Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She loves me—not for what I can give her, for I have nothing. She knows my flaws, yet still loves me for me.

Four.

The number four appeared significant throughout his life. Sometimes two, but four, seemed to dominate.

At four years old, he began his daily schooling, both inside and outside of the castle. Outside the castle walls, there was hunting, tracking, scouting, archery, and the like. Those were his outside subjects, carried out in the morning hours before the sun rose too high and game hid in their holes or dens. Math, politics, language, and history were the afternoon classes inside the castle walls. All subjects involved teachers and experts in their field. His teachers changed based on the curriculum, but his Horse was present often during morning classes, and his mother would drop in to visit during the afternoon subjects.

At age eight, his father added to his learning by teaching him Winkie duties. The maps of the Vinkus. Allies and their strongholds. Citizens’ roles and the prince’s future responsibilities were the focused discussions. As protector of the citizens, everyone would look to the Tigelaars to keep peace and prosperity in the western lands their ancestors laid claim. Generations passed down this responsibility to ensure its continuation. The eight-year-old boy faced a significant burden, forced to pledge his commitment before all Winkie citizens. That year, his father also introduced him to firearms.

Four years later, he had the official meeting with his future wife. Both of his parents were the tutors in preparation and, as the girl was older, the age and height gap intimidated him. He escorted her awkwardly around the castle, the crook of his arm not fitting hers. His future wife spoke little, only repeating variations of ten words, “Hello. No, thank you. That would be fine. Goodbye.” He entertained her, showed her the grounds so she would know exactly where she would live, and held her hand at a certain spot by their lake. They told him to whisper sweet sayings in her ear. Unbeknownst to his parents, the ordeal nearly caused the young prince a mental breakdown, hiding in his room for days after.

At sixteen, he learned what needed to be done with his future wife. While Fiyero was interested in this subject, the thought of doing that with her made it less appealing. They had methods for teaching and practicing; the head horseman took him to a nearby town to accomplish this task. Observational learning wasn’t what he expected; performing before others proved impossible. The head horseman cursed at him, hoping to shame the privileged boy into some action. Humiliated, Fiyero learned one thing: how to blank his mind and block out his thoughts. This mechanism for coping would prove to serve him well in future days.

-

Despite these bumpy terrains on his road to learning, his mother “released him into the wild,” as she coined the phrase, after he turned eighteen. Fiyero felt ready when he started university. Shy and unsure of the best way to fit in with his peers, they viewed him as a curiosity. When they learned of his title as a prince, he seemed useful. His isolated upbringing made him excited when the students invited him out.

His peers were nice to an extreme, and it was on his fifth outing that they introduced him to the drink. He showed his kindness by treating them often. The more he bought rounds and entertained his classmates, the more they seemed to overlook his strange Winkie accent and formal behaviors. Also, thanks to the drink, Fiyero practiced those bedroom skills introduced to him by the head horseman. Fiyero explored both girls and boys who wanted to try him out. He felt wanted for the first time. He felt free.

Mistaking being a prince for being liked, he became heartbroken on a cold February evening when he overheard his classmates speaking about him in the pub. After he paid the barkeeper, his friends thought he had left, and he overheard them.

Fiyero is too literal when he talks.

His mannerisms are so proper that he makes me laugh.

He kisses and fucks like his personality: boring.

That prince is rich, yet dresses like a commoner.

The Winkie might be handsome if his baggy clothes and long hair weren’t a disaster.

His grades are all he has going for him.

He’s too quiet, and when he speaks, he only talks about school.

He studies all the time unless we drag him out.

We invite him, so he picks up the tab.

He doesn’t seem to know how to relax.

He walks around like he has a princely pole stuck up his arse.

I can’t tell who is stiffer, his Horse or him.

Fiyero doesn’t understand how the real world works.

That Winkie is naïve.

He is stupid.

Fiyero’s heart sank when he realized his friends only considered him useful for covering bar tabs or providing back-stabbing entertainment. Depressed, he drank and flunked himself out of the second semester. He refused to go back, especially when his parents offered to pay a large sum to secure his return. It was one of the first times the son dug in his heels and did not appease them. Not understanding the boy’s sudden anger, they gave in and let him have his way. It was only one year, after all.

That summer, the Winkie Prince thought and drank, and thought, and drank, and drank. He was of age and visited a few lady houses, thanks to his father’s guidance, “Get it out now while you can”. Fiyero found himself in the thralls of male companionship, too. While in a drunken stupor, he often visited different establishments where it was normal to have multiple partners and the activities continued late into the night.

His initial foray into the wild was exactly that.

-

In his second year as a new university freshman, Fiyero embraced his role as prince. Being stupid. Never allowing himself to be naïve again, he had designed a mental playbook that dictated rules and boundaries on his terms. He would flunk out before the first semester ended. His dress, hair, mannerisms, and spoken words would be immaculate. He’d assess which students would be smitten during his first week. From that group, he would pick a girl, as proprietary dictated, that pleased his eye the most and who had the widest net cast on the social front. He’d protect himself; he would avoid past mistakes with a new group. Fiyero concluded students had expectations of what he should be. He was going to give it to them, tenfold.

The details of his playbook were straightforward.

For schoolwork:

• Turn in only half the assignments per class.
• Flunk every test.
• Be tardy to class more often than being punctual.
• Sleep often.

For the social scene, the rules were a bit more complicated:

• Dress your best, always.
• Among the most beautiful, popular girls at school, discover who has the largest social clout and secure that girl.
• Compliment and flirt with everyone, including professors and staff.
• Limit buying drinks or paying for social outings.
• Be as kind as possible to all and dismiss them as needed.
• Have physical fun as needed.
• Take mental breaks as needed.
• Don’t get attached.
• Drink often.

The end goal summed up his efforts: Flunk to get kicked out.

Fiyero practiced perfecting his playbook in his second year as a freshman. He attended three schools that year and tightened his rules after each new arrival. As he was told he would wed Sarima upon graduation, the prince extended the inevitable. He had pretensions to keep up, despite enjoying both male and female alike. Fiyero would only secure a girlfriend, less he would embarrass his parents, his future wife, and the society he needed to adhere to.

In his second year, Fiyero more than accomplished what he set out to do.

-

That summer was not an easy one. Three different universities did not impress his parents. His drinking had become out of hand, and his behavior was not tolerable. His father learned that someone found his son unconscious, drunk, and naked in an inn bed, lying on top of another naked boy and girl. From two towns over, his father dragged Fiyero home and put him under house arrest.

Without his mother’s knowledge, his father sat him down and dictated details of Fiyero’s immediate wedding to Sarima. Horror waved over the son. Voices rose in volume and pitch, and a vase smashed against the castle wall. Their argument became so intense that half the staff heard them and were quick to avoid that wing of the castle. Gossip spread: the boy broke and ended up sobbing, begging, and pleading with the father to change his mind.

The father drafted new rules, and the son had to ink the formal agreement. The key highlights were:

• No more excessive drinking.
• Orgies forbidden.
• Whore houses are no longer allowed.
• Date only nice, proper girls (the son had to fight for this as it was originally no dating)
• After graduation, a summer wedding would award a tenth of the family fortune.

-

On his eighteenth birthday, his parents gave him a generous gift: a fixer-upper castle. Full ownership, deeds, and control of the staff at Kiamo Ko. Funded by his parents until he began to lead and earn a salary of his own. He appreciated their generosity, and they stated he would live there after graduation to raise his future family.

That summer, staff witnessed the father’s taming of the boy. Unaware of the argument and agreement, the mother loved when her son joined her most nights by the fireplace. He would shuffle and deal cards or engage his mother in other games. Most nights he was quiet, however, when he spoke he was quick with a self-deprecating joke. When it was time to attend a new university, his father pulled him aside and reminded his son of the written agreement and rules. Fiyero nodded, smiled, and left for the other side of Oz. Unbeknownst to his father, Fiyero worked on the wording to preserve his playbook.

Nowhere in the agreement was it written that he couldn’t flunk out. That he couldn’t drag his time. As a new year started, Fiyero perfected his playbook even more. He wrote to the school ahead of time, posing as his father, and asked for certain accommodations. Avoid eye contact upon his arrival. Please give his Horse a private stable. As available, offer private tutoring; should he fail, use discretion upon dismissal.

The letter’s conclusion, Fiyero felt, characterized him as unintelligent. This boy lacks knowledge; expect little. He perfected that persona in his second year, at the third school, and Fiyero doubled down upon entering year three. His father would own him on the dating, drinking, and marriage front, but he had overlooked his son’s resolve to prolong his scholastic tenure. Fiyero included a large amount of money in the letter which helped secure the requests.

-

Fiyero had a simple, adjusted goal when entering his third-year attempt as a freshman: Get kicked out of as many schools as possible. To achieve this, he heightened his antics, drawing in more students. You’re a bad influence, became a phrase he prided upon hearing. He also leaned into a new tagline to entertain his peers: brainless life, painless strife. After getting kicked out of three schools before the holiday and one university in the second semester, Fiyero congratulated himself on his record. He spent the rest of the year at home.

His mother felt embarrassed. His father exploded with anger. Fiyero accepted another summer of house arrest and played dumb with his parents. That summer, they gave him a home tutor, and an updated version of his usual tactics proved effective.

His father wondered if all the drinking had harmed brain-cells in his boy. His mother worried for him. She tried to involve him with activities around the castle and community, and he went only when it was obvious he should. His parents still had him with the marriage card and he wanted to extend his university stay as much as possible. It was another long summer.

Within two months of starting his fourth year at another school, they kicked the freshman out of the local academy. His father suspected the boy was doing it on purpose, so he pulled him aside, brought out the contract once more, and reviewed it with the boy. The elder failed to conclude if the son was faking. They enrolled Fiyero at Shiz University the next day, and he moved again. He beamed that this would be his tenth school, and, with much luck, they would kick him out before Yule Day.

-

Throughout this process, his teacher was at his side: Feldspur the Horse.

Mentor. Councilor. Friend.

Feldspur held a balanced line on what he told the parents and how he guided the prince. Since Fiyero’s early days as a boy, Feldspur was present as a part of all outdoor lessons. As the boy grew, the Horse became Fiyero’s confidant. When the drinking antics began, after the intense fight with his father, Feldspur learned what the boy had been carrying. Unable to change the boy’s birthright fate, Feldspur did his best to protect and support him as he could. He accomplished this through listening and offering advice. Despite all this, Feldspur could not change the boy’s mind on his playbook.

During the long summers, having Fiyero arrive in his nightclothes at Feldspur’s home near the castle stables was not unusual. The Horse provided a blanket and a supportive ear. It was that, or, he feared, the boy might do something drastic. For two decades, Feldspur treated the boy as his own. Fiyero sometimes arrived so upset that the words and tears poured out of him. Other times, the boy sat in silence. It was difficult for Fiyero being an only child and Winkie Prince.

It often bothered Feldspur to witness the games the boy felt he must play to prolong what little freedom he owned. Feldspur sometimes found the prince’s antics unbearable; the Horse would leave to prevent embarrassment from speaking his mind. Feldspur knew the boy was smart. Growing up, the homeschooled prince received more education than many of the incoming university freshmen. Yet, Fiyero put forth great effort to entertain his peers at his own expense, and he did this often, which caused Feldspur much irritation and stress.

-

Despite the walls he built and the playbook he adhered to, Fiyero Tigelaar never forgot that first university and what he overheard at the pub. He was shy that first year. He was an outsider. The only person at the school with an obvious accent and home-schooled upbringing. His naivete caused him to believe he’d done enough to be wanted. He was so stupid to think they liked his company.

He worked hard to be seen as dumb, incompetent, careless, and narcissistic. Fiyero fooled everyone, and he felt proud of his work. He was in the prime of perfection and admired by students. They wanted to be like him. They laughed and threw themselves at him, so they could say they were friends with the Winkie Prince. He spent more time on his dress and hair than he did on his studies. His brain planned social outings and failing tests. As a freshman repeating the same beginning classes each year, he knew the material and had fun writing the most bizarre answers.

He missed the freedom of hooking up with whoever he liked, but obeyed the contract. Deep down, and he only admitted it to Feldspur once, he feared another round with his father and being forced to wed. It was odd that the one focus shared with him since birth became the single thing that could control him. As a young boy, Feldspur recalled the prince would dream and share what he would do if he could be free from his birthright. It broke the Horse’s heart to know Fiyero’s dreams could never come true; he dared not say that out-loud. Abundant riches and prosperity also delivered thorns.

-

This defined the Winkie Prince.

Many loved him and many hated him, yet he didn’t mind at all.

Fiyero Tigelaar used to care about others’ opinions, but conflicts with his father and neglect from his first university peers eroded his self-care.

It was why, when he first met Galinda Upland, he sized her up and approved her as a perfect fit for his playbook mold.

That’s also why, when Elphaba Thropp confronted him, Fiyero's playbook fell apart, and he surrendered to love.

Chapter Text

“How do you feel now, Captain?” Laivario spat at the traitor, right in his bleeding face that made his men laugh. “It was such a pretty face; too bad we won’t be around to watch it eaten by vermin.”

“Or pecked by crows,” Shurita’s voice, from the sound of it which arose more laughter.

“He will rot and decay while we’re gone,” Johnsno, the second lieutenant, cracked.

He could no longer lift his head, hanging tarnished by his back, neck, and wrists. Every time they moved him, every addition of recent damage increased his pain. Even to talk caused shards to shoot through his head, so he hung there quiet and defeated. Laivario’s saliva stung the open wounds on his face and mixed with his draining blood.

“You fucking worthless traitor!” Laivario rushed the dying body with a growl, entertained when he saw it flinch and groan. “Rot, you scrum of Oz. You useless excuse of a man. May your soul never know a moment’s peace and may you burn in hell for your sins.”

“Do you want us to set him on fire, sir?” One of the younger guards asked, and the traitor recognized Darhin’s voice as a blood and water mix drained from a corner of his swollen eye.

Laivario shook his head when Johnsno offered to do the job. “Not at all. This traitor deserves a worse fate than death by fire. He loves the enemy of Oz and we heard Glinda the Good declare it so.” A laugh that was anything but jovial. “The traitor wouldn’t tell us what hole she hides in, but he revealed he fucked that witch’s hole.” He grabbed a hold of the traitor’s hair and yanked his chin up. “Didn’t you?” Laivario pumped the traitor’s head, making him nod. “Yes, you did.” The movement caused the traitor’s breathing to catch in his throat and squeaks of pain escaped. Laivario threw the head down and they all joined in the laughter.

What Laivario said was true. As they broke ribs, leg, and arm, and smashed his hands, the traitor remembered hours earlier when he and Elphaba embraced. When they reunited after years and expressed their love. Each strike and hit from his former troops sent him deeper into holding on to feeling her flesh against his. How she covered him when they joined. He wouldn’t answer when they demanded her location, but he smiled like the devil when they questioned what he did with her. That act of defiance cost him a dislocated jaw and more.

“That’s why we had to cleanse him.” The unmistakable disgust was thick in Laivario’s tone. “It’s no longer a man. We removed its breeding parts like the beast it is. Lover of beasts. Ha. Let it bleed out and bring to hell the memory of what happens to traitors who fuck wicked beasts. It’s lucky we weren’t back in the Emerald City where we could have peeled back its skin to torture out the information. Now we’re out of time and the open wounds will finish the job.”

Laivario spat again, a gleeful smile spreading across his face as the traitor stayed limp. “It will be dead within the hour.”

Turning, the new captain of the guards called his men to order. Laivario waved the soldiers forward, and a few threw rocks at the head of the traitor. The men laughed when a good throw hit the former pretty boy’s head hard enough to hear his skull crack.

They mounted their horses, snarled at the bloody corpse, and left. The night became an eerie quiet.

Incapable of concentration, to think, the dying body of Fiyero Tigelaar hung lifeless. Pain was all-encompassing in his last hour and turned to a dull cold. An odd contrast after feeling his legs moist with a warm liquid that could only be his draining blood. ‘No longer a man.’

His vision had deteriorated after they punched his face multiple times and then drove the old baluster into the ground. Fiyero... He kept repeating this in his head during their delivered torture. Elphaba. My name is Fiyero Tigelaar and I will die here protecting Elphaba. Elphaba Thropp, a saint for the Animals. I am Fiyero. My name is... I am... I am... I. Am.

The door was closing on his life and Fiyero could no longer feel pain. He no longer felt the rusty steel hook pounded near his spine. He couldn’t feel or move his fingers or his toes. His limbs were leaden, and his breath was inconsistent. I. Am. Dying. A single tear ran down his broken cheek, and he went to take his last breath. Mother. Father. Glinda. Doctor Dillamond. Feldspur. Elphaba. Please forgive me.

He surrendered as death came for him; unstable, Fiyero’s entire body burst into a new, terrible torture. He heard his own scream as his nerves ignited in pain and every vessel, muscle, and organ burned. Hell, a fleeting thought vanished, and then everything became bright. A new white-hot intensity engulfed him and his body jerked against the hook and ropes, his lungs gurgled, his fingers curled, and his skin a flame. After agonizing minutes, the assault on his body ceased, granting him an odd mercy, and Fiyero passed out.

----

“Papa?” A girl called, “Papa, look!”

“Well, will you look at that?” An older man’s voice; had to be Papa.

“Is it a gift?”

“No one lives for kilometers around. I can’t imagine who would leave such a gift.”

“Family?”

“Our relatives are all dead.”

“Someone left it. It wasn’t here days ago.”

“No, you’re right. That it wasn’t. Perhaps with the celebrations.”

“Perhaps. Can I name it?”

“Let’s have a look to see it before you name it. I doubt we should keep it."

“Please, Papa.”

“Come on, Abijal.”

Footsteps approached and some sort of inspection must have taken place. “I don’t know that I want to keep it.”

“Why not?”

“Looks like a bad omen. Do you see the stains?”

“Looks like blood,” the young girl thought. “I could wash that out. Mama has special cleansers we use for the pig slaughters.”

“True, your mother does.”

“If we can clean out the stains and if I stuff it better, can we keep it? Please?”

He gave in. “Alright. But only if those stains come out. I’m not having a bad omen scaring off the crows and the crops.”

A few chops, transport, then a proper laundry, and fixing back together. That evening, near dusk, they rehung it with one hook through the back sufficing. “Whoever hung it up there before this morning must have feared it would get away,” his laughter caused her to join in.

“You’re funny, Papa.” The young girl admired her work, for it looked so handsome now. She commented on how she re-stuffed it with straw, hayseed, wheat, and fresh hay. “And do you like the hat I gave him?”

“I noticed the hat.”

“I found it in your woodshed. He looks like a soldier and all soldiers wear hats.”

His daughter had found the familiar slouch beanie that had belonged to his grandfather. A smile spread across his face; glad she’d found a use for the old hat. “What are you going to call him?”

“I’ll think of a name tonight or tomorrow and we can visit on crop chore’s day to tell him.” The young girl, Abijal, sounded excited.

“That’s perfect,” the father’s jovial voice filled with laughter. “I’m sure he can’t wait to hear what you name him.” Packing up, they took off for home at the start of the setting sun.

Left alone, hanging sluggish on the nail and unable to move, he was slow in processing and thought; I have a name. My name is Fiyero. I died protecting Elphaba, saint for the Animals. Holding on to those three sentences, he repeated them to himself over and over. I have a name. My name is Fiyero. I died protecting Elphaba, saint for the Animals. I have a name. My name is Fiyero. I died protecting Elphaba, saint for the Animals. I have a name... Not understanding, exhausted, he passed out again and didn’t dream during his sleep.

For years, dreams eluded him.

Chapter Text

Whiteness was all that was visible.

Is this place hell? 

He cracked open only one of his eyes, and the painful brilliance caused it to close fast. Only, it wasn’t pain. There was instinct pain that should be there because of the bright intensity, but as he hung stationary in the air, he realized he didn’t register pain. He wasn’t hurt. Careful, slow, he opened both of his eyes. The brilliant white was a warning, but as his eyes adjusted, colorless turned to grey. Shapes were coming into view and hues were seeping in. Sepia. Gold. Winkie blues from the sky. His favorite color also appeared in focus. Green. 

What’s going on? Is this my personal version of hell? If it was, it was awful nice and calm, lacking both hellfire and the raining sizzling stones that he often heard Nessarose speak on.

I can move my fingers again. He noticed the slow, yellow-gloved fingers dangling at his sides as he waggled them. Fiyero tried making a fist but wasn’t very successful and he couldn’t snap his fingers either, but they moved. Although concentrating, his attempt to wiggle his toes revealed only his boots dangling at least half a meter above the ground. I can move my head, he realized. A swallow. He opened his mouth, and no longer felt his broken jaw jutting out. How is this possible? A fear washed over him, a powerful wave of emotion that perhaps wasn’t fear after all. Is it possible I thrived, arriving in heaven? This time, genuine fear entered him. What if he went to Heaven, and Elphaba’s judgment was hell? How could he live with himself, in the afterlife, without her? Nothing is making sense. 

Out of habit, he surprised himself by talking aloud, “Don’t be stupid. Neesa never described Heaven as a cornfield.” Eyes round, he recognized his own voice. There had been other voices, ones with accents to his ears. Their accent reminded him of Elphaba. By Vinkus, where is she right now? Is she safe? 

His head turned, and the memory formed. “I have a name. My name is Fiyero Tigelaar. I am in love with Elphaba Thropp, saint to the Animals.” There was no mistaking it. That was his Winkie voice. Confused, Fiyero went to lift his hands, his arms slow to respond. He made fists and moved at the elbows, hearing a soft rustling sound as he moved. Someone’s coming. Still and listening, his trained ear detected no other sound. If someone were approaching, that rustling sound, the sound stopped when he did. He rotated his hand; it reappeared. Very faint. He heard the rustling. The soft sound of... Why is there a lot of straw coming out of my wrist? With wide eyes, Fiyero gripped his right arm; he heard the crunch along with feeling the pressure. Saw with his eyes how his fingers crushed the shape of his forearm. He tightened his grip; a sickening sight, met with little resistance. “By Vinkus...” Careful, slow, he twisted his arm, waiting to see when it would hurt or stop, but it went in an unnatural curve around and he let go at the sight. 

His breath hitched, and fear hit his eyes, noticing straw or hay coming out of his jacket. He unbuttoned the top buttons and reached inside. “What...” Fiyero shoved his fingers in, took in a fast, non-existent breath, and became scared at what he felt before hearing the rustling and feeling the pressure as he went in further. A wave of nausea hit and he panicked, pulling his hand out to see small bits of straw dusting over his fingers. Where are my ribs? My chest? 

Eyes looking down at his limp body, then looking up to view the entire cornfield, Fiyero breathed faster. Short gasps as his mind worked to comprehend. He reached down and grabbed his thigh, giving a small cry when the same rustling of straw matched the feel of his fingers. He released his grip, a burning sensation in his leg, yet zero pain.    

Fearful, he didn’t want to check anymore, but his thoughts already latched onto one last idea. Fiyero had to know.

His gloved hands moved slow up to his face, and he closed his eyes, unable to touch. Again, his breath panicked and when he pressed into his face, he felt and heard a different rustling. Like rice or beans. Something small. “Oh... no...” His voice was hollow with this new discovery and he felt his nose and found he could push it in farther with no pain. His nose felt the pressure, and he registered his nose was being pushed, but nothing beyond it. Much like when he twisted his arm. He felt an ear and could bend it, push it in, and the mental visual was making him ill. “No...” he swallowed and forced himself to push against his forehead, his cheekbone, his jaw, and then his neck. It was the same. 

“Now, which way do we go?” 

An unknown voice reached Fiyero, causing him to freeze; it appeared the speaker conversed with either themselves or another. In shock, Fiyero dropped his arms and stared out straight ahead, holding his breath. While he waited for the female voice to show themselves, he continued to hold his breath. Then more. And more. Why am I not needing to breathe? Panic bubbled again, but it vanished when he saw a girl come into view. A little farm girl, holding a basket and there was a Dog with her. Fiyero, wanting to be rid of her, pointed to his left. “You could go this way.” He used an accent to cover his heritage, then shut up, looking straight ahead. 

Earlier, he heard another voice, Abijal, and Papa talk. Their accent was familiar to him because it was the same as Nessa, Boq, and Elphaba. In a soldier’s strategic decision, Fiyero used that accent now, less his own Winkie Country voice betray him. Besides, a few sentences to a wandering farm girl wouldn’t matter. 

The girl looked scared, her eyes round. “Who said that?”

A little greyish-black Dog at her feet sounded off, his voice accusing at the Winkie. Fiyero thought, Why doesn’t he just help her decide? Perhaps the dog mimicked Feldspur’s actions, staying mute around others. The girl was talking to the Animal now, as the Dog barked at him. “Don’t be silly, Toto. Scarecrows don’t talk.” 

Scarecrows?

What she said aligned with his earlier investigation, and he rejected those thoughts. He needed them gone so he could figure out what was happening to him. Quick, when she wasn’t looking, Fiyero switched arms to point the other way. He used the same accent as Boq. “It’s pleasant this way, too.” Void of thought and emotion, he froze again. She didn’t seem to like his original direction, and the Dog wasn’t helping, so Fiyero didn’t feel bad in trying to urge them away. 

“That’s funny.” She looked from Fiyero to the Dog and back to him. “Wasn’t he pointing the other way?” 

Why did she call me a scarecrow? Try as he did, the intrusive thoughts percolated. Despite not wanting to think about it, her words matched his findings. Instead of getting rid of her, maybe she can help, he chastised himself for not realizing that sooner. 

Not missing his chance, Fiyero gave up the game and looked right at her, swinging both arms to criss-cross and point in opposite directions. His arms rustled and bounced in almost a comical manner, and he forced himself not to focus on how unnatural that seemed. “Of course, people do go both ways.” He looked at her this time and blinked with a tight smile.

“Why, you did say something. Didn’t you?” Slow and careful, but curious, the farm girl approached him. Fiyero met her eyes and tried to make it seem like he was having fun. Like this was a game. In a way, it was. The game of strategy and survival. 

He shook his head, his smile grew, and then he nodded. 

“Are you doing that on purpose, or can’t you make up your mind?”

Years of practice flooded him and the simple default answer came off his lips. “I can’t make up my mind. I haven’t got a brain.” She confirmed what I am. Fiyero reached up to sell it. “Only straw.” He pulled out what seemed to be a strand of hair and realized it was a stalk of blond wheat. He shoved it back in, forcing his mind elsewhere. ‘Life is painless, for the brainless.’ Maybe I am in hell. 

