Content Advisory: Brief discussion of implied infertility/pregnancy loss

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: UNRAVELING THE RIDDLE

Orphans often pictured their dead parents in a rosy light. Especially the orphans who didn't know much about their parents—they could craft their own narrative. Liir was no different. Nobody pictured a set of parents who fought all the time. No. The hope was always to have parents who were in love.

But orphans should be careful what they wish for.

Ever since Fiyero and Elphaba had reconciled at the tavern, Liir had the sneaking suspicion that his parents were indeed in love. And if he were being honest? He preferred the arguing.

"You are so good at that," Fiyero complimented Elphaba one afternoon. "So, so good at that."

"Chopping vegetables?" Elphaba asked.

"Yeah."

Elphaba rolled her eyes…but she was smiling. Liir, who was sitting at the table, directed his eyes back towards the wall he'd grown very accustomed to staring at.

Finding out how Fiyero and Elphaba acted when they were getting along had been a rather rude, awkward awakening. Fiyero was the showiest about it. He took every opportunity he got to touch Elphaba in some way. Hand holding, caressing her face, taking her waist, kissing her cheek, kissing in general. So, so much kissing. Anything that didn't cross a line with Liir around. What was worse, Fiyero seemed hopelessly oblivious to Liir's discomfort!

"You're gorgeous, you know that?" Fiyero said, winding his arms around Elphaba's waist from behind her. "Have I ever told you that?"

"This morning when I woke up," Elphaba said. "And also every day."

"Oh yeah. Well it's true."

Glinda had always been affectionate with Liir, of course, but Liir had never seen his godmother in any sort of romantic context. As far as he knew, Glinda had no suitors to speak of. The boys in his boarding school, whenever clandestine connections arose, carried about in secret seeing as fraternizing in that way was against the school rules. Seeing as Liir had zero romantic experience to speak on for himself, save for what he'd witnessed from strangers, public displays of affection were a pretty new thing for him.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"So…" Liir spoke up. "How did you two meet anyway?"

"School," Elphaba answered shortly.

"Way to underplay our epic romance, Fae."

"Well it's true," Elphaba shrugged, continuing to cut vegetables. "We met at school."

"It was my first day on campus," Fiyero set the scene. "And Elphaba was the first person I laid my eyes on—"

"Because you were sleeping."

"I was resting my eyes—"

"And your cart almost hit me."

"Which she'll never let me hear the end of," Fiyero explained to Liir. "And she hit me with her book."

"She did?" Liir asked.

"Oh barely," Elphaba scoffed.

"Anyway," Fiyero continued. "I threw a party—"

"An insipid party."

"An amazing party," Fiyero corrected Elphaba. "And Elphaba came—"

"Was tricked into coming."

"And I only had eyes for her."

Elphaba snorted.

"You liar."

"Well you at least made an impression on me."

"I make an impression on everybody," Elphaba said. "But it was Glinda you had eyes for that night."

Liir perked up at Glinda's name.

"Glinda?"

"Oh, yes. Glinda the Good herself. Though perhaps she already told you this during your little discussion," Elphaba muttered bitterly. "She told you everything else."

"No," Liir mumbled, mostly to himself. "She told me next to nothing."

"Well she and Fiyero even got engaged while I was gone," Elphaba explained. "Or were you planning to gloss over that, Yero?"

"Gone where?" Liir asked.

"Gone…" Elphaba gestured vaguely. "Witching."

"Oh."

"But then we found each other again, didn't we Fae?" Fiyero jumped in, eager to steer the conversation back towards romance. "After all of those years apart."

"Is that when you went on the run?" Liir asked Fiyero.

"Yes," Fiyero said. He turned Elphaba to face him and drew her near, making Liir regret his question. "Smartest decision I ever made."

"Immediately followed by the most thoughtless decision you've ever made," Elphaba hinted, wrapping her arms around Fiyero's neck.

"We ever made," Fiyero corrected.

"Granted."

"And what was that?" Liir asked curiously.

Elphaba and Fiyero glanced towards Liir, recalling his presence, and then back towards each other. They each eyed the other, silently trying to determine if they should elaborate.

"Well…" Fiyero trailed off. "Uh—"

Liir's neck reddened as it clicked.

