Chapter 1: A Cheap, Rented Room Near Shiz, 16 Years Later

It was a small inn, rundown and clearly not frequented by many guests of importance. Of course, that's why her father had chosen it. They'd come to Shiz a day early for the wedding. Frex had performed her marriage in a church where he had just taken the job of co-minister. And then he'd ushered them (through a side door, of course) to this inn so they could… consummate it. Elphaba swallowed hard, ready to enter the room.

Her father reached out and grabbed her before she reached the door handle. "Fabala, you know what is expected of you?"

She glared at him. She'd known what was expected of her since she was old enough to understand words. This marriage wasn't about love, it was about the child she was to conceive per some vision her father had when she was still an infant. "I know, Father."

Frex eyed her for a moment. "There was a time a few years ago when you protested this. I thought I'd have to tie you to that bed and gag you so that your prince could…"

"Father!" Elphaba winced. In her teens, she hadn't wanted this. She still didn't. But she'd come to realize that the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she got her life back. She only hoped that bearing a child wouldn't get in the way of her education. "I will do what is expected."

Frex released her wrist. "Good girl." He nodded at her and moved down the hall, finding a small chair and sitting down.

Just what she needed - her father only feet away while she went to her marriage bed. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Her new husband sat on the edge of the bed, looking up when she entered. She'd only seen him for maybe five minutes before being whisked back here. Elphaba hadn't been able to look into his eyes when reciting her marriage rites. Why should she? This marriage didn't matter. He didn't matter. Neither did she. This was only about the child they were to create. And when all that was over, they never had to speak to one another again if they didn't wish to.

He stood as she closed the door. "Elphaba," he said, her name sounding strangely beautiful with his accent.

"Prince Fiyero," she replied simply. She began undoing her simple white dress and let it fall to the floor.

He stared at her for a moment. "I had thought we could talk, perhaps?"

"We're locked in this suite for twelve hours, and it isn't to talk, Prince Fiyero." She shed her undergarments quickly and settled into the bed. "Shall we get this over with?"

"'Get this over with,'" he repeated slowly. "You don't want this."

"Why would I? No offense, Prince Fiyero, but I don't know you. I also don't want to play hostage to a child for nine months. But we each have our part to play. Shall we?" Elphaba gazed at him levelly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she hoped he couldn't tell. She was inexperienced and already feeling uneasy naked before him.

He sighed, but removed his shirt. "You understand this might hurt?"

She shrugged. "I know how this works." And she did not truly fear the pain. What she feared was allowing anyone to see the pain.

His eyes traced her body. "This is strange," he admitted. "We're never to tell a soul we're married. We're about to go back to living separate lives, and maybe we'll talk at Shiz, maybe we won't. We'll see each other at prearranged times for sex and that is all. This isn't what I thought a marriage might be."

Elphaba ran a hand through her hair, looking at him. "I understand that this isn't normal, Prince Fiyero."

"Stop with the title, please. I'm your husband, at least when we're alone." He unfastened his trousers and joined her on the bed. "I know nothing about you but your name."

"And I know nothing about you. That's probably for the best."

Fiyero slipped a hand under her chin and kissed her.

She blinked, surprised. "What was that for?"

"If we have to do this, let's enjoy it a little. In the Vinkus, it is believed that a woman's pleasure is lucky, and helps with conception." He traced one of her breasts with his hands. "And if that's what we're trying to do here, then I shouldn't be the only one having a good time."

She shivered and felt her body respond to his touch. "You seem to know what you're doing," she commented, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks.

"I was instructed. Like I said, we believe that pleasing a woman helps with fertility. I've never… if that's what you're asking." He stopped, his eyes meeting hers.

"I wasn't asking. I don't care."

He nodded slowly. "You're certain you don't want to talk some? It wouldn't hurt to know one another."

"I don't care to know you, Fiyero. We're not here to fall in love. We don't have the time for that. We're not allowed to."

