Disclaimer: I do not own The Wicked Years series
Liir's mumblings were ignored, by a swift "Hush" from Nanny. Each of the adults looked between them, as if daring the other to come up with a solution. Elphaba bit her lip, willing herself to speak, but finding her voice as useless as Chistery's at coming up with any sort of response.
"Well it shouldn't take Nanny to find him a proper bed, but if there's none other for him he can come up to my room, and I will sleep on the floor!" On hearing the scorn in Nanny's voice, and the scathing look she sent towards Elphaba, the witch suddenly regained proper use of her vocal chords, for no reason more likely than to stop all the unnecessary glares sent her way.
"No need for the dramatics – place the boy in my room." Sarima raised one eyebrow towards Elphaba, but she said nothing, that small expression being the only evidence of her supprise. The witch's face was impassive and hard; far more so than the normal pointed glare, and she could easily see there was no reckoning to be had.
"Very well. If you are sure." She said passively, going to grab one of Liir's limp arms, and gesturing to Five to help her drag the semi-lifeless boy up the tower steps.
Before Elphaba could leave to follow them and even try to work out what had spurred within her to willingly take the boy into her own private space, Nanny beckoned her over with one gnarled old hand. Elphaba turned to face the batty old woman with a slightly gentler scowl on her face than what was normally reserved for the rest of the household.
"What is it Nanny?" She asked, crossing her slender arms. The old woman pointed towards one of the many jars that lined the east side of the kitchen.
"Take the blue jar with that silver stopper there." Elphaba quickly strode over to that end of the room and grabbed the jar, which rested beside the windowsill. "Yes, that's the one dearie! And make sure that boy of yours has at least one tablespoonful before he goes to bed!" Elphaba rolled her eyes at Nanny's insinuation, but said nothing on the matter aside from a few mumbled words under her breath. No one seemed to believe her uncertainties about Liir's parentage. She then nodded, and quickly left the room, her black skirts trailing up the many stone steps of the tower.
On the way up she encountered both Sarima and her sister exiting the turret.
"We've placed him on your bed. He woke up again just as we got there, and he is quite clearly not in the right state of mind – blathering about his mother and father of all things – so don't be too harsh on the boy." Elphaba grimaced; dealing with a delirious Liir was not going to be easy or fun, and it appeared she would be alone in coping with this as well.
She hurriedly sped past the two sisters, taking the steps two at a time, just in order to not risk further conversation with the two pestering women more than anything else. She took a deep breath resting her hand on the cool door handle, trying to push back the terrifying feelings that were coming dangerously close to the surface. She could ask Nanny to deal with the boy, or even Chistery. Surely the Monkey would have more of an idea of what to do with the child than she? She quickly dismissed that idea. Chistery wouldn't be helpful to the sick child any more than she would, and the idea of Nanny trying to traipse up these stairs sounded even less of an appealing idea – one that would end in tragedy for both party's. She sighed; there was nothing to be done.
Elphaba slowly opened the creaky door that led to her tower room. The boy had been placed unceremoniously on her bed, which itself was not made with the bed sheets and blankets lying in a tangled heap on the floor beside it. The boy himself turned as soon as Elphaba entered the room.
"Mum?" Elphaba's eyes widened, but she quickly dismissed the title. The boy was just rambling. He was hallucinating, as Sarima had said. Elphie didn't stare the pathetic looking child in the eyes, and quickly placed the bottle Nanny had given her on the grainy old wooden table that lay by one of the tower's many windows. She then set about dealing with the sheets on the floor. "Mum, I'm sorry, but I really don't feel well."
Elphaba ignored him again, resolutely turning to face the boy, blankets in hand, and placed them on top of him, doing her best to tuck him in. He looked truly wretched, his face flushed and shivering violently despite the many blankets placed upon him.
"Yes, well falling into a well generally does that to people." She snapped, grabbing a pillow from the floor, and with a gentleness she didn't know she possessed, placed it behind his head. The boy smiled slightly, his gaze looking quite hazy.
"I didn't fall in." Elphaba looked sharply at Liir, her face suspicious. She went and grabbed a stool from one end of the room and placed it at the end of the bed, her back leaning against the wall. She felt uncomfortable having to sit on the stiff wooden stool whilst her bed was otherwise occupied, but just folded her arms, trying to shove this feeling away as well.
"Oh?" She queried to which Liir nodded rapidly, some of his dark hair falling in front of his eyes.
"I was pushed." Knowing that Liir was hardly creative enough to lie, particularly in his current state, Elphaba had to concede to the fact that he was telling the truth.
"Who?"
"Manek." Liir said, spitting the name out as if it were some deadly curse on his tongue. Elphaba felt fury build-up inside her at the though of this bully trying to harm Liir, someone who would have been far too stupid to ignore Manek's actions. However instead of saying a word, she merely raised both thin eyebrows and let out a muffled sigh, trying to control herself.
"I thought as much. How are you feeling?" The boy thought about the question for a moment.
