A/N: Congratulations to LillyFae and Elphieispopular for noticing my little plot hint and, for being my most faithful reviewers. But alas the issue of the adepts will have to wait. There is a small boy who needs attending to first.

I'm the Witch 6

"Are you hungry?" Elphaba asked Liir. She'd found him standing on the bench in the kitchen trying to reach the biscuit jar she kept on the top shelf. He'd sat down rather hurriedly when she'd made her presence known. The expression on his face clearly indicated he was expecting a reprimand and, a harsh one at that. That might have been the case if the Witch had happened upon him. As it was, it was a distracted Elphaba who had come looking for the boy. Upon finding him, she'd been unsure how to proceed and figured feeding the child was a good place to start.

"Yes please." Liir himself wasn't quite sure what to make of the woman before him, currently trying to pull together a meal of some description. He'd been shocked he hadn't been thrown from the kitchen by his ear when she'd come in. Something was off, he decided. She was distracted. It probably had something to do with whatever she'd been doing with the Animals or the conversation with that other Witch, who was decidedly unnerving. Not that he didn't like Elphaba being nice to him, he did, it was just new. She'd never been cruel, just not overtly nice.

"You had an interesting conversation with Jayla. So have I, in fact." She really wasn't very good at this. Apparently Liir thought so too, based on his raised eyebrow. Oz, where had he picked that up? Her, obviously, she did it all the time. She was leaning back against the bench tapping her fingers in irritation. Less at the boy than at her incompetence at handling the situation. Ineptitude seemed to be a recurring theme in her life, she thought bitterly.

"Same topic?" He knew it had to have been, or else she wouldn't be here looking more jittery than a Munchkin who'd heard her name. Just because he knew what the conversation had been about didn't make him any less worried about what her reaction would be. Particularly when she had a violent history if she felt threatened or overly agitated. He suspected both of those descriptors were relevant to her right now. Then again, she had been making him a meal, it couldn't be that bad. And it didn't look like she was about to boil him to be a part of that meal.

"No, we were discussing the fine art of cross-stitch." Sarcasm, the refuge of the desperate and the afraid. Liir apparently didn't think much of her response either because there was that damned eyebrow again. The cynicism he was displaying was not becoming in a boy as young and naïve as he was. Sure she might have been the exact same at his age, but there was a difference. She sighed and his eyebrow dropped.

"Mum?" If she hadn't been listening for some sort of response, Elphaba wouldn't have heard his name for her. All she could do was blink in response. No prior experience had she to draw upon for guidance in this completely unfamiliar situation. Rushing over to him in an extravagant display of affection didn't quite seem appropriate, nor was it in her character. Something needed to be done, some form of response.

Liir was equally as confused as to what came next. Admittedly, he was quite glad to still be alive to consider what would transpire in the next few minutes. There had been a good chance his word would have simply triggered the Witch to return and make good on one of her boiling threats. He wondered if this newfound relationship would mean those threats would stop. Not likely, he thought, they were a misguided attempt at affection. Probably too inefficient a method if she really had any inclination to dispose of him. Elphaba inhaled deeply and he returned his attention to her.

"Son. You deserve knowledge of your parentage and an explanation for my behaviour. In return, you can stop calling me Auntie Witch. That title belongs to Jayla now. I'll explain that to you too."

"Fiyero is my father isn't he? Manek, Irji and Nor were my half-siblings." Liir stated matter-of-factly. Elphaba wasn't surprised, she'd thought he was Fiyero's son. Linking herself into the equation had been the problem. Her only love often seemed like a dream now. A pleasant escape in what had become the hellish haze of her life. After all, what prince could love her? Liir was proof that Fiyero was more than just a dream.

"Yes. He and I had an affair when I was very young, though he was married to Sarima at the time. When he was killed, I had no idea I was pregnant. The loss of your father was… hard to take. I fell into a coma for the duration of my pregnancy and your birth. When I came out of it, you were a constant presence that was easier to ignore. Particularly considering my role in Fiyero's death, something for which I have never been able to atone." Elphaba broke off, choking back a sob. After all these years, talking of him was still hard.

"What made you realize? And how does Jayla figure into all of this?" The boy asked seeming to realize discussion of his father hurt his mother deeply. He was also fairly sure Jayla had provided the insight and so she provided a nice segue into areas less likely to be painful.

"I always knew, I think, I simply needed to acknowledge it. Jayla forced that. She doesn't really figure into your parentage, more of an aside. We believe ourselves to be sisters, thus making her your Aunt."

"It would explain both of your penchants for bright colours." Liir responded straight away. Immediately he wondered if he might regret taking that liberty in his phrase.

"Just because I'm your mother doesn't mean I won't boil you." The words were harsh, but she delivered them with something close to a smile. It didn't quite make it, but the attempt signified so much more between them than what had previously been there. Maybe, something like healing could come from this. For both of them.

"I'm going to go and thank Auntie Witch." Liir said suddenly. A young boy can only handle so much emotional upheaval. He made to bound off out the door.

"Liir," the boy turned to look at her, "I promise to do the best I can to make good for you."

As he left Elphaba prayed and desperately hoped with every fibre of her being that she would succeed. He was a chance, he was her son. She did not want to fail him as she had failed everyone else she had ever cared for. No, she corrected herself, loved. Elphaba loved her son. And by Oz, she hoped that didn't mean she would lose him. As it had with everyone else.

A/N: I realized I have been hopeless with disclaimers, so there is one on my profile now if you can be bothered.