Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.
Alrighty, here's the next one finally! This one required me to get around one of my issues that some of you probably already heard (or saw) me mention before- I CANNOT invent my own languages. Therefore, since I can't always just say that "the witch cast a spell" and leave it at that, I think I'm going to do them in German. I've been listening obsessively to the German cast of Wicked (which is funny, because I used to think that language was hideous), and fallen completely in love with it (hint hint- so should you!!), so I wanted to just pick random cool-sounding words from the songs and use those as spells. But then I found out that some of the words I wanted to use meant things like "dreamy"- not exactly the most suited to someone who's trying to murder Elphie:P So I had to use accurate (hopefully) German. Anyway, enjoy and try to get past the fact that most of you probably think German's the ugliest thing ever :-)
Oh, and thanks for all the reviews last time!! I seriously love you guys.
Lamia hovered in the shadows at the edge of the clearing, her cloak blending seamlessly into the blackness, until the crowd around the Thropp Manor dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a barren graveyard of ashes and rubble.
The enchantress stepped from her hiding place at last and advanced toward the deserted ruins. She stretched out her hand, her fingers tense with excitement, and commanded imperiously, "Buch antiker Hexerei- komm zu mir!"
She waited expectantly, already glowing with triumph- but nothing happened. She tried again; still nothing. Perhaps there was another guard placed on the book…but no, if the girl was dead- and she was dead- her spell would have died along with her. 'It can't be possible…' "I burned you alive," she hissed into the darkness.
She dug furiously through the piles of ash, searching every inch of the charred and blackened ground. But there was nothing.
The girl must have escaped.
Lamia threw back her head and sent a piercing cry of frustration into the night. How was this possible? The wench was supposed to be dead, burnt to a crisp!
Oh, but she would be found. The girl would be found, and she would suffer for this inconvenience.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Elphaba woke with a pounding ache in her head. She sat up unsteadily, gasping as the room tilted dizzily. With her sharp inhalation came an equally sharp pain in her chest; no doubt her lungs were not yet accustomed to fresh air. And her throat…her throat was on fire, drier than the Vinkus in July.
"Water," she croaked. She had to find water.
Oddly enough, water found her a moment later. She took the proffered glass readily from a pair of hands that had materialized in front of her, draining it quickly, and then handed it back. On second examination, she found that the hands were rather large, and strong-looking, almost like….male hands. She'd never had a fondness for men, what with their rough demeanor, bullheaded stupidity, and tendency towards abuse. So what was he doing here?
Then it all came rushing back to her- her mysterious rescuer, a hazy, barely conscious memory of riding stealthily through the woods in the night….'Where in Oz am I?'
Elphaba took in her surroundings; she appeared to be in some sort of hotel room. Her eyes circled the room before coming to rest apprehensively on the man who knelt by her bedside. He was beautiful; she noticed that right away. Not that it meant anything, of course; men were all the same- monsters like her father. But was he actually…smiling?
Unnerved, her natural coarseness took over. "Well?" she demanded. "The green thing is awake now. Isn't it time to run screaming?"
He didn't move, only stared at her like she'd grown another head. 'Well, it's a start,' she thought grimly, mistaking the reason for the stare. But he still wasn't moving. She frowned. "What are you waiting for?"
Still he stayed put. "Elphaba, what are you talking about?" He spoke gently, as if talking to someone who was either sick or very confused. "Why would I run?"
Indignant about being spoken to like an invalid, she said rudely, as though it should be obvious, "Because that's what everybody does. Don't worry; I won't be offended. One close-minded imbecile is just like the next."
"Well, I am not everyone. Your father tried to let you burn to death last night, and whether you want my help or not, I'd be in no way decent if I didn't at least get you to safety." Fiyero tried to be patient, in light of what she'd just gone through, and because of the way he knew she'd been treated all of her life; such treatment was bound to make even the sweetest person a bit difficult.
