5. You Are Safe

When Fiyero aimlessly roamed the upper deck the next night, a figure standing at the far end of the ship caught his attention. He couldn't see who it was – just that it was a woman, judging by the skirts; but he realised the person was leaning far over the railing, looking at the waves beneath… or was she really just looking? He squinted and moved towards the person, quickening his pace when he realised she was leaning further and further down.

"Hey!" he shouted, breaking into a run. "Don't!"

He heard a shriek and the person lost her balance, falling backwards onto the deck. It wasn't until he reached her that he saw the emerald green skin and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Elphaba," he breathed, falling down onto his knees next to her. She was lying on her back, blinking up at the sky. "Are you alright? What in Oz were you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said, pushing herself into a sitting position and glaring at him. "I was just looking at the dolphins I saw down there, until you came and scared me half to death. I nearly toppled over!"

He almost laughed with relief. "You weren't trying to jump?"

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "Of course not. I know Avaric can be a bit of a jerk and my life kind of sucks, but it's not that bad," she sniffed, smoothing out her skirts. She was wearing a dress in beige and chocolate brown, he noted – the same colour as her eyes. He looked at her until she looked up and met his gaze.

"What?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No."

She sighed and flopped down onto her back, gazing up at the starry night sky. He joined her, lying down next to her. He mustered up the courage to take her hand and when she didn't pull away, he laced his fingers through hers, resting their joined hands between them.

"Don't," she whispered, so softly he barely caught it. "You'll only complicate things."

He looked to the side. "What things?"

She heaved a long sigh that sounded as if she was bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Avaric doesn't like me talking to you," she said quietly. "Or to Galinda, for that matter. And I don't want to let him control me… but he's going to be my husband soon. If I go against him all the time, I think I'm only going to make things that much harder for myself."

"What do you want to do, then?" he demanded. "Just give up?"

"No," she snapped, pulling her hand from his and sitting up. She glared at him. "Of course not."

He sat up, too, and looked at her, raising one eyebrow. She sighed and deflated, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know what to do."

He didn't say anything. He wanted to say something comforting, or to give her advice, but he had no idea what he could possibly say that would be of any help to her and so he just kept quiet. He wanted to touch her, too, or hug her, but he was afraid she wouldn't let him.

She stayed silent as well, just sitting there and staring ahead of her, unmoving and not making a sound. He scooted closer to her and looked at her. Her eyes were shimmering faintly and her skin almost looked a normal colour in the scarce light of the moon. He reached out to trail his finger down the smooth-looking skin of her arm, but caught himself just in time, realising he was being a little creepy. He wanted to smack himself. What was happening to him? He wasn't supposed to be creepy. He was supposed to be smooth and charming, funny, and a tad arrogant. He was Prince Fiyero Tiggular, the man all women loved and all men wanted to be like.

"Run away." The words escaped his lips before he fully realised what he was saying.

She turned her head to look at him, a sceptical expression on her face. "Run away?" she echoed. "Where should I run to? I know it's a big ship, but it's not that big."

"Maybe not right away," he said. "Not while we're on the ship. But once we're in Gillikin…"

She shook her head. "Where do you want me to go?" she wanted to know. "I have no-one. Everyone I know I could go to would just send me straight back to either my father or Avaric. I have nowhere to go, Fiyero."

"You could come with me."

She didn't even reply to that. She just sighed and shook her head, a wry smile playing around her lips.

"Why not?" he asked. "You could stay with me. I wouldn't let Avaric find you, and –"

"Fiyero," she cut him off. "No. I mean, it's nice of you to offer, but no. I hardly even know you. You could be a rapist or a serial killer, for all I know."

His eyebrows shot up so high they almost disappeared into his hairline and she laughed. "Okay, you're probably not either of those, but… still. I've known for a long time that this was going to be my life and I accepted it, too. I'll just have to adjust a little, but I'll be perfectly fine, you know. I can take care of myself."

After a while, she rose to her feet again, brushing down her skirts and taking a deep breath. "Oz, I hate corsets," she muttered as she stretched her back and found the movement hampered by the tight corset she was wearing. She twisted a little in an attempt to loosen her stiff muscles and then shook her head. "Well… thank you for the talk," she said. "I'm just going to go back now."

"That's it?" He rose to his feet as well and stared at her intently, his gaze making her uncomfortable. "You're just going to go back?"

