What I Never Knew I Always Wanted
By Vinkunwildflowerqueen
DISCLAIMER: Wicked is neither my property or creation. The song "What I Never Knew I Always Wanted" belongs to Carrie Underwood.
Carrie Underwood's new album Storyteller is out tomorrow as I post this (Oct 23). As soon as I heard this song, I thought of this.
Life has a way of showing you what you need, and who you're meant to be.
Most brides studied their reflection on their wedding day knowing that this was a childhood dream come true. Maybe the dress was the image they'd pictured as a little girl; or maybe it was the complete opposite as financial and fashion sensibilities conquered over childhood fantasies. And then there was a third group, of girls who had honestly never expected nor wanted to be wearing the iconic white dress that was so coveted by others.
I was a member of that third group. For many reasons, despite what some might think.
Most brides prepared for their wedding perhaps in their childhood bedroom, a hotel suite or an anteroom at a church or function venue. They have mothers, sisters, friends with them to fuss over the veil, tweak a hair that dares to fall out of place, and beam tearily as the vision of the "most beautiful bride ever" (as all brides are reassured to be) slowly comes together before them.
I dressed for my wedding alone in the women's bathroom at the local courthouse in Quox.
I was wearing white, and although I was prepared to claim that it was because when you purchase your wedding dress from a pawn shop, you have limited options in terms of colours (which is entirely true); I had another reason. Because if this day was happening in another time, another place, under different circumstances, I wouldn't have stood a chance to not wear white. Glinda and Nessa would have insisted that I follow tradition, and although I would have argued, they'd win in the end.
Conceding defeat to all my doubts and better judgement now was a small way I could honour them now, because they couldn't actually be here.
The dress wasn't anything fancy- we didn't have the money for fancy. Getting my dress from a pawn shop, I had just hoped for something that relatively fit. I'd gotten lucky and ended up with a dress that did fit, but even I- with my complete lack of fashion knowledge- could tell it was several decades out of fashion.
When I'd found it, something Glinda had once told me had come back to me: "There's a fine line between old-fashioned and vintage", and I'd always wondered since which side of the line my dress fell on.
There was a gentle knock on the bathroom door.
"Fae? Are you ready?" came Fiyero's soft call from outside.
I glanced at my reflection one more time and then headed to open the door.
When he saw me, he gave me that smile, the one that always made my heart clench- in a good way.
"You look beautiful," he told me softly, and I couldn't not believe him.
"Thank you," I murmured. "Shall we?"
Fiyero offered me his arm and we headed down the corridor towards the judge's chambers where the wedding ceremony would be performed.
The ceremony was short- it wasn't as though we had to pander to a lot of guests.
"I understand you've chosen to write your own vows?" the judge asked us.
We had, or rather, Fiyero had insisted and I'd finally agreed. It had seemed so important to him.
"Fiyero?"
Fiyero smiled at me, that same smile that I always thought of as mine, and lightly squeezed my hands.
"Elphaba, you changed my life in more ways than I could tell you if we're married for the next fifty years," he started. "From the moment we met, my whole world began to shift until it revolved around you and I didn't even notice until it had already happened. You give my life meaning, a reason to wake up in the morning. It makes me so happy to think of the life that we've built together, and that we will continue to build upon from this day forward. You're my best friend, my family, and the love of my life. Knowing that I get to call you my wife makes me happier than I could ever imagine. I love you so much, Fae."
In the five months since we've been together, since the day we left Oz, we'd talked about our future in more minute detail than I'd thought was possible. It had been necessary, especially when the topic of marriage had been broached; but Fiyero looked so earnest and solemn as he spoke that it took my breath away.
I had to take a moment before I could speak, trying to remember the words I'd spent two hours writing the night before as Fiyero had slept beside me.
"I've always been so independent," I said. My throat felt constricted, and I had to stop and take a few trembling breaths, forcing my lungs to expand to their limit. It was as though I was reminding my lungs and brain how to work.
