Fiyero and Elphaba decided not to waste a second. That same afternoon, they came up with a foolproof – or so they hoped – action plan, divided into six phases:
1. Befriend Glinda.
2. Save Doctor Dillamond.
3. Protect Nessa.
4. Help Animals.
5. Overthrow Morrible and the Wizard.
6. Have a life together.
The last point was added to the list at Fiyero's insistence, but Elphaba had to admit that, cheesy as it was, it filled her heart with hope every time she thought about it.
They agreed to be especially careful in the following days, trying to get the events to play out the way they had before – that is, to the extent that their little agenda would allow. For Fiyero, it meant inviting all of Shiz to a cultish social gathering; for Elphaba – showing up at said gathering in a fashion so humiliating that a certain popular blonde would simply have to take pity on her. It surprised her how little she minded the task. The hardest part was that while she and Glinda – Galinda, she corrected herself mentally – were still supposed to be arch-rivals, the prospect of seeing her again made Elphaba so happy that she had to force herself to retain her standoffish demeanor.
She was so entirely focused on that that she almost tripped across Nessarose's wheelchair in the hallway in front of her and Galinda's dorm.
"I'm so sorry, Nessa," she gasped out. With just one look at her sister, there was a rush of guilt, a wave of regret; a memory of a young woman, alone and crushed and lifeless. Feeling her eyes start to water, Elphaba couldn't resist the urge to lean down and hug Nessarose, who let out a confused chuckle.
"I'm fine, Elphaba!" she said, a smile widening on her face as she prepared for her big announcement. "I just wanted to tell you… I'm going to the dance tonight! Boq asked me!"
"What?"
That was not supposed to happen.
"Yeah!" Nessarose said, beaming. "He was too shy at first, but Galinda encouragerized him! Isn't it wonderful? I know you don't like Galinda, but you have to admit it was really good of her to do that for me! I just wish I could do something for her, you know? To thank her…"
Elphaba smiled absentmindedly at her sister's excited rambling, but her thoughts were elsewhere. If her and Fiyero's plan was failing already, at such an early stage, how were they supposed to keep going?
"Well, anyway," Nessarose said, interrupting Elphaba's musing. "I should go get ready. Wish me luck!"
Having watched after her for a moment, Elphaba opened the door to the dorm and was instantly flooded by a wave of pink and perfume and frills. She forced a frown onto her face mere seconds before catching a familiar pair of eyes in the mirror.
"Galinda, listen… My sister and I were talking about you just now…"
"And I was just talking about you!" Ah, there she is. The confident, perky, silly, vain Galinda. "I thought you might wanna wear this… to the party tonight!"
Galinda's voice sounded just the slightest bit higher than normal, she spoke just a little faster, as if trying to hide her hesitation. She looked to the side every few seconds and Elphaba could tell that, deep down, her roommate knew she was doing the wrong thing. Good, she thought. At least we have somewhere to start.
•••
As she was about to enter the Ozdust Ballroom a few hours later, she was embarrassed to admit to her nerves. Then again, after years of fighting, hiding and running as Oz's most wanted fugitive, it felt strangely refreshing to once again worry about something as trivial as a college party. And so, there she was. Alone, on top of the stairs, entering a party late and drawing all eyes to herself, like some warped, twisted version of a fairytale princess. But at this moment, as she heard the crowd snicker and whisper and cry in disgust, her mind flashed to an image that certainly belonged to no fairytale.
Run. Run for your life. Hide. Don't fight. Don't earn the name they've given you. They're after you. Shouting. "Get her! Get that wicked witch!" How many? A dozen? More? Would they shoot you? Will they shoot you? Do they only see a monster? Do you? Don't think. Just run. Run! Fear at her throat. Heart thundering. No past or future. No reality or illusion. Only this. Flickering lights above. Magic at her fingertips. Sizzling. Stirring. Soaring. Slipping out of control. Scarred mind. Paralyzed body. Frantic eyes scouring through the crowd until—
I'm here.
Fiyero met Elphaba's gaze. She blinked and staggered back, as if about to fall. Fighting the urge to run up and support her, he glanced, instead, at Galinda, who – to his satisfaction – had a look of guilt on her face. As Elphaba tucked the ridiculous black hat onto her head and started dancing alone, Fiyero walked over to Galinda and murmured:
"Well, I'll say this much for her – she doesn't give a twig what anyone else thinks."
"Of course she does," Galinda whispered, more to herself than to him. "She just pretends not to. Oh, I feel awful…"
"Well, it's not your fault, is it?"
"Excuse me."
Fiyero watched, along with everybody else, as Galinda tapped Elphaba's shoulder and started mimicking her awkward dance moves. There was a glare from Elphaba and a few muffled laughs from the crowd, but as Galinda persisted, the derision turned into confusion, confusion into embarrassment, and embarrassment into grudging acceptance. Fiyero stood back and watched the unlikely pair of pink and green, until he noticed Galinda make her way towards him and drag Elphaba behind her.
"Miss Elphaba, have you met Fiyero? Well, now you have! Elphaba, Fiyero. Fiyero, Elphaba," Galinda eagerly introduced her two brand new friends to each other, and Fiyero couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation.
"Fiyero Tiggulaar, pleased to meet you," he said, shaking Elphaba's hand. "Would you care to dance?"
Elphaba glanced at Galinda, who encouraged her with a nod, and took Fiyero's extended hand, letting him lead her onto the dance floor.
"Are you okay?" he asked, lowering his voice, as the music grew louder around them.
"Yeah," she muttered unconvincingly.
"I was worried. For a second there… you seemed terrified."
"Well," she said, finally meeting his eyes, "it's been a long time since derision was all I had to fear when facing a crowd, you know…"
"I know," he said and squeezed her hand. "Look, if you want to leave, I'm sure we can figure out another way—"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "As long as you're here, I'll be okay."
Oz, how he wanted to kiss her, to protect her in the safety of his arms, whispering words of comfort and affection; to make her feel supported and secure and loved. In this moment, though, he had to settle for brushing her hand with his thumb.
"Thank you," she said, smiling, as if she could read his mind. The sheer force of emotion on her face made Fiyero's heart skip a beat. Without even thinking about it, mesmerized by her eyes, he whispered:
"I love you."
He hoped she'd known that for a long time. But they had never said it to each other before, at least not out loud, and now, for the first time in his life, he understood the true weight of the words. And for the first time in his life, he actually meant them.