Chapter 12.

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Question: Are you really going to kill Elphaba?

Answer: Okay, here's the thing... Elphie and Yero's journey took place in Journey On, correct? Well, their daughter- Pippa, has her own journey to go on; this is her journey. Her parents' journey has ended, while hers is beginning, so in order for her journey to really, truly take place, her mother has to pass away. I hate to kill Elphie off, but if I don't, her daughter's journey will never happen. I'm sorry.

Elements in 11? There were none

Elements in 12?

Thanks to kym667103 for reviewing 11.

"No. I won't allow it. I won't."

"I don't care about you're opinion. I want... to inspect my regiment."

The soldiers of the one-hundred-sixth Ketarzi looked up, their conversations coming to abrupt halts; they stood, straightening at the sight of their princess in her regimental uniform. She was no longer the fourteen-year-old girl they'd seen walk up that first day she came to inspect. She had grown up; she'd gone from a wife to a mother, but the change in her priorities didn't deter her, even now, twenty years after recieving her position as colonel-in-chief, she still delighted in inspecting her regiment.

Silent, they watched as she made her way towards them, leaning on her husband's arm.

Her uniform- the familiar navy blue skirt, emerald jacket with the black buttons, and the helmet tightened under her chin, the white feather curling over her head to brush against her cheek- seemed to drown her, she was pale and weak, and the sight of their princess, their precious colonel-in-chief, so near death horrified them. But none voiced their opinions, for she would scold. Instead, they stood and watched, noting the small spark in her eyes as she closed the distance between them. When she got close enough, she tried to move away from her husband, only to stumble. He caught her, and she gave him a small smile, thanking him.

But it, like the pain she was in, was fleeting.

She turned back to her regiment, and for a moment, they were staring at their beloved colonel; she was back, casting a critical eye to her men, as she slowly moved away from her husband, and watched them. The riding crop she held within her white gloved hands tapped gently against her palm as she studied the men, her eyes roaming to each individual, shooting to the slightest little detail out of place. After a moment, she took a careful step towards them; they waited with anticipation for her to speak. She cast a critical eye to each and every one of them, before nodding once.

"Very well. Fall out."

Then, she turned to her husband, who was at her side in an instant. He whispered with her softly, trying to steer her back to the palace, but she dug her heels in.

"I want to."

"You're too weak, Elphaba. You won't be able to stay upright- let alone on. It'd be better if you went inside and let Father or myself finish the inspection."

She looked at him, a glare on her pretty features. "No..." She turned away briefly, taking a deep breath. "This is my regiment, Yero. No one is going to inspect it but me." He met her eyes. "Now get my horse." He watched her for several minutes, opening his mouth to interject. "Do it, Yero." She ordered through clenched teeth. Small smiles flitted across the faces of the soldiers as their old colonel reared her head. Sighing, Fiyero gave in, and nodded to the stable master, who brought out the beautiful black stallion.

Once he was situated in front of them, Elphaba moved to mount when Fiyero grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. The worry in his eyes was clear.

"Please, Dove. Be careful."

She reached up, cradling his cheek in her hand; for a brief moment, the soldiers were witnessing a familiar tender moment between their colonel and her prince, it was an action very rarely seen now- mainly because Elphaba was confined to either the library or their room, resting. He pressed a kiss to her lips, before helping her mount the horse. The stallion- which Fiyero feared would buck- stood still, recognizing his mistress's familiar weight upon his back. Once she was seated, she looked down at her husband, a small, triumphant smile on her face. But suddenly it vanished, replaced with distress, and she reached out, grasping for something.

It happened so fast; one moment she was seated on the horse, and the next, she was falling, crumpling as she fell towards the ground. Several soldiers rushed forward; the two closest caught her; Fiyero pushed through the regiment, kneeling at his wife's side.

"Elphaba? Elphaba!"

Slowly, her eyes opened, and she stared into her husband's hazel eyes. The fall had briefly knocked her unconsious. The prince called for water, and once it was in hand, he held it to her lips as the soldiers sat her up. She drank greedily; dehydration had been the main cause of her collapse, coupled with the severe state her small body was in; she was too weak to continue the review, but she put her foot down.

She was going to review her regiment if she had to die in the process.

And from the way things were going, she probably would.

Fiyero shook his head. "No. No. I won't. I Won't. Allow. It." She met his eyes, saw the determination and worry clouding those hazel depths.

"Yero-"

"No, Fae. I won't allow it."

"But Yero-"

"No! It was too risky coming out and allowing you to inspect the regiment. I should have put my foot down then! You're not finishing the inspection, Elphaba!" He said, standing and holding out a hand to help her up. She batted his hand away.

