Rejection: Do not Miriena

A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.

Six Weeks Later

She was slowly assimilating into the Arjiki tribe. She refused to give up the dress she'd be stolen in, for it was the last thing Mama had sewn for her- a gift for her thirteenth birthday. Nor did she get rid of the boots- scuffed and worn though they were, she had worn them for years and refused to let them go, for some of her happiest memories of her family were made in those boots. She also kept the blue ribbons that had been around her braids that day- they had been Nessa's and she had borrowed them; they now held the last memories of her little sister. The things from her old life were tucked within a bag she kept in the back of the tent she shared with Fiyero.

Slowly, she had picked up the language and the customs of the Arjiki. In six weeks' time, she had slowly grown accustomed to their ways and their way of life. She still fumbled over the language and the customs, but Fiyero was always willing to help her.

She gently pushed the flap of the tent opening aside, peeking out. A bonfire was started and there was dancing and chatter, for it was a momentous occasion. That afternoon, in an hours' time, she would receive her tattoos. The Arjiki was the only tribe to tattoo diamonds upon their skin; the more diamonds, the higher the status of the person. And because she was the Crown Princess, married to the Crown Prince, her tattoos would be numerous. Fiyero himself had twenty or more, in the pattern of a starburst upon his chest, in varying sizes. The dark blue reminded her of the sapphires she had seen in books- a beautiful, deep, dark blue. She had grown accustomed to studying them at night when they lay in bed. She often lost count of how many diamonds he possessed.

"Elphaba."

She gasped softly, pulling back, surprised to find her husband on the other side of the tent flap, watching her. A moment passed, before she relaxed, and he smiled softly at her before entering the tent. She met his gaze. "Marito, è tempo?" He nodded, and she swallowed nervously, before slowly slipping out of her buckskin dress. It pooled at her feet, and she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly conscious of how she looked, left in nothing but her creamy, milky skin. She quickly accepted the blanket he wrapped around her shoulders, holding it close, before taking his hand and following him out to the bonfire.

Instantly, others in the tribe stopped what they were doing and turned. Only the shaman continued his work, laying out the carved bowls of ink and bone needles. A set of blankets lay before him, and she slowly knelt upon it, suddenly nervous. On instinct, she reached up, taking Fiyero's hand. He squeezed her hand softly, "Moglie, sarà bene."

She nodded, trusting his words. He's right. It'll be okay. He's had these done before. They all have. She met the old shaman's eye, and he nodded. Slowly, she lay upon her stomach, for her diamonds would be upon her back. They would trail over her shoulders and down her back in a waterfall design, taking up her shoulders and then moving down her back to her buttocks. As the Crown princess, hers would be slightly different- they would be green instead of blue, signifying her acceptance into the tribe around the time of new beginnings.

Still holding onto Fiyero's hand, she winced upon the feel of the first needle breaking into her skin, and she whimpered softly. It was a long, tedious process, these tattoos, but eventually, the pain evened out, and she got used to the sensation. The rest of the tribe watched in silence as the shaman continued to add the diamonds, turning her milky white skin a shade of green and a shade of red as the blood bubbled up with each prick. Eventually, the shaman finished and fully wiped the blood away, before applying a salve to hasten healing.

She looked up at Fiyero, dark eyes filled with tears. Is it done? She swallowed softly. "Marito, è fatto?" He nodded, helping her up. She pulled the blanket closer, but the shaman stopped her, allowing the rest of the tribe to see the diamonds that now flowed down her back like water.

"Arjiki la nostra principessa." She turned to Fiyero, who made his way towards her, gently draping the other blanket around her shoulders. He then gently cradled her face in his hands, meeting her gaze.

"Mia principessa." It was soft, so only she could hear, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips. He kissed her softly, to cheers and excited chatter among the tribe, for this was the day that she officially became one of them. And though it was joyous occasion, she couldn't help wondering what had happened to her family, if they had survived and made it to Munch, and if they were still looking for her.

Silently, he took her hand and led her back to their tent, where she could get changed. Feasting, dance and music would continue long into the night, but for now, she and Fiyero would spend a little time together. As he gently helped her back into her dress, being gentle of the fresh diamonds on her back, she let her mind wander, back to a time when she had been the oldest child of a family who had had big dreams of owning their own land in a new country and starting fresh.

Do they still look for me? How is Mama coping? And Nessa and Shell? And Papa? Have they made it to Munch, and built a house on the land they bought? Is there a space for me, when I return? Or have they completely forgotten about me by now? Six weeks have gone by, have they given up on finding me?

"Elphaba? Solle vostra mente?" She turned to meet his gaze.

What's on my mind? How do I tell him about my family? That I'm afraid they've forgotten me? She bit her lip, before giving him a soft smile in return. "Marito, niente." He studied her for several minutes, recognizing that while she said nothing, that it was so far from the truth.