and to the children in the notes saying we need this fucking baby talk to get around censorship online; there's been no credible evidence that any site other that YouTube (which will only demonetize your video, ftr) will actually censor or hide content that include words like rape, pedophile, gun, terrorist, etc. etc. and even if we take as a given they were (which, again, they are not), do not fucking comply in advance, you absolute fucking coward. and ESPECIALLY do not comply by altering your real life fucking vocabulary. don't let the technocrats dictate what words you say holy fucking shit dude!!!!!!!!!!!!
New pic for upcoming major sewing project! Yes, I got taken in by the Gunne Sax reprint rush.
Lucked out- the Kona cotton (for the bodice) and the eyelet (for the skirt) were bought from an Ebay user for a really good price and are a perfect color match. Lace and ribbon are both from Etsy. The dotted swiss (for the sleeves) is from my own collection- it also matches scarily well.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Truly, Fiyero was having a hard go of it.
Melodramatic maybe, especially since he was quite happy about the whole situation, but still.
He hadn’t expected to be at Shiz any longer than any of his other schools. He expected things to happen just the way they always did. His poor grades and lackadaisical attitude toward curfew and rules would add one mark on top of the other. Maybe they would be enough eventually in themselves, if it went on long enough. And if not, someone would say something, or he’d get caught in something that may not have even been him or his idea. Or maybe it was, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe he still thought it was a good idea.
Fiyero remembers the third school, the time that his father had point blank asked him if he was trying to get thrown out. That one had hurt, but he knew it would happen again whether he tried or not. None the smarter and no richer in true friends. That’s what had always happened before, and he had not felt any particularly strong reason to try and stop it.
But then…
Shiz. Elphaba, that very first night. He’d never met a girl like her before, never met anyone like her really, and not just the greenness of her skin or the fact that he couldn’t immediately charm her.
(He thought that said good things about her character, that his patented princely charm did nothing for her).
He found her…interesting. Fascinating even. And somehow this interest, managed to end up giving him the closest friend group he’d ever had. Galinda may have been an obvious pick, but he can’t imagine actually being her friend if Elphaba hadn’t come attached. Most likely their farce of a relationship would have continued without even a hint of anything real. Without Elphaba, would he have bothered to befriend Nessarose, the quiet and serious girl who seemed to like him, but also seemed to be just as immune to his charms as her sister? Without Nessarose, would Boq have had the courage to befriend the roommate he often seemed intimidated by? Fiyero had never had a circle of friends before.
All of this, and Elphaba too, who as time went on was beginning to make his heart thud in a manner he had long thought fiction.
And he was suddenly very invested in not getting kicked out of Shiz. He even found himself actually studying.
This is what’s on his mind the day he’s preparing to sneak the Lion cub south to meet his sister. He’s hitched Feldspur to a tree a few paces away, so he can bring him to meet him slowly.
“I know it’s better for him,” Elphaba comments, breaking through his chaotic thoughts, “but I’m going to worry not knowing what’s going to happen to him.”
And Fiyero agrees, but doesn’t tell her this. It’s nothing that can be helped. The Lion will be better off with other Lions and the longer they keep him here, the higher the chance of consequences for all three of them. He knows Elphaba knows this.
He tightens his pack on his shoulder and prepares to guide the Lion to meet Feldspur, not wanting to spook him.
Elphaba’s face is still a bit anxious. He swallows and offers a “Make sure to keep up on my schoolwork,” as a way of farewell, and this makes her smile, if a tiny one. That’s enough. A friendly pat to the shoulder is also enough. It has to be for now. He tries not to think that her skin is warm.
He’s struck by the desire to kiss her goodbye. That’s not strange really, it’s happened before. Though admittedly, it had always been rather vague, more a desire to be kissed than to kiss a specific person. But it’s accompanied by something new. He thinks Elphaba would like to meet his sister, Illyanora. He thinks they would get along and he would like to introduce them. He’s never had the urge to introduce any of his dates, or any of his friends even, to his family.
That scares him a little. He learned very early that it was best to keep his heritage close to his chest. The rest of Oz had their own ideas about what it meant to be a prince, what it meant to Vinkun and he let them. No use in correcting them.
At least he’s not the only one a little scared. The cub- he’s bigger than a cub now too- shakes when he meets Feldspur, shakes every time they stop to catch their breath, shakes when Fiyero pulls him onto the saddle with him so he can rest, and shakes when they meet their destination hours later, as the evening sun is setting.
One of the other Lions comments that as much as he shakes, maybe thought ought to start calling him Brr. Fiyero doesn’t think that’s a good name, but given that Elphaba and him couldn’t come up with a better one, it might stick. The pride here lives on the outskirts of a large town, in dwellings they’ve built up themselves, most still living a bit wild though many work normal jobs to support them.
