Chapter 13
The next several days were a blur for Elphaba. Her sense of time was lost as she kept Nyalana's wounds clean, watched her breathing, and hoped. She hoped for something good, perhaps as some sort of compensation for the guilt she still felt over Frederick's death. Or maybe she just needed to know that she was capable of saving a life, rather than causing grief and pain.
Yet after countless sleepless nights, her ability to stay awake was waning, and she allowed her eyes to close after Nyalana's latest bandage change.
She was awakened some time later by a muffled voice. Elphaba startled and sat up abruptly, looking for someone, anyone. She realized that Nyalana was trying to speak.
Elphaba rose to her knees, and, unsure what to do, she listened.
"Fae?" The Winkie girl's voice was thin and strained, "Fae?"
"I'm here," Was Elphaba's awkward reply. The role of caregiver was as awkward now as it had been with Nessarose.
Nyalana mumbled a few other incoherent things, and fluttered her eyes a little. After several minutes, she opened them, and focused on Elphaba. She didn't speak, but her rich, brown eyes were full of meaning. As they slowly closed once again in sleep, Nyalana reached out and took Elphaba's hand and squeezed it tightly, like a lifeline.
Elphaba did not have the heart, or the lack of heart, to pull away.
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"Here," Elphaba offered a week or more hence. She placed a bowl of broth in front of Nyalana, and helped her sit. Using the cloak as padding, the Winkie girl leaned against the stone of the bridge.
"Thank you," Nyalana whispered, eating slowly, yet eagerly.
"You're hungry," Elphaba mused, "I suppose that means you will live." She had meant it merely to be factual, but Nyalana cracked a tiny smile. Elphaba couldn't help but turn up the corner of her mouth in return.
For a moment, the clink of the spoon against the bowl was the only sound. Then Elphaba spoke.
"If there was a battle, I hope there's someone out there who looks worse than you."
"Is that meant to be a compliment?" Nyalana questioned.
"I suppose. Although I don't know if I know you well enough to give out compliments," Elphaba answered.
"I don't think compliments require relationship. They're simply good observations."
Elphaba cocked one eyebrow in her customary fashion.
Nyalana set the bowl down for a moment. "I have a compliment for you. I can see that you are strong, maybe to a fault. And you care about people terribly more than you want to, sometimes."
The Winkie girl was alarmingly accurate.
"Well, I couldn't very well have let you die…" Elphaba trailed off, her explanation seeming weak. She shook off the moment and nearly ran over her own words with her next question.
"What happened?" She asked.
Nyalana closed her eyes for a moment, and then answered.
"They…the ARA…had a young Dog tied up just outside the seventh ward…a shepherd, and barely out of puppy hood. The agents were beating him for stepping outside the bounds of the seventh ward, yet it was entirely obvious he was too young to understand. I couldn't take it, and I charged them, hardly thinking that I had no weapon. I at least managed to free the Dog before they nearly impaled me. They left me for dead, and I mostly crawled here. Frederick, and now you, are the only people I know in the city…" She trailed off, as if she needed to explain why she'd come to the bridge.
Elphaba thought for a moment, and Nyalana resumed eating.
"It's horrible," Elphaba mused when she finally spoke, "the things we are capable of doing to one another. It's amazing any of us has survived at all."
The Winkie girl simply nodded in return.
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They existed like this as fall began to break summer's hold on the city. The heat began to ease, slightly, and Nyalana grew stronger. Elphaba had become quite the doctor, inspecting, bandaging and suturing as needed. They shared bits and pieces of themselves with each other, being careful not to reveal anything that would compromise them, should one of them be captured.
This day, the Winkie girl stood and walked gingerly around the small, cave-like area, testing her strength. She ran her finger through her braids, scratching at her scalp in irritation. She pulled at what remained of her dress, which was now wrapped, sarong-like, about her hips and breasts.
"I need to bathe," She commented flatly, having regained some sense of vanity with her healing.
Elphaba bristled at the mention of the word, cutting her eyes toward Nyalana as though she had a bucket of water poised and waiting for her.
