Content Advisory: Major Character Injury, Description of Injuries, Violence, Near Death Experience, Blood (Minor), Grief. Heavy emotional content ahead, proceed thoughtfully.
✉ Chapter Thirty-Two: Broken Streak ✉
Aflame and covered with ash, Elphaba fell to her knees on the drawbridge of Kiamo Ko with an anguished wail.
"Fiyero!" she called in a state of shock, desperately grasping at the ground and air as if it were still possible to reach him. "Fiyero! FIYERO!"
Doctor Dillamond and Amalia sprinted towards her and Amalia began stomping on the hem of Elphaba's dress which she hadn't even realized was on fire.
"Miss Elphaba what happened?!"
"I need…I need—I need—" Elphaba panted, scrambling to her feet and busting into the castle.
"What happened?" Nessarose asked, her eyes wide as Elphaba charged to her and seized the crystal ball from her lap. "Where's Fiyero?"
Elphaba paced away from Nessarose as she stared desperately into the crystal ball. She placed it on an end table and crouched over it, her chest heaving as she placed her hands over the glass.
"Come on come on come on come on come on—" Elphaba mumbled incoherently as she waited for the vision to appear.
The wretched, despairing scream Elphaba released echoed through every hall in Kiamo Ko as a vision appeared before her eyes. Her eyes stretched wide in horror as her worst nightmares unfolded before her in the crystal ball like a gruesome picture show.
"Stop! Don't touch him! No—" she choked, her knees buckling with grief as she watched her prince being subjected to all manners of violence at the hands of the guards. "No, no, no. No please. Oh merciful Oz, Yero what have I done!?"
"Elphaba?" Nessarose squeaked.
Elphaba ripped The Grimmerie out of her bag and threw it open, her hands quaking as she tore through it desperately looking for a spell, any spell. A spell to shield him. A spell to save him.
"Miss Elphaba. You're in no state for spells!" Dillamond knelt before Elphaba and tried to pull The Grimmerie away from her. She savagely ripped it back towards her with a hiss.
"They're beating him. They'll kill him if I do nothing! He'll die. He'll die," she mumbled frantically. "I have to save him. No! I-I have to go back! I have to go to him!"
She stood to her feet and began making a beeline towards the door but Doctor Dillamond grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Miss Elphaba, if you go they'll kill you too!"
"LET THEM!" Elphaba screamed. "They'd damn well better!"
The curtains of the drawing began to billow chaotically and the previously unlit fireplace burst into a roaring emerald flame on its own accord. Overhead lights and lamps busted left and right and glass vases and ash trays exploded into thick shards.
Nessarose shrieked and grabbed for the crystal ball, holding it close as if to preserve it from the magical chaos. She looked down and her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement as she noticed hazy visions coming to life within it. A foggy image of an injured Fiyero came into view and she squinted as another blurry figure thrust herself into the scene.
"Glinda?!" Nessarose yelped.
Elphaba wrenched herself from Dillamond's grasp and crossed towards the fireplace where she and Fiyero were wed. Her hands clutched the mantel and she hung her head low.
"If they take Fiyero from me they'll see," Elphaba plotted in a bone chilling voice. "They think I'm wicked now but they'll see!"
Elphaba slammed her fists on the mantel as she teetered on the very edge of madness.
"If they want a wicked witch so badly they'll get one! Mark my words—they'll get one!"
Nessarose screwed her focus tighter to the crystal ball, feeling the stakes grow by the clock-tick as Elphaba voiced her threats. The image became marginally clearer as Nessarose watched Glinda fling herself on top of Fiyero, covering his battered body with her own. She stretched her hands out towards the guards in a pleading gesture. Nessarose held the crystal ball to her ear in wonderment as she heard Glinda's voice come through faintly. She closed her eyes and listened very closely to make out the muffled voice.
"…don't kill him!…" Glinda pleaded. "…use him…The Witch will come…have them both…go and fetch some…"
"She's stopped them!" Nessarose realized. "Glinda has stopped them! She's coming!"
"What?!" Elphaba wheezed.
There was a sudden cracking sound and a flaming puff of smoke appeared outside. Doctor Dillamond rushed outside again and left the door open.
"Come quickly!" Glinda coughed from the drawbridge. "We need help!"
"FIYERO!" Elphaba shouted, nearly tripping over her singed skirts as she dashed towards the castle entrance.
She caught a glimpse of a scorched Glinda laying sideways on the ground after a rough teleportation. She was coughing violently and hovered over a chillingly still body on the ground.
"Keep Elphaba inside!" Glinda's strained voice yelled. "Don't—don't let her see him!"
