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It was nearly sundown by the time their unlikely group arrived in the dense woods surrounding Kiamo Ko. It would take no more than a short hour’s walk to reach the castle’s outer walls - walls famously made impenetrable by the Wicked Witch’s defense spells. It was said that none could enter undetected, that even the trees in the forest had eyes and ears, that the birds in the trees carried secrets back to the fortress under cover of darkness.
This would all be problematic, of course, if the leader of their group was planning on entering the castle undetected. Which he wasn’t.
The last rays of sunlight were filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows of orange and yellow on the soft forest floor where the travelers sat huddled, squinting distrustfully at the treetops silhouetted against the vibrant sky.
All but one, that is.
They’d followed him with an unquestioning faith through the forest as the trail had become increasingly narrow and overgrown, stopping only for brief periods of respite. None of them had asked how he knew where he was going or why he was the only one brave enough to lead them through the accursed forest, and he’d never volunteered the information.
The accursed forest, as the others had taken to calling it, glowed golden as the sun finally slipped behind the trees and the full moon rose low on the horizon, primed to take its place.
The moon had been full on another night in the forest, too, in what felt like another lifetime, and the man on the periphery of the group raised a gloved hand to his chest as if the pressure could relieve the phantom pain that lay dormant there, rearing its ugly head to incapacitate him during unexpected moments.
Not that he hadn’t expected it, in the woods surrounding her castle, of all places.
Her castle . When had he started thinking of it like that?
As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon a hair-raising scream tore through the night air, causing the Lion to twitch violently in fear. The girl who had been nodding off to sleep beside him jumped to her feet, a panicked expression on her face as she looked to her companions for reassurance.
“These woods are infested with wickedness,” the Tin Man told them all, his joints creaking as he leaned forward. We shouldn’t stay here long, or it might infect us as well.”
“Can it,” Fiyero responded with a pointed look in his direction. “There’s no need to scare them,” he added in an undertone, hoping Dorothy and the Lion wouldn’t hear. Straightening up, he raised his voice again to say, “Go to sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”
“I can’t sleep,” the Tin Man replied bitterly.
“Close your eyes and pretend, then.” Fiyero moved towards the edge of the clearing, eyes straining as he peered out into the steadily darkening forest.
“She took everything from me, you know.” The Tin Man had moved to stand beside him, his gaze fixed on Fiyero even as Fiyero stared out into the forest, unsure what he was looking for. Most of the Tin Man’s rants against the Witch were loud, boisterous, opinionated. Meant to be overheard. But this - this was a quiet confession under cover of darkness, the closest the two of them had ever come to sharing something akin to kinsmanship. For a brief moment he was the Tin Man no longer. Instead, for the first time since the beginning of their journey Fiyero found himself talking to Boq - idealistic, romantic Boq whom he’d known since school - his humanity still intact under layers of metal and resentment.
He was talking about Elphaba, Fiyero knew, and he felt a rush of fury on her behalf over the unfairly placed blame. “She did what she had to do to undo her sister’s twisted curse. She saved you.”
“ Saved .” The harsh laugh, offset by the creaking of metal joints, sounded deeply foreign in the peaceful forest clearing. “Saved! Listen to you. Look at what’s left of me! Do I look saved to you?”
“Would you rather be dead?”
“Maybe,” Boq admitted quietly. “You wouldn’t?”
Fiyero said nothing, continuing to gaze forward into the black emptiness surrounding them.
“You’re still in love with her,” Boq realized. “After everything that bitch has done, you’re still in love with her.”
“Do not call her that!”
“Do you know how many lives she’s ruined?”
“ Saved ! Oz, Boq, you’re just as shallow and empty headed as the rest of them.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
Fiyero sighed deeply. “If you’re not going to sleep, you can take the first watch. I’m going for a walk.”
He ignored Boq’s protests, instead keeping his gaze fixed determinedly forward as he wove his way through the shadowy tree trunks, hoping he could trust his hearing as he made his way in what he hoped was the direction of the scream that had startled his companions earlier. The sound that was evil incarnate, the very manifestation of wickedness itself.
Or so they said.
Fiyero, however, knew better.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness once he abandoned their small clearing for the cover of the trees, their thick, fragrant branches overlapping to block out the moonlight as they creaked in the wind. The smell of pine made him inexplicably nostalgic and he fought back a wave of emotion as he remembered that other night in the woods, kneeling on the soft forest floor, Elphaba’s hands in his as she’d looked at him in a way no one ever had before.
The vision propelled him forward, stumbling as he tripped on roots and rocks that blended in with the forest floor in the dark, cursing the gracelessness of his scarecrow body. He slowed his pace as the trees began to thin, picking his way cautiously towards the outskirts of what appeared to be another clearing in the woods and hoping he was making little enough noise to go undetected.
The scene in front of him could have stopped his heart if it were still capable of beating; Elphaba, illuminated by the moonlight, her hair loose and cascading down her back as she knelt in the clearing in front of a pool of water. Fiyero watched curiously as she trailed her fingers across the surface. His vantage point in the trees was too far away to afford him a view of the images that revealed themselves to her in the water, but he saw her shoulders shake subtly and his hands twitched at his sides as he fought the impulse to run to her. How he ached to pull her into his arms, to be the one to offer her comfort when the rest of Oz had made her its enemy.
