The entire book of Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West has happened, up until page 219, from the line, "At a clip, he headed back across town." But from there on out, the story takes a different turn.

This is my version of what would have happened if Fiyero had lived. If he had, the events in The Wizard of Oz would never have taken place, because she wouldn't have been in the place she was at the time she was. So this contradicts a lot. But, hey, that's what fan fiction is. Chapter One:

He'd lost sight of her; the only way to find her was to wait for her in the only place he knew she'd go, her "home". Without another thought, he started on his way to the street of abandoned warehouses next to the military district.

There was a reason he'd seen all of that, he knew. She'd backed out; fallen apart and hadn't done what she'd come there to do. And thinking about it, he finally knew the answer to the question he'd been asking himself for so long: he loved Elphaba. What would he be doing here, risking his life, if he didn't love her? He loved her; he didn't love her the way he loved Sarima. The way he loved Sarima was the way one loves family; he loved her because he had to, because, since the age of eight, she'd been part of his family. After all of this, his wildly indulgent affair, he didn't know what road he'd follow. Eventually he would be faced with the choice: go back home to Sarima and his kids and live the way his life had been planned out, or stay with Elphie for however long either one of them lived.

Suddenly, someone on the side of the road kicked a foot out in front of him and he tripped, falling almost face first into the pavement. He didn't fall too hard; he gathered up his graceful nature even as he was standing and looking for the person who had tripped him.

"Fiyero, you idiot! I told you not to follow me; I told you to stay in your hotel room. Why don't you ever listen?"

He turned to face her, looking somewhat like a puppy that knows it's about to be scolded. She'd tied her cloak around her again; her face was hardly visible. From where he was, he could just barely make out her facial expression – anger. There was more than anger, though; there was fear, there was worry, there was disappointment, there was love. "Hello, Elphaba. I didn't expect to run into you here."

"Very funny, Fiyero. A block from where I live? I know exactly where you were headed, dear; don't even try to tell me otherwise. Go back to your hotel, now."

"But Elphie, I won't see you again."

"Of course you'll see me again. I'll find you. If you think I'm not going to give you the what for about this imprudent little stunt you've pulled, you're out of your mind." She was frustrated, her bony hands twisted around one another anxiously.

"How are you going to find me?"

"Unlike you, Yero, I am no fool. You don't believe me? Fine, then. Tell me your room number."

"It's forty-two, but - "

"No! Go, now. If I catch you following me or anywhere but your hotel room, I will disappear on you, Fiyero, I'm serious." Elphaba waved him away, watching him as he turned and began his walk towards the opposite side of the city.

He entered his hotel room and flipped the lights. The bed was made, as usual (it wasn't as if he slept in his hotel room every night, anyway) and a "Do not disturb" sign hung on the inside doorknob. Lazily, he placed it on the outer doorknob, closed the door and flopped himself on the bed, lying on his back, closing his eyes. And he couldn't help but wonder where Elphie was now.

Hours later, he awoke to a tapping noise from outside his window. Forgetting that Elphaba had said she would find him, he almost thought it was the Gale Force, coming after him because he was associated with Elphie. But when he looked out the window, it wasn't the Gale Force, it was Elphie. Gratefully, he got up and opened the window, helping her inside. "It's good to see you. What would you do if I wasn't on the first story?"

She pulled her cloak off and just looked at him for a moment, shivering. He couldn't bear seeing her like that, and he put an arm around her, but she wasn't shivering from the cold. After a minute she said, "I can't go back. I failed and I'm lucky if they don't come after me for this. It could've ruined the entire…" Trailing off, she shook her head and shrugged his arm off of her. "And you, what did you think you were doing? Had I not caught you, you'd be dead right now! The Gale Force was by my place, Fiyero; they killed the cat and made it a display, a warning. You could have been killed!" At that point, she sounded so afraid; there was so much emotion in her voice that he didn't recognize.

