It was a black day in history, as far as Frexspar Thropp was concerned, when his daughter was born.
Melena Thropp watched in exhausted silence as her husband (in name only, as far as she was concerned) paced back and forth, occasionally shaking his head and murmuring prayers to the Unnamed God. After turning around the hundredth time, he muttered a "You should sleep" to her, before slipping out of the door without meeting her gaze.
Melena scrubbed the back of her hands across her tired eyes and looked down at the warm bundle nestled in her arms. In the dim, flickering candlelight, one could almost believe that the baby was anything but … Well, green.
Almost.
Melena, unlike Frexspar, knew exactly how this had happened. She reached under her pillow and grasped the slim, cool neck of a bottle. Checking that no one was outside approaching the door, she drew out the small green bottle and stared at it almost accusingly.
If someone had told Melena Thropp, privileged daughter of a Viscount in Ix, that she'd grow up to be nothing but a housewife living on the moors of Nest Hardings and engaging in illicit affairs with traveling salesmen, she would have thrown her drink in their faces and stalked away. Melena had made the choice to marry the only son of the Governor of Munchkinland ("such a perfect pairing, darling"), but if only said son would live at the grand official residence in a while … But no, apparently a miserable existence on damp ground does wonders for the spirit.
"It's all your fault." Melena whispered to the green bottle. Her reflection glinted darkly, as if it were mocking her. No, it's your entire fault, my dark-eyed beauty. She replaced the bottle under her pillow, and gazed at the sleeping baby again. Unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes. For months, she'd dreamed about holding her very own baby, even when it kicked her kidneys during the night. Damn Frexspar better not ruin this moment.
"It's not your fault, you poor little thing," she crooned to the baby, as a mixture of pity and maternal instinct rose in her. She adjusted the bundle, and her daughter's eyes fluttered open. They regarded her warily, and suddenly it occurred to Melena that in the midst of all the post-birth chaos, they'd forgotten to even name the baby.
"Now, that won't do. What should we call you, hm?" Melena murmured, tracing the soft cheek. Already, she could see how her daughter resembled her. The eyes – warm brown, like her– the forehead and even the prominent cheekbones that had made half the pudgy ladies in court swoon with envy. Except … The baby reached out a hand and grabbed Melena's finger with surprising strength. She had his hands. Those long-fingered hands that had worked that magic so delicately on her …
"A little stubborn lass, ain't she now?"
Melena sighed as Nanny's voice startled her out of her musings. "Nanny, how many times must I tell you to knock before entering?"
Nanny ignored her. "A stubborn lass she'll have to be, my poppet, if she's gotta deal with that," she muttered, jerking her head in the general direction of the sitting room. Her ears swiveled back, an outward sign of her annoyance. " 'Take her away!', he says! A baby ain't some kind of trash you can just throw out." She began picking up the soiled cloths and placing them in a wash basket.
"You know the baby isn't his," Melena said quietly.
"And that's what you get for rolling around with strange men," Nanny admonished. "I do hope you'll know what you're doing in the future. I've seen my fair share of gossip, but that wee bit's got plenty in store for her. Now you know I'm only bound to serve you and your family, so thank Oz I'll never have to scurry around for our lovely Governor."
"I can release you, you know that."
"I do, and I rather you don't. I promised your dear mother I'd keep an eye on you, and I will. Besides, I like having me own kitchen to lord over. Keeps me on me feet. Who knows, there might come a time when having a secure place to stay might come in handy for Animals."
"If you say so."
"Still, poppet," Nanny sighed, straightening up and heading for the door. "Congratulations. You're a mother now." Her eyes softened, and Melena half-smiled at her. Nanny was still her Nanny at the end of the day.
"We haven't even given the baby a name yet."
Nanny paused in the doorway. "Perhaps after some Saint?"
"Saint Aelphaba." She decided, a wicked glint in her eye. "I always liked her story."
Nanny rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, poppet."
Melena looked at her baby. "We'll drop the 'A'", she whispered as the door closed. "Elphaba."
Time truly has wings, Melena thought, watching as Elphaba ran around on her spindly legs. She placed a hand on her swollen belly, a troubled sigh escaping her lips as the child within shifted uncomfortably. Groaning, Melena popped another milkflower into her mouth. "These flowers will be the death of me", she muttered irritably, swallowing the bitter mush.
"Mama?" Her daughter halted at her knee.
"Yes, dear?"
"Why does Papa make you eat those even if they don't taste good?" Elphaba asked inquisitively.
"Remember how Nanny says the best medicine usually tastes bitter?" Melena replied, unable to give a straight answer.
Elphaba frowned. "Are you sick, Mama?"
"It's to ensure your sister will be a normal little girl," Frexspar boomed, startling them both. Elphaba gripped her mother's hand.
"Frex – " Melena started.
"It's the truth, Melena. Stop trying to shield her from it," Frexspar said, dusting his robes.
"Elphaba, dear, why don't you run along to the kitchen and see if Nanny's gotten lunch ready? Both your sister and I are famished." Melena forced a smile.
"Yes, Mama." Elphaba whispered, eyes downcast as she ran off.
…
Elphaba was in the kitchen sampling some marchpane when a scream ripped through the air. The sound was so foreign, she dropped the candy and clutched Nanny's sleeve in fright.
"Now, don't you worry, lass," Nanny said, turning off the stove. "From the sounds of it, your sister might be arrivin' soon!"
"Isn't it a bit early, Nanny?" Elphaba said in surprise.
Nanny paused in the middle of rummaging through the cupboards. "Yes, well … I'm sure everything will be just fine."
Just then, Frexspar burst in, eyes wild. "Nanny, the baby's –"
"Coming, I know," Nanny interrupted brusquely. "Have you helped her into the bedroom?"
"Yes."
"At least that's one job done," Nanny said, slamming the oven door and picking up a basket of clean cloths. "Now, Elphaba, why don't you be a dear and pick flowers for your Momma? I'm sure she'd like them after your sister arrives."
A/N: Hello, ladies and gentlemen! This is my hefty first multi-chapter story, detailing all the backstory of Wicked that the musical doesn't show. The focus point of this story will be an exploration of the three main characters, and also the Fiyeraba relationship (because Fiyero deserves much more than what he got in the musical!). Off we go ...