A/N: Don't even ask, I have no clue how this little one happened. I have never drank Absinthe but it's there... while my essays aren't... this plot bunny was persistent and stubborn. Enjoy the little one. Many thanks.


"I'm an Absinthe baby?!" Elphaba yelled as she beheld an identical green vial to the one she had kept her whole life. The label intact on this jade bottle showing her that she was an alcohol baby; 63% alcohol she felt the bottle slip from her grasp and fell to the bed a Elphaba stared blankly at the window, the starry sky blurring out of focus as tears welled in her eyes.

She always knew she was never truly Frexspar's child, she never felt the bond she saw in Nessa and her father.

So whose child was she? Who had her mother screwed around with when she was meant to be the doting wife of a minister?

Who was Melena fucking?

Elphaba was not a dumb woman – she thanked her Grandfather Thropp for her quick thinking mind – it didn't take long for her to put two and two together, equalling at exactly four. Her father was a man who built his city on the colour green, who planned to make her his star attraction.

Elphaba Thropp felt her anger fester in her until she let out a screaming cry, scooping the vial she hurled the offending glass bottle at the stone wall where it shattered into hundreds of irreparable pieces. Swiping the offending tears from her cheeks, the Witch of the West stared angrily into her looking glass and for the hundredth time since she was exiled from Oz, cursed the great leader, the Wizard of Oz. Only this time it was personal; Daddy's Little Girl was going after Father Dearest.

. . . . . .

It wasn't until much later, when Dorothy was locked in her castle that Elphaba came across the shattered glass pieces again. As she paced her bedroom, worrying, fretting, almost violently throwing up every time she heard the little girl cry, she heard the clink and crush of the glass beneath her boots. Sweeping her skirt to the side she saw the fragments once again and cried fresh tears as she cursed her mother's infidelity, and her real father's gall to seduce Melena. She cursed her father and sister's piousness, she cursed everything she could, knowing in her heart that she wouldn't have her life any other way – she was too proud to be living a glossy glamour life like Glinda, she was too real, she'd dealt with too much to even think of putting on an act.

That's what she'd done though, she'd put on an act, she wasn't as heartless and Morrible made out, it was then that Elphaba made her decision, there was no way out.

Dragging a trunk from under her bed, she pulled the green bottle from its keep-safe bag and slipped it into her pocket, her hand wrapped tightly around the vial, she felt the overwhelming warmth that came with her mother's embrace and she stepped down to face Dorothy, the Wizard, Morrible and most importantly Glinda.

Whatever her conception, whoever her parents, someone… up there… cared for Elphaba and made her a much stronger person than anyone would ever have expected. That's what Fiyero saw as the love of his life swept down the staircase, her eyes lingering on him before she faced the human girl. The human girl that murdered her. It took everything for Fiyero not to cry out as Boq and the Lion… the lion whom she had saved cheered and danced their way back to Oz. He couldn't fight it though when she came back to him and offered him a way out of the jubilant city… with her.