Winter
Oy, what a day. Each step Fiyero took up the spiraling stairwell was agony. Why, oh why did he take on a double shift?
Oh, right. He needed money, and since it was New Year's Eve he got double pay. It was better than being told what a complete disappointment he was to the entire Tigelaar bloodline. Sure, there were maniacs who wiped out entire tribes or were crazy and made their horse a member of the council, but at least they hadn't gotten kicked out of ten schools since they turned sixteen.
Fiyero leaned heavily against his door and began the arduous task of trying to get the key in the lock. The light in the hall was faded and the only good it seemed to do was show that there was a lamp there.
The key made it into the hole and turned much more easily than usual.
Shuffling inside, he dropped his keys into the bowl he kept by the door, sighing heavily as they dropped to the ground instead.
"I'll pick it up later," he muttered, too exhausted to care, and patted for the kitchen.
Something was off, but he eventually found the icebox. He opened it to find it completely empty. Damn. He thought he at least had bottles of milk and grape juice he got free from working as a milkman.
Oh well, he'd deal with his hunger when he woke up. Usually he got some free meals at his second job washing dishes for a nice restaurant, but he'd worked a double shift and used his free meal in between said shifts. They'd been so busy that by the time he finished washing the dishes the kitchen was completely closed and all leftovers had been put away, thrown away, or claimed.
Fiyero could just barely see the outline of his couch and flopped onto it. He was just too exhausted to try and figure out where his room was, and if he tried he'd probably trip down the step and break his neck. He could always just about sleep anywhere anyway.
A dream tried to form as soon as his head hit the cushion. There was music in it he didn't recognize. He needed to write it down, quick!
"WAKE UP, YOU!"
Fiyero jolted awake as something hit him over the head. He snorted and wiped the drool off the side of his face before looking up into a green, rage-filled face backed by the overhead light.
"You're sleeping?" the stranger growled. "You break into a person's home and just fall asleep?!"
"Hey!" he protested and sat up. "This isn't your home, this is my—"
He blinked and looked around the space. The door to his bedroom was decidedly missing, replaced instead by a ladder to a loft, the kitchen was on the opposite side of the door, and his piano and all the little things he bought to decorate his home were missing.
Everything was bare except for the fainting couch he collapsed onto and a few boxes.
"This isn't my flat," he said in amazement.
"You think?"
Fiyero rubbed the last bit of sleep from his eyes and worked out the crick in his neck before standing up. He fixed his apron and looked up at the woman. She had a very angular face and her dark hair was frizzing out of a plait. She was undoubtedly green, that wasn't his half-asleep brain making anything up.
He recovered his keys from their spot on the floor and stuck them into the lock of this flat, finding they did turn. He studied the faded number on the door and stepped out to find his door right next to it. He tried the key, needing to jiggle it a little like always to open it.
"Huh," he said and looked at the woman. "You moved in this morning, didn't you? I heard you speaking to the super, but they painted over the peep hole and I wasn't ready to introduce myself."
She paled and ran to try her key in his lock, finding it turned.
"Sweet, Oz," she muttered.
He glanced over her nearly empty apartment.
"I swear, I didn't steal anything," he said.
She took a cursory look at it all.
"Everything seems to be accounted for," she sighed.
He blinked. "Really?"
She scowled, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself.
"Just go," she huffed and shooed at him. "Go on!"
"Alright, hold your britches," he said and paused halfway out the door. "I… don't have very much myself, but if you—I don't know—need food or something, you're welcome to stop in for a meal. I only work late on the weekends."
"I don't need help," she sniffed.
"Suit yourself. If you change your mind, you've got a key!" He winked at her.
She scowled and he hurried into his flat, switching the light on this time just to be sure. He opened the ice box to find the milk, juice, and a sandwich he so kindly made for himself.
Wide awake now, he took the sandwich and bottle of milk over to his piano and sat at it. He trilled the keys softly and tried to remember what he heard in his dream before he was woken up.
Eventually, he gave up and went to bed.
