Warmth. Sweet, beautiful, delicious warmth. Elphaba shut her eyes tighter against the dawning light and burrowed into the warmth beside her. A low chuckle vibrated through the sheets, and a warm hand tangled through her wild hair. "I'd never have pegged you as a cuddler," Fiyero said, his voice husky from sleep. Her eyes popped open, and she vaulted away from him with a start. Before she could get any distance, he'd hauled her back, tangling their legs together. "Not that I'm complaining. Merely an observation."

"Get out of my bed." Fiyero lifted an eyebrow, but Elphaba shoved off his chest and scrambled to freedom. "Quick. Before they catch you here."

He eyed her a moment, his disappointment carefully muted, and rose languidly from the bed. "Shuffling me out of my own castle? A man could feel a bit dismissed."

She leveled an unamused look. "Yes, because it would be so simple to explain why I have my sister's brand new husband in my bed on the dawn after his wedding night."

"When you put it that way," Fiyero smirked as he stalked toward her, "it sounds so scandalous. Shall we put that to good use?"

"Out."

She pushed him toward the door, but he caught her against him to tangle a hand firmly in her hair. All honey and sin, he cooed, "You know, you look so enticing straight out of bed."

"Yes, I'm sure bed-hair is extremely alluring."

"Oh, it is," he dismissed her sarcasm with his own intensity as he brushed his nose across her cheek to whisper in her ear, "It compels thoughts of how it became tangled. Or might yet."

She blushed at the image he'd painted for her. "Goodbye, Fiyero."

"Wouldn't you rather I stay and help you untangle it?"

"Out."

He released her with a heavy sigh. "Don't pretend you're not tempted."

Her expression softened. "Perhaps." She pressed a hand to his chest, backing him to the door. "But resolved." He grinned widely at her admission, and she rolled her eyes even as her smile betrayed her. "Go. Before you wake the whole castle."

He slipped through her door, her hand clasped in his, and they tiptoed through the empty sitting room. He swung their hands, so much lighter than the heavy-hearted boy from yesterday that she couldn't resist sharing the broad smile that stole across his face. They made it to the outer door before he broke the silence. "You know," he brought their joined hands to his chest above his heart, "I fear you may have addicted me." She lifted an eyebrow. "Waking up with you."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've a wife to think of."

"She isn't who I think of."

"She should be. Go on. Before you talk me into something else terrible."

"Why? Is it working?"

"No," she hissed. "Oz, you're insufferable."

"But you love me for it."

"Do I, now?"

"Don't you?" She flashed an enigmatic smile, and he half-growled at her. "You little minx. Are you trying to tempt me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She grinned. "I don't have to try."

He shook his head at her in mock disapproval and bent toward her. "Well, that is certainly true."

"Prince Fiyero?"

They spun to face a blinking Frexspar rubbing his eyes. Elphaba's face drained of color, and she rocketed away from Fiyero with the shred of decency she might claim. Oh, Oz. Please let him not have seen anything. How would they explain this? What possible explanation could they have?

"What are you doing here?"

Fiyero's wide eyes met hers for a moment before he regained his composure. "I came to deliver Miss Elphaba's necklace. She must have dropped it yesterday, and I didn't want her to worry." Her head jerked to face him, impressed, and he shot her a warning look.

"Very generous of you, young man. But surely you have other concerns this morning. I'm surprised to see you up so early."

Fiyero shrugged. "Well, what's that saying – early to bed, early to rise? Is not steady occupation the cure to mischief?"

"Ah. I prefer the scriptures of course: A lazy man is an abomination. Though I doubt any would fault you today."

The prince's forced smile made Elphaba want to laugh, but the worry that her father would recognize Fiyero still wore his wedding clothes overwhelmed any thought but how to get him out of there. "Yes, well, you've delivered the necklace, for which I am so grateful."

"Are you?" Fiyero leered, and she scowled at him in warning.

"But I'm sure you've more pressing business to see to, yes?"

His eyes caressed her lips enough to heat her cheeks. "Pressing? Yes, I believe so."

"So you'd best be going." She nodded toward the open door with a stern glare.

"Yes, of course." Fiyero bowed to her father and chastely kissed her hand. "A lovely day to you both."

"And to you," Frexspar offered as Elphaba shut the door in Fiyero's face. "As for you," Frex snarled, the sudden change in mood more than a little disorienting, "what is the matter with you? Answering the door in your nightgown? For a married man no less. Are you determined to act like a harlot at every opportunity?"

Elphaba gaped at him, too angry to reply. She shook her head and stormed to her room, slamming the door. And then her eyes fell on the bed, ruffled from the extra person it had held. She sighed.

