Content Advisory: Magical Violence, Blood/Gore Mention (Minor), Description of Mild Panic Attack, Self-deprecating thoughts


Chapter Sixteen: Asked and Antlered

Elphaba's efforts in avoiding Fiyero were proving successful, but there was still the matter of their shared class. Elphaba had never skipped a class, but if it hadn't been for one detail, she may have broken her streak. It was an exam day. Fiyero never came to class on exam days.

Doctor Nikidik, Doctor Dillamond's odious replacement, didn't strike Elphaba as an insecure man, but it did seem like he was trying to put a little extra oomph into his lessons as of late. Elphaba suspected that he was wounded by the student body's lack of interest in his tutelage. While few people cared as much as Elphaba did about Doctor Dillamond's ousting, there was a consensus that the Goat was the more engaging professor. Even if their intentions weren't as noble as hers, it was fun to watch Doctor Nikidik be taken down a few pegs by the student body's refusal to inflate his ego.

Elphaba, in order to manage her resentment towards the professor, focused on her exam preparation notes with a clenched jaw and tense gaze. Occupying her mind to total capacity on learning drowned out the noise and those creeping thoughts that kept tapping at her shoulder. No thoughts of Fiyero, only thoughts of the founding fathers of Ozma Towers.

Paintings of said founding fathers hung upon the walls to illustrate their current unit, right beside a pair of grisly stag horns that Nikidik put up as decoration. Time had not lessened Elphaba's distaste for his choice in wall hanging, for it was impossible to know if the antlers once belonged to a stag or Stag. Knowing the background of their dear professor, she couldn't rule out the latter.

Elphaba felt an uneasy shiver run up her spine as she turned back to her notes. Ozma Towers. Life Force–

"—Extract of Biological Intention," Doctor Nikidik declared to the class.

A few heads perked up at the announcement, including Elphaba's. She recognized the term, not from history, but rather from sorcery seminar.

Nikidik squared his shoulders with a haughty "hmph!", plainly pleased to have gained the attention of his pupils. "Peaked your interests, have I? Well my students, I have a special demonstration before our exam today. We spend an exorbitant amount of time studying the past, speaking of the past–"

"Harping on the past," Elphaba heard Glinda mutter from the table behind her, followed by a shrill giggle from Pfannee.

"But–dear students!" Doctor Nikidik continued. "Wouldn't history be a lot easier if the past could speak for itself? Well…with this uncommon concoction that can become reality."

"Wait! I wouldn't–" Elphaba spoke up at once. However, her thought was thwarted as Nikidik uncorked the bottle with a showy flourish.

"Professor–I've studied this concoction and it is highly inappropriate to have it in a classroom such as this!" Elphaba blurted out, tensely eyeing the puff of smokey matter that wafted from the bottle.

"Hush you!" Nikidik scowled, plainly irked at having been interrupted.

"It is highly volatile!" Elphaba pressed. "The slightest shift in the air and—"

"Down in front!" an impatient pupil called from the back. Elphaba turned and caught Glinda's eye challengingly.

"Well go on," Elphaba prompted her tersely. "You're in sorcery seminar. Tell him!"

Glinda's eyes shifted anxiously between the puff and Elphaba, but she did not speak up.

"Sit down, I say!" Nikidik barked, wafting the puff of vapor back and forth past the wall hangings of the founders with the intention of animating them to speak. "Sit!"

But Elphaba did not sit. She didn't sit because at the very moment the fumes began drifting and curling around the horns of the antlers on route to the paintings, she heard the click of the classroom side door opening. Fiyero Tigelaar, in a move defying all of Elphaba's expectations, had come to class after all.

His eyes locked with Elphaba's but his soft expression soon contorted to one of confusion as he registered the look on her face. It wasn't ambivalence, anger, nor affection Fiyero saw on Elphaba's features…it was panic. Panic, because Elphaba knew what was going to happen right before it did and she was powerlessly condemned to watch it come to pass.

Fiyero's unfortunate entrance, having shifted the delicate balance in the room, altered the course of Nikidik's reckless magic. The antlers that Elphaba so despised began to rattle violently on the wall until they finally broke free with a dreadful cracking sound and landed prongs side down on the floor. They screeched along the baseboards towards Fiyero to create a sound akin to nails on a chalkboard and maniacally skittered up his body before he could react. One rack pinned him to the door by the neck, its pointed prongs flush against his jugular, while the other reared back in preparation to lethally spear the prince in the face.

