So. We had an assignment in English class to write a short story based off one of our journal prompts. One of the prompts was "what color describes you?" Of course, being obsesessed with Wicked, I said green. And of course, being obsessed with Wicked, that was my choice for the story. First it was a simplified version of the story...no Nessa, no Fiyero (gasp!), no Boq, no Shenshen or Pfannee outside of just mentioning them, and it was a happy ending. But I was only about halfway through the rising action and I already had about ten pages. Not so short of a story. (But I'll prob'ly work on it and put it up here at least...) Then it was just the One Short Day and Defying Gravity bit, which was just crap as a short story. And then I said, so what if the green girl fell in love with the handsome prince? I put it in a Cinderella ish story, and voila. Here is the story I turned in!

Disclaimer: Last night, I had a dream. I dreamed I was in a desert called...I Own Wicked Land. Out of the abyss walked a cow. Reality. She said, "Get a life and stop pretending you own Wicked." (I hate that bitch!...)

Disclaimer to the Disclaimer: Inspired by the amazing WickedJelly, and her disclaimer to her story: Whatever Way Stories End. Kind of copied off her actually. If you're reading this, WickedJelly, hullo and thanks for the disclaimer idea thing!

So, now, on with the short-story-ness! Enjoy. Please review, thanks much!

Once upon a time in the merry old Land of Oz, there was a green girl (she was born with green skin, you see). Her name was Elphaba. She lived in a tiny village called Crage in the kingdom of Shiz. When she was born, the villagers feared her. Her mother

died a few days after Elphaba was born, and at first they thought she was a wicked thing sent to the world by evil, to bring harm to the village. But as she grew older, they slowly learn to accept her. Miss Elphaba was a kind and clever girl, who looked after her father and any animals that wandered to her home. (Quite the fairy-tale girl!) Aside, of course, from the fact that she was green. She kept to herself for the most part, but when she was alone or with people she knew very well, she was loud and happy, like her coloring. She appeared reserved and cool, but was really joyous and warm.

Shiz was ruled by a wise old king, who had a kind, lovely wife as his queen. They had a son named Fiyero, who was wise, kind, clever, handsome…generally all the things one could hope for in any fairy-tale prince. He was fond of going to Elphaba's village and speaking with the villagers, but he never spoke to her, or even knew there was a green girl in the village. One day shortly after her seventeenth birthday, however, he spoke to her for the first time.

Elphaba normally kept to herself when there were visitors in the village, but this particular time she hadn't known the prince was visiting. She had a little garden about twenty feet from her house (as her little get-away), and she was collecting vegetables there when it suddenly started raining. Luckily, she had noticed the darkening of the sky and had brought her cloak (which was about four sizes too big so that the sleeves covered her hands and the hood covered her face) with her to the garden. She put it on quickly and grabbed her basket, which was so full of vegetables they were in constant danger of falling out.

Prince Fiyero saw her struggling down the road like this, long cloak dragging behind her, and her heavy basket in her arms. Being a kind, chivalrous young man, he ran up to her and took the basket for her.

"Please, miss," he said, "Allow me to help."

"Oh, thank you," she said, dropping into a quick, nervous curtsy. She was afraid the prince would dislike her for her odd coloring, or would tell his parents who would then think there was something wrong with her father or the village. She made sure to keep her face and hands covered with the cloak.

"What is your name?" he asked her as they walked.

"Elphaba," she answered. "Or, Elphie, Fabala, or Fae."

"Miss Elphaba of the Many Nicknames," the prince said, smiling. "I am Prince Fiyero, but please don't call me 'prince' anything. I, sadly, have no nicknames."

Elphie thought for a moment, and then said, "Yero. That's your nickname. Or it will be my nickname for you, at least. And if I'm not to call you 'prince' anything, then please don't call me 'miss' anything."

"Yero is a wonderful nickname," the newly christened Yero said. "Thank you very much for giving it to me."

They grinned at each other, grinning at each other being one of the things young couples about to fall in love do, and began to talk.

They walked very slowly down the street, until finally they were in front of Elphaba's house and the rain had let up. By now they'd been talking for over an hour.

"Oh!" Elphie exclaimed. "I've talked far too much. I really must go. I've enjoyed talking to you, Fiyero. Yero." And indeed she had, the two already felt like close friends.