He had nothing to say to all of this; there was no use in trying to defend himself. "Sit down." She sat down on the bed and he sat next to her, watching her face.

"I want you to go back to Kiamo Ko."

"But, Elphie, I - "

"No! You have to go; I told you before that it wasn't safe."

"And where will you go?"

"Away. You don't need to know anymore. I love you, Fiyero, but this has to end. You're putting yourself in danger. Go home to Sarima. Pretend we never happened."

He took her hands. "No, let me come with you."

"You almost got murdered tonight because of your foolish actions and because of me. I will not be responsible for your life, Fiyero. You can't come with me." She stood up, looking as if she was ready to leave.

Desperately, he grabbed her wrist. "If I can't go with you, I'll purposely get myself caught."


"I will. Please, don't leave me." But he was smiling inwardly; he'd given her no choice.

"Don't do this. You have a wife and kids waiting for you in the Vinkus, all I am is a lover. It doesn't balance out." She jerked her arm away from him, but he didn't let go.

"But it does, Fae-Fae. I love you."

"No, you don't. You don't even know it all, Yero. You don't love me, you love the sex, the feeling of making love to someone other than Sarima, that I don't refuse you when you wake me up in the middle of the night, that I'm different. But you don't love me." Elphaba wouldn't look at him, then. She stared solemnly out the window, waiting for his response.

"Is that all that this is to you, then?"

"Stop it. Don't you dare start that with me. But you're naïve, Yero my hero. We can't keep this up, it won't work."

"It will if you let it, Elphie." He came up behind her stealthily and pulled the zipper at the back of her dress.

"No, Fiyero." She looked at him and he knew she was trying to convince herself, as well as him, to stop. Her dress was already loose, though, and he slid his hands inside of it, teasing her breasts. "We can't," she told him. Again, she tried to wrench herself away, but the effort was halfhearted and unsuccessful.

Eagerly, he tugged at her dress, kissing the curve of her back. "Come on, please?"

"Damn you, Fiyero. I love you." She reached and turned down the lights, allowing him to take her standing up. When they did reach the bed sometime later to fall asleep, she murmured, "Oh, Yero, what am I going to do about you?"

He held her tight as she slept, afraid of letting go of her for even a moment, for she might slip out of his grasp.

When morning came, he awoke to the pathetic sight of her trying to wriggle herself out of his arms without rousing him from sleep.


She turned her body around to face him, caught in the act. "I can't be seen here. I have to go."

"No one is going to see you. You don't have to go anywhere. Why do you insist on leaving me?"

"I have to, Fiyero. Can't you understand that and let me go?" Elphaba sighed. "Heart, if it was safe, I'd stay. But it isn't safe and you're in danger just as much as I am. Go home to Sarima."

"I want to stay with you." He wasn't going to let her out of the bed so she could run away. His hands gripped her fidgeting, resistant form; she couldn't go.

"I'm leaving. You have to accept that, dearie. This thing is out of control; I should never have allowed you to get to me in the first place. You are the prince of the Arjikis; you have responsibilities that you can't just throw away. Listen to me, there are children waiting at home for you, and a wife. Go to them. Fiyero, you married Sarima, not me. I don't exist; I have no self, no soul. Sarima is a realer person. Kiamo Ko is where you belong, with the children you had with the woman you married."

"I didn't marry her by choice!"

"But it's your life. It's been set out like that since the day you were born. I was never supposed to be a part of your life; you were never supposed to give up your castle, your throne, your people. Please, if you ever do anything I tell you, go home."

"No. Someone else will take over the throne if I don't return; perhaps someone already has."

"Not someone with a college education."

"It's not a difficult task. Fae-Fae, if I can't be with you, I'll turn myself in."

"No, you won't, Fiyero. You will do what you were born to do and guide your people for the better part of your life."

"How are you going to make sure of that?"

"Yero, don't make this difficult." After a little more shoving and pushing, she released herself from his hold, grabbing for her dress.

