Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was the eve of Lurlinemas, and all of Munchkinland was abuzz with festivities.

A light dusting of snow had settled over the countryside, blanketing every house and field in a sheet of white.Night descended quickly as the Winter Solstice drew to its zenith, but even at this dark hour people were out and about, bustling up and down the streets with lively chatter and merry-making, with carolers singing and music playing and festivities abound.

It was a joyous, celebratory time and every man, woman, and child was enjoying this most jubilant time of year.

Well, nearly everyone.

In the Governor's mansion, where the most stately and refined of the festivities were being held, a young girl stood at the window, overlooking the snowy landscape outside. People bustled about like a swarm of bees in a beehive, and even from here she could see the cheer and laughter on all those faces red and rosy from the cold winter air. But she did not share any of their smile or warmth or laughter.

Because for Elphaba Thropp, Lurlinemas was the most miserable time of the year.

Everyone would enjoy gifts and feasts and family cheer. Everyone else except her, who would be shoved away and hidden, being the disgusting disgrace that she was. With her acid-green skin, she was nothing more than a spectacle to be mocked and ridiculed. She was reminded of such every day when the townsfolk saw her and sneered down their noses at her, or when mothers would hide their children away, or when those same children would snicker and laugh and jeer and throw rocks at her.

And Lurlinemas was just another bitter reminder of what she was and what everyone else saw her as: a freak. For the last sixteen years, her father had hidden her away so he could throw his fancy lavish parties without incident and this year it would seem to be no different. Her, hiding in her room as she could only listen to music and laughter and merriment. She would smell delicious foods being served in the dining hall, her only chance of eating any of it was if Nessa or Dulcibear were able to briefly escape the party and sneak a plate up to her.

So Elphaba sat in her room, nose buried in a book, doing her best to ignore the holiday cheer right outside her window and outside her door, biting back the years of disappointment and bitterness and resentment.

Perhaps it was for the better. She'd save herself an evening of ridicule and mockery, of all the pointing and laughing. Her sister would be saved one night of embarrassment, and Elphaba would be able to enjoy the night without worrying about her. And her father . . . well, her father would be busy attending all his guests so he'd have no time to scowl and insult her.

It was better this way.

And yet, Elphaba couldn't help the painful twist in her heart that all of Munchkinland—all of Oz—was partaking in this holiday, yet here she was, confined to her room, because of her hideous green skin.

She wiped at her eye, scoffing at herself for daring to get all emotional. No, none of that. She was sixteen, it was time for her to buck up and grow up already. This was just how the world was.

A knock came at her door, soft yet insistent. Elphaba perked up and came to the door, knowing it could only be one person.

"Nessa?" Elphaba said as she swung the door open. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the party?"

Her younger sister, Nessarose, was at the threshold of her room, her chin jutting out defiantly. She was wearing an absolutely stunning red velvet dress, adorned with ribbons and rhinestones. She truly was a lovely, lively young face. Tragically beautiful, everyone said, because they pitied the young governor's daughter who was confined to a wheelchair, however much Nessarose despised all the pity. And that same fierce defiant glare was in Nessa's eyes when she looked up at Elphaba.

"I should be asking you the same question," Nessa huffed indignantly, yet there was a playful tone in her voice. "Shouldn't you be at the party?"

Elphaba scoffed and roll her eyes. "Oh, come now, Nessa. I don't belong down there. Not with all those stuffy, fancy rich people talking politics and finance and other such adult drudgery. How dull. It's not my scene. Besides," she said in a quiet voice. "No one wants me there."

"I want you there."

Elphaba blinked. Nessa looked up at her, her expression sad and pleading.

"Oh, please, Fabala. It's not a proper holiday party without my big sister. Won't you come join us? Just this once?" Nessa pleaded.

Elphaba stuttered, genuinely touched by her sister's words. Yet still she hesitated.

"I can't. Father would never approve—"

"You leave Father to me," Nessa huffed, straightening and her lips drawing thin. "If he makes a fuss, then I will make a fuss in turn! He won't dare say no if I ask him. So . . . please? Will you join me?"

Elphaba hesitated once more, but looking at Nessa's eager, pleading face, she felt all her will falter and she knew she couldn't say no. So she smiled, and nodded.

"Alright, I'll come," Elphaba relented.

Nessa squealed in delight, clapping her hands. "Excellent! You better hurry up! Nearly everyone's here and the party's about to begin! Oh, wear that nice blue dress you have! I think that'll look nice!"

Nessa wheeled away, giggling excitedly, and Elphaba closed her door, retreating into her room to change. She was nervous, there was no denying that, but also strangely thrilled. If Nessa promised to stand up to Father, he would cave, they both knew that. And Elphaba would be able to enjoy her first real Lurlinemas party.

She better look her best, then.

She changed quickly, tearing out of her old clothes and dressing in the only nice evening gown she had—a dark navy dress that went all the way to the floor with laced sleeves. It fit her nicely, and it was a miracle she even found a dress as nice as this, and it took both her and Nessa begging their father to buy it, and though he did, he never missed an opportunity to tell Elphaba what a waste of good money it was since she would never find an occasion for it, and that such a nice gown was wasted on one as ugly as her.

Elphaba stamped those thoughts down and looked at herself in the mirror, combing her hair and looking herself over.

Long black raven hair that fell to the small of her back. A thin, sharp frame with angular features, a long thin nose and thin lips, dark eyes and spindly limbs.

Skin as green as sin.

Well. She looked about as respectful as someone like her could look.

Better not keep Nessa waiting.

She stepped out of her room, quelling her beating heart and rushed breath and she strode to the main hall where Nessa was waiting for her. Nessa's eyes lit up when she saw her, and she wheeled over, gripping Elphaba's hand.

"Oh, Fabala! You look so nice! That dress fits you so well!" Nessa complimented.

"Thank you," Elphaba said, trying to suppress the rise of red in her cheeks. "Your dress looks beautiful, as always. Then again, anything would look beautiful on you."

Nessa giggled, blushing. "Well, come on! Let's enjoy the party!"

They stepped into the main hall, where scores of people were mingling. And not just any people, but fancy folks dressed to the nines in their finest clothes. The hall was decorated lavishly with holly and ivy and evergreens, wreathes hanging from the walls and candles lining the shelves and sitting on the tables. The air had a warm, festive feeling and the smell of delicious baked goods filled their noses. But as Elphaba made her entrance, the chatter stuttered to a stop as all in the immediate vicinity turned to gawk and gape.

Elphaba froze on the spot, steeling herself. But Nessa pushed forward, steering her way through the crowd, all the while clutching Elphaba's hand.

Eventually, they reached the far side of the room where a banquet table was laid out with a whole smattering of delectable appetizers, canapes, and finger food. Nessa helped herself to a small plate, encouraging Elphaba to do the same.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," Nessa said as she bit into a pastry. "Father always says dinner will be at six but I have never seen anyone with a speck of roasted boar before eight!"

Elphaba laughed, gingerly helping herself to all the treats she could only dream of having. Half of the food she didn't even know the names of, but it all looked and smelled wonderful. And they tasted even better.

With treats in hand, they began to make a slow circle around the room, and Elphaba was surprised to see other children about their age in attendance, and many who were much younger. The littlest were already unwrapping a few gifts that had been given by family and friends, and Elphaba looked on as a young girl received a doll and a young boy received a carved wooden horse.

But as the two sisters were enjoying their evening, they heard loud furious footsteps approach them. Elphaba turned to see their father, his face beet red and furious, descending on them.

