AN: If you thought the rest of this story would be flashback-y and fluffy, then you thought wrong. Other than that, though, thanks again for your wonderful reviews! :)


3. Without You

One year later

The funeral was a few days later.

Fiyero had spent every single day with his wife, sitting beside her and holding her hand whilst cradling his son with his other arm. He talked to her all the time and nothing could take him away from her. The king and queen had considered having the guards take him away again, but they had decided against it, fearing that it would only make things worse.

Glinda, of course, was sad, but managed to hold herself together fairly well. Though pale and quiet, she helped Hamold and Lori with everything, from arranging the funeral to preparing the announcement and making sure Fiyero took care of himself. She brought the prince something to eat and to drink a few times a day, and she gently pried the baby away from him so that she could take care of him, too. Sometimes she talked to the prince and they ended up having an actual conversation; more often than not, however, he would be in his own world, where nothing existed but himself, his son, and his wife, and he would not even acknowledge Glinda's presence. One time he had been crying when she came in, his face buried in Elphaba's neck and hair as he sobbed his heart out the way she had never seen anyone cry before. It broke her heart.

The funeral was quiet and horrible. Fiyero had to be held back by two guards to prevent him from throwing himself onto the coffin during the ceremony. Lori couldn't stop crying, silent tears running down her cheeks as Hamold held her close to him with tears in his own eyes. Glinda was holding Elphaba's child, cradling him to her chest as she watched the coffin with her best friend's body being lowered into the ground. The baby was crying. His high, thin wails mingled with the awful howls of agony and grief that ripped free from Fiyero's throat.

The prince locked himself in a room after that, not coming out for three entire days. He did not eat, he did not drink, and Glinda suspected he did not sleep, either. He refused to speak to anyone and he refused to open the door.

Glinda took care of the baby during that time, with a little help from Lori who, of course, had some experience with babies. They named the small boy Xalo, knowing it was the name Elphaba and Fiyero had had in mind for their baby if it would be a boy. They did not know when, if ever, Fiyero would come out; but they were determined to take good care of his son until he would be able to do it himself.

After spending three days in solitude, Fiyero emerged again, looking dishevelled. He hadn't shaved or washed and his eyes were bloodshot. He still did not speak, not acknowledging anyone in any way. He ate and drank, but only a little. He didn't visit or ask about his son and he didn't seem to hear anything Glinda or his parents were saying to him. Instead, he spent all his time at the cemetery in the far corner of the gardens around Adurin Iir, sitting on a stone bench beside Elphaba's grave and staring at it without moving.

Glinda sat with him sometimes and even though she knew he wouldn't talk to her, she still did talk to him.

"I miss her, too, you know," she said one day.

Fiyero briefly glanced at her before training his gaze on the grave again.

"She was my best friend," Glinda continued softly. "She still is – she always will be. She was the best friend I ever had…" She sighed, a tear slowly making its way down her cheek. She did not wipe it away.

"And it's horrible," she whispered, "the way she died. It should have been a happy moment, one of the happiest of your lives."

Fiyero didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," Glinda said.

Fiyero slowly nodded.

"Me, too," he croaked.

Glinda's head whipped around and she all but gaped at him, amazed at the fact that he had spoken again after over a week of silence; but she tried not to let her surprise show.

"I know you're grieving, Fiyero," she said, "but this isn't the right way to do it. She wouldn't have wanted it to be like this."

He turned his head to look at her and she took his hand in hers, determined to get through to him this time.

"She would have wanted you to go on," she spoke. "She would have wanted you to try and be strong, to take care of your son… please, Fiyero. I know it's hard and knowing how much you love her, I can't possibly imagine what you must be feeling right now… but we need you. Xalo needs you. Please."

He was still looking at her, tears in his eyes now. "Xalo?"

"We named him," Galinda admitted softly. "Your mother and I. Elphie told us about the names you two had in mind for the baby… she said that if it turned out to be a boy, you would want to name him Xalo."

The tears were still there. "We did."

Glinda smiled carefully. "Will you come inside with me?" she asked hopefully.

He returned his gaze to the grave for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then he nodded slowly. "Okay."

