Chapter 19
Fiyero slept in my arms for about two hours; I didn't want to move him for fear of waking him up or hurting him, so I waited as he lay in my embrace, singing to him softly a lullaby type of song I made up as I went along. When at a loss for words to add I would hum or just let my voice lilt over the flowing notes. I tried to remember the words as I added them, hoping to commit the song to memory; I didn't sing anymore, and to tell the truth I never realized how much I missed it until then.
After a while he opened his eyes, staring drowsily into my face, and I, being so absorbed in the song, didn't even notice until he spoke.
"That's beautiful."
I abruptly cut off the song and my face colored a particularly nasty shade of pink-tinged emerald, slightly embarrassed at having been heard. I hadn't realized he'd awakened or that he had heard any of what I'd been singing.
"Please, Fabala, your voice is lovely. Why'd you stop?"
"Because you're awake."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I didn't mean for anyone to hear me."
"What's the point of singing if you don't mean for your song to be heard?"
"I sang to put you to sleep. People who are asleep can't hear me. That was my aim."
"Are you embarrassed by my hearing you or something?"
"To be honest, yes."
"Why?"
"I haven't sung in years. For all I know I could sound like some cawing raven."
"More like a nightingale."
"Stop. I don't even know what I sound like, and frankly I don't want to know."
"Then maybe you should sing more often and get used to the sound of your own voice."
"Oh, no. This has been mortifying enough."
"How has this been mortifying, I ask you?"
"I don't like showcasing myself. For anyone."
"But your voice is something that rightfully should be showcased and acknowledged as beautiful, especially by me."
"But it's not."
"Yes it is, and don't argue with me. Yesterday you agreed not to degrade yourself, remember?"
I sighed. "Alright, I'll stop, but only if you let this go."
"But why should I? I think you're so unused to hearing someone give you compliments that I need to teach you how to accept them again."
"I don't want to be taught to accept something I'll never get. Besides, who in their right mind would look to find anything about me that's worth complimenting?"
"I would."
"Besides you."
He changed tracks on me to avoid answering the question. "You sang for me and Glinda and a whole lot of other people in that bar years back. You weren't afraid then."
"I was still at school! I had been drinking wine with all of you for the better part of the evening! And my singing then hadn't been by choice. If I remember correctly, it was you, Glinda, and the rest of them that made me sing before we left the place for the night. Actually, it was Nessarose's doing, since she was the one who brought it up in the first place." I tried to ignore the pangs that came from remembering Nessa and Glinda, especially Glinda.
"But everyone in the entire bar went quiet. They all wanted to hear you. They liked the sound of your voice."
"That was then and this is now."
"I don't care when it was. Do you remember the words to the song?"
"I doubt it."
"Try to remember, please, for me." He gave me big, pleading eyes in a desperate appeal to my heart and I laughed at his ridiculous expression.
"Even if I do manage to remember the words, you can't make me sing it."
"Please, Fabala?" he pleaded, pushing himself up out of my lap with his good arm.
"I'll think about it."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"Will you drop it already?" I asked, throwing my hands up in mock exasperation.
"No." He smiled smugly at me. "It'll help my arm if you'd sing for me."
"Now it's my turn to refuse."
"You promised to help me heal, Elphie. You can't go back on your word, not when I need you so badly."
"My voice will do nothing for you, so stop trying to guilt me into singing."
"I'll stop badgering you if you sing a little of it for me."
"How much, exactly, constitutes 'a little'?"
"Oh, I don't know, until I ask you to stop?"
"Definitely not."
"Okay, then, half of it."
"Maybe, if I can remember that much." I said, trying to make him leave it at that.
"Thank you."
"You owe me for this, Fiyero." I replied. He kissed my cheek.
"My debt to you shall be paid in full when this damned arm of mine decides to mend."
"I'll take you up on that, mark my words." I finished, trying to concentrate on the old song and silently growling at my stupidity.
After a while I gave up on it without really trying that hard. "I can't remember this, who am I kidding? Tell you what, I'll make you up a new one sometime and I'll sing it for you once I've worked out a tune."
:And once I've worked up the courage to.: I added to myself.
"Oh, alright, but still try to remember the old one. It was such a pretty thing. You have a way with words and how to make them really touch people. We all had tears in our eyes when you sang for us so long ago."
I smiled a little. "I'll try. But again, no promises." The words had actually been coming back to me as I spoke, but I wanted to avoid singing it as long as possible. I needed to forestall the inevitable influx of memory.
"I guess I'll take what little I can get, then." he said, reaching over and scratching Chistery's golden fur. The monkey lifted his head and sat up, then padded over to sit in Fiyero's lap. Chistery gave a purr-like sound as Fiyero scratched his back, stretching out and flexing his wings.
"I can't get over how much my Chistery's taken to you."
"I was always playing with him while you worked yourself crazy over the Grimmerie. I guess it's because he knew he couldn't get any attention out of you while you were working so he took what he could get."
"He hasn't spoken in a while. Normally he babbles strings of words together just for the sake of making noise."
"I've noticed. I wonder why he's been so quiet."
"The last intelligible thing he said to me was chiding me to stop fighting with you before Glinda came here looking for help, and the last sounds I remember him making were from the day before she – she turned herself in."
"He told you to stop yelling at me?"
"Yes, and that's beside the point. I don't know why he's been so silent lately." I said, wrenching my mind away from Glinda.
"Maybe he just doesn't have much to say." Fiyero replied lightly.
"No, it's not like him."
Chistery looked at me, yawned, and blinked twice. "You sing for us. Yero likes." The monkey urged. All I could do was stare. That was the closest thing to an actual sentence I'd ever heard him utter. Maybe this was the link I'd been searching for between the Animals and animals...no, one almost- sentence wasn't enough proof. I'd need Chistery to begin continually talking like that before I'd be able to go anywhere with the theories I'd created a few years back based on my work with Dr. Dillamond at Shiz.
Fiyero laughed. "The monkey has spoken! That's two of us who want you to sing." I rolled my eyes at him.
"Not now! I don't even know what I'd –"
"Then can you make something up?"
"I already told you, I don't like showcasing myself for one thing and for another I told you I'd sing once you've given me time to create something to sing."
"You've got time now."
"Just drop it!" I cried.
When the scarf fell away I made myself examine the gash to calculate the extent of the damage; it wasn't as deep as I'd thought, thank goodness, though still a mess of congealed blood and twisted, torn flesh.
"Well, there is one piece of good news. The wound itself isn't as deep as I'd guessed by the amount of blood you lost; it should heal well, but it'll leave you a nasty souvenir. You've got to have that washed. It'll get worse if you don't. Since I'm incapable of getting my hands wet I'll try my oil on it and see how that goes."
"Do what you must. The faster this monstrosity heals the better, scar or no scar." Fiyero replied, bracing himself for the sting.
"I didn't think you'd be happy with another one." I answered, swiping the bottle of oil from Fiyero's bedside table and opening it. "I've got so many of them one more will hardly matter to me at all."
I paused before pouring the liquid into my hands. "Yes, but how many of those scars were ultimately my doing, like this one is or will be?"
"One: they were not your fault and two: you agreed not to bring it up, no matter how much you may believe it. You never meant any of it, so let the matter rest. The faster you forgive yourself and forget about it the better." He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I have no need to forgive you, since you've done nothing wrong. The only thing left for you to do is to forgive yourself and help your own wounds to heal. Consider the subject closed."
I didn't pursue the matter nor did I speak. :My wounds are deeper than you know, love.:
I poured the oil onto his upper arm and rubbed it over the wound, my strokes brisk and businesslike yet gentle enough not to hurt him. It succeeded in removing whatever blood had dried on his skin as well as cleaning it so I could re-administer the balm. Once that was done I tried retying the scarf around his arm.
"Tell me if I'm hurting you."
"You're careful enough not to hurt me."
"Just bear with me, alright? I worry about you. I'd be worried if I were you, having to live with me."
"Why should I be?"
"You told me to drop the matter before and now I'm dropping it. I don't have the strength to avoid another fight."
"Neither do I, which is probably obvious, but I can't afford to fight with you anyway. I can't do much for myself at the moment without you."
"Your patience must be infinite to be able to deal with this so well."
"I had to wait for a lot of things over the years; if I'm not patient by now I'll never be."
He flinched as I knotted the scarf for the last time; I must've pulled it a little too tight. The makeshift bandage tied once more, I settled myself next to him, just thinking and enjoying his company. After a little while he spoke.
"Fabala, would you hate me terribly if I asked you to massage my shoulders like you did last night?"
"No, I wouldn't hate you terribly. Maybe a little, but not that much." I answered, a smile twitching at the corners of my mouth as I came to rest behind him once more. He leaned back, his head resting just below my shoulder; I kneaded my fingers into his flesh and felt his muscles relax under my touch. He closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh before he spoke again.
"Would you hate me terribly, Fabala-Fae, if I asked you to sing for me?"
"You're pushing your luck just a little, my dear."
"Please, Elphie? I really do love the sound of your voice." he pleaded.
I pressed my eyes shut, swallowed what little dignity I still had and tried not to let my face flush. :The things I do for him...I'm surprised I have any dignity left to swallow.: My face burned, but still the words came in a rush and it took a minute for me to sort them out into some semblance of a song. I never realized just how easily the music came to me, lyrics and notes alike. Trying to forget the fact that Fiyero was there listening to me, I let the notes flow off my tongue like water in a stream; hurried at first, but once I got used to the sound of my voice the flow of the music itself it slowed as if the rivulet had leveled off, streaming lazily onward toward its mouth and end.
"Things once bright have faded /The moon once full has waned/A dream once strong had weakened/Things found have been lost once more
"But everything feels differently now/My memories no longer seem like my own/Unspoken feelings surface yet again/Your kindness has made such a difference.
"There's a tune I can't begin to sing/This unexpected song/So brand new and strange/It's a sensationI can't yet understand/This unexpected love/But it's tracing its path on my heart
"I've asked you time and time again/Whatever made you choose me?/I'm so quiet and yet so noticeable/But I can fade before your eyes
"You sweetly laugh and take my hands/Then look into my eyes/You say I see you differently/And I accept you as you are
"I've started to learn how to sing/Our unexpected song/So beautiful and frightening/I've started to let myself feel/Your unexpected love/All at once I know my heart is yours
"I don't understand why you let me in/Being as different as I am/I don't now why you see me as such/But I need you like no one else has
"I've never known anything like it/You see me as though I'm an exquisite rose/You know me like no one else ever has,/You're the only one who let his heart see
"I'll forever be able to sing/Our unexpected song/So only we can hear it/I may never understand/Our unexpected love/But only we can feel it."
My song ended and I finally dared to open my eyes, my face aflame as I glanced nervously down at Fiyero. There were tears in his eyes.
"Are you alright?" I asked, thinking my touch had unknowingly put too much pressure on his wound.
"Yes," he stammered, "I'm fine. I just – don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." I murmured, resting my lips against his hair. I almost didn't want to know what he thought of it. He rested in my arms for a short while before he pushed himself up and turned around to sit before me.
"You owe me for that, Yero my hero." I said; my face hadn't yet completely lost its unsightly blush and I tried to hide it from him. He caught my cheek in his hand, forcing me to look at him.
"I know, and like I promised, sooner or later I'll be able to repay you for it in full once this blasted arm is through torturing me. For now, though..." He pulled my face close to his and touched his lips to mine in a series of little kisses, each one deeper and more passionate than the one before it. I laughed lightly and leaned in to receive his kisses, stealing them from his lips and then giving them back, only to accept another right after I returned them. When finally we did pull away from each other the blood was singing in my ears and I could feel my heart beating swift as a bird's.
