DISCLAIMER: The characters of Wicked that you recognise here are the property of Stephen Schwartz and the producers and creators of the show. I'm just borrowing them for my leisure.
Chapter 9: Sanctuary
Despite the circumstances, Fiyero was happy to be home in the Vinkus and he had a whole list of places he wanted to show Elphaba. After all, this was going to be her new home, and the land she would reign over by his side as queen. But his father's health loomed over him like a bomb waiting to explode, and Fiyero was frustrated by the lack of information he was getting on his father's condition.
"Why can't they give us an idea of how long he's got?" he demanded of Elphaba, the day after they arrived.
"They did-"
"'Up to five years' is not a timeframe, Elphaba. It's a guess," he shot back.
"I don't even understand what it is he has. How hard is it to use simple words? Instead of… what did the doctor say it's called?"
Elphaba was reading the information that Kasmira had passed onto Fiyero from the doctor when he had asked about exactly what his father's condition was.
"Dilated cardiomyopathy," she answered. "I think I get it… basically, the ventricle of the heart stretches and enlarges and can't pump enough blood to the body. The doctor seems to think it happened after your dad's first heart attack, and caused the second."
"And now we're just waiting for his heart to give out," Fiyero said miserably.
"Yero, it could be-"
"Five years, I know," Fiyero sighed. "Or it could only be months. Why didn't they pick this up two years ago?"
Elphaba was sitting cross-legged on the bed in Fiyero's bedroom, watching as he paced the room impatiently.
"You know what I don't get? How my parents have just accepted it. All my Dad seems to care about is that the doctor and my mom won't let him have salt!"
Elphaba hesitated. "I think… Yero…"
"What? What's that face?" Fiyero demanded, seeing her expression and stopping in his tracks.
"I kind of think that maybe… your parents have accepted it so well because… because it was picked up earlier."
Fiyero stared at her and then as realisation dawned on his face, he sank onto the bed next to her.
"Oh. You think they've kept this from me for two years? That means… that means he's already cut into his five years."
"I'm sorry, Yero," Elphaba said softly.
"What do I do?"
Elphaba took his hand. "You make the most of the time you have with your dad," she said simply.
He squeezed her hand lightly.
"Yeah. You're right."
Lurlinemas was a quiet affair with the royal family that year, and although they made her welcome, Elphaba couldn't help but feel like she was intruding. But it was still the nicest Lurlinemas Elphaba could remember having, even if the holiday made her miss Nessa more than ever.
"Write to her," Fiyero urged her gently on Lurlinemas night when Elphaba confessed this to him.
"I've been trying since we got here," Elphaba exclaimed. "I just… I don't know what to say to her. It's been three months, Yero. I just abandoned her in the middle of the night. How do I apologise for that?"
"She's your sister. I'm sure she'll forgive you- she probably misses you. She'll be so happy to hear from you, she won't be able to be upset."
Elphaba sighed. "I'm not sure if it's just really obvious that you haven't met my sister before; or if you're just such an only child," she replied.
Fiyero wasn't the only one who was urging Elphaba to contact her family, but Kasmira approached the matter differently.
She was having tea with Elphaba and Fiyero one afternoon shortly into the new year when she broached the subject.
"Have you written to your family yet?"
"No," Elphaba admitted. "I've tried to write to Nessa, but I just can't get the words right."
"What about your father?"
Elphaba cringed in response, which was answer enough.
"I'm not exactly sure I understand your relationship with your father," Kasmira said. "Fiyero said he hates you?"
"That's pretty accurate," Elphaba nodded.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," the queen tried to reassure her.
Elphaba paused thoughtfully trying to choose her words carefully. "Well… before my sister was born, he tried to make sure she wasn't green by giving my mother milkflowers. Which, you know, makes sense in a way, they're used to treat skin ailments. But in Munchkinland, the sap is traditionally used to remove warts. I think that says it all."
Fiyero choked on his tea "Excuse me?! It's a wart remover?! Why didn't you mention that?" he demanded of Elphaba.
"Because I knew you'd make that face," Elphaba replied tiredly.