The girl came over, and they introduced themselves, where Fiyero heard her call him scarecrow again, so he didn’t offer a name. He was stuck with the accent, but in hindsight, it was a smart move. He needed to blend in. For almost a decade, he had pretended to be stupid, making it easy to mislead Dorothy, the little brown-haired girl. He even got her sympathy for being strung up. 

He could not reach the nail in his back and had no upper arm strength to lift himself off, he explained. After multiple attempts by her, he gave her the idea to turn the nail hook and, without warning, he fell down. He was near weightless, and a cloud of straw dust puffed out of his chest and limbs upon impact with the ground. With useless legs, Fiyero tumbled, failing to catch himself. She shrieked, which caused another round of panic in him because she seemed to rush him. Dorothy was only trying to help. 

“Are you all right?” She was terrified and seeing her scared made him want to calm her. He forced his carefree smile and convinced her he was fine, like his every day was stumbling around after falling off a scarecrow pole. He grabbed at the hay and straw mix that had fallen, cracked a self-deprecating joke, and stuffed it into his jacket. Now that she helped me down, she can be on her way. 

What Fiyero did next changed the plan, despite his eagerness to get rid of her. “Where are you headed?” If Fiyero had not been so inquisitive, he would have dismissed Dorothy. Dorothy’s honest answer had him shocked. He listened, and he found himself all but begging her to take him with her. At first, she told him no, because she wanted to protect him as she had a wicked witch after her. Fiyero felt compelled to go with her even more after hearing that. Turning on the charm, he tried to make her feel sorry for him. “I’m not afraid of her,” one of the first true things he admitted. “I’m not afraid of anything,” not true, but even he realized how he sounded. Fiyero searched for an idea. “Except,” his eyes scanned their surroundings. Straw dust on the ground. “Except a lighted match.” He all but clasped his hands to appeal to her and the more crazy he made it sound, the more she believed him. At school, he used brainless to align everyone to want to be like him. As a guard, he used it to get the most information out of others. Here he used it to gain her sympathy, and it worked. She had a direct connection to the Wizard, to Glinda, and to Elphaba herself. Dorothy agreed to take him along. 

Helping him to his feet, Dorothy shrieked again when Fiyero took a few first steps and stumbled, toppling over on his face. The Dog barked and Dorothy yelped. Her cries matched his emotions. It started with the fact he couldn’t stand and ended with him seeing more of the straw-hay mix fall out of his chest and onto the ground in piles. How much of this stuff can I afford to lose? It was unnerving to see and trying to ease Dorothy, Fiyero joked about leaving bits of him all over, as if this was a regular occurrence. He felt ill picking it up and shoving it back inside his jacket, feeling once more his non-solid torso and the pressure of the mix re-entering his ‘body’. His survival training kicked in and he shoved those thoughts away for another time. 

Dorothy tried to be helpful by drawing him up to his feet and all he could think was, What if I can’t ever walk again? Looking at her and laughing it off was easy enough, as the girl had looked scared for him. With her help, he regained his balance, leaned on her, and tried to take a few steps. He cursed to himself when he went tumbling and outward to her, he made another joke. She was feeling so bad for him and Fiyero half-smiled at Dorothy, assuring her he would be alright. Her kindness was something he needed, even if he refused to think about why. Fiyero appreciated her want to help him and, with a need to buy time, he chatted about his clumsiness and lack of brains while she helped him re-learn to walk. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to put others at ease. Feldspur used to tell him that all the time and his heart ached remembering his friends. Fiyero shoved those thoughts away. Right now, he couldn’t mourn Nessa, couldn’t feel bad for Boq, couldn’t feel guilty over Glinda. He couldn’t let worry over Feldspur and Elphaba drive his thoughts crazy. 

Fiyero needed to survive this day and feel useful. Making this farm girl laugh was the medicine he didn’t know he needed. It didn’t hurt when he fell, so he became a little bolder in trying to see what he could and couldn’t do. He walked, fell, skipped, fell, danced, tripped, and fell. The dog, and by now Fiyero realized it was only a dog, had even gotten used to his inability to stay upright. Dorothy was getting used to him too and smiled and laughed with him as he worked it out and kept getting back up. The only one not used to his falling yet was Fiyero, but he played it off as if he were fine. Years of practice. 

When her sides ached from laughing and his ego bruised enough from failed attempts, Fiyero held out the crook of an arm to her good-natured. “To Oz?” He hadn’t a full plan yet, but this was a stumble in the right direction. As they headed ‘to Oz’, she taught him the song the Munchkins sang and together they skipped and sang down the yellow brick road. A few years ago, it didn’t exist, and he wouldn’t tell her about his strategic role in the yellow brick road’s construction. What it meant. How all roads ‘led to Oz’ and the Wizard. No, as he expected, she trusted and accepted him as long as he played the fool, sang, and entertained. She took hold of his jacket, more often than not, to keep him from falling and helped move him along. 

Dorothy turned out to be fine company, and she mentioned several times how grateful she was that he was with her. How lucky she was to have met him after leaving Munchkinland. Fiyero had to admit he had been lucky, too. The natural line of thinking was to make a plan. What would he do once he got to the Emerald City? There were one hundred internal questions ready to be unleashed, and they started with how he was alive and ended with how would he find Elphaba. Overwhelmed, it was easier to push everything away and Fiyero refused to think about any of it. Not yet. This was Day One for him. He needed to believe he was on the path to answers and plans; however, he ignored the situation for now. Living minute by minute was the only way he coped, and that had to be enough. With a warm heart, Dorothy extended her trust. In her innocence, Fiyero trusted her too, and he needed a friend. Even if that friend was as a twelve-year-old girl in pig-tails who was in way over her head.

In that regard, the pair were alike.

----

“I don’t get tired,” the lie came easy. “So don’t you worry. Go to sleep and I’ll keep watch.” Sitting up, leaning against a tree, Fiyero reassured Dorothy that he would keep her safe, with him on guard duty. He could keep watch and still be tired too, for Fiyero had five years of soldier training. She believed him, used his lower legs as a pillow, and curled up with Toto. Fiyero raised a brow as he felt her push around the straw to adjust for her comfort and guessed she didn’t even realize what she was doing. It wasn’t long before Dorothy was fast asleep and Toto seemed to watch him. Maybe he thinks I’m going to hurt her or something. He did not know what went on in the minds of little dogs from Kansas. 

With the moon at a good-sized sliver above them and Dorothy’s soft breath against his legs, Fiyero realized a new way in which he lied to the girl. He told her he could keep up. That he wouldn’t hold her back. She had on those fancy healed silver shoes, Nessa’s shoes, to slow her down because Fiyero couldn’t go that fast for that long. He was beyond tired and whatever had him living was not without a lot of energy spent in moving dead grass. Is straw considered dead grass? No, he remembered it was more stalks of grains, but it didn’t matter. Wasn’t hay grass?

He fought against thoughts of what would have happened to him if Dorothy hadn’t crossed his path today, but thinking about what would have happened to her was fair game. She was twelve years old and solo on the yellow brick road in the Eastern part of Oz. What could have happened to her if others found her? What in the hell was Glinda thinking of sending her out on her own? He grimaced and grit his teeth, guilt seeping in.

Fiyero couldn’t afford to think about Glinda and continued to push thoughts of his friends away. He needed a soldier’s clarity and found his mind drifting. Not meaning to, Fiyero remembered Elphaba and their one night together. It was such a nice memory and feeling once they connected, kissed, and touched. He could still feel her... Stop it! His internal curse forced it away and Fiyero blocked that thought from re-entering. She’s twelve, Fiyero grounded himself. Sleeping on your legs. Get it together. Your new job is to guard and protect Dorothy, Fiyero declared. Whatever else needed to happen would reveal itself when he was ready.

He knew he needed to sleep, tired as he was, yet one more thought nagged at him and it wouldn’t go away. Something he wanted to do earlier today, Fiyero decided he could do now with Dorothy asleep. Nervous, careful over his lap, he untucked his right glove from its sleeve, pulled it back, and swallowed when it revealed what he expected. Straw. Lots of straw. Let’s pray this works, he thought to himself and continued to pull more of the glove off. He felt sick. Instead of seeing his arm, he saw short straw pieces fall away from the longer ones onto his lap. He tested it and the glove allowed him to flex his fingers, but only a little. By Vinkus, he thought, Do it. With a fast tug, he pulled the glove off. 

Fiyero almost gagged, seeing his right glove drop lifeless where he held it and his right arm was now minus a hand. Straw ends protruded from his wrist as if someone had amputated his hand, and straw dust, small pieces of flat wood, and stalks covered his lap. The move caused his glove to empty. He stared at his arm and his body shivered at the sight. ‘Smash his hand!’ A voice echoed in his mind and Fiyero shut his eyes, blocked that memory, and felt his breath hitch. I don’t even have lungs... Why am I hyperventilating? He rested both gloves and his arm in his lap and repeated in his head his new mantra. What he repeated when they tortured him and what he repeated when he first became aware again. My name is Fiyero Tigelaar. I love Elphaba Thropp, saint to the Animals. My name is Fiyero. I love Elphaba. Saint to the Animals. The Animals. To the Animals.

Something poked into his left glove, the hand that was still working, and Fiyero snapped open his eyes. He was ready to fight or flee or... his sight adjusted. Toto had come over, whimpering in low tones because he sensed Fiyero’s distress. With a small smile, humbled by the animal, Fiyero let go of his useless right glove and reached over to pet the dog. Toto nuzzled and calmed him, and Fiyero nodded, keeping his volume low, “Thank you.” His gaze went to Dorothy, and he had to get it together. He had to stop thinking. Stop wondering how he worked and just accept that he did. Another stroke of the dog’s head, “It’s been a hell of a day.” 

With a swallow, and a large intake of breath, Fiyero smiled half-sad at the dog and the dog pawed Fiyero’s torso. Toto had seen Dorothy upset enough times to understand when to comfort her, and he was doing his best with their new friend. He stroked the dog’s head, trying to blank his mind and numb his body. Fiyero gave a long exhale, “I guess I better put myself back together.”

Please let this work. He was going to be so mad at himself if he gave up an efficient working hand. With his right arm bent at the elbow, Fiyero gathered pieces of straw and wood, packing them into his green right-handed glove until it was full. He tried several times to wiggle his fingers, but it didn’t work. Shit. The rest of the straw he gathered and stuffed into the open sleeve of his jacket. My new skin. He gagged at that thought, too. 

Distressed, he brought up the lifeless glove and tried to figure out how to best place it on his wrist without either of them losing the straw. He hovered around with different angles and stopped, picking up fallen pieces and putting them back in. After a few minutes of this, he cursed to himself, Just do it already! Almost grimacing, Fiyero shoved the glove in towards the sleeve and felt a slight sensation. Eager, he began tucking in all sides of the glove edge and while he lost some straw, he found he could move his fingers again. “Thank the Unnamed God,” he felt so relieved he used his own voice, staring at the minor miracle before him. 

Eyes wide, he realized he spoke aloud and didn’t remember the fake accent. Fiyero looked over at Dorothy and saw she was still fast asleep. Good. His eyes moved to the dog and Toto was watching him. He gave a half-smile, caught in the act, and also a shrug. Did the dog even understand? He hoped not. Using both hands, Fiyero picked up Toto and set him in his lap, petting the animal. Trying to comfort them both while he marveled that his right hand was doing the work of delivering affection across the dog’s back. After another look at Dorothy, he closed his eyes and kept an ear open to the wind.

Just in case.

Chapter Text

22 YEARS AGO:

“When I grow older, I’m going to get married.”

He felt the youth engaging in a favorite activity while Feldspur was laying down, climbing up the Horse's legs and then back. Sometimes the tight grabs and little fingers hurt, especially when the child used the mane to pull himself up, but it was a pain Feldspur had gotten used to. “Are you now?”

“Yeah!” Fiyero was only five years old, already a handful of a youth. “And everybody is going to be there.”

Feldspur grimaced as the boy engaged in the neck climb, using his hair and muscles as a ladder. “Use the bridle,” Feldspur tried to help and switch the boy’s grip to stop the yanking. The bridle was plain leather and bitless, per Feldspur’s preference. It was easier to talk and instruct the boy when they were in lessons and the multiple straps aided the youth as he rode or climbed.

Inch by inch, he heard the boy grunt as he struggled to get higher. With one shake of his neck, he could send the little human tumbling into the grass, however the Horse stayed still. Endured the pain because the young prince was doing what little boys should do. Have fun and explore.

With a tug, and another grunt, Fiyero swung up his legs and Feldspur shut his eyes, less he became kicked by leather shoes. Having slipped, the boy somehow anchored his feet around Feldspur’s muzzle and bridle, so the Horse lifted his chin, trying to keep Fiyero from sliding off onto his head. Upside down, arms dangling, a round of laughter escaped from the boy’s belly. “Young prince,” Feldspur’s throat let forth a hearty laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I’m climbing,” the boy swung back and forth, his ankles locked so he didn’t fall. The gleeful child knew he wasn’t climbing at this moment. In fact, the boy couldn’t even see because his shirt fell over his face, exposing his ribs.

Feldspur let out another chuckle because Fiyero was hanging there, not even trying to get back up. “Can you reach up to grab the bridle or go for my nose?” He helped guide the boy.

He tightened his grip with his feet around the Horse’s muzzle. Shoes stuck in the straps, Fiyero tried to bend upward to reach and fell back, laughing. “I can’t do it.”

“You need to try.”

After a few paltry attempts, Fiyero let go, causing more laughter to erupt in his belly. “I can’t!”

“Fine, young prince,” Feldspur lowered his head so Fiyero could touch the ground and dismount as safe as possible. Once his feet touched down, Fiyero grabbed Feldspur’s muzzle with his arms and jumped up, wrapping his feet and ankles around the neck of the Horse. The youth grabbed tight onto the bridle straps, and Feldspur sputtered in surprise, “Young prince!”

Squeals of laughter filled the meadow and Fiyero called out in triumph, “I got you! I got you!” The Horse lifted his neck, and the boy tightened all muscles to keep his purchase. “I still got you!”

“Do you?” Feldspur pushed off the ground from his hooves and neighed in delight at the ridiculous boy.

“Yeah, I do!” Fiyero felt his leather shoes slipping, so he climbed towards Feldspur’s eyes with his hands and wrapped his knees around the neck, relocking at the neck bones with his ankles. “Ha!” He gave the taunt.

Feldspur moved his chin to the right in a large, swinging arc. He felt the boy’s grip adjust, but maintained. The Horse swung his neck wide to his left and Feldspur heard Fiyero gasp, but then giggled. “Are you hanging on?”

“Yep!” The overconfidence was strong.

“Shift your weight closer to my neck and from there you need to hang on tight.” He felt the youth change his grip. “Do you have it?”

“I’ve got it.”

“Hang on,” Feldspur trotted at a slow pace forward, hearing the delightful squeal coming from the boy. The boy started shouting for him to go faster and faster, and while Feldspur wouldn’t put the prince in danger, he sped up into a medium gait trot. Fiyero was a strong but light, thin, and gangly boy.

Hanging on for dear life, Fiyero’s floppy brown hair covered his eyes and he only caught glimpses of the bouncing landscape. That didn’t matter, for the wind was eager to caress his face, arms, and legs. “Faster!” Fiyero wanted adventure and, against his better judgment, Feldspur picked his hooves.

“Hold on as tight as you can.” Feldspur instructed and he felt Fiyero’s entire body all but merging with his neck and muzzle, “Don’t let go!” He gave a full-on trot and when the boy screamed in delight, he headed towards the north-end dead tree. No longer able to shout or talk, for all his concentration was on keeping his hold, Fiyero shut his eyes and felt the hot breath of the Horse. When Feldspur shouted to be ready, Fiyero waited for it.

Feldspur launched himself and the boy into the air and, for a moment, Fiyero’s tight grip loosened as he felt weightless. With the dead log under them, through his long, messy hair, Fiyero saw the north-end tree, and his little heart soared. Having jumped over trees enough with Feldspur to understand the impact landing, Fiyero drew his body around the Horse’s muzzle and neck as tight as he could. Feldspur landed softly and even. The Horse finished the landing run and slowed until he stopped and the two males’ bodies erupted in happiness and excitement.

Fiyero hugged the stuffing out of the Horse, as he hung belly-up, still ankle hooked around the Horse’s neck and hands gripping the leather bridle so tight, his knuckles paled. “That was so fun!” He refused to let go. “Again, Feldspur! Again!”

His laughter turned into a chortle. “No, young prince. That was one time only.”

“Please?” Fiyero wouldn’t give up so soon.

“No.” He was happy, but held firm to the decision. “I will not put us in a position where I need to explain to your father how his son’s head split open.”

That statement sent Fiyero into a fit of joy and he patted the Horse. “When I get older, I’m going to marry you, Feldspur!” The boy expressed his love for his teacher and friend.

With a shake of his muzzle, careful not to dismount the boy, “That’s not how it works, young prince.” He turned and trotted back at a slow pace to where their lunch blankets and tools waited for them.

“Why not?” Fiyero was curious and patted Feldspur again.

“You know already.”

Fiyero played dumb, as small children like himself tended to do, “No, I don’t.”

Feldspur shook his head to himself. “You do.” When they were over the blanket, Feldspur shook his head to be rid of the princely leech, but Fiyero’s grip was still too tight.

“Ha, ha. You can’t get rid of me,” the boy taunted.

“My neck and face are becoming sore. It’s time to get down.”

Not wanting to hurt Feldspur, Fiyero nodded and let his hands drop towards the ground. “Okay.” When he had his palms on the blanket, he let go at the ankles and let himself roll forward. He loved tumbling around and climbing. The Horse lay down so he could be at the boy’s height and sure enough, Fiyero came flying in to give his neck a full-on hug. “Why can’t I marry you when I grow up?” He wouldn’t let it go.

“I told you: you know why.” The boy shook his head and Feldspur recognized this was more about receiving attention than anything else. “Your parents already have picked out a wife for you. From a family with good breeding stock and wealth.”

“But,” Fiyero tried.

Feldspur addressed him, “I am a Horse. You are a human, and you know, interspecies marriage is forbidden.”

“Why?”

“Because history and science have proven it is impossible to work, and it goes against the moral laws.”

“Why?”

“Fiyero…” Feldspur warned.

“Why is it wrong by law?”

That the young prince was arguing this was a bit concerning, so Feldspur kept it light. “Do you want to marry a Cat? Or a Dog?”

The question sent the prince into another joyous fit as he howled ‘no’ and Feldspur was glad to see that the issue wasn’t interspecies at all. “You’re a silly boy,” Feldspur turned his head and ruffled up the boy’s hair with his mouth. More giggles, and Fiyero climbed to sit on Feldspur’s back.

The boy grew quiet and the sounds of the birds and occasional bugs filled their ears. “Feldspur?”

“Yes?”

“What if I don’t like her?”

“If your parents picked her out for you, I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful wife.” The answer wasn’t an actual answer, and Feldspur knew this. While he himself was a young Horse, he was older than Fiyero and he could pick his career and profession. He loved his job and only at certain times did it feel like work. He heard the young boy take in a large breath and then sigh, flopping forward onto Feldspur’s neck. His arms dangling down.

“Okay,” the boy accepted the answer, and he sounded defeated. To that, there was little Feldspur could do.

The Horse made a mental note to talk to Marillot tonight. Feldspur knew it was time to introduce the young prince to other Vinkus children his own age. Even if the Tigelaars wanted little outside influences to interrupt the boy’s education, there was something to be said for only having a Horse as a friend.

“It’s time to clean up and get ready for your afternoon studies,” Feldspur had been watching the sun and noted the time.

Fiyero had been ignoring the sun for the same reason. “Do I have to?”

The boy knew he did, and Feldspur did not feel bad about that. “Yes. You have to.”

“Five more minutes?” His arms held tight in hugging the Horse’s neck and Fiyero nuzzled his face against the short hair.

“Fine,” Feldspur nodded, his neck muscles moving against the boy’s face. “Five more minutes.”

The boy sighed and hugged Feldspur tighter, happy and content. “I love you, Feldspur.” A soft neigh was the only acceptable sentiment returned.

——

PRESENT TIME

When the sun rose the next morning, the birds came to life and their sounds brought him out of his sleep. In the middle of the night, Toto had crawled out of his lap and snuggled back up to Dorothy. They were both asleep and Fiyero marveled at how the dog and the girl seemed close without ever having been able to talk with each other. They were what Oz was becoming.

Thinking on Feldspur, he had dreamed about his friend last night, that Feldspur took him away from the madness of Oz. When he woke, he watched Dorothy with Toto, and Fiyero missed his friend. He had been awake for an hour indulging in one of his earliest memories with the Horse. School outdoors and the playtime during lunch, Feldspur often extended the recess activities he knew Fiyero liked. I remember that time he let me hang off him. I was so young. It was a wonderful time and Fiyero decided certain memories during downtimes were okay.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop them all. In the past five years, Feldspur talked less and less, keeping his low profile. Days before Fiyero volunteered to become a wizard guard, Feldspur also told Fiyero to call him his horse. Fiyero hated that and remembered their short-lived argument that he lost.

~~~~

“I won’t do it,” Fiyero shook his head as he brushed down Feldspur.

“This isn’t me asking,” Feldspur turned to look back at the boy. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Of course, I have a choice,” his resolve was sound. “I will not insult you or degrade you like that on purpose.”

The Horse knew better, “Fiyero. Tell me again what Glinda told you.”

“She tells me lots of things.”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Feldspur corrected. “What did she say?”

Fiyero frowned because he was evading the topic on purpose. “Glinda said that the Wizard and Morrible created animal spies...” He’s going to make me call him a horse.

“You understand what that means? If I’m seen and heard talking to you. Or, worse, if I’m not there and you’re having even a casual chat. If you’re overheard talking about me as a Horse...” Feldspur shook his mane and his ears flattened. “I’m done for, Fiyero.”

“It’s disrespectful.”

“What about losing your mind and the ability to speak?” He turned in full now, no longer allowing the boy to groom him. “This isn’t a game and you cannot laugh or dance it away, young prince.” He saw Fiyero look down and then nod. “You know how much pride I have in my role. My employment as your mentor. You know how much I look forward to our conversations, on philosophy, art, and even topics that could be mundane like your school day.” Beyond a doubt, Feldspur knew what he was asking and what he was giving up. “Nothing brings me more joy than our chats. You need to know this. I have loved watching you grow and seeing the man you’ve become.”

Fiyero felt his throat tighten at the compliment. It was the first time he ever heard Feldspur refer to him as a man. “Young prince,” Feldspur kept his voice soft and kind, “I’ve taken care of you all my life. Now I need you to take care of me.”

His lips twitched and Fiyero set down the brush, stepped in, and hugged his friend around the neck.

The older Horse closed his eyes at the embrace. “It’ll be alright.”

“I don’t want to do it,” Fiyero managed between heavy breaths.

“I know.” Unsure how long he would retain the ability to speak, even with a facade, Feldspur needed to share, “And I love you all the more for that.” He felt Fiyero bury his face in his neck and the surrounding grip became tighter. “There, there,” he tried to ease Fiyero’s heart and mind. “It’ll be alright,” he repeated. “I promise.”

~~~~

‘I promise.’

They had looked for Elphaba multiple times, and failed. Returning to Shiz in desperate hope for a sighting or news, one of their last long conversations was agreeing to volunteer as the Wizard’s guards. Hunters of the Wicked Witch. They had gone to the lake in the middle of the night to talk in private and keep their safety, and it was not a simple conversation. Feldspur challenged Fiyero’s decision and threw many questions at him. Trying to punch holes and look for weaknesses in the young man’s plan. Because he loved the prince so, Feldspur agreed, and together they completed the plan. They would introduce Fiyero as a volunteer and an additional guard who would donate his horse to the cause for himself to ride. Fiyero had to sell the horse part and could never treat him otherwise. To do so would put them both in danger and if they found out...

Fiyero’s mind blanked. A part of him was still with Feldspur and as he watched Toto turn and Dorothy’s arm wrap around the dog in her sleep, Fiyero understood. There was still love between them. Fiyero had felt that love tenfold from his friend, a Horse. There was a way to know the other so well that no matter what people said or did, your inner core could love. Stay loyal.

He glanced down at his lap and saw small bits of straw that remained from last night’s science experiment. Unsure if he was tired or just getting used to it, Fiyero brushed it off without inspection.

Feldspur. The Horse was unaware of what had become of Fiyero, and he worried that someone had found Feldspur and placed him back in the Wizard’s guard. Feldspur, any apology was useless, and he looked down at the straw coming out from where Dorothy all but clutched his ankles. I have to stop doing this. Fiyero swallowed and went numb. He stared at the little dog and tried to fall back asleep.

——

Fiyero didn’t know how much time passed, but he awoke to Toto licking his face. A bit confused, he hadn’t ever had a Dog lick his face before, much less a dog. “Good Morning,” he lifted both hands to pull the dog away and repositioned Toto on his lap. Petting.

Dorothy stirred in her sleep and then stretched. “Oh, is it morning already?” She covered her mouth with a yawn.

“Good Morning,” Fiyero nodded his head, letting go of Toto, whose tail wagged fast hearing her voice. He was straining against Fiyero’s hand in trying to get to her. “How did you sleep?”

“Good morning,” she pushed herself up from the face bath Toto was giving her, too. “I slept okay. I kept getting stung sometimes when I turned over.”

He was confused, “Stung? By bugs?”

“Oh, no. By straw…” She realized what she was implying and Dorothy’s eyes went wide. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“It poked you near the boots, huh?”

Her face red, she sat up and looked at the scarecrow. “I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

Fiyero corrected in his kind way, “You’re not being rude.” To make her feel better, he tried, “Straw pokes me all the time.”

Dorothy was relieved hearing that. “You sure have a funny way about you.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. It’s nice.” She covered a yawn again. “I am out of crackers and I’m a little hungry.” She looked around and then looked at him. “You never get hungry, do you?” The scarecrow shook his head. “Must be nice to not have to eat.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“How do you get your energy?”

Pretending to think, Fiyero shrugged with his hands and shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Once you get your brain from the Wizard, I wonder if you’ll figure that out.” She stood up, Toto bouncing around her silver shoes. She patted down her dress and picked up her basket before reaching over to help the Scarecrow up.

Taking her hand, Fiyero thought out-loud, “I bet I’ll learn lots of things once we meet the Wizard.”

