Happy Festivus, everyone! I apologize for keeping you waiting. I finally gave up on wanting it to be perfect and waiting 'til I had the time to obsess properly over it and decided to give you all a present to stick under your aluminum poles. Seinfeld joke aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!

Fiyero was getting a bit stir-crazy. He wasn't the only one suffering from this kind of crazy at the moment, and there were certainly a bunch of other crazies being expressed in the room that he wasn't sure how to identify, but he was sure he was the only one getting really bored with it all.

In the first few tense minutes following Glinda's abrupt exit, Fiyero grabbed the bowl of fruit that had originally been meant for Elphaba's breakfast and brought it over to the coffee table in case munching on grapes would be enough to distract everyone from the inevitable impending blow-up. Dorothy had timidly taken a seat on one of the plush sofas but Highmuster, Larena and Elphaba were all too wound up to leave their feet. Something about his short trip around the living area to retrieve the fruit bowl reminded Highmuster of his hate for the prince and before long Fiyero was getting hollered at for his infidelity, which prompted Larena to do the same to Elphaba. Since no one cared to hear Fiyero's side of things, he simply sat down next to Dorothy and accepted the stream of inappropriate Gillikese swears and curses. Then somehow, before long, it was Highmuster and Elphaba who were yelling at one another…about politics.

And that's when Fiyero's attention began to divert, as years in school had trained it to do. He knew the situation began with Highmuster once again reproaching Elphaba for her criticism and opposition of the Wizard (Fiyero wished someone did care to ask his opinion for once, for he would have told Highmuster what a stupid idea that was), who had given his daughter so much. As expected, Elphaba responded compulsively and before Fiyero knew it he had stopped listening.

He grabbed an apple and bit in, wishing with all his might that the tart fruit's crunchiness would be enough to drown out the shouting match taking place feet in front of him. It wasn't. Curious as to how Dorothy was handling all of the drama, he glanced at her only to notice that in the last couple of minutes she somehow managed to slide down the cushions until she was seated right next to the prince, her big brown eyes and her pink cheeks aimed right up at him.

Any other man might have squirmed from discomfort at the intensity of her attention, but he smiled reflexively. "So Dorothy…that's a strange name."

"Not in Kansas," she responded eagerly, evidently glad he was speaking with her again. "You see, our president's name is Theodore, which my teacher says means 'Gift of God'—"

"'President?'"

"The leader of our nation," she said. "Like our king! Well anyway, Dorothy is sort of a backward Theodore. The-o-dore, Dor-o-thy…get it? Well my teacher didn't think so he looked it up and it means 'Goddess of Gifts'…"

Elphaba would have found all of this stuff interesting, Fiyero considered distractedly, his eyes finding the subject of his thoughts. Even though she was angrier than a spitting Cat as she argued with the hulking man in front of her, she looked so beautiful with her eyes alight and color flushing her newly fair skin. Even when her voice became rough with emotion it was like music in his ears. He remembered when they were in the forest all that time ago and she just wouldn't be quiet how he kept thinking to himself how lovely she was, even with her rambling…

"Are you and Fae gonna get married?"

"Huh?" he asked, turning back to a slightly dejected-looking Dorothy. "Married? Us? No! Yes? I don't know..."

"Once again you can't seem to make up your mind."

Fiyero chuckled self-depreciatingly and nodded. "You're quite right. It's just…" He sighed and ran a hand through his soft hair, unsure if he should even say what was troubling him. The girl scooted even closer to him and put a hand on his arm, urging him to continue. After a second's hesitation he gave in, needing to talk about it with someone – anyone – since he obviously couldn't with Elphaba or Glinda. "I want to be with her, I do! It's like whenever I'm around her everything's exactly how it should be and I'm right where supposed to be. I just don't know what she wants anymore. First she tells me she's in love with me and is begging me not to leave her, then before I know it she's pushing me away like she can't stand me to be near. I know she's going through this identity crisis but what if she comes out of it and realizes she doesn't love me? I don't know what I'd do."

