Title: Entertaining Destiny

Author: Aerohead

Email: capricornangel at yahoo

Website: In my profile!

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. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed; if you have any ideas for the story-line that you think I should incoporate, the time to review and tell me is now, as there are really only two more parts to this story (unless I do the Shiz story, which is when my RPG takes place.)

Part Four

"C'mon, Fabia, get up!" Yero was picked up. The now rather large cat made a small sound of discontent, before he was put down next to Fabala's head. He purred, before licking the girl's cheek.

"MMphr. Mo-om!" groaned Fabala, rolling over. Elphaba sighed, before opening the curtains on the East Window.

"Up, now! It's your fourteenth birthday, and I'm not letting you sleep through the whole of it, even if I may not leave this room with Glinda still here." She made a face that Fabala caught as she opened her eyes.

"If you don't want her here, you could just have Mellesse say she's the woman of the house and then have her tell Glinda everything you want to tell her." The girl sat up, picking up her cat and putting it into her lap. Yero purred, curling up into a ball the size of Fabala's lap.

Elphaba shook her head, sitting down on Fabala's bed and stroking the cat. "Although Mellesse is a very good cook and a wonderful person, she says everything verbatim. She'll sound exactly like me!"

Fabala laughed. "You've never saw that as a bad thing before."

The girl got up and started down the stairs, aware of the growl of Yero as he was unceremoniously dumped off her lap. "Sorry, Yero." She called over her shoulder. The cat was already hopping off the bed to follow her and Elphaba watched.

"Fourteen already..." She said to herself wistfully. "Has it really been fourteen years since Nessa's death?" She shook her head, before following Fabala out of the room. Instead of going down to the breakfast table, however, she went to her room.

The breakfast table was a quiet place. With Lord Bromley and Destin still stuck in Red Windmill – along with a still very forceful good witch – the main servants had taken to eating by themselves in a small room off to the side, while Elphaba had taken to not coming out of her own room for more than five minutes if she knew Glinda was still in the vicinity. Fabala sighed as she took a seat across from the Scarecrow, where Elphaba usually sat, brushing a strand of loose thread from her skirt idly.

"Well, happy birthday to you, Miss Fabala!" Destin said, smiling at her. She smiled back, though she could feel how fake it was.

"Thank you, Destin." She said quietly.

Lord Bromley held up his water goblet, clearing his throat authoritatively. "Yes, yes, this is a day to celebrate, isn't it? Not only is it Fabala's fourteenth birthday, but it's also the day my son gets his acceptance to Shiz!" Fabala looked up, and Destin blushed slightly.

"Well that's very...good, isn't it?" Glinda said, tipping her glass in the direction of the teenagers.

"How very luck-filled." Said the Scarecrow, sending a surreptitious grimace Fabala's way. She dipped her head, hiding her smile, as she raised a glass of juice.

"Congratulations, Destin." She said quietly. He smiled meekly at her, before snapping.

Lord Bromley glared at his son for his improper mannerisms at the table, but Destin ignored it; instead taking something out of his pants' pocket. "This is for you, for your birthday." Destin said. Fabala took the silk-wrapped present, sending Destin a curious look, before she opened it. Inside the fabric was a silver and jade bracelet. "Do you like it?" He asked, worriedly. "It was my mother's and I thought you'd look pretty with it; the jade offsets the diamonds, don't you think?"

Fabala put the bracelet on, admiring it. It was true; the tattoos on her arms didn't stand out as much when they were next to the jade baubles. "It's really pretty; Destin, but I don't deserve this."

"Nonsense, you're the daughter of the two people who own this castle, Faeba, you deserve everything a princess deserves." The Scarecrow frowned at her, leaning on his straw arms.

Fabala laughed. "You sound just like my father, you know that?" She teased. He shrugged, a small mirth filled smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

Glinda looked rather lost in her own thoughts, and Lord Bromley looked over at her. "Glinda, are you all right?" He asked, putting a hand over hers. She turned to him, smiling.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking that's all..." she looked quizzically over towards The Scarecrow, who was having a rather terrible coughing fit. "It was Nissa's birthday a few days ago, and I didn't send her anything. I wasn't thinking about the days." Fabala's head jerked up at the mention of the name 'Nissa'.

"Who's Nissa?" she asked. Glinda looked over at her, smiling and waving a hand.

"Oh, she's just my daughter. She's a week or two older than you; she's a handful, but she's a sweetheart." Lord Bromley squeezed Glinda's hand, before removing his own.