"We're not allowed to marry or make love, either, but here we are."

"For a purpose," she clarified. "I don't know why your parents went along with this, but my father had a vision." And since that vision, this had been his focus. He'd uprooted the entire family to move to Shiz to be near her. The only way a young woman was allowed out of her dorm without an Ama was if an immediate family member was supervising her. So her father's plan was to pull her out of her dorm every Saturday afternoon, saying he needed her to assist with his sermon for Sunday morning. And come Sunday morning, she would be at his church. But until then, she'd be shoved into a small suite at a random inn with Fiyero trying to conceive a child.

And when that child was conceived, he'd pull her out of Shiz citing a family emergency and hide her in Munchkinland until she'd given birth. Then she'd return to school - something she'd demanded be a part of the bargain. Frex hadn't cared if she returned to school or not, but she did.

All for some stupid vision her father had… "Why, exactly, did your family go along with this, Fiyero?" She knew that Vinkuns worshipped older gods and idols - her father hated that. So what would prompt them to believe a prophecy from a god they didn't even believe in?

"The Clock of the Time Dragon," Fiyero said simply, returning his hand to her breast.

"The what?"

"It's an ancient legend. Apparently, when I was a child, it came and foretold my destiny, which was for you and I to have a powerful child." He shrugged, as though it was nothing. One of his fingers circled her breast again, and he ran a thumb over the tip.

She stilled a shudder. "Do you believe it?"

"I'm not certain," he told her. "Do you believe your father's vision?"

She shook her head. "Not at all." Her breathing was coming faster. She'd never been touched like this before, and never with such tenderness. It was unexpected, how gentle he was with her. Elphaba ran her hands along his forearms, then his upper arms, feeling his muscles tighten. "But I suppose we have no choice, do we?"

He kissed her softly again, this time pushing her lips apart with his tongue and finding hers. An arm came around her waist and drew her closer to him, their bodies flush. His hands were big, and she sensed the strength beneath them. When they drew apart, he murmured, "As long as you're ready."

While she appreciated his patience, she didn't need it. "I wouldn't have undressed if I weren't," she told him, feigning bravery. She disliked being vulnerable.

He ran his fingers along her thighs. "Your skin is very soft, you know."

She'd never received any sort of compliment regarding her skin. "I… thank you." She studied the markings on his chest for a moment as his fingers moved closer to the juncture of her thighs. Her breath hitched as he began to brush the tips of his fingers carefully over her folds. Elphaba relaxed slightly into his touch, not flinching when a single finger slid inside of her.

When she'd come of age, her father had her examined by multiple midwives to assure her fertility. And yearly, he'd called on a midwife to assure her virginity to make certain she'd be pure for her husband. But the tools inside her then had been probing, cold and metallic. Fiyero's finger was caressing, his flesh warm against hers. He drew his finger out slowly, then moved it back in, and she felt fluid begin to pool between her thighs, slickening her folds and making it easier for him to slip a second finger into her.

He brought his lips back to hers, not waiting this time as his tongue parted her lips and dueled with hers. She kissed him back, not wanting to be a wilting flower. One of her hands went to the back of his head, tangling in his hair. Her other hand clutched at the arm that wasn't moving between her legs. Bravely, she pulled him back over her and onto the bed.

"You're certain?" He whispered.

She'd told him several times again that it didn't matter if she consented, or if she wanted it, but in that moment, her body wanted it. Elphaba nodded and let her legs fall open. As he slipped quickly into her, she stifled a yelp at the sudden pressure, the sudden fullness within her.

"I'm right here," he told her. He ran his forefinger and middle finger over the spot where her neck and shoulder met, massaging her skin. "This is going to be easier if I move now."

While it ached, she shed no tears, only pressed herself towards him. "What you will."

He moved slowly at first, and somewhat awkwardly. But she met his lips with her own again, this time moving her own tongue to meet his first. This seemed to give him confidence, and his thrusts were stronger, fiercer. The throbbing between her legs faded into a deeper, more tender bliss. Her hands clutched the sheets beneath her.

