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It was the faint golden glow from the balcony that caught her eye. She’d meant to fly around the back of the palace, through the very window she’d crashed through more than a year ago.
More than a year of hiding, of covering up her tracks, of being oh so careful to avoid capture.
But when Elphaba saw that light, everything she’d learned in the past year left her and was replaced by heartache.
I’m happy for you.
I think about that day a lot.
Good luck.
She’d thought long and hard on what it might be like to speak to him again. The question had plagued her mind in the days leading up to now.
And then he spoke those words in the forest.
We must not rest until we find that Wicked Witch.
Dulcibear liked to say that Elphaba wore her heart on her sleeve. She felt so deeply that another person’s pain sometimes felt like her own. But the pain she felt when he uttered those words was wholly her own.
What had changed? She had wanted so badly to step out of the trees and shake him, to know why, just why?
You’re going to find Fiyero! But it’s too late.
Nessa’s sneering words were still rattling in her mind.
Fiyero.
Maybe Morrible’s lies had gotten to him. Maybe he really did think of her as…wicked.
The wind picked up, stinging her cheeks like a cold slap. She’d spent many sleepless nights huddled in her fortress, shivering in her blankets without even a fire to keep warm. It was too much of a risk with the Gale Force running about.
The Gale Force that he was now Captain of.
So yes, she had a right to know.
Angling her broom down, she soared away from the open air and onto the balcony. The lights of the Emerald City twinkled brightly in the darkness. Half of its citizens were likely crowded around their radios or even at the front of the palace. This was the event of the century.
She was happy for Glinda, as frustrated as she might be with her best friend’s choices in life. This was all the bubbly blonde had ever dreamed of.
And yet…for some strange, unexplainable reason, Elphaba’s heart clenched at the thought that this wedding would strip her of the both of them forever. They would be bound to the Wizard, the perfect, happy couple for him to trot out and denounce the Wicked Witch.
Fiyero might be in favor of the idea.
That hurt more than she was willing to admit. As she stared at the beams of light that reflected on the balcony, she became keenly aware that there was a chance he wouldn’t even see her. He might call the Gale Force, or worse, reach for his gun.
Such a carefully laid plan ruined all because she wanted to talk to him.
If he turned on her, so be it. She’d leave and regroup, both in her fortress and in her heart.
So she stepped forward.
Through the glass doors, she saw nothing. A spacious apartment, all in a shade of dusty pink. It was so un-Fiyero that for a moment she wondered if this was the wrong room.
Elphaba scoffed at the thought. She had plenty of confidence on her own abilities.
Then the little hints of him appeared. There was a fine Vinkun tapestry hanging on the wall, a framed medal planted on the mantle of a roaring fireplace, with a carving of a horse mid-trot beside it.
“Of course,” she whispered to herself, smiling. Feldspur would have thrown a fit if he wasn’t at least somewhat present.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she slipped quickly into the shadows. Peering back into the room, her breath caught in her throat.
There he was.
“Fiyero.”
Elphaba clamped a hand over her mouth. Stupid, utterly stupid. She needed to catch him unaware, just in case he planned on calling in his soldiers.
Just for a moment, though, she simply watched. He looked the same, if not for a bit more stubble around his jaw. His shoulders were tense, so unlike the carefree prince she’d known at Shiz.
It was the shadows under his eyes that had her staring. He was tired. Not tired, no. Weary was the better word.
The happy charade he put on for the rest of Oz wasn’t as convincing as he might have thought.
He slid on his gloves, inhaling deeply as he did. Elphaba did the same, and for a moment, they breathed as one.
But she had business to attend to.
With a flick of her finger, the horse carving went flying off the mantle. Fiyero flinched, turning sharply. Whatever he muttered was muffled from behind the glass.
When he bent down to retrieve the fallen piece, Elphaba seized her chance.
The door slid open silently. She took one step, then two.
Scanning the room, her eye latched onto the gun, resting lazily on the back of the plush couch. Most soldiers would have theirs mounted proudly on the wall. Fiyero seemed almost ashamed of it.
First thing would be to make sure he couldn’t reach it.
Elphaba reached out a hand, ready to knock it aside with a push of magic. She couldn’t take any chances, as much as both her heart and her head were telling her to trust him.
Then his head rose.
Engaged. Betrothed. Soon-to-be-married.
No matter what variation of the word Fiyero used, the meaning behind them all was still clear.
Caged.
This was Morrible’s way of keeping him tethered to Glinda, and by extension the Wizard. He’d be the Good Witch’s handsome husband, never out of sight, never again left to his own devices.
