This is what heppens when I don't sleep at night. Don't be too hard on me.
She flew as fast as she could over the landscape of Oz, relying on the wind to give her an extra burst of speed every now and then. She clutched the handle of the broom tightly, never even wincing as the splintered wood dug into her green hands. Her cloak whipped around her in the wind, causing anyone who would happen to see her from the ground truly believe her to be a wicked witch. Her rushing wind pounded around her head as she swept through the sky, echoed only by the pounding of her heart within her chest.
She must hurry.
Oz only knows what they had done with him. When she had arrived at Kiamo Ko, her first mission had been to scour the Grimmerie for a spell, any spell, that might be his salvation. If she could produce one good result from these powers that she never wanted and never asked for, then she could die happy.
If the citizens of Oz had their way, that would undoubtedly be her very fate.
For hours she had tried spell after spell and none could give her a solid feeling that she had accomplished what she set out to do. For the following hour, she had paced, torn between the desire to help the man she loved and the promise she had made to him to stay out of sight and in the safety of his castle. In the end, desire had outweighed duty and she had mounted her broom in search of her foolish savior.
As she had flown away from the scene hours earlier, she had dully heard something about a field. That was the first place her instinct led her. Bringing the broom closer to the earth, the green girl allowed her eyes to scan the scenery as she passed, carefully diligent for any small detail that might give her a clue to her lover's whereabouts. Several moments passed with no luck and she let out a frustrated sigh.
Fiyero, where are you?
Whatever be the answer to the question, she knew she must find the location and fast. She was not naïve enough to believe that he had escaped completely unharmed. Even if her spell had managed to save his life, the likely hood of finding him completely unscathed was virtually impossible. Instead, she found herself, for the first time in her life, praying to whatever deity might exist that he wasn't yet dead. Please, just let me get there in time to say good-bye.
Suddenly, she spotted him and her heart dropped to her stomach. He was suspended from two crossed poles, his body hanging limply from the frame. His uniform was filthy and torn and his face was bruised and battered and swollen so badly that he was almost unrecognizable as the carefree and charming boy she had known from Shiz.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she coasted the broom down, nearly leaping off before it touched the ground. Her eyes filled with unbidden tears as she nearly sprinted to the poles, her breathing ragged. Oh, Fiyero…
Clamping a hand over her mouth, to suppress her screams, Elphaba forced herself to keep her gaze on his form, her own personal hell and a reminder of how far this had gone. This is all your fault!
"No.." she whispered. I'm sorry, Fiyero, so sorry. Her hand grappled for the ropes that held him there. "I'm sorry."
"Fae?" His voice, barely above a whisper, caused her head to snap up. His eyes, little more than slits from all of the swelling, took in her haggard form. "What are you doing here?"
She didn't answer, only shook her head and finished working the ropes. "It doesn't matter. I'll have you down in no time."
He chuckled slightly. "That's good, then. I don't think I have much time left."
"Don't say that!" she snapped, more out of fear than irritation. "You'll be fine. Just hang on."
He didn't answer her this time and for a moment, she feared the worst, but the slight sound of his shallow breaths caused her to sigh in relief. Within a few moments, the ropes were unbound and he was lying on the ground, cradled in her arms. Blood still poured from a wound on his left side and she ripped a length of fabric from her gown to dress it. Leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, she smoothed the light-brown hair out of his face as she whispered, "Stay with me, Yero."
He coughed. "What are you doing here? You should be at Kiamo Ko."
She shook her head. "I could let you die for me. I…tried everything I could to save you before I arrived. Apparently, I'm not as adept at magic as I thought."
He smiled weakly. "You did the best you could, love. No one can fault you for that."
She knew his words were meant to bring comfort, but all she felt was grief. "Please, hang on. I can't imagine my life without you. If only I had been here, maybe I could have…" She trailed off, then a smile lit her face. "That's it." she whispered.
Fiyero had closed his eyes and rested his head in her lap. "What?" he rasped.