"Oh."

"And by and by you came to be," Elphaba explained clinically, turning to return to her task. "I trust that I don't have to explain how?"

"No!" Liir rushed to say, desperately wishing that he'd grasped their innuendos before asking.

"Wonderful," she said. "Then we staged the melting, moved out here, and now you've heard our story. Pass me those carrots, Yero."

He did.

"Well—" Liir cleared his throat, trying to formulate a polite response. "It's nice that after everything that happened you two ended up so…happily married."

"Married? Ohhhh, no," Fiyero spoke up loudly. "No, Liir. We're not married."

Elphaba sighed heavily. "Here we go…"

"Oh—sorry. I just assumed," Liir backtracked. "Why not?"

"Huh. That's a great question, Liir," Fiyero said. "Elphaba, isn't that a great question? You should answer him! I'd actually love to find out for myself."

"Fiyero," Elphaba warned as she chopped the carrot.

"I mean it's not like I haven't asked you. A lot."

"Are we really doing this right now?"

"Good a place as any. Plus Liir asked, right Liir?"

"I—"

"Do not bring Liir into this."

"Sorry kid, but your parents never got married. Don't blame me, though," Fiyero said, raising his right hand as if to swear to something. "I tried to do the honorable thing by your mother as soon as we found out she was in the family way."

"Oh you did not!" Elphaba huffed, finally rising to Fiyero's bait. She set down her knife and propped a hand on her hip. "If you're going to bring this up, at least be accurate. Why don't you tell Liir about your first proposal to me. That was something."

"I stand by it."

"There could not have been a worse time to do it!"

"I was in love with you!"

"You're still in love with me," Elphaba commented. "You always will be."

"Exactly. So let me put a ring on your finger."

"Where would you even get one?"

"I'll make one. With my bare hands."

"What is even the point?" Elphaba groaned. "It's not like we even file taxes! We're a barter economy."

"Taxes! Liir, do you hear her? She's talking about taxes. I don't want to marry you for taxes, Elphaba. I want to call you my wife."

"Hush, Fiyero."

"Make me."

"I will."

"Marry me."

"No."

There was a glint in both of their eyes, an air of mischief, almost as if their feud was a little game they played. Fiyero grabbed a carrot and took a bite out of it.

"Fine," he shrugged. "I'll just ask you again tomorrow."

"I look forward to that."

Their front door suddenly swung open causing Liir to jump.

"Elphaba I'm sorry to come unannounced but I haven't slept a wink—a wink!"

A hugely pregnant woman stood in the doorway of Elphaba and Fiyero's shack. She had pale white skin and thick, dark bushy hair that was whisked into a giant loose bun. She looked to be mid to late thirties, a little younger than Elphaba and Fiyero, and seemed frazzled. Very frazzled. She turned to sit in one of their chairs at the table but stopped when she found it to be occupied.

"Elphaba, dear, why is there a strange child sitting at your table?" the woman asked, cocking her head to the side to give Liir a puzzled look.

"You can see him too?" Elphaba quipped dryly. "Thank goodness. I thought I was the only one."

Elphaba rounded the counter and shooed at Liir, signaling him to vacate his seat. Liir stood and Elphaba offered the woman her hand to help ease her into the chair.

"You are kidding, right?" the woman asked Elphaba as she squinted at Liir. "I can never tell if you're kidding."

"That's Liir," Fiyero explained.

"Hi," Liir waved awkwardly.

"Oh! Hello, Liir. I'm Hallidah."

Hallidah extended her hand to Liir and he shook it, thankful for a friendly face.

"You can just ignore him," Elphaba muttered. She took the seat across from Hallidah and Liir retreated to the sofa. "What brings you in?"

Hallidah held out her palm open faced and gave Elphaba an expectant look.

"Oh, Hally," Elphaba sighed. "What can I tell you that I haven't already told you?"

"Please?" Hallidah said, looking upon Elphaba with wide dark eyes. Elphaba took a deep breath.

"Very well," Elphaba relented. "Yero, my glasses?"

Fiyero brought Elphaba her round rimmed glasses and she slipped them on. Liir curiously peeked over as Elphaba took Hallidah's hand and began tracing the lines of her palms with her index finger.