Amalia immediately restrained Elphaba as the Vicar and Doctor Dillamond rushed towards the lawn to conference with Glinda.
"Let me go! Let me see him! Let me see him!" Elphaba protested, thrashing against Amalia to get free.
"Elphaba please!" Nessarose appealed as Amalia managed to wrestle Elphaba into the drawing room. "They need to get him inside. Come here."
Elphaba collapsed to her knees before Nessarose's chair and buried her head in her sister's lap with an inconsolable moan. Nessarose leaned forward and cradled Elphaba's head to shield her view. Amalia mobilized to assist the others in carrying Fiyero into the castle and past the drawing room hall.
"He's dead, isn't he?" Elphaba dry heaved. "That's why they won't let me see him. He's dead."
"We don't know that," Nessarose stroked Elphaba's hair. "Just breathe, Fabala."
"I cannot bear it, Nessa," Elphaba rasped. "I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it."
"Elphie?"
Elphaba wrenched her head from Nessarose's lap and clapped a hand over her mouth when she laid eyes on Glinda. She was disheveled and sweaty, her clothes and pretty face were caked in ash. Curls frizzed and rumpled, eyes bloodshot. Her petite frame trembled in shock and Elphaba stilled upon seeing the long, red smears of blood staining her shiny dress.
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said. She looked down at her dirty dress, as if only now noticing the state she was in, and her hands bunched at her skirts restlessly. "Oh dear…I never was very good at teleporting."
Elphaba didn't move, her frantic energy giving way to numbness.
"Glinda?" she asked in a small voice. "Is he…is he…?"
"I stopped them as quick as I could," Glinda promised with a sniff.
"Can I see my husband now?" Elphaba asked in a haunted whisper. "Please?"
Nessarose glanced at Glinda who at last nodded. Glinda lifted Elphaba to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulder to gently guide her down the hall. Dillamond and the others were congregated outside a first-floor bedroom and Glinda nodded to them.
"She will see him now," Glinda said.
"Are you sure—" Dillamond began.
"Yes," Glinda advocated. "She will see him now."
The others drifted down the hall back towards the drawing room and Elphaba stared blankly at the cracked door. She was usually able to steel herself for difficult moments, but this was uncharted territory for her. Her body ached with dread. Her heart prepared to perish. She prepared to lose herself.
Glinda released Elphaba and the door creaked slightly as she nudged it open and stepped inside.
"Oh," Elphaba gasped, her hands grasping at her abdomen as all of her breath knocked out of her. "Oh, my love."
Fiyero, grievously maltreated, was laid out motionless on the bed. The guards hadn't had long with him, but the damage was done. His skin was clammy and bruised with dried blood staining his handsome face. His eyes were closed and unresponsive, but Elphaba watched as his chest rose and fell with effort to supply his body with ragged breath.
"He's breathing," Elphaba's voice broke.
Upon realizing that Fiyero was still alive, Elphaba helplessly turned towards Glinda who caught her in a hug as she all but collapsed in relief.
"He'll be okay, Elphie," Glinda promised, rubbing Elphaba's back with her hand. "I know it."
"How do you know?"
"Because goodness has to win, Elphaba, it just has to. He's got too much life ahead of him," Glinda pulled back and to look Elphaba in the eye. "You both do."
When Elphaba was settled enough to speak, the others gathered outside of the bedroom as Glinda, who'd witnessed much of the traumatic ordeal, relayed what she knew. She'd convinced the guards to keep Fiyero alive as a ploy to lure in Elphaba. She persuaded them to fetch water in case The Witch returned before smuggling Fiyero to Kiamo Ko.
"They'll be wondering how he vanished. I'll come up with something, but if they don't believe me…" Glinda trailed off, uncertain of the consequences awaited her in The Emerald City. "I was already on thin ice after Chistery. Morrible was testing me. I've…likely compromised my cover entirely by bringing him here."
"Then stay here with us," Elphaba urged. "Drop the act and join us."
"I can't, Elphie. There's still too much to do, too much to fix," Glinda explained. "You've got your work…and I've got mine."
"You risked everything today. You saved his life, Glinda," Elphaba said quietly. "If we weren't in your debt already we certainly are now."
"Oh, Elphie. There can be no debt between friends," Glinda smiled softly, pressing a hand to Elphaba's cheek. "You and Fiyero have helped make me into the person I am today…all I've done is help you in return."
Elphaba pulled Glinda into a strong, long-lasting hug. They hoped it wouldn't be their last.
"You take good care of our prince now," Glinda whispered, gently booping Elphaba on the nose with her finger as she pulled away. "And come visit me in prison."
