The World As We Know It

by elphabaoftheopera

When their long-awaited night of passion results in an unplanned pregnancy, Elphaba and Fiyero must navigate the consequences of the new world they've created. Years later, when Liir has questions about his past that even his Auntie Glinda won't answer, a startling discovery sets him on a journey that alters everything he once knew. Canon-Divergent. AU. Fiyeraba (& Gliyeraba).

16. If Not For Oz

Content Advisory: Violent imagery

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: IF NOT FOR OZ

"The child puts all of Oz at risk!" "A wicked seed from a rotten tree!" "The evil must be eliminated in the name of goodness!" Battle drums.

"No…"

"Elphaba?"

"Take the child!" "Raise it in goodness!" "Imprison the child!" "Study the child!" "See if wickedness is truly born!" A scrape of a pitchfork.

"Elphaba, darling? Elphaba…"

"No…"

"The child must die!" Fire. "The child must be killed!" Spears. "Cut wickedness off at the root!" Rope. "Before it has time to spread." Guns. "Kill mother and baby both!" "Make The Witch watch!" "Yes, make her watch!" "Make her watch!"

"NOOO!" Elphaba screamed, long and high-pitched. She kicked and spasmed frantically. "No, no, no, no, no!"

"Elphaba! Wake up! Look at me, look at me!"

Elphaba shuddered awake, slick with sweat and hopelessly disoriented. She felt movement beside her on the bed and sat up on impulse, a hand flying to protectively clutch her stomach.

"Get back! Get back!" she spluttered hysterically. "Don't touch him!"

"It's just me! It's just me!" Fiyero said, hurriedly turning on a lamp. "It's me, Elphaba. You were having another nightmare."

"No! It was real! It was…"

Elphaba looked all about, eyes darting madly between the corners of the room, the curtains, the closet, convinced of an imminent ambush. But there was no one. Nothing.

"It…felt so real."

Fiyero touched her shoulder and Elphaba flinched, still jumpy.

"Sorry," Fiyero pulled his hand back.

Elphaba looked at Fiyero for a long moment and, as her instincts faded in her body, she sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"It was so vivid," she explained shakily. "And you know how my dreams can be…"

"Okay let's work it through like last time," Fiyero offered gently, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Was this a dream or an Elphaba dream?"

Elphaba closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It used to be so easy to tell the difference. Still, after a moment she determined that Fiyero was correct. The dream was fiction, not prophecy. Horrible, brutal, vibrant fiction…but fiction.

"It was just a dream," Elphaba determined softly.

"See?"

Elphaba swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, feeling restless. Needing to pace.

"These nightmares have been getting bad," Fiyero pointed out, though with sympathy. "They came out of nowhere."

Not quite out of nowhere, Elphaba neglected to correct him. Sheet lightning flashed across the floor from their window, followed by a growl of thunder.

"Oz, these storms chill me to the bone," Elphaba muttered. "I despise spring."

"Only you could hate spring, my love," Fiyero chuckled.

Elphaba didn't acknowledge him, she merely stopped pacing with a tired sigh and stared out the window towards the storm.

"Nessa loved spring," she said quietly. Fiyero lifted his eyes at the unexpected mention of Nessarose. "She loved it. Loved it, loved it. Winter was so terribly boring for her, cooped up in that house for months. I tried to make it fun but…nothing really helped. She'd get tired and unpleasant and so terribly unhappy. But then spring. Well. Spring would come and my Nessa…bloomed. Like the rest of the world, she just bloomed and brightened and became a whole new person."

Fiyero let Elphaba speak, surprised she brought up Nessarose. She so rarely did.

"Not the storms though…no, she hated the storms. On nights like this she'd just tremble and cry and cry. I'd hold her and rock her but nothing soothed her. It's funny when you think about it—how much she dreaded storms. It's like she somehow knew that one day they'd be her undoing."

"You never talk about her," Fiyero pointed out softly. "You can, you know."

Elphaba closed her eyes.