"What do you see?" Hallidah asked. "Is it—"

"Shh."

Hallidah pinched her lips shut but her eyes were still locked on Elphaba. Elphaba released her hand and leaned back in her chair.

"So? So?" Hallidah prodded.

"Everything feels the same, Hally," Elphaba shrugged. "Right as rain. You just need to trust it."

"Trust it?" Hallidah sighed, disappointed in Elphaba's answer. "How can I trust it? I'm not far off from forty, Elphaba. This may well be my last shot at this."

"And look at how far you've come," Elphaba said. She reached for Hallidah's hand again but this time to pat it reassuringly. "All signs point to a positive outcome. Worrying will do you no good."

"I just can't take another one, Elphaba. I can't. Calix either. The further along I get the more stressed I am that it's all going to come crashing down," Hallidah fretted. "We've tried too many times. There have been too many…"

Elphaba pursed her lips in sympathy.

"I know."

"Plus there's so much to worry about with the delivery and—"

"Say, would you like to know the gender?" Elphaba interrupted her.

It was a graceless attempt to distract Hallidah from her spiral, but it worked. Hallidah furrowed her brows, visibly considering Elphaba's offer.

"No…I…" Hallidah sighed half-heartedly. "I promised Calix. We still want to be surprised."

"I won't tell Calix that you know," Elphaba persuaded with a wicked half-smile. "It'll be our secret."

"You really know, don't you? You could really tell me."

"I could really tell you."

Hallidah chewed on her lower lip, clearly tempted, before finally shaking her head.

"No, no. I don't want to know."

"Very well. It's your call."

"For what it's worth, though, I suspect Calix wants a boy," Hallidah continued. "Calix Junior."

"What's your pick for a girl?" Fiyero asked.

"Well I've always liked the names of saints—oh thank you, you're a darling," Hallidah said as Fiyero handed her some iced tea. "But I've also considered Thoralynn after Mama."

"Hallidah your mother was a saint," Fiyero said, leaning against the counter. "As far as I'm concerned, anyway."

"She was, wasn't she? Goddess, I miss her. I wish she were here to hold my hand through this," Hallidah said before unsubtly turning her head towards Elphaba. "Which reminds me…"

Elphaba straightened up as Hallidah looked at her.

"Why don't I like your tone?"

"I've been giving a lot of thought to who I want to be present at the delivery," Hallidah said. "And I want you there."

"Me? Oh, Hally—I'm no midwife."

"I don't need a midwife, that's covered. I need a coach."

"Shouldn't that be Calix's job?" Fiyero asked.

"As if I want Calix anywhere near that room," Hallidah chuckled. "I love the man but he'll just stress me out."

"I don't understand what you see in him," Fiyero said pettily.

"Funny. He says he doesn't understand what Elphaba sees in you," Hallidah teased good-naturedly.

"Hally, I'm touched that you trust me enough but—" Elphaba began.

"You're not about to say no to a pregnant woman, are you?" Hallidah said. "A very, very pregnant woman? With a dead mother?"

Liir couldn't help but chuckle over Hallidah's persuasion. She seemed like an easy person to get along with.

"You do love to lay things on thick," Elphaba sighed.

Hallidah sighed and reached for Elphaba's hand.

"Please, Elphaba? Won't you?" she appealed. "You're the only one I trust enough to advocate for me. Especially if things…don't go the way we want them to."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're the only one I know who understands," Hallidah said seriously. "You're the only one who's also lost a chi—"

"Okay, fine!" Elphaba jumped in quickly. "Fine, Hally. I'll do it."

"Okay?" Hallidah brightened.

"I said okay, didn't I?" Elphaba said through gritted teeth.

"Oh bless you, Elphaba. You are a saint!" Hallidah gushed.

"I'm named for one anyway," Elphaba muttered.

Hallidah gestured for assistance and Elphaba stood to help her up.

"What can I give you for the reading?"

"Nothing for this one, Hally dear," Elphaba said, giving Hallidah a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Just hold Calix's feet to the fire to stick with his lessons."

"I will," Hallidah said. "Goodbye, Fiyero. I won't tell Calix you said hello."

