A/N: So, another OC here. I've decided that I'm just going to write a complete list of my OCs at the end, rather than announcing them when they appear, unless I need to clarify name pronunciation – this just makes life easier for me. Not going to lie, this chapter was difficult to write. More difficult than I was anticipating, even though it isn't graphic. I hope I've been able to do it justice though. Some important developments take place in this chapter.

Thanks once again to those who reviewed, followed and favourited.

A shiver racked through Elphaba's bones, and she went suddenly very cold. "What's that?" she breathed in fear. The eyes continued to stare at her, unwavering. Then, as if they had closed, the copse suddenly went dark.

"Was I imagining that, or..." Fiyero trailed off.

A slight movement caught Elphaba's eyes among the trees, and a faint rustling noise reached her ears. Cowper was still wriggling and struggling in her grasp, but she barely noticed him anymore.

So quiet she almost missed it, a silky voice spoke. "Is anyone there apart from you two?"

Elphaba and Fiyero exchanged a bewildered glance, then Elphaba spoke. "No. It's just us."

For a minute, nothing happened, and she began to wonder if the stranger had left. But then slowly, slowly, a creature emerged from the thicket, fixing its piercing emerald eyes on them in fear. It was a young Tigress, Elphaba realised with a start, and she was watching them intently, as if gauging their reactions, or waiting for something to happen. She stopped at the edge of the group of trees, and would come no further, but her eyes seemed to be begging something from them. Her fur was filthy and matted, and she looked terribly thin. What was the most alarming, however, was the angry wound stretching from her left ear down her side. Cautiously, Elphaba took a step towards her, and she was vaguely aware of Fiyero falling into step behind her. The Tigress didn't seem to startle at her movement, but she stayed rooted in the same spot.

"My name is Elphaba," she spoke softly, trying to put their visitor at ease. "This is Prince Fiyero Tiggular of the Vinkus," gesturing at the boy behind her.

"Just Fiyero will be fine," Fiyero grumbled, though he still sounded slightly shocked.

"Come with me," the Tigress spoke after a moment. She slunk back into the woods, until her eyes were the only thing they could see of her again.

Fiyero placed his hand on Elphaba's shoulder hesitantly. "Should we go with her?" There was still a tinge of fear in his voice. Evidently this was spooking him a little. Elphaba nodded at him reassuringly and indicated that he follow her. She wasn't sure if he would, but she heard his feet shuffling behind her as they made their way further into the trees. The copse wasn't large, but it was dark and thick enough that Colwen Grounds could no longer be seen once they had taken a few steps in, and the Tigress's eyes were the only thing acting as a light for them. The Tigress kept moving in until Elphaba judged that they were roughly in the centre of the copse. Then she stopped suddenly, and Elphaba and Fiyero almost crashed into her.

"Who are you?" Elphaba asked. "Are you in any danger?"

The Tigress looked at her oddly, seemingly considering how to answer. "Depends on how one looks at it," she answered finally.

"What's your name?" Fiyero repeated.

"My name is Khanija."

"And you need our help?" prompted Elphaba.

"Possibly." She was looking directly at Elphaba now. "Is it true that you saved a Lion cub once?"

Elphaba gaped at her, and she could almost feel the hole being burned into the side of her face from Fiyero doing the same thing. "I... yes. How did you know that?"

She heard the smile in Khanija's voice. "All the Lion ever talks about is the green-skinned human who saved his life. It took me a long time to track you down, but I eventually began to hear talk amongst the humans of a green girl, and I would listen in whenever I could until I learned where I could find you."

Elphaba was feeling overwhelmed. "So... the Lion cub is still alive? He's okay?"

Khanija grimaced. "Yes, he's alive. Perhaps not exactly 'okay,' but alive."

That alarmed Elphaba. "So is he in danger?" she asked at the same time as Fiyero demanded, "You saved a Lion cub?"

"Yes," Khanija answered Fiyero, now turning to the male human. "I can't tell you everything now," again addressing Elphaba. "But is it also true that you have magic?"

Elphaba said nothing, but here Fiyero interrupted. "Was that what you did back there? Magic?"

