Hiraeth

By Vinkunwildflowerqueen

DISCLAIMER: I didn't create these characters, I'm just borrowing them for my enjoyment and hopefully yours.

AN. Happy Wicked Day! 12 years, can you believe it? This little musical is almost a teenager! To make up for once again not having Long Time Coming up (sorry!) I hope you'll accept this in the meantime.

"Hiraeth" is a Welsh word that has no direct English translation, but is described as "a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past" (Side note: I've been trying to find a way to use this word in a fic for 2 years, so I'm pretty happy).

Elphaba picked up her skirts and slipped hastily through the halls of her childhood home, fleeing from the parlour where Nessarose and Boq remained. Guilt and adrenaline burned through her veins like fire, fuelling her footsteps even as her throat and chest constricted and her stomach did summersaults.

She wondered if she was going to be sick, but she wasn't going to stop to find out. She was sure an alarm would be sounding out for her capture at any moment, and she'd be dammed if she was finally going to be captured in the home she'd grown up in. It had been almost three years since she'd last been here, last lived here, but she was sure she still knew the halls better than anyone.

Finally, she climbed out the downstairs bathroom window she'd entered through, pushed herself through the lavender bush where she'd left her broom, and then fled through the back garden.

Only when she was over the back garden wall and amongst the safety of the shadows of the trees that backed the property, did Elphaba stop and lean against the trunk of an elm tree, her legs shaking too much for her to walk. She still wasn't sure if she was going to be sick or not.

All she'd wanted was to see her sister. She wanted to see Nessa, gain some small comfort in her sister- in her family; and yes, hope that her father and Nessa might stand by her against the Wizard. She'd had this stupid thought that standing up against the Wizard's propaganda, the injustice he and Morrible were conducting against the Animals… it might be something that her father might be proud of her for.

Elphaba didn't want to admit it to herself, but she'd had the thought. It wasn't exactly how she'd dreamed of making her father and sister proud of her, but it was something. It was more than something- it was what was right.

He died of shame, Nessa had told her, her tone like ice. Embarrassed to death.

It had shocked Elphaba more than she would have expected to hear of her father's death. After all, they'd never been close. But again, Frex wasn't especially old and the last time Elphaba had seen him, he'd been in good health.

Elphaba's grip tightened on the tree and she closed her eyes as she took deep, steadying breaths to try and settle her stomach.

It all seemed helpless now. Nessa hated her, and Boq… Elphaba hated herself for what she'd done to her old schoolmate, although on some level knew she hadn't had a choice. Not if she'd wanted Boq's death to weigh on Nessa's conscience.

It was like the Monkey's all over again in a way. Or rather, it was worse, as Elphaba had known what she was doing this time- even if her intentions were good.

As she'd told Nessa, she knew what she had to do. The thought had come to her so clearly as she'd cast the spell over Boq and watched his flesh turn to tin.

There was nothing she could do for Boq. But she could free the Monkeys. Elphaba tried to forget the way she and Nessa had left things, she could only hope that she'd get the chance to apologise at a later date.

Elphaba moved quietly, carefully listening and looking towards Colwen Grounds. She couldn't hear any alarms or shouting… maybe Boq was still sleeping? Elphaba was sure if an alarm was going to be raised, it would be by Boq and not Nessa. Surely Nessa didn't hate her that much to order her capture, even if she wouldn't stand with Elphaba or harbour her in the house.

Deciding the coast was clear, and her nerves and stomach could handle flight, Elphaba emerged from the cover of the trees and took off on the broom, rising into the air but hovering near the treetops just in case. There was still no alarmed shouting from below that she could hear.

Rather relieved (she didn't think she could cope with having to flee the Gale force or witch-hunting Munchkins trying to claim the bounty that was on her head) Elphaba turned the broom in the direction that she knew would take her to the Emerald City.

And then she stopped, and impulsively turned the broom and flew south-east, travelling not even a mile before she descended, landing gracefully in the tallest branches of a large oak that looked over the Munchkin City cemetery. Slowly, Elphaba climbed down the tree with her broom in hand and looked around.

The cemetery appeared deserted, but she kept a firm grip on her broom just in case she needed a hasty getaway.

There was a voice in her head that told Elphaba that she didn't have time for this, but she reasoned that if an alarm did sound, they'd look to the sky and not the graveyard. If anything, she might be safest here.

Elphaba couldn't even remember the last time she'd been to the cemetery, but she remembered the layout clearly. She kept a wary eye out for movement or people, but there truly seemed to be no one about.

