Disclaimer: Wicked and all accompanying characters are the property of Gregory Maguire, and to an extent Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzmann.
A/N: For now this is a short little oneshot.
"It would almost be Lurlinemas in Oz now..." Elphaba peered out the window at the fresh snowfall.
"You haven't mentioned Lurlinemas in all these years we've been here. Why bring it up now?" Fiyero wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"I found some old candles. I think we should celebrate this year. What do you want?" Her voice held a determination and softness.
He spun her around to look his green love in the eyes. "Just a chance that we'll find better days. Fae...how can I explain? I don't need boxes wrapped in string. Or things that only hold physical value. You're all I could ask for and ever want."
"Do you miss it-Oz and everyone?"
"No. Not anymore. For the longest time I did. I thought about going back more than once. Especially when..." Even after twentysomething years the memory still stung.
She laid a thin green hand on one of his burlap ones. "I lost the child...our child. And any others I might have had."
"The doctors in the Emerald City could have helped-"
"Fiyero there was nothing to be helped!" She cut him off, "My body couldn't handle being pregnant. Besides...we couldn't risk that. Poor Glinda...she's kept up the farce this long."
"One of these days...we'll go fly and take a visit."
"Don't you remember? We can never go back... We'd give Glinda an aneurism."
"She's always had dodgy nerves."
"I'm too old to make the journey anyway."
"Fae...forty-four is not old."
"You know what I mean."
The poisons of the Deadly Desert had been a toll on Elphaba's health. Even flying above the gasses still managed to reach them. Fiyero was left unaffected. He hardly remembered what it was like to be human anymore. He tucked a premature gray strand behind her ear.
"I know this was a long time ago, but can I ask you something...about how I ended up like...this." He motioned to himself.
"I suppose there's no stopping you now."
"Do you remember if you made me immortal?"
"I...erm...I don't really remember..."
"Please Fae...I need to know."
"I think I did."
"Why?"
"How should I know! It was years ago! I was panicking and I was reading as I went. I didn't even finish the stupid damned spell and you ended up like that. Alive but barely qualified as so. But why is it such a big deal if I ended up making you immortal?"
"Fae...hush...calm down..." Fiyero hugged her bony form close and felt her let out a deep breath. "I need to know because..." he paused, "I don't know how I'm going to live without you."
"You'll get along fine. You'll barely notice I'm gone."
"Don't be like that."
"Remember? 'till death do us part?"
"We aren't even married."
"Legally. In everything else...we're married. We've lived together for twenty-two years now in this forsaken place. For Oz sakes Yero."
"So I can never die."
"Yeah that sounds about right."
"The curse that started as a blessing..."
"When I'm gone you won't have to go out looking for food anymore."
He wanted to tell her that was a horrible thing to say, but no, she was right. As the Scarecrow he didn't need to eat or drink. Or even sleep. Each night he kept vigil over the thin green woman. She had always been on the skinny side. But as the poisons took their toll her hatchet-featured face hollowed out even more and she appeared brittle. The days when he had lovingly teased her by calling her 'Nails' were long gone.
"Even if I have to live for an eternity I will never forget you." Fiyero pressed his burlap face where his lips had long ago been to Elphaba's forehead in a pseudo-kiss. "I love you too much."