Author's Note: I wasn't going to post this until at least tomorrow, but it's by far my favorite little cliffhanger, and I couldn't resist.

Chapter Three: The Reasons Why

"I've written a letter to the leaders of the Yunamata and Scrow asking them what they think might be advisable," he told her the next morning after breakfast.

"Understandable. If they would like, they are welcome to meet with me as well. I don't have to stay here. I can head that way and give you some space and time to think and weigh your options."

"No, no, stay." He said a little too quickly. "They can come here if they would like to discuss this." Fiyero smiled at her. "It's nice having you here."

"I'm not here to keep you company or entertain you, Fiyero. You understand that, right?"

"I do. It doesn't mean you can't have a conversation with me, anyway. I'm in no mood to discuss the possibilities of going to war today. I'm not going to insist that you talk to me, but I wouldn't mind a healthy debate or political discussion. It's been too long since I've had one."

"A political discussion will probably lead you right back to the war, Fiyero."

"As long as you're not pressuring me to make a decision, I'm fine with that. In fact, why don't you start by telling me why you hate the Wizard so much, Fae?" He folded his arms across his desk and looked at her expectantly.

"There are so many reasons."

"Start with one."

"The senseless killings of the Animals and their sympathizers. All they ever wanted was equal treatment, and he couldn't give them that so he decided to silence them, instead. And when making them keep quiet didn't work, he decided to kill them."

"This is about Dr. Dillamond, is it?"

She glared at him. "You weren't even at Shiz, then. You couldn't possibly understand."

"You don't think I've seen pointless death? Half the time my tribe is fighting another tribe over things that don't even matter, Fae. I get that. It's why I've tried so hard to keep things civil since I took the throne. For my father it was all about pride, but I'd gladly lose a little pride in order to keep people alive."

The vehemence with which he spoke shocked her; the passion threw her for a moment. "I'm not saying you haven't seen death. I'm saying the Wizard is abusing his power. That's not what was happening out here."

"No, it wasn't. Unfortunately, sometimes my people are just as uncivilized as the Wizard thinks they are, and that's what was happening out here."

"Your people aren't uncivilized, Fiyero. They're just different. Like the Quadlings. And when he's done with them, he'll…" She stopped, remembering that he'd asked her not to continue to try and persuade him, though she meant every word she said. "I apologize."

"No, no, go on. Tell me why you think we're next, Elphaba."

"Does the Wizard ever bother to meet you when you're in the City, Fiyero?"

He lowered his head. "No."

"Not even with his ridiculous contraption?"

"Not once."

"But he sees the Munchkinland Eminences when they're in town. He speaks with the Gillkinese nobles, doesn't he?"

"He does."

"Before he started killing Quadlings, he began ignoring their leaders. It's a sign. And you've never noticed the Gale Force surveying your borders or your land before? Because I've heard word of it. There's no way you haven't, Oh Chieftain of the Arjikis," she spat mockingly.

"I have. It was nothing."

"And what makes you so sure? Who told you?"

"I rode out and met them once."

"So they told you? And you believe that?"

He slammed his fists down on his desk, scaring her. "You don't understand what it is like out here, Elphaba! I have to be careful. I do realize the Wizard isn't fond of us. If I made a big deal of the Gale Force coming out here, we'd be dead. Their weapons are more advanced than ours, and their people better educated! I can't afford to fight him."

"Not alone," she whispered.

He got up and walked to the window. "For Oz's sake, tell me what you can offer me that won't get all of us killed? Or do you care at all?"

"More troops. Actual weapons. Magic." But she knew that wouldn't be enough. His people would never learn how to use such things. They'd end up being only shields for the more advanced troops that would come after. The Vinkuns would be used only to weaken the Wizard's forces before the stronger magic and complicated weaponry came their way. Maybe half of them would live, if they got lucky. She wasn't much for the idea of genocide, but she reminded herself that they had no choice. These people would be dead in years or maybe months if they didn't fight.

"I took a risk allowing anyone from the Resistance to come out here at all. If they found out you're here…" He shook his head.

"Why did you do it, Fiyero? If it's such a risk, then why?"

"Because you're right, Elphaba. We're probably next. And he's never been fair to us. The question is whether that's worth fighting for. If we're quiet and don't make trouble, maybe he'll let us be, maybe the tribes can flee Oz. We're nomadic for the most part; living outside of Oz wouldn't be difficult. But jumping into this would mean death, and a lot of it. Running would be safer."

"You aren't a coward."

"I have more than just me to worry about, though."

