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intheheartTitle: Passing
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Danny passes.
Warnings: blink-and-miss-it reference to child abuse, period-appropriate sexism.
Notes: Michael is not dead. I refuse to let him die in more than two AUs. He's run away to be a clergyman. HEAR THAT, AU?
Danny had skinned up the neighborhood earl's pear tree and sat in the branches, eating a pear. Trousers were so much better than dresses, even her too-big borrowed pair; in a skirt she could never climb a tree.
"You there!"
She flinched, and parted the branches—good, the man on the horse was not the earl. "Yes?"
"Where is the vicarage?" he demanded. Danny told him, and he nodded, flipped her a coin that sparked gold. "Thank you, boy."
Boy?
She stared down at her trousered legs. Maybe she did look a bit boyish...
Maybe that wasn't a bad thing.
--
After Michael, after Papa left, after Mama beat her, Danny went dry-eyed into her room and put her few possessions together. Her Bible, a scarf, a handkerchief or six, the warm hat Michael had made for her. Such little, simple things. They made up a pitifully small bundle.
All to the better. She would have to move fast.
Mama was sobbing in her room now, her voice harsh and grating. Danny did her best not to hear it as she sawed her hair short, as she pulled on Papa's trousers and did them up.
She just wanted to forget everything.
--
No one suspected her. Why should they? Women didn't do what Danny had done.
It was easier than she'd expected, being a man. She'd played the tomboy all her life; she just went on as she always had, only now she was praised for her behavior, instead of treated as a freak. She swore and spat and fought with the best of them, did her duty well.
If sometimes she missed the conversation of women, the admiring glances of men, being treated as if she was special...
Well. At least as a man, they acknowledged that she had a mind.
--
She was lonely, more than anything else.
She didn't want to be a man, not as some women did. Danny liked being female, liked her breasts and curving hips. She was not particularly fond of monthlies, but they weren't the curse for her that they were for others.
Only... being a woman was so restrictive. Had she stayed outwardly female, she would have been a whore, or perhaps a shopkeeper. As a man she had so many more options, so many more chances to speak.
She just missed people who really knew her.
Ah, well. No one could have everything.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Danny passes.
Warnings: blink-and-miss-it reference to child abuse, period-appropriate sexism.
Notes: Michael is not dead. I refuse to let him die in more than two AUs. He's run away to be a clergyman. HEAR THAT, AU?
Danny had skinned up the neighborhood earl's pear tree and sat in the branches, eating a pear. Trousers were so much better than dresses, even her too-big borrowed pair; in a skirt she could never climb a tree.
"You there!"
She flinched, and parted the branches—good, the man on the horse was not the earl. "Yes?"
"Where is the vicarage?" he demanded. Danny told him, and he nodded, flipped her a coin that sparked gold. "Thank you, boy."
Boy?
She stared down at her trousered legs. Maybe she did look a bit boyish...
Maybe that wasn't a bad thing.
--
After Michael, after Papa left, after Mama beat her, Danny went dry-eyed into her room and put her few possessions together. Her Bible, a scarf, a handkerchief or six, the warm hat Michael had made for her. Such little, simple things. They made up a pitifully small bundle.
All to the better. She would have to move fast.
Mama was sobbing in her room now, her voice harsh and grating. Danny did her best not to hear it as she sawed her hair short, as she pulled on Papa's trousers and did them up.
She just wanted to forget everything.
--
No one suspected her. Why should they? Women didn't do what Danny had done.
It was easier than she'd expected, being a man. She'd played the tomboy all her life; she just went on as she always had, only now she was praised for her behavior, instead of treated as a freak. She swore and spat and fought with the best of them, did her duty well.
If sometimes she missed the conversation of women, the admiring glances of men, being treated as if she was special...
Well. At least as a man, they acknowledged that she had a mind.
--
She was lonely, more than anything else.
She didn't want to be a man, not as some women did. Danny liked being female, liked her breasts and curving hips. She was not particularly fond of monthlies, but they weren't the curse for her that they were for others.
Only... being a woman was so restrictive. Had she stayed outwardly female, she would have been a whore, or perhaps a shopkeeper. As a man she had so many more options, so many more chances to speak.
She just missed people who really knew her.
Ah, well. No one could have everything.
