I really wanted to write something first person perspective.... but I suck at that, but liked the gist of the story so I wrote it anyway... hey, normally I don't really write from Elphaba's perspective(I usually don't- it's usually Fiyero or Glinda), so I guess it's still a change. So that's why I wrote my 525600th ALAYM fic.
Boo American Idol. SPOILERS Danny should have gone home tonight....
She'd soared above Oz on a broomstick. She had made herself an enemy of the most powerful man in the world. She had entire armies intent on capturing her. She was the most wanted criminal in Oz, and there was a money prize on her head; it didn't matter if she was brought in dead or alive. Yet she could take it all, she could function every day without submitting to fear.
She was a grown woman and the fact that a man was holding her hand in the middle of a dark, quiet forest had her terrified. Could he tell how afraid she was? Was her shivering obvious to him? It wasn't that she was afraid of being caught with him, or even afraid of what everyone would think.
She was afraid that she would bare her body and her soul to him and he would be disgusted with her. She certainly wouldn't blame him for it; she detested herself most days, as she had for the past twenty one years. Indeed, she respected him for voluntarily going this far with her and not running away or changing his mind. He had done more than any other person ever had- he had voluntarily spent time with her, going so far as to leave the comfort of a palace and an undeniably beautiful woman to be with. And he had done it all for her.
She was pretty sure he deserved some sort of award. A medal? Trophy? Perhaps just an extra title to add onto his already extensive list? Crown Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of the Vinkus, Captain of the Wizard's Gale Force, Lord of Kiamo Ko, He Who Voluntarily Ran Off With the Witch. She would have to phrase it better before he returned home, as he surely would. And he stopped short suddenly. Was he finally coming to his senses? Any second now he would let go of her hand and run away without looking back.
Except if anything his grip on her hand tightened and when he turned to look back at her he was smiling. He gently tugged her toward him. "The military never comes this deep in the forest, we should be safe to stop here for the night." He noticed that she hesitated before she stepped closer to him. "What's the matter?"
She took a deep breath, considered lying but decided against it. "I keep waiting for you to disappear, or for me to wake up," she admitted, and then continued with her most painful fear. "Or for you to come to your senses and go back home. I wouldn't blame you for it," she said, wanting to make sure he knew that.
"I... Elphaba, how can you think that?" He does finally drop her hand, but it's just so he can pull her closer to him and wrap his arms around her waist. "I really don't understand it."
"And I can't believe that you really are here with me," and her eyes flutter shut as his hand touches her face, tilting it slightly upward and she can feel his kiss against her lips. It was something she never thought she would feel.
When her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck he pulled away so he can smile at her again and ask, "Does that help any?"
"Yes, but I could use a little more reassuring," she said with mischief in her eyes.
He kisses her neck and likes the way she melts in his arms as they settle to the ground, him pulling her half on top of him. "Like this, you mean?" But words don't come to her, just a little whimper from the back of her throat that she hopes is able to convey some sort of meaning because she has no idea how to verbalize anything that she was feeling at that moment. He doesn't seem to mind though, not at all. She focuses on the feeling of him, that fact that for the first time she can remember no one is pushing her away, she is being pulled closer.
She feels his hand slip upward, going from her waist to the nape of her neck. For the first time she senses him hesitate as he goes to unbutton the back of her dress. He breaks their kiss not only to give them a chance to catch their breath but because he feels the need to ask for permission from her. "I know you... or at least I don't think you've..." he trails off awkwardly, unsure of how to ask the delicate question without inadvertently insulting her.
"I've never..." she says equally awkward.
He nods, quick to reassure her, "I don't want you to feel like you have to-"
"I don't," she promises, amazed that he could think she somehow didn't want this.
He kisses her again and tells, "Just tell me if you think that changes." She doesn't bother answering with words, just nods and gladly falls back into his embrace.
She doesn't know what she expected, or if she expected anything, but the way he makes her feel is better than she could have dreamed. It isn't just the physical aspect of it, it was the fact that someone had finally made a firm choice to stand beside her. This beautiful person, who could be with whoever he wanted had chosen her. He had chosen her, and he did not think of her as the Wicked Witch of the West. He did not make her feel as if she were less than human or as if she were some freak. He did not prevent her from being herself or ask her to be anything she wasn't. He treated her as herself, as a woman, as Elphaba.
And he was not running away.