"It was my life's duty to look after her," Elphaba said. "And in the end I failed to save her. Whatever else is there to talk about?"

"You didn't fail, Elphaba."

"Nessa is dead, Fiyero!" Elphaba snapped, turning to face him. "That's the biggest failure there is. It's the biggest possible failure…when you've sworn to protect someone."

"But Nessa's life meant more than just her death—"

"Funny, coming from you," Elphaba scoffed. "Whatever happened to that philosophy of yours, anyway? It's just life this—we're all dust eventually, that. Now just look at you. Positively prospecting for meaning."

Fiyero considered his old beliefs.

"I didn't have anything to care about back then," Fiyero explained softly. "Not like I do now."

Elphaba rolled her eyes and turned back to the window, annoyed over his sincerity. Fiyero got out of bed and moved to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, his palms resting flat over the satiny nightgown that covered her growing belly. Elphaba sighed and relaxed against him, her tension no match for his tenderness.

"Does this talk about Nessa have anything to do with these dreams you've been having?"

Elphaba's throat tightened over Fiyero's astuteness. She hated how well he saw her.

"Burden me, Elphaba," Fiyero murmured. "What happens in these dreams?"

He had a horrible hunch…but he asked anyway.

"They're too terrible to speak aloud."

Fiyero could barely make out the reflection of Elphaba's haunted stare in the dark window.

"Okay," Fiyero accepted, his lips brushing against the side of her head. "But remember that they're not real, okay? We're safe here, Elphaba. There's nothing to fear."

Elphaba stilled.

"No. No…that is false," she shook her head. "Dream aside, Yero, there is still much to fear. So much to fear."

"We don't need to think about all that right now."

"Then when?" Elphaba asked quietly, turning to face him. "When do we think about it? You told me to burden you, Fiyero. When do we talk about it?"

"Not—" Fiyero sighed sharply, feeling on the spot. "Not here. Not in the middle of the night. There's still time."

"I'm over halfway through, Yero. He'll be here before we know it."

Fiyero gave Elphaba a long, hard look. She had dark circles under her eyes from her continually disrupted rest. He reached forward and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone.

"Are you going to try and get some more sleep?"

Elphaba sighed and rubbed her eyes. "No. No, I think I'm up for the long haul. But you go ahead…catch a few more hours."

"Too late," he shook his head. "I'm up too."

"You haven't been sleeping well either. I keep waking you every few hours with these nightmares."

"Exactly. We're in this together. Now what shall we do?" he asked, taking both of her hands.

"It's three in the morning. What is there to do at three in the morning?"

"Oh, my dear sweet Elphaba. What isn't there to do at three in the morning?" Fiyero grinned. "In college I rarely got home before five."

"We're very different people."

"And yet look at what we're capable of creating," Fiyero teased, caressing her pregnant stomach.

Despite herself, Elphaba chuckled tiredly.

"Lead the way, my prince."

Fiyero's first order of business after they dressed was coffee.

"And none of this Emerald City crap Glinda likes. Vinkun Coffee," Fiyero stressed, pulling the bag of coffee beans open for Elphaba to smell. "I convinced her to make a special trip for a bag. She agreed so long as I didn't make her touch the stuff."

"It smells divine," Elphaba sighed. "Did she bring any decaf?"

"Decaf doesn't exist in The Vinkus," Fiyero said before leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "But I won't tell Glinda if you don't."

A wicked smile crept onto Elphaba's face and she linked her arm with Fiyero's, nestling her head against his shoulder.

"I knew I loved you for a reason."

"Well you deserve a taste of the good stuff," Fiyero decided, kissing her head. "Just this once."

He prepared her a cup and looked at her expectantly as she sampled it.

"What do you think?"

"Were I normal Elphaba, this would be the most perfect cup of coffee I've ever tasted…"

"But pregnant Elphaba?" Fiyero caught her drift. She shrugged guiltily. "How many sugars would you like?"

"Five," Elphaba sighed. "Oh, it feels so wrong but Glinda got me hooked! And perhaps a cinnamon stick?"

