Okay, here is the second part of the beginning. There should only be one more chapter of this and then it will go on to Lena's life. Considering that 1. I already have an idea where the next chapter will go and 2. I should have a bit of free time this week, the next chapter should be up soon. :)

As Liir drew closer to the outline of the mauntery on the horizon, he became vaguely aware of a sharp pain in his left palm. Glancing down, he realized that his fingers were clenched about the broom tightly, and his fingernails were lacerating his skin. He released his pressure on the broom, but did not avert his gaze from it. He thought of the day he had left the mauntery for the first time, and the way that Elphaba had clutched the broom defiantly.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't carry the broom with him any longer—that somehow, by returning the broom to its home, he would finally confront and acknowledge Elphaba's death. Somehow she had just seemed above human emotion. It was inconceivable to him that she would do something so vulnerable, so human, as to die. He remembered, suddenly, the view of Elphaba and Fiyero through the glass in her tower room, and dismissed his ideas as ludicrous. Elphaba had been merely human after all. At least once.

When he reached the gates of the mauntery, he paused. Though the sun was beating rather warmly down upon him, and there were birds singing quietly from the parapet, he felt distantly frightened.

The fear was faint—the shadow of an emotion felt so strongly before that it still hung in the air like a lingering fog. Each of his arrivals and departures from the Cloister of Saint Glinda had been filled with uncertainty. It was only now, with this recollection of emotions, that he realized this. He had been so used to being unsure of himself that the presence of fear was not an acknowledged one in his life. And now the realization came to him that in recent years he must also have escaped his ambivalence. With this thought assuaging his heavy heart, he raised the broom handle shakily and rapped it against the gate.

After a few moments, a maunt hurried towards him, stumbling over her stocky feet. She flung open the gate unceremoniously and mumbled something indistinguishable that Liir could only assume to be a greeting. She rubbed the back of her hand across her bloodshot eyes—she had obviously been sleeping. He decided to use her drowsiness to his advantage rather than try to explain his presence.

Clutching the basket to his chest, he proceeded through the gates of the mauntery with an air of dignity. He began to stride down the hall swiftly, as though he had an important matter to attend to. The dazed maunt returned to her place in the watchtower, resting her head against the wall once more as she sank to the floor.

When Liir was certain he could no longer feel eyes upon his back, he slowed his walk, glancing over his shoulder. The courtyard was now empty. He let out a heavy breath, realizing only then that he had been holding it in. His heart was pounding painfully against his ribs. This time, instead of a recollection of fear, he felt the real thing. He could hear the faint lullabies of a domingon echoing throughout the deserted halls.

"She thought it was dead," he whispered to himself, unconsciously gripping the basket tighter, as though afraid he had been wrong all along. "She thought it wouldn't make it." But, she can read the present.

His fear was replaced instead with bitter anger—his timid walk became a forceful glide. He strode rather forcefully around a corner, nearly running headlong into a small figure clad in blue.

"I'm sorry, I- Lady Glinda?"

Glinda appeared to be just as surprised as he felt, but quickly slid a smile over her face like a mask. "Liir, how good to see you again!" Her eyes trailed from his head to the floor in a quick appraising motion, and she blinked rapidly a few times.

"Erm, I…" Oblivious to her despondency, he tried to develop an excuse for why he was there, having momentarily forgotten the true meaning of his visit.

"Liir, are you alright?"

At the slight nod of his head, she furrowed her brow. "What is it you have there?" She gestured towards the basket in his arms, her lips crinkled into a comforting smile.

Glancing down at the basket, he collected himself from his trance. "Lady Glinda, I…" Uncertainly, he paused, but when he failed to think of a better idea, he continued. "I need your help."

Glinda's eyes widened slightly at his words, and it took her a moment to realize he had lowered the basket in his arms. She dropped her eyes to the basket. For a moment, she could only stare down at the small bundle, transfixed.

"Meet Lena."

She tentatively reached a shaking hand towards the sleeping child, as though afraid the touch might burn her. Her fingertip came in contact with the soft green forehead before gently running the length of her cheek. "Oh, Liir. Is she yours?"

"Yes." He was surprised at how sure he was of his answer.

• • • • •

There was a faint knocking at the door that jerked her away from her thoughts. Agitated, she called to the door, "I am not to be disturbed during meditation." She closed her eyes again, convinced she had solved the problem. She was surprised when the door creaked open.

"Superior Maunt, there is… are some guests here you might want to see."

Annoyed, but curious nonetheless, she gestured for the guests to be shown in. The maunt swept back the door and Glinda entered, followed closely by Liir. Liir's appearance surprised, but did not shock, her. She was thoroughly nonplussed as to why his presence had resulted in the interruption of her afternoon routine. "Welcome. Have a seat."

Glinda, who appeared not to have heard her words, approached the Superior Maunt. "There is something- erm, one- that you must see." She turned her face towards Liir, who was lurking in the doorway, and glared at him. He approached tentatively, clutching a bundle to his chest. At Glinda's insistent looks, he lowered his arms.

"Sweet Oz," she said quietly, her hand trailing to her mouth, which had fallen open in surprise. In contrast to Liir's faintly tanned arms lay a green infant, peering quietly up at her through captivating gray eyes.

She tore her gaze from the child and looked towards the maunt that still lingered in the doorway. "Go fetch Candle."