Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2006. Found: 2018.- Licia
She quickly and quietly served the tea, trying hard to not pay attention to the conversation, as was required by the servants, but it was hard. She had been the Empress's personal favorite for years, and was used to keeping her ears tuned to any form of conversation. The children sat quietly, as they were used to doing, and listened, only answering when being spoken too, sharing silent conversations among themselves when they thought the adults weren't looking. Elphaba, however, was not at tea, and after a moment, Melena bid the young maid go in search of her third daughter.
She did not get very far. Midway down the hall, voices met her, and she ducked within a small nook, peeking around the corner.
"... it is very tragic, what is happening within the streets of our beloved Fliaan during this... revolution."
"Indeed, it is, Kauri. But know that no matter what happens, the people still love your mother and father, and all of you, and that love will see you through the revolution."
The girl smiled softly, sadly, at him, a haunted look in her dark eyes. "Thank you, Officer Meszha."
The young man bowed to her and then hurried off, leaving the young girl in the hallway by herself. Without a word, the young maid slipped out from hiding, making her way towards the young princess, who appeared to be lost in thought. "Kauri?"
Slowly, Elphaba's dark eyes moved from their place trained on the floor to meet the maid's, and she watched as something flashed in the girl's eyes. "Yes, Cata?"
She bit her lip. "Your is mother wondering where you got off to. She asked me to fetch you. You're late for tea."
Elphaba nodded, and silently fell into step beside the older girl, following her back to Melena's Rose Room. Once seated between Raina and Elia, normality returned- for a short time. The third daughter seemed to be uncharacteristically silent, her mind elsewhere. It was common for Elphaba to offer up small stories or bits of conversation she found interesting during tea, but today, not even a whispered 'Yes' or 'No' came from her lips. She sipped her tea in silence, gaze locking on the plate of pastries in the center of the table.
"I don't see how you can be so strong, Melena. I would surely have fallen apart by now, were revolution to hit the Gillikin." Glinda glanced at her mother as the others shared glances at the woman's statement. The empress smiled quickly, meeting her sister-in-law's gaze.
"It's not easy, Illnora. But we have each other." She reached for Nessa's hand, squeezing gently. "And our Fabala," Melena's gaze lit on her third daughter. "Fabala is a reminder to all of us to be strong. No matter the horrors we hear of, Fabala is always calmest. My darling girl has the bravery of a thousand Fliaanian soldiers, and she reminds us all every day to be just as brave as her, for she is not scared."
The young princess let a quick smile tug at her lips, before it fell. Minutes later, she pushed her cup away. "Excuse me, Mama. Forgive me, but I wish to be excused." Without waiting for a response, she slipped out of her seat between her older sisters, making a beeline for the door. The others shared glances; it was uncommon for Elphaba to ever leave a room in such a hurry as she had. When Raina and Elia offered to go after her, Melena shook her head. Cata, seeing this as her chance, quickly removed the empty platter that had once held finger sandwiches from the table and grabbed one of the empty tea pots, quietly excusing herself to the kitchens.
Once outside of the empress's private quarters, she handed the things to Candle, another maid on her way to the kitchens, and then hurried off to find Elphaba. She searched everywhere, turning up no sign of the young girl. On her way out of the children's classroom, she stopped, listening. She stood just in outside the doorway to the small parlor of the children's quarters that the five children shared; a fire crackled in the grate, and there was no one in the room-
More soft sobbing.
A shuddering breath.
Another sob.
Slowly, she turned, pushing the door gently open, scanning for any sign of the person making the noise. The parlor was dark, due to the drawn curtains, but there was enough light coming through the crack in the curtains, and from the fireplace that she could make out shapes of the furniture and bookcases. Another sob reached her ears, and she entered cautiously, a hunter in search of her prey.
No one.
Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her.
She turned to go, and again, heard something.
A gasp for breath, followed by several hard sobs and the sound of someone sniffling.
Her head turned in the direction of the noises, and she slowly picked her way through the semi-darkened room, before finally rounding the corner that led to Elphaba and Nessa's room.
There, on the floor in the corner, between the room she shared with her sister and the parlor she and her siblings called theirs, crouched the third Kauri of the Thropp dynasty. As pale as her mother, Elphaba had tears streaming down her cheeks, her nose was red and raw and dripped in the most unladylike way. The elegant twist her mother had had her dark hair put up in that morning was falling out, and she was struggling between catching her breath and sobbing.
Suddenly, it became quite clear to the young maid that for all Elphaba's bravery, for all the praise her mother placed on her for being 'so strong, so brave' in this dark time in their family's history, that Elphaba was not only under considerable, terrible strain, but she was buckling beneath it, and it threatened to drown her, like it often drowned her oldest sister. That that much strain could be placed upon such young shoulders just showed that she was so exceedingly young, so helpless, so hurt, and yet, she also showed considerable resolve, lasting as long as she did, before excusing herself to break down in the privacy of her and Nessa's rooms instead of before her family.
She knew all, knew everything that was going on, and though her youth had kept her from understanding it all, she understood enough that it was slowly destroying her. Killing her. And she was concealing it, hiding it, for the sake of her beloved mother.
"Oh, Kauri."