"Elphaba Thropp!" he seethed. "What in the name of Oz are you doing here?! Did I not make myself clear! You were to remain in your room! Do you wish to make a spectacle of yourself and ridicule me in front of all my guests?!"

"I asked her to join us," Nessa said, wheeling herself between Elphaba and their father. "Oh, Father, you're always going on and on about how Lurlinemas is the time for sharing joy and happiness between family and friends. And how can we possibly enjoy such a festive evening when not even all of our own family is in attendance? I insist Elphaba join us for the night!"

Just like Nessa knew he would, their father faltered, his expression falling and immediately softening when he gazed upon Nessa. All the fight had left him, and though he still gave Elphaba an absolutely scathing glare, he relented to his beloved daughter's wishes.

"You're right, my sweet," he sighed, kissing Nessa's forehead. "If having your sister here makes you happy, she can stay. Anything for my precious daughter."

Nessa beamed.

"Elphaba," her father said warningly. She stiffened. "Don't ruin this night for us."

And he stalked away, disappearing into the crowds.

Elphaba let out a breath, her shoulders sagging.

"Oh, Elphaba . . ." Nessa sighed.

Quickly, Elphaba composed herself and waved Nessa off.

"It's alright," she said, keeping her voice light and casual. "Perhaps if I stand close enough to all the greenery, people won't even notice I'm here."

Despite herself, Nessa giggled. "Elphaba—!"

"I'll blend right in with the foliage," she smirked.

"Fabala!" Nessa said, now belting out laughing. Elphaba smiled in turn. Seeing Nessa happy made Elphaba happy.

Perhaps tonight wouldn't be such a terrible night after all.

As they made their rounds, idly chatting with each other, Elphaba and Nessa were surprised to see a familiar face. Nessa immediately brightened and wheeled right over, waving eagerly.

"Boq!" she called out. "Boq, you're here! You came!"

The boy in question jumped, surprised but not alarmed. He was a Munchkin Elphaba's own age, with dark red curly hair and a smattering of freckles on his face, a pair of circular glasses perched on a round nose. He grinned as Nessa approached, giving her a timid wave.

"Oh, I'm just as surprised as you are that I'm even here!" he said lightly. "Not every day a family as humble as the Woodsmans gets an invitation to the Governor's mansion."

"I insisted," Nessa said proudly. "What, you think my sister's best friend from elementary school wouldn't be invited to the biggest party of the year?"

"Best friend?" Boq said with a blush.

"More like only friend," Elphaba teased. She gave Boq a genuine smile, a rarity these days. "It's good to see you, Boq."

"Elphaba! What a surprise! It's nice to see you as well!" he said. And unlike everyone else in attendance, he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. He was smiling brightly, not blanching for a second at her green skin.

But why would he? They had known each other since they were very, very young, having gone to daycare and school together. Boq was one of the only people Elphaba felt like she could consider a real friend.

His smile then turned bashful. "Um! You both look really nice! And Nessa! Um, that dress looks really pretty. I like the ribbons."

Nessa blushed furiously. "Oh! Boq, thank you! That's so sweet of you to say! Father bought it for me to wear tonight. Isn't it exquisite?" She did a quick spin in her chair, and Boq laughed. "And . . . you look really nice, too! I like your bow tie."

"Oh! Thank you!" Boq said. Though Boq surely did his best to dress as nicely as he could, it was still apparent he came from a family with very little money; his clothing didn't fit quite as neatly, and his coat and vest were a few years out of fashion, the vest was hand-made and his shoes were the traditional wooden clogs of Munchkin commoners and not of the fancy dress shoes of the richer Munchkinlanders. But it was still very clear Boq took a great deal of pride in his appearance for this one night, and that effort spoke volumes of him.

Which was especially funny, considering just the other day Elphaba saw Boq slogging out in the snow and mud, chopping down a few evergreen trees with his family, and those trees now decorated their mansion.

They talked for a great length of time, reminiscing of school days and plans for the future. Nessa excitedly shared her dreams of attending the prestigious Shiz University, while Boq expressed his envy and desire to do much of the same.

"I know it's still a few years out, but I can't wait!" Nessa was saying. "I want to get out of Munchkinland and finally see the rest of Oz! And I have heard such wonderful things about Shiz! It's the perfect place to get a good education so I can be the best Governor I can possibly be!"

"I'd love to do the same," Boq lamented. "But . . . my father, well, he wants me to stay with the family and help with the woodcutting business—"

"Oh, Boq, you don't want to be a woodcutter all your life, do you?" Nessa said sadly.

"She has a point. You're far too smart to stay stuck here in Munchkinland," Elphaba said. "You should think of going to university. Maybe even go to Shiz."

Boq's eyes brightened. "You think so?"

"Why not?" Elphaba shrugged. "You've always been top of our class. I think you'd be a sure-in."

"Only because the two of us keep fighting over it," Boq smirked. "What about you, though?"

Elphaba gave another scoff and a roll of her eyes. "Oh, please. Father would never allow it."

"Oh. Right," Boq said sheepishly, his eyes darting to the floor.

Behind them, Elphaba could hear snickering. She turned and saw a whole gaggle of boys gathered, pointing and laughing at her, their faces twisted into cruel sneers. Elphaba's entire body went rigid, recognizing them. These were the town bullies who never missed an opportunity to make her—and Boq's—life absolutely miserable. Boq saw them too and visibly paled. Nessa eyed them, giving them a furious glare as if daring them to try anything.

But though the boys were stupid vicious bullies, they weren't so stupid as to try anything right in the governor's mansion with the governor's daughter so close at hand. But the three of them wisely decided to keep moving and sneaked out of sight.

"Ugh, what are those drooling trolls doing here?" Elphaba muttered once they made their safe getaway.

"Unfortunately, their fathers are very rich and friends of our father, so of course they were invited," Nessa sighed, just as annoyed as Elphaba. "But don't let those knuckle-draggers ruin the night for us. Come on."

Nessa led them to the center of the main hall where the ladies and gentlemen were beginning to dance, and Nessa dragged them along to dance with her. They stayed at the edges to not get too much in the way, but soon the three of them were dancing, with Elphaba helping wheel Nessa around and Boq accompanying them. Soon enough they were laughing along, the bullies long forgotten.

It was beginning to get late, and dinner had, predictably, been delayed. But that wasn't stopping any of the festivities. Their father, Frexpar Thropp smoothly took over the evening's events and decided to exchange presents while dinner was still being prepared. Soon, all in the hall were gathered around the massive evergreen tree sitting at the far end of the hall, where a mountain of presents were piled. They were handed out to both young and old alike, and soon everyone in attendance had a gift, usually small token keepsakes or something to express the governor's appreciation of all the guests. The guests then passed around their own gifts between them, and the hall was full of more laughter as sentimental gifts as well as gags were exchanged.

Nessa in particular got several wonderful gifts, from more fine dresses and jewelry to rare books. For her final gift, their father presented her a case, which he opened before all in attendance, revealing a pair of beautiful jeweled shoes.

"Mother's shoes," Nessa gasped as she gingerly touched them.

"So all may see how beautiful you are, right down to your toes!" he proclaimed. "I thought it only fitting the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight wear equally beautiful shoes!"

He then helped slip the shoes on Nessa's feet, where they sparkled like diamonds in the light. Nessa's smile sparkled just as brightly, tears of pure delight welling in her eyes.

Elphaba, of course, received nothing.

