Chapter 30

A/N Thank you so much for reviewing, guys!

And thanks to those that have already reviewed Gravitation. Amazing.

Now, as promised..

Glinda sat on the edge of her bed and stared at nothing.

The events of the evening racing through her mind, but only in the background. As a slide show, all pictures and no sounds, while her mind whirred and worried about other things. Working to get to conclusions that were just baby steps away.

She'd woken up from a dream that had turned out not to be a dream. An old woman she couldn't remember seeing ever before talking to her through glass and water, hazy and unclear, telling her her help was needed in the Vinkus. Fiyero's voice and Elphaba's face in distorted images. Fiyero's voice saying Elphaba's name in such a pleading manner it had scared Glinda to near-tears.

It hadn't been a dream.

She didn't know how she knew precisely but she knew enough of magic and trusted her own instincts enough to listen. She heeded their call and directed her bubble to the Vinkus.

She didn't want to go there. Not a single bone in her body wanted to go there.

She'd arrived to find Fiyero anxiously waiting for her. He'd hugged her, quickly but tightly and explained the situation in a clipped voice. The woman she'd seen in the dream that wasn't a dream had been there, taking over from Fiyero when he'd gotten too angry and too panicked to properly explain. He needed her help, was what it came down to.

A part of her, a part she hadn't expected to speak up in a moment like this, had wanted to say no. Had wanted to refuse his plea for help. He'd gone and he'd left her by herself to deal with everything alone and now, now that he needed help, now that Elphaba had gone, he needed her to come running.

She'd wanted to refuse. She'd wanted to tell him to find someone else. They would both have to find someone else from now on. She was done running.

But of course, she wouldn't. She would run, as long and as fast as she had to, because this was Elphie.

Elphie, who'd she'd said such horrible things to. No matter that she'd felt them at the time. She shouldn't have said them. She knew full well that Elphaba had not stolen Fiyero. She hadn't been the one to betray Glinda. She never would have. That, along with the love that she'd always feel for her best friend, was enough to make her run to her side.

That, and the niggling truth that had been in the back of her head since Fiyero had left, that Elphie loved the Prince more than Glinda did. And if it was hard on Glinda to be without him, then what had it been like for Elphie, who had been without him, without anyone, for years?

She never would have said a word to Fiyero about her feelings. Glinda knew her former room mate well enough to know that, and she would have lived maybe her whole life without being with the one she loved. The one who loved her.

Glinda didn't want to be responsible for that. She would never want to keep Elphaba from experiencing love. She so deserved it, now more than ever.

And now she was in danger.

So she'd gone. She was the only one who could help. Fiyero hadn't had a choice. They hadn't spoken much aside from that. She'd nodded and brought Fiyero back to the palace, careful not to let anyone see them. The fact that it was the middle of the night helped significantly. So did the fact they both knew the palace well enough to go about unseen.

They'd waited for Elphaba to arrive, sitting in Glinda's room, staring out the window, discussing strategy and plans for every letter of the alphabet.

In the end, when they were half convinced they'd missed Elphaba's entrance, they'd moved to wait outside the throne room, because they needed to be inside before Morrible could be, if it came to that. The Wizard held no power. They'd be able to take him out with minimal effort, but Morrible would be a problem. They'd heard the call for the guards, they'd watched as the men had rushed to the Wizard's aid.

Fiyero had wanted to rush in immediately, his thoughts on the woman who was bound to be inside, but Glinda had pulled him back, reminded him of their ridiculous plan and then pointed at his rifle. They'd discussed this briefly but not thoroughly and she could only hope that they would be convincing enough. That no one had seen them.

In the end, their haphazard plan had worked out well enough.

They'd entered the room only seconds after the guards, Glinda thumbling in first, Fiyero's rifle pressing into her back.

She'd yelped, a very real and therefore convincing one, at the sight of Keegan pointing yet another rifle at the green woman, who stood on the far side of the room, sizing up her enemies, a look of contempt on her face as she stared back at Keegan over the of his weapon.

Her eyes had shifted, along with those of the guards, to Glinda and Fiyero entering the room. Glinda had looked at Elphaba briefly, to assure herself she wasn't harmed, and then looked at Keegan, trying desperately to catch his eye.

