If the Shoe Fits
Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked.
Summary: Fiyero's found the girl of his dreams, only he has nothing to go by but a first name and her ungainly choice of footwear. She's beautiful and impassioned and just being around her makes him feel like he's finally awake. Only she's not quite all she appears to be. Fiyeraba. AU.
If the Shoe Fits - Over Too Fast
Her eyes narrowed as he gaped, two of the most beautifully rich chocolate brown pools he'd ever seen glaring with vehemence. "Stop staring," she demanded as her beautiful features contorted into anger.
"I'm sorry," Fiyero apologized quickly, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. "I didn't mean to, you're just . . ." He breathed deeply, his eyes glazed with adoration. "You're just so beautiful." The words seemed completely inadequate, not even close to describing the stunning creature seated before him. He doubted that even the greatest poets could find the words to describe her beauty and yet such words must have existed. He couldn't believe that anyone could be so beautiful and yet here she was.
She flushed adorably under his praise, her pale cheeks almost matching her red stained mouth. Her eyes fell self-consciously down to her lap and she gathered her dark violet gown around her as though it were a shield. "Thank you," she muttered quietly.
Fiyero shook his head. "You act like nobody has ever told you so before now," he noted, "which can't be true because, well, just look at you. Your eyes . . . your hair . . . your lips . . .
"You're perfection," he finished dramatically.
"Please don't," she told him quickly, lifting a hand to stop him. "It makes me uncomfortable. If you insist on being here either be silent and let me finish my book, or talk about something else. Just stop making such a fool of yourself."
"My apologies," he answered gallantly, bowing at the waist. "I didn't mean to offend."
She glanced up, her eyes stern once again. "I suppose you didn't," she said with an ambiguous shrug. "Oz, you're a mess," she swore as she saw him properly for the first time. "You look like you tried to dress in a food fight."
Fiyero chuckled, glancing down to survey the damage for himself. He cut himself off with an almost sob as he realized how bad it was. There were tears in the fabric of his blazer, and his waistcoat and shirt were badly stained with wine. He was looking messy and out of place in the fine setting, particularly now that he shared it with such a finely dressed young woman.
"Let me help," she said, seeming to take sympathy on him once she saw how distraught he looked. Then again, this didn't stop her from rolling her eyes as she moved towards a small cabinet stocked with the essentials – gin, vermouth, vodka, and club soda. She went through the bottles until she found what she was looking for, moistened a cloth and then gestured for him to approach. "I can't do anything about your jacket, but this should fix the waistcoat," she explained as she held the cloth towards him. Fiyero gave the cloth a blank look, not really understanding what she intended him to do with it. She gave a frustrated sigh and then discarded her gloves as she was forced to come closer and administer the home remedy herself.
"There," she said, once she was successfully able to dab most of the stain out of his waistcoat. "Almost good as new."
Fiyero grinned. "My hero," he told her smoothly. "What shall I ever do to repay you, Miss?"
"El –" she began, but cut herself off. "Ella."
"Miss Ella," Fiyero repeated and brought one of her pale hands to his lips. "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I am Prince Fiyero Tiggular."
She gave him a superior smile, raising an eyebrow haughtily. "I know who you are."
Fiyero started a little as her response caught him off guard. "I just thought – "
"That the reason I wasn't swooning was because I didn't know any better?" she finished for him. "My roommate took great pains to inform me of your reputation. Everyone knows about the 'scandalacious Winkie Prince', although not all by choice."
Fiyero grimaced at the title. It was the first time he'd ever felt ashamed of his reputation.
"I'm actually a little disappointed now that I've met you," she mused quietly and examined him openly.
"Not 'scandalacious' enough for you?" he asked in reply, the words coming out more biting than he intended.
She waved off his words. "I've never met anyone but Munchkins and Gillikins," she told. "I thought you'd look different. Everyone always talks about the Vinkus being inhabited by dark-skinned warriors and nomads, but you just look like any Gillikinese nobleman you could see on the streets of Emerald City, although perhaps a little darker, but nothing beyond what fashion would dictate."
Fiyero shrugged nonchalantly, not allowing his surprise or embarrassment to show. "The royal Vinkan lines are intertwined with those of the Ozma," he explained as though it ought to be common knowledge. "Fair skin is a sign of noble blood and good breeding.
"Most of what you hear about the Vinkus in central Oz is inaccurate at best, narrow-minded and unsubstantiated at worse," he added, his expression darkening slightly as he remembered ShenShen Rosterdam's words earlier. "We are as civilized as Gillikin itself, although after tonight's display I'd say that isn't much of a recommendation."
She paled slightly after the explanation, her eyes widening. "Now I think I'm the one to offend you," she said contritely. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just . . . oh," she complained, her features creased into a tight frown, "there's really no good way to put it, is there? I'm sorry. I have tendency just to say what's on my mind without considering others."
He smiled and shook his head. "It's fine," he assured her. "I'm not offended. More . . . surprised," he admitted. "People are usually relieved that I look so much like them, not disappointed.
"You, Miss Ella, are certainly one of a kind," he finished charmingly. She flushed once again, and Fiyero decided that he quite liked the look of her when she was blushing.
"Tell me truth about the Vinkus," she insisted, changing the subject abruptly. She didn't seem to appreciate being complimented so he would have to be more subtle about it in the future. "If you're going to insist on talking to me, then tell me something interesting."