He looked down at his confidant and experienced a jolt of embarrassment, for it occurred to him that he had just confessed all of his internal turmoil to someone who was barely a teenager and had a growing crush on him. She patted his arm consolingly, and as carefully as he could he pulled it from her hands and sat back into the cushions, tossing the apple aside with disinterest and watching Elphaba forlornly as she continued to quarrel with the beastly Gillikinese man.

He wondered if he should jump in and defend her or break up the fight or something like that, but he knew he'd risk getting roped into the fight again or having Elphaba be even angrier at him and he had no way of productively dealing with either outcome. So he just watched warily. At the moment, it just seemed like two drunken men pushing on each other: no harm was truly being done. …Or so he hoped.

"Even that girl's dog can communicate!" Highmuster was saying. "It barks and yaps and understands human words! That doesn't mean it should get a seat at the dinner table!"

"It is not simply Animals' ability to speak that grants them superiority that is equal to humans!" Elphaba retorted while Highmuster scoffed rudely. "It's their comprehension and integration of culture! Don't you see? You can teach an animal basic communication but it can't pass it on to subsequent generations, nor can it engage in a debate with it such as this! Culture utilizes language and ideas that simple animals cannot comprehend, while Animals use them richly!"

"Then explain how an Animal can lose the ability to speak or think as the Wizard has proved with his Banns, if you're so smart!"

"Humans are no different! I'd like to see you suffer from isolation and discrimination for as long as they have and see how you fair in society!"

"I wish it had such an impact upon you!" Highmuster responded cruelly.

Fiyero was glad he decided to pay attention when he did because the look that filled Elphaba's face at that was murderous. He leapt to his feet just in time to grab her around the middle and restrain her from attacking him. Well, physically, at least.

"You're a close-minded, egocentric ignoramus and it's because of people like you that I speak out for those who can't or won't!" she shouted, jabbing her finger right at the man as if she could stab him with it. Fiyero could feel the heat of her body and the strength of her muscles through her thin dress as she struggled against him, and for fear she would wiggle free he pulled her tighter against him. She responded by jutting an elbow into his sore torso and roughly shoving him away, her fierce gaze now locked on him. "And it is because of you that I can't! Ugh!"

She threw her hands in the air and spun away, and Fiyero was so stunned by her words that he paid no heed to the pain her bony elbow had caused him as she began to pace. "What? How could you say that?"

"'Ignoramus'? I am a Shiz-educated man!"

"Before I cast that spell I was a symbol!" Elphaba said to Fiyero. "I gave those Animals hope and now they don't even recognize me! They think I'm dead! Now what hope do they have left?"

"Elphaba, think about what you're saying," he begged.

"And you!" Highmuster continued, clearly oblivious to the other growing dispute in front of him. "You didn't even finish school! How dare you call us ignorami!"

Elphaba's fists were clenched as she growled, "It's ignoramuses, idiot!"

"What is going on in here?" Glinda's voice asked from the doorway, and they all ceased their bickering long enough to stare in stunned silence at the front door, unaware that the Good Witch had managed to sneak through it. But then, as quickly as it stopped it resumed; Glinda's parents and Elphaba all began to point fingers and complain about each other to her rapidly, creating a din that didn't process in Fiyero's mind.

Part of him was grateful that Glinda had finally returned to manage everything, for suddenly he felt absolutely worthless. Elphaba's words to him kept repeating in his head and no matter what he did he could not get any other meaning from them besides absolute resentment. She regretted saving him, for in that moment choosing him meant that she gave up on everything else she believed in. He thought about how he had given up years of his life so he could find her and how he had literally given up everything he had for her once he did; all the while, she had been out trying to stand up for something greater than herself or him. She never asked him for anything, yet he ended up taking everything she had.

Just before she passed out last night she expressed her love for him, but since then she had been displaying these other emotions that he hadn't recognized before now: bitterness and shame, for her brief romantic fling with him had blinded her to the world she loved and now it was too late. He contemplated whether her affection last night was the last lingering sentiments she experienced in a delusional stupor, or if the passion in her gaze when she awoke was a spark of some insanity he brought about by his thoughtless sacrifice.