"Normally I wouldn't dare tarnish Vinkun Coffee. But for you?" Fiyero sweetly pecked her lips. "I'll make whatever abominable concoction you desire."

Cups of coffee in tow, Fiyero and Elphaba wandered the halls together. Lightning flashed across the floor several times, but the mood was light. Occasionally Fiyero would pull Elphaba into a room or, to her delight, a secret passageway. There was one on the third floor that for the life of him he couldn't remember where to find. That was until he casually leaned against the wall to flirt with Elphaba and ended up falling through the secret door.

"A piano?" Elphaba pointed out as Fiyero showed her yet another drawing room in the castle. "You know I play, right?"

"You do not," Fiyero gaped. "Elphaba Thropp plays the piano?"

"A little. Nessa begged for lessons and I took them too," Elphaba explained, sitting at the bench and lifting the cover. "She quit after a week."

"Well now this I've got to see," Fiyero decided, crossing his arms over the piano and waiting for her to play.

Elphaba cracked her knuckles and set her fingers to the dusty, yellowed keys. She pressed down, intending to play a simple chord, and what came out was the most woefully out of tune mash of sounds that either of them had ever heard. Elphaba and Fiyero looked up at each other slowly before busting into a fit of laughter.

"I've got chills!" Fiyero teased, sitting on the piano bench beside Elphaba. "I hope the kid gets his mother's musical talent."

"Ah, yes! I'm getting a vision," Elphaba jested, uncharacteristically slap happy. "Our son will be a piano prodigy. I predict many sold out music halls."

Nearing dawn, Elphaba insisted on making a stop in the library to get a new supply of books for when she couldn't sleep.

"So many of these are in Vinkun…" she commented, tracing her fingers along the spines of a shelf of books. "I envy you, Fiyero. I've always longed to be multilingual."

"You read whatever the hell language The Grimmerie is in."

"Yes, but what good is knowing a lost language? Besides, it's less like reading and more like…feeling. It's more intuitive," Elphaba thought aloud. "I don't know how I can do it."

"You're just special."

Elphaba snorted. "And what I'd give to not be special. To be ordinary. I'd give damn near anything."

"Then you wouldn't be you."

"And what a blessing that would be."

Fiyero went quiet and Elphaba looked at him.

"I didn't mean that," she said. She thought for a moment. "Okay maybe I did. Is that so terrible? I can't help but wonder how things would be if I were born into a different time, different circumstances, a different family," Elphaba sighed, her hands absentmindedly smoothing over her stomach. "Though I suppose we hardly get a choice in such matters, do we?"

"No, we don't," Fiyero agreed. He paused for a moment and furrowed his brow. "You know what? I want to show you something."

He took her hand and led her to the far corner of the library where an impressive floor to ceiling tapestry was on display. As Elphaba looked closer she could see that it was an embroidered family tree of Fiyero's lineage. Her eyes drifted further and further up to the ceiling, craning her neck to behold centuries of Tigelaar legacy.

"Remarkable…"

"Yeah. That's us. Generation after generation of Tigelaars," Fiyero gestured down until the names bottlenecked to a single name. "And there's me."

"It's quite the visualization," Elphaba said. She looked at Fiyero whose eyes were still on the tapestry. "Quite a lot to live up to."

Fiyero shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. Elphaba narrowed her eyes and peered more closely at the tapestry, spotting something very lightly stitched beside Fiyero's name.

"Hold on…who the hell is Sarima?"

"They didn't really…" Fiyero leaned in to read. "They did. Oz, Sarima. I haven't thought about her in years."

"Do tell," Elphaba crossed her arms.

"She was my pre-selected bride," Fiyero grinned. "From the time we were children. My parents were a little over optimistic about how much I'd grow to like her. They only laid off the Sarima talk when I became serious with Glinda. Mom must have stitched this in years ago."

"Do you miss her?"

"Sarima? Nah, I barely knew her—"

"Your mother."