Elphaba huffed. "Can we focus on the matter at hand? Yes, that was my magic. I suppose that answers your question, Khanija. Yes, I have magic. But my control over it is limited."

Elphaba could just make out Khanija tilting her head, intrigued. "What can you do?"

"I'm not sure. I know that I can cause commotions of all descriptions if I don't keep my emotions under control. I know that I have magic enough to be considered an oddity, and I know my Father hates me for it." She shouldn't have made that last comment. She realised it as soon as it left her mouth, and she could now feel Fiyero staring at her even more intensely than before. "But no matter," she continued quickly, breaths coming quick and fast. "Why do you want to know?"

"You saved the Lion," Khanija answered simply. "You are one of few humans who would do such a thing, and you have magic. You're my best bet. Like I said, I cannot tell you everything here. It isn't safe. But I need your help. If you're willing to give it."

Elphaba's head was reeling. The faith Khanija had in her was – she admitted it to herself – terrifying. Fear bubbled up inside of her at the thought of it. She knew how to take care of Nessa. She knew how to keep house, and how to mostly stay out of trouble. She knew a few simple spells. She had even managed to help a Lion cub once who had desperately needed someone. But that had been years ago. The thought petrified her that this Tigress may need her help, and there was no telling whether Elphaba would be able to do so, and what would happen if she tried.

But she also knew the answer she would give.

"Of course, Khanija. Yes, I'll help you." She took a now confident step forward and knelt down beside the Tigress, close enough to be able to see her more clearly. "If you don't mind my asking – what happened to you?" She indicated the wound on Khanija's side. "You're hurt."

"Not here," Khanija repeated a third time, but her tone was much softer now, and unmistakably grateful. "I cannot stay much longer. I'm sorry."

"Well, is there somewhere else you would prefer to talk?"

Khanija pondered this. "Come to the Munchkin City Tower. There's a man there by the name of Korèl. He'll tell you what to do. Come whenever you can make it – Korèl is always there."

"I will," Elphaba agreed, a new note of fierceness in her voice. "As soon as I can."

Khanija nodded. "Thank you. Truly. You don't know how much this means to me."

Elphaba waved her hand. "Say nothing of it. I'll be at the Tower."

A long silence stretched out between them, only broken by Khanija's strained whisper. "Be careful, Miss Elphaba."

Elphaba frowned in confusion but nodded solemnly.

Khanija said no more, retreating as silently as she came into the trees. Elphaba and Fiyero stood alone once again, the only sound that of their mingled breaths. Elphaba suddenly began to feel a bit woozy as the strangeness of what had just happened hit her afresh. Her breath hitched, and she heard Fiyero whisper in her direction. "Elphaba? Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied faintly. "Come on."

They trudged back into the light in silence. Elphaba had quite forgotten about the cat tucked under her arm until he made his presence known with a soft mewl. Startled, she looked down at him, but he was no longer wriggling, merely watching her with that same look of intelligence from earlier. "Sometimes, I could really swear you're actually an Animal, little one."

"What?"

Elphaba turned her head to meet Fiyero's bewildered gaze. "I'm sorry," a crooked smile balanced on her lips. "I was talking to your cat."

Fiyero hmphed. His face betrayed amusement, although his shoulders were still tense and he didn't seem completely present.

Elphaba turned to face him fully. "You have questions."

He snorted. "Just a few."

"Later. I have to get back to..." she trailed off, horror dawning on her face. "Nessa!"

She had completely forgotten about her little sister.

…

"And just where have you been?"

Elphaba winced. She might have known Father would get involved.

She had raced back to Nessa's chamber, praying as she did so that she would get away with this little mishap. No such luck. Frex stood beside Nessa, who was now dressed, groomed and in her wheelchair, hands folded in her lap and pretty lips pursed, looking none too pleased at having been left alone. Frex himself had his hands clasped behind his back, his expression stormy. He dragged his eyes up and down his eldest daughter with disdain. "You look like you've been on a date with the swine."

Elphaba looked down, noticing for the first time how raggedy and dirty she looked. There were twigs and bits of greenery clinging to her frock, and no doubt her face was flushed.

