A/N: I just finished writing two incredibly depressing future chapters of Lost and Found, and I desperately needed something to cheer me up. And what better to do that than some good, old-fashioned fluff between our favorite green girl and her blue-diamonded Arjiki prince? It sure made me feel better, anyway! A few lines were borrowed directly from the novel, so if you recognize it, it's not mine. Well, that's enough out of me! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I'm not that girl.
One evening through the skylight the full moon fell heavily on Elphaba sleeping… Fiyero looked at the form of his lover, more pearly than green tonight.
Wicked, pg. 196
Fiyero wasn't certain what had pulled him out of a sound sleep in the middle of the night one evening as he lay beside Elphaba in her bed in the room above the corn exchange. Perhaps it was an unexpected sound from the street below; or it could have been merely a noise from the cat, who was off stalking mice in the stairwell. But once he was awake, he couldn't help noticing the way the light from the full moon was pouring in through the skylight, illuminating his lover as she slept. She never stayed still long enough for him to really look at her; or if she did, she didn't let him look. He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow, deciding to take the opportunity to study her more closely.
Elphaba was on her side facing him, curled into a fetal position. One long, slender green arm was folded beneath her head to serve as a pillow of sorts; the other hand was slipped under her cheek. Her knees were drawn partway up to her chest, one foot tucked behind the other. Considering how she could fill a room with her presence when she was awake, it was remarkable how small and defenseless she looked in slumber.
Asleep, some of the angles of her features seemed to soften. Her face had lost the guarded, defensive look it so often wore, and in its place was a serene expression that was almost childlike. The slight frown that she wore while concentrating or making a point was gone. She looked completely relaxed, and the faintest smile turned up the corners of her mouth. In the shimmering radiance of the moonlight, her emerald skin appeared almost to glow from within, taking on a strange and beautiful luminescence.
A few wisps of hair had pulled free from her loose braid to fall across her face, and he reached out in a gesture as automatic and unconscious as breathing to tuck the errant strands behind her ear. His fingertips brushed her cheek as he did so, and he let his hand linger there, marveling not for the first time at the warmth and pliant smoothness of her skin. He smiled to himself as she moved a bit closer to him in her sleep, unconsciously leaning into his touch.
Moments like these were few and far between, he had learned – moments when she relaxed her usual vigilance and allowed him to see her vulnerable. She could be terribly cold and impersonal when she chose, so aloof as to seem almost mechanical at times, as though she did not truly feel anything, as though nothing was capable of reaching past her rigid exterior and really touching her. But in sleep, her softer side showed through. She could not keep up the barriers she so carefully maintained during her waking hours. In sleep, she seemed more human.
Human. He couldn't help smirking as he reflected that she would probably turn that frigid glare of hers on him if she knew he had thought such a thing about her. "I never use the words humanist or humanitarian," she'd snapped at him that first day in her flat when he was questioning her about what she had been up to since leaving Shiz, "as it seems to me that to be human is to be capable of the most heinous crimes in nature." And the first time they had made love, before she had given in and let herself be caught up in the passion between them, she had protested when he had pulled her into his arms, had cried out almost pleadingly that she wasn't a woman, wasn't a person. Now he realized in one of those strangely profound midnight revelations, studying her sleeping form, that perhaps the reason she didn't like to think of herself as human went deeper than anything she had ever told him.
It came down to one simple truth, he realized: to be human meant to be vulnerable. If you refused to acknowledge your humanity, it freed you from the burden of emotions. An animal or a tiktok creature had no capacity to comprehend pleasure or pain. But to be human was to be capable of feeling, of caring, of loving. It meant taking the enormous risk of opening yourself up to another person and hoping against hope that they would not abuse your trust. And it also meant being capable of hurting others, being susceptible to guilt, knowing the difference between right and wrong, whether you acknowledged it or not.
Suddenly he felt that he somehow understood a vital part of her that had always been hidden from him before. Couched in those terms, being human sounded utterly terrifying. He could see now why she found it so much easier to go through life denying her humanity – in her mind, it meant shielding herself from a great deal of pain and heartache. But she seemed to have forgotten that being human also opened you up to a wealth of experiences and emotions that could amaze you, fill you, complete you. His hand left her cheek to move in a slow, soothing motion up and down her bare upper arm as he realized how grateful he was that she was willing to take the risk of exposing her humanity to him. He intended to do everything in his power to prove to her – and to himself – that he was worthy of the trust she had placed in him.
Just then Elphaba stirred beside him – the movement of his hand on her arm must have woken her – and after a moment, her dark eyes flickered open to find his. "Yero? What is it?" she asked, her voice low and husky with sleep.
"Nothing," he assured her, leaning over to kiss her softly before laying back down. "It's… I was just thinking, that's all."
Had she been awake in any capacity, she would never have let him get away with such a vague reply. But as it was, she merely gave a faint nod, and then allowed her eyes to drift closed again. After a moment or two she moved to curl up against him, nuzzling her face into his shoulder, and he pulled her close, brushing his lips gently against her dark hair. And lying there with her asleep in his arms, warm and fragile and soft, he knew that she was human after all.
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