Okay, guys. Long story. So, since I've last posted, Ive been accepted to law school, moved halfway across the country, and now a social life consists of meeting my study group over coffee to discuss our class outlines. So, to say that a lot has happened is an understatement and I'm sorry to say that I haven't been able to write/update as much as I hoped, but the truth of the matter is, I have NO time.
That being said, this is something I've worked on over the course of a couple weeks and have wanted to get up for a while now. In all honesty, I probably won't be around as much as I have been in the past (which is killing me, because I love writing), but law school owns my life. On the flip side, I don't want to lose touch with all you wonderful people, so tho I won't be around the sight much, you can follow me either on facebook or tumbr (both links are on my profile). Please feel free to add/follow me if you like. Thank you in advacne for reading(and reviewing!). It means the world to me
So, I hope to be around as much as possible, but in case I'm not, I hope you enjoy this one-shot!
What was I thinking?
The old wood creaked in protest as it was pushed open, a motion that hadn't been made in some time. Standing in the doorway, Elphaba Thropp-Tiggular heaved a large sigh as she took in the sight before her. He's a dead man.
The he in question was, of course, her conniving husband who had made himself conveniently absent-again- when she had finally voiced her concerns about the attic that desperately needed to be cleaned. Citing a prior engagement to help a friend with "something that absolutely couldn't wait", Fiyero had dropped a kiss on her cheek and bolted out the door before she could even remind him of the promise he had made the night before.
She hoped he enjoyed whatever it was that was so vital, as she had thorough plans to kill him and make it look like an accident.
Releasing another sigh, the green woman stood back and assessed the situation at hand. This is exactly why I was so against procrastinating when I was young. The attic loomed before her, full to the literal brim of a decade's worth of memories and dust. Elphaba blew a thin film of dust off of a nearby stack of books. "This is as a good a place to start as any, I suppose," she muttered as she cleared a small space of floor. Sitting, she mused, "I wonder if that permanent suspension spell would still be effective. That might be punishment enough"
Contrary to the many years she had served as little more than a housekeeper during her childhood, Elphaba had never been someone who actually enjoyed cleaning. The skill had become more of a habit that she had carried with her to university. Glinda had certainly never been concerned with neatness unless it applied to hair and clothes, so it had been up to the green girl to keep the room spotless for inspections.
After life had…ahem, slowed down, things became a bit more mundane. Following her marriage to Fiyero, she been more than a little surprised to find that the infamous scandalous prince was actually an uptight neat freak in disguise. Some days, she had come home to find the entire house, which had been a proverbial train wreck that morning, neat as a pin. AT first, she had been speechless at the sight of her husband in an apron with dirt smudged on his handsome face. Her question had been simple:
"Who are you and what have you done with Fiyero Tiggular?"
He bit back a laugh, kissed her cheek and replied, "Blame my mother. Just because we were royalty never excused us from having chores." He had then proceeded to kiss her senseless as they turned the newly cleaned bedroom into a delicious mess.
Now, as she recalled the memory, the green girl shook her head. Apparently, his love of cleaning had diminished over time or the attic frightened him to no end. Another glance around solved that problem. Despite the bright sun outside, the dingy darkness of the chamber did have a slightly eerie essence to it. Maybe I can't completely blame him.
Then she remembered who had to do it in his absence. He's still dead.
Well, sitting around and doing nothing certainly wasn't getting the job done, was it? With a renewed determination, she gathered her hair back into a thick knot, secured it, and dove into the nearest box. For the next few hours, the former Wicked Witch worked diligently, sorting box after box, separating old school books and special keepsakes. Every now and then, a forgotten treasure would be discovered, resulting in a gasp of joyful surprise and placed carefully aside to be tended to later.
As she worked, Elphaba began to wonder why they had ever kept most of these things in the first place. It wasn't as if they would have had any need for most of their belongings. Neither she nor Fiyero were much for sentimental value, albeit a few items had been kept for that reason. At the end of the day, she could begin to guess that the bottom line was that she was married to a fellow packrat. Well, she mused as she set another box aside, that was going to have to change.
Blowing a stray strand of ebony hair out of her eyes, Elphaba closed the box and rose to stretch her back, wincing as she heard her bones crack in protest. She certainly hadn't expected it to be this daunting. An ironic smile crossed her lips as she rearranged herself on the floor. And to think she had thought the attic was too small at first.
Pulling another box to her, she frowned as she searched for a label, finding none as the others had had. With a shrug, she pulled the ancient tape apart that held it together, squinting as she opened it. What in the world?
