Chapter Text
Winters in the city were boring.
When she’d been living in the woods, it was one of the most fun times of the year. Johanna had all the snow she could want (and even more) all around her, ready to be turned into snowmen or squished into snow angels or used with snowball fights. The cold was an excuse to light up the fireplace more often, since their solar power boards didn’t make enough energy to get the house as warm as they wanted it. She got to climb the leafless trees and get a better view of her surroundings when she was at the top than when they had all of their greenery.
Now, it was Johanna’s first winter living in the city and she was having to come to terms with it having become just the time of the year at which most of nature was dead. She couldn’t even enjoy the snow that fell on the parks, since her parents didn’t allow her outside of the house alone yet, afraid that a little girl raised in the safety of the wilderness wouldn’t know how to navigate through Trolberg.
The keyword there was ‘alone’, though.
“Wait for me!” She shouted, and her older cousin grunted. It had been only a few weeks since they’d had their first real interactions. Trading five words at once-a-year family events didn’t count. Already, Johanna was feeling like she wasn’t exactly on her cousin’s list of top favourite people, but she was determined to get there. She supposed getting too close to pre-teenagehood would put a damper on anyone’s mood, anyway.
“Why don’t you stay here with the adults for once? I’m just going to go outside to get some air.”
“Because it’s boring and stuffy in here.” Johanna answered, struggling to put her coat and boots on at the same time as she approached the door that was being held open for her. “It’s a lot cooler out there.”
“‘Cooler.’” Her cousin repeated. “That’s an awful joke.”
In response, Johanna gasped and smiled brightly after half a second. “Oh gosh, I’ve made a joke!”
Her cousin gave her an eyeroll. She’d been getting many of those, truth be told. But it was beginning to look more fond than irritated, so she took her wins where she could.
“Let’s go, then. They’ll call us when dinner is ready.”
There was a park close by her aunt and uncle’s apartment, and when their families dined together, her cousin usually took her there.
Not by her own volition, of course. Lydia just always came to the conclusion that accepting that child as her shadow was less trouble than convincing her not to come.
As soon as they arrived, Johanna tried to invite her to a snowball fight, and gotten a very pointed “no” in response. The same happened with the offers to build anything out of snow, or to climb trees. Eventually, Johanna squinted at her.
“You always do this.” She said, sounding like she wanted to put Lydia under a magnifying glass. “Why come if you don’t want to play?”
Lydia had been pretending to pay more attention to the moss on the boulder she was sitting on then to Johanna.
“Because I agree with you. It’s stuffy.”
When her cousin didn’t say anything else, Johanna walked closer, the snow squeaking under her boots with each step.
“Tell me about it.” She said when she was close enough that Lydia could touch her with a slight extension of her leg. “You like the mould.”
“It’s moss.” Another eyeroll, but without as much energy.
“What’s the difference?”
That gave her pause. Lydia blinked, surprised to notice that she didn’t have a ready explanation to an answer she had found obvious.
“Well…” She said after some seconds of thinking, even though Johanna had already turned her gaze to a group of dark birds flying above them. “I think the thing is that mould is fungi, and moss is bryophytes.”
“Bryo what?”
“Bryophytes. It’s a type of plant. There are three other types like this.”
“You like plants too, then?” Johanna bounced on her heels, excited to know that there was someone around who shared her interest and who might talk about it to her and go out with her looking for different flowers when spring came. “I love them! Shame I can never keep mine alive.”
As if seeing Johanna in a new light for the first time, Lydia tilted her head. “Well, I do like nature, in general. I’m a big bug fan, but plants are pretty cool too. I could try to help you next time you want to keep any, if you’d like.”
“I would! What should I do if they start getting all brown and coily around the edges of the leaves?”
Once again having been caught unprepared, her cousin let out a pensive hum. As one usually does when they do not have a good answer for a question, she began going on about generalities of the topic, laying her knowledge out there and hoping it would satisfy the younger child. She’d just been talking about the importance of earthworms to the ecosystem when she realised Johanna was staring at her. Not like a kid looking at a teacher, but like a diviner looking into someone’s soul.
“What is it?” She asked, slightly creeped out.
“The adults make you uncomfortable.” She stated, and for some reason that made Lydia freeze more than the temperature. “You said it’s stuffy there, but you didn’t mean the heat, did you? I saw how you act around them and how you act when we’re alone. It’s different. You don’t feel well there, that’s why you come whenever you can.”