He continued, "Not only did you abandon your sister when you ought to have been helping her get ready, but apparently you saw fit to run wild like an Animal, and show back up in my house like an Animal."

Frex's tone was cold, but it was the utter quietness of his words that sent shivers up Elphaba's spine. Nonetheless, her tongue got the better of her, and she couldn't hold back her equally cold response. "Animals are intelligent, sentient, valuable members of society. I understand if you want to insult me, but you can't do so at the expense of the Animals, your equals."

All at once, it seemed as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

"What!?" Frex's voice was deadly now, and Elphaba trembled as the weight of what she had said sank in. Two large steps, and his fist was suddenly in her hair. She sucked in a sharp breath, and he tugged roughly at her head. "Did you say that to me?"

Elphaba closed her eyes as he dragged her out of the room by her hair, closing the door behind him – shielding the eyes of his precious Nessarose. His face was suddenly very close to hers, and she almost gagged on the smell of his hot breath. "I will not be spoken to in this manner."

Elphaba tried the best she could to numb herself as he dragged her down the hallway, hauling open another door that was partially hidden behind the staircase and pulling her down the stairs into a room clothed in semi-darkness.

She bit her lip hard, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth, to keep from crying out as he hit her.

Ejaculations of "curse!" "wicked!" and "worthless!" punctured in between his blows. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't tune them out. His insults were like a cloth suffocating her, more painful perhaps even than the blows themselves.

When he was done, he retreated up the stairs, leaving her sprawled on the floor against the wall, and closing the door with a loud bang. There was no mistaking the unforgiving sound of the key turning in the lock.

Elphaba trembled from the chill that had suddenly blown through the room when he locked the door. Down here in the basement it was musty, smelly, and now so dark she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She wasn't afraid of the dark. She was used to the dark. Dark was a welcome relief from the misery she dwelled in day by day. Truth be told, she was far more afraid of the light, because nothing was hidden in the light. Still, it hurt so badly she couldn't breathe.

But she refused to cry.

She stayed curled up where she was. There was no point in moving. No one knew she was down here – he wouldn't tell anyone. He never did. Mareem knew that he locked her in here sometimes, but she never knew when he would do it. Elphaba only hoped that the old woman wouldn't worry if she didn't show back up for a while. The last time she'd been in the basement, Father had kept her there three full days, only coming in often enough to give her water to drink. By the time he came to fetch her, he had needed to drag her out half-asleep and trembling.

That had been after she accidentally caused a book to fall from a shelf and bruise Nessa's arm.

Elphaba had always known that Nessa was her Father's favourite. Nessa was beautiful. Nessa had smooth, creamy skin. Nessa was sweet-tempered and pliant. Nessa was loved by all. Nessa was a tragic victim of the misdeeds of her wicked sister. As much as she knew that Nessa was favoured, she knew that she was wicked. After all, the wicked reap only what they sow.

After a while she began to lose track of how much time had passed, and she was startled when the door once again opened, and she recognised her Father's heavy footsteps. She scrambled to get up, just in time for Frex to grab a hold of her arm and pull her up the steps. He didn't say a word, didn't spare her a glance as he pulled her to the kitchen. Mareem looked up from the sink in alarm as the door banged and Frex let go of Elphaba's arm. Elphaba slipped on the smooth tile as he did so, clattering to the floor against a chair slightly pulled out from the table.

Frex turned on his heel and left, still without a word.

Elphaba took a moment to catch her breath, and then suddenly Mareem was crouching beside her, gently helping her up.

She still wouldn't cry. She pulled up a veil over her face, unwilling to lift her eyes further than Mareem's stomach.

"Oh, Elphaba, love. I'm so sorry."

Her friend's mournful sigh was like a balm, and before Elphaba had processed the thought, she found herself leaning into the old woman's embrace, rough, aging hands gingerly rubbing her back. Her head slid down her chest into her lap, and her arms snaked around her waist like tree roots searching for life. Mareem cradled her like a babe, stroking her raven hair.

"I'm here, my sweet."

