Just wanted to mention that Mia's name comes from my first real fanfiction fan, The Last Truffula Tree. Thanks to you Crazy...for believing I could still be a writer. :-)
Don't know much about your life.
Don't know much about your world, but
Don't want to be alone tonight,
On this planet they call earth.
You don't know about my past, and
I don't have a future figured out.
And maybe this is going too fast.
And maybe it's not meant to last,
But what do you say to taking chances,
What do you say to jumping off the edge?
Never knowing if there's solid ground below
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say,
What do you say?
Taking Chances, Lea Michele, Glee Cast
Chapter 18
The question of Mia's paternity would not be answered in the following weeks or months, or even years. As she grew older and time slipped by, she only grew to look more like Elphaba. As the little girl passed out of babyhood and through her toddler years, she grew taller and leaner. Her hair grew long, thick and dark, like fresh ink poured down over her green shoulders. Her eyes turned from newborn blue to the green-flecked brown of her mother's. Her jaw line was strong, and her nose, even in the softness of childhood, was clearly from Elphaba. Even her mischievous smirk was a mirror image of the woman who bore her.
Yet Mia was the antithesis of what Elphaba understood she'd been like as a child. Where Elphaba had been sullen and quiet, often disappearing and causing quite a panic, Mia thrived around people. Both Matvei and Elphaba were constantly chasing her upstairs after finding her chatting incessantly with the restaurant patrons. They took it in good spirits, though, because they both realized that for some of the regular customers, it was a treat to chat with the little girl. Elphaba marveled at her daughter, who'd earned the endearing title of Little Green Girl from the regulars, and took it in stride. Where Elphaba had shied away from all of her peers, Mia overwhelmed them with her personality.
More and more often, Elphaba found that her attention was on the life she'd created, rather than the work she planned to do. She was torn, struggling with the raging desire to do something that mattered, but finding she was unable to pull herself away from Mia. So her books often sat idle, gathering dust, while Mia demanded that Elphaba use her sorcery skills to make colorful bursts of light or levitate toys.
There were moments when Elphaba felt as though she was watching herself grow up again, but as a different, better person. It made her second-guess herself, to second-guess her mission to rally against the Wizard. She'd organized several underground meetings in the Animal community, to discuss their grievances and consider what might be done. However, the overwhelming feeling was that the Wizard appeared to be lightening the restrictions, and very few Animals wanted to risk their lives if revolution was unnecessary. It frustrated her, because Elphaba felt deep down that that was exactly the reaction the Wizard would hope for. She also wondered if she might have more success if she had something of Mia's charm in her. She knew it was silly, to envy a child, but she did it just the same.
Like sand through her fingers, seasons came and went, until Mia was approaching her sixth birthday. It was winter, and Elphaba stood in her room one evening, trying on a dress she'd found on a recent trip to the garment district. She'd hung a mirror on the bare wall across from her bed, and she studied how the dress fit. It needed a bit of altering, but it would do, she decided. Then, something in her reflection stopped her, and she stared.
You're not a young girl anymore, a tiny voice inside her whispered, and she realized it was the truth. The dress she wore was certainly not made for a school girl, and wearing it showed how Elphaba had changed. She was a touch taller, and her body had never quite returned to the pointy, awkward, adolescent figure she'd had before her pregnancy. Her eyes were deeper set, her cheek bones higher, and her hair had kept the rippling waves it had developed while she was pregnant.
The changes weren't necessarily bad, but Elphaba couldn't help feeling that this was not the place she thought she would be now. She was just twenty-five, but she felt old, and a bit like a train that had jumped tracks at some point and never figured out how to return to the original course. She thought backward, and tried to remember the exact point at which her life had taken such a skewed path. Elphaba flashed back to her first real conversation with Fiyero.
Even a small thing, like the brush of a butterfly's wing, can make an significant difference, in time…
It was the explanation she'd used to justify sleeping with him, and she knew her motives had been mostly honorable at the time. Still, she also knew now that the change she'd made was not the one she'd intended.
Elphaba asked herself when her life had taken the turn that had led to this moment. Was it when Fiyero had stopped to speak, or when she'd planted herself by the canal that day? Was it when she'd allowed him into her room, or later, when Avaric had shoved himself into the whole mess? At what point had that imperceptible brush of the butterfly's wings occurred, and brought her here, to this moment?