It will be safer if anything worse happens to the Animals in Oz, Fiyero hears Elphaba’s voice saying in his ear. Safer if he’s with others who already know how to get by without people.
Illy assures him that her Biological science class does field work out here, so she’ll be able to check in now and then. The two of them have stopped to eat supper before Fiyero needs to return to campus, planning to ride at night to avoid being seen, and so he won’t be gone longer than he needed to be.
Illy raises an eyebrow at that, at him worrying about being missed at school.
Fiyero is sheepish. She’s his favorite sister and he can’t hide from her, he never could. She was his only sibling who understood him.
“Yes, and it is a girl.”
“That’s not new,” Illy comments, “There’s been girls and boys the same that you go about with but never one that made you care about school. Is she special?”
She is, but Fiyero wants to keep her to himself for a little while longer. So he changes the subject to how school is going for Illy that year, and whether or not he’s going home for Lurlinemas (he’s not sure yet).
While he and Feldpur return to campus, Fiyero reflects that thinking of Elphaba that way is rather ridiculous. She wasn’t his, even in the metaphorical sense. She belonged to no one, and he suspects she might not even appreciate the metaphor.
And really, he’s more than a little clueless as to what to do about it.
He hates to admit that he’s never had to actually be the one to express interest in someone before, people have always come to him. He watches Galinda with Elphaba from a distance, with Galinda trying to not pay him even a bit of nevermind, trying to move on just like him. She seems almost as clueless about this as he feels.
He almost asks her advice, but he suspects that Galinda advice will not help when it comes to Elphaba. She wouldn’t much appreciate comments on her appearance, in fact he suspects she would misconstrue them. Flowers are a possibility, but seem a bit forward at this point. He’s almost considering the schoolyard possibility of a punch in the arm then running back to his mates.
Because Elphaba is truly not like any girl he’s met before. He’s not certain what sort of gesture she would appreciate. He knows that his other go-to, acting the clown to make people pay attention to him, will also not work. In fact it actually seemed to make her deliberately pay less attention to him in an attempt to make him stop.
Truthfully, he finds annoying her kind of fun, but it’s not what he wants now.
He finds at least part of an answer to his conundrum one day when the whole group of them are in the poppy fields.
Out here, the whole group had surrounded him while he told them about what had happened to the Lion cub. After they were finished, the group shifted a bit as it tended to, Boq and Nessa to one side themselves, and Galinda finding her self closer to them in order to keep herself a little distance from him, but bridging the gap, and Elphaba on her other side, doing her best to stuff what they are supposed to be learning about Biology into his head.
She’s rambling about how the taxonomy of Species really is quite simple in that tone that she thinks he is the one who is really quite simple for needing it explained to him, and he clears his throat, she looks up, and he asks.
“Elphaba,” he says simply, “I don’t get it. Please help me get it.”
And with his words, her tone softens. That made sense, he thought. That she responded so well to sincerity. It’s obvious he thinks, but in his experience, people frequently did not want it.
One day, he decides to just get it over with, and after an especially long and (clearly to her, infuriating. She’s still fuming) history lecture, he asks.
“I need to clear my head. Fancy heading off campus to get a coffee?”
It’s casual, which he assumes is good. And Elphaba is a fan of coffee, tea and all sorts of caffeinated beverages that power her ability to have her nose in a book for longer.
She smiles, and his heart leaps and she says, “That’s a good idea.”
Fiyero just about feels himself start floating, when she turns and calls over her shoulder.
“Galinda, come one, we’re getting coffee!”
Oh. Too casual maybe. That’s a wrinkle he didn’t expect. While they are at the table in the coffeeshop, Fiyero studies Elphaba’s expression looking through her notes, and idly wonders if anyone has ever asked her out before.
He admits defeat at this point and decides he needs to call for aid. Eyeing Galinda carefully blowing at her drink to cool it off, he pushes that thought away again.
And so he flails about for another option.
He finds Boq and Nessa helping set up decorations at an event they’re assisting with for the Shiz Unionist Society at the chapel. He knows Elphaba doesn’t have a religious bone in her body and wouldn’t be caught dead here, so that’s a bonus.
“Fiyero!” Nessarose calls out when she sees him, from where she’s trying to hang a banner, “Hold this for me will you?” she asks, which he does as she carefully stands, bracing her hand on the wall and using the other one to stick the pin in the fabric (ah, she must need the wall to balance, but needs two hands for the task). She adjusts the banner before sitting back down with an “oof”.
“Thanks,” she tells him, “Sometimes I really need a third hand…so why’d you come by? Are you interested in the teachings of the Unnamed God?”
Fiyero coughs, not wanting to get into a discussion about his deeply held agnosticism.
