Disclaimer: Same as always.

OH MY GOSH! I cannot tell you guys how happy all the reviews made me!! Thanks so much!!

And now I feel guilty for not updating sooner- as always. It's really a never-ending cycle, isn't it? I tried, honestly- I was even writing on napkins between bussing tables at work. Actually, I think this whole chapter was written on napkins, because I never have time to write at home:D But here it is, finally.

Fiyero stood frozen in shock. The fragile girl lying in- or, more accurately, being swallowed by- the elaborate guest bed was a mere shadow of the Elphaba he remembered. Her skin was no longer a vibrant emerald, but rather a pale, sickly green. She'd lost weight, making her already defined features sharper than usual. Her chest rose and fell quickly with her shallow breaths, and each one was accompanied by a slight wheezing sound.

His heartbeat thudded in his ears as he approached her bedside and knelt. He took one of her hands gently in his own and stroked his thumb over her clammy skin. It would have been better if she were burning up; at least then he'd know that her body was fighting back. But the cool, lifeless feel of her skin made it seem as though she'd already surrendered, and that death was working its icy claws into her even as she lay there, struggling to breathe.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked finally.

"It's a rare form of pneumonia," his mother said softly. "In addition to having trouble breathing, she's been throwing up, coughing up blood….And the doctors, they....it doesn't look good, Fiyero."

"She's not going to die," Fiyero said fiercely, whipping his head around to glare at her. There were tears glistening on his cheeks, and his voice broke as he continued, "She can't."

Helena had always been the most understanding about Fiyero's situation. She had married his father as part of a contract made when they were very young, and she had long had a secret wish that her only son would not be forced to do the same. So she decided then and there that if Fiyero truly cared for this girl, she would do all in her power to see the two of them together.

She moved to kneel beside him, and stroked his hair as he bent over the sleeping girl. "I hope she makes it," she murmured. "For your sake, I truly hope she does."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Elphaba."

Elphaba wondered dully who could be calling her, but the curiosity was fleeting. Then it came again, more persistently. "Come on, Elphaba."

Death, maybe? 'If it's death, I'll go willingly.' A lazy smile graced her cracked lips. "I'm coming," she tried to reply, but her lips wouldn't seem to move. She could see the light; it shimmered beyond her closed eyelids, and she welcomed it.

"Elphaba, please. Please wake up." Something jostled her shoulder lightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut as the light grew brighter. "Too bright," she mumbled, trying half-heartedly to turn away. But whoever it was kept shaking her. "Alright, alright…."

It took her a moment to unglue her eyelids. She blinked rapidly as her eyes were assaulted by the light of an oil lamp, which was being held over her face by none other than a very anxious-

All the air rushed out of her. "You." She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry in frustration; fortunately, she was spared the decision by the fact that she was too weak to do either.

"Yes, me," Fiyero said bleakly. "Elphaba…." He sighed. "Tell me honestly- are you trying to get yourself killed?" Elphaba remained very still as he reached for her small hand and enfolded it in his own once again.

"What-" She was cut off by a round of violent coughing. She tried again. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Her voice was a dry rasp, with none of the hypnotic velvet quality it had possessed before.

"I…" Fiyero contemplated whether or not to tell her, but quickly decided against it; it seemed very possible that if he did, her desire to throttle him would overcome her sickness. "That's not important. I'm here to take care of you, Elphie."

"Elphie?"

Fiyero blinked. "I have no idea where that came from." Then, anxiously, "Do you mind?"

One shoulder rose weakly in an indifferent shrug, and one corner of her chapped mouth turned up. "It's better than some of the things Frex used to call me."

Fiyero arched an eyebrow. "High praise indeed." She smiled again, even as her eyelids began to droop. Fiyero sighed heavily. "Oh, Elphie…" He smoothed her sweaty hair back off her forehead as she let her eyes close and drifted back into a restless sleep.

* * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fiyero woke a few days later to find Elphaba watching him. He lifted his head from the back of his chair, only to wince as he was greeted by the worst crick in the neck he'd had in years.

Massaging his neck with one hand, he returned his attention to Elphaba, who was smirking at him. "You think that's funny, do you?" he demanded, but he smiled to let her know he was teasing.

She nodded.

"Oh? Well, we'll see if you think it's funny when I refuse to let you out of bed at all today." She made a face, and Fiyero grinned. "Didn't think you'd like that."

The doctor had given strict instructions that Elphaba was not to be allowed out of bed for more than twenty minutes each day, no matter how much she protested. And true to Fiyero's prediction, she protested a lot. It seemed like every minute she was awake, she was pestering him to let her go outside, regardless of the fact that she couldn't even stand without support. When that didn't work, she'd resorted to sending him on errands so that she could try to sneak out. Thankfully, he'd returned to the bedroom on her second attempt to find her collapsed on the floor a few feet from the bed, and had since refused to leave the room again unless his mother would stand guard. Now, with Fiyero by her side at all times, there really wasn't much she could do to evade the doctor's orders. Still, she never missed a chance to let him know exactly what she thought of his "mollycoddling".

Fiyero's playful mood began to evaporate as he looked at her. She looked worse today, and as much as he tried to joke to ease the tension, there was no escape from the fear that gripped him whenever he allowed himself to think about how this illness might end.

"How do you feel today?" he asked softly, knowing before she opened her mouth what answer he'd get; it was the same one every morning.

"Better." But he knew she was lying. As if to prove him right, she erupted into one of her frequent coughing fits. Fiyero reacted instinctively. He seized the dishtowel he kept nearby and tugged her hand from her mouth, replacing it with the towel. She clutched it tightly in her clenched fist, and Fiyero rested a soothing hand on her back.