"Cold." Elphaba was surprised, and raised her pale green hand to the boy's forehead. Beads of sweat burnt small trails on her hand, and she quickly pulled away letting out a small hiss, and pulling her hand to her chest. Liir's eyes went wide, and he quickly shot out his hands trying to grab her hand.
"Mum!" She tried to pull away, but he was surprisingly resilient for a boy who was so ill, and brought her hand close inspecting it. His eyes, still distant, looked carefully at the small burns that spattered her emerald skin. For a moment Elphie was sure the boy would pull away from her in horror, but instead he gently touched one of the small burns, the tiny amount of pressure feeling fine on her skin. Sighing and leaning back on the bed, Liir dropped her hand gently. "Not too bad then."
The witch had no idea what to say to that, the boy was surprising her in ways she did not know possible. Not only did he appear concerned, but also he was not horrified by the hue of her skin in this delusional state.
She quickly got up, trying not to explore the warmth that swelled up in her chest at this thought. She grabbed the small bottle resting on the table, and grabbed a spoon she normally used to measure out some of her oils, quickly washing it in the bucked of rain water that lay in the corner of the room.
"Take this before you sleep." Liir eyed up the bottle nervously.
"Do I have to?" Elphie rolled her eyes at this. Why must children always be so petulant? On seeing the witch's expression Liir said nothing more on the matter, taking the spoonful that Elphaba shoved mercilessly in his mouth. He wanted to spit out the vile stuff straight away, but anticipating that this would not go down well he quickly swallowed.
Elphaba wanted to laugh at seeing his facial expressions as he tried to keep down the medicine, but tried to hold her tongue. The boy really could be far too oversensitive. He let out a small splutter of a cough, and scrunched up his face. Elphaba raised one thin eyebrow at him.
"Better?" The boy said nothing. He had almost instantly fallen asleep, and she couldn't help but smile at that. On realising the small-unwanted grin had settled on her face she quickly stood up, and crossed the room. "Keep it together Elphaba!" She mumbled, slamming the small bottle down onto the wooden table, "He starts calling you Mum and you fall to pieces! You don't even know if he's yours…" She muttered, but knew she was lying to herself once again. Sighing she turned around and faced the boy, looking at him carefully.
He WAS a bit chubby, but that was honestly to be expected on a seven year old; she had been the same when she was that age she was sure, and now she was as thin as a twig. He had her hair too she supposed, and looked very much like her father. To be honest, now she was looking at the boy properly he did look very much like her family; she couldn't understand how she'd missed it before. There was a small bit of Fiyero in him as well, not a lot, but the way he looked sometimes when he was upset or confused, it reminded her eerily of her dead lover. She hardly blinked whilst staring at him, trying to reconnect the fuses to the feelings and thoughts she had pushed away when it came to Liir.
"I am a mother." She said sounding far more surprised than she thought she had reason to feel. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about the possibility before, or even admitted to herself that it was pretty likely that Liir was hers, but right now she felt it was true more than anything else ever would. The sudden wave of affection she felt for the small child she had only really encountered once before, and that was with Fiyero. The boy was hers, she had truly known this the moment he had been pulled out of that godforsaken well, she just hadn't admitted it to herself until now.
She felt her chest constrict at the thought, and suddenly felt quite lightheaded. She wanted to lie down, but her bed was occupied – the stool would have to do. It was getting late now, and dark outside. The seasons were strange in the Vinikus, alternating between extreme heat and cold as the year progressed, unlike the dry weather usually expected in Munchkinland or perpetual rain and cloud-covered skies seen in Quadling country. Right now it became dark quite early, and there was a slight chill in the air.
She grabbed one of the woollen blankets off the bed, feeling pretty confident that the boy wouldn't miss it and fell into an uneasy sleep full of unsettling dreams about dirty, burning water and dark, never-ending wells.
Elphaba wasn't sure if it was the cold or the little boy's screams that woke her first. It was all of a sudden quite chilly in the room, and she could see the air forming light puffs of moisture in front of her eyes. Her neck was feeling sore from its unusual sleeping position on the wall, and she could feel a decisive kink in her back where it had remained in the same place for too long. She groaned, her voice being lost in the loud and tortured screams coming from the boy beside her.
The Witch quickly looked at the boy, and had no idea of what she should do. He was tossing and turning in his sleep, quite evidently having a nightmare – Elphie had had enough of those in the past few years to recognise that immediately. The sheets had been abandoned at the foot of the bed by the child, meaning he must now be freezing.
Hesitantly Elphaba stretched out an arm, and placed her hand on the writhing boy's shoulder, trying to shake him awake to no avail. Feeling some emotion deep down tug in anguish at her heart, she tried harder, this time with both hands.
"Liir! Liir! Wake up!" She shouted at him, grabbing his shoulders with both hands, and pulling him to her chest in some random outburst of motherly affection. The boy kept on flailing, and Elphie kept on calling his name, trying to shake him awake in her embrace. The tears were burning at her skin through her gown, but she found she didn't care. Only concentrating on keeping the boy safe from the terrors of the night that had invaded his mind.