"We could go together," Nyalana continued, "I know of a place that's empty after dark. There's a broken window. No one would see us."
"I cannot abide water," Elphaba stated with finality, not giving the idea a moment's consideration.
Nyalana simply stared at her for a moment, baffled. "What?"
"I cannot abide water," Elphaba repeated, growing annoyed.
"You cannot abide….? You're afraid of water?"
"I'm not afraid!" Elphaba snapped, whipping around and meeting the Winkie girl's eyes. "I cannot abide it. In any way…." She trailed off as she realized she had never explained it before. Eliana had simply known, and understood. Before that, it had been her secret, held close and guarded, lest she be thought of as even more strange.
Nyalana drew herself up to her full height, and met the green girl's eyes. She was tall, and she did not back down. Perhaps that was part of why Elphaba liked her.
"Are you saying to me…that you don't bathe?" Nyalana seemed both horrified, and terribly curious at the same.
"No," Elphaba answered, standing tall, dark, and green, and feeling every bit as exotic and awkward as she looked.
"Then how--" Nyalana started.
Elphaba quickly cut her off.
The Winkie girl was silent for a moment, until curiosity got the best of her.
"You know," She started, "there's not much harm in telling me. You saved my life, after all. And I'm a fugitive, if someone finds me alive. What harm could I do you?"
Elphaba considered, and the overwhelming need for companionship took over. Almost instinctively, she answered before she thought.
"Oil," She sputtered, "I use oil, if I can get it…" She trailed off, suddenly feeling ashamed. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Nyalana simply nodded, unfazed.
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Three days later, the Winkie girl disappeared. Elphaba awoke to find her gone, and was surprised at the way her heart constricted. She was continually shocked at the abuse the heart could take, and still continue to feel. Its resilience was both astounding, and perpetually frustrating. It was moments like this that she wished her emotions would die out, harden, and cease to torment her.
She spent the day pacing, mumbling to herself, and refusing Malky's attempts at comfort. She cursed the sun as it moved through the sky, if only in an attempt to fight back the tears that constricted her throat.
She was lost in her own self pity, picking at food and staring at the sunset when a voice nearly startled the very green out of her skin. She leapt to her feet and whirled around to find Nyalana.
"Where in Oz name have you been?!" Elphaba shrieked, her relief and surprise mixing to form a volatile emotion.
"I went to find—" Nyalana started, but Elphaba cut her off.
"I thought…I mean I've spent the whole day….I can't believe that you would just…." Elphaba's words were erratic, her emotions running higher than usual. She tugged at her hair in the discomfort at having to feel so much.
The Winkie girl seemed to understand, but she didn't reply. She simply pressed the bottle of oil she carried into one slender, green hand, and led her manic friend out into the night.
Elphaba protested at first, and insisted on getting her hat. But in her relief and fatigue she, somewhat unwillingly, allowed herself to be led into the city. Nyalana cut a winding path, sticking to the shadows. It was a dance they both knew all too well, and they were fluid partners. Elphaba panicked, however, when Nyalana led her to the back of a bathhouse and salon, a place where the wealthy went to be pampered and made over.
She stopped, dug in her heels, and would not move.
"Fae…." Nyalana looked her straight in the eyes, not backing away from the wildness in their depths, "You have to trust me."
Trust. She didn't. She wouldn't. She couldn't.
Elphaba turned to run.
"Fae!" The Winkie girl called after her, "What do you have to lose?"
Nothing. Everything. Elphaba stopped. She considered. What could she lose that she had not already lost? It was a strange sense of resolution, but when your greatest fears have already come true, there is less to fear.
She followed Nyalana into the bathhouse, her eyes darting back and forth. The Winkie girl led her deep inside, past all sorts of fancy tubs and pools that were part of a world of which Elphaba could not partake. Finally, Nyalana pushed back a curtain, and motioned Elphaba into a small room. There was a bench, a rudimentary mirror of polished metal, and a hook.
