It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and I had a chicken on my head.

Mandated: Robin ends up with a chicken on their head. <br><br>Short story. Not sure if anyone will like this, but do let me know if you would like me to continue! <br><br>It had not been a good day. <br><br>We were in the middle of a civil war, and I had just been conscripted into the British Empire. <br><br>There was a man named George sitting in the mud, staring at me, and he had blood all over his face. <br><br>I had no idea where I was or where I was going. <br><br>I had no idea how I even ended up on a muddy road, dressed like I was about to go to a fancy ball. <br><br>But the only thing I could think of was the chicken on my head. <br><br>A lot of people ask me, how did the chicken get there? What was the chicken doing? Is it a metaphor? <br><br>I usually lie and say it is a metaphor for the fickle nature of fate. <br><br>But the truth is that I don’t know. <br><br>When I came to, the chicken was just...there. Occasionally clucking. Sometimes pecking at my hair. <br><br>Most of the soldiers I was with had decided that the chicken was a good omen. <br><br>George did not agree. <br><br>“How can you all be so blasé, in the face of war and death?” He shouted at us. “With the world on the brink of collapse, and a chicken on that woman’s head?” <br><br>“Not my chicken, mate.” One of the other men replied, grinning at me. <br><br>I tried to smile back, but I was nervous. Not just because of the impending battle. I am trans, and had been before I got conscripted, and I had no idea what these men would do when they found out. <br><br>But they all seemed friendly enough, and I was trying to focus on not getting killed. <br><br>“George, you got a point?” One of the other men asked, jostling him with his elbow. <br><br>George rubbed his face, covering his eyes. <br><br>“I have a point that life is precious, and we should not turn our faces from danger, with a chicken on that woman’s head.” He replied, trying to calm down. <br><br>The man next to me sighed, and put his hand on my shoulder. I tried not to panic. <br><br>“Don’t listen to him, chicken lady.” He said. “We’ll all be friends. We’ll get through this.” <br><br>I smiled again, this time genuinely. <br><br>“Besides,” the man said, grinning. “With that chicken on your head, we’ll be fine. It’s a good omen.” <br><br>I could feel the chicken pecking at my hair gently, as if it agreed. <br><br>George stood up, and ran away from us. <br><br>I stood up, brushing off my dress. <br><br>“Don’t worry chicken, we will be fine.” <br><br>Mandated by u/robinperry22, and I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if you would like me to continue :)