"At first because I had to be, and then I got used to it. I liked it. I thought I was happy on my own. I never planned on standing here, wearing white, and I wasn't sitting around waiting for Prince Charming to come into my life. And then somehow, I ended up with an actual prince," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the irony of that statement.
Fiyero seemed to know this anyway, and he grinned at me, chuckling quietly.
"I don't always admit when I'm wrong," I acknowledged, and his grin widened. "But today, I will own up to it. I was so wrong. You've shown me what it's like to have someone to come home to, what it's like to be loved. I didn't know until I loved you that I was missing so much. Because you love me, you've filled a hole in my life and my heart and my soul that I didn't even know was there. I love you, Yero, and I'm so…"
I faltered. When scribbling down my thoughts, I'd written 'thankful' but as it crept to the tip of my tongue it didn't seem to be significant enough.
Fiyero gently squeezed my hands as I stumbled on my words, trying to think desperately of the right word. As I met his gaze, though, it came to me so simply.
"I'm just happy," I said softly.
It was a small word, but a big emotion and one I didn't allow myself to feel too often. Fiyero knew this, and he beamed at me now.
It was only fifteen minutes later that we were pronounced husband and wife.
There was no reception afterwards, we didn't have anyone to festivate with. This was just for us. Instead, we returned to the little cottage we called home and made dinner. Fiyero had splurged and bought a bottle of champagne.
"It's a special occasion," he said in defence when he saw my face.
"I'll give you that," I relented. "But this means I don't want to hear any complaining when we're living off noodles at the end of the month," I warned him.
"Deal," he grinned.
He poured us each a glass and we sat down to eat.
"To us," he said raising his glass. "We've been married fifty-five minutes and so far, I think it's going well, don't you?"
I laughed. "And you're comparing this fifty-five minutes against what, exactly?"
"Books I've read?" he replied tentatively.
I looked at him pointedly.
"Books you've read and told me about?" he amended.
That was more likely.
"What do you think happens now?" he asked me when we'd finished dinner.
"I was going to do the dishes," I answered. "Did you have something else in mind?"
He grinned at me suggestively and I rolled my eyes. I'd admittedly left myself wide open for that.
"Seriously, though," he said. "What happens now- marriage wise? What changes?"
I began to clear the table so I could do the dishes. "From what I understand, I deal with a bunch of paperwork if I decide to take your name; and everyone we know will ask us endlessly when we're going to have kids, until we actually do. Other than that, not much."
"Are you going to take my name? I mean, you don't have to," he hastily assured me.
I'd thought about it a lot throughout our engagement, and I was happy with my decision.
"I think so," I said honestly. "But… it's not as though I'm particularly attached to 'Thropp' for sentimental purposes," I pointed out.
I didn't state my other argument for changing my name- when we had children (I knew it would be when and not if, although I still wasn't sure how I felt about that) they would be "Tiggulars" and we were forming our own family. I wanted us to have the same name.
He looked a little surprised. Pleased, but surprised.
"I just know that names are important. Identity and all that stuff," he shrugged slightly when I asked.
"My "identity" is "Green Girl" and "Wicked Witch of the West"," I reminded him. "Neither of which are going to be affected if I'm a Tiggular and not a Thropp."
Fiyero picked up his plate from the table and leaned over to kiss me gently.
"Well, it's your choice," he said. "Although I do think "Elphaba Tiggular" has a nice ring to it," he grinned and I laughed quietly.
I happened to agree.
"I think we just work the marriage thing out as we go," I told him and he agreed.
And that's what we did.
We'd been married for seven months when I fell pregnant. It hadn't been a total shock- when the topic of children had come up, we'd decided to "let Fate decide" (Fiyero's words, not mine. I don't believe in fate)- but we (read: me) were still somewhat caught unaware. I still don't know whether I just hadn't expected it to happen this quickly, or whether I had just been dreaming that it would magically happened once I had truly convinced myself I was ready to be a mother.
One afternoon in September, we welcomed Jepson Fiyero Tiggular into the world. Seven pounds, nine ounces and looking every inch like his father. And although I hadn't thought I could feel any more love for Fiyero or the life that grew within me through my pregnancy, the moment Jepson was placed in my arms I was overwhelmed by the rush of emotion I felt until I almost couldn't breathe.
He looked so much like Fiyero, we couldn't really determine any features in him that were mine, except that his hair was dark, not blonde. I didn't mind- I was just grateful he was healthy, and not green. But his resemblance to Fiyero was most startling in his eyes, and I loved it.
In the middle of the night two weeks after Jepson was born, I found myself sitting in a rocking chair in the nursery, murmuring lullabies quietly and trying to lull Jepson back to sleep after his two am feed.
I wasn't having much luck, he seemed determined to stay awake. Fiyero kept saying this was a sign he'd inherited my stubbornness, but I don't think I can take all the credit- Fiyero's fairly stubborn himself. Basically, between the two of us, we had no chance of Jepson being compliant.
I'd heard awful things about the middle of the night feeds before Jepson was born, but I didn't actually mind them. There was something about sitting in the nursery in the darkness and stillness of the night, with the velvety warmth of my son in my arms… it was a kind of magic I'd never experienced before.
Although, it had only been two weeks and it was still fairly warm. Come back to me when it's two am in the middle of winter, and ask me again.
As I softly rocked the chair, Jepson sighed a little and shifted in my arms. Even in the dark, I could see his eyes- Fiyero's eyes- blinking up at me. He was blinking slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open.
"Fae?"
I looked up to see Fiyero standing in the nursery doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"He ok?"
"He's perfect," I murmured in reply, smiling softly. "Just reluctant to go to sleep."
"Do you want me to take him?" he offered, but I shook my head.
"I'm ok. You can go back to sleep, you have work in a few hours," I reminded him.
Fiyero stepped across the threshold into the room, crouching down beside the rocking chair and looking tenderly at our son.
"You're good with him," he whispered. "I told you that you would be, remember? You were worried about nothing."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Didn't we agree that you weren't going to make smug comments in the middle of the night?"
"I'm just making a note that I was right," Fiyero said innocently. "It doesn't happen very often."
He was right- on both statements.
"When I look at him, I don't know what I was so afraid of," I said quietly. "It's crazy how much I love him. I didn't know it was possible to feel this much. Do you know what I mean?"
Fiyero smiled and softly kissed my temple. "I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way. I feel like everything we went through… having Jepson makes it worthwhile."
I thought about that. Everything we went through… my years on the run, losing Nessa, hurting Glinda the way we did… it still hurt. But as I looked as Jepson finally drifting to sleep in my arms, I did know what he meant in a way.
"I don't know about worthwhile," I admitted. "But, it hurts less to think about it all knowing we have him. That something good and whole came from all the mess."
I carefully got out of the rocking chair and placed our son gently into his crib. Fiyero followed me silently out of the room and back into our own bedroom.
"Love you," he murmured quietly as we climbed back into bed to try and grab another few hours' sleep.
He was asleep before I could return the sentiment. I shifted into his embrace and closed my eyes.
The last thought I remember having before falling asleep was that life has a way of showing you what you need. And it can heal you in ways you never expected.
The End
AN. Thank you to everyone who has so far entered my competition! I've had a bunch fabulous entries so far, and my friend Brioney has agreed to judge for me. You've still got a week to enter as I post this, if you're keen to win some stuff (closes Oct 30)!
**COMP Details**
In 100 words or less, answer the following question: "What is your favourite Vinkunwildflowerqueen fanfiction and why?" Send in your answer to me as a PM, or Tumblr message or Twitter.
PRIZES:
1st- a notebook with handwritten original first drafts of sections of Ghost of Kiamo Ko, The Right Thing To Do, The Most Convenient Definitions and Long Time Coming that I will send to the winner.
2nd- create a character (either an Ozian version of you or an OC of your creation) to be featured in a future fic.
3rd- an exclusive sneak peek of my next fic, Long Time Coming.
{ONE entry per person}