Elphaba tightened her grip on her shawl around her shoulders and slowly eased herself down to sit on the ground before the white marble that was her mother's grave, slowly taking off her pointed hat.

Melena Parta Thropp

1889-1917

Beloved Wife and Mother

On Nessa's first birthday, and the one year anniversary of Melena's death, Frex had ordered a rosebush planted on the grave, and it bloomed even now.

Next to Melena, lay Frex. Elphaba could only assume it had been Nessa who'd arranged their father's burial so that his tombstone was made of white marble to match Melena's.

Frexspar Thropp

1887-1936

Much Loved Father of Nessarose

A dry chuckle escaped Elphaba's throat as she read the epigraph. She wondered if she'd been left out because she was a fugitive and proclaimed "terrorist" (Morrible's words); or just because Frex really did hate her. Had hated her… past tense. Elphaba couldn't help but wince slightly, despite everything.

It was only as she sat here now that it really hit her that she and Nessa were orphans now. They were the only family each other had now, and Elphaba had just walked away from her. It made Elphaba's heart hurt.

"Hi, Mom," she said quietly. "I'm sorry it's been so long. It's just… you know, life on the run and all."

Elphaba didn't really knew what to say or why she'd even come. She'd just felt drawn to it.

"I miss you," she admitted. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm so scared all the time that I'm going to be caught or that what I'm doing isn't making a difference. I don't know what exactly will happen if Morrible ever gets her hands on me, but I can't imagine it'll be anything pleasant."

A life sentence in Southstairs at best.

"I wish you were here. I wish I had some idea of what advice you'd give me if you were… would you be proud of me? Or would you hate me too?"

Tears stung Elphaba's eyes suddenly, her throat clogging up.

"I've tried so hard to take care of Nessa, like I promised I would," she choked out.

It was her strongest memory of her mother, vowing to take care of her little brother or sister. And she knew she had failed.

"I did everything I could for her. I know that I shouldn't have abandoned her after what happened in the Emerald City, but I had to. It's not like I could take her with me, and it was too risky to make contact. I shouldn't have done it today… maybe if I hadn't, none of today would have happened. I just- I've been so homesick for her, I had to see her."

A tear escaped her eye despite her best efforts and she wiped it away vehemently.

"I made Nessa walk," she told the headstone. "I enchanted her shoes and… she can walk. I thought that might make up for… at least some of it. But she hates me."

Saying the words out loud was almost more than Elphaba could bear.

"Nessa hates me and now Boq is made of tin. I know I had to do it to save his life, but I've ruined his life! I've ruined everyone's lives."

Elphaba wiped her eyes and looked to her father's grave.

"I wish I could tell you that I'm sorry. Sorry for what I did and that you're gone. But I'm not sorry about what I did, and I wish that you could have been proud of me for doing what is right."

Elphaba sighed, and picked up her hat again from the ground beside her.

"I have to go set those Monkeys free," she said firmly. "It's something I can do to begin to make things right again. Something that can't backfire on me."

Maybe if she said it enough, it would be true.

Nessa's parting words went through Elphaba like a knife, almost as painful as Boq's ever-so-casual mention of Fiyero and Glinda's engagement.

"You're not going to free some Monkeys. You're going to see Fiyero. But it's too late."

Elphaba knew it was too late, she'd never questioned that. She didn't exactly know how or when Nessa had picked up on her feelings for Fiyero (Elphaba certainly had never told her), but that wasn't important now.

As Elphaba got to her feet, she hesitated. There was a strange feeling in her chest, almost like forewarning. Something told her that she'd never be here again.

Elphaba debated internally for a moment, then bent down and carefully picked a white rose from the bush on her mother's grave, and laid it on the grass before Frex's tombstone.

"Goodbye," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

Then she turned and retraced her steps through the tombstones to the clearing in the back corner where it would be safe to take off.

Once she was in the sky, she spared a single glance towards the white house on the hill where her sister resided, before resolutely turning the broom towards the Emerald City. She was going to free those Monkeys if it was the last thing she did. And she was going to ignore the painful ache in her chest at the thought she might get a glimpse of Glinda and Fiyero while she was there.

Three Months Later

The sun shone down upon the little cottage in Quox, as Elphaba rocked back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"The last hole's ready, Fae," Fiyero said, sounding as tired as she felt.

Elphaba looked over, lifting her ponytail off her sweaty neck. "Thanks. Where's the-?"