Fiyero paused over Elphaba's question. They'd both seen the articles in the papers Glinda brought, interviews with Fiyero's parents reacting to their only heir running off with a Wicked Witch. Becoming public enemy number two. Invading a Tigelaar Castle.

"I could teach you Vinkun, you know," Fiyero said, changing the subject. "Some, anyway. I'm a little rusty."

Elphaba sighed and nodded, deciding not to press him.

"I'd love that."

"Let's start off small—I'm not sure I could translate the dense ones right away," Fiyero said.

"Perhaps some children's books?" Elphaba offered, following Fiyero through the shelves.

"Ah! You're brilliant," Fiyero said, turning to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Right this way."

They found a small section of Vinkun picture books written for children and Fiyero began thumbing through them.

"It's your basic fairy tales. The Witch and The Fox Babies, Quadling Quacklings," he listed before coming upon a certain book. "Oh! I haven't thought of this one in forever. It's called—"

"The rain has stopped," Elphaba commented, squinting out of the dark library window. "I'm glad for it."

Fiyero looked up at Elphaba and, sensing restlessness in her, offered an idea.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?"

She turned. "Please."

They dropped off their collected books in their bedroom before Fiyero guided Elphaba up a set of tower steps.

"Watch your step, watch your step…" he said, protectively guiding her up the steep castle stairs with a hand ever present on her back. "These stairs get steep."

Elphaba, ordinarily jaded over his fussing, couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed as Fiyero assisted her so attentively. He opened the door to the top of the castle which gave way to a roof landing surrounded by a low turret. It provided a spectacular view towards the east. The morning smelled earthy and damp from the storm as they made their way towards the edge to take in the view.

"It's beautiful," Elphaba remarked, the first signs of sunrise barely pinkening the dark sky. "The Vinkus really is very beautiful."

"I think so. I barely wanted to leave it for college. Glad I did though."

"Why's that?" Elphaba asked.

"You see…" Fiyero took Elphaba's arm and guided it so that her finger pointed directly east. "I didn't know it at the time, but the love of my life was waiting for me waaaaaaaaay out there in Munchkinland."

Elphaba was charmed by him. She couldn't help it. She turned her head to kiss the side of his face.

"We met in Gillikin," she reminded him, crossing her arms over the low wall. "Not in Munchkinland."

"Oh shoot, really?" Fiyero teased. "I must have confused you with someone else."

Elphaba swatted at him with a smirk.

"Did you always want to come back here?"

"I think so," Fiyero said. Elphaba waited for him to elaborate. "There wasn't ever much choice in the matter. I was supposed to graduate, come home, get married, procreate, and rule The Vinkus."

"Hm," Elphaba nodded, drumming her fingers over her stomach. "Well…three out of five isn't so bad."

Fiyero counted in his head and chuckled. "No. Three out of five isn't bad."

"So how did you end up in The Emerald City, then? If it conflicted with the dynastic plan?"

"Oh, my parents' plans for me were no match for Glinda's," Fiyero grinned. "Besides…they weren't too bothered by it."

"Why's that?"

"Two reasons. Being matched with someone as respected as Glinda made me seem like less of a screw up, and if I lived in The Emerald City I wouldn't be their problem anymore."

Elphaba pursed her lips.

"Then I'm sure running off with The Wicked Witch sent you on a hard turn from their path for you."

She'd intended for her comment to be lighthearted, but the guilt in her voice was hard to hide. Fiyero quieted for a moment.

"You know…" Fiyero began "The Vinkus has an old superstition about fae folk. Have you heard much about them?"

Elphaba shook her head.

"They're magical beings that some feared to be evil. According to legend, fae folk would steal a Vinkun child and replace them with someone—or something—else. Something not quite right. A changeling," Fiyero explained. He paused for a moment of careful thought. "I was never really the son my parents wanted, you know? I didn't like school—didn't like Sarima. I had no sense of 'honor' or 'responsibility' as they'd so constantly remind me."

Fiyero turned his attention back out towards the horizon.

