The Gendered Crown: Rise of the Felinor Lady

“I jolted awake, remnants of the dream still hovering. My chest heaved, a sharp, metallic taste lingering in my mouth. Sweat soaked through my skin, clinging my clothes uncomfortably. As I blinked, a priestess hovered over me, her brow furrowed in worry.

“It’s alright,” I rasped, my throat dry. Even speaking hurt, and my voice shook despite my attempt to reassure her.

The priestess’s eyes widened. “You’re soaked!” She glanced at the damp sheets clinging to my body. “Let me check your temperature.”

She pressed her hand against my forehead. Alarm flashed in her eyes. “You’re burning up! We need to get you cleaned up immediately. It’s the only way to bring your temperature down.”

Panic surged within me. I opened my mouth to protest, but the urgency in her voice silenced me. As she helped me sit up, dizziness washed over me.

“Come on,” she urged, her tone firm. “I’ll help you.”

Each step down the stairs felt heavier. The fresh air hit me, offering a brief respite from the feverish haze. But my relief vanished at the sight of the yard.

A wooden fence barely shielded what lay beyond—pools of shimmering water filled with bare bodies, laughter echoing around me. My heart raced painfully in my chest. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t strip down and—

I turned to scramble away, panic rising like bile.

“Wait!” The priestess’s voice sliced through the fog, her grip tightening around my wrist.

But I wrenched free, a surge of unexpected strength propelling me forward. I bolted toward the entrance, desperate to escape this nightmare.

I nearly collided with Myra as she stepped through the doorway. Her eyes widened. “Lira? What’s wrong?”

My throat felt tight. “I—I need to get through!” I stammered, heart racing as panic clawed at me.

The priestess caught up, panting slightly. “You must wash! It’s the only way to get your temperature down!”

Before I could argue, Myra’s face flashed with understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arm around mine in a comforting gesture. “It’ll be fine,” she said softly. “Trust me.”

“I can’t do this!” I pleaded, my voice breaking as we neared the bubbling water. The thought of undressing, of being exposed in front of everyone, twisted knots in my stomach. I couldn’t.

But Myra didn’t listen. She led me straight to the edge of the pool, where the priestess stood, a bucket of water in her hands. Before I could react, the priestess dumped the icy contents over me.

A shock of cold ripped through my body. I gasped, my breath catching as the water drenched me, the sudden temperature change making my skin tingle. My hair fell over my eyes, blinding me for a moment.

“I’m sorry!” the priestess exclaimed; her voice tinged with guilt. She turned to Myra with an apologetic look.

Myra just waved it off, a smirk playing on her lips. “It’s fine! I’m sure this isn’t her first time.”

I shook the water from my face, wiping at my eyes. “I’m not a child,” I muttered under my breath, feeling a twinge of irritation.

Myra chuckled, that soft laugh of hers that somehow made everything seem less serious. “You’re acting like one,” she teased, her voice light as she and the priestess dragged me into the pool. When we arrived they gently lowered me in.

The moment my body sank into the cool water, I felt an immediate sense of relief. The chill soothed the burning fever, calming the fire under my skin. I almost bolted again but despite myself, I started to relax, the tension in my muscles melting away.

The priestess let out a sigh when I began to relax, sinking down to dip her feet into the water. I stared down at the ripples around me, trying to make sense of why I felt so weak, so drained today.

Then, without any warning, Myra stepped into the pool, completely naked.

My eyes widened in shock, and I whipped my head to the side, guilt crashing into me. Why did I look? What was wrong with me? My face burned as if I’d done something unforgivable, as if merely glancing at her had marked me as some sort of predator.

Water splashed as Myra settled into the pool beside me. I could feel her presence, her calm energy, even if I wasn’t looking at her. The priestess turned to me, her voice firm now. “You shouldn’t run like that. The summoning can take an enormous toll on some people, especially if the changes they’re undergoing are more drastic than others.”

I sat in the pool, the cool water washing over me, but my mind felt heavy and chaotic. I barely noticed the priestess speaking to Myra. “I’m glad she’s in the water. It’ll help bring her feel better,” the priestess said, glancing my way with a hint of concern.

Myra nodded; her expression thoughtful. “Do people get sick often?”

“It does happen sometimes,” the priestess replied, her tone serious. “We’ve even had a few pass. It’s a toll that some undergo during their transition. The summoning can strain the body, especially for those like her, whose changes are more drastic.”

