AN: Sorry guys, we cannot throw Avaric overboard just yet... still, I think you'll like this chapter, since so many of you were looking forward to Fiyero and Elphaba meeting one another :).

3. When Yero Met Fae

"Excuse me. Sir?" one of the men guarding the door called at him. "May I see your ticket, please?"

"My ticket?" Fiyero pretended to be indignant. "Are you doubting that I am actually travelling first class? Do you even know who I am?"

The man looked at him closely until he declared, "I am Crown Prince Fiyero Tiggular of the Vinkus."

The man's eyes widened and he bowed. "My apologies, Your Highness. I had not recognised you." He gestured for Fiyero to enter the room and the prince nodded in reply, brushing past the two men and into the ballroom that lay beyond. He grinned to himself. Playing the prince card always worked. It didn't matter his parents had put him in the second class, as long as he could still enjoy some first-class entertainment.

Once inside, he looked around him at all the ladies and gentlemen sitting and standing around in the room, sipping drinks and talking to one another. Some couples were dancing. Fiyero went to get a drink at the bar and studied the people here more closely as he slowly emptied his glass.

He loved parties, but he hated parties like these. The topics discussed were usually boring, the clothes he had to wear were uncomfortable, and everyone was stiff and no fun at all to be around. Still, it was better than sitting around in his room, sulking. He needed a certain amount of luxury every few days or he was sure he would go crazy. And besides – he could get free alcohol here at the bar.

A perky blonde dressed in violet caught his eye as she tried to drag another girl onto the dance floor with her, but the other girl was flat-out refusing to budge. Since the blonde was quite a bit smaller than her friend, it made quite the comical sight and Fiyero grinned. She was pretty, that blonde. Maybe she would be in for a dance or two – dancing was, after all, the only thing really fun about these balls.

Then, however, his gaze drifted over to the other girl and his eyes widened.

She had waist-long, ebony hair that fell in curls down her back, half-pinned up with a hair clasp. She was wearing a deep red dress, the colour of blood, with a full skirt and a tight bodice that made her already tiny waist look even tinier (he suspected she, as so many other ladies present here, was wearing a corset). Her cheeks were a bit flushed as she tried to pull out of her blonde friend's grasp, knowing they were attracting attention. The most striking thing about her, though, was the emerald green colour of her skin. Fiyero was fascinated by it.

He watched the two girls for a while. The blonde eventually gave up and allowed herself to be swept off to the dance floor by a man, while the green-skinned girl hurried as far away from the dance floor as possible. She sat down on a chair next to a girl in a wheelchair and they talked for a long while before the raven-haired girl rose to her feet again and moved over to a man with dark brown hair that was standing in a circle with five or six other men, all of them smoking cigars and drinking whiskey as they discussed one thing or another.

The dark-haired beauty tugged at the man's arm and said something to him. He shook her off with an impatient jerk of his arm, scowling as he said something to her. She put her hands on her hips and retorted with a remark of her own, but the man shooed her away and she turned around, stomping back to her seat next to the girl in the wheelchair.

He wondered who the man was and what her relationship was with him. What had they been talking about? He didn't seem to be very friendly towards her.

He wondered about the girl in the wheelchair, too, and about the blonde. Friends? Family members? Or just random girls that had decided to stick together for the night because they didn't have anyone else to socialise with?

Just then, the girl with the emerald skin looked up and their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat.

For some reason, he felt like he had to talk to her.

He left his empty glass on the bar and made his way over to her, never taking her eyes off her. She was talking to the girl in the wheelchair again, but she was also still looking at him from the corners of her eyes, watching him as he approached her. When he finally stood in front of her, he cleared his throat.

"Hello," he said.

"Good evening," the girl in the wheelchair replied with a polite smile. The green girl just stared up at him.

"I saw you from across the room," he said, "and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you are."

He mentally kicked himself. Smooth, Tiggular. Since when had he become a nervous schoolboy again?

The girl in the wheelchair lit up, but the other girl just scoffed, which confused him. Didn't she believe him?

"I, um…" He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to compose himself. "I was just wondering if… if you'd maybe like to, um… dance with me?"

The raven-haired girl's eyes widened to the size of saucers, but the girl in the wheelchair just looked at her encouragingly.

"Go, Fabala," she said. "You might end up having some fun."

"I don't even know him!" the emerald girl – Fabala? Was that her name? – protested, but the other girl would have none of it.

"Go," she urged. "When was the last time you did something spontaneous?"

The green girl glared at her, but rose to her feet with a sigh, consenting. "Fine, then."

Fiyero grinned widely at her and led her to the dance floor, leading her into a waltz.

"So… Fabala?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Is that your name?"

"No, no," she hastened to say, shaking her head. "My name is Elphaba. Fabala is a nickname my parents had for me when I was younger, and my sister still calls me that. The girl in the wheelchair," she clarified for his sake. "She's my younger sister, Nessarose."

