Fiyero woke the next day on a Goosefeather mattress. He was in an elegantly furnished room: decorated in white and embellished in a deep sapphire hue. The false sun shone through the windows brightly. Fiyero groaned, for it wasn't the sun that had woken him up. No, it was the Galinda girl who had crawled into his bed (Unnamed God knows how) and was curled around his blood striped arm.
The previous day's came rushing back to him. Fiyero spent a long time in attempt to convince himself this was only a bad dream. But it was written in red upon his arm. Fiyero winced, and stumbled out of the room. He noted that he was wearing syntheticsilk pajamas, but pushed away the fact he did not recall putting them on himself.
Sleepily, Fiyero staggered out into a grand circular room, with a large domed roof several stories overhead. The last three stories were covered in books, which seemed to spiral into oblivion. To Fiyero, these books looked rather boring. After all, he couldn't read.
"Good morning" crooned Frex from a plush, red velveteen chair. Fiyero scowled. "Where am I?" He paused, and added, "Where's the injured girl?"
Frex's large watery eyes reminded Fiyero of large, skinned grapes. They glittered beautifully, and seemed to inhale the light that filtered down from the skylight. He chuckled softly. "She's being taken care of." He approached Fiyero, his skin so white it showed in detail the designs of bloodflow under his skin. He took a moment to examine Fiyero, scattering a few "Mhm"s here, and some "Yes, very good"s there.
"Yes, I think you'll do just fine!" Frex grinned.
"For what?" Fiyero cocked his head.
"Why, didn't the guards tell you, son?"
"You're his slave." It was a female voice that floated down from the skylight. It was a harsh, cold voice that seemed to jab at the air. "You were hoodwinked." Fiyero caught a glimpse of a figure running across the spiraling balcony, and craned his neck.
"Dear" Frex hissed. The figure moved swiftly, and soon the door opened behind Fiyero. He began to turn, but Frex held him back.
"You'll spend the rest of your life here." The woman (Girl?) continued behind him. He could feel her eyes on his back. "You're better off here than anywhere else in the Badlands. We'll treat you well. Tend to your sickness, should you fall ill. We'll feed you regularly, and we do our best to refrain from punishment."
He could almost feel her breath curl off his neck. Her presence was harsh and serrated.
"Most of your friends will die of exhaustion, illness, or injury within the first two years of service"
With each word, Fiyero winced, and felt more nauseated. His head began to pound, and his palms sweat.
"Then the owners will just go to Market and buy new Runes, because that's what you are to them. Inhuman and replaceable. Possessions for trade. Breakable. You're cattle. Nothing. You're less than shit."
Fiyero now found himself holding his breath, as if against his will. The girl's rage was calm, but seemed to tear a hole in the air.
"Elphaba!" Frex's translucent skin tinged itself red. He shook with apparent rage. His words came out with a slow, controlled strain. "You. Are. Dismissed"
"Yes, Father" The voice was steady, cold. There was a chill as the presence left. Fiyero couldn't resist turning, but caught only a wisp of pin straight hair the color of ebony leaving the doorway. He began to chase after her, but Frex's brittle hand caught his arm. Fingernails dug into his flesh.
"Stay." He hissed. But the man caught himself, and gathered his thoughts, returning to his usual sleaze.
"You are to be dressed in uniform. You'll find it layed out on your bed. If you wish to visit your injured friend, you may take the hall to the left. First door on the right."
Fiyero nodded, and began to exit.
"Oh, nonononono. That won't do" Frex scolded. "You must wait until dismissed." He paused, and Fiyero shot him a cynical look. "You are dismissed."
Fiyero frowned.
The girl looked considerably better. Fiyero knew the medicine of those in the Badland oases was good, but was shocked at the advancement. Her normally dark skin was soft and pale, and the pinkness of her cheeks seemed almost obscene. Fiyero thought to the golden confection of Galinda, and knew this girl could not compare. Her dark hair was anything but exceptional, and her face so dammed mouselike.
Fiyero found himself lost in lustful thought, and did not notice the girl's brown eyes open.
"What's your name?" Her voice was shaky and weak.
"Fiyero" he replied, perhaps too harshly. The girl began to cry.
"No, no. I'm sorry. I'm not angry" Fiyero explained. The girl continued to weep.
"It's not that" She squeaked.
"What is it, then?" Fiyero asked, wondering if the girl had realized the grim situation they found themselves in. Perhaps she was homesick.
The girl looked up weakly. Tears streamed from her brown eyes. "I can't move my legs." She sobbed into the pillow. "I can't even feel them"
Fiyero stroked the girl's hair. "Shhhhh." He crooned softly. He held her hand, small. "What's your name?"
She looked up with large, watering eyes, choking on her words.
"My name is Nessarose"
A/n: Sