Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2006, Found: 2018.- Licia

"Ah yes, I almost forgot."

The governor picked the small, square box he'd brought with him up off the table, holding it out to her. Elphaba looked between the two men before reaching for it. She slowly lifted the lid and then pushed the tissue aside, surprised to find a book staring back at her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she glanced up at the governor.

"... this is what you brought me, Zor? A book?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Not just any book, Elphaba. Go on. Open it."

After a moment, she lifted it out of the box; the hard front and back of the book was covered in emerald green material, with gold edges and four simple numbers on the front of gold.

1916

She looked up at him, even more confused than before. "Open it. Trust me."

Slowly, she did. Small particles of dust wafted up to meet her, and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she laid eyes on the poppy, pressed between the front cover and the first page. Tenderly, she lifted the flower out of the book, holding it against her nose, eyes closing.

Poppies had always been her favorite flower-

Opening her eyes again, she turned to the scrawl on the first page; a young girl's careful cursive stared up at her, and after several seconds, she struggled to make out the name, before gently blowing at the light layer of dust that had collected around the pressed flower, which had hidden the majority of the name. The particles floated away like snowflakes caught in a winter's wind; she turned back to the page, now able to make out what was beneath.

Property of

Elphaba Frexparia Thropp

A shocked gasp escaped her throat, as she suddenly realized why the handwriting looked so familiar. Without a word, she sank onto the sofa, now recognizing her own name, written in cautious, careful cursive. It was the handwriting of a pre-teen girl, who would carefully select every word and thought, every private emotion that would go between the pages. "How could I not have recognized my own handwriting?" She whispered, tears beginning to prick at her eyes. She looked up at Zor, as Trism took a seat beside her, gently rubbing her back. "Where did you find this?"

"Tip found it." Zor replied softly, taking a seat on her other side. "We were going through a box of things my father had left behind, and it was in the bottom. He wanted to know what his grandfather was doing with an old diary from nineteen-sixteen. When I opened it to see who it belonged to," He shrugged. "All I could make out was 'Thropp'. I knew immediately it had to have something to do with you and your family. I didn't know which one it belonged to, but I knew that if I brought it to you, you'd be able to tell me. I didn't know it was yours, Fabala." He whispered, the nickname used by close friends and family falling from his lips. It had taken years for her to warm up to him enough to allow him to use such an intimate name, but eventually, she'd consented. Zor and Trot had become not just allies, but in a way, family.

"Forgive me, Zor, but I fail to understand." Trism whispered as he gently rubbed his wife's back. "I thought we were looking for the Thropp family jewels-"

"I haven't give up on those, Trism, it's just taking me a little longer than I'd hoped. I have a sneaking suspicion my father moved the majority of those out of state or gave them to other people who helped in the 'cause.'"

"You don't understand, my love," Elphaba, whispered, turning to her husband and laying a hand on his knee. "When we were under house arrest, before we left for..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "for the House of Special Purpose, Mama... she told my brother and sisters and I that... that we had to... to get rid of our diaries, for they told of our... of what we were doing with the jewels and... and our plans to escape-"

She held the small book to her chest. "But I don't want to, Mama. Grandmama gave me this diary for my birthday! Please!"

Gently, Melena cradled her daughter's face in her hands. "Oh, Fabala, you can't bring it along-"

"I'll hide it! I'll be very, very careful, please, Mama!"

Elia and Raina looked up from their places by the fireplace; flames licked at the pages, carefully written words blurred as ink began to run and the paper curled in on itself. "Fabala, you can't. It's too dangerous-"

The girl shook her head, holding the book tighter to her chest. "No, Mama, please! What... what if I give it to Cata, before we go? She can keep it safe for me!"

"Elphaba," The teenager turned at her father's stern tone, and Frexpar softened, at the sight of his third child so distressed. "Listen to your mother, please."

"I begged Mama to let me give it to Cata, but she wouldn't let me. I don't remember how I managed to hide it or where I put it, but it was somewhere in the palace. I gave my other diary- the one from nineteen-eighteen- to Cata, I think." She furrowed a brow in thought. "I burned the others, like Mama told me too." She turned her gaze back to book in her hands. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Zor. Thank you." He reached out, taking her other hand and squeezing gently.

"I know it's not the jewels, Elphaba, but it is a piece of your childhood. I know how much it meant to you-"

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and after a moment, she leaned over, wrapping him in a hug. "Thank you, so much."