Feeling like her heart was very much going to beat out of her chest through her mouth, Lydia swallowed. She’d been in this position before, and it hadn’t been nice. But Johanna wasn’t looking at her like the bullies at school. Johanna was looking at her like a stranded person who found out there was someone else in their island to keep them company.
“I feel it too, sometimes.” Johanna continued, even though Lydia couldn’t tell if it was because she sensed her anxiety or because she was already going to, either way. “My parents get mad at me when I do badly at my tests, even when I study for it! And then dad keeps going into my room when I’m studying to check that I’m really concentrating, and it drives me crazy! Mum doesn’t like it when I bounce my leg, even though I do it without thinking sometimes, and holding it in almost hurts. And she puts me in so much itchy clothing, and gets angry when I don’t do a house chore. But it’s not because I don’t want it! I just… forget to, sometimes.”
Her cousin gaped at her in a way that made her afraid she’d messed something up, but Johanna didn’t give her time to let the shock wear off.
“And you feel like it too, don’t you?”
If Johanna had swung a bat to her cousin’s head, it probably would have left her less affected. The words “I-” and “Well-” tried to get past her throat, but seemed caught in an invisible spider web.
“Yeah.” She whined, promising herself that she would not cry, not in front of this little child who for some reason looked up to her. “Yeah, I do. I’m just not who my parents want me to be, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Taking another step forward and putting one tiny gloved hand to her tight, Johanna fixed her big brown eyes on her cousins. “For whatever is worth, you’re exactly who I want you to be. You’ve been the only good thing that happened to me since I moved here.”
It’s worth more than you can ever know, she thought, but didn’t say. Johanna continued.
“What can I do for you to not feel bad when we’re on our own?”
The feeling in her belly was what she supposed people called butterflies, but honestly, if it were up to her she would call them wasps. But even wasps were important, right? She thought she remembered reading about them at some point.
She swallowed a couple of times, at war with herself in her head about whether she should trust this seven year old who she had only began building a relationship with.
One look into her simple, kind eyes settled the decision.
“I don’t really like my name.” Her cousin answered, even though it was so much more than that. But they had to begin simple; how could one even explain something when they didn’t fully understand it themselves? “Could you call me another one?”
“Sure! Which?”
“Ed. As in Edmund.”
“That’s a boy’s name.” Johanna said without as much as blinking, and Ed took a deep breath. He’d gotten a lot of grief over that already, enough to know that the matter of fact tone in his cousin’s voice had no relation to any judgement, only with a child coming into contact with a concept for the first time.
“It is.”
“Cool. Anyway, what were you saying about the earthworms, Ed?”
Ed smiled, trying to recompose himself, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly safe.
…......
Johanna was studying during winter break.
All of her friends had discouraged her from it, claiming that High School had only just started, she should save energy instead of being overzealous, it would pay off to take time to herself.
But when had she ever listened?
She wasn’t behind on any subject, not that she could think of. It just felt like she wasn’t as deep into the topics as she could be, and either way, there was always studying ahead of time for topics that would still be taught. Every single minute she could use was necessary.
Taking a stretch after finishing a geometry worksheet, she’d just been popping her shoulder joints when her mother opened her bedroom’s door.
“Hey.” Johanna greeted, now trying to touch her toes. “Is it lunch time already?”
Her mother blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Not yet, your dad is still cooking. Have you heard from Lydia lately?”
Putting herself back in an upwards position, Johanna turned to face her mother. Here we fucking go again.
“Not really.” She lied. “We haven’t really talked since she moved away for college.”
As she stared fixedly at the ground, her mother nodded. It looked like images were flashing before her eyes as she faced the wood tiles, but Johanna could only guess what sort of image those were.
“She’s not coming for Christmas.”
“What? Why?” Johanna asked even though she already knew why. She’d stayed up late at night texting Edmund after it happened; for some reason she’d still been holding out hope that it wouldn’t reach her parents, and that things at her family would remain the same, just like they should.
“You know how she’s… changed since going to college.”
Oh, yeah, he’d changed all right. It tends to happen when you’re confined for so long and are presented to freedom for the first time. Not that Ed hadn’t been getting grief for “wanting to be a boy” his entire life. He’d presented as “tomboyish”, in their family’s words, since he’d been old enough to have a say in his appearance; people at his former school (and Johanna’s current one) had called him a butch lesbian even though he had exclusively dated guys. Their family was used to that already, even if they were never exactly pleased about it. Now, though, that he was living away and making some money of his own with research projects, the world was literally open to him.