"What face?"
"That face," she pointed at him.
Fiyero tried to wipe his face blank of any emotion.
"Look, I'm not saying my father sees me as a wart. I'm saying it's a possibility."
She sighed. "Look, the facts are that I ran away from home nearly four months ago, and he hasn't tried to find me. Doesn't that say enough?"
Kasmira and Fiyero couldn't argue with that.
Elphaba liked Fiyero's parents very much, and she tried to be as open as possible as they made an effort to get to know her. She was sure that they were still making up their minds about her and how they felt about her marrying their son, as polite as they were being.
She was also trying to give them their space where she could. Thankfully, Werillah Ev had a fabulous library where Elphaba was more than happy to spend her time whenever she got the chance.
"I see I'm not the only one who's sought sanctuary in here."
Elphaba jumped slightly and looked up from her book to see Ibrahim taking the armchair next to hers.
"Sanctuary?" she repeated, frowning inquisitively.
"Sometimes it's nice to have ten minutes without someone hovering over you," the king explained.
"Fiyero?" Elphaba guessed and he nodded. "He means well."
"I know he does," Ibrahim smiled. "What about you?"
"Oh," Elphaba said. "No, I'm not hiding. I just… I've been trying to give you some space. As a family."
"A family which now includes you," Ibrahim reminded her gently.
Elphaba chuckled faintly. "I've been here for five minutes. It's not exactly the same."
Ibrahim looked at her silently for a moment.
"What are you reading?" he asked her.
Elphaba held it up for him to see. "A book on the history of the royal family," she said a little sheepishly.
"Fiyero says you like history. Are you planning to major in it at Shiz?"
"I don't know. I have to get in before I can major in anything."
"I'm sure you'll be accepted," Ibrahim said confidently. "So, what do you want to study?"
Elphaba wrinkled her nose. "Everything?" she replied tentatively. "I can't decide," she admitted with a faint sigh.
The king chuckled. "I was the same," he reassured her.
"How did you decide?"
They spent the next twenty minutes talking about university and the courses available, Ibrahim telling her stories of his college days.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty," a voice interrupted.
Both Elphaba and Ibrahim looked up. A tall, thin man with greying hair and a goatee was standing there, looking to Ibrahim.
"Ah, Avaric," Ibrahim greeted the man. "Elphaba, this is my Private Secretary, Avaric Tenmeadows. Avaric, may I present Elphaba, Yero's fiancée."
Avaric couldn't hide his surprise.
"Fiancée? Forgive me, sire, I was unaware congratulotions were in order."
"Well, we're keeping it quiet for now," Elphaba said hastily, getting to her feet quickly.
Avaric turned an appraising eye on her slowly. "I see. Well, rest assured, Miss Elphaba, my lips are sealed," he promised her, offering her his hand.
Elphaba forced a smile and gave him her left hand. Something about the man made her feel uneasy, but she couldn't figure out why.
Avaric raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it lightly. Elphaba had to suppress the urge to pull her hand away.
"Congratulotions, Miss Elphaba. I wish you and Prince Fiyero much happiness."
"Thank you."
"Did you need something, Avaric?" Ibrahim asked his advisor. "You're still on holidays, you know."
"Yes, sire, but I'm afraid there's a small matter that cannot wait," Avaric said apologetically.
Ibrahim nodded with a weary sigh. "Of course. Let's go to my study, shall we?"
"Oh no," Elphaba said hastily as the king made to get up. "I'll leave, it's fine. I'm supposed to go meet Yero anyway. He said something about wanting to show me somewhere in town," she excused herself and hurried away.
She found Fiyero and Kasmira in the queen's parlour, and she knocked hesitantly.
"Hey," Fiyero greeted her.
"Hi. Sorry to interrupt-"
"You're not interrupting, Fae," Fiyero reassured her gently. "You in the library again?"
"Yeah, I was talking to your dad. I just left him with Avaric."
"Avaric's here?" Kasmira asked her in surprise.
Elphaba nodded. "He said there was some matter that couldn't wait."
