First off, I'm sorry for the wait. I am NEVER doing it like this again—from now on when I have a story idea I'm not posting any of it until it's 100% complete, and I can post once a week. I'm SO sorry for continuously stalling on this.

Second, I have the rest of this story done, so it's all being posted in one mass update. The sequel… well, look above. That's what you'll get the sequel.

And thanks to Elphaba'sGirl and Elphabalover101 for the reviews! You guys are amazing!

Enjoy!

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Kiamo Ko was much bigger than she expected.

Elphaba had assumed it would be a small little castle, with the few secret passages and tunnels Fiyero had promised for a quick and easy hide or escape. A small little structure of sorts that he could spare seemed quite logical.

But Kiamo Ko was bigger than the mansion she grew up in—and that was always such a big place. Chocolate brown eyes turned to stare into those of Fiyero's, her gaze questioning. "No one's been here in years," the prince stated, trying to ease the witch's worry, "you'll be safe."

And that was what worried her.

The entire time she and Fiyero were travelling to the abandoned castle, she had one thought on her mind. She trusted him by now—well, not fully trusted him, but enough that she followed him without much question. And as they ducked inside, and she saw just how big and beautiful and just how many hideaways lined the walls, the feeling of fear grew. And her worry about the safety of her staying here was consuming.

Not that she was afraid of not being safe…

"I can't do this," she finally confessed, looking away. There was no way she could go along with this plam. As much as an actual place hide in would have been lovely—she couldn't take Fiyero's castle. First off, it was Fiyero's castle—and there was always of a chance of someone eventually wandering in. But she knew that chance was extremely unlikely, just like he promised.

And that was her problem.

The worst of it was the sickening feeling of never having this much kindness being offered to her before. In the past she was lucky if someone offered her a hand up off the floor—and that was usually only after they were done laughing about tripping her.

But now someone who she met only a day or two ago, who he was supposed to capture her and who she was not supposed to trust—was offering her a place to be safe.

And the icing on the cake—she did feel safe.

But Elphaba did not want to feel safe.

She didn't know how to handle feeling safe—it was a foreign emotion to her. Even when she befriended Glinda—her first friend ever—she didn't exactly feel safe. She couldn't, not with the other girls in Shiz wanting the green girl to get lost from the group. Not even when she was accepted to see the Wizard did she feel safe, she had a nagging feeling that she would undeniably mess up. And even at the train station, when Nessa confessed she was proud, and how their father would be too, she didn't feel safe when she thought of going back home some day and having her father be happy to see her instead of threatening to beat her.

Elphaba had never felt safe before. And with everything that just happened—the meeting and the capture and almost drowning and the confessions and the nicknames and the memories and ohsweetOzshewasinlove— she wasn't sure letting her guard down to accept being safe was a good idea.

Fiyero of course either didn't understand or didn't care. Or perhaps he didn't want to see her in danger—but his concern made her feel…

She was definitely going with he didn't understand or care.

"Elphaba," he whispered, grabbing her hand. The contact was sudden and unfamiliar— it sent a jolt up Elphaba's arm and it wormed its way into her chest. It felt like fireworks—and she did not like it. "Elphaba, look at me."

She didn't.

"Ellphaba, please…"

She didn't dare to move. She didn't dare to look at him, to look at his concern. She didn't want him to convince her to be safe.

"Fae, I swear to Oz if you do not stop being so stubborn I'm going to—,"

"You're going to what?" she spat, "Bring me to the Wizard? Throw me in the dungeons? Put me in danger?" Her voice was laden with bitterness— but she knew that voice of hers well.

Defense—she used that tone to defend herself from the enemy. And she planned on using it until the enemy was gone.

"Go right ahead, you Oz damned idiot! I preferred it then and I certainly prefer it now!"

"Prefer what?"

Elphaba cackled, "You really are empty-headed, aren't you?"

Fiyero felt the pang of hurt—she same hurt she wanted him to feel. This outburst of hers was so out of the blue—it didn't even seem like an Elphaba type of reaction.

No… it was very much like the Wicked Witch of the West.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Fiyero snarled right back, "When I'm capturing you, you seem to be perfectly fine with that—but suddenly you turn vicious when someone's trying to help you? How does that even work?"