She hadn't thought to tell Fiyero about the younger soldier. She hadn't known he was even out of the hospital. Now, as he looked back at her, his eyes moving between her and Fiyero and Elphaba, his face showing utter confusion and helplessness, she suddenly felt guilty for not checking in on him. She knew, of course, that he wasn't to be trusted, but she felt sorry for not including him in this. She felt sorry for everything she'd told him.

She'd begged him, in silence, to believe her. To help her. To be on their side. And he had given them the benefit of the doubt. At Fiyero's order, his rifle pushing into Glinda's back, the other guards had dropped their weapon. They'd all been trained to catch the Witch, but none of them was willing to be responsible for the death of Glinda the Good.

Keegan had hesitated, his eyes darting between all of them, lingering on the green woman, before coming to rest on Glinda. He'd dropped his rifle then, letting it slip from his fingers, without taking his eyes from hers.

Somehow, that was the last thing she remembered clearly. After that, everything had happened so fast, it refused to become more than a blur of images.

Fiyero had acted quickly, shoving Glinda into the guards standing there. She'd stumbled and they'd all rushed forward to help her. By the time she'd gotten to her feet, Fiyero and Elphaba had disappeared.

The Wizard had still been on the floor in front of the huge golden head. He'd given her a look of sympathy that was surprisingly real, and offered her a drink. She'd refused, distracted, and watched the soldiers pile out of the room. Keegan was the last to go, still looking at her. She knew, without a doubt, that he'd be waiting for her. She understood that his cooperation would not come without a price, but she was okay with that. She owed him some answers. She owed him much more than that. They all did.

Morrible had come prancing in then, expectantly awaiting good news. Anticipating a triumph, a cause for celebration. The long-awaited capture of the Wicked Witch. Glinda had followed in Keegan's footsteps then, unwilling to listen to the Wizard and Morrible any longer.

The Wizard had not known, apparently, that it was her who had created Elphaba's opportunity to escape. She didn't think he knew or he wouldn't have looked at her with such sympathy. But Morrible would know it was her. The game was up.

And now here she was, unable to care about the fact that she too would probably become an enemy of the Wizard now.

An enemy of the whole of Oz.

Here she was, on the edge of her bed, still in the same clothes, unable to think about anything but that bottle.

He hadn't spoken to her in hours.

He was angry, that much was obvious.

Of course, it had been clear from the way he'd said absolutely nothing even as he'd risked his life to ensure her safety.

He'd never been one to turn the other cheek, to straight up refuse to talk to her and she was surprised by how much it unnerved her. They'd made the flight on her broom in silence and returned to the castle, as always, through the bedroom window. She had wanted to say something to him then, find a way to apologize, difficult as she found that to be, but he'd left the room without looking at her.

She was angry about that, even if she could admit that wasn't completely fair. She'd meant to spare him harm, but mostly she'd meant to spare herself harm by keeping him out of danger's way. She was aware of that. She'd taken the choice away from him more for her own sake than for his. If he'd done the same to her, she would have been furious.

She had fought for patience and killed time by taking a shower, pacing the room and having a million imagined conversations with both him and Glinda. In the end, it took too long. Her patience, never her strong suit, ran out and she went in search of him.

She found him, after too long of wandering the castle, in his father's study; a room that wasn't used by anyone but the King. It told her very clearly that he hadn't wanted to be found. He sat in his father's leather desk chair, his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling. He looked up when she came in, but didn't say anything.

It occurred to her how rarely she was the first one to talk. It didn't come easy to her and he knew that. Most of the time, he was willing to take the first step. It was clear this time he wasn't going to.

"You're angry."

"A shrewd observation."

Sarcasm was never his style and it didn't suit him now.

"You promised me, Elphaba."

He lifted his tired eyes to hers and then looked back at his hands on the armrests.

"I knew, of course I knew, that it would come to this. I know you and I knew you'd have to go and do that. I knew that... But you promised me you'd wait, that you'd give me a moment. And I believed you. I went to bed believing that you'd wait, that you'd give me time. And I woke up to find that you never meant that."

"I couldn't risk you getting hurt."

"You made me a promise you knew you weren't going to keep."

She took a small step in his direction.

"Fiyero..."

He sat up, his eyes on hers, and put his hands on the desk with more force than she'd expected. She realized now she'd never seen him really angry. And certainly not at her.

