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“Just a bit to the right up here,” she directed, speaking loudly over the wind and Feldspur’s pounding hooves.
Following her instructions, they stopped on the edge of a small clearing between the tall trees. She loosened her grip around his waist, dismantling the Horse and hitting the ground with a soft thud. She started towards the trees, stepping through the magical barrier she had created, which shimmered like a heat haze in the setting sunlight. It wasn’t much, maybe 50 feet in diameter, but it was enough to keep her protected.
She heard his feet land on the ground, his footsteps following close behind her.
“Will I go up in flames if I go through this?” He asked, gesturing at the veil between them.
He asked it casually enough, but Elphaba realized this was, in a way, him asking for permanent permission to stay with her. To cross over into this piece of her life that, despite everything they had been through the past five years, she had kept guarded.
They had faced similar crossroads before – a variant of this discussion each of the half dozen times they had crossed paths. He never made it a secret that he wanted to help her in any way he could. He had been ready and willing to leave with her, if she would have him, from the first time he had found her.
But it had been too soon, too fast, too many important things she would not allow him to leave behind.
And yet, she rationalized, that it was still too soon, too fast, and the things (and people) he was running away from were more important than ever before. Still, they had come all this way, and it was getting dark. She shook her head dismissively, waved her hand to create a fissure in the magic to let him through.
She watched him as he walked to the center of the clearing, his eyes scanning the small area before looking up at the makeshift home she had created for herself in the trees.
“Makes for a quick getaway, I assume?” He asked, “You’d get away before they climb up?”
The adrenaline was melting away, she realized with a deep breath, her body registering that she was no longer in danger. But, she was vaguely aware that one anxiety had been replaced with another. Fiyero had once been one of the people she felt the safest around, someone she knew she could rely on.
Now, almost instinctively, it felt as if all that progress had been wiped from her system. Her walls were closing around her, annoyance and an unusual sort of anger flickering in her chest.
She nodded. “Something like that.”
She turned away from him, taking her bag off her shoulder and setting it at the base of the tree. She leaned against it, twisting her fingers and stared fixedly at his shoes.
He took off his Guard jacket, dropping it thoughtlessly in the dirt by his feet.
“So,” he started, “last time, you were headed to put a stop to some protests, if I recall correctly.” He paused, clearly hoping for a response, urging her a little more when she did not answer. “How has it been…since then?”
She sighed. “There have been many protests, and many trips across Oz. Very little of it has mattered.”
“Now, that can’t be true. It has mattered very much, what you’ve done.”
She shook her head, not wishing for him to tell her sweet nothings.
“And you? You’ve certainly been very busy, I’ve heard.” Her eyes finally flicked up to his. “Are ‘congragulotions’ still in order?” She heard the sharpness in her voice, wished she could stop the defensive shield going up. But he was being irrational, delusional, if he thought being here was the smartest choice.
His expression faltered, and gazed at her curiously.
“Well?” She grumbled, wishing he would stop looking at her like that.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I did.”
“Elphaba,” he said with the utmost patience.
She shrugged. She found herself wishing he would just be angry, or annoyed, or anything else besides patient. He was always tolerant with her, no matter how little she deserved it.
The last time she had seen him, it had been true she was travelling to stop Animal protests. She, for a change, had sought him out, needing information only he could provide.
In disguise, she attended Glinda’s Lurlinemas masquerade ball. She had cornered him as he had gone for a walk through the garden – a trait she had noticed first in their time at Shiz. More times than not, he would sneak away from a party about halfway through to clear his mind.
It had been a quick encounter, maybe ten minutes at the most. He had urged her further into the garden once he realized that it was in fact her, and quickly gave her the information he had gained since becoming Captain.
She had begun to say goodbye, but he interrupted her, his eyes earnest. He asked to leave with her, once again, whispering the plans he had made to leave this life he had grown tired of. She had said no as she always did. She was headed somewhere far too dangerous, she couldn’t risk it. Not now.
She turned away from him, not getting far before he grabbed her gloved hand and placed a key in it.
“There’s some Animals in the dungeons. If you have time.”
She nodded, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and she left.
“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? At Lurlinemas?” He asked.
“I never tell you where I’m headed.”
“But that time was different, Elphaba. You were different…scared.”
She scoffed at him.
“And tonight," he continued, "if you had needed my help, you know I would’ve–”
“I don’t always need help, Fiyero. I’ve been doing this alone long enough,” bitterness seeped into her tone, her arms folding defensively over her chest.
