Chapter Text
Elphaba’s father couldn't believe his luck when a royal family reached out to him for a political marriage to one of his daughters without needing to meet her or even see a picture. His disbelief was something he kept repeating as he announced the news to Elphaba in her room one night when she was trying to sleep.
She could already see the doors to the wedding hall opening, her walking down the aisle as if wearing the costume of a bride made her one. Her groom would look at her, ask if it was some kind of a joke, and then declare that there was no way he could marry her. The only other option was him running from the hall before saying anything.
It didn't surprise Elphaba that her father was so willing to offer her up for this slaughter.
-
As the governor's daughter, Elphaba had been invited to several political weddings, her father always made an excuse for why his oldest daughter could not be in attendance. When they were younger, Nessa would tell Elphaba all about the elaborate dresses and jewelry the brides would wear. Her father seemed to be at least somewhat aware of how this day could turn out as he didn't invest in the bride’s appearance. Instead of commissioning a new dress, Elphaba's father told her to wear the nicest one she had. She found the dress that she would wear for formal occasions at the back of her closet. It had been so long since she wore it the seamstress had to add an extra inch from whatever fabric she had that’s colour matched closest.
No one who saw Elphaba as she was today would assume she was getting married.
Elphaba had no interest in being primped and prodded anyways, and the lack of prep meant she had more time to herself.
She sat in her father’s estate's large garden trying to read in spite of her nerves.
It was also in spite of a plopping noise she heard from somewhere within the trees. Eventually she accepted that reading would be impossible until her humiliation was over. Therefore, she decided all there was to do was investigate.
She walked through the trees and flowers following the noise until she came to the pond at the middle of the property.
She saw that the source of the noise was a young man, about her age, skipping stones across the pond.
He was handsome and quite good at skipping stones.
A branch cracked under her foot and he turned to her.
She prepared herself for a gasp or a scream or a rude remark, but the young man seemed surprised for a moment by her green skin before he accepted this reality and moved on.
"I suppose they sent you to get me?"
"Excuse me?"
"For the wedding".
"Oh, no. Are you a guest?"
"I wish," he picked up another stone.
"You're the groom".
"Afraid so". The prince tossed the stone, it skipped five times before landing on the ground at the other side of the pond. "Yes!"
"You don't want to be married?" Elphaba could use this to find out what she was in for.
"My parents have decided it's time for me to grow up and that means marriage. As I won't be eligible for the throne unless some great tragedy befalls my several older siblings, it didn't really matter to whom it would be".
"Do you know anything about her?"
"Not a thing". He picked up another rock. "You play?"
"What?"
"Do you want to throw a rock?"
"I-I..."
The prince's face seemed more confused than when he'd learned people could be green. Elphaba knew she was being strange, but she'd never been invited to join a game before.
"It's fine if you're not good at it," he seemed to believe this was what had tripped her up. He tossed the rock to her and she caught it. "Here," he said, stepping behind her.
There had been about a week when she was much younger where Elphaba had devoured romance novels, many of which contained a scene where the hero would put his arms around his lover in order to show her how to hit a target in archery or some other sport. She had read three of these books before she'd come into her room one day to see that a maid had found the book she’d hidden under her bed and, in her tidying, had put it on the desk. Elphaba had been found out and she never touched a romantic story again. Reading them would suggest she believed she was entitled to that kind of fantasy. As the prince's hand reached for hers, she saw herself as the miscast heroine in one of those stories, it was almost funny.
"Elphaba Thropp!" Her father's voice boomed over the garden. She stepped away from the prince.
"I suppose that's you?" He asked.
Elphaba nodded and dashed away, wanting to avoid her father's temper.
-
With only twenty minutes before the wedding, Elphaba's hair was pulled back into an updo and a veil was placed over her head. She noticed that the silver slippers her mother had been married in were absent, but said nothing.
She lined up behind her sister next to the big doors leading to the hall where the wedding was being held.
The music started and the doors creaked open. Nessa went in first. Elphaba heard a light murmur as the audience remarked on how beautiful she looked.
