Elphaba found herself half-conscious on one of the library couches several hours later, Fiyero awake and reading to her again. She sighed and snuggled closer to him happily. How could she have ever thought she might want anything other than this? Fiyero meant so much to her, more than she was willing to concede to, even then. "Yero," she stopped him for a moment, "how many books have we gone through so far?"
"Five. Should we take a break?"
"We already took one," she teased, gesturing to their naked and exposed bodies. "But, yes, we should take a break." Elphaba stretched and reached for her skirt and blouse. "Fiyero, I know you think now that whenever we have sex, I'm trying to seduce you into thinking something or other, and I want you to know I'm not."
"I know. I trust you, Fae." He assured her. Fiyero only bothered to put pants on; he picked up the shirt, but just wadded it into a ball to be thrown in the laundry when they headed to their room. However, they weren't to head to their room right away. There was a knock at the library door. Yawning, he realized he couldn't remember closing it. Shrugging, he opened the door to Perria, "Yes?"
"Her Royal Highness is here. She'd like to speak with Mistress Elphaba."
Elphaba nodded from behind him. "All right. Would you tell her I'll meet her downstairs in the casual living room in a moment?"
Perria nodded. "Yes, right away."
Fiyero watched Elphaba dress, enjoying the site of her body. Each emerald curve was illuminated by her skin, so that even though she was thin and almost bony, her hips had a hint of roundness to them, her breasts looked full and tender, the ridge of her nose even seemed a bit less harsh than it might if she was any "normal" color. "Didn't I tell you she'd come to talk to you when the time came?"
"Yes, you did." Elphaba combed her fingers through her hair hastily and curtseyed mockingly. "Well, Master Fiyero, my darling husband, do I look presentable?"
Fiyero grinned. "There's a stain on your skirt."
Elphaba circled around herself in the room, examining her skirt. "Where?" After a moment, realizing he'd been joking, she stomped her feet. "Damn you!"
"You know you love me!" He called as she left the room.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up." She called back. Elphaba wandered down the stairs and into the casual living room, smiling sweetly as she greeted Fiyero's mother, who was sitting on a couch looking around the room. Sitting in a chair nearest her, Elphaba said, "It's good to see you."
"I hope so. It's been a while," Elyria said pointedly.
"It has, hasn't it?" Elphaba wouldn't take the bait.
"Look, Elphaba, this entire 'running off' thing isn't appropriate. You can't do that. You are the wife of the crown prince, and that sort of behavior just isn't right. That behavior just isn't appropriate. Think about it. What kind of king will my son make if he's constantly chasing after his wife who goes off and does Oz only knows what in the Emerald City?"
Elphaba almost replied that it wasn't her fault that Fiyero had come after her, but that sounded as if she still resented Fiyero for following her, and she didn't. What might've happened to her if he hadn't ended up catching the two thugs going after her in that alleyway? Even if she had gotten away, she didn't want to imagine what might've happened had she stayed in the city any longer. No, her place was here for the time being, and the time being was a very long time. She knew that. "I know."
"I wasn't here when my son received the news that you'd, well, left, but I know him, and he was probably devastated. When you married him, you accepted a responsibility. If you had doubts, you shouldn't have agreed to marry him."
Elphaba shook her head. "Have you ever said 'no' to those eyes?"
Elyria smiled gently. "Not when it's been something important to him."
"Exactly."
"But this is different! If you were going to break his heart anyway, you should never have given him the idea that you loved him so well. He was so happy, Elphaba, with the thought that you'd be his forever, never leaving him. Fiyero sent me letters when he was in the city, and they were cold. It hurt him very deeply that you left him, especially right in the middle of your honeymoon."
Elphaba sighed. "I won't do it again."
"Elphaba, I have no doubt that you are a wonderful young woman, but you already said you wouldn't by marrying him, and that didn't last. I don't know if I can trust you not to do that to him again."
"I love him."
"You left him."
At the moment, properly dressed (at least as properly dressed as he could be), Fiyero wandered in, hair straightened out a bit and face less flushed. He came up behind the lazy chair and shoved Elphaba to the edge, climbing over it so he sat behind her. Carefully, he tugged Elphaba into his lap and then into his arms. Fiyero had no idea that his mother had wanted to speak to Elphaba privately.
