A/N: Short. Kind of a filler, bit boring, but it's leading to something else. I'll get back to Elphie and Glinda soon, don't worry! Btw, if anyone has any plot bunnies hopping around in their brains, I would greatly appreciate some input!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
The curtains were drawn close, the air stifling. The room smelled strongly of leather, old books and, most overpoweringly, whiskey. I felt so out of place in my drooping white nightie, surrounded by such deep polished wood and grandeur. The study's occupant sat at his antique desk, head looking morbidly suspended in a grey cloud of tobacco smoke.
"Daddy?"
A grunt of reply.
"Can I speak with you please?"
Another grunt. I approached the desk, gripping the back of the straight-backed chair that fronted Sir Chuffrey's desk. Stepping cautiously in front of it, I climbed with difficulty onto the raised lap. I looked into my father's face for the first time in days. His eyes were ringed, beard overgrown and shabby. His already pink face was tinged red with heat and frustration. I considered leaving, but the thought of Mummy kept me there- she may not know it, but she needed my help now.
"What is it that you want, Eden?" He spoke curtly, businesslike. I had been long used to him refering to me by my second name- he didn't approve of Mum naming me without him having a say in the matter. It was something they still rowed about... When they were speaking at all, that is.
"Are you all right Daddy? You look a bit, um, tired." I spoke to my folded hands. I don't know how other daughters spoke to their fathers, but my Daddy had always been a little bit intimidating. He is a ghostlike presence in the house- always there, at dinners and during the afternoons; but out of reach somehow, buried behind the Oz Times or writing important letters of business to... Well, whoever he wrote them to. Still, he was always someone to respect and look up to with quiet admiration- the man before me seemed a mere shadow of his former self, changed, defeated.
He sighed leisurely.
"It's that bloody Witch. The Wizard had us track her all the way down into the Vinkus- bloody dangerous country, and so uncivilised too- and we turn up to find that she's gone. Poof. Vanished. Some kid, freaky name, "Nore" or something barbaric, told us she was off to find her never-forgotten "true love". Bunch of codswallop, if you ask me. Still, His Highness is furious, and us upper men have to bear the brunt of it. Why am I telling you this anyway? You're just a stupid kid."
He seemed to be talking to himself now, but I didn't have enough blood left in my head to notice.
Are you related to The Wicked Witch of the West, Auntie Elphaba?
Hush, Faba!
And now she was here. All the way from the Vinkus. How many green women could Oz possibly hold? And she was evil enough, that's for sure.
Daddy can't know, Fabala.
Maybe I understood the intensity of her words now.
"Eden?" Daddy was staring down his broad nose at me. "I said, what is it that you wanted?"
"I..I..Have to tell you something Daddy. But I can't. Not now."
"Always mumbling on about nothing, just like your bloody mother. Honest to Oz, I don't know how I let that witch raise you..."
"Daddy! Don't talk about Mummy like that! She's NOT a witch!" I was screaming now, the pressure in my head combing with misplaced anger and a fresh trail of terror.
"Get out. Get out! I will not be spoken to like this in my own house."
"There's a woman in Mum's room!"
His face fell suddenly, my hands sprung upwards, covering my criminal mouth.
"What do you mean, a woman?"
I sat stock still, my whole body squirming for release from this leather-cased prison.
"Is your mother... With a... What do you mean, woman?"
He shook my shoulders roughly, making me cry. Still I left him unanswered.
"ANSWER ME!" He slapped me full across the face. I gasped, and suddenly wondered how I'd missed the tinge of whiskey on his breath and that familiar glint in his eye. And now I'd set him off- how could I have been so selfish? Mum really was in trouble now, and I didn't even want to know what he would do to Elphaba.
"Foolish little girl. I'll go see myself."
He swung open his door, and stormed out into the passage.
"GLINDA! COME HERE!"
Silence.
"GLINDA! WOMAN, I AM YOUR HUSBAND AND YOU WILL OBEY ME!"
He was banging on her door now, the locks straining under the pressure of his weighty forearms. I stood watching from a distance, clutching onto my hair and still crying from his last attack. I was used to him hitting Mum- but he'd never touched me before.
He kicked at the plaster, and the hinges swung open. I followed him into the room, praying harder than I had ever before that Elphaba was gone; that Elphaba had died; anything that would leave Mum in a good position.
But instead, there was nothing. Not a note, not an empty cupboard, not a goodbye. Only the window, the huge West-facing window, open to the night breeze, curtains dancing in the wind, teasing us.
You I've missed for twelve.
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