"No matter what I did, no matter who I was, I never fit into the vision they dreamed up for their heir. I was so far off from what they pictured—what they wanted—that sometimes it felt like it was easier for Mom to think that I was a changeling…rather than her actual son."

Elphaba, heart heavy, reached out to touch his arm.

"You know something, though?" Fiyero asked, turning to look at Elphaba. "No one ever thinks about whether the person is happier after getting taken. Like, maybe they're not getting stolen—but saved instead. All of that shit I see in the papers about you manipulating me or—or luring me away?" Fiyero scoffed. "Let Oz—let my parents think…whatever it is they think. For the first time in my life I don't care. I really just don't care."

Fiyero brushed the hair out of Elphaba's face with his fingers to get a good look at her.

"Because maybe they're right. Maybe I have been whisked away by a mysterious, magical being. But I have no desire to return. No desire to escape. No desire to go back to the life I knew…before she found me."

"I love you, Fiyero," Elphaba said softly.

"And I love you. My beautiful Fae."

They shared a tender, earnest kiss. When they pulled away there was a soft sadness in Fiyero's eyes that Elphaba was desperate to alleviate.

"Where would you go?" Elphaba asked. "Forget your parents, forget Glinda, forget the rest of Oz. If you were free to choose…where would you go?"

"Anywhere you are," Fiyero breathed.

"Okay, I'll come too," Elphaba promised, taking both of his hands and lacing their fingers. "Dream with me, Fiyero. Where shall we go?"

In the back of Elphaba's mind she could hear her usual warning alarm. Dreaming of things that could not be only ever ended with heartache. But she figured the risk was worth it for now if it would bring Fiyero joy…even temporarily.

"No limits?" Fiyero asked.

"No limits."

"I don't think anyone has ever asked me that."

"I'm asking."

"Well, I'm sure it may surprise the likes of you because I'm such a suave city slicker," Fiyero teased. "But I've had my fill of The City. Now I'm curious about the countryside."

"Munchkinland?"

"Oz, no," Fiyero scoffed. "No offense."

"None taken."

"No, somewhere out here in The Vinkus maybe. Near a town but far enough away for some…peace."

"Peace," Elphaba sighed longingly. "I like the sound of that."

Fiyero wrapped an arm around Elphaba's shoulder and tucked her into his side.

"Glinda could come visit—even the Monkeys," Fiyero chuckled. "I've gotten kind of used to them."

"I knew you would."

"And we'd just hang out and relax and…" Fiyero rubbed Elphaba's shoulder. "And we'd raise our boy."

Elphaba swallowed and turned to face him, winding her arms around Fiyero's neck.

"I can already picture the trouble father and son would get into," Elphaba said. "You'd let him get away with anything."

"You're probably right," Fiyero admitted. "But I'm sure his no-nonsense mother would put a stop to all that."

"I should have known you'd make me be the strict parent," Elphaba chuckled. "You always have to be the fun one, don't you?"

"Ah, but you'd be the wise parent, my love," Fiyero said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "The one he goes to when he needs advice. The one that cares for him when he's sick. The one to hug him when he cries."

Forbidden images began filtering into Elphaba's mind. Rocking a baby who was sound asleep against her chest. Fiyero checking in on them in a nursery. A little fist wrapped tight around her green finger…

"Did you ever want children, Fiyero?"

"It was always just expected that I would have them. Continue the bloodline and all that. Add another name to that damn tapestry. But I always felt like if I did have kids…they wouldn't belong to me. Not really. They'd belong to The Vinkus," he sighed. "Like I do."

"You don't belong to anyone besides yourself," Elphaba reminded him. "And to me, if it pleases you."

Fiyero smiled softly.

"It pleases me."

He paused for a moment and took a good long look at Elphaba. He admired the way she carried herself. The way she carried their son. He shook his head in soft wonder.

"Oz, Elphaba. You asked me if I wanted children. In general? No, I don't think I ever did. But…to have a child with you?" Fiyero stressed quietly. "I'm not sure I've ever wanted anything more."

