Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2009. Found: 2018.- Licia
"I'm so proud of you, my son."
He had to have heard wrong; it was the roar of the crowd around them that made it seem like she'd... but before he could ask, Mulhama pulled away, going back to Elphaba, who wrapped her arms around the older woman with a squeal. He watched the two women who had played such prominent roles in his life from the time he was a child, and a tiny part of him suddenly found himself questioning everything he knew.
"Yero. Yero!"
He looked up, pulled from his thoughts by Elphaba's voice as she reached for his hand. "Yeah?"
His wife furrowed a brow briefly, her smile faltering slightly, before shaking it off. "Dinner at your parents' place? It's been such a long time since we've seen them-" He nodded, catching something flash in Mulhama's eyes.
Elphaba smoothed the skirt of her short black dress with the puffed sleeves. The skirt of the dress hit just above her knees, and she wore a pair of simple black heels; her long black hair cascaded down her back in curls. "Do you think they'll remember me?"
He tugged her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How could they forget the girl they took in all those years ago?" She nodded, squeezing his hand as they waited for the door to open. Light soon flooded the porch of the modest palace, and Elphaba found herself staring into familiar blue eyes.
Sarima Tiggelar smiled softly, eyes lighting on the girl she'd raised alongside her son. "Elphaba! My Oz, look at how you've grown!" She instantly wrapped the younger woman in a hug, one which took a huge weight off Elphaba's shoulders before turning to her son. "Yero! Congratulations on placing!"
They were quickly ushered into the foyer and led into the parlor-
"Ah, Mulhama? What-" Both teenagers were stunned to find their coach deep in conversation with Fiyero's father. Instantly, all conversation stopped, as Mulhama's striking blue eyes landed on her star performers. Elphaba immediately went to the woman, placing a kiss on her cheek, while Fiyero just stood there, studying the older woman.
Blue eyes. Mahogany hair. A slightly upturned nose. If you didn't know any better, you'd swear Mulhama looked almost exactly like-
"Shall we eat?" He turned as his mother came back in from the kitchen, and started, eyes widening as he found himself staring into Mulhama's identical features.
"Yero? Honey, are you okay?"
He looked up, pulled out of his study of his fish by Elphaba's hand on his wrist. He forced a tight smile, knowing that he couldn't hide it from the adults, and not missing the glances Mulhama and Nastoya shared. "Are you all right, Fiyero?" Mulhama's husband asked, taking a sip of his drink. The young man nodded, and slowly, the table fell back into conversation-
"Are you two twins? Is that why you look so much alike?"
All conversation stopped, as several pairs of eyes turned to the young player. "Yero, what are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, Fabala, don't give me that innocent act and tell me that you haven't noticed the near identical similarities between our coach and my mother."
The green girl glanced from her husband to their coach and the woman she considered a mother and back, brow furrowing. "They do share... similarities."
"Similarities." He scoffed softly. "It's like looking in a mirror." He turned his gaze to both women. He'd been stewing about this ever since the match, ever since Mulhama had called him her son, and he was going to get to the bottom of it, regardless of whether it disrupted dinner or not. "So are you twins? Or just sisters who look really similar?"
The two women in question shared a glance; Nastoya bit her lip while Mulhama set her glass down. She sighed, turning to the young man before her. "You're right, Yero. Sarima and I are sisters. Twins. We're identical."
"But... at the hospital the other day, you used Tiggelar-" Elphaba started, and Mulhama held up a hand.
"That's because I am a Tiggelar. By birth. Tiggelar women don't change their name when they marry unless they wish to. We keep our name in this family, and pass it on to our children."
"But... I married Yero, so..."
"You weren't born a Tiggelar." Nastoya replied softly. "Those that are born into the line keep the name, unless they decide not to."
"But Mulhama-"
"When Liir and I were married, I chose to take his name. It was only after his death that I went back to using my maiden name, but the whole sports world knows me by Kolenhof, and so I coach under that name. But outside of the sports world and the ice rink, I'm a Tiggelar."
Fiyero nodded slowly; that explained why his mother and Mulhama looked so similar- they were sisters.
"So... you're Yero's... aunt?" Elphaba asked as Mulhama bit her lip. "But... wait... you said that you and Liir had a son, when you were eighteen. What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he still alive? Where is he?"
The older woman swallowed thickly, her words from after the competition coming back to her. My son. How could she possibly tell Elphaba about her child without exposing the truth- the whole, confusing, heart-wrenching truth? Her gaze darted to Fiyero, who sat waiting for her to respond, and her heart wrenched, as thoughts of her former husband pushed to the forefront. Oh, Liir, my love, what do I say? How do I tell them? Where do I even begin? What if he never forgives me?
A moment passed, before she glanced around. The blood pounded in her ears, and she stood from the table, needing air. "Mulhama?" Sarima reached for her, but she shook her sister's hand off, rushing from the dining room with a soft apology. The others watched her go, before Sarima slowly stood, following her sister out with a silent nod.
"You had to know that he was going to discover the truth some day, Mulhama." The former figure skater turned, finding her sister standing on the back porch, arms folded across her chest. "He's no longer a child. You can't hide this forever."
She shook her head. "This was supposed to be so simple, Rima," She whispered, meeting her sister's gaze. "He loves you. You're the woman who raised him, you're his mother-"
"And so are you, but in a way I could never be." The queen replied, moving down the steps and hurrying to her sister, taking her hands. "And don't you dare pretend that that year you and Liir had with him wasn't important. It was exceedingly important, to both of you. To all of you."
Mulhama shook her head, tears trailing down her cheeks. "He'll never forgive me once he finds out the truth. He was raised a Crown Prince. How can he possibly go from that to... to a..."
"To the son of a historic Ozlympian figure skater with ten medals total under her belt, three of those medals being Gold? Mulhama, he loves you like a son already, because he is your son." She reached up, brushing a tear gently off her sister's cheek. "Oh, Mulhama. You're carried this way too long-"
"I gave up my son," Mulhama whispered, swallowing thickly. "In pursuit of my career, Sarima. I gave up my son in pursuit of my career! I essentially abandoned him! All so I could... could..."
"Could build your own life."
"How is pursuing my career building my own life, Rima?"
The queen reached up, taking her sister's face in her hands. "You created stability, for yourself and your family, so that when you could take him back, he'd never want for anything. Your intentions were good, Mully." She whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "And once you explain that, I'm sure, after he takes it all in, he'll understand why you did what you did, why you gave him to me and walked away." She pulled her sister close, and Mulhama rested her head to her sister's shoulder.
"And after Liir's death?"
"Oh, Mully, you weren't able to care for yourself, let alone a child after Liir died. You needed time to yourself-"
Mulhama pulled away and started to pace. "Eight years, Rima! Eight years, until he started training at St. Prowd's! How do you explain that?"
"You just-"
"What am I supposed to say, Rima? 'Guess what, Yero, the woman that you thought was your mother all these years isn't actually your mother, she's your aunt! I'm your mother!' Yeah, that would go over real well, Ri-"
"Is that why you called me your son today after the competition?" Both women turned, to find Fiyero coming down the back porch steps; Elphaba stood in the doorway. "Because I actually am your son?"