Rifiuto: Non Miriena
Written: 2005 Found: 2017- Licia
She lay on the cot in her bedroom of the apartment, unable or unwilling to move. Every part of her ached, as though she had come down with the chills or a fever, and couldn't find the strength.
"Fabala, are you ready-" Glinda stopped in the doorway, seeing her cousin still in bed. "You're supposed to be up and ready. They will be here soon to make sure your dress fits properly before we head to the palace. It's your coronation today, remember?"
But she didn't say a word, didn't move to get up. Instead, she burrowed further under the covers, and Glinda heard the soft sound of sniffling.
"Oh, Fabala." After a moment, the blonde entered the room, perching on the end of the cot. "You need to get up, darling. Your coronation is today. You become empress, aren't you excited?"
The princess glanced over her shoulder at the girl, before returning her head to the pillow. She clutched the pendant tight in her hand, and her eyes were red and puffy. She'd woken that morning with Fiyero's scent in her nose, his touch on her skin, and his voice in her head, only to find herself alone. Just go away, Glinda, please. Coronation or no, leave me be today, I beg of you.
"Fabala, sweetie, are you okay? Darling, talk to me. Please." But her cousin said nothing. It wasn't until Partra entered that the blonde reacted. "Something's wrong with Fabala, she won't move, and the coronation ceremony is today. Should I fetch the doctor?"
Partra joined the young woman, reaching out the gently brush a hand through her granddaughter's hair. It took only a few moments before she realized what was wrong. "No, the doctor isn't needed. What she needs is a cold bath."
"What's going on, Your Majesty?" Glinda asked, as Partra got up. The dowager turned back to the girl after summoning a maid. "Why is she acting like this?"
The older woman swallowed. She knew very well what it was; she'd experienced it herself when her husband died. "It's called 'soul sick'."
"'Soul sick? I've never-"
"It's when two soulmates are separated; because they are the other half of each other's souls, they cannot bear to be apart once found. They must be together, otherwise the pain is... unbearable. They are no longer together, and therefore, their souls are incomplete. Many an empire has fallen due to soulmates, but many more have been built because of them."
Glinda stood, turning back to her cousin. "So... because Fiyero's soul is her soul's mate-"
"When he left, she began to feel the pain of being apart. Now that they are officially separated by country and destiny, the pain is unbearable, and as of now, there is nothing neither can do. They either work through the pain or reunite to end it-"
"And given how stubborn both are, reuniting might not be possible." Glinda finished, and Partra nodded.
"The only pain in regards to a soulmate worse than separation, death. I pray that neither Fiyero nor Fabala ever has to experience that pain, because since they've found each other, I don't know that either would recover if the other died. Leave her be for a few moments." After a moment, Glinda followed the older woman, casting a worried glance back at her cousin as she closed the door behind her.
Once alone, she choked on a sob, burying her face in the pillow.
"Mama says we're soulmates."
"What are soulmates?"
"I guess we share souls."
They sat down on the steps of the Thropp's summer palace, watching her siblings and his younger brother run around in the waves. She glanced at him. "Why?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Mama might have an answer."
He stood, holding out a hand and helping her up. They rushed down the steps, unaware that they were still holding hands. "Mama! Mama!" Locasta looked up as her son and the middle Kauri rushed over to them, hands linked. She smiled softly, sharing a look with Melena, before pretending to have not noticed.
"What is it, Yero my darling?" The boy turned to his companion, biting his lip.
"Can you explain soulmates again?"
Glinda and Partra looked up as the bedroom door opened and Elphaba stepped out. She met Partra's gaze, taking a deep breath before turning to the maid. Without a word, she turned and strode back into her room, the maids following, one of them carrying her coronation dress. She stood silently as they helped her undress and then into her undergarments before moving onto her coronation gown. It took all she had to keep from dressing herself, since she'd spent so many years without servants or help.
"It must be quite exciting, Kauri, becoming Empress." One of the maids said, trying to cheer her up. "Isn't it?"
Elphaba glanced at her. "I guess it is." She replied, deadpan. "If you actually wish to be."
The maids shared a glance. "Is everything all right, Your Majesty?"
The young princess took a deep breath. "No, everything's fine."
Once finished, the maids opened the door and allowed her to join her grandmother and cousin. Glinda covered her mouth, gasping in shock, and Partra felt tears come to her eyes.
The young woman that stood before her reminded her so much of Melena, it was as though she was looking at a living portrait of her deceased daughter-in-law. The dress was of beautiful, floral patterned silver brocade with an emerald green underskirt. Similar to the court dresses she wore as a child, they were off the shoulder, the sleeves open, and the train was roughly four feet in length, but unlike the court dresses she and her sisters had grown up wearing, there was no sash going from her shoulder across her chest to her hip. Her hair was pulled back in beautiful black curls, and she wore few jewels- around her neck, was the emerald cipher Fiyero had taken the day he'd left her in the Munchkinland field; she had on a pair of silver satin heels, and her makeup was subtle.
Slowly, she met her grandmother's gaze, tears in her eyes. I... I don't believe I want to do this... please, don't make me.
"Oh, Fabala, you look... beautiful." Glinda breathed, and Partra nodded, unable to say anything. After a moment, Partra held out a hand to her granddaughter.
"Well, shall we?"
She merely nodded, her heart breaking.