“It’s not that-” Nessa’s face falls, but she still looks upbeat. There’s a table with some chairs beside them, so he pulls one out and sits in it so he won’t stumble. He’s kind of glad it’s only her and Boq is on the other side of the room setting up the punch bowl.
“I want to ask your sister out,” Nessa jerks her head to face him, “and I’m not sure how to go about it.”
Nessarose is quiet for a moment, her smile gone and eyes steely, her expression changed on a dime,
“Fiyero that’s mean,” she says quietly, “Elphaba may be weird but she still has feelings. You shouldn’t play a joke on her like this.”
For the first time in his life, Fiyero finds himself without words. All he can do is blink several times, hoping Nessarose’s words will begin to make more sense somehow.
“...it’s not a joke…” he finally manages. Nessa’s face does not change.
“Right,” she says, her voice even, “You just decided Galinda wasn’t good enough for you and what you really wanted was a stalk of asparagus on your arm.”
Fiyero finds himself without words again. He thinks Nessa’s the one being mean now, that last bit was way beyond being worried for her sister’s feelings. And she could be rather…rigid some of the time, but he would have never taken her for cruelty.
“I thought better of you,” she continues, “And she’ll probably say no anyway, no one’s ever asked her out before. She’ll see right through your trick.”
Well…at least that was a bit of the information that he had wanted. It gives him something more than he had before, in addition to his indignation.
He rolls the issue around in his head for the next few hours, and he likely would have given it even more time if he had not been knocked down by the storm that was Galinda later that very same day.
It was after dinner, and he was just walking back to his dorm, when she approached him, in a rather harried manner, and backed him into the wall. And she looked furious, but somehow serene about it. He’d never seen her look like that before.
“I have to say Tigelaar,” she began sweetly. He’s never heard her use his surname either, “I reviewed all of the gossip published in the Shiz Gazette before you arrived-” Fiyero restrains from commenting that most of it was probably claptrap anyway, “- and none of it suggested you were a practical joker.”
Ahh.
“Good to know Nessarose can’t keep things to herself,” he mutters, but Galinda seems undeterred.
“-and it’s really very unbecoming. I don’t know if you just feel the need to prove something to people- or, or, if you want to get back at me somehow-”
Fiyero blinks and sighs internally. Oh Galinda, self-absorbed as she certainly could be.
“...that’s not what it’s about-” he insists, barely able to get a word in edgewise.
“But she’s my best friend, so kindly leave her out of it, you…” Galinda trails off slightly when he speaks, and he takes his opening.
“I want to ask Elphaba out, because I want to ask her out. I thought Nessa might have some advice on how I should do it, but she jumped down my throat immediately…”
Galinda’s frozen, but still has an expression like she feels like she should be yelling.
“...you want to ask Elphaba out? My roommate Elphaba Thropp, intellectually brilliant, socially reticent and rather green?”
He was filing that away in his head. He wonders if Elphaba was aware that Galinda would describe her as such. But there’s more important things to address. He swallows before responding,
“Yes.”
Galinda continues, her face softer, but still not quite believing.
“And you’re not doing this for a laugh, or to hurt her feelings in any way?”
Fiyero feels a twinge in his chest at the thought. From Nessa’s reaction, he can’t help but wonder if some Munchkin boy had tried that at some point, approaching Elphaba only to laugh and run back to his friends, knowing she had no recourse.
He decides to jump in. Maybe Galinda will have better advice for him than he expects.
“And I just- I know she’s used to people laughing at her. I tried to keep it casual, but she didn’t realize what I meant-”
“She didn’t?”
“-being that she immediately invited you along too, I don’t think so- I mean, unless she actually doesn’t like me at all and wanted to let me down easy. Has she said anything of that nature to you?”
That thought had been in the back of his head. Though Fiyero had never really experienced rejection, he knew it was a possibility, and if Elphaba wasn’t swayed by the charm offensive, that made it somewhat more likely.
Galinda’s face has turned thoughtful, though still pulled tight like a muscle that she expects to have to use very soon.
“She has not. She sometimes complains about you being annoying, but it’s always in a…rather fond way. Last year I might have thought it was for my benefit but…”
Fiyero beams. Fond was a very good one to hope for.
“So you think she might say yes? Any advice?”
Galinda’s face stays thoughtful, her mouth pursed, her eyelashes low. Her posture remains somewhat guarded. Fiyero’s heart flutters. That was the other reason he’d resisted asking her about this. He truly hadn’t wanted to cause Galinda any pain, he did consider her a friend, and while she had been truly putting on a good show of it, he knew there had to be at least a little resentment or hurt underneath, she was only human after all.
After a long minute, she responds.
“Well, the Harvest moon dance is next week in town…”
Fiyero frowns. He knew this, it was that point in autumn. It was a big event, everyone at Shiz was planning to go, curfew was even being relaxed that day.
