Chapter 2
Fiyero watches Elphaba out of the corner of his eye, taking in the tense way she carries herself, the way she is constantly looking over her shoulders, wide-eyed and skittish like a frightened rabbit, then drawing back farther within herself. He can tell she's trying not to show her fear; she's not doing a particularly good job of it. Often she glances back to his face, looking for the slightest clue to tell her whether or not she should trust him; right now, she leans far moretoward wariness than trust. It saddens him; he hates what the Wizard and Madam Morrible have done to her, but he hates ever more fervently the fact that he's made himself one of the people she must fear. She sees the uniform he wears as a glaring badge that hurts her eyes with the way it shows so blatantly how much she's lost, from freedoms to friendship and back again. Funny, he feels the same way.
Gently he nudges her with his elbow and whispers, "You can relax a little. We shouldn't run into any trouble at least until we get closer to the back exits. There's most always someone stationed at the doors leading in and out, but you might get lucky again today, what with the ball going on."
She doesn't answer. She's afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she tries.
"You could acknowledge that I exist, you know." he murmurs. She nods, averting her eyes. On the contrary, she's been all too aware of his existence. Between the events of the past half hour replaying themselves in her head and the fear clouding her mind, about the only thing she can be sure of right now is his hand wrapped tightly around her own, sending a hot-and-cold shiver up her arm. It embarrasses her, and she wants it gone, but can't bring herself to pull away. She feels better when in control of herself; at least then she can feel that the situation is at least somewhat in her favor, but right this second she couldn't be any less in control. She couldn't make herself block that out, even if she'd tried with every ounce of willpower she possessed in thatslender frame of hers.
She won't look at him, no matter how much she wants to. She knows her face has been giving too much away.
Remarkably, they make it to the last corridor before the door without interruption, but just as Fiyero had feared, there was indeed one soldier stationed near it. He manages to adjust his grip on her to seem more convincing to the man on guard; hastily he wrests her arms behind her back and his grip on her wrists becomes tight and uncomfortable. In her ear he whispers an apology; he wouldn't be doing so if he didn't have to. She understands, adjusting her expression to complete the façade, and trying to have faith that his words are true.
After a few terse words with the one guard, who, by the looks of things, appears to have been filching a few too many drinks from the ball, Fiyero and Elphaba become slightly more at ease. Or, at least, Fiyero does. The door closes behind the two of them, and he can finally relinquish his hold on her. She shrinks away from him a little, still refusing to look at him. He sighs, runs his hand nervously through his hair. He doesn't know what to say. They fall into step beside each other, silent. Aside from the occasional nudge in the right direction, he does not move to touch her again.
Things pass by in a blur. Elphaba doesn't really even notice where she's going – her head continues to reel, playing and replaying the scene in the Palace. She's completely and totally disgusted and sick to her stomach with the staggering magnitude of her actions. She can't believe what she's done. She can't believe she's following Fiyero, and even less that she's let herself betray Glinda. That woman had been the first living human to accept her for what she was, and now…she's thrown it all away, like Glinda had never meant anything to her at all. To put the icing on the cake, she just so happens to be traveling with Glinda's fiancé. For all Elphaba knew, he could still very well be leading her into some sort of sick trap. All the assurances he'd made to her mean very little…and yet, at the same time, they mean more than the world. She wants so badly to trust him, but doesn't believe she'll ever be able to trust again. She has no one, and it would help to have someone on her side.
And so they walk, hastily weaving along winding back streets, just to be sure it'll be harder for any pursuers to catch up. Fiyero doesn't really know where to take her; just that it has to be somewhere she can stay long enough to wait out the furious search the Wizard will probably send out after her. He almost regrets making such a scene in the Palace, wondering if she would've been better off if he hadn't drawn so much attention to her, to the two of them. He figures that the safest -and closest- place for her right now is probably the Great Forest in upper Gillikin – it's unpopulated, and that's what she needs, a place with no one in it to jeopardize her already fragile state of existence. Where he'll take her afterwards is another story – hopefully he'll be able to buy them both some time before that needs to be determined. Bringing his elbow into the barest contact with her arm, he gently steers her in the direction he thinks is northward – to the City's one railroad station.
