Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia
She let her gaze wander about the cabin.
So this was the white man's home. There were no animals skins or bedrolls tucked away, no small fire within the stone circle of a heart, no woven baskets of which clothing was kept in. She had no desire to learn what each object was within the two rooms, nor where the stairs led to- four bedrooms, one for the man who called himself her 'father' and his wife, one for the girl and one for the boy, and another, which was possibly meant for her. A fire burned in the fireplace, despite the spring weather, a cast iron pot hanging over the flames. The strong scent of something met her nose, and she wrinkled it.
"Come sit, please."
She turned to the older woman, who beckoned her to follow. She watched the woman make her way towards the Quoxwood table, where the boy and girl were seated, watching her. A moment passed, before she felt a presence behind her and turned; Tibbett rested a hand on her shoulder. "Lei desidera per voi di unirsi a loro."
Join them? She shook her head. She would not join them. She would not sit and break bread with this white man and his family, not when his savage people had stolen her away from her husband, her children, her tribe, the only home she had ever known. She shook her head again, crossing her arms. No, she would not join them. Nor would she return to them, as they apparently so desperately wished.
"Please, Elia." Her gaze moved up, locking with the girl's. She looked to be no older than seventeen, with her dark hair down her back in two thick braids. She wore a dress of blue paisley print, and a pair of scuffed black boots. Were it not for the buckskin she herself wore, they could have been sisters.
Don't you remember me? It's Nessa. She's my sister!
According to the white man, they were sisters.
She let her gaze wander over the girl once more, drinking in the print of the dress. It seemed... oddly familiar, but she couldn't place it.
Faded blue paisley print, turning to ash within the flames of the bonfire.
"Elphaba." Her head lifted. "Please, Elphaba." The girl corrected softly. "Come sit. Eat." She glanced at Tibbett. "Both of you."
A moment passed, before Tibbett moved to follow the girl, glancing back at her. "Una settimana, Elphaba. Una settimana, e poi si può andare a casa." Her gaze never left his, and it was clear, the question in her eyes.
Do you promise?
He nodded once, before turning back. Taking a deep breath, she slowly followed, glancing at the strange wooden table and chairs. She watched the others take seats, before slowly doing the same. Without a word, the older woman filled a bowl with stew from the pot, and handed them out. Seated next to Tibbett, she watched him, slowly imitating him; Nessa and Shell watched her, fascinated. This young woman, who had spent the first fourteen or so years of her life with them before being captured, had once had perfect table manners, and now, due to her time with the savages, could not remember how to use something as simple as a spoon. Melena, for her part, was simply relieved to have her daughter back. Though she could not wrap her mind around the fact that they were only allowed a week with her.
Once the meal was eaten and the dishes cleared away, the girl, Nessa, led her up the stairs; four rooms were at the top, the bedrooms. They moved down the short hallway, Nessa glancing back at the older girl every so often. Eventually, they came to a door at the end of the hall, and Nessa pushed it open, stepping back so she could step inside. "This is your room, Elia- sorry, Elphaba. Papa added and furnished it when he built the house, and Mama and I decorated it so that it would be ready for you when you finally returned... home... to us."
Slowly, she entered, taking in the simple bed with the patchwork quilt, the small nightstand, dresser and desk and wash basin, the window with the checkered curtains. It was... quaint... fit for a girl in the white man's world. But not her. Her gaze drifted to the bed. It was raised slightly off the ground, unlike the Arjiki, who slept on bedrolls and animal hides and woven blankets, who slept near fires within stone pits that kept their tents warm. She turned her gaze away, the sudden realization that for at least the next week- if the whites kept their word- she would be alone, without the comfort of her husband's arms around her, the reassurance that her children were not far away, but across the flames of the small fire in their tent, content in sleep.
The other girl's gaze went to the window. Darkness had quickly fallen, as it did so often in the spring here, and after a moment, she moved around her sister, going to the dresser. Elphaba watched as she opened one of the drawers and pulled out a dress made of cotton fabric- a nightgown. The girl held it out to her, and she stared at it, drinking in the long sleeves, high neck and long skirt, so different from the buckskin she often wore to bed.
"Here, let me help you." When she didn't reach out and take it, the girl gathered it, holding it out to her. Was this young girl insane? She expected her to just strip from her dress and accept that... strange article of clothing to wear? A moment passed, before the girl lowered her arms. "Don't you understand? Don't you remember? Elia, it's a nightgown. We wear these to bed-" Her eyes widened. "Oh!" She blushed, cheeks coloring pink. "You must not... have worn anything to bed when you lived with the savages, did you?"
Dark eyes narrowed. Though she did not understand their language, she understood the word 'savage' and what it meant in their world. And that they did not see themselves as the savages.
"I... I'm sorry, Elia, I... I didn't mean... I just... I was just..." Nessa stopped; though Tibbett had made it clear she went by a different name, it was hard to keep herself from using the name she knew her sister by. She sighed. "Please?"
After a moment- and realizing that the sooner she undressed, the sooner sleep could claim her and the sooner the week would be up and she could return to her tribe- Elphaba slowly undressed, slipping out of the buckskin dress she wore. The younger girl blushed, to see her sister's blatant nudity, but she watched anyway as the older girl turned, folding up her dress neatly and placing it upon the nightstand. Her eyes widened, and she gasped softly.
There, cascading from her older sister's shoulders to her buttocks like a waterfall, were hundreds of emerald green diamonds, of all sizes, tattooed within her creamy, milky skin.