Title: Entertaining Destiny
Author: Aerohead
Email: in my profile
Website: In my profile
Pairing: Fiyero/Elphaba, Fiyero/Glinda, Glinda/OC, OC/OC
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer/Dedication: For L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman who own this idea that I'm extending. Thank you for giving me the first part. Also, Destin belongs to Tori. Also, F-kun owns the Melarose family.
Genre: Romance, adventure (book/play amalgamation)
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. Anyway, also, sorry this wasn't posted sooner; I went back to NYC this week to see Wicked again, along with The Frogs. Also, I know some people have been having trouble figuring out what months these chapters take place in, so here's a quick list (note that the story takes place almost always during late spring/early summer): Part One: mid-May, Part Two: early Man, Part Three: August, Part Four: Early June, Part Five: early July. Also, someone emailed me (I forget who now. ') about the age difference between Fabala, Aran, and Destin. Destin is two years older than Aran and Fabala, and Aran is two months older than Fabala. Finally, this is the second-to-last part of this story, but if you want me to continue with a sequel based on the RPG it is about, please leave me a comment telling me so, otherwise I won't.
Part Five
It was mostly quiet now that Destin was gone. Although Shiz was out for the summer, the boy had gone to Neverdale to visit his step-sister-to-be. Lord Bromley and Glinda the Good were still being housed in Kiamo Ko, and Elphaba had still yet to see her best friend. Of course, there were pleasantries – every morning between breakfast and lunch, Glinda would go to Elphaba's room and demand entrance, while Elphaba resolutely refused. Glinda had even gone so far as to sending for items at the Palace in the Emerald City that used to belong to the other woman.
Fabala and Aran had found that hiding from the tension at the house was by far easier said than done. Escaping to the cave was proving to be harder for Fabala than it was for Aran, so he usually went while she was stuck listening quietly while her parents raged all-out, no-place-is-sacred war with each other about the blonde woman who had by now all but taken up residence in the Vinkus.
Fabala, now a month after her fifteenth birthday, was sitting in her room. Her right leg was pulled into her, but her left leg had become stubborn in the sticky weather and had decided not to bend, so it was splayed out on the mattress in front of her. In her lap she held a large tome. It had been given to Elphaba by Glinda, and instead of keeping it, Elphaba had stiffly asked Fabala if she wanted it. The ancient lettering on the leather cover was nearly rubbed off by age and use, but she could faintly make out the "Gr" and the "ie", at the beginning and end of the word respectively.
Although the writing in the book was strange and sometimes impossible to understand, some of it was easy to decipher. Her mother had promised to teach her the harder words, but Fabala was resilient and wanted to learn some of it by herself.
Of course, at the moment reading the stupid thing was giving her a migraine that was about the same size as it, so with an annoyed sigh she slammed the book shut and eased herself off the bed. It was hard, it really was, to move when her leg was giving her so much trouble, but she had become accustomed to it. She only winced lightly as it buckled underneath her weight as she experimented with it. Satisfied that it was holding, she started down the stairs and into the kitchen.
It was abnormally quiet in the large cooking area. Mellesse and the cooking staff had gone into town to buy necessities for that night's dinner, and Aran, the only other normal occupant for the room, had left early that morning to go to the Scrow and haggle for some of the herbs they had.
With a sigh, Fabala took the kitchen in fully; making sure Bromley, The Scarecrow, Glinda, or – worse – her mother was in there. She smiled to herself and pulled a chair toward the small island between dining area and preparing area. She sat down and put her left leg onto the wall of the island. She twisted it, careful only to move the upper portion of her leg, using her right leg as support as she held it fast on the floor. With a loud pop, her knee decided to finally work. She stood, smiling to herself as the pain lessened; Pfen would have killed her twenty times over, but it was the only relief from the pain she could get in this weather.
Leaving the chair out, she started into the cooking space. She looked around the immaculate area, impressed, as she went toward the back of the room. She was looking for something to eat, an apple perhaps, and as she looked around, she trailed her hand on the counter.
