Chapter Text
Jedi Master Elphaba Arduenna exits the lecture hall within the aged, nearly decrepit Jedi Temple. As she walks past fellow Jedi and Rebels, she goes over her lecture on the Living Force, making sure she hasn't missed any bullet points. Students greet her with enthusiastic smiles and waves, all of which she finds difficult to return, even after all this time.
The only smile she sees is the plastic, saccharine smile of Princess Galinda Arduenna as she gazes upon the crowd of adoring subjects. It’s a smile that haunts her in nightmares and waking hours, the woman it belongs to appearing in shadows and the edges of her vision.
A haunting, surely.
It’s something she avoids talking about during her sessions with Mara.
“Master Arduenna!” A familiar voice calls out, stopping her in her tracks. She smiles just a bi when Trism rushes up to her with an eager smile. Like Liir, he’s sprouted up during these last twelve months, nearly standing at her chest level. Manek, as always, stands like a scowling sentinel behind him—a boy now on the cusp of manhood, nearly as tall as her.
As she ruffles Trism’s dark chocolate hair, she looks past Manek to seek out Nor. Not finding her, or Liir, she glances down at Trism again with a tight smile. “Where are Liir and Nor?”
Trism’s smile falters for just a second as he peers over his shoulder at Manek, who only scowls deeper.
The memory of their first meeting all those months ago rushes back to her with a start.
————————
One year ago…
Their escape from the Emeralt had been hectic to say the least. Stormtroopers, dressed in black and green, awaited them at the hangar. Elphaba had thrown the unconscious Liir over her shoulder, igniting her dual blade with one hand and the borrowed darksaber with her other as she began deflecting bolt after bolt.
Rage and loss fueled her actions. She knew she shouldn’t let such Darkness guide her but how could she fight against such anguish? She needed to escape with her son, by any means necessary. Galinda was sacrificing her body and soul for them, and Elphaba couldn’t let that be in vain. If they were caught…
She didn’t want to think about it.
So, she didn’t.
The Jedi Master carved through squad after squad, finally unleashing her true power as she disappeared into green smoke, reappearing less than a second later as emerald fire erupted from her body, setting several Troopers aflame. They screamed behind their masks. There was no mercy to be found, even as her enemies began to flee.
No mercy. Only a cold-blooded killing.
Elphaba would not let them take her boy, too. They had Galinda—her Galinda, her true Galinda.
She would die before they took Liir again.
Panting, the Jedi Master stood in the center of a circle of corpses, some severed in half, others beheaded, while even more died slowly from the unnatural emerald flames melting their suits into their flesh.
No mercy.
She ran onto the ship, setting Liir down in the copilot chair and strapping his still unconscious body in.
The ship was quickly searched. Elphaba reached out through the Force to find any potential tracking devices, crushing them under the weight of her distant fist as she did so. No one would follow. Not this time.
More Troopers stormed into the private hangar bay, followed by several Inquisitors. Thankfully she didn’t recognize any of them. But they wouldn’t get far. Elphaba unleashed the laser cannons and self-targeting guns, turning their entrances into craters filled with dismembered limbs.
No mercy.
Pulling out of the hangar just as the doors began to close, she immediately sent the ship into lightspeed to avoid the tractor beam. The coordinates she put in weren’t random but they weren’t the ones she wanted, either.
Not yet.
She arrived in the Glikkus System first, then she put in the true coordinates for Ovvel in the Oliverarious System: the last Rebel base.
An escort appeared around her—two x-wings. Elphaba knew their frequency by heart, and input it to open up a line of communication. “This is Jedi Master Elphaba Arduenna, requesting permission to land.”
Neither of the pilots responded. Rather, it was Locasta herself, her voice full of relief and barely repressed emotion. “Permission granted. Welcome home, Master Jedi.”
Once she landed, she carried her son past Chistery and Tibbett. Past the familiar and unfamiliar allies, avoiding the eye of everyone as she went.
Nor stood off to the side with the Yellowgages, her expression hopeful, though that slowly shattered when she noticed Elphaba with only Liir, and the extinguished darksaber at her side.
The Jedi Master mentally cursed herself. She didn’t want to, but as Locasta approached, she wordlessly handed Liir over, murmuring as if from far away. “He needs to be treated for lightsaber burns and electrocution.”
Locasta simply nodded, her gaze darting around expectantly. Elphaba knew instantly who she was looking for: Milla.
Except Milla wasn’t coming home.
Others were bypassed as she walked over to Nor, only to collapse to her knees. Nor bent down as though to comfort her, so Elphaba pulled the girl into her arms. She didn’t know who cried first, only that the tears came and refused to stop. The Yellowgages soon knelt as well, wrapping their arms about not just Nor but Elphaba.
“I’m sorry, Nor. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect her,” Elphaba wept, unclipping the darksaber and handing it to her. “Now you are the heir to Mandalore.”
The girl didn’t take it at first. Not until Mizu, one of Milla’s most loyal Yellowgages, clasped a hand on her shoulder. “She’d want you to have it, Norry.”
Taking that as permission, Nor grabbed the blade and held the heavy weight in her hands.
It wasn’t until days later that Manek and Nor met, the two accidentally seeking each other out. As soon as they were together, both Locasta and Elphaba immediately noticed. There was no doubt Manek was Fiyero and Sarima’s child. The boy was the very picture of Sarima, though his features were less soft, and Nor was Fiyero’s daughter through and through, though the angles of her face were more rounded. Elphaba didn’t know how she could’ve missed the connection; their Force signatures were nearly identical.
“How could you have known, Elphaba? You were in the middle of saving his life, and protecting your own. They’ve met now, and that’s all we can do. The rest is up to them,” Locasta comforted them.
Because Manek and Nor did not get along.
“Why does she get the darksaber?” he’d argued with Elphaba, glaring up at her while Nor glared at him. “She was Milla’s student, Manek. Milla would’ve—”
“But what about me?” the boy muttered, his face flushed with anger, and something else.
Elphaba placed a hand on his shoulder, the muscle stiffening under her touch, but he didn’t shrug her off as he so often did with others. “You will craft your own saber. Locasta has been protecting your crystal, as she has all of the new Jedi’s crystals. And when you’re ready, yours will call to you.”
Manek hadn’t taken that well, throwing one last glare at Nor as he ran off.
At least Trism and Liir had bonded quickly. Nor also took a liking to him, though due to Manek constantly shadowing the boy, she didn’t often get time with him.
It had taken days for Liir to awaken after the damage done to his brain, and a woman named Mara Nephri eventually took over the healing.
“You’re Mara?” Elphaba inquired hesitantly during the first healing session, cautious and protective of her boy and wary of this new woman.
Chistery pulled her aside and explained who she was. “Mara was already leading a revolt when she arrived at Runci’bel. The reconditioning didn't work on her. You should ask her more, but I do know she can be trusted. She saved my life.”
So, she introduced herself to the redheaded woman. “Yes, I’m Mara Nephir,” the woman replied, her long titian hair pulled back into an ornate plait. The designs in her hair, all gold and turquoise, signified she was from Hapes, a partially oceanic planet whose lineage was matriarchal in nature; a line of warrior women.
“And who exactly are you?” Elphaba asked, all skepticism and raised hackles as she stood vigil by her son’s side.
The woman wasn’t thrown off at all by the Jedi Master’s suspicions. She simply began preparing a bowl of freshly collected herbs to be ground down. “I am a former Hapien. I abdicated the throne when the Jedi collected me. Though, you wouldn’t have seen me around the Temple.”
That seemed rather convenient to Elphaba, which of course Mara seemed to sense. “I was one of the few nomadic Jedi. During the Clone Wars I was charged with a similar task to you, preserving and collecting Jedi knowledge and history.”
“Then why did I never run into you?” Elphaba countered as she moved to stand between Liir and Mara.
“You are quite distrustful of a fellow Jedi, Master… Arduenna, wasn’t it? Interesting last name…” Elphaba realized she was being taunted in return, and her own suspicions returned to her through the Force. “I seem to remember hearing of an Arduenna who serves the Empire, yet here you are with the same last name and no blonde hair or blue eyes to speak of.”
“Fine…yes, she is…the closest thing to a wife I have. She’s the mother of our boy here.” Elphaba nodded to Liir, crossing her arms over her chest as she took on a defensive, protective stance. “She stayed behind so we could escape.”
“Escape where?” The question was blunt, yet severed Elphaba sharply.
Elphaba hadn’t even told the full story yet to Locasta, still grappling with the events. But she felt that it was important to do so now. That this woman was important.
‘Listen to the Force, my young Padawan. You must learn to trust again.’ Her Master’s voice filled her head, and now she knew it was real, true. He was here, still guiding her.
“We escaped from the Emperor’s ship, The Emeralt. Our son, Liir, he…he…Kriff…” Elphaba rubbed a hand over her head and collapsed into the chair by the bed.
Within a seconds Mara was there, placing a cool rag on the back of her neck. “Don’t push yourself, Master Jedi. I can sense your inner turmoil. Do not feed it but release it. Tell me,” the Hapien woman requested in a patient, more gentle voice than Elphaba expected.
Elphaba sighed, both in relief from the coolness on her neck and the woman’s calm, soothing words. She realized that Mara was manipulating the Force around and within her, easing the tension and pain within her body and mind. “You’re a Jedi Healer?” She couldn’t help asking.
Mara nodded. “Yes, I didn’t just travel to preserve our culture. I visited poorer planets, struggling villages and healed the sick, helped where I could, whether it was finding wells of water or fixing roofs. I wanted to represent what the Jedi should be, which is why…you didn’t see me during the Clone Wars. I refused to fight.”
Guilt seeped into Elphaba but it was siphoned out almost immediately by the healer. “I was a Master, too. And if you let me, I’ll heal your boy. But first tell me what happened.”
And so she did. She told this new ally about how her son was tempted by the Dark Side and how he failed such a test, striking down the Emperor in a rush of anger and hate. She told her how Galinda had come to the Light, how she had saved them, how she had become the very Light itself, saving her family from Darth Vulturis.
She told her everything from Galinda’s sins to Milla’s death. She couldn’t explain why but the woman kneeling before her felt trustworthy—felt true. She was unlike any Jedi she’d met.
“You’ve been through a lot. If you let me, I can help you too. As you can tell, I don’t just heal the body but the mind as well. I can sense the cracks within you from the stress and trauma. I can see how the Dark Side seeks to fill those fractures. I can feel them in your boy, too. So let me help. Do I have your permission to continue healing Liir?”
The question was asked in earnest, and she took Elphaba’s hands in hers, squeezing them to ground her in this moment.
How could Elphaba refuse such an offer now? She nodded slowly. “Yes. Please save him.”
Mara offered a kind smile, and nodded back. “And will you let me heal you as well, Master Jedi?”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding again. Then the healer did something unexpected: she let go of one of her hands and placed it on Elphaba's stomach. “Good, because you have another little one on the way. You will need to be strong in mind and body for them.”
Elphaba fainted.
When Elphaba awoke, Liir was awake and doing introductory physical therapy with Mara. She found them in another room, Mara clapping as the boy succeeded in walking unaided. She called out to Liir, who only turned and glared at her, saying nothing as he looked away.
And it continued like that for the rest of the year—even after Sola was born.
Sola Kwon Arduenna, named after her lost Padawan.
Her first daughter.
————————
Present day…
“Trism, where are Nor and my son?” Elphaba asks again, crossing her arms over her chest as she glances at Manek, who avoids her gaze. “Did you all get into a fight again?”
The smaller boy offers a shaky smile. “N-nothing like that, Master Arduenna. Weeeeell…I mean, we kinda did and didn’t. You see, what happened was Manek wanted to duel Nor for the darksaber again but she didn’t wanna so they got into an argument. And then Liir got mad at Manek for acting like that so they dueled and Liir won! Yay woohoo! But that made Manek mad and Nor was rubbing it in his face—”
Elphaba raises her hand, cutting him off. “Thank you Trism, for the detailed report. But where is he? He missed the lecture on the Living Force.”
Trism shuffles nervously, eyes twitching from side to side. Manek finally steps forward, dark face pinched and glaring. “They’re smoking ‘bush in his treehouse,” he admits indelicately, huffing as he looks toward Trism.
“Manek! Don’t you remember what Nor said? Snitches get stitches! I don’t wanna get stitches!” Trism bemoans dramatically, hands on his face as he practically shouts to the ceiling.
“Alright, alright thank you. You both may go but once again I need all of you to stop these unauthorized sparring matches. You’re all still novices with the training sabers, let alone your actual blades. They’re not toys. Your weapon is—”
“Your life!” Trism cuts her off with an overeager grin. “Your weapon is your life! See, I remembered, Master Arduenna!”
