Rifiuto: Non Miriena

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

"What you ask for is no fairy tale."

The strong scent of coffee wafted up to his nose, and he looked up as Cata set the cup before him. He let his gaze linger on the woman for several minutes, drinking in the soft roundness of her face, the brightness of her hazel eyes, the worry lines that seemed to permanently scar her forehead, the gentle upturn of her nose, the scar against her lower lip. She was not much older than Elphaba- perhaps by three or four years- though she looked much older than she was. Perhaps it was the constant hours she spent in the kitchens, overseeing the other scullery maids, surrounded by the steam and heat from the oven and stove, or the long hours spent up at night, when she would bake to calm her insomnia, but something was making the young woman appear much older than her thirty-five years.

Or, perhaps, it was the past she carried with her, hidden to all but the Empress, that aged her so prematurely.

For only Elphaba knew the truth of Cata's origins; only Elphaba knew the stories Cata kept like a well-read book.

Only Elphaba knew of Cata's childhood at the Winter Palace, those thirty-some years ago, when she had been a Grand Kauri of Fliaan, a daughter of the highest social standing in all of Oz, much higher than mere princesses of the Rose Garden or any of the other small kingdoms of this world, when her family had lived in a world of jewels and parties and sickening excess- but lived as humbly as possible, despite their grand titles and high status.

"Tell me, Cata." He reached out, grabbing the woman's wrist as she moved to pour herself a cup, and the woman stopped, gaze snapping to the man's hand. His long, slender fingers gently cradled her wrist, being ever so tender, that it startled her, despite the fierceness of his grip. "Please. Tell me. I beg you."

He released her, and she finished pouring her cup before setting the pot back upon the stove and taking a seat across from him. Unlike Elphaba, whom Cata often sat beside when they spent afternoons in the kitchen reminiscing about old memories, Trism was, despite his gentle nature, not someone Cata fully trusted yet. Though it was evident that the young royal loved Elphaba with all his heart and soul, that he loved the children he had made with the former Kauri, and he was kind and courteous with all the staff of Cowlen Grounds, often making sure if there was food left over from dinner, that they could send it home to their families, or making sure they had extra time off to spend with their loved ones, or making sure there was a little extra pay for them if something came up with one of their loved ones, he was still an outsider, that young, innocent Vinkun Prince who had come with his parents and brother to meet the Kauris when they were children, and Cata had a difficult time separating the little boy that she remembered in her head from the young man who now sat across from her.

It wasn't that Cata didn't trust him- for he had showed as much if not more loyalty to her and the rest of the staff as they had shown to the royal family, and it was more than evident that despite their status, Elphaba and their children were his first and foremost priority, at least when they were home- but she didn't know him. Not like she knew Elphaba.

But then again, Cata and Elphaba shared a bond that Trism and Elphaba would never share.

One I hope they never share. For it was one shaped by the splendour and bloodshed of a revolution that near wiped out a dynasty and destroyed a country.

A moment passed, before Cata swallowed thickly. She glanced at the ring on Trism's finger, the mate to the one Elphaba wore. Her mind flashed back to the master suite in the Winter Palace, when she was chosen by Melena to be her children's companion and her confidante. A simple gold band, a strand of black pearls and emeralds, a jewel-encrusted hair comb shaped like a butterfly, being placed within mahogany locks...

"Sophelia, Oziandra, come here my darlings. There is someone I want you to meet."

Two little girls, one not much older than her, and the other her age, in white dresses, black hair held back by white ribbons. And the Samrãjñī, Empress of All Fliaan, round with her third child, smiling down at her. "Girls, this is Cata. She is to be your new companion. Say hello."

She swallowed, the memory fading with the steam from the coffee. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, meeting Trism's blue one. It was evident the strain the young man was under, and not for the first time did she wonder if telling him the truth of her past, of the connection to his wife, was a good idea. Would it drive him to madness? Make him hate her, and cast her out? Was she to once more be separated from the only family she knew, the only family she had so desperately searched for for so many years? She feared his reaction, and vowed to pack and leave the moment she was done with her tale. She would not stay to view his reaction, and though it would near kill her to leave Elphaba, she would, for she would not stay if she were not welcome.