She stopped as she let her hand rove. It had moved onto something colder than the stone surface; something cold and wet. She kept her hand in the water for far too long, and suddenly the coldness of the water mixed with the pain on her skin, and she let out a small, hopeless cry. She pulled her hand away from the countertop, and looked at her wet palm. She looked around frantically, but there was nothing for her to wipe it off with.
"Fabala!" someone called near the back of the house; she was only faintly aware of it. Her vision swam and her mind raced as she looked at her hand, watching the dark flesh go red. Wiping it on her shirt or skirt would only prove to be harmful to her legs or arms, as the cotton was too thin to keep the moisture out. She started thinking to the ground, panicking, and ignored the quick succession of snapping noises her knee made as she did.
She closed her eyes, trying to get her vision back. She could hear footsteps – urgent and sure – coming closer to her, but she couldn't make out the voices, or what they were saying.
"Faeba, come on, look at me, focus!" She opened one eye, and then another. Two pairs of equally worried eyes stared back at her.
"What's wrong?" asked one of the people next her, moving out of Fabala's vision.
"It's the water." Came the curt reply, as the face closest to her moved its focus to other. Soon the focus was back on Fabala, and nearly black eyes, tinged with uncharacteristic worry, looked at Fabala. "Give me your hand."
Tentatively, the fifteen-year-old did as she was told, making another noise of pain in the back of her throat as the hand was taken between pieces of dark cloth on either side. The moisture was rubbed off, and the pain ebbed slightly. "You should get up." The person in front of her stated.
"I'll get the chair!" came the swift, if not choked, reply of the other person occupying the space with Fabala. Distantly, she heard the scrape of oak on cobblestone, signaling that the chair was being brought into the cooking area.
Arms moved around Fabala, and she vaguely registered that the dark cloth that had wiped off the water from her hand was part of an article of clothing. A strong body started to lift Fabala up, but the moment her legs started to straighten, she let out a yelp.
"Are you okay?" Almost instantly, the second person was next to her, blue eyes shining with worry at the state of the young girl.
"My leg..." Fabala barely managed out, putting all of her weight on the body holding her up. She felt the head that belonged to the body nod in understanding, and then she felt the attention drift away from her.
"Can you help me get her to the chair?" Fabala pulled closer to the familiar body at the question, but an off-colored hand swam into her vision and out, touching the side of her face lightly to soothe.
"You want...? Of course, of course I will!" There was surprise in the voice, and a nervous touch on Fabala's shoulder. She shied away from the touch, looking up into the face above her, one that was doing it's best to stay out of focus.
The face looked down at her, however, and a small wan smile was the only thing Fabala could make out. "Let Glinda help you, I can't get you there by yourself when you can't hold your own weight." The Good Witch touched the girl's arm again, and this time she sunk into the touch. The small woman wrapped one arm around her shoulder and looked beyond the hurt girl to the tall woman on the other side.
The two women gently put Fabala down, and the girl paled lightly, realizing that her knee wouldn't go back. She turned slowly, seeing the wall.
"Could you, um, put me near the wall?" She asked meekly, blushing.
A small consoling smile passed across Glinda's features as she looked beyond the youth to Elphaba. The green woman nodded once, and it was all the incentive the other woman needed. She bent down so that she was in the girl's line of vision, and smiled.
"Of course, dear." She said, before helping the girl up again. Fabala struggled toward her mother, and collapsed into the strong woman's open arms. The arms closed around her tightly in a protectiveness that would have surprised anyone who believed in the propaganda about the Witch of the West, and Fabala relaxed slightly, although the pain shooting up from her knee was nearly blinding.
Glinda picked up the heavy chair as best she could and sent a quizzical look toward the dark girl. "Put it where you found it before." She said. "Please?" She added, catching the quick glance from her mother.
