This is not my fault, honest, blame CrazyBeagle! Ok, I guess I can't blame it all on her but I would never have written such a depressing mess if she hadn't told me to do so. I'm interested to see what everyone thinks of this because I have mixed feelings about it myself.
In her experience happiness was never as good as she had expected. Yes they were safe, yes a fragment of peace had been restored to Oz for the time being but at what cost? She'd lost a friend, a sister, her country, her cause, her freedom, even her lover in a way if she looked at him now.
Hours of planning, weeks of hope, for this. A tin shed, in a desert wasteland, in the badlands. Stuck in time, the days only defined by the rising and setting of the sun, the sun which she could not even enjoy as even here the outside meant danger and that was something she could no longer have. Now the sun only meant their 'house' would be filled with an infernal heat and the light it let through the rusty holes in the roof only sought to hit the tin surfaces, to cast a reflection, to remind them both of what they wanted to forget. They both were not beautiful, regardless of what the other said.
She envied him. For all the lack of humanity he now possessed at least he was free to leave what had become her new prison, the one thing he had joined the Gale Force to make her avoid he had sentenced her to when they had faked their deaths. He went out to collect her food, he was out of the dungeon that once seemed like paradise if only for a while. He could have his freedom as long as he stayed away from the tribes who believed he was an evil spirit. She had never in her life cared to have anything he had yet now she did, and she was sure he could sense it when she grunted her hollow thanks when he returned.
Yet even then there were good times. Times where she would rest upon him as she fell asleep and he would stroke her hair gently and whisper to her words of love, tell her lies about how everything was going to be ok. Times when he would tease her playfully and she would be reminded of the boy she'd first met at Shiz, she would laugh back and push him playfully. He would fall over all too easily. Times they'd sit and laugh over memories – memories that got far too painful when thought about for too long. Times she should have treasured. Times that were all too few and far between.
She knew he was not happy. The careless boy she had once known had turned into a weary straw man who had seen all together too much of the world. He would always put on an effort for her – and for that she appreciated – but far too often his smiles were strained and the longing for his humanity was always there, however much he tried to hide it.
So she tried, she worked relentlessly night and day to give him back just one thing on the never-ending list of things she'd taken away from him. She cursed herself repeatedly for giving away the grimmerie to Glinda but what was one more idiocy to add to her list of mistakes? He watched her, cautiously, carefully assuring her constantly that she didn't need to do this for him, but she knew he was lying to her – he wanted this as much as she did.
Finally she felt it, a power rise from one of the spells she had written. A smile, at last a slither of undared for hope slipped into both of them, she felt it would be best if done outside. They agreed to disregarded safety just for this once, she'd perform the transformation spell at sunset.
Their steps were cautious but excited, the thought of something going right infecting their minds, this would not solve everything but it was an improvement, they were in sore need of an improvement right now. He stationed himself in front of her and smiled encouragingly as she began to chant the spell.
It was wrong, she could feel it within an instant. The words whipped too roughly, too sharply, around him yet she could not stop. The beautiful sunrise and the fresh breeze mocked her shamelessly as the fire shot from her fingers and wrapped itself around him, as his smile quickly turned to one of fear, as she tried desperately to save him, already knowing she couldn't.
There was no heartfelt goodbyes, no final 'I love yous' all she heard were his screams as she looked on, helpless, in blind panic, the flames eating away at the ragged body she knew now she should have been grateful for. In the final moments their eyes met, but whether his gaze held love or loathing she could not determine before that too was taken away from her. The fire stopped as quickly as it started, leaving only his ashes on the dusty hillside.
And there she stood, motionless, unable to muster neither pain nor fury. Just watching as even his ashes were taken away by the wind. She was alone. Just like every other thing that had given her hope and happiness in her life he was gone without a trace.
She didn't know why she was surprised.