"There was a time, Your Majesty, not very long ago," She swallowed, glancing back at the steam wafting up from her mug before turning her gaze back to his. "A time when you lived in a world- an enchanted world, filled with elegant palaces and grand parties; a world untouched by the poverty and hardship beyond the palace doors. And while your parents ruled the Vinkus, while your father, rest his soul, kept the peace within your country, my country was not so lucky."

Trism swallowed thickly at the mention of his father, for even all these years after Traper's assassination, he still felt the sting of such a loss. Cata smiled weakly.

"It was nineteen-hundred-and-eighteen, and Frexpar II was Samraat of All Imperial Fliaan. You know the love story that shaped the dynasty- Frexpar II and Melena, the love that ended an empire, a love that weakened a government and allowed a mystic to take control behind the scenes. You grew up in that same circle, you saw the elegant excess and... disturbing wealth the Thropps and the other Fliaanian aristocracy lived within," Trism nodded; he had often thought, during the visits his family made to Fliaan, that the amount of wealth the royals lived within was disturbing- especially compared to the modest wealth the Tiggelaars and their court lived in.

It had been why the Vinkus had thrived for so long- Traper and Locasta had believed in putting much of the wealth in the betterment of the country as opposed to their court- which is why his first visit to the Thropps had startled him so- as well as disgusted his parents. Not Frexpar and Melena, so much, for they made sure their family lived very modest means despite their status, but the others of the court.

"Fabala's always said that her father made sure that they lived as much like the people as possible, despite their royal blood. 'If it was good enough for the people of Fliaan, it was good enough for the royal family,' I think is what she said Frexpar used to say. My family has always lived by modest means; my parents made sure the wealth of the monarchy went to bettering the Vinkus; it was for all her people, not just us. And Fabala and I- we've tried to do the same, tried to instill the same mindset into the children- if it's good enough for our people, then it's sure as hell good enough for us. Why should we have so much when there are so many who have so little? It's not right. We're trying to fix it."

Cata smiled softly; despite his youth, Trism understood the value of his people, of putting his people before his family, something Frexpar and Melena could never grasp. "There were five children born to the wealth and elegance of Imperial Fliaan, and there was one child, born to the lower classes, who's mother died when she was young, and who was plucked from the kitchens of the imperial palace, chosen by the Empress herself, to be the companion to her daughters- both born, and not yet born."

She could see the wheels turning in Trism's head as he slowly began to connect the pieces together. His blue eyes widened in surprise, and he inhaled sharply. "Wait-"

Cata nodded. "Your wife and I come from two very different classes, Your Majesty. I was born to a scullery maid and raised in the kitchens of the Winter Palace; she was born to the Empress of All Fliaan, and raised in the marble, hardwood and silk living quarters of the royal family." She swallowed, licking her lips nervously. "At a very young age, I became the companion to Kauris Sophelia and Oziandra, and after your wife was born, I became her companion too, and Nessarose's after she was born. At six years of age, I was returned to the kitchens after my mother died and made to earn my keep, but Her Majesty, rest her soul, asked that I become her confidante. I was her favourite. I waited on her the most."

"You were a lady-in-waiting?"

She shook her head. "I was a scullery maid who had favour with the most powerful woman in all of Oz. An orphan, left to fend for herself among the steam and heat of the palace kitchens, a guttersnipe treated better than most because I had gained the Empress's favour. And though I continued to work in the kitchens throughout my youth, I was still the girls' companion, still the confidante to the empress- though not as much as Countess Upland."

Trism nodded, knowing that she spoke of Glinda's mother, Melena's trusted companion and best friend. "Melena trusted you, more than Glinda's mother."

"Perhaps." Cata replied, sipping her coffee. "She certainly trusted me more when it came to matters of the children, especially Kauris Elphaba and Nessarose. Despite their high status, I had found a family, where previously, I had had none."