"Please don't."

"Goodbye Liir!" Hallidah waved to him. "Whoever you are."

Hallidah mouthed a final 'thank you' to Elphaba and took her leave.

"She's nice," Liir commented.

"She is," Fiyero agreed. "Too nice for Calix."

"Calix is harmless, Fiyero, and he's devoted to Hallidah," Elphaba sighed, crossing to Fiyero and patting his face with her hands. "You just hate that he calls you a pretty boy."

Fiyero crossed his arms in a sulk.

"Maybe."

"But he's right, you know," Elphaba said, kissing Fiyero's pouting lips. "You're a very pretty boy indeed."

"Pretty enough to marry?"

Elphaba smiled affectionately and shook her head.

"No."

As Liir adjusted to the odd day to day in Elphaba and Fiyero's town, a growing sense of dissonance took root within his brain. While Elphaba was flirtatious with Fiyero and helpful to Hallidah, her attitude towards him hadn't changed a lick. She'd yet to spare a kind word, a friendly glance, or a drip of encouragement. When she acknowledged him at all her answers were clipped and curt. She even appeared outwardly annoyed whenever Fiyero tried to include Liir in conversation, as if she were irritated at Fiyero for thwarting her efforts to forget that he existed.

"Hey," Elphaba snapped at Liir as he got distracted by a street vendor in town. "Keep up. Don't fall behind."

"Sorry," Liir mumbled, scurrying to catch up with Elphaba.

She and Fiyero kept strange hours, Liir came to find. Their schedule changed on the daily based on their tasks and rotations. Fiyero ran errands and deliveries for people and picked up shifts at the tavern. Elphaba visited people's homes for reading lessons and to heal minor illnesses and afflictions.

"It'd be like Fiyero to stick me with you today," Elphaba sighed under her breath.

"I can walk myself back, you know," Liir said with a touch of irritation. "It's not like this town is big enough to get lost in."

"No, no. You'll stick right beside me and you won't wander off."

Elphaba kept her gaze straight ahead as she walked side by side with Liir. A group of young men not much older than Liir loitered noisily outside an abandoned shack up ahead.

"Come, Liir," Elphaba said.

Elphaba swerved and led them down a cramped, twisty alleyway that set them further off their intended track.

"What's with the detour?" Liir asked.

"This town may not be big enough to get lost in but it's big enough to find trouble in."

"Elphaba!"

Liir jumped as a woman poked her head out of an alley facing window.

"What?" Elphaba asked.

"Have you any more pain killers?"

"Fresh out. I will be until the caravan comes in," Elphaba said.

The woman moaned in misery.

"Oh, please Elphaba. I'm desperate!"

"I can't help you."

Elphaba continued ahead and Liir followed her out of the alley.

"She looked like she was really hurting…" Liir said sympathetically.

"Yes, she's good at what she does," Elphaba agreed. "She doesn't need the pills, Liir. She pockets them to barter with the addicts."

"Oh…"

"It's like I told you. Trouble. You have to keep your wits about you."

"So you're kind of the town doctor?" Liir said. "A witch doctor."

Elphaba didn't smile but her eyebrow curved upwards a bit at his joke.

"More like a one-woman apothecary. But I was only thrust into the position because no one else in town could read the medical journal."

"But you use magic, don't you?" Liir said. "To heal people?"

"When I can."

"Will you teach me?"

Elphaba groaned.

"Teach me this, teach me that!" Elphaba complained in a childish tone. "As if I don't have enough to do."

Observing Elphaba's pleasant and occasionally, dare he say it, warm nature with select others began to instill Liir with a growing sense of resentment. The Elphaba he was getting was not the one Fiyero was getting, or Hallidah, or, he imagined, Glinda had gotten all those years ago. He didn't feel like he was asking for the world, but a little less animosity towards him would be welcome indeed.

"Wake up."

Liir half-awoke the next morning to a pair of thick gloves being thrown onto his chest. He squinted his open before gasping in groggy panic over the blurry silhouette of The Witch standing over him. He recoiled backwards on the couch until his eyes and memory adjusted. Elphaba stood over him, hands on her hips, with an impatient expression. Atop her head was a pointy hat.