Trying not to show him how relieved she was, she rose and brushed off her skirts, then held out her hand to him. He took it and stood as well, numbly following her as she led him back to the castle.

Gently yet firmly, she made sure he ate a hot meal and drank a glass of water. She then ushered him upstairs and urged him to take a bath and shave. Like a mother taking care of her child, she laid out some nightwear for him and waited until he was finished before taking him to bed, tucking him in like he was a small boy.

"Just go to sleep, Fiyero," she whispered, hugging him gently. "You'll get through this, I know you will."

She stayed with him until he had fallen asleep and then she quietly slipped out of the room, reassured that he would be alright now.


"Fiyero?" she whispered, reaching out to stroke his hair, but her fingers touched only air. She closed her eyes for a moment, pained, before opening them again to look down at him.

"He can't feel you," a voice behind her spoke. "He can't feel you, or see you, or hear you. You are non-existent to him. You're dead."

"No," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "I can't be. He needs me. My baby needs me."

"You're dead, Elphaba." The owner of the voice placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know why you are even still here. It's been too long already. You should go."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him. Either of them."

"Elphaba, you have to go," the voice spoke softly. "You have to move on. All the dead move on."

She choked out a mirthless laugh. "I've never been like everyone else. Why start now?"

"Elphaba," the person said urgently. "If you don't leave this place soon, if you keep hanging around here… the portal to the netherworld will close. You won't be able to move on after that. At all. You'll be trapped here forever."

"I can't leave them," she whispered.

"You have to."

She turned around, looking at the entity that had guided her – or tried to do so, anyway – since she had passed away.

"I'd rather be trapped here forever," she said quietly, "than leave them behind."

"You don't understand," he said gently. "You'll be invisible to them, Elphaba. You won't be able to communicate with anyone."

"I'll be able to watch over them," she said. "And I'll wait. I'll wait forever for them if I have to."


Fiyero awoke with a start and her name on his lips.

He had dreamt about her. He dreamt that she was standing right next to him, smiling down at him as she ran her fingers through his hair. He told her he loved her and her smile widened. She had opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly, she had been dragged backwards by some invisible force. She tried to hold on to him and he tried his hardest to hold on to her, but whatever was dragging her back was stronger, and eventually her fingers slipped from his and she disappeared with a cry of his name.

He looked around him, confused for a moment, before remembering what had happened. He exhaled slowly. He had to be strong now. For his son.

He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands as he tried to wake himself up. He was just about to get out of bed when the door opened quietly and Glinda and his mother came in, the former carrying a tray with food, the latter carrying Xalo.

"You're awake!" Glinda said in surprise, gingerly placing the tray on the desk. She moved over to the bed to hug him. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged listlessly and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Yero." Lori sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her free arm around him, holding him tightly. When she pulled away, she gently placed Xalo in his arms.

Fiyero looked down at his son, feeling a lump in his throat. A part of him felt incredibly guilty for neglecting him; but another part of him could still hardly bear to look at the baby boy. Everything about him just screamed 'Elphaba!' at him.

"Be strong, Fiyero," Lori said softly. "For him."

Fiyero swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat, but it didn't work. He nodded.

"I'll try."

Lori smiled tearfully at him and he stared down at his son again, tears pricking his own tears at the sight of the large eyes that were already slowly starting to turn brown, the heart-shaped face, the long limbs… he looked so much like his mother already.

"He's the perfect blend of both of you," said Glinda, as if she was reading his mind; but Fiyero shook his head.

"I don't see it," he whispered. "I only see her."

Lori embraced him again. "Oh, Yero…"

"She's really gone, isn't she?" he asked her in a small voice, the sound of which broke his mother's heart.

"Yes, sweetheart," she whispered, holding him and stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. She's really gone."

He sobbed, clinging to his mother. "How can she be gone?" he asked her in a voice that sounded pathetic even to his own ears. "She's not supposed to be gone…"

"I know, Yero." Lori kissed his hair and rocked him back and forth, like she had done so many times in an attempt to sooth him when he had been upset as a little boy. "I know."


I suppose you all hate me again now? *jumps away to avoid getting hit by a pitchfork* Ah, I see. *runs off* You'll never catch me!