"Oh, I hope he's not going to get him riled up. He's supposed to be taking it easy," the queen fretted and hurried out of the room.
Fiyero reached for Elphaba's hand and gently drew her onto his knee to sit. "So, you met Avaric?"
"Yeah. How long has he worked with your parents?"
Fiyero frowned thoughtfully. "I think about fifteen years, or something like that."
"Your father introduced me as Elphaba and told him we're engaged. He didn't mention my last name. You don't think Avaric would put it together would you? I just don't want someone to mention something to my father before I find a way to."
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Fae. I'll check with my parents anyway to make sure no one mentions anything," Fiyero reassured her. "So, you were talking to my dad?"
Elphaba nodded. "Yes. Just about Shiz. He was trying to help me pick a major."
"How'd that go?"
"Well… we never quite landed on a decision. Somehow we got side-tracked and he was telling me the story of how he broke his leg on a fishing trip."
Fiyero groaned. "Oh, Oz. I'm sorry. I swear, I can recite that story better than he can- I've heard it that many times," he complained.
Elphaba laughed slightly. "It's ok, it was a good story."
"It's only a good story the first ten or so times you hear it," Fiyero made a face.
Elphaba didn't have any similar family stories. Of course, she could probably recite Frex's often-repeated lecture on how she was an embarrassment to the family name, but that wasn't quite the same thing.
"What were you and your mom doing?" she asked, changing the subject.
Fiyero shrugged. "I was just filling her in on some of the stuff I'd done in the Emerald City. Business stuff. Nothing too important. Do you want to go out somewhere?"
"Sure," Elphaba agreed.
Over the next few days, Fiyero took Elphaba out to see some of the different royal residences throughout the Vinkus, including Chorimall Irr, the castle which had ignited Fiyero's passion for architecture.
They hadn't left the castle grounds too often since their arrival, due to Fiyero simply wanting to spend time with his parents and Elphaba wanting to keep a low profile. Plus, it was cold and snowing a lot. When they did go out, she was careful to take off her engagement ring, so as not to alert any press to the news of the engagement.
The press had discovered the king's second heart attack however, so were primarily focused on that. They mentioned that Fiyero had returned home and brought a girl home with him, but the only one to really speculate on their relationship was a Vinkun-based tabloid, and they had no more information than Elphaba's first name, so Elphaba wasn't too worried about the news getting back to Munchkinland.
Although Chorimall Irr was absolutely beautiful, Elphaba's favourite had to be Kiamo Ko. The royal family had never lived there, Fiyero informed her, it had been built as a fortress in case of times of war.
"It's got tunnels and secret passageways and everything," he enthused. "It's also the only haunted royal residence."
Elphaba rolled her eyes. "You know, for a guy who's afraid of ghosts, you know a lot about them."
"I'm not afraid of ghosts, I am wary of ghosts," Fiyero corrected her. "It's always good to know where they are."
Elphaba sighed. "Alright. I know I'm going to regret this, but tell me about the ghost."
"It's not as good as The Duke's Footman story," Fiyero admitted, again sounding rather regretful for someone afraid- sorry, wary, of ghosts.
"There's just supposed to be some servant girl who died here, I think."
"You've never lived here, but you had servants living here? Or at least dying here?" Elphaba asked.
"I'm a little vague on the story," Fiyero confessed. "Like I said, it's not that interesting. My dad would probably know. I'll ask him when we get back."
"How do you think he's going?" Elphaba asked him as they left Kiamo Ko.
Fiyero sighed thoughtfully. "I don't know, it's hard to tell. I think he's trying to act like he's ok in front of me, you know? I swear he thinks I'm still three and not twenty-three, you know?"
"You're his only child," Elphaba said soothingly. "I think it's understandable he wants to protect you. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"How are you doing?" Elphaba clarified.
"Oh… I don't know that either," he said with a weak smile. "I think not knowing exactly how much time there is makes it harder. How did you cope? With your mom?"
Elphaba hadn't expected that question. "Fiyero, I was three," she reminded him. "I barely remember her, let alone how I felt when she died. All I know is she was there one day and gone the next."
"What do you remember of your mom?" Fiyero asked her gently.
Elphaba paused thoughtfully. "I remember… I remember her helping me feel the baby move in her stomach. At least, I think I do. I can't be sure if it's a real memory or not," she shrugged.
Fiyero wrapped an arm around her shoulders tightly in comfort.
When they returned to Werillah Ev, they were informed by the butler that the king and queen were in the parlour and waiting for them.
"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?" Fiyero murmured.
"That sounds like a guilty conscience to me," Elphaba replied with a smirk and he made a face at her.
When they entered the parlour, they found Ibrahim and Kasmira waiting for them with a candle-lit cake and champagne.
"What's this?" Fiyero asked his parents warily.
"Well, it's for your birthday," Kasmira answered with a smile. "You weren't here for us to festivate with you; and then with Lurlinemas and your father…"
Fiyero sighed. "I know. December birthdays are the worst," he grumbled.
Kasmira and Ibrahim shared a look, they'd heard this complaint many times before.
"So, it's a little late-"
"It's a month late," Fiyero interjected.
"Fiyero," his mother said exasperatedly.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Thanks, guys. Really."
Once cake and champagne had been served to all except Ibrahim, who had water instead, the king raised his glass.
"Well, I'd like to propose a toast. To Fiyero, for his twenty-third birthday. Happy birthday, son."
It suddenly occurred to Fiyero that because he hadn't spent his birthday with his parents; there was a chance this would be the closest thing he got to a final birthday with his father. And he wondered if the same thought had occurred to his parents.
"Thanks, Dad," he said quietly.
"So, Yero," Kasmira turned to him, sounding too bright to be sincere. "Tell us more about how you actually spent your birthday. The museum gala, you didn't say much about it."
Fiyero shrugged lightly. "It was fine. Fae had her own Cinderella moment," he grinned at his fiancée.
Elphaba rolled her eyes.
"Hey, you said it, not me," he reminded her.
"What was your favourite fairytale, Elphaba?" Kasmira asked her.
"She likes the really disturbing ones," Fiyero told her and his fiancée rolled her eyes at him again.
That led to a conversation about fairytales until Ibrahim announced his intention to turn in.
"Are you ok, Dad?" Fiyero frowned. His father looked rather pale.
"I'm fine," Ibrahim answered.
"I'll walk you up, dear," Kasmira said, starting to rise.
"I'll do it, Mom," Fiyero hastily jumped up.
"I don't need an escort," Ibrahim protested tiredly, but Fiyero remained standing nonetheless.
As they made their way up towards the master bedroom, Fiyero was still watching his father carefully.
"Dad, are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Fiyero," Ibrahim sighed.
"Ok, ok. I was just checking."
Fiyero hesitated and sighed. "Dad, you know I'm not a kid anymore. You just said it downstairs like half an hour ago, I'm twenty three. You don't have to protect me from stuff."
Ibrahim looked to him and smiled. "Yero, when you have children of your own one day, you'll realise that no matter how old they are, you will always want to protect them."
"That sounds like something mom would say," Fiyero replied.
"Where do you think I got it from? Your mother is a wise woman, Yero. It's why I married her."
Fiyero smiled faintly.
"And," Ibrahim continued solemnly. "I know that I can count on you to look after your mother after I'm gone."
Fiyero's smile turned to a wince in an instant. "Dad-"
"You didn't want me to protect you, I'm not protecting you," Ibrahim interrupted.
They reached the doorway to the master suite, and Ibrahim turned to Fiyero.
"I'm very proud of you, Yero. Your mother and I both are. You've come a long way in the past few years. I only wish I could be here to see you as king."
A lump appeared in Fiyero's throat. "Well, I learned from the best," he said, trying to sound light and failing.
Ibrahim smiled and reached out to hug Fiyero tightly. Fiyero returned it without hesitation.
"Love you, Dad."
"Love you too, Yero," his father replied.
That was all that had to be said, really.
AN. The stuff about how the milkflowers are used came from actual facts on the milkweed plant. Including the use of the sap as a wart removal.
