Title: When Your Dreams Come True

Author: Aerohead

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Fiyero/Elphaba, Fiyero/Glinda, Glinda/OC, OC/OC

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: For L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman who own this idea that I'm extending. Thank you for giving me the first part. This is also for everyone in the OibLTibS RPG, so Sheika belongs to F-kun, Destin belongs to Tori, Riley belongs to Nessy, and Kade and Noelani belong to Cree.
Warning: spoiler for the ending of the musical Wicked, but that's pretty much about it.

Genre: Romance, adventure (book/play amalgamation)

Summary: With the government at a stand-still, Shiz is the only safe place to be. But with the arrival of two new freshmen, the old struggle of segregation arises.

Author's Notes: I actually started writing chapter ten, so I could finish this chapter. Some of it may not be age-appropriate, and I'm trying fervently not to push the limits of my PG-13 rating. I think I did a pretty good job of 'leaving it up to the imagination' as it were. At any rate, you've been warned, so don't say I didn't tell you. Meh. As everyone knows, I'm crap at fluff, so I apologize for that. And I swear the actual plot of this story surrounding Dorothy and…other things…will be brought back into play during chapter ten.

Chapter Nine: Sudden Heat

Everyone present to eat sat down at the table. Fabala watched the wine being poured skeptically, before picking it up.
"Try it, it's very good." Urged Shell as he sat down next to Ozma. Fabala turned to comment, but the two schoolmates were already involved in a deep conversation.
"Ignore them; they've been like this for ages" Said Merric cheerfully as he sat down across from Fabala. "So, you're Miss Nissa's sister"
"Oh, yes, she is! Faeba, try it - it's really delicious. We didn't know, of course, until we got to school." Nissa said giddily. Aran and Fabala looked at each other, before she finally took a small sip of the wine.
It was fruity - almost shockingly so - but it tasted good. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that Glinda would have served only the best wine she had in her stores for occasions such as her very own Feast Day.
The Tinman sat down in the last remaining seat, and helped the small Munchkin maid place the trays down. Fabala looked at the spoon selection for a moment, before picking up her soup spoon. She stirred the soup for a moment, before pushing it away.
"Oh, I'm sorry dear." Glinda said apologetically.
"What's wrong with the soup" Asked Shell, looking at his own spoonful with concern.
"N-nothing...it's just..." Fabala said, stuttering and turning pink.
"She's allergic to...to artichokes" Nissa said suddenly.
"Artichokes" Fabala and Aran repeated, stunned.
"Oh, yes...I know you didn't want anyone to know, since it's not usual that they're put into anything, but Mother loves them, and so they were finally diced. But Faeba's not one of the smartest girls in Crage Hall for nothing."
"For anything; you can't have a double negative in a sentence." Fabala corrected. Nissa beamed.
"See" Fabala rubbed her temples.
"Where's Miss Dorothy" asked Merric. Fabala coughed and took another sip of wine.
"Away." said Glinda.
"On business." Said The Tinman, but instantly regretted it when the older Quadling turned to him.
"Where" he asked.
"To her castle in Munchkinland to work on some business." Ozma said.
"I wish someone would work on the business of the Quadling Country; wouldn't you agree there...eh..."
"Aran" He bleated quietly. Merric nodded.
"Right; Aran, wouldn't you agree"
Aran shrugged, going back to his soup. Glinda watched, tense, and Fabala slipped her hand into his under the table. "I...I don't really...remember Quadling Country all that well."
The maid came back in, and with the Tinman's help took the dishes away, coming back with shallow dishes of water for the guests. Fabala stared at it for a moment, before biting the inside of her lip and placing her fingers gently in the dish. She pulled them out quickly and wiped them on the napkin in her lap, hoping her normal allergic reaction wouldn't occur. She stared in dismay at her now reddish fingers. She grumbled to herself, keeping her hands underneath the table resolutely.
"You don't remember Quadling Country? At All" Merric asked, holding up his wine glass to be refilled.
"No, not at all." Aran said, coughing. The salads were brought, and Fabala went to pick up her fork.
"You're hands look terrible." Said Shell, aghast. "Is that from your artichoke allergy, too"
"My…what" Fabala said, blinking. She smiled sheepishly and picked up her fork, stabbing a tomato. "Oh, no…it's just…something." She said.
Shell picked up his own fork. "My sister used to have a minor water allergy; nothing serious." He said, studying Fabala's hands. "Her hands used to turn that color, well, they turned a color similar to that." He blushed and looked away, out a window that could be seen from the dining room in the parlor.

"I…see." Fabala said, looking away. Aran put a hand on Fabala's thigh and squeezed it tightly. She looked up at him, and he sent her a sweet smile.

The rest of dinner was conventional and relatively quiet. They ate the rest of their food, and at the end, Glinda stood.

"Happy Saint Glinda's Day, thank you for celebrating with me." She said with a jovial smile. "It's late; I recommend that you retire to your rooms and get some rest. The traveling tomorrow will be murder."

Shell, pale-faced, stood and stormed out of the room. Ozma and Merric watched him, and Ozma stood. "I'm sorry, Glinda. I'll go and make sure he's okay."

Glinda sighed wearily and nodded. She looked around the rest of the table, before waving her hands in the air. "Please, go. It's very late." She said.

Aran stood and helped Fabala up. "Fabala, may I speak to you?" Fabala turned, and instantly her mood brightened.

"Destin!" She said, hugging him tightly. Aran turned around, his lips pursed.

"Destin." He said coldly.

Destin pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes, before smiling at his friend. "I'm glad you're here." He said, pulling her away. He looked embarrassed. "Here…this is for your mother. Could you give it to her the next time you see her? Or, perhaps, give it to Valen?"

Fabala laughed, shaking her head. "Mother's taken to teaching Valen now." She said, taking the letter. "But I'll give it to Mother the next time I see her. How's life in this beautiful place?" she asked, bemused.

Destin sighed. "Overbearing." He said, staring at the ceiling.

"Fae?" Aran asked quietly, taking her hand. She turned to him and nodded.

"I'll give this to Mother." She said. Her smile softened. "I hope to see you tomorrow, Master Destin." She said formally. He bowed, grinning, before Aran pulled her away.

"You didn't tell him." He whispered as they reached their room.

"Tell him what?" Fabala asked, putting the envelope down.

Aran took her hand and held it up so they could both see the glistening emerald and ruby ring. "You didn't tell him about this." He said quietly. Fabala chuckled, twining her fingers with Aran's.

"Destin is Nissa's step-brother; he's nearly my own brother. Are you jealous?" she asked.

Aran looked away. "Perhaps…just a little." He managed. She looked up at him – when had she gotten shorter than him? – and kissed him softly. He was taken aback, as she had never actually kissed him on the lips before. It was almost surreal, and time suspended itself for them for a moment.

She pulled away suddenly. "I-I…" She started, going over to the bed and sitting down. She was shivering. Aran went over to her, untying her dress, and rubbing her shoulder blades. He traced one blue diamond after another, waiting for her to calm down. She turned to him, eyes defiant. "Kiss me." She said.

"I just did." He said, laughing.

Fabala slumped. "No, actually kiss me; I'm not made of glass and I'm not a child, Aran."

He looked at her, startled. "But…doesn't it hurt?" He asked, trying to edge around his actual question.

Fabala knelt down onto the bed so they were eye to eye. "I'll have to get used to it sometime." She whispered, pulling him closer.