"What would you like to know?" he asked her.
She bit her lip nervously, her eyes roaming his features. "Your diamonds," she said quietly, glancing away. "I'd like to know about your diamonds."
He was stunned by her response. People rarely noticed his tattoos and rarely asked about them when they did. His hands went subconsciously to his hairline, tentatively touching the silver-blue diamonds that lay beneath his fashionably long fringe. They were the reason he kept his hair long – to hide the tribal markings that separated him from the Gillikinese noblemen she had compared him to earlier.
"They're just tribal tattoos," he answered, unwilling to reveal their significance to a stranger. She gave him an incredulous look, uncannily observant and knowing that he was hiding the truth, but she didn't push him for more details. She graciously changed the subject, asking instead about Vinkus religion and whether they were truly the pagan savages that all of Oz believed them to be.
And so he happily regaled her with tales of his homeland for the rest of the evening, feeling slightly less homesick for her company and attention. Her eyes were bright and curious as he explained some of their customs and how they had their own religious idols in Kumbrica and Lurline. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn't simply let himself fit in to the Gillikin customs around him, and he felt happier for the opportunity.
He continued until she hissed suddenly, jumping from the seat she had taken residence in.
"I have to go," she announced, glancing down at her shoes momentarily.
"Okay," Fiyero said, his smile dropping momentarily. "I'll walk you to your cab."
"No," she insisted fiercely. "I mean, there's no need," she backtracked.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Fiyero," she said, offering her hand. "You have made this evening, dare I say, enjoyable," she said with a wry smile.
"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Ella," he answered charmingly. He paused for a moment, considering his next course of action before pressing on. "May I call on you, Miss Ella?" he asked, unwilling to let this be the end of one of the most magical encounters in his life.
She smiled sadly, shaking her head. "Let's not, Fiyero," she suggested looking more than reluctant to have it end right there. "If it's meant to be, then our paths will cross again," she assured him whimsically.
"And if they don't?" he asked her hopelessly.
"Then I had a wonderful evening," she shrugged. "Perhaps this moment wasn't meant to last."
"Then stay, Ella," he asked her, almost begging as he grasped her hands in his own. They'd been having such a pleasant evening, or at least he'd thought so, and yet she seemed almost desperate to be free from him. He did what he could to prolong their time together. "Don't let it be over so soon."
She shook her head, smiling sadly as she reluctantly pulled her hands from his. "Goodbye, Fiyero," she said simply, leaving no room for protest. She hesitated for a moment, and then – rousing her courage – kissed him chastely on the lips. She sent him one last longing look before sweeping out of the room.
He was still and silent in her wake, slowly coming to his senses. "No," he said aloud as he realized what was happening – that he had just let the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen walk out of his life. He made to chase after her, but it was already too late.
By the time he made it outside, there was nothing left of her but a single glass slipper and the lingering scent of poppies.
Elphaba woke Sunday morning with a terrible migraine and her stomach rolling around like it was caught in a tempest. She tried to bury herself under the covers as her roommate sang loudly about how glorious the morning was and then gossiped non-stop for an hour in a high pitched tone that aggravated Elphaba even when she didn't have a magic hangover.
But eventually Galinda (Upland of the Upper Uplands) got sick of passive-aggressively punishing her roommate for going to a party that she herself hadn't been invited to and went to assert herself more actively. It simply wasn't fair that her strange green roommate got to go to a party attended by the Prince Fiyero Tiggular when the likes of herself, a known beauty, had been unceremoniously snubbed.
The Uplands, for all the show that Galinda put on, did not share the Prince's social circle. They had made their name in the most seedy and undignified way – by dealing in money and futures and buying whatever recognition they could get. No matter how much money her parents acquired, even Galinda Upland couldn't buy her way onto Prince Fiyero's guest list.
Galinda dragged back the covers, unconcerned by the groan it produced in her roommate. "I see you're still green," she said with a sneer, eyeing her roommate with a measured glare.
"Still blonde I see," Elphaba sneered back as though it were a worser sin.
Galinda glared. "I'll have you know that this colour is completely natural," she said ignoring the way her roommate scoffed. A roommate she unfortunately shared a bathroom with and who therefore knew where she hid her Ozian gold colouring for touch-ups.
"I don't know why you would choose to be green," Galinda continued before her roommate pointed it out. "You said the spell would become permanent."
Elphaba groaned, her roommate making it annoyingly clear that she wasn't going to be allowed to just sleep through the rest of the day. "Yes, it does if I wear the shoes for more than four hours.
"As do the shoes themselves," she pointed out meaningfully. "Imagine it, Miss Galinda," she said with a dramatic sigh, couching it in something that the pretty bauble would understand. "Having to wear the same pair of shoes for the rest of your life."
Galinda gasped at the horror.
"It was nice for the night," Elphaba continued, a small but genuine smile pulling on her lips, "but why would I want to spend the rest of my life like that?"
"No. Of course you wouldn't," Galinda said dully, remembering the tall, beautiful burnet that had stood in her roommate's place last night. Who in their right mind would want to be all statuesque and prettified when they could be odd and green?
Elphaba shook her head. She didn't expect Galinda Upland of all people to understand.
Playing at being Ella was fun for the night, but it wasn't real. No matter how terrible it might seem, she'd much rather be herself and be green than pretend to be something she wasn't.
~ to be continued ~
Next chapter: Fiyero and Avaric make plans.
Notes: