"Could you come with us?"

"You know I'm still a minor? If I'm being arrested I'd like to have my mother present."

"You're not being arrested. We just want to talk to you."

"I'd like to have my mother present at any conversations we have."

The officer looked a bit put out by this, but he just nodded and gestured for me to follow him. We went to the office and I took a seat while the officers called my mom.

Then we sat there like three statues while we waited for her.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Are you Linda Monroe?"

"Yes?"

"Your...son...was involved in an altercation here on Monday. We wanted to ask...him some questions."

"Bran?"

"It's okay, mom. I just wanted you present. You are my legal guardian after all," I said with a smile.

She relaxed a bit and the officers began asking me questions.

"We'd like to hear your side of the events that happened on Monday."

"I kissed my girlfriend good morning, Monroe called me a faggot. I mentioned that I'd kissed a girl so he then called me a dyke. I pointed out I was a boy to which Lewis replied that he'd 'do' me.

"Monroe continued to verbally assault me to which I replied that I was capable of defending myself."

"Did you call yourself a prince?"

"I play in a historical re-enactment group."

"Like the SCA?"

"Something like that. I was using that to mention that I was capable of fighting them. Monroe laughed at me and threw a punch. I put him out of the fight in the most expedient manner possible."

The other officer snorted at that.

"Lewis came at me from the right side so I put him out of the fight. Evan came at me next and I was in the process of removing him from the fight when it was halted by Mr. Henley."

"You do realize that Monroe Akles suffered grievous bodily harm?"

"Officer, let me ask you a question: If Monroe had threatened me with a gun and I had killed him with my bare hands would we be having this conversation?"

"Well..."

"I mean, unless I'm off base here, that would be a clear-cut case of self defense."

"Well...probably.

"So, three guys who are all a foot taller than me, outweigh me by fifty to a hundred pounds each, and are in the process of attacking me come at me and I get questioned about grievous bodily harm? I could have killed any one of them with my bare hands officer."

"Is that a threat?" the second officer said, putting his hand on his gun.

"No, just a statement. I would never threaten an officer of the law. I work as a blacksmith."

"More of your fantasy?"

"No, I actually work as a blacksmith. My boss is Gregor van der Melten. He runs the 'Done in Black' studio just outside of town. I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"Well, I think that's all we need."

I was taken aback a little by that. I was sure I was in trouble when the officers came to get me from class.

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it. Sorry to worry you. We just needed your statement. We saw the video and checked with a couple of other students and they all agreed with you on the salient points. "

"Okay," I said a little stunned. I'd expected a lot more hassle with this, and other than my attitude the whole thing had gone over easily. I shook hands with the officers and they thanked me for my time.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
The sun was going down behind the trees. I looked behind me to make sure that my bodyguard was still with me. His green face grinned at me and his teeth shone white in the gathering gloom. Without warning a small group of humans charged us from the left.

"Take the prince! The big one is of no use to us. Kill him!"

I drew my sword and Gregor drew his long club.

"No Quarter!" I yelled out, even though it was only Gregor and I.

The humans looked around as if expecting some ambush of their ambush. I only wished I'd had that foresight. I took two of the eight before they turned back around realizing that it was a ruse. Arrows from the tree line struck Gregor and he went down. I got another two of the rebels before the remaining four had me surrounded and took my sword from me.

"There's someone who would very much like to meet you."

They blindfolded me and led me off into the woods

Bran has a lot to sort out with his life.

There is something inherently disorienting about walking in the dark. I'm not talking about walking in a darkened room, especially not one you are used to like your bedroom at home. I'm talking about walking somewhere completely black; somewhere you're not familiar with. The human being is used to the set of conditions that it uses every day. That means a sighted person suddenly relieved of that sight is at a distinct disadvantage to their normal condition.

As I walked in that darkness I tried to keep track of how far we'd traveled, but steps merged into one another, breaths became ragged, and everything took on a dreamlike quality. I strained my ears, trying to get some clue of where we were going. There was some whispering going on back and forth between my captors, but none of it was loud enough for me to make out.