Elphaba, it seemed, was going to more than just a bit difficult about this. "But you don't even know me," she protested, irritated at his persistence; she wanted nothing to do with this man. What was his problem anyway?
He merely shrugged. "I'd do the same for anyone." 'That's not entirely true,' a voice in the back of his head nagged, but he ignored it.
Baffled, Elphaba could only stare at him. Surely he was bluffing, right? She'd never met anyone who could honestly say he would save any complete stranger from a burning house and then take them "to safety", wherever that was. "Who are you?"
"My name's Fiyero."
She arched an eyebrow. "Just Fiyero?"
Fiyero hesitated. People tended to treat him differently when they knew who he was; he'd never been able to get to know someone without the barrier of his title standing between them. And he thought he might like to get to know this girl, regardless of how prickly she was. At the very least, he thought she could use a friend. "Yes. Just Fiyero."
"Well, Fiyero, I think you're just about the craziest and most bewildering man I've ever met." Her expression softened. "But I suppose I should thank you. I don't know anyone else who would've done that for me."
That was the clincher for Fiyero; she obviously needed him, if she was that deprived of basic human kindness. He started to tell her that she was welcome, that he'd do it again, but she interrupted him. "But I'm leaving now."
Fiyero's mouth popped open slightly. "What?"
"You heard me." Elphaba got up and started toward the door. She froze midway there and whirled. The Grimmerie- where was the Grimmerie? She cast her eyes frantically around the room, and spotted her pouch lying open on the bed. She snatched it up and spun to face Fiyero. "Did you look at this?"
Fiyero took an involuntary step backwards at the wild look in her eyes, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I was only curious as to what was so important that it was the one thing you tried to save from the fire. I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd mind-"
"I do mind!" she snapped. She lowered her voice to a threatening whisper. "Do you have any idea what this is?"
"An old book?" he guessed, oblivious to what was so significant about the worn-down old thing.
Elphaba's face went blank then, her fury melting away to reveal a weariness acquired from years of living with fear and secrecy. "Yes…an old book." 'An old book that you should pray you never see again,' she added silently. 'A book that could mean the death of you if you do. And me…it'll be the death of me too.' She had to get away. Now.
Elphaba headed quickly for the door again. "Wait. Elphaba!" Fiyero latched onto her arm. She struggled wildly, and he locked his arms around her waist to prevent her from escaping. "Elphaba, stop, just-"
"Let me go!" She beat his chest, determined to get away. 'Who does he think he is?' What right did he have to stop her?
"I'm not letting you leave. I didn't rescue you only to have you wander around the streets until you're murdered by some crazy person or die of starvation. You have no money, no horse. Where would you go?"
Elphaba went limp as his words sank in. He was right- where would she go? To the Vinkus, yes, but where would she stay with no money? And how would she even get there? The hopelessness of her situation came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks, and she sagged under the weight of the burden that no one else could ever share. Fiyero supported her back to the bed, and she sank onto it weakly. "Elphaba?" he said anxiously.
"Why couldn't you have just let me die?" she choked out, hugging herself protectively. "I want to be dead!" A sob tore from her chest, followed by another, and soon she collapsed onto her stomach on the bed, her shoulders shaking convulsively with the sobs that she couldn't control.
Fiyero rubbed her back as she cried, albeit awkwardly at first, but it was soothing none-the-less. Lying on a strange bed, being comforted by a strange man as she cried her heart out for the first time since her mother's death, Elphaba realized just how dangerous this situation had become. All of her life, she'd been able to rely on her coloring to keep the world at bay; if her skin and her rudeness wouldn't scare him away, then what would? It would be all too easy to learn to care for the one person in her life since her mother who didn't shrink away from her in disgust. And that couldn't happen; she wouldn't allow it. Lamia could be on her trail right now, for all she knew, and his life was already in danger simply for associating with her.
She would have to run.
If you, like Elphie, are feeling rather short on affection, push the little button and I'm sure it will love you forever! :P So will I, for what it's worth.