Rifiuto: Non Miriena

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

The horses were ready.

Regardless of what she thought, Shell was going with her- at least as far as she would allow him to. So when he looked up next, it was with the moon high in the sky, around eleven that evening, to find a young woman dressed as a squaw rushing from the house. His breath caught upon seeing his oldest sister in the clothing she'd worn that first day- the dress hugged her curves, the moccasins were soft on her feet, and her hair, in two thick braids down her back, adorned with feathers, rope and beads, looked truly beautiful.

She took the reigns of the rose grey, her beloved Corvo, and climbed atop. He climbed atop his own horse. "I'm coming with you, Fae. I'll go as far as you'll allow me, I won't let you go alone. It wouldn't feel right if I did."

Silence fell, as she drank in the tone, and nodded, before nickering softly and urging the horse on. In the darkness of the night, the siblings spurred off, the light of the moon to guide them.

They rode for hours, following the river, sticking close together in the darkness, stopping to rest only on occasion. At one point, Shell turned to watch his sister; she seemed so confident atop a horse. Had her husband taught her to ride? What else had he taught her to do? Hunt? Fish? Tibbett had told them that women were worshiped in the tribe because they were seen as living embodiment of the Great Mother. And his sister had birthed three children- he could see the curves left from her children, noticed how the braids shortened her hair by inches, and the way the feathers blew in the breeze, giving her an almost ethereal look.

She met his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips, and after a moment, she leaned down, lying against the horse's mane, urging the beautiful grey faster. The feathers in the horse's mane rustled in the wind, and it went faster, as though sensing the urgency. Slowly, Shell copied her, glancing at his sister before turning his focus back to the task.

Eventually, they stopped along the river's edge for water and to rest briefly. As they disembarked, Shell took a deep breath.

She nodded, understanding the question in his voice, if not all the words, as she slid off the horse and moved to the riverbank. The boy watched his sister's movements, the fluidness of them upon the earth, the ease with which her hips swayed and rolled as she walked. He watched as she knelt by the bank, reaching out and cupping her hands as she dipped them into the water. After a moment, he joined her, kneeling beside her, watching as she drank. She stopped however, looking at him over her fingers. He opened his mouth, but stopped, blushing. She lowered her hands, holding them out. His gaze darted to them, confused. "I-"

A moment passed as she rolled her eyes, and for the briefest of periods, Shell caught a glimpse of the teenager she'd been before she'd been captured that day in the grasslands. Reaching out, she took his hands, shaping them into a cup, and then dipping them into the water. She then lifted them towards his face, and after a moment's hesitation, he drank.

Though Papa had always told them to follow the river if they ever got lost, the Thropp children had no real survival skills to actually survive in the wild. But Elphaba, having grown up these last seven years in the tribe, had learned how to survive, for the Arjiki did it every day. They lived off the land, hunting and gathering and fishing; and Elphaba, being the Crown Princess, had probably learned at least basic hunting and fishing skills from her husband. That she was now teaching her little brother with the very basic of basics- how to drink from a river- showed just how sheltered the Thropp children were and had been all their lives.

They sat upon the bank for several minutes, catching their breath. It was still dark out, not yet one in the morning; they had been riding most of the night. If they rested now and left before dawn, they would reach the camp by morning.

Not for the first time since they'd taken off, did Shell wonder how their parents would take it to discover their children gone- both their daughters now gone forever. He knew that Mama would not take it well at all; Papa... Shell had the sneaky suspicion that Papa had been slowly starting to accept that his oldest daughter was Arjiki, that she'd married an Arjiki and had babies with him. He sighed. He would miss her, he knew he would, but that was to be expected. It didn't mean he loved her any less. She was still his sister, and he would always love her, as he would always love Nessa.

He glanced out at the water. "Are we going the right way?"

She nodded. "Il fiume."

His brow furrowed as he looked at her. "What?"

"Il fiume. Il fiume ricondurrà alla mia tribù."

He turned back to the water, putting her words and gestures together. "The river? We follow the river?" She nodded. "The river will take us back to your tribe?" Another nod, eagerly this time. "I... il... fi... fiu...me. Il fiume." He turned to her, and she smiled at him. After a moment, she got up, going back to the horse and climbing atop it. He followed, climbing onto his own. So it was only two words, but they were two words in her tongue that he could now say, and to see her smile- a smile he hadn't seen in seven years- was huge.

She as starting to come back, little by little.