"Because perhaps some of us don't need help!"

"Or don't want help, you mean?" the prince scoffed, staring at the girl before him. Elphaba went to retort, went to snap at him, but no words left her mouth. No sound escaped her throat.

No excuse came to mind.

Of course she wanted help—she just didn't want to face the unfamiliar feelings that followed. But how was she supposed to explain that? Of course this castle to hide in was an amazing gesture—but she felt vulnerable the more she thought about it. She felt… safe. That wordechoed painfully in her mind, reminded her of how she always wanted to be safe… no, not anymore. She was always on her guard, she never wanted to feel things that could leave her open for attack in the distant future. She learned by now. Her breath caught in her throat, her shoulders slumping as she looked away. Fiyero waited a moment, almost as if making sure she was down off her tantrum before he spoke, "Calm enough to talk like a big girl now?"

"Shut up."

"I'll take that as a yes," he mumbled, taking a step forward. She mirrored him, taking a step back. Fiyero stood still, "Please, Elphaba I… I just want to help you."

"Then leave."

"Huh?"

Elphaba finally looked up, her eyes stained with tears. She was so confused, her own ways were killing her—she wanted to be safe but she wasn't sure she wanted to feel safe. She wanted to have a friend who she could trust but she wasn't sure she was ready to trust.

"Then leave me alone, let me go back to wandering on my own," she clarified, wiping away her tears. He made her vulnerable—he made her feel things she never felt before. She hated him for making her love him.

"Fae, I can't do that," Fiyero sympathized. "Yes," Elphaba snapped, "yes you can!"

"I can, but I won't."

Elphaba's voice was hardly anything more than a whisper now, "Fiyero, please…"

"Why won't you accept help? Why don't you want to be safe, Fae?"

And there it was.

It was blunt, and expected, but Elphaba was still taken back. Fiyero noticed, his hand slowly finding hers as he laced their fingers together. It felt right to the both of them—but Elphaba couldn't deal with it. His touch made her melt—and she promptly yanked her hand away.

"I'm not used to it. I've always had to be alert—I've never been safe before. I don't know how to handle it, okay? It makes me feel… vulnerable," she confessed, looking away. Hearing his reaction was bad enough, she didn't need to see it too.

"That's what you're so worked up about?"

She flinched—he sounded relieved.

"I mean, I understand that a new feeling is scary sometimes, but…," Fiyero tried to find the right way to say it, "it's kind of a dumb reason."

Elphaba was about to scold him, to tell him that it was a perfectly logical reason, but the next thing she knew her face was pressed against his chest and his arms were wrapped around her.

He was hugging her. And for some reason—she liked it.

"Fae, you deserve to feel safe. Safety is supposed to fight off fear—but if you let feeling safe cause fear, you'll seal your own fate," Fiyero soothed, cupping her cheek in his hand. Elphaba just stared for a moment, "That's… deep."

"Thanks," he grinned. Elphaba just blinked, shaking her head, "No, I mean… really. Are you talking from experience?"

"Not really, no," Fiyero shrugged, "but it's just an obvious fact."

Of course he had been talking from experience. His experience was just a bit different.

His fear was Elphaba getting hurt—so in order for him to feel safe, she had to feel safe.

"… Yero?"

"Yes, Fae?" He didn't want to admit how giddy it made him to hear her use that nickname again.

She hesitated for a moment, and then looked into his bright blue eyes. The words barely made it past her lips, "Something isn't right, though."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I… I trust you."

"How is that a bad thing, though?"

"Trusting you isn't the bad thing… it's just…"

"It's what?"

There was no reply.

"Fae, what is it?"

"It's…," Elphaba bit her lip to silence herself. She was trying to think of other ways to say this—anything to avoid the potential embarrassment. She was afraid once more of how right this felt.

She had to say it—but the words refused to leave her mouth.

"Elphaba… what's wrong—,"

He was silenced at an unfamiliar pressure suddenly being placed on his front. It took Fiyero a moment to realize the situation—she was leaning forward, pressed against him, her fists clutching his shirt collar like a lifeline.

And her lips were pressed against his.

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I am proud to announce there are 1,645 words in this chapter, not including the A/N parts. Victory is mine. X3