Spring
It took a while for him to meet his neighbor again. It wasn't likely for them to meet with his erratic schedule, but he heard her occasionally.
One evening, when he was cooking himself dinner, a knock came at his door. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he answered the door to find her standing there. She looked very thin and pale.
"I… I hope dinner is still on the table," she said.
"Actually, it's still in the pan," he joked.
She gave him a blank look, so he stepped aside to let her in.
"I'm Fiyero Tiggular," he said
He changed the spelling slightly when he was disowned. Everyone would know he was the former crown prince of the Vinkus, but it was the principle of the matter.
"Elphaba Thropp," she replied and the name had a ring of familiarity.
She looked around his flat and he was glad it wasn't in a bad state. It wasn't exactly clean; his laundry was still drying on the rack and he had papers scattered around, but he didn't have anything coming to life beneath the couch at least.
Fiyero tried to keep his place clean, if not for himself then at least for any potential partners he might bring over. Though the most action he saw these days were bored housewives flirting with him as he dropped off the milk.
Whoever started the rumor that milkmen were the cause of a lot of affairs clearly never had to deliver bottles of milk and juice.
He could not stop inside for a cup of coffee and a chat, he had at least a hundred other stops on his route before he had to bring the batch of bottles back for sanitization and at least half of those stops required multiple trips into apartment buildings, which was what happened when you lived in a massive, multi-level city.
Fiyero got out another bowl from his mismatched set he bought at a second-hand store.
"I'm not the best cook," he said apologetically.
"Considering I nearly broke through the window of our ground floor neighbor, I'll eat just about anything," Elphaba said.
"Oh, did she make her meat pie?"
She nodded and her stomach whined in response.
He groaned. "I nearly did the same thing when I first moved in and was still trying to find a job."
"I have a job," she said, sounding a little defensive. "I just… I won't get paid for a couple weeks."
"I'm not judging," he promised. "When I moved in, I barely had a thing to my name and the only thing this apartment had was that piano."
"It's not yours?"
"Nope, I'm guessing it was deemed too much of a hassle to move out," he said. "But I was glad. It saved me the trouble of buying one and getting it up here somehow. Seemed like a sign from the gods that I did the right thing in moving here."
He scooped the rice and curry into their bowls and gave Elphaba hers first.
"Thank you," she said.
He nodded and switched on the radio before sitting down at the table. Usually he ate on the couch, but he had company. Elphaba sat in the chair across from him and inhaled her meal.
"So, what brings you to the Emerald City?" Fiyero asked.
She got a cagey look and focused on scraping the inside of her bowl instead.
"Me? I was running away," he said. "Or maybe, I was running toward something. I guess both. Running from the responsibilities bestowed on me by birth, but running towards my freedom."
Her fork stopped scraping, but she didn't look up.
"Me too," she said softly. "I'm the same."
"Well, look at that," he said. "Ten minutes and we found something in common!"
She smiled slightly.
"What do you do for work?" she asked and glanced at the piano. "Song writer? I hear you playing sometimes."
"If it bothers you—"
"Not at all. I like hearing the music," she said. "You play beautifully."
The comment warmed him.
"Thank you," he said. "I am a songwriter, but to pay the bills I wash dishes for a restaurant and deliver milk. I had about twenty other jobs before those two stuck. I didn't know what the hell I was doing when I got cut off. Though I don't regret it at all."
"I just got hired part time at a flower shop," Elphaba said. "The other part time is for a sandwich shop. Both for deliveries. I'll be putting my bicycle to good use at least until I can get a job at a library. Put my degree to good use."
"You need a degree to work at a library?" he wondered then cringed as she frowned.
"Well, they don't let just anyone work at a library," she said. "There's a lot to it you know, it's not just shelving the books or checking them out. If it was just that, I'd just as well get a job working at a grocer."
"That, uh, that didn't come out right. I guess… well what do I know? I barely set foot in them."
She softened slightly.
"You do need one," she confirmed. "I always loved history and it seemed like the best way to preserve our present for future historians is to focus on preserving knowledge."