Suddenly, there was a great loud bang as the front doors slammed open. The chatter in the room immediately silenced as all turned, perplexed, as a figure strode into the mansion.

It was a man—or at least, Elphaba thought it was a man. He was a tall, imposing figure, dressed all in black, adorned in a cape and a top hat, a cane with a silver dragon's head handle gripped in his hand, his suit sharp and crisp. But most mysterious of all was that he wore a dragon mask, completely obscuring his face.

She could only see his eyes—or at least, she could see one eye, green and radiant. The other was black and sightless and dead, covered with an eyepatch.

Silence fell upon the hall as everyone stared at the new arrival. Everyone knew who it was, though none had ever seen him for himself; they had only heard whispers of this strange and mysterious figure.

It was the Herald of the Time Dragon Clock.

The man approached Governor Thropp, who looked upon the Herald with disbelief and shock, but always a man to uphold his pristine image and status, he dipped his head in greeting to the stranger.

"Ah, welcome," Frexpar said. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of this arrival?"

The Herald bowed deeply, removing his top hat from a head on which curled several large, spiral horns. "Your Eminence, Governor Thropp," the Herald said, his voice deep and gravely and underlaid with a faint animalistic growl. "I am honored by your hospitality. You may know me as the Herald of the Time Dragon Clock, but tonight, I am nothing more than your humble guest. I come bearing gifts to all the young in attendance, and to you, I give a gift most precious and sacred."

Frexpar leaned close, clearly intrigued by this mysterious figure. "And what would that be, Herald?"

Elphaba swore she could see razor-sharp teeth beneath the trickster grin of that mask. "All in due time, dear governor. All in due time." The Herald stood up from his bow, returning his hat atop his head. "May all the children come forward! For I have gifts for them!"

Eagerly, and equally intrigued by this curious figure, the children in attendance shuffled forward, some far more excited than others, and the Herald grinned down at all of them. With a great and dramatic flair, he reached inside his cape and produced a wrapped gift for each and every child—dozens of gifts, magicked out of thin air, much to the delight of everyone.

Even Elphaba, who watched on, was completely enraptured by the display. It was far too intricate, there were far too many gifts for this to be a simple sleight of hand—she was witnessing real magic.

She had heard tall tales of this man, from terrifying stories of him punishing the cruel and wicked, to mystical, bestowing blessings upon those who found his favor. She didn't know what to make of him, but she was quickly enchanted by his showmanship and his grace, the way he was so mysterious yet so charming and charismatic. With some gentle urging from Boq, Nessa and he both stepped forward, Nessa's eyes glittering with childlike wonder, and though Boq was much more reserved, he was equally entranced by the Herald.

The Herald looked down at them, smiling warmly. "Ah! What a remarkable young girl that stands before me! The Governor's daughter, yes? A beautiful face, perhaps, but what about what is within? I see a heart warring between warmth and darkness, struck between family and duty and righteousness. For you, I give a gentle warning: the path to love is release. Sometimes letting go is the greatest act of love one can give."

Nessa's smile faltered, perplexed by the Herald's words. But he reached inside his cape and produced a box and handed it to her. Nessa took it, bowing her head and expressing her deep thanks. Then the Herald turned to Boq, and Boq stood straight under the Herald's one gleaming green eye.

"And you, oh, you I see a gentle soul and a heart much too big for his chest," the Herald said gently. "To say you wear your heart on your sleeves is an understatement for all the love you have to give to those around you. Cherish that love, but do not be blinded by it. For even a heart as big as yours may grow cold and hollow if it should be misplaced."

Boq fidgeted nervously under that gaze, but yet again the Herald produced a gift, and Boq took it, bowing his head and muttering a quick "thank you" before scurrying away.

Elphaba, of course, didn't make a single move towards the Herald. She never got a gift once in her life. Why should today be any different.

But the Herald paused, tilting his head as he slowly scanned the room, that one green eye sweeping carefully over the crowds.

"I did ask for all the children to come forward. But one has not done so yet," the Herald said. His voice was gentle and sad, as if disappointed. "Do not be shy. Do not fear. The Herald wishes to part upon you a gift, and he shall not be satisfied until it is so."

Still, Elphaba did not move. Especially not now, not when the Herald was making a right spectacle of it. Her father's warning still echoed in her mind.

Don't ruin this. Don't embarrass me.

And nothing would embarrass her father more than if she stepped forward now, when everyone would be looking at her.

The Herald continued his sweep, and his eye landed on Elphaba. Elphaba froze, feeling her blood freeze in her veins. His eye locked on her, and he boldly strode towards her. Under that mask, she could see him smile, warm and gentle yet knowing and cunning. Elphaba refused to turn away or back down from his gaze, but oh how she wished he wouldn't single her out like this! All eyes were on her, surely watching.

The Herald stood before her, and he dipped his head in greeting to her.

"Elphaba Thropp. The eldest of the Governor's daughters," he said, and Elphaba went rigid, swallowing down the rising panic in her throat. "How fiercely I see the fire in your heart burn. How cruelly this world has treated you, and how cruelly this world shall continue treating you, for this world is blind and so very foolish. For you, I give you a mark of protection."

He reached into his cloak, and despite herself, Elphaba watched intently, determined to find out how exactly he was pulling off this trick. One moment, there was his hand—and in the next, faster than a blink of an eye, he had a gift in his grasp. He extended it to Elphaba, who could only stare on, jaw agape.

"Go on," he encouraged. "For you."

Elphaba took it, her hands shaking. Her voice faltered in her throat, choked with far too much emotion.

"I . . . I don't know what to say," she said.

"It is customary to express thanks," the Herald teased. "But your heart tells all. You are very welcome, Miss Thropp. Take care."

He once again bowed deeply, and with a swirl of his cape, he disappeared into the crowds. The crowds parted at his approach, but he mingled, speaking animatedly and enthusiastically. And still, Elphaba could not tear her eyes away, and she swore she saw the Herald sneaking glances at her throughout the night.

Elphaba shuddered. What a mysterious man, indeed.

Elphaba looked down at the present still clutched in her hands. It was tall and thin, with a good bit of weight to it, and she could hear something faintly shift within it. But she hesitated to open it. In her hands, she clutched something deeply precious.

Her first gift, given freely with no strings attached, with no pity or jeers or pointed fingers or clever smirks. A gift given freely and genuinely. Opening it felt almost . .. sacrilege. Not that Elphaba believed in anything of the sort.

Both Nessa and Boq came up next to her, clutching their own gifts.

"What a strange man he is!" Nessa breathed. "We've all heard the stories, but they pale to what I've just seen! I don't know what to make of him."

"He's kind of creepy, isn't he?" Boq said. "Nice, but . . . creepy."

"He's enigmatic, that is for certain," Elphaba muttered, her fingers tracing over the present.

"Well? What are we waiting for? We should open these!" Nesa said eagerly, her fingers digging into the wrapping and tearing it open. Boq did the same, grinning shyly.

Elphaba was much more meticulous with hers. Her thin fingers carefully pulled the tape away, taking excruciating care to not rip any of the wrapper, preserving it like it was a priceless artifact. Neither Boq nor Nessa took such care, and in no time at all their own gifts were revealed. For Nessa was a beautiful and delicate glass rose sculpture, complete with glass veins in the leaves and even thorns. Each petal was as thin as cardboard and so meticulously sculpted, and Nessa was breathless at the gift. She always did love roses.

