AN: Still slowly getting there...

10.

Of course, they had to hunt for matching shoes and jewellery after that; and it was almost dinnertime by the time they returned to Adurin Iir. Fiyero's knee was bothering him and so he went to lie down in his room for a while, while Nessa allowed Galinda to do her hair and make-up so that they would both look nice for dinner that night. Cyara joined her parents and grandfather for some family time in one of the sitting rooms and Elphaba retreated to the library, finding herself an interesting book on Animal rights.

Dinner was a quiet affair, but it was a comfortable silence. Frexspar was fussing over Nessarose, as always, and Fiyero's parents were quietly talking to one another. Elphaba glanced at her husband-to-be every now and then, but he seemed to be entranced by his food.

She wondered how she felt about him. She wondered if what she was feeling for him was really love, or merely something else. Maybe she just felt good about the fact that they were finally getting along now, which would make their marriage so much easier. Maybe she was just glad to have another friend and that was all.

However, when he took her hand and asked her to come with him after dinner and a herd of butterflies exploded in her stomach, she knew that it was not just that. No matter how hard she tried to deny it or how badly she wished it wasn't true, she knew she was hopelessly in love with her future husband. She felt like kicking herself for it. She hated herself for it. She had spent her entire life trying not to feel anything – not when people called her names, not when her own father hardly acknowledged her existence, not when she saw other people together, friends or couples, and knew she would never have that. She couldn't start feeling now. It would only hurt her in the end.

Fiyero led her to his own bedroom and they sat down on a couch by the fireplace.

"You said we'd talk later," he reminded her when she gave him an inquiring look. "Back in the carriage. Well, it's 'later' now, so I thought..."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked her. "Why are you so easily upset by everything I say? If you don't want to be friends –"

"No," she cut him off. "I do."

He looked utterly confused and she loathed herself for even thinking it, but it made him look... adorable. "So what's wrong, then?"

She bit her lip. What did she have to tell him? That she couldn't trust him, because hardly anyone in her life had ever been truly nice to her and she still suspected that he was playing some sort of game with her? That it was her fault that her mother had died and her sister was crippled, and that was why she was afraid to care about him, because everyone she cared about always got hurt? That she was in love with him and it was killing her to know that he would never return those feelings – not just because she was ugly and green, but also because she was snarky and sarcastic, talked too much, cared too deeply, and was altogether impossible to be around?

He took her hand again and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the electricity that shot up her arm.

"Fae," he said softly. "I know I haven't always been nice to you in the past, but you can trust me."

She glanced at him cautiously. He smiled at her.

"Did you really think I looked gorgeous in that dress?" she blurted out, wanting to kick herself immediately afterwards. What kind of question was that? Why in Oz had she asked him that?! He must think she was completely insane!

He just laughed, however, and shook his head. "Elphaba, how could anyone in their right mind not think you looked gorgeous in that dress?" His hand came up, as if he wanted to touch her hair, or her face; but it stilled in mid-air and he lowered it again after that without having touched her at all. "It's a shame you don't dress up more often," he said. "I think you'd look amazing."

She sighed, feeling the old frustration bubbling up again. She'd had these kinds of conversations dozens of time with Galinda back at Shiz. "Fiyero, what's the point?" she demanded. "I'm still green. Do you really think it matters whether I'm an artichoke in a shapeless black frock or an artichoke in a pretty silver dress? I still am, and always will be, an artichoke. Try as I may, I could never be pretty. Prettier than usual, maybe, but never really pretty."

He looked stunned. "Who gave you that idea?"

"The mirror," she said wryly.

He shook his head. "Fae... I truly am sorry about the things I've said to you about your skin," he said. "I... it was very shallow of me. But now... I mean, I can't really deny that it's strange, a person with green skin, but it's not bad strange. It's different, but different doesn't have to be a bad thing. Looking at you now, I don't understand how I could ever have thought that your skin is anything other than beautiful."

She could feel her cheeks burning, but she scoffed. "You're just saying that."

He shook his head again. "I'm not. The first time I realised that was that day in the hot water springs," he admitted. "I mean, I know you didn't want me to look... but I did... look... a little..." Now he flushed as well, and she could feel her own face reddening just a bit more. He grinned sheepishly at her. "Anyway... I saw you, then. And it made me realise that your skin is not necessarily ugly. That day... you looked beautiful to me. And once I saw that, it was impossible to not see it every time I looked at you."