"Fiyero…" Elphaba said, somewhat stunned by his sentiment.

Fiyero stepped towards her and placed one hand against her swollen stomach, using the other to tip her chin upwards so she'd meet his eyes.

"There's no one else it could have been to carry my son, Elphaba," Fiyero said seriously. "Not Sarima. Not even Glinda. There is no one else I'd rather have…be the mother of my child."

"You humble me, Fiyero," Elphaba breathed. "But I can't help but question your judgment."

"It's completely sound."

"Consider the genetics alone—"

"I don't care about—"

"What if he comes out green, Fiyero?"

Fiyero quieted and Elphaba sighed.

"I didn't mean to bring that up. I ruined a nice moment. I'm sorry for that. But oh, Fiyero. What if he does?" Elphaba fretted. "Sometimes I lie awake at night and worry for hours on end about what I might have inflicted on the poor boy. What I could have passed on. The fear, the hatred, the loneliness. I don't think I could bear the guilt, Yero. To subject an innocent baby…to my curse."

"It wouldn't be the same," Fiyero said.

"How can you say it wouldn't be the same? Who would accept this boy, who would—"

"We would, my love. You and me. Glinda too. We'd accept him, protect him, love him. All the things that you were owed, all the things you should have gotten. We can do it for him."

Elphaba looked at him for a long moment with equal parts appreciation and achiness.

"What is it?" Fiyero asked.

"Nothing. It's just…" Elphaba began. She pressed her fingers to lips as her throat seized. "You'd be such a wonderful father, Fiyero. The most wonderful, wonderful father."

"Only with you by my side."

"And that's all I want for him," Elphaba said seriously. "Our son. I want him to grow up safe, happy…loved."

"We'll make sure of that, my Fae," Fiyero assured her. "We will."

Elphaba bit her lower lip as if it could possibly withhold the truth. But reality had returned from its retreat and it demanded to be acknowledged.

"What if we can't?"

Elphaba's whispered phrase made Fiyero go still.

"What do you mean?"

"Fiyero we must talk about it," Elphaba urged gently. "We must face it eventually."

Fiyero let go of her.

"No. We can still work something out."

"But what if we can't, Yero?" Elphaba pleaded. She gestured out towards the horizon. "What if they don't let us? What if they won't let us have that cottage? That beautiful life you dreamed up for us? Fiyero…what if Oz won't let us raise our boy—"

"Stop it," Fiyero choked. He turned away from her but Elphaba still caught his reddened eyes. "I can't think about that right now. I just…can't."

Elphaba turned back towards the horizon. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it with a defeated sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Her good intention of making him smile had only brought him more pain. A special talent of hers, it seemed. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes.

That was when she felt it.

"Yero?" Elphaba called, her voice shaky with surprise. "Fiyero?"

Fiyero turned to see Elphaba's staggered expression, a hand flat over her stomach.

"What is it?" he asked, striding towards her. "Are you okay?"

"I felt him kick, Yero. Just now," Elphaba said. "I felt him."

"You did?"

"Yes…" Elphaba said. She stayed very still, waiting for it to happen again. "Oh."

Elphaba seized Fiyero's hand and placed it exactly where she felt the movement.

"There…I felt him move right there."

"I can't feel anything."

"Just wait…"

They stayed still for a moment before he moved again. Fiyero gasped and Elphaba emitted a single, awed laugh.

"See? I told you. Didn't I tell you?" she beamed. "Oh, Fiyero. It's the most bizarre—most breathtaking sensation."

"I can't believe it," Fiyero shook his head. "There's really a baby in there."

"There's really a baby in there."

Fiyero kissed Elphaba excitedly, not daring to move his hand in case he was able to feel anything more. Elphaba looked up at Fiyero in admiration, heart feeling full enough to burst.

"I want him to be like you," Elphaba said, putting her hand over his. "Our boy. I want him to be just like you."

"Not just like me."

"Why not?"

Fiyero scoffed. "You want him to be irresponsible? Brainless?"