She knew he was thinking about his children, his people. Elphaba softened a little despite herself. "I know. This can't be easy. You have a lot of responsibility for one person."

"You would've had quite a bit, too, wouldn't you? Eminent Thropp?"

She knew her great-grandfather was still alive. She'd kept up-to-date on political goings-on enough to know that. When he did finally die, she knew it would be Nessa to take his seat. "I never wanted it."

"And you think I wanted to be king?"

"I didn't shirk my responsibility, if that's what you're trying to say. I had a greater one, to this cause, to making things right. I needed to do this, no matter how hard it made it. This was the way I had to live."

"And how, exactly, have you lived, Elphaba? Do you even eat? You were underground for years."

"I eat." When she could. She wasn't going to tell him that this was the first time she'd had three meals a day since Shiz.

"What about living? Do you have a home? Do you have friends? A job?"

"This is my job. These people are… my comrades." No, they weren't her friends. "And I have a place. It will probably be gone when I get back. It doesn't have your modern luxuries, since no one even knows anyone is living there, but it was a roof over my head." She'd had an old bedroll and a torn blanket, a cat to keep the mice at bay and a change of clothes. That's all she needed, wasn't it?

"Are you happy?"

"I'm doing what's right. I don't think it's about being happy, not for me, Fiyero. I couldn't live knowing what was going on, how our world was working. Even if it meant I had to suffer, I had no choice. You understand that, don't you?"

"I don't. But I doubt you can understand the way I live. I don't mean to pass judgment. We're both different. That's all there really is to it."

She found herself smiling a little at that. "Perhaps that is all." After a moment, she asked what she'd been afraid to ask. "Have you heard anything of my sister?"

He shook his head. "Not since Shiz. I know she took a sorcery course or two. After that, she went back to Clowen Grounds. I know she threatened to kill you if she ever saw you again. But that's it, I'm sorry to say. I can write to Glinda or Avaric, ask if they've heard from her."

She grabbed his hand across the desk "Don't. That'll make them suspicious. I don't… I don't want to speak to them. I don't want them to know. I can't."

He cocked his head and looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "That's your prerogative. I won't invade your privacy. But I know Glinda missed you. She probably still does."

"Please don't talk about that," she murmured, swallowing hard. Glinda and Nessa had been what had made leaving the hardest, and she'd avoided thinking of them at all costs. She shouldn't have even asked about her sister, but she hadn't been able to help herself.

"I'm sorry, Fae," he whispered, squeezing her hand and then dropping it. "It can't be easy, can it?"

"No, and I'd rather not talk about it any further." She hugged herself for a moment. "I'm glad that you're doing well, though. I realize maybe your personal life isn't what you wanted, but at least you're alive and healthy. It does make me happy to hear that most of the old group is doing the same."

He reached across his desk and touched her chin for a moment. "It is nice to see you, too." Fiyero drew his hand back and sighed. "And I'm not nearly as unhappy as I might seem. I have three healthy children and a fertile wife. What's there to complain about?" He laughed, though it seemed forced.

Her cheeks were burning and she folded her hands in her lap. "What about your parents? Are they still around? Did you have siblings? I don't recall learning much about your family when we were at Shiz."

"My father died in a fight with one of the other tribes. It's… it's part of the reason I wanted to stop all the infighting. As you well know, we have enough danger from outside the Vinkus. Fighting amongst ourselves will do no good. And my mother died shortly after I was born, so I have no siblings."

"That's terrible. I'm sorry."

"It's the way of life out here. If I were to die tomorrow, my children would probably go on much like I did. Sarima might be a little angry and sad, but she'd move on just as well."

Her father had never moved on from her mother. He had dwelt on her death for years, always reminding his daughters what their mother would've wanted. Frex had always looked at Shell with a mixture of pride and hatred; pride for his only son and his only normal offspring, hatred for the child who had taken Melena from him. She merely shook her head.

"Like I said, things out here are different. Appetites are different, love is different, marriage is different, so is family. I was born into this. It's who I'm supposed to be."

"But is it who you wanted to be, Fiyero? Or do you want to be more? You could be the king that frees his people from the Wizard's clutches, who fights for what is right."

"I know that, Elphaba, and you promised we'd drop that."

She cackled softly. "Force of habit, I suppose."

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nothing's stopped you before."

"This is a bit more of a delicate question."

"Really? You've dug into my personal life, into my family, and into my reasons for living the way I do. What could you possibly have to ask that's more delicate than that?"

"Fine. May I take you to bed?"

"What?"