"Fiyero," she said firmly, rising to her feet and all but glaring at him. "I appreciate your efforts to make me feel better. I do. But I don't like being lied to, not even when it's to make me feel better, so please just... just stop. I'm glad you're making an effort. I think we will get along just fine as husband and wife. But you really need to stop lying to me or I'll hex you all the way to Quadling Country."

With that, she strode out of the room, leaving Fiyero behind in utter bewilderment.

Much to the king and queen's relief, by the time Lurlinemas rolled around, Fiyero's knee had healed to the point where he was able to walk relatively normally and could perhaps even dance once or twice. He stayed in bed the entire day before the ball, to give his knee all the rest it needed; while Elphaba was being submitted to a whole different kind of torture – Galinda and her curling iron.

The other girls were all very excited about the ball. Galinda looked beautiful in a rosy pink ball gown with a poofy skirt and glitters everywhere. Nessa was wearing a modest, but elegant golden dress; and Cyara had chosen a gown in an aquamarine colour that matched her eyes. All of them had done something special with their hair – Galinda's was straightened, Cyara's curled, and Nessarose's hair was pinned up in a complicated updo – and now they were all directing their attention to their green friend. Needless to say that was not something Elphaba was very happy about.

Nessa was happily chattering on about the ball as Galinda brushed and then curled Elphaba's long, ebony hair, delicately brushing the curls over her shoulder to give her access to the other strands. Cyara was already choosing the make-up that would go well with both Elphaba's dress and her skin, asking Galinda for her opinion every now and then.

"Fiyero is going to be so impressed," Cyara said excitedly as she admired Elphaba's mirror image. "He already thought you looked gorgeous in that dressing room – just imagine the look on his face when you come out now!"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "It will probably be a look of terror," she said sarcastically. "Or maybe one of surprise, because he didn't know vegetables could wear make-up, too. Ow! Galinda!"

"Did I pull your hair too hard?" Galinda asked innocently. "Sorry. That had nothing to do with you being condescending about yourself despite the fact that I firmly told you not to say such things ever again."

"I'm surprised you know what "condescending" means," Elphaba muttered, earning her another hard yank on her hair. After that, she wisely kept her mouth shut.

"Galinda is right, Fabala," Nessa said. "I really do think the way Fiyero looks at you has changed. Of course it was wrong of him to tease you about your skin in the beginning, but sometimes you have to give people second chances."

Elphaba sighed. "I know."

"He really has changed," Cyara commented as she started on Elphaba's make-up while Galinda put the curling iron away. "He hardly ever goes out anymore –"

"He couldn't. His knee hurt him too much," Elphaba argued.

Cyara frowned at her. "Well, he also hasn't said anything about your skin in weeks –"

"That's just because he finally realised all this would be easier if he'd be nicer to me."

"He hasn't been drunk even once –"

"Because he knows I'd hex him if I caught him."

"He looks at you," Cyara continued. "All the time. And then he quickly looks away when he thinks you're about to look."

"Fabala does the same thing," Nessa said, amused, as her sister's head whipped around to look at her, wide-eyed. "I saw it."

Galinda gaped at her former roommate. "Elphie... are you in love with Fiyero?" she demanded.

"No!" Elphaba cried. "Of course not!"

"I think you are." Galinda gasped. "How can you be in love with such a man?!"

"He's not as bad as he was!" Cyara defended her brother. "We just talked about giving people second chances!"

Galinda sulked. "Okay, okay, you're right... but still." She shook her head. "For Oz's sake, Elphie, you're in love with your future husband! This is kind of romantic," she said, gushing. Nessa nodded enthusiastically. Elphaba just groaned.

"And he's in love with you, too," said Cyara casually, causing Elphaba to stare at her in utter disbelief.

"What?!"

"What?" the blonde asked, puzzled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice. Okay, maybe you didn't," she acknowledged. "You haven't known him that long, after all. But I have, and I can see it." She applied some eye shadow to Elphaba's eyelids. "I'm pretty sure he is in love with you."

"You're right," Nessa said to Galinda with a happy sigh. "This is romantic."

Elphaba stayed quiet and didn't say anything, secretly wondering if they were right, but instantly dismissing that thought. Of course they weren't right. Who could ever love someone like her? Certainly not a man like Fiyero. She should stop dreaming about what might have been.

She allowed the other girls to buzz around her without another protest from her lips. A part of her was dreading tonight; but another part of her, one that she tried her hardest to silence, could not help but feel hopeful and excited.