Reaching inside, she pulled out a wad of fabric, the aged colors dimmed only slightly by the years of storage. Turning it over in her hand, her eyes widened as the folds gave way and the full shape was revealed. "I thought he lost this years ago." he murmured. Still, her lips couldn't help but creep into a smile as her memory regressed to the last time she had held the emerald green and gold in her hands…
The night was unnaturally cold for May. Breezes danced overhead, adding a kiss of chill to the already thick air of danger that cloaked them. The guards were right behind them; she was sure of it. Grasping the hand that held hers a little tighter, she stopped them despite her head's urging to go further.
He regarded her with a raised brow. "You think we'll be safe here?"
Nodding, she replied, "There's no reason we shouldn't be. This is the densest part of the forest. Even if they succeeded in following us, they'd be busy for hours cutting through the bushes." Finally, she met his eyes, daring him to defy her. "Do you doubt my abilities, Captain?"
Something akin to hurt flashed momentarily in his gaze. "No. I just want you to be comfortable."
It took every ounce of her self-control not to laugh in his face. Her? Comfortable? With him running at her side as if they were two school children? "Terrified" came to mind. Perhaps even "insane". But not 'comfortable'
Never comfortable
What was he even doing here? He belonged in the palace at the Emerald City. He was crafted for a life of balls, fine clothes, and four course meals, not running like a fugitive, ducking behind ever available barrier and stealing moments in the open that came so rarely.
"Are you not speaking to me now?"
She turned, surprised by his bold words. A smug smirk crossed his face. "Ah, I see the she does let others speak on occasion, rare as it may be." Tipping his head, he said, "Tell me, what have I done to earn the honor of rendering you speechless?"
What came over her in the following moments, she had no idea. All that she was aware of was closing the short distance between them, anchoring his handsome face between her green hands, and pressing her lips securely against his warm ones.
It was his turn to be surprised. For all he knew, this was the first time she had shown such forwardness, such boldness by her actions. Wait…that wasn't true now was it? She had always been bold in her own way, always had a fire that burned deep when it came to things she cared about. Ironically, he had never dreamed one of those things would be him.
Then again, who was he to argue?
For her part, she was acting purely on feeling. Too long, she had been numb inside, driven by purpose and adrenaline. For tonight, she simply want to live, to feel what it was like to be held, to be kissed.
To be loved.
Inhaling deeply, she pulled away, unable to look at him as the realization of what she had just done crashed over her. Calling herself every kind of fool, her heart clenched as she imagined his face twisted with repulsion of being practically mauled by a woman who had no right at all to him. He probably hated her, loathed her with his every breath. Could she blame him? She had been so desperate to feel something, anything, that she had acted on impulse and now she would have to bear the utter humiliation that came with it.
As her breathing slowed, she swallowed hard and waited for the inevitable outburst.
"Elphaba?"
Funny, but she had imagined it much angrier.
Forcing her gaze up, she was surprised to see nothing but concern written on his face. "Are you alright?"
Undone by his gentle tone, she gave a half-broken cry and turned away. He caught her arm. "Elphaba, what is it?"
"No!" Her response startled him and he released her as she paced about. "I'm a fugitive who has just kissed-and quite forcefully, I might add- a man who is not only Captain of the Guard, but my best friend's—my only friend's—fiancé. So, no, Fiyero, as you can see, I am not alright."
Near hysterics at this point, she was helpless to prevent him from coming to her and wrapping her securely in his arms. Though her mind screamed at her to stop, she simply held tighter, as if she was afraid to let him go for fear of vanishing before her eyes. "Calm down, Elphaba," his tone was like a mother soothing a child. "You've done nothing wrong. If anything, I am the one to blame. I choose to come. I chose to leave. And as far as kissing me is concerned," She felt the vibrations of his deep chuckle against his chest. "You are free to do that as you wish."
Confused, she finally met his eyes. "What?"
Pressing a kiss to her temple, he smiled. "You heard me."
"But…why?"
"Because why in the world would I refuse a kiss from the woman I love?"
Her brown eyes widened as the reality of the situation hit her. "You…you can't" she forced out as she wrenched away.
"I can't what? Elphaba, you're making no sense!'
"You can't love me!" she exclaimed. "You can't. It goes against every law in the natural world. Look at you. You're handsome, charming, and gallant and I'm…not." She finished lamely.
Fiyero said nothing, but crossed the distance in three long strides, pulled her against him, and crashed their mouths together. He was rough, possessive, claiming her in a way that left no room for argument. She was his and he was hers.