Still the walking continued. In that timeless space it seemed that I'd been walking forever. When they finally removed the blindfold, I realized that it couldn't have been more than an hour.

"So," a voice said from behind me, "we have before us the prince of the elves."

I turned and saw the last person I expected to see in charge of a rebellion. "Daniel?"

"At your service, my liege," he said with a little smirk.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I thought for sure I was being taken to the fae."

His smile twitched minutely and I realized that my arrow had hit its mark. The rebellion was being supported by the fae. "You do realize that you're being played for fools, right? The humans and elves are unified."

"The humans are slaves."

"Is that what they told you? Sure, some of your countrymen refuse to accept the change in reality, but they're not slaves, they're prisoners."

"They are still forced to work for their elven masters."

I laughed, it was just too much. "Is that what you think? The greatest number of these 'slaves' as you call them work in the human palace where the King still rules."

He opened his mouth to speak but one of his men jumped forward, "You lie! I served in the castle."

I looked at him for a moment before I walked quickly over and grabbed his right arm and lifted his sleeve. "I see no brand on you."

"I washed it off."

"Warden!" I yell out. "Oh, man." I hear someone whine. Everyone relaxes as we wait. "So, Daniel, really roughing it I see."

"Yeah, but it's not that I wanted it this way. From what I hear the attack on King's Cross was masterful."

I smile at the compliment. A gentleman in modern clothing finally waddled into the camp site. No, I don't mean to say that as an insulting comment. He weighted about four hundred pounds, or so it seemed, and he rolled form side to side as he walked.

"What is the complaint," he said in a nasal voice.

"Bran is complaining that Eldred isn't wearing his slave brand."

"Ok, let me check the rolls....Eldred...Eldred...Eldred...nope, no slave brand required."

I glared at the man, Eldred, and he had the decency to blush, "you know, you could have just admitted that you lied."

"Hey, none of that," the Warden said. "That all you need me for?"

"Yes," Daniel said with a little smile.

"Then game on."

We walked back to our previous positions, "You don't have a slave brand."

"Ok, so maybe I heard it from someone who heard it. It's not right what they're doing, Daniel."

"It's not about right and wrong, it's about freedom, Eldred. We're fighting for our independence."

"Is that what the fae told you? They just want to enslave all of us."

"We're not discussing this right now. Will you give your parole?"

"No," I said, "I fully plan on trying to escape."

"Boys, tie him up."

I did what I could to make sure that they didn't tie me too well. Unfortunately they knew what they were doing, and soon I was well trussed.

I just smiled at all of them. This was going to be fun. It would be difficult, sure, but there was an element of fun in it for me as well.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
The guard that they'd left watching me nodded off again. He sat up with a start a moment later and stood to walk around a bit. I was between him and the fire so he had to look into the flames to see me. That was all to my advantage.

I'd slipped my bonds a couple of hours ago and gotten a little sleep. The guard was beginning to lose consciousness on his feet. I smiled a closed mouth smile at him. My teeth would probably show against the darkness of my face even with the backlighting.

He sat down after a few moments and nodded off again.

I leapt to my feet and ran. After getting outside the light from the fire I changed direction. We'd walked mostly uphill to get to the camp, so I ran uphill from the camp figuring that they'd expect me to take off directly toward where I assumed the Greenwood to be.

As soon as the campfire was out of sight I dropped into a hollow behind a tree and brought my breathing under control. I lay there, smiling up at the stars through the leaves. Everything had gone better than I thought it would, which was why I should have expected what happened next.

I heard a crashing through the trees and tried to still my breathing. I was doing my best not to make any sound whatsoever. They grew closer and I held my breath. Daniel walked around the tree where I hid looking around into the darkness. He didn't see me where I hid in the deeper shadows under the tree. He moved and the noises from the other individuals moved off with him.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and settled in for a long night.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
A ray of sunlight peeking through the leaves woke me up with a start. I'd been asleep longer than I'd hoped to be. I looked around me, and there weren't any rebels to be seen. I got to my feet and began my escape. I'd hoped that I would be able to slip out around dawn, but now I was wandering through a well-lit almost noon-day forest.