What was the matter with her?

"There she is," Aruc beamed as Elphaba walked in, breakfast already set before them. "My personal angel, come to deliver me."

"I don't recall any such mission."

"Nonsense, I begged for deliverance, and here you are. Please, save me from another dissection of yesterday's ceremony."

Three pursed her lips, clearly displeased with Aruc's histrionics. "Since when do you refuse gossip?"

"Me gossip?" Aruc held a hand to his chest, an overdramatic act for Elphaba's behalf. "I'll not abide these scandalous lies." He draped an arm along the back of her chair. "I'm far too noble for that. Unless you'd prefer it."

"Where are the others?"

Three eyed her with a condescending stare. "In bed, no doubt. I'd be surprised if we see either today. This is their honeymoon."

"Care to follow their example?" Aruc winked, and Elphaba glared.

"Care to lose your tongue?"

He leaned closer. "That depends how."

Her most murderous glare. "Permanently."

"Mm, I love a girl who commits."

Three set down her fork with a clatter. "Please, try to contain yourselves. I'm attempting to eat my breakfast here."

Shuffling footsteps caught their attention, and Elphaba looked up to see her sister in the doorway. "Nessa!" She jumped to her feet to replace the steward supporting her. "You're up."

Nessa nodded, eyes on the ground. "Did I miss breakfast?"

"We just started. Here," Elphaba helped her sit and gathered a plate of fruit. "Anything else?" Her sister shook her head, and Elphaba began trimming the fruit into bites.

"Where's Fiyero?" Three asked, one hand already smoothing her hair in preparation.

"Asleep," Nessa lied softly, and Elphaba pulled back to search her face for a reaction. The girl's eyes were puffy, as she'd obviously spent the night crying, but they were dry now. Who had wiped them? The steward? Fiyero had clearly not been to see his bride, and she felt a sting of guilt that she knew exactly why.

"So how does it feel to be an old married woman?" Aruc teased, oblivious to Nessa's ordeal. "You look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted. The wedding took more energy yesterday than I'd imagined."

Three's cold voice cooed, "Yes, I'm sure the wedding is what's worn you out. Last night bore no part in it."

Aruc's laugh boomed. "Did Fiyero make me proud, then? You know, I taught him everything he knows in that department."

"Did you now?" Three lifted an eyebrow. "How…unusual."

"Oh, that's not what I meant, and you know it. I prefer women." Aruc's arm found its way around Elphaba again as he grinned down at her. "Very much so." He held a hand up to stop Three. "Exclusively."

"Thank goodness," Elphaba sighed sarcastically. "Now we can all sleep at night."

"Burdened with extraordinary talent as I am, I find I am honor-bound to share my knowledge with others. For the good of mankind." He leaned closer. "Or I suppose more accurately, womankind."

"I see you've no lack of arrogance."

"Well deserved. Shall I prove it?"

"Not if you'd like to keep all your body parts."

"This is certainly an improper conversation for breakfast." Nessa pursed her lips. "In fact, too lewd a subject for any polite conversation."

"Says the only one of us to have committed said act last night." Three tilted her head cattily. "What's the matter, did you not realize marriage meant your deflowering?" Elphaba shot her a warning glare, and the other girl rolled her eyes. "Yes, because I'm the one at fault for speaking the truth. Isn't that what she's always proclaiming?"

"The truth of our spiritual fulfillment," Nessa said, "not these base, disgusting comments about matters better left behind closed doors."

Three adopted what might have passed for a sincere sympathy if she weren't such a conniving creature. "It must have been so hard for you, without a mother. Did no one explain to you?"

"You miserable piece of-"

Elphaba flew out of her seat, but Aruc caught her, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Well, this went sour fast. I think we'd better take a walk."

"Sorry," Three widened her eyes to approximate innocence. "I mean, she's clearly been crying. I didn't mean to be harsh. I-"

"Then don't speak of things which don't concern you," Nessa snapped. She struggled to stand, and Elphaba pushed free of Aruc to help her. "And I'd thank you to think of who you're speaking to so rudely. Prince Fiyero is my husband now, in case you don't remember."

"Yes, of course," Three held up her hands in mock surrender. "I meant no harm, really."

"Do you honestly expect either of us to believe you?" Elphaba hissed. She itched to punch Three's snide little face, but Nessa caught her attention, asking help to leave. She led her sister out, waving Aruc off.

They slipped through archway Fiyero had showed them their first week here and into the western gardens that Nessa so preferred. "He didn't," Nessa confessed softly. "Any of it."

