Most versions of this famous scene/song I have so far read feature Elphaba whisking a love-struck Fiyero onto her broom and away into the forest glade, where he succumbs instantly and utterly to her wicked ways and both make passionate love until morning…swoon…
Whilst I love reading fics based around this storyline, I decided to try and write a different take on the scene (just for the sake of making life harder for myself). It always bothered me how Elphaba seemed to be able to disregard Fiyero's engagement to Glinda so quickly and easily, so I factored that in, making this a longer and more angsty interpretation of the scene.
Reviews are like free front-row tickets to Wicked for me!
"Fine – fine, go…!"
"…you deserve each other!"
We ran for our lives.
Through the gleaming polished doors of the Wizard's chamber and down the dark corridor I ran, he ran, weran; Glinda's voice still resounding in my ears, the Captain of the Gale Force – of all men – panting and puffing and half-running, half-falling along behind me, both hands tight and warm around one of mine…
Shut up. Stop it Elphaba, just listen to yourself, stop it, stop it…
But it was useless. Thoughts and feelings I knew I couldn't let through were already creeping softly around the back of my mind; the same ones that had already crawled their way in deep enough to make me not stop, not refuse, not turn back and insist that he stay loyal to the bastard he'd already pledged himself to. He should leave me be, should let me run alone; he should stay back where he was safe, where he was happy, loyal to the woman he loved…had loved for so many years, now…
But I hadn't stopped. I hadn't refused. And though every part of my body screamed for me to stop and think – just think, for a second, about what I was dragging this brainless, beautiful man into – I didn't. Long-ingrained instincts, rooted far too deep to be denied at such a crucial moment, had already taken over – and my mind had one thought and one thought only to concentrate on now.
Get out of the Wizard's palace.
"Elphaba…!" Fiyero was gasping behind me, chest heaving – already out of breath, of course, stupid pampered prince that he was –and slowing his feet to a drag with every passing second. "Elphie, slow down! Wait a second!"
"Shh," I hissed, skittering to a stop as a sound caught my ears. Fiyero crashed headlong into me, ending up in a heap on the floor with a painful sounding crunch.
"Be quiet!" I hissed – for Oz's sake, hadn't being in the Gale Force taught him anything?! – and he froze instantly in his position, like some absurd green and gold statue. I smothered a laugh in spite of myself, then turned to face the open corridor – the footsteps grew louder and louder, marred by the swish of fabric brushing the floor…closer…closer…
They were headed for this corridor.
Stomach somersaulting, I whirled round to face the still frozen form of the Captain of the Gale Force.
"Get behind that statue!" I hissed – he couldn't be found with me – gesturing wildly with one end of Broomstick to the gigantic marble sculpture of a frowning magician that stood a few feet away.
Fiyero blinked at me stupidly.
I seized him by one medal-encrusted arm and yanked him up, shoving him behind me and raising Broomstick ready – if they dared to so much as touch him…
I almost heard the little click as comprehension dawned in Fiyero's ever-abnormally slow brain.
"No," he whispered, his voice very different now. "No, Elphaba, if this is my –"
"It is not your pathetic little troop of guards. Can't you hear the steps? It's someone wearing high heels –"
He gasped. "- Glinda -?!"
"Of course not Glinda, she's still back in the throne room, which is where this person is headed, so get behindthat statue!"
"But Elph –"
"- if they catch you with me –!"
"- I don't care, as long as they don't catch you!"
Stupid, noble idiot, why couldn't he just do as he was told?!
I threw caution to the wings and rounded on him.
"Do as I say, Captain, or I will make y – mph!"
– I never got to finish my sentence. Fiyero's hand clamped over my mouth as Madam Morrible, of all people, rounded the corner. Instinctively, I struggled – how did he expect me to defend either of us if he had me pinned in such a way as this?! – but he ignored me, dragging us both back behind the statue, whilst Morrrible bounced her way through the doors, chuckling like a mad woman, and let them swing shut behind her.
Muffled voices dove into animated conversation beyond the thick oak wood…then silence.
Fiyero heaved a sigh of relief – and then yelped as I twisted away from him, one brief spurt of magic sparking from my fingertips to release his grip – and made a dart for poor Broomstick, who had rolled off into a corner, creaking in protest.
"Next time," I almost snarled. "You do as I tell you, Captain."
The word came out like an insult, but Fiyero only shook his head, still rubbing his forearms and wincing.
"Elphaba, come on, you can't seriously have expected me to stand by and watch anyone capture you whilst I hid safe and sound, anymore than –"
"Than Icould have stood by and watched you -?!" I began heatedly, fists clenching.
"Well, could you?"
I opened my mouth to retort – and then realised what he'd actually asked me. My throat closed up in horror as I imagined, for the first time, standing safe and hidden whilst something…anything…harmed Fiyero. I stared at him a second, lost in the horror of the thought – and then looked away quickly.
Stupid, brainless, noble idiot. Brainless…beautiful idiot…
I swallowed hard, face flushing dark with colour.
Not that girl, remember, Elphie, not that girl…
"No," I tried to snap, and failed, my eyes on the ragged edge of my pitiful excuse for a dress. "No, I couldn't. Not ever. Never."
