Another chapter! Man, I'm on a roll with this! Unfortunatly, school resumes tomorrow, which will mean less frequent updates, but I'll do my best. Thank you to all who are following the story and an extra-speacial thanks to those who reviewed. You all are the driving force behind this story. I hope you continue to read and enjoy!
Funny how a few moments in time could feel like an eternity.
Fiyero Tiggular, Prince of the Vinkus, of the Arjiki Tribe, formerly of a scandilicious reputation, now simply "Scarecrow" sighed as he wrung out the damp cloth once more.
His hands were going to mold because of this.
He bit back an indignant snort at the thought. What did he care? It wasn't as though straw was irreplaceable. He could find some of the fresh material easily enough and then it was just a matter of restuffing himself.
He scoffed. That should prove to be an interesting experience.
Enough! You should be grateful you're even alive at this point! If it hadn't been for Elphaba, Oz only knows the state you would be in right about now.
The thought caused him to sag guiltily down into his chair. The relaxation of his hold caused the rag to fall from his grasp and land with a plop into the bucket of water that sat at his feet. Cursing softly, the prince reached for it once more. The wetter he got, the worse the damage would be. Although, it didn't really seem to matter anymore, did it? Everything he had to live for was seemingly gone. Some would call it a hopeless situation, to say the least. Why even bother pressing on?
Perhaps he truly was brainless, but what else did he have to lose?
Wringing the rag once more, Fiyero turned to his right and placed the cool rag on the snow-white forehead that lay on the bed beside him. To say Glinda had not taken his revelation well would be somewhat of an understatement. Despite the powder-puff exterior, the girl was tougher than one might have thought. She did not lose her cool easily in a tense situation; that had been one of the things Fiyero had admired most about his former fiancée.
The sole fact that she had completely swooned at his news gave an idea of the magnitude of the situation.
As soon as she felt the cool material touch her skin, the blonde let out a soft moan. For a moment, the prince thought she might stir, but nothing further came from the motion. Careful not to smudge what little make-up was left on her face - he knew her well enough to gage her reaction should she wake and not look the part of perfection - he gently mopped the cloth over her face, hoping to elicit some sort of response.
He received nothing.
Sighing, he returned the cloth to her forehead, abandoning his hold on it to take one of her small hands in his own. He had forgotten just how small her hands were. Delicate, soft, hands that had felt like silk between his fingers. Nothing like Elphaba's. Elphaba's hands were small, although large when compared to Glinda's. They were weathered, calloused, and worn. The hands of a worker.
Fiyero loved those hands.
In the few brief moments they had held him, he had experienced the closest thing to heaven he figured he ever would. It had taken Elphaba some time to believe that he was truly there for her and not just a convenient escape from a life he never wanted. When she had realized, however, that he spoke the truth, she had held him as though she would never let him go.
Now, as he sat by the bed of the woman who had loved him unrequitedly, he couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. Here he was comparing these two women, complete opposites and yet, amazingly similar.
He had never meant to hurt Glinda. Not in a million years. She had been there when he had no one else to turn too. She had helped him through the death of his father six months after graduation and he had been by her side as she rose through the ranks of Oz. They had been such a large part of one another's lives that, had Elphaba not shown up when she did, he might have very well gone through with the marriage.
He knew he had hurt her when he ran off with Elphaba. The hurt had been evident in her crystalline eyes as she had stared in disbelief. In that one short moment, everything had changed and she had gone from the pampered princess who had everything she ever wanted to the rejected party by the one man she had ever loved. If there was one thing he could have done differently, it would have been the manor in which he left.
But that could never be. There was no magical button that could turn back the clock. And even if there was, his decision would have been the same.
He had loved Glinda, yes.
But Elphaba was his world.
Casting a glance toward the bed, he sighed and ran the cloth over her face once more.
He realized it was selfish of him, but he could only hope that Glinda understood.
Another moan came from the bed and Fiyero's head immediately rose. Glinda had begun to shift slightly, face contorting into carious expressions that would have been comical had it been under different circumstances. Her eyelids finally blinked several times and her eyes fluttered open to reveal their brilliant blue. She was silent for a moment, seemingly taking in her surroundings and the strange sight of the Scarecrow sitting before her with a water bucket and holding the damp rag.
Her gaze flicked from the rag to his face as she asked, "What happened?"
"You fainted," Fiyero explained as he ran the cloth over her face again, simply as a precaution.
Her eyes closed again momentarily, and Fiyero feared she was slipping back into oblivion. He breathed a sigh of relief when they opened merely seconds later. "Did I?" she asked, accepting the glass of water that he offered and taking a sip. "I don't remember much."
He smiled gently. "Are you feeling better?"
The blonde nodded. "I believe so. I had the strangest dream, I'm afraid." She turned her gaze to him. "You were there?"
"I was?"