Instead he called her name from the trees in a whisper, so softly she could pretend not to hear if she wanted.
“Elphaba.”
Her shoulders stiffened infinitesimally, but she didn’t turn around, instead continuing her vigil beside the pool. “You’re not real,” she said quietly, and whatever remained of Fiyero’s heart in the half-alive state that he’d been trying desperately to become accustomed to shattered to pieces.
“I’m real,” he responded, stepping into the moonlight, terrified to let her see him - to know him like this - but even more terrified of letting her continue to think she was alone.
Elphaba finally turned at the sound of his approach, her eyes widening in disbelief as Fiyero slowly, cautiously made his way towards her.
“You’re not real,” she said again, a subtle shakiness in her voice betraying her uncertainty even as she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not him.”
She remained frozen, rooted in place as he continued to approach her, her eyes a tormented sea of hope at war with distrust and disillusionment. Reaching her side at the pool, Fiyero stopped, an arm’s length away, waiting for her to be the one to bridge the gap.
Elphaba’s hand shook as she raised it, as she extended her arm towards him, and a memory lept unbidden to the forefront of Fiyero’s mind - one he remembered every minute detail of, one he could visualize as clearly as if it had happened just yesterday.
A different clearing, on a different day, and Elphaba reaching towards him just as hesitantly, the uncertainty in her eyes replaced by hurt as he’d unconsciously flinched away from her touch. He’d been different back then too - empty and lonely and terrified of the part of himself that she’d help up a mirror to, and he’d run away like the coward he was. It was an act he’d regretted the moment he’d done it, one he’d regretted every single day since. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.
He saw the conflict in her eyes - saw her hand twitch as if she meant to pull it back - and in that moment he made his decision, reaching forward to grasp her hand and bring her palm to rest on his chest, right over where his heart would beat if it still could.
“I’m real,” he told her again.
“Fiyero?” It came out in a choked gasp, her hand clenching and unclenching where he held it over his chest. “Oh, Fiyero . What have I done ?”
“The best you could,” he answered softly, lifting his free hand to brush at the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You saved my life, Elphaba.”
“But at what cost?”
“Hey. Hey, come here.” Fiyero pulled her into a tight embrace, bringing his arms securely around her back to hold her against him. “You saved my life,” he murmured against her hair. “Although…you did also try to set me on fire.”
Elphaba laughed weakly, blinking back stray tears as she leaned back to look at him. “In my defense, I didn’t know it was you.”
Fiyero took a deep breath, looking away so he wouldn’t have to see the hurt in her eyes as he said, “I know. I look different now. I’m…I’m not–”
“You’re beautiful,” Elphaba interrupted, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He shook his head, chuckling quietly. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I would never lie to you, Fiyero.” Her voice was tinged with sadness as she asked him, “Why would I lie to the only person who knows the truth about what I am?”
“ Who you are,” Fiyero corrected gently. “Not what , Elphaba. Who .”
“Fiyero–”
“I know who you are,” he continued calmly. “I’ve always known who you are.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, the confession falling from her lips in a broken whisper. “I’ve done so much damage, Fiyero. I’ve hurt so many people, no matter what my intentions were.”
“You did the best you could,” he reminded her, tracing the lines of her arms until he was gripping her hands tightly in his own. “I’m here because of you. I’m alive because of you. Elphaba…we can be together because of you.”
Elphaba shook her head sadly. “They’ll never stop hunting me, Fiyero. Not until I’m dead. You should know.” The ghost of something unreadable flickered across her face as she told him, “You’re here with them.”
Fiyero’s mouth fell open in disbelief as he stared at her, reeling from the very idea that Elphaba could possibly believe that he’d had some twisted change of heart. “You…you don’t think…” he stammered, hesitant to even give voice to the dark thoughts haunting her. “Elphaba…”
Elphaba closed her eyes in response, drawing a shaky breath.
“ Elphaba ,” Fiyero whispered again, trying to pour all of his heart into the three syllables of her name. “Do you think I came here to betray you?”
“Can you blame me?” she asked quietly, looking away from him even as she gripped his hands tighter. Her eyes scanned the forest as if searching for escape, her body thrumming with the palpable energy of oscillation between fight and flight. “You have every right to hate me, after what I’ve done to you.”
“I could never .” Fiyero dropped Elphaba’s hands, placing a palm on each of her cheeks and gently turning her face upward towards him, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I could never hate you, Elphaba,” he repeated fiercely, needing her to believe him, more than he’d ever needed anything in his life. He was desperate to bury the sinister lies she was believing under endless assurances of love. And yet he knew that the thoughts had already taken hold like roots in the back of her mind, twisting around everything she knew to be real until it was distorted, unrecognizable. Until the lies were indistinguishable from the truth.
Her eyes flicked down, avoiding his gaze as she asked, “Is it so impossible for me to believe that you could? The things I’ve done , Fiyero, the people I’ve hurt, I…”
“You once told me the Wizard could grant your heart’s desire.”
