What could she do?
She wanted one thing and one thing only: forgiveness. She hadn't come here to become Sarima's personal scapegoat. There was nothing she could do. Sarima didn't want to hear about dearly departed Fiyero.
If I could be with you somehow, I would say I'm sorry. If I could see you now…
Sarima only stared at her now. The words Elphaba longed to say were locked in her mouth, crushing between her teeth. "Sarima-"
"I said no!" she cried, glaring.
Like two tigresses, they glared at each other, standing their ground. Elphaba could feel her hope dissolving inside of her, all of her previous digressions fleeing from her green body.
Why had she even tried?
Maybe she should wait. Maybe Sarima would be ready to hear the truth spoken from Elphaba's worthless lips. She doubted it….But maybe she could convince her, somehow.
Elphaba was weakening over the years. Her days melded into months, and those into years….She stayed. She stayed in the hope that Sarima would one day give in. She never would. Elphaba was not willing to accept that.
You're so stupid, there's nothing in your head, Sweet Oz, how I wish you were dead.
Abandoned, broken and bleeding, Elphaba waited. She didn't realize that over the years, Sarima slowly settled the blame on Elphaba's shoulders -- she needed someone to blame for her husband's murder -- turning her into her scapegoat. A murder of the forsaken, a scapegoat for her suffering.
Kinda sucky? Thoughts, please?