Sorry, this chapter is still a bit of a filler. I am trying to keep Elphaba in character here, but I think I have failed miserably. I do apologise.
"Yes, my father. Something Eissa said made me wonder…She said that I was a product of your loneliness. She made it sound like Frex isn't my father." Elphaba whispered, her long hands trembling. Melena paled further, and shook her head frantically.
"Don't, Fabala. It was an accident-"
"An accident? Is that what I am? Is that what I've always been?" the girl yelped. Melena continued to shake her head, this time sadly.
"That's not what I meant, my darling. Frex was away…You know how his job often takes him preaching to far away places." she sighed, and her daughter nodded. Eissa's death had actually held them back from a trip to Quadling country, where her father was going to try and convert the people to the Unionist faith.
"I had been completely alone for almost a year, my love, you have to understand that! One day a little tinker passed by, and I offered him a place to rest and a meal. He gave me a drink out of a green glass bottle, and promised me that I would have rare expansive dreams. I did, but when I woke up, he was gone. Nine months later, you were born, just as green as the bottle. It wasn't until then that I realised that you might not be Frex's. He returned two days after the tinker left, but…the possibility was there, Fabala. I told Frex, and he just looked at you, and you looked at him, and he said that he didn't care if you weren't his by blood, because you were his in soul. He never blamed me."
The redhead fell silent, and Elphaba tried to take in the new information. She didn't know if she cared who her father was, but a flicker of hate ignited in her mind, because if it really was this tinker, it was his fault. His fault that she had been born so blighted. Him and his little green bottle.
A few minutes passed in silence, before Elphaba saw fit to speak. The sentence she uttered was not one that her mother had expected to hear.
"I think that I'm responsible for Eissa's death." she muttered, her mouth twitching into a malevolent smile. Melena stared. "It wasn't on purpose, don't even think that. She was being spiteful, and malicious, even though she could see that I was upset. She said that thing about my father…And I just stared at the gargoyle. I was trying to hold my temper, because I thought I might throttle her. I felt something flare up in my veins, and I realise now it was the magic. The magic that I try so hard to control. The gargoyle fell and…I must have been responsible. I'm sorry."
Wordlessly, Melena went and embraced her daughter. She knew that it was beyond her control. Any vastly strong emotion always induced the same powerful, magical reaction. It couldn't be helped. An equally nasty smile crossed Melena's features.
'That will teach dear old Issy to meddle in things that don't concern her.' she thought.
Two months later, Elphaba ambled into the stables, seeking her Vinkun stallion, Wit. The horse saw her approach and abandoned it's breakfast, greeting it's mistress with fond black eyes. The girl stroked his nose and fetched his brush, ready to groom him before she took him out for the day.
Going out wasn't something that she usually did, but the need to escape Rilt's penetrating gaze had become overwhelming, and the young woman decided that if she kept to the trails in the forest near her home, she would be safe. Wit tossed his head towards the wire brush, gazing at his mistress attentively, and she smiled.
"You're always there for me, aren't you?" she whispered, and the horse raised and dropped his head three times in quick succession, almost as though he was nodding at her. Once she tacked Wit up, Elphaba swung one leg over his back and the well matched pair exited the stables together, heading for the woods. Out of the corner of her dark eyes, the green girl could see her husband watching from the drawing room window, and although it was unlikely he could actually see her, she shuddered.
In temperament, Wit and Elphaba were surprisingly similar. They were both contained and understated, but in the right situation they could have a real fire in their blood that was matched by no-one. Elphaba never needed a riding hat or crop when riding Wit, because they were entirely in tune with one another, and just a slight tensing of her legs around his body could slow him down, and if she dipped her body forward slightly, he would naturally speed up.
It was unbearably hot that day, so she made sure to keep him in the shade of the trees, barely moving at more than a light canter. After an hour or so, Wit began to slow, and Elphaba understood at once. She dismounted and led him down into their favourite clearing in the forest, with a small pool in the middle where the horse could drink.
She herself settled on a nearby rock and pulled out a small collection of letters: Fiyero's letters. They were all neatly bundled up, and were tied in a cobalt blue ribbon. Elphaba slipped the most recent out from underneath the ribbon and read it for the umpteenth time, still smiling over the same parts as she had on her first reading. As time had passed, their letter writing had grown more fervent, and they were now exchanging letters two or three times a week, sent by the fastest messengers they could find.
It didn't escape her notice that their language was becoming more affectionate, and that they were both equally devoted to the correspondence. To Elphaba, the warm words of the young man were a life raft, holding her head above the water of despair. She had taken to drinking a half bottle of wine whenever she expected to be in Rilt's company, and Fiyero was quick to admonish her. He lavished her with attention, and all talk of other girls vanished. It was clear to her that he was almost too adoring to be proper at times, but the young woman returned his sentiments with equal vigour, and in her heart it bordered on worship.
Elphaba was hopelessly in love with him, despite the fact they had only met for a few days, almost three months before. She couldn't confide in anyone. Her mother was the new Eminent Thropp, and was still learning how to rule Munchkinland. Her father had been forced to go to the Quadling Country alone, and wasn't expected back for another few months. Nessarose, though almost sixteen, was too young and couldn't be trusted to hold her tongue. Her only real option was Glinda, and yet as Rilt was her grandfather, she too was out of the question.
And so the poor girl was forced into silence, confused, bewildered and blissful all at the same time. She felt that even though her life had ended with Rilt, there was a possibility of it beginning again with Fiyero, like a Pfenix rising from the ashes. For the first time in her life she prayed, and wished on stars, and all the things she had once dismissed as foolish nonsense. Elphaba could never actually admit that she 'loved' Fiyero; she believed it impossible for someone like her.
Yet she would find herself lying awake well into the night, planning things that they would do together. A month or so before, she would have thought no more of such irrational fancies, but they now came unbidden, and could not be forced into the locked drawer in her brilliant mind that she kept for dreams and wishes.
To everyone around her, she was becoming more and more withdrawn, and retreating further into herself. She used to enjoy books; but now she could almost always be found in the library reading, and stoutly refused to socialise. Her parents put it down to the obstinacy of youth, and didn't see that her cool demour hid the euphoria she felt.With a heavy sigh, Elphaba noticed that the sun was setting somewhere beyond the trees, distant in the West. The smile that flitted briefly across her face was radiant, and she tucked the letters back into her pocket, letting her fingers momentarily brush the soft parchment. Mounting Wit, she set off back to Colwen Grounds.
Melena was waiting for her when she arrived, clutching a vellum envelope with a heavy emerald seal. The older woman smiled at her daughter and broke the seal, removing a piece of familiar parchment. Her dark eyes danced across the page, before she set it on her desk and looked up.
"I had intended for you to spend this summer learning how to be Eminence, but I suppose that can wait. Pack your bags, darling. You and Rilt have been invited to spend a month with the Vinkun royal family. I wonder what brought this about? Highly unexpected!"
Let the games begin.