Elphaba sighed, not sure that she would ever answer the question. She gave up thinking on it for now, because there was work to be done downstairs. She stripped off the dress, which she would take to be altered, and pulled on her working clothes. She tied her hair back tightly and hurried downstairs to help Matvei with the dinner crowd. When she emerged through the kitchen, she found Mia sitting at the restaurant counter eating scraps of cheese that had been cut from the pieces used on sandwiches.
"Put that up," Elphaba snapped, "or you'll be sick all evening, and I do not intend to sit up with you."
"It's just a stomachache, Mama," Mia argued, smiling while she dropped another piece of cheese in her mouth.
Not amused, Elphaba said, "No," and took the plate and added it to the pile of dirty dishes.
Mia pouted overdramatically.
The child had given them quite a scare when she was perhaps a year old, screaming and writhing in pain for several days. With the help of Taia and a local doctor, they'd determined she simply couldn't tolerate the milk they'd begun giving her. It was one of the moments that stood out to Elphaba, because it was in those times that she realized, in spite of herself, how much she cared for Mia. They'd easily rectified the problem by taking away the milk, but Mia's daring and carefree personality had her testing the rules daily.
"Sit there, and Gervais will bring you some dinner soon. And don't talk to Master Fried. He doesn't like children," Elphaba ordered.
Mia chewed her fingernails, "That's silly…not to like someone because they're small."
Elphaba rolled her eyes, "That's not why…nevermind."
Gervais appeared from the kitchen then, with a steaming bowl of vegetable stew and fresh bread for Mia, "My lady," he teased, while placing the dish on the counter.
Mia laughed, and Elphaba chided, "You spoil her."
Gervais just smiled and headed back to the kitchen.
Mia started to eat, trying to keep her long, heavy hair out of the bowl while she devoured her dinner. Elphaba set about making fresh coffee and hauling away the dirty dishes to make space for the next wave of orders. Returning after a minute, she shook her head at Mia and fished a couple of hairpins out of a miscellaneous drawer.
"Oz sakes child…" she mumbled as she pulled Mia's hair back somewhat haphazardly, but out of her face, "sometimes I think I should shear this hair right off!"
Mia looked up, "You wouldn't do it, Mama."
"Don't be impertinent, child," Elphaba scolded.
"But it's true!"
"And why should I not, if you keep dredging it through your food?"
"Because Mat says you love my hair!" Mia argued.
Elphaba just shook her head because, in spite of herself, she couldn't stay angry. Every day, she was certain this child had managed to find the one weak place in her armor, the Achilles heel in the steely exterior she'd spent a lifetime perfecting.
One of the regular dinner customers ambled over then, taking a seat at the counter and slapping his newspaper down in front of him, "Evening Fae…Evening little Green Bean," he acknowledged both Elphaba and Mia.
Elphaba shook her head. Such a comment would have sent her into a sulk, when she was a child. Mia just smiled a broad, toothy smile.
"She's not a vegetable, Detriek," Elphaba couldn't help but scold.
"But I like the name Green Bean," Mia piped up.
Detriek chuckled and asked, "And why is that?"
Mia chewed her lip, looking so much like her mother, "Because if I weren't green, how would you know for sure that it was me?"
Detriek laughed heartily, and Elphaba smirked at the logic of a five year-old. Then, she set about getting Detriek his usual bowl of soup. As she set it in front of him, he pushed the newspaper towards her.
"Looks like our wonderful Wizard has gotten himself a little jewel to hang on his arm. Trying to boost his appeal again, most likely, before he plunges us all into a war we don't want," Detriek observed, pointing at the front page.
Elphaba glanced half-heartedly, and then froze as she realized what she was seeing. She pulled the paper towards herself and studied the picture there. It was Galinda. She was certain. She was dressed to perfection in an elegant ball gown, her hair piled in perfect curls on her head. She smiled a perfect smile as she stood arm in arm with the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. The headline read, Our Glorious Wizard names new Press Secretary.
Elphaba stood there for a few long moments, frozen. She scanned the article, trying to understand what she was seeing. Snatches of the story stood out to her as she read.
Lady Glinda Upland of the Arduennas…accepted the newly created position of Press Secretary to the Wizard of Oz…having ascended quickly up the ladder of political influence since her graduation from Shiz University…personally recommended by Headmistress, Madame Morrible…
Elphaba was horrified. She had wondered constantly what had become of Galinda. She had missed her terribly, counting their friendship as one of the brightest spots in her past. She knew that her former roommate would have gone on with her life, perhaps marrying and carrying on as a debutant. Yet she never imagined this. Had their friendship not been so close, so intimate and important, Elphaba might have been able to brush it off. Instead, it felt like Galinda had slapped her. It felt like she'd taken every dream and goal Elphaba had confided to her and decided to work against each and every one.
