Oh my Oz! It's been I think a year since I've posted a Wicked fanfic. I've been dying to get back to it, but Next to Normal was like muwhahaha no. :P I actually have a few ideas in store for Wicked! So maybe, if I have time, those will be written and posted too. I am glad I completed my goal of posting a fic over Christmas break (I don't have my creative writing class to get in the way), but it makes me even more proud that it's a Wicked fic! :D
Enjoy!
As Always -Greengirl16
This story is dedicated to Tiggy the Hopeless Romantic, who beta read this and helped me stop the writer's block that was preventing me from finishing this story. I also dedicate it to populardarling and allisonosity, who gave me awesome ideas and also helped in stopping evil (writer's block) :)
Life was short, too short. He hadn't realized until now, looking in the face of death. Blood curdling screams echoed of the heavy walls made of slabs of stone. The scarecrow wondered, was this the feeling a murderer felt like after killing their victim? Guilt? He didn't remember experiencing such an immense pain in his short lifespan. Why guilt when the death was justified? "The witch must die," the Wizard had explained, no questions about it. That was when an innocent task became so much more: a witch hunt. He only wanted to help a lost girl find her home and to do this he had to kill a woman-no, not a woman, a witch.
Dorothy's expression matched his own. Horror. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air. The green skin of the witch sizzled and bubbled as the water worked its magic: making her disappear. A fatality no one knew existed until now. A fatality that was so brutal that even a witch shouldn't have to suffer through it. One final scream echoed off the walls, dying with her. The scream etched itself into the scarecrow's conscious, something that he wasn't aware he had.
Time froze. The guards, Dorothy, the Lion stood staring at a pool of green and a mass of black cloth that was a human being moments before. The Tin Man stood smirking at the scene in satisfaction.
Minutes? Hours? No one knew how long they stood looking at what seemed no more than a puddle from a passing storm. Dorothy dropped the bucket. Every clang as it hit the floor seemed to drag on.
"I-I didn't mean to," she stammered. "It was an accident." She fell to her knees beside the heap of clothes, sobbing. Tremors from her wrenching cries shook her body.
"No one blames you," the Scarecrow said, approaching her and resting his gloved hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly.
"I killed her," Dorothy looked up at him with hazel eyes that glistened with fresh tears.
The Scarecrow kept recalling the witch's death. It was like it was on repeat in his memory. Her hardened dark brown eyes stared at him, concealing a past of secrets. If he knew her story, would he have let her die?
The Tin Man started poking around in the puddle of ooze and cloth.
"What are you doing?" Dorothy sniffled.
"Finding the other half of her broomstick." He held up the broken stick that was splintered a quarter of the way down.
The Scarecrow went over to the remains of the witch. Odors of flesh, singed hair, and damp clothes wafted through the air. Dorothy gagged and vomited into the bucket, coughing and gasping for fresh air.
"Lion," the Tin Man snapped, "take her outside."
He stood shaking in the corner in fear. "o-" he stammered "okay."
"It'll be good for both of you."
The Scarecrow stood at the Tin Man's side, staring, as he searched for the missing part of the broomstick.
Something shiny caught the light streaming in from cracks in the wooden planks that boarded the windows. The Scarecrow bent clumsily to pick it up. A tiny black heart attached to a matching black chain. Little vines and what looked like poppies were etched into the front. He tried to open it, but his gloved hands couldn't clutch the clasp. The locket fell and hit the cold floor, breaking apart. He picked the two pieces up. To My Fae: Love always, Your hero. She had been loved. The Scarecrow ran his fingers over the small cursive letters.
Fiyero paced outside dorm room number 203, mustering the will to knock. Just do it his mind encouraged him. What's the worst she could do say 'I hate you' and slam the door in your face? Fiyero closed his eyes and knocked three times. This was it. He held his breath.
After a few minutes, the door swung open.
"Elphaba." Fiyero's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting her to answer the door.
