Fiyero stood gaping when he finally saw Elphaba dressed in all her finery. Elphaba, though, was hardly the picture of calm. She rushed down the grand staircase of Glinda's home with a flurry of curses as she searched for the black Gillikin Lace fan she was supposed to carry. She wore a simple off shoulder gown made of dark, wine-red silk. The upper part of the skirt was cut at an angle revealing another layer of silk, in a slightly lighter shade, which made up the rest of the skirt. To allow herself more freedom of movement she gathered a large part of the dress in her hand, so one couldn't see that it trailed behind her.

"I know I laid it right here," murmured Elphaba, drawing her hands across small table by the stairs. Noticing Fiyero's unwavering gaze, she turned to face him, hands on her hips, and a scowl on her face. "Will you stop gawking and do something useful?"

"You're beautiful," was all he could muster.

"Yes, that's very nice. Now go see if the coach is ready," replied Elphaba sharply, not paying any heed to the compliment. She headed towards the parlor and quickly resumed her search. She quickly finished her search there; being unsuccessful, she moved to the drawing room. She continued shifting from room to room, until finally she headed back up the stairs. Fiyero could hear her shuffling things and opening and shutting drawers. At last Fiyero collected his wits, and managed to ask, "What are you looking for, Fae?"

"That damned fan of Glinda's great grandmother or some distant, long dead, female relative!" she shouted back. "When she started caring about family heirlooms, I don't know, but she told me she'd have my head if I lost it! She probably said that because accessories like that are no longer easy to find!" Fiyero looked down guiltily at the object he'd been fiddling with while waiting for Elphaba; it was the fan. To amuse himself, he'd taken the fan first to study the intricate pattern that Gillikin Lace makers were famous for creating. Then he opened and closed it a few times before absentmindedly swinging it back and forth like a pendulum from the cord that allowed it to be worn on the wrist. He had forgotten he held it when Elphaba came into the room. Gingerly, Fiyero set the fan back on the table where he picked it up.

Elphaba once again flew down the stairs. "I'll have to go without it," she announced. "I'll find it later or suffer the consequences of Glinda's wrath, whatever they may be."

She turned her attention back to the stand where she had laid not only the fan, but her gloves as well. She stared at the table for a moment in shock and confusion. She moved to face her escort. "Yero, my love," she said in a dangerously soft voice, "Would you care to explain how the fan suddenly reappeared here?"

Fiyero knew his expression gave everything away, and thought it best to maintain his silence. He sucked in his breath hoping she wouldn't explode with rage.

"You had it all along didn't you?" Fiyero simply nodded.

"Why didn't you give it to me or say you had it instead of standing there like a dolt!" she demanded angrily.

"I forgot I had it!" said Fiyero, defending himself. Elphaba raised her eyebrow and gave him a look that read, "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you forgot you had it when it was right in your hands?"

"When you entered the room how could I not focus solely on you? It didn't matter that you were cursing, scowling, and running around; you were still the most beautiful creation on Earth. The day with the Lion cub you captured my heart; tonight you captured my soul." he said sincerely. "Besides, he added, "you told me to watch for the coach not search for your fan."

"Which, I noticed, you failed to do," she said, softening. She took his face into her hands. "I love you, but tonight I'm extremely irritable at having to attend a major social function which I'd rather not take part in. I'm actually having to concern myself, ridiculously so, about my appearance and behavior, therefore try not to do anything to further aggravate me." She then gently kissed his lips. Following that, the doorbell rang, signifying the arrival of the coach.

Fiyero broke away to answer the door. "We'll be out in just a moment," he said. The coachman responded with a nod and returned to his position. Fiyero then donned his cape and removed Elphaba's cloak from the coat holder, bringing it to her. As she drew the black gloves over her arms, Elphaba allowed Fiyero to fasten her cloak around her. He picked up the fan to hand it to her. "Can't forget this," he teased.

Elphaba sniffed, snatching the fan from him. Picking up the train of her dress once more, she stalked out the door. Fiyero followed behind. "Off to meet our doom," he said cheerily, shutting the door. Elphaba paused a moment, before entering the carriage, to take one last look at the security of Glinda's home. With a resigned sigh, she moved forward into the carriage. Fiyero slid in next to her.

"Were Glinda's threats all that intimidating?" he asked curiously.

"Not where the fan was concerned; she promised dire consequences if I ruined my hair style though," replied Elphaba.

"Such as?"

"Dragging me to a spa and keeping me there for a fortnight, where I would be made over from head to toe."

"You'd rebel though, wouldn't you?"

"I'd find some means of escape, if that's what you mean. Then, these roses might actually prove to be of some use." Fiyero laughed at the last comment. The roses

Elphaba's wore in her hair were called "Black Magic Roses," due to their being a shade of red so dark that they looked almost black.