"Elphaba…" He tried the sound of it out on his tongue. "I like it. It suits you."

"What?" she said with a small laugh. "It sounds green to you?"

He frowned. "No. It sounds beautiful," he corrected her, causing a dark red blush to creep up into her cheeks. "What? Do you think the green is all people see when they look at you?"

"It is all mostpeople see when they look at me," she countered.

He shook his head and dipped her, then gently pulled her up against him again – just a little closer than before. "Then most people are blind, ignorant, and stupid."

"Are you saying you think yourself superior to most people?"

"Of course," he declared. "I am the prince of the Vinkus, after all."

She snorted softly. "Social status doesn't mean anything," she said.

"On the contrary," he corrected her. "It means everything." He nodded at the people surrounding them. "To them, anyway."

"Didn't you just say they were blind, ignorant, and stupid?"

He laughed. "Touché." He twirled her and looked down into her eyes. They were a rich, chocolate brown colour and they reflected the bright lights around them.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked, taken aback. "Doing what?"

"Why did you ask me to dance with you?"

He shrugged. "Honestly? I saw you from across the room and I…" He faltered. He wasn't even sure what he had felt or thought when he had laid eyes on her. "I just… I don't know. You intrigued me."

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "I intrigued you?"

"Yeah." He shrugged again. "You were just… different. The way you were sitting there, watching everyone… something about your demeanour, I guess. Added, of course, to the fact that you look gorgeous."

He could tell she was startled by that. "What?"

"Don't deny it," he chided her before she could say anything else. "My guess is that you're one of the prettiest girls on this ship when you look your worst, but in that dress? Every man present here has been staring at you all night."

She scoffed softly.

"Okay, not every man," he conceded, recognising he wasn't going to win this fight. "But I certainly have."

She blushed now and he grinned at her. "Now your cheeks match your dress."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Shut up."

He laughed and spun her again.

The song ended and she curtseyed, as was the custom; but before she could move away, Fiyero's fingers closed around her wrist.

"Don't go yet," he said almost pleadingly.

She glanced at something over his shoulder and then looked into his eyes before nodding.

"Okay," she said. "I might as well keep dancing with you – it's better than just sitting there and being bored out of my mind."

He grinned again and swept her back into his arms, guiding her across the dance floor. They danced in silence for a while before he spoke again.

"So the girl in the wheelchair is your younger sister," he said, repeating the information she had given him.

She nodded.

"I'm guessing the bald man fussing over her all the time is your father?"

She smiled a little. There were tiny dimples in her cheeks when she did that. "Yes. He is very protective of Nessa," she explained. "She's the apple of his eye."

He nodded, not really wanting to talk about Nessarose. "Who was the blonde girl you were with before?"

"Galinda Upland," she replied, "of the Upper Uplands. I met her at dinner yesterday. She is one of the handful of people I have met on this ship so far that I actually like."

He chuckled. "I can imagine that. Especially when you're forced to be up here all the time, with all those stuck-up aristocrats."

She grinned at him. "Exactly."

He led her through a complicated move in the dance before pulling her back into his arms. "What about the man you were talking to before I approached you?"

He could feel her tense a little in his arms, but her facial expression did not betray anything. Neither did her voice as she said, "Avaric Tenmeadows."

Fiyero cocked his head a little, mulling the name over in his head. "Tenmeadows… that sounds familiar. Is he from Gillikin?" Then it clicked. "Wait. The margrave's son?"

"The margrave," Elphaba corrected him. "His father passed away a couple of months ago. Avaric is the margrave of Tenmeadows now and he knows it, too. He is one of those stuck-up aristocrats I so loathe," she said with a small laugh, but he could tell that her heart was not in it. She was still smiling, but her eyes were sad as she added, "He also happens to be my fiancé."

Fiyero actually winced at that. "Your fiancé?"

She nodded, sighing. "Unfortunately." She looked over his shoulder, but she didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. She merely seemed lost in thought for a few moments before she said softly, "My father thought it would be a good match."

Fiyero thought about his own parents and realised he could very well end up in the same position as Elphaba one day if he continued his behaviour and refused to settle down. He was lucky his parents hadn't married him off ages ago already.

"My father is the governor of Munchkinland," she said. "I'm his eldest daughter, but I won't be taking over as governor when I get older – Nessa will. Father… didn't think Munchkinland would accept a green governor." She huffed a wry laugh. "Neither do I, to be completely honest with you. Munchkins are so small-minded."

Fiyero gently squeezed her waist in a show of comfort, and she smiled a dimpled smile at him.

"So he decided to marry me off instead," she finished, "to a man of good status. He did take into account some of my wishes. I could have ended up with a sixty-year-old drunk, or something." She laughed, but he did not laugh with her.

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

"Oh, stop it." She shook her head. "I'll be fine."

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