The others saw Glinda out and Elphaba took a deep breath before turning back towards Fiyero. She realized she'd been holding her breath and she puffed it out with a stiff shake of her head. Out of their immediate group, Elphaba was the most experienced healer from her time tending to refugees. She wished that she wasn't. When she tended to strangers she could detach herself as needed, but that was not possible when it came to Fiyero.
However, as Elphaba began her work of assessing Fiyero's injuries, she changed her mind. It was as harrowing as it was humbling to treat him, but she was thankful she was the one doing it. As she cleaned his wounds she felt the full weight of their less than week old vows. Who among them could treat him more thoroughly? Who could tend to him as tenderly? Elphaba was the one for the task because she had the most to lose…and the most to gain from his getting well.
Who out there could care for him better than his own wife?
Elphaba delicately placed her hands over his fractured ribs and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in through her nose and felt her hands glow with warmth as she exhaled through her mouth, radiating healing magic into the area of harm. It was not enough to heal without consequences, no magic was, but it'd speed his healing. She hoped, too, it'd lessen his pain.
With Fiyero's wounds dressed to the best of her ability, Elphaba could do no more than wait. She pulled a chair beside his bedside and began her unbudging vigil, holding Fiyero's limp hand in hers with her fingers strategically pressed to his wrist to assure herself of his pulse. Occasionally Amalia or Nessarose would poke their head in, encouraging Elphaba to take a breather or come eat, to which she always refused. Night fell and, after suggesting one last time that Elphaba get some sleep, the others went to bed.
A bedside lamp remained lit well after midnight, and though Elphaba's eyes felt dried out and weary, she could not and would not sleep. The most she did was hunch over to lay her head on the mattress as she rubbed her thumb back and forth over Fiyero's wedding band. As the clock struck the witching hour, she felt his finger twitch. She convinced herself that she was imagining it, until it happened again.
Elphaba lifted her head with expectant hope as Fiyero issued a single, pained grunt.
"Fiyero?" she managed, her voice hoarse and wispy. She pressed her lips to the hand she was holding and brushed some hair off of his forehead. "Yero, I'm here."
He groaned again and his face ticked into an uncomfortable grimace. His eyelids fluttered Elphaba held her breath as she watched Fiyero's blue eyes slowly but surely open.
"Fae?"
"Oh," Elphaba exclaimed in a quiet, quivering voice. "Oh, Yero. Oh, thank Oz."
Fiyero's vision blurred in and out but soon sharpened just enough to register Elphaba's face. His brow furrowed in foggy focus as he looked upon his wife, and after a moment of deliberation, he uttered a single, heartbreakingly sincere phrase.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"What? Am I—am I…" A hoarse chuckle escaped Elphaba but it was quickly overshadowed by a sudden heaving in her chest. "Am I—" Her lips began to shake. "I—" Her face screwed up tight. "I—" She made a sound between a wheeze and a hiccup. "I…"
Then at last —at last—a terrific cry broke through Elphaba Tigelaar's lips as years of pent-up pain exploded out of her in a mess of anguished tears. Her shoulders began to shake as wild sobs wracked her body and her breath came in sharp, choking gasps. Her face grew puffy and scrunched, eliciting childlike wails and whines as she tried in vain to control herself. It was no use. She'd suppressed her grief for far too long, and it had finally come to collect its debt. So, she cried. She cried for Fiyero, she cried for herself. She cried for all that had happened and all that was to come.
"Hey…" Fiyero frowned in disorientation over Elphaba's sorrow. "Don't cry. You'll break your streak."
"It's broken. Oh, Fiyero. I've broken everything. It's all broken," Elphaba wept.
Fiyero tried to sit up but inhaled sharply at the pain in his ribs.
"No!" Elphaba gasped, instinctively easing him back against the pillows. "No, stay. You're hurt, darling. You're very hurt. Keep still."
With a jolt she removed her hands from his body and stared at them distrustfully. She'd used the same hands to heal him before, but now she felt as if her touch could only inflict more damage upon him.
"I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so sorry," she cried through chattering teeth. "This is my fault. This is all my fault."
"It isn't—"
"Don't tell me that it isn't when it is! You're dazed, you don't remember, but you got hurt because of me. Because of me!"
"I remember enough," Fiyero wheezed as he shifted against the pillow. "The guards didn't get to my head much. Must have thought it was a waste of time…injuring a brainless person's brain."
Elphaba shot him scolding, tearful glare.
"It astounds me that you can still make jokes."
Fiyero suddenly cringed with a great groan and Elphaba's face dropped.
"What is it?" she asked, her tears temporarily dwindling as concern took the reins. "Are you hurt?"
"Yeah—ah! —I am. Come…here." Fiyero gestured for her to come back to his side.
