Chapter 27

A/N Thank you to those who reviewed! Dorothy inWonderland and Wicked Is My Life; thanks for the catch-up reviews! It's very very much appreciated!

Something had changed within her.

She loved him. She loved him and he loved her back.

It made her...different.

There was a sense of calm and peace within her now, that she'd never known before.

She was still in bed, accepting, finally, that even vehement protest would not convince Drakin to let her get up. Not that, in all honesty, she'd be able to. Yackle hadn't been lying when she'd said that Fiyero would heal by what she gave to and took from him and the guards hadn't spared him. Every part of her body hurt. Every ounce of energy gone. Her mind was exhausted, her body spent. Strangely, the pain helped. What she'd done, she'd done with good reason.

Fiyero, despite not being in great shape yet himself, had been by her side the whole time. But he'd lost sleep while she caught up on it and he hadn't been able to keep his eyes open now that she was awake and he'd seen with his own eyes she would be okay.

Without thinking, she'd moved over a little on the bed to make room for him and motioned for him to lie down. He'd raised his eyebrows, surprised at her gesture, but he'd lain down next to her and been asleep, his head on her stomach, in minutes.

It hurt, the weight adding pain to what was already sore, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She couldn't stop staring at him.

If someone had told her a few years, a few months, a few weeks, ago that she'd be in this situation, in this bed, with Fiyero Tiggular, she'd have snorted. And been angry, probably.

She'd never wished for it because it had been so ridiculously beyond possible that she didn't see the point in wishing, but she'd dreamed about it. She'd dreamed about it so often, waking up annoyed and frustrated with herself for wanting things she knew she'd never have.

And now, here she was.

And she had it.

He loved her. She could no longer deny it. He loved her as much as she loved him. He'd left everything behind, just to be with her. He didn't see the ugly, the distortion, the flaws, when he looked at her. He really didn't. Her head still reeled from that knowledge but it had also made her lighter. Before, a part of her had still believed, even after all his wonderful words and loving gestures, that he was overdoing it. That he did see what she saw, but he was kind enough to call her beautiful. Kind enough to love her, despite his better judgment.

He'd been ready to die for her. Fiyero Tiggular. He'd swung in on that rope to save her, ready to pay for her life with his. She couldn't think of any universe where that would make sense but it had happened.

He deserved so much more than her. So much better.

But that wasn't the scariest part. The scariest, most terrifying part was that she...she wanted this. This. Right here. She wanted to lie here, next to him, his head on her stomach, his breath on her skin. She wanted to sleep beside him as they had the nights before, with his arm wrapped around her and wake up next to him, their legs entwined. She wanted to be with him till they day she died. With him, through him, because of him, she wanted things she'd never wanted before. Had never thought about before. Never had and never would have, until him.

He kept talking, his parents kept talking, even Drakin, about how she had changed him. About how he had changed because of her. But no one mentioned, because they didn't have an inkling, of how much he had changed her. What he'd meant to her life, what he'd done.

She moved down a little on the bed so they were face to face and took in every little detail of his face. She'd seen it in dreams so often, and now here it was, beside her on the pillow.

"Thank you."

She whispered the words, hoping it wouldn't wake him and brushed her lips across his cheek. She felt silly and embarrassed. Awkward. But she needed to say the words, even if he'd never know she'd said them.

He moved a little, made sleepy murmuring noises.

"Hmmz?"

"Ssh. Go back to sleep."

"Whaddid ya say?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"What were you thanking me for?"

He was still half asleep, his eyes still closed.

"For everything." For loving me.

He shook his head and pulled her closer, his face hidden in her neck.

"Crazy woman."

His nose and lips pressed against her skin.

"I love you. Now you sleep too."

She couldn't suppress the smile. Maybe, for this moment, she could enjoy her cocoon for a little bit longer.

Just for this moment.

Keegan felt guilty.

He didn't like it.

Glinda had come to see him again. This time to extract a promise not to say anything about anything if Morrible came to see him.

She'd stood before him, dwarfed by his height but completely unintimidated and as beauiful as ever. He'd marvelled at how she always managed to look radiant. Glinda the Good, he'd decided, was spring-became-summer in a sparkling dress. He couldn't not be impressed by her.

He was, and he'd voiced that out loud, utterly impressed. He was also adamant that she'd brought nothing but trouble to his life and he'd refused to make a promise like that, leaving her huffing out the door.

He'd felt strangely guilty about disappointing her but the helpless anger he felt at her presumption that he would do as she said was stronger.

Not that it had mattered, in the end. She needn't have bothered because Morrible had never stopped by.

Keegan knew it was because she didn't need him. If Glinda had told the truth, then Morrible would know the truth too.

Either way; she hadn't come, so Keegan could have spared himself the torture of what he would tell her.

It made him annoyed with Glinda. Annoyed and maybe even angry. He'd been thinking about finding some way to let her know that.