Never free to search for Elphaba.
It was cruel, thinking of another woman on his wedding night, but it was nothing new. He thought of her every time he opened his eyes in the morning to the moment they closed again at night. And then the dreams came, and she haunted him further.
The lower floor of his apartment was eerily quiet. Glinda liked to frequent it, usually with her cronies Pfannee and Shen-Shen, so the silence was a relief.
He could no longer exist as himself anymore. He had to be charming, always smiling; the strong, stoic captain next to the kind, beloved Glinda the Good. There could be no suspicion on where his true loyalties lay.
So he would play the part. He would marry Glinda and stifle every part of himself that wanted to scream at the world for its narrow-mindedness.
He would do it for her. For Elphaba.
Dressed in his full uniform, Fiyero descended the stairs to the living room. Pink, just as Glinda ordered it to be.
The clouds were illuminated in the night sky by the glow of the moon. Fiyero often found himself staring at that very moon, in hopes of spotting the outline of a black-clad figure soaring across.
Slipping on his gloves, he heaved a weary sigh.
A rush of air had the hairs on the back of his neck rising. The carving he’d made of Feldspur had fallen off the mantle.
“What the-”
Odd. The doors were all shut.
Fiyero plucked the piece from the ground. It was firmly made, there was no chance of it tipping over on its own.
So what could have…
He felt it then. Someone was in the room with him.
A thousand possibilities ran through Fiyero’s mind. It was a messenger from the rebel Animals, or even an assassin. It would certainly say something if Glinda the Good’s fiancée was murdered on the night of their wedding.
Slowly, carefully, he turned.
And his heart stopped.
A year of dreaming had not prepared him for this moment. When he would lay eyes on the green-skinned woman that frequented his every waking moment.
She was here. Right in front of him.
“Elphaba.”
She stiffened at the sound of her name. Her body was angled towards the door, ready to flee at any second. Like she was afraid of him.
That tore at him.
“Wait,” he breathed, holding up both hands. “Don’t go.”
Elphaba straightened. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
The sound of her voice filled him with a newfound resolve to live.
“You’re here.” It was all he could think to say.
She flipped her broom to the other hand. “I am.”
One year had wrought many changes on her. Her cheeks were more sunken, the green hue of her skin had deepened, her hair was nearly to her waist.
But still. Beautiful. Achingly beautiful.
He took a small step forward, arms raised. Her broom raised slightly.
“Please, I’m not-I would never hurt you.”
He noticed the way her throat constricted, as if swallowing back the pain.
“Isn’t that your job? To capture the Wicked Witch?”
So she’d heard that day in the forest. Fiyero flinched at the memory. “That’s what the rest of Oz thinks.”
Her eyes softened slightly. “Did you mean it, then?”
“No. Elphaba, I would rather have died than betray you like that.”
He would. Even if they tried to torture the information out of him.
The broom dropped. “Then why?”
“I knew you were there.” He’d sensed it, just as he had now. “I couldn’t let them search any further.”
She huffed. “You knew?”
Her offended tone made him smile. Strange, he couldn’t recall the last time it had been genuine. “Elphaba, I would sense you anywhere. Even in death.”
The words spilled out of him. A year of keeping himself bottled up, and her mere presence was enough to have him babbling like a fool.
His words weren’t foolish, though. They were true.
And a shock, evidently. She stilled, a statue of green against the soft pink walls.
“You don’t really think I’m wicked?” she whispered, her brows scrunching up. Sadness mixed with relief flitted across her face.
Fiyero’s shoulders dropped. “Elphaba…”
He surged forward, unable to contain the longing to just feel her, to know he wasn’t dreaming.
Instinctively, his arms wound around her. She was solid and whole, and she smelled of the very forest he’d spent so long in searching for her.
Her breathing quickened, but eventually, tentatively, her hands trailed across his waist and up his back.
And her head dropped against his chest.
Elphaba, I would sense you anywhere. Even in death.
He did not hate her. He was not looking to capture or kill her.
He was holding her.
Elphaba didn’t know what to think when Fiyero wrapped his arms around her. At first she wondered if it was a trick, that a knife would turn up hidden in his sleeve and driven into her side.
But…Oz, she was so tired. She had been fighting for so long that just to feel contact with another human being was enough to make her want to collapse. Instead, she managed to muster up the strength to simply lean against him.
His heart beat wildly beneath his chest. She could have listened to it forever.
A rush of air hit her as her hat was gingerly pulled off.
“I’ve got you,” Fiyero whispered, bracing his hand on the back of her head. His breathing eased, as if all the tension she’d noticed from behind the door had left him.
