Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Written: 2005 Found: 2017- Licia

He walked past a newsstand in downtown Nest Hardings; however, the front page of a newspaper caught his eye and he picked it up.

KAURI ELPHABA FOUND; RETURNS TO FLIAAN TO TAKE THE THRONE!

After paying for the newspaper, he headed towards the Corn Exchange. Once inside, he removed his coat and fixed a cup of coffee on the potbelly stove, before taking a seat on the bedroll and turning to the newspaper in his hand. He quickly skimmed the article, his heart twisting as he continued to read of the preparations- for though Fliaan was now a republic, they were not fully opposed to having a 'constitutional monarchy'- more like a living figurehead, Fiyero thought. There would be a constitution, and a Congress, in essence, and Elphaba would be considered the Head of State.

"I wish her all the best." He sighed, setting the newspaper aside and lying back to stare at the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts in order. It had been three weeks since he left the City, leaving Elphaba to her own devices and her family and returned to Nest Hardings. Though he had managed to blend back into the fabric of the small city he'd lived in since he was fourteen, he still couldn't get her out of his head; everywhere he turned, he thought he saw her; he heard her voice on the wind, smelled her scent in the blankets of his bed, felt her touch in the material of his clothes.

You walked away from the woman you love; you left her to fend for herself in the City. You abandoned her.

He swallowed thickly. You did what you had to. You walked away for her, because her place is there, with her family, in Fliaan, and not with you. Despite what happened in the past, her place is on the throne, and your place is here. Even though you were raised believing you would be her betrothed, that was a decade ago, when her family still ruled. You no more belong with her than you do on the throne.

After a moment, he got up, grabbing his pocket watch to check the time. At some point, the small emerald pendant had fallen off the chain, and he hadn't been able to find it. He must have lost it in the hotel room before he left, that was the only logical explanation.

Around one in the afternoon.

Pushing himself to his feet, he set his cup on the stove and then grabbed his coat and left, going out for a walk.


The return to Fliaan was making her sick to her stomach. More so for the fact that she was essentially going back alone, without her husband by her side. The new congressional parliament had been told of her marriage to the former Vinkun Crown Prince- for Fiyero's twenty-fifth birthday had come and gone, and though he had married, he hadn't returned to his family to provide proof, such as a marriage certificate; instead, he'd vanished, leaving the throne to his younger brother, Trism, who was happy to take the throne.

After several weeks, the train finally pulled into the Imperial Station, and she found herself following Glinda, her aunt and uncle, and her grandmother out onto the platform, where a crowd of reporters waited to bombard her with questions. She backed up against Glinda, taking the blonde's hand.

"Kauri! Kauri, over here!"

"How did you survive the revolution, Kauri? Do you know where your parents and siblings are? Did they survive as well?"

"Kauri!"

Flashbulbs crackled and popped, and she felt her heart begin the speed up, the scent of gunpowder accompanying each crackle. She grew lightheaded, being drawn back to that night in the basement of the governor's mansion, when her family was slaughter for simply being royal, and she was saved by a blow to the head by the boy she loved. She dug her nails into Glinda's palm, and the blonde squeaked.

"Glinda..."

"Fabala, what is it?" The blonde moved closer, concerned.

"... copper... it smells like... like copper..."

Suddenly understanding, she turned to her father, who quickly rushed to Elphaba's side and wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her other hand. He pushed through the crowd of reporters as Partra's servants pushed the reporters out of the way. Once they were in the town car, Elphaba sat back, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

"It's okay, Fabala, you're okay." Glinda whispered softly, brushing her fingers through the raven locks. Elphaba shook her head, meeting Glinda's gaze as the others settled in their seats beside them.

"A photograph."

"What?"

Elphaba met her cousin's gaze, tears in her eyes. "They... told us that... that we were going to be posing for a photograph, so that our relatives would... would know that we were okay..." She sniffled. "It was... it was a lie... to distract us... before they started... started firing..."

Glinda gathered the girl to her chest, holding her close. "Shh, it's okay Fabala. You're okay."


They pulled up in front of a small apartment complex; the apartment would be Elphaba's temporary housing until she could move into the palace. Though, Partra informed her, if she liked the apartment, she could keep it even after moving into the palace. "The palace?" She turned to her grandmother as they stood in front of the apartment building in the heart of the capital of Fliaan. The country had changed so much since Elphaba's parents had ruled over it; a communist party had taken control, even while a republic fought to be born from the ashes of the revolution.

Taking Glinda's hand, Elphaba let Illnora and Manek lead them into the sprawling apartment complex and up to what would be her temporary home. They had arrived at the back of the building, in an unmarked car, so as not to draw attention to Elphaba. No one paid them any mind. Once they entered the apartment, she let go of Glinda's hand and proceeded to wander among the rooms, modest furniture filled the rooms, and Elphaba couldn't help the tiny smile on her face at the sight of the cot in what was supposed to be her room.

She quickly made her bed, smoothing the blanket. Frexpar wanted his family to live as simply as possible, despite their royal standing. So the family slept on cots instead of lavish beds; took baths in tin buckets with water that had to be heated on the stove, and ate what the people ate- because, if it was good enough for the Samraat, then it was good enough for the Fliaanian people, in Frexpar's mind.

She reached out, running a hand over the embroidery on the quilt; it was one of her grandmother's.

Fiyero would have loved this apartment; it's just big enough for two.

"I never understood how you and your siblings could sleep on such hard cots." Glinda said, watching her. She turned to the blonde.

"That's because as long as you can remember, you slept on fluffy, big beds, Glinda. Papa insisted that we live simply, despite the fact that we were the rulers of Fliaan. Though we were allowed some luxuries- clothing, jewels, whatever we wished, but when it came to the basics, we lived by Papa's word."

"You'll meet with the members of Parliament tomorrow, Fabala." Partra spoke up, regretting breaking into her granddaughter's memories. "For now, get some rest. Glinda will stay with you."

"Everything an empress needs is here, from clothing to food to things to entertain herself." Glinda replied, bouncing on her toes, for she'd helped get the apartment ready. Elphaba met her cousin's eye, giving her a strained smile.

Everything except the one thing she wants, she thought. Or, one person, rather.