I dropped to the ground a couple of times when I thought I heard movement. I didn't realize how lost I was until I ran into the fence. The entire perimeter of the land we played on was enclosed in a simple chain link fence. The fence had a couple of notice signs on our side that would direct people to places of note. I wasn't the first person to get lost after all.

I followed the fence until I got to the notice for Kelethin and struck off into the woods. Soon I was back into familiar surroundings.

"Bran's back!"

I smiled. The more life changes, the more it stays the same.

"I need an escort of soldiers. I'm going to report important information to the Queen."

"Not without me you don't," Gregor said descending the ladder nearest me.

"I'd never go without you, old friend."

   >8D   >8D   >8D
It was close to four o'clock when we got to King's Cross and entered the palace. I sent my soldiers to get something to drink and Gregor and I entered the throne room alone.

"Mother, Father, the fae have been supporting the rebellion."

"We'd wondered why their members never appeared at the human resurrection ritual," the King said.

"Husband, I think we might have to increase those rituals in frequency. We might be able to catch some of them before whatever ritual the fae are performing."

"Next time, my Queen. It's unfortunately time for us to begin packing."

"You're right. Bran, we're not going to be here next time."

"Where will the two of you be?"

"Honeymoon. We considered doing the whole LARP wedding thing, but in the end I think it is better for both of us if we get away from this for a bit. Too involved and all that," the King said.

I smiled at the two of them, "Congratulations, then, and good luck."

"Thank you, Bran. You're in charge of both nations for the next weekend event. You're going to need luck more than either of us," the queen said.

"Come, Gregor, let's go pack up the forge and get ready to go home."

   >8D   >8D   >8D
I walked into a dead house. The air felt a little stale, as if no one had been there for a while. "Mom?"

There was no answer. Mom was never gone from home, except when she was at work, and I'd never known her to work on a Sunday once. The house had never been left empty for more than a few hours, except on the rare occasions that we'd actually gone on vacation.

I called her phone, but it went right to voicemail. I wasn't worried, yet, but I was working my way there. For some reason, I still don't know why, I decided to turn on the TV.

I flipped idly through the channels until I got to a news program, "...word as yet about the causes of the fire at Come out an' Play a club known locally as a hangout for the LGTB crowd. More than fifty individuals perished in the fire initially with almost thirty succumbing from their wounds since the fire Friday evening."

"Is there any mention of this being a hate crime, Janice?"

"The police and fire inspectors are keeping a pretty tight lid on the results of their investigation so we don't even know if this is arson, let alone whether this was motivated by any sort of antipathy toward the LGTB community."

I shut off the TV at that point and called my mother's cell phone again. I didn't think she would have been in a place like that, but she wasn't here, and hadn't been here for a while.

It went directly to voicemail again.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
I was restless that night. Even when I slept, it was fitfully. I kept waiting for the sound of the door opening and closing, but it never happened. When I woke up on Monday morning I went into my mom's room to make sure she hadn't slipped in at some point when I'd dozed off.

Her bed was still un-slept in, and her phone still went to voicemail. I tried to GPS her, but her phone was off. For the first time since I entered high school I skipped. The longer that I went without hearing anything, the more worried I became.

At about ten in the morning I called the police.

"I'd like to report a missing person?"

They took her information. They asked me why I'd waited this long to report her missing. I told them where I'd been and who to contact for information about it. They said someone would be in touch.

Eleven o'clock came and went, then noon, and still the phone went to voicemail.

Close to one o'clock in the afternoon there was a knock on the door. I went to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Raven Monroe?"

"Yes, I'm Raven." I didn't want to get into my name with the police right now. Legally I was still Raven.

