Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia
The great bonfire crackled and popped, sending sparks dancing into the night sky. Children raced around, food was eaten and shared, the steady beating of the drums brought the men dancing. She laughed, joining in the celebration, watching as her brothers joined in the dancing. Irji was tall, like their father, and slender, and cut a fine figure; he was proving himself to be a good warrior, despite his seventeen moons, and though their mother still referred to him as her first babe.
And Nor supposed she was right; for Irji had been in the world little under a year when she had come along from her mother's womb. Nor's earliest memories were of her brother, telling her stories and playing with her, protecting her as older brothers should. Her gaze wandered to Manek, who was only a year younger than she. Her baby brother was, though almost as tall as Irji, and just as slender, much closer to their mother's personality. Unlike his brother, Manek was eager to learn everything he could; he'd even managed to talk their parents into letting him sit in on counsel on occasion- even though Irji would be the one to become Chief someday, after their father passed into the next world.
But Elphaba always said that Manek would make a fine counselman, for he loved to debate and discuss, and often drove his siblings crazy with his constant questions, though their mother always responded, giving her youngest son a chance to discuss with someone. Not for the first time, did Nor wonder how she'd ended up sandwiched between two completely different brothers; not necessarily in looks, but in temperament. She loved her brothers, but did not understand how her mother could birth two boys with entire opposing personalities.
It was as though her father's personality had taken residence within Irji, and her mother's in Manek, for they appeared to mirrors of each parent, personality-wise. Oziandra seemed to be a mixture of both her parents in personality, though she, like Nor, looked near identical to Elphaba. Which left Nor herself. She did not entirely have one personality or another, or major aspects of both, like her sister. She half wondered if perhaps she possessed her own personality completely, and that when she was made within her mother's womb, her parents forgot to give her aspects of their own personalities. Not once did it cross her mind that she had once shared her mother's womb with another, or that the personality of her dying twin had passed onto her, as legend stated when one twin died in the womb.
She turned her attention from the dancing to scan the village, her gaze stopping briefly on her aunt and uncle. Tibbett had, like Elphaba, been stolen as a child and raised in the tribe- adopted by Sarima, the former medicine woman who had passed her work onto her son when Nor had turned ten moons, believing he was ready. Tibbett cared deeply for his adoptive mother, and still sought her advice for many things. Mulhama, her mother's younger sister, had run away to join the Arjiki thirteen years earlier after her mother had been captured and brought back to white society. She had married Tibbett, becoming the medicine man's bride and a strong medicine woman in her own right. Their son, Trism, had been conceived and born at the same time Oziandra had, the two cousins were exceptionally close. Mulhama and Tibbett had gone on to have two more children, Milla and Nikko, the youngest of which was born after Shell had found the tribe again.
Her gaze lit on Shell and Candle; the youngest of the three siblings, Shell had helped her mother return to the tribe, and had come back in search of them five years after he helped his sister return. He'd married Candle, a young Arjiki girl who had been as intrigued with him as he her, and they lived in the white world, though they often spent many days with the Arjiki. Candle had born two children back in seventy-two- Grimalkin and Greyling, or Malky and Grey as their cousins called them- and the two four-year-olds had captured not just their parents hearts, but their aunts and uncles as well. Though there always seemed to be a touch of unease in the family in regards to the children, and Nor could never figure out why.
"Nor!" She knelt to embrace both children as they rushed towards her, kissing each on the head. As she listened to them babble on in a mixture of English and Arjiki, her gaze moved in search of her parents. She found her father kissing her mother soundly on the mouth, even as she tried to push him into the dancing. Nor's first memories of such celebration centered around her father dancing; the beautiful lines and movements of his body as he joined the other dancers in the circle. As a small child of one or two moons, settled on her mother's hip, she'd had no idea that her father and mother were the Crown Prince and Princess, they were just her parents.
Elphaba laughed, throwing her head back as Fiyero proceeded to kiss the sleek curve of her throat, and she finally managed to push him away. "Yero! Vai a ballare, mio marito. Anche gli dei si fermano a guardare quando balli."
She kissed him one last time before he did as told, joining the dancers in the center. Elphaba caught her oldest daughter's eye, a blush coloring her cheeks. The dancing continued, the drums getting louder and stronger. After scuttling the twins off to find Oziandra, Nor sidled up to her mother. The beautiful, elaborate dress her mother wore made it even more apparent the white of her skin, though it didn't make her any less beautiful. She knew that at some point, her mother would join in the dancing with the other women- for a few of the women also danced; and at first, it had been strange, when Elphaba had first joined in, but over time, as her years with the Arjiki stretched on, it became common to see the white dancing with the tribe, and when she wasn't- oftentimes when she was heavily with child- it felt incomplete. The music and dancing soon stopped, and the men joined the others in the village, it was merely a moment before another song began, and the women broke the circle to dance.
Nor knew she had limited time to say what had been on her mind from that moment in the tent, when she'd discovered her mother's skin was not like theirs, and she reached out to grab her mother's hand. "Mama-"
Elphaba turned to her daughter, the blue green and white paint upon her face making her stand out all the more, and yet blend in at the same time. The beautiful beading upon her dress shone in the firelight, and after a moment, she squeezed her daughter's hand with a smile before hurrying to join the other women.