Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fathers and Sons

"I can't believe you're going to be king soon." Fiyero's father took another swig of whiskey. "And then you'll be a married man, too. Soon after that you'll be a father, I hope."

The two men were sitting alone in Fiyero's father's office. His father was smoking a cigar, and Fiyero was looking uneasily at a half-empty glass of whiskey on the table. His mother had disappeared to help the servants with something or other and Elphaba had gone up to bed and was probably waiting up for him. "Speaking of being married, I promised Elphaba I wouldn't be up too late. I should get back to her."

"She can live with it. She has to get used to it, anyway."

"What do you mean by that?" Fiyero looked at the older man suspiciously. He hadn't had a serious conversation with his father in years, and now he'd asked him up to the study to drink.

"When you're married, you're welcome to do whatever you want with whomever you want, you know."

"I don't have any interest in wanting anyone else. Elphaba is everything I could ever consider wanting, Father. I'm not…" He stopped himself.

"You're not like me? Is that what you were going to say?"

"I just meant that you and Mother weren't in love. I love Elphaba."

"Love fades." His father shrugged.

"Not for us," he insisted.

"Wait until after she's had a child. Certain things won't feel quite the same."

Fiyero cringed. "Please, Father, I don't want to talk about this with you. Or anyone. Ever. I love Elphaba. I'm going to marry her." And he meant it.

"You don't understand the way marriage works, Son."

"You don't understand the way love works! Mother does, and I wish she didn't! You don't deserve for her to love you the way she does." He slammed the glass down and stomped out of the room.

Elphaba was, in fact, waiting up for him, naked under the quilt on his bed. Her lustful smile faded when she saw the look on his face. "Yero, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He climbed into bed, still dressed, and curled up beside her. "Would you mind if I just held you for a little before we do anything else?"

"I wouldn't mind in the least, my sweet, but first you need to tell me what's wrong."

"My father crossed a line I wish he hadn't crossed."

At that point there was a knock on the door and Elphaba yanked the blankets up to her neck, hiding herself. Fiyero got up, looked over to make certain she was decent and answered the door. His father stood there, arms folded. "You don't get to talk to me like that, Son."

Maybe if it had been hours later, if he'd had any time to cool his heels or even an extra moment or two with Elphaba, he might not have snapped back. But he did. "You don't get to treat Mother the way you do."

"I'm King and I'll do whatever I damn well please. You do not get to judge me, Fiyero!"

"Maybe you should have this conversation somewhere else," Elphaba said softly, looking at Fiyero imploringly. "You know, somewhere where I'm not cowering naked beneath the sheets, please?"

"She's right," Fiyero shook his head. "Give us a minute, would you, Father?"

"Us?" Elphaba asked.

"Anything that needs to be said you can hear as well." He slammed the door in his father's face. "Get dressed."

He'd never seen her look at him the way she was at that moment, shocked and concerned. She often worried, but usually not about him. He never gave her reason to. "Yero, what in Kumbrica's arse happened?"

"My father made a few comments about having affairs and about the temporary nature of love. He tried comparing his marriage to my mother to… to this," he gestured at her, "and I'm not having it. I'm done listening to him treat her this way without saying anything, Fae. It's breaking her heart."

"Fiyero, you can't make him love her!" Elphaba said, digging through her things for a nightgown. "I understand that you are frustrated and that you have watched your mother's heart break for twenty years. But yelling at him won't change that."

"Someone needs to say something."

"It doesn't have to be you. You're his son. And he's still King. Punish him when he steps down. Angering him now is not a good idea. You saw how my father reacted when I upset him. Do you want something like that to happen to you?" Her body was trembling.

He understood suddenly that she was seeing parallels he hadn't seen, and she didn't like what was happening. She didn't want to be part of this conversation because she couldn't bear to relive the one she'd had with her own father, no matter that the subject had been completely different. He took her hand. "Fae, it's different with me. I'm their only son. He can't exactly throw me out."

She yanked it away. "I'm not standing there and listening to this! Yero, tell him you overreacted. Go ahead, tell him that it upsets you to see your mother hurt. Be honest about that. But do not upset him like this. I'm begging you, Fiyero. You don't need this. We don't need this. When you're king, make his life hell. But not right now. Please." Her eyes were big and pleading and she touched his cheek slowly.

He couldn't argue with that look. She'd begged him for things before, but never with the sadness he was seeing in her now. "Fine."

"And leave me out of it. Go back to the study. I'll be here when you get back. And I'll be wearing a damned nightgown this time." She pointed at the door and waved him out of it.

His father stood in the hallway. "I thought your precious fiancée was coming. Not dressed yet?"

"She's tired," he replied shortly. "And she wants to be left alone."

"Must be that time of the month," his father commented.

Fiyero winced and bit his tongue. "She's tired," he repeated. "And she wasn't exactly expecting me to come to bed angry. Look, Father, I didn't mean to be as harsh as I was. I love Mother, and it does hurt her the way you carry on. I got a little sensitive about it. I'd appreciate it if you didn't equate that with what I have with Elphaba. It's much different. I realize you don't understand that, much like I don't understand your marriage with Mother. Can we please just leave it at that?"

His father sighed. "You do have a lot to learn, but I suppose me telling you isn't going to help. The best way to learn is to experience. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Consider me warned," he said, clenching one fist behind his back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to sleep."

"Sleep? I'm pretty sure that's not what you're so eager to get back to." His father raised his eyebrows at him.

Fiyero snorted. "Maybe not. Would you please go? Maybe spend just a little time with Mother. She'd appreciate it."

His father rolled his eyes. "What you will." He took off down the hall.

Fiyero slipped back into the room quietly. Elphaba was lying on her side reading a book. She hadn't noticed him come in. He watched her for a moment, smiling to himself. He would do anything for her, and he had no intention of ever straying from that. After a moment, knowing she didn't like him staring, he cleared his throat. "You were right. I shouldn't have fought with him."

"It's nice to be right once in a while," she laughed, putting the book down.

"Now are you going to insist on keeping that nightgown on? Because I had other plans."