"And I to you," Fiyero said. "Must you go so soon?"

"Yes," Elphaba answered sadly.

"Well, I'll call upon you later," said Fiyero, "If you allow me to."

"Well – I –" Elphaba stammered. She did want Fiyero to call on her, but had realized he still didn't know what color she was, and that she was still afraid to let him see. "Well, that is, thank you, Prince Fiyero, but I really must go." She took the basket, taking care to keep her hands covered with the sleeves of her cloak. Even so, Fiyero could have sworn he saw a flurry of green fingers. How odd, he thought to himself, and realized he hadn't ever properly seen her.

"Wait – Elphaba, I've not even seen your face yet!"

"Yes," she said, walking quickly up the path to her door. "Sorry." And with that she disappeared into the house, shut the door, and leaned against it, her heart beating quickly. Poor Fiyero was left waiting, bewildered, out in the street.

"Fabala?' her father called. "Is that you?"

"Yes," she called, and walked into the kitchen, pretending nothing had happened.

It wasn't until she was trying to fall asleep that night that she realized she'd fallen in love with Prince Fiyero.

------------------------------

When Fiyero returned to the castle, a servant told him to go to his parents, as they wished to speak with him.

It turned out that, as he was of marrying age, his parents wanted him to find a wife. Of course, as by now he'd fallen in love with Elphaba, he thought of her immediately. Mysterious Elphaba with no face and only a flurry of fingers to recognize her by. A flurry of green fingers.

"There's a girl in the village," he said to his parents.

"You know you need to marry a princess," his father started, but his mother interrupted the king.

"It's not quite necessary," she said, smiling at her son. "If the young lady is nice enough. What is her name?"

"Elphaba," said Fiyero. "Elphie. Fabala. Fae. She of the Many Nicknames." He smiled, recalling their conversation.

The queen nudged the queen and said to him quietly, "I think our son is in love." She turned back to Fiyero and said, "And is she pretty?"

He frowned. "I didn't see her face. She wore a cloak, and kept the hood covering her face. I thought I saw her hand, though…it looked green."

"Are you quite sure you didn't hit your head?" the king asked him. The queen and Fiyero both glared at him.

"I didn't hit my head!" Fiyero snapped.

"Was she perhaps a faerie? Faeries are green." His mother pointed out.

"Faeries don't look like girls of my age. They're a foot tall. And they can't shift shape." Fiyero answered. "She was real. She was human. I know she was."

His mother thought for a second, and then said, "Would you know this Elphaba if you met her again, whether or not you can see her?"

"Of course!"

"Very well. We'll have a masquerade ball, and invite all the ladies in the kingdom. Hopefully you will find your Elphaba-Elphie-Fabala-Fae there."

------------------------------

The invitations for the ball went out to all the young ladies in Crage Village, and to various other young ladies all about the land. Posters went up around the kingdom.

Elphaba received her invitation, along with all the other young ladies, about two weeks before the ball. When she heard it was a masquerade, she decided she would go if her father would let her. Her green skin would be the perfect "makeup."

Her father let her, of course. He was happy Elphaba would finally have a chance to leave the village, if only for a bit. He found one of his wife's old dresses for her, and a few scraps of black fabric to match it that Elphaba made into a little domino style mask for herself.

The night of the ball came, and she and the other young ladies of the village rode in a carriage together to the castle. The girls had never seen anything so spectacular as the palace. Elphaba was more anxious than any of them, at once hopeful and terrified that she would see Fiyero. She was again grateful it was a masquerade.

All the girls were announced separately, a few minutes apart. They all tittered and giggled in their old, handed down finery, only managing to hold a dignified air as long as the walk down the grand stairway (what sort of ball is it without a grand stairway?) took.

When Elphaba was finally announced (as simply "Fae, of Crage Village"), last in the group, the whole gathering looked up at her, and everyone stopped talking and laughing.

The gown was a simple…straps, but no sleeves, as was the fashion. The straps were wide, not the usual thin straps girls wore. And the brilliant emerald color of her skin was startlingly beautiful against the stark black of the dress. Her long, silky black hair was loose about her shoulders.

The prince remembered the green fingers exactly that color, and the nickname "Fae." He walked up to her at once and offered her his arm as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She curtsied shyly as he bowed, and then took his arm as she had seen the other ladies do. She felt she could hardly breathe from being so close to Fiyero.

