Title: Entertaining Destiny
Author: Aerohead
Email: capricornangel at yahoo
Website: aw, just look in my profile because the editor's being a prat and won't let me put my URL in.
Pairing: Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Fiyero, Glinda/OC, OC/OC
Rating: PG – PG13
Disclaimer/Dedication: L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Winnie Holtzman, and Stephen Schwartz for giving Wicked the life I'm now leeching off of. Also for Tori, who made Destin.
Warning: Spoilers for the end of the play, also, it's an amalgamation of the book and play.
Genre: Romance, adventure
Summary: The Vinkus is being used as a way for Quadlings to be taken to the Gillikin emerald mines. When a Quadling boy helps her daughter, Elphaba decides to stop the Gale Force from using Kumbricia's Pass as a way to smuggle people.
Author's Notes: Still not beta'd. If anyone would like to beta this, I'd be more than happy to let them, all you have to do is tell me or email me.
Part Three
Elphaba sat at the table, head in hands. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "So, you're telling me," she said slowly, deliberately, looking at the men sitting beside her. "That the Gale Force has stopped all caravans from entering or exiting the Vinkus from both Ugabu and Gillikin?"
"Yes," said the Yunamata man, nodding solemnly. "The only hope we have of getting those two back to their home is by having Her Goodness come and take them away."
Elphaba rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to sort it out. "So, you're telling me that we have to let her come here, to the castle, and let her in?"
"We don't have to let her in." said the Scrow man. Elphaba opened one hawk-like eye.
"I'm all ears." She said, deadpan.
The two men looked at each other. "Have her come, but take them to Red Windmill, and leave them with one of your servants, like Pfen or Mellesse, and then she won't need to know you're here."
Elphaba shook her head. "Not good; I need to discuss the illegal trade of Quadlings to the emerald mines, whether it means facing her or not."
"I'll go." Said the Scarecrow, moving to the small negotiating table. Six pairs of eyes fell on him.
"Fiyero, no..."
"No, Elphie, listen, she knows me only as the Scarecrow, nothing more or less; if it's Fabala's safety you're worried about, or your own, and you still want to talk about Aran, then let me go and talk to her." He shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Elphaba let out a small sigh. "Do you want an answer to that?" She asked. She stood, nodding and waving a hand dismissively. "Fine, send word to Glinda that her fiancé and his son are fine but have no way to return home. Then we'll go from there."
"If you want him, you can keep him." Destin said, petting the little black and white kitten. Fabala looked at him, before looking over at the cat. It made a small purring sound, before pushing its head against her hand.
"Really?" she said, nearly jumping on Destin. He laughed, nodding. "Where'd you find him?"
Destin shrugged. "I heard something in the Thousand Year Grasslands, and when I went to see what it was, he was all alone out there, and he was dehydrated. I've been taking care of him without Father knowing, and then I thought maybe you'd like something to play with and take care of; he's cute and all, but with me leaving as soon as possible, I thought he might like staying near his home."
Fabala's eyes lit up, and she picked the cat up, hugging it. She turned towards the door, looking at Aran. "What do you think?"
Aran shrugged; surprised that he was even being let into the conversation at all. "It's cute enough, but does it do anything?"
Destin turned, nodding. "Oh yes, it eats, sleeps, occasionally makes a mess if not properly trained, and petting it is a great stress reliever." Aran scowled, before walking over and sitting behind Fabala.
"If you want it, Fae, there may never be another time for you to get a kitten."
"But is it a cat or a Cat?" Fabala asked herself quietly. Destin shrugged, going into his elder ergo smarter routine.
"Well, I'd say it's a cat, just by the way it acts; however, even if it were a Cat, it's preverbal, and so it's anyone's guess, as you can't tell an animal from an Animal at such an early stage."
Aran rolled his eyes, before petting the cat lightly. He smiled as he did so; the fur was just too soft.
"I think I'll name him Yero, after my father." She said, nodding.
Destin smiled, although to Aran it looked more devious than it was. He did like the cat, though.
Fabala got up, starting away from the two boys.
"You know, she really deserves someone who treats her like a girl should be treated." Destin said conversationally, looking Aran up and down.
The Quadling bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any unnecessary comments. "So being treated like a girl means getting her presents and placing her on an unwanted pedestal?" He hissed out.
Destin quirked an eyebrow, before shrugging. "That pedestal didn't look too unwanted to me." He commented dryly, following Fabala out the door.
Aran hissed, looking down at his hands. He had balled his hands into fists hard, and had drawn his own blood.The long shoots of dead pieces of grass cracked as Aran pushed them roughly aside. "Look at me; I'm Destin, the next in the line of pompous Gillikin lords. I just happened to have found a cat, but I'm not sure if it's a Cat or a cat, since it's preverbal. I'm so smart because I'm so much older and no one care that I'm Lurline-damned annoying because they all grovel at my feet!"
"I wasn't groveling at his feet; it was a nice gesture, and he's cute." Fabala said angrily, following Aran.
Aran whirled around quickly, glaring at Fabala. "He's cute?!" he yelled.
Fabala's lips pursed together and her hands went to her hips. "I meant the cat, Aran." She said in a monotone.
Aran turned his back on her, making his way to the lone tree in the center of the Thousand Year Grasslands. "Of course you did." He said, though the sarcasm was dripping from his voice.
Fabala huffed, before following after him. She sat down rather hard in the dirt under the tree, not caring if her sage skirt was getting ruined. She wrapped one arm around her knees, and with the other, she started outlining the diamonds on her arms.