With a heavy sigh that holds the weight of being a parent for too many kids, Elphaba rubs a hand down her face. “Yes, thank you, Trism. F only you could apply that knowledge. After your biology lesson with Master Skul’ley, I want you both to clean the latrines on base and in the Temple. Aht-aht-aht! I don’t want to hear any complaints,” she finishes, holding up a hand to head off any arguments.
“After you complete your chores you may find Dorthea and Ozma. But only after, and I want to see your notes later. Am I clear, boys?” Her stern gaze still doesn’t feel natural, and even after all this time she still doesn’t feel like she fits into the maternal role the kids have all assigned her.
Instead of adopting them they’ve adopted me, she thinks tiredly to herself with another sigh.
“Crystal clear, Master!” Trism replies with a little salute that’s on the wrong side of his head.
But she doesn’t have the heart—or energy—to correct him so she just nods. “And keep Manek in line.”
To that, the older boy scowls.
“Sir, yes sir!” Trism responds before grabbing his friend and dragging him away.
Smoking avabush with Nor, again. Mara really needs to keep her garden better guarded. I’ll talk to her later when I pick up Sola.
Elphaba had realized early on with Liir that being a mother and a Master is a thankless job. Though it’s sometimes rewarded. Not often but enough to keep her going.
The Jedi Master leaves the Temple after dodging more students and Masters, exiting out into the warm sun of Settika.
Elphaba still believes it’s risky setting up shop in the Glikkus system but Locasta had made a fair point:
“We’ll be right under the Empire’s nose. After their raid on Frottikus, they’ll never think to look here.”
It doesn’t hurt that Settika is different from Gillikin and Perf’ura, heavily forested, which hides the Temple and connects to the Rebel base well. That and the cloaking technology the Yellowgages managed to find on Mandaloria keeps them well hidden. It’s still risky, in Elphaba’s opinion, with all the ships coming and going, even if many have their own cloaking technology and the rest are disguised as freighters or civilian transports.
The familiar Corellian ship is coming in, no doubt Chistery and Tibbett at the helm. She immediately notices more wear and tear, and a small amount of worry clouds her mind as she thinks of every scenario that could’ve happened and how easily things could go wrong.
Maybe I should take up avabush too.
She looks past the ship as she comes to the edge of a heavily wooded area, her eyes catching on the distant, shining fleck in the sky that is Per’fura. Elphaba can’t help but wonder if Galinda is there, ruling over her new people like she’d always dreamed of. Yet, Elphaba knows her sweet no longer dreams of such things. She left those girlish dreams behind the day she became a Jedi.
It’s a cruel punishment for Galinda that she doesn’t…and does deserve.
Elphaba still struggles to come to terms with Galinda’s crimes; all the people she killed.
…Milla. She took Milla from me. From Nor.
But still, she can’t turn away or find it within her to hate Galinda…or Viosa. Whoever she is now, Elphaba will never be able to turn her back on her.
Which is why she’s been in so much pain since that day. Their connection has been shuttered on Galinda’s end. Not for lack of trying on Elphaba’s part. No, she tries every day whenever she’s alone. Yet, her lover…her partner, her best friend never responds to her call.
Galinda…where are you?
Predictably, Galinda doesn’t answer.
So she keeps moving, casting her eyes away from the glinting planet lightyears away.
Liir’s treehouse is something he and Nor built with the help of Chistery—a rinky dink little thing that only fits two people but it is set high up in the thick trees, carved partially into the wide trunks of two trees.
Even from down here she smells the sour smoke, and waves a hand to both clear her nose and pull the rolled up ladder down so she can climb up. She won’t fit all the way, of course, but she can still poke her head up.
Hopefully it’s enough to perhaps murder her delinquent son and adopted niece.
Niece? Daughter? Maybe we should all sit down and have a conversation about family roles. Or I could ask Mara to teach it during her sociology classes.
Predictably, they’re still smoking when her head appears through the hatch. Liir even accidentally (or so she hopes) blows the smoke towards the entry just as her head pops up. She immediately waves her hand, unashamed to use the Force in such a menial way. “Liir, what did I say about smoking? You’re not even a teenager yet. And you,” she turns her attention to Nor, “should know better than to set such a bad example.”