"Shhhhh!" Glinda shushed them abruptly, her petite hands flying up from her sides. Fiyero pulled himself from the miserable muck that had become his mind and looked at her sullenly, not really expecting the young socialite to look so crazed. He frowned even more. Something obviously had her shaken and it was willing to bank it wasn't just this situation. "I don't want to hear it anymore! The Wizard is gone!"

The room became quiet once more at her outburst but this time it wasn't temporary; he could see the color drain from Elphaba's face as she muttered a barely audible "What…?"

Fiyero's brows remained furrowed, confident he had misunderstood. The Wizard was gone? Was he kidnapped? Had he magically vanished as Elphaba had done to herself earlier? Or did she mean…

"He's chosen to leave Oz for good, Morrible has been imprisoned, and I'm in line to inherit Oz! So let me make it clear that whatever it is you're fighting about is not more important than this!" As she spoke, her voice had become increasingly hysterical and by the time she was finished it was so high-pitched that the dog in Dorothy's lap whimpered. She put her hands against the blush rising in her cheeks and took a steadying breath. "And Popsie, you know better than to discuss religion or politics amidst company! Ohh, what am I going to do…?"

"What happened?"

Elphaba's question was one Fiyero wanted to know himself. With each long second that passed following Glinda's announcement, the weight of it sunk in more heavily and questions compounded in his mind: What could make the greedy Wizard up and leave so quickly? How could Morrible be arrested? With His Ozness gone and his right-hand witch thrown in jail, what did that mean for them? Did Glinda know when she went down there such a short time ago that she'd come up with the power to control Oz?

"It doesn't matter," she answered hastily. She flapped her hands to fan herself before she used one of them to point at Elphaba reproachfully. "And you promised me you wouldn't ask!"

"No I didn't," Elphaba impatiently reminded her. "Tell me, Glinda!"

Glinda acted like she hadn't heard her as she continued to compose herself. After about her fourth heavy breath she met Elphaba's gaze unwaveringly with an intensity he rarely had ever seen before from her. "Elphie, I know you think you need to leave, but I want you to stay and help me."

Glinda's request seemed to hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air right out of her. To the Uplands, they acted more like it had been a slap to the face. Fiyero didn't know how he felt as the Good Witch stepped forward and took Elphaba's hands in her own. "I...I don't need you to stay; I want you to know that. But imagine what we could do together. Together, we're unlimited!"

Fiyero could tell that the words Glinda used were not arbitrary, for they were said with a heavy weight and caused Elphaba's features to harden solemnly. Fiyero couldn't deliberate more on their subtext as he was still reeling from the onslaught of news. He couldn't decide: Was Glinda's request lunacy or genius? Or maybe a whole lot of both?

Apparently Larena was partly on the same page as him. "Galinda, darling, have you misplaced your mind?" She waved cursorily at Elphaba as she critically added, "You're asking the Wicked Witch to help you rule Oz?"

"If it wasn't for Elphaba I wouldn't be here!" Glinda said, letting go of Elphaba's hands – which immediately wrapped insecurely around her thin torso – so she could gesture emphatically upon facing her mother. "I owe her everything!"

"I wouldn't be here either," Dorothy piped up. Fiyero peered over his shoulder, taken aback by unexpected gratitude from the strange girl. Judging by how her eyes flashed around the room, Fiyero guessed all three Uplands were gaping at her too. She explained earnestly, "She saved my life!"

He turned back to look at Elphaba. For whatever reason she did the same, and as they stared at one another Fiyero didn't care that she was sorry she gave up her life for his. He would always be grateful to her, for everything they had together, and she had to know that.

"And she saved mine."

Elphaba's lip trembled and her brows curled down over her striking eyes. But other than a heavy sniffle, she remained distant. Her focus shifted away from him and she shook her head as if to rid herself of whatever thoughts he created in her. "You don't want me, Glinda. I'm nobody."

"Elphie, don't be silly! You're the Eminent Thropp!"