With a nod and a smile, the chair was brought back to where it had been placed before Fabala had decided to traipse around the kitchen. Once it was placed, Glinda came back over to Fabala's side. She put a hand out, and the teen gratefully leaned onto the blonde woman for support. They brought her to the chair and she sat down in it heavily. She took a deep, fortifying breath, before putting her left leg back onto the island wall and twisted her leg. The noise her knee made echoed through the deadly quiet room as Glinda and Elphaba stared at each other. Fabala passed out from the mixed pain in her hand and leg.
The Scrow encampment was a good hike from Kiamo Ko. Aran had gone there many times; but today it was unusually quiet.
"What's going on?" He asked, looking at the herb seller. She smiled weakly at him, before looking down.
"A young boy drowned in the River this afternoon." Aran looked at the upset woman, and nodded. "That's the boy's brother over there; I feel so bad for that family." She sniffed.
Aran nodded, understanding the woman as his mind drifted to his arrival in the Vinkus, and the dead, surprised look on Thane's face after he was shot and killed. He also remembered quite vividly Fabala crying on her mother's shoulder one night with The Scarecrow watching when Aran shouldn't have been watching. "I'm truly sorry for their loss." He said sincerely.
The woman nodded, handing him a small bag of herbs. She turned from the sadness and sent Aran a lecherous smile. "So, what's a handsome young man doing collecting herbs like these?"
Aran blushed, looking at the brown paper bag between them. "How do you mean, ma'am?"
She clucked. "Caraway, dragon's blood, lily of the valley, holly, pomegranate, sage, and walnut, child, these are supposed to have properties good for women." She said with a wink.
Aran turned another shade of red. "They're for a friend of mine."
"A female friend?" the woman asked, her smile widening when she saw him nod. "And does this friend know you're buying these herbs for her?"
Aran shook his head. "But it's a surprise for her; she's been working hard lately, and I think she deserves something for herself." He said. She blinked at him, before smiling.
"That Arjiki princess, am I right? The last of the Tigalaar line, the daughter of You-Know-Who herself!" Aran coughed to hide his discomfort as he nodded again. She tutted. "You take heed of my words boy; she's as stubborn as her mother is and she can become as arrogant as her father was."
"Was?" Aran said meekly.
"Well no one's seen him since before she was born, have they? I hear he was Captain of the Gale Force, and was killed for protecting the Wicked Witch Who Wasn't So Wicked."
"Um, yes...er, I need some more herbs; you didn't name them before..."
The woman looked at him. "What is it, poppet?"
"Um...thyme, cherry, lemon, violet, fennel, and sunflower, please." He said, gulping around the ball in his throat. She smiled kindly at him, nodding. Once he had the second bag and had paid for them, he started back down the roads toward Red Windmill. He chanced a glance at the boy whose brother had died; the boy sat next to a grieving woman and a man who stood to the side, almost as if he wasn't even there at all. The boy looked to be about Aran's own age, and he let out a small sigh. He couldn't remember his family, Fabala had lost her brother and apparently her father, and now another boy had lost someone he love. How many more people had to suffer before Oz and the Vinkus were finally allied?
Fabala groaned as she came to. She looked around the kitchen, but couldn't see anyone. She could hear voices, but they were in the sitting room across the antechamber, and she didn't feel particularly up to going over there and seeing who was there.
It still shocked her; Glinda and her mother had come to help her, together. And they had spoken nearly civilly. Fabala shook her head, and it proved to be a bad idea. "Aw hellfire!" she groaned, feeling her braid; it was a mess, but she wasn't in the mood to fix it.
"What help with that?" someone asked from behind her. There was a rustle of straw, and The Scarecrow moved into arms' length of the girl. He smiled warmly at her, and some of her disquiet eased as she pulled him into a hug. "Are you okay, Faeba?" he asked her, worried.
"Yes, thank you." She kissed his burlap face, not wanting to let go. She sometimes wished she had a normal family, but she loved The Scarecrow and Elphaba more because they had gone through so many hardships to have her. It was that thought that was with her as she pulled away from The Scarecrow. "If it wasn't for Mother and Glinda, I think I would have been badly hurt."