Elphaba's father appeared beside her and took her arm, preparing to lead her down the aisle. Elphaba could not remember the last time he’d touched her. His hand felt cold on her arm.
A servant gave him the nod to start walking and his face contorted into a wide smile. Elphaba tried her best to smile too.
They rounded the corner and crossed the threshold. The audience went silent. Elphaba saw the prince standing at the altar. Their eyes met. Surprise at the identity of his bride flashed on his face, but he quickly regained his poise.
If Elphaba had not spoken to him outside she'd think he was the dutiful son who believed in the importance of his royal role, he played it perfectly.
She walked down the aisle towards him. He nodded politely.
Elphaba's stomach stopped churning for the first time in weeks. No matter what happened after, he was sparing her his public rejection.
Finally she arrived at the dais and her father let go of her arm. She stepped up to the platform and faced her groom. He reached for the end of her veil where it hung by her arms. Leaning closer, he whispered, "you know, I've heard it's best to start marriages with honesty". She worried he might be mad at her mild trickery, but she saw it had been said with a devilish smirk.
He lifted the veil from her face and the Ozficiant began the ceremony. He droned on, aware his role was practical rather than emotional.
"Now the couple will exchange rings," was the first thing he said that registered to Elphaba as it meant there was something to do.
The prince took a ring from the pillow a servant was holding out to them.
Elphaba lifted her hand. He went to slide on the ring and his fingers brushed hers.
Both pulled back like they'd been shocked or burnt, but it hadn't been pain that surprised Elphaba. She had felt a gentle warmth inviting her to get closer to this man.
There was a long moment before the Ozficiant cleared his throat.
The prince took her hand in his, that warmth crept through her body and she found herself smiling. He used his other hand to slip on the ring. He brushed his thumb up and down her finger in what was clearly an intentional gesture. She looked up and saw his face seemed to be locked into some kind of trance staring at her hand.
"And now, the other ring," the Ozficiant said, surprised he had to usher them along.
Elphaba took his hand and slipped the ring on his finger. She brushed his finger with her thumb in return. She would usually never assume that someone wanted something so forward from her, but she felt compelled to take the chance with him.
"Right, well," the Ozficiant continued. "You may now kiss the bride".
The prince put a hand on her lower back and Elphaba stopped breathing. He leaned over and kissed her quickly before he pulled away. Elphaba wanted to grab his head and pull him back to her for more.
She was blushing as the ceremony concluded.
-
The reception seemed to stretch on forever. Elphaba and the prince sat at the head of the room and watched performers from both their cultures conduct a series of celebratory dances. There was one speech given by the King and Queen thanking Elphaba's family and toasting to the future of this alliance.
Through the hours, Elphaba replayed two minutes of the ceremony over and over in her head. He had been so tender and affectionate with her hand, but he'd kissed her for barely a second. They hadn't spoken at all since his comment about honesty. She was too nervous to even look at him.
As her brain started to tire from boredom, something told her to lean against his chest, but she held herself up.
After the reception, they were led to their chambers for the night. As a servant closed the doors behind them, Elphaba remembered the expectations that usually rested on a newly-married couple.
She had been so sure that the wedding wouldn't be going through that consummation never crossed her mind.
The room was silent other than their breathing.
Her heart screamed at her to stop, but her head got ready to tell him that she understood the reality of their situation. She would tell him that, since they were on the ground floor, she could easily sneak out a window and sleep in her own bed that night. Tomorrow they would be taken to the home his family was providing them and they could work out their individual long-term sleeping arrangements then.
"Can I kiss you?"
Elphaba faced the prince for the first time since the ceremony. "What?"
He rushed to answer her, "Sorry, I mean, we don't have to do anything. We can just tell them we did, I don't think either of our families are that concerned with us producing heirs".
"I..."
"Really, we don't, I promise I don't want you to think-"
"Kiss me?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
The confused look from her reaction to being offered the stone was back. "...I want to".
"You didn't seem to want to before".