"Never thought of it like that," he said. "I'm sorry for offending you. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
She hesitated and glanced over at the piano.
"Well, there's a song you were playing last night," she said. "I couldn't quite catch all of it."
"Which one?" he asked.
She hummed a few bars and he knew which one she was speaking of.
"It's my favorite," she said.
Fiyero stood and went over to the piano. He flexed his fingers and played the lilting tune. Elphaba hummed the words under her breath until she was singing them. Fiyero almost stopped playing, wanting to hear more of her.
After the song, they talked until they were yawning too much to justify staying up any longer.
"I have to get up early," Fiyero sighed. "I guess I'll see you when I see you?"
"Don't be a stranger," she agreed. "Goodnight, Fiyero."
"Goodnight, Elphaba."
As he crawled into bed, he thought of his neighbor. Her raven hair, her downturned eyes and long face that gave the impression of perpetual woe. Her green skin was strange and unique, yet there was something enchanting about it all the same.
Fiyero tapped his fingers against his mattress, wondering how she would sound if she were a melody.
Summer
That answer came to him a whole season later. Elphaba was a regular guest for dinner, quickly contributing when she had the money for groceries. She helped him refine his skills, but he could eat anything she made all day.
She'd been a good shoulder when he was rejected from yet another audition and he hoped he was the same when she received her own application rejections.
Every so often, he would come home to find her lugging a piece of furniture up the long flight of stairs and he would help her. Her apartment grew less bare and his was less lonely.
He liked the mornings when they were both at home the best. When the city was still quiet and the air seemed fresher.
Fiyero didn't become a morning person until he was on his own. He wasn't exactly serenading the sunrise, but he wasn't lying in bed for hours anymore trying to find the will to get up.
Maybe it was just the early hours for the milk delivery that made eight o'clock seem late.
This morning was like any other. Elphaba's balcony stuck out farther than his, so with the angle of his piano, he had a good view of when she stepped out with her morning mug of coffee.
She tipped her face up to the sun's rays and closed her eyes, a serene smile on her face. She breathed deeply, then busied to tend to her plants. Her balcony was near to bursting with herbs and flowers, the sprigs and cuttings came from her job at the flower shop. She lightly touched the ivy that was working its way up the post.
Almost on their own accord, Fiyero's fingers started to move, picking out only the good notes. The tune was sad, wistful, but graceful and poignant. He closed his eyes, feeling out the melody.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Elphaba staring at him. He sent her a grin and quickly wrote down the melody before it disappeared into the air.
"That's beautiful," Elphaba said. "What do you call it?"
"I don't know yet," he said. "I'll let you know when I do."
He worked most of the morning while Elphaba sat on her balcony and read.
"I'm making lunch if you're interested," she called out around noon.
"Color me interested," he said.
Fiyero couldn't wait to drop off the wagon and head home. It'd been a long morning. Had it not occurred to these people that if they didn't stop bitching at him about the heat they would be less likely to worry about their stuff getting too warm? Or at the very least not cause that problem for the others?
He looked out at the street and grinned upon seeing a familiar braid.
"Hey, good-lookin', need a ride?" he called.
Elphaba (and a few other women) turned to look at him. Elphaba quickly dropped the rude gesture she made once she recognized her friend.
"If you're offering," she said and hurried to climb in. "Sorry for the…"
She waved her hand and he laughed.
"No, I should've just called your name," he said.
"Is there room for one more?" a sweet voice called. The owner belonged to a knock out of a woman with eyelashes that fluttered enough to cool the entire city.
Fiyero clicked his tongue to get the horse moving again.
"You won't get in trouble for giving a ride?" Elphaba asked.
"Eh, in for a penny," Fiyero said. "I'm already late coming back from my route, what's a few minutes more to drop off a pal? How'd the interview go?"
She shrugged, then broke into a wide grin.
"I got the job!" she said. "You're looking at the newest employee of the Ozma the Knowledgeable Library."
"Aw, El, that's swell!" he said. "I'm happy for you! We should festivate tonight!"
"Oh, Yero, we don't have to," she sighed.