“And I can finally go home.” They both shared a smile and then set out again down the yellow brick road. Fiyero looked behind them every once in a while, as Ozian-trained Guards and Winkie Scouts were prone to do.

“Do you see something?” Dorothy caught him doing it more than once.

“No.” He looked like he was trying to think. “Do you?”

“No, but I’m not the one looking behind me all the time.”

“I thought I heard a crow cawing,” he was quick to cover up.

“I didn’t hear anything, but I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Thank you, Dorothy.”

“You’re welcome, Scarecrow.” As they walked, she realized, “Say, were you ever given a name?”

He shook his head. “I think the girl that made me was supposed to give me a name, but I never heard it.”

“Do you want a name?”

He looked to be deep in thought. “You’ve been calling me Scarecrow all day yesterday and today. It might be odd if you called me by a different name.”

“Should I have given you a better name?” She looked worried that maybe she should have.

“I think Scarecrow is just fine,” Fiyero beamed. “That’s the name you gave me and I think it fits me, don’t you?” To entertain her and lift her worry, he did a quick dance, a small spin, and, of course, lost half his footing.

Coming to his aid, used to his antics now, Dorothy laughed and caught an arm, pulling him back to balance on his feet. “It certainly does.” He was very amusing to her, and she enjoyed his company.

“Instead of looking for crows, we should look to find you something to eat. And drink.” She was only twelve and Fiyero couldn’t imagine what might happen to her if she hit the point of feeling starved. He remembered growing up and being unable to catch game sometimes during morning hunts. If you didn’t catch any game you went without, and by the time he went to dinner, he was famished. His mother called him unbearable.

“What do you think we could find?”

Never having been in the eastern part of Oz before, except for two universities where they fed him from the dining hall, Fiyero did not know. “Maybe a carrot?” He tried to pick something obscure and saw her make a face. “Or fruit?” Dorothy looked like she was envisioning eating fruit because a satisfied look crossed her features. “Do you have a favorite fruit?”

“Strawberries,” Dorothy looked at him. “Do you know what that is?”

“Is that the long, yellow fruit?” Fiyero kept a straight face.

“That’s a banana. Boy, you really don’t have a brain.” Fiyero withheld his laughter at her honesty. “A strawberry is like a small heart shape, red, and very sweet.”

“That sounds nice.” He pretended to look up in the trees. “Do you find them up there?”

Dorothy could not believe he thought strawberries grew on trees and she shook her head at him in a way that signaled she was not being mean but entertained. She found him funny, and he enjoyed these interactions. “Strawberries don’t grow on trees. You’re a silly scarecrow.”

“Where do they grow?”

“From plants that grow on the ground.”

“Oh!” He made a large gesture of looking at the foliage on the ground. “And they are blue?”

“Red,” she was respectful in her tone, correcting him.

“Red,” he repeated. “That’s not one, is it?” Fiyero stopped and couldn’t help himself. He pointed at a lone flower. A flower that meant a lot to him.

“That’s a poppy flower. We have purple poppies where I’m from, in Kansas.”

“Do you like them?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“I think they’re my favorite flower.” He bent over and picked it up, handing it to Dorothy. “For you, kind lady.”

She curtsied. “Why thank you, sir.” Dorothy took the flower and laid it in her basket, with the pretty orangish-red head sticking out.

“I wonder how long it will take us to get to the Emerald City from here.”

“I don’t know. The Munchkins thought it might take a week or more on foot. I bet Glinda the Good made it back the same day.”

“In her bubble, she probably did,” he smirked, as he had seen that show. A lot.

“How did you know she travels by bubble?”

Fiyero blinked and looked confused at Dorothy, trying to think of a cover. “Didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, I may have. I don’t remember.”

“Neither do I,” he pretended to be silly again, to cover up that mistake, and changed the subject. “A week on foot.” Fiyero feared it might take them longer, with her in Nessa’s fancy shoes and his instability. “We need to find you some food.” His concern for her was real. He walked off-path of the yellow brick, almost catching a boot and tripping when he stepped onto the grass.

“I think your walking is getting better,” Dorothy tried to compliment him.

“Thank you.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Anything you can eat.”

“Do you know the things I can eat?”

“I think so. Strawberries.” He beamed. “Bananas.” Had they been in Winkie Country, he could have directed her to the blackberry fields or pointed out the hunting game. He could even have brought her to his parents’ house or Kiamo Ko for food. Wouldn’t that have been a sight? Showing up on his parents’ doorstep with Dorothy in tow. Granted, they wouldn’t recognize him, especially with the accent.

Fiyero stood there, thinking of his parents. They probably think I’m dead. By Vinkus, I wonder if they were told I was killed as a traitor. His expression fell, and so did his spirits.

“Scarecrow?” Dorothy came over and took his hand in her gentle manner. “Are you alright?”

In a blink, he hadn’t realized he had been standing there a while and looked down at her and gave a bright smile. “I’m fine,” he squeezed her hand out of the habit of having Glinda take hold of him. With a glance at their hands, he realized how kind and innocent of a gesture that was. He patted their joined hands with his free one before releasing her. “I’m troubled, is all. I want to find you something to eat.” With a shrug, he blanked his mind and stepped forward. “If only we could find something.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Why?” Fiyero turned and looked at her. Again, surprised.

“I don’t want to be any trouble. More than I already have been.”

He frowned. “You haven’t been any trouble. Why would you say that?”

“I just don’t want to get in the way.”

Fiyero had to turn from her, his expression uncertain. He could only guess why she thought that. “You’re not in the way. If anything, I’m taking us off the yellow brick road.” He offered her the crook of his arm. “Let’s keep going. To Oz?”

Her face light up in a natural, bright way and nodded, taking his arm. “To Oz.”

Chapter Text

They got lucky on their second full day. Dorothy and the Scarecrow found a long farmer’s market alongside the yellow brick road and, while they didn’t have any money, they went from booth to booth, asking if they could help. Scarecrow earned Dorothy a loaf of bread by singing, tripping, and dancing. He attracted a lot of attention, as no one had seen a talking scarecrow before. The booth owners were so happy with how he increased their business that they gave them a bonus of a small pint of milk. Dorothy received water, and after sharing her story, people gave her cheese and grapes. As the farmer’s market was ending, Fiyero spotted something and lept for joy.

“Dorothy!” She had gone to another table to look at the pickled vegetables. “Dorothy! Come quick!”

“Scarecrow, are you alright?” She thanked the booth owner for showing her their crops and quickly darted toward where Scarecrow’s voice was.

“There you are!” He took hold of her hand. “They’re about to pack up. Come quick!” Forgetting himself in his excitement, Fiyero fell down on both knees, having moved too fast. Dorothy gave a small shriek and then laughed, watching him scramble upright. “Hurry,” he felt her hand lift him under his arm as he got to his boots.

As she tried to hold him up because he was moving so fast, Dorothy almost tripped over Toto, who wasn’t sure to bark or back away at the commotion. “What has you up in arms?”

Fiyero went skidding to a halt before the booth and the momentum almost sent him over the edge of the table. Fiyero caught himself and looked right at the owners with a wide grin. “Do you still have them?”

As she looked at the empty table, Dorothy was confused about what the Scarecrow had gotten so animated about. “Have what?”

He was so happy when the farmer brought around the box, Fiyero pointed and beamed, “Little red hearts.”

Dorothy’s eyes went wide, and she understood his excitement. “Oh, Scarecrow! Strawberries!” She jumped up and down two times. “You found strawberries for me.”

Unsure, Fiyero turned to the owner, “What do I need to do to pay for them?” They were closing their booth and customers were leaving, not coming. “Can we trade you some bread?”

The older man looked at them both and then at the bread and other items in Dorothy’s basket. “We don’t have use for bread,” the farmer raised a brow. “A cheese trade is possible.”

The cheese looked ripe and good to Fiyero. He frowned, not wanting to trade Dorothy’s cheese. “Are you sure you won’t take some bread? This is the only food we have until we find another market tomorrow where I can sing and dance to get more.”

The farmer raised a brow at the unusual talking scarecrow. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, please,” Dorothy tried to help. “Strawberries are my favorite and I’m sorry we didn’t come by sooner, so Scarecrow and I could help you somehow.”

The farmer didn’t look convinced.

Puzzled, Fiyero tried, “Are there any chores you need help with tonight? We have a long way to travel to Emerald City, and I need to make sure Dorothy gets enough to eat before she meets the Wizard.”

“The Wizard?”

“Oh, yes,” Fiyero nodded. “Dorothy needs help to go home.”

“That's right, and Scarecrow needs a brain,” Dorothy tried to be helpful.

“Well, I have a cornfield with crows in it that could use a good scare…”

Eyes going wide, Fiyero did not want to go back into a cornfield. “Do you mean… on a pole?” 

“Hang on a pole. Walk around and shoo them away. Your choice.”

Fiyero looked at Dorothy and then looked at the farmer. “Does your cornfield have a barn?”

“Yep.”

“Does the barn have a hayloft?”

“Sure does.”

“Can Dorothy spend the night in the loft and I’ll stand guard?”

The farmer was regaled. “I don’t see why not.”

Fiyero took the farmer’s hand and shook it appreciatively. “Oh, thank you!” He perfected this new game of playing the fool. His earliest version was the scholastically disinterested student. He graduated to the guard, who was determined but not the brightest. Now he was an energetic, brainless scarecrow. The only one who could appreciate all three acts was Feldspur, if Feldspur could only see him now. He’d hate what I’m doing, I bet. Fiyero realigned his thoughts back to the farmer. “I’ll scare any crows you have tonight.”

“Just scare them until sundown. Then again at sunrise, and we’ll call it even.” The farmer set down the box of strawberries.

“Are those all for me?” Dorothy’s eyes went wide.

“Yep,” the farmer grinned. “They will spoil by the time we come back to sell them, so I was half inclined to just give them to you. But your friend here is going to scare some crows and that should be a sight.”

Fiyero realized he had been had, but turned and saw how happy Dorothy was. Plus, we now have a warmer place for Dorothy to sleep tonight. “Luck!”

They helped the farmer and his wife pack up the last of their booth and boxes. After settling Dorothy and the Scarecrow in the back of the wagon, they hitched up the donkey and headed to their farm. Dorothy was excited and began eating the strawberries and gave some cheese to Toto. Fiyero chatted with her and kept his eye on the path they used, mindful of which way they were going, so he didn’t get lost. He was a born tracker in Winkie Country and a trained guard at Emerald City. His instincts were alert for anything unusual and the ride to their farm turned out uneventful and harmless.

As promised, Fiyero went into their cornfield and ran around, hollering at the crows. Toto ran with him often and Fiyero fell down more times than he was upright. The farmer and his wife pulled out some chairs for themselves and Dorothy and together they watched Fiyero entertain them. He did this for over an hour and finally, when no crows felt safe to come to perch, the farmer waved the energetic Scarecrow back.

With dirt dust all over him, Fiyero was praised for not only a job well done but for making them laugh so much. “You were fun to watch, Scarecrow.” The farmer chuckled. “Why don’t we hose you down and get that dirt off you? Metuias will head inside and start making dinner. You both are welcome to join us.”

Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow looked at each other with big smiles. “That would be so very nice. Thank you.” Fiyero shook the man’s hand again.

Metuias stood and stretched, complimenting the living scarecrow before offering, “I was going to make beef pot roast stew. Would that work for you both?”

“Oh, Scarecrow doesn’t eat, but that sounds like a wonderful supper to me.”

Fiyero nodded in agreement.

“So I should only do place settings for three?”

Dorothy looked at the Scarecrow and he looked at them all. “If you don’t mind, Mam. I can sit with you all. I just won’t eat.” Fiyero would not let Dorothy out of his sight.

Unsure if that meant a table setting or not, Metuias just nodded. “I better get to the stove then.”

“I’ll rinse you off,” the farmer shook his head. “You’re wearing half the field on you, son.”

---

Fiyero got a good spray all over with the water hose, turning around several times. Hands in the air, his hat flew off two times before Dorothy held onto it for him. A few pieces of his blond wheat hair hit the ground, but that was all he lost. His left gloved hand was sprayed off his body only once and, thinking nothing of it, Dorothy gathered that for the Scarecrow too. As he stood there in the late afternoon sun, he prayed that his straw didn’t become soaked and wilt to a point where he couldn’t stand or move. The farmer seemed to have dealt with straw and hay before and kept the spray light and even all around. His focus was really on the scarecrow’s clothes, and he was careful not to over water. He didn’t want the strawman to grow mold.

After his shower, Fiyero stood in the sun, squeezing out any excess water in his clothes. The sun was strong, and he was mostly damp and now clean. He thanked Dorothy when she brought him his hand and the farmer marveled at how quickly it could be reattached. Fiyero flexed his fingers and was glad too.

“We better let your hat dry out by itself.” Dorothy placed it on the table. “That way your hair can dry nice and proper.” Dorothy was always very thoughtful and Fiyero really liked the girl. There was a naïve kindness in her he recognized in his former twelve-year-old self.

He couldn’t sit on the ground while he dried, lest he pick up more dirt, but the farmer suggested he could sit on their picnic table. The farmer went inside to help his wife and Dorothy and Fiyero sat down.

“This was a really fun day, Scarecrow,” she beamed. “You were so funny all day today.”

“You liked that?”

“Yes. I wish you could have seen yourself scaring those crows. I couldn’t stop laughing.”

Glad to bring her joy, Fiyero chuckled. “At least now we know what to do the next time we need to stock up on food.”

“That was so kind of you, finding me strawberries like that.”

“I almost called them bananas,” he lied, to entertain her.

They chatted and talked as they sat, with Toto moving between them both for additional pets. Curious, Fiyero asked Dorothy about her dog. How old was he? How did he get his name? It was Fiyero’s last question that had Dorothy in stitches. “How did you both meet?”

“Meet?” Dorothy found the Scarecrow’s phrasing funny sometimes. “His mother, Twiggy, lived on our farm. He was born as a puppy and we sold all the puppies, but I got to keep him. I picked him out.”

Surprised, Fiyero almost gasped. “Sold?”

Thinking nothing of it, Dorothy responded, “Mhmm.” She gave Toto a few scratches under his chin. “Two dollars apiece. Twiggy was a purebred and while Toto and his brothers and sisters aren’t, we could ask for a little more for them because of Twiggy.”

Because Kansas was not Oz, Fiyero did his best to not judge her. “Have you…” He had to know. “Ever seen a talking Dog?”

“A dog who barks on command?”

Fiyero wished he would have left it well alone, but it was too late now. “No. A Dog or any Animal that talks. Like you and I are talking.” His gaze went to the farmhouse, unsure what the political climate might be for the farmers inside. He had to be careful.

“Heavens no,” Dorothy shook her head. “That would be something to see.” She thought for a moment. “You’re the only unusual creature I’ve seen talking.”

Unsure how to feel about all that, the selling of babies away from their mother, the lack of talking Animals, and being called a creature, Fiyero wanted to give a small chuckle of discomfort but didn’t. He remembered getting scolded by Feldspur because even a small joke, albeit private, shaped mindsets.

She expected to hear his laughter and when he didn’t, Dorothy was quick with, “If I just insulted you, I’m terribly sorry. We don’t have talking dogs or animals or scarecrows where I’m from.”

Dorothy did not know what political war she landed in and Fiyero couldn’t judge Dorothy based on her experience or words. There were no talking Animals where she lived. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I don’t become offended easily.” He reached over and patted Toto’s head.

“I did insult you, didn’t I?”

Fiyero looked at her and gave a half-grin. “I’ve never been called a creature before.”

When she heard him repeat her words, Dorothy looked horrified, and her face turned pink. “I’m so sorry, Scarecrow.” Her worry was obvious. “You’ve been so nice to me and found me the strawberries,” she was working herself up into a tizzy. “And made me laugh and helped me. I didn’t mean to be rude. Can you ever forgive me?”

If there was one thing Fiyero had learned and could do, it was to forgive. “Dorothy,” he tried to catch her runaway worry train. “I’m not upset. Please, it’s okay.”

“So you forgive me?” Her eyes were round and waiting.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” and, not thinking, Dorothy lunged forward, leaning her cheek into his side as she wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. Toto jumped off the bench and went after the little birds that landed in the yard.

Instinctively, his arms went up and away, looking down at her. The embrace didn’t last long for she was quick to pull off and seeing her expression, Fiyero laughed wholeheartedly.

“I guess I deserved that,” she admitted, looking sheepishly up at him. “You’re still pretty wet.” Hearing that made Fiyero bust out more and together their happy voices echoed across the farmland.

---

The farmer and his wife brought dinner out to the picnic table so Fiyero could continue to dry under the sun. There were three bowls of wonderfully smelling stew, napkins, spoons, and four glasses of water. “I didn’t know if you needed some,” the farmer’s wife admitted.

Dorothy knew better. “I think he’s still damp from the shower.” She shared a knowing look with the Scarecrow.

“Thank you,” Fiyero took the glass and politely sipped what was offered.

The married farmers asked them about the journey they were on. How Dorothy came to Oz. What was Kansas like? What did they hope the Wizard could do for them? How old was the Scarecrow? Where was he from? Fiyero was very grateful for his adjusted playbook because most of the answers ended up with ‘I don’t know’. When asked if he enjoyed being a scarecrow, his chest tightened and he blanked his mind. It was an off-limits topic. His default response stemmed all the way back to his guard duty and school days. “You know, someone like me…” he beamed at Dorothy before looking at the farmers. “I’m always happy.”

After supper, Dorothy and her scarecrow helped clean up and were lent blankets to bring to the barn. Fiyero became unnerved as he carried the tile pile of blankets. They shouldn’t feel heavy at all. The farmer put his hand on the scarecrow’s shoulder and advised, “Don’t go to scare the crows in the morning. You did a fine job today and you shouldn’t be hosed off again so soon.” Grateful and genuinely curious, Fiyero wanted to know why. “Straw easily grows mold, son. Never go swimming unless you plan to re-stuff everything.” The farmer chuckled at how much of a simpleton the scarecrow was because every farmer knew how and why you kept straw bales dry.

“She can go right up there,” he pointed, standing by the barn doors. “I’ll lock this for you, as I do in the evening.” The scarecrow seemed a bit concerned at that thought, so the farmer offered, “There’s a chute on the upper back, in case the barn catches on fire and you need to climb to escape. Don’t worry, you’re not locked in permanently.” Fiyero seemed relieved, and the farmer addressed Dorothy, “You’ve got a good friend in him, that’s for sure.” Both he and his wife were curious about the pair, and the farmer had been watching the scarecrow all afternoon and evening. “He may not be smart, but he has good instincts, scaring those crows and the way he watches out for you.” The farmer meant that to be a compliment as he clapped the scarecrow on the shoulder. With the weight of the blankets and the unexpected shoulder clap, Fiyero stumbled forward and almost fell.

“Yes, he really is a good friend. I’m lucky to have him.” Dorothy looked pleased with the farmer’s words and beamed at the scarecrow.

“Good night to you both. Sweet blessings.”

Fiyero enjoyed hearing the off-handed compliment and didn’t mind at all. Every time he was called stupid, it meant he was doing his job right. “Thank you. Sweet blessing to you and your wife as well.”

Unsure of the customary in Oz, Dorothy offered, “Sweet Blessings.”

Once they were locked in, Fiyero, Dorothy, and Toto climbed up into the hay loft. There wasn’t room to stand, so the scarecrow stooped over as he moved. Not cold, Fiyero used all the blankets to make a more comfortable bed for her.

“You must feel right at home here,” Dorothy observed.

Unsure what she meant, Fiyero looked at her, “Why is that?”

“All this straw.” That caused him to laugh and Fiyero nodded, pushing loose straw out of the way to make her bed. “Scarecrow?”

Her voice held an odd tone that Fiyero picked up on that right away, “Yes?”

“Will you be standing watch down there?”

“I planned on it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He took in her worried features and felt she wasn’t revealing what was on her mind. “Why?”

“No reason. That’s fine.” She laid herself down on the makeshift bed as Fiyero put the blanket around her shoulders.

“Dorothy,” he put a hand on the floor next to her bed to balance. “Did you want to ask me something?”

She shook her head and held Toto to her. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

There was that phrase again. Fiyero frowned. “Dorothy, you’re not any trouble at all.” He sat now, unsure how to help her. “What did you want to ask me?” She hesitated. “Please?”

Dorothy turned to look up at him, “Would you…” She bit her lower lip and he gestured with his face and shoulders, wanting her to finish. “Could you... stand guard up here with me?”

She’s scared. Why he didn’t pick up on that before, Fiyero didn’t know. It was obvious now. “Of course, I will.” He tried to ease her mind and saw the worry across her features change to relief.

“You can sit right here. Next to me.” She scooted over to make more room. Touched by the gesture, Fiyero nodded and moved in, sitting against the stored bales of hay and trying not to make her move too much. “Thank you, Scarecrow.” She leaned in and gave him a hug.

His arms instinctively went up as she hugged his torso, and Fiyero looked down at her. Unlike earlier in the day, when he was wet, she didn’t peel off him, but held him tight. He could hear his own straw crunch as she squeezed him. Careful, and unsure, Fiyero brought his arms down and hugged her back. Dorothy seemed to relax in his arms and Toto came over, curling up in his lap. It was a long day and Dorothy sleepily took Toto in her arms but remained leaning against the Scarecrow. Confused, but accepting, Fiyero reached over and pulled the blanket over Dorothy’s shoulders again, half on himself. This touch, this contact, struck him in ways he couldn’t explain.

Originally, his reasons for being her travel companion were to learn what was happening in the Emerald City and to get closer to finding Elphaba. Conflicted, Fiyero looked down at the tired girl who had no fear of curling up to him to feel safe. Falling into slumberland so easily because she trusted him. He kept watch over her and as she slept, Fiyero vowed he would do his job to protect her. Slow and mindful, he laid his arm around her blanketed shoulder and rested his hand there. He heard her sigh and felt her settle in more. Toto squirmed and pressed his front paws into Fiyero’s straw legs to make himself more comfortable, too. Much like Dorothy loved Toto, Fiyero bonded hard with the girl and her dog. They needed him and he smiled, wanting to be needed.

---

Farm life was early life and used to two decades of waking up before even the sun rose in Winkie Country, Fiyero stirred. The farmer had unlocked the barn doors and quietly crept in. Fiyero saw him look around and then up, where Fiyero carefully lifted a gloved hand in greeting.

“I thought you were standing watch down here,” the farmer couldn’t help his surprise at seeing the scarecrow in the loft, under a blanket, with her.

He kept his voice to a whisper. “She was scared. Asked me to stay with her.” He picked up right away on what the farmer was thinking, having seen that look enough from a few fathers who did not like the flunk-out prince dating their daughters. That the farmer might even entertain that thought churned his stomach. “I sat here all night,” he defended himself. “Guarding her.”

The farmer raised a brow and must have believed him. “You are kind of like a big brother of sorts, I suppose.” Whatever he was thinking, the farmer shook his head and crossed the barn. “A straw and hay-filled brother.” The man made a face and continued to grab some equipment from the wall.

At being judged, a lot of negative thoughts rushed Fiyero and he felt his emotions rise. He quickly closed his eyes and pushed them down and away. He could do it so fast sometimes, he wasn’t aware he was doing it, having had to perfect it as a traitor surrounded daily by Ozian Guards. Fiyero looked at the two and remained where he sat, guarding them, keeping them safe while Dorothy slept. He had to stop himself a few times from thinking that what he was doing was wrong. That thought never entered his mind once until the farmer looked at him like that. It honestly disgusted him.

“I’m hitting the fields with chores now,” the farmer stopped below the hayloft. “You all are welcome to have some breakfast before you go. Metuias can cook up a mean egg and orange juice for her.”

“That’s kind,” Fiyero kept himself neutral. “Thank you.”

“You know how to make your way back to the yellow brick?” Fiyero nodded. “If you get lost, come back and we’ll help you. If you don’t get lost, good luck and many blessings to you both. Hope she gets home and you get that brain.”

“Thank you,” Fiyero repeated. He waited for it.

“Take care of that girl.”

There it is. “I will, Sir.” Fiyero nodded. “Thanks again for your,” Judgement. “Hospitality.”

---

It was a simple morning once Dorothy awoke and had breakfast. They still had grapes, cheese, bread, and lots of strawberries in the basket. Fiyero continued to call them little red hearts instead of strawberries because it made her giggle. Away from home and family for so long, she must have felt isolated. Last night, seeing Dorothy scared made him realize this.

Back on the yellow brick, they continued to follow the long road to Emerald City. Not understanding how close they were, Fiyero’s mind refused to be shut away from thoughts about how he was going to enter. He was well known in Emerald City by many people, mostly the guards, but by others too. Everyone knew Glinda the Good and most knew she was engaged to be married to the handsome captain of the Wizard’s Gale Force Guards, Fiyero Tigelaar. He had heard people refer to him as that. Glinda the Good deserves such a handsome captain of the guards. That new handsome captain of the guards is marrying Glinda the Good today. Have you seen Glinda’s fiancé? I hear he isn’t the brightest, but he’s so handsome. Fiyero always ‘loved it’ when he heard people talking about him behind his back.

Of course, he wasn’t ‘handsome’ anymore. He wasn’t himself anymore and had avoided trying to see his reflection. Not meaning to, when bringing in the borrowed blankets to the farmhouse, Fiyero passed by a hallway mirror and he stopped and stared for a full minute before Dorothy called him to the kitchen. His hair was no longer combed well and brown. It was a disarray of blond wheat stalks that hung in many directions around his hairline. His face was what he feared: a well-worn burlap sack. His nose was brownish-red, looking like someone punched him with rocks and he didn’t want to remember if that had actually happened or not. By the time he took in his other features and clothes, Dorothy called him and he was grateful to be pulled away. He didn’t look at the hallway mirror again and worried all the more that his guard uniform, even ragged looking, would draw unwanted attention in Emerald City.

If they ignored his uniform, the fact he was a walking, talking scarecrow was going to still draw attention, especially if he went with Dorothy to see the Wizard.

“Scarecrow?” Dorothy’s hand reached over and touched his elbow. “You look troubled again.”

He looked down at her and his smile returned. “I’m trying to remember something, and I can’t.”

“What did you forget?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know.” He made a silly face and Dorothy shook her head at him. He squeezed her hand and pushed away any thought on Emerald City for now. May the Unnamed God help me if we run into Glinda there. He didn’t mean to, but that thought snuck back in. 