The whisper was soft, but not soft enough that Elphaba didn't hear. Her head lifted automatically, and she choked on a sob, reaching up to brush at the tears on her cheeks, swiping the back of her hand along the bottom of her nose, collecting the mucus that dripped from the tip of it in a way that if Melena saw, she'd be scolded for. "Cata."
Her voice was thick with tears, and she let loose a soft sob, tears filling her eyes and sliding down her cheeks as she once again crumbled. Slowly, the maid moved to kneel before her, digging into her pocket and pulling out a handkerchief to quickly wipe at the girl's nose. Elphaba let her, ducking her head once the girl removed the cloth, and sobbing. She let out a low, soft, pitiful wail; similar to the sound an abandoned dog made, and gently, the maid reached out to take her shoulders. "Oh Elphaba Frexparia-"
"What if they come, Cata? What if they come to take her away? Papa will never-"
The maid furrowed a brow. "What if who comes to take who away, Kauri? I don't understand."
"Mama! What if they come and take her away and kill her? They'll leave us alone, and Papa cannot-" The girl dissolved into heart-wrenching, painful sobs, throwing her arms around the older girl, resting her head on the maid's shoulder. Her small body shook with sobs as she finally gave up and gave in, her cries echoing through the quiet rooms.
Unaccustomed to being touched by any of the royal children in such a way, it took the her a moment before she finally slid her arms around the teenage girl, holding her close. She reached up, stroking a hand through the messy black curls, humming softly on occasion. Eventually, she stopped her humming, and simply held the girl, allowing her to cry herself into exhaustion.
Soft laughter reached her ears, and the woman looked up, watching as Elphaba held out a strawberry dipped in fresh whipped cream to her husband. He pulled away briefly, giving her a look, and she laughed. Finally, after giving her one last look that screamed that he didn't fully trust her, the young king opened his mouth and let his queen feed him the sweet, sticky dessert. She giggled, finishing the other half of the fruit with a smirk, as the juice dripped down her chin in a light red line. She reached up to catch it, but her husband beat her too it, grabbing a napkin and gently wiping it away, before he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss.
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, as she reached up, cradling his face in her hand as the kiss deepened slightly. Eventually, the Vinkun king pulled away, kissing her one last time before reaching for his mug. He took a sip before holding it out to her. She accepted with a small smile, taking a sip before setting it down again and returning her attention to her husband, capturing his lips in another kiss.
Dinner had finished an hour and a half ago, and the young rulers had slipped away to the kitchens of Colwen Grounds for some coffee and strawberries, promising to have the servants bring some back for everyone- for it was the first night of Aelfastia, the week-long Fliaanian holy holiday that observed the arrival of Saint Aelphaba, who had come to Fliaan to spread the word of the Unnamed God to the people; while xervices, feasts and small gifts were exchanged, in honor of Aelphaba's gifts to the people of Fliaan- but somewhere along the way, their plan had been pushed aside in favor of each other. She knew that the young empress wasn't particularly religious anymore- the slaughter of her family and her ten years in an orphanage in Munchkinland would do that to a person- but she still observed the holy days and holy holidays, because they were a part of her; they were as much a part of her as her black hair and the diamonds by her eyes.
The young king sighed into the kiss, running a hand up her back and quickly removing the single bobby pin that held her twist in place. The soft strands cascaded down her back in a waterfall of raven silk, and he tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her flush against him. Cata glanced at the other servants; some watched them with looks of surprise or shock, others with looks of envy, longing or sadness.
"They dare to do that here? Does the king plan to take Her Majesty upon the table before us?" One of the girls, a young teenager named Lyira asked one of the others, a look of longing to be touched and kissed the way her mistress was, flitting across her face, for the girl was a romantic at heart. Cata chuckled softly to herself, and shook her head. She watched as Trism broke the kiss, meeting her gaze with a look that screamed absolute and true love. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, whispering tenderly those three little words many of the young women in the royal household longed to hear some day directed at them. Their young empress beamed at him, reaching up to brush her thumb across the apple of his cheek, as she returned the sentiment. Again, he kissed her, drinking her in, before pulling away and kissing her forehead.
She watched as he pulled away, making his way towards the long table in the center of the kitchen. "Sorry about that, Cata-"
"Never apologize for showing affection to your wife, Your Majesty. For you never know when it may be the last time you do so." The cook glanced at Elphaba, who had joined him, and Elphaba knew she was speaking of her parents, and the massacre that had stolen them from the world. Elphaba remained silent, sipping her husband's cup of coffee as he asked about bringing coffee and dessert into the parlor. Cata agreed, saying she'd have a couple of the girls get right on it; she glanced at Elphaba, who stayed quiet. Trism thanked her, and with a kiss to Elphaba's head, left the kitchen, returning to the back parlor. Once gone, Cata returned to Elphaba, who looked up at her.
"What? Cata, what's wrong?"
The cook simply shook her head. "Nothing, Your Majesty. I'm just glad to see you so happy. I'm glad that the burdens you carry are no longer your own, but ones you can share with His Majesty. There was a time, not very long ago, when you felt you could not share those burdens with anyone, not even a lowly scullery maid."