AN: Here it is... the infamous fic in which I kill off Elphaba. No matter what, though, I promise you all a happy ending.

1. A Miracle

Prince Fiyero Hamold Tiggular of the Vinkus was pacing up and down the hallway restlessly, stopping and cocking his head every now and then as he listened for a sound that might tell him what in Oz was going on.

Not for the first time, he softly cursed the midwife under his breath for sending him away. He had heard that a woman being in labour was not a pretty sight – plenty of people had warned him about that. He understood that, but it had not mattered to him. He loved his wife and he wanted to be there for her. She was going through one of the hardest and most painful things a woman could go through in her life and he was not allowed in the room with her. He felt like punching the wall out of mere frustration and helplessness.

He winced when he heard her scream again, followed by the soothing voice of the midwife and Glinda's high-pitched squeaks, though he could not hear what was being said. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the wall, pretending that Elphaba could feel the waves of love and reassurance he sent her way in his mind. Glinda had always told him that positive thoughts could help if you sent them to others. Personally, he found that thought ridiculous, but he figured it was worth a try, anyway. There was no harm in trying, right?

She was whimpering now and the sound broke his heart.

"It's okay, Fae," he whispered, though there was no-one in the empty hallway to hear him. "It's okay. You're doing great, I'm so proud of you… I love you."

Realising he was talking to a wall, he sighed and resumed his pacing. Curse those stupid customs that did not allow men to be in the room when their wives gave birth to their children. Curse his father for wanting to stick to those customs. Curse the midwife for sending him away. Curse Mother Nature for not making this quicker and less painless for Elphaba. Curse all of Oz for –

His train of thought was interrupted by another scream and he actually punched the wall this time, immediately regretting it when a stab of pain shot through his hand and his knuckles started to bleed. He cursed again under his breath, wiping his hand on the hem of his shirt. How could they expect him to just stay out here, unable to do anything at all as he could hear his wife being in excruciating pain?

When he saw his father approaching him from the other side of the hallway, he glared at the older man.

"If looks could kill," King Hamold said drily, "you would be the new king by now."

Fiyero's glare intensified.

Hamold noticed the blood on his son's hand and he shook his head.

"What did you do, Yero?" he asked, taking Fiyero's hand in his own and examining it closely.

"Punch the wall," Fiyero said sullenly.

His father gave him a questioning look. Fiyero yanked his hand back and started pacing again.

Upon hearing another cry from inside the room, he burst out, "It's just not fair!" He whirled around to face his father again, despair in his eyes. "She's my wife, Dad! I love her! I'm all she has… I should be in there with her!"

"Fiyero," Hamold said calmly, "it's tradition that –"

"Who cares about tradition?!" Fiyero demanded gruffly. "Was it traditional for the Crown Prince of the Vinkus to betray Oz by running off with a wanted criminal and leaving his fiancée behind in the Emerald Palace? Was it traditional for him to marry said criminal, who also happened to have green skin? We're not traditional, Dad. I don't care about any of that. I just love her and I'm scared and I want to be with her right now!"

"To do what?" Hamold asked rationally. "There's nothing you can do for her, Yero."

"I can just be there for her," the prince stressed. "Try to reassure her and make her feel better. Let her know she's doing an amazing job and that I'm proud of her and how much I love her. She's all I have, Dad, and I'm all she has!"

"That's not true," said the king patiently. "Your mother and Glinda are both in there with her, Fiyero, and they'll give her all the care and comfort she needs."

"Glinda is probably going to whine later that Fae squashed the bones in her hand," Fiyero muttered, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face, and Hamold laughed.

"Probably," he agreed. "I remember your Aunt Virgyla's hand being completely bruised after your mother gave birth to you."

Fiyero looked at him. "How did you stand it?" he wanted to know. "The waiting, hearing all those sounds but not being able to do anything… being so helpless?"

Hamold smiled softly. "I hardly did stand it," he said. "I was just like you are now – ready to punch the wall or kick down the door and storm inside to be by Lori's side. But it was worth it in the end. I will never forget the moment that door opened and the midwife came out, congratulating me and telling me that I was a father… that I had a healthy son."

Fiyero smiled, too, and Hamold squeezed his son's shoulder.

"It's worth it, Yero," he said. "Soon it will be over, and then that door will open and your mother will come out to tell you that you are a father."

Fiyero could hardly imagine it.

Apparently, he was not the only one, because Hamold shook his head and laughed.

"I never thought I would see the day," he said, blue eyes dancing. "My son, Prince Dancing-Through-Life… a father."