Elphaba sighed. "That was Nessa's job."

"It was always your birthright," Glinda said flatly. "Now that your sister is dead it is once again your responsibility to lead."

"I'm not suited to govern anyone, not even myself, it seems." Elphaba's long fingers came to rub her eyes and Fiyero guessed there was a growing pain behind them, judging by the tension under the skin near her healing scar. When she pulled them away, her expression was sharp and cynical and directed at Glinda. "So what do you expect me to do? Fly on over there and announce I'm finally ready to inherit Colwen Grounds?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what do you expect? I'm limited! Just look at me— I'm limited!" She motioned to herself, a vertical wave of her hand to indicate her whole being, before she gestured to Glinda in her immaculate dress and makeup— a picture of perfection. "And just look at you, you can do all I couldn't do."

"That's not true. Things can be different! We can finally make them the way we want them to be. Oz will look to me to lead it but you can be my advisor— my 'Grand Vizier', like the Wizard wanted you to be for himself. I'll give you a new name and we can finally make our lives together like we thought we would! We'll cut your hair, change your wardrobe – that's a given – work on your mannerisms, whatever it takes. No one will know!"

"Glinda…"

She didn't give Elphaba another chance to protest. She turned to her parents, her pleading eyes not those of a child like she normally used in their presence but that of a woman. "Momsie…I had hoped you might let her use the good name Arduenna."

"You must be joking," Larena said, a short laugh escaping her. When Glinda's expression did not change, the woman's face fell with discomfort.

Glinda stepped forward and took her mother's bejeweled hands into her own. "You used to say, 'People come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn, and we are lead to those who help us most to grow if we let them and we help them in return.' Well, I don't know if I believe that's true, but I know I'm who I am today because of her."

Fiyero watched as Larena softened at this and he was reminded exactly why Glinda was given the title of Good Witch of the North. She had an incredible skill for influence that not only affected large populations but also even the closest of individuals, and he could see her power at work over the older woman. Her mother squeezed her daughter's fingers affectionately, proudly, but Fiyero knew Glinda had yet to let out the breath she was holding, not daring to assume it had worked yet.

"Well, none of us ever found out what happened to my brother after he went on that mission to Ix after college," Larena began thoughtfully. "Hypothetically…she could be his child, as far as anyone would know, which would make her an Arduenna..."

Glinda squealed a little, jumping a little in place as her mother began to sway her way. Larena's gaze once more scanned over Elphaba, who looked like a spooked cat at the strange attention. "And she does have the height of a Gilikinese... Of course, she couldn't go out in public looking like that, not if she would be my kin…"

His pulse was racing as Glinda's mother's objections faded into assistance, knowing that without this last obstacle that was the Uplands Elphaba could finally have a chance to live a proper life. With Elphaba witness to how Glinda was able to convince others of her value, no doubt she would realize that Glinda's outrageous idea might just work.

Looking at her, despite the underlying feelings of dejection she had instilled in him, he started to envision a life here together here in the Emerald City, with Elphaba in the role she was meant for: of her inspiring the political leaders across Oz with her passion, intelligence, and fierce love for Oz; of kids and small Animals playing fearlessly together near their feet while she and he held hands at his favorite café, sipping spiced hot beverages and discussing the mundane; of Elphaba at his side when he takes up his mantle in the Vinkus in due course, supporting him as a leader as he had supported her; of children of their own; of growing old together.

As of this moment, it all seemed obtainable. They could have that life together if only Elphaba said yes.

"Larena, be reasonable!" Highmuster interjected, stressed. Fiyero glowered, knowing that with his wife's support and Glinda's polished pout Highmuster would end up giving in, but hating that the man was still fighting this inevitability."You can't honestly be considering this?"

"Darling, I don't like this girl or this plan any more than you do," Larena pacified. "But she's obviously important to Galinda—"

"This Witch is important to her fiancé too, or have you forgotten that?"