“I know that,” he urged, “but if anything had gone wrong, well…”
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have come at all then?” She snapped. “Why are you here, Fiyero? Did the Captain of the Guard finally catch the Wicked Witch?”
He did not take her bait. “Fae,” he tried.
“Why? Why are you here when you were supposed to be married today? When you have a whole life waiting for you?”
He did not answer her, his eyebrows creasing together.
“Ah,” she whispered. “Well, I do not need protection. And I would’ve gotten away just fine on my own. You should go back.”
“What?”
“Yes, you can go back. I jinxed you. Cursed, hexed, bewitched you, I don’t care. They’ll believe it.”
“No, they won’t, Elphaba. Not everyone.”
Her name hung in the space between them.
“They will,” she decided with finality. “You’ll go back in the morning.”
He stared at her with disbelief. She pushed her back off the tree, starting towards the treehouse.
“I searched for you,” he said with such urgency it was as if he was professing something she was not already aware of.
“I know that,” she said as she faced him again.
“No, you don’t. I searched for you, Elphaba. Even when I knew you wished not to be found.”
Her eyes scanned his face, the fight slowly leaving her body. “It’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
This gave her pause. She bit the inside of her cheek, counting each time he blinked. Two, three times before she spoke again.
“I’ve seen people and Animals die,” her hands gestured in front of her, trying to make a point. “I cared for them, and I couldn’t stop it. It’s not worth risking everything.” Her throat burned. “What happens when they kill me? I could be dead within the month. What then?” All her worries were spilling out, and even the sad look on his face could not stop it. “And when they make me watch you die? To get to me?”
His breath caught. He held her gaze for a few seconds, then exhaled, his expression achingly soft.
“Ah, Fae, I’m not going down without a fight.”
“That won’t stop them, Fiyero. You've committed treason. It won't stop them, especially if it means they'll get to me. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’ll be better for everyone if you go.”
“Better for everyone? What about you? Can you look me in the eye and honestly say you want me to leave? That you do not want my company?” He took a step towards her, and another when she did not respond. “If that is what you want, I will leave without another word in the morning. I promise.”
Two more steps towards her, and she had to tilt her head to maintain eye contact. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she focused on breathing – in and out. She stood there for nearly too long, his insistent eye contact making it hard to think of what to say.
Of course she wanted him to stay. She wanted him. But she feared he would resent her one day, when he inevitably grew tired of this life. Or, worst of all, she would lose him. She’d easily choose a life alone over carrying that guilt in her chest – knowing she could’ve stopped that in this moment.
But she could not lie to him, she oftentimes felt that he might know her better than she knew herself. He saw through her, just as easily as she saw him. He balanced her out, kept her steady. He would know if she lied, just as easily as he knew that there was only one answer to his question.
But she could not give that answer to him, not when there was this much at stake.
She let out a dry exhale.
“You’re being mindless, Yero. Ridiculous.”
She tried to turn away from him, the close proximity being utterly unbearable. But he caught her hand and pulled her back. He knew, of course he knew. He did not let go of her hand, and her shoulders slumped. His free hand came up and cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
“Fae…”
And whatever fight she had mere moments ago drained from her. The Wizard’s words echoed in her mind. She was exhausted, sick of running alone, fighting for so long with so little outcome. She had so badly wished she had someone to share her load.
Her eyes stung with emotion, and she blinked to keep them fron coming to the surface. “I don’t know how to do this… to let someone care for me, I don’t…” She stammered for the right words, and he watched her with tenacity.
“Everyone I’ve loved has been ashamed of me. Nessa, and my father. He hated me,” she rolled her eyes, leaning into his hand despite herself. “Even Glinda. She was everything to me, but still, I wasn’t worth…” Her voice trailed off. “And you know all this, I’m sorry. My point is, I don’t know how to do this, because no one’s ever tried before.”
“Ah, Fae,” he whispered with a certain reverence in his voice. His other hand came up to the back of her neck, and goosebumps prickled on her skin. “You can let me stay. Please, don’t push me away.”
“People will get hurt if you stay.”
(Glinda is already hurt. We might get hurt, she wanted to say. But she couldn’t dwell on that now, she had surrendered her fight.)
“Be selfish, Elphaba,” he pleaded. “Please.”
She gazed at him, struggling still to comprehend that anyone like him could ever choose her. Warmth spread through her chest, a flicker of hope for the first time she could remember.
She nodded.
“Stay.”