Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano,
Trying hard to capture the moment this morning, I don't know,
'Cause a bottle of vodka is still lodged in my head,
And some blond gave me nightmares, think that she's still in my bed,
And the truth is, you're all that I need.

With an ironclad fist I wake up and French kiss the morning,
While some marching band keeps it's own beat in my head,
While we're talking about all of the things that I long to believe,
About love, the truth, what you mean to me,

I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses,
For tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails.
I wanna be just as close as your Holy Ghost is,
And lay you down on a bed of roses.

Bed of Roses, Bon Jovi

Chapter 21

Fiyero opened his eyes slowly, trying to determine what day it might be. It was not that it particularly mattered, but he felt compelled to keep track. It made him feel less out of control, somehow. He drug himself slowly out of bed, trying not to disturb the warm body beside him. He pulled on his trousers, and ran a hand through his hair, noting that the head poking out from under his blankets was blonde. It was an unspoken fact that the women he brought home were always light-haired and rosy skinned. Years ago, when he'd first come to the city, he'd made the mistake of stumbling home with a raven-haired dancer. The sight of her hair, splayed out on the pillow the next morning had sent his mind reeling back to Shiz. It made him think of her. The pain of the memory had nearly suffocated him.

That was the moment he'd decided he had to hate her. He'd pined for her and ached for what had happened, but in that moment, he knew the only way he'd survive was to hate her.

Elphaba.

Her name floated around in his mind, making him wish for a stronger hangover. Over the past several weeks, he'd been far more unsettled than he'd let on to Avaric. Until now, he'd reached a fairly consistent pattern in his life. He nursed a grudge so strong it made him physically ache, so he drank to make the days passable. He had money, women, and plenty of expensive liquor. It was a life many bachelors would kill for, and he'd almost managed to numb the memories of Shiz. Then, one revelation from Avaric had jammed the gears of his apathetic life.

I'm certain I saw Elphaba Thropp, Avaric had said.

Fiyero stumbled through the sitting area of his flat and into the kitchen. He added some fire to the wood stove and set the pot on for coffee. Then he sat there, staring out the window.

He didn't want to care. He didn't want it to matter that Avaric had stumbled upon his former lover. He'd spent a great deal of time turning his misery into hate, and he'd always assumed she'd been killed on some ridiculous mission to rally against the Wizard. He'd mourned her, made her the source of all his spite and depression, and he'd managed to hate her. Fiyero also hated himself a little bit, because he wasn't enough like Avaric to write off their affair as young lust and move on. He'd tried, that much was certain, but no Philosophy club or round of drinks could get Elphaba out of his head.

Now, he rubbed his eyes and tried to decide how he felt. It made him angry all over again, to know that she was alive and living an apparently happy life. It made the betrayal and her lack of feelings for him come rushing back. It was as though she'd slapped him once again, by going on with her life as though he'd never been part of it. He also began to question why her whereabouts mattered so much to Avaric. Fiyero thought he and Avaric had made their peace with each other, and the fact that Elphaba Thropp had used them both recklessly. Now, he wondered if Avaric might have feelings for her after all.

Perhaps he wants another chance with her, and he just wants to know that I'm absolutely not a threat…

The thought brought back the image of Elphaba and Avaric, naked on the bed at Shiz. It had been burned so permanently into his brain that he couldn't erase it, and it still made him nauseous. If there was any truth in the idea that Avaric wanted to be with her, Fiyero determined he would walk away. He could find a new accomplice in partying, because he couldn't imagine watching Elphaba and Avaric become lovers.

The thought brought such a strong, unexpected wave of agony that Fiyero's breath caught and he slammed his fist onto the table. And then he was angry, because he was so tired of being unable to heal from a wound inflicted six years prior.

Maybe it's time to let it all go…

The thought paralyzed him, because if he let it go, he truly had nothing. It felt as though he were standing at the edge of a cliff, with no idea if there was a bottom. Fiyero was terrified of venturing over the ledge, and falling for the rest of his life.

No, he told himself, getting out a bottle of whiskey, This is easier. This is safe.

He downed a glass of the strong liquor and then took his coffee back to his bedroom to get dressed. The whiskey mixed with the warm coffee calmed his nerves, and he dressed quietly, before the girl in the bed could wake up. Then, he left the flat, leaving the door unlocked. When whatever-her-name-was woke up, she would certainly get the message as to why he'd left her alone. Even if she was angry, there wasn't much she could steal or break in his barren flat.

Fiyero shook it off and headed toward his usual breakfast spot. The café at the end of the block had good, hot coffee and scones that were reminiscent of the sugar cakes his mother had made when he was a child. He liked to sit at the corner table and watch the people, hurrying about their lives as though everything was so very important. It made him chuckle with irony, because he had found very little in this life, up to this point, to be in a hurry about.