"Oh, Master Tiggular, I wasn't aware you and Galinda had a date planned for tonight."
"We don't."
"We'll she's curling her hair. You can come in. I'm sure she can still have a conversation while fixing her curls."
Fiyero grabbed her wrist and pulled her out into the hall, closing the door behind them.
"What are you doing?" Elphaba gasped.
"Sorry, I didn't know if I'd get to talk to you alone before you left."
"Well, I doubt it, since I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I ran off on you last week, you know, when we, uh, saved the Lion cub?"
"It doesn't matter," Elphaba said, more coldly than planned.
"It does, and as an I'm sorry gift and a going away gift I got you," Fiyero fished around in his jacket pocket, "this!" He presented Elphaba a small jade velvet box.
Elphaba raised her thin dark eyebrows. "I thought you'd assume I'm not a girl who likes jewelry."
"Just open it."
Elphaba opened the box and saw a gleaming black heart necklace. It was engraved with small twirling vines and some sort of flower. A smile crossed her features for a split second before she composed herself and shut the lid.
Fiyero knew she loved it, though she'd never admit it. He hugged her. "Stay out of trouble," he whispered in her ear.
Elphaba pulled out of the hug, "Me? Trouble?" She smiled wickedly, walked back into her dorm room, and shut the door.
The Scarecrow stared at the locket in his hand. Incomplete thoughts whirled around in his head. He felt like he had been pushed off a cliff and was falling. The only thought that was clear was the name, Elphaba, but what did it mean? The room started to spin, faster and faster. The walls became a blur of speckled grays and blacks. The Scarecrow didn't even realize he had fallen, until he hit the ground. What was happening?
"Fiyero Tiggular! Are you stupid?" Elphaba screamed. She frantically paced the forest floor.
"Fae, calm down."
"Don't you dare tell me to CALM DOWN! You just left. How could you just leave? Glinda and I were friends. She's your fiancée! You need to go back. Tell her it was a mistake and that you're sorry. I'm sure Oz will understand if-"
Fiyero grabbed her shoulders, "I can't go back."
"What do you mean? Of course you can. Blame the whole thing on me if you have to. I can't let you do this." Elphaba struggled to pull out of his tight grip.
"If I went back, I'd be lying to myself. I can't pretend to have feelings for Glinda."
"Please," Elphaba whimpered. "You can't be here. You're going to get yourself killed."
"Then I'll die."
"Have you lost your mind?" Elphaba asked incredulously.
"No." Fiyero leaned in and gently kissed Elphaba's lips.
Elphaba's eyes widened in disbelief. "What," she breathed, "are you doing?"
"Fae, I love you."
"No." Elphaba pulled out of his grip and crossed the small clearing to sit on a tree stump. Fiyero followed her and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her bony shoulders. She pulled away. "You can't."
"Elphaba," Fiyero took her hands, "I've felt this way for a long time. I can't pretend I don't have feelings for you anymore."
Tears ran down Elphaba's face. "You're going to get yourself killed if you stay with me," she repeated.
"I don't care."
"You're a fool."
"I'd die to protect you before I'd go back to being half the person I was. I was so lost the day I found out you weren't coming back from the Emerald City and hey-" Fiyero stopped, causing Elphaba to turn to him. "You're wearing the necklace I gave to you."
Elphaba nodded.
Fiyero took the small heart in his hand and opened it.
Elphaba looked bewildered. "It opens?"
"You're the smartest person I know and you didn't figure out that it opened," Fiyero joked and kissed her forehead.
Elphaba looked at the small engraved letters. To My Fae: Love always, Your hero "Has that always been there?"
Fiyero nodded and smiled. "Always."
"Fae," the Scarecrow whispered.
"Excuse me?" the Tin Man retorted.
"Oh oz." He killed her, he killed the woman he loved. The woman he sworn he'd always protect. He was a traitor. The locket slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, shattering. "What have I done?"