Fiyero walked with her to the dance floor as the crowd parted for them. He bowed, she curtsied, and the orchestra started a waltz.

"I don't know how to dance," she hissed at him, and his face broke into a smile. If the green skin and the name "Fae" hadn't been large enough clues, her voice and the way she said that could only mean she was his Elphaba.

"Don't worry. Just move your feet. I'll lead," he whispered back. And she proved to be a fairly adept dancer.

"Miss Fae, of Crage Village, correct?" he asked her halfway through the dance, as other couples made their way onto the dance floor.

"Yes," she said, hoping he didn't know she was Elphaba.

"I knew a girl in Crage Village who was nicknamed Fae," he said casually.

"How odd, your highness." He couldn't know, how could he know? He hadn't seen her, had he? She should have come up with a better name than Fae.

"Please call me Fiyero, not 'prince' or 'highness,'" he said.

"Thank you." She started to say, "Thank you, Yero," but caught herself in time.

When the first waltz ended, a second began. Fiyero asked her to dance again, and she accepted his offer. They danced together the whole evening (which caused quite a stir among all the ladies present).

Later in the evening, Fiyero asked to speak with her out on the balcony, where it was less crowded than in the ballroom.

"You remind me of the girl nicknamed Fae, you know," he said as they walked.

"Really."

"Yes. Her name was Elphaba, you know. I never saw her face. It was the funniest thing – my father thought I'd hit my head when I told him this – but I saw her hand once." Elphaba's heart skipped a beat. "And it was green. Actually, it was the same shade as your wonderful makeup."

Elphaba reminded herself she couldn't let the prince know she really was green. Even though he didn't seem to care, he probably would. And his parents wouldn't let him marry a green girl, anyway, so she would have to keep pretending. She didn't say anything to Fiyero, and kept her face turned away from him, her eyes on the ground.

"Elphie, I know it's you," Fiyero said after a few moments. He reached out to take her hand.

"No, it's not!" Elphaba cried. She ran away from the balcony, not absolutely sure why she was running and why she didn't just tell him the truth, since he seemed to know it anyway. She ran through the crowd, hearing them mutter about how very odd it was to see that entrancing green girl running recklessly through the crowd, and then muttering louder about how very, very odd it was for Prince Fiyero to be chasing her. She didn't even think of the carriage, she was so panicked, she just kept running past the carriages and out the palace gates, Fiyero still trailing her. (It gave the poor gatekeepers quite the shock to see a green girl dashing through the gates they'd opened just in time followed closely by the prince.)

Fiyero caught her not too far from the palace, but enough so that the gatekeepers didn't see them or hear them. He grabbed her arm to stop her from running.

"Why in Oz's name are you running?" he asked her. "Elphaba! If you're green…well, that's really, really weird, but I don't care! It won't stop me from – it won't stop me from wanting to, to marry you."

She bit her lip to stop from gasping at the thought of marrying the prince (of course gasping in happiness, as she was in love with him). "What about your parents?" she asked him. "They'll care, I'm sure. They don't want a green princess!"

"My father will care, at first, but not once he gets to know you. And my mother doesn't!"

"Not even that I'm a villager?"

"No!" said Fiyero fiercely.

"Oh. Really?"

"Really!"

"Oh!" said Elphaba. "Well. I suppose that's good to know. I'm sorry I made you run all this way."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't, next time?" Fiyero said.

Elphaba laughed. "Are you going to ask me?" she said to him.

"Ask you…oh! I suppose I should. Will you marry me?"

Of course, she said yes. Many "I love you's" were exchanged, as well as a lot of sappiness and kissing I won't bore you with. They walked back to the palace hand in hand, past the still rather shocked gatekeepers, the somewhat scandalized guests, up to the queen and king. Elphaba's father was called to the ball, and they all had a little meeting right there, in the middle of the ball. (They went to a separate little chamber, so as to not disturb the guests.) It was agreed that Elphaba and Fiyero would marry. The group went back to the ball and announced the engagement immediately, and I must add that several young ladies were rather disappointed.

But Fiyero and Elphaba were deliriously happy. They were married, and when the king and queen died, were kind and just (and equal!) rulers of Shiz. And of course they lived happily ever after.

The End