Elphaba laughed harshly and several birds took flight from the treetops, startled by the sound in the otherwise tranquil woods. “That’s not true. I was just naïve. I believed in him, believed all his beautiful lies. And now he’s turned me into one.” She spread her arms wide in display, turning her face upwards so the moonlight reflected the green of her skin.
“But it is true,” Fiyero protested. “Because we took the kid to see him, and he sent us here.”
“And your heart’s desire…?”
“Is you,” he confirmed. “It’s always been you.”
It had been a journey of convenience, for the most part, the unlikely companionship he’d fallen into. A girl who just so happened to be wearing Nessa’s shoes, and a man who just so happened to be Nessa’s ex-lover, and a Lion who just so happened to be the Cub he and Elphaba had freed back at Shiz all those years ago. Each of them with a goal that would take them to the Emerald City - to the Wizard - and it hadn’t been hard for him to feign dedication to the cause. After all, each step down the Yellow Brick Road was a step closer to her.
But if convenience had led him to the Emerald City, fate had led him to Kiamo Ko. Threads of destiny woven into the very fabric of the cosmos, shimmering like the stars that had watched over them as they’d slowly wound their way back to each other.
We will see each other again, won’t we?
Her words had haunted his footsteps down the Yellow Brick Road, haunted all the sleepless nights of his journey, haunted the moments in the cornfield that he’d thought would be his last. He’d had weeks to formulate his plan - to consider every angle, to build contingencies into his contingencies. He’d been writing it down slowly, outlining the details with plans to send a letter ahead of their arrival. And instead he was faced with the prospect of trying to explain all the intricacies to her right there, in the short minutes they had remaining - if they were lucky.
Recognizing that he’d already been gone too long and that he’d need to return to the group quickly so as to minimize suspicion, Fiyero began.
“The others have been filling Dorothy’s head with all sorts of fantastical ideas,” he told her.
“Like what?”
“Like the idea that water can melt you.”
“She’ll find out soon enough that’s not true.”
“Right,” Fiyero said slowly, drawing out the word. “But what if she didn’t?”
Elphaba arched a single eyebrow delicately. “Come again?”
“The witch hunters are out for blood, you said it yourself. They’ll never stop until you’re…” dead . The word sat heavy on the tip of his tongue and yet he refused to give voice to it. “They’ll never stop. But if we could convince them that…”
“You want me to fake my death,” Elphaba breathed.
“I know.” Fiyero’s voice was apologetic as he traced his hands up and down her arms. “I know. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best–”
“No, it’s brilliant , Fiyero.” Elphaba’s gaze softened, her hands coming to frame his face as she told him, “You’re brilliant.”
Fiyero moved one of his hands to cover Elphaba’s, holding it firmly against his cheek. They stared at each other for a long moment as he tried to lose himself in her touch, to memorize it so he could carry it with him until they saw each other again.
We will see each other again, won’t we?
In low undertones in the fragile serenity of their brief refuge, Fiyero recounted his plan. Piece by piece, he provided instructions on every intricate detail, pausing at regular intervals for Elphaba to repeat them back to him so he could ensure she understood. When he was finally finished, there was only one question remaining.
“You’ll come?” She asked it breathlessly, almost as if she was terrified to hear the answer.
“ Elphaba .” Fiyero gripped her upper arms as tightly as he could, leaning forward until his forehead rested against hers. “How can you even ask that?”
“Promise me, Fiyero,” she begged. “Promise me you’ll come.”
“Don’t you remember what I told you?” he whispered against her temple, pulling her even closer against him. “ Always , Elphaba. I meant it.”
“Fiyero–”
“I’ll come.” He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, enunciating each word clearly as he told her, “I promise.”
Elphaba let out a choked sob, burying her face in his shoulder as she took deep, shuddering breaths. Fiyero ran a hand up and down her back to soothe her, the other hand tangling in her loose hair. When she finally pulled back, it was to tell him, “You should get back to the others. You’ve already been gone too long.”
“You’ll be okay?” he asked, unable to stop the concern from lacing his voice.
A sardonic smile flickered across Elphaba’s face. “If we’re doing this, I’ll need to make it believable. Promise me you won’t take it personally?”
“Do what you have to do,” Fiyero told her gently, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Just…go easy on the fireballs, yeah?”
Elphaba chuckled weakly. “I’m sorry for trying to set you on fire.”
He shrugged one shoulder, smiling at her crookedly as he admitted, “It was pretty hot.”
Her expression sobered as she raised her hand to catch his, holding it against her face. “Fiyero…”
“We’ll see each other again, Elphaba.” He spoke the promise to life with all the confidence in Oz. “I believe that.”
She leaned forward, her lips brushing across his cheek, and Fiyero - the coward that he was - let his eyes drift shut, knowing he wouldn’t be able to bear watching her leave.
When he opened his eyes once more it was to an empty clearing, the moonlight reflecting off the water in front of him, and a memory that could have been no more than a dream were it not for the echo of her whisper in his ear.
I know.
I’m scared, Dorothy would confide in him that next morning, to which he’d reply: Don’t worry. It’ll all go exactly as we planned.