The duo just stare at her, unimpressed as always.
“Sorry, Master. I was just taking a page outta your book and running from my problems,” Liir drawls sarcastically. The insult lands heavily, and Elphaba flinches as she always does when forcibly reminded of how she’d left Galinda behind.
At least Nor has the decency to look properly chastised (if only for a moment), even if she still smokes unapologetically. She blows the smoke out of the window instead of at her head and remains silent as she cocks her head to the side and stares defiantly back. After Milla, Nor hasn’t said a word to Elphaba. And Elphaba can’t blame her. She hadn’t been able to save Milla and instead watched her die in the most horrific way imaginable at the hands of the love of her life.
An action she can’t reconcile with Galinda, and one she just can’t move past. Maybe that’s why Galinda cut off contact.
“Liir, if you have an issue I told you we can talk and have Mara mediate—”
Her son, looking more like a teenager everyday with his shaved blonde hair, cuts her off. “Yeah, well, what if I don’t wanna talk, Master?”
He doesn’t call her ‘Mama’ anymore. Not even ‘Mother.’ It’s always ‘Master’ in that same petulant tone.
She’ll even take her name at this point.
“Liir Arduenna—”
“Don’t call me that!” Liir yells, the treehouse shaking all around them with the force of his anger.
Oh, here come the dramatics.
“Alright, you leave me with no choice. I’m going to ask Chistery to disassemble this treehouse. I am literally grounding you. Not just for stealing from Mara’s garden and smoking an illegal substance meant for adults, but also for unauthorized sparring.”
Before Liir can argue, his lightsaber is summoned into her hand, clipped to her belt. “Don’t make me drag you both down,” Elphaba warns, her temper once again rising up from the heavy pit in her stomach.
Then she glances at Nor. “I am disappointed in you but…I am proud that you didn’t give in to your brother’s goading. I’ve already spoken with him and he’ll be cleaning the latrines in the Temple and base.” She pauses to consider the two, then adds, “I want you both to apologize to Master Nephri, return whatever is left, then tell her she is to give you some chores to do. After that, if I don’t see you catching up on what you both missed, Nor, I’ll take your saber as well, and Liir, I will keep yours for three weeks and ban you from sparring until I give your weapon back.”
The kids glare at her, arms crossed over their chest as the joints they rolled flicker out. Elphaba snatches her hand in the air and summons them before the kids can relight, stuffing them into her pocket and cringing at the stench.
It’ll be all over her for the rest of the day.
At least she’s just going home to relieve Mara of baby duty.
“If I don’t see you two with Mara within the next thirty minutes I will make good on my threats. Am I understood?” She hates having to be the bad guy. It feels like oil over her skin. She misses her sweet boy and wonders if he’ll ever come back like Galinda did. Nor doesn’t argue like Liir, which is a blessing as much as a curse.
Liir huffs and glances away. “Fine.”
Nor simply nods and glares at the floor.
“Wonderful. Then I’ll see you both for dinner.” And with that the Jedi Master drops down from the treehouse, landing easily on the ground.
Their home isn’t far from the treehouse. It’s a wooden cabin on the outside with some decent tech on the inside, and big enough for all four kids, two adults, and a baby, though she catches Trism in Liir’s room often enough it might as well be his, too.
When do I need to have ‘The Talk’ with them?
Maybe I can coerce Mara into it. I’m sure she has books she can show them.
But the boys don’t do more than cuddle and hold hands. Elphaba isn’t even sure if they thought about those things yet. Or what if they really are just friends?
Being a single mother isn't something she’d wish on her worst enemy. Except maybe Galinda.
You should be here with us. You’d be the fun parent, sneaking the kids candy, playing pranks on us…
Holding Sola, helping to raise her, teaching Liir about romance. Telling Nor and Manek stories of Fiyero and Sarima. Maybe if you were here you’d be able to help bridge that gap.
It’s wishful thinking—a fantasy she often imagines when being a mother gets to be too much. Because Galinda wouldn’t do any of those things now. Perhaps the Galinda before that night but now…?
Now, she doesn’t know what Galinda would do. She’s a stranger Elphaba knows intimately, on every level one can know a person, and yet she has no idea how she’d weather the storm that is motherhood.