"You can't do that! This is my regiment! You don't hear me ordering you to stop inspecting yours!"

"I'm. Not. Ill." She glared at him. "I'm not dieing, Elphaba! I have more strength than you do! I won't get hurt!"

When she was back on her feet, she moved to catch up to him, but her knees gave out, and the closest soldier steadied her.

"That's not fair, Yero!" She cried, watching him as he started to walk off. "I don't have much left that I can do! I can't go downstairs and help Candle because I can't walk down the stairs without help! I can't go play in the meadow with our daughter because my legs are weak! I can't sit in the library and read a book because it's getting too difficult to turn the pages! I can barely sew anymore!"

He had stopped, listening, hearing the tears in his wife's voice; tears that matched the ones gathering in his eyes. After a moment, he turned back to her. "I can't make love to you anymore because I don't have the strength; I can barely hold you in my arms at night..." Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath. "I can't do something as simple as braid my own daughter's hair... I have nothing left, Yero... and the little things I do have left... are going away at a rapid pace, day after day. Please, Yero..." She stopped, taking a deep breath. "This is all I have left that I can do, and do well. Inspect my regiment. Please, Yero, don't take this away from me- not now. It'll be gone before long anyway. Let me do this one last time... before I die... Yero, Please."

He didn't think, didn't speak, he just acted. In two strides, he was in front of her, holding her in his arms, burying his face in her thick raven hair. Everyone watched in silence, drinking in this tender moment between husband and wife. He pressed a kiss to her dark hair, tangling his fingers in the portion of the twist visible, loosening it. Eventually, he pulled away and cradled her face in his hands.

"I worry about you."

"I know, Yero." She whispered, reaching up a shaky hand to wipe away his tears.

"You Be. Careful." He ordered, pulling away and gently shaking her. "If you feel weak, signal and I'll come help you down. You understand?" She nodded. "You let me know if you feel weak or feel like you're going to collapse again, and I'll come help you down and take you back into the house. Okay?"

"I'll consider-"

"No, Elphaba. That's. An. Order."

The stern tone got to her, and she nodded. She may have been the colonel-in-chief to her regiment, but Fiyero was her husband; the Crown Prince. What he said, went. When their parents weren't around to make descisions, Fiyero stepped in. And she, as the Crown Princess, stepped in as the Mistress of Kiamo Ko when Chelseqa was gone; the servants would often run at the drop of a hat for either one of them, but right now, as weak as she was...

Fiyero took command, often stepping in for his wife when need be. But right now, right now, he wasn't stepping in for anyone except himself. The diminishing health of his wife nagged at him constantly, and her surviving this inspection was his top priority at the moment; he wasn't asking, or requesting or suggesting, he was ordering. Demanding.

If he had to sit behind her- like they'd do so often as they rode in the meadow- to get her to heed his order, then he would.

One look into her eyes told him that she'd heed his order, and finally able to let his worried thoughts uncoil slightly, he closed his eyes and kissed her gently. She reached up, laying her fingers against his cheek as he kissed her- a sign of her old self shining through this illness- and he covered her hand with his. When he pulled away, he pressed his cheek into her hand, and then kissed her forehead, before motioning the stable master to bring the horse over. Once again, he helped her up, and then when he was positive she was stable, he stepped back, allowing her to continue with the inspection.

She lasted for half an hour, before she turned to Fiyero.

"Yero?"

He looked up at her, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"What is it, Dove?" He asked softly, going to her and reaching up to take her hand. "Do you want to go back inside?" She shook her head.

"S... sit with me." She asked, fear in her eyes; fear that she wouldn't last much longer on her own before her body once again gave out on her and she crumpled from the horse. He nodded; in a matter of minutes, he was sitting behind her, holding her close. She looked back at him. "Can we-"

"Go on, Dove, continue." He whispered into her hair. She nodded, and turned back to her regiment. Perhaps it was Fiyero's protective, comforting hand on her waist, or the feel of his sturdy chest against her back, or the sound of his gentle breathing in her ear, but whatever the reason, Elphaba found the strength to finish the inspection.

She saw the smiles on her soldiers' faces as they rode by; all seemed to be rejoicing silently in the sight of their princess with her husband; with his strength, she was able to finish. Eventually, they stopped in front of the troops, and Elphaba nodded to them. Tears in her eyes, she looked around at the men who had made up her regiment since she was fourteen. She'd gotten to know several of them personally, and even considered them good friends. After a moment, she took a shaky breath.

"Thank you."

Her whisper was breathless, tear-filled, loving. It was one final goodbye to the men of her regiment before she passed away.