"I'm Detective Green and this is Detective White."

"Pleased to meet you Sam and Dean." They looked at me as if I were insane. I laughed and gestured them inside.

"So, is this about my mom?"

"In a way, yes."

"In a way?"

The two officers looked at each other and then back at me. "Someone matching your mother's general description was seen at the Come out an' Play on Friday night."

"Her general description?"

"If she was there..."

"There's no way to really say this easily. If your mother was there, she was dressed as a man."

"Go mom," I whispered to myself.

"You said general description..."

"Many of the people inside the club were badly burned and we're having trouble identifying them."

I felt an emptiness fill my stomach. "You mean..."

"There's still a possibility that your mother is somewhere else, but if she was still at the club when the fire started..."

There were no tears. Somehow, from the moment that I heard the news report I knew that something was terribly wrong.

"There's no possibility she's alive?"

"Oh, sorry, we identified the dead bodies already from dental records. We have three individuals who were trampled and burned. All three are hanging in there. One was a woman."

"Was?"

"She sustained second and third degree burns over most of her body. They don't think she'll make it."

"Can I see her?"

"She's not lucid. They wanted us to get your mother's blood type and a sample of her DNA for comparison."

I provided what they were looking for and I sat there in the empty house after they left. Sure, I'd fought with my mom about a lot of things, what teenager, boy or girl, doesn't? Even the most 'well behaved' teen argues with their parents at some point or another. It's part of growing into adulthood. That didn't mean I really wanted to live my life without her.

I'd already lost my dad when I was a kid. Would I be losing my mom now too? I had a little over a week before my eighteenth birthday. It was a mess, but I had the means, luckily, to see my way out of it.

I went to the yellow pages and went to the 'L's. Under Lawyer, I looked until I found a nice add that wasn't one of the full-page spreads.

"Thompson and McGee, how may I direct your call?"

"I need to become an emancipated minor. My eighteenth birthday is in a week and a bit, but my mom is missing and possibly in a hospital dying."

"Um...let me get Mr. Thompson on the line. Hold please."

I held and listened to the muzak on the line. "Hello, this is Frank Thompson."

"Hello, Mr. Thompson. Did the receptionist explain what is going on?"

"She said something about you needing to become an emancipated minor in a week?"

"Mostly I need something that prevents me from going into the system until my birthday on the thirteenth. I'll be eighteen then."

"Well, I could easily refer you to a pro bono attorney..."

"Are you qualified to handle this, Mr. Thompson?"

"Yes, but..."

"How much do you charge per house for something like this?"

"I charge fifty to seventy and hour, usually."

"How much is your retainer?"

"Five hundred."

"Check or cash."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you prefer check or cash for payments? I can do either, I just want to make sure what I need to bring."

"How old are you really. You sound thirteen."

"I am a seventeen year old female-to-male transsexual. I started taking testosterone three months ago. I don't want whatever legal guardian the state appoints to screw that up."

"Um..."

"I can call someone else if you can't handle this."

"No, I can handle this. I have an opening on Wednesday at noon, would that work for you?"

"I'm still a senior in high school, Mr. Thompson. After school is preferable."

"Why are you out of class today then?"

"My mother was likely in that fire on Friday. I was trying to track her down."

"Oh...how about we do this tonight at five then. I suppose that will work?"

I agreed but I wondered where the sudden willingness to rearrange his schedule came from. Likely it was related to my mentioning the fire. He was probably looking for some free publicity, and I'd probably talk to him about his rates with that in mind later this evening. I just hoped that I'd picked someone who was competent enough to handle my case.

   >8D   >8D   >8D
Around four I grabbed the spare keys for the SUV and drove downtown to where the club was located. It only took me a little while to find the SUV where it was parked in a lot four blocks away. Lucky for me it was one of the few free parking lots in the area so I wouldn't have to mortgage my home for having the car parked there for three days. I left the rust bucket there and drove the SUV to my appointment.