And that was when the trouble began, because apparently you can only go so long without talking to your parents, even crappy ones, and it turns out that even crappy ones can recognize when your voice is inexplicably much deeper than it was last time you talked.
It had been a bold move on Ed’s part to start his transition without telling his parents, which spoke a lot about how much better it made him feel because Ed didn’t do “bold”. His parents had freaked out, Johanna’s parents had freaked out (even if they didn’t tell her), and Johanna herself had been watching from the backstage, biting her nails in anxiety over not being able to help her best friend.
“Yeah, I know.” She answered simply, hating herself for it. What she really wanted was to defend him. To make a scene and explain what was really going on, and how the people who were being irrational were, in fact, their parents. But she knew it would achieve nothing. All it would do was make her parents pay closer attention to her, wondering if “the queers were influencing her too” or something. Edmund himself had told her to let it be, I can deal with it on my own, don’t put yourself on the line of fire, please.
“Well… my sister is devastated, of course. She told me they decided they won’t be cutting her off. They still want her to get an education, of course, but they had a pretty big fight over this. It’s only generating conflict, and they don’t want this energy at the Christmas table. So she wasn't invited this year. I just thought you should know. Since you used to be so close and all of that.”
“I understand, thank you.”
Her mother nodded and quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind herself. Johanna walked to the box where she placed her phone while studying, and picked it up, opening her text conversation with Ed. The last messages had been sent approximately three hours before; he had sent her a pretty butterfly video from Twitter and she had reacted with a plethora of emojis, right before complaining about having to study maths.
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard as possible messages crossed her mind.
“Ed, you won’t believe this bullshit.”
“Ed, I’m so sorry.”
“Ed, what the FUCK?”
“Ed, are you okay??”
“Hey Ed, let’s pretend I didn’t just hear devastating news so please let’s talk about that show we sort of like that was cancelled for zero reasons.”
She sighed, and then groaned because a simple sigh didn’t feel like it was strong enough for that situation. All of those felt like poking the wound in a way that was either condescending or insensitive. It took her a lot of deliberation, but eventually she was able to press send. The answer came very shortly after, even though she didn’t see it because her phone had been back inside the Do Not Touch box and in silent mode.
You: Hey, I love you, k?
Cousin 🐛: wow you're SO obsessed with me 🙄🙄
I love you too Jo.
Truly.
Thank you
………
Edmund was officially losing it, and it was over lasagna.
He could cook. It was true! He cooked for himself and his cousin more often than not. But it was usually all practical meals, they weren’t meant to cause a good impression, much less dazzle. This one was, and he was having all sorts of insecurities over it.
Over pasta. Surefire way to know that he had, as the kids say, officially lost it.
“Do you think it doesn't have enough cheese?” He asked as he showed Johanna. “I’m wondering if it baked for too long. Would it be as good if I just put more Parmesan over it now? Maybe it would melt since it’s still hot.”
“Ed.” Johanna said firmly but gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s carbs and cheese. Everyone will love it. Don’t overthink this.”
He sighed and looked down at the tray in his hands, its temperature making its way to his skin even through the mittens he was wearing; the blush in his cheeks, which arose when he noticed how silly he must look, was only partially hidden by his stubble. “Yeah, I guess. I just want it to be as close to perfect as it can get, I suppose. It’s nothing.”
It wasn’t necessary for him to look up to know Johanna was smiling at him with a knowing expression. She had the annoying habit of doing that often.
“I did not have to listen to you rant about how perfection is a scam through my entire adolescence for you to pull this right now.” She quipped, and he knew it was only a joke to lighten the mood, because they both knew very well what this really was about. And it wasn’t about dinner. “I meant it, Ed. They’ll love it. You don’t have to put in any more effort.”
They’ll love you, was what she really said, and he could hear it perfectly. Come as you are. There won’t be any judgments tonight.
“Thanks.” He said, shoulders sagging just slightly. “Can you wrap this up with foil while I go finish getting ready?”
“Of course.” Johanna smiled at him and set to her task when he put the tray on the kitchen counter, and he went back to his bedroom to spray some cologne on himself and check that his hair was in place. Edmund wasn’t a vain person, never had been. But he could hardly be blamed for being anxious about the first family Christmas dinner he’d been invited to in eight years.