Fiyero had only been at his table a few minutes, when a very unexpected face came through the door. It was Galinda, he realized, as she glanced around the café. Finally seeing him, she crossed to sit in the chair across the table from him.

Fiyero took a sip of coffee and asked, "What brings you here, Madame Press Secretary? Do they not have eggs at the palace?"

"Yes," Galinda stated, "Very good ones, in fact. But I was hoping to find you."

"Me?" Fiyero looked incredulous, "I wasn't aware that we have anything in common."

"Elphaba," Galinda stated, watching for his reaction.

"No," Fiyero spat, starting to stand and leave.

Galinda took his arm, her expression hard, "Don't walk out, Fiyero. This is never going to get any easier."

"This never has to happen, either," he shot back.

"Look, I am not asking you to love her. I'm not asking you to forgive her," Galinda offered.

Fiyero sat back down, "Then what are you asking?"

"I'm just asking you to see her."

Fiyero laughed sadly, "I can't believe you forgave her. She abandoned you, too, Galinda."

Galinda's lips were set in a thin line, "Perhaps she had good reason."

"And what would that be?" Fiyero demanded.

Galinda opened her mouth to answer, but said nothing.

"That's what I thought. There is no good reason for doing what she did. In fact, I assumed she was dead. It would've served her right if she was."

"Fiyero!" Galinda gasped, shocked at the raw, bitter hatred he made no effort to conceal.

"What? Do you want me to sugar-coat how I feel?" he clutched his coffee cup, his face set in hard lines, his hands trembling, "She wrecked me, Galinda."

Galinda took a deep breath, finding some compassion, "I know, Fiyero. She wrecked me, too…"

Fiyero was surprised at the depth of the hurt he saw in Galinda's eyes then. It made him reconsider, that he had been hurt the most in all of this. He shook it off, though, and said, "So how did you forgive her?"

"Because I love her," Galinda caught herself, and quickly added, "She's my best friend, almost my sister. She made me who I am…"

Fiyero looked at his hands, "I suppose she made me who I am, as well," he grumbled.

Galinda placed her delicate hands over his much larger, darker ones, "Fiyero, please just see her. Tell her how you feel and just get it out. It might help you…to move on."

Fiyero jerked away, "You sound just like Avaric! When did everyone suddenly begin to feel as though they need to analyze me? When did this outbreak of conscience occur? I'm happy like this, Galinda. I have a good life. Now leave me be!"

Galinda looked both angry and defeated as she stood, "Well, I must say that you certainly look very, very happy," she spat, with obvious sarcasm.

Fiyero would say no more, so she turned on her expensive heels and left.

The following day, Avaric made his way towards the fourth ward on foot. He knew he was most likely wasting his time, and walking into a metaphorical pit of vipers, but he was still compelled to make his way toward Elphaba's restaurant.

It was a decent evening, just warm enough to hint at the coming of spring. Avaric walked slowly, wrapped in a winter cloak and trying to decide what to say once he arrived at the restaurant. Nothing he'd said up to this point had worked, or been particularly helpful, and he wondered if maybe this whole thing had been doomed from the start. He really had no idea why it mattered that he solve this, and it would be simpler to let Fiyero drink away his problems.

After a few more blocks, Avaric decided that maybe he was doing this because, for the first time in a year, he had a purpose. Granted, it was a bit superficial and not technically his fight, but it gave him something to focus on. The whole ordeal made Avaric realize how very shallow their lives had become, and how badly he needed something to do. So he took a deep breath and swung open the door to Elphaba's restaurant once again. She saw him immediately, and fixed him with a hard glare.

As he approached the counter, she said, "I asked you not to come back here. Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?"

"Stupid," Avaric answered without missing a beat, "and because of that, I will keep coming back until you talk to me."

Elphaba narrowed her eyes, "You will do no such thing!"

Matvei caught their conversation from the other end of the counter and asked, "Fae?"

"I'm fine," she answered, "I just want him out of here!"

"Elphaba, I just want to talk to you! I've tried to apologize, and I don't understand why you and Fiyero are so determined to be miserable!"

Elphaba started to retort, but a small voice caught her attention and they all turned their heads. Mia stood just a few feet from Elphaba, just outside the kitchen door.

"Mama?" she asked, "Can I have teacakes for dinner?"

Elphaba was frozen and wild-eyed, like an animal on the precipice of a trap or cornered at the edge of a cliff.

She did not answer, and Mia asked, "Mama?"

