Apologies for the typo in the previous chapter! I fixed it now. Due to the eye laser procedure I underwent a month ago, I still have double vision when trying to read anything less than half a metre away and that is very annoying when proofreading. If you find any other typos, please do let me know!

Also, I'm completely overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! Thank you so much for that, it really made my day!

2. The Green Girl's Plight

It was two days after his previous visit to The Hidden Depths that Fiyero returned. He'd had a wonderful night again with the pretty blonde Topaz and he was looking forward to making use of her services again – or maybe he would try one of the other girls today.

His grandparents had, indeed, scolded him none too mildly for his behaviour the day before, but he'd treated them like he'd been treating his parents the past years: he ignored them and went on doing what he was doing. His grandfather, Kevon, did make him help out at the farm while he was there, which he did begrudgingly, but he was determined to make what he saw as good use of his free time.

Madame Morrible, like the time before, greeted him with enthusiasm and a greedy glint in her eyes. "What can I do for you tonight, Your Highness?"

Fiyero glanced around him. There were more people present tonight – a couple of men drinking in a corner of the brothel's common room, some pretty girls in their laps. He nodded at them. "Who are those girls?"

"That is Onyx," Morrible said, indicating a fuller girl with dark skin and black hair, "and the blonde one is Crystal. They're on common room duty tonight, so they're unavailable. Topaz is occupied with someone else at the moment as well, but you could wait for her if you'd like."

"Which girls are available right now?" the prince asked as he returned his attention to the brothel's madam.

Morrible checked a book that was lying on the bar. "Ruby is available," she said. "Let's see... Jade and Sapphire have the night off. There's Pearl or Diamond, but I'm afraid... Oh, of course – Emerald is available as well."

"The exotic one?" Fiyero's curiosity was piqued. "She is no longer indisposed?"

Morrible's lips curled into a wry smile. "No, Your Highness, she is very much available once more. Would you like to give her a try? She's really quite something." She tapped one long nail on the book. "She will cost you six pieces of silver."

"Six?"

Morrible nodded. "She is more special than even Topaz, Your Highness, I can assure you that much. She will be well worth her price."

"All right then." Fiyero paid the woman and Morrible smiled triumphantly at him.

"Once again, up the stairs and down the hallway," she almost sang. "The door at the end of the hall is Emerald's."

Fiyero thanked her and went up the stairs, following the woman's directions until he reached the right door. He knocked and then pushed it open.

The moment he laid eyes on Emerald, he understood why she was called that: her skin was an undeniable shade of emerald green. He stood there for a moment, baffled, and wondered if he was seeing things. He'd hardly had anything to drink so far today, so he couldn't be drunk… right?

He closed the door behind him and approached her. She was watching him warily from behind a curtain of long, curly, raven black hair. She was pretty, he decided, despite – or maybe even because of – her green skin.

"Hello there," he said with a grin. "Madame Morrible was right – you're quite something else." He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Please," she whispered, almost begging him. "Please don't touch me. I'll pay you back every coin you've paid for me, I promise, and more if you want me to, but please... please just leave me alone. I'm sorry. I can't..." She whimpered and shrunk away further, shaking her head. "Not yet, not tonight. Please."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why not? What's wrong with you?"

She just kept on shaking her head and he said, "If you're still indisposed, then why are you working tonight in the first place?"

"Because Madame Morrible wanted me to," she said quietly, lowering her gaze. "She said I'd had enough time to recover. I'm one of her most popular girls and she said she can't afford to give me off more than a few nights, but I really can't do this yet. I'm so sorry, but please, please leave me be."

All thoughts of pleasure and fun disappeared when he looked at this girl, so slender and pale and so obviously terrified, and he sat down in the chair beside the bed. "I won't do anything," he assured her. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" She looked panicked, all of a sudden. "If Madame Morrible finds out I'm chasing away customers now..."

"She won't," Fiyero cut her off. "Don't worry. I'll just stay in here for a while, keep up appearances, then tell her you were amazing when I leave. You don't have to pay me back and I won't touch you if you don't want me to. It's okay."

She glanced at him from beneath eyelashes just as thick and dark as that mass of hair. "Really?" she asked hesitantly and he nodded.

"I swear it."