Another nod. "It was the strangest thing. I dreamed that you came to me ranting about lies and something else. Then you told me something that couldn't have possibly been true." A weak laugh escaped her. "The funny thing is that part of me wishes it had been true."
Fiyero frowned. "It wasn't a dream, Glinda. Everything you just spoke of happened not an hour ago."
He watched as all color drained from her face and she immediately tried to sit up. "But that would mean that…how in Oz…there's no way…you can't be…"
He helped her into a sitting position, a hand remaining on her back. "It's me, Glinda. I'm Fiyero. I swear I'm telling the truth."
She was still shaking her head. "No. No, you can't be. I knew Fiyero. He was…well, he was human for one thing. You're certainly not."
A sad smile crossed his face. "Not quite, no. But I am alive."
Glinda wasn't convinced. "There's no way. My Fiyero is dead. I was there when the letter came."
He couldn't help but smile at the fact that he still thought of him as 'hers'. Grasping her hands in his gloved ones, he forced her to look at him. "Glinda, I swear to you. I am who I say I am."
She shook her head again. "I don't believe you.
He sighed. "Glinda, the letter was written by my own hand. Did Elphaba actually say I was dead?"
"Not exactly. She said 'we have seen his face for the last time'. Why am I telling you this!?"
Chuckling, he shifted closer. "Test me. Ask me something that only Fiyero would know the answer too."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," she muttered, eyes cast downward. Fiyero bit back the urge to laugh, only watched her as she raised her gaze to his. 'Alright, Master Scarecrow, answer this. All of Oz knew that Fiyero and I were engaged. When was the wedding supposed to take place?"
"We never set a date," he said, never taking his eyes from hers. "I left before we could ever discuss it.'
Seeing her trick question had not fooled him, Glinda quickly tried for another excuse. "Lucky guess. I still-"
"For Oz's sakes, Glinda!" He was getting frustrated fast. "What else do I have to do to convince you that I'm telling the truth. It's me. Fiyero. You've known me for nearly half a decade! I was there when the lies were spread about Elphaba and I was there as we searched for her." He turned back to her, guilt written across his face. "I was there when I made the decision to run away with her. What will it take for you to believe me?"
"I do believe you," came the whispered reply.
It was his turn to be stunned. "What?"
She nodded. "I was your answer just now. The passion in your voice is what convinced me. Fiye-you always did have that passion in your voice when something mattered to you or when you were trying to make a point." She allowed a small smile to creep up her lips. "It was one of the things I loved most about you."
Allowing his arms to drop to his sides, Fiyero came to take a seat next to her on the bed. "I'm glad you believe me," he said as he took her hand. "And I apologize for having to lie to you."
Glinda said nothing, only allowed her gaze to travel over his frame. Sensing her unease, he told he, "It's alright. I don't feel any different," he gave an ironic shrug. "I don't feel much of anything, actually."
She ignored his attempt to lighten the air between them and instead brought her hand to touch his face. "Sweet Oz, Fiyero," Her voice was merely a whisper. "How did this happen?"
He shook his head. "It was Elphaba, actually."
Her eyes immediately widened. "Elphie? No. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't do this to you! She-"
'Glinda!" The price grasped her shoulders in an effort to calm her. "She had too. There was no other way."
"No other way to what?"
"To spare me." A sad smile crossed his face. "Glinda, she saved my life. After I was arrested in the cornfield, the guards were commissioned to beat me until I disclosed Elphaba's location. We both knew that. Lucky for me, the woman works wonders in a short amount of time. If it weren't for Fae," he raised his gaze to meet hers, "I wouldn't be here at all."
Across from him, Glinda smirked. "Fae?"
If he had been able too, the prince would have blushed. Instead, he simply looked away, a sheepish smile crossing his features. "It just seemed to fit."
She said no more on the subject, simply asked. "So when Elphie said that we had seen your face for the last time…"
"She meant my human face," Fiyero finished.
"I wouldn't say it's completely gone." She leaned closer to study him. "Now that I look at you, I can still recognize most of your features. The same nose," she said as she traced it with her fingers. "Same smile, same strong cheekbones…" She smiled up at him. "And those eyes are something I'll remember as long as I live."
The air suddenly seemed thick and Fiyero swallowed the lump in his throat. "Glinda…" he shook his head. "I never meant…I mean, I wasn't…If Elphaba…"
The blonde covered his mouth with her small hand. "We'll talk about it later," she stated. Removing her hand, she hauled herself up into his arms and hugged him tightly.
Fiyero found himself fighting tears as he held his ex-fiancée in his arms, but they were not tears of longing. She had told him they would discuss their past at a later date, and they would, but here, by this small action of acceptance, Glinda had told him the one thing he had needed to know before moving on with his life.
As she held him, Fiyero knew he, both of them, had been forgiven. It was a far cry from the full story.
But for now, it was enough.
We'll catch up with Elphaba in the next chapter! Until then!