The Scarecrow nodded, before moving behind Fabala and redoing her braid for her. "You make a father proud to call you their daughter." He said quietly, hugging her from behind. He moved away, and Fabala turned to him in question. "I have to go make sure your mother doesn't kill Glinda."
Fabala nodded and watched him go, before she experimented with getting up. When it worked with little to no pain, she started walking around. Her leg was fine, so she checked her hand. It was fine, but she was wary of touching anything in the room. She started to leave the room, and trudged up the stairs to her room, where she had left the book her mother had given her.
"I'm glad I caught you!" Fabala turned to Glinda, who was running up the stairs – and tripping on her orange crème skirt – to catch the girl. "How's your hand?"
Fabala smiled. "It's fine, thank you." Glinda nodded.
"Could we, um...go to your room?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" Fabala smiled and brought Glinda up to her room. The Witch looked over the sparse room, before her eyes landed on the pretty bed. Fabala scrambled to the bed and picked up the book her mother had given her. She went to put it on her lap, but Yero jumped out of his cat-bed and demanded attention. Glinda sat down gingerly on the bed and picked the cat up, putting it in her lap.
"What a cute cat!"
"Thank you, Destin gave him to me, along with this..." She pulled out a small box of keepsakes, and picked up the bracelet she had gotten the year before.
"That's very pretty..." Glinda said, slightly nervous as to how to react to her best friend's daughter. She noticed, however, that there was a small piece of black cloth in the box, but didn't pester the girl; it looked to be a piece of the black hat that Glinda had given Elphaba. Then her eyes caught the book, and she laughed, making Yero jump in surprise and skid away.
"What's funny?" Fabala asked. Glinda shook her head.
"It's nothing, it's just...that book, I remember when your mother first took it. It seems fitting that you would take it." She touched Fabala's cheek gently. "I just wanted to talk to you about Shiz..."
Fabala looked over at Glinda, confused.
"I'm going to be sending my daughter there the same year you go, and there's something you should know, that you should both know...you're father and hers are the same."
Fabala nodded. "I know."
Glinda was flabbergasted. "How did you...?"
Fabala smiled. "My birthday, last year, when you started talking about your daughter, my fa...The Scarecrow, he started acting funny. And you said she was older than me by a week. According to the stories, Father and Mother were first truly together after you and Father broke off your engagement, a week afterwards."
Glinda smiled, pleasantly surprised. "You're truly your mother's child." She said.
"I try." Fabala laughed.
Glinda coughed, bringing back a slight seriousness to the situation. "I'd like you to take care of Nissa, I've tried my best, but it's hard raising a child and a country, too. She's rather..."
"Spoilt?" Fabala asked. Glinda nodded. Fabala smiled. "I'll try to take care of her, Your Goodness, but I'm not good with new people. According to Aran I'm crass and rather bratty. I admit I am normally – bratty, that is – but I'm just not good in new situations." She shrugged. "But I will try."
Glinda smiled. "Good, I'm glad." She got and started away, but turned, a thought turning in her head. "I'm leaving tonight; your mother and I have worked a few things out. I'll be back sometime next year with Nissa." Fabala opened her mouth, but Glinda put up a hand. "And of course, Bromley's leaving with me." Fabala nodded. "But I'd like you to have this, just don't tell your mother." She pulled something out of her voluminous skirts. She put a brown-wrapped thing in Fabala's hands and waved as she opened the East Window and stepped onto the very small ledge. She waved her wand and her bubble appeared. She smiled at Fabala as she started to drift away. "I promise, next year you'll meet Nissa. I'm warning you now!" She called waving. "And please don't let your mother know I gave that to you!" Fabala ran to the window and watched the bubble disappear. She closed the windows and latched them, and went back to the bed and the forgotten present. Shaking, she opened the brown wrap and picked up the object inside of it, letting the wrapping fall to the ground as she stood to admire the object in the light of the setting sun.
It was a little green bottle with the words "Miracle Elixir" on the side.