There must have been chaos at that moment, gasps and screams from the students, pleading towards their professor to save the boy before he was grievously mauled. However, only one sound prevailed above the rest. A feral, anguished cry of grief as Elphaba screamed–

"YERO!"

Dust and vapor settled silently over the class as the students, who had fled to the opposite side of the room, covered their eyes to avoid witnessing the certain mangling of their classmate. However, when a few finally dared to peek, they saw Fiyero with his eyes closed, pinned yet astoundingly unharmed by the now inanimate antlers. Elphaba had climbed on top of her table and kneeled upon it, her eyes wide and wild as her hand extended towards the prince to halt the horns. Then, in a deliberate, swift motion, she slashed said hand through the air like a jungle cat swiping at prey, and onlookers gasped as they watched the antlers disintegrate midair leaving dozens of jagged pieces to clatter to the ground.

As if only realizing at that moment that he was still alive, Fiyero opened his eyes to take in the serrated shards at his feet. He then turned his awestruck gaze upon his hero whose arm reached for him still. The tense silence of an uncomfortably curious class was broken as Glinda rushed out of the back entrance of the classroom and shut the door behind her. The sound broke Elphaba's focus and she put her arm at her side, turning her gaze upon the students.

"Out. Get out! All of you!" she commanded.

For once, they listened. Without hesitation the students scrambled to grab their things and scatter into the hallway out the back door. Elphaba leered at a petrified Nikidik and merely jabbed a finger towards the door.

"C-class dismissed!" he coughed to the last few stragglers before swiftly taking his leave and closing the door behind him.

Now alone, Elphaba's hardened front collapsed and she shakily climbed off the table. She held up her quivering hands in front of her and observed them curiously, briefly distracted by her own display of magic. She then chanced another look towards Fiyero. Beautifully, miraculously unscathed Fiyero.

"Finally…" she managed a rushed whisper. "Finally, from these powers something good."

But while unscathed, Fiyero was plainly shaken. Jittery and pale, he moved a hand to his neck and looked at Elphaba as if she were the only solid thing that could ground him.

"Fae?" he muttered hoarsely before his wobbly knees finally gave way. He wound up sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, but he wasn't alone, because Elphaba had instinctively moved to his side to kneel beside him.

"I think–I think I'm–" Fiyero managed as his breath devolved into short, wheezing gasps.

"I know, I know. I get them too, remember? Okay—uh…um…breathe," Elphaba offered lamely, demonstrating the technique as she wracked her brain for ways to help.

Seeing Fiyero in such distress made her feel useless. She was no stranger to experiencing such an episode, but she had never helped anyone through one. But someone had once helped her

"Okay listen up. Name three things that you can see," Elphaba instructed. "Around the room."

"I see you, I only see you," Fiyero muttered vaguely, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"Okay, well. Um…" Elphaba bit her lip as she backtracked. "Okay then…think of three things you know about me?"

"What?"

"What's—I don't know—what's my sign?" she shrugged desperately. "Do you remember?"

"Sagittarius…but you don't believe in astrology," he answered faintly.

"Good, what else?"

"You love picking blackberries," he recalled, his brow furrowing in effort. "You want to learn another language."

"What color are my eyes?" Elphaba challenged lightheartedly, quickly placing her hands over her eyes. "I never wrote you that."

"Brown."

Elphaba slowly uncovered her face and met his eyes with a meaningful expression before making a sudden movement to place her hand on his chest. She stopped short, momentarily surprised at her own boldness, before silently requesting permission with her eyes. Fiyero nodded feebly and she delicately placed her palm over his heart which was still beating madly, surely from the shock.

"Breathe with me, Fiyero," Elphaba whispered, demonstrating a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. She wasn't sure if she was doing it more for him than herself. Impressively soon, Fiyero's breathing steadied and his heart rate slowed to a manageable rate.

"Well now I know of something that rattles me more than exams," Fiyero cleared his throat.

"I think getting disfigured by enchanted antlers is something that rattles all of us now," Elphaba responded dryly.

"Right…the antlers."

Elphaba studied him for a moment, attentively examining his face. Not a scratch on it. What could have happened to him had she not acted quick enough? Gruesome, intrusive images flooded her mind then as she imagined the worst in vivid detail. She could so clearly see the blood, the punctures. The horrors. Elphaba's breath caught and her hands impulsively reached forward to grab the sides of his face, as if needing to feel the physical proof of his safety.