Elphaba was muttering to herself. "It's a long shot, but it just might work." Turning to him, she said, "Fiyero, I need you to stay awake. There's one thing that might help, but you have to stay with me."
"I'll try."
Nodding, she gently lowered his body to the ground and placed both hands on his chest. Closing her eyes, she drew on all of her energy and concentration, chanting a healing spell softly over his body. They stayed this way for what seemed like an eternity. Fiyero's body felt like it was on fire and Elphaba could nearly feel the strength draining from her own body. Finally, she gave one final shout of pain and slumped over her lover's form.
Exhausted from the mere effort to retain consciousness, Fiyero lifted a hand to gently stroke her hair. "What happens now?" he whispered, hoarsely.
"We wait." she answered, her voice was as weak as his own. And hope to Oz something good can come from all of this.
They fell into a light sleep, both never waking until the dawn. Fiyero stirred as the sun rose over the horizon in the East. Lifting his head, he blinked a few times and breathed deeply, sitting up upon the realization that he felt no pain. How is that possible?
The memories from the night before were clearly imprinted in his mind. Her should be dead or, at the very least, severely injured. And yet, upon inspection of his body, he found himself without so much as a scratch. Fae!
He owed his life to her and would have gladly given it had it could down to that. Sitting up, he searched for the woman who had risked everything for him and his gaze grew worried as he saw her. She lay a few feet away, eyes closed and an arm slung over head head. At first, he thought she was sleeping, but as he came to her side, he knew something was wrong. Her breathing was too ragged for sleep, coming in quick, short gasps and her skin was dealthy pale. Fiyero's heart stopped. It was almost as if….
As if she were dying.
"Fae?" He knelt over her, pressing a hand to her cheek. It was ice cold. 'Elphaba?"
She opened her eyes, blinking a few times to focus on him. "Fiyero…" She smiled. "It worked?"
He nodded, "Thank to you. You saved me, Fae."
Her eyes closed momentarily. "Thank Oz."
"Elphaba!" She opened them again, taking in his worried expression. "What's wrong? Why are you so weak?"
"It's the spell," she explained. "The power….it drains me…I had to save you" She reached for his hand. "No matter the cost."
"No!" Fiyero whispered, gathering her to him. "I never would have wanted you to die in my place. That's why I went through this in the first place."
She gazed up at him. "I knew what I was doing, Yero. You've given up so much for me."
"I never wanted your life for mine!"
She reached up a hand to brush the tears from his eyes. "I had nothing left to give you except the chance you might live."
"I don't want to live without you!"
"You have too. You deserve to have a life, love. Get married, have a family. You derseve it."
"but then all you've fought for will be in vain! Elphaba, if you die, what good will come of this?"
Her smile was calm. "But can't you see? You're alive , Fiyero. Something good finally came from these powers. That was all I ever wanted."
He shook his head. "My life without you is nothing, Fae! Can't you see that?"
Elphaba let out a deep sigh and lifted both hands to cradle his face. "Fiyero, listen to me. You have so much to live for. Live your life. Make a difference. I'll always be with you, I promise. You've given me the greast gift just by loving me and I can't thank you enough for that." She sighed. "I did what had to be done, just as you did when the moment called for it." he could feel her slipping away as she used to remaining energy to press her lips to his a final time. "I love you, Fiyero Tiggular. I always have. I pray we'll meet again." Her hands slipped from his face, drawing a path down his face as she drew her final breath.
"Elphaba?" he whispered, refusing to believe she was really gone. "Elphaba!" he screamed her name into the dawn, drawing her form close to his chest. "Why?", he cried. "Why!?" For the first time in his life, Fiyero Tiggular cried. Cried for the time he had lost with the woman he loved, cried that she never had the chance to live, and cried that people would rejoice over her death.
Using his trembling fingers to brush a lock of ebony hair out of her face, he pressed his lips to her cooling forehead. It was ironic, really. The wicked witch had become the sacrificial lamb and, because of her death, the Ozians' dreams for a perfect world would come true and his own dreams, along with his heart, would shatter into a million pieces, left alone in the middle of the desolate cornfield.
*peeks out*