Elphaba clung to him, guilt mingling with relief, joy, desire and love. Yes, Oz help her, but she loved this man. Loved him more than she had ever loved anything.
When she moved to deepen, the kiss, she felt him pull away and press a kiss to her forehead, willing himself to retain some control. She stopped him, sliding her hands further down his back, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
He glanced at her, surprised by her actions. "Elphaba….are you-?"
"Yes," she breathed, kissing him again, vaulting herself upward to touch every part of him. "I need you Fiyero. I need to feel. I've been so numb, so cold for so long." Grasping his lapels, she pressed her body further into his, feeling a small swell of feminine pride when he groaned against her lips, still pressed to hers. "Don't stop," she begged. "Please."
He groaned again, but her hands at the bare skin of his waist trumped any rational thought that remained. Sweeping her into his arms, he laid them down and together, under the starry sky, they made every last precious moment last.
Smiling at the memory, Elphaba lifted the jacket to her face, breathing in its musty scent. Even after all this time, it still carried the smells of that night. Beyond the mustiness, she could still pick out the woody aroma of the trees coupled with traces of dewy leaves and Fiyero's cologne. I always loved that about him.
She was so lost in her thoughts; she never heard the wooden door creak on its hinges as another party entered her workspace. In fact, it wasn't until she heard her name being called that she realized she was no longer alone. "Elphaba? Elphaba, are you up her-OW!"
The green girl stifled a chuckle as she heard the wood connect with something quite forcefully and guessed, by the string of curses that followed, that the object in question was her nearly-dead husband. Her suspicions were only confirmed when he rounded the stack of boxes a moment later, rubbing his head with his right hand.
"Are you alright?"
He glared at the rafter responsible for his pain, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth as he sat down beside her. "I'll live, I suppose." Leaning over, he pecked a kiss to her lips. "Having fun?"
She rolled her eyes. "What do you think? You could have stayed and helped me, you know?"
"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have this." He handed her the jar in his left hand.
She frowned, opening it. "Your big emergency was for a bottle of jam?"
"Ah, but not just any jam," he replied, eyes twinkling. "Go ahead and try it."
Elphaba eyed him suspiciously, but did as he said. One taste and she understood. "Elderberry? Fiyero, that's my-"
"Favorite, I know," he said, smiling. "Rehla stopped me yesterday and told me she had a jar waiting for you, but I had to come as soon as possible. She couldn't guarantee how long it would last around her husband and four boys."
The green woman couldn't help but smile. "Bless her," she murmured. "I owe her another tutoring session for this."
Her husband's eyes were cautious. "So does this mean I'm forgiven?"
She shook her head. "Saved from death by enragement, but not necessarily forgiven."
He sighed. "What if I take out the trash?"
"Not entirely, but it might help."
He was gone before she could say another word.
Shaking her head, the green girl put aside the jacket and returned her attention to the task at hand. Peering into the box, she was surprised to find nothing but articles belonging to her husband. Inserting her hand, she began to pull one item after the other out and set it aside on the floor. Schoolbooks, posters, legal documents, a few photographs, and other assorted items were cast aside without a second thought.
It was only when her hand came into contact with a distantly familiar texture that caused it her pause. Puzzled, she extracted her hand, only to find the texture had been from nothing more than an aged piece of burlap. Though it was barely bigger than her palm, the memories that came with it stretched on for miles in her mind.
Closing her eyes, she turned the burlap over in her hand and allowed, for a brief moments, the memories to wash over her like an angry wave…
It had worked.
Thank Oz, Lurline, Unnamed God, and whatever deity might exist-she wasn't sure-, but it had worked.
Finally, after months of endless research, failed attempts, more research, and stress, her hard work had paid off. The man who stood before her was no longer made of straw, but instead of muscle and sinew, stretched over bone, covered by tanned flesh.
He was as he should be. Finally.
She nearly cried with relief.
Instead, she made a noise that was a half sob, half laugh as she fell into his waiting arms. He hugged her tightly and clung on just as snug. Neither spoke; neither had to.
He found her lips and kissed them over and over, ecstatic to feel their sweet warmth and comforting pressure after so many months of feeling nothing at all.
Suddenly, the sweetness that had been there moments before vanished and everything was need. Need to be held, need to be touched. The gentle embrace turned desperate, a mess of hands exploring every curve and crevice of the body, needing to know this was real. The innocent kisses had become desperate, needing to taste as deeply as possible, to be sure that this was real.
