A/N: This is a random idea that came into my head while practicing for piano...And as Molly knows I wrote this some days ago...And what Elphaba's playing is something akin to Across the Stars. But not the singing. I don't know, it's Oz.
Disclaimer: We all know Wicked isn't mine.
Fiyero wandered into one of Shiz's common rooms and suppressed a groan. Wrong room again. Would he never learn his way around this blasted campus!
He was about to turn and leave when he heard music from deeper within the room. A haunting melody began to play, and Fiyero felt it tug at his heart, threaten to split that vital organ in two. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before, but he recognized the feeling from looking at the Vinkus sunsets over the Thousand Year Grasslands at the vibrant strokes of colors he could never hope to capture.
He craned his head around the bust of some long-dead benefactor that obfuscated the source of the music from his sight. When he did get a look at it, what he saw shocked him and somehow made the music more poignant, if that was possible.
Seated at a grand piano, playing with grace and skill but without sheet music, sat that girl, Boq's friend, the one from Life Sciences class. The green one. Miss Elphie. Elphaba. The prickly one.
He'd never taken her for a musical person- she with her angles and harsh, sharp manner. Her voice was low and serrated, like gears that badly needed oiling, anything but lyrical. But as those long, elegant fingers moved across the keys in ever more complex patterns, she began to sing as well, high and clear and pure and powerful, and he felt himself breaking into pieces at the terrible, aching beauty of her song. He wasn't aware that he was crying until he tasted the salty wetness in his gaping mouth.
He lost his grip on the marble bust, suddenly, and he lurched forward, his clumsy feet making a thud and startling Elphaba. The music stopped abruptly, and when he found the courage to look up- he'd seen her in a rage and was terrified of being on the receiving end of one- he saw that her eyes were narrowed, her brows lowered, her nose even sharper than it usually was, and her lips were set firmly.
"What the hell," she asked in short, clipped words, emphasizing the consonants, "are you doing there?"
"I-I-I-" he stammered. The brows went up. Her hazel gaze impaled him, right through his heart, and just the set of her face managed to make him feel incredibly dull.
"What?" she asked, features hardening.
"I was looking for Boq," he finally managed to get out. "He and Avaric and Tibbett and Crope asked me to meet them but I couldn't find the right room, and I stumbled in here and heard you start to play, and I couldn't leave. It was…" he searched for words and came up short. "Haunting…beautiful…incredible."
Was it him, or did those eyes soften.
"Don't," she said, "Don't ever," and he had no idea what she meant.
He asked her later, rubbing oil on her back in their little room, and she laughed lightly and said,
"It doesn't matter. You didn't listen, anyway."