Fiyero stuck out his tongue.

"You deserve this, though, Yero," Hamold added. "You and Elphaba. You've been through so much, both of you… now, with her name cleared and a safe place to live here in the Vinkus, and soon with a family… you can really be happy."

Fiyero shook his head. "Dad," he said truthfully, "I have been beyond happy every single moment I spent with Elphaba."

Hamold looked at him with an expression on his face Fiyero could not quite decipher.

"I'm proud of you, Yero," the king said solemnly. "You are very lucky to have found a love like that. Many people search for that in their lives, but not many people actually find it. I'm very happy for you both."

Fiyero smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

Suddenly, he realised that he heard no more cries coming from inside the room and he looked at his father hopefully. Hamold tilted his head a little to the side, listening intently.

Then another cry came and Fiyero's shoulders slumped when he realised it was still not over. "How long does this take?!"

"Too long," Hamold said immediately. "Think of this, though – for Elphaba, it feels like it's taking at least three times as long as it does for you."

Fiyero grimaced.

To distract himself, he tried to picture what was going on in the room right now. He could envision Glinda sitting perkily on the side of the bed right next to Elphaba, holding her best friend's hand and trying to comfort her and encourage her. The midwife would be there, making sure everything was alright. Lori was most likely on Elphaba's other side, helping her breathe through the pain as she had promised Elphaba she would.

The green girl had been rather nervous about the prospect of giving birth and when she had confessed that fact to Fiyero, he had suggested she go to his mother for some advice. She had, and Lori had explained to both Elphaba and Fiyero what exactly was going to happen and what Elphaba could do to make it as easy for herself as possible. They had practised breathing techniques together and Lori had told her the story of her own experience of giving birth to Fiyero, which had helped Elphaba anticipate what was to come.

He looked at the door. He hoped Lori's tips and stories had helped Elphaba get through it. When she had first realised that she was in labour, she had been rather nervous; but Fiyero had managed to calm her down while Glinda had run to fetch Lori and the midwife. The latter had resolutely kicked him out so that she could examine the green girl, but Fiyero was allowed back in afterwards and he had stayed with his wife right up until the point when she was almost ready to start pushing and he had been ordered to leave again. Thankfully by then she had been a lot calmer already and she had smiled at him as he kissed her one more time and smoothed her hair away from her face.

"I love you," he had told her. "You can do this, Fae, I know you can. You're the strongest and the bravest person I know. You can do this."

"I know," she had replied softly, kissing him again. A flash of pain crossed her face when another contraction hit her, but she had looked up at him with a light in her eyes that he had never seen there before.

"Next time I see you," she'd said, "we'll be parents."

He had grinned like an idiot at that and he had kissed her again. The midwife had practically dragged him away from Elphaba and Lori had all but pushed him out of the door, promising him she would take good care of his wife and telling him sternly to be patient and wait for her to come and get him.

"But you'll come and get me right away, right?" he'd asked her anxiously. "Right after the baby is born?"

"Right after the baby is born," Lori agreed, giving him a reassuring smile. "You will know even before the umbilical cord is cut."

Feeling slightly more reassured, Fiyero had left and Lori had closed the door behind him. He had been out here in the hallway, pacing, ever since.

He stopped again to listen. He could hear the midwife saying something in an urgent voice and Lori responded, sounding a little strange. The midwife said something again and then Galinda spoke in a high, to his ears rather panicked, voice. He tensed, unsure of what was going on, but immensely worried. Was something wrong with the baby? What in Oz was happening in there?

Hamold put his hand on the prince's shoulder again. "It'll be alright, Yero."

Fiyero was about to respond when suddenly, he heard a sound that made all of his worries melt away instantly.

The thin, high wail of a baby.

He held his breath, looking at his father with wide, excited eyes, and Hamold smiled and embraced his son.

"You're a father," he said, his voice muffled and thick with emotion. "Congratulations, Yero."

He pulled away and Fiyero looked at the door longingly, but aside from more voices and the baby's cry, he heard nothing. The door didn't open.

"They're probably cleaning the baby first," said Hamold. "And maybe Elphaba wants to clean up a little, too, after all that. I remember the look of utter horror on Lori's face when I stormed in straight after the midwife showed me you, and your mother was still covered in blood and sweat…"

Fiyero made a face. "I really don't want to hear that about Mum, Dad," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I know what happens during a birth. I've heard the stories. But I don't care what Fae looks like and she knows that, too. She's above all that."