Chapter Text

Now and then, she swore she felt his spirit in the wind.

In the past week, time stood still for Elphaba. He opened her heart, fulfilling her and proving that goodness in the world could continue. Some ruthless game, the Unnamed God became violent and ripped away the smallest hope she had allowed herself. Violent was too minimal of a word. Elphaba’s emotions defied description.

The new hurt began with the announcement that her former roommate and best friend from Shiz, Glinda, was marrying Fiyero, the only man Elphaba felt an emotional bond to. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. At Uni, Glinda dated Fiyero Tigelaar, and they had been inseparable ever since, even when they shouldn’t have been.

He is a coward, Elphaba thought when she heard the news of his engagement. Hard to forget, Elphaba remembered back to Shiz and the near month they connected. He was honest, and they connected, at least in her mind’s eye and heart. Who is Fiyero, really? It was a question that plagued her daily after he revealed himself by the pond. He was a wild boy; she knew that. Everyone knew that. He thought too much of himself and knew he was attractive and strolled around campus as if the rules didn’t apply to him. The student body threw themselves at his feet and none did it better than her roommate, who secured him as her boyfriend. The day he walked on campus, Glinda confided in Elphaba about her future marriage plans. What claim did Elphaba have to him? Especially when he defiled books and had zero respect for the education she was blessed with. He sought to take everyone’s attention away from doing what they should do and tricked them into breaking the rules. He was conceited. He was narcissistic. He was thoughtless.

He was a lie.

It was all an act.

That statement haunted her for years after Shiz. That day, with the cub in the forest, she had enough of his stupid games and childish behavior. She all but yelled at him that day and while she didn’t realize it at the moment, since then she never forgot his response. “Stand still.” His body moved to obey without question. “Breathe.” Another order he responded to, his eyes exposing someone who was used to being told what to do. Elphaba was trying to get him to stop messing around with the poor Lion cub, so she had thought little about her commands. Time passing, her only remaining possession was memory; she reflected on their interactions. Fiyero Tigelaar snapped to attention, and it wasn’t because he wanted to. He reacted like someone conditioned to obey orders. For years? Maybe his whole life? She understood him from her upbringing, noticing his fake happiness, but it wasn’t until she distanced herself and reflected on the memory that she grasped his situation.

There was a reason he pretended to be happy. There was a reason he snapped to attention when told what to do. Curse it all. There was a reason he didn’t lie to her when she called him out on it. He made a choice that day and he showed her another side to him; Elphaba believed the real him. How could it not be when he distanced himself from Glinda that very day and started thinking? No, Elphaba came to suspect that he had always been thinking, and it was a mystery to her why he would pride himself on being a university dropout and position himself as dumb. Stupid. Even his overused tagline, when looked at through this lens, seemed obvious. After all, who went around advertising that they were brainless?

He cared. Fiyero Tigelaar cared, and something about Doctor Dillamond’s arrest forced Fiyero’s hand to take action. He then showed Elphaba a small glimpse into his life. Who could he be? The boy who knelt next to her, who allowed her to touch him, was not some brainless fool. His fear kept him from revealing himself, and Elphaba burned for him, remembering his vulnerable expression. Glinda touched him all the time, yet Elphaba never saw him look that way. She had seen the two of them hold hands, hug, and kiss. She suspected more, but never inquired. Despite their closeness, the roommates never discussed Glinda’s sex life. Elphaba assumed someone like him would get his way and it was none of her business until he turned it into her business. He emphasized his shared memory of their last encounter with the Lion cub. Fiyero showed up late to the station, not with everyone else, or dragged along by Glinda. The prince all but ignored Glinda on the train platform and tried to make her, Elphaba, smile. He sought to recreate their secluded forest moment. Surrounded by others at the train station, it was a terrible recreation, but he tried, and that often made her smile. He never talked to her after class or pulled her aside for a chat. He waited until she was leaving and showed up late. Fiyero was struggling about this and he was real. She believed that.

Her wounds went deep, years later, when he remained with Glinda and was on the verge of marriage. He had no spine. No substance. He picked comfort and ease over facing whatever he dragged along in his life and tried to hide. Well, he couldn’t hide it from her. Elphaba had seen him and she knew. Which meant that Fiyero Tigelaar was nothing more than a brainless, heartless coward. Why did he bring her a flower, meet her eyes, and wish her luck only to hide again in that public persona of the prince? He hurt her, and he was too stupid to know it.

The joke was on Elphaba, though, and it wasn’t her fault. The joke was on him, also. Whatever game he played, he was too good at it. So good that she couldn’t confirm he loved her and he did not know how she carried a daily torch for him. Alone at night, in her bed, her wandering hand would help her relieve her stress in ways she could only imagine that he might have touched her. He fucked around with many, and she suspected he probably got fucked too. Why wouldn’t he when he seemed so desperate for attention or perhaps approvals? None of his secret past even mattered to her the night he took her against a tree and she spread her legs for him. The memory of that night would stay with her always as the first time she believed he felt loved and the only time she had sex. She had loved him for five years. That’s why everything about the week hurt beyond imagination. She was consumed with anger at them all, and Fiyero was at the top of the list.

The Wizard wooed her back after five angry-filled years. Manipulated and toyed with her emotions. She believed he would accept her, and he duped her into believing his change was genuine and that she had brought out the good in him. People grow. People deserve the benefit of the doubt. Don’t they? Didn’t she crave that from others her whole life when they judged her on her green skin?

To prove his change, the Wizard freed the monkeys; however, he refused to extend this to Doctor Dillamond. The visions confirmed Doctor Dillamond, just as they depicted him. A mere husk of a Goat remained. The Wizard hadn’t changed and lied to her, just like he lied before, and she was a fool to believe him. Fiyero was getting married, and upset, Elphaba confronted the Wizard. Fiyero, Glinda, and the Wizard failed her. Yet, Fiyero surprised her. As captain of the guard, on his wedding day, he left the ceremony to do his guard duty to capture the wicked witch.

He captured her, all right. He picked up right where they both left off on the train station and five years only hardened his passion. Fiyero switched sides, or rather, he had used his fool persona to slip in, to get information of her whereabouts. To be with her, not to hurt her. Fiyero burned for her as brightly as she did for him, and understanding that part of his plan was the most goddamn romantic thing Elphaba had ever seen. He rescued her from the palace and ordered away the guards. Fiyero pulled a gun on the Wizard and took her through the back passages of the palace to escape. He knew them all.

As they fled Emerald City and went northeast, he explained some of what he had been doing the past five years. He told her of his plan with Kiamo Ko and it became apparent he gave this daily thought. As they slowed and settled in the Gillikin Forest, Fiyero finding the distance and safety he sought, his attention turned quick from protecting her to taking her. Every fiber of his being radiated an almost frightening energy. His passion bottled up, he fucked her hard that first time, as if he was an animal in heat. Given how she moaned and welcomed him, she supposed she was, too.

They moved from the tree to lie naked between his huge jacket and her wraps. Fiyero confessed his love for her. Told her he always loved her. Revealed more of his captain’s game and why. She forgave him and told him he was stupid to not have told her this back at Shiz. He was not at all brainless as he claimed and he kissed her deep in apology, telling her the past five years made him wise. His hands moved along her skin and he was rousing her up all over again. She even placed his hand where she liked it best and he, not surprising, obeyed. On their sides, facing each other, they made love and, once more, they timed their enjoyment to come together.

They spent the next few hours talking and holding. Hands roaming in innocent exploration rather than for another round. Her fingers traced his face and with him like this, his hair amuck and his features free, she found him even more attractive. She caressed his hands, his arms, his legs, arse, genitals, chest, and back. Surprised, she discovered his callused hands in her exploration before she ran her fingers across scars she found on his back and arms. Elphaba mentioned these findings to him and he shared he wasn’t always the Winkie Prince she met at Shiz. That he used to be a shy, homeschooled, land-warrior, where getting hit with a sword or falling off your Horse was all part of daily training. Learning this surprised her, revealing a new facet of her lover. Having a deeper appreciation for him through his share and imperfections. When she asked him why he became that Winkie Prince, she didn’t notice how he evaded answering like an expert and got her talking instead about growing up with green skin. Elphaba shared only parts of her actions of the previous five years, clarifying her evasion of him and his guards. She shared her recent visit to Nessa and what happened in Munchkinland and with Boq.

Elphaba also shared her feelings of loneliness, a lifetime, and declared her theory about his similar struggles as an isolated prince. Elphaba’s encouragement helped a reluctant Fiyero acknowledge he felt lonely, too. She told him what she thought about his obedience and how he snapped to attention when ordered and he agreed she was right. She could see this type of talk caused him to retreat into himself, some silent protection she’d seen before, so she brought him back through kisses and hands. Taking charge the third time, Elphaba pushed him on his back, straddled him, and told him he was the most amazing man she had ever met. She filled his head with the truth about why she loved him and they both came so hard that they didn’t care that their voices echoed throughout the forest.

Exhausted and satisfied, they whispered sweet plans, and she shared she had never felt this relaxed and free. Fiyero kissed her forehead and told her he felt the same. He loved her and wanted to spend every day after today with her. No more time apart. Elphaba, not knowing how it would work, nodded and declared the same as she interlaced their fingers before they both fell asleep.

Hours later, a vision awoke Elphaba, and she sat upright as it played out. The Winkie prince waited it out with her, holding her hand when she permitted, and then putting his hand on her back. Elphaba saw so many flashes in her vision it scared her, and she made him promise to stay in the forest. She made him promise to stay safe.

The stupid, selfless idiot didn’t listen, and that’s why she was infuriated at Fiyero. Feldspur too. The farm girl killed Nessa. Glinda was covering it up. The house caused her sister’s death, and Glinda gave the farm girl Nessa’s mother’s shoes. No time to grasp the events of the last 24 hours and mourn her sister. They deceived her, seized her, and intended to transport her to Emerald City. She didn’t care about being dragged to the Emerald City. She mastered evasion. What she cared about was he broke his promise. He promised her he would stay away and Fiyero solo was no match for his guards. He came in like a wreck and yelled at her to go, and in the confusion, she went. As she flew away, she saw him backing up, his gun pointed at Glinda, and she could not keep her thoughts clear. Her sister was dead. She hadn’t time to accept that Nessa was gone and her only thought was to do anything that would prevent Fiyero from suffering the awful fate she saw in her vision.

Try as she did, she failed, and he died, anyway.

In a matter of twenty-four hours, she lost them both.

WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? She screamed in the air, aimed at his spirit and corpse after her vision confirmed his last breath. WHY DID YOU COME TO ME ONLY TO LEAVE ME AGAIN? She had been desperate and used the Grimmerie, shouting nonsense to it as thoughts and visions came to her. In a messy attempt, she cast two or three spells and caught glimpses of his bleeding, beaten, and broken body. The vision showed her lover’s body tortured and slain. Elphaba fell to her knees and screamed. And screamed. And cursed, sobbed, and screamed some more.

She hated Fiyero right then. She hated Nessa. They joined in her circle of anger where the Wizard held the top spot and everyone else lived. She questioned the unhappiness of her life and the retraction of every kindness. Elphaba stayed two days sobbing and screaming in her cave hideaway, and when she came out, she headed to that Kiamo Ko he gave her. Another two days later, she had focus. She had determination. She wanted revenge.

So when the little farm girl had come trolling down the yellow brick road with a fool in tow, and they were nearing Elphaba’s frozen tin man, she grinned and wanted to see this play out. She was consumed by an intense desire to know Boq’s lies and Dorothy’s excuses. Elphaba knew little about the tripping simpleton, but he gave her a few ideas on how to gain their attention. With a smile as wicked as she, Elphaba hid from them to hear it all. 

Chapter Text

They didn’t happen across any new markets, but Dorothy said she was fine because her basket had been so full. She also ate so many strawberries that she grew tired of them; her favorites and all. The trees became more dense and the bright sunny day was clouded partially over by looming branches and leaves from above. While this didn’t bother the Scarecrow, Dorothy took note and stuck closer to her friend.

“Do you hear something?” Dorothy’s eyes went round, and she scooted next to him, holding onto his jacket as if to keep him steady.

With a glance at her, the Scarecrow shook his head. “No. What did you hear?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was the wind.”

Not thinking much of it, the Scarecrow went on his merry way, but secretly he was more on alert. A twelve-year-old girl’s suspicion could be valid. Fiyero walked backward, to be safe, and ended up tripping on an uneven brick. “Are you okay?” Quick, at his side, she saw him nod and helped him back up. As Dorothy got him to his feet, her eyes went round. “Scarecrow, look. Apples!”

“Apples?” He hadn’t even noticed the apple trees, having been looking for moving figures or shadows.

“Yes, apples. They look so delicious.” Dorothy headed off the road, into the grass, to get a closer look at the trees. Behind Dorothy were Toto and the Scarecrow, and the latter agreed the apples looked good.

Dorothy picked an apple. The tree growled at her and took it back, which only ignited Fiyero’s impish nature. “I’ll show you how to get apples,” he grinned overconfidently, insulting the tree in five different ways. Angry, quite a few Ozian apple trees plucked their fruit and ready aim, and fired right at him. He got hit, tripped, got hit again, fell, and one apple smashed him right in the face. Something about a group of angry beings throwing and striking his body and face stirred something deep. He laughed off the uncomfortable feeling as he sat on the ground, trying to catch whatever the tempered trees threw. The joke was really on them because getting hit by apples didn’t hurt. If anything, he convinced himself this was about as fun as running to show Dorothy the little red hearts at the farmer’s market. “Collect as many as you can.” He watched the apple trees catch on and they swore at him, realizing an imbecile had duped them.

“I know with this lot, there is limited top quality, so do your best to find any good ones to put in the basket.” He taunted towards the trees, a proud smirk, and went to the other side of the road to help Dorothy collect all the apples.

She was quiet, busy gathering, when Fiyero heard a weird sound. It sounded like someone banging on the drums of kerosine they used in the guards’ house. Turning, Fiyero saw Dorothy getting up from the ground and when she banged again, his eyes went wide. Whoa, the Scarecrow stopped collecting apples and carried what he had towards Dorothy.

“It’s a man,” she was shocked. “Made of tin.”

It was a man, all right. It’s Boq. Despite the years, Fiyero recognized his former classmate’s face. It was uncanny how much Boq looked so similar to how he was at Shiz. “Is it dead?” The Scarecrow bent curiously, as if not understanding what he saw. Elphaba had told Fiyero about Nessa and Boq and what Elphaba had to do to save Boq’s life after Nessa’s spell. A strange noise came from Boq and Fiyero jumped back, not realizing he was alive, and grabbed onto the statuesque arm of the Tin Man to keep from falling.

Off to the side, watching in hiding from her perch, the Wicked Witch of the West grinned.

Dorothy asked the Tin Man if he was trying to talk and after a few tries she understood him. “He said oil can.” She looked confused at the Scarecrow.

“Oil can… what?” Fiyero thought he sure sounded like an oil can when Dorothy banged on him.

“Oh!” She pointed to the physical oil can on a half-tree stump next to the Scarecrow. Together, they worked to use the oil can on the Tin Man’s mouth and Fiyero remembered the last time he saw Boq. They were going to study and Boq offered to help Fiyero get his school work back on track. At the train station, Fiyero’s farewell to Elphaba marked a turning point, prompting him to take charge of his life. He surrendered to love and he could see all of Elphaba’s accomplishments compared to none of his own. He committed to turning things around, stopping his playbook, and coming clean to the two women in his life. These were his plans.

Five years ago, one visit to the Emerald City blew those plans to hell. He had to make new plans and That Night, his plans were destroyed, yet again. That. Night.

“Are you okay?” That question was something Dorothy often asked of him, and Fiyero realized he had blanked out again. He was about to answer, but the question was aimed at Boq.

“I am okay, thank you. Oh, thank you. That is so kind.” The Tin Man appreciated the extra oil being applied. The sound of Boq’s voice and Munchkin accent had Fiyero feeling uneasy.

“You’re most welcome. Where can we help you next?” The Tin Man directed Dorothy to the areas of rusted stillness on his body and she thrust the oil can in the Scarecrow’s hands to help on the opposite side. Fiyero said little as the two talked, working hard to stay present and oil as instructed. Listening.

When Boq told the story of how he had been standing there mid-chop for a year, Fiyero blinked hard. He estimated a month, plus or minus a few weeks. Elphaba didn’t specify the timing; perhaps it occurred earlier, yet he remained uncertain. Fiyero was quiet, as he tried not to draw too much attention to himself. Boq’s faulty memory kept him safe for now.

The sound of metal scraping against metal drew both the girl’s and the Scarecrow’s attention. “It feels so good to move again.” He let down the axe he had been carrying.

“You know, the Wicked Witch did this to me.” He looked at Dorothy and then right at the Scarecrow. An odd chill waved through Fiyero, and he stumbled a step back.

Dorothy felt immediate sympathy for him. “I’m sorry to hear.” She thought the Tin Man meant him rusting solid. “She’s after me, too.”

Boq looked sadly at Dorothy and fired off his questions to her about what she knew of the wicked witch. From what Fiyero could tell, they were good, intelligent questions. He expected nothing less from Boq, who was always observant in school and earned high marks. All the more reason for me to stay silent.

“No heart?” Fiyero heard Dorothy and saw her eyes go round. She explained what happened to her in Munchkinland and Boq was very interested in learning.

Boq nodded and added his perspective on the Wicked Witch. He was taking steps now, moving towards the yellow brick to test out his mobility on a more flat surface. “All I wanted in life was to be with the woman I loved.” Fiyero felt his chest ache while listening to Boq. “As I am now, who would love me?” That statement hit Fiyero hard as he glanced down at the straw poking out of his wrists and stood dumbfounded next to Dorothy.

Boq tested out his stability much like Fiyero first had, but unlike the Scarecrow, the Tin Man had prior practice and a solid frame. While not entirely stable, Boq was better on his feet and could do a lot of fancy moves. Fiyero would have been jealous of Boq’s upright nature had Dorothy not whispered in his ear that they should offer to help the Tin Man too. He had always enjoyed Boq’s friendship, and it sounded like a great idea at first.

The Scarecrow smiled at Dorothy’s kind-hearted nature because she was thinking about how the Wizard could help Boq. Since the beginning, it didn't serve him to tell her what the Wizard could or couldn't do. Her kindness reminded him of Elphaba, trying to save anyone she could. As the Scarecrow watched Boq dance, he recalled times when, as schoolmates, they all went out. Many visits to the Ozdust where Boq would copy Fiyero’s dance moves and then build up to unique, fun moves of his own. The times they took their study circle outdoors and held picnics or tried to hide each other’s books. Fiyero missed the silly, carefree days and realized he missed himself. Years passed since he last had such fun. Loud clunks took his attention and whatever further thoughts they might have, Fiyero and Dorothy quickly were on the move, trying to catch the Tin Man. Boq landed hard on a chopped stump, thinking nothing could help him, so Dorothy praised the Wizard’s abilities. Wouldn’t it be nice if the Tin Man joined them?

At first, he saw no harm in it. His focus had been divided since the group of trees hurled apples and insults at him. When Boq agreed the Wizard could help and offer a heart, Fiyero’s worry started to fester and solidify. Boq was not talking about the wicked witch kindly and, strategically speaking, what if Boq realized who he was? All Fiyero had to do was say one thing out of place or make another mistake of swearing out loud with his Winkie voice, and that would raise questions and suspicions. Dorothy would learn of his true nature and if she felt betrayed by him, Fiyero didn’t know if he could bear it. He imagined she would look much like Glinda had looked at him on their wedding day, staring bewildered and hurt in the Wizard’s palace. I am growing tired of lying and hurting others. His chest tightened, and he tried to stand behind Dorothy to protect himself from Boq’s gaze, as if Fiyero could disappear.

From her spot, Elphaba watched them chat about nothing important other than getting the Tin Man back to working order. The Tin Man still lamented over love, as if he had a right after stringing along her sister. Elphaba was pleased and smirked, hearing that Boq thought he had been standing there frozen for over a year. He may, or may not, recall it was recent. She tried that little Forget-Me-Knot spell on him when she first came out of mourning and froze him in place. The rust she gave him an added visual touch. Eavesdropping, the Wicked Witch could hear Boq continue to tell his tale of woe about his heart to the other two.

Her assessment of the Scarecrow was that he had been helping Dorothy for a while and the farm brat seemed to rely on him. Her smile widened, thinking of some fun to be had at the simpleton’s expense. While the Tin Man talked and moved around on the yellow brick road, distracting them, she flew up to the roof of a small, abandoned cottage. Situated, Elphaba thought about how easy this could be, as neither one of the farm girl’s two companions seemed to stay on their feet. About to start the fun, she paused, hearing them talk about the Wizard. She narrowed her eyes. Hearing the little brat brag about the greatness of the Wizard caused Elphaba to lose it. The witch cackled loud and revealed herself.

All three of them jumped, and Dorothy swiftly picked up Toto to protect him. She clutched the little dog to her chest, trying to appear brave, but her heart was racing. She was face to face again with the Wicked Witch of the West and she knew the older lady did not believe her when she pleaded she hadn’t meant for her house to kill the Wicked Witch of the East. Dorothy wished Glinda the Good would appear to help them, but it seemed the bubble-traveling witch was busy elsewhere.

Fiyero’s reaction to being surprised was real, and he near jumped out of his skin because he had been stuck in his head, worried about traveling with Boq. Completely distracted, he failed Winkie Country tracking and Guard Training 101 by letting a threat creep up so close. It all flashed fast before him, like a switch. The Scarecrow saw the ‘enemy’ and feared that both Boq and Elphaba would figure him out. From his half-crouched, half-stumble recovery stance, Fiyero froze. She looked so angry, looked so cruel, and he wondered what in the hell happened to her after she fled from the fields that night he had been… Memories assaulted him and his mind was a blank canvas on the pallet of violence. Fiyero was bound in place, silently trembling from the onslaught of torture that refused to be blocked. His eyes were moving, but he was kilometers away from Dorothy, surrounded by his ex-squadron in the cornfield.

He saw their rocks, the axe, the fists, and felt the pain. Fiyero felt the dirty rope digging into his neck, the overwhelming smell, and the sharp nail hooked into his back. His soldiers' insults filled his ears along with their patronizing laughter. He was panicking as he stood frozen in place, knowing he wanted to pay attention to the present, yet he was stuck. Elphaba warned them about helping Dorothy, and he could barely hear her words. Something about a mattress and beehive. Fiyero couldn’t snap out of it until she cast a ball of fire from her hand and threw it at him.

He yelped, jumped, stumbled back and tripped, trying to get away. Fiyero was half here, still stuck in that nightmare strung up on that pole. Like a crab, he scrambled backward on the ground, on his elbows, arse, and boots. His fear of That Night became intertwined and confused with this actual danger. Fiyero couldn’t regroup. Triggered by the onslaught of memories, he recalled his entire body bursting in white hot pain. The one thing he didn’t want to do, Fiyero did. He heard his own Winkie voice screaming, “I’m burning! I’m burning!” Luckily Dorothy’s shriek, mixed with his hysteria and the witch’s laughter, covered the mistake, along with the added absurdity of he wasn’t even aflame.

Boq had stepped in heroically and used his tin funnel cap to put the fire out. Fiyero fought and forced himself to push That Night away. He had to come back to the present, yet he remained helpless on his back, panting, looking up at both Dorothy and Boq. He was cowering on the ground and didn’t even realize at first that the one person he wanted was now gone. The Scarecrow blinked, reality snapping back. What just happened? Where's Elphaba? That Night? By Vinkus, I don’t.. no.. no... not That Night. He couldn’t stop shaking, remembering events he needed to forget.

Feeling more than foolish, as Dorothy pulled him up on his boots again, he swallowed and stated, “I’m not afraid of her.” Something he told Dorothy when he first met the girl. He felt the need to talk, seeing as how That Night got the better of him. Fiyero forced his voice stronger, yet inside he was a shivering mess. “I’ll help you get to the Wizard whether or not I get a brain.” His adrenaline was flooding him, even though Elphaba was gone. He was upset at himself for completely disassociating with reality and blanking out, especially as he wanted to find Elphaba. He blew his chance. That cornfield, he now fought again to push away any thoughts of That Night that tried to creep in.

Also angry at the witch, his memory slow to come back, Boq declared the same about his heart. All that mattered was getting Dorothy to the Wizard, he declared out-loud. Boq had his own reasons for wanting to go to the Emerald City.

So grateful, Dorothy declared they were the best friends she ever had, and both of her companions smiled. She rested her hand on the Scarecrow’s arm and that helped ground him. Fiyero was grateful for the touch and, still rattled, he offered a less shaky elbow to Dorothy. “To Oz?” She happily took his arm. She repeated the phrase and so did Boq. Fiyero swallowed and looked around, trying to understand how he lost it so easily to the point he was still trembling.

Back on the yellow brick, Dorothy taught the Tin Man their songs and the three of them moved at a good pace. Despite his outward happiness, Fiyero was unnerved, and he tried to stay off Boq’s radar by keeping Dorothy in between them. The Scarecrow kept the silly songs going by rote and rationalized that while at first he was worried about Boq being here, having a Tin Man around would be an additional distraction away from him once they entered the Emerald City. Besides, Boq, unlike Fiyero, could swing an axe and put out fires. Fiyero remembered that, in school, he had been the center of attention, and Boq had stayed more in the background. The Scarecrow was grateful for the new dynamic, provided Boq remained unaware.

Chistery’s arrival on the scene, waiting patiently in the trees, was the reason Elphaba left so sudden. Once they arrived at Kiamo Ko, they sat in her new chambers and discussed his urgency in finding her. He didn’t seek her out without reason and he gestured about the Wizard spreading new lies about her in the Emerald City. She was coming up with a plan on how she would deal with this fresh attack and then her efforts could return to the farm girl.

“She’s got two fools helping her,” Elphaba shook her head to Chistery as she served him some tea and fruit. “Neither are stable on their feet but the Tin Man found himself an axe after he left Munchkinland and for that, you and your troops will need to be mindful.” Chistery gestured in communicating with her and Elphaba was very patient with him.

Nodding, she repeated what she thought he meant. “The girl will give you no trouble, I think. She depends a lot on the other two.” More gestures and Elphaba nodded, “Saw that, did you? Yes, I agree that scarecrow died of fright when I shot that fireball at him. If he gets in the way, it would take only two or three of your troops to dismantle him easy enough. Or pick him up and drown him in a river. Of course, he might survive that by floating away.”