All because of her.
The implication of that settled in her chest. She remembered everything about that day at the train station, from the poppy she still kept in her hut to the specific shade of blue of his uniform. She also remembered the look in his eyes, which she had done her best to forget.
Love.
That word shook her to her core. It wasn’t a word ever associated with the Wicked Witch of the West.
It shook her enough that she pulled back, eyes wide. “I have to go,” she breathed.
Fiyero’s face contorted in what could only be described as fear. “Not yet. Please.”
“There’s something I have to do.”
He shook his head. “Then let me go with.”
Her heart lurched into her throat. “No.”
“Elphaba-”
She stepped away. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Never. She would never take him into that life. There was too much risk, and she’d be damned if her selfishness got him hurt, or worse…
No. She couldn’t think about that, because it would never happen.
“I know full well what I’m saying,” he shot back, his fingers gripping the brim of her hat tightly. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a year.”
“You…this isn’t the life you want.”
“Whatever life has you in it is what I want.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
She did. As much as it would break Glinda’s heart, she did.
The thought was terrifying.
“You can’t,” she managed to get out through a shaky breath.
His eyes softened, an expression she was familiar with. “I do, though.”
“Glinda?”
“A show. Just like the wedding.”
Did she dare to dream? She had to defeat the Wizard, to free the Animals and rid Oz of Morrible’s tyranny.
Maybe, though, she didn’t have to be alone.
And Fiyero…she had pushed down her feelings from that moment with the lion cub. With him in front of her, it all came crashing down onto her.
She wanted him. No, it was more than that.
She loved him.
That threatened to send her heart bursting out of her chest. Her breath hitched, and hot, salty tears formed in her eyes.
Fiyero rushed to her, gently taking her face in his hands. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“If I let you go,” she began shakily, “you have to promise me you will be safe. If I tell you to run, you run, even if I’m not with.”
“I can’t promise that,” he returned.
“You have to.” Oz, his hands nearly enveloped her whole face.
He heaved a sigh. “I promise.”
Their faces were close enough that she could see the ring of dark blue around his eyes. He seemed to be studying her the same way she was him.
He inched closer, then paused. “I’ve waited for you for so long.”
A tear trickled down her face. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Oh, Elphaba,” he breathed. “I would have waited a lifetime for you.”
That spurred her forward. Leaning up, she brought their lips together. He gave a surprised grunt, only to melt into the kiss.
For a moment, it was as if her whole world had condensed into just the two of them. All she could think about was his lips spreading hers to give his tongue room to enter. She groaned at the sensation, her fingers lacing into his hair.
He mumbled a few filthy words under his breath that had her wanting more. Having never kissed before, she couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this.
“Wait,” she gasped, finding the will to pull away. “Not here.”
Fiyero’s sigh was almost pouty. “Where?”
“I have a place.”
His face lit up, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean it?”
Slowly, she nodded.
It took him only a few minutes to pack. Little tokens, weapons, some supplies.
She waited on the balcony, hoping the brisk night air would cool down her heated face. Her loneliness was at an end. The person she’d longed for most would be by her side when she took down the Wizard.
Fiyero appeared then, only to pause and eye her broom warily.
“Flying?”
“Would you prefer we walk?”
He winced. “Fair enough.”
They took off. Everywhere his fingers touched only served to make her go faster. The smug bastard seemed to know it, too. His hand roamed the front of her coat, never venturing any further, but teasing enough.
The lights of the Emerald City disappeared, replaced by the thick clump of trees that made up her home. She landed the broom on the platform just outside the hut.
Turning, she found Fiyero staring at the structure in awe. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” He shook his head. “This place is incredible.”
“It’s a bunch of branches.”
He met her gaze then and swallowed. Hard. “I missed that mouth.”
Elphaba flipped off her hat. “Oh?”
Why wouldn’t her heart be still?
Leading him into the hut, she tossed the hat and broom to the side. He did the same with his bag and jacket, coming towards her.
She met him halfway, her hands going to his hair. He hoisted her off the ground as their mouths crashed into one another. It seemed effortless to him, keeping her upright with one arm.
Elphaba fumbled with the knot of her cape for a second, muttering a string of curses that had him chuckled. Gently, he shoved a thumb through the knot and pulled it free. The cape fell to the ground, right next to his Gale Force jacket.
“Where’s the bed?” he whispered into her mouth.
Untangling her legs from around his waist, she took his hand and led him outside. Her bed rested against the trunk of a great Quoxwood tree in a heap of blankets and feathers.
