Rifiuto: Non Miriena

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

One week.

They only had one week with their daughter, and if they didn't release her after, she would ask that they be killed...

What kind of people had she lived around, that she would ask for such a thing and have it possibly carried out? Tibbett's words rang loud in his head.

You do not steal from the Arjiki.

But how could it be stealing if the scouts had simply taken back what was rightfully the family's? They had merely retrieved her from her captivity and could help her to re-assimilate back into civilized society. How was that stealing? If anything, what the Arjiki had done to them was stealing. Forcing her to live with them, marry one of them, have children, forget her native tongue...

That was stealing. The Arjiki had stolen their daughter from them and in return, they'd gotten back a stranger.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She sat beside him on the front seat of the cart, though she'd put as much distance as she could between them. Tibbett rode on a horse beside them, for Frexpar had asked him to come along to translate.

Finally, after several hours, they reached the cabin; Nessa and Shell stood on the small porch, eagerly awaiting the return of the sister they'd lost seven years ago. At the sound of the horses, Melena joined them, watching in silence as Frexpar called the horses to stop and got down. He reached up to help the young woman beside him down, but she pulled away, refusing to move before Tibbett nodded that it was okay.

"Frexpar? Where is she? Where's Sophelia?" Her husband sighed as he made his way towards them, turning back to the young woman.

"That is Sophelia, Melena. They found her living among a tribe of savages."

Nessa cried out in shock, covering her mouth. To read it in the newspapers was one thing, but to actually hear it from her father's lips was another thing entirely. She turned her gaze back to the girl still sitting on the cart, and then got off the porch, moving closer to get a better look. The girl watched her with caution in her eyes. She certainly looked like her older sister, with the same dark eyes and long black hair pulled back in two thick braids down her back. But she wore an animal skin dress and moccasins, and wore a look of distrust on her pretty features. "S... Sophelia? Is it really you?"

The girl turned to the translator, who simply shook his head. She turned back to the girl, studying her silently. "Elphaba."

"What?"

"She goes by what the Arjiki call her. Her name is Elphaba." Nessa turned to the man, who she now realized was a translator.

"Can't she tell me that herself?"

Tibbett glanced at Elphaba, who lifted her chin, crossing her arms in defiance. "She does not speak your language. She only speaks the language of the Arjiki. She does not know your words or customs. Or your," He glanced at Elphaba again. "savage way of life."

"Savage?" Nessa's mouth dropped open. "We're not savage! The savages are the ones who stole her from us seven years ago!"

"The Scrow stole her away; the Arjiki gave her a home, just as they gave me a home when I was a child, much younger than her. You call us savage, but we live a peaceful life."

"Then why are you not still with them?" Nessa demanded, hands on her small hips. Tibbett's eyes filled with sadness.

"I was captured in a raid and brought back to 'society' and forced to re-assimilate. Now I try to bridge the gap between my two worlds." He turned to Elphaba and spoke rapidly to her, even as Melena's voice broke through the quiet of the prairie.

"A week!" Nessa turned back to the porch, but Tibbett's voice caused her to return her attention to them.

"She shall stay a week in your world with you, and then she shall be returned to the Arjiki, to her husband and children. If this deal is not kept, she will have you and your family killed, for you have stolen from the Arjiki, and you do not steal from them. Especially not their Crown Princess."

"What? You can't do that!"

"Those are the terms."

"That's not fair, she's my sister!"

Tibbett said something to Elphaba, who shook her head, responding softly. "She has no sister."

Tears began to fill Nessa's eyes, and she turned to the older girl. "Elia, don't you remember me? It's Nessa. We used to play together all the time, remember?"

The girl shook her head at Tibbett's translation, and before she could respond, Shell rushed down to join them, arms out wide. He hadn't been listening to his parents' conversation; instead, he'd been focused on his sisters' conversation. "Elia! You're finally home!"

But Nessa grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could reach up and attempt to hug the older girl. "She doesn't remember us, Shell."

"What? That's silly, Nessa! Of course Elia remembers us!" But she tightened her hold on her little brother's arm, shaking her head. He turned to the older girl, taking a deep breath. "Elia?" The girl didn't respond.

"She goes by a different name, Shell." Nessa whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"What is it?"

"El... Elphaba."

The boy turned back to the older girl, letting the name sink in. "Eli... Elphaba?" Slowly, the older girl turned her attention to the teenager. She spoke rapidly in a language Shell didn't understand, and the man on the horse nodded.

"She says that you remind her of her sons, and that she wishes she were back with them instead of here. She wishes that you had never found her."

"Sons?" Everyone turned as Melena and Frexpar joined them. A soft cry escaped Melena's throat as she laid eyes on her oldest daughter. Tibbett nodded, saying something to Elphaba, who nodded once.

"She has two sons and a daughter-"

Three babes. My daughter is barely nineteen and she has already given birth to three babes.

"Mama?" She snapped out of her thoughts, turning to Shell.

"Yes, well, please, come in, both of you. You both must be starving." And then she turned on her heel and trekked back to the house.