"Sure we do. We need to celebrate you being able to quit your soul-sucking jobs. I need to live vicariously through you."
She rested a hand on his arm.
"Your time will come," she said. "You write such beautiful songs, and when you're rich and famous you can tell that asshole manager of yours to suck it!"
Fiyero laughed. "I had the wealth and fame and it didn't make me one bit happy."
They didn't talk much about their pasts. Fiyero knew she was the eldest daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland, just as she knew he was the former Crown Prince of the Vinkus, but neither liked to dwell on what was. What mattered was that they were determined to make their lives what they wanted them to be.
"I'd be happy just being able to make ends meet doing what I love," he continued. "Maybe have enough to go on vacation every so often. Maybe take my best girl to a fancy meal every once in a while. For now, I hope you'll settle for a place with paper napkins and vinyl seating."
"I'm the only girl in your life right now," she said.
"And don't you forget it," he said, poking her in the side.
Fiyero dropped Elphaba off in front of their building. He hopped out and ran around to the back to grab their order.
"Chocolate milk?" Elphaba gasped.
"Well, if you got the job it's a treat and if you didn't you can drown your sorrows in it," he said. "Now, I'll pick you up this evening for dinner. I won't take no for an answer!"
"I'll be ready," she said and kissed his cheek.
A warmth unrelated to the day spread through his chest. He watched her head inside and couldn't stop grinning all the way back to drop off the wagon and he whistled all the way home even though it probably annoyed everyone on the street car.
Autumn
Elphaba pedaled home from the bakery, the cake secure in the basket strapped to the back of her bicycle.
Home.
Such a simple idea had seemed impossible to her this time last year, but here she was. She made decent money at her job, but even when she had enough saved up to move, she wouldn't dream of going anywhere else.
The building wasn't perfect. Some neighbors were keen on letting everyone know when they were fighting with their partner and even more keen on letting everyone know when they made up. The power went out several times during the summer, trying to get anything fixed was like pulling teeth, the floors slanted, there were no right angles anywhere in the whole place, but it was hers.
Hers and Fiyero's. That's what she would miss most of all if she moved. She loved climbing the stairs at the end of the day and hearing his music trailing down the hall. She loved having someone to talk to over dinner. She loved having someone who would run across the street to say hello if they happened to bump into each other around town.
She loved those moments when she could see him from her balcony and he was just lost in his music.
Why on earth would she give any of this up just to save a little more time to get to work?
Elphaba didn't know she could ever be this happy.
When she made it inside the building, she hoisted her bike onto her shoulder and took the winding staircase to her apartment. She only took a minute to stuff her bike inside before pivoting to Fiyero's door with the cake in hand. After a quick knock to announce her presence, she let herself in.
Fiyero was sitting at his couch staring at a sheet. Sheet music?
"Yero?"
He jumped and looked at her.
"El! I didn't hear you come in," he said.
"Well? Is this sympathy cake or celebration cake?" she demanded eagerly.
He hesitated and looked at the paper again.
"I don't know," he said.
Elphaba tipped her head and set the box down on the counter, then sat next to him.
The paper turned out to be a contract.
"Did you already sign it?" she asked.
"Almost," he admitted. "But then I thought you might tell me that was stupid."
She wanted to say to the contrary, but sighed and nodded.
"Give it here."
He handed it over for her to read over. She rolled the words around, thinking of every possible interpretation.
"It's not a fame and fortune contract," she said. "But it is non-exclusive and you retain the rights to all original songs. Any artist who records gets a pretty hefty percentage, but you do also get a percentage of the royalties as well. I don't know if that's fair or not, but it still relies on the music being recorded."
"So if they decide they don't want to pay me they can just shelve it?" he asked.
"Potentially," she said. "It's non-exclusive, so you could always take your songs elsewhere if they won't release them. It does say here that you will be paid a salary to record piano for albums. I doubt they would pay you a salary at all if you were no good. I would clarify on that matter before signing it, at least show them you aren't an idiot who can be taken advantage of."