Fiyero began to move faster, and she met his thrusts with her own arched back. Her body knew what to do, despite her inexperience, and she drew him in deeper, until he pushed against something inside her so sweet her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Her legs wrapped around his waist; one of her hands grabbed at his lower back, wanting more of him, all of him. And he gave it to her, diving so deep she saw stars behind her eyes.

The bed was shaking beneath the force of their sex; her eyes closed as she let the delirium begin to build inside her. A tightening began in her belly and lower; she was moving so fast against him that she could barely breathe. The pleasure began to come now in waves until one so powerful tore through her body that she bit down to keep the moan from flying out of her mouth and her body trembled around him, quaking beneath him. Moments later, he slowed and she felt a burst within her as he finished, panting.

To avoid meeting his eyes, she studied the diamond on his neck and shifted, sitting up slightly so he could pull away. His seed dripped along her thighs, sticky and warm. There was blood there, too, and a little on the sheets.

He noticed it, and stared for a moment. Fiyero swallowed before speaking. "Are you… are you…?"

She only nodded, trying to gather her wits again. He had built a fire in her, and she needed to put it out before it burned her from the inside.

"It felt like you… did you… I tried to hold back until you…"

"I did," she blurted quickly, hoping to stop his yammering. As the feeling faded, the soreness came trickling back. It must've hurt more than she had noticed. Her body wouldn't allow her to close her legs completely yet, so she pulled a blanket over her. She looked to check them time, shocked to find that they still hand a long way to go to finish their wedding night. It had felt like hours of ecstasy. It occurred to her then that they should try again, but the pain between her legs threatened at the simple thought.

He stood after squeezing her shoulder. "I'm going to get a damp cloth and clean the blood…"

"Don't!" Her voice was urgent, and she winced. "I mean… I'm… no water."

"It won't sting…"

"Oh, it will do more than sting," she muttered. "I have a sort of, um, sensitivity to water. Touching it is akin to a burn. If I need to clean, I use alcohol or oil."

He seemed to take a moment to process this. "I see." He grabbed a cloth from the table beside the bed and then examined the bottles there. One was obviously a bottle of wine. Another was smaller, familiar. Oil. "This?"

Her father must have left it there. "That's fine."

He placed some oil on a towel and pulled the blankets back again.

Before he could touch the towel to her thighs, she grabbed it from him. "I can do it myself." He'd been between her legs far too much already, and would be again. Then again, it hadn't been disappointing… she shook her head as she wiped the blood and fluid from her. "Thank you." After a moment, "I suppose we should do that again a few times? We're in here for quite some time…"

"Next time," he said. "I'm not going to bother an open wound, Elphaba. You'll be raw and bleeding worse."

"But we're supposed to…"

He laughed, surprising her. "You really didn't seem like the type who always does what she's supposed to. I see a girl - a woman - who goes along with the important things, but revolts against the little things to make a point."

She shivered, telling herself it was the cool night air. "That's oddly accurate." And it was. She'd learned early on that fighting her father over big things like her marriage or going with him on missions had never done her any good. But she did occasionally skip church, to remind herself that she had a choice.

"Besides, there is blood on the sheets. No one is going to know how many times we were intimate. Next week, if you're up for that, I'd be glad to." He grinned at her. "But tonight, why don't you rest?"

That sounded so tempting. "And what will you do?"

"We start school tomorrow. I'm going to read."

Author's Note: The chapters in this story are longer (usually my chapters are 2-3 pages while this one goes about 5), so posting for this will probably be slower, but that's because you're getting more than you would usually with each chapter.
As you can see, Frex is... not a great father. Elphaba is quite literally a baby-making machine to him. I'm really hoping to look a little more at that later, but I may not. We'll see where the characters take me. We meet Galinda next chapter! :-)