The hat.

"Boo," she said flatly, wiggling her fingers creepily. "Ozsakes the expression on you. You'd think you'd seen a spook."

"Wait—spooks aren't real, are they?"

"Of course they're not real," Elphaba scoffed. "What are you, seven?"

"Sorry," Liir said, ruffling his messy hair with his hand. "It's hard to tell what's real these days."

Elphaba led Liir outside to their garden.

"I've never gardened before…" Liir explained, pulling on the gloves.

"Well tomorrow you won't be able to say that, will you?" Elphaba said, kneeling in the soil. "It's high time I put you to work."

Liir knelt too and watched Elphaba tend to a tomato plant. Every so often his eyes flicked up towards her hat, feeling a funny chill as he looked upon it. On one such look she caught his stare and sighed.

"Oz clearly did a number on you," Elphaba muttered as she worked on her tomato plant. "I always figured it would."

"What do you mean?"

"You're frightened of me."

"No I'm not," Liir said as a knee-jerk reaction. Elphaba gave him a look. "Okay maybe a little. But…can you blame me?"

"I suppose not," Elphaba sighed. "Considering the heart attack you had over my gardening hat…I take it my reputation lives on?"

Liir recalled the museum, the dolls, the stories.

"A little."

"I see," Elphaba said with a neutral expression, not looking up from her plant. "So I'm still discussed quite often."

"I mean…really only around Melting Day."

"Melting Day?" Elphaba looked up.

"The annual holiday to commemorate…" Liir cleared his throat. "Um…"

"My death?" Elphaba filled in for him.

Liir was quiet for a moment.

"Yeah."

"A celebration."

"…Yes."

Elphaba pressed her lips in a tight line. She glanced away and stared forward as she processed the news. After a moment she pulled back her sleeve to spare a glance at her watch.

"It'd be coming up then."

"I'm sorry if—"

Elphaba held up a hand to stop him.

"I'll hear no apologies that are not owed," Elphaba scolded. "Besides in a way it's flattering. Such remembrance is merely confirmation of my own power. A single celebration throughout Oz is one thing…but an annual one?"

Elphaba returned her attention to her plant with an unreadable expression.

"Even I couldn't have foreseen that."

Liir watched her work for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I'll admit," Elphaba spoke up. "I'm a touch surprised that The Wizard hasn't created a new boogeyman by now. My reign was notable to be sure, but after so long a time—"

"Oh, The Wizard left."

Elphaba stopped her work and slowly turned her head towards Liir.

"He…left?"

"Yes?"

"When?" Elphaba pressed.

"A long time ago I think," Liir shrugged. "I did a group project on him once in school. I can't remember exactly—"

"Try."

"I mean I'm pretty sure he left when Dorothy did," Liir said. "Right around your—well. Right around Melting Day."

"Well!" Fiyero's voice called from the front of the house. "Looks like Elphaba's not the only one with a green thumb around here!"

Liir looked up to see him strolling towards the garden wearing a pair of sunglasses. He took a casual seat on the ground beside Elphaba who still appeared stunned.

"What were you two talking about?" Fiyero asked.

"The Wizard left," Elphaba said faintly.

"Huh?"

Elphaba looked at Fiyero.

"Liir said so. The Wizard left."

"Left Oz?"

"Yes."

"What about Madame Morrible?" Fiyero asked.

"Who?" Liir frowned.

Elphaba gave her head a small shake.

"I don't believe it."

"Well good riddance," Fiyero said, slinging his arm around Elphaba's shoulder. "Right Fae?"

"He left…" Elphaba repeated yet again. She snapped her attention back to Liir. "What about the Animals? Tell me about the Animals."

"What about them?"

"Did you have Animals as classmates? As teachers?"

"Yes?"

"And do they speak?" Elphaba pressed.

"Of course," Liir gave her a funny look. "Why? Should they not?"

Elphaba got very quiet.

"Have I said something wrong?"

"No, Liir. Of course not," Fiyero jumped in. "But you should know—"

Elphaba gave Fiyero a look.

"Must you dredge up my past, Yero?"

"I think he should know what you're responsible for!"

"I did not do what I did for attention and applause."