Boq opened his present to reveal a set of twelve tin soldiers, each figure about as tall as his hand. And just like Nessa's gift, each soldier had such wonderfully fine detail; Elphaba could see the braided aiguillettes on the shoulders and medals on the chests. Each soldier held a different weapon; one had a longsword, one had a spear, one had a saber, one had a morning star, one had a mace, one had a battle axe, one had a halberd, and so on. Boq's face lit up as he took out the figures one by one to examine them.

Finally, Elphaba opened hers. She peeled the paper away to reveal . . . a nutcracker.

It was, like all other gifts, beautifully made. The wood was polished to a gleaming finish and the nutcracker was decorated in a soldier's uniform of green and gold. In his hand he clutched a rapier with a fine wire hand guard, but most striking of the nutcracker was that its face was painted with blue diamonds, signifying this was a Vinkun soldier, and not just any Vinkun, but a Vinkun royal, perhaps even a prince.

"Ooh Fabala, look at it!" Nessa cooed with a giggle. "He's so handsome!"

Elphaba couldn't help but smirk. Nutcrackers were many things, but handsome was not one of them. Nevertheless, she treasured it deeply, because it had been a gift, and it was hers, and it could have been the ugliest nutcracker she had ever seen for all she cared, she would have loved it all the same.

No one had ever given her a gift before.

Boq began to line up his tin soldiers, grinning. He took one of the soldiers, the one with the battle axe, and began waving it in the air.

" 'Captain! The enemies lie ahead! What is your command!' " Boq said in a gruff voice.

Elphaba quirked an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing this mysterious thing called playing," Boq said triumphantly. "We have toys. Let's play with them."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Boq, we're not children anymore."

"Hm, sounds like someone's being a cranky stick in the mud. What, is her Eminence Elphaba Thropp too good to play with toys?" Boq mocked.

Nessa giggled, clutching her glass rose tightly in her hands. "Oh, come on, Elphaba! It'll be just like when we were younger! I can be the princess locked away in a tower by wretched brutes! And you and Boq can be my daring heroes sent to rescue me!"

"I have the most elite of Munchkinland's finest at your beck and call, sir!" Boq said, giving a salute as he gestured to his twelve tin soldiers. "What are your orders!"

Despite herself, Elphaba laughed. And she decided, just for this one evening, perhaps she will indulge in some childish cheer.

She held out her nutcracker, clearing her throat. "Men! It is I, Prince of the Vinkus! And I thank you all for answering the call to rescue the fair maiden Nessarose from the Nome King of Ev!" Nessa continued giggling. "This battle will test your nerves and your wit! So may you all be sharp and steadfast, just like the tin you are made of! Now march!"

The three then began to enact a very spirited battle where not only did Nessa play a very convincing damsel in distress, but also the fearsome Nome King who cruelly imprisoned said tragically beautiful princess. Elphaba and Boq worked together to fight off the tricky and fearsome nomes, all of them laughing and giggling like fools. But they didn't care. They were having the times of their lives, and nothing else mattered outside their very silly little game, and Elphaba made sure to treasure this one moment where it was them, just them, being friends and playing and laughing, without a single care in the world.

But such good things were never meant to last.

"Look at the little baby! Playing with his toys!" a cruel voice suddenly jeered.

All three of them jumped, turning to see, who else, those disgusting bullies looming before them, all sneering wickedly down at them. Boq shied away, quickly scooping up the tin soldiers he had scattered on the ground. But one of the bullies, the leader, a nasty piece of work named Fritz, lunged forward, snagging one of the soldiers from Boq—the one with the axe, which Boq had taken a particular liking to.

"Hey! Give it back!" Boq protested, jumping to his feet.

"Aw, what's the matter, Munchkin baby? Are you gonna cry cuz I stole your stupid little toy?" Fritz mocked. "Aren't you too old and poor to be playing with toys like this?"

Boq went rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his side, which began to shake, and he gritted his teeth, furiously biting back the tears that were already building. He couldn't help it—no matter how hard Boq tried, he was always so sensitive, and he had a tendency to cry when he was upset—something that everyone, especially these bullies, had teased him mercilessly about. They constantly belittled him for being too sensitive, for being a crybaby, for being weak, and Elphaba hated seeing Boq so upset. She stood at Boq's side, glaring the bullies down.

"It's not yours. Give it back," she demanded. "Go play in the dirt and mud where you belong."

Fritz snarled, and then to Elphaba's shock, he actually lunged at her, grabbing her and wrestling her to the ground. Elphaba cried out in alarm, but Fritz pulled away, ripping the nutcracker—her nutcracker—away. Elphaba's eyes went wide as Fritz held it in his hands.

"Hey! Give that back!" Elphaba demanded.

"You want this stupid ugly thing?" Fritz mocked. "Of course someone as stupid and ugly as you would have a toy that's just as stupid and ugly!"

Elphaba saw red.

She thrust out her hand, and she felt fire roar through her being, exploding like an invisible shockwave outwards, striking Fritz right in the chest. He fell to the ground hard, and Elphaba heard the distinctive, jarring sound of something wooden snapping as Fritz flailed about, and she could also hear Boq yell loudly. Fritz staggered to his feet, his face pale and his eyes wide as he stared at her. Elphaba blinked, her anger quickly doused by the horror of what she just did.

She didn't mean to, she was just so angry—

"You freak!" Fritz sputtered, but he ran off like the rat he was, scurrying away with all his disgusting bully friends.

Elphaba stood there, shaking, her breath quick and rushed as she desperately tried to compose herself. Her heart was racing, her head was spinning—

"Boq!"

Elphaba jumped, seeing Nessa rush over. There, right at the edge of the room, was Boq with half his arm sticking into the fireplace, reaching for something within the flames. He hissed, whipping out his hand and shaking it, his face red with tears as he clutched his burnt hand.

Alarmed, Elphaba rushed to his side with her sister, surveying the damage. Boq's arm was an angry shade of red, and she snarled. "Boq, you idiot, what have you done?"

Boq sniffed, wiping at his nose. "I know, I know, it was stupid, I wasn't thinking—I just . . ." he gestured to the floor, where Elphaba saw one of Boq's tin soldiers—the one with the axe—lying on the ground. But it was covered in soot, and one of its legs was missing—melted off by the fire. "When Fritz fell, it landed in the fire, and . . . you're right, I was an idiot, I wasn't thinking—"

Elphaba exhaled. "It's okay. The arm doesn't look too bad, just put it under some cool water—"

"I'm fine," Boq insisted and he pulled himself together, still cradling his burned arm to his chest. He went over to the tin soldier, and after carefully making sure it was cool, he picked it up, looking down at it sadly. "Ugh, what a stupid thing to cry like a baby over—"

"It's not stupid. Those guys were jerks," Nessa said. "And they ruined your nice toy that the Herald gave you. If it were me, I'd be upset, too."

Speaking of toys—

Elphaba turned, finding her nutcracker sprawled on the ground. But just like the tin soldier, it had not emerged unscathed. Its arm had snapped off and its jaw was broken. Elphaba tenderly picked it up, feeling her heart break.

Her first gift. Ruined in just minutes by a vicious bully.

The Herald's words echoed in her head.

How cruelly this world has treated you, and how cruelly this world shall continue treating you.

Elphaba squinted her eyes shut, fighting back the bitter tears and her fierce anger and temper. Why. Why couldn't she just have one night—just one—where she wasn't treated like a spectacle or a freak? Was it truly too much to ask for one night of joy and happiness?

Nessa put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Fabala . . . I am so sorry . . ."