When he went back into the living room, Johanna was already waiting for him by the door, car keys on one hand and the fruit cake she’d baked earlier on the other. Their presents were already in the car trunk. After picking up the lasagna from the counter, Edmund followed her out, and they put the dishes on the backseats, hoping that they'd be safe during the fifteen minute trip to the Pilqvist house.
…......
“So, what’s the vibe there?” He asked while Johanna made her way out of campus. “What do they celebrate?”
“Funny you should ask, I asked Kaisa just the other day.” Johanna squinted, checking that it was safe to drive past an intersection since that part of the campus was dimly lit. “Kaisa is actually celebrating Christmas. Tildy celebrates Yule, but hosts this dinner four days late for her children, for tradition, and apparently because she’s obsessed with Christmas decoration. Kaisa said to expect a lot of it. Frida hasn’t settled on a religion or anything, so she just vibes with her family and eats too many cookies, but that might just be because my intel comes from her older sister. Also she apparently wants to wait for her prefrontal cortex to fully develop to decide if she’s going to choose any religious practices. This probably doesn’t tell you anything yet, but it’s a very Frida thing.”
Edmund hummed pensively. “Wait, you mean the elderly woman is neopagan?”
“Yes?” Johanna kept staring forward, but her cousin could almost sense the crease between her brows. “Why the tone of surprise?”
“I don’t know, just sounds very alternative for a lady of age.”
“Pft. If you knew Tildy, it wouldn’t. It’ll make sense, trust me.”
He fiddled with his fingers on his lap as they entered the highway, the luminosity instantly getting better. It wasn’t going to be a white Christmas; snow hadn’t yet come to them, but the atmosphere of winter all around them was still there. If he listened carefully, he might even hear the crackle of a fireplace, even though he’d never owned one.
“They sound nice.” He mentioned softly, and his cousin hummed in agreement by his side. “What will we tell them if they ask what we celebrate?”
“It’ll probably not be a problem. They’ll be too busy forcing us to feel welcome and eat delicious food.”
Edmund chuckled, pretending to be suddenly very interested in the buttons that controlled the car’s heating.
“I don’t know about you.” Johanna continued. She took his hand out of the car’s panel, holding it in one of hers while the other remained on the steering wheel. It wasn’t possible for her to actually look at him while they were on the road, of course, but they locked eyes through the rearview mirror. “But I am celebrating the people I love the most.”
Feeling a tightness in his chest, he squeezed her hand, and she squeezed it back. And, like it had always been between them, they knew what the other meant without ever saying it.
…......
It was well into the wee hours of the morning when Johanna drove Ed back to campus - which he thanked her for, since she didn’t need to. With it being the winter break, she could go to her parents’ home or stay over at Kaisa’s, but she sensed that he’d prefer to go back home and went with him to campus without any complaints. But when he did, it was with a gentle smile on his face, a festive sweater knit with his initials, which Tildy had given to all those in attendance, a new book on millipedes which Kaisa had bought him, and an unfamiliar sense of belonging he was sure he’d never known, because he never would have forgotten a feeling that good.
If he had to pinpoint where the feeling began, he would probably say that it had been at the beginning of the night, when he made a queer joke to Kaisa under his breath and, to his horror, she not only snorted loudly but also repeated the joke louder for her mother and sister to listen. They laughed along, and even though they didn’t know the quip had originally come from him, he had realised with a start that it wouldn’t have mattered. They would have welcomed him just the same. Tildy would still have given him the sweater with the correct initials, and Frida would still have gone up to him and made him questions about what it was like in the field of research.
It should have been an easier conclusion to come to since, you know, his cousin and Kaisa were embarrassing everyone under the mistletoe, but still. What you learn during your formative years tend to stick with you, but in that environment, he could drop that baggage down.
“I’m sorry I forgot your gift.” Johanna said sheepishly as they drove back, waking him up from the beginnings of a light sleep. “I knew exactly what to get you, so I could swear I had bought it.”
“Maybe you did. Maybe it’s just somewhere you didn’t find.”
“I hate that that’s a possibility. I’ll have to rummage through my bedroom now, and I might come up empty handed anyway.”
He shifted in the seat, trying to position himself more comfortably even though the ride would soon be over and he’d have no more time to rest inside the car. “Johanna, chill. I don’t need a present.”
“But you’re my cousin!”
“Exactly.” The corner of his lip twitched as he looked at her, knowing he’d be almost out of her eyesight. “I’m your cousin. And that is more than enough.”