"It's a changing room, for the baths. But I thought…." Nyalana trailed off as she indicated the bottle of oil in Elphaba's hand.
Elphaba understood her meaning, and yet flicked her eyes back and forth, fearing intruders.
Nyalana withdrew a blade from her shoe, which seemed too large to have been hidden there. "I'll be right here," She reassured, "and I'm a revolutionist. I'd die before I'd let anyone in there."
The proof was in Nyalana's scars. Elphaba accepted the offer with a slight nod, and entered the small room. She pulled the heavy curtain closed behind her, and found it quite dark. She mumbled a few words, reaching back to sorcery class and managing to conjure up a small light in the empty lantern.
She tied her hair up tightly, and pulled off her boots, then the socks she wore instead of stockings. She stripped off the dress, which was badly in need of repair after having been pilfered for fabric to cover Nyalana's wounds. The makeshift undergarments came off last, and she stood naked.
How long had it been since she had been completely without clothes? Months, she guessed. Elphaba worked quickly with the oil, enjoying its scent, the smooth feeling of it. Yet she would not look at herself. She turned her back toward the makeshift mirror and studied her own hands, instead of her body. Her nudity seemed painful, shameful and full of vile memories. She could not look at herself without seeing the sexuality that had been forced on her. Still, the oil was glorious, cleansing and soothing. It was a complex, contradictory experience. She was glad when it was over, despite how much better she felt, physically.
"Put this on," Nyalana flipped a garment over the curtain, and it landed at Elphaba's feet.
She picked it up, and found a long, slender garment. It was dark and sleeveless, and felt altogether foreign. It was surely of Winkie origin, probably from the depths of the Vinkus. Still, she put it on, if only because the oil on her skin was still moist.
Elphaba slid the curtain open, and the pin came loose from her hair, sending it tumbling over her shoulders. As she reached to catch the hairpin, she heard someone inhale sharply, and caught sight of the Gorilla standing behind Nyalana.
"Sweet Oz!" The Animal gasped at the sight of Elphaba, and the green girl waited for the usual reaction.
"Nyalana, she's…….beautiful," The Gorilla finished, paradoxically.
There was a strange silence, as all of Elphaba's usual sarcastic comments were lost. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.
"And this hair," The Gorilla, who proved to be female, continued. She seemed not to realize she was only the second person to use the word 'beautiful' in the presence of the green girl. "What absolutely beautiful hair!" She ran large, dark fingers through it, separating the tangles with practiced fingers.
"Come with me," The Gorilla instructed, and Elphaba was still too shocked to argue.
The Animal took the magicked lantern and led them to another room, filled with chairs. The Gorilla set Elphaba down and set to work on her hair, washing, detangling, brushing, all the while marveling and calling the strands "spun onyx."
As the Gorilla worked, Nyalana rambled off an explanation about having met the Animal early in her days in the city. She had been a hairdresser, forced from her job by the Banns. Now, Nyalana and the Animal did for each other, gave each other a measure of protection. Yet Elphaba barely heard her.
She was clean, she was not feared, and her whole body was soothed by the strong hands of this Animal, blessed with opposable thumbs. For the first time, perhaps in her entire lifetime, Elphaba felt like a woman. And it felt good.
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Elphaba sat, blissful, while the Gorilla, whose name turned out to be Sambwa, worked with Nyalana's hair. Unbraided, it turned out to be long, black and coarse. The Gorilla worked more oil through it, until it shone.
"You should leave it unbraided…" Elphaba posed, her guard lowered enough to postulate such frivolous things.
Nyalana shook her head as Sambwa began to twist it into complex braids.
"It doesn't have the texture of yours. It would be hopelessly matted within days."
Elphaba nodded and raised her hand to touch her almost-dry mane. She wondered, if the Gorilla's opinion was indeed true, why nature had seen fit to frame such an unusual, awkward, often repulsive face, with such beauty.
She shook it off, unable to accept that nature, or the Unamed God, or Lurline herself, had any real plans for her. So many things about her remained an anomaly.