"It's fine," Elphaba said thickly, still clutching the nutcracker tightly in her hands. "It's just a toy. It's just . . . it's just a stupid toy."

"Elphaba Thropp!"

They all froze once again. Just when this night couldn't get worse—her father stormed up to her, and on his tailcoats was that disgusting sleazebag Fritz, still looking terrified, but now proud and smug as he, just like the rat he was, ratted her out to her own father.

"What have you done this time?!" he demanded, his expression positively fuming.

"It wasn't her fault!" Nessa tried to protest, but this time, Frexpar would not have it.

"Can I not have one night without you making such a spectacle of yourself?! Can I have one evening where you do not embarrass yourself in front of all my guests?! How dare you torment this poor boy—!"

"Your Eminence, I fear you are lashing your anger at the wrong person."

Out of nowhere, the Herald of the Time Dragon Clock whisked to Elphaba's side, his cape fluttering behind him, he dipped his head down, his arm extended as if bowing, keeping Elphaba hidden behind his cape like a shield.

"Please forgive me, but the one responsible for the, ah, spectacle as you said, is not your daughter Elphaba, but rather, me," the Herald said smoothly.

Both Elphaba and Frexpar blanched. Elphaba stared up at the Herald, wondering just what in the name of Oz he was doing.

"For you see, I saw that boy there—" he went on, pointing at Fritz. "—tormenting your daughters and this young Munchkin boy so mercilessly. And I thought it was only fitting he should be taught a lesson. A blow landed on your daughter Elphaba shall be returned to him. What was dealt, has been served in equal measure." The Herald's gleaming green eye fell on the young Fritz. "And I thought my gift to you was clear enough, but I see I must spell it out for you!"

Fritz, uncertainly, reached for something in his pocket, and pulled out a stuffed toy—a hastily and scrappily made donkey.

"An ass! Fitting for you, don't you think?" he Herald sneered.

"That's enough," Frexpar said, and he quickly ushered everyone away. The gathered crowds slowly dispersed, and so too did Fritz, thoroughly humiliated by the Herald. But Frexpar remained, glaring down the Herald.

The Herald did not falter.

"No more commotions," Frexpar warned, and he stalked away.

With her father gone, Elphaba let out a sigh of relief. She didn't know what she was feeling. She was relieved that this mysterious Herald stood up for her, but also slightly incensed because that was her job, she was supposed to be the strong one—

She wasn't used to anyone standing up for her.

"You didn't have to do that," Elphaba whispered.

"And how could I stand aside and see you treated so callously?" the Herald said. "No, my dear child, I may be charged to silently observe this world, but I have enough pull to . . . urge things to be just so. Right a few petty wrongs. Whisper words of encouragement . . . or warning. So that is what I did."

"Well . . . thank you. Truly," Elphaba said, dipping her head graciously towards the Herald.

"Ah! But your dashing nutcracker! He is broken!" the Herald lamented. "Ah, not to fret, not to worry, give him here."

Without much of a word, the Herald whisked the nutcracker out of Elphaba's hands. Then, with another flourish so fancy and so grand and quick that Elphaba could scarcely make sense of it, he returned it to her hands, fully intact, fully repaired.

Elphaba blinked, hardly daring to believe it.

"That—that's remarkable! Incredible!" Elphaba gasped. "How did you do it?"

The Herald laughed, taping a finger to the side of his masked draconic snout cleverly. "Secrets, my dear. I shall not divulge. Not yet. But this is Oz, land of mystery and magic. So many fascinating things are possible in this grand and wondrous country, isn't there?"

Elphaba cracked a smile. "I suppose there is. Thank you, Herald. Truly."

The Herald bowed grandly. "Of course. And you, Boq my boy," he said, turning to the Munchkin. "Your tin soldiers who have fought so valiantly. I see there is a casualty among them! I shall fix that for you as well—"

"With all due respect, mighty Herald," Boq said, gripping the tin soldier close to his chest. "I . . . I think I'd like to keep him like this. He may be broken. And different. But . . . I think I like him like this."

The Herald grinned. "If that is your wish, then let it be so. May all hail the steadfast tin soldier!"

Elphaba couldn't help but smile right along with all the Herald's eccentricities. "I wish there was a way I can repay you—"

"Think nothing of the sort. It is my pleasure. And honor. But if there is one thing you may do for me," he said, leaning close and whispering as if sharing a secret. Elphaba leaned in, hanging on his every word. "Leave your nutcracker prince under the tree for the night. Let him rest. He's been through quite the ordeal."

Elphaba chuckled, shaking her head. What a silly request. But for him, she would honor it.

"I will."

"That' a good girl. And chin up. I daresay there's much more magic and mystery yet in store for you this evening."

****

The night continued on with the festivities, and dinner was finally served. The Herald had mysteriously vanished before dinner, and his absence was remarked upon but the night went on without him. Elphaba and Boq and Nessa all ate together, still replaying the events of that evening together. And after a delicious and hearty meal, with the adults indulging in plenty of wine and liquor, more music and dancing was had, but as the night went on, the party began to wind down and the guests took their leave, one by one parting until all had left.

Boq made sure to bid farewell to Nessa and Elphaba before he had to leave, exhausted after a long and very exciting night. But in his haste to leave so he wasn't left behind by his parents, he accidentally left behind his tin soldiers.

No matter. Elphaba would be sure to return them first thing tomorrow morning. For now, she set them under the tree, right next to her nutcracker, which she had carefully placed on a blanket, per the Herald's request.

It was really such a silly thing he asked her to do. But it seemed important, so she did it.

Finally, when all the guests left and the house was empty once again, Nessa retreated to her room, absolutely exhausted, and so too did Elphaba. Nessa bade night to their father, but Elphaba exchanged no such pleasantries, instead retreating right to her room and shutting the door before her father could find another excuse to berate her.

She slipped out of her dress, taking care to hang it back up, even as tired as she was, and slipped on her nightgown and all but collapsed on her bed. Sleep took her quickly and she fell into the blissful oblivion of night.

But despite her exhaustion and all the excitement of the day, she was still restless. She inexplicably found herself awake at the dead of night, and something anxious and excitable within her would not let her fall back asleep. Huffing in annoyance, she slipped out of her room to wander down the mansion halls, hoping that would help entice her back to sleep. But her feet took her to the main hall, where only a few short hours ago a most grand party was taking place. The hall was now silent, the guests dispersed, the food and drinks cleared away, the dim light of the moon casting the furnishings and decorations in a soft, silvery glow.

Elphaba tip-toed into the hall, approaching the massive evergreen tree standing on the far side, and her eyes inevitably fell to the base, where her nutcracker was. She smiled softly at it, and she knelt down, gingerly picking it up. She never thought she would care so much for such a simple thing, but it wasn't the nutcracker itself that she was so fond of, but what it represented.

For one night, she was able to enjoy a night of laughter and revelry, partaking of a grand feast with her sister and the only one she considered a friend. For one night, she was able to ignore the laughs and jeers and points and stares, because for one night, one person looked at her without balking or flinching. One person gave her a gift while asking nothing in return, a genuine gift given out of pure generosity and not out of malice or obligation, and for one night, Elphaba felt . . . normal.

It couldn't last, of course. Elphaba would not be so ignorant to pretend it could. But it was nice while it lasted, and she would treasure this one fleeting moment of happiness as much as she could.

She sat beneath the tree, the nutcracker clutched in her arms, and she curled up on the floor, falling asleep once more, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

In the distance, a grandfather clock chimed. It chimed twelve times, signifying the stroke of midnight, the bell tolling loudly.