"Irresponsible?" Elphaba laughed shortly. "Look at what you've done over the past six months. You've done nothing but stand by us, provide for us. And don't you revive that old brainless act now, Yero. Not with me. I didn't buy it back then and I certainly don't buy it now."

Elphaba guided Fiyero's chin so that he'd meet her eyes.

"No, my Fiyero. If our son ends up with half the wit, the charm, the courage of his father? The heart? The world won't ever be the same."

Fiyero took Elphaba's hand and pressed a doting kiss to it.

"I want him to be like you," Fiyero confessed. "I want him to be like his smart, talented, fearless mother."

Elphaba smiled sadly.

"What is it?"

"It's funny how I can still fool even you. I'm not fearless, Fiyero. Far from it," Elphaba shook her head. "I'm scared. I am so very, very…scared."

Fiyero pulled Elphaba against him, wrapping his arms around her. Around both of them.

"Hey…I'm not scared. Okay? I'm not scared," Fiyero said, rubbing Elphaba's back. "So, let me be brave for you, Elphaba. For all of us."

Elphaba turned her head to the side towards the sky, maintaining their embrace, and Fiyero rested his head on top of hers. They said nothing, holding each other with their baby tucked between them, as they watched the sun fully rise over the land that sought to destroy them.

Soon after sunrise Elphaba began to crash from her illicit caffeine. Fiyero helped her back to their room where she curled up on her side. Judging by her endearingly soft snores, she was sound asleep before he could even close all of the drapes. He was about to turn the light out and leave her to rest, but he paused upon spotting the stack of books they'd taken from the library. He sifted through the children's books until he found the one he sought.

An old tale he enjoyed as a child.

Fiyero looked at the book for a long moment before moving to lay beside Elphaba on the bed. He turned on his side towards her and shifted further down so that his face was eye level with her baby bump. Double checking first that Elphaba was indeed asleep, Fiyero rested a hand against her stomach.

"Hey son…" Fiyero whispered as he stroked Elphaba's belly with his thumb. "I lied to your mom earlier. I told her I wasn't scared…but I am. I'm terrified. I'm terrified because…because we aren't really sure what's going to happen."

Fiyero swallowed.

"But I don't want you to be scared, okay? You don't know this yet but your mother is the strongest, coolest, most incredible person ever. So no matter what happens, no matter what she and I have to do…we're going to take care of you. We're not going to let anything bad happen to you, kid. I promise. We're not going to let anyone hurt you."

Fiyero hesitated for a moment before reaching for the book.

"I used to like this story when I was a kid. It's about a boy who was born without any fear so no matter what came his way he wasn't afraid. I thought he was awesome. It made me—I don't know…" Fiyero shrugged. "Feel…braver? I know that sounds weird but it's true. If I was feeling lonely or scared I'd just pretend to be like him. Pretend that I wasn't scared or worried…about anything," Fiyero trailed off with a thoughtful frown. "And I actually got really good at it, too. Pretending."

Fiyero gave his head a small shake.

"But my point is…I have a feeling that you're going to be a really brave kid. I think…" Fiyero trailed off hoarsely. "I think you're going to have to be. So maybe this book can help you too, you know? Maybe you'll be like him—and even if you're not, that's okay too. Because I already know that you are going to be just the most…awesome person."

Fiyero peered up at Elphaba again who was still sound asleep.

"I have to admit I feel kind of dumb," Fiyero told the baby with an anxious chuckle. "Your mom is definitely more into books than I am. But she's asleep right now so…maybe you wouldn't mind if I read to you? Just this once?"

As if to answer his father, Fiyero felt the baby shift beneath his hand.

"Oh…" Fiyero exhaled. He nodded a few times, swallowing away the sudden sting of awed tears. "Wow. Yeah, okay. Okay, kid. I'll…take that as a yes."

Fiyero pressed a kiss to Elphaba's belly and situated himself before cracking open the tiny book from his childhood.

"Alright, here goes," Fiyero said before beginning to read to his boy. "This story is called…Liir Without Fear."