"At the ceremony?" She nodded and he stepped closer. "I needed to make it fast with everyone around. I didn't know what I would do if I didn't control myself". His voice got slower and quieter. He stepped closer again. "Can I kiss you?"
-
She watched him sleeping beside her. His bare chest rose and fell with his gentle breathing. He didn’t seem real.
It occurred to Elphaba that this would be the last day she would have to spend in her father’s house. The constant criticism, the resentment he didn’t try to hide, the anger, always ready to lash out at her and only her, would all be miles away. Sitting in bed with this man she had only met yesterday she felt the safety she now knew she had been deprived of her entire life.
His breathing changed and she watched his eyes open. He smiled when he saw her. She leaned over him and kissed him.
He pushed the blankets off of her and his hands began tracing the curves of her stomach and hips.
She climbed on top of him, hungry for more of what she’d tasted the night before. His hand traced down her side then up her inner thigh to the wetness between her legs. His fingers explored her folds before they dipped inside her, she put a hand over her mouth to hide her gasp, but he guided it away. She moaned loudly as his thumb rubbed over the bump above her opening that had turned her into some kind of mewling cat in heat the night before. She rubbed herself against his thigh, leaving behind a patch of damp matted leg hair. She saw him stiffen and used some of her own wetness to lubricate her hand.
She didn’t know who this person was who let someone see her naked and did things she would have previously thought were embarrassing, but it was like her body knew what to do and she didn’t want to fight it. She wrapped her hand around him and he groaned, closing his eyes. When he was ready, she moved up and guided him inside of her. Last night, it had hurt for a moment while he gave her time to adjust, now he fit like they were made for each other. He grabbed her hips and they both moaned as they moved together. Once they found their pace, his hand was back between her legs and she was sure everyone in the house could hear her. She felt the same build inside that had worried her last night before he told her it was a good thing. Now she knew to follow where the feeling was taking her. When it became too much she let it wash over her as she shivered. A minute later, she felt him buck into her as he grunted. His head collapsed onto the pillow behind him.
She climbed off and laid down beside him. He turned to face her. They smiled like they shared a secret. He moved closer and started tracing shapes along her back as she closed her eyes.
She felt like she was about to fall asleep again when her stomach growled and she felt a pang of hunger. She groaned and started to push herself up.
He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her down for another kiss.
“Hey!” She let him kiss her again. “I’m hungry- wait, what’s your name?”
His half-lidded eyes opened fully. “Oh, it’s Fiyero”.
They both laughed as she finally climbed out of bed. She looked around and saw that someone had laid her nightgown out on one of the chairs in the room, she just hadn’t used it.
She saw a trunk she didn’t recognize that she assumed belonged to Fiyero, but no clothes for her other than the dress she’d been married in.
She pulled on the nightgown. “I don’t want to have to close and undo all those buttons again, I’ll get something to wear from my room and then we can go to breakfast”.
He looked like he wanted to pull her back into bed, but got up and went over to his trunk.
Elphaba crept into the hallway, she was sure she was even more visible than usual because of the glow she could feel around her.
She only took a few steps out of the room when she could see movement out of the corner of her eye.
“Elphaba Thropp!” Her father’s voice came out laced with poison. “Are you trying to humiliate me? What are you doing dressed like that? if the king or queen saw you, I-”
Elphaba heard quick footsteps from the room behind her.
Fiyero swung open the door, dressed only in his underwear and a half-buttoned shirt. “Explain to me why you’re talking to my wife in such a way”.
“Your highness, I-” Her father stumbled. Elphaba realized that no one had ever pushed back against the way her father talked to her before and he didn’t know how to handle it. He cleared his throat. “Sir, I apologize-”
“Why are you apologizing to me?”
“Well, I- I thought-”
“To her”.
Elphaba saw her father’s face turn red. “I’m sorry”. He walked away as fast as someone who thought they were about to be sick.
Elphaba was stunned. The man who’d always been a brick wall crumbled because someone challenged how he treated her.
Fiyero reached out and squeezed her hand. “Let me get dressed and I’ll walk you to your room”.