Fiyero arrived at the abandoned corn exchange earlier than Elphaba had told him one afternoon. He let himself in and locked the door again, wanting to surprise her, not surprised to find that she wasn't there. Though it was still far too early for Lurlinemas, he tied a bit of green and gold ribbon into a bow, to match the candles, and hung it over her door for luck.

He paced, waiting, and blew icy clouds up towards the skylight, and then went to build up a fire, because it was freezing, and had it burning when her footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Fiyero turned as Elphaba threw the door open. Oblivious to his presence, she slammed it shut and locked it violently, then shoved the key in the pocket of her coat. Wearily, she pressed a hand to her face, turned, and saw him.

Fiyero could have sworn she actually jumped. One hand reached under her coat, for what he didn't know, but then he took a step back and the light fell on his face, and her face went tight. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I-" He was at a loss for words. "I just thought I'd- " But she held up a hand and shook her head, looking down. When she put her head back up, she looked completely drained.

"Yero, you scared me."

"I didn't mean to," Fiyero said, a little scared himself, because only Oz knew what she would have done had she not seen that it was him, and because he'd never seen her quite so frightened. But Elphaba shook her head again.

"I know," she told him, "it's all right," and crossed the room to her bed, so that her back was to him. She moved differently, he thought, cautiously. She took off her coat and laid it across the bed, and was recovered enough by the time she turned to glance at the stove and offer him a small smile.

"Surprise visitors with benefits," she said, coming back to him to stand near the fire. "Thanks." But she was avoiding his eyes, and he saw that.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, and then, looking up into his face: "I'm fine, Fiyero."

He wasn't swayed. "You bolted in here like something was chasing you-" He cut off as she bit her lip and looked at her, eyebrows raised. She tilted her head, then nodded curtly.

"Something was?"

Elphaba looked back up at him, exasperated. "Yes, I was being followed. No, I am not anymore. Yes, I'm safe now that I'm here. No, you do not want to know how I lost them. And yes-" She closed her eyes, then nodded again. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. "Yes, I was terrified that they would catch me. They came that close." She shrugged, opened her eyes. "All in a day's work."

Fiyero sighed unhappily. "Fae-"

"No." She turned on him. "Don't say it, don't say another word. You're going to tell me it's too dangerous for me, that you worry about me, and I'm sorry, Fiyero, I can't help that. But you will not tell me that what I fight for might put me in jeopardy." Her voice shook; she stopped, and swallowed, and continued. "Because I already know that." She turned away from him and towards the stove, so that her voice was slightly muffled. "But so many others have been through far worse, and will go through worse than that. And it needs to stop." She waited, but he was silent, and she stuck her hands out towards the warmth and went on. "So I get chased. So I get scared. So something goes wrong. Not everything happens as it's planned."

Over her shoulder he saw that her hands were trembling. He reached to put his hands on her shoulders, but when he touched her she hissed in pain and jerked away. He pulled back. "Fae?"

"It's nothing-"

"Elphaba."

There was still, still moment. Finally she sighed and nodded and allowed him to undo the top two buttons down the back of her dress, to pull the collar down off her shoulder. She didn't flinch as he trailed gentle fingers over the dark hand-shaped bruise, over what looked like a half-healed scrape. Now he knew why she had seemed to carry herself differently when she came in, almost carefully.

"Was that today?"

"Two days ago," she told him softly as he carefully redid the buttons, turning her head so he could hear. "Like I said, not everything happens like it's planned."

"Not even life?" he joked half-heartedly, grimly.

Her breath caught in her throat as he spoke. She shivered, crossing her arms and wrapping them tight around herself, pressing them low against her stomach. "Especially not life," she answered wearily, but in her voice the words sounded different, and he couldn't tell if she had meant life or Life.

Elphaba dropped her arms and paced the length of the room, once, twice, before she spoke again. "It's just- I'm sorry, Fiyero. It's been a little- rough, lately. More and more our plans fail, more and more things like this-" she gestured at the door, and he took it to mean the chase, rather than the existence of doors- "happen, and I- I just-"

Fiyero couldn't take it anymore. He stepped into her path and grabbed her shoulders, gently, stopping her. The green woman looked up, surprised at the sudden contact. The firelight shadowed her face, made her look tired and hunted. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and Fiyero shook his head- don't be. She tried to smile, and put a hand up to her face, and then gave up and buried her face in his shoulder. He put his arms around her, wary of other bruises, painfully aware of how hard she was shaking. "Damn," Elphaba whispered, after a moment, choked-sounding, and pulled back to wipe at her eyes with her sleeve. She looked up into his face. "I'm sorry, Yero," she said again, "it's just been a ridiculously long day…" She shook her head. "And I don't think tonight's the best either."

"I understand," he told her, and she nodded and leaned her head back against his shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again, softly.

"Fiyero-" She pulled back, loving, exasperated. "I'm fine. I'm just-" As if to punctuate the remark, she yawned. "Tired. But-" She looked up at him. "I don't want you to leave."

"Who said I was leaving?" Fiyero stepped back, keeping hold of her hands. "If you want me to stay, I will."

"I do," she said quietly.

Fiyero was unsettled- this was nothing like Elphaba, and it worried him. "Then I will," he told her, "you know I will," and she bit her lip and kissed him, quickly, gratefully.

She dozed off in a matter of minutes, head pillowed on his shoulder. But try as he might, Fiyero couldn't do the same. So he shifted carefully so as not to wake her, and stared up at the snow falling on the skylight until, eventually, the steady rhythm of her breathing drew him down to join her.

Usually I can't understand Elphaba and Fiyero's relationship in the book at all, but I thought I'd give it a try.