And then the news had come. The Governor of Munchkinland was dead. Killed in a strange accident. The Witch's sister. And the Witch, in some sort of struggle with Glinda the Good, who had skillfully lured her into a trap, had been arrested. After all those years, the Guards had finally had their hands on the terrorist they'd hunted for.

And then the Captain had swung in and saved her. He'd pointed a rifle at Glinda the Good and bought the Witch's freedom.

He'd paid for it with his life, or so they'd said.

They'd celebrated. His fellow men coming in to see him, congratulating him with slaps on the shoulder, reassuring him with inappropriate jokes, expecting him to celebrate with them.

He had smiled and cheered best he could and spent the time laughing at jokes he didn't think were funny and wondering all the while about what had really happened. Because if everything up till then had been a lie, then this too would be one. There would be more to the story than any of them knew.

Before he'd been able to find a way to ask Glinda, however, more news had come. The Captain had disappeared from where they'd left him. They'd left him to die and suffer the shame and now he was gone.

Everyone in the city seemed to be talking about it. Where had he gone? How had he survived? Who had taken him down from that pole? He'd been left as good as dead. Could the Witch be so arrogant as to come back to where they had caught her? Could she be so powerful as to bring a man back from the dead? They didn't want to believe it.

But again, Keegan wondered about the truth. Because...if Glinda had told the truth...if they loved each other...it all made sense, didn't it? If they loved each other, then would it not be understandable for the Captain to save her from sure execution? Being arrested would lead to her death within 24 hours, no doubt about it. So of course Fiyero would save her. And if she loved him back, then wasn't it to be expected that she, a powerful witch, would come and get him?

Keegan, for a change, didn't know. He hadn't been re-installed. Not only because everyone assumed he needed more time to recover from his ordeal with the Witch, but also because he'd stopped asking. Since Glinda's visit, since learning what he now believed to be the truth (even if he'd tried very hard not to believe it), he'd lost any sense of direction.

Going back to work, back to the Gale Force, knowing what he knew...he wasn't sure he was up to it. He had too many questions. Questions he wouldn't be able to ask, but would before long. How could he trust any new Captain now? How could he listen to his instructions, to what new recruits were told about the Witch, when he knew it was different?

He didn't want to. He couldn't want to.

He'd seriously considered burning his uniform, giving his notice and moving back home. He'd be happy to see his parents, his sisters. Maybe Susie from across the street wouldn't be dating anyone new. The thought appealed to him and he thought about it every day.

But he didn't go.

Because even if he went home, took up his place in his father's business and married Susie, he wouldn't forget. He'd still wonder about the truth. He'd still want to know.

In the end, that's what it came down to. That's the only thing he did know; he wanted to know the truth. If he had been lied to his whole adult life, he wanted to know.

So when the news came that Fiyero had disappeared, he'd checked himself out, went straight up the interim-Captain's office and told him that, come heaven or hell, he was going back to work.

He should have been there when his fellow soldiers had rushed to Glinda's side. He should have been there as they arrested Fiyero and convicted him for treason. Even if he hadn't been able to do anything, because he would never have been able to do anything (and honestly, he wasn't even sure he wanted to) but he should have been there.

And as long as he was confused about where to stand and where to go, he might as well be in the thick of it. That way, maybe he'd be able to gather some more information. Maybe he'd find out more about the Witch, Morrible, the Wizard. And maybe he'd be able to get word to Glinda.

Somehow, she was his only link to the truth, what was left of it, and he needed her.

He needed to know the truth. And he would get it.

She was reading up on spells, preparing for what needed to be done, while she asked him questions about the lay-out of the castle and the security measurements. He answered them, with reluctance because he hated her putting herself in danger again, but without complaints.

Yackle was still around the castle, somewhere, but the woman came and went without giving or taking much notice of anyone. She'd come to see Elphaba while she'd been unconscious, or so Fiyero had told her, but Elphaba hadn't seen her since waking up. It wouldn't have bothered her, if she hadn't needed her. She had questions about some spells. She'd never asked many questions, had always been able to figure out what she needed to know without too much effort but the Grimmerie was still a mystery to her more often than not, and she couldn't afford to take any risks.

This time, it had to be waterproof. She had one plan, one shot, one chance.

Fiyero was helping her, in a manner of speaking, but she knew he did it against his better judgment and it made his answers clipped and careful. Afraid to give too much away, afraid of making it seem too easy, afraid it would result in her taking bigger risks.

Regardless, he answered each of her questions, lying back against the foot of the bed, a pillow in his back, drawing circles on the sole of her left foot.

It was this fact that pointed out to her, once more, how much she'd changed. Inside. Her heart had transformed. She was planning an attack on the man she hated, truly hated and she was anxious, angry and scared, despite her determination. But with it, there was something new. It was the strange and unfamiliar feeling of confidence. Of knowing she was loved.

It irked her.

She loved the feeling of his fingers on her feet, and of his feet tickling her side. She loved the closeness, the intimacy. It made them almost...normal.

But they weren't.

And she wasn't.

She was planning an attack on the ruler of their country. She wasn't normal and she never would be.

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