Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2009. Found: 2018.- Licia

Mulhama took a deep, shaky breath, feeling Sarima press a soft kiss to her cheek before the other woman pulled away. The queen made her way up the steps, gently squeezing Fiyero's shoulder. "Listen to her, Yero. Get the full story before you start jumping to conclusions and making accusations." She pressed a soft kiss to his temple before going to Elphaba.

"What's going on?" But Sarima gently took Elphaba's arm, leading her back into the palace with a soft,

"This is something that's been a long time coming."

Once they were gone, Fiyero turned back to Mulhama, who couldn't look at him. Her gaze studied the stone at her feet, tears sliding down her cheeks in silent rivers. Fiyero watched her for several minutes, his mother's words- no, wait, was Sarima even his mother?- ringing loud in his head. From where he stood, she looked like a scared little girl, huddling in the corner of a room, away from her parents' arguing. A part of him wanted to forget what he'd heard and go back into the palace, back to dinner, but he couldn't get his feet to move; he stayed rooted to the spot. So instead, he took to studying her.

He never realized exactly how small and lithe Mulhama was until now; she'd had to be, to be a figure skater, and a world-renowned champion at that. Her tiny, petite frame stood no taller than roughly five foot four, and he imagined the formidable force she'd been on the ice in her younger years. And when she'd partnered with Liir...

He realized now that he'd never actually seen video of her skating. He'd never seen the spins, tricks, lifts and throws she'd attempted and succeeded in her career as a figure skater; he knew only what she herself had revealed to him over all these years, which, in all honesty, wasn't much. But her love story- the success and tragedy that was her partnership, relationship, marriage and widowhood to Liir Kolenhof- was known throughout the sports world; Mulhama had left the ice for three years after Liir's premature death, refusing to step foot on an ice rink until a young skater named Zoria Diggs had come to her, asking to be coached by only the best. Mulhama had at first refused, before finally deciding that yes, coaching she could do. But she would never skate again; she had been a pairs skater, would always be a pairs skater, and her partner was gone, reducing their pair to a single.

But other than that, you know next to nothing about her. And what you know, you've been told for years, which means it has to be true. But this... this... He shook his head, sending his thoughts scattering. After a moment, he moved down the steps, stopping at the bottom, not wanting to get any closer. Before he could say a word, she spoke, her voice soft and choked with tears.

"Wh... what do you want to know?"

He sighed. "Who are you?"

She swallowed, keeping her gaze locked on the stone at his feet, her voice devoid of emotion as she rattled off basic facts. "My name is Mulhama Kolenhof. I'm Sarima Tiggelar's twin sister, Crown Princess of the Vinkus. I'm a former champion figure skater; I have over twenty medals, all in pairs, three of those being Ozlympic gold. I met Liir Kolenhof when I was five and he was eight; we were placed together for pairs, but didn't start competing together until we were eleven and thirteen, respectfully. Over those ten years, we attended six Ozlympics, taking home one silver, two bronze and three gold in the pairs competitions. We married when I was seventeen and he was twenty. Liir died of a heart attack in his sleep at twenty-four."

"And?" He asked softly, waiting. Slowly, her gaze lifted, locking on his.

"I had a son, Liir's son, at eighteen."

He didn't blame her, for not acknowledging that he was her son now, when she had back at the tournament. He didn't acknowledge her as his mother, though they didn't for very different reasons. He had no idea what was truth and what was fiction anymore, and she... she had obviously been carrying this secret for seventeen years...

They stood in silence, Mulhama worrying her bottom lip, before she shrugged half-heartedly, lifting her arms in a sign of defeat. "What more do you want to know, Yero?" She choked, turning around before taking a seat on the bench she stood near.

Her hands slid over her thighs in nervous fidgeting before finding purchase between her knees, and she swallowed. He moved closer, slowly, arms crossing his chest. He watched her, noticed how her nose wrinkled every time she sniffled-something he did as well when he was upset and trying hard not to let his emotions or tears get the better of him. He watched as her leg started to shake, a nervous habit from being forced to sit still, and thought of the countless times Elphaba had to slide a hand over his knee to get him to stop, because it was so subconscious, he no longer noticed that he did it. He could see the gears shifting and turning in her head, how she was worrying and worrying this confrontation over and over, until it would die, and then she'd go back later on and resurrect it to worry it again.

He stopped directly in front of her, with only a few inches separating them, and let his gaze rove over her; her long, thick mahogany hair was similar in shade to his, and he watched it fall into her eyes in that similar wave that his did to him. As he stood over her as she sat on the bench, it struck him just how... how tiny... she truly was. Incredibly, surprisingly, tiny. And if what she and his mother said was true, then this tiny sprite of a woman, this champion ice skater, this incredibly petite force of nature, both on and off the ice, had given birth to him.

He took a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully. "Did..." He stopped, teeth sliding out to worry his bottom lip in a gesture that mirrored hers from earlier. "Did you... did you really give birth to me?" She nodded. "Are you really my mother?"

"Yes."