"I meant every word I said to you, Elphaba and I would follow wherever you go, because I don't want to live without you. But if this is the way it's going to be..."

He shook his head, lost for words and lacking the motivation to find them.

"Did I miss the subtle hints?"

She'd been about to fight his words, but his words, directed at the desk more than at her, confused her. The conversation taking a turn she wasn't prepared for.

"What?"

He looked back up and the anger was undisguised. His fingers pressed into the wooden desk so hard his knuckles had turned white.

"Did I miss the hints and is this your way of telling me you don't want me here?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, because he didn't pause.

"Because this is the third time you've left me and I honestly don't know how often I can do this."

She shook her head, desperate to get a word in. To reassure him that, despite all her intentions, that had never been one.

"No...I...Fiyero..."

He wasn't listening. He wasn't willing to.

"How often I want to do this. So if this is your way of telling me that...then just tell me now."

His eyes bore into hers, expectantly.

"Right now. Because I know that you love, but wanting me...in your life, in your world...that's a different matter. Not for me, but for some people. For you. So if you don't want me there...just tell me. Tell me, and I promise I will do my best to let you go."

She truly didn't know what to say. She'd meant, she'd only meant, to keep him out of danger. To keep him from getting hurt because of her. She'd never meant to give him the idea that she didn't want him in her life. She'd never have thought he'd come to that conclusion. Wasn't it obvious, after everything, that he was the only person she'd ever desperately needed? The only person she'd give everything for.

He didn't see that. He was searching for answers, but searching in the wrong places, drawing conclusions that were so far from the truth, it would have been laughable, if it hadn't been so terrifying.

"Because...you know...I would follow you till the end of the world. But if you're not willing to let me...I knew, I know, that to be with you...it would take sacrifices. I'll happily make them, they're not sacrifices to me because what I get, to be with you, is more than worth it."

He looked at her again and this time, he saw her. And he wanted her to see him, too.

"You're the only thing I've ever really wanted."

The intensity of his eyes would not allow her to shy away from his words.

"But you need to give me something back. I don't need you to be the Queen of the Vinkus, I don't need you to give up who you are, but you've got to want me there, you've got to want to be with me...and if you don't...or if that's too much...then I promise you, Elphaba, I will let you go."

This was the moment then.

The choice was right in front of her. She could tell him, right now, that she couldn't do it. That she didn't want it.

That she didn't want him.

But now that it was before her, she knew that there wasn't a choice. If she left now, he wouldn't follow. He'd let her go. Even the thought of it made her want to throw up. Made her want to throw her arms around his neck and beg him not to leave. But she'd done this to him and he'd come to the conclusion that she had fooled herself into believing; that he was better off without her.

Now, seeing him like this, she reached a new conclusion; It wouldn't work.

If he loved her as much as she loved him, and he did, miraculously, it would never work. And if it didn't have a chance of working out, then it shouldn't be an option.

And if it wasn't an option, then she should let it go. Maybe it wasn't wise. Maybe it was brainless to think that the two of them could ever have a happy-ever-after. But she would settle for 'after'. For as long as she could. As long as he was hers.

She made her way around the desk till she stood in front of him. She hoisted her dress up and climbed into his lap, straddling him. Her hands trembled as they settled on his face.

"I love you."

His pressed his lips together and turned his head out of her hands.

"I know that."

She didn't let him move away, her fingers pressing into his skin a little harder, and forced his eyes back up to hers.

"Let me finish."

He hesitated a moment, then nodded once.

"I love you. And I'm sorry. You're right and I'm sorry."

He looked up into her dark eyes. He didn't want to fight her. He wanted to believe her. She didn't look away from him; her gaze held his and he could see she was serious.

She was scared. As guilty as that made him feel, it also brought relief. He'd been afraid, more afraid than he'd ever been, that she'd tell him to let her go.

That she'd tell him that, though she loved him, she needed her life to be hers alone. When she'd crawled into his lap, he still hadn't been sure of what was to come. It was her apology that convinced him, the tremble in her hands. Her voice breakable and pitched, the way it did when tears blocked the throat.

He could breathe again now. Now that he knew that, despite everything, they still had a chance.