“With the masquerade? Elphaba doesn’t really seem like the type-”
“She is not. She has told me twice she has no intention of going, even when I offered to help her pick her costume and mask-”
Ah good, he doubts even pointing out that she could wear a mask would go over well.
“What I was going to suggest, was since basically everyone is going to be at the dance, that you should pack a picnic and take her to watch the moon rise from the poppy fields.”
Fiyero rolls the thought around in his head.
“Is that not…awfully private? I thought something public might make her feel more comfortable…”
“Fiyero, Elphaba’s my best friend. I regaled her with every detail of our romance last year- including that despite what the papers said about you that you were a perfect gentleman. I’m fairly sure she’s not going to worry that you’re going to jump her bones as soon as you’re alone. Besides-”
Her face is now almost painfully earnest. This is the Galinda that Fiyero actually likes, the one underneath the face she showed to the world.
“Private or privatish might be better. If this goes well, and the two of you actually start-”
Almost imperceptibly, her words stumble.
“Seeing each other regularly, other people are going to see you, and will say things- both to you and behind your back. Elphaba might need some time to get used to that.”
Fiyero…hadn’t really thought about that.
“She’s used to being stared at and used to always getting attention of the negative sort. There will be more of that and she’s going to have to adjust.”
And with that, Galinda turns to retreat. Fiyero calls after her.
“Galinda- please don’t tell her, give me a chance first.”
She pauses, still looking away from where he stands.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t.”
And she leaves before he can say anything else.
He thinks for a day or two about what Galinda had said. He hadn’t really thought about what him and Elphaba dating might mean for how the rest of the students at Shiz treated her. He should have. He’s still not sure what to do with it- but if things go well, he’ll talk to her about how she feels about it. They can do that, talk about things. He’d been looking forward to it actually.
And so, he gathers his thoughts, and smooths down his hair.
In one of the hallways leading off of the mess hall and to the individual dormitory halls, there are several cut outs in the wall, to open up the space and allow proper natural light to come through, Galinda had once told him. The cut outs are more than wide enough for a person to sit in comfortably, with their backs to one side. This was a common place to find Elphaba when she simply wanted to read and didn’t need the extra space the library desks and tables allowed.
And the hallway was quiet now as it was almost late.
“That’s not for class is it?” Fiyero begins when he approaches her, as she looks up from her book. He takes his spot opposite her in the cut out, back to the other wall. They’re close enough that their feet would touch if they both extended their legs, but they don’t.
“No, it’s just an old adventure novel I’ve been meaning to get around to reading,” she tells him, putting in a bookmark and resting it on her lap.
He nods, and is quiet for a few minutes. Lets the hallway empty out all the way.
“So the Harvest Moon dance is next week…”
Elphaba slumps.
“Did Galinda put you up to this? I told her I’m not interested in putting on a ridiculous…”
“No-” Fiyero cuts her off, “I was thinking, the view of the moon should be really beautiful from the poppy fields. I was thinking of packing a picnic and heading out there to watch. I wanted to know if you would come with me?”
Elphaba’s upper lip twitches into a smirk.
“I know you’re a little behind in chemistry, but if the moon’s out it’s going to be pretty hard to study…”
He doesn’t want to cut her off again, he knows that annoys her, but he wants to get a word in edgewise.
“No.” another swallows, “I wanted, I wanted to take you out,” a pause, to first let his words sink, “Just you. And I thought you might enjoy spending time watching the moon rise with me instead of having to be in the middle of your classmates with them watching you while I try to convince you to dance.”
His words sink in, and her lip twitches again.
“Is this a joke?” she asks, her voice very flat, yet somehow with an edge.
Well, if there was any question in his mind that she and Nessarose were definitely related. He chuckles, not too loudly. He does his best to cast off his airs, to be as much himself as he had been able to be in the forest with the cub. To convince her of his sincerity as he had managed there.
“Elphaba, I may not have learned as much as I should have this past year,” self-deprecating, that was a good choice maybe? “But I have picked up on acting like a fool will not make you pay attention to me.”
He looks her in the eye, even though she’s trying to avoid it, and gives her a bit of time.
“I just want to spend some time with you,” he says quietly.
There’s a long pause.
“Alright,” another pause, “Do I need to like…”
Fiyero shakes his head.
“I asked, so I plan. I’ll come by your dorm once people start leaving for the dance. No one will even notice.”
He stands, and has to use every ounce of self-control he would have once claimed he lacked not to reach out and take her hand. Too much, too soon, he knows.
“It’s a date then?” he says, voice light. He doesn’t want there to be any confusion at all.
And after what seems like forever, she nods, her eyes wide and face serious.
He beams. It takes all his strength not to let the joy burst out of him. He then takes his pack and turns to return to his dorm.