Eventually the flailing stopped, only to be replaced by muffled sobs, as the little boy grabbed onto tufts of the black material, in an effort to get closer to the Witch. Elphie seeing what the boy was trying to do pulled him closer and rested her chin on his head, whispering to him.
"Hush now, you're alright…" The boy nodded, his sobs gradually subsiding, until he grudgingly pulled away from Elphaba. Her heart sank as he tried to get away from her, and the hurt flashed momentarily across her face, until she brought it back to its neutral position.
"I-I'm sorry…" The boy stuttered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand uselessly, as the tears continued to fall.
"It's alright. What were you dreaming about?" Liir looked startled by the sudden gentleness in the witch's voice; something he had never before heard unless it was for the ears of Nanny and Chistery.
"Um, I, it was…" He broke off, making no sense even to his own ears. His face blushed red with embarrassment, and the boy edged slowly further away from Elphaba, clearly not wanting her to comment on his sudden lapse in vocabulary.
"Was it the well?" She asked carefully, to which the boy only nodded his bottom lip trembling, before he submerged his head into the confines of his lap. Elphie shook her head up to the heavens, willing whatever existed of the Unnamed God to give her some more resolve to deal with the tears falling from her son's face. She sighed deeply and opened up her arms, "Come here."
The boy looked at her for a moment, wide eyes confused, before darting into her embrace, as if he were afraid Elphaba would change her mind at any moment. She hugged him close to her once more, glad to feel her son wrapped safe in her arms. That thought alone startled her; she never thought she could feel this way about a child, let alone Liir. It was strange, a few hours ago she wouldn't have cared much what happened to him, and right now she felt this overwhelming desire to keep the child safe.
"Manek will be severely punished when I next see him!" Elphaba muttered, mostly to herself, but partially to calm the boy down. However Liir merely snorted from his position in her chest, and Elphaba scowled. "That was disgusting." Liir laughed at that, and moved his head from where he was positioned so that he could look at her. There were tear tracks etched onto his face, which was still an unnatural white, and his eyes were all puffed up, but at least now there was a small smile on his face.
"Don't. I may not like him very much, but nobody deserves what you are thinking!" Liir said teasingly, and Elphaba glared at him, although there was a small glint of a smile shining through her eyes.
"You only have suspicions. Besides, the horrible child would deserve whatever I would give him." Liir still smiled, although the expression now didn't quite meet his eyes. Elphaba looked at the boy curiously, sensing that something was on his mind. "What's wrong? What is it?" Liir shrugged, avoiding her gaze and staring at a point of the floor. "Liir!" Elphaba said sternly, turning the boy's face with one hand to meet her eyes. The boy looked uncomfortable, and opened his mouth to say something before quickly closing it again. Liir sighed, and tried again.
"Are you my mother?" Elphaba was sure that her heart had stopped. She had never felt as exposed as she did in that one moment. Liir was looking at her, his bright blue eyes wide and questioning. He looked so much like Fiyero at that moment, that there would have been no use denying him the truth even if she HAD wanted to. Her mouth felt increasingly dry, and she didn't dare herself to speak so she just nodded, softly and gently but enough to give Liir the conformation he was looking for.
The boy nodded, and pulled away from Elphaba, causing her heart to sink once more. How was it that only the slightest unwelcome movements from the boy really cut her deeply? Maybe it was because she was scared of rejection by her son?
"Why did you never tell me?" Elphaba opened her mouth, but could think of nothing really to say. I wasn't sure you were my son, seemed like a flimsy excuse now she thought about it, and one that wouldn't really be truly understood by the seven year old that was for sure.
"I though you would hate me for being your mother…" The words stuttered out of her mouth, and she immediately wished she hadn't said it. She was shocked by her own admission, and could not believe she had told Liir this. Liir looked confused rather than hurt by the words however.
"Why?" Elphaba could feel tears pricking at her eyes, but she was determined not to cry. She sighed and shook her head taking away the feeling in one swoop. Mechanically she then stood up and got off the bed.
"That is…personal. To bed with you, you need your sleep." The words came out sounding like an order, and Liir knew better than to refuse one of Elphaba's requests and grabbed the sheets from the end of the bed, pulling them close.
Elphaba headed over to the window, determined to look at something that wasn't the boy. She was shivering lightly, but didn't think too much of it. The cold rarely bothered her. Light was peaking up through the mountains surrounding the castle, and with that the promise of yet another day imprisoned here. She was becoming tired of the place, and the people who inhabited the castle. She was getting ready to leave, and would undoubtedly take Liir and Nanny with her if they were willing to go. She wasn't sure where yet, but she would figure it out.
She came here searching for forgiveness, but was starting to realise she would never find it. At least not from Sarima, but from Liir…
"You are wrong you know. I do not hate you Mum."
And with that the Witch smiled. It was a new day, and who knew what that would bring.
Forgiveness? Perhaps.