---

The coronation lasted only a short duration of time, a little over an hour to be exact. Elphaba was a little sorry it ended so soon; she was interested in studying the formal customs of the Ozmas', and also the end of the ceremony meant the affair she'd been dreading would not be long in starting.

---

The Ozdust Ballroom was as dazzling as when she first saw it all those years ago. This time though, she wasn't alone and was clothed far more elegantly. Elphaba tightly gripped Fiyero's right arm as they descended down the staircase. She braced herself for the stares, awkward looks, and whisperings that had greeted her the night of her first party. Surprisingly, Elphaba merited only a few curious glances that quickly passed. The aura of scandal had faded from her.

Elphaba's eyes scanned the room for Glinda's bouncing, blonde curls. "Where is she?" wondered Elphaba. "She should be here already. She is after all, the hostess and travels by bubble no less." As a sort of response to Elphaba's thoughts, Glinda's animated laughter rang through the air. The glittering, pink figure that was Glinda waved at Elphaba and made its way towards her. Unfortunately, someone else had also spotted Elphaba and caught up with her before Glinda.

"Hmm...Black Magic Roses for a witch, how cliché," said Pfannee in an airy tone. She was dressed in a fashionable, lavender silk gown with short, puffed sleeves, and a bustle at the back of the skirt. She also wore a pair of white elbow-length gloves, a diamond necklace and earrings, and white, gray, and lavender feathers in her hair which was swept up in a rather poofy bun. The overall effect was gaudy. Elphaba was pleased to note that Pfannee wasn't wearing pink.

"You look lovely, yet again, in another unflattering color," Elphaba countered, her tone equally lofty. The statement wasn't entirely true; certainly the color wasn't the most stunning on Pfannee, yet it wasn't hideous either. However, Elphaba's comment did serve to make Pfannee self-conscious enough to flush. Fiyero, attempted to hide his snickering.

"Is that the sort of outfit you wear to rescue Animals in?"

"Yes, it makes quite the disguise." It was clear who the victor of the conversation was going to be.

"Why Master Fiyero," said Pfannee, turning her attention away from the losing battle. "I have not seen you since your and Glinda's engagement ball, which oddly enough resulted in your 'un-engagement' to one another. How exactly did that come about by the way?"

"We parted on mutual terms," he responded coldly. He would've liked to say more, due to his disgust at her shameless ploy for gossip, but Glinda was fast approaching.

"Oh, how very sad," said Pfannee.

"This is a marvelous party; I planned it myself! How could anyone or anything be sad?" interjected Glinda.

"No doubt it is. I was merely commenting about the situation between you and Fiyero."

"Oh?" said Glinda, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it was terribly wicked of your 'friend,' Miss Elfba here, to steal him away from you. You and he made such a lovely couple." Pfannee had struck a chord. Elphaba looked away. Even though, Glinda had forgiven her, she still refrained from mentioning the event. Elphaba and Fiyero were also careful never to flaunt their affection for one another in Glinda's presence.

"Frankly, I could never forgive a person for being such a witch," continued Pfannee, gleefully taking pleasure in Elphaba's shame. "I mean first she abandons you, her so-called 'friend,' for several years without word, then shows up out of nowhere only to steal your fiancé."

Elphaba maintained her silence, while Fiyero internally fumed.

"Pfannee," started Glinda, after a moment. "You really must find a better way to obtain gossip than eavesdropping or repeating third-hand information. Elphaba did not steal Fiyero away from me; Fiyero and I simply..." here she paused to consider her words. "Parted on mutual terms." Elphaba looked back, and Fiyero smiled.

"While she technically is a witch, as she's able to perform magic, Elphaba is not and never was 'wicked.' And, wouldn't you find it difficult to keep in touch with friends while in hiding from unenlightened individuals, everywhere, calling you 'wicked?' "Pfannee looked ready to flee, as Glinda didn't provide the response she'd expected.

"May I remind you," added Glinda, "That I, being the Social Activities Coordinator of Oz, Grand Vizier to the Ozma, and hostess of this party, can easily dismiss you from this ball, so I advise you to contain your unsupported and ill comments within yourself. Also, you really must invest in some different designer gowns; 'Fatimas' are so ill-suited to your figure."

Pfannee, thoroughly reprimanded, held her head high and tilted her nose in the air as she left. She hadn't gone far, when she whirled around to say cattily, "It's such a shame we live in a world so unjust that 'wickedness' is no longer punished." Directly following her words, Pfannee turned back around only to run into a guest carrying punch. The result was of course, Pfannee having punch spilled over the front of her dress.

Fiyero couldn't resist making a parting shot. "The world's not so unjust now is it?"

"Well, that was eventful wasn't it?" said Glinda. Elphaba stood for a moment, amazed at the wit Glinda had displayed in the previous conversation.

