I was thinking about Drow lore in the classic D&D settings, and Rosie and Stella in particular, who are canonically and textually trans, and this was maybe the funniest thing I could think of. Happy Pride!
*
Griselda Muneshyl was not a sexist. She was rather proud of this, actually. Although the drow of antiquity believed that boys were functionally useless as anything other than breeding stock or sacrifices to the great god Lolth, Griselda was a contemporary drow. A modern drow. Why, it flew in the very face of reciprocity to have an entire gender that was no good. Senseless.
…But even so.
Griselda looked over her twin sons’ school reports and sighed heavily. The eldest acting out, playing pranks; the youngest interrupting and acting a know-it-all constantly. She was not a sexist. But she was important, and by extension so were her sons, and if they couldn’t behave, set a good example, become the paragons of Muneshyl Supply that Drow society expected…
Well, people would talk, and reciprocity be damned. They would simply choose not to extend courtesies or business to the Muneshyl boys, and it wouldn’t be because they were boys, no of course not. It would be a passive choice. Her boys would spend their lives working twice as hard for half as much respect, and if they didn’t start that work now, then how much respect could they expect?
Griselda worried.
A knock at her office door brought her out of her anxiety spiral. She looked up. “Come in.”
Her youngest, prim and proper as always, slipped through the doorway and stood with razor-sharp posture before her. “Mother, we have an announcement.”
He was always a little self-important. “Can it wait?”
The boy frowned. “No.”
Griselda stood up. “You’re sure?”
“It’s important,” he insisted, and held the door open. “We’re in the big parlor.”
Griselda made her way leisurely to the aforementioned parlor, where her eldest was standing, fit to burst in excitement. Her youngest joined him, a study in contrasts. Griselda took her time settling into her accustomed chair, folding her hands carefully. “What is your announcement?”
“Our announcement is—” her eldest began.
“You said I could say it,” her youngest insisted.
“Oh, right, I forgot.” Her eldest had something else planned, Griselda could tell, and beamed in anticipation.
Her youngest cleared his throat. “Mother, we have been considering things for a long time. Important things. Several important things.”
“So many things,” the elder twin added.
“And we have come to the conclusion that we are girls.”
The eldest threw a handful of shredded paper in the air. “Surprise! We’re girls!”
The younger turned on her twin furiously. “You said no confetti! You promised no confetti!”
“But you got to say the thing!” the eldest argued. “That’s reciprocity!”
“No it isn’t!”
Griselda could feel every muscle in her back relaxing. She didn’t have to worry about sons. She just had to raise daughters. Thank Lolth.
“Girls, is it?” is what she said.
Her daughters stopped arguing and turned back to her, nodding furiously.
“Well, thank you for letting me know,” Griselda said. “Do you have names for yourselves?”
“Stella,” said her youngest decisively, while the eldest practically sang, “Rosie!”
“Good choices.” She spread her arms. “I am so proud of you both.”
Her daughters ran into her arms, and Griselda finally stopped worrying. What a relief.