"And you never got any!" Fiyero pointed out. "Liir, Oz has your mother to thank for—"

"Oh sweet Oz," Elphaba muttered, pulling her hat over her eyes.

"—Animal rights. That was her whole thing. That's why she did everything she did."

"What?" Liir furrowed his brow. "I never knew that."

"Surprise, surprise," Elphaba sighed, uncovering her eyes. "Tell me, Liir. What motive did Oz create for The Witch's deeds?"

Liir furrowed his brow for a long moment. He could recall lots of facts about The Witch. Plenty of what and when and how…but for the life of him, he couldn't remember anyone ever providing a why.

"Wickedness for…wickedness's sake?" Liir said slowly.

Perhaps it was his current distance from Oz, or the details he was piecing together about Elphaba day by day, but the things Liir had grown up believing were starting to feel a little sillier. A little flimsier. Right down to the old adage that Liir so often saw on decorative signs and needlepoint pillows. Nothing grows for the wicked. Yet here he sat in an abundant garden tended to by the wickedest witch Oz had ever known.

"Yes, that sounds right," Elphaba snorted over Liir's answer. "Leave it to Oz to lack the creativity to at least come up with an interesting lie."

"Elphaba, you deserve to feel proud of what you did," Fiyero said. "Oz got better—"

"After I left it?" Elphaba snapped at him. "Yes, I very much agree that it did. Sounds like a joyous place to be with its museums and annual Melting Day."

Fiyero shot Liir a questioning glance.

"What's all this?"

"There's a museum about me, Fiyero. Close to two decades later and they're still obsessed."

"The Hall of Wickedness," Liir confirmed. "It—"

"And they put my poor broom on display!" Elphaba complained. "I hate to think of her all cooped up with the ruddy masses ogling at her."

"Look on the bright side, Fae. People are still scared of you!" Fiyero said, tucking some hair behind her ear. "That always made you happy in the past."

"I guess," Elphaba pouted.

"So…" Fiyero looked expectantly at Liir. "What do they say about me?"

Liir straightened up.

"Oh—"

"I mean Oz loves their scandals and…" Fiyero chuckled cockily. "I'm as scandalacious as it gets."

Liir snorted.

"What?" Fiyero asked.

"Oh…I'm sorry," Liir said, realizing he'd been rude. "I thought you were joking."

"About what?"

"I've just never heard anyone say the word 'scandalacious' before."

"What?" Fiyero frowned. "People don't say that anymore?"

"I mean, not…unironically."

"Ironically?!" Fiyero complained. "No—no that was slang you had to know back when—"

"Your age is showing, my love," Elphaba grinned, amused by Fiyero's reaction. She ran her fingers through his graying hair. "Losing your touch with the youth, are we?"

"I am not!" Fiyero argued, swatting Elphaba's hand away. "I may not be young but I'm still swankified!"

Fiyero caught the look on Liir's face.

"Don't tell me swankified is out too…"

Liir winced and nodded.

"Okay, well…who cares?" Fiyero scoffed, adjusting his sunglasses. "Not me. I couldn't care less."

"Well I do! Say more," Elphaba egged Liir on with a wicked grin. "How do they remember Fiyero in Oz?"

"I mean—" Liir beat around the bush. "I hadn't really…you know."

"Hadn't really what?" Fiyero asked.

"Heard of you?" Liir admitted sheepishly. Fiyero's mouth fell open. "Much! I hadn't heard much."

"You hadn't heard of me?" Fiyero said. "But I was a prince! I was engaged to Glinda the Good! I ran off with The Wicked Witch of the West!"

"I mean, yeah. That part was mentioned in the museum," Liir said. "A little bit."

"See, Yero? You made the museum," Elphaba rubbed his shoulder. "I'm so proud of you."

"What do you mean a little bit?" Fiyero prodded.

"Well there was an exhibit about The Wicked Witch," Liir nodded towards Elphaba. "And there was a…display for you too."

"One? Only one display?"

"Yeah…"

"Did they choose a good picture of me at least?"

Liir remembered the cardboard cutout with a burlap sack over its head.

"Uh…"

"Unbelievable. Unbelievable! Elphaba do you hear that? You got an entire exhibit and I got nothing!"

