Sorry I'm so late. Here's a nice long chapter to make up for it.
Disclaimer: I asked Elphaba if I could own her. Currently, I am cowering from the slew of monkeys she sent after me. So I guess that means I don't.
> > > > >
22 June, 3040 Ozian date.
Minik ot Bellun
Dear Glinda,
I'm sorry I haven't written you in so long. Merry is now nine months old, and she gets into everything. And I mean everything. Yesterday, she found one of Yackle's hairpieces (Can you believe it? Yackle wears a wig! And it's not even a very good one, either; you can still see her ugly bald head.) and has been using it as a chewtoy. Of course, when I realized what it was, I confiscated it promptly. I mean, who knows what sort of things could be living in that. Yackle isn't exactly the very picture of cleanliness.
And Yackle the Ever-Present is still hanging around, because, after all, aren't I just the embodiment of deplorable motherhood? And what would I do without old Mother Yackle there, guiding my every footstep that leads to the path of righteousness of raising a well-disciplined, god-fearing child?
When she said this I laughed so hard, Fiyero thought that I was having a nervous breakdown. Let's think… what would I do without Yackle? Well, maybe I'd get rid of the persistant headache that always occurs when she opens her mouth to speak. And besides, I don't intend to force any religion on Merry. If she chooses to be a god-fearing prude like her Aunt Nessa was, then, by all means, she is free to do so, as long as I don't have to hear or witness her piety.
And most importantly, I am not the embodiment of deplorable motherhood. That honor belongs to Melena, Princess of Overactive Imagination, Goddess of Immoral Deeds, Queen of Angry Tirades, High Priestess of All Ailments And Syndromes Allowing Her To Ignore Her Own Children.
Of course, Yackle retorted to these comments. Fortunately, it was kept short. A mere, "I have nothing more to say to you."
Thank Oz for that.
Although this may seem trivial to you, it was quite a nasty shock to Yero and I. When we bathed Merry the first time, she developed a series of blisters and angry scarlet rashes. Unfortunately, we've concluded that Merry inherited my unusual allergy, and we sent Yackle out for more oil.
At least she's not green.
Well, dear, I've been babbling about inconsequential things, and that's not the reason I wrote to you. The real reason that I've been itching to put pen to paper arrived three weeks ago, just after my fortieth (!) birthday.
It was late, after midnight. We'd been having trouble getting Merry to sleep, and she had finally nodded off on Fiyero's lap. We were just having a cup of tea before heading off to bed when we heard a knock on the door. I thought it was Yackle, ready with some fresh new way to torment me, and I went to answer the door, thinking, What in the hell could she want?
It wasn't Yackle.
It was my son, Liir.
At first we stared in shock at one another. I dimly calculated in my head his age and came to about sixteen. He was still as pale as ever. (I wonder if I would have been that light had I been normal-skinned; Nessarose was always a bit peaky.) His hair was an infuriating shade between blonde and brown- undecided and wishy-washy, like him. He had grown a good deal in the past two years; he towered over me by a good four inches. He had his father's height. All of his childhood puppy fat had been shedded. He was stocky, but not in an unattractive way.
As I watched, Fiyero spoke, and I realized that I had blocked Liir entirely from view. "Elphaba," he asked, "who's there? Are you alright?"
"Hush," I murmured to my- what do I call him? Lover? Husband?- turning my head ever so slightly to answer, but still hiding our son from view. Then to Liir I said, "What are you doing here?"
Ever the linguist, he replied intelligently, "Umm… I…" while gripping his small traveling bag with one hand and playing with the string of his cloak with the other.
Refusing to let him pass without an acknowledgement of my question, I waited until he countered awkwardly with, "May I come in?" before I pushed aside the door and let him in.
Yero had set Merry down on our bed and stood upon seeing Liir, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Stop, Fiyero," I ordered, and I saw Liir's eyes go round at the name he only ever heard at Kiamo Ko twice- once from Nor in reference to her father; the other time from the magical Carp in the fishwell.