"What do you mean?" Elphaba didn't delude herself that her stall was any less of a lie, but what else could she say?

"Fiyero." Nessa sat at a bench by the broad lilies. "I haven't seen him since the wedding. He spent the night with someone else. Our wedding night," she spat out bitterly. "My husband can't be bothered to jump out of his lover's bed long enough to consummate our marriage."

"But - would you want him to? I mean, considering."

She sighed. "He's still my husband."

"Yes." Elphaba studied the ground. "I suppose he is."

"I saw him on the way to breakfast. He went the other way. He's deliberately avoiding me. The confrontation, I'd guess. He's made it clear he'll carry on however he pleases."

Elphaba tucked a hair behind Nessa's ear. "I'm so sorry, Nessa."

"Why? It's not as if it's your fault."

Elphaba's cheeks might catch fire. "I hate to see you so upset."

"I know, Fabala." Nessa leaned her head on her sister's shoulder. "At least I can always count on you."

"You're making it worse," Elphaba accused as she pushed Fiyero out of the hall. It had taken her an hour to find him, ducking between corridors in the east wing. "She's even more miserable than before."

He leaned his head against the wall, misery weighting him until the carefree smile from this morning seemed like a foreign impossibility. "Oz, woman. What more must I do? I've married her, haven't I? I was honest, wasn't I? I told her what she would be getting. Don't blame me if that's what she got."

"She feels neglected. Unwanted."

"She is!" Fiyero caught Elphaba face between his palms. His intensity surprised her, desperation lining his words, "You are the one I want. You. Only you. Ever."

She ducked her eyes. "Can you at least stop avoiding her?"

He dropped his hands and took a step back. "Why, so she can yell at me for abandoning her on the worst night of my life? So she can try to bully me into bed? No thanks."

"Why are you being so cold?"

Fiyero's laugh was harsh. "Me? Can't think of a reason."

"She was alone. Helpless. What if she needed something? Who would help her?"

A flicker of regret ghosted over his face, proof that despite his anger, he still cared. But his words were callous, "You share her bed. Then I'd be there in a heartbeat."

She shoved his shoulder. "Stop being a cad."

"Stop pushing me off on your sister."

"Your wife," she restated firmly, and he glared at her.

"Well, whose fault is that?"

She drew a weary breath. "This is all so wrong. It was supposed to make everything better, when you married her. Now everything is so much worse."

He shook his head. "You really thought it would be better? How could it? How could it help anyone that I'm desperately in love with the sister of my wife?"

"Fiyero, she needs you."

He shut his eyes. "I suppose that's true enough." The burden weighed visibly on him, one that she knew all too well. She'd found the right tactic, she knew, and despite the weary way he shook his head, she was certain he wouldn't chance any real harm to her sister. She felt her own regret burning on her face. Regret that she'd exploited him yet again. Regret that he so clearly struggled with the burden she'd forced on him. But what could she do? How could she let her sister suffer?

"Please, stop avoiding her." He slumped and nodded. She drew an unsteady breath, "And maybe tonight you could-"

His eyes popped open, jaw set. "No."

"I just mean, not that, but." She swallowed. "Just sharing. Not…anything else."

"No."

His abrupt dismissal exasperated her, and she snapped back, "Well, don't plan on sleeping in my room again. You might as well stay with her."

He caught her chin and tilted her eyes to meet his. The pain there tore at her heart. "Listen to me carefully. I will not now, or ever, sleep with your sister. In any way. In any sense. For any reason. No exceptions. No compromises. No barters. Never. Don't pursue this. Don't."

"But-" She abandoned it at the stern look in his eyes. "Okay."

He drew a heavy breath. "But I will stop avoiding her."

"Thank you," she whispered, half-afraid he'd change his mind.

"I'll make arrangements for her to have help available. So long as we're clear that help will not be me." He ran a hand through his hair. "I did promise to take care of her, whatever my feelings on the matter."

She nodded. He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. "The things I do for you."

"For your wife," she reminded softly.

"Not even a little."

He pressed a lingering kiss where his forehead had been. She let the silence reign for a moment before the curiosity overwhelmed the worry. "Where will you sleep, then?"

"This is a large castle. I'm sure I'll find an empty bed."

"So long as it's empty."

His lips twitched in a smile for the first time since this morning. "Jealous?"

"For my sister's sake."

He sighed. "Yes, of course. Your sister's sake." He twined their fingers together. "So when is our next lesson?"

Elphaba pulled back. "What do you mean?"

"Our lesson. Surely you haven't forgotten them so quickly. I can never seem to stop thinking of them."