"Or that I'm an idiot with a very smart friend who won't let me get taken advantage of," he said with a light grin and looked back down at the contract contemplatively.
"Still, it's a foot in the door," he said. "They score for the pictures, too. I'd get higher royalties on that."
"You would," Elphaba agreed. "Make the amendment, bring it back. If they refuse, well then, there are other companies."
"Or it means I'm not good enough to be worth negotiating," he muttered.
"Of course you are," she said and put an arm around him. "I know you are."
He leaned into her. "Thanks, El."
After a long moment, he straightened up.
"Enough about me." He stuck the contract into the portfolio Elphaba got him for his birthday. "I am famished, let's get dinner going. How was your day by the way?"
"I'm going to petition to allow librarians to hunt patrons for sport," Elphaba said and followed him into the kitchen. She put her apron on and handed him his.
"Did someone return a book in multiple pieces again?" he asked.
"They returned their book with a bookmark stuck inside," Elphaba said and tossed the packet of fish onto the counter. "The bookmark just happened to be a slice of cheese."
"Oh, Oz!"
Elphaba could never seem to stay upset about her days with Fiyero to talk to. They cooked side by side and she was looking forward to a quiet evening together.
Winter
Oz, was it cold. The Emerald City got quite a bit of rain and the snow was no different. Elphaba felt sorry for Fiyero having to work out in the cold, but he just said he felt more sorry for the horse. It never got this cold in Munchkinland, even though it was the same latitude.
Elphaba shivered and wished she could ride her bike. At least it would get her out of the cold faster.
Thank goodness she thought to stock up on food and water. The radio said a blizzard was going to blow in overnight. Her boss already told everyone not to come in tomorrow if there was one. New Year's Eve was the day after tomorrow and Lurlinemas was a few days later, so they decided it would just be an extended holiday.
That day had been busier than usual with people gathering reading materials to prepare for their time indoors.
Elphaba was frozen stiff when she made it home and was glad she knew the way home by heart. Everything was just covered in a sheet of white like icing. She nearly missed the door and was disheartened to find it frozen solid. She'd had to fetch hot water from the café on the corner to thaw it.
By then, her teeth were chattering like a wind up toy and her joints were so stiff she was trying to figure out how she was going to make it up the stairs. She yanked on the door and was shocked when it suddenly swung open.
"El!" Fiyero exclaimed.
He was more of a shape, completely bundled up from head to toe. One of her shawls was in use as a scarf to cover his head and face, his wool coat was buttoned all the way down, and his boots were bursting, telling her he was wearing multiple pairs of socks.
"I was just on my way to search for you," he said. "I was getting worried. Here, hurry in."
He pulled her into the building and yanked the door shut before the cold could blast through.
Elphaba could have cried. Fiyero was worried about her. He was planning on going out to find her because she wasn't home yet.
He wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and helped her up the stairs. She was past the point of plain cold and now felt like her hands and feet were on fire.
Finally, they made it to his apartment and the warmth was immediate. Elphaba had grown up with Lurlinemas, though her participation was very limited, so she had been fascinated by the Vinkun Festival of Lights Fiyero insisted on festivating. He had decorated strings of lights around the border of the living room and had a stand that held seven candles that would be lit starting at sundown on the solstice to represent the days growing longer.
"You're soaked to the bone," Fiyero fussed and helped her out of her layers.
When she was wringing herself out in the tub, he brought her some of his clothes to change into. Dry at last, she curled up on his couch and he wrapped her up in blankets and his comforter.
Fiyero made them a pot of spiced milk and set it up on the coffee table before joining her under the comforter. He wrapped an arm around her and held her even after her shivering eased. Elphaba burrowed closer as she told him about her day.
For dinner, they warmed up the cream stew she made the day before and listened to the radio through the evening. Half of it was a weather report, warning people to stay indoors unless absolutely necessary and giving tips and tricks for hunkering down for the next few days.
Ice crackled against the windows, the wind shrieked and moaned, and the building creaked against it all. Yet it didn't scare Elphaba like it might have last year. She wasn't uneasy in the slightest.