With that image in mind, they shared a laugh and agreed on a dismantling being the best course. “Let’s go take care of this latest rumor from our dear friend the Wizard, and we’ll deal with the girl soon enough.” Grabbing her broom, Elphaba and Chistery took to the clouds.

Chapter Text

There weren’t any farmhouses or abandoned cottages to offer shelter that night, so it was back to sitting, leaning against trees. She felt safe, so Dorothy moved right next to Fiyero and snuggled into his torso, pressing the straw down for comfort to make herself at home. The Tin Man watched the two of them and stood guard that night. The Scarecrow thanked him and looked forward to catching up on sleep. Once Dorothy was in slumberland, the Tin Man’s gaze locked onto the tired Scarecrow. “She said you’re asking for a brain.”

Fiyero opened his eyes and nodded.

“Would you call yourself brainless?”

Chest tightening, the Scarecrow shrugged, “I guess so.” He reached into his jacket and shook out some straw. “I think I have hayseed in my burlap sack, but I don’t know.”

Boq nodded, watching the Scarecrow’s reaction. “Brainless reminds me of a friend I had. Back at school.”

“Does it?” Fiyero looked eager to hear more. Inside, he was not enjoying this one bit. His mind raced on potential contingencies and exit plans. 

“You almost remind me of him.”

“I do?” The Scarecrow looked happy. 

“Yes, you do. He prided himself on being brainless. Talked about it all the time.” 

The Scarecrow beamed in his innocent way. “That’s quite a coincidence. Being brainless is a burden, I think.” He gave a small shrug, not wanting to awaken Dorothy. “But I am guessing. I don’t know.”

“Mhmm,” Boq studied him. 

Nervous but not showing, “I remind you of your friend. I feel honored.”

“He was once my friend,” Boq corrected. 

“But you just said…” The Scarecrow tilted his head as if thinking hard. Fiyero was a little surprised, however, a lot had happened in five years.

“He was a complete idiot, if I’m being honest. Fun most of the time, but…” Boq had his reasons for wanting to distance himself from the Traitor of Oz. 

Not missing a beat, Fiyero nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He dated the woman I loved. And if he hadn’t been so outlandish and attractive, or became a guard, I believe people would have recognized his ignorance for what it was.”

“That sounds terrible,” Fiyero forced his emotions still and didn’t look away. He faced this head-on and prayed Boq had been in Munchkinland so long he did not know what a Gale Force Guard’s uniform looked like. Of course, once we arrive in the Emerald City...

Boq nodded, “It was. And he got the girl. Imagine being born rich into a sort of royalty and the only thing going for you are your looks and your title of prince.” Lost in thought, “I also heard he left her at the altar. The girl I used to love.” Even though he was no longer blind to Glinda, hearing about that made Boq mad. “Rumor has it they were taking their vows, about to complete their union, and the Wicked Witch appeared. He betrayed Glinda, defecting to Oz’s enemy.”

The Scarecrow couldn’t react or comment on what he had done at the palace. He was on dangerous ground and couldn’t feel guilty or Boq would know. Fiyero felt his emotions wanting to rise again, and he stretched upward, covering his mouth with a yawn to regroup himself. What Boq didn’t know was Fiyero had dealt with this every day for five years as a guard. “Princes can be stupid people, from what I’ve been told.” Fiyero doubled down. “I’m sorry I remind you of your friend-not-friend. I promise you, once I get my brain, I’ll use it in a way that’s wise.” 

“Hmm.” Boq studied the Scarecrow and tried to recognize his features. He couldn’t remember. “If that bitch of a Wicked Witch comes again, stay behind me and I’ll protect you. Me and my axe. I’d love to lop her head off if given the chance.”

Now his emotions did rise and Fiyero turned up the act. “That would be great. Thank you.” 

“She is an evil thing.” Boq narrowed his eyes. “She is the one who created me and shrank my heart.”

She saved your sorry arse because of what Nessa did. “That’s right. You said.” Boq nodded, staring at the strawman. Fiyero forced his face to neutral. “You must be so mad; so awful. You weren’t always a Tin Man?”

“No, I wasn’t. Were you always a scarecrow?” The simpleton nodded. “You got good and scared today, by that bitch of a witch and the fire.” 

The Scarecrow nodded again and looked down. “I try to be brave. The fire is my weakness, as you can guess.”

“Yes. I can.” He studied the Scarecrow. “Want to know what I heard that happened to my brainless friend from school?”

“Oh yes, please.” Fiyero braced himself. 

“I heard he fucked that bitch-of-a-witch and then died a horrible traitor’s death.”

He worked hard against That Night. “That traitor deserved it then.” Out of sight from Boq, Fiyero made a fist against the side of his left leg. “That Wicked Witch is awful.” Tilting his head the other way, as if thinking very hard, he diverted, “What does that mean?”

“What?”

“Your friend ‘fucked that bitch-of-a-witch’?”

Boq shook his head, amused, having decided that the Scarecrow was harmless. “Don’t worry about it.” He wasn’t about to describe love and sex to a mindless stitching of straw. “Do me a favor, though.”

“Sure. Anything,” the Scarecrow appeared eager to help. 

“Don’t repeat these words I’m teaching you. Especially to Dorothy. It’s not appropriate for a young girl to hear.” He saw the confused scarecrow nod, and Boq believed the simpleton would keep it to himself. “Very good. You should get some sleep. I’ll wake you if I get tired.”

The Scarecrow was all smiles and nodded. “Thank you, Tin Man.” He put his arm around Dorothy in protection, hearing her sigh in comfort at the extra layer. “Many blessings,” he ended with that before he settled in and shut his eyes. 

“Many blessings,” the Tin Man got ready to patrol, looking away. 

Aware of the scrutiny he was under, Fiyero tried not to think or congratulate himself on passing that test. Fiyero felt the pressure of the interrogation mounting, and he knew he had to be careful. Even if surprised or overcome by memories he didn’t want, he had to work harder to keep his Winkie voice hidden. If Boq decided the Scarecrow was the Traitor of Oz, Fiyero doubted he’d survive an axe chop to the head. He couldn’t afford to find out. 

When sleep found the Scarecrow, he had a fit-filled night. Perhaps because of Boq’s presence, Fiyero’s voice never cried out as his memories in the cornfield plagued him. He woke up two times in a panic, his body buzzing in memory of phantom pain. In seeing Elphaba today, he recalled the last time he met her eyes, yet it triggered all that he didn’t want to remember. Boq was walking around on the yellow brick, patrolling the way they had come, so Fiyero reached up and wiped his eyes. Being seen distraught wouldn’t do, and heaven help him if he screamed again in his own voice. The Scarecrow shook as if chilled.

Toto climbed into his lamp, gave a soft whimper, and pressed his head into the Scarecrow’s chest to comfort him. Fiyero pet the kind dog and looked down at Dorothy, who also leaned against him, still asleep. He concentrated on their closeness, their kindness, and friendship. Dorothy may have needed him, but Fiyero knew he needed her too. With each new version of the fool, the game got more dangerous. As a guard, his squadron killed him, and he could die again from Boq’s axe if he had another mental breakdown.

The trees now obscured the moon, but it was still nighttime. He could hear Boq clunking back this way so Fiyero hugged Toto and closed his eyes. He felt Dorothy and Toto breathing and focused on that. He wanted to fall back asleep but feared those nightmares would return and he might shout out, leading to questions. Awake, he picked a better memory that he could latch onto. One of his favorites that he revisited often in the past five years. The night he first met her. 

~~~~

“Come on, then. Let’s have a bet.” 

“I’m not betting on you. You could decide to prolong our stay, forcing time, so I’ll lose.”

“Scandalous. I wouldn’t do that.” He waited for the older male to respond, yet there was only silence. The non-response and quiet spoke volumes. “Be honest. What would I gain by prolonging this next torture?”

After waiting, a grunt was his only response. 

“Well, I guess you think little of me.”

“You forget, I know you better than anyone.”

“I suppose.” 

“You suppose?” The older male sounded offended. “I’ve known you since you were born. In nappies. Running around the grounds like a fool.” A good-spirited snort, “Some things never change.”

“Ouch.” A light chuckle. “The nappies or the fool?”

“Depends on the day.”

A hearty laugh filled the forest. “I want to see the school quad close up before we arrive tomorrow. Try to glimpse the best way to enter. Can we hurry it up a bit?”

The elder shook his head. “Always you and these grand entrances.”

“Can’t disappoint anyone.” That cocky tone to his voice was ever-present. 

“Hmm,” an annoyed but playful grunt. “What if we entered like normal students for a change? Or.” He thought. “You haven’t played the shy one since that first school.”

“Oh, yes. And where did that get us? That shyness was real, and I spent the longest time at that uni. It was awful and if we can get in and out of this one, we may have time for one more before the holidays hit.”

“Another one?”

“Goals.”

Unsure if the boy was kidding or not, “Fine.” A grunt. “Hang on.” Without further warning, Feldspur took off running, causing his passenger, employer, and friend to lurch backward. “Ha!” A neighing laugh as his rider almost fell. 

“By Vinkus, you almost got me that time,” Fiyero leaned forward, his hands wrapping another loop around the reins. “You nasty Horse.” He lied. “No friend of mine.” 

“You’d be useless and lost without me.” And to prove his point, Feldspur lept over a fallen tree, causing Fiyero to all but grab onto his mane. In hearing the prince quiet for a change, Feldspur felt victorious and reveled in the triumph. Until they came around a corner in the path and he neighed and sputtered, digging his hooves into the mossy dirt. “Whoa.” 

A girl cried out in surprise. 

“Whoa there!” Fiyero wasn’t sure what was happening. 

“Great…” he almost cursed in front of her and neighed instead. 

“Whoa,” Fiyero pretended to be in control. 

“I did not see her.”

Fiyero thought they were alone on the trail until Feldspur skidded. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

Shocked, Feldspur shook his mane and noted the woman getting up from the ground. “Em. You might want to,” he felt Fiyero dismount. “Um...” Within earshot of the girl, he didn’t want to have her hear charm the girl back into your good graces. Feldspur knew Fiyero’s talents and had too often seen them at work firsthand. The boy had a way of talking his way through anything. “You know,” he guided as best he could after near plowing into her. 

“Okay.” Holding up his hand to give the silent cue of ‘stop talking’ and to let Feldspur know the expert was at work. “Yeah,” he tried to wave the Horse off. “Leave it with me.” 

Feldspur watched as Fiyero composed himself and approached, “I’m so sorry, Miss. We didn’t see you there.” Fiyero was reaching out to help her, which was a good move. They all fall for him, the Horse thought. Every type of human or Animal. 

“You must’ve...” Fiyero couldn’t find the words when the girl stood and faced him. Feldspur’s eyes went round at what she revealed, and Fiyero dared to use what he saw. “Blended with the foliage.” 

Feldspur had to turn his head and bite his tongue. The boy is talented. By Vinkus. 

Not impressed, the girl looked at Fiyero with an anger behind her eyes. “Is this how you go through life? Just running amok and trampling anyone in your path?”

Fiyero looked shocked and Feldspur watched the entertainment. Fiyero’s tongue froze for a second. “No,” he heard the boy find his voice and Feldspur’s neighed jovial, earning a look from Fiyero. The Horse cleared his throat. He saw the boy trying to recover and Feldspur heard Fiyero turn on the usual charm. “No. Sometimes I’m asleep.” While he couldn’t see his face, Feldspur recognized the tone and body language. That smug smile, I bet. 

Elphaba’s lack of reaction surprised Feldspur, as he expected her to fawn over the prince. A scoff. An intake of the information, as if she were studying for a test. “All right,” she decided, and Feldspur had to neigh in low tones because he was about to laugh again. Fiyero was not winning and gave another quick look back to the Horse. “Here we go.” The girl looked right at Fiyero. “No. I’m not seasick.”

Not missing a beat, Fiyero was determined to keep his record. “Neither am I,” he kept a straight face. 

“No, I did not eat grass as a child.”

“Oh, you didn’t? I did.” He was turning it up with his body language, Feldspur could see. 

She wasn’t going for it yet. “And Yes. I have always been green.”

Still not missing a beat, Fiyero’s quick wit shown, “And the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?”

Feldspur waited for her to break. To laugh. Get mad. Something. The green girl just stared at the boy and he could see Fiyero duck his head like Feldspur had seen him do a hundred times before. A trick the boy started way back when he wanted to get out of trouble with his mother. 

“Hmm,” was all she gave, and she turned, dismissing him. Feldspur couldn’t hold back anymore and started laughing outright. Seeing Fiyero meet his match. Better than his match. Fiyero shushed Feldspur, but that didn’t stop the Horse, especially as he watched her walk away to pick up her fallen lantern. The green girl turned and looked at them, and Feldspur stopped laughing, trying to let Fiyero know to turn around. “Oh, no no...” he clicked. Fiyero caught on and turned back to the girl, hands on his waist. She was unimpressed by them both. 

Fiyero couldn’t give up. Not yet. “I’m off for some more trampling.” He figured he might win her over once she got on Feldspur. “May we offer you a ride?” 

Not even looking back, she dismissed him and called over her shoulder, “No, thanks.” She seemed happy to be getting on by her own power and waved him off as she walked away. “Get stuffed.”

In watching her go, Fiyero admitted, “Well. Feldspur, we have just been spurned by a girl.” 

“Mmm, indeed.”

While he shook off the loss, Fiyero accepted, “I guess there is a first time for everything.” He moved back to his friend, mounted, and Feldspur noted there was nothing more spoken about the interaction. Taking off, slow at first as they passed the green girl, he saw Fiyero gave a silent nod and received nothing in return. That’s also a first, Feldspur chuckled to himself, but said no more of it. He went at a good clip through Shiz University, keeping out of sight of anyone else. The two of them knew the game and were masters at scouting unseen. They had been doing it together for almost two decades. 

~~~~

He opened his eyes, looking for Boq but didn’t see him, so he again wiped the moisture from his face. He missed those times at Shiz with his friends. Fiyero wanted to be with Elphaba again, but like this? She told me that night to get stuffed. If only she knew how right she would be. He glanced down at the straw that always ended up sneaking out to the top of his boots, no matter how he tucked them in. I ended up stuffing her though, didn’t I? His smile crept across his face in a cocky manner, wanting to revisit the good part of That Night, but then fell. Boq’s earlier words hit so close to home and were haunting: As I am now, who would love me?

Again, Fiyero looked down to be hit with the reality of the straw coming out near his gloves. Look at me. I won’t ever be able to… Stop. Dorothy’s leaning against you. Stop it and don’t you dare. Instead, he held onto seeing Elphaba’s determined face and resolve as she faced off with him on the trail near Shiz. She made such an impression on him and told him off. That night, unlike anyone else, she surprised him. He enjoyed being taunted by ‘the green girl’. No one was honest to his face, ever. She had no problem speaking her mind, and she revealed no remorse towards who heard her or what opinions they had. True, she cared, but she never let that stop her. Face it, I love her because she doesn’t pretend. Unlike me. Elphaba had always been strong and different... From the moment he met Elphaba Thropp, she stood tall and was honest.

That first night on Shiz campus was one of his favorite memories and often Feldspur and he laughed at how quick Fiyero pulled out the foliage comment. He never asked Elphaba what she thought about meeting him. They never discussed much, even now. More than ever, Fiyero was determined to find her and let her know how much he loved her. Needed her. No one in his whole life ever made him feel more alive. 

‘It’s no longer a man.’

Fiyero shivered as the echoes of That Night punished him. He felt Toto nuzzle against his torso and he swallowed, You’re a straw-filled scarecrow. You can’t even do anything. What use can she have of you? As those negative thoughts arrived, Fiyero reminded himself that he needed a soldier’s clarity and to keep his head clear. He lifted Toto and nuzzled his face against the dog’s head, something he did with Feldspur to help ground himself. To stop beating himself up. 

Fiyero knew he had to believe that they would make it. I love her. She loves me. We’ll figure this out.

Doubt still lived in his head.

Won’t we? 

Chapter Text

Another dawn arrived with the sun blazing overhead. He was still half-asleep, eyes closed, recalling the farmer’s advice. The Scarecrow wondered what he would do if it rained and there was an irony if he ever understood one. All the rumors about Elphaba dying if she got wet and now he had to be careful around water. He wasn’t the only one either, with Boq. While Dorothy and Toto could make do with rainy weather, Fiyero and Boq could not. Rust. Mold. The thought of mold growing inside him made him queasy, so he dismissed it. Slowly, Fiyero opened his eyes to greet the day. Dorothy woke up first this morning and had made herself a small picnic of fruit, cheese, and bread on Fiyero’s legs.

“Little red hearts,” he smiled, watching her use him as a table.

“Good morning, Scarecrow. Good morning, Tin Man.” She fed Toto some of the cheese before eating another strawberry.

In seeing them awake, the Tin Man came near and stood over them. “Good morning. How did you both sleep?”

“Fine, thank you,” Dorothy reached for a small jug of water.

“Very well, thank you,” the Scarecrow watched Boq as he still appeared on alert. “How did your watch duty go?”

“Uneventful, so good.”

“Are you hungry?” Dorothy realized she had not offered the Tin Man something to eat. Her answer was the Tin Man banging on his empty chest. “Oh. Right. You’re like the Scarecrow. Neither one of you needs to eat.” A glance at the Scarecrow, she added, “So curious, really.”

The Scarecrow jumped in. “Dorothy says I might figure out why I don’t need to eat once the Wizard gets me a brain.”

“You don’t need to eat because you’re made of straw,” Boq answered matter-of-factly.

“Do you miss eating?” The Scarecrow looked up at their pewter friend. “You said that you weren’t always made of tin, didn’t you?””

Boq laughed and smiled. “No, I wasn’t always metal.” I used to be a Munchkinlander. Flesh and bone.”

Fiyero couldn’t help himself, “Do you miss that? Being a man?” He caught himself struggling with this.

“Of course I miss it.” he looked at the Scarecrow, almost annoyed, and remembered the strawman didn’t know about the world.

“Can you still taste food?” Dorothy had a strawberry ready in her hand.

The Tin Man smiled and eyed what she held. “I tried a boiled egg a few weeks back. I could taste it, but it wasn’t something that seemed like I should eat, so I spit it out.”

Fiyero was listening with great interest, as he hadn’t tried to eat anything. His thoughts went to Elphaba and Boq and then something in him snapped and he blanked out. Instead, he managed, “If you had swallowed it, would it have sat and rotted inside you?” There wasn’t a good way to open his tin torso, unlike Fiyero, who could reach inside and feel, not only straw, but his wooden structures.

“I suppose so,” Boq had to agree and looked around. “When you’re done there, Dorothy, we should go. The Emerald City is still quite far from here.”

“Have you been there?” The Scarecrow couldn’t get up or move because of the impromptu breakfast picnic.

“No, but on my patrol this morning, given the way we need to go, the forest becomes more dense instead of allowing us to see the clearings. I’ve studied maps in school and the Emerald City is a long journey from Munchkinland.” He glanced at the other two, “Neither one of you are fast travelers, so we’re at a disadvantage in pace and I know you want to go home.”

There were many times Fiyero wanted to kiss Boq on the forehead when they were students at Shiz. Sometimes it was when they went out drinking and Boq said something funny or brilliant, shy as the guy was back then. Other times it was when Boq told a joke that made Glinda laugh and he could tell the attention Boq received from her was like currency. Then of course there was the time Boq offered to help Fiyero get caught up in all his classes. That was the day Elphaba went off to meet the Wizard, and Fiyero decided to turn his life around.

Right now, Fiyero wanted to plant a big old kiss on that shiny forehead of Boq’s because Boq was being strategic. A leader. A role Fiyero couldn’t touch and one the group needed. Boq was taking over, and that only helped the brainless scarecrow remain hidden. “He’s right, I think,” Fiyero looked at Dorothy. “I’m not very good at walking and…” He stopped himself before he insulted her.

“These shoes aren’t the best for travel,” Dorothy finished. “Glinda the Good Witch did say they would protect me and she must be right because Toto and I have both of you now.” Hearing that made Fiyero smile.

“If Glinda said so. Agree,” Boq tried to hurry them along. “And now we should get moving.”

“You can get up, Scarecrow. I need to clean up here.”

Fiyero smiled, amused. “Dorothy…”

“Yes?”

Boq was becoming impatient, so he pointed out, “You made a picnic on him. The Scarecrow can’t move until you’re finished.”

“Oh, right,” she laughed. “That’s silly.”

“It’s alright,” Fiyero chuckled. “Want me to help you?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Boq stepped in and bent down. “Here.” He began grabbing fruit and cheese, tossing them into her basket. Fiyero took note and realized Boq wasn’t the same shy and quiet guy he was in school. The Boq he knew would have waited, but here he was, moving things along. He smiled, remembering telling Elphaba that he had changed since Shiz. I guess we’re not all the same anymore. Not him, Elphaba, Glinda, or Boq. Even Nessa had changed… Her death rushed him.

-

“...Hey. Hey. Scarecrow.” Fiyero realized Boq had been calling him. Fiyero's head had gone kilometers away. “Come on, wake up.” Boq was standing over him, half bent, and reaching out his hand. “Scarecrow?” Dorothy was standing, her basket on her arm, and Toto was on all fours, wagging his tail.

The Scarecrow’s glove reached up and grasped the Tin Man’s hand. “Scarecrow, you need to stay sharp on this journey,” Boq thought he was being helpful. “I know you want to be given a brain, but I’m going to name you after that schoolmate of mine if you can’t pay attention.”

Dorothy was curious. “What was the name of your schoolmate?”

“Fiyero,” the Tin Man yanked the Scarecrow to his feet, almost sending the strawman forward. “He was brainless too.” Dorothy’s eyes went wide. “I’m not being mean. He claimed it all the time. Never did his homework. Anyway, the guy’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorothy gently put a hand on the Tin Man’s arm.

“Don’t be. He was a traitor to Oz and died a traitor’s death.”

The Scarecrow felt all the blood drain out of his face, which was saying something, considering his skin was a burlap sack and he had no blood. “Calling me Scarecrow is just fine.” Fiyero looked from one to the other in rapid succession.

“All right then, Scarecrow. Let’s go.” Boq turned and marched back to the yellow brick. Fiyero stumbled his way forward, mind racing, and Dorothy took hold of his jacket to steady him once more.

----

For the next few hours, the Tin Man, the dog, the Scarecrow, and Dorothy continued the journey. As the trees overhead grew taller and bigger, large canopy-type branches and leaves covered their tops, preventing much sunlight from coming through. On the yellow brick, their fallen branches and debris became more plentiful, more isolated. This path saw little use. Fiyero wondered when was the last time a cart carrying deliverables had passed this way. Why had it been built if it was no longer in use.

He had a good idea where they were now. Years of hunting the Wicked Witch all over Oz had him studying maps, like he did with his father growing up. Only the territory was wider spread.

Dorothy stuck to the Scarecrow’s side, holding onto him in case he needed help. That’s what she said, but Fiyero knew better. These dark woods scared her, just like the night in the hayloft. He didn’t mind, and patted her hand from time to time to comfort her.

“Tin Man?” She reached out and tapped Boq's back. “Will you please slow a little? Stay by us?”

“I don’t mind scouting ahead. It’s a good thing to do, to send a scout with an axe.”

Fiyero stepped forward a few larger steps, his balance wavering, “If you don’t mind, it would help us for you to stay near.” A glance around, he added, “Just in case someone shows up.”

Not noticing that the Scarecrow was covering for Dorothy, Boq slowed his pace. “Don’t you realize you should be more worried about wild animals than her in this type of dense forest?”

Right away Fiyero picked up animals vs. Animals and his heart sank. The animals had become the new norm over the last five years and he thought of his friend, missing Feldspur.

“What type of animals?” Dorothy was thinking perhaps a fox or wolf. Boq’s reply of lions, tigers, and bears surprised her. “Oh… my,” she swallowed.

The Animals vs. the animals. Fiyero repeated what Boq had informed them to stay in the conversation, however, his mind was drifting once more.

