Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: So this chapter ties in the title of the first story- Bell Tolls Three. Written: 2006, Found: 2018.- Licia
"Don't you think you're jumping the broom a little too fast here, my husband?"
Trism looked up at her; stopping his pacing. "No! Fabala, you went outside into a snowstorm last night! When I found you, you'd stripped your coat and gloves off and were prancing around in a circle like you were... dancing around a bonfire or something! I thought you'd lost your mind!"
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, a blush coloring her cheeks.
"What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there?"
"I was fine, Trism. I wasn't hurt. I didn't hurt anybody-" He waved it away, moving past her and pulling the door open. She grabbed his bicep, tugging gently. "Tris. Talk to me. It's not just my little jaunt outside last night; something else is bothering you. I know it. I can sense it." She reached up, caressing his cheek. "What's wrong, my king?"
He sighed, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "A body was pulled from the Nevoka River, back in Fliaan."
She furrowed a brow. "So? Bodies are pulled from the river all the time. Suicides and other such reasons. What makes this one so special?"
A moment passed, before he took a deep breath. "What makes this one so special, is it was bound in chains and shot multiple times. Its skull was partially bashed in, and there's a probability that there is cyanide within its system." Elphaba stopped on her way to the vanity, turning back.
"Ch... chains? Cyanide? Shot?" He nodded.
"Mama? What is the matter?"
Melena turned red eyes to her daughters. "Oh, my darlings..." She reached up taking Elphaba's hand of her shoulder into hers and pressing a kiss to it. "We must... pray for Our Blessed Friend."
Sophelia's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why, Mama? What happened?"
Melena held out a letter; her second oldest took it, dark eyes quickly scanning the words. "'... I shall not live long on this earth. To Mother and Father, you must know, that it will not be by the hand of the poor of Fliaan, my own people that shall end my life, but the hand of the nobles, those whom share your blood, that will snuff out my life, just as the light of Fliaan will be snuffed out in two years' time. For ten years, your family shall sit not upon the throne of Fliaan, but lie within the dirt of our blessed Mother Country; in ten years time, should one of your beloved children survive, they will be placed back upon the throne, but only after greed has taken hold of our land Fliaan and near destroyed her.'"
The sisters shared horrified glances. Nessa curled into Elphaba's side, and she wrapped an arm around her younger sister. It was all too horrifying to believe. There was no way what Yackle said would ever come true. Never. The Fliaanian people loved them, loved their family, and Mama and Papa... they were even more beloved by their people than the Vinkun royals were in their homeland.
"'If you hear the sound of church bells, then know that Yackle has been killed- murdered at the hand of your blood. And if the bell tolls two, then none of your family, shall live past two years. But if church bell tolls three, know that one of your family may survive, and return to sit upon the throne, to rule the land of Fliaan again. But only one; for your family will be killed at the hands of the Fliaanian people. And I, at the hand of royal blood. I am no longer among the living. Pray, pray, be strong, think of your blessed family.- Yackle'" Raina lowered the letter, meeting Melena's gaze.
"What does it mean, Mama?" Nessa asked, fear in her eyes. She burrowed into Elphaba's side, clutching tight to her sister, frightened. The very thought, that the people of Fliaan could turn on them, their royal family, their rulers, was too terrifying, too unimaginable, that it had to be nothing more than a nightmare, written out in worry. It would never happen; Mama was worrying over nothing.
Melena took the letter back, folding it carefully. "It means-" She stopped, turning towards the window. A moment passed, before she stood; the girls followed her, gathering at the window. "Church bells..." She covered her mouth with her hand, listening.
One... two... three...
A soft flutter of hope lit in her chest, and she sniffled, turning back to her daughters. "Yackle is dead." Slowly, she sank to the floor, the girls hurrying to her. Raina and Elia knelt beside her, wrapping her in their arms, as Elphaba held tight to Nessa, silently counting the ringing of the bells.
One, two, three... one, two, three...
"Unnamed God... Yackle is dead..."
"And?" Silence. "Trism, and?"
He shook his head. "They believe it may be the body of that... that fraud that... managed to worm their way into your parents' court, the one who claimed to be able to heal your brother-"
"Yackle." He nodded. She shivered; even after all these years, even knowing that the mystic was dead and gone, the name still sent shivers up her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, quickly rubbing her arms in attempt to warm herself, to chase the chill a mere name could cause away, maybe even an attempt to chase away the acts that mystic had performed not just on her brother, but her and her sisters as well. Trism made his way to her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her against him, in hopes of calming her down. She sighed, relaxing in his embrace, before pulling away.
"Wait, why didn't you tell me last night after you brought me back inside? Why did you wait to-"
"Because I was worried about you being outside as you were." He glanced back towards the window, and the raging storm still continuing outside. "And... I also didn't know how you would react." He reached up, brushing that errant strand out of her eyes. "I didn't want to tell you and upset you, because I know how close your family was to-"
"Yackle scared me, Tris." She cut him off, meeting his gaze. "To be honest, I was glad when word came, when Mama got that letter. I never admitted it to her, or my sisters or Shell or Papa, but I was glad to find out that Yackle was dead."