In fact, she was slipping off to sleep.
"El, it's getting late," Fiyero murmured.
She groaned and shook her head. She was too full of warm milk and cozy in the plush cushions to even think about moving.
"Alright, up we go."
Instead of carrying her to her apartment like she thought, he put her in his own bed and quickly replaced the blankets over her. He brushed his teeth and let her know he put a toothbrush on the counter for when she finally got up.
"Is this okay?" he asked as he climbed in next to her.
She nodded. Her bed was set up on the loft, which had a lovely breeze in the summer but was miserably cold in the winter. Fiyero's bed was more comfortable than hers anyway.
It didn't take long at all for Elphaba to fall asleep.
The Solstice/New Year's Eve began with the Emerald City completely coated in snow. Elphaba collected things from her apartment to bring into Fiyero's since he had fewer windows. She brought over the food she had and more blankets as well as towels to line the windows and balcony doors.
They were ready to hunker down through the holiday.
Elphaba, thankfully, didn't feel sick after walking home in the snow and spent most of the morning reading to Fiyero and he spent the afternoon playing songs for her, some familiar, others he wrote, and the rest from projects he needed to practice for recordings.
In the evening they played games and ate good food.
It was companionable. It was perfect.
"I wonder if they'll try to set off fireworks tonight," Elphaba mused, peering out the window even though all she could see was her reflection in the panes.
"Wouldn't surprise me," Fiyero said. "The Wizard loves fireworks, he'll probably launch them from the palace. Shall we exchange gifts?"
"You didn't have to get me anything," she said, despite the fact she had several for him.
"I know," he said and retrieved hers from the cabinet.
She had wrapped his in shiny green paper while he wrapped hers in a sparkling blue. Fiyero eagerly ripped into the first gift.
"Socks!" he said delightedly. "How traditional."
Elphaba chuckled. She had also crocheted him a hat, scarf, and glove set, but thought he'd find socks funny after he complained about receiving them as a child. Additionally, she bought him a chain for his pocket watch since his old one broke.
For her, he bought her a book she had been wanting to read, but was unable to acquire.
"I still have some connections, it seems," he said after she gushed over it.
He also gave her some beautiful scarves knowing how much she enjoyed wearing them, and a simple necklace.
"I have one more for you," he said and went to his piano. "It's the song that made the agent decide to sign me on for the record company and it's actually going to be recorded next week."
"Oh, Yero, that's wonderful!" Elphaba gasped and sat next to him on the bench. "You've been working so hard."
"I have you to thank," he said.
"What for? I didn't play the piano for you," she said.
"I just meant your support," he said. His expression was so soft she nearly looked away for how flustered it made her feel. "You encouraged me and you inspire me."
That made her heart flutter. "How could I be inspiring?"
Fiyero smiled and set up some sheet music. "For Elphaba" was written at the top.
"I'll show you," he said and began to play.
She recognized the melody, he played it once in the summer but she never heard him play it again.
"If you were a melody, you'd sound just like this," he said.
It was wistful and sad but the notes were light. Elphaba didn't know if she really was as graceful and gentle and beautiful as the song sounded, but the idea that someone like Fiyero, or even anyone at all, would think of her like that filled her with such… joy.
She could only watch as Fiyero leaned into the music. She loved watching him play. How serene he looked when he could only feel the music. As the final notes faded, he opened his eyes and looked at her.
She didn't know who made the first move or if they silently made the decision together, though the semantics didn't really matter.
As Fiyero kissed her, Elphaba was sure she could hear the swell of the orchestra that lived in his mind. His arms wound around her and his fingers tangled into her hair.
The jarring clang of a discordant chord sent them apart. Elphaba quickly moved her elbow away from the keys and laughed sheepishly. He grinned at her and pressed his forehead to hers.
Bells rang and distant fireworks boomed, signaling the toll of the thirteenth hour and the official start of the new year.
"I can't wait to see what this year brings," he murmured.
"Me neither," she agreed, swiping a thumb along his lower lip, then pulled him back in for another kiss and another.