"Brace yourself," he whispers, "We'll be walking for a while." He hopes they'll be able to make it that far. She nods, but doesn't bother to press the subject; he's not sure if she's even heard him.
The pattern of their steps pound into a regular rhythm, lending a much-needed sense of ease to their postures after a while. It's the only thing Elphaba can consciously grasp onto as something real when nothing else seems as such.
:The farther he gets me from the Palace, the better: she thinks, :no matter where I finally end up.: Still she refuses to focus on her surroundings; she feels a headache coming on, and besides, there's too much else weighing on her mind vying for attention.
The sun begins to set all too soon for Fiyero. They've only reached a dingy little sector on the outer edge of the Emerald City; he hadn't realized how long it would take to get even this far, what with all the meandering around they've been doing. And he realizes that he's been leading them in the wrong direction for hours; he'd taken them both eastward instead of up in the direction that would've been on a path to Shiz. The one thing he's got going for them is the fact that there's no one around. So Glinda's ball had done something good for him after all.
"Oh, damn…" he murmurs, tangling his fingers into his hair in frustration. Elphaba looks up finally, a question in her gaze. He doesn't want to tell her about this. She could use all the encouragement she can get, and what he's just managed to get them into couldn't be farther from that. "You might as well sit down for now – I've got to…to think about this for a minute."
'A minute' turns into a half hour. He's worried now. She, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice the passage of time, leaning against a building, her face turned away from him again. He feels for her; he's lost things, too, through this rescue, but he can't even begin to imagine what sort of effect her own losses are having on her. Her entire life has been led in varying degrees of misery – of all people for this to happen to now, did it have to be her? He looks at Elphaba; she slides her back down the wall until she's on the ground, eyes closed, her head leaning back against the brick, still not looking at him.
He paces nervously, his mind running at a furious rate to think of something to get them out of here, but it always takes him back to dwell on his mistakes. Every so often he glances back to her, and every time he does so she looks exactly the same. He gives up on the pacing and lets his back hit the wall, smacking his head against it a few times, thoroughly berating himself. Why did he always have to be so…brainless?
"Stop doing that." he hears Elphaba say, the first time she's spoken in hours, "You'll hurt yourself." But when Fiyero goes to meet her eyes, she's drawn herself back again, away from him. He wishes she would just show herself already; she doesn't have to be afraid of him – but he knows she can't open up to him, not yet. He sighs, and lowers himself to sit beside her; he feels her move away, though not from fear of him. His eyes follow her movements as she pulls herself to the side some toward a smallish tan-and black creature crouching a little ways away. He recognizes the animal as one of the Wizard's winged monkeys. It's lugging something behind itself, and Elphaba is talking softly to it, scratching and stroking its fur.
"Come on, little one," she coaxes, "What is it you've got there…" It steps a bit closer to them, holding out whatever it is it's been carrying. Her eyes light up as she takes the thing from the monkey. "My broom…how in the…? Oh, Chistery, thank you! Thank you, Chis." she murmurs to it, a small smile on her face, and she bends slightly, laying a kiss on the monkey's furry head. The creature puffs it's chest out, pleased with itself that it's been able to somewhat rescue it's own rescuer. Elphaba glances quickly at Fiyero before turning back to the monkey, still petting it with one hand and holding the broom in the other. "Well, my brave little friend, that's quite a feat you did for me. You flew with this thing all the way here?" Her smile widens when the monkey hops into her lap. Continuing to stroke its fur, she holds tight to the broom in her other hand, and she offers Fiyero a small, tentative smile. He thinks he detects an infinitesimal speck of hope in her eyes – it's not much, but it's there just the same in the way her eyes sparkle slightly, the minute smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
It takes him by surprise somewhat, and clumsily he remembers to smile back at her rather than just stare like some stupid boor, but he's too late. The moment's gone. She holds his gaze for an instant longer, but the happiness has left her eyes, and she has to look away, glancing back down at her hand on the broom. He notices that her knuckles are white, she's holding the thing so tightly, and her other hand petting Chistery moves jerkily; it irritates the monkey and he pushes himself off her lap, but stays close next to her. She runs her fingers over the handle of the broom, fits her hand in a slight dip in the wood worn smooth by her grasping it in the same spot for the past three or four years. It's an almost reverent gesture; slowly, without her realizing it, her posture becomes slightly more relaxed, like she's re-grown a lost appendage of hers or something of the like.
