AN : not the usual things that I write. Blame it on work stress.
They said that Kiamo Ko was haunted.
Some said that the castle was haunted by a woman who died while waiting for a lover who never came back. Others said that the castle was haunted by a man who had died a wrongful death. The owner of the only tavern in the village swore that he once saw a pair of ghosts at the parapet of the castle. When questioned, he insisted that they were ghosts because he blinked his eyes and they were gone. A few of the villagers had subsequently (on a bet) tried to approach the castle, only to come running back when they heard strains of sorrowful music coming from the place. No one dared to make another attempt.
Fiyero was fine with all this.
The rumors meant that no one would dare to come near to Kiamo Ko, which meant that no one would find out the secret of the castle. That no one would find out that there were actually two person hiding in the castle, hiding from the rest of the world.
Two person so in love with each other, that she would accept whichever form he came in. Two person so in love with each other, that he would look at her and always find her beautiful no matter how she looked.
Living in the castle was not as difficult as he had expected. They had their daily routine. Every morning, Fiyero would go to a different part of the castle and inspect the place. The castle, formerly a water works, was built with the intention to last a thousand years. However, that did not mean that it was immune to wear and tear. Once in a while, Fiyero would find a broken window, or a loosened cobblestone. He might be made of straw, but he was still surprisingly strong, and Fiyero would spend the next few days fixing the damage. On other days, when everything was in order, he might take a broom (not that broom, of course, which had been taken away by Dorothy) and swept the cobwebs. They never had any visitor, but then Fiyero always hoped that one day Elphaba would go on his rounds with him, and when that happened, he would like to show her a castle that was clean and tidy.
On that day, he went to the one of the lower floors on the east side of the castle. A family of crows had built a nest on one of the window ledges, and he was delighted to see that the eggs that were laid by mother crow had hatched. He counted five little hatchlings in the nest, their bodies barely covered with feathers. He stood there watching as one of the parents fussed over them, and for a moment he envied them. They might be crows, but at least they were able to start their own family. Fiyero looked at his own burlap body, the straw sticking out and smiled sadly.
After his morning check, he went to the library where he knew he would find her. Elphaba was seated on her favourite couch, the one next to the window, with a book opened on her lap. The window faced the mountains, away from the village and there was no worry that they would be seen by anyone. He kissed her on her cheek, and described his morning to her, telling her about the crows, trying his very best to leave the sadness out of his voice. He knew that she felt guilty for turning him into a scarecrow. He felt sad sometimes that he was a scarecrow and no longer a human being. But he kept all these feelings to himself. Elphaba had enough worries of her own, and he did not want to burden her with his selfish thoughts. He cozied up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he tried to see what she was reading. It was a book on the history of Vinkus, and he read to her, turning the page whenever he had finished reading that page.
The sun was still up when they finished the book. There was a gramophone in the library, and Fiyero chose a disc from the stack next to the gramophone and put it on the player. He turned the crank, and a soft melodic sound filled the air. Elphaba, as usual, was reluctant to dance, and he had to pull her off the couch (and sometimes she did refuse to get off the couch). They had never danced together when they were in Shiz, and Fiyero was determined to make up for all those lost time. Elphaba actually was not that bad a dancer, and though she was a bit stiff, she had never stepped on his toes. She leaned against him and he whispered his love to her as he twirled her around the room, skillfully avoiding the furniture.
But the music soon ended and Fiyero reluctantly released her. He replaced the book that they had finished reading back onto the shelf and took another book from another shelf, turning the spine of the book to her so that she could see the title, hoping that she would comment on his taste. But Elphaba never disagree with his choice of books.
When that was done, he took the stairs to the highest tower in the castle. As he made his way up, his steps became heavier and heavier, and a familiar sense of dread fell over him.
He ran up the steps, two steps at a time. He was not supposed to have a heart, but he thought that something in his body pumped wildly, erratically, reflecting an unknown fear.
He pulled open the door gently and looked around. The place looked just the same as the last time when he was there, when Dorothy threw the bucket of water at Elphaba and 'melted' her. There was no sign that anyone else was here after they had left, and Fiyero heaved a sigh of relief. He approached the trap door and knelt next to it.
Please, let it work. Please let me be on time, he prayed as he reached for the trap door. There was a spring mechanism along one of the side; the door would spring open when pressed with the right pressure. He gingerly placed his straw fingers along the edge and felt for the spring and found it soon enough. He gave it a push, and the door sprung up slightly. He pulled open the door wider and saw her.
A smile touched Fiyero's face when he saw her face. Her eyes were closed, her hands on her lap, her face serene. Fiyero had only seen her asleep once, when they spent the night in the forest, and he never forgot how beautiful she looked when she slept peacefully in his arms, her hand on his chest. Her raven black hair fell across her shoulder, and Fiyero could not help but reached out.
"Fae?" he called her name gently as he touched her hair, and then her face. "Fae, it's me. Wake up." Her head lolled to the side and he instinctively jumped back.
No, he was not on time.
It was too late.
The sun was setting when he reached the room at the tower. He had never moved her after he had found her. He had no idea how he could do it, without causing any damage. And so the hiding place below the trapdoor became his bed, their bed. The place was small, but he was thin and he would lower himself into the tiny room and squeezed himself into another corner so that he could be next to her and yet not touched her accidentally. He would sit next to her and talked to her for a while before he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. And before he slept, he would always make the same wish, that she would be alive again when he opened his eyes the next day, or the crudely fashioned straw-woman that he had made and left in the library would start talking the next time he walked into the library. He had faith in her. After all, what was another spell to her if she could see houses flying in the air and could save him by turning him into a scarecrow?
A rat skittered out of the room just when he entered. Rats! He hated rats, they destroyed things. And then his jaw dropped when he saw what the rat had done.
Elphaba's head was gone.
"Fae!" he called her name as he jumped into the hole, and saw the full extent of the damage. An arm was torn off, the bones from elbow and below shattered as it hit the ground. Her skull had fallen from her shoulders and rolled to a shadowed corner. Fiyero picked it up gingerly with both hands. He lifted the skull and placed it on her shoulders again, but it fell off easily. This time, he could hear the soft but distinct sound of a bone cracking.
Fiyero felt completely useless. He was unable to protect her when he was a man. He was unable to save her when he was a scarecrow. And now he was not even able to keep her body intact. Fiyero sat with his back to the wall. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so badly, but he was unable to, because scarecrows did not have tears, they would not come no matter how much he tried. He wanted to lash out to someone, anyone, but he was all alone in the castle, and had been for so many years. He was nothing but just a lonely, crazy man. He did not deserve to live, not when she had died.
He picked up the shattered pieces from the ground, piece by piece. He knew that it was useless now, it was pointless. His hope was gone. She was gone, and she would never come back. He sat down next to her with his legs crossed, and placed the broken pieces on his lap. Last, but not least, he picked up the skull and tried to fix it on her shoulders again, and this time, it stayed. Fiyero smiled at the Elphaba next to him, what remained of her, and placed his arm around her waist, leaning his head close to hers. He closed his eyes as his hand reached out for that tiny box from the corner of the room, extracting the tiny stick from the box.
"I love you, Elphaba Thropp," he told her one last time.
And then he struck the match and dropped it onto his lap.