They listened again. The baby cried. The midwife and Lori talked in hushed tones. Glinda shrieked, at which Fiyero rolled his eyes.

"Poor baby," he said, not entirely joking. "Only in this world for less than a minute and already deafened by his godmother's squeals and shrieks."

Hamold chuckled. "Glinda… a godmother." Then his eyes suddenly widened. "Wait a clock-tick. I'm a grandfather!"

Fiyero grinned and clapped his father's shoulder. "So you are."

Hamold had a look of utter wonder on his face. "A grandfather…"

"A father…" Fiyero said in the same tone of voice. They shared a look and burst out laughing, feeling happy, relieved, and giddy with joy.

The door opened and Lori appeared, and Fiyero's gaze was immediately drawn to the small bundle of soft yellow blankets in his mother's arms. Tears sprang to his eyes and his mother said softly, "Congratulations, Yero. It's a boy."

"A boy," Fiyero breathed and Lori placed the bundle in his arms. He stared down at the baby's face in wonder, trailing his index finger down the tiny nose. The baby wrinkled his nose and Fiyero smiled through his tears. "He's beautiful…"

"Yero?"

He looked up. Only now did he notice the tired look on his mother's face and the sadness in her eyes. His father suddenly looked worried, too, and Fiyero's smile faded as his throat clenched shut.

"What's going on?" he croaked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lori lowered her eyes. Fiyero saw the blood staining her skirts and suddenly felt nauseous.

"Mum?"

"I am so, so sorry, Fiyero," Lori said softly and he could hear the pain in her voice.

"No," he whispered, not wanting to believe it. "No, she's okay, Mum. She's okay. She has to be."

Lori shook her head, tears in her eyes now.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she said again, reaching out to place her hand on Fiyero's arm, but he pulled away, still shaking his head.

"There were complications," Lori said. "She lost too much blood and there was nothing we could do… she didn't make it."

Before she had even finished speaking, Fiyero had already pushed past her and into the room. The midwife gave him a sympathetic look when she saw him, but he ignored her and strode straight to the bed, kneeling down next to it.

"Fae?" he whispered, stroking her soft, raven hair away from her forehead. "Fae, look. We have a son." His voice caught in his throat. "We have a son, Fae, please… just open your eyes, sweetheart. Come on, wake up…"

"Fiyero?"

He looked up. Glinda was sitting on the bed on Elphaba's other side, her eyes red from crying, a few stray tears still on her cheeks. She looked horrible.

"She's gone, Fiyero," the blonde choked out, fresh tears bubbling up in her eyes and spilling over. "I'm so sorry… she's gone…"

Fiyero shook his head stubbornly. "No," he declared. "She's not gone. She can't be."

"Yero –"

"No!" His shout woke the baby, who opened his eyes and immediately started crying. Fiyero cried, too, cradling the baby boy to his chest. "No…"

There was blood everywhere. The sheets were covered in it, as well as Elphaba's nightgown and Glinda, Lori, and the midwife's skirts. Elphaba's skin had faded to a lacklustre green. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her eyes were closed. She didn't look good, but she also didn't look dead. She was probably just tired. Exhausted from giving birth. He couldn't blame her. She just needed to rest and then she would be okay.

He continued to stroke Elphaba's hair, whispering to her all the while. "You can rest now, Fae, it's okay, I know you're tired. You did great. You know that, right? You did an amazing job. Just look at our son, Fae – he's beautiful, just like you… I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead. The baby in his arms gurgled softly.

"Fiyero," his mother began worriedly, but he ignored her.

"We should get him out of here," Hamold muttered to his wife, clearly just as worried as she was, and she nodded.

Hamold left the room as Lori gently tried to pry Fiyero away from his wife's body.

"Yero," she said, gently but firmly. "I know this must be very hard to accept, but you need to snap out of it. Can you do that for me?"

"Let go of me!" Fiyero snarled, yanking his arm from his mother's grip.

Glinda's lip trembled. "Fiyero –"

"Just leave me alone!" he growled, returning to his place next to Elphaba. Somewhere in his mind, he registered how cold her skin was and how her chest did not move, but he refused to acknowledge it. She was going to be fine. Elphaba was going to be perfectly alright.

His father returned with two guards. Together, Lori and Glinda managed to take the baby from Fiyero and they hurried out of the way, watching in fear and worry as the guards forcibly took the prince away from his wife.

They removed him from the room, his anguished screams echoing through the hallways of the castle.

I may or may not have been pathetic enough to shed a tear whilst writing this.