Elyria eyed her son warily. He always wore his shirt with a button open at the top, but it was currently revealing an irritated red mark at the point where his chest and his shoulder met, looking something like a bite mark. She knew what it was. They were twenty-two, couldn't they be more mature? Elphaba seemed to notice the same thing and shifted in Fiyero's arms so she was blocking the mark from Elyria's sight, unaware the woman had already seen it.
Fiyero began to pull at Elphaba's hair, meaning to run his fingers through it. She twitched and almost reached to stop him, but couldn't manage to voice an explanation as to why, at that particular moment, unlike any other, she wasn't going to allow that. He tugged her hair further from her face and higher on Elphaba's neck, Elyria spotted a much worse, larger harsh looking spot. Sweet Oz. How long had Fiyero had to work on that? Her eyes darted away, trying to keep both amusement and disdain out of her glances at the couple. But Elphaba looked up and saw that the woman had caught sight of the awful thing on her neck. Swatting at Fiyero, she hissed at him to play with her hair on the other side of her face. He suddenly seemed to realize why, and smirking to himself, he dropped her hair.
Elyria cleared her throat. "Elphaba, I…"
Elphaba looked at Elyria pitifully. "Sorry."
"For what?"
"That. For everything."
Fiyero hugged Elphaba closely, defensively. "My Fae-Fae."
Elphaba giggled. "Yero my hero."
He gazed into her eyes and then pointed at himself playfully. "Yours?"
Elphaba laughed. "Mine."
He nuzzled his face into the other side of her neck. "Mine?"
She lifted his face. "Yours. Always."
Elyria was speechless. There was no denying the glances the two were giving each other. Whatever misgivings she'd had, she threw them away and stood. "Well, I'd better be going. The little one will need feeding soon, I expect. Elphaba, I… I know you won't."
Elphaba turned to her and understood, nodding silently.
"Well, I'd better go take care of…"
"We'll come! If that's okay, I mean." Elphaba said quickly. "I've wanted so badly to see the baby."
"It's a bit late. Why don't you two just have dinner and stay the night in the castle? That way you won't have to walk home in the dark."
"Oh, Yero, can we?" Elphaba was bouncing in his lap now.
"Whatever you want." Fiyero kissed her forehead.
She hugged him fiercely. "I love you."
He only smiled.
While Elphaba was fussing over the baby, cooing at it energetically, Elyria watched out of the corner of her eye as Rogelio pulled Fiyero into the hallway. She figured the talk he was about to have with his son wasn't needed, but it wasn't completely pointless, either. Turning back to the crib, she looked down at her child. "She barely ever cries, only laughs."
"She's adorable," Elphaba said fondly.
"You start to stop thinking that within the first few hours."
"I could never."
"Wait and see."
"None of the children have your skin," Elphaba said suddenly.
"Nope."
"Do you think, when Fiyero and I have children, they'll inherit the green, the pale or just his skin color?"
"I don't know. I feel like they inherited what should've been my skin color from me, which is very similar to their father's, so I can't tell. With you, since your skin was supposed to have been whiter, we might be able to."
Fiyero sat down in the family room with his father. "What is it?"
"I just wanted to talk, see how things are going between you and your wife since you've returned."
"Wonderfully. She's sorry and she's happy to be home."
"Does she tell you often that she loves you?"
"Yes. But not too often, because if she said it too much, it'd be a bit weird. I'd start to be a bit suspicious."
"Do you make love often?"
"Whenever either of us feels like it, pretty much, unless there are 'female reasons'." Fiyero shrugged.
"I know that deal," Fiyero's father laughed. "She doesn't refuse you otherwise?"
"Not unless I try to initiate it at a completely inappropriate time."
Rogelio raised his eyebrows.
"Dad, you don't want to know." Fiyero grinned sheepishly.
"I was your age once."
"Not too long ago, really," Fiyero said thoughtfully. "Did you ever worry that mom would leave you?"
"Not at all. I think she might have worried I'd leave her. She was paranoid, very concerned. Drove me off the wall, but I loved her." Rogelio patted his son on the shoulder. "Does she actively participate when you two are intimate, or is she a bit distant?"
"She's very there." Fiyero answered. "Never distant. She's always responsive."
"That's good. It's a very important part of marriage, that a couple can share the joy of the physical as well as the emotional. Your mother and I…"
"Dad!" Fiyero covered his ears, horrified.
"Sorry."
"Too much information."
AN: Ha ha, hickies are fun...