Avaric tried to speak, but no words came out. He looked from Elphaba to the little girl, and a thousand thoughts ran through his head. He wondered if Fiyero knew about her, and if it would matter to him. He wondered exactly how old she was and if she might even be Matvei's. Then, he wondered why Elphaba would want to hide her from him. The one thing he did not question is that she was Elphaba's. And then, with a skip of his heartbeat, he wondered if she was his.

"Elphie…?" was all Avaric could manage to say.

Elphaba started to speak, but her voice caught. Matvei, sensing that something important was happening, came and took Elphaba by the arm. He said to Avaric, "Master Avaric, is it? Fae can speak with you in an hour, after we close up. I think the two of you should sort this out upstairs."

Elphaba whipped her head around to glare at Matvei and shake her head fervently. She started to argue, but he silenced her.

"I think this has to be done, Fae," he stated, and her shoulders slumped a little.

Avaric just sat there, long after Elphaba had gone begrudgingly back to work. He stared at the little girl until she disappeared into the kitchen, trying to convince someone to give her teacakes. His stomach did flips and tied itself into knots. His mind raced with unanswered questions as to what he was seeing.

Sweet Oz, he finally said to himself, I never would have thought…

It felt like an eternity before Matvei and Elphaba had the restaurant closed up for the evening. Avaric said nothing. He sat on the stool and stared at his hands, utterly confused and unsure how to feel. He suddenly, more than anything, wished he'd never walked into this mess.

"Come upstairs," Matvei finally offered quietly, gesturing towards the door.

Avaric followed, winding through the kitchen and hallway, and then up the stairs to the apartment above. It was small, but well kept, he noted. There were toys scattered about and, he couldn't help noticing, only one bed. His survey ended when he saw the little girl again, sitting by the fire with some ceramic cups and a stuffed doll.

"She's the image of you, Elphie…" Avaric couldn't help commenting aloud.

Matvei offered a seat on the sofa, and Avaric sat. Elphaba sent Mia across the room, and then perched on the chair across from them, refusing to meet Avaric's eyes.

Matvei started, "I obviously know very little about what's going on here, but Master Avaric keeps coming back. It seems that we need to settle whatever the problem is so we can all move on with our lives…"

"All right," Elphaba sat up straighter, "Avaric is a selfish pig and should not be allowed to associate with humans," she spat.

"Elphie…have you absolutely no forgiveness in you? Are you that bitter?" Avaric questioned.

"You used me…like a tool, and then lied to me!" Elphaba accused.

"No…I manipulated you. You knew the entire time what you were delving into!" Avaric defended.

"You never followed through! You lied to me! And maybe I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it still hurt…to know that you could treat me like that and it mean nothing!" Elphaba shrieked.

Avaric was momentarily stunned, surprised that Elphaba had ever been anything more than angry with him. He realized now how much she must have gone through in six years, to be able to admit that he'd hurt her.

"I have tried to apologize," he offered weakly.

Elphaba stood, pointing an accusing finger in his direction, "You threw me across the room, Avaric! You fractured three of my ribs! And you didn't give a damn!"

Matvei turned to Avaric, a hard expression on his face, "Is that true?" he asked.

Avaric struggled for an answer, "Yes…sort of. I never intended to throw anyone. I was just defending myself…"

"From a woman?" Matvei was not convinced.

"From the force that is Elphaba Thropp! She's as tall as I am, and she was ready to claw out my eyes…"

Matvei looked him over, "I suppose intention should be considered. Carelessness is not the same as malice…"

"So you're taking his side?" Elphaba demanded.

Matvei went to her and took her arms, trying to look into her eyes, "Fae…Fae? If he's willing to apologize…if what you're speaking of was a very unfortunate accident, and he's gone to the trouble to come here several times, is hating him really worth all of this? And is this really the reason why you're so angry?"

Elphaba grit her teeth, wanting to arguing, but Matvei knew her too well. He was the only person who could calm her and make her choose reason.

There was a long silence then, broken only when Mia returned to stand in front of the sofa. She looked close to tears, and in a tiny voice she asked, "Mat…did that man hurt Mama?"

Avaric was struck by the fear in the little girl's voice, and he felt terribly guilty for having scared her.

Elphaba looked from Mia to Avaric, trying to choose the best course of action. Finally, she knelt down and said, "No, my child. Not today. We had an argument, a disagreement, and we're trying to solve it."

"Could you…" Mia started, and two tears slid down her face, "Could you stop yelling?"

"Yes," Avaric cut in, "We can. And I'm sorry."

Elphaba looked up at him, clearly touched by the genuine regret in his voice. She hugged Mia and sent her back across the room to play with her doll.

"What's her name?" Avaric asked.

"Mia," Matvei answered as Elphaba sat back down.

"You have a beautiful child," Avaric said, "A beautiful family…"

Elphaba averted her eyes and Matvei corrected, "She's not mine. We're a family, of sorts, but we're not lovers. And Mia isn't mine, biologically."