And when he leaves, he misses seeing Elphaba set her book to the side, and fold her legs until her knees touch her chest. She wraps her arms around them, and hugs them to herself, and lets herself smile, just a little.
Episode 9 felt like it had a short, mildly comedic subplot with Jay-Den and Tarima before they got caught, but it all got deleted.
Is this me just wanting to see how these two might interact? Maybe
Actually all of the Caleb/SAM we got reminded me: I want lots of fun character mixups next season. I want this bunch to turn into that one tabletop scene from the Community episode Romantic Expressionism AND the fact that Community could have worked a storyline with any character pairup
Just putting it out there that a legacy follow up novel about Felicity could do a lot to address the problematic elements in her story *if Mattel chose to do that* *it could make her marketable again guys*
Surprise crossover leading into a sequel at the end here- if you prefer to think of this story as a standalone just stop at the double **
Segments of this story inspired by Raw-Doggy's supercute Liircrow fanart
The Winkie book is, if possible, even worse than Forbidden Corn, and laughing and poking holes in its depiction of Fiyero’s home carries the pair straight into the next year.
Ev is a desert, but winter still comes. While the sky frequently stays clear during the day, no signs of the downpours or snowstorms common to Ozian winters, it still becomes terrifically cold, especially at night.
Fiyero doesn’t suffer much for it, but Elphaba frequently hunches over the fire, keeping him away. At night, in bed and wrapping himself around her as tightly as he can, he comments,
“I wish I could still keep you warm,”
And in the tone of mild, but shared bitterness she agrees.
“I wish you could too.”
On the coldest nights, Fiyero tells her about the Vinkus, how it could get bitterly cold but that fires were expected and gatherings practically prescribed to get its people through the coldest months. The stories bring the winter to life, and carries the two of them through it.
But, spring comes and life, as they say, goes on.
Elphaba’s work at the apothecary merits praise, and the rumors of her magical skill have spread enough that an occasional person with little money approaches asking for a charm or something of the sort.
(Magic, it seems, is more common in Ev than it had been in Oz. Common enough that practitioners who make it their livelihood have to charge more than a lowly shop assistant).
Fiyero replants their garden as the temperature rises, with vegetable familiar and un, as well as a growing variety of flowers. A few times, he spots eyes peering at him over the fence. But he knows how to put little spies to work, having them bring him tools or drag things that are a bit much for his scarecrow limbs.
They aren’t strong, but his scarecrow hands have enough grace for him to retake the pencil and brush well enough. He fights for it in a manner he had never given to any scholarly pursuit.
Elphaba sits for him, after a bit of discussion, dressed in her undergarments. Aside from regaining a skill he had thought lost, Fiyero also takes the time to appreciate getting to lecherously stare at her form, under the guise of aesthetic appreciation.
“Are you drawing me or trying to turn me on,” Elphaba offers sarcastically when she spots him staring, from where she lays on her front, knees bent and night dress pooling dangerously high on her hips, feet in the air, a book open in front of her.
“Both,” he replies with a smirk.
This might help explain why it ends up being during these sessions that Elphaba begins to add to their list, with things they can think on.
“So we’ve agreed that we’re both fine with light restraints,” Elphaba says, touching the pen to her lips. It’s a funny look being she’s only wearing her knickers this time, cross-legged with the notepad in her lap. “What about roleplay?”
Fiyero glances up from where he’s sketching her knees.
“Could be fun, though it depends on what the role being played is.”
“What about blindfolds or gags?”
“The first is fine, not sure about the second.”
He’s not sure about her treating this as a checklist either, but understands that it’s how her mind words. He’d certainly never thought of sex as something that should be…categorized. Call him a romantic again, but he thought these things should just come up naturally.
“Not eager for an excuse to shut me up?”
Fiyero leans over to kiss her once.
“I don’t need tools to shut you up, my love.”
And he returns to his pencil. Elphaba keeps scratching at the paper with her pen.
“Anal?”
“Me or you?”
That gets an eyebrow raised, and he chuckles.
“It’s an important distinction…I’m fine with either if you wanted to try, though I don’t think I would ask for it myself either way, so up to you if you want to add it.”
Her pen scratches again.
“It’s going down as ‘maybe in ten years when we’re really bored’”.
Fiyero’s offended at the thought of being bored with sex, especially with her, but he is pleased that she’s expecting to be stuck with him still that far down the road.
This occurs over a couple of nights, and the next one on the list, which she brings up when sprawled on her back, is asked in a much quieter and more thoughtful voice.
“Would you ever want to bring someone else into bed with us?”
There’s a moment of silence, silence for thought. Fiyero knows the salacious appeal of variety, and also the romantic legends of the perfect triangles. He’s never thought himself prudish at all, but he can’t help but…
“My brain, whatever remains, says ‘why not’, my heart says no,” is how Fiyero puts it.