"You got one display," Elphaba reminded him before sweetly kissing his cheek. "And you got me."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I guess," Fiyero grumbled.

"I don't think it's that people don't remember you!" Liir said, still looking for ways to perk Fiyero up. He never thought he'd be comforting someone over not being featured in a hall of infamy. "I was told that your parents had like a gag order on stuff about you for awhile. But now that they've passed more stuff has started to come out and—"

"Wait…sorry…" Fiyero cut Liir off.

"What?"

Fiyero was stiff and quiet for a moment.

"My parents died?"

Liir slowly closed his mouth, dread spilling over him as he took in Fiyero's expression.

"Oh…um…" Liir mumbled.

"Do you know when? How?" Fiyero asked.

Liir tried to remember but shook his head in regret.

"I'm sorry, I don't. I just remember hearing that it happened. I didn't know who they were at the time—I mean to you. To me too…I guess. I—I—"

Liir reddened as he rambled. He felt incredibly stupid to drop such a bombshell on Fiyero so carelessly. So thoughtlessly.

"Fiyero, I—" Liir said weakly. "I'm sorry—"

"Hush, you," Elphaba hissed at Liir before looking towards Fiyero. "Yero…"

"It's fine, Fae," Fiyero said quickly. He managed a smile and a shrug towards Liir. "Don't pay it any mind, Liir. It's not like—" Fiyero rubbed his jaw. "I mean…it's not like we were close."

Elphaba opened her mouth to speak but Fiyero got to his feet before she could.

"You know, my errands this morning kind of gave me a headache," Fiyero knocked a hand against the side of his head before nodding towards the house. "I think I'll kick back for an hour."

Elphaba closed her eyes as Fiyero swept off towards the shack without another word. Liir was silent, nauseated with guilt.

"I…I…" Liir mumbled, unsure of what to say to Elphaba. "I wasn't thinking—"

"No you certainly were not."

Elphaba's tone was biting. Accusatory. Any progress Liir felt he'd been making quickly melted under her daggered stare.

"I didn't mean to."

"Yes, life is full of I didn't mean tos, isn't it?"

She stood and turned to stalk away from him. Liir bristled.

"Why do you still wear that thing anyway?" Liir said tensely.

Elphaba turned.

"What?"

"The hat," Liir narrowed his eyes.

Elphaba planted her hands on her hips.

"It keeps the sun off my face. Why?"

"No reason," Liir muttered. "Whatever."

"No, please. Do go on," Elphaba challenged. "If you have something to say then say it."

"That hat is a symbol of wickedness!"

"This hat is just a hat! Why should it be held responsible for the horrors people project onto it?"

Elphaba tugged it off of her head and tossed it towards Liir who flinched.

"See for yourself."

Liir hesitated before warily picking the hat up. He turned it over a few times in his hands. It was old and seemed to have been mended and patched in a few places. After his investigation, Liir concluded that Elphaba was right. Though it was the symbol of terror in Oz, the garment itself was only that.

A hat.

"If it's really just a hat…" Liir said, handing it back up to Elphaba. "Why did you keep it for so long?"

Elphaba looked down at the hat in her hands.

"It was a gift."

That was all she said on that. She turned to walk away but stopped in her tracks, turning to look thoughtfully back at Liir.

"You ask a great many questions Liir," Elphaba pointed out, giving Liir an appraising look. "When you return to Oz…keep asking them."

Elphaba turned and circled around the house to go inside. Liir sighed in puzzled frustration.

Elphaba's less than forthcoming nature made it so that Liir had to loosely piece her together from Glinda's photograph, Fiyero's adoration, and the niceties she showed to people other than him. Then of course, there was the museum to consider as well. The history textbooks. Oz.

Yes, it was as she said. Liir had a great many questions for Oz…but they paled in comparison to the great many questions he still had for her. So Liir sat in the soil, hopelessly confused, attempting to unravel his new riddles. At the end of the day he just wanted to know one thing.

Was Elphaba a good witch or a bad witch? A good person or a wicked one? Liir, for the life of him, could not comfortably classify her in either category.

Could she be neither? Could she be both? Was that even a thing that could happen?

And whatever she was…what ever did that mean about him?