When she was finished, he took the red-spotted towel and placed it on the nightstand by the bed, trying not to look at it. He gently wiped a drop of blood from her lip, and she relaxed against the headboard as if nothing had happened. He wanted to shake her, to ask her why she insisted on pretending to be fine when she so obviously wasn't. But, as always, he kept his mouth shut.

It was Elphaba who spoke next. "Fiyero, something's been bothering me lately." Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper from the coughing, and he wordlessly handed her a glass of water from the nightstand. When she had drained it and given it back to him, she leveled a serious gaze on him and said, "Fiyero, I want to know how you knew where to find me. Why did you look here, of all places?"

'Oh, crap.' He'd been dreading this very question for days. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should be glad that she was bedridden; she could do him less damage that way. 'Get it over with.' "I uh…I live here," he said cautiously, watching her face for a reaction.

Predictably, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. But even as sick as she was, she put the pieces together quickly. "Fiyero…what's your last name?" she asked slowly.

He was silent for a moment. Then,"Tiggular." The word hung in the air as he watched her think it over, expressionless.

Elphaba had been unconscious for the majority of her stay at the palace, but she knew who that name belonged to. "You're the prince." He nodded.

And then came the reaction he'd been waiting for. "Why didn't you just tell me?" she demanded, her voice scratching out each word like a nail against sandpaper. "I came all this way to escape you-" She stopped at the stricken look on his face, already regretting her words- regardless, or perhaps because of, their truth.

There was a long moment of silence. Fiyero had wondered, when he wasn't consumed with worry for her, why she'd gone to such lengths trying to ensure that they would never meet again. But this was the first time either of them had brought the question out into the open.

He looked searchingly into her eyes for a few long seconds, and then he forced a smile that did little to hide his confusion. "Am I really that bad?" he tried to joke. "I mean, to put yourself through all this just to avoid me…that's a little extreme, don't you think?"

Elphaba squeezed her eyes shut. She rolled over onto her side, but not before a tear squeezed through her lashes. "Don't ask me to explain," she whispered. "Please. Just don't."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Glinda was fuming. For two weeks, Fiyero had slaved over that blasted green girl, sitting with her day and night and catering to her every whim.

And if Elphaba Thropp was green, Glinda Upland was positively emerald with envy.

Fiyero had just requested that she keep an eye on "Elphie" while he stepped out to speak with the doctor. She'd complied with a sympathetic smile so forced that she was amazed he didn't see right through it.

Glinda settled herself on the chair by the bed, still warm from the long hours Fiyero had spent in it, and looked with disdain on the girl who absorbed so much of her prince's energy. 'She's not even pretty,' she thought sulkily. 'What could she possibly have that I don't?'

A tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. It just wasn't fair. 'He's all I want, Lurline,' she prayed silently. 'You can take my jewels and my dresses and my money- just give me Fiyero.'

Glinda went back to studying Elphaba. 'Green skin, for Oz's sake…' She pulled back one side of the comforter curiously. Sure enough, the girl's hand was the same revolting green as her face, and it was clutching a brown leather pouch that looked like it might fall apart at any moment. Elphaba grumbled in her sleep and pulled the pouch closer. Her fingers curled around the bottom half of the stained and worn-down leather, leaving the flap and clasp exposed.

'Hmmm…' Glinda strained her ears for Fiyero's voice. He seemed to be deep in conversation with the doctor still. Moving swiftly, she unhooked the clasp and flipped the pouch open. She licked her lips and glanced nervously around the room, and then began to ease out what looked like an ancient book- one careful inch at a time, so as not to wake the green girl.

And then it was out. Glinda sat down with her prize, fully aware that she had about two minutes at the most to look through it. She studied the cryptic writing on the cover, running a finger over the strange symbols. She recognized them instantly as the ancient language- the language of magic, of power."It's a spell book," she murmured to herself. Her eyes flicked back up to Elphaba. Could she read it?

The intense jealousy she'd already been harboring flared; what she wouldn't give to get her hands on this book for more than a few minutes…She flipped greedily through the thick, yellowed pages, and her spine began to tingle; the power in the words was obvious. She could only make out bits and pieces of each spell, but they seemed almost…evil.

She turned another page, and her eyes went wide. She let out her breath in a hiss. "Yes."

This one she could read: 'Complete control over emotions…effortless manipulation… Make him love you…' It was a love potion- a very potent one. Her fingers twitched toward the upper end of the worn parchment, but she hesitated. "Oh, I shouldn't…" she whispered.

She heard footsteps in the next room, and the scraping of a chair being pushed back. One more look at the nearly comatose Elphaba, and Glinda tore the page from the book, folding it up quickly with shaking fingers. Flushed and clumsy with nervous excitement, she slipped the book back into its pouch, and had just tucked the precious paper down the front of her dress when the door opened to admit a beaming Fiyero.

He practically waltzed across the room, and pulled her into a tight hug. Her heart fluttered wildly; never before had he touched her voluntarily. When he pulled away she was breathless, but her smile was as bright as his own.

"What's the occasion?" she asked.

"Good news!" he said excitedly. "She's going to be fine, and it shouldn't be more than a week or two before she's up and walking about."

"Oh…" Glinda's smile faltered, and she turned away so that he wouldn't see her eyes filling with tears. "That's great, Fiyero. I umm….I have to go."

She rushed from the room, and fled down the hallway and around the corner. 'He can not see me cry…' But she knew he wouldn't follow her. The thought stopped her, and she leaned against the wall, panting slightly. 'He's not going to come, Glinda.' Still, she closed her eyes and pretended that he was. She imagined him racing down the hall after her, then gathering her into his arms and-

That was too much. Glinda pressed her face into the cool stone and sobbed.

And now we've got some very fun plot twists coming up. Unfortunately for Elphie (and Fiyero), I have a very twisted idea of fun:D Please review!