"Maybe that's not what matters," Elphaba spoke up.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, when the only sound was the crackling of the fire.

"So…what now?" Matvei asked gently.

Avaric spoke softly, "Elphaba, if you can't forgive me, I suppose I understand. I was young and stupid, and what I did was inexcusable. But…would you talk to Fiyero?"

"Why does it matter so much to you?" she snapped, "If he wanted to talk to me, why can't he come here himself? I believe he made it very clear when we parted ways how he felt!"

"But Elphaba, if he's her father…" Avaric argued.

"That's none of your concern! She has no father! None of you has any claim over her! You didn't birth her and feed her and give up your life for her! You never even considered that…that…" she was unable to finish the sentence.

Mia looked up again, and Matvei intervened, "All right! That's enough. Master Avaric, I think it would be good for you to come back another time. The two of you can think this over and decide how to make some sort of peace."

Avaric turned to go, retrieving his cloak for the long, cold walk home. He considered saying something more, but trying to right his wrongs was becoming more and more troublesome.

Maybe it's not worth it…he mused, shuffling out into the night.

He was absolutely baffled by the night's turn of events, and had no idea how to interpret what he'd seen. He wanted to believe that Mia was Fiyero's. It made the most sense, and it was the best end to the story. Elphaba had been with Fiyero for some time before he'd come onto the scene. The chances were slim that he could've fathered that child. But still, he wondered. Clearly, Elphaba did not know, or simply refused to say. The more he wondered, the more uncertain he became, until his stomach was tied in vicious knots.

We can never really know, he told himself, so she's Fiyero's. It's better that way. I want it that way. She's Fiyero's…

Avaric kept walking, convincing himself.

Elphaba sat very still for a long time after Avaric left, staring at the fire. Mia came over at some point and curled up next to her in the chair. The little girl fell asleep, and Elphaba studied her, looking fruitlessly for an answer she'd hadn't received in six years.

Matvei had gone down to the kitchen, and returned after a time with some tea. He handed Elphaba a cup, and sat across from her.

"Fae," he finally said, "I know you'll be angry with me for asking again, but…who is Mia's father?"

Elphaba was weary, and she'd lost the will to fight this time. It seemed more and more pointless, to keeping hating Avaric. Idiocy was not really a crime, and there were other things in Oz that were more worthy of her anger. She also felt badly, for keeping Matvei in the dark when he'd been so candid about his life. After six years, the chances of him ridiculing her were quite slim.

Elphaba took a shaking breath and said, "I don't know."

"I get it," Matvei sounded bitter, "She has no father."

"No," Elphaba stopped him, "I truly don't know."

Matvei looked confused.

Elphaba refused to look at him as she let the story spill out. She told him about Fiyero and how she'd had great plans for both of them. She told him how she'd used Fiyero's feelings for her to keep him coming back. Then, she explained how Avaric had blackmailed her, and how he had lied and never followed through. It was harder than she realized, to tell the end of the story. Fiyero's wounded expression was still burnt into her memory, and she realized more than ever how she'd never wanted to hurt him. Her voice caught a little, when she told about how Fiyero had refused to speak to her again.

Matvei sat there for a minute once she was done, considering, "So she could belong to either of them?"

Elphaba nodded.

"And there's no clue? No little sign or feature or anything?"

Elphaba looked down at her daughter, "No. Fiyero's a Winkie prince, but Mia's as green as me. Her face, her eyes, her hands, her hair, it's all mine…"

Matvei nodded his agreement.

"And neither of them claims her. Neither needs a child to complicate his life. It's better not to answer the question. Let both of them go on with their lives."

Matvei looked troubled, "How could they have claimed her, if they've never known about her?"

Elphaba looked away.

"Fae…this Fiyero…did you love him?"

Elphaba started to say no. She wanted to say no. She'd spent years saying no. But now, having retold the story, she couldn't get it past her lips. It terrified her, and she stood up instead and gathered Mia in her arms.

"She should sleep," she said instead.

Elphaba knew Matvei was watching as she climbed the stairs to her room. She laid Mia down on her bed and covered her with the quilt. She crossed to the wardrobe, to get her nightclothes, but stopped short. Something welled up in her, and she was suddenly fighting back tears. She hadn't cried in some time, and didn't want to give in to the weakness of it now. Still, something was aching within her, something she didn't want to confront for fear that it would tear her apart. So she wiped furiously at the tears until she realized that Matvei was standing at the top of the stairs.

Elphaba put her face in her hands, biting her lip and trembling. Matvei crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her. Then, the tears fell. He held her like that, and kissed the top of her head until the tears subsided.