I had a great deal of explaining to do.
"Sit down," I told Fiyero. "You also," I turned to Liir. They both obeyed.
Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. I didn't know how to go about it. I wasn't ready to reveal my past. Finally, Liir asked me in a voice that sounded polite, but only had me half-convinced, "Who is this man, Mother?" I winced at both Liir's emphasis on the word and Fiyero's expression turning from slight puzzlement to downright confusion.
I turned to Fiyero and started from the beginning.
"This is my son," I informed him. "When you were captured, Yero, I went into a coma for a year and a half. During that time I gave birth to Liir. When I left the mauntery for Kiamo Ko, I took Liir with me. He disappeared a bit after Dorothy arrived." I saw Liir flush out of the corner of my eye. I took a deep breath and turned to Liir.
"Liir, meet your father."
His eyes seemed to jump out of their sockets, and if it weren't for the solemnity of the situation I may have laughed, for he looked like a startled fawn. Fiyero looked no more serene than his son.
Liir spoke first. "How…" he gasped. "You are the father of Irji? Nor? Not me as… How?" He finished stupidly.
Fiyero swallowed. "I was the father of Irji, Manek, and Nor. No longer. I was informed of the sad circumstances surrounding my children's disappearances." I cringed; that had been one of my more unpleasant stories to share.
Fiyero's gaze alighted on me. "This is true, Elphaba?" I knew he was secretly pleased that our affair had resulted in a son, and my confirmation would complete his happiness. I nodded. "Liir," he said, "Elphaba and I had an affair seventeen years ago. Her story makes sense." He glanced at me fleetingly. "I fathered you."
Liir sat for a moment, contemplating this all with a dazed expression on his face. Then, he stood, and walked over to Yero. He held out his hand tentatively, and Fiyero shook it solidly, a large goofy grin on his face. They embraced and then Liir came over to me, and hugged me awkwardly.
I shattered the silence that followed after we broke apart by asking a question. "Why are you here, Liir?"
He blushed. "I didn't think you were still alive. I would never have dreamed of looking for you, but I was passing though the Lesser Kells. Since you mel- I mean, since Dorothy came, I've been in Shiz, working as an assistant in one of the banks. I had been sent on an expedition to meet with some of the local tribes when I ran into some old biddy called… oh, I can't remember."
"Yackle," I muttered darkly.
"Yeah, that's it." He looked at me strangely. "She directed me to your cave and told me I would find something of interest there."
"So are you staying?" I asked dryly.
He looked uncomfortable. Yero chimed, "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Our home is always open to you."
I felt a little tug of maternal instinct pull at my so- my heart. This had been happening more often than usual since Merry was born. "You're at least staying the night, Liir," I said firmly.
"Yes," said Fiyero happily. "I'll make you up a bed." Then he disappeared behind one of the curtains we had used to divide the cave into "rooms." He left Liir and I alone, staring fixedly at anything but the other.
Liir's gaze feel on the sleeping Merry on our bed. "Who?" he breathed sharply.
I took a breath. "Liir, this is your sister. She was born in September. Her name is Merylene."
"My sister?" he asked wonderingly. He moved closer. "May I?" He asked me, looking fearful.
With mixed emotions, I nodded. Liir placed a thick finger on Merry's cheek, but surprisingly, she stayed asleep. I breathed a sigh of relief and Liir glanced at me. "She's really my sister?"
I nodded. "Your honest-to-goodness, full sister of the flesh."
"Wow," he said.
Fiyero popped his head out from behind the curtain. "Come on, Liir. Let's get you settled."
"Goodnight," I said quietly. He nodded and disappeared behind the curtain. Behind it I could hear them talking softly.
"How long will you stay?" Fiyero's voice prompted.
"I dunno," said Liir vaguely. "A few days. The expedition, you know."
He's been here ever since.
As always, Elphaba
> > > > >
You know what to do. Press the pretty review button!