Her hands still framed his face and his itched to touch her. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

She did it again and again, stopping only to look into his eyes in between kisses, until he couldn't hold himself back any longer. His arms, as if acting out of their own accord, found their way around her waist. Her body, too frail for a woman so strong, warm against his.

She deepened the kiss and let her hands run through his hair.

It wasn't soft or gentle anymore now, his arms tightening around her, pulling her body as close to his as he could, while her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

He pulled back, panting.

"Elphaba..."

"Hmm?"

She slid his shirt over his shoulders and kissed her way down his neck.

"Elphaba..."

"You talk too much."

He laughed at that, a throaty laugh that only seemed to encourage her.

"Elphaba..."

She pulled back with a frustrated smile and looked at him, the question clear.

"Is there any particular part of his you have objections to?"

"On the contrary. But that door doesn't lock."

She looked at the door and bit her lip. It made him want to throw caution in the wind, take the risk of his father walking in, and throw her onto the desk. He could tell she was thinking the same and that made the urge even stronger.

His fingers dug into her hips, even as he edged forward in the chair to get up. A few seconds longer and they'd end up on that desk, his one hand already working the buttons on her dress.

She sighed though, in acceptance of what he meant and smiled a wicked smile.

"Then I suggest we find one that does."

They'd made it into the hallway, where he had won the fight with too many buttons as he held her up against the wall, her dress sliding down her shoulders, and onto the stairwell, where she had forced him to his knees with kisses too deep, as she pulled at his waistband. He'd actually growled as he pulled away from her and dragged her up and into one of the spare bedrooms.

Now, two hours or days or decades later, they were more or less decently dressed and headed for the kitchens.

Elphaba fidgeted as she walked beside him, still not satisfied with their conversation in Liir's study, but not really willing to bring it back up either.

"Fiyero."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and stopped walking. He stopped too then, as she'd known he would, to look at her.

"I am sorry."

"I believe you."

She was unsure, and it must have showed on her face because he sighed deeply and stroked her hair, letting it run between his fingers.

"It's mostly hurt. Just hurt that you did what you did. You have no idea...I mean...Can't you imagine what I felt when Drakin woke me up to tell me you'd left?"

She could.

She had. She'd imagined him leaving, and her waking up to find him gone, knowing he'd left without telling her, to put himself in danger, knowing full well it might kill him. She'd imagined waking up to find him gone and never see him again. It had knocked the breath from her body.

He smiled at her, softly, with a trace of sadness in it.

"Don't worry. I can't stay angry with you for too long."

Relief came quickly, made her shoulders sag, but she knew she was let off far too easy. She stared at him in wonder. Would it ever cease to amaze her that this man, this man, loved her the way he did? Forgave her wrong-doings and chose her side always?

No, she knew. It would never stop being a miracle.

"I don't understand how you can love me the way you do."

The sadness in his smile made way for melancholy laced with true amusement.

"Neither do I. But it's unchangeable. A simple fact of life. Apples are apples. The skies are blue. Fiyero loves Elphaba."

She shook her head in amazement.

"A fact of life, huh?"

"Yeah. You know, and of me. Like, I hate avocados, I like dancing and I love you."

He put stress on the final word and touched a fingertip to her nose.

She wriggled her nose, which made him laugh and peeked up at him. They were okay now, or would be, and they resumed their walk but the air needed to be cleared a little, to put all this behind them. He always did that for her. She could do the same for him.

"You hate avocados?"

"Intensely."

"Why?"

"I don't get them."

She knew the incredulity showed as she stopped walking again.

"You don't get them? You don't get avocados?"

"Yeah. You know, what is it supposed to be? It's clear it wants to be a banana or a peach or something, but it didn't work out, and now it's just this weird gooey substance that no one can make sense of."

"They're very nutritious. Maybe that is their point."

"Yeah, I don't buy that either."

She merely stared at him again. He was utterly ridiculous, but so fascinating in his silliness.

"I think that someone, sometime ago, wanted to grow something and wanted it to be cute, like a peach, but it didn't happen and instead they got this green blob thing and they felt sorry for it, so they told everyone it was really healthy."

"Right."

He started moving again and she resumed her place beside him. He glanced to the side and smirked.

"I hope you know you can't go back on your words anymore. This is what you signed up for." His smirk turned into a grin, "For life."

She slid her hand into his without saying a word and that was answer enough.

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