Elphaba cracked an eye open—and her breath caught in her throat.

Perched atop the grandfather clock sat a dragon, its scales an inky black, serpentine tail curled at its clawed feet, massive bat-like wings splayed out behind it, one green eye gleaming in the dark, its slitted pupil narrowed on Elphaba.

Its maw twisted into a clever grin, lined with razor sharp teeth. It spoke in a regal, deep gravely voice, underlined with the faint traces of a growl.

"Oz is a land of mystery and magic, is it not?" the dragon grinned. "So many fascinating things are possible in this grand and wondrous country. And I daresay . . . there is much more magic and mystery yet in store for you this evening."

The clock finished chiming midnight, and the dragon laughed, its wings spreading wide, and with a mighty flap, it vanished into thin air.

Elphaba blinked. She started, catching her breath. What was that? Had she imagined that? Was it a dream? But what—

There was the low groaning of wood, and she turned to see the evergreen tree—already so massive it stretched to the ceiling—growing taller, and taller, and taller, piercing higher and higher as if threatening to break into the heavens above. Elphaba gawked, watching breathlessly at the rapidly growing tree—and so too did everything else around her grow larger and larger—!

And with a terrifying start, she realized that it wasn't everything else growing bigger, but she was growing smaller! She cried out in alarm, looking around frantically. What was happening? Was this her own doing?! But her magic has never done anything like this before!

What was wrong with her?!

Everything stopped, and now Elphaba was the size of a toy, just as tall as the nutcracker was, and she began to panic. She didn't understand what was happening, and she didn't know if it was even possible to undo this—

Oh sweet Oz, what would Father think?!

Her frenzied thoughts were halted when she heard a loud scratching sound. She jumped, twisting around, but only silence greeted her. The scratching came again, more frantic, more incessant, and just . . . more of it. And to Elphaba's horror, she recognized the sound of rats scrambling across the floor. Only this time, it was loud, so very loud.

And she was now so very small . . .

Yellow eyes blinked in the darkness, and Elphaba staggered backwards. the scratching grew louder, closer. The yellow eyes growing bigger and in greater numbers as they crept closer and closer.

They emerged from the shadows and stepped into the silver light of the moon, revealing themselves.

Rats.

Dozens of them, with gnashing teeth and scratching claws, noses twitching as those horrible yellow eyes bore into her. They shrieked and chittered, their bald tails lashing behind them as their claws scratched at the wooden floor.

Elphaba quickly retreated away, gaping in terror at the horde of rodents slowly approaching her. She backed away until she bumped against something hard and cold—the tin soldiers, now just as tall as she was, standing still and steadfast with their weapons clutched in hand.

If there was ever a time she could use a dozen tin solders—!

Suddenly, from underneath the tree, the Nutcracker lurched, jumping to its feet with a grand flourish, brandishing its needle-like rapier against the swarm of rats. Elphaba stared, hardly daring to believe her own eyes. The Nutcracker had suddenly come alive!

The rats shrieked and shied away, but they hissed, regaining their strength ad courage and continuing their relentless approach. The Nutcracker boldly stepped in front of Elphaba, still brandishing its sword, but there were so many rats, and one scurried around him and the Nutcracker spun to face it down. But the rat was quick and leaped through the air, coming right for Elphaba—!

Elphaba screamed, throwing up her hands.

There was another terrible shriek and a wet thump, and Elphaba cracked her eyes open to see the rat dead at her feet. She stared on, seeing lodged into its neck, was an axe.

And holding the axe was a tin soldier, a tin soldier who was missing a leg.

The tin soldier ripped away its axe, holding it at the ready as it hopped to Elphaba's defense, standing between her and the rest of the rats. And now, the rest of the tin soldiers had come to life, marching forward, weapons at the ready.

The Nutcracker lifted its sword. The tin soldiers raised their weapons in response. The Nutcracker slashed down with his sword, pointing towards the enemy.

Charge!

The rats and soldiers clashed, charging forward in a surge, the tin soldiers' weapons cutting back the vicious rats. Fiercely they fought, the tin soldiers moving with deft precision and intent, every move carefully calculated, every strike devastatingly effective. The Nutcracker led the charge, diving head-first into battle as he furiously and boldly sliced down any rat in his path. Despite the rats' overwhelming numbers, they were frantic and disorganized, and even just cutting down a few of their numbers was enough to put the rats on the defensive, cowering away against the soldier's relentless assault.

Seeing the enemy's will faltering, the Nutcracker once more raised his sword, urging the tin soldiers forward to press the attack. They marched forward, weapons drawn, driving the rats back. Elphaba could only watch on, too stunned to do much of anything.

This has to be a dream. This must be a dream, this is too insane to be anything but!

But as the rats retreated, something else lurked in the shadows, something far larger and more monstrous than the swarm of rats. There, emerging out of the shadows, blinked several red, beady eyes. Silver light flickered off its filthy, matted fur. Many long, worm-like tails thrashed behind a monstrous, grotesque figure. And Elphaba gasped as she laid eyes on the abomination, hardly daring the monster she saw before her.

It was a monstrous rat, three times as big as any other rat, with many tails and, most horrifyingly of all, many heads. In its clawed hand, it clutched a vicious jagged sword made of bone, a tattered cape draped around a thick, matted neck. Perched on top of its many heads sat a comically small crown, nearly hidden by its many torn and ragged ears.

It was a Rat King.

The Rat King gave a furious roar, charging forward with its wicked sword raised. But the Nutcracker and the tin soldiers did not falter. They raised their own weapons and met him head-on, the Nutcracker's rapier clashing against the Rat King's sword. But the Rat King was monstrous both in side and strength and knocked the Nutcracker away easily, batting him to the floor.

The tin soldiers surrounded the Rat King, swinging and thrusting its weapons, but with its many head and its many eyes, they could not catch the Rat King by surprise. The Rat King swung wildly, bashing away the tin soldiers like they were nothing, sending them scattering.

"No—!" Elphaba gasped as she watched on. With the arrival of their king, the rats grew bolder. It was clear the soldiers couldn't win this fight with the rats united under their king. They had to take down the Rat King quickly!

The one-legged tin soldier bravely stepped forward, but it was easily knocked over with a sweeping strike from the Rat King, and the King threw back its heads, laughing cruelly. The Nutcracker shoved itself back to its feet, gripping its sword tightly as it once more entered the fray, but it could not hope to defeat the Rat King. Even as the tin soldiers came to the Nutcracker's aid and swarmed the king, they could find no opening or way to strike true.

Elphaba bit her lip, unable to just stand there wand watch. She had to do something! She couldn't just stand there uselessly! Perhaps foolishly, she charged forward, clambering on top of a box and waving her arms wildly to get the Rat King's attention.

"Hey! You big ugly brute!" she cried out. She took off her slipper and threw it right at the King's ugly face, and it snarled. "Come get me!"

The King howled, bowling over the soldiers as it gave chase, going right for her. Elphaba scrambled off the box, running as fast as she could.

Okay, great plan, you have the thing's attention. What now?

She ran towards the fireplace, and though the fire had long gone out, the embers still burned low and hot. She turned, seeing the Rat King come right for her. She leaped out of the way right before it could leap for her, and it spun, striking out with its sword. Elphaba barely managed to duck out of the way just in time, and the Nutcracker charged to her side, sword raised as it tried to drive the King back, back into the fireplace. But the King wasn't so foolish and weak as to be corralled, and it leaped over the Nutcracker, now trying to shove him into the embers. The King thrust out with its sword, the Nutcracker barely able to parry, and the two were engaged in a fierce tug-of war, a war the Nutcracker was swiftly losing, as overpowered as he was.

