Rifiuto: Non Miriena

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

"I didn't give you up, not right away. You were with Liir and I for a year, before we... before we decided that giving you up would be better."

"Why?"

She didn't miss the hardening tinge to his voice, and winced. She couldn't delay the truth of the matter any longer. If he got angry with her- which he had every right to do- and refused to listen or even ever speak to her again- which she couldn't blame him if he chose to- it was his right. Not hers. He had every right to be angry at her. She'd denied him it for far too long.

Nearly seventeen years too long.

"After you turned a year, I wanted to get back into skating, into competing. I wanted to try for the Vinkun Skating Team that was headed to the Ozlympics in two years time, and... I couldn't juggle being a mother with skating."

"So you gave me up? Just like that for your own selfish reasons?"

She took a deep breath. "It was more than that, Yero!" She replied, glancing back towards the palace, where she knew Sarima was keeping watch, quietly in the shadows. "Rima... Sarima couldn't have children. That's why Liir and I gave you up."

"What?"

She could see the surprise in his gaze, saw the anger that had been slowly building over the last couple of hours stall. It seemed to hesitate, waiting her out. "By then, Sarima had gotten married, but she couldn't conceive. Turns out... she's infertile." She swallowed. "And I... I wanted to get back into competing, so I came up with the 'perfect' plan. Or so I thought at the time." She sighed. "I asked Rima to take you; to raise you as her own, just until I could get back to where I'd been, and... and could create more stability for you. In the time between my pregnancy being announced and your first birthday, the sponsors Liir and I had earned were gone. We weren't broke, but we were barely surviving, and with a baby to raise..." She stopped, not daring to look at him. "I knew if we started competing again, things would get easier. We'd be able to earn more sponsors, and put enough money away to raise you. It was supposed to be temporary. A year, two, at most. Rima would get to be a mother, and I could get back into competing. And in that time, Sarima had come to love you as her own, but she knew that eventually, I would want you back... and just as I was about to ask-"

She choked, tears filling her voice, and she hung her head.

"Liir died." He whispered, and she nodded. Her small arms slid around herself, and she curled inward, doubling over as her small body wracked with contained sobs for the man she'd built her life, her career with.

"It was so sudden..." She struggled to catch her breath. "He kissed me goodnight and..." She glanced up at him. "The next morning..." She choked on a sob. "He never woke up... he never woke up... died in his sleep... from... from a... a heart attack... He left me alone... completely... utterly... alone..."

"What about me? You still had me! You could have asked for me back-" He snapped, suddenly upset that she had been concerned with being alone when he'd been there, with her sister, her own son.

"My husband had just died! I was in no position to raise a child! Especially not on my own!" She cried, turning to him. "I was in no state to take you back, and in all honesty, at that point, even if I had been, I wouldn't have wanted to! You reminded me too much of Liir, and I knew I wouldn't have been able to live with the knowledge that my husband was not there to raise his son! I could barely take care of myself, let alone my child! So no, I didn't want you back! Not then! And the longer I thought about it, not ever."

His mouth dropped in shock, and after a moment, she stood, moving away from him. "I realized not long after the funeral that... that I wasn't fit to be a mother. And Rima was doing a perfectly fine job of raising you, that if I asked for you back, you wouldn't want to come. Why would you? You were being raised as the Crown Prince of the Vinkus. How could that possibly compare to being the son of a former Ozlympian? It couldn't." She turned back to him. "So I never came back. Rima kept me updated; how you were doing in school, how tall you were getting, what your favorite hobbies were, but I never asked her too. She did it of her own volition."

"Wait, so you just-"

"I walked away and... and then you showed up at St. Prowd's eight years later, with a talent for Roaring, and... Rima asked me to coach you. I refused at first, but... but she wouldn't let me out of it. Most of the other coaches thought it was just the young queen exerting her power over one of her subjects; none of them knew the truth. She begged me too, with the argument that, "He's your son, Mully. If you can't find the strength to raise him as his mother, as you should be, then raise him in Roaring. Teach him to love this like you loved pairs. If Liir left you any little piece of himself behind, it's Fiyero. You created him, you carried him and gave birth to him, not me. You named him, not me. He was your brave little lion, from the moment you conceived him, isn't that what you told me? Isn't that why you gave him the name you did? You knew he'd help you get through Liir's death, even then. You just need to let him in. And if you can't or won't as his mother, then let him in as his coach. He may never be a pairs skater like you and Liir, but if he can find even a tenth of the joy in Roaring that you found all those years ago in pairs, then you'll have done more than just given birth to him. You'll have made sure Liir's legacy lives on in some form, especially since it's his son." I only agreed if she promised never to tell you the truth. And... even now, Rima kept her promise. She never told you. She just... made me tell you myself."

She let her gaze move to his. In all honesty, she wasn't surprised to see the boiling rage bubbling up to the surface, and she didn't blame him. She was expecting much worse, if she were completely honest with herself. And there was still a chance this could go completely, horribly wrong. But she wasn't prepared for what happened next.

In two quick strides, he was in front of her, and in what was less than seconds, but felt like minutes, his hand had made contact with her cheek. She started in complete surprise. Fiyero had never struck anyone, especially not his coach; he'd been raised a gentleman, to never hit a woman, no matter how angry he got. Fight with words, not with fists, as his... uncle? Father? always said. But this...

"How dare you call yourself my mother. You said it yourself, you never wanted to be. You were only ever concerned with your own career, your own life, that you never once thought about mine. Selfish doesn't even begin to describe you. Narcissistic is what you are. Narcissistic and conceited and... evil beyond compare." He studied her for a moment. "Evil doesn't even fit. It's too soft. Wicked is more appropriate."

And without another word, he turned and stalked back into the palace, storming past his parents and Elphaba. The door to the study slammed shut, but Elphaba watched as Sarima rushed to her sister, who crumpled to the ground. "Mully, talk to me! Mully, what happened? Mully-"

"Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone, Rima?" Mulhama cried, turning to her sister, as Sarima gathered her into her chest, rocking gently back and forth. "Why couldn't you leave my past alone?"