Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2006. Found: 2017- Licia
1939
The book fell to the floor, forgotten.
"Fabala! Come on! Papa's waiting for us!"
She turned, reaching down-
"Leave that! One of the maids can come pick it up. Now come on!" She laughed, allowing herself to be pulled from the room. The girls rushed through the palace, out past the lake and tennis courts, towards the watering hole with the rope swing; their favorite upon favorite place at Caprice-in-the-Pines. Though they enjoyed rowing on the lake or swimming in the ocean, or even playing tennis against the sailors, the watering hole was their private place; the place where the children could go with their father and forget about being royal for a few hours.
She skidded to a stop, watching as their father let go of the rope and dropped into the water below. A moment passed, before their brother rushed past-
"Shell, no! You'll hurt yourself!"
But the boy ignored her, ignoring the swing all together. With a cry of excitement, he dropped into the water, even as she turned, anticipating the cry of pain- but none came.
"Come on, girls! Jump! The water's fine! I promise!"
Without a word, Sophelia and Oziandra did; grabbing hands and jumping in. Nessa turned to her. "Come on, Fabala. Together?"
She glanced at the water, before turning back to her sister. "I don't know, Nessa-"
"But we do everything together. That's why Mama and Papa nicknamed us the Small Pair, remember? Because we're a pair, we'll always be a pair. Please, Fabala."
A wave of something flashed across her face.
She shifted, brow furrowing.
"We won't always be a pair."
"What? Fabala, that's silly. We're always going to be a pair, no matter what happens. Always. We're sisters, remember? You're my best friend and I'm yours." She threw her arms around her sister. "I love you, Fabala."
"I love you, too, Nessa." She whispered, holding her sister close.
"So how could you leave me to die?" Slowly, she pulled away.
"What are you-" But the sight of her little sister stole the very breath from her lungs. No longer the beautiful twelve-year-old girl she had been; her body was riddled with slices from bayonets and bullet wounds, her clothing ripped and torn, her skin black and bloody, her skull slightly bashed in. The long dark hair she and her sisters were known for hung in strings; the white bow she'd worn was gone. There were also burns on her body, melting through her skin and revealing flashes of bone.
"You let me die. We were supposed to protect each other, and instead, you tried to escape; you left me at the mercy of that guard! He destroyed me! He ruined me and then he killed me! And you survive? It's not fair!" Her hands, the skin eaten away, revealing bony fingers reached, wrapping around her older sister's neck. "You left me to die!"
"Mama!"
She bolted upright, heart leaping into her throat as the nightmare faded. She was in the Cerulean Room, curled up on the sofa, the book she'd been occupying herself with open on its pages on the floor. She was alone, the door to her boudoir closed; giving her the privacy she so desperately longed for, being a wife and mother to eight. There was no sign of Nessa, no sign of the watering hole at Caprice-in-the-Pines or the palace itself. After a moment, she ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. "Just a dream... that turned into a nightmare."
"Mama!"
A moment passed, before she picked the book up and set it on the end table, before climbing to her feet and going to the door. She found Fechín on the other side of the door, black hair pulled back in two braids down either side of her head, hands behind her back. "I thought I told you not to bother me by knocking when I'm trying to get a little time to myself in the Blue Room." She put her hands on her hips, silently rolling her eyes at her children's name for her boudoir, because they couldn't properly pronounce Cerulean yet.
The just-turned-eight-year-old met her mother's gaze. "I didn't knock, Mama."
"No, you just kept calling, which is worse." Her mother muttered, before kneeling down to her daughter's level. Although considering how that nightmare was turning out, I should be grateful. "Now what is so important you had to interrupt me, Fechín?" The little girl blinked.
Of all her children, it was Fechín who sadly, unnerved Elphaba the most. Not for anything she did or said, but for the way those big blue eyes of hers could drink a person in and make them forget what they'd been focused on before- so like her father's would do. Of all four of her daughters, only Faola and Fechín resembled Trism in personality. Both girls were calm and relaxed- so laid back they were both nearly parallel with the floor, like their father was- and it both worried and unnerved the young empress. The last person who had been as laid back as her daughters was Oziandra- for despite her nickname of the Governess, her stern words and motherly ways with her younger siblings- the second oldest Kauri also had the most relaxed personality of all four princesses. She had been Melena's un-admitted favorite for a reason, that hadn't gone unnoticed by the other girls. Yes, she definitely saw a lot of her older sister in her two oldest daughters.
"Daddy is back from the station with Grandmama, great-Grandmama and Cousin Glinda." And then, without another word, she turned and proceeded to skip out of her parents' bedroom and down the hall towards the stairs, black braids bouncing as she went.