Elphaba came to his side, lending what strength she could to help push the Rat King back, but it was useless; Elphaba was no fighter. The sword drew lower and lower, the heat from the embers growing hotter and hotter as they were pushed back farther and farther.

The Rat King grinned, its fangs flashing, a low, haunting cackle hissing from its twisted maw.

Then it howled in pain. So distracted it was, the Rat King did not see the one-legged tin soldier creep up behind it and drive its axe straight into the Rat King's back. The Rat King flailed, thrashing wildly as it clawed out behind it. But Elphaba saw their opportunity and she gripped the Nutcracker's arm.

"Now!" she cried.

The Nutcracker nodded, seemingly understanding her plan. They both pulled the Rat King towards them, falling onto their backs as the King was about to fall on top of them. But with a surge of powerful magic, she knocked the Rat King away, just like she had knocked away that boy Fritz. The Rat King went flying deep into the fireplace, landing on top of the embers where it screeched and writhed before collapsing, dead.

Elphaba picked herself up, dusting herself off and panting. She stared into the fireplace, where the Rat King was being consumed by flames. The Nutcracker stood beside her, and he looked inexplicably pleased with her. He then turned to the tin soldier, giving it a salute.

The tin soldier saluted right back, standing tall and steadfast with its axe gripped proudly in its hand.

Elphaba let out a laugh of relief, curtsying to the tin soldier. "You saved us. Thank you."

The tin soldier just saluted.

"Well, as exciting as this has been, I think I'd like to wake up now," Elphaba muttered.

"Do you? But the night's only begun."

Elphaba turned back to the Nutcracker, and saw that he was encompassed with a strange glow. The glow grew brighter and brighter until it was blinding and Elphaba was forced to shield her eyes from the light. There was a loud crack like fireworks and the light dimmed, and Elphaba blinked away the stars in her vision.

And gasped.

Standing before her was no longer a nutcracker, but a man, dressed in the same green and gold uniform, painted with the same blue markings. But he was fully human, beaming at Elphaba with a dazzling smile. Elphaba felt her legs grow weak and her head faint as she gazed at the man before her.

He was stunningly handsome, with golden hair and sapphire eyes, a strong square chin and such kindness and gratitude in his expression. He looked at Elphaba with nothing but pure adoration and awe, not flinching in the slightest at the sight of her. He stepped towards her, sheathing his sword and extended his hand to her.

"Miss Elphaba Thropp, yes?" the man asked. Elphaba could only nod. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fiyero Tigelaar. I am Prince of the Vinkus. And I must thank you most graciously for freeing me from my curse."

"What?" Elphaba said dumbly.

"You're right, that story is not important," Fiyero waved off. "What is important is . . . you helped me defeat a terrifying and powerful enemy. And I have you to thank for saving my life. Please, come with me. Such acts deserve proper praise and recognition, and it would be my honor to shower you with such."

He kept his hand extended to her, but Elphaba did not move. She could only stare at it.

"This—this is a dream. It has to be," Elphaba said numbly.

"If this must be a dream . . . then what's the harm in indulging in it a little while longer?" Fiyero asked, giving her a grin that was so warm and so kind, yet clever with a trickster gleam.

So disarmed Elphaba was that she could not resit. So she reached out, and took Prince Fiyero's hand.

Fiyero gripped Elphaba's hand and pulled her close, Elphaba's face flushing red but Fiyero made no remark of it. He whistled, and from somewhere far off, Elphaba could hear a distant neigh and the clatter of hooves. From around the tree came a magnificent black steed pulling a grand and regal carriage. The horse whinnied, throwing back his head as he pawed at the floor.

"Feldspar! There you are, my friend!" Fiyero said.

"Prince Fiyero! Good to see you back to your old self!" the Horse, Feldspur said.

"All thanks to this fine miss right here," Fiyero smiled as he helped Elphaba onto the carriage. "Let's go home."

"Gladly!"

Then the Horse took off, running straight back towards the tree—and to Elphaba's horror, straight into the tree, the Horse Feldspar running straight towards the evergreen's trunk—

Elphaba made a small noise, squinting her eyes tightly shut and burying her head in Fiyero's chest, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

The seconds stretched on and on, yet nothing happened. Cautiously, Elphaba lifted her head, and saw she was somewhere far away, riding across a beautiful snowy landscape deep in an evergreen forest. She gaped, taking in the spectacular wintery scene around her, the smell of pines permeating the air and the bite of cold nipping at her cheeks. Elphaba shivered, her breath coming out in a frosty puff of air.

Fiyero chuckled good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

She didn't protest.

They rode on for a bit further until the forest opened up to reveal a grand and magnificent castle, a castle plucked straight out of a fairy tale book, with tall spires and stain glass windows and tall pillars and sweeping arches. Elphaba's smile split across her face, staring in awe at the castle as they drew closer and closer.

Feldspur rode them right up to the castle doors, where once more, ever the princely gentleman, he helped Elphaba down from the carriage and led her inside. The doors swung open, and their arrival was greeted with ecstatic cheers and much jubilation.

"The prince! The prince has returned!" the people of the castle cried. "Oh, let the news be spread! Our beloved prince has come back to us!"

Elphaba was immediately swarmed by all the servants and people of the palace, who all expressed their gratitude and glee, and none of them so much as blinked at the color of her skin. In fact, it was if she wasn't green at all, with how . . . normal everyone was treating her. It was disconcerting at first, but everyone was being so kind and warm and welcoming, that she decided, just this once, she would not question it, and graciously accepted their thanks.

Two people then broke through the crowds, and all turned to bow to them. They were a man and woman, dressed in regal finery, both wearing jeweled crowns on their heads, both bearing blue diamond tattoos like Prince Fiyero.

It was the King and Queen of the Vinkus.

"Is it true? Is our son is returned and restored?" the King proclaimed.

"It is so! Father, I have come home!" Fiyero said, stepping forward with tears in his eyes. "The wretched Rat King is dead! Here is his crown as proof!" he said, holding aloft the crown that had once perched on the rat's many heads. "And it is all thanks to this magnificent woman here! Elphaba Thropp!"

The King and Queen turned to her, both beaming brightly.

"Elphaba Thropp! Our hero, and savior! Who has returned our beloved son to us!" the Queen announced. "There is nothing we can possibly do to express the depth of our gratitude!"

Elphaba blushed furiously. "You—you honor me, Your Majesty, but—"

"But that is not for lack of trying!" the King laughed. He clapped his hands. "People! Your Prince has come home! Let us throw a celebration for the ages!"

There was much shouting and cheering as all in attendance quickly rushed about. Musicians gathered instruments to play, bakers and chefs rushed to the kitchen to prepare a feast, and dancers and entertainers of every kind flocked to their dressing rooms to ready the performance of their lives.

The Queen gracefully strode forward, ushering Elphaba off to the side. "And you, my dear, shall be treated with nothing but the highest care! Come, let us get you a dress fit for a heroine!"

Elphaba found what little will she had left faltering. "Your Majesty, I can't possibly accept—"

"Please, I insist. It is the very least I can do to express my gratitude. For many long, painful years, my son was lost to me, twisted into such a wretched form. And in helping him slay the Rat King, you have broken his curse and returned him to us. Let us return the favor, however meager it may be."