"I don't understand why you hate Destin so much." She said quietly.
Aran leaned against the hard bark of the tree, touching the long scar on his face. "He's Gillikinese, isn't that enough reason?"
Fabala didn't make eye contact with him, just played with the patterns on her arm. "Just because he's Gillikinese doesn't make him a monster, you know." She said, before something occurred to her. She blushed. "Um, last year, when we played that stupid game, why didn't you stop me from making fun of Lurline if you're a Lurlinist?"
Aran shrugged. "Everyone's entitled to their own opinions." He said.
Fabala scowled. "You're just saying that because it justifies your prejudice against Destin." Aran just looked off in the distance towards the Scrow encampment. "You know, there's no way of telling those Gale Forcers were Gillikinese; for all we know, they could have been Quadlings too. And if they were, would you hate yourself because of it?"
Aran sighed. "You don't understand..."
Fabala held up a hand, looking away from Aran. "I understand perfectly well; you're hurt and upset because they took away your past and your home. But think about me, Aran, I'm now lame in one leg and my brother's dead."
"I know, Fae, but..."
"No, don't call me that!" Fabala jumped up, tears in her eyes. She winced as they started to fall, but she didn't move to wipe them away. Aran reached out, but she pulled away, nearly tripping on a root. "Really, Aran, you're acting like a protective brother; I don't need to be protected, I can take care of myself."
Aran gulped around the lump forming in his throat. "Is...is that all I am to you? An annoying brother?"
Fabala licked her lips, before biting her upper one. "Yes, Aran, at the moment, that's exactly what you are and I wish you'd leave me alone." She finally wiped the tears away, but they had already left angry streaks on her face. "Please." She whispered, before turning and starting back toward Kiamo Ko.
Aran sagged next to the tree, wrapping his arms around himself. For the past year, he had hoped in vain that Fabala could think of him as more than a friend. In the past year, they had become close, but now Fabala was moving towards Destin, and it made Aran feel cold inside and out.The multicolored bubble arrived earlier than anyone had expected, and all of Kiamo Ko and Red Windmill could hear Elphaba's curses as she tried to make her presence in the castle unknown.
"Really," said Mellesse as she made some tea, "I don't know why that woman tries to hide herself, she can't stay locked in that room forever." Aran nodded numbly. Even if Destin and Lord Bromley were leaving that day, Fabala still wasn't talking to him, and to make matters worse, the Scarecrow had started in on him about Arjiki traditions and what Fabala was missing because she had already received her tattoos. Aran really didn't understand how the Scarecrow knew all of the idiosyncrasies of the Winkie clans.
Mellesse sighed, looking over at Aran. "What's wrong with you, Master Aran?"
"Nothing." Said Aran half-heartedly. He had had this conversation with both Mellesse and Pfen before. He had been haunting the kitchen since his fight with Fabala, and he wasn't ready to leave just yet.
Mellesse sighed, before handing the tea tray to Aran. He blinked at it, surprised, before Mellesse shooed him out of the kitchen. "If you're not going to make yourself useful in here, Aran, then please go take this to Miss Glinda in the drawing room."
Aran nodded, picking up the tray delicately and walked into the drawing room.
"Oh, are you a servant? You don't look like a Winkie." said a pretty voice behind him. He turned as he entered, and the blonde woman gasped lightly at the long scar adorning his face.
"I'm not a servant, and I'm not a Winkie," Aran said, putting the tray down on a low table in front of the woman. When Lord Bromley glared at him, her cleared his throat. "Miss." He added, with a low bow.
Glinda shook her head, still staring at the scar. "Oh, but how'd you get that, Master Quadling?"
Aran blushed, looking away. "It's nothing. Don't worry, Miss Glinda." He said.
She frowned, shaking her head. "No, it's something all right. And why should a Quadling be in the Vinkus?"
"His name is Aran, of the Naeva clan." Lord Bromley said, his distaste for Aran evident in his voice.
At once, the confusion and questioning in Glinda's eyes fell away, leaving an emotion Aran knew only too well; grief, total and sincere, especially when it came from Her Goodness. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Aran." She said quietly. Aran looked at her quizzically. "I remember hearing stories about the Gale Force taking a boy in Ovvels and killing his family, but I never thought...I never knew, but if I had, I would have done something." She got up then, and started towards the door between the hall and the small room they were in. "I'd like to see the lady of the house."
Aran backed away, into the door. He was a good head taller than Glinda, although he felt rather small as he leaned against the door, blocking her escape. "Um, no, I'm sorry, but the lady of the house isn't here right now."
Glinda frowned, before sitting down again. "Fine, then. I'm not leaving until I can talk with the lady of the house about the Gale Force's cruelties and how they came upon you and what I can do to help."
"But Glinda, dear..." Lord Bromley started, leaning in next to Glinda and putting a hand on her shoulder.
Glinda pulled away from his grasp, frowning. "No. I am not leaving until I know what I can do to change this terrible crime."
Lord Bromley sighed in defeat, looking down at the floor. "Glinda, I think your request is in vain."
The small woman merely held her dignified look, and he shook his head. "I've...met her. You don't want to meet her, Glinda, please, let's just go home. You have to get back to Nissa."
Glinda shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing. "I am not leaving, Bromley, until I know!" She said determinedly.
Aran slipped out the door and let out a long, barely audible sigh as he closed his eyes. He was hoping Bromley and his son were leaving; he wished it had been true. Now Glinda, for all her Goodness, was making his life worse-off than it had been during his time with the Gale Force.