Elphaba slid off her coat, peering over a shoulder to see him slipping off his suspenders. Heat pooled in her stomach as he began to work at the buttons of his shirt.
“Come here,” she got out, kneeling on the bed.
He did as bid, taking her waist in his broad hands. She took up the mantle of unbuttoning his shirt while his fingers toyed with the band of her pants.
Once the shirt was gone, she ran her hands along his muscled chest. She’d only seen him shirtless one other time, in the meadows of Shiz. Hiding her grin from Glinda had taken an ungodly amount of effort.
Now it was Fiyero’s turn. He came around behind her, undoing the back of dress with the utmost reverence. Every inch of skin was peppered with kisses, until the length of her spine tingled with the feeling of his lips against her flesh.
The dress came off easily, followed by her pants and boots. But Fiyero didn’t stare at her body. Instead, he kept their eyes locked.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed.
Her chest pounded. “Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not true.”
No one ever used the word ‘beautiful’ when trying to describe Elphaba Thropp. But by the way he looked at her…she could have believed it to be true.
“I won’t lie,” he said, bringing his lips to her neck. “You’re beautiful, and anyone who says otherwise is a fool.”
She arched back to give him better access. This was more than she ever dared dream.
If this was a dream, she never wanted it to end.
The suggestion had come in the spur of the moment.
Then let me go with.
It was what we had been waiting for. The moment he saw her again, he would leave with her. It was what he should have done a year ago, the moment he heard Morrible’s proclamation made on the radio.
Now he could make up for all that lost time.
He hovered over her, arms braced against the mattress. Just the sight of her, smiling and alive, made him want to hold her and never let go. That way nothing would ever get close enough to hurt her ever again.
Fiyero would die before he let that happen.
He focused on the moment, how his mouth drew nearer and nearer to the apex of her thighs.
She was beautiful. The most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. In the glow of the moonlight, there was an almost ethereal hue to her skin.
He wanted to worship her.
So he waited for her nod of assent before bringing his tongue to that sensitive spot inside of her. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, but he could have been stabbed with a thousand blades and not have noticed.
He finished, bringing his wet lips to her hips bones. He wanted to kiss every inch of her.
Elphaba panted a few times. “That’s how it works?”
Fiyero smiled softly. “It’s different for everyone.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He huffed a laugh, kissing the panes of her stomach. “Nothing compares to you.”
She looked hesitant, so he pulled himself up to gently claim her mouth. He took her leg in his hand and hooked it over his waist.
“There’s something else,” she noted, pulling back only slightly. “There’s more.”
Oh.
“I would never pressure you into anything,” he said, brushing back her braids with a finger.
She shook her head. “But I want it. I want you.”
That melted him completely. Carefully, he positioned himself at her entrance, in case she changed her mind.
Nothing of the sort happened. She nodded, his face in her hands.
Oh, Oz.
She gasped at first, a completely different reaction compared to Fiyero’s groan of pleasure. Then the tautness of her body loosened, and she eased into him.
“Holy Lurline,” she huffed.
He laughed, lowering himself to kiss her again.
Elphaba hadn’t really known what to expect. It certainly hadn’t been that.
Nestled in the crook of Fiyero shoulder, she brought her hand down to the spot on her thigh where his lips had left an imprint. It hurt at first, but after that it felt good. Really good.
That made her giggle, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Fiyero asked with a smile. He toyed with one of her braids in a lazy, almost domestic gesture.
She snorted. “I can’t believe I went through all my life without that.”
Now he laughed. “You’re flattering me.”
“Oh stop,” she guffawed, swatting his chest playfully.
He shifted so that she could drape an arm across his chest. “That was the second best night of my left.”
Her smile dropped. “Second?”
“After our first meeting, of course.”
Ah. Of course.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I mean it completely.” He stroked her cheek with a finger. “Elphaba, the moment you came crashing into my life, I was completely undone.”
The sincerity in his face choked her up. “Really?”
“Really. I love you, Elphaba Thropp. I always have.”
I love you.
She had to take a second to process the words. “You…love me.”
“With everything I am.”
“I love you too.”
His eyes glistened, a heartbreakingly relieved smile transforming him completely. “Then we’re even.”
“We are.”
She leaned back against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating beneath.
He loved her. She loved him.
As the sun began to rise over the horizon, Elphaba nestled further into his side. She could stay like this forever. When she defeated the Wizard, it would be. They’d live freely, maybe in the Vinkus, or even Munchkinland.
She drifted off to sleep with that dream in her mind. Fiyero began to hum, a familiar, soothing tune that, for the first time in a long time, made her feel safe.
This was what love was like, then.
She never wanted it to end.