Elphaba was then led to a room where a beautician swiftly looked her up and down and whipped together an absolutely stunning ballgown, nothing too excessive, nothing too extravagant, but still regal and fine and beautiful in all the right ways. It was a dark navy blue accented with purples and very deep maroons, which complimented her green skin so perfectly. And as her hair was done up in a bun adorned with blue diamonds and jewels, Elphaba felt, for the first time in her life . . .

Beautiful.

"Ah, you put all the princesses of the Vinkus to shame!" the beautician said wistfully. "But don't tell them I said that!"

Elphaba giggled, giving the beautician a curtsy. "Thank you. The dress is . . . I have no words. It's beautiful."

"A beautiful dress for a special young woman!" he bowed. "Now! Off with you! Your prince awaits!"

Your prince. Those words sent a thrill through Elphaba's body. She once again reminded herself this was nothing but a dream—

But it was such a wonderful dream, and Elphaba didn't want to wake up.

So she exited the room, where just like the beautician said, Prince Fiyero was waiting for her. He too had changed into a suit more fitting for celebration, a suit of royal and deep rich blue that complimented her dress so perfectly. He held out his arm for her, and Elphaba took it with a smile.

"Shall we?" Fiyero said and led her through the castle to the ballroom.

The ballroom was so grand and magnificent it made the Governor's mansion look like a pauper's house. The walls gleaned of white marble and crystal chandeliers hung from high vaulted ceilings, one wall was a stretch of stained glass windows, wonderfully detailed and beautiful. Fiyero led her right to the center of the ballroom, where musicians began to play and everyone began to dance.

But Elphaba hesitated.

"I—I never danced before," she said bashfully. "I don't know how."

"That's alright. I'll show you," Fiyero said gently. He took her hand, placing the other at her waist. "Just follow my lead."

And he did so, guiding her through the steps of dance, and soon they were circling the ballroom, practically gliding on air as Fiyero spun her about, maneuvering her with so much grace and ease she thought she was flying! Fiyero himself was such a magnificent dancer, able to glide so effortlessly. He was such a joy to watch and Elphaba couldn't help but smile and laugh the entire time, Fiyero laughing and smiling right along with her.

At the end of the dance, Fiyero dipped her low, his face tantalizingly close to hers, his breath hot on her neck.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Elphaba blushed, rolling her eyes. Now she definitely knew she was dreaming.

No one would ever call her beautiful.

But this was such a nice dream, and she didn't want to wake up. So she kept going.

She didn't know how long she had been dancing, but it had been long enough that her feet ached so terribly. But by then, dinner was ready and Fiyero led her to a banquet hall, where an absolutely dazzling feast was laid before them, a feast that made her own father's Lurlinemas dinner look like prison slop. The food was absolutely heavenly, every bite was pure bliss, and Elphaba was encouraged to try anything and everything, which she did with great glee. As they ate, Fiyero heroically regaled the story of their fight with the Rat King, putting just the right amount of bombastic flair to the story. He also made certain to credit a certain steadfast tin soldier for giving them just the edge they needed to secure victory over the Rat King, and the Vinkun king and queen promised that this tin soldier would be adequately thanked, as well.

After the feast was concluded, out came the desserts, and though Elphaba thought she couldn't possibly eat another bite of food, she nevertheless found room for all the tantalizing treats laid out before her, from the finest chocolates from Gillikin to cakes from Quadling to the delectable pastries native to the Vinkus to the lollipops and sugar candy from her homeland of Munchkinland. Elphaba had a bit of everything, unable to resist how tempting everything looked.

As they ate, the floor opened up for performer to sing and dance to round out the night. Dancers performed one of the most spectacular ballets Elphaba had ever seen, jugglers played with swords and fire alike (Fiyero joked that he tried that once as a boy, with less than stellar results)

Elphaba watched on, completely enraptured by the sheer spectacle of it all. But it was all so much, just a constant stream of activity that Elphaba found herself overwhelmed, and she looked for an excuse to pull away. But Fiyero surprised her; he loudly said that all this celebration was giving him a headache. He cracked a joke about being a nutcracker for so long he forgot what it was like to actually eat food, which earned a raucous round of laughter from all in attendance. But he politely excused himself for a bit of fresh air, pulling Elphaba along with him. They escaped to a balcony, overlooking the snowy mountains and a crystal clear sky dazzling with hundreds of stars glistening like diamonds, a crescent moon bathing everything in a silver glow.

And there they stood in silence for some time, just taking in the scenery, enjoying each other's company, not needing to say a single word. Elphaba hung off Fiyero's arm, her head resting on his shoulder, Fiyero's hand gently resting over Elphaba's.

"It's a beautiful night," Fiyero remarked.

Elphaba hummed, her eyelids feeling so heavy. "Everything's been so . . . magical. Wonderful." She grew quiet, clutching Fiyero's arm tighter. "I don't want it to end. I don't want to wake up."

"You don't have to," Fiyero said gently, cupping her face. "You can stay here."

Oh, how tempting that was! But Elphaba knew the truth. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't. She would inevitably wake up, and all of this . . . would be gone.

"I can't stay," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I want to. But I can't."

"I understand," Fiyero said. He guided her to a bench where they sat down together, their hands clutched in each other's. "But I want to tell you . . . this night was something very special. I will never forget you or what you did, Elphaba Thropp."

Elphaba cracked a smile. "And I don't think I will ever forget such a wonderful dream."

"Who says this is a dream?" Fiyero smirked, one more giving her that playful crooked grin of his.

Elphaba scoffed, but not unkindly. "Oh, please. You were a nutcracker not two hours ago. You killed a seven-headed rat with the help of animated toy soldiers. You called me beautiful. Of course this is a dream."

Elphaba was expecting him to share her laughter, but he just stared at her, his eyes so . . . sad. "You think this is a dream because I called you beautiful?"

Elphaba shrugged, pushing down the hurt and self-loathing and putting back on her veneer of couldn't-care-less. No one could hurt her if she pretended it didn't bother her. "I'm not blind or stupid, Fiyero. I know what I am."

"Beautiful."

Elphaba paused, turning to see Fiyero looking at her with nothing but love and adoration.

"You are beautiful, Elphaba Thropp," he whispered. "Do not let the world convince you you aren't."

Elphaba wanted to believe him. Oh, how she wished she could believe there was someone—just one person out there—who truly saw her as beautiful.

But this was just a dream. Just a fantasy.

"This isn't real," she said, tears burning in her eyes. "This night has been wonderful, and magical . . . but it's not real."

"Is it?" Fiyero challenged gently. "Oz is a lang of magic and mystery and a place where the impossible is possible. Can you believe, for just a moment, this might be real?"

He leaned close, his lips hovering just over hers. And Elphaba knew it was foolish, she knew she was just deluding herself and indulging in her fantasies—but she couldn't help herself. This was a dream, and such a wonderful dream, so why not? Why not let herself have just this one moment of bliss?

She kissed him. She kissed him deeply, her hand threading through his golden locks as she pulled him close. Fiyero's arms wrapped around her, pulling her in, his grip sure and warm. In his arms, Elphaba felt . . . safe.

Loved.

"Stay with me? Until I wake?" Elphaba pleaded.

Fiyero smiled. "Of course."

And there they sat for the rest of the night, gazing out at the winter mountains stretched before them, the stars shining brightly overhead.

And above, the moon shone brightly. And Elphaba swore the moon looked . . .

Green.