Chapter 10. Some Greek Tragedy
Rifiuto: Non Miriena
Question: what? oh wait.. for WHEN they die.. right?
Answer: yes, for when they die
Question: is fae going to suffer like elphaba did?
Answer: yes, just, not as much as her mother.......
Thanks to -greenTARDISgal-, Elphaba1Fan, lizziemagic, and witch-of-the-west9482 for reviewing 9.
Fiyero sighed.
He wished Elphaba was awake, she'd be able to get Fae to see reason better than he would. But she wasn't. So he was dealing with this the only way he could.
He led his daughter out of the cemetery and into the rose garden. Once there, Fae sat on the bench, watching her father examine the roses. This rose garden was where they'd concieved Fae, where they spent most of their time. Finally, he sighed, turning to her.
"When Mama and I were younger, when we were still at Shiz......not long after Mama got back to our time.....I......I....." He sighed, sitting next to his daughter.
"I found Mama in the canal. She'd....been having nightmares, and.....wanted to end it all, I assume. When we pulled her out of the canal, she was blistered, barely breathing." Her father stared at the roses, as if reliving that day.
"She slipped into a coma, and.....I stayed by her bed for six weeks, barely slept, didn't eat. Didn't do anything but care for her, waiting for her to wake up. There was a while there when... it looked like we were going to lose her. So Granda and Grandma bought the stones. One for Mama and one for me. If we lost her, well, I wouldn't have been able to live without her."
Fae gasped.
It had never occured to her that her parents would consider suicide if they lost the other. Especially her father. Fiyero seemed so strong, so brave. He was the man she'd remembered as a child, who had searched her closet for monsters, protected her from lightening, who had taken her side when she got in trouble with her mother. He was her hero. The thought that he was afraid, let alone weak, was something Fae had never considered.
Until now.
Now, she saw a side of her father she'd never seen before, not even in the past.
He wasn't king, he was a husband, worried about losing his wife. He was a father, afraid of losing the mother of his children.
He was afraid of losing his one true love.
"The stones aren't carved."
"I know. We don't want them carved. Not until it's time." He whispered. Fae saw tears glisten in her father's blue eyes, before sliding down his cheeks.
Gently, Fae reached up and wiped the tears away, ignoring the sting on her skin, like her mother would do. Fiyero met his daughter's eyes, and then cupped her cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Her shoulders shook, and she snuggled closer, feeling her father's fingers tangle in her long, black hair, safe, warm, protecting. Gently, Fiyero kissed his daughter's hair, softly humming the lullaby Elphaba would sing their daughter to sleep with.
It seemed to calm Fae, and it calmed Fiyero too.