Elphaba is almost relieved. Now she has herself a way out should something happen. And she is slightly uplifted for the moment – but brought down again by the nagging phantom in her mind urging her to realize the capacity Fiyero could have to send her life plunging to further ruin. Halfheartedly, she wishes she were alone, but argues with herself that if he had indeed meant to kill her he could have done so already many times over, and with an audience, no less, had he tried a few hours ago. Though every fiber of her being cries out for her to keep him shut out, she can't keep herself from wanting so badly to trust him.
But no, of course not. She won't risk leaving herself open and vulnerable to any more pain. She's had enough pain. And trust is something she can't freely place in anyone anymore. She cinches restraints tighter around her aching heart, doing her best to leave it with no sliver of space to lend to Fiyero.
She has no idea how badly she will lose the battle to keep herself so suppressed.
Fiyero doesn't know what to say. He's afraid he'll seem too forward if he outright asks her to take him with her. If he did it would make her refuse him completely. But if he doesn't do something…he'll lose her all over again.
He swallows hard; he won't impose himself on her anymore when she doesn't want him there.
"You should go, Elphaba. They'll have this city crawling with soldiers in a few more hours. I got you this far. I – I don't think I'll be of much use to you anymore." he says softly, getting to his feet and succumbing to an old nervous habit, running his hand through his hair. He looks out, away from the City, carefully avoiding her eyes. He doesn't expect her to look at him anyway. She stands as well, in silence for long, echoing silent seconds, and speaks up.
"'Go'? Go where? For so long, my life's been here, in this City. I don't know much of anywhere else. And anyway-" She gives a short, self-deprecating laugh. "If no one else gives a damn, why should I? They'll only weed me out eventually. I'm not exactly inconspicuous." Her voice is hollow, her gaze blank as it stares out to the horizon. She hurts, but the cinches on her heart don't do much for that. Of course there's always room for pain.
"Don't say that." he replies. He wonders how she could ever think of herself that way.
"If they catch you, they'll kill you, won't they?" she asks in that same flat tone.
He stares out again for a moment, and answers quietly, "I'll probably be given a trial first, but, eventually…" he sighs, "Yes, most likely they'll have me executed." They are both quiet; it's the first time Fiyero has actually thought about the possible consequences of his flight with Elphaba. He would die alongside her, if they were to be caught. The heavy realization settles like cold stone in the pit of his stomach. Maybe…maybe they'd get lucky, maybe…
She looks at him, her eyes wide open and sad, not realizing what her face is showing him. No one should have to hurt because of her. It makes Fiyero nervous and sad and almost happy at the same time, the look on her face. On impulse, he reaches out to her and gently slides his hand down her arm until his fingers tangle with hers. She tenses, but only for a split second, and then her hand tightens around his. She turns her face away, but lets her arm rest against his side. He smiles at her and disentangles his hand so he can bring his arm to encircle her back. She lets him, but suddenly it makes her uneasy, and after a moment or two, trembling in his embrace, she pulls away.
"Can…can that thing carry two?" he asks haltingly, gesturing at the broom; he puts his faith in her and the expression he'd seen her give him, and hopes with all his heart that she'll say yes.
Slowly, she nods.
A/N: Hello everyone!Yes, I know,this chapter was rawther short. Bear with me. They will get longer. Between losing my patience with my other fic (I wrote and rewrote the damn thing twice and either I'm stupid and don't know how to save things correctly or all my disks are defective, but both times I tried to save it I lost the entire eight or none pages of it and ended up wanting to strangle something) and the ever-so-annoyingpresent-tense grammar in this one, I figured I'd post it and get it overwith before I edited it so much it started to sound nothing like I'd intended it to. But anyway, I get my life -and my computer- back tomorrow, soyou'll be hearing from me abit more often. Thanks again for reading,
Linz