How could she? Elphaba asked herself, and then tried to remember that she'd left Galinda alone, without explanation, to do with her life as she saw fit.
"Mama?" a tiny voice was asking, and Elphaba realized she hadn't moved for some time.
"You all right, Fae?" Detriek asked.
She nodded, clutching the paper, "It's just…I recognized her…just, someone I used to know…"
"Her?" Detriek indicated the paper.
Elphaba nodded, "Do you think I could have this?" she asked, still clutching the newspaper.
"Sure," Detriek offered, "Can I read it first?"
Elphaba pushed the paper back toward him, too shaken to respond.
The following day, Elphaba was still distracted. She had taken the newspaper to her room and tucked it into one of her books after reading the article several times. She'd slept fitfully the previous night, and had been on edge all morning. She knew she really had no right to be angry, and no right to say how Galinda's life should play out. The frilly blonde from Gillikin was raised to be an upper-class socialite, and from what Elphaba understood, the role of Press Secretary was not particularly influential. Still, she'd imagined Galinda would marry well and have beautiful children, not promote the Wizard's agenda. Clearly, she must have brushed off everything they'd stayed up nights discussing, once Elphaba had left her alone.
At least she's done something. She's taken a stand.
The thought hit her hard, and Elphaba shook it off before she could get angry with herself. This wasn't the time, she determined, as she scrubbed the restaurant counter clean.
It was a quiet day, with only a handful of customers working their way through their lunch. The weather was nice enough, although winter clearly still had a hold on the city. The passersby were bundled in cloaks and hats. It was an overwhelmingly normally, forgettable day. So when the door jingled that someone had entered, Elphaba did not look up. She was lost in her thoughts, methodically wiping the counter, when a voice sent a rush of adrenaline through her, like a white-hot blade plunged into her chest.
"Elphaba? Elphaba Thropp?"
She looked up directly into the face of Avaric.
Avaric took dinner the following evening at one of the handful of restaurants he frequented in the wealthy, business district. He arrived just after seven o'clock, and as he expected, Fiyero Tigelaar was already at a table, nursing a brandy.
"Ordered any food to go with that?" Avaric harangued, tossing his overcoat over the adjacent chair.
Fiyero smirked, but said nothing.
"It'll kill you, one of these days. You can't drink brandy at every meal, every day, for long," Avaric chided.
Fiyero shook his head, "Quite a turn of events, is it not, you lecturing me?"
"Life is strange," Avaric agreed, only partially joking.
"So what's tonight," Fiyero asked, trying to be jovial, "the theater? The Rockford Club? Music at Benevue's?"
Avaric caught the waiter and ordered a glass of wine, considering his response. When it was placed before him, he swirled the dark liquid and said, "Perhaps we could take a carriage to the fourth ward. I hear there are some great, authentic Vinkun restaurants there."
Fiyero looked taken aback and answered, "Fourth ward? That's just working class taverns and shops that support the factory workers north of Sixty-Third Street. Doesn't sound like much fun."
"Maybe it's not about fun," Avaric sighed.
"Your ambiguity is grating," Fiyero grumbled.
Avaric shook his head, "As is your constant inebriation, but that aside, I think there's something in the fourth ward you should see."
"Something?" Fiyero raised an eyebrow.
"Okay…someone," Avaric took a deep breath, knowing he was venturing into troubled waters, "I was at a restaurant yesterday, just a little café really, and I'm certain I saw Elphaba Thropp."
Fiyero's expression clouded, and his eyes took on a dark, hard quality, "And you think she's someone I want to see?"
"Maybe not want to see. Need to see."
"No," was Fiyero's flat answer.
Avaric took another sip of wine, "Come on, you can't do this forever."
"What?" Fiyero snapped.
"Drink your life away because of something she did six years ago."
"Maybe you should remember who it was she did," Fiyero sneered, polishing off the brandy.
"Don't be crass," Avaric argued, "and I never demanded you forgive me, or befriend me."
"You apologized," Fiyero challenged.
"You're right, and I meant it. I was an ass. And you spent three hours telling me how we ruined your life. But that's been a year now. Maybe it's time to get over it all and move on," Avaric tried to reason.