"Fiyero broke things off with me before he left with Elphaba," Glinda responded miserably. Seeing her like that made Fiyero feel like Glikkun dung, especially because it was in front of her parents, whom she had always tried to please. Out of the corner of his eye, Elphaba was focused intently on the carpet fibers at their feet. "We are no longer together, but it is my choice that he is here with me now. We are going to work on our relationship as long as he and Elphaba are in my life and I won't have you sticking your nose into that matter anymore. I want them here."

"Galinda, think about what you're asking of your mother. Of me! To have us lie for you like this!"

"Listen to your father Glinda," Elphaba said, her voice low. As soon as she started to speak, Fiyero could see Glinda's father ready to rage at her, but her support clearly shocked him wordless. It shocked Fiyero too, if only because there wasn't even the slightest hint of the fight that he had always associated with her. "I've put you all through enough. I won't let you risk yourself or your family any more than I already have. I shouldn't even be here."

"Elphie, of course you should. This is your home."

Whether she meant the space in which they stood, which Glinda had painstakingly decorated with her best friend in mind, or herself and Fiyero, who were now Elphaba's only loved ones, he didn't know. But he could see she was fighting a losing battle, especially as Elphaba – her skin so ashen she looked ill – began faltering backwards towards the closet Glinda had used earlier.

"No, Glinda. No more dreams of grandeur. It's too late."

"Elphie—"

But she had already grabbed her broom from the closet and was making for the open window.

The prince often acted thoughtlessly and now was no different: he pushed past Highmuster and ran around to thwart her escape once more. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him.

She avoided his eyes, instead looking behind him at their audience. "Get out of my way Fiyero."

He should have been pushing her away, indignant because of her rejection, but instead he risked a step closer to her. He loosened his hand around her upper arm until it was but a gentle touch. She wasn't fighting him this time but even if she did he didn't want to hurt her. Well, anymore than he already had, anyway.

His eyes searched hers, trying to find answers to questions he didn't know how to pose in present company. How was it that she couldn't see all the things he saw for them? How could she see flying houses from across Oz but not see all the good that still existed for her?

"Why are you leaving?" he asked. "You should be happy right now. Everything you've been fighting for years is gone."

She had finally looked up at him and there was almost nothing but black in her eyes. He could see no fear in them, no anger, no passion and no love. They just seemed empty.

"No, Fiyero," she murmured. "Not everything."

Fiyero didn't understand what she meant and because of that he felt so oblivious. Only yesterday he thought everything was so clear, even in the disarray of the world, but now it was like he had been looking at everything wrong all along—that Elphaba, in all of her skepticism, really had the lucid picture of everything and it was only because of some lingering affection that she resisted bursting their ideals. But she had snapped earlier, her façade had broken, and she gave him a hint of the reality he had been too blind to see: that he was an idiot to give up everything for love.

It didn't matter. He wasn't about to let her go without giving all he had one last time. "I'm going with you."

He expected her to get angry at that, to push him away again or berate him for his stupidity, but instead she just sobbed slightly, her dilated eyes glistening as they moved between his own. It made him think for a second that maybe, somehow, he had gotten through to her; that either she would stay with them or she would take his hand and they would leave together, all while loving him wholly like he knew she did. There was hope. Maybe he wasn't a fool after all.

She reached out to touch his chest; his breath caught in anticipation. But then she stopped herself and with a pained expression stepped away.

"No," she whispered. "Not this time. Goodbye, Fiyero."

Two strides later she was off the window ledge and her broom carried her quickly up and away. Fiyero, still dazed, ran to the sill and clung to it, craning his neck around and scanning the sky, but he was too late. She was already gone.

He was too stupefied at that moment to comprehend the implication of that one word. Hell, hours later when he would be lying in bed, struggling to sleep, the way she said "goodbye" would continue to roll around in his head like a haunting lullaby. He would surmise that was the last goodbye she ever meant to say but he would never know for certain. He didn't get a chance to know her well enough to be sure what that tone, what her eyes, what her beautiful face was expressing at that pivotal moment. It would leave him with a terrible and confusing dichotomy of slight, sickening hope and nearly absolute hopelessness. He had spent years hunting her with a similar emotional struggle but this was worse—now he not only had the experience of being unable to find her unless she chose to be found but also the guilt-causing truth that she had nothing left to cause her to expose herself anymore.