"All right," she whispered, visibly sagging with relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's nothing." He studied her. She wasn't just slender – she was rather skinny, actually, as if she had never had enough to eat. Her skin was a vibrant green and she was dressed in a black robe of silk, with her ebony hair hanging loosely down her back and reaching her waist. Her eyes were a rich, dark brown and her lips, he noted, were an interesting shade somewhere between a darker green and grey.

She curled into herself on the bed, a small frown on her face as she clutched her abdomen. When she noticed him watching her, she looked almost guilty.

"Are you in pain?" he asked. She hesitated and he added, "It's all right. You can tell me."

She nodded and then confessed quietly, "Yes."

"What happened? Are you sick?"

She shook her head, but she didn't say anything else and he frowned a little. "Will you at least tell me your name? It's not Emerald, is it? Unless Morrible picked her girls because of their matching names..."

That earned him the tiniest of smiles from her and he was surprised at what it did for her, lighting up her face and making her look even prettier. There was a faint hint of dimples in her cheeks. "No. She just gave us all mineral names because she thought that sounded interesting, and to protect our privacy to some degree."

Fiyero nodded – that made sense, even though protecting the privacy of prostitute seemed a little ironic somehow. "Can you just tell me your real first name, then?"

She bit her lip, seeming to think about that for a moment. Then she said, "Elphaba."

"That's a beautiful name."

She was about to reply when she grimaced and doubled over again, clutching her abdomen as she squeezed her eyes shut. Alarmed, he moved closer to the bed and rubbed her back. "Elphaba?" The name rolled easily off his tongue. It really was a beautiful name, he thought – she was probably named after Saint Aelphaba, although she pronounced her own name slightly differently. "Are you all right? Should I call someone?"

She shook her head violently. "I'm fine. Please don't call anyone."

"Okay." He looked at her. The pain seemed to ease; she relaxed a little and he pulled away from her, suddenly aware of how close they were. He wondered what was wrong with her, but didn't want to push her when she so obviously didn't want to talk to him about it.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked her. "To help you? You seem like you're ill, Elphaba. You should be sleeping, or at the very least resting in your bed with a cup of tea or some soup."

Elphaba huffed a breathless laugh, her hands still pressed against her abdomen. "People in my profession, especially with my background, don't get coddled when they're not feeling well."

He realised that that was probably true and for some reason, it made him feel bad. If he were completely honest with himself, he had never really considered the possibility that all those beautiful, purring girls at the brothels he visited may not want to be there at all. That maybe they were somehow forced to do what they did and that they didn't like doing it. Life must be lonely for girls like Elphaba – there was a lot of "love" going around for them, but in the end, most of them probably went home alone... if they even had a home of their own.

"I'll coddle you, then," he said, suddenly determined; and he rose to his feet and left the room, going down to see Madame Morrible.

She looked surprised. "Back already, Your Highness? Was Emerald not satisfying?"

He didn't miss the way her eyes narrowed when she asked that question and he was quick to wave her away. "No, no, it's not like that at all! She's marvellous, actually. Very good, if you know what I mean." He winked. "I just came to ask you if I could maybe have some food brought up. It hasn't even been that long, but I've already worked up an appetite. Also, is it possible for me to have Emerald for the rest of the night? I'll pay for every hour, of course."

She looked appeased – pleased, even. "It is, Your Highness."

He handed her some gold. "Will this do?"

"That is more than enough. I will tell the other customers that Emerald will be occupied for the night." She smirked. "What kind of food would you like, Your Highness?"

"Oh, nothing special," he said with a winning smile. "Perhaps just some soup and bread? Maybe some fruit, if you have it, and a bottle of wine?" Wine might help her sleep and maybe ease some of her pain. He wanted to ask for tea, too, but thought that might come off as too suspicious, since he was pretending the food was for him.

"That is fine," she agreed. "It will be left outside your door shortly so that you will not be disturbed. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Madame." With that, he went back upstairs to Elphaba.

She looked at him with large, questioning eyes when he closed the door behind him and he told her he had reserved her for the rest of the night. "I want you to get some rest," he said, sitting back down in the armchair. "Some food will be up soon and you're going to eat it and then sleep. You look like you need it. I'll make sure no-one will bother you tonight."

The relief on her face broke his heart and she sounded hoarse when she said, "Thank you."

He went to fetch the food not long thereafter and watched as she tore into the meal like she hadn't eaten in days. Deciding he wanted to try and get to know more about her, he asked, "Where are you from?"