I tuned out the rest of their conversation, still grappling with my own internal struggle. How could I accept this world? My heart raced, each beat echoing my fear. Just when I started to feel my heart drop, Myra’s voice broke through. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, my voice coming out more forceful than I intended.

The priestess smiled gently. “Good. I’ll go get a special kind of soap. The ones we use are different from what humans typically have.” She paused, her tone shifting. “You really should get out of those wet clothes.”

Clothes? It took me a moment but then my eyes widened in disbelief, and I shook my head vigorously. “No way! That’s ridiculous.”

Myra, unfazed, arched an eyebrow. “Unless you plan on walking around in dirty, wet clothes all day, you have to.”

I shot back, a quip ready on my tongue. “But they must be clean since we’re in a bath, so there shouldn’t be a problem.” As I looked at Myra while I spoke, my eyes inadvertently wandered, and suddenly, I felt a rush of heat creep up my cheeks. Myra, serene and confident, had her bodice safely submerged below the water, yet the moment felt too intimate.

Myra chuckled at my embarrassment, clearly amused. “Oh, Lira, there’s nothing to worry about. You have a lot of room to grow still.”

I sat in the pool, the cool water washing over me, but my mind felt heavy and chaotic. I barely noticed the priestess return and speak to Myra. “Here, use this to clean yourselves. It has many herbs that help Felinor relax and recover,” the priestess said, glancing my way with a hint of concern.

Myra nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Do people get sick often?”

“It does happen sometimes,” the priestess replied, her tone serious. “We’ve even had a few pass. It’s a toll that some undergo during their transition. The summoning can strain the body, especially for those whose changes are more drastic. Sometimes even the summoners themselves can pass if mortal.”

“Wow, so how bad is she doing compared to others?” Myra asked.

“Well now that we have her in the bath, I believe…” The priestess droned on.

I tuned out the rest of their conversation, still grappling with my own internal struggle. How could I face this new reality? My heart raced, each beat echoing my fear. Just when I thought I might drown in despair, Myra’s voice broke through. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, my voice coming out more forceful than I intended, almost a challenge against my own doubts.

The priestess smiled gently. “You really should get out of those wet clothes.”

Myra shook her head in agreement. "You need to."

I glared at Myra and shook my head vigorously. “No way! That’s ridiculous.”

Myra, unfazed, arched an eyebrow. “Unless you plan on walking around in dirty, wet clothes all day, you have to.”

I shot back, a quip ready on my tongue. “But they must be clean since we’re in a bath, so there shouldn’t be a problem.” As I looked at Myra while I spoke, my eyes inadvertently wandered, and suddenly, I felt a rush of heat creep up my cheeks. Myra, serene and confident, had her bodice safely submerged below the water, yet the moment felt too intimate.

Myra chuckled at my embarrassment, clearly amused. “Oh, Lira, there’s nothing to worry about. You have a lot of room to grow still.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean, grow? I’m already grown.”

Myra’s eyes widened in shock for a moment before a look of realization crossed her face. “Lira, how old are you?”

“That’s kind of rude to ask,” I replied, crossing my arms defensively, not failing to notice some new sensitivities.

Myra remained patient, her gaze steady. “It may be important.”

I hesitated before answering, “I’m 24.”

Her expression shifted to one of surprise mixed with understanding. “Oh… now that makes sense.”

Just then, the priestess returned, and Myra told her my age. The priestess’s eyebrows shot up, and she remarked, “Ah, that being sick makes sense now.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confusion creeping into my voice.

“Look down in the water at your reflection,” the priestess instructed.

I stared at them, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. The truth was, I had been avoiding just that.

As I caught a glimpse of my reflection, my breath hitched. I hardly recognized the girl staring back at me. Dark blue cat ears perched atop my head. I looked almost entirely human, but the green cat eyes peering back at me were unmistakably Feline. That wasn’t the only shock though.

I stared wide-eyed, taking in the smooth skin and youthful features. I looked like a teenager—no older than sixteen, maybe younger. The realization twisted in my stomach. What happened to me? I was supposed to be an adult, yet here I was, trapped in a body that felt like it was still growing, still changing. This isn't just a transformation; it’s an overhaul of who I am.