Fiyero narrowed his eyes, "Move on? She lied to me. She lied to you, really. She used both of us for her ridiculous plan. She ruined any chance I had of following through with my marriage and taking over the castle at Kiamo Ko!"
"You confessed to your own indiscretions. You walked away from your birthright," Avaric argued.
"I couldn't commit to the girl I was betrothed to. The marriage was ruined before it could begin," Fiyero seethed.
"Because you loved Elphaba," Avaric dared to point out, knowing this conversation was heading toward the point when Fiyero would drink himself unconscious and he would have to put the Winkie prince in a carriage bound for home.
Fiyero simply ordered another brandy, though, and said, "I'm not going to see her."
"Fine," Avaric gave in with a sigh, "It's probably fruitless anyway. She ran the moment our eyes met, and no one at the café could get her to return. It was absolutely her, though. Older, different maybe, but definitely her…"
"Come on," Fiyero finished his drink and stood to his feet, "Enough of this. I hear there's a splendid party at the Palace tonight. It's exclusive, but I think we can talk our way in."
Avaric stood reluctantly, understanding that the subject of Elphaba was now closed.
They took a carriage to the center of the city, where the palace stood tall and emerald before them. Fiyero led the way, flashing his credentials as a diplomat to the Wizard. Avaric followed along, feeling weary already. He found it hard to believe that he'd once lived only for the chance to hop from one social gathering to the next, seducing women along the way. He'd mastered the art of it all, even before Shiz, and his charm was undeniable. Still, after a year of accompanying Fiyero night after night to every glittery, flashy, high-strung gala they could find, he was growing bored. This party was no different than the rest, and a part of him wanted to ditch Fiyero and go home.
Avaric was so lost in thought he nearly ran over a young woman on his way to find the water closet. He stumbled and apologized, and she turned, surprised.
"Master Avaric?" she squeaked, looking up at him with wide, blue eyes.
It took him a moment, but he realized he was looking into the face of Galinda Upland. She was dressed exquisitely, in shimmering blue that matched her eyes. Her ears and neck dripped with diamonds, and her hair was perfectly coiffed atop her head. She was no taller, he determined, but she'd filled out and become beautiful, rather than just pretty.
"Well I suppose it's good to see you too," Galinda finally said, when he said nothing.
"I'm sorry…it's just been a long time…Miss Galinda," Avaric tried to explain his staring.
"It's Lady Glinda, now," she corrected.
Avaric raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"And what do you think of my party?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
Truly, it was like most any other party, but somehow Avaric couldn't tell her that, so he stated, "It's magnificent."
"I've been named Press Secretary, if you haven't heard," she explained.
"Ah…yes," Avaric vaguely recalled.
"And you," Galinda touched his arm, "I hear you've done some humanitarian work in Quadling country?"
"Yes," Avaric admitted, "Visiting a place like that will do wonders for a person's…attitude," he met her eyes on the last word, hoping she understood his meaning.
She studied his eyes for a moment then, and her face fell open a bit. Avaric felt like he was seeing the Galinda he remembered, young, naïve, and a bit afraid of him. She said nothing for a minute or two, and then said tightly, "That's good to hear."
Avaric considered the irony that he would stumble across Elphaba just one day before meeting Galinda again tonight. Of course, he'd known where to find Galinda, if he'd wanted to, but hadn't thought much of her since Shiz. He'd managed to put most of it behind him. He hadn't given much thought to what had become of Elphaba Thropp either, as he'd tried to find his place in the world as an adult. He assumed she'd disappeared on some crazy mission of her own design. Now, though, standing with Galinda, he remembered how clearly devastated she had been at the loss of her roommate. Avaric remembered being confused, because Galinda had loathed the green girl as far he remembered.
He pulled Galinda away from the crowd of people and asked, "Do you remember Elphaba Thropp?"
Galinda looked startled and shaken, answering, "Yes," the one word was filled with such rich meaning that Avaric also understood she clearly remembered his role in the whole mess.
"I understand," he prefaced, "I was an ass, but I saw her yesterday. I know it was her."
Galinda studied his face, perhaps to determine if he was lying or playing some ridiculous prank. Finally, she said, "From what I remember, you haven't always been one to traffic in honesty."
Avaric ran a hand through his hair, struggling with what to say, "Look, I know you've no real reason to believe me. Maybe it doesn't even matter. It's been years, and we've all changed," he looked pointedly at Galinda, "But I believe I remember you being quite upset when Miss Elphaba disappeared."