Fiyero moved in front of the door, glad that she'd had to dress, giving him time to block her escape. "Isn't it difficult saying goodbye to me anyway?"

"Stop it. Move away from the door and let me go. That's all I'm asking of you."

"But I'll do it. I'll turn myself in; say I know more than I really do. I'll make something up. You can't leave."

She was getting exasperated. "Just do what I told you to do. It's not complicated."

"Oh, but it is. I'm not going to be happy without you."

"And you'll die if you're with me, so I'd rather you live."

There was a loud banging on the door. Fiyero pulled on whatever clothing he could find on the floor and dashed to the door. Elphaba, though out of Fiyero's grasp, was still on the bed, having not yet gotten fully clothed, and she went almost white with horror. Sliding her dress over her, she got off of the bed and looked for another way out of the room.

Fiyero caught her wrist again. "Don't even try the window. If you don't want to be seen here, then hide in the closet." Trying not to be rough, he pushed her into the closet and shut the door. Before she could say a word or even turn the door handle, Fiyero had opened the door for his mysterious visitor. "Yes?"

A tall, well-muscled man stood in the doorway imposingly, holding some wrinkled paper in his hands. "Fiyero, prince of the Arjikis?"

"That would be me."

"I'm afraid I am the bearer of somewhat distressing news."

Bewildered, Fiyero took the paper the bellhop was holding out to him. "What is it?"

"Your people, sir."

Almost tearing the paper as he unfolded it, he asked, "What's happened?"

"No one quite knows."

He finally opened folded paper; it was a newspaper article. "What is this about?"


Early last week, a caravan traveling through the Vinkus came to the land of the Arjikis to find it barren and unoccupied. Investigators have been sent to search for anything that might help discover the missing tribe. So far, nothing has been found and no progress has been made. It seems the Arjikis have disappeared.

As Fiyero refolded the paper, clutching it tightly in his fist, the bellhop said, "I'm sorry. Would you like me to arrange a way for you to return?"

"No. I'll do that later, thank you." His face blank, he shut the door. He reached to open the closet right as Elphaba stepped out, having heard the other door close. "It looks like you got what you wanted. I have to return to Kiamo Ko."

"What was that all about?" She studied his face curiously.

"I'm returning to Kiamo Ko, and you're coming with me."

"Fiyero, what kind of preposterous idea is that?"

"The tribe is missing." He handed her the article.

She glanced at it briefly, her black eyes moving over the paper, drinking up and soaking in every word written in ink. "Yes. It's best you return home." With an empty, resolved look, she gave the article back to him, sounding apologetic.

He began to pack, throwing things into his bag carelessly. "Come on, then. Let's go."

"You go." She tried to act as if she didn't care.

"No. If you don't go, I don't either."

"Fiyero, your people – not to mention your wife and children – are missing and you want your lover to come home with you to the last place they were seen? That's ridiculous."

"It's not, though. Sarima isn't going to find out if she isn't even there."

"And when you find them…?"

"I don't know. But Fae, please. I don't want to be alone right now." He was on his knees, pleading with her to keep him company.

"Correction: You don't want to be without sex right now."

"It's not just about that!"

"Fine, then. Name one time – just one – that you've come to see me without expecting sex." She'd put her hands on her hips and turned away from him.

"That isn't fair, Elphaba. You don't allow me to see you other than to get in bed."

"Not every time."

"Elphie, that was once."

"Oh, Yero, just go." She waved him away as if he was nothing.

He was getting desperate. "I told you, I'll turn myself in."

Turning back to him, she had a look of horror in her eyes, and said, "No! For all we know, I might be the reason your entire tribe is missing in the first place. They could've followed me to you and mistaken you as a coconspirator." Her eyes widened; he could see the ring of green around her pupils perfectly. "An entire group of people could be dead, for all we know, and it may be my fault." She looked stricken with guilt, suddenly realizing that there was no other solution.