"Glinda, you were brilliant!" she finally exclaimed. "Especially since your comments were all impromptu."

"Really? I made all that up on the spot, myself," Glinda beamed.

"I know," Elphaba replied.

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I am getting rather tired of this endless chattering. As this is a ball, and since I spent endless hours giving dance lessons, I would very much enjoy the company of this woman, whom I am quite attached to literally, on the dance floor," said Fiyero.

"That's an exaggeration," Elphaba retorted.

"What my attachment to you or the time I spent providing dancing lessons?"

"Both."

"Go and have fun Elphie," pushed Glinda.

"The concept is foreign to me," responded Elphaba with her usual sarcasm. Nonetheless, she permitted Fiyero to lead her out to the dance floor. Meanwhile, Glinda had caught sight of certain, young, and handsome opera singer.

---

Why had he come? Seeing her only heightened his longing to be able to feel once more. He was an empty tin can though. Besides, he had decided he would put her further from his mind. His purpose was not to admire her from afar; what was it again? There it was, entering the room! Thoughts of rage filled Boq's mind when he caught sight of Elphaba. Who was that with her?

Boq moved to where he could closer examine the witch and her escort. He kept to the side and out of her line of vision though. The man's face was familiar...it was the same as the one of the Scarecrow! The Scarecrow and the man were the same being. Boq recognized the man now; he was Fiyero. The Tinman began to seethe further as envy took hold. He never quite got along with the straw man; now he knew why. The arrogance that was Fiyero's trademark was about him when he was a scarecrow as well, even though he was the lowest of Dorothy's three traveling companions. Fiyero had swept Glinda off her feet in a matter of seconds, allowing no time for him (Boq) to speak his part. That was to be expected though, as Fiyero was better looking. Boq decided not to hold that against him.

It was the witch that mattered. Misunderstood, peh! He had to get to her. He wanted answers, but more than that, he wanted no craved retribution. Spotting a timid looking girl, he set the first of his plans in motion, meeting with the witch. "Would you care to dance?" he asked politely, extending his hand.

---

"What an excellent student you've turned out to be," commented Fiyero. He and Elphaba spun gracefully amidst the other couples on the dance floor.

"I give all the credit to my tutor," Elphaba replied smiling. Though she was dressed much simpler than the other women, she outshone them all-- at least in Fiyero's opinion, then again he was biased.

Her dress wasn't embroidered nor did it contain any fancy additions. She had opted to wear a simple necklace made up of three loops (two on the same level and one below) of black and red crystal beads instead of one made of precious stones. She'd refused to wear any cosmetics either. So what made Elphaba stand out, wondered Glinda. Obviously her complexion, but on this occasion it was something other than that. Was it her hair, maybe? After all, Glinda had spent nearly two hours curling and pinning it into a stylish pile, and the roses did add a nice touch. No that was too simple. Simplicity! That was it! Elphaba had chosen to wear the least elaborate items, yet they highly accentuated her beauty. For once, Glinda felt shabby in her lovely and extravagant gown of pink silk and tulle, covered with silver glitter and ornaments.

Elphaba was experiencing something along the lines of fun. She felt a slight rush when Fiyero spun her around, and the color rose in her cheeks. She would never admit it, but she enjoyed seeing the jealous glances of the other women. This was one of the rare occasions when she actually felt beautiful, although Fiyero told her she was every minute of the day.

Fiyero felt a slight tap on his shoulder. He obligingly switched partners, not noticing to whom he was surrendering Elphaba to.

Elphaba was prepared for the change, and executed it perfectly, even though she hadn't been expecting it. She then looked into the face of her new partner, only to be transfixed on it with shock. It was Boq, or rather, Boq the Tinman.

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AN: Ok, there is definitely no hope of me finishing this before I leave for college, but I'm going to work on this every free moment I have, which, hopefully, will prevent sporadic updating. Anyways, I know this chapter seems and probably is semi-pointless. Let me explain: first part sets the mood, second part summarizes the coronation ceremony (which I feel would've been a boring scene), third part reflects on the past, fourth and fifth parts have a little more plot progression along with thoughts. Also, I know Pfannee didn't mention Elphaba's railing against authority, and that's because I hardly think she'd be interested in the matter, let alone able to comprehend it, and to anyone who thinks red and green don't go together, I beg to differ. I apologize for the chapter being so long and consisting of mainly dialogue, description, and thoughts. I hope it won't deter you from reading further. Thanks again to all those who've read and reviewed. Lady Bianca, I'm proud to say I finally used your previous suggestion. Emails containing suggestions or comments are welcome. --Lan

Disclaimer: Wicked, The Wizard of Oz, and their characters belong to their respectful owners Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and L.F. Baum.