"Originally?" she asked between bites. "Munchkinland. I was left at an orphanage here in the Vinkus when I was nearly four years old."

Fiyero was shocked. "Left?" he echoed.

"By my father. He hated me from the moment I was born because of my skin," she confessed, glancing down at an emerald green arm. "The moment my mother passed away in childbirth with my sister, he no longer had an excuse to keep me around and so he abandoned me."

"You grew up in an orphanage?" he asked, horrified.

She nodded, popping some pieces of fruit into her mouth. "Until I was sixteen. Then I was tossed out into the streets. I lived off begging and stealing for a while and then Madame Morrible found me. I've been working for her ever since, trying to save enough money for me to pay off my debt to her and go and build my own life somewhere."

"And you live here now?"

She nodded again. "We all do."

How many of these girls, Fiyero wondered, had a story similar to Elphaba's? To have absolutely nothing to give, no way to make a living, except for selling one's own body to strangers... it sounded like a nightmare to him, but Elphaba talked about it so matter-of-factly, without a trace of self-pity.

"How old are you?" he asked suddenly and she swallowed a bite.

"Nineteen."

Nineteen. He could only stare at her for a while.

She winced and he quickly took the tray of food away from her, waiting until the wave of pain had passed. Then he asked softly, "What's wrong with you, Elphaba?"

"I shouldn't be telling you any of this," she told him instead of answering. "We're not supposed to speak of our personal lives – or speak at all."

"And I'm not supposed to sit here and want to hear your story after paying for a whole different kind of service," he countered, "and yet here I am."

"I know." She sighed. "I suppose I at least owe you the answers to your questions for everything you've done for me tonight. Really – thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"It's not a problem," he insisted. "And I don't want you to tell me things about yourself because you think you owe me that. You don't owe me anything. I'm just worried about you and interested in your life, that's all. You're an interesting girl."

She chuckled. "I guess you could say that." She was silent for a moment and then she said, so softly that he almost couldn't hear her, "I was pregnant."

He froze.

"Madame Morrible brews us potions," she continued, not looking at him. "To prevent… unwanted consequences from happening. There's a slight chance of them not working, though, so I guess it was bad luck. Of course, I couldn't have the baby – I could never care for it on my own and Madame Morrible can't have a baby to care for, either, so she made me... well... get rid of it. The cramps and pains are just the aftermath of the procedure."

Fiyero hadn't thought he could grow more horrified than he already was at her story, but this... he didn't even know what he could say to this. She was only nineteen, four years younger than he was, and she had already been through so much. He thought of his own rich, pampered, perfect life and he felt spoilt and guilty, somehow. Almost dirty. How had he ever believed that his life was bad?

"You said Morrible thought a few nights was enough time for you to recover," he recalled, his voice shaking a little, and she nodded.

"It all happened a few days ago," she said. "The doctor said I should be on bed rest for three days and take it easy for a week, but I could never take that much time off. I was surprised Madame Morrible let me take a couple of nights, actually – it was probably only because I kept throwing up and I looked like a ghost, so no man would want me, anyway. Everything hurts," she admitted, "and the mere thought of... well, doing my job... makes me want to vomit all over again, but I have to."

"Not tonight," he told her sternly and she laughed softly.

"No," she agreed. "Not tonight. Thank –"

"Stop thanking me," he said. "You're welcome. Let's just leave it at that."

She smiled at him, her dimples appearing more profoundly this time. He couldn't help but smile back.

Some of you are expecting (and/or fearing) right now that this will be a really dark story. It's not (or I don't think it is, anyway). I've tried to mainly put the focus on Elphaba and Fiyero (and to a lesser extent some others as well) as characters, how their lives shaped them and how they develop and grow now, both individually and in their relationship later on; and I've tried to keep the story relatively light despite the heavy topics - I think it will be comparable to No Day But Today in that sense.

Last but not least (sorry for all the AN nonsense - I have a lot to say today, haha), some friend promotion. VinkunEmeralds wrote a really sweet one-shot called Remembering You, so go check that out on her profile! Also, in case you've read my drabbles Fanfiction and Fanfiction 2, go read the sequel PocketSevens wrote to those, Fanfiction 3, on his profile. It's about No Day But Today, among other things, and there's a teaser for his next fic, too. It's hilarious, so don't drink anything whilst reading it or I can promise you you'll snort it out of your nose.