As she and Nyalana left the bathhouse, Elphaba reached out and took the Gorilla's hand and squeezed. She looked into her deep-set, dark eyes and tried to convey gratitude. Sambwa nodded slightly, and shooed them on their way. Elphaba hoped sincerely that she would see her again.
She and Nyalana walked in tandem, with the Winkie girl making sure they were not seen. Elphaba carried her dress, still wearing the strange garment Nyalana had given her. They stopped only to pilfer some cloth, discarded behind a tailor's shop. Their goods in hand, they quickly fled back to the bridge.
Exhausted, they both fell into a heavy sleep, as dawn broke over the horizon.
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A handful of days later, they sat cross-legged, sewing intently, as a crisp, unusually cool fall breeze threatened to blow the fabric from their laps. Malky was quite the successful thief, given his small stature and perception as an animal. He'd managed to bring them several spools of thread and some needles. Now that Nyalana had healed sufficiently enough, they turned the needles on their clothes.
"Ouch!" Elphaba exclaimed, her mood growing fouler as she stabbed herself for what must have been the thousandth time.
"I was never all that domestic…" She grumbled, as she sewed another strip of fabric into the skirt of her dress. It had become quite patchwork-looking, as none of the fabric they'd managed to steal quite matched the black of the dress. Yet it was a well-made garment, and she wasn't quite ready to give it up. It had also been a gift, from the doctor who still felt so father-like, when she allowed herself to think of him.
"It's either this," Nyalana replied, "or we risk going about naked."
Elphaba stopped and looked up. Seeing the Winkie girl's half-smile, she turned up the corner of her mouth. She could appreciate the joke, today.
After a long moment of silence, Nyalana finally spoke.
"Do you know…" She asked haltingly, "….what happened to Frederick?"
In a way she'd come to expect, Elphaba's heart constricted. She took a deep breath, stemming the sharp retorts that immediately rose to her lips. Sarcasm wouldn't change what happened, and couldn't erase the pain. This time, she'd try things Malky's way.
"They shot him," She answered simply, her voice thin, "the ARA. They shot him."
"Why?" Nyalana asked after a moment.
"He was protesting the killing of an Animal. I didn't…" She started, "I didn't see it happen. But I saw him…dead."
Nyalana didn't question further, seeming content with the story, simple as it was. After a few minutes of silent sewing, she added, "He was a good man. He deserved better."
Elphaba nodded.
"Yes he was," She whispered.
And for Elphaba, she felt as though she had paid her respects, at last.
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At some point in the ensuing weeks, they had both accepted that Nyalana would make the bridge her permanent residence. It was a silent agreement, a wordless fact. They both knew it was dangerous. Having two members of the Resistance in one place made them vulnerable, and made them dependent in a way neither wanted to admit. Yet for Elphaba, it seemed very much worth the risk. They knew almost nothing of each other, yet they owed each other so much. Nyalana was making Elphaba stronger, healing her and increasing her passion for the mission they shared. If eventual death was the price of their friendship, Elphaba decided her renewed enthusiasm was worth it. She would rather go down in a blaze of fire, than fade away like a guttering candle, too afraid to shine.
As the chill of fall swept over the city, they walked one afternoon, hoping to pilfer some fruit or bread from a careless vendor. Nyalana had completed a rather risky mission, and Elphaba felt the city's newspapers would most likely be proclaiming the death of another of the Wizard's closest advisors in the next few days. Neither of them would discuss the details of their assignments, but Elphaba knew the packages they delivered and the locations they revealed surely had deadly consequences.
She wouldn't focus on it today. Instead, she turned her attention to the cart of vegetables in front her, waiting for the vendor to busy herself with chasing away the stray dogs who loitered, hoping for bits of anything.
Elphaba was ready to make her move, when something caught her eye, a flurry of black, followed by the unmistakable snap of an explosive arming itself. It was a sound she knew well, having used them several times since she'd set the fire in the printing press. She scanned the street, and her eyes landed on a group of Gale Force officers, their weapons slung over their shoulders as they looked for any illegal Animal activity.