"Fiyero, you frightened me."

Elphaba realized a moment later what she'd done and she flinched to pull her hands away. Fiyero swiftly took one of her hands and she gasped lightly as he returned it to his chest. Their eyes met Fiyero gently placed his own palm warmly over Elphaba's heart. They sat together, breathless and scared, as their racing hearts exposed them both.

Elphaba told herself that she didn't see it happening, but she did. Fiyero was leaning towards her. She wasn't positive but she suspected that she was leaning as well, because they were soon close enough for Fiyero to gently tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. Their eyes closed, their breathing grew labored, and Elphaba flushed as their noses brushed in featherlight contact.

It was at that moment that Elphaba, who privately wanted nothing more than to succumb, did what Elphaba did best.

"You're feeling better…so…" Elphaba scurried to her feet to put distance between herself and Fiyero.

Fiyero let out a shocked, bitter laugh and rose to his feet as well.

"Not anymore!" he griped. "What was that?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You do. Elphaba, we were going to kiss!"

"Well maybe you were going to kiss me but—"

"Stop that," Fiyero urged, stepping forward to close the distance she'd put between them. "I'm not falling for your bickering this time, we need to actually talk. Stop pretending that there is nothing going on here!"

"Nothing is going on–"

"You saved me today, everybody saw it. There were witnesses!"

"Just because I didn't want you to be gored by antlers does not mean that I–"

"Sure it doesn't. But this?" Fiyero gestured wildly between the two of them. "That?!" He gestured towards where they'd been sitting. He placed his own hand over his heart to simulate what had taken place between them. "I mean…what was that?!"

"You were worried and I was trying to–"

"You called me Yero, Elphaba!" Fiyero yelled. His shoulders slackened and he gave her a tired look. "You called me Yero," he repeated, softer this time.

Elphaba went quiet. He was right, of course. Fiyero had seen through her games, no amount of running could change that.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Elphaba finally said. "All of this, today…it doesn't change anything. Whatever I feel for you…it doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything."

"No, it doesn't," Elphaba stated firmly. "You're still you and I'm still me."

Fiyero stared at her blankly for a moment, shaking his head over her blunt reasoning. He considered formulating a calm, eloquent response of his own, but it wouldn't have been honest. Instead he blurted exactly what was on his mind.

"Oz, Elphaba. You are so annoying!"

Elphaba, who didn't know what she was expecting, wasn't expecting that. "Excuse me?"

"And pretentious. Annoying and pretentious!"

"Go on?!" Elphaba urged.

"I will! You're loud, you're a know-it-all, you overthink everything, your temper is off the charts, you never—"

"Are you done!?"

"—let anyone else talk!" Fiyero finished over her. "Oz, Elphaba. You drive me mad! You think that you're so smart and that I'm such an idiot but you're the one standing there unable to see that I'm in love with you—that I am so, stupidly in love with you!"

Elphaba's body and mind froze as Fiyero danced around the subject no longer. She tried to speak, but found that her voice was frozen too. Then, after that, after all of that…she only managed to say: "I don't think you're an idiot."

Fiyero gestured for her to continue her train of thought. "Anything else?"

"You–you–" Elphaba sighed sharply at her own stuttering. "You–"

"So, now you have nothing to say?"

"Shut up," Elphaba growled. "I'm processing."

"Processing that I love you? You don't process love, Elphaba!"

"Well I'm processing it!" Elphaba snapped. She began to pace and think aloud, trying to squeeze a logical conclusion out of this information. "I mean–it's our letters, of course. You've fallen for the person you imagined when reading those letters and are now equating them to me. Then there is the matter of the adrenaline from a near death experience, and the fact that I was the one to rescue you doesn't help. A simple matter of transference syndrome, it's really no question at all that you think you love me."

"Think I love you?" Fiyero challenged. "You're rationalizing the fact that I love you?!"

"You don't love me!" Elphaba corrected harshly, dropping her academic guise. "You love Fae, that's the only thing that makes sense. You love Fae."

"You're Fae!" Fiyero shouted, gesturing to her desperately.

"No I'm not," Elphaba maintained. "That's not really me, I'm not really her. Writing is easy, Fiyero. When I wrote as Fae it was easy to be witty and kind and bold. But when you strip all of those things away, all that's left of Fae…is me."