Since he died and came back as a scarecrow, Fiyero had a hard time concentrating when memories or emotions flooded him. Right now, thinking on his first days at Shiz, meeting new friends, and the Animals, his mind went away again. Fiyero was missing Feldspur and remembered his chat with the Horse after he met his new friends at Shiz.

~~~~

Day one went better than he expected, even if it ended rather abrupt on the date front. They all seemed to love him, followed him in dance, and Fiyero was having a great time kissing and flirting with the prettiest underclassman. She seemed nice enough, this Galinda, and he played off her wants. Some unspoken rules they both recognized in each other but never stated. It’s not like I’m going to be here past Yule Day, he thought to himself, undressing in his new room and changing into his night clothes. Zackiry was his assigned roommate and didn’t mind sharing his room with the Winkie Prince. While they spoke only a few words, like everyone else, Fiyero won him over. Well, almost everyone.

He smirked, thinking of the green girl he met the night before, who completely dismissed him last night and was in the library today. He was impressed by her at the Ozdust and then felt bad for her when Galinda shared what struck him as forced loneliness. To each their own, he thought minutes before Galinda’s kindness extended to the green girl. The solo dance turned into a duet, and then everyone joined, including him. Fiyero was having fun as someone else led the crowd for a change, but felt abandoned when both his date and the green girl left without a word.

Like most things, he shrugged it off and went with the flow. In hindsight, it was rather nice to get to know the other students who were willing players for his antics.

There was something incredibly strong about the green girl. Fiyero admired how she seemed to do whatever she wanted as living like that was only a fantasy for him. That was a freedom he’d never known.

When Galinda explained to him that the green girl cared a lot, but refused to show it, Fiyero felt for her. He studied her as she danced solo, and that dance hit him deep in a way he didn’t want to feel. He came here tonight to fit in. To be surrounded by students who liked him. Not to be reminded that everything about him was a fabrication and ruse.

Yet here was this very obvious green girl who couldn’t hide and, more importantly in his mind, refused to hide. He felt bad, not for her, although he could empathize because, as he was coming back to find Galinda, he overheard people making fun of someone. Fiyero hated it when people did that.

When the night ended, he headed back by helping the girl in the chair and the boy who had been smitten by Galinda. Nessa and Boq. Nessa had eyes for Boq, and Boq had eyes for Galinda, and Galinda had eyes for him. Naturally. Only Galinda had left with Nessa’s sister. Elphaba, the green girl. It was humorous to follow and enough to make his head spin.

Not looking forward to attending classes the next day, Fiyero knew he’d see Galinda again. He enjoyed feeling wanted and hoped she’d continue to throw herself at him. It did wonders for his ego.

After classes ended and he spent some time around Galinda, Fiyero went for a ride with Feldspur to let him know how everything was going. “I have news.” His voice was proud and happy.

“Please don’t say you have a girlfriend already,” Feldspur snorted.

“How did you guess that?”

The Horse chuckled, “Whenever you secure a girlfriend, you always say ‘I have news’.”

“I do not,” Fiyero protested. Feldspur gave him a list of names and their corresponding schools. The Horse even remembered Fiyero’s introduction stories about each girl, as he shared them. Fiyero conceded. “Okay, so maybe I do.”

“These students don’t know you yet, but for me, you’re quite predictable.”

“Hmm,” was all Fiyero gave.

“Why don’t you tell me about her?”

“What do you want to know?”

“For starters, her name. What is she like? How do you think she’ll react once you leave?”

Not missing a beat, Fiyero shared, “Her name is Galinda Upland. Of the northern Uplands.” Why that was important, Fiyero didn’t ask, but it was important to Galinda, seeing as how she emphasized it. “She apparently likes pink.”

“A delicate color on the right girl.”

“Yes, it is very lovely.” Fiyero grinned. “She doesn’t seem the brightest scholastically, but she has all the right upbringings. Manners. Society. Wealth.”

A snort, Feldspur shook his head, “Fiyero Tigelaar.” The scolding tone was present. “Do you hear yourself?”

“What?” Fiyero raised a brow, even though Feldspur couldn’t see it.

“You know what.”

“And you know how and why I choose as I do,” he defended back. Feldspur rolled his eyes and snorted again. “Come now, this isn’t anything new.” When Feldspur said nothing more, Fiyero frowned. “Fine. She’s witty in other areas and has a kind heart.” When Feldspur still refused to talk to him, Fiyero pushed, “And she’s wonderful to look at, not to mention a good kisser.”

“Young prince!” The Horse stopped and turned his head.

“Yes?” Fiyero found himself happy with the reaction.

“Do you ever think about how these girls feel when you’re kicked out?”

“I don’t know. Probably sad?” The Horse sighed, frustrated. “She’ll be fine, Feldspur. Trust me. They aren’t interested in me anyway, you know that.”

“I don’t like it when you talk this way.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m only here for a short time. Don’t spoil the only fun I’m allowed.”

As he picked up the pace, Feldspur sighed. “You like this one?”

“So far, after one day, she seems to get how to play the game better than most.” When silence was his answer, Fiyero patted the Horse’s neck. “She’ll be fine. They always end up fine.”

“I wish you’d think more about this game you play.”

“Feldspur,” Fiyero was quick to point out. “You know I don’t think.” The Horse rolled his eyes and bucked a little, giving Fiyero a jolt. “Oh come now, so far it’s a good start to the school year.”

“Half of the first semester is already over.”

“Like I said, a great start.” Fiyero laughed. The Horse switched the topic to one his prince liked and the two of them enjoyed the rest of the run until it was time to head back for dinner. He dismounted and took the riding equipment off Feldspur.

Fiyero patted his friend’s neck. “Remember,” Fiyero teased. “Brainless life, painless strife.”

“Go on with yourself and eat.” That boy, he thought to himself. “Have a good night and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Feldspur. Sweet hay-filled dreams.”

“Hmph,” Feldspur tried not to chuckle as he watched the boy go. This joyride from school to school can’t last forever. It will catch up with him one of these days. Feldspur only hoped Fiyero would see it for himself sooner rather than later. With dinner on his mind, he helped himself to the awaiting hay and trough.

So far, Feldspur was enjoying the start of their brief stay at Shiz.

~~~~

Dorothy all but jumped, clutching Fiyero’s entire jacket, front and back, not just the side. This sudden action coupled with the Tin Man’s “Stay back!” brought the Scarecrow back to the present. Boq stepped forward to protect the strawman and the child, with his axe at the ready.

A roaring snarl shook the air, followed by Dorothy’s scream. The shock caught the Scarecrow by surprise, stumbling over both Dorothy and Toto, who were on his feet. Training said to stand up, prepare, and face the enemy, however gravity and his inability to stay upright when tripped caused Fiyero to fall hard. Lying defenseless on his back, the Scarecrow instinctively raised his arms to protect his throat upon hearing another growl.

Dorothy screamed again, which drew Fiyero's attention to the fight between the Tin Man and a full-grown Lion.

A tail lashed and claws shot out, causing the Tin Man to swing his axe wildly. Fiyero watched and wondered if Boq had any formal training with weapons. It was haphazard at best, but enough to keep the Lion from advancing. The Lion snarled and swore at the Tin Man, who stepped back.

Before Fiyero could give warning or move his legs, Boq stepped right on him and while straw crunched and inner wooden frames snapped in half, the imbalance was enough to force the Tin Man to lose his footing too. Both of Dorothy’s companions suffered the same fate and were belly up.

Growling, laughing, and insulting both of the fallen males, the Lion bragged about his abilities and tried to goad them into continuing the fight.

Fiyero pulled his legs forward, wanting to get up and do what little he could to protect Dorothy, but Boq had messed up his leg structures in a way that he couldn’t get working. Feeling weak and helpless was another new discovery for Fiyero and he immediately filed that away too. His soldier’s clarity locked in as Dorothy ran over to Toto, the Lion’s new target. All three disappeared behind the trees.

Needing to get mobile again, Fiyero yanked his legs forward and felt around to identify which parts were broken. Desperate, he grabbed at fallen branches, still with some leaves, that decorated the yellow brick road and shoved them up and in from the top of his boots. At first, nothing happened.

His ears registered Dorothy’s shrieks and the Lion’s snarls, and Fiyero worked faster. Arranging and rearranging, until that familiar sensation struck just as he looked up to see Dorothy scoop up Toto and slap the Lion across the snout. The kid’s got balls. The thought flashed as Fiyero was witness to the Lion and Dorothy, and the former bawled.

What the hell?

The Tin Man was already on his feet nearby when the Scarecrow took hold of Boq’s lower arm and pulled himself upward. Unstable, he wobbled but grabbed Boq’s upper arm and chest as he climbed. Half bent, listening to Dorothy’s anger and adrenaline chew out the Lion who was blubbering like a kitten.

Toto’s entire body tensed and was on high alert, ready to leap and snap at the Lion too by the looks of it. Both Dorothy and Toto showed a fierce sense of survival that the Scarecrow hadn’t seen before. Impressive.

The Lion whimpered at them and gave a half-apology as he cried, half hiding and cowering with his paws lifting off one eye to the other to keep some eye contact. Dorothy, her adrenaline rushing, finished chewing him out and called him a coward.

The Scarecrow’s face held nothing but empathy and inside his non-existent brain, Fiyero was trying to figure something out. A talking Lion. An actual Lion. A full-grown Animal. Talking. The Lion didn’t even seem to understand how dangerous that was. His eyes darted around and while he and his guards didn’t scout out every inch of Oz, Fiyero knew a lot of the terrain. Had been there firsthand. Where are we? As Dorothy and the Lion talked about the Animal's life fears, the Scarecrow was running through strategic paths thanks to this dense forest.

Holy…, Fiyero’s eyes widened, Are we…? There wasn’t a yellow brick road last time he came through here and had this Lion not been alone and scared, Fiyero wouldn’t even have recognized him. Wow. What would Elphaba say if she knew he was still alive? What would Elphaba say if she knew he was still so scared?

It was heartbreaking, and he couldn’t help but think of Feldspur needing to hide as a horse. Everything is messed up.

Where are the Animals I left him with? That was the last thought Fiyero had before brilliance struck.

A new idea hit him so hard, he shocked himself. His idea was good, so good. The Scarecrow tapped Dorothy’s shoulder and asked, “Don’t you think the Wizard could help him, too?”

Fiyero, you’re a genius. Brilliant. A talking Animal of a Lion. The Tin Man. A lost girl from Kansas who is the target of the Wicked Witch of the West. Fiyero couldn’t have conjured up a better cover to drag any attention away from himself. Boq was shiny and all silver. Dorothy wasn’t from Oz and anyone she met saw her as a curiosity. And the talking Lion… He was pure gold to take the focus away from any of them.

No sooner had he suggested it, doubt crept in. What if they want to cage him? What if they want to imprison the Lion? By Vinkus, Fiyero, what did you just suggest? Too late to take it back, Dorothy loved the idea and invited the Lion right away and the Tin Man nodded too. The Lion whimpered he might embarrass them because he was such a coward and Fiyero tried to grab onto that thought. They won’t see him as a threat, like Doctor Dillamond. He’s too scared. He’s too… Fiyero couldn’t think of anything else to give himself reprieve.

There weren’t enough excuses for what he had just done. For the past five years, Fiyero had been giving his time and life to protecting Animals and keeping them away from danger. Fiyero saved the Animals.

With each step closer to the Emerald City and the Wizard of Oz, Fiyero became more nervous. He may have accidentally sentenced the Lion to his death. 

Chapter Text

The Lion and the Tin Man could make decent time and Dorothy and the Scarecrow did their best to keep up with them. Fiyero often felt like he was holding them back and he did his best to push his straw form as much as he could.

By evening, Fiyero was exhausted and flopped down, leaning into another tree. Tired, he didn’t wait for Dorothy to join him, nor did he wait for Boq to offer to take guard. The Lion came over and curl up against Fiyero’s legs and the strawman leaned forward, not thinking, and pet the Lion as if he were Toto. The Lion didn’t seem to mind.

Dorothy settled in next to the Scarecrow, and Toto climbed into his lap. The little dog pushed against both Dorothy and Fiyero before settling his muzzle on his paws.

In watching them, Boq smiled, “Aren’t you all cozy for the night?”

The Scarecrow nodded. “It’s been a long day.” Fiyero wasn’t able to entertain or stay awake for much longer.

“I’ll keep watch, Scarecrow.” From Boq’s point of view, it looked like his pushing the group to go faster today wore the simpleton out. “Why don’t you go ahead and…”

Boq smiled and realized he didn’t even have to say it.

The Scarecrow was fast asleep.

Fiyero was not without dreams and perhaps in hearing Boq talk to him as he fell hard into slumberland, Fiyero’s subconscious reminded him of his first week at Shiz - and later times with Glinda and Elphaba.

~~~~

Fiyero’s first week went well. He turned in half of the homework assignments and tried to influence his new friends to join him in dancing instead of studying. Instead, Galinda and her roommate invited him to join their study group, and he quickly got the impression that it was more Galinda’s doing than anything else. The green girl still looked at Fiyero as if he were beneath her and that made his game here more fun. He liked a challenge and getting Elphaba to talk to him was interesting. Fiyero kept his promise to Feldspur and was never mean or rude. It wasn’t his way. He picked topics that got people talking and watching the group interact was entertaining for him.

Galinda doted on him, and Elphaba tolerated him. It was a fun dynamic to Fiyero, and in the back of his notebook, he marked their actions. So far Galinda was leading with twenty dotes to Elphaba’s fourteen eye-rolls. His favorite eye-rolls were the ones that ended with her staring at him like he was the dumbest person in all of Oz. I’m doing such a good job. It’s insane.

He kept another page that marked how many times he caught Boq throwing himself at Galinda, and how many times Nessa tried to get Boq’s attention. This race was a little closer, with Boq in the lead with twenty-nine and Nessa trying to take over at twenty-eight.

For fun, Fiyero also counted how many times Galinda mentioned Dr. Dillamond saying her name wrong, but he stopped at nine. He mistakenly told Feldspur about the lists and Feldspur got a little heated over the disrespect shown towards Dr. Dillamond. Fiyero immediately reassured Feldspur that the list wasn’t meant to disrespect Dillamond. Fiyero liked and respected Dillamond. The professor was one of his favorites, and the list was really an observation on Galinda.

That didn’t matter to Feldspur, so Fiyero apologized and stopped the counting. He remembered the talks back home, and that there was a genuine issue brewing on the treatment of Animals. He and Feldspur talked quite a bit on the subject.

To make up for his childish behavior, the next day Fiyero brought a bowl of raisins, sliced apples, carrots, sugar cubes, and bananas for Feldspur. Again, he apologized to the Horse, and they sat talking for hours about the politics around the rumors and how even an innocent joke, albeit private, could shape mindsets. A good student to Feldspur, Fiyero drew some solid conclusions and Feldspur was proud of the boy.

That was the same day Fiyero caught Elphaba trying to toss her hair in the same manner as Galinda. He recognized the move right away and couldn’t help but chuckle at what he saw. There didn’t need to be two Galinda’s at Shiz and he told Elphaba as much and he told her to just be herself. Fiyero expected her to ignore his words, but she seemed to appreciate what he said, or maybe was just relieved to hear someone say it. Together they walked and talked on the way to class and it was a pleasant change.

Fiyero was glad his girlfriend and her roommate got along so well. He heard stories about how they both acted towards each other before he arrived at Shiz and he learned Galinda allowed herself to be goaded into teasing Elphaba with the hat. He understood better Galinda’s actions that first night at the Ozdust and while Fiyero didn’t like to hear of a plan to make fun of Elphaba, he was glad they reconciled.

They were great friends now, and it was nice to see. Fiyero didn’t like it when people excluded others and he wasn’t a fan of bullies. He had his rules he played by, but not at the expense of others.

Feldspur was good at debating this moral boundary with Fiyero, and Fiyero countered with the fact he never sought his girlfriends. They picked him and, if it worked out, he went along with it. It was the one area where Fiyero might feel guilty if he allowed himself to think about it.

Weeks turned into months and Fiyero wondered how long it would be before Shiz started the process to kick him out. He was failing two classes, and owed homework in four, but was getting a solid A in Dr. Dillamond’s class. Fiyero enjoyed the class, and he felt he owed it to Dr. Dillamond. To Feldspur.

Maybe that was why Shiz was still putting up with him. He didn’t share his history grades with his friends and let them think he was doing poorly in that class, too. But, he also mentioned several times it was his favorite class, much to Galinda’s dislike. She had semi-gotten over how her name was mispronounced, mostly because Elphaba and Fiyero came to Dr. Dillamond’s defense when she continued to bring it up. They even had Nessa and Boq joining in occasionally. Fiyero hadn’t heard the name topic in weeks and had long torn out the back pages of his notebook after his initial talk with Feldspur.

Today, however, the name subject came to life and had a new spin on it, with Galinda wanting to give their professor a fun sort of nickname. It’s not half bad, really. Respectful.

Amused, Fiyero listened as Elphaba and Galinda debated. This was to be the last normal start to a school day for Fiyero. Little did he know that the games he played would meet an abrupt end and he wouldn’t be the only one affected by events others had put into motion.

Their first class of the day started out normal, with Elphaba bringing flowers for Dr. Dillamond. Both Fiyero and Galinda found it to be a very thoughtful gesture, but the subject switched and turned into the resurrection of the great name debate. Smartly, Fiyero stayed out of it wherever his girlfriend and her roommate began these talks. He walked with them to their seats and when Dillamond entered, Fiyero smiled and waited to see their professor’s joyful expression when Elphaba gave her a gift of poppies. Instead, Dr. Dillamond rejected the gift and sharply told her to take her seat. Very unlike the professor. Dr. Dillamond addressed the class, pointed, and announced it was his last day of teaching. Fiyero froze and just stared. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. As if there were ears in the walls, Ozian guards burst in along with Miss Coddle and she was talking over Dr. Dillamond and Dillamond was getting louder. That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Hey!” Fiyero stood, clenching his fists, when the guards started manhandling Dr. Dillamond and dragged him out of their classroom. Their professor was being yanked out by his horns and given what little Fiyero knew of goat parts, he could only guess that hurt. He had tugged on Feldspur’s tail enough when he was younger to know. Feldspur. Fiyero couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend and what his parents talked about in the dining room. He first heard of it a couple of years ago. He half paid attention to them most of the time over dinner, hating politics and the real-life game of chess his father played. The political agenda against Animals was one of the few subjects he grew a genuine interest in. Standing there stunned, in Dr. Dillamond’s history classroom, those conversations flooded him. Fiyero specifically remembered the first one:

~~~~~~~~~~

“Baxiana,” his father’s deep voice was worried. “Another scout reported the rumblings of what is happening in hushed conversations around Oz.”

“Please tell me this nightmare subject is waning,” Fiyero’s mother gasped. Whenever they got heavy into politics, which was most of the time, Fiyero lowered his gaze even more into his meal. The fork and blue clothed napkin often being his focal point, as if Fiyero expected them to do a trick.

“No. I fear it is not.” His father looked to his son and called his name. The wayward boy was off in his own fantasyland again. After two more failed attempts, his large hand came slamming down against the thick wood table. “Fiyero!”

“What?” Fiyero’s chin jerked upward, wide-eyed, and almost looked scared because his father yelled.

“Get your head out of the clouds and be present for this conversation. It concerns all of Winkie Country and you will need to understand it to protect our people!”

A glance at his mother, Fiyero often judged how much trouble he was in by her agreement or disagreement with his father. Her face was a scowl, which was not good. “Please, Fiyero,” she took to scolding him too. “Listen and listen well. This affects more than just our land. A good number of our citizens could become in grave danger.”

Fiyero stared from his mother to his father, back to his mother. Trying to catch up. His mother saw the lost expression and reeled him in. “This could hit as close to home as Feldspur, dear.”

Still not with them, Fiyero took great offense to anyone harming his best friend. “Feldspur? What do you mean?”

“See?” His father’s voice filled the room and shook his head. “He doesn’t pay attention. You filled his head with storybooks as a child instead of duty and he’s going to be a dreamer for a leader.”

“Marillot!” Baxiana shot off to her husband. “That’s enough! He’s young and his every day includes studies on leading.”

“He’s almost old enough to start university. In another time, he would have been married by now!”

With a swallow, Fiyero looked at both his parents and then took hold of the napkin tightly in his fingers. He tried to block them out. Tried to make himself go numb, but his heart tugged and his mouth betrayed him. “What about Feldspur?”

Not letting her husband have another go at their son, Baxiana soothed, “Fiyero. The talk in the land is that Animals are being considered not as important as citizens. The claim is they have reason to withhold resources, allocated for humans only, and keep them away from Animals.”

The talk of politics outweighed his irritation at the boy’s behavior. Marillot added, “There are rumblings stemming in different parts of Oz that they want to re-assess all creatures’ rights. A sort of hierarchy, you could say.” Fiyero knew what that could mean. He had read all the books in the great library of the Drought War and Lemurical Wars. Citizens allocated food, water, and materials for their homes and living based on their wealth. Based on a system that was determined by people closer to Central Oz. Their people lived mostly off the land and all citizens of Winkie Country worked to support, ask, and give. The land demanded it.

“If Animals are determined to be unimportant citizens, what would happen to them?”

His mother and father shared horrific tales of potential outcomes. His father brought out maps and spread them on the table after dinner. The staff came in, joined the conversation, and Fiyero listened to the adult humans and Animals alike express their worries and concerns. “We can’t let this happen, my son.” His father laid a gentle hand on Fiyero’s shoulder. “We must do what we can to protect all our citizens. Our friends.” Fiyero nodded and stood near his father, looking over the maps.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Listen to me! You’re not being told the whole story!”

Everything was happening so fast. Students were gasping. Miss Coddle was telling them to stay calm. No need to be alarmed. From those dinner conversations back in Winkie Country, Fiyero knew when people told you there was no cause for alarm against something so outwardly violent, there more than likely was a cause to be alarmed. His eyes round, he watched as Elphaba rushed to pick up Dr. Dillamond’s glasses that had fallen off during the man-handling. She was saying something sharp to Miss Coddle, and he watched a guard confront Elphaba. He heard Galinda squeak and felt her hand go to his chest in shock. Fiyero was used to her doing that and found his arm habitually going around her protectively; his focus on the scene before him. His mind was racing, trying to put together those talks that started years ago with the chaos he witnessed.

Fiyero recalled his father saying he was proud of him that night they first discussed the Animals. His father clapped him on the back, saying Fiyero was stepping up by first understanding that some wars weren’t won with muskets and rifles. Some were sneaky, political moves done through words, agreements, and secret alliances.

Fiyero stood shocked in the classroom before he slowly sank back into his seat, his arm casually resting near Galinda, as Elphaba came back around to sit.

Elphaba had voiced her concern to the class, "Are we all just going to sit here in silence?"

Everyone ignored Elphaba but Miss Coddle, who urged her to take her seat. Fiyero had said nothing and offered only stupid silence, even when his mind was racing. He was trying to figure out the political intentions of this public move. They had planned this somehow, he was sure of it. Guards from Oz just burst in.

Cursing inwardly, Fiyero should have protested. He should have said something to protect the Animal citizens because they just arrested Dr. Dillamond and how soon would it be before Feldspur’s rights were gone? At least Fiyero should have said something when Elphaba asked the class. Surely he wasn’t the only other one who wanted to speak up when Galinda’s roommate pleaded for help. Maybe had he said something, being the prince, others would have rallied to be heard too.

Instead, all Fiyero had to show for this injustice to Animals was sitting on his arse. He would have to face Feldspur later and admit that all he had done was... nothing.

Some future leader in Winkie Country.

A new professor interrupted whatever thoughts might have plagued Fiyero next. The Ozian professor addressed them so dry and unfeeling about what had just taken place that even Fiyero couldn’t help but make an annoyed scoff. Fiyero’s focus was on the recent past of the classroom, while this politician-type professor spoke about the future. What grabbed Fiyero’s attention was when the draped cart was revealed and a newborn Animal was trapped inside. A cage, the man said.

Not missing a beat, Elphaba was all over the new professor, defending the poor Animal. The Lion cub. Then the Oz professor said a benefit would be animals would never learn to speak and Fiyero felt gut-punched. All he could think of was Feldspur and his parents’ warning.

“What are we going to do?” Desperate, Elphaba asked this of her two friends. Still in his own head, the strategic game of chess playing out, Fiyero sputtered, “Sorry? ‘We’?” His eyes were round, the guilt weighing heavily on him.

Angry, Elphaba snapped, “Well, someone’s got to do something!” Elphaba slammed her flowers down, yet in the next moment, the poppies rose in the air all by themselves. One by one, bodies slumped as everyone was falling asleep.

Everyone but Fiyero and Elphaba.

Fiyero looked at Elphaba, and she looked angry, but shocked. She did this somehow. Galinda had told him about what he missed on the first day of school and other events. Unsure how or why, Fiyero knew Elphaba had done this, and when he realized the Oz professor and guards were slumping over, he saw a way to fix a mistake. He was quick with his words to Elphaba, and then he was on the move. Not wasting a second, Fiyero ran to the cage, took out the sleeping cub, and tucked it into his jacket. Urging Elphaba to follow. They rushed out of the classroom, across campus, and borrowed some bikes at the entrance to Shiz.

She seemed to understand what they were doing and led the way away from Shiz, away from the Oz professor and guards. They didn’t talk and just kept peddling. Fiyero stayed behind her, while looking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed.

A good quarter and a half of an hour went by before Elphaba slowed and they parked the bikes. Fiyero took the cub again and together they set off the rest of the journey on foot, the terrain too rough for bike riding. Coming to a semi open clearing, they took in their surroundings and circled. Now, which way do we go?

“So... we could go this way.” He was holding the sleepy cub carefully, the Lion still partly in his coat so no one should see. Sneaking around the castle, the school, or outside the school grounds was natural to him. In looking around the forest, he pointed to suggest, “Or we could go this way.”

“Don’t squeeze him.”

Defensively, Fiyero corrected her. “I’m not.” The cub stretched and the move so delicate, his voice became almost paternal. “Ooh,” a note Elphaba had never heard from him before. “I think he’s waking up.”

Keeping her composure, Elphaba instructed, “We can’t just let him loose anywhere. We’ve got to find someplace safe.”

Annoyed, Fiyero looked at her, “Yeah. I realize that.” She didn’t acknowledge him as she looked around for some place better than his suggestions. Unable to explain why, her dismissal of him annoyed Fiyero. “You think I’m really stupid, don’t you?”

“No, not really stupid.”

It was easy to pick up her meaning through that tone. Frustrated, Fiyero frowned, Great. She thinks I’m 100% stupid. He sighed. I wonder who gave her that idea. There was little he could say to that, and his attention went elsewhere when he felt more movement. Oh, yes. He’s waking up alright. Trying to turn the little Animal around, Fiyero met its eyes, and the Cat got scared. Meowing, it tried to get away, flailing its paws and scratching at the human who held it. Not realizing he was under a war of needle-thin claws, Fiyero yelped, “Ahh, oh.”

Elphaba looked to see Fiyero stumbling backwards, tripping, and falling on his princely arse. “Oh...” she watched him as he sat there stunned and moved to help him. “Dear.”

“Ohm,” Fiyero tried to stand, but she was in the way, hovering over him, trying to assist and hold the Animal. He almost fell again.

“All right, um.” Elphaba tried to take the cub from him, as the Lion was still squirming. I already told him to stop squeezing the poor Cat. Fiyero was trying to maintain his hold, and kept gasping aloud as the cub fought him. “Just. Can.” Fiyero clearly did not know what he was doing and tried to fight to gain his balance, which was preventing her from helping. “Can you stop!”

“He’s wriggling.” Fiyero protested.

Annoyed, Elphaba corrected him, “He’s wriggling because...”

At the same time as her, Fiyero defended himself and talked over her. “He’s a wriggler.”

Elphaba’s volume increased. “...because you’re holding him in the wrong way.”

He went to argue again, and Elphaba had enough. “Stay still!” Fiyero froze per her order and looked right at Elphaba, exhaling one last time. She looked at him and saw his frozen position. “Breath,” she instructed, and he did.

“Thank you,” her sarcastic reply came and then Elphaba moved in to take the cub, gently caressing the Lion to soothe him. “Jst,” almost a word, her attention all on the Lion. “There,” she nuzzled the little face, and the cub settled. “It’s okay,” she encouraged, continuing to be kind to it. “It’s okay.”

Fiyero stood quietly, no longer fumbling around, amazed at the cub’s response, and curiously watched the two interact. Elphaba’s voice was no longer the typical defensiveness he had grown accustomed to. She was almost, dare he say, tender?

“All right, little guy.” She gently took hold of the cub and took him to her chest. “All right,” she encouraged. “Come on, little guy. Come on.” The small Cat stilled. “There.”