Elphaba's eyes fell on the small vial, lying unnoticed at their feet. She had only enough time to pull Nyalana and the vegetable vendor into an alley before the vial exploded. Knocked off their feet, they brushed themselves off, stunned.
Elphaba quickly pulled her hat back over her face, fearing the vendor's reaction. She left Nyalana to help the woman up as she scanned the scene, her mind on more than just the injured soldiers. They were injured, certainly, but it did not look as though the blast had been fatal.
Elphaba's sharp eyes scoured her surroundings, finally coming to rest on a ledge some ten feet off the ground, in the shadows of the alley. She locked eyes with the animal, searching the wide, green eyes. And then she saw it, the spark of intelligence, the ability to think and feel.
The Cat realized it, too, and ran, with Elphaba sprinting behind. The Animal was fast, and could leap effortlessly, but it took a wrong turn, and trapped itself in a dead end street. With nothing but smooth stone rising around them, they faced each other wordlessly.
The Cat hissed, its fur on end.
"Oh hush," Elphaba spat, "we both know you can speak."
The Animal let out a low growl, and Elphaba swept it up by its scruff in one swift motion. She took in the emerald eyes, the jet-black fur, and the unmistakable intelligence in the Animal's eyes.
"This is quite undignified," The Cat conceded her ability to speak, and also revealed that she was female. "If you're going to torture me, save the trouble. I'll die before I'll confess."
"I don't want to torture you," Elphaba threw out as she carried the Cat back toward the bridge, "I think I know your father."
They were both silent for the journey.
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Elphaba hurried quickly through the streets, her heart pounding at the possibility of what she had discovered. Malky had done so much for her, mostly just by being who he was. She longed for a way to repay him, and, if indeed she truly held his daughter, she could ease his suffering somewhat. Then, there was the added benefit of knowing she had undone a little of what the Banns were seeking to accomplish. By reuniting this Animal family, she could take some of their power. What they had tried to destroy, she would repair.
"Why should I trust you?" The Cat needled as they approached the bridge. "How could you know anything about my father?"
"Because I'm the one holding you by the neck right now," Elphaba snapped. She had never been one to find much virtue in patience.
As they ducked into the bowels of the bridge, Elphaba scanned the trusses, looking for a flash of white in the shadows. She cursed silently to herself as she found Malky to be absent.
"Could you kindly put me down now?" The Cat had an edge in her voice.
"How do I know you won't run?" Elphaba was skeptical.
"How do I know that you know anything about my father?" The Cat snapped back.
"Because he lives here," Elphaba's tone was exasperated. Still, out of respect, she dropped the Animal onto the stone floor, where she landed softly.
"How do I know you don't plan to kill me? Or hold me ransom?"
"Because the Resistance doesn't pay ransom," Elphaba retorted.
"I don't know what you're talking about," The Cat replied, her face blank, her eyes fierce.
"Doesn't matter. I know what I'm talking about, and I know I'm right."
"Then what is my father's name?"
"Malky. Malkavese," Elphaba answered, locking her own sharp eyes with the Cat's.
They stared at each other, reaching a stalemate. They were reflections of each other, both of them dark and wild and unstoppable. Neither looked away, until a voice broke their feud.
"Zaar?"
Malky stood in a band of afternoon sun, just inside the cavern. The black Cat turned, taking in the other Animal.
"Papa?" Her voice was high and thin now, as though she had dropped the mask of revolution.
Malky approached slowly, stunned. He stopped just in front of the other Cat, studying her, as though he were memorizing her.
"You are truly Zaar?" He asked in disbelief.
She nodded slowly.
"Your mother is…..was Nisa?"
Zaar nodded again.
"How is this possible?" Malky's gaze turned back to Elphaba, looking as vulnerable as she'd ever seen him as he searched her emerald face for answers.
"We ran into each other……somewhat," Elphaba replied, attempting a smile for Malky's benefit.
"I never imagined…..I mean I hoped…" Malky stumbled over his words, "…but I never really thought that…."