"And I do recall your lack of concern, at the time," Galinda shot back icily.
Avaric considered walking away, not much in the mood for arguing over his ethics with someone he hadn't seen in several years. Still, he felt like he might be righting a wrong of some sort, and his newly discovered conscience would not let him walk away. Instead, he offered, "Miss Galinda--"
"Glinda," she corrected him.
"Glinda, then, you may have heard that I spent some time in southern Oz after my graduation from Shiz. I suppose my father got tired of my lying around our estate, wasting money and drinking too much. About a year after Shiz he forced me to join the Relief Corps, or get out on my own. I wisely chose the Corps," Avaric paused, considering what to say, "I spent two years in both Quadling country and the southernmost edge of Munchkinland. It's a bit…startling, to someone born into affluence, to see such poverty. I had to confront it every day. I had to help relocate, protect, pass out supplies, and even build homes. I resented it, at first. I have always been excellent at being obnoxious. But then, I saw them starving. I saw them bury their children. I guess, somewhere along the way, all this pomp and circumstance, it lost its luster…"
Galinda studied him, trying to ascertain if he was being truthful, or just playing out a carefully constructed lie.
Avaric flashed her his most charming smile, tossing his hair back in a way that used to make the girls swoon. He raised his chin in the direction of Fiyero and said, "Come on, Lady Glinda. Even Fiyero has managed to forgive me."
Her eyes worked their way across the ballroom until she saw the Winkie prince, chatting with two women and tossing back whiskey.
"Fiyero?" she looked at Avaric in disbelief.
Avaric nodded and offered his arm. Still shocked, Galinda took it and allowed him to lead her across the room to where Fiyero stood. When Fiyero saw them, he froze for a moment, stunned.
"Galinda?" he managed to choke out.
"Lady Glinda," she corrected, "and why are you so surprised? It's my party, is it not?"
Fiyero looked around, "I suppose it is," he conceded.
"Fiyero doesn't much care whose party it is. As long as it's a party…" Avaric teased dryly.
"You flatter me," Fiyero snapped sarcastically.
Avaric shrugged, not much in the mood to argue.
Galinda looked from one man to the other, obviously a bit baffled that they were on speaking terms. Finally, she just shook her head and said to both of them, "Avaric tells me you ran into Elphaba Thropp yesterday…"
Fiyero's face darkened, "He ran into her," he corrected.
"Where?" she couldn't help asking.
"At a café in the fourth ward. A little place, somewhere on sixty-First Street, I think," Avaric explained.
Galinda bit her lip, looking a bit lost and afraid. Avaric started to say more, but a loud fanfare signaled that it was time for some sort of presentation, and Galinda was whisked away to perform her duties as Press Secretary.
"Are we quite done with this?" Fiyero asked then, annoyed.
"What are the chances…" Avaric said to himself.
"I don't care, and you're becoming a bore," Fiyero chided.
"You need to see her," Avaric tried again, "and move on with your life."
"What's wrong with this life?" Fiyero asked, raising his glass to the festivity around them.
Avaric just shook his head, defeated.
The following morning, Avaric woke to another sunny, cold day. He had business at the Gillikinese Embassy today, as part of his somewhat superficial role as an ambassador representing Gillikin. It was nothing urgent, though, and he dressed slowly, savoring a cup of warm, fresh coffee. He'd managed to drag Fiyero back to his flat at a relatively decent hour the night before, so he was fairly well-rested. Still, Avaric was a bit surprised when there was a knock at the door before ten o'clock. When he opened it, he was shocked to see Galinda Upland, or Lady Glinda.
She was different this morning, dressed in a crisp linen jacket with a high collar and a straight, well-pressed skirt. Her shoes were sensible, rather than spiked and jewel-studded. Her hair was still as golden as ever, but was wound tightly behind her head.
Galinda's eyes were serious, and she skipped the pleasantries, "Take me to Elphaba," was all she said.
"What?"
"You said you saw her, in the city. I've stayed up most of the night agonizing over this. Take me to her."
"Now?" Avaric's tone was incredulous.
"Yes, now. Now, or never. Come what may, and hell to pay…" Galinda's voice became a whisper on the last part.
Avaric considered, and then decided he owed it to her, as recompense for his role in all this mess, "I'll get my coat," he said.
Galinda nodded, impatient.