"Here."

Elphaba got to her feet and helped him carefully lift the pink rosebush into the hole he'd dug. Being made of straw didn't give him a lot of strength, but he'd insisted he was going to help her.

"I can dig a hole at least," he'd argued and Elphaba had relented.

From the moment they'd arrived in Quox and began planning their new life together, Elphaba only had one idea of what she wanted in their home- a rose garden to honour the loved ones they'd lost or left behind.

And now it was finally becoming a reality.

Fiyero had been on board with the idea once she'd shared it with him, but a few things had had to happen first. Namely, they'd (read: she'd) had to find jobs, somewhere to live and furnish the house. They had absolutely nothing with them.

Once they had everything organised though, they'd spent two weekends looking around greenhouses and gardens, looking for the perfect roses for their garden.

The pink was for Glinda, naturally. There was red for Nessarose, purple for Fiyero's parents, and white for Elphaba's (More for Melena, technically). They were still talking about possibly adding more for Dr Dillamond and Boq, but these were the most important people to them.

"I think it's looking good," Fiyero observed, standing back as Elphaba pushed soil over the roots of the rose bush.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Elphaba got up and stood with him, frowning critically at the rosebushes in a row.

"Elphaba, it looks great," Fiyero said gently. "Relax."

"Do you think it's enough?"

Fiyero frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Elphaba was staring at the white rose bush. "The rose bushes. Do you think it's enough? It's not much of a memorial, is it?"

"I think the heats getting to you," Fiyero said firmly. "Come on, let's go inside."

Elphaba said nothing as they went inside, she washed her hands and got herself a glass of water.

"Fae, the rose bushes are a great idea," Fiyero reassured her. "It's something beautiful, something living. I think they'd love it if they knew about it."

"You know why I wanted white for my mother?" Elphaba asked him quietly.

"Why?"

"Because my father had a white rosebush planted on her grave the year after she died."

Fiyero didn't know what to say to that.

"I went to her grave before I came to the Emerald City that night," she continued, not looking at him. "I still don't know why… Nessa had just told me about our father and everything with Boq had just happened… I think I felt like I had to really see his grave to believe it."

She looked up at him finally to meet his gaze. "Do you think Nessa's buried beside them now?"

Fiyero hesitated. While it was only safe to assume that the Munchkins had buried Nessa's body (although he grimaced at the thought of how they would have gotten it out from under the house that had crushed her, or what condition it would have been in when they did so); the Munchkins hadn't felt particularly sympathetic towards the Wicked Witch of the East the last he'd seen.

Would they have taken the time and care to bury the young woman with her parents?

"I'm sure Glinda would have arranged it," he finally replied, hoping it was true.

Elphaba nodded thoughtfully. "Right. Of course. She knew Nessa…"

Fiyero nodded encouragingly. "She did. And I'm sure that knowing you couldn't make arrangements, she'd do all she could to take care of Nessa for you."

For the last time, the unspoken words hung between them and Elphaba's throat constricted. Nessa's burial was the last thing Elphaba could have done for her little sister, and she didn't even know where she was buried. It was hard for Elphaba not to see this as yet another way she had failed.

Fiyero reached over and gently took Elphaba's hand.

"Fae, you did all you could for Nessa," he said firmly. "The rose bush is beautiful, and she'd love it."

Elphaba managed a weak smile. "OK," she said simply.

There was no way Elphaba or Fiyero could or would ever know, that in the Munchkin City cemetery, next to the white tombs of Frex and Melena, there now lay a third tombstone.

As predicted, Glinda had stepped in to ensure that Nessarose Thropp had a proper burial; burying her not as The Wicked Witch of the East, or the dictator of Munchkinland, but as her best friend's little sister.

Nessarose Thropp

1917-1938

Sister, Daughter, Friend

And next to the grave, situated between Nessa's final resting place and the fence of the cemetery, there was a recently planted rosebush. This one, that would bloom with green roses. There was no sign, no marking, nothing to speak for why the bush was planted or what it signified.

But one person knew. One person knew that it was a small simple gesture to remember a friend who had no final resting place. And that was enough.

The competition that I've been running is closing TODAY. I'll accept entries up until 3pm (Sydney, Australia time). Thank you to everyone who has entered! Winners will be decided sometime this weekend hopefully (I'm going to Sydney to see Delta Goodrem in Cats, so hopefully Brioney can find a spare moment to pick the winners).