"I thought you were dead…" Zaar threw out, her voice catching. She studied Malky intently for a few moments. "They killed Mama. They killed everyone…" She trailed off, the horror of it all creeping into her voice.
"I know," Malky whispered, "I know."
"I thought you would find me," Zaar stated, sounding somewhat pleading.
"I tried…" Malky tried to reassure, "…oh how I tried…."
They were silent for a moment, both of them unsure of how to proceed.
Malky finally broke the silence.
"You've grown up…" His voice was soft and sentimental.
Elphaba saw the mist form over Zaar's eyes, saw her swallow over the tears and fight back the emotion. She could see the revolutionist in her fighting against the scared Kitten who had run so bravely, so long ago. Elphaba had never felt such a connection to another being as she did in that moment. Never had she felt such compassion, such empathy. And, because of that, she knew exactly what Zaar needed in that moment.
Elphaba cleared her throat.
"We should eat," She cut into the tense silence, "and Nyalana must be wondering where I disappeared to."
"I'll find her," Zaar offered, "if you can scrounge up some food." There was gratefulness in her wide, green eyes. Yet she turned back, before leaving. "I'll be back soon," She met Malky's eyes.
"I'll be right here," He answered softly.
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Later that night, after Nyalana had treated them to the feast she had procured in the chaos after the explosion, Elphaba sat with Malky. Zaar had left, giving only a vague explanation, but promised to return. Elphaba was certain she was on business related to the Resistance, and hoped for her safety.
"You did a good thing today," Malky spoke softly, swishing his tail over the side of the bridge in the thick night.
"I suppose," Elphaba answered, studying her hands.
"I told you once that you are not who you think you are. I don't think you really understood. So let me tell you who you are," Malky's voice was strong, and full of meaning, "You are strong, fierce and full of conviction. You love wholly and completely, even if the only thing you think you love is your cause. You care, more than most anyone has the strength to care. You are made of something more durable and pure than I can name. You are immeasurably good, if you will allow yourself to be."
Elphaba felt something catch in her throat at the word pure. She felt anger mixed with many, many tears. She fixated on the anger, because it stemmed the tears. "Perhaps I just fall into good deeds by chance. I didn't look for Zaar. And I am far from pure. I am the antithesis of the word," She threw out her words, finding that her chest ached from the feelings Malky had dredged up.
"Your conviction is pure. Your love for what is right is pure. What else matters?" Malky posed.
At that, perhaps because the anger held back her fear and nausea, Elphaba's words came tumbling out.
"I am used! I am dirty and discarded and…..and labeled a whore! Good couldn't stand my presence! Good flees from me! I simply fall into the right place at the right time, on occasion! I am wickedness brought to life! You see!" She thrust her hands outward, "It's so prevalent it has stained my skin! Why else should someone be green, unless they bear all the wickedness of the world?"
Malky stared at her for a long time, understanding that most anything he could say would come across as trite, and would not heal her suffering. Finally, he spoke.
"Now you've said it. You've said it out loud. Now you can start to cast it away from you, rid yourself of it, and see the purity that lies underneath," He turned to crawl back under the bridge, leaving her with the star-spotted night.
Elphaba sat for a long time, listening to the steadily lapping water, the rustling breeze, and her own breathing. She thought of Malky, of Nyalana, and now Zaar. If there was a picture of goodness, surely they were it. The bravery, courage and stamina seeped from them. Not to mention the wisdom bestowed on Malky, in quantities Elphaba had never found in human or Animal. In spite of herself, she supposed if there was any hope for her own healing, Malky would be the catalyst for it. He almost made her believe there was, indeed, goodness within her.
When she crawled back into the caverns of the bridge, she caught sight of Malky curled up tightly, with Zaar encircled next to him, their paws entwined. Elphaba smiled her strange, half-smile. She had made good, something tangibly good. And as she fell asleep, she thought she might have left just a little of her pain outside, cast into the night with her words.
I am not a whore, She repeated to herself over and over as she fell asleep. Perhaps, in time, she could believe it.