A memory rose from the depths of Elphaba's mind.

"I'm here, my sweet."

"I'm here, my sweet," three-year-old Elphaba recited the housekeeper's words, thumb in her mouth.

"That's right, Elphaba. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

Elphaba buried her face in Mareem's shoulder, the fingers of her free hand twisting in her ever-so-slightly greying hair. The two sat in front of the kitchen hearth, Mareem sitting on a chair, Elphaba in her lap.

"I want Mummy," Elphaba sniffled.

"I know, love."

"Why can't I see her?"

Mareem took a while to answer, and Elphaba went stiff in her arms. "Has she gone away?"

"Yes, away. But not so far away you can't think about 'er."

"Where did she go?" Elphaba turned her wide, doe-like eyes to the housekeeper, and Mareem's heart twisted.

"She went t' be with God."

"Will she be happy with him?"

"Very happy."

Elphaba frowned. "Why doesn't Daddy go to God too?"

"Oh, Elphaba. How could you say such a thing?"

Elphaba looked Mareem right in the eye, with disconcerting solemnity. "Daddy isn't happy. Maybe he would be happy if he went to God too."

"How d'you know yer Daddy isn't happy?"

"Happy people don't hit other people."

Tears welled in Mareem's eyes to hear the little girl say so. Her arms unconsciously tightened around her.

Elphaba's little brow furrowed some more. "WIll Mummy be happy without her green bottle?"

Mareem smiled a little wobbly. "She wanted you t'have it, love."

"Me? Why?"

Mareem lifted the delicate glass bottle from her apron pocket and placed it in Elphaba's tiny green hand, folding her fingers over it. "Must be special. She needed a special girl t' take care of it."

"I'm not special."

Mareem kissed her forehead. "Ye're more special than ye know."

Elphaba paused thoughfully. Her lower lip trembled. "Why doesn't Daddy like me?"

A small tear escaped the old woman's eye. "I don't know, Elphaba. I don't know."

"What time is it, Mareem?" Elphaba inquired finally, after a lapse of complete silence as the two simply clung to each other. Her voice was muffled, her face still pressed into Mareem's lap.

"Almost dinner. Perhaps ye'd better go t' bed. I'll take care of everything."

Elphaba pushed herself up, her aching muscles protesting. "No, Mareem. Don't do that. I'm fine."

Mareem sighed. Her Elphaba was far too mature for her years. It wasn't right. She silently mourned at the resigned look on the green girl's face, a look that had formed through many, many years of abuse from a father who was too blind to see what a treasure he had for a daughter. There was no arguing with her, though, and as much as she wished Elphaba would let herself be taken care of for once, she knew that the girl's moment of weakness had passed, and she would soldier on as she always did.

Elphaba did indeed soldier on, insisting that Mareem let her prepare for dinner as much as normal. Mareem still served, but Elphaba peered through the door as she did so. Fiyero sat in the same seat opposite Nessa as he had the previous night, and Elphaba's brow furrowed at the look of anxiety that was plain on his face. What did the Prince have to worry about? She watched him as he grasped Mareem's arm while she was serving him, and brought his face close to hers, seemingly asking her something. Mareem answered back just as quietly, and Fiyero's anxious expression deepened.

Nessa soon reclaimed his attention however, and Elphaba heard her bell-like laugh as Fiyero engaged her in conversation. Misery settled in her heart as she observed them. She wasn't born for the rose and pearl. She would never be allowed to have a simple, carefree conversation over dinner like that.

The evening grew late, and finally, the mansion had been locked up and Elphaba trudged up to bed, every step she took sending stabbing pain through her body. She bit back a whimper as she changed into her night clothes and settled uncomfortably in bed. Cowper jumped up onto the bed with her, and she smiled just faintly when he nuzzled her nose and curled up next to her face. Sighing, Elphaba searched under her pillow, fingers grazing the green bottle hidden underneath it. Her mother's bottle. The one she had entrusted to her. Elphaba held the bottle close to her chest, as if willing it to remove the ache there.

A/N: Khanija is pronounced Kan-EE-zhuh and Korèl is Kor-EL.