The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Both

"Lark, are you just...having a laugh at me? Is it funny trying to embarrass me?" But even as Able said it, he knew it was neither true nor fair.

"Why would the way I dress be about you? Be about trying to embarrass you?" His lips were pressed tight, and he wouldn't meet Able's eyes a moment. But then he pulled his head up again and gave Able an apologetic smile. "I think you should ask yourself, not why it matters, but if it matters. Because maybe it doesn't."

That expression, perfectly honest, retiring yet brave, was what did matter. Who was Able to fling himself into this world and make demands about how it did or didn't seem? Whatever else he...or she? was, Lark was someone who had, despite Able's best efforts, spotted his inadequacies and chosen to accommodate him. So, clearly, his friend. When he was terrible at keeping any.

"...I'm sorry," he gathered up his shame and turned to go.

"Able, I'm not offended," Lark called helplessly after him.

Able stopped and leaned his arm against the door frame and his heavy head on his arm a few breaths. His tired mind recoiled frightfully from the task before it. Lifting his head to shake it was the most he could manage. "I don't think I can ask myself these questions right now."

"That's all right. To be honest, I am curious that you even noticed."

Able turned to frown incredulously at him. "Noticed?"

"Sure, like..." Lark rolled his eyes up thoughtfully. "Most people will see me in a dress the once, and, okay, so I'm a girly. And whatever their reaction to that, that's what they see again, every time they see me."

"And that's..." Able settled against the door frame and took a deep breath. "Not right...and it bothers you?"

"I don't think it bothers me," Lark shrugged again. "I certainly don't expect everyone to keep up with the...the changes. Honestly, I don't think it really matters. I wear what I feel like wearing when I feel like wearing it. I present what I feel like presenting, or acting or whatever, the same way. Maybe it means nothing at all. And I'm always aware how fortunate I am, as here people may not like it, but it's hardly an 'affront to god's order' or anything like that. And then most people like me, and enough of them stand up for me to those that don't. So, you know, I can."

Able heard all he said, but distantly. "And you see no reason to...not?"

"None whatsoever," he affirmed. "Should I make myself miserable for fear someone will make something I do about them? What's the point of that?"

A fair argument. Able's discomfort was his own problem and his own responsibility to address. He'd...known that already. If only he had heeded his own reluctance to broach the topic, he would not be trapped between a door frame and—and whatever Lark was trying to do here.

"So...none of it bothers you? Nothing at all?"

"I don't know..." Lark screwed up his face thoughtfully. "When I was still a kid it was kind of obnoxious that ladies would say stuff like 'Oh, what a darling dress!' and then whisper 'poor traumatized thing' to one another. Like, thanks? I almost preferred the boys who would try to knock me down! But nowadays I think the sticker is that...well, most of the time people refer to me as "he" and most of the time I don't even notice it. But then there are days when people call me "he" and it feels all wrong. That's weird, isn't it?" And he...she? laughed.

"I think that's weird, yes," Able could finally agree. "And I don't know why I noticed when most people don't. Maybe I'm...just observant?"

"You're pretty observant," Lark agreed, then after an awkward pause, he blessedly decided to change the subject. "Did you still want to go down to the docks today to see about mailing your letter?"

Able had forgotten all about that. "...I am the worst son. Yes, I will go do that before it gets any later."

"Would you like me to—"

"No," Able insisted, perhaps too quickly. "I can find my way. Besides, you don't like Larbant enforcers."

Lark chuckled. "Oh, I don't know about that! They might be perfectly fine people when they're not harassing 'Bors.'"

"You know...I can't actually tell if you're being sarcastic or are simply that good-natured," Able admitted.

"Because it's both. If you're wondering an 'either or' about me, it's probably just both. I am both like that." And Lark chuckled again, but...intimately somehow. As though he were relieved Able had cleared the air. Well, of course, since it seemed he could read Able like an open book. That was the most discomforting thing of all.

"New rule of thumb," Able noted before leaving, his sore legs fortuitously preventing him from doing so too quickly and rudely.