Alright folks, I actually remembered to put an intro this time. Umm...basically, I've had this story floating around in my head from Gregory Maguire's book (which was amazing...) and assorted fanfictions. (I haven't seen the musical yet, but I do have the CD and am extremely obsessed with the show, ask any of my friends). First, however, I wanted to put out my one-shot, because I could get it out faster and I was curious as to the reception I would get. The true is, the concept of this story originally stemmed from a fanfiction I read, but I have tried my hardest to make this story its own original creation. Therefore, if I have used someone else's ideas, its unintentional and I probably don't even know that I did. Umm...what else...I do not own "Wicked" anything, not the book or the musical or anything related to it, and with one exception the characters in this story are not mine.
...I think I've gotten everything out of the way, so please enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome).
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He had no idea where he was.
He only knew that it was soft, and comfortable, and quiet. He hadn't experienced any of those adjectives, let alone all three at once, since...well, since before he cared to remember right now. If this was what it was like being dead, he mused, why in Oz did he wait so long?
And then he heard the singing. It was a sweet, simple melody that he knew but couldn't place. And the voice...the voice reminded him of someone he once knew...but the effort of trying to remember was too much for him, and he drifted back into darkness.
He came to few days later. He was in a simple, dim lit room that held little more than the bed he lay on. There was a small table to his left, and to his right...to his right there was a person. A young girl, to be specific, whose features were hidden in the dark of the room. He tried to speak to her, to ask her what was going on, but the darkness overtook him again.
At this thought her head dropped into her hands. What help? Even if she felt comfortable enough leaving the man alone, which she didn't, getting help wouldn't be easy. The only person she could trust just happened to be one of the most prominent figures in Oz.
The young women lifted her head at and stared at the man in the bed. Unfortunately, she really didn't have much of a choice. He was dying, and her powers had proven useless for once. She sighed, her decision already made. No one would be able to find this place without her help anyway....
She grabbed up her cloak and reached for the door. About to leave, she cast one last glance at the still body. Her breath caught in her throat when, for the first time, she truly saw how pale he had become. Turning to leave, she whispered fiercely:
"Hang in there, Fiyero."