The cub started purring and reached out to sniff Fiyero’s hand. Fiyero couldn’t help but to be moved by the cub. By Elphaba. His gaze went from the Animal to her face. What he just witnessed hooked into him and Fiyero didn’t know what to think.

When Elphaba looked to see Fiyero staring at her like that, her demeanor changed. Fiyero wasn’t the cub she was trying to soothe. “See?” She asked pointedly, her voice changing back to that superior sound. He was about to debate again, but Elphaba immediately walked away from Fiyero, and she took the cub to a nearby pond. Petting the fur, she smirked, “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Standing there, abandoned in a way, Fiyero let out a silent chuckle and watched her. Thanks, he thought to himself, you only have to be afraid of the other guy. He wondered if she had any idea how she sounded sometimes and despite himself, Fiyero’s smile grew. He wiped the dirt off his pants from the fall.

Kneeling by the pond, Elphaba stroked the little Cat as he freely drank and Fiyero removed his Shiz jacket to dust it off. He tossed it in the foliage before turning to them both. Rolling up a sleeve, he asked, “Why is it you’re always causing some sort of commotion?”

Looking up, straight out into the forest ahead of her, Elphaba corrected, “I don’t cause commotions. I am one.” She smirked a little, because he couldn’t see her face and because he didn’t know how she often she heard that from her father.

“Yeah,” he was quick to agree, messing with the other arm. “Well, that’s for sure.”

His focus on his sleeve, Fiyero became surprised when she bit back, “So, you think I should just keep my mouth shut?” Her volume rose. “Is that what you’re saying?”

Confused, Fiyero started, “What? No.” When did I say that? “No. I’m saying...”

He didn’t get far because Elphaba turned towards him. Fiyero heard that defensive tone he had become accustomed to with all things Elphaba. “You think I want to be this way?”

Her voice was sharp, and he stumbled, “I.” Again, she was verbally all over him.

“You think I want to care this much?”

Now Elphaba physically came at Fiyero, with an aggressive force behind her eyes. It was surprising to him, to say the least. “No, I mean,” Fiyero got no further because her words were sharp, cutting him off once more.

“I know that my life would be much easier if I didn’t care, but...”

By the heavens. Fiyero had enough, “Do you ever let anyone else talk?” Forceful, he threw it out there, letting her know what it felt like to be dismissed and cut off.

Almost stunned, Elphaba realized what she was doing and fell silent. She had been having a go at him as if she were talking to her father. “Sorry,” she apologized, not meaning to be rude.

Surprised she actually went quiet, with an apology to boot, Fiyero tried again, “I was just...” Elphaba obviously remembered something because she stopped him yet again.

“But can I just say one more thing?”

Fiyero thought he had her for a moment; just for a moment, he thought he could speak. Wrong. Fiyero looked at her, astonished, as she continued to insist on talking over him. He was about to toss his hands up in frustration but didn’t want to set her off more, so quickly rubbed his eyes, settling his hands on his waist. Looks like she’s going to say her piece, regardless. He looked at her expectantly, giving up and giving her the floor.

“You could have walked away back there,” she pointed out, and Fiyero didn’t like the turn of focus on himself. His jaw tensed and he kept his composure as best he could.

When she said nothing more, he shrugged his shoulders and remained rooted in his stance. “So?”

“So,” Elphaba needed him to see, “No matter how shallow or self-absorbed you pretend to be...”

Oh, no. He cut her off, quick, “Uh, excuse me.” Fiyero turned on that swarm and swagger that came so easily. “There is no pretense here.” He smiled coyly. “I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.” No way was she getting anywhere near him with this talk and he stepped forward, invading her space to prove his resolve.

Elphaba had never bought into his smoldering looks, coy phrases, or charisma. He tried it the first night they met, and it didn’t work. He tried it with that dumb wave in the library the next day before he organized a dance party. She saw it ad nauseam every day since, but he smartly didn’t try it with her anymore.

Enough of this, she thought to herself and went for it. “Oh, please.” Surely Fiyero knew she wasn’t as stupid as everyone else, who threw themselves at his feet from day one. As stupid as he, perhaps, pretended to be. She saw his confidence waiver. “No, you’re not.” He was listening, really listening, and Elphaba struck hard, “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so unhappy.”

For a second, she saw it. His eyes flicker with being told the truth. Like he was deciding to keep up the show or admit to his unhappiness.

She had seen it: In class. With Galinda. Fiyero possibly found his life and his world boring and because of that, ‘happy’ was not a word she associated with him.

At being called ‘unhappy’, Fiyero just stared at her. Chuckled only once by default and it fell flat. The hands on his waist frozen in place and the words he normally would spout off died in his throat. Fiyero felt his body go numb, as it often did, and he stood there. Watching her watch him. Locked in each other’s gaze in this non-verbal stand-off. She wasn’t backing down, and it was his turn to go the next round.

Only he didn’t. Fiyero didn’t know why, but he didn’t. He didn’t walk away. He didn’t retort and debate. His instincts were screaming at him to cover it up with the usual settings, phrases, and lies. He went to speak to some of them but nothing came out.

Fiyero knew she was right and not only did he know she was right, she knew it too. To tell her otherwise would be to insult her intelligence, and if he was honest with himself, his own.

A nod, one quick nod, was all he could offer. “Fine.”

Elphaba could not believe he gave in, that he admitted it. In her eyes, he earned some of her respect for that. First with the classroom rescue and now this. Fiyero continued to stare at her in disbelief and she then realized his stare turned into his discomfort, because Fiyero turned. His next words tracked, “If you don’t want my help...”

She didn’t cut him off this time, at least not verbally. Seeing his vulnerability captivated her as they stood silently opposed. Elphaba wasn’t ready for him to shield himself back up in the cloak of a fool, so she grabbed his hand to stop him as he walked away. “No, I do.”

Holding his hand, not letting him escape, Elphaba’s heart raced and she couldn’t move. Her breath held. She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Feeling. He just revealed himself to her, and she was not letting him hide.

Fiyero almost gasped this time when she grabbed him, and he felt the energy in her hand. The touch. He stopped his forward march and looked at her. She said she wanted his help, and she was cradling his hand so he wouldn’t run off. A grip he could have easily pulled out of, but he kept his hand there and turned to meet her eyes. Confused. Shocked. Unsure what to do because this was not part of the playbook.

Fiyero kept her gaze until Elphaba released his hand and that movement, as small as it was, was an odd rejection that had him looking down. Away. Fiyero said nothing as they stood there in silence. The cub mewed, an unwanted distraction, and he felt her attention go back to it. Disappointed, Fiyero’s hands returned to rest on his waist again. Deep in silent thought.

Elphaba went to the cub, kneeled, and stroked its fur. All her attention, tender attention, back on the cub left Fiyero conflicted. Full of uncertainty, Fiyero approached them both. He didn’t want to let go of whatever this was that just passed between him and Elphaba. What really started almost an hour ago.

Quiet, slow, and careful not to startle either of them, he knelt down next to her. His gaze went to the purring cub. However, Fiyero’s focus was on Elphaba. He had to ask, “What did you mean to do back there?” He couldn’t meet her eyes on this, and in case he wasn’t clear about the classroom, Fiyero added, “And why was I the only one you didn’t do it to?”

Elphaba glanced as he knelt, listening. Most of the time, she did things out of anger or high stress. That much she knew for as long as she could remember. Why hadn’t she put Fiyero to sleep too? He was Galinda’s boyfriend. Galinda wanted to marry Fiyero. Why had Elphaba spared him from the poppies?

She studied his profile for a while. His jawline. How vulnerable Fiyero looked in asking that question. Elphaba wondered why he even asked. Could it be important to him?

Not looking away, Elphaba admired the color of his blue eyes, moving her gaze to his hair. She blinked. Taking a page out of his book, she didn’t answer Fiyero and noticed what the Lion cub had done to him during their struggle. Elphaba focused on that. “You’re bleeding,” she softly pointed out.

That wasn’t the answer he wanted, but Fiyero didn’t exactly feel in a position to push for more. Not when he knew how much he eluded questions. “Am I?” He felt his brand of avoidance accepting hers and he half addressed her while he looked out over the small pool of water. Fiyero turned his head slightly towards her, as if to confirm she was staring. He honestly didn’t know the cub struck him and Fiyero continued to feel her gaze heavy on him. He was trying not to feel exposed or go numb.

“Mmhmm,” Elphaba confirmed and as Fiyero was stock still, kneeling next to her, she dared to reach out to him. That energy she felt earlier when she took his hand, calling her. Slow and careful, her fingers neared his face and stopped when she saw him almost flinch back.

A silent breath held by them both, and much like handling the cub, Elphaba patiently waited. Coaxing through calm. She continued to reach out, careful and slow towards Fiyero, and when her index finger stroked the side of his head, Fiyero accepted it and closed his eyes.

The silence between them was maddening, as Fiyero felt on fire at her touch. A wanted contact. Elphaba ran her finger down the minor wound and while Fiyero felt the slight sting of tender, exposed flesh, he felt warmth spreading. His chest was pounding.

“There,” she whispered and moved to touch him with her full hand as he met her eyes. Frozen where he knelt as they took one another in. “It must’ve scratched you.”

When she spoke, he wanted to nuzzle his head into her hand for more contact. Fiyero desired Elphaba’s gentle touch and kept her gaze. “Yeah,” Fiyero wasn’t paying attention to his words at all. He stayed with her, admiring her beautiful green eyes, full of care. He should pull away, not allowing her in like this, but he remained; craving her tender touch to his face, and muttered almost incoherently, “Or maybe it scratched me or something.” She continued to caress him and he couldn’t take his gaze off her. Why does Elphaba feel so good?

She must have found him funny because a single corner of her lip went up and he wanted to smile back. Fiyero wanted to get lost in those kind, intelligent, caring, and fierce green eyes. He glanced at her lips and... What are you doing? His inner voice alarmed and Fiyero almost shook.

Whatever movement he made, maybe Fiyero retreated, and that caused Elphaba to pull her hand back. Needing to recover, Fiyero blurted, “I better get to safety.”

By Vinkus, I did not just say that. “The cub,” he was quick to correct.

Putting her hand back in her lap, still looking at him, she nodded. “Mmhmm.”

Both confused and uncomfortable, they again talked over each other. “I better get the,” he cleared his throat, to her “of course.” Fiyero stammered, “the cub to safety.”

Again, she gave a single ‘mhmm’ as he leaned forward, carefully taking hold of the mewing little Lion.

He was quick to get to his boots, and Fiyero didn’t look back at her. He couldn’t glance back and Fiyero headed right into the foliage to leave Elphaba sitting there.

Fiyero picked up his pace and started half-running away, swearing he heard his name called from Elphaba, but it was probably in wishing. Anyway, too late. Fiyero declared himself on the move to ‘safety’ now and he would not go back. To go back meant he was going to touch Elphaba. Possibly kiss her. It went against every fiber of his being. If he could rely on one thing in his life, it was strategic avoidance.

He heard his footfalls as he jogged further and further away from the pond where he and Elphaba knelt together. Further and further away because running felt better than trying to understand what just happened. He went numb, forced his mind blank, and felt sick to his stomach as he ran. What in the name of Vinkus and all of Oz... what is going on today?

Chapter Text

Two hours into the new day, and the Scarecrow was already feeling it. Well, not feeling it. He felt no discomfort or pain, but he knew fatigue overcame him.

Tired.

Whatever power that felt the need to keep him alive in Oz also wanted to spare him from…

“Scarecrow?” Dorothy came over to him as they walked with the Tin Man and the Lion, Toto in her arms. 

“Hmm?”

“You looked like you went somewhere far away again.”

“Did I?” Fiyero couldn’t even remember what he had been thinking on. Just that he felt tired and slow in mind. 

“Yes. I asked if you could hold the basket for me, just for a minute, and you didn’t even stop. You kept walking.”

Boq was marching on ahead, with the Lion sauntering behind him. Dorothy kept pace with Fiyero. “I’m sorry.” The Scarecrow reached for the wicker basket, with its woven layers and pale tone. Is the basket made of straw? He did not know why that thought popped into his head, but it did. “Here. I’ll take it.”

Dorothy handed the basket to the Scarecrow and set Toto down. She began digging through the basket, trying to find something at the bottom. It was almost funny to Fiyero because the basket wasn’t that big to lose anything in it. 

She found what she was looking for and lifted out a small piece of chocolate. He remembered chocolate. Fiyero loved sneaking into the castle’s kitchen as a child and stealing eclairs to bring back into his bedroom. During waking hours, when eclairs were around, the staff was onto him and more often than not foiled his plans. He was always successful at night.

“When did you get that?” Fiyero didn’t remember a chocolate trade when they were at the farmer’s market.

“The farmer’s wife gave it to me the morning we left.”

“Oh,” Fiyero realized when that must have happened. When he first encountered the hallway mirror. “Do you want me to carry the basket for a while?”

Dorothy nodded and enjoyed the chocolate, and in the distance, Boq was motioning them to move it along. Fiyero and Dorothy shouldered on ahead.

----

The following days were like that. Boq and the Lion kept the pace brisk and pushed on. Fiyero and Dorothy were constantly trying to keep up. Every night, the Scarecrow sat upright to sleep against a tree, and every night he was out before the others could settle. 

For Fiyero, he couldn’t get enough rest. He constantly felt tired. It worried him, as his stumbles and falls were increasing. Outwardly, he kept the smiles and jokes going, as was his way, while inwardly he kept fighting to push away the insecurities of who he was. What he now had become: a man made of straw.

Of course, when they happened upon the poppy fields, every living thing got the chance to sleep. Except him. If the situation weren’t so dire, Fiyero would have welcomed lying down with Dorothy, Toto, and the Lion in the flowers. Poppies had become his favorites, after all.

Boq didn’t fall asleep. All non-living things stayed awake, and in the end, Fiyero’s heart ached, being the sole survivor moving amongst a poppy field. Blame was cast on Elphaba, and once more, Fiyero found himself unaffected by “evil magic”. In all fairness, it wasn’t just you this time. That did nothing to explain what had happened years ago with the Lion cub - the grown Lion before him snoozing - and why nothing affected him then or now. 

No longer special, Boq wasn’t affected either, and that’s why Fiyero’s brain decided on living vs. non-living. Whatever powers that be - “evil magic,” “good magic,” or “it just happened this way” - he was able to get the living things up and moving. The Emerald City glistened in the distance. 

Tired. Confused. Wanting to be more alert than he was, Fiyero walked the last yellow brick road path to Emerald City. The others were in awe, and that made sense because they had never seen it before. To the fresh eye, Emerald City was everything the Wizard wanted them to feel.

It was towering, beautiful, and as magical as the Wizard himself. 

Unless you worked for the Wizard for five years, living inside the city in the guardhouse, trying to stay under the radar while everyone around you plotted the capture and death of the woman you loved.

Inwardly, Fiyero cursed, and he felt his nonexistent heart race. His anxiety spiked upon seeing the Emerald City. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been here recently. He had. A week ago.

One week.

Maybe slightly over a week. 

Fiyero’s sense of time had been off once he ‘died and woke up’.

Seeing the illuminated buildings of the green and towering city, he felt his breathing hitch and his heart rate speed up. Again. He knew it was imaginary, as he looked down at the straw poking out of his wrists, but that didn’t help. Fiyero felt it, and for him it was real. 

With a deep breath, as if he were filling his lungs with air, Fiyero marched forward and kept up with Boq and the group. His anxiety drove him faster than normal until even the Lion commented on how the Scarecrow seemed ready to go.

Not ready to go. Trying to survive this show.

Allowed to enter the gates, Fiyero walked just behind both the Lion and the Tin Man. Dorothy looked out of place with her blue and white checkered dress, holding Toto the dog. The sun above shone and glistened off the Tin Man’s body. People turned their heads at the sight of the large Lion strolling in through the city without a care in the world, and Fiyero couldn’t help but remember that he might have sentenced the Lion to his death. 

Stop. Stop!

For as many years as Fiyero trained himself not to feel, to disassociate and not think, he was challenged, and could not turn it off. He was acutely aware of every passing Ozian guard. He shivered seeing a group of the Gale Force in the distance. There were so many signs here warning of the Wicked Witch of the West, and honoring Glinda the Good, and how wonderful the Wizard of Oz was. 

How did I ignore these for five years? He saw them so often that he didn’t pay attention.

Fiyero stopped and stood before a group of these posters on a bulletin board, and his heart sank. “Witch Lover” was written over a half-torn announcement, and shame washed over him for so many reasons as he stared at his formal self. The Captain of the Guard. A good-looking man in a Gale Force uniform, looking crisp, and strong, and standing proud. A swallow, Fiyero glanced down at his gloved hands and torn uniform. He knew if he turned his head, he could see his reflection in the church window, and he refused to look. He didn’t need to see the contrast. The irony of what became of the once Winkie Prince.

“Scarecrow?” Dorothy came up to him, gently took his elbow like she often did. “Are you okay?”

Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was looking at his dedicated promotion poster, Fiyero turned and nodded to her. He couldn’t form words, nor could he hide the horror in his eyes. Unable to say a word, the Scarecrow took hold of her hand and let Dorothy lead him back to their odd group. 

Where are you, Elphaba? 

Not for the first time in five years, he had pondered this question, but this was the first time he was truly scared for them both.

“What happened?” Boq asked the simpleton when he returned to the group. 

Before he could answer, Dorothy offered, “He hasn’t got a brain, and he stalls and stops sometimes.” She said it with all the kindness in her heart, “With friends like us, we can restart him and he’s as good as new.” 

With a nod, Fiyero forced a smile and squeezed her hand, needing a connection to someone, and from this group, Dorothy was as close to a best friend as he was going to get. Like the previous times before, he needed her.

The Tin Man accepted Dorothy’s answer and led them to the grand palace of the Wizard. The Lion was scared, as one would expect, but he was not alone. Putting on the bravest front, Fiyero could only hope and pray that no one would notice his uniform. That he would not blank out or use his Winkie voice. Above all, Fiyero prayed they did not run into Glinda, his old Gale Force squadron, or Laivario. He felt too tired and too rundown to fight off emotions or keep up a solid front. 

The last thing Fiyero needed was to blank out or, worse, have a panic attack triggered by seeing them. Much like he did with Elphaba after they found Boq. 

Elphaba…

He missed her. Fiyero missed her so much, and as he spent the last five years in the Emerald City as a spy, emotions and memories were rushing through him.

How did he pretend for five years? How did he stand at that altar and ready himself to get married? Why did he fail so miserably five years ago? He stood on the bridge when Morrible made the announcement, and hearing Elphaba painted as wicked shocked him as much as waking up as a scarecrow did. 

He wanted to find Elphaba as soon as his brain processed what was being said. 

Fiyero saw the dramatic green clouds illuminating the sky in dramatic flashes, and he needed to find Elphaba. 

Why couldn’t he find her? 

How did she get away?

He had Feldspur and headed straight to the Emerald City to track her. They were faster on hoof than Elphaba on foot, and he was an expert tracker. He spent days scouting, asking questions, feeling the dirt, and searching the forests. 

Fiyero Tigelaar from Winkie Country, of the Arjikis, was one of the best trackers in his region. They had trained him to be the best since birth. 

And he failed.

‘What ifs’ plagued Fiyero once more, and he was about to embark on an inward, downward spiral when he felt Dorothy’s touch on his elbow again. “Scarecrow?” Her voice was kind, like it always was, but there was a note of worry creeping in.

“Sorry,” his voice revealed his pain, and he looked away. 

“Are you okay?”

What came over him, Fiyero couldn’t say. “I’m exhausted.” Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either. 

“The guard said we could inquire at the palace about accommodations. It’s too late today to see the Wizard, but we may stay as a guest or find another inn for the night.”

“What’s going on?” Boq came clunking over. 

“He’s just tired, is all.” Dorothy gently encouraged the Scarecrow towards the others. “Do you think we might get rooms?” This question she asked of Boq.

“Probably. That’s what they instructed us to do. Between the Lion and the Scarecrow, Boq realized he was the strongest in their group. They were all looking to him to lead. “Let’s take care of finding rooms. The sooner we can get settled and cleaned up, perhaps with some food for the three of you, the better off we’ll be.” 

The four of them followed Boq, and Fiyero found himself in a reversed role: he was sticking to Dorothy’s side, holding her hand for comfort, and trying to disappear. Guards were everywhere. The color green was everywhere. Elphaba’s wanted posters were everywhere. 

How did he ignore all this, practically emotionless, over a week ago? For five years?

Fiyero truly couldn’t understand how he had done it. 

An hour later found the four in their rooms in the Wizard’s Palace, with a time tomorrow morning to meet with the Wizard. Dorothy and Toto went off with plans to meet the Lion and Tin Man for dinner. The Scarecrow excused himself for the night, trusting Boq to keep watch over Dorothy. 

Tentatively, he entered his room. Emerald green, everywhere you looked. Emerald green, like the Wizard loved. Emerald green, like Elphaba. The floors were emerald stone, shiny, and the different parts of the inner room had pillars of the same stone. 

His room contained floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the inner plaza of Emerald City. Fiyero felt exposed. Spy. Impostor. Traitor. He saw his reflection in the buildings with the sun setting behind them. He could see his outline from hat to boot, and Fiyero moved to his right, heading down a small hallway to escape.

When he entered the small room, he turned on the light and Fiyero froze still.

He entered the bathroom and was now staring at the wall-wide mirror. 

Fiyero was staring at a stranger.

The wheat hair.

Brown nose. 

Burlap face.

His beaten-down and torn guard uniform…

Gloved hands.

The hat.

Fiyero didn’t mean to, but he stepped forward into the counter and leaned towards the mirror. His breath hitched as he realized even his Winkie blue eyes were not the same. Yellow-gloved fingers lifted as if he might touch his face or pull back the burlap, but he hesitated… until he didn’t.

He gritted his teeth and pulled down on the burlap near his eyes, seeing a stranger’s dark eyes responding uncomfortably. Seeing nothing but an odd-colored, smooth, and damp burlap.

“No,” his voice was hollow as he turned his head to see burlap ears. 

“No…” Fiyero gasped, and took hold of the sink counter, letting his head drop, as if he might faint. His shoulders twitched, and his body trembled. “Nooooo!” He slammed his fist on the counter to the world’s softest ‘whoosh’ as small bits of straw dust fluttered in the air to land gracefully around his hand. 

Unsatisfied, frustrated, and feeling insulted, Fiyero growled and grabbed his right hand, yanked it off, and threw it out of the bathroom, into the small hallway. He locked his gaze with the stranger with dark brown eyes and struck at the mirror; struck at this stranger’s face. 

Nothing.

Fiyero struck the mirror again.

The stranger stared angrily and unaffected back at him until they both charged one another, and Fiyero punched the mirror over and over and over. Unable to cause even a crack in the silver-backed glass, he sank down onto the floor, sat on his rump, and rested his head on his knees.

Silent sobs escaped him as he closed his eyes and wished once more, by Vinkus, that he had told Elphaba he loved her that day on the train platform. So often he came back to that point in time at Shiz, because while he fell in love, that only time she touched his face, he hadn’t figured out at the time what happened to him. It formed when he returned to Shiz and in the weeks that followed. 

Fiyero knew he loved her when he went to see her off at the train station and wished her luck. He knew one-hundred percent where his heart aligned when she left for the Emerald City. When she came here.

Reaching up with the only hand he had left, Fiyero shut off the light to the bathroom and lay on his back. 

He screwed his eyes shut as memories flooded him. Being appointed Captain of the Guard. Hunting Elphaba in desperation to find her. Working with the Animals. Listening to every person in Emerald City say how awful the Wicked Witch was and how ugly and dangerous she became. “Elphaba…” Fiyero whimpered in the darkness and tried to hold on to their one night together in the Gilkin Forest. The same images he had gripped onto as his lifeline when his own squadron tortured him.

Student. Spy. Scarecrow…

Who would love me now?

Fiyero desperately needed rest, yet his mind betrayed him as he lay in the dark on the bathroom floor. He could tell the tile was cool, but he wasn’t cold.

His body was shivering, but it wasn’t because of a lack of heat. 

