Elphaba brushed back her long hair, the curled ends tickling the exposed skin of her elbows. She wasn't sure if she wanted to disappear, hide out in her room, or beg Galinda to make her up like a prize pig.
Had this been a week ago, there would have been no question. But now? She found herself actually looking forward to finding Fiyero, maybe even sharing a dance or two. What was it about him that made her act so ridiculously? The girls flounced around her in preparations, but she found herself missing a crooked smile more than she could enjoy the company she'd come to keep.
She escaped before she could suffer an existential crisis, and hurried down the now very overdressed stairs to the ostentatious ballroom. The chandeliers had even been draped with ribbons, for what purpose Elphaba couldn't say.
Crope bumped into her at the doorway. "Oh, Captain. Have you seen-"
"Yes, lovely, excuse me."
He darted toward the kitchens, and she frowned in confusion at his odd behavior. She turned back, only to slam into Tibbett. "Sorry. I didn't see you."
He gripped both her elbows before she could teeter over in this silly get up. "My fault, certainly. Are you alright?"
"Off balance. But fine on the whole."
He smiled and let go. "Very well. I haven't seen the other ladies yet, but I believe they should be drawn to the dance floor."
"They're still dressing."
He nodded absently. "As women are wont to do." He edged another step, and she saw now that he was trying to leave without being impolite.
She took a step back. "I was hoping to find-"
The hand on her arm caught her breath, and she whirled around. "Avaric?"
"Oh. And there he is." Tibbett nodded a relieved goodbye and disappeared in the same direction Crope had gone.
"Miss Elphaba, a word?" Avaric tugged her elbow, and she whipped it away. "You look so beautiful."
She didn't respond, but her icy stare should be answer enough.
"I came to apologize. For our fight."
It seemed so long ago, but it still burned, low and hard with the ache of resentment rather than anger. "And for betraying me to Morrible?"
He blinked, taken aback. "I did not." He took a step nearer and his voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Truly. I even stayed away. If Morrible's spying on you, I didn't wish to worsen matters."
"And now?"
"Your time is nearly ended. She wouldn't send you away now." His earnest expression wore at her, but no matter the sense he made now, he'd still treated her badly to begin it. "And I couldn't let you leave without seeing you again."
She scoffed.
"To tell you…" He took her hand and kissed it lightly. "You are remarkable, Miss Elphaba. Frustrating, yes, but truly remarkable."
She pulled her hand back and tucked her arms around herself. "I believe the frustrating is accurate at least."
He narrowed his eyes, unimpressed at her attitude.
"Fine. Say I believe you. What can come from it now?"
"We still have tonight. Spend it with me." She bit her lip, and he drew a deep breath. "I know I don't deserve it. My feelings for you…overwhelmed me, and I behaved very poorly. But when I saw you at the play…"
"So this is about jealousy?" Why was she not surprised? Men.
"More a realization of what I'd stupidly let myself lose." He nudged her shoulder. "Come on. Let's get out of this frilly fantasy and really talk."
"Miss Elphaba?" Fiyero came behind him with a frown for the other man. "I believe you owe me a dance?"
A smile crept to her face despite her irritation with Avaric, and she shrugged. "Well, I did get all dressed up."
"I see that." His soft smile hardened as he addressed their audience. "If you'll excuse us." Nothing about the words or tone held animosity, and yet it was there nonetheless.
Avaric caught her hand. "Think about it."
She nodded, and took Fiyero's arm. Bless the boy, he kept any comments to himself as he led her across the room to the dance floor.
The spell felt broken, and the bubble of ridiculous happiness inside her threatened to pop. But Avaric was the one who'd avoided her, and apology or not, he'd picked a fight and ran away. If he wanted to talk, he could wait until she wanted to. If she wanted to.
Fiyero sensed her hesitation, and flashed her a smile. "Don't worry. I'm well known for being a pleasant dance partner."
"As I am for being a reluctant one."
His crooked smile soothed her. "Then I'm honored to have your favor."
He pulled her into his arms. As he whirled them around, she found the combination of the spinning and his smile made for a very dizzying experience. By the end of the song, she clutched his shoulder.
He grinned down at her and touched a soft thumb to her chin. "Despite your poor selling, I found you to be an excellent partner. Might I enjoy your favor a bit longer?"
"I suppose."
He laughed, and she melted into him.
A tiny, traitorous voice whispered a hope. She felt silly even thinking it. His pretty words were scripted, or as good as. That smile that seemed so genuine had to be pretense, unless… What if she let herself believe it? Was that so terrible? He hadn't treated her poorly. And Oz, what girl wouldn't want that grin directed at her?
He brushed a hand over her temple to smooth her hair. "Alright?"
At least he wouldn't run away and then come back at the most confusing time to frustrate her. He'd been here. Beside her.
She nodded, and found she meant it. "If you'd stop fawning and dance."
His raucous laugh couldn't have been anything but genuine. He dipped in a bow, and twirled her tightly to him.
"As you wish."