Elphaba couldn't disguise the disgust in her voice, the shame, her regret over the truth. The regret over who she really was.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you, Fiyero," Elphaba said after a long moment. "Truly, I am."

"But did you ever lie?" Fiyero asked. "In your letters…did you ever lie?"

"What?"

"Did you ever make things up about yourself or share things with me that weren't true?" Fiyero pressed, taking a purposeful step towards her. "Did you lie?"

"No, Fiyero. I didn't lie."

"And everything you wrote to me, did you mean it all? Tell me."

"Yes," she whispered. "Every word."

"Then what was the deception?"

"Fiyero—"

"You're right about one thing, though. I do love Fae," Fiyero continued. "I love the girl that I was writing to every day. The girl with freakishly neat handwriting and the most unbelievable mind. The girl who encouraged me to want more for myself, who made me actually want to want something. The lonely girl who was the first one to notice or care that I was lonely too. I love that girl, Elphaba. You are that girl."

Elphaba's carefully upheld exterior began to splinter.

"I never meant for things to go this far," Elphaba said weakly. "I never intended for us to meet."

"Why?"

Elphaba made an audible sound of discomfort and turned her back to him. She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself in efforts to keep a repressed deluge of emotion at bay.

"Look at me."

She shook her head.

"Elphaba, look at me."

She shook her head harder.

"Sweet Oz, Elphaba. Look at me!"

"You know why!" she yelled, whipping around to face him. "You know why I could never tell you who I was—why I could never tell Yero. Look at me!"

"I'm looking."

"You've read my letters, Fiyero, now read between the lines! People scream when they see me, or laugh, or worse. Nobody wanted to sell produce to me, much less be my friend. Tell me why, then, I should have expected Yero to react any differently when he saw me?" Elphaba unloaded harshly.

Fiyero was quiet for a long time before endeavoring to take a few careful steps towards her. Her arms were crossed and he moved to place his hands on her elbows. She flinched unconsciously at his touch but did not pull away.

"I don't know," Fiyero confessed honestly. "I don't know how I'm going to convince you…but I know that I want to try. Please, Elphaba. Let me try."

Elphaba said nothing but looked up to meet Fiyero's gaze directly. Her eyes explored his suspiciously, searching for any trace of dishonesty. She examined his features for any tics or fidgets that could give him away. Tension mounted and Fiyero hesitantly slid his hands from Elphaba's elbows to her waist. As Elphaba's investigation came up empty, her eyes flicked down to curiously fixate on Fiyero's lips.

"Students! Oh, students I've just heard of the disturberance!" Madame Morrible's voice cut through the moment.

Elphaba and Fiyero jumped and scrambled apart so quickly Elphaba nearly tripped backwards over a chair. Fiyero hastily side stepped behind a table and self-consciously straightened his clothes.

"Madame Morrible," Elphaba breathed heavily.

"No exam today, I see," Madame Morrible said easily, plainly ignoring the amorous scene she'd thwarted. "I take it that things got disrupted."

"You could say that," Fiyero grumbled with poorly concealed frustration.

"It seems Doctor Nikidik got his hands on some Extract of Biological Intention. I'm surprised at you, Elphaba! I would have expected you to dissuade the professor from using such a hazardous charm. We did just cover it in seminar."

"Imagine that," Elphaba responded flatly.

"Now come along, dearie! I'm sure you're positively shaken by today's events. I shall escort you to your next class," Madame Morrible extended a bony hand towards her apprentice.

"Truthfully Madame, I'm not the one who was nearly maimed today."

"Oh, Master Tigelaar will be fine on his own. Don't you worry about him. Now I said come along. We're expecting a change in the weather," Madame Morrible insisted, wrapping her arm around Elphaba to usher her out the door.

Elphaba shrugged out of Morrible's grip and turned around. "Fiyero?"

"Elphaba," he responded softly.

She regarded him earnestly for a long moment before offering him a single nod in assent.

"Fine then. You may try."


A/N: I wrote the first chapter to Love, Fae and Yero a long time ago and then promptly abandoned it for months. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to pick it back up. Then this scene popped into my head and I had to sit down to write it. That's what spurred me to go back to the beginning and finish the rest. Many thanks to those following along, particularly those who have left reviews, your engagement means more than you know!