I could feel his eyes on me, feel Broomstick turning with a gentle creak in my hands. They both stared at me like I'd grown an extra head or something. 's gaze burned like sparks hitting straw onto my face, my downcast eyes, my tangled mess of hair and rags of dress, over and up and down my ghastly, bone-thin body…
My cheeks heated all over again; the colour felt strange, alien to me, revealing so much, horrible...and infuriatingly familiar from just a few moments back all those years ago, back at Shiz.
Not that girl, Elphie…
I turned on my heel and stalked away, over to the nearest window with head held high – I would not let him see it, cursed Oz, let him see what he was doing to me, all over again. I pretended to scan the palace grounds for any stray packs of guards.
"So – so we going, then? Elphaba?"
My name, the way he spoke my name – Oz-damnit. My eyes stayed glued to my putrid green fingers lying like thin slugs on the ledge of the windowsill…
…Fiyero's familiar, heavy hand move to rest so gently on my shoulder. I froze.
"Elphaba?" he murmured again, and though I still refused to let him see my face I could almost feel how close he was standing behind me now, and Oz, his touch felt so good, much too good, memories of Lion cubs and poppy fields flooding my mind…
"Elphaba? You all right?"
Understatement of the century. I was everything but right, and his hand, which I noticed had a rather large, glittery ring on it – a terrible reminder of something I refused to let myself think of – drifted up my shoulder, dusting over the stray threads and scraps of material, up to my neck, the high collar of my dress, his fingers lingering at my cheek…
"We should go," I snapped out, breaking the spell – Oz, just listen to me – voice strained, but reassuringly brisk once again. I jerked away from his touch, wheeling around to get Broomstick reading for flying. "We've wasted enough time already, they'll be sounding the alarm just as soon as Morrible finds out what has happened –"
"Keep your voice down, for Oz's sake!" I snapped before he could delay us any longer, distract me with any more velvet-swathed tones, any more murmurs of my name, my true name, make my heart flutter like a Oz-damned Hummingbird any longer – I tore my hat out of my pocket and pulled it on, turning back to the window to mount Broomstick –
– and collided headlong with him. He caught me in his arms as swiftly, as effortlessly, as naturally as if I were a fly caught in his trap.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved. I gawked like a moron at him; blank, uncomprehending. We were so close, still not an inch of bare skin touching, but oh, sweet Oz, I wanted to touch him. And almost as though he had read the thought straight from my mind, I felt his hands suddenly, firmly twine themselves with mine. The touch was a thousand times more alien and a million more exhilarating from how it had felt that first time, all those years ago, back at Shiz, with that stupid Lion cub…
Not that girl, Elphie…not that girl, remember, remember…!
"Fiyero," I blurted, my voice a trembling wisp of a sound. "Fiyero, don't –"
"Don't what, Elphie?" he whispered, a trace of a smile to his tone; his voice caressed my silly nickname, wrapping round it softly, singing it. "I'm not doing anything."
Not that girl…
"We have to go. Get out of here. We have to get out of the Wizard's palace," I blabbered, knowing I should look away from those ridiculously blue, blue eyes and prepare for this flight properly, but unable to move an inch. "Need to get away. Escape."
I blinked hard. My hands flexed round his. The resulting electricity was incredible.
"…We need to get the window open," I managed, brilliantly. Fiyero was truly smiling now, wide and almost smug. I wondered with an unpleasant twist of humiliation whether he could feel my heart pounding its way to a hundred miles an hour against his chest.
"Get the window open. Ok. I can do that."
Tentatively, he extracted one of his hands from what I realised had become a vice-like grip – and reached up, never taking his eyes from mine, to the window behind me. I heard a click, followed by creak, followed by a surprisingly chilly breeze. It gusted in behind me, ruffling my hair upwards around my face in a crazy black halo for a few moments – before Fiyero's other hand caught hold of it, and stroked it back into place. The most absurd little shiver of pleasure rippled down my spine.
Not that girl, Elphaba –
- Oh shut up, I groaned mentally at the voice in my head. Not that girl, I know, not that girl, just let me have a minute, please, just a few more minutes…
I reached behind me to take hold of Broomstick – who had been quivering impatiently ever since sensing the window's opening - and scrambled up onto the sill with him.
"You'll have to climb on behind me," I murmured to Fiyero, still half-dazed, shifting into a half-crouch and swinging one leg over the battered strip of wood. I held out a hand, a pang of desire for his touch running through me. He took it, gaze still locked with mine, the wind tousling his hair and making him blink as I pulled him up onto the sill.
We gazed steadily at each other for a few immeasurable moments.
"You sure you know how to fly this thing?" he murmured, grinning broadly at the look I gave him.
"Get on the broom, Fiyero."
He obeyed. I blinked hard then, trying to clear my head as he clambered to perch on Broomstick behind me, who shifted a little at the extra weight but didn't make any more of a protest. Then I shook myself very, very hard.
Not that girl, moaned the voice in my head…
…but for the first time in Oz-knew how many years, I just wasn't really listening to it. Now, I had Broomstick to fly. And one more person to worry about, perched precariously on my only means of transport behind me.
But the words were easy; the magic like sister to me now, simple as every other crazy thing I'd learned from all I'd thrown myself into these past years. I told Fiyero to take my waist, not let go, and not, under any circumstances, make a single sound – then pushed backwards off the sill and out of the window.
Fiyero let out a yelping half-scream – honestly, how old was he? – burying his face in my hair, and clutched my waist with an intensity that did dangerous things to my concentration…
…but…thank Oz…stayed silent after that.
Together, we began our journey over the trees and rooftops of the Emerald City.