I was on the insurance for it, so I could legally drive it. Getting the car this way, though, almost seemed like cheating. I parked outside the offices of Thompson and McGee and sat there in the car. The more evidence I found, the more it looked like I'd just lost my mom.

Still the tears wouldn't come. No, it wasn't some macho male thing. Guys are still human and it's only this societal preconception that won't accept a guy crying. I don't believe in that.

The problem was the tears just burned my eyes and wouldn't spill forth. I don't know whether it was the shock of it all or the fact that even now I couldn't really believe my mom was gone. She was so alive. She made life fun, even when I didn't agree with her. I knew how I could live without her, I had a plan, but it was the living without her part that got me. How could life actually go on wither her in it?

I admit it; I was a momma's boy. I loved my mother and I'd kick the ass of anyone who had a problem with it.

I just sat there staring out at the parking lot in front of the strip mall where the offices where located, my hands gripping the steering wheel, and waiting for time to tell me it was okay to get up and go inside the offices.

At five 'til five I got out of the car and walked inside.

"Hi, my name is Bran Monroe. I have an appointment with Mr. Thompson for Five O'clock."

The receptionist was nineteen or twenty and smoking hot. I wondered briefly if she was hired for her looks.

"Let me check to see if he's free." She pressed a button on her phone and then spoke into the handset, "Dad, Bran Monroe is out here...I'll send him right in."

Well, I guess that answered that question. I smiled at her and then followed the directions she gave me into the back. The outside may have been a strip mall, but inside they were well furnished, and it actually felt like an upscale office.

The office on the left was open when I arrived. I knocked on it even so. "Come in, Bran," an older man said as he got up from behind the desk. He offered a hand and I returned his firm handshake. "Would you please have a seat?"

I sat in one of the indicated chairs and he perched on the edge of his desk. He could have seemed like he was trying to intimidate or take the position of authority in the conversation, but his posture more said that he was just chatting with a friend.

"Before we begin, I'd like to see some ID. Not that I dispute that you're who, and what, you say you are, I just need to cover my bases, you understand, right?"

I presented my license and my carry letter. He looked over them for a moment and then handed them back.

"So, Bran, are you looking to legally change your name before or after we take care of your guardianship."

"We can do that?"

"Changing your name isn't directly related to your gender. People change their names all the time for all sorts of reasons. That is something we could handle as its own process."

"Sure, but I'm more worried about my guardianship standing, personally."

"I understand that. With what's going on in the news right now, it would seem transitioning isn't as easy as one would hope."

"All I know about is the club fire."

"Oh, it wasn't just a fire. They're not talking to the media, but I already have some civil suits I'm pursuing against the city for that. It's part of the reason I moved you up. Your case actually helps me."

I try to smile and Mr. Thompson actually laughs. "I know. It seems cold blooded of me. It is when viewed from a certain angle. Three people were raped, two were knifed to death. That was before the doors were locked and the outside was set on fire."

I just stared at him, shocked.

"If I bring an injunction against the court taking action to appoint a guardian for you for the next week or so, as you're a transgendered teen who is affected by what happened that gets me pull. That get's more attention on the other victims that aren't as obvious."

"What do you mean?"

"Those weren't just members of the LGTB community who were attacked. They had families. Mothers and Fathers, brothers, sisters, children," he gestured at me as he said the last bit.

"I just want to transition in peace, Mr. Thompson."

"I'll insist that your name is kept out of the press. Is it all right if I refer to you as 'an unnamed transgendered teen'?"

"Sure. Just never mention that I'm Female to Male and I'll be fine."

"Hmmm…probably be best if I say, 'My Client' instead of him or her. That will keep it more ambiguous."

"So, am I your client?"

"Sure, Bran. Just leave the money with Tracey on your way out. I'll contact you when we need to be in to court. I'll sent in the injunction tomorrow morning on your behalf, and make a petition that I be placed in loco parentis for the short term."

"Um…"

"It means that I be appointed your temporary guardian in legal matters."