“My brain and heart both say they can’t imagine trusting anyone else as much as I trust you.”
Fiyero glows inside at her words, but also feels the dark ghost of Oz, the ghost of could have been, and shakes it off. There’s no use lingering. He tries to bring Elphaba back too, so he brings her back to a thought he had a couple of topics on her list ago, but never really saw an opening to bring up.
“Could I convince you to wear my old Gale Force jacket?”
Elphaba snickers. “Why, it’s ugly.”
“I was more thinking…with nothing else underneath.”
Elphaba pauses her pen at that, and sits up. Her face is…faking innocence. That’s new for her.
“You know, if you’d remember to clean that thing off, there’s nothing to stop me doing that now.”
He remembers quickly. Truly, Fiyero considers the uniform jacket a mark of shame, and had been grateful to cast it aside along with the rest of his uniform for a nondescript shirt and pants over his straw body. But he still swells with joy when Elphaba pulls the green and gold sleeves over her arms.
“I feel silly,” she admits. It’s almost comically long on her, it’s wrists well below her own and its hem hanging down well past her bottom.
“You look beautiful.”
Elphaba feels her face color.
“Do you want me to, like, pretend anything…”
He shakes his head, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“I just love seeing you wear my clothes.”
She blushes so fiercely she can feel the color reaching even the very tip of her nose. When Fiyero leans down to capture her mouth, she slows him with a hand on the chest.
“Could you use the toy tonight?”
She keeps the jacket on in bed, sliding it up over her hips as Fiyero arranges himself behind her, leaning over her shoulder and pressing his nose into her neck. He caresses her generous hips with one hand and helps her hold her thigh up with the other while he plunges the toy deep into her from behind with all the fierceness he can muster. Which isn’t much, but from the increasingly desperate and high pitched noises Elphaba is making, it seems sufficient.
(Being stuffed with straw he is spared whatever physical discomfort bending this deeply in this position might bring him normally, maybe even ease a little bit it might cause her. He knows she was kidding when threatening to use him as a mattress, but he'd be happy to cushion any part of her).
Afterwards, she tells him,
“A preemptive no if you ever find the hat.”
He had not even considered the hat, and hopes that it’s rotting wherever it has been lost. Wearing it had made him feel like an even bigger knob than the rest of the uniform.
Eventually, Elphaba trails off on things to add to the list, and it simply sits tantalizingly on the nightstand under whatever book they’re reading at that moment, in case of any sudden inspiration.
The seasons continue to turn, and the garden Fiyero has planted grows and blooms under the hot desert sun. Maybe it uses too much water, which is watched over closely in Ev owing to its preciousness, but it feeds Elphaba, feeds them both in different ways, so Fiyero finds it worthwhile.
When the flowers are in full bloom, one of the little girls nearby who is a frequent fence spy is once again staring over the yard fence at him, so he beckons her over.
“Help me pick out the flowers that are prettiest,” he asks her, “I want a bouquet to take when I pick up my wife at work.”
His brain stutters over the word ‘wife’, but it slides off his tongue with ease he could never have expected. And it stays with him.
(He takes the flowers when he meets Elphaba at the apothecary at the end of the day and they make her beam).
The thought carries throughout when they reach the cottage and she’s cooking soup for her own supper. She’s stirring the pot with a wooden spoon when he finally gets the courage to ask. He reaches out to touch her arm, and she stills, a questioning look on her face.
“When people ask, can I call you my wife?”
She freezes, and looks up at him, her eyes wide and round, and he’s taken aback. He knows what Elphaba’s childhood was like, how people treated her. He knows that despite this, despite every excuse she has, that she is far from a shrinking violet. She did not shrink from disdain, she scorned it, defied it, or at least did her best to ignore it. Even in bed, an area where she had lacked experience and was self-admittedly a bit nervous, she had never looked…shy. But that is how she looks now.
And that this question made her look that way makes Fiyero’s heart leap into his throat.
But eventually, she speaks.
“If you’d like.”
And that lights him up and fills him with joy. He can resist wrapping her in his arms so tight he picks her up a few inches off the floor, impressive with his scarecrow strength really, and kissing her hard on the forehead despite her yelp when it causes her to drop the spoon in the soup.
And while her response had been somewhat subdued, later on he can see the change in her. When they prepare for bed, she kisses him fiercely, squeezing his shoulders tight between her hands, hard enough that he can feel his straw being squished, dotting yet more kisses up and down his hairline and ears, giggling at the ticklish scrape of his straw “hair”.
When he reaches under the edge of the bed for the little carved wooden box they keep the toy in, she bats his hand away and pulls it back towards her, where it finds a spot instead on her breast.
“Not tonight,” she tells him with a little private smile, “I just want to feel you.”
And that night, despite her eagerness, neither of them seem to be craving much other than warmth and kisses and soft touches. He thinks he even hears her whisper the word “husband” into his ear.
