There was never any trouble as far as Elphie was concerned. Unless you considered the mere sound of her voice was enough to...
He caught himself and tried to shift the focus of his thoughts elsewhere.
It was bitter cold this mornign and they were huddled up against each other, for warmth, for other things... The blanket was pulled over their heads and it was easy for him to imagine that they were the only things in the world.
He sighed with contentment, turning on his side and bringing himself even closer to her, painfully aware of their mutual nakedness. He worked his arm around and over, his hand eventually coming to rest at the small of her back.
A smile quirked on her lips and she shook her head a little. Was she awake? Dreaming? "You scoundrel," she murmured. "You give me no rest." Shades of Sarima and her recriminations, but Elphie was only teasing and he knew it.
And apparently he couldn't help himself, after all. He grinned sheepishly. "Yes, I'm rude. I'm a barbarian. Perhaps you should teach me a lesson in manners."
"Perhaps I shall."
She had long elegant fingers, he was suddenly reminded of this. "Well, you were always good with your hands. Where did you learn these skills, I wonder."
She removed her hand.
"Best not to quibble over the past," he said quickly.
She laughed, soft and low. "Nice save, my dear. Here you are more green than I."
"That is true," he acquiesced. "I am your willing slave. I have only-" here his voice broke at a sudden rush of flame. He tried to catch his breath.
She laughed again. "Yero, you are such an idiot."
"Yes, a fool. A fool for you, a fool for Fae," he told her. He groaned with pleasure and moved against her.
He opened his eyes to a world still dark, save for the faintest etchings of light in the vague distance.
Those days were long gone, if they had even belonged to him in the first place. They teased and tormented, with the memories of joy, excitement and even the mild contentment. Fear, anxiety, despair, or just a suffocating numbness were the only things left to him. Either that or the rage that they invoked.
Fae was wrong. Some vital part of him had been lost in the barracks. Could it be found again, he wondered. Was it the capacity for pleasure?
He turned his head.
A green blur among a random smattering of color. "Fae," he called softly.
But she was already awake. "What is it?"
"We should make love," he said.
She hesitated before answering. "Oh, Fiyero, I'm not sure that's a good idea."
Sudden anger, like the blast of a furnace. "Why not," he demanded. "You think me not capable now?"
"That's a silly argument-"
"Then we should," he insisted. He pulled himself over her and pressed down on her.
"What the hell-Get off me!"
"We're doing this. Even if I have to-"
"If you have to what? Going to rape me, Fiyero?"
He said nothing, the remark stung, but he was too angry to really care. It did make him pause, though and that was all she needed to free herself. She shoved him off and left the room.
He stayed where he was for a few minutes, stewing in his anger.
Didn't she know? Had she no clue? His train of thought went on like that for awhile, dwindling down to near incoherence. He balled his fists, pressing them down into the bedding. Finally, he got up and went to slam the door. He fumbled for the lock.
From the other side they could hear the lock click. Crope watched as Elphaba shook her head. She pulled a key from a drawer and shook it at the door, as if Fiyero could have seen it.
"What is that about?"
"Oh, he's done things like this before. Well, not exactly that but he gets that way sometimes, he just doesn't remember..."
"You didn't answer me."
"And I'm not going to. He's trying to prove something to himself, and that's all you need to know."
He shook his head in frustration, but what good did it do to argue with her. "He's having memory problems?"
"Are you kidding me? He barely remembers his own name most days, all thanks to the wonderful hospitality of our local Gale Forcers."
"Elphaba, I've already told you this-"
"Yes, fine, alright. We're leaving for Colwen Grounds soon and he'll be better off there."
"Colwen Grounds! That's too far for him to go right now."
"And what? The Mauntery would be safer? With Gale Forcers all over the place?"
"Elphaba, think about this."
"Must you always shoot me down? And hour, maybe two, and then we will stop so he can rest. There's no need for us to rush, I know how to stay out of sight."
"Fine. When will this happen."
"In a day or two. I have been preparing, whatever you may think. And I know people along the way. We can duck inside a hayloft, if nothing else, as the need arises." She hesitated, looking pensive. "I have this growing fear that the Gale Forcers are amassing outside these doors. I fear that they will break down the door and take everything that we have worked so hard for will be taken away again. They needn't torture me, the knowledge of that will be enough." Another pause before adding, "Without his strength of will I would have accomplished nothing."
Fiyero smoothed a layer of rose oil over her stomach and leaning down, kissed the skin there, sucking on it. He laughed at himself, already becoming aroused, and she laughed with him, teasing his hair as she teased him. He moved up, kissing her mouth, and she rose up to greet him, looping her arm around the back of his neck.