"Where? Where does it hurt?" Elphaba asked seriously as she sat back beside him, her eyes scanning him for harm.
"Oof—here," Fiyero feebly tapped the side of his face with his finger. "Come closer…"
Elphaba furrowed her eyebrows, only now picking up on his hammed-up tone. Their eyes met and he winked to confirm his antics. Elphaba hesitated for a moment before leaning forward to permit Fiyero a long, gentle kiss on the cheek.
"Better?" she whispered upon leaning back.
"Much."
"You've still got it, Tigelaar," Elphaba mumbled, wiping her tears on her sleeve. "Charming the ladies even from your deathbed."
"Near death bed," Fiyero corrected groggily. "But I need you to tell it to me straight, doc…am I ever going to dance again?"
"In no time, my love."
"OzDust, then? Next week?" Fiyero asked.
"It's a date."
They lapsed into silence and the lightheartedness they'd mustered soon wilted as Elphaba slipped back into her mind. Fiyero saw the change in her eyes.
"What are you thinking?"
Elphaba's shoulders slackened and she closed her eyes.
"I dreamed too far, Yero. We both did. I feel as if I've just woken up."
"What do you mean?"
Elphaba opened her eyes and felt a single, fresh tear slip down her cheek.
"I want to watch your hair go gray."
"Elphaba…"
"I want to wake up beside you every morning. I want us to celebrate anniversaries. I want a home with you. I want to argue over stupid things and then make up before bed. I want to grow old with you, Fiyero, and I want our children—" Elphaba choked. "—I want our children to help us when we do. I want us to spend so many years together that…we eventually take it for granted."
"I want that too," Fiyero murmured.
"I thought I could accept that we may not have a future. I thought I could accept that the time we had was the time we had. I thought I could just live every moment we had to the fullest—but we've had such…precious little time together as it is. It's not fair. It's not fair that we've been made to settle for scraps."
Elphaba shook her head as she felt herself buckle. "I thought I lost you today, Fiyero."
"Fae…"
"I thought I lost you. The grief of it—it changed me. I scared them. I scared myself. I don't know what I'd do, what I'm capable of, if you got killed, Fiyero. There's darkness inside of me…and I don't want to succumb to it. I don't, Yero. I don't. I don't."
"Come here."
"I can't…" Elphaba shook her head. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You'd never hurt me. Come here, my Elphaba. Come here."
Elphaba sniffed as she cautiously crawled into bed beside her husband and curled up beside him.
"I don't want your letters to be the only thing I have left of you, Fiyero," she whispered. "It isn't just more time I want. Not anymore. I want a life…and I want that life with you."
Fiyero slept through the rest of the night and into the day as his body healed. Every few hours Elphaba would place her hands over him to continue healing his wounds. She caught a few winks of sleep in her chair between treatments, curved over his bed with her neck at a funny angle. At dawn Elphaba endeavored to leave his side for the first time, drifting down the hall in search of coffee. She was surprised to find Nessarose in the kitchen nursing a mug of hot tea, but she hardly should have been. Her sister had always risen with the sun.
"Good morning," Nessarose greeted anxiously. "How…how—"
"Fine," Elphaba answered, sitting at the table across from Nessarose with an exhausted sigh. "Not well…but fine."
"You look dreadful," Nessarose pointed out.
"You do wonders for my confidence," Elphaba cracked a tired, ironic smile.
"I mean you look tired, Elphaba," Nessarose said meaningfully. "You look so dreadfully tired."
"I am tired, Nessa."
"Have you ever considered, I don't know, making a change?" Nessarose approached delicately.
"Making a change?" Elphaba snorted. "All I've ever done is try to make change. Make a difference. Well…look at where my road of good intentions has gotten me. Have I changed the hearts and minds of the masses? That's a laugh."
"But acts of goodness…no matter how small can still cause—" Nessarose began.
"But what's the good of doing good if it's not big?" Elphaba interrupted stiffly. "No…no. Maybe Morrible was right. Maybe the world was right. There are some things you just can't change. I've tried…and now I know."
"Elphaba—"
"We could have gotten out, Nessa. Chistery was free and we had plenty of time to escape safely. Fiyero kept telling me that we should go. But I saw Morrible and I just couldn't leave well enough alone. I chose vengeance, Nessa, I chose wickedness…and Fiyero paid the price. Don't you see? He's just the latest in my supply of disasters. I'm only capable of destruction…of hurting those I love."
Elphaba stood and began to exit the kitchen.
"Change is slow, Elphaba. You can't always see it from where you're at," Nessarose called after her. Elphaba stopped but did not turn around. "Maybe goodness…just takes time to grow."