Fiyero took advantage of this, feeling a little bad for it, but it was the only way. "As much as I doubt that, Fae-Fae, you have a point. If, by some chance, it is because of you, who do you have to make it up to when the rest of the people are missing?"

"I see where this is going. And no."

"If it is your fault, though, don't you want to help find them?"

"No. The more associated I am with them, the more likely it is that they'll be killed. Go home. Please."

"I've said this already: I'm not going if you're not."

"Why, Yero? What are you thinking? Do you have any idea how much danger you're putting your people and yourself in?"

"I don't care."

"You care more than you think you do, my love."

"Love. And yet, you tell me I don't love you."

"Fiyero, don't."

"Then go with me. Elphie, there's nothing else to do. I'll turn myself in. I said I would and I meant it."

Angrily, she picked up her cloak; he moved to block the window. "Relax, I'm going." She gave him a look of defeat.

"I love you."

"Believe what you wish to believe. And I love you. But we have some problems to solve. How am I going to get out of here without being seen?"

He was going to suggest the window, but then he didn't trust the idea. "Keep your cloak around you tight."

"That looks suspicious."

"Do it anyway. It's not as if I don't look ridiculous, anyway. Walking with you isn't going to make me look any more like a common person."

"Fine. Rain. Tell me how we're going to solve that problem."

"I can get us a ride out of here, you won't have to worry about getting wet on the journey."

"And the driver isn't going to be a little confused why I'm coming along?"

"Just trust me."

"I have nothing but this dress and my cloak. That's a problem I don't think you can solve. I will not wear this filthy thing day after day."

"It won't take very long to reach Kiamo Ko. Once we're there, we'll work something out."

She was out of excuses to run away, and she was partially glad for it, though she felt selfish for being happy at a time like this. "Fine, then."

"Come to the front desk with me so I can arrange a ride. I'm not leaving you here alone. And hang on to my hand, it'll look strange if I keep looking back to make sure you're still there." Fiyero grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the hallway.

An hour later they were standing outside, waiting for a carriage. Elphaba was still hidden in her cloak like a turtle in its shell; the only visible part of her body was the hand that clutched Fiyero's. When the carriage approached, Fiyero paid the driver in advance and then shoved Elphie into the carriage in front of him, not trusting her to get in behind, for she might disappear again.

Once inside the carriage, she would not take off her cloak, or even lower the hood. Though the carriage was dark, it was daylight and rays of sun seeped through the carriage. Fiyero held her hand on his knee, knowing better than to try to talk to her. She was almost completely silent the whole day. He wanted desperately to talk to her, or to touch her, but the way she was holding herself told him it wasn't a great idea.

When the night began to fall and the light in the carriage faded, Fiyero pulled off the hood of her cloak, keeping his face close to hers so he could see her in the dark. She bowed her head, not allowing eye contact.

"All righty then, we're a' stoppin' for the night." The driver turned around, waving a lantern. "I got myself a tent and such 'cause there ain't much room up here. I'm 'fraid you'll have to manage back there, though. I'm gonna park this thing and tie up the horses. You folks have a nice rest."

As soon as the driver had stepped out of the carriage and shut the door, Fiyero said, "Talk to me, my darling Fae."

"What is there to say, Fiyero? We're only Oz knows where on the way to the Vinkus in this grungy old carriage. All I want is to sleep." She shifted against the side of the carriage, unable to lean her head on anything.

Squinting his eyes to see her clearly, he reached for her cloak to pull it off completely. The weather out there was warm, unlike in the city.

She swatted him away. "No, Yero."

"No what?"

"Not tonight."

"Did I say that's what I wanted?"

"What did you want, then?"

"To be able to see you a little better. Besides, it's hot out here."

Uncomfortably, she pulled off her cloak. "Well, I could use something to rest my head on."

He slid an arm around her and said, "Use my shoulder. That cloak would make a better blanket than pillow."

Agitated at her lack of control in the situation, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Yero my hero."

"I love you, Elphie."

"I love you, too."