He struggled with these images. The anger smoldered again. His face was wet, he realized. Crying again! Angry with himself for being so weak, with her for denying him. He reached for something, anything, and threw it across the room, with all his strength -not much anymore, he thought with some bitterness- there was a satisfying crash as it made contact. He felt a little better, but not enough.
The others in the house all looked up at the sound. Crope again turned his attention back to Elphaba.
"I have to leave him alone for now. Best if this is left to run it's course," she explained, and then turned back to the meal she was preparing.
Later, she took his to him.
"You had a key," he accused, standing up, suddenly incensed.
"Of course, I have the key. You can't lock me out, no matter what you try," she said, trying to tell him many things.
He said nothing, just glared in her general direction. It was dark in here, she noted, and he could only guess by the sound of her voice.
But she knew what was coming and acted to let him work through his tantrum. She set down the bowl, with a clink, to ensure that he would know where it was. Manipulating him as thoroughly as any of the Gale Forcers had, but this time it actually was for his benefit.
His face hardened at the sound. As expected, he moved to throw it on the floor.
Her calmness would anger him further, so she knelt to clean it up without saying a word.
It only took a few minutes. He pushed her roughly to the floor.
"Hit me, Fiyero," she taunted. "Kick me, if you must. Rape me, even." She got back to her feet and locked him in her gaze. "Make me hurt, the way they made you hurt. I want you to do it. Would that I could take some of your pain away, into myself. Strike me down, Fiyero. And then leave me alone in here bleeding and broken, as was done to you so many times. I want you to. But I wonder, will it help? Will you feel better then?"
She faced him, preparing herself. She knew him well enough, she felt, but he had been changed, so who could tell?
He came towards her, his face livid. She closed her eyes, steeling herself. But his fist went wide, striking the wall. She relaxed and looked. Wide enough to be deliberate. Relieved for herself, and him as well, she let out a deep breath. He wasn't that changed...
She wrapped her hand around his wrist and moved his arm away. "I love you," she said firmly.
"Don't say that," he snapped, trying to free his hand.
"Why shouldn't I? Anyone would."
He thought of Sarima and her endless weeping as he, by the rules and customs of his tribe, forced him to take her. He hid behind those rules, to make him feel better about himself. And later, having fallen in love with the infant Irji, such a perfect little person in his eyes, and demanding more of her. Was it any wonder that the children grew to be as cold as their mother? The price for hurting her in his selfish need for love.
And then there was the way he had almost hurt Fae, if not for passion than at least something pleasurable.
"It's not true," he said, feeling cold.
"I love you," she repeated, louder now.
A knot formed in his chest and bitter tears stung at his eyes. He grimaced, showing his teeth, raising his hand again, not to strike her but to wipe them away angrily, infuriated by their presence.
But she seized his other wrist and held it fast. "I love you," she said, enunciating every word.
"Let go of me," he demanded.
"Never," she told him, tightening her grip. "I love you," sotto voce.
The knot dissolved and his legs gave a little. He fell forward and she steadied him. The tears came in a flood and he couldn't stop them and then he didn't care, with Fae's consoling hands, on the back of his head, between his shoulder blades.
Bit by bit, everything came apart, now the grief subsiding, now it overwhelmed again. He crushed her to him; she stroked his hair softly.
"Not a man, not a person," he said. Her own words come back to her. "Nothing feels real anymore. I want to feel something, Fae." It occured to her that maybe he had forgotten her real name too. "It just hurts and sometimes I don't even know why."
Relief seeped in eventually and spent and exhausted he leaned heavily on her. She pushed him back just to where he was sitting on the bed. She dried his face with her sleeve. "Better now?"
"Yes," he said sniffling a bit, reminding her of a child. She wondered, not for the first time, if that was more or less the truth by now.
"You should know that we will be leaving in a few days.
"Leaving?" Suddenly he was alarmed. He hadn't been outside this house in...how long? And only left the room once or twice that he could remember. He felt silly for being afraid of something so trivial, but still...
"We're going to Colwen Grounds. Its much safer, for both of us. Away from Emerald City and the Wizard, his men. And for other reasons, we'll both be better off there than here. But I'm going to leave it up to you. If you'd be more comfortable staying? Or maybe you'd rather go back home to Kiamo Ko."
"They don't need me."
"It's your family," she reminded him.
"Fiyero is dead to them, has been for years. They'll go on as they have since then." He paused. "They don't actually need me or even want me there, so I'm not abandoning them," he said as if to convince himself.
"Alright, then we're leaving, morning after next, for my family home."