The Scarecrow yearned, and he remembered…

~~~~

“Can we go for a ride?” 

Lifting his head, getting to his hooves, Feldspur nodded. Because of the yelling and arrest of Doctor Dillamond yesterday, the rumors that spread quickly, the Horse did not feel inclined to speak. 

Fiyero raised a brow at his friend for only a moment, picking up on the cues. He had been wanting and dreading this moment all morning. “Do you mind if I?” He gestured to the saddle and bridle hanging on the wall. Feldspur said nothing and stepped closer to it. Fiyero cursed lightly under his breath and prepped Feldspur for the ride. 

It wasn’t until they were far off Shiz grounds that Fiyero tried again. “You heard what happened yesterday?”

“You know I did. We Animals talk.”

We Animals. This was the first time Fiyero had heard his best friend speak this way. It was always Feldspur and Fiyero, then everyone else. 

Fiyero swallowed. “Why don’t we go to the lake, then we both can walk around and talk?” Feldspur didn’t answer but headed that way, and Fiyero was glad for the silence. It gave him additional time to think. 

Once all feet and hooves were on the ground, the two walked side-by-side. “I was there, so you know. I saw the whole thing.” He tried to appease the Horse. 

Not easing into it, Feldspur gruffed, “I heard only one student stood up against them.” He looked at Fiyero because Feldspur knew who it was. He knew what class it was and who else attended that class. “Only one.”

Feldspur was driving the point home, and Fiyero felt his chest tighten. Now he understood the ‘We Animals’ all the more. “I’m sorry.” Fiyero looked down and swallowed. “I...” He couldn’t meet Feldspur’s gaze and didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. To give a flippant answer would insult the Horse. 

Angry at Fiyero, Feldspur asked dryly, “Did you laugh it off?”

“What?” Fiyero now looked at Feldspur. Horrified and hurt, “No! I did not...” He couldn’t even say it. “I... I...” He practiced this in his head all day yesterday after getting the cub to safety. After thinking about Elphaba and his touching. The complete walk back to Shiz campus.

“I stood up. I yelled.” He had done those things. Sort of. “They were man-handling Dr. Dillamond. Elphaba went forward. I stood up and protested.” His eyes were pleading with Feldspur, knowing he should have done more. 

“How did you protest?”

Weakly, Fiyero answered, “I called out, ‘Hey!’ I tried to get them to stop.”

Listening, a nod, the Horse asked, “Did you do anything else? Besides yelling ‘hey’?” Feldspur twitched an ear back, wanting to hear what else Fiyero had done. Maybe he had taken action, and that part of the story was left out. 

But, no. The answer unfolded empty. He knew the boy before him, and Feldspar saw Fiyero look away. Silent. 

Angry, Feldspur stopped walking and stomped his hoof against the gravel along the lake. “What would your parents say?” He was furious with Fiyero. “To know their future leader did nothing!” 

Fiyero, with a blotched red face, looked at Feldspur, his jaw locked and his fists tightening. He had no intention of striking or lashing out; that wasn’t his way. He needed to hold something, but there was nothing except the Horse, and Feldspur just verbally punched him. Making empty fists would have to do. 

His body numb, Fiyero looked away.

Feldspur snorted and shook his mane, hoofing forward slowly. It was a low blow he served the boy, he knew that, but to hear that the future leader of Winkie Country did nothing was equally hurtful. The two of them talked a lot on this subject, and when faced with taking a stand, Fiyero was mute. 

When he could talk again, Fiyero repeated, “I’m sorry, Feldspur.” The Horse ignored him. “There were guards. The way they treated Doctor Dillamond was terrifying...”

“All the more reason to do something.” Feldspur snorted. “Doctor Dillamond loved teaching all of you kids. He is a well-respected, well-educated member of the Animal and human community.” Fiyero knew Feldspur was right and nodded, walking near if the Horse would let him. 

“I was shocked. We all were, and I didn’t know what to do.” Fiyero reached out to stroke Feldspur’s neck, trying to make amends. The Horse took a step sideways, out of reach, so Fiyero let his arms fall to his sides. “Please forgive me,” he all but begged. 

Feldspur slowed but didn’t look back. “Sometimes I think you play your game recklessly, young prince.”

Hearing that hurt, Fiyero’s gaze went down. He nodded. 

Feldspur turned his head and looked at the boy. “I will forgive you, Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie Country.” Hearing his full name was never good, and a muscle in Fiyero’s neck twitched. “We’ve gone through too much together for me to suddenly overlook your lack of heroism.” With a sigh, the Horse said, “Part of me hoped you would say you were playing the role. Pretending to be disinterested.” Fiyero shook his head, and Feldspur wasn’t sure if he was relieved to see that or not. “I am disappointed that it wasn’t my friend who tried to stop it, but I will say, I am grateful someone tried. Your friend.” 

Fiyero accepted that and moved over to Feldspur, giving him a hug around the neck at being forgiven. “Thank you,” he all but whispered. 

“It’ll be okay, Winkie Prince.” Not mocking, Feldspur said it hoping to remind Fiyero who he was. What his responsibilities were. Feldspur wasn’t just accompanying him to Shiz for fun. He was still a mentor to Fiyero, and had been since the boy was born; even as that boy was turning into a man. 

“I really am sorry, Feldspur.” He patted the thick neck of the Horse. “It honestly happened so fast.” The Horse nodded, accepting what the boy could offer. “We managed to save a Lion cub.”

“A Lion cub?” 

“Yes.” Trying to redeem himself, Fiyero added, “Elphaba put everyone to sleep, and it was my idea to rush and get the little Lion out of the cage.” 

“What’s a cage?” 

Fiyero wished he hadn’t said it, but he wouldn’t keep the truth from Feldspur. He explained exactly what a cage was, what the Ozian Professor said, did, and how he and Elphaba stole the Lion back. He told Feldspur everything about yesterday. 

“Wait,” Feldspar raised a brow. “If she put everyone to sleep, how were you awake to steal back the cub?” 

Knowing Feldspur, Fiyero was quick to explain, “I don’t know. I asked her the same, and she never answered.” Wanting the Horse’s approval, he tried, “See here?” He pointed to the side of his face. “When I asked her that very question, she just told me the Lion had scratched me.” The mark on his head was not even a day old. 

“Maybe she thought you were useful for a change,” Feldspur tried to lighten the mood and release his anger. 

“Maybe,” Fiyero nodded and went quiet. 

“What? No jokes?” His ears flickered back and perked forward. Watching that look from Fiyero. 

“I think she likes me, Feldspur.”

“She finally came around?”

“Not like that,” he was quick to defend. “Maybe she doesn’t like me. I don’t know... I...” Fiyero rubbed his chin. “I might like her.”

“What’s not to like?” Feldspur snorted. “She took a stand for us Animals.”

“Yes, true.” Fiyero glanced at his friend and looked away again. 

“Oh.” Feldspur blinked and stepped forward, nudging Fiyero’s back with his nose. “Young prince,” he offered kindly. “When you say you might like her...”

“Yes,” Fiyero uncomfortably answered. “Yes, I mean it just like that.” 

The Horse said nothing at first and watched the boy. “She is smart.”

“Very smart. Highly intelligent. The smartest one in the class.”

“She’s motivated.” 

“She is.” Fiyero looked at his friend. “She really is. She is the only one Madame Morrible accepted into her seminar for sorcery.”

“Wasn’t Galinda also accepted?”

“Only because Elphaba played Morrible and forced her to accept her roommate, too.” He didn’t want to think about Galinda right now. 

“So, she’s shrewd too,” Feldspur swished his tail. 

“That she is. Oh, she’s definitely that.” Thinking about how Elphaba eluded his questions sometimes, Fiyero couldn’t help but admire her. “And witty.” And her own brand of funny, he supposed. “Elphaba’s also very determined. When she has her sights set on something, she gives her all.”

“Witty. Determined.” Feldspur kept his eye on Fiyero. “Beautiful.”

“Yes,” Fiyero admitted. 

“And green.”

The boy gave a murderous glare, accompanied by a scowl. “Who cares if she’s green?” Offended for Elphaba, Fiyero snapped, “How does being green even matter?”

Feldspur snorted with laughter and shook his head. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t matter at all.” 

Fiyero looked both shocked and confused at the Horse. “Then why say that?”

“To note your reaction.” The Horse grinned. “Yes. You like her.”

Fiyero sighed and realized Feldspur got him. “Damn.”

“No one knows you better than I,” Feldspur reminded the boy. Whatever additional thoughts the Horse had, he kept them to himself. 

“Yes, you know me best.” Fiyero was surprised that he walked right into Feldspur’s well-laid trap. 

Feldspur stepped into Fiyero and nudged his arm. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“I’m not sure what to do, if I’m being honest.”

“Honest is good.” Feldspur saw the troubled look in the prince’s eyes. “It complicates things.”

“Yeah. You’re telling me.” There were a lot of complicated ideas running around in his head. Starting with his school plans and ending at his parents’ castle back home. “I can’t think of that now,” Fiyero brushed it off. 

“So?”

“So... for now, we act normal. That includes what happened to Doctor Dillamond and the Lion cub.” He knew Feldspur wouldn’t like that, and right he was, because the Horse snorted and frowned. 

“I will limit my talking around others, Fiyero. You must understand that.”

Sad, he nodded to his friend. “I do. And I’ll do whatever I can, whatever you need me to.” His chest tightened. “If... if we have to leave here sooner than planned, let me know. We’re gone.” As much as that could cost him, Fiyero knew he would do it for Feldspur. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Feldspur wasn’t feeling very confident about such an outcome, given yesterday. “If it does, we’ll leave immediately for the Vinkus. Your parents will understand.” Fiyero nodded and rested his head against the Horse’s neck, gently stroking. 

“I’m not the praying kind, but I will pray it doesn’t come to that.” Some of his classmates prayed, and Nessarose was good at showing what it looked like. 

“Feldspur?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been...” Fiyero’s tone changed. It was soft again, like when he was talking about Elphaba. 

“Have I ever been...”

“In...” 

“In love?” The Horse smiled and turned his head to mess up Fiyero’s hair. “No. I’ve spent my whole life looking after this annoying boy.” Feldspur chuckled, “You might want to ask him though. I think he might be.”

Patting the thick neck muscles, Fiyero offered, “Thanks.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Let’s go back, okay?”

“Of course.” Feldspur waited until Fiyero was safely atop and turned, trotting back to Shiz. The return ride was quiet and uneventful as both males had a lot on their minds. 

~~~~

Annoying boy.

With a swallow, Fiyero lay on his back and stared up into the dark bathroom in the Wizard’s palace. He could not wish his sorrow away any more than he could stop his memories from taking him. 

He had plans. What he thought were good plans, because of his love for Elphaba…

Chapter Text

If being back in the Emerald City was odd, being once more inside the Wizard’s palace was surreal. This is where the Wizard lived. It was where Glinda lived. Hell, even Morrible.

For five years he came to the palace and in the last few months, promoted to captain, this was his main patrol. There was a reason Fiyero wanted to seclude himself in his room, beyond simply exhaustion.

Fiyero did not expect to be hit with these memories he worked so hard to block. One by one, they refused to let him be, and he was too tired to fight them anymore. Too tired to fight himself.

The last five years were miserable, and he had very few wins to show for his hard work. If he was honest with himself, the only good times were when he thought he was getting closer to finding Elphaba. We are ‘hot on her trail’, as his squadron said.

Good times…

Good times were a joke. A joke Fiyero never found funny.

His heart ached, missing Elphaba. No matter where he was, Emerald City or not, his mind and body burned for her.

Life was good prior to the Emerald City, wasn’t it?

He had smiled. He formed possibly real friends, and he honestly missed them. Nessa (rest her soul), Boq (with Dorothy, Toto, and the Lion in this very moment), Glinda (possibly a floor or two away for all he knew), and Elphaba.

Elphaba.

A dreamlike state overcame him any time Fiyero thought of Elphaba. He remembered trying to turn his life around, not for, but because of Elphaba. She was strong. Independent. Followed her dreams. She showed him a different way to live that perhaps he could reconcile with his past. Unspoken, Elphaba showed him what living for the future looked like. A novel idea.

Mercy washed over Fiyero as he re-directed his thoughts. He sought older memories. The last time he saw Elphaba, he had been with Feldspur.

Fiyero remembered the weeks leading up to her departure for the train station platform. Back in their Shiz days... soon after the Lion cub...

~~~~

The day after Dillamond’s arrest, the next morning, Fiyero felt nervous, and he couldn’t believe he was jittery before class. Many mornings before history, Fiyero would hang out in the commons area outside. Waiting for Galinda or friends to pass by. In most classes, he showed up late or barely on time, but never in Doctor Dillamond’s class.

Doctor Dillamond’s not even there, the reality struck him, and Fiyero frowned. There was nothing about this morning that he was looking forward to. Even in seeing Galinda and her roommate, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

They had a new history teacher. It was obvious to Fiyero that the history teacher was pushing Oz politics. He knew Elphaba wouldn’t like that one bit, and sadly, he knew it probably wouldn’t even be on Galinda’s mind.

He tried talking to his friends last night about Dillamond. Galinda was more interested in where he was once everyone woke up. Fiyero lied to her and said he had woken up before everyone else, and that he had felt disoriented, and left. He also lied and said he couldn’t remember if Elphaba was there asleep. Whatever Elphaba told her roommate, he hoped to back her story up.

He didn’t enjoy lying to Galinda in this way. For the first time, despite Feldspur constantly challenging him on it, Fiyero thought about how his lies might affect her. Galinda didn’t deserve to be treated poorly, yet Fiyero wasn’t sure how to back out of being her boyfriend. Trying to find Elphaba and at least get their stories straight was what Fiyero wanted to do.

The problem was that Galinda was always there, at his side. I got exactly what I wanted; he thought sadly as he fixed his hair. The blame lies 100 percent with me.

He remembered talking to his friends last night, trying to see what they thought about Doctor Dillamond and the new professor. Galinda told him not to worry so much, and Boq and Nessa chimed in with similar sentiments. There wasn’t anything they could do about it, and wouldn’t it be nice to go for drinks? That’s when Fiyero dropped it. He still felt guilty about his lack of action and the one person who might understand… It’s complicated.

Fiyero saw Elphaba coming out of the dorms, and his spirits lifted. Maybe he could manage a few minutes with her. Maybe he would be able to tell if she felt something from yesterday in the forest like he did. Maybe… Galinda was on her friend’s arm, and together they headed to class. Fiyero ducked behind a pillar and let them walk on by. I’m going to arrive late for class today.

When he entered late, Galinda looked over at his arrival, and Elphaba didn’t look at him at all. Galinda had saved his seat for him, and he waved a hand in some sort of non-real apology to the new professor as he crossed the classroom. Galinda immediately went to take his hand and he held it briefly before giving it a squeeze and letting go. To keep his hands occupied, Fiyero began taking copious notes, pen in one hand and notebook in the other. With Galinda between them, it was hard to lean forward or lean back to try and catch Elphaba’s eye. His view blocked.

When class was over, Galinda was on him, and he tried again to catch Elphaba. She packed up her bag and looked upset. He felt upset too and didn’t understand how everyone could sit in history class like yesterday hadn’t happened. He felt like a wreck, and the one person who cared even more than him was leaving class. Fast. With Galinda blocking his way, Fiyero couldn’t even run past to catch up.

A smile to Galinda, he put his hand on her back so they could get to their next class together. Every class they had together had been the same. Elphaba. Galinda. Him. Galinda asked him if he felt sick, because to her, he was not his usual self, and Fiyero just shrugged it off with a half-smile and said he was fine.

It was worse in the study group because he sat next to Elphaba most times, and she was so used to ignoring him as she actually studied, that Fiyero studied too. He didn’t want to pull them all off to go dancing. Or drinking. Had he done that, Galinda would be at his side and… What did I get myself into? He knew this was his fault: this whole strategic set-up he had worked for months building. Fiyero had wanted immaterial things, and now he was stuck with them.

In the back of his mind, he wondered where Doctor Dillamond was. Was he even at Shiz anymore? Did those guards let him go back home? Where was his home? Ozian guards had pulled Dillamond away. Arrested their professor. What fate did Doctor Dillamond have?

On the following Friday night, he and Galinda had a date planned, and desperate to talk about it, Fiyero arranged for a small boat where he would row. Galinda found the idea very romantic, but didn’t expect him to be occupied the whole time. All Fiyero wanted to do was row and talk.

“Do you ever wonder what happened to Doctor Dillamond?” When they were far enough away from Shiz, he dared to ask her.

“Darling, are you still thinking about that day?”

Fiyero felt his emotions rise, and he swallowed them back. “Yeah.” He looked at Galinda. She was kind, sweet, and did not understand. How can she? “I’ve been thinking,” he started.

“Fiyero, are you getting sick?”

He tried not to frown. Or give any reaction. “I’m feeling alright.”

“Why don’t you want to go to The Ozdust tonight? It’s Friday. Everyone is going.”

That piqued his interest. “Everyone?” While The Ozdust wasn’t his first choice to talk to Elphaba… If that is where she is going to be… maybe we should go.

“Mostly everyone. Elphaba is staying in our room to study. She said there’s work she wants to prepare for, for Morrible’s seminar.” His spirits fell. “I told her I don’t know why she’s studying on a Friday night. She’s doing so well in the seminar, making much more progress than I am. But did I tell you? I changed a coin into a butterfly.”

Disappointed, Fiyero couldn’t go up to Galinda’s room with Galinda not there. He had picked her up early tonight, hoping to say hi to Elphaba. Something he had never done before, and it didn’t pay out because Galinda’s roommate wasn’t there. Only Pfannee and Shenshen. He sat on the hallway lounge seat outside their room and waited. “You did?” That sounded like progress.

“It was only a trick coin, not a real butterfly either. Madame Morrible said it would help me imagine the results.”

“Oh.” His individual studies were in mathematics, not sorcery, so he was of little help in understanding if that was good. “Congratulations,” he offered and looked at the room balconies on the shoreline of Shiz dock. Trying to glimpse someone green.

“It’s not really anything to say congratulations on, at least not yet, but thank you, Fiyero. You’re always so kind.”

“So, I was thinking,” he tried and saw Galinda look at him oddly. She doesn’t want to hear about cages. Fiyero made something up and continued rowing. He watched the great clock and after half an hour, he confessed, “I think you’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

Concerned, Galinda looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” The truth came from him.

“Oh, Fiyero. I’m sorry. Do you need help getting back to your room?”

“No, no, thank you.” He wanted to get to the dock and shook his head. “I’m going to go lie down.”

“Was it something you ate?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated and rowed faster to the docks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Once they docked, he tied up the boat and walked with Galinda on his arm to the dorms. “Good night,” he bid her and didn’t give her a hug and evaded her kiss, muttering something about not wanting to get her sick. “Good night,” he repeated and left her there as he went straight to his dorm.

That’s when it hit him: I should have walked her to her room. If Elphaba was there…

Fiyero now did feel sick, and Feldspur’s previous comments came to haunt him. You play your game recklessly. How do you think these girls feel? He didn’t want to hurt Galinda, not at all, and Fiyero didn’t know what to do about this.

He went to bed before nine on a Friday night. That was another sign he knew he was not okay.

~~~~

The Scarecrow’s mind didn’t stop there. Fiyero couldn’t.

He remembered everything about his time before coming to the Emerald City.

~~~~

“You shouldn’t evade Galinda, young prince.” They were walking around the lake, the only place where Feldspur would talk. “If you have an actual interest in Elphaba, you should break it off with Galinda. I don’t understand why you are continuing with Galinda and torturing yourself.”

“I’m not,” Fiyero kicked a rock into the lake, watching it go out far with a splash.

“So, you did break it off with Galinda?” Feldspur watched the boy. The prince was quiet. “You are continuing with Galinda. You didn’t break it off.”

“I’m not torturing myself.” Fiyero felt the need to clarify. “If I break it off with Galinda, and I read Elphaba wrong…” He had gone over this too many ways in his head as he lay in bed last night.

Feldspur sputtered the conclusion that Fiyero kept coming to, “You don’t want to be alone.”

A sharp glance at his friend, Fiyero’s face twisted, and he said nothing. He kicked another rock, sending it flying forward to crash into a pile of others. Feldspur has a way of saying the sharpest things sometimes. He wouldn’t admit whether or not the Horse was right.

Not about to pick the scab of an open wound, Feldspur said nothing more about how the young prince was feeling. “You know,” he tried to support the boy, “They are such good friends, there is always the possibility that even if she returns your affection, Elphaba wouldn’t become romantically involved with you.”

“I know,” Fiyero’s frustration came on strong. “I’ve thought about this over a hundred ways, and I see no way that someone doesn’t come out hurt.” In almost every possible scenario, he would be guilty of causing harm and more than likely become hurt himself. That’s why Fiyero felt frozen for now, doing nothing. “I know you see right through me,” Fiyero felt the need to say. “Please don’t state the obvious.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything further on it,” Feldspur watched the troubled expression on Fiyero. Oh, to be young and this is your biggest worry, he thought silently.

As if reading the Horse’s mind, Fiyero added, “My problems seem trivial, compared to what’s going on around me.” Feldspur raised a brow and watched the boy as they walked. “And I can’t help thinking this is all of my doing. It’s all my fault, anyway.”

To that comment, Feldspur did address, “Expand.”

Fiyero stopped in his tracks, and he turned to face his friend and mentor. “I’m the one who did this. Me. I go into these new schools, latch on to the first girl that…” He shook his head and pinched his nose, slowly shaking his head. “I sound pathetic.”

It’s catching up with him. Feldspur hadn’t meant to curse the boy that first day they arrived at Shiz. “Why do you think you do this?”

“I don’t know why,” Fiyero didn’t want to admit it. “I mean, I know why I did it originally. You know why. Why do I still do it? I don’t know, maybe I do…”

“Which is…?”

His jaw tightened, and Fiyero bent over, this time picking up an oval, thin stone, and faced the lake. Instead of answering Feldspur, he winged the rock at the right angle to watch it fly and skip five times across the water’s smooth surface. “I’m fucked, Feldspur.” He finally said.

As the young prince didn’t curse like this often, Feldspur held back whatever he might respond with and let the boy process what was going on in his head.

“And I know this is stupid. I know I’m stupid.” When Feldspur snorted after hearing that, Fiyero corrected, “Fine. I’m acting stupid.” Feldspur nodded his head once to let the boy continue his rant. “We have to come out here, far away from Shiz or town or others, just to talk!” He grabbed a handful of rocks now, throwing them one at a time as far as he could into the water. “That’s a real problem, Feldspur. One worth worrying about. And I’m stupidly bothered about whether a girl might return my feelings. Then, in the same breath, I have to leave the school grounds secretly just to talk to you about it!”

Mad, Fiyero threw the last three at once, watching the rocks arc high into the air and splash at different times when they hit.

Feldspur asked, “Feel better?”

Turning, Fiyero all but growled, “No, I don’t!” He stared at the Horse, “I’m mad, Feldspur. I’m mad about so many things right now!” Fiyero gave a sharp shake of his head. “Why are we even here anymore? Being here at Shiz is just so…” Fiyero grabbed another handful of rocks and threw the whole pile. “Ugh!” They didn’t go as far; some never hit the water.

“I’m so stupid!” He kicked at them again and walked away, not wanting to hear Feldspur correct him. “There are real concerns happening all around us. And it took Doctor Dillamond getting arrested, Elphaba taking a stand in class, and you getting mad at me for me to even see it!” Fiyero went to kick another rock but missed, almost slipping and falling on his arse. He recovered, wiping his hands together after catching his fall. “Back home, we even talked about it. So many times. Maybe my father’s right.” He sighed, “Maybe I am just a stupid dreamer.”

“Young prince!” Feldspur stomped his hoof three times. “Your father has never called you stupid.” Fiyero shot a look at the Horse. “That’s your doing.”

Not about to get into an argument with Feldspur over his upbringing, Fiyero walked away. He’s called me a dreamer. He controls my life. I had to sign that agreement. Why can’t I clear my head of all this?

Fiyero heard Feldspur coming up behind him. “I want to be left alone,” Fiyero blurted.

Feldspur saw the young prince tighten his fists and knew what that meant. Since his youth, Fiyero had done that when he was upset, frustrated, or stressed. “I’ll be over by the tree line whenever you’re ready.” He turned and gave the boy what he had asked for.

Mad, angry, upset with the world, Fiyero couldn’t clear his mind or numb himself into a stupor. Away from Feldspur, he mumbled to himself and out loud vented about all the things that bothered him today. It was a long list, and it started from when he was young and ended with Doctor Dillamond and Elphaba.

At one point, Fiyero sat near the lake shoreline and silently grabbed rocks, stuck in his own head, and threw them as far as he could until his arm was sore. Fiyero pulled up his knees and rested his forehead against them, wishing to the Unnamed God, whom he didn’t even pray to, that he could let all this go and find his calm.

Most times, pretending to be happy was easy, but today it eluded him. Today, he was more than moody. I’m a goddamn train wreck.

Sitting there, miserable, Fiyero thought of ways he could avoid Galinda. And ways he might talk to Elphaba. Sadly, nearly every idea canceled the other one out.

--

In the next few weeks at Shiz, Fiyero practiced his best course of action: avoiding them both. He cancelled on dinner dates. He didn’t go singing or dancing. In the study group, Fiyero sat off to the side, against the wall, and next to Boq. He did his homework in his room or, worse, in failed attempts to get Elphaba alone, Fiyero went to the library. Anytime he saw Elphaba, she was with Galinda, and it was driving him crazy. Do they do everything together? He couldn’t even find Elphaba alone after individual class periods because both Galinda and Elphaba were taking sorcery.

Trying to catch her eye was hard because the few times he did it, Elphaba would look at him and then look immediately away. Or Galinda would magically pop into his view and block it. Or talk to him. Or put her hand on his chest. Or grab his arm. You poor thing, he silently chastised himself a few times when he caught himself internally complaining about the attention Galinda gave him. You poor, stupid thing.

Fiyero went to bed early. He got up late. He went for a lot of rides with Feldspur where he felt like a broken record and finally stopped talking about it because the Horse did not agree with his avoidance tactics. Fiyero hung out doing homework in the library so often, his grades were improving. In all classes except history. In history, he felt unmotivated and didn’t want to turn in homework. I miss Doctor Dillamond. He was never that close to their professor, but even in the way Dillamond spoke, you could tell he cared.

Besides, Fiyero associated history class with Elphaba more than any other class. He daydreamed in history class almost every day, wondering what might have happened that day with the Lion cub at the pond.

What if I just nuzzled her hand? Elphaba was stroking his cheek and touching his ear and neck. Did he really need more signs? What if I kissed her? It would have been terribly wrong for him to have done that, especially as he had a girlfriend. What if I had just done it? Done something?

Class was dismissed, and Fiyero hadn’t paid attention to anything the professor had said. As if waking up, he wished, What if I didn’t play my game when I arrived? What if I got to know Elphaba on my own? His chest tightened, catching Elphaba’s eye again as she went to put her notebook in her bag. Elphaba turned from them both and left for their next class; Galinda’s well-manicured hand took hold of his arm. He had been stuck in his head; drifted off into space.

“Ready?” He came back to life and asked her. Smiled down at Galinda.

“I really like our new professor,” she shared, and that made his heart sink. “He seems very futuristified.”

“Yeah,” Fiyero responded by rote, and together they left the classroom.

After classes, he told his friends he needed extra focus so he didn’t fail history and wouldn’t be attending dinner or the study group. Galinda looked disappointed, so he kissed the top of her hair. He hated to see her like that, but not enough to go be with them all. Lying on his bed, hands clasped over his ribs, he had put his pillow over his face to block out the world.

Excited noises were happening outside, and pulling off the pillow, Fiyero sat halfway up. What are they celebrating? It sounded like a large group of people. Moving to the window, about to open it, he glanced up and over to see Elphaba and Galinda on their balcony, excited. With a frown, Fiyero stayed inside his room, but cracked open the window so he could hear. Madame Morrible was waving and calling Elphaba down, and students were gathering around Morrible. There was a definite buzz in the air.

His eyes followed as the two roommates disappeared back into their room, and he watched the docks until both Galinda and Elphaba reappeared below. A small balloon messenger was crossing their little port, and Morrible kept gesturing to Elphaba, and he swore he heard her say ‘The Wizard’. With everyone’s attention on the miniature balloon, Fiyero opened the balcony doors and stepped outside, listening. Elphaba read out loud the note, and Fiyero felt happy for her. Truly happy for her, even as a great sadness settled in the pit of his stomach. He went back to bed and threw the covers over his head.

Elphaba is going to meet the Wizard. She deserves it because she works so hard. She’s so smart. She’s got everything going for her. She’s going places.

Fiyero swallowed and closed his eyes.

What have I ever accomplished or done?