The tears clinging to her eyes and way her body moved as it turned away from him would be the last memory he would have of her and he could never accept that.

"Elphaba!" he shouted, his voice lost in the endless air above Oz. He slammed his fists against the ledge and his teeth grinded together as he resisted the urge to cry out in utter distress. He turned his panicked blue eyes to Glinda, whose stillness and simple sadness upset him further. "Follow her! Get her back!"

"Have you seen my bubble move?" Glinda retorted. "What makes you think I could catch her?"

"Where is she going?"

Glinda held up her hands exasperatedly; she knew no more than he did. He growled in frustration – at himself, mostly, that he hadn't stopped her when he had the chance – and ran a hand through his hair.

"What happened with the Wizard, Glinda?" Glinda obviously had information that she used as leverage over the Wizard and whatever it was she was refusing to tell the woman she was asking to be his replacement. His voice was stern as he demanded to know, "What did you do to him? What do you know?"

Her eyes suddenly began welling up and her lip trembled, making him wonder if he had frightened her. But then much to his surprise and dismay she walked forward into his arms. Her silent sobs were shaking her body and he knew this crying fit wasn't one she was putting on for show. Highmuster and Larena watched uselessly –annoyance, anger, sympathy and uncertainty flawing their expressions –as their daughter cried in the welcoming arms of the man who dumped her.

What a complicated family we make, thought Fiyero as he released a frustrated breath and tried to calm himself. He rested his chin against her bejeweled head and rubbed her back soothingly.

"It's okay," he consoled. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't even know if I should utter it aloud," Glinda mumbled into his shoulder. She pulled away, trepidation filling the entirety of her appearance as she told him, "Elphaba can never know."

Fiyero's throat became tight. He didn't want to tell her that it probably wouldn't matter, that she probably was never going to return to hear whatever it was she had to say. It was if saying it or even thinking it might make it true and the pain was still too raw for him to deal with that yet. "Know what?"

"That the Wizard…" Glinda started. She took a miniscule, timid glance over her shoulder to her parents and to young Dorothy – whose last chance of escaping this world went out the window quite literally, poor kid – before she sucked in an unsteady breath and told him miserably, "The Wizard…is her father."

Fiyero was frozen for a moment, but once her words repeated in his head a few times and he comprehended their heaviness, he felt himself go slack. His hands fell off of Glinda's petite shoulders and he stumbled backward. Glinda just nodded, her lip trembling as she resisted the urge to burst out crying. Admittedly, he felt like crying himself as a rage unlike anything he had felt before filled him. Elphaba had just vanished again, scared of a world full of beauty and life she couldn't comprehend anymore because of someone who, as Glinda claimed, was her father. It was too much to accept.

"Madame Morrible said it was why she was so powerful, because he and her mother weren't from the same world." Glinda's voice became thick. "He's her popsie and he's hurt her so bad! I was so mad that I told him to leave Oz. Fiyero, Elphie can never know! It would kill her if she ever found out." She turned in place and stared at the other inhabitants of the room, pleading with them with everything she had: "No one can ever know."

For the first time since their arrival, the neither of the Uplands had anything to say. Everything they knew about the real Elphaba they learned from this room and it painted a confusing, complicated picture: She was hated by strangers but loved in secret. She put her total trust in their daughter though she acted defensive against everyone else. She passionately hated a man without even knowing she was his— that he had once abandoned her family after creating the gawky, mal-colored being that would never fit in. If Elphaba had known such a fact, her disapproval would be simpler and seemingly petty, but she was apparently ignorant of it. Did they realize the significance of that?

Perhaps, Fiyero thought sadly, they were finally realizing that Elphaba wasn't evil so much as troubled. Fiyero wondered if her sacrifice – the way she left them all so no one else would suffer for her – was the reason Highmuster stopped fighting so forcefully. To Fiyero, that trade-off wasn't worth it.