She wrapped an arm over her chest. "Well, there's nothing to discuss now, so…"

"What do you mean?" Fiyero dropped her hand, his gaze dark. "How is there nothing to discuss?"

"You can ask Nessa directly. Assuming you'll ever be in the same room as her."

He narrowed his eyes. "So no lessons."

She turned to face the window more to hide from him than to study the scenery. "What could I show you? It's not as if I could demonstrate how to dress her or bathe her or any of the like."

He slipped his arms around her waist, his lips gliding over the nape of her neck. "I think I'd enjoy those lessons very much."

"Don't be uncouth."

"Shan't I?" He buried his nose in her hair, nuzzling her neck. "I have no feelings toward propriety at the moment."

"I've noticed."

"Mm, have you?"

She spun away from him. "Fiyero, stop. This is precisely why we can't continue the lessons."

"Why?" He shook his head. She shot him a stern look, and his jaw tightened. "I can behave, you know."

"Can you?"

He huffed. "If you'd ever ask me to. Beyond reminding me how we can't – quite unnecessarily I might add. Trust me, that fact never for a second escapes me. I am brutally, constantly, endlessly reminded."

"Are you? You don't seem like it."

His eyes blazed. "You're one to talk. If you are so very displeased with my affection, be less alluring."

"Alluring? Now you've gone mad as well."

He leaned close, "Don't pretend you don't know exactly what you do to me."

"And what is that?"

He grabbed her chin, lips descending too quickly for her rational mind to convince her why she shouldn't let those devastatingly delicious lips kiss her. An inch away, he resisted, his breath coming fast and hard against her longing lips. "See. You tempt and tease and drive me to distraction. Oz, you're all I think about. I want you so badly, I fear I'll drive myself mad." His fingers twitched against her jaw, and she leaned halfway across the inch separating them before she caught herself.

"I don't mean to."

"Don't you?"

She shook her head minutely. This conversation had spun most definitely off course.

"Aruc is right. You are a siren. Beautiful and deadly and utterly irresistible." His lips tipped forward the rest of the distance, but she slipped back.

"Fiyero…"

He hung his head. "Please, allow me. 'We can't.'"

"Well, it's true."

"But surely we can still manage lessons. Surely we don't have to abandon the only solace I still take in this miserable excuse of a life."

She tried to convey her sympathy in her face. "You know we shouldn't."

He studied the ceiling. "Because of your sister."

"Your wife."

He balled his hand into a fist. "Yes, my wife. My wife that I didn't want. My wife that you-" He forced his hand into his hair instead. "Fine. No, fine. Only utter civility, on my honor. What then?"

Her face softened. "Fiyero, we can't…" He backed away, shaking his head. Frustrated, the misery on his face tore at her. "Fiyero, be reasonable. It's not a good idea."

He nodded, slow and pained, and turned on his heel to stride out the door. She leaned against the wall, clutching the windowpane to keep from following him. Oz, this was such a mess. How was it everything she tried to make right always ended in misery?

"There you are, beautiful." Aruc strode in, all grins and cheerfulness. "We've been missing you."

"I'm sure."

She stood to walk past him, but he caught her hand. "Leaving so soon? I just found you."

She snatched her hand away. "I wish you hadn't."

"Now, Elphaba." He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Last time we played this chasing game, Fiyero nearly banished me."

"If only he had," she retorted coldly. "Perhaps then you might leave me be."

He pulled back. "You're upset."

She huffed a laugh. "You torment me endlessly with this pathetic attempts to gain an affection I will not have for you, and you wonder that I'd be upset."

"I'm sorry."

"Unlikely," she hissed. "Your persistence is not endearing."

Aruc studied her. "What upset you?" She scoffed, and he shook his head. "No, you were upset before I came in. Though I am sorry to have annoyed you further."

"That's all you do. Annoy me. Pester. Do you think you'll needle me into caring for you? You won't."

She wanted to hurt him, to vent some of her frustration and anger and misery and disappointment and desperation on him, but his eyes only conveyed sympathy. "Fair enough."

She glared at him.

"I'm here if you want to talk about it. Or yell at me. Whatever will help."

"You can't help me. You're worthless, except for a distraction for Nessa or a repository of rude jokes and unsuccessful flattery." He didn't react. Just as Fiyero hadn't, a memory that burned through Elphaba's chest. She wanted either to cry or to set the palace afire. Preferably the latter. "Ugh." She shoved his shoulder. "Are all Vinkan men so thick?"

He smiled gently. "Pretty much."

She stormed out, throwing behind her, "Well, that explains why I can't stand any of you!"