Still, Elphaba likes to hope because if she doesn’t…the shadows in her room at night whisper doubts and seductive thoughts in her ear. She finally understands how easy it is to be tempted by such toxic feelings—how good and cathartic it feels to unleash one’s anger.
She also wonders what would’ve become of Galinda had Elphaba met Mara sooner.
Walking through the door, she immediately spots Mara sitting with Sola in the crook of one arm while reading from an actual, physical book. Clearly Elphaba is interrupting story time. Sola, much more like herself, listens despite only being a few months old.
“...and then Jedi Knight Liir Laerian met his future wife, Daesi Rid’ly on a diplomacy mission to Alderaan. The two start out as friends but their love for one another blossoms and becomes too big to ignore. And on one fateful day, Daesi proposed to Liir and begged him to leave the Order. She was with child and wanted to start a family somewhere peaceful, somewhere the Jedi—”
The older redheaded woman pauses when she notices Elphaba enter, offering her a calm but tired smile.
The fellow Jedi Master is quick to hand off Sola, giving her a small peck on the head. “I was just telling her about Liir’s namesake. Not sure how much of it she picked up but it’s always good to talk to them like they understand,” Mara explains with that same tired smile that always makes her jade eyes hang low. She’s overworked, Elphaba knows that, but it’s unavoidable until they manage to promote more Padawans to Knights and more Knights to Masters. Right now it’s only the three women with Ozma, Dorthea, and Toto often assisting as newly graduated Knights.
“You have my ever growing gratitude, Mara,” Elphaba thanks her with an exhausted grin. She kisses her daughter’s cheek, tickling her a little to make the babe giggle. “Are you happy to see Mama? Were you good for Auntie Mara?”
Of course a baby can’t answer these questions so Sola just laughs again. Her cheeks are a richer green than her brother’s, not quite as dark as Elphaba’s but much darker than Liir’s. And even with her small, much more subtle horns she looks exactly like Galinda, down to her rosy cheeks, cherubic features, and tufts of golden hair. And unlike Liir, she has her sweet’s eyes, those crystal clear, sky blue irises…and that dimple, that same lopsided dimple.
Even with her lighter emerald skin and horns, she looks so much like Galinda that sometimes it hurts to look at her.
Mara watches mother and daughter with an almost wistful smile before it slowly turns downwards. “What is it?”
Always too perceptive for her own good.
Elphaba doesn’t even try to argue, caving immediately. “The kids got into your garden again. They’re going to come sulking to you and I need you to punish them to make up for it.”
The older woman stares at Elphaba, unimpressed, and crosses her thin arms over her chest. She tosses back her ornate plait to do so, the gesture always reminding her of Galinda.
Always Galinda.
“Avabush is harmless, Elphaba. The children are still processing their grief and anger in the only way they know how that isn’t harmful to others. You know I give it to my patients during sessions to help them relax. It’s medicinal,” Mara argues placidly, as she so often does. She’s almost always high off her ass on ‘bush,’ though, so this makes sense. Somehow she still manages to function like a fully matured adult, which is lucky for Elphaba since she won’t leave her youngest with a drunk.
“It’s fine for adults, sure. But as you’ve so often told me, these years are crucial to brain development—”
Mara raises a hand to interrupt, looking a little embarrassed. “Okay, using my own words against me is low. I’ll make them shovel manure, how about that?”
Elphaba nods slowly as she rocks the baby, who’s beginning to fuss in her arms. “Do we still have some milk left in the conservator? I really don’t feel like letting her drink from the source after being around that rank weed.”
“It’s not rank weed, it’s avabush—”
“Mara, I do not need your pedantics right now.” Elphaba sighs as she moves past the woman.
“But yes, we do. I’ll heat some up for you. Why don’t you take Sola into the other room and try and relax with her,” Mara suggests in that stern, almost maternal tone she affects so often. It’s different from Locasta’s warmer and teasing tone. It’s colder but no less affectionate. They’re just two very different women.
As Elphaba makes her way into the living room she’s suddenly struck with the urge to walk back outside. And there, up above them as it always is, orbits Perf’ura.
“Do you think your momsie is there, Sol? I can’t wait for you to meet her…and for her to meet you…” She can’t help the yearning in her voice, her mind dipping into that fantasy of Galinda coming home to a peaceful life where war no longer exists…or if it does, it’s far, far away.
Galinda, where are you my sweet?