"Our children truly are growing up, aren't they, Glinda dear?"

The Scarecrow pushed away from the table, smiling lightly at Glinda and Bromley. "Will you excuse me? I'm going to check on the Mistress of the house." He nodded before departing. Fabala glared after him; he was the adult and running away from the situation and now she was stuck with Bromley ranting about Destin for the rest of breakfast.

Glinda watched the Scarecrow go, a bemused expression on her face. "He's always been odd, hasn't he?" She asked.

"Uh, yes?" said Fabala.

Glinda turned to the girl, her expression soft. "Now dear, please, can you tell me what's wrong with your mother?" Fabala looked down at her plate, a conjured look of childish upset written on her face. Destin and Bromley knew she was acting, and badly, but it seemed to pass right over Glinda's head.

"Well, she has a chronic illness, miss, which comes and goes. They think it's because she saw what happened here before I was born and she's never been healthy since." She let out a small, wistful sigh for effect, before looking over at Glinda, wiping away faux tears from her eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air." She said.

Glinda smiled genuinely at her. "Oh, yes, of course dear." She nodded and Fabala hugged her stiffly, before starting out the servant's entrance. "And happy birthday, dear!" she called.

Glinda turned to Bromley as Fabala left, an eyebrow raised. "Have you met the Mistress of the house, Bromley?"

Bromley cleared his throat. "Eh, met her? How do you mean? She used to take dinner with us, but not often, and when she did, she came with the servants, so I don't know exactly who the Mistress of the house is..."

Glinda got up, shaking her head. "You're a terrible liar." She said simply. Lord Bromley turned beet red, before sighing.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Glinda."

"The girl's name is Fabala; unless there's a lone unionist out here, I think I know who's daughter that is. I'm not stupid, even if I am blonde." She moved away from the table and started to the guest room she and Bromley were sharing. Bromley winced when he heard the door slam behind her.

"Remember this, Destin; an angry witch, whether she is good or wicked, is still someone you should watch out for."

Fabala looked around her, enchanted by the place where she stood. For the first time since she was about seven, she had walked down to the Vinkus River. In the June sun, it was sparkling like a sapphire, and she was enchanted by it. When she was five, she had fallen into the water, and it hurt more than anything, but it was still amazing to look at; it had become a nice place for her to just go to and think. But the last time she had gone was with The Scarecrow and Thane, and up until now, she couldn't go for fear of thoughts of her brother.

She looked at the crystalline depths, at her reflection. She looked like she had when she was a child; hair braided, blue eyes large and so out of place on a Winkie, and skin darker than most Winkies she had ever seen. The fat that came with being a child was gone, though, and her face was more angled, much like her mother's – pointy and slightly hawk-like. She wasn't sure what her father looked like, but she knew from The Scarecrow that he had her blue eyes, and now with her more mature figure they made her look slightly exotic, though not beautiful. She sighed; she didn't think beauty was important, but she wanted some justification for the gift Destin had given her, and so far she wasn't receiving any enlightened ideas from her reflection.

"What's so interesting down there that you just have to look at? Did someone loose some precious jewel and you want it, but can't touch it?" Fabala's head jerked up, and she blushed as the person who had spoken sat down beside her. "Sometimes, you know, I feel like you're that precious jewel; beautiful, but I'm allergic to your casing and can't get to you. Happy birthday, by the way."

"You're such a romantic." Fabala laughed, happy to be having a normal conversation like this for the first time since last year.

Aran shrugged, knotting the line on his fishing pole. "Hey, I try." He turned to her, brown eyes cautiously void of emotion. "So, how's everything up in the large, foreboding castle?"

She leaned back. "I couldn't be happier." She said, sarcastically. "And I think Glinda's on to Mother; how could she not? Anyone with a brain larger than a catfish would figure it out!"

Aran looked at her, and she could see the comment he wanted to make, but he turned away, shaking his head instead. "So, how was breakfast?" He asked instead, casting the line out into the river.

"Don't tell Mellesse, but I didn't eat any; they just kept talking and talking and it was making my head hurt." She rubbed her temples to prove her point. Aran chuckled lightly, but he was concentrating on his fishing line mostly. Once he was sure nothing was going to take his bait for a little while anyway, he got up.