It’s with a chuckle later on that it occurs to Fiyero that what they did that night might not even be considered sex, at least not by the sort of people who cared where that line lay, but as Elphaba watched him as he hovered above her and let him call her his, that he had never once in his life felt more loved.
Winter comes again, with its cold blue skies. When what would be called Lurlinemas back in their home country comes, Fiyero presents Elphaba with a project he’s been working on- a ring carved out of hard wood with flowers carved into its flat sides. It won’t last, there’s a reason wood isn’t a popular choice for jewelry but it’s a symbol. And when Elphaba slides it onto her finger, Fiyero knows what it symbolizes will last longer than any material put upon this earth.
Winter comes and goes, and when spring returns and the flowers begin to bloom again, Fiyero finds his imagination blooming as well. Some days after pulling weeds, he sits out in the yard with his sketchbook and paints as Ev goes by. Their neighbors on either side don’t even give him side-eye anymore. Some of the children, more grown now, even call out his name.
(The population has in fact, gotten used to the two of them to such an extent that Elphaba has agreed to attend such public, social events as craft fairs and festivals, and the two of them even go to the pub at the far end of lane once a week or so, though the waitresses have all noticed Fiyero neither eats nor drinks and often threaten to throw him out for taking up a seat. They’re joking. He hopes).
It is in fact one of those evenings, while they were preparing to go down to the pub (there’s a group of musicians playing) that Fiyero notices Elphaba thumbing through his sketchbook, eyes seemingly transfixed on a particular picture. It’s sitting on the table where he had left it.
“What are-”
He stops short. He hadn’t thought- he’d never hidden his art from Elphaba but she hadn’t seemed terribly interested in it except appreciating the enjoyment that it brought him. Her finger is frozen along the drawing he had done in colored pencil, of a young boy with green skin and sun-golden hair, sprouted all over with flowers. He looks like nothing more, Fiyero realizes, than a faerie child from one of Elphaba’s books, a changeling left in place of a human baby.
And he finds that when she looks at him, that he cannot say a word.
Finally, after a long period of silence, Elphaba murmurs.
“He’s beautiful.”
And though his throat is still very dry, Fiyero replies.
“I couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t be.”
There’s another, long, pregnant silence. Now that was a turn of phrase.
“When we were escaping across the desert,” he continues, “I wondered a few times if we, back in the forest…”
“The thought crossed my mind too,” Elphaba admits, one hand idly resting on her stomach, “But my cycles continued, even during that period where we had to pick which days not to eat.”
Those were dark days, days that Fiyero had been pleased to not be an additional burden on her. Thankfully, they had found others with enough ease. Far too many refugees were still fleeing Oz. And after…sometimes his imagination ran wild, and he thought of what it would be like if he and Elphaba had been able to have a baby that was theirs, that looked like the both of them.
They’ve both sat down at the table. They’re not going out right now, neither of them has to say it. Maybe not even tonight, this is a heavy haze.
Eventually, Elphaba breaks the silence.
“Is that something you wanted? Something that…something else that my spell stole from you?”
Fiyero had never expended much of his limited brainpower on the real possibility of him being a father. True, he’d spent more thought than most anyone would expect of him in his youth figuring out how to avoid the risk of it, and he knew in the future having heirs would have been expected of him, being a prince and all, but he’d never really considered the reality.
But he did like children, he always had. Children were fun. He recalls hearing his old nanny recalling that when his siblings were young, he would carry them around like dolls and could always be counted on to help her raise them from naps.
And in this little house, in a quiet city with food and schools with no war or danger…it seemed a much nicer idea. No royal expectations to lay on a child’s shoulders either.
But still.
“What about you?” he retorts, “Forget about my opinion, did you ever want children?”
And a ghost passes over Elphaba’s face. That’s sort of what he expected. She holds her face in her hands.
“Oz above, I never thought the possibility would even be an issue. And I’m not good with children, you’ve seen-”
This is true, while Fiyero always had a witty retort or other way to trip up or send away the children staring at them over fences, Elphaba could never do more than snap or stare back.
“- what would I even know about being a mother? It’s not like I had an example for very long…and then add in the chance of the child turning out like me…”
She tugs at the bottom of her dress. Fiyero opens his mouth to reply that he didn’t care, in fact, he hoped any child of theirs looked just like her-
“...I wouldn’t know how to help them, how to make it not hurt because I don’t know how to make it not hurt me,” She pauses, and takes a very deep breath before continuing. “...but here?”
She looks around the cottage, and at Fiyero in front of her.
“...sometimes I think about it. I wonder if I could give a child a better start in life than the one I had.”
And Fiyero takes a moment to take in the warmth of the sharing that he knows must be hard for her, after a lifetime of pretending that words didn’t wound her.
