Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia
She fought him, with as much strength as she could muster, but she was tired and heartbroken and wanted nothing more than to sleep. So she didn't understand why he'd grabbed her from her horse; she was banished from her tribe, the only home she truly had, so why was he there? What was the goal of pulling her from her horse, unless it was to hurt her even more?
"Fabala!" He turned her to face him, reaching up to take her face in his hands.
"No! Lasciami andare! Lasciami andare!" She found enough strength to try and shove him away, only to succeed in backing up and stumbling into the river. Caught in its current, she didn't resist as it dragged her downstream; instead, she waited for death, hoping it would be quick and painless.
It wasn't.
It never came.
Because Fiyero followed the river, keeping an eye on her; until she got to the area near the alcove and the giant stones within that slowed the rushing water down. Once able, he hurried to her, pulling her from the water and carrying her back to the embankment, fear filling every fiber of his being. "Fabala?" Sarima's words rang loud in her head, and he pressed his ear to her chest, finding a heartbeat. "Fabala!" Quickly and expertly, he worked on her, opening her mouth and swiping his fingers down her throat, in effort to get her to cough. Seconds passed by, before finally she choked; he pulled his fingers away, and she slowly struggled to rise, coughing up river water as she did so. He laid a hand against her head, thanking Death for not taking her from him.
"Y... ero?" She turned, to see him sitting beside her. Fear filled his gaze, and after a moment, he reached for her, but she pushed him away, not wanting his touch. It stung, for she had never rejected his touch, not in the seven years they'd been married, not in all the days and nights they'd made love. Not once, had she ever pushed him away; she'd always accepted willingly, body and soul.
But her soul is fractured, a part of her has died, because of her captivity. And you... by banishing her, you killed the rest of her. No wonder she didn't fight when she hit the water.
Silence settled between them, as she finally gathered her legs beneath her, reaching up and wringing the water out of her braids. She glanced down at the dress, her favorite buckskin, and swallowed hard. She was no longer Arjiki, she had no right to these clothes, or even her name-
"Mi dispiace." She looked up, meeting his gaze. "Mi dispiace, Elphaba. Non avrei dovuto comportarmi come ho fatto io. Non avevo il diritto; Ho sofferto il mio dolore e il mio dolore per la persona più importante della mia vita. Mi sbagliavo."
"Mi hai bandito, Yero." Her voice shook as she spoke. "Mi ha esiliato da casa mia, dalla mia tribù, dai miei figli. Mio marito. La mia stessa vita. Non so nient'altro, ma la nostra tribù... la tua tribù." She corrected, choking on a sob. He winced, hearing the pain in her voice, and then reached for her.
"La nostra tribù, Fabala. È la nostra tribù-"
She pulled away, shaking her head. "Come posso fidarmi di te? Mi hai bandito! Me! La madre dei tuoi figli! Ho portato ognuna delle tue ragazze! Mi sono gonfiato molto con ogni bambino, ho attraversato il dolore agonizzante di spingerli nel mondo, e tu mi bandisci! Tu mi bandisci!" She shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. He tried to cut in, but she stopped him."E tutto perché papà è morto e io non ero qui. Perché non sapevo che sarebbe passato di qui se non fossi rimasto. Eppure lei sostiene che sia colpa mia. Come posso fidarmi di te dopo? Come posso fidarmi delle parole che parli, quando le hai usate contro di me?"
He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into him as he spoke. "Allora fidati delle mie azioni, Fabala. Fidati che quello che faccio è dall'amore. Si prega."
She shook her head. "Come posso, quando le tue azioni fanno male tanto quanto le tue parole?"
His blue gaze found hers, and his voice was soft as he spoke next. "Allora fidati del mio bacio, Fabala, perché il mio bacio non ti ha mai mentito. Ricordare? Ogni bacio che ho condiviso con te è sempre stato la verità. Fidati del mio bacio."
And before she could protest, he did just that, and kissed her full on the mouth.
Her mouth exploded with the taste of him- the fires of their tent, fresh picked berries and dried meat, the crispness of the air within the grasslands, and something she knew to be distinctly her husband, but that she could never name. His tongue filled her mouth, sliding gently against hers, in that all too familiar dance. One hand slid up her back, brushing along the back of her neck, and she shivered slightly. He tightened his hold on her waist, until she was flush against him, her hips sliding against his, her body brushing against him. He grunted softly, and she moaned in response, sliding an arm around his neck and pushing herself up.
They managed to shift until she was sitting in his lap, her legs straddling him, the skirt of her dress hiked up around her thighs, her most sensitive of areas brushing against him. The movement aroused them both, but neither broke the kiss. She wrapped an arm around his neck, rising slightly out of his lap, and he let one hand trail down her side, caressing her hip briefly before dancing over her thigh to slip beneath her dress.
He gently scraped his teeth along her lower lip, meeting her gaze, silently asking permission to do what he wished beneath her skirt, and she nodded, capturing his mouth again. His fingers danced along the black curls above her opening, before finding the small bundle within her folds and rolling it in the fingers. She began to squirm in pleasure, and he smiled softly against her mouth. Once more, he repeated the gesture, and she groaned within the kiss, arching her back and lifting her hips slightly. Seeing this as his opportunity, he slipped first one finger into her, and then a second; they'd had plenty of experience in this area of intercourse over the seven years they'd been married, and after a moment, he slid another finger into her, managing to hit the right spot.
She groaned in pleasure; it had been a week since she'd felt such sensations, and she knew she wouldn't be able to control herself. When it came to intercourse, they were both insatiable at times, often, going six or seven times in a single night or day, before each of the children had come along. As they'd grown older, both had found that the witnessing the other's orgasm often made their own that much more pleasurable. As she tightened around his fingers, her mind went back to his words.
Trust my kiss. My kiss has never lied to you. Every kiss I've ever shared with you has always been the truth.
She came hard and fast, breaking the kiss as the a moan of pleasure escaped her throat and she threw her head back, exposing the clean lines of her throat. The juices within her coated his fingers, and as he slowly pulled them out of her, she met his gaze; the sight of his fingers covered in her juices, only arousing her even more. Her lips crashed onto his, managed to catch her, even though he lost his balance, crashing onto the earth beneath him as his wife proceeded to drink to the very depths of his soul.
He was right, she knew. Every kiss- as well as every pleasurable moment joined together- spoke infinitely more volumes of the truth than any words ever could.