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me until we win, Bran. Chin up. I know a lot came at you all at once, but it will get better from here, I'm sure of it."

I went back out to the front and pulled five hundred dollar bills from my wallet. "Your dad is intense, Tracey."

"He can be." She filled out a receipt for me which I put back in my wallet.

"So, where does a kid your age get five hundred at a moment's notice?"

"I'm an apprentice to a local blacksmith."

"Did you just say…"

"Yeah. Some people like authentic arms and armor for historical recreations in the medieval and renaissance period."

"Can't they just get replicas?"

"It's just a replica then. Some of the pieces we make go for upwards of a thousand. A replica might go for half that."

"You don't look strong enough."

"One of my curses," I said with a winning smile. "I can't bulk up. I was getting close to bench pressing four hundred pounds before I stopped that altogether."

"Prove it."

"How, I don't see anything to lift."

"Well, how about me?"

She walked around the desk. She was an inch or two shorter than me at the time. She lifted her arms a bit. I put my hands to either side of her waist and lifted. She was a little more solid than she looked, but she couldn't have been more than one sixty. She must have had a solid bone structure. She had a killer figure, and my hands could just about meet at her waist.

I held her there about a foot off the ground for about a minute before she began giggling.

"I can keep holding you here if you want."

She just shook her head and I gently lowered her to the ground.

"If it weren't against my dad's policy I'd kiss you right now."

"No dating clients?" I guessed.

"That's the one. You are a lot stronger than you look."

"I'll take that as a compliment, all things considered."

"I need to sit down."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm wearing a corset, a really tight one. Lifting me like that…well…I'm a bit out of breath if you know what I mean."

I laughed. To each they're own, I thought. Apparently all it took was a reasonably strong guy to get her in the mood. She got me in the mood just looking at me. We were almost a match made in heaven.

"Thanks for helping me."

"Anytime, and you can lift me whenever you like," she said with a wink.

I laughed again and walked out the door.

I drove the SUV back home. The officers were there waiting for me.

"Raven…we have some news for you."

"What is it?"

"The woman in the burn unit isn't your mom. The blood type was wrong."

   >8D   >8D   >8D
I was trying to catch my breath. My mom wasn't dying. She wasn't dead. Where was she?

"What does this mean?"

"We know for a fact that your mom was at the club."

"I know. I found her car four blocks away."

"Where was it parked?"

I gave them the address, "My car is still there. Could I get a lift after this to retrieve it? I can show you right where it was parked."

"Let's go right now."

I climbed into the back of their nondescript black car and they drove me back into the city. We parked by my little rust bucked and they got some additional information. They asked a couple of strange questions after that.

"Your mom…had she had a complete hysterectomy?"

I nodded. "There were complications with my birth."

They looked at each other and then thanked me for my time. They left without answering any of my questions.

I drove home in silence, a small sliver of hope creeping into the bleakness that was my life right now. I called Gregor as soon as I got home, "Where are you?"

"My mother is missing. She might have been involved with whatever happened at the club."

"You mean the Come out an' Play? What scares me is that if this hadn't been a weekend event, I might have been there. A lot of my friends died on Friday night."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I take it you won't be in tonight then?"

"Will it help?"

"It's helping me a little. I could get some bigger pieces done if you were here."

"Be right over then."

I changed into my work clothing and tossed my leather apron in the back of the SUV. I drove out to the farm and threw myself into my work. The detectives had my cell phone this time, so they'd call me if anything came up.

We were working on a full suit of armor. We'd finished the legs last week and were working on the front half of the breastplate now. It took a lot of strength to keep it in place.

"How did you do this without me?"

"C Clamps…and…a lot…of patience. This task…took me…about…four times…as long."

I smiled and stopped talking to him. It was a little strange listening to him time his talking with his hammer blows. We finished the front and back of the breastplate before we called it a night. It was a little after midnight at that point so I drove home to get some much needed sleep.

I was asleep shortly after climbing into bed.