A/N: I was on vacation, okay? So now that I'm back…here's the next installment. They may be coming less often, but that's because I've been trying to make them longer. So, with just a small bit of further ado…
Disclaimer: GM owns this- General Motors, of course, what did you think it stood for? No, I'm only kidding. Gregory Maguire owns this, and I am not him, therefore I do not own this. Savvy? (sorry. Pirates of the Caribbean. My sister adores that movie, and she's very Glinda-esque, thus the italics).
Fiyero and I began chipping away at the lock of the cell door with anything we could find. It was mostly small rocks, and the guards confiscated these whenever they caught us at it, and threatened to tie us up, though it was clear that they didn't really consider our endeavors any genuine threat to security. But even so, it was slow work.
Three months passed painstakingly in this way. We estimated me to be six or seven months along. We kept chipping at the damn lock, even knowing as we did how futile it was- even if we did manage to break it, it would be months before I could run.
My dress had long since ripped at the waist. Consequently, I wore Fiyero's shirt, and the remainder of the dress functioned nominally as a skirt. We slept in short patches, not for long stretches of time, and always woke each other, afraid of what might happen if one of us was taken while the other slept.
Fiyero wrote letters, or tried to. The floor was littered with them. Somehow the guards had learned about Sarima, and it amused them to no end, so they gave him paper.
Dear Sarima:
You can have the castle. You can have Irji, Manek, and Nor, just let me-
Dear Sarima:
You know we never had a choice in who we married, but we should have a choice in with whom we fall in love, and I-
Dear Sarima:
You deserve your own love. Don't let me rob you of the chance to-
Dear Sarima:
I have been having an affair and I have to-
Dear Sarima:
I'm dead.
-Fiyero
This was getting frustrating.
Dear Sarima:
This is from Elphaba. You may have heard of me from Fiyero. You see, the thing is, Fiyero and I have…
That's where he ripped the paper from my hand. Finally, he managed to write one that he was satisfied with.
Dear Sarima: DO NOT SHOW THIS LETTER TO IRJI, MANEK, OR NOR!
To start off with, I'm all right. I've been imprisoned. It's a long story, but I'm going to tell it, or parts of it, anyway.
You remember Elphaba, from Shiz? The green girl from Munchkinland, Miss Nessarose's older sister, who disappeared sophister year?
Well, a short while ago, I found her and followed her until she told me what was going on. She worked for the Resistance. We fell in love. We had an affair- still are having one, in fact. I'm sorry, but I love her and I chose her. You, too, should get to love someone of your choice. But on with the story.
One day, the Gale Force caught me in her home. They began beating me, and I nearly passed out. When she came in, they arrested her and dragged us to Southstairs. Turns out, by the way, she's also pregnant. So, I just thought you ought to know.
Fiyero
The guards sent it off, or said they did.
Fiyero laughed like a maniac.
"Are you…all right?" I asked. I wasn't sure about this. I didn't like it. I didn't think I was anything close to worth it.
"Brilliant, Fae, brilliant!" he cried. I raised an eyebrow.
"I'm free!" he yelled. The eyebrow went higher. I inclined my head at the locked cell door.
"Well, emotionally."
"Emotionally, it would appear that you've been free for quite a while."
"Well, sort of."
I raised my eyebrow again, pretending offense. I was teasing, though. I knew what he meant.
He sighed. "You know what I meant."
See?
I had a sudden burst of déjà vu, though I knew I'd never lived this moment.
Words are words, and what's said's said.
My mother's voice.
Nanny said I had a full set of, as she put it, demon teeth, when I was born, and that she'd always thought I'd understood everything she and my parents said, even in infancy. Even before?
But I was not my mother.
I inclined my head again, towards him.
"Yes," I said, "I do."