"Fae-Fae, that was beautiful. You really ought to sing for me more often, if this is what comes after it." I smiled, averting my eyes; the blush was creeping back up into my cheeks.
"Now you've only got to remember the song from Shiz and I'll be able to stop bothering you." He smiled, but the little grin was erased from my lips; I couldn't sing again, not that song.
"I'm not singing that one, even if I do manage to remember all the words to it." I replied, wiping my face blank.
"But your voice is beautiful; what are you so afraid of?"
"It's the memories that come with my lyrics I really don't care to recall."
"What's to be afraid of? A memory is just a residual image of something that's long past; what's to be afraid of?"
"It's not that I'm afraid of them, it's the fact that they're there. In case you haven't noticed, every memory I have has some sort of pain attached to its recollection."
"How so?"
"Look, love, I really don't want to talk about it right now." I said, turning my face away. He still didn't know exactly how much loss I've seen, how much my heart still twanged with hurt every time the subject was brought up; if he continued with the oblivious glib comments I'd most definitely spark either my own depression or an argument. He didn't need me to sink into either, nor did I want to. Right then I wanted to love Fiyero as best I was able and I needed more than anything to be loved by him; in order for me to love him like he deserved first I needed to forget the curse of memory that came with loss; a loss that cut too deep, bled too freely and scarred too visibly to ignore.
"Elphaba, what is it? Please let me in. I can't take being shut away." he said gently, sliding his hand over my shoulder and down my arm until his fingers were tangled with mine.
"You're not much going to like what I have to say."
"Try me."
"No, love, it's not worth it."
"Elphie." He stared into my eyes and I saw the pain in them. "Please. I don't know how to help you if you won't agree to help yourself."
"I really don't enjoy being psychoanalyzed."
"I'm not trying to. You need to let go of whatever's weighing on your soul."
"I've never had a soul."
"I'm not up to a repeat of conversations and arguments that died years ago. All I'm asking is that you open up to me. I want to help you."
"Fiyero, everything I do or say comes with memory, memory I neither want nor need. Memory that reaches throughout my veins and threatens to shred me apart. I look at you and I see the pain I've caused. I remember your family and I see blood. I think of Glinda and I see her face pallid and cold. I look at myself and I often see a monster, sometimes a disease, and others a human wrecking ball. I've destroyed so many, and now it's destroying me. I don't know how to escape." I paused, then laughed derisively. "Strange how much fresh damage my remembering one song can cause."
"Elphie, come." he said, reaching out to pull me into his embrace. I wanted to resist, afraid he would hurt himself, but gave in despite it. He enfolded me in a one-armed embrace and I squeezed him back as hard as I could.
"Help me, Fiyero, I can't do this alone. I don't even know if I can do this at all." I murmured, fraught and exhausted, yet more open than I'd ever been with him. I'd never been one to bare my soul or lack thereof to anyone, not even to myself, but now I had reached the point of no return. It was either I admit to my own weakness and ask Fiyero for the help I so desperately needed or let him watch me waste into a wraith with nothing left of me but the emaciated shell of my body.
"I'll do my best if you will. I won't leave you alone with this, Elphaba. I'd never give you up, not for the world." he said softly, moving as if to run his hand through my hair but stopping mid gesture, hissing with pain. I extricated myself from him and moved away. I knew I needed help, preferably as soon as possible, but he came first in my eyes. Right now he needed my help more than I needed his.
"We can deal with my twisted mind some other time. First I want you to take care of yourself. Rest now; I'll still be here when you wake." I gently pushed his good shoulder until he was resting back against the pillows. I smoothed his hair away from his face and smiled feebly. "What can I do for you?"
"Can you sing for me, the one Unexpected Song, one last time? I'll never ask you to again if you'll do this for me now."
"I'll try." Pushing the notes past the knot in my throat I sang him into sleep before curling up beside him, descending into the irrevocable blackness of the night clouding my eyes – or were they tears fogging my vision?