My heart raced as I felt the heat creep up my cheeks, not just from the water but from the weight of what I was seeing. I can’t believe this is me. My thoughts spiraled. How do I even begin to navigate this new reality? What will people think?

I could feel Myra’s gaze on me, her voice cutting through my thoughts. “It’s okay, Lira. You’re still you. Just… different.”

“Yeah,” the priestess added gently, “this is a lot to take in, but you’re not alone in this.”

Their words barely registered through the chaos in my mind. “I need to get out.” I said, standing up abruptly. The water sloshed around me, splattering onto the sides of the pool as the cold air hit my damp skin.

I felt exposed and vulnerable, staring at a reflection that felt foreign. Now a soaked long blue tail was visible as well. I couldn’t bear to look anymore; I just wanted to escape.

Myra’s hand shot out, gently but firmly grabbing my wrist. “Lira, stop. You’re not well,” she said, her voice calm but unwavering.

The priestess stood next to her, arms crossed, giving me a look that could pierce through stone. “She’s right. You’re burning up, and you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped, yanking my wrist free. “I don’t need help. I just—” I swallowed hard, refusing to meet their eyes. “I just need to be alone.”

Myra stepped closer, her tone softening, but still firm. “You’re not fine, Lira. You’re sick, and staying in these clothes will only make it worse. You don’t want to end up like one of those who passed, do you?”

I opened my mouth to argue, to push back, but something about the way Myra and the priestess looked at me—their faces a mix of concern and resolve—made me hesitate. They weren’t going to back down.

“You’re already exhausted,” the priestess added. “Let us help you.”

I clenched my fists, biting back another retort. I knew they were right, but the idea of being so... vulnerable made me feel cornered. But I couldn’t ignore how drained I felt.

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, looking away. “But I’m doing it myself.”

The priestess gave a small nod and handed me a folded set of clothes, her expression softening. When did she get those ready? I wondered. “We’ll wait outside. Myra will make sure you’re alright.”

I stepped behind one of the alcoves, finding some privacy to change. The exhaustion in my limbs was heavy, but there was something deeper, something unsettling about facing my own body. As I stripped off the wet clothes, the cool air brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I hesitated, catching sight of my reflection in the nearby water.

It wasn’t a body I recognized, not fully. The soft curves, the delicate shape—it all felt foreign. My eyes moved over the unfamiliar lines, and for a moment, I felt a pang of loss. This wasn’t who I had been. It wasn’t me, not yet. I was still learning what it meant to be this.

The priestess had given me a fresh set of clothes, and as I held up the wrap—what they used instead of a bra—my hands fumbled with it. How did this even work? I awkwardly tried to figure out how to wrap it around myself, but the fabric kept slipping. The more I tried, the more frustrated I became. It wasn’t just the confusion of the cloth; it was everything. My fingers trembled as I made a haphazard attempt, but the feeling of being inadequate grew sharper.

“Everything alright in there?” Myra’s voice called out, a gentle concern lacing her tone.

I froze, my heart pounding. “Yeah,” I lied, voice tight. “Everything’s fine.”

I made a decision then—bad, but it felt easier. I left the wrap behind and pulled on the rest of the clothes, stepping out into the open.

Myra’s eyes immediately locked onto me, her brow furrowing as she noticed. “Lira… where’s the wrap?”

I bit my lip and looked away, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. “I don’t need it.”

Her gaze softened, but her voice held a firmness I couldn’t ignore. “Lira, you can’t just skip things because they’re hard. You’re already ill. You need to do this properly.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but her calm, patient stare made the words die in my throat. Myra sighed softly and took a deep breath. She didn’t force her way through, but with a gentle hand, she pushed me back toward the alcove. “Try again. I’ll help if you need it, but you’ve got to try.”

With a frustrated sigh, I picked up the wrap again. It took me a few moments to get the hang of it—adjusting the length, pulling it tight enough but not too tight. Eventually, after several attempts, I managed to secure it around myself, the fabric hugging my chest. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

When I finally came back out, Myra smiled gently. “Good. Now let’s go get some food.”

We made our way to the mess hall, and by the time we sat down, I felt like I had been through another battle. Myra set a plate of food in front of me and one in front of herself. “Eat,” she urged softly. “You need your strength.”

I stared at the plate, my body still trembling slightly from the emotional toll. But I picked up the spoon, knowing she was right.