Chapter 5

Elphaba sat with her knees drawn up to her chest tightly, staring into the flames of the small fire before her, if only so she didn't look at Fiyero.

She was always hyper-vigilant to any surrounding sounds these days. The crack of a twig or the rustle of leaves could always be a sign of being discoverated, of being captured and taken away to Southstairs.

But the footsteps were just Fiyero, checking their surroundings. The snapping of twigs was him feeding the fire. The rustle of movement was him slowly, carefully moving forward and sitting beside her. And the heat on the side of her face was just his eyes, boring into her.

At last Elphaba turned her head to meet his gaze, and Fiyero's face flushed as though he hadn't realised he'd been staring.

"Can I- can I see?"

Elphaba's brow furrowed, and Fiyero awkwardly gestured towards her neck.

"The mark," he clarified.

Elphaba's cheeks grew warm, but she nodded hesitantly. She slowly tilted her head to an angle where it would be clearer for him to make out in the firelight, but she wasn't expecting for him to reach out and brush his fingers against it. Elphaba jumped a mile at the touch, and Fiyero startled too, jerking his hand back.

"Sorry," he apologised. "It's just… I've never seen one that isn't mine."

Elphaba's gaze drifted down to where his shirt sleeve was rolled back, leaving the mark on display. Just where Glinda had said it was so long ago, on the inside of his wrist.

"When?" she asked hoarsely.

Fiyero didn't need clarification. "The night of the Lion Cub," he answered. "I- I felt something then. We were by the cage and you touched my face…"

"You were bleeding," Elphaba recalled, thinking back.

She remembered that moment, her hand on Fiyero's cheek and their eyes meeting and being completely unable to look away.

"You left."

Fiyero nodded. "I felt something," he said quietly. "It was like… pins and needles, shooting down my whole arm. I didn't know what it was, I just knew I had to get out of there. And then that night… I saw it."

Elphaba had only ever seen her mark in a broken piece of mirror, given its placement on her body, but as far as she could remember, Fiyero's mark was an exact copy. Hers was just greener, which made it rather fainter than his.

"I freaked out," Fiyero admitted readily. "I didn't know what it was at first, and then I remembered the story that my grandmother used to tell me. But I didn't think it was real."

Elphaba scoffed slightly under her breath. That was an understatement.

"Did you feel it?" Fiyero asked, his question tinged with hope.

Elphaba looked back to the fire. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I don't remember. I didn't even notice it for months."

It had been a kindly Raccoon, who had taken it upon herself to detangle and braid Elphaba's hair during a rest break as Elphaba guided a group of Animals to the border, who had discoverated it.

"Oh, child. You've been blessed," she said.

"Yeah, I feel real blessed," Elphaba muttered, cleaning a cut on her arm as best she could.

The Raccoon chuckled. "No, dear. Blessed by Brunhilla. Look, you bear her mark."

She'd handed Elphaba the dirty mirror fragment and pointed it out, as Elphaba could only gape at it.

"That's not possible," she said, rubbing at it. "Brunhilla's mark isn't real. It's a myth. A fairytale."

The Raccoon laughed. "Oh, it is most decidedly real. My parents also had it."

Elphaba head swam, and she blinked away the black spots that threatened to cloud her vision, looking at the mark again.

"Who is your love?" the Raccoon asked gently.

Elphaba's jaw dropped, and her breath caught. Her mind went straight to Fiyero. But… she didn't love him. She couldn't. Could she?

"It doesn't matter," Elphaba said, swallowing around the lump in her throat and putting aside the mirror fragment. "It can't matter. Especially not now."

Elphaba ran a hand through her hair awkwardly. "Kind of interferes with my whole atheism thing," she said and Fiyero huffed out a laugh.

"I was raised Lurlinist. It doesn't make it any easier, trust me."

Elphaba met his gaze briefly and looked away.

"So, what exactly does this mean?"

"This?" Fiyero repeated.

Elphaba gestured vaguely between their marks. "This."

Fiyero paused. "My grandmother told me that the mark means you'll be blessed with a long, happy life together. My mom said it was a promise that love would prevail. But she also said that stories like this… they can mean whatever we want them to mean."

Elphaba looked back at him. "What do you want this to mean?"

Fiyero hesitated, reaching out to slip his hand into Elphaba's.

"You know the phrase 'the eyes are the window to the soul'?"

"Soul meets soul," Elphaba repeated, the phrase heard long ago sparking in her mind.

"You called me out on everything since we met,"Fiyero reminded her. "You saw right through me."

"Okay?" Elphaba said.

"Soul meets soul."

Elphaba blinked. "You've lost me," she confessed.

Fiyero grinned briefly. "Elphaba, you saw my soul before we locked eyes. Before any mark appeared on my skin or yours."

His face sobered as he held her gaze. "What I feel for you, it has nothing to do with this."

He raised his hand and brushed her mark again. Elphaba didn't jump this time. Goosebumps erupted on her skin at his touch, and she wasn't sure if that was because of the mark or not. Elphaba's eyes lowered again to his wrist and his own mark, cautiously reaching out and brushing her own fingers over his mark.

Fiyero's fingers trembled slightly against her skin and Elphaba felt her cheeks flame.

And then the guilt she'd been swallowing down since fleeing the palace- well, even longer really- came rushing back to the surface and she swallowed, pulling her hand away.

"Glinda..."

Fiyero winced. "Glinda," he agreed, sighing softly.

Elphaba turned back to the fire, closing her eyes. "When did she know? That it was me?"

"Tonight," Fiyero admitted.

It was Elphaba's turn to wince now. No wonder Glinda had been furious.

"Tonight?"

"She already knew the mark wasn't from her," Fiyero pointed out. "There didn't seem much point to telling her the truth. And then all of a sudden, she tells me we're getting married. And I just… I had to tell her."

"That doesn't make it better," Elphaba retorted.

"No," Fiyero agreed quietly. "And I'm sorry that I hurt her. But I'm not sorry for this."

Elphaba was sorry for everything. But that had been her entire life- one giant sorry. Why should this be any different?

"Do you believe it?" she asked him. "What the mark means?"

Fiyero smiled softly, cupping her cheek in his hand so that his fingers were against her mark, and his eyes staring into hers.

"If we can be here together now, I'll believe anything," he said, so sincerely Elphaba was tempted to cry. "But yeah. I think we're going to be together always, Elphaba."

Elphaba had never been one for fairytales.

But she almost believed him. How could she not, looking into his eyes?

The End