"Come with me." He said. Fabala looked up at him, confused. He put out one calloused hand and she took it gently. He smiled and helped her up, before pulling her along. Since they hadn't been on very good speaking terms for the past year, she hadn't noticed that he had grown; where he used to be shorter than her, he was now about an inch or two taller. She cocked her head as she looked at the back of his; the skin she could see was permanently sun burnt and covered by wisps of nearly brown hair.

In her musings, she nearly hit her face with a large dead branch along the river; they were nearly in Yunamata territory by this point, and she was getting nervous. Aran turned to her, smiling at her. She looked at the still visible scar across his jaw, and laughed. She didn't know how she could stay mad at him for so long, since he really was like her brother.

He pulled her into a small cave and lit a candle. Her breath hitched as she looked around. "This' amazing!" said Fabala quietly, listening to her voice echo. It looked like a small room, decked on from head to toe in Lurlinemas colors on the wall. "What is this place?"

Aran pointed to the old Ozian writing on the wall. "I couldn't figure out all of it but I borrowed some of your mother's books," at Fabala's glare Aran put a hand up, "with her permission, and I've found out that this is actually a place where people in the Vinkus came to worship Lurline when the Unionists came to try and convert them."

Fabala sat on her knees, putting her hands on the cave floor. It was cold, but dry. Her brows knit in confusion. "Why isn't it wet?" She asked.

Aran's smile grew. "The stones in the cave keep moisture out; I don't know, it may be Kumbric magick or the magic your mother works, or it could even be some freak accident of nature that Lurline granted us with and the Unnamed One has usurped from her. But, Faeba, look at this! It never gets wet in here; it's as dry as a bone even during torrential downpours! There's an opening to get here big enough for you and me to stand in near Red Windmill; near the end of the Great Kells." He turned to her, moving closer to her in his excitement. "And the best part is that it's spelled, so no one but you or I or whoever we want can come in here!"

Fabala smiled at his enthusiasm, leaning closer. She touched his hand to make him look directly at her. "Aran, please," she said, her tone mock-indignant. "How many times have I told you, call me Fae?"

He blinked at her. "You...you've never told me to call you that; actually I remember you getting pretty upset the last time I did."

Fabala closed her eyes, laughing. "Well then, now I'm telling you. Fae." She smiled at him and the leaned in closer, but suddenly Fabala jumped up. "Sweet Oz, we've got to get back!"

Aran made a face. "Why?"

"Because Destin's leaving today!" she said, starting out of the cave and toward Kiamo Ko.

Aran's brown eyes brightened. "Leaving? Really! Oh, thank you, Lurline, my prayers are answered!" He laughed, following her.

Glinda did not see her future step-son off to Shiz; however she did wish she could have. Instead, she was standing in front of a large oak door, listening to the ensuing fight on the other side.

"NO!" was the only distinct word she heard, and she winced. She should have realized that her presence would not be welcomed here, but something in the back of her mind itched; she had to know if Elphaba really was alive, or if somehow her imagination and hope had created this delusion of Elphaba really being alive. "Fiyero, I am not going to see her!"
Glinda's heart stopped. Fiyero? She hadn't heard that name in nearly fourteen years. She had truly become close to Lord Bromley when she had heard Fiyero and Elphaba were dead; Lord Bromley's wife Damisi had passed away almost two years previous and helped her adjust.

She had to grab hold of a nearby candle holder on the wall to steady herself at the shock that the two people who mattered most in her life really weren't dead. It was her favorite dream coming true, or her worst nightmare becoming reality.

The door behind her opened and she jumped, grabbing the candle in her hurry to look regal. The Scarecrow jumped back into the room, away from the fire. "Oh! I'm sorry!" Glinda said, putting the candle back and holding up her hands, backing away from The Scarecrow. "I didn't mean to frighten you or eavesdrop it's just...Oh, but what have you got to say that's more important than my ramblings?" She asked.

The Scarecrow looked down, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Glinda, but her exact words were that she won't come out until you leave; she doesn't want to endanger you."

Glinda harrumphed, wrapping her arms around her chest. "Well, then we're at an impasse, as I am not leaving until I see her to talk about what happened to that poor Quadling boy she's harboring." She tried to peek into the room, but The Scarecrow stopped her. She pursed her lips and called into the room, "Did you hear me, Elphie? I know you're there and I'm not leaving here until you come out, no matter how long it takes!" She thought of something and smirked to herself. "And Bromley's not leaving either until you come out! So it seems you're stuck between a rock and a hard-place, but I'll let you think about it!" She straightened and walked purposefully down to the kitchen, ready for dinner.