"I told you, Fiyero. I can take care of myself." She gently but firmly pushed him aside and brushed past him, clearly intending to return to her rooms.

A faint shadow caught his gaze then and he frowned. "What is that?"

"What is what?"

"That." He pointed at her face. Her hand instantly came up to lightly touch the coloured spot on her cheek with the pads of her fingers and he took a step closer to her. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there was clearly a mark on her cheek. "Is that…"

She abruptly turned, her skirts making a swishing sound as she did so. "Goodnight, Fiyero."

He caught her wrist, pulling her back to him. A small yelp escaped her lips and he then noticed the dark spots on her wrist as well. He sucked in his breath. "Did Avaric…"

"It's not important, Fiyero," she said impatiently, yanking her hand back, her eyes flaming, "and it's also none of your business."

"Does he do that often?" the prince demanded. She didn't want to answer him, he could tell. She tried to move away from him again, but he blocked her path. "Elphaba?"

She sighed irritably. "No. He's never done it before. I just… challenged him and he got mad. And then I slapped him," she added. "I deserved it. I let my temper get the better of me and he let his temper get the better of him. That's all. Now will you let me go?"

"No," he protested. "Elph-"

But she was already gone, having hurried off into the night, and he had no choice but to return to his own cabin and think of her again for the rest of the night, feeling powerless to do anything else.

Elphaba was sprawled on the couch, reading a book, when Avaric entered the room. She quickly sat up and assumed a more proper position, running her fingers through her hair self-consciously.

She kept her eyes on her book, hoping he would just go on with his own business, but she could feel his eyes on her. He took a step closer and then stopped again, as if he wasn't sure what he should do.

Then he said, "I'm sorry."

Her eyes flew up to his in surprise and he slowly approached her before stopping again.

"I lost my temper," he said, "and I apologise. You're right – I know you're trying your best and I do appreciate that. I should not have hurt you and perhaps I overreacted a little when it comes to Miss Galinda and Master Fiyero. I am sorry."

She looked at him for a few moments, wondering if he was being serious, but she saw no proof of the contrary in his face or his eyes.

"I'm sorry, too," she said finally. "I shouldn't have slapped you, but my father probably already told you that my temper is pretty bad as well."

Avaric's lips twitched in a small smile. "Alright." He reached into the pocket of his coat and retrieved a small box from it. "I have something for you. Consider it a peace offering."

She put her book away and rose to her feet, curious as to what he might have gotten her. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver hair clasp, laid in with small gemstones in the exact same shade of green as her skin – she suspected them to be real emeralds.

She gasped softly and he smiled, taking it out of the box so that she could see it better. "Do you like it? It cost me a small fortune, but I reasoned that an apology for losing one's temper with a lady should be accompanied by something meaningful."

"I love it," she said, and she meant it, too. She had never been one for jewellery and pretty things, but this hair clasp truly was beautiful. "Thank you."

His smile widened. He gently turned her around and gathered up her hair, twisting it and securing it with the hair clasp.

"It was made for you," he said, planting a kiss at the base of her now-exposed neck. She jumped a little, but forced herself to smile as well as she turned back to him.

"Your father talked to me," said Avaric, "and Nessarose did, too. They convinced me of the fact that Miss Galinda and Master Fiyero really are not such bad people for you to socialise with and that you really enjoy their company…"

"I do," Elphaba admitted.

He nodded. "Of course you are free to keep seeing them," he said. "I was angry yesterday and maybe I was being unfair. I do believe you respect me as your soon-to-be husband, Elphaba, and I trust that you would not do anything that might embarrass me."

"Of course not," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Good." He reached out to lightly touch the hair clasp now holding her raven tresses up. "It really does suit you," he commented, before moving his fingers to touch her cheek instead, pulling her in to kiss her. She let him, afraid that if she did anything to anger him now, he would take back everything he just told her.

He left the room after that to play cards with some of the other men and she moved across the room, staring at her own mirror image. Twisting her head in order to be able to see the hair clasp, she had to admit that it did look gorgeous. She wondered what had brought about this change in him. Had he really just realised how unreasonably he had been behaving? Had her father or Nessa convinced him of that fact?

No matter what the reason for his behaviour was, though, she was glad to see it. This whole marriage thing would be so much easier for them both if they managed to get along with one another, and she felt optimistic now that maybe they could make this work after all.