And control hung by a thread as they quite literally stumbled down the hall, stopping every so often to steal another kiss or bumping against a wall as a caress became too much to bear. They lost all track of time and each other that night as they made up for the time that had been lost.
This time, there was no smile on the green woman's face as she pulled herself back to the present. Just thinking of those times alone made her realize how different her life had become. What had happened to them? Back then, there were times when Fiyero had barely been able to get to their room before initiating a tirade. She had been equally eager most of the time, sometimes having to fight him off in public for the sake of propriety.
It wasn't that she didn't love him. She did and she knew that he loved her too. At least…she assumed he still did. He kissed good-bye every morning when he left. They ate dinner together and sometimes sat together in the evenings. And yet things were definitely different. Where once they had barely been able to make it to a bed, now they barely took things farther than a stolen kiss in the dark.
She missed him, she realized. Missed the way things used to be. Missed the secret smiles and stolen moments. Missed the night that the lights went out, but neither slept. She missed the fire and passion that had marked the early days of their relationship. Familiarity and security were all well and good, but she missed the look that used to be in his eyes when they made love. Blue fire, alive and raging in their depths, allowing her to lose herself completely in them.
Shaking her head, she placed the items aside and rose. This had to end.
She had barely made it to the doorway when her husband appeared there. Before he could say a word, she was in his arms, arms wrapped securely around his neck, and kissing him deeply. Her actions started him, but he wasted no time in returning her kiss, tangling a hand in her braid.
Pulling away far too soon, he asked, "I take it that I'm forgiven?"
She ignored his question. "What happened to us?"
"What?"
She sighed. "What happened to us, Fiyero? Truthfully?"
"Elphaba, you're scaring me. I don't understand."
She shook her head. "Do you honestly believe that things are how they've always been?"
"I'm not following you."
"Do you remember the night we ran from the Emerald City? The night you became human again?"
"Of course," he smirked. "Very good nights, the both of them, if I recall correctly."
"That's what I mean," she said softly. "What happened to nights like that?"
He sighed, "Life gets in the way, I'm afraid. I'm sorry Elphaba. We'll plan a night for ourselves soon."
"That's just it!" she exclaimed. "We never had to plan time for each other in the past. We would drop everything to be together and worry about the consequences later. Sometimes I wonder…" she dropped off.
He didn't like where this was heading. "Wonder what?"
Shaking her head, she asked, "Do you still love me?"
"Elphaba…what kind of question is that? Of course I still love you! Have I been that inattentive?"
She shrugged. "It's not just the sex, Fiyero. There have been other things too."
"Such as?"
"You never call me 'Fae' anymore, for one thing. It's been 'Elphaba' for the last three months."
"That's because you screamed at me the last time I called you that. You said we were much too old for juvenile pet names and that I made you feel like a child."
She cringed, remembering one of their many fights of late. "Fiyero, I didn't mean it."
"How was I supposed to know?" Slipping out of her arms, he walked down the stairs, pulling her after him. "The last thing I ever want to do is make you feel inferior, Fae," he said, using the nickname for the first time in a long time. "And to think all this time, I thought we were good."
She smiled. "I don't want to settle for good, Fiyero. I want wonderful."
He chuckled, "That was never a problem for us."
"Until recently."
"That's going a bit far, don't you think?"
A brow rose. "Can you honestly tell me you've been happy as of late?"
This silenced Fiyero. "Some things could have been better," he finally admitted.
"But they don't have to be that way," she stated, slipping her arms around his waist. "I fell in love with you once upon a time, Fiyero. Who says we have to make it end here?"
He kissed her. "And how do you suppose we remedy this?" he asked, letting his lips linger. "I think I know a few things that you approved of."
"Remind me?" She laughed as his lips found her column of her throat, sighing contently as a familiar spark lit deep inside her.
"Gladly," he breathed, backing her against a wall and feathering kissed along her jaw line as she wound her fingers through his brown hair. His own hands unbound her plait, bathing both of them in her sea of midnight black.
"I love you, Fiyero," she sighed against his lips. "I never meant to doubt you."
"You're my world, Fae," he murmured and she loved the sound of her name on his lips. "Sometimes, we just have to take the time to remember how much.
"Shall we," she whispered, nodding to the hall. Nodding, Fiyero took her hand and together they walked to their room, where they found the entire reminder they would ever need.
Love it? Hate it? Kinda-sorta-not really like it? Let me know! It gives me soemthing to do besides my Torts work ;) Thanks for reading!