And then he continues.
“Then it was stolen from both of us, not just from me. And…maybe it doesn’t have to be.”
Elphaba raises an eyebrow and he laughs.
“You know as well as I do that there are far too many children out there who aren’t wanted. If we…if time goes on, and the both of us decide this is something we really want and not just something we like to idly imagine, we could give a home to one of them.”
Elphaba’s smiling, and it’s soft and fond.
“I think I’d like that, a lot actually.”
And Fiyero responds, in a tone rather more serious than he’d ever been prone to,
“It would be better even. Because it would be something we chose.”
And there needs to be no more talk, because that’s a decision not for right now. Elphaba stands and tugs his hand.
“Come on, we might have missed dinner, but I think we can get there in time for a drink and some of the music at least.”
And they do. The violins are jumping that night, and Fiyero muses, pleased on the fact that he knows such social things are not Elphaba’s favorite, but that she has taken to doing them regardless just because she knows that he enjoys them so.
They walk home hand in hand when the moon is high in the sky.
In bed that night, Fiyero runs his gloved hands along her front, along her breasts and belly, and lets himself imagine that her magic would allow it. That even if her magic could never turn him back, that it would allow them this. That what always allowed life in the stories that had brought her joy and comfort most of her life would allow her body to bring life, to swell with it. He tries not to linger, but once again, Elphaba catches him staring.
“It’s okay to pretend,” she assures him, “I pretend too.”
And for these moments, they share in that.
**
Months later, when Autumn is in Ev, if nearly invisible not for the swell of garden harvest, something else happens that derails any future plans they had made, or even thought about making.
Elphaba’s behind the apothecary counter, checking the account book. Fiyero’s somewhere about the shop, puttering around until she’s off. There’s a new restaurant a few streets over, opened by a fugitive Tiger from Oz that they want to try.
She feels the warmth and shadow of the approach of a customer to the counter and puts the book aside, but doesn’t raise her head until she hears the alarmed yelp.
She sighs. The young man, perhaps in his early twenties, with the odd golden hair, must not be from around here. It’s been ages in this neighborhood since any of the regulars responded to her with more than a strange look, and tourists do not come in here basically ever.
To his credit, he follows it up immediately with,
“I’m terribly sorry Miss. I- I was hoping you could tell me if this shop sold anything on this list.”
The list consists of a series of tools and ingredients that are rather…esoteric even for this shop. It will take her a few minutes to go over their inventory.
While she is looking about the behind-the-counter area, Fiyero meanders his way to the front.
“Think you’ll be done soon?”
“I can probably close up and leave after I’m done with this,” she assures him, stepping out from behind the counter as she needs to check a few shelves to complete the customer’s list. She gestures in Fiyero’s direction when the man turns to regard him, “This is my husband, we’re just planning to leave for dinner once you’re out the door,”
Which is more than Elphaba has ever thought to share with a stranger before. Ev truly has changed her. Besides, it would be good for this traveler, whoever he is, to get his shock out of the way. Ev has so many more shocking things to offer than the two of them.
Fiyero has already offered his leather-glove clad hand for him to shake.
“The name’s Fiyero.”
But rather than being shocked, the man’s face looks….transfixed. His light eyes are…almost knowing.
“Human transmutation…” he blurts out, and though Elphaba doesn’t know what that is, the words do spark a bit of life in her brain, as though of something she read some time ago. Thankfully Fiyero is perfectly at ease with say,
“Uh…don’t really know what that is, but good to meet you I guess.”
Elphaba watches the stranger’s eyes look at Fiyero up and down, at the burlap of his skin, the occasional seam and stuck out bits of straw, at his rather slapdash clothing.
“A scarecrow…already a rather human-like form, but bonded with a human soul…”
He starts to trail, but realizing he’s rambling, adds.
“I do suppose you must have a soul, you are talking to me, but bound to a non-living construct.”
Elphaba’s the one staring at this point. She locks eyes with the stranger.
“Do you know anything about that?”
Despite the magicians in Ev, no one else had immediately had any idea about Fiyero. He was as foreign an idea here as in Oz. The man rubs the back of his head and chuckles lightly.
“You could say that.”
“I take it from your manner that you’re not from this part of Ev,” Elphaba starts. The man nods.
“I am not, I’m from rather far away from here, but the desert has many cultures that have a great array of things to learn. I’ve spent the last few years in another, and when I heard of this place I wanted to…”
He trails off again, looking a bit embarrassed.
“I think I would like to learn a bit more about what you might have picked up on your travels,” Elphaba tells him, a bit breathless.
The man, rubbing the back of his head again, jumps, and extends his hand to Elphaba as well.
“Oh, forgive my manners, I haven’t even told you my name. I’m Alphonse Elric, but you can call me Al.”
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