They lost themselves in several dances, far more than she'd ever done. Song after song, without reservation. Finally, out of breath, she set a hand on his chest.
"Be careful what you wish for, I suppose."
He twined an arm around her waist. "Would you like some fresh air?"
Did she? The memory of the last time spent together in private heated her cheeks, and she drew a steadying breath.
"Why not?" He squeezed her hand and dropped his arm to gesture forward. They weaved through the other guests toward the veranda.
Around a turn, Nessa came in view, and Fiyero slowed. "Do you want to join her?"
Obviously he did not share her interpretation of fresh air. Or, ever the gentleman, he put her potential interests first. She smiled at him, ready to tease him for the chivalry, when Boq dropped awkwardly to one knee before her sister. Her smile dropped. Galinda's confession before made only too obvious now where Boq's interest lay. The boy's eyes darted toward Galinda, even as Nessa clearly held no clue of his true affections. Transported, her poor sister grinned, seduced from her own good sense, as the boy gave whatever halfhearted syncophancy. Oh, poor Nessa. Was she really that ignorant of his insincerity? Or had she chosen to be?
It stung to think, and Elphaba itched to march over and give that munchkin a piece of her mind. But Nessa wouldn't appreciate it, that much she could be certain.
Elphaba shook her head and yanked Fiyero in the opposite direction. He frowned, but followed without comment.
"Watch it!"
She nearly slammed into Pfannee. "My apologies."
"Move!" the girl choked out, half-shoving Elphaba to the side.
Crope coughed awkwardly from his place on the floor. "If you don't mind…"
Elphaba frowned, but sidestepped the pair.
"Go on, dearest," Pfannee cooed, and Crope fixed a rigid smile on his face.
"Would you-"
"I always knew you were attracted to me," Pfannee threw her arms around his neck, toppling them both in a heap on the ground. "Of course I will."
What a load of codswallop! If anything, the play had made startling clear how unattractive Crope found her. He'd avoided her like the plague.
She turned to Fiyero to share the confusion, but something about the way the candlelight illuminated his handsome face made clear more than his strong jaw and fine cheekbones. She was one of those women, too.
Oz.
She thought she could play pretend and not fall for her own lie. Somehow it hadn't felt a game anymore. Some stupid feminine part of her tricked herself into truly believing the prince might choose the frog. Stupid fool.
Her face fell, and she pulled free to wrap her arms around herself.
"Are you alright?" he doted. His worry as he searched her face was so convincing, she wanted to cry. Damn him for being such a great actor. And damn herself for being so silly as to believe him.
"I fear not. If you'll excuse me."
She slipped away. He called after her, followed, but she weaved through the crowd with precision. His confusion only worsened her guilt, but she couldn't face him to explain. He'd only convince her again, she knew, and she couldn't put the blinders back on.
She'd never wanted this. Never. Not a beau at all, let alone a pretend one. A fantasy. She scoffed at herself. Hadn't she known this was coming? Felt it even as she'd let herself act the fool? What a ninny, primping and pining like a silly little girl. If she insisted on the pathetic course, she couldn't have at least sought a genuine romance? One at least somewhat built on truth?
She saw Avaric lounging against a doorway as he chatted with Lizel, all smiles and substance.
If she didn't try with Avaric, would she regret it when she woke up at Shiz, alone and the social pariah she was? For some Oz-forsaken reason, he genuinely liked her. And despite her frustrations, she couldn't deny she was attracted to him in return. Didn't she owe it to herself to at least try something real?
She didn't dare look back at Fiyero until she was too far to reach. A pang of regret struck her that she'd let herself believe the lie for so long. And damned if part of her still wanted to believe it, screamed at her to walk in the other direction as fast as she could.
No. She wouldn't choose the lie, pretty though it was.
She strode up to Avaric with more certainty than she felt. "Wanna get out of here?"
His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed off the doorframe. "Yeah."
She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his eagerness, and he grinned at her in return. "Do I want to know what changed your mind?"
"Probably not."
"Fair enough." He dropped a kiss to her temple as he led her outside. "I'll certainly not complain."
He led them to a garden, and she fought off the memories of Fiyero's many talks therein before. Lies, she reminded herself. Not worth ruining something real.
"You look beautiful in the moonlight."
"You mean the darkness," she teased back, and he rolled her eyes.
"Are you trying to bait me into further compliments or an argument?"
She grinned at the words, not a sappy line or smooth persuasion. Real.
"Neither." She sat on the large swing, it's sides twined with vines. Twisting, the swing twisted with her, the vines spiraling up with lovely magic in the dark. She laughed, and leaned back, tilting her face toward the stars. "I can't believe I'm one of those silly girls."
"Oh?"
"Running off with you in the moonlight on our last night here."
He frowned, and his arms wrapped around her. "Let's not think about tomorrow. I'm glad enough to have you back tonight."
She pushed off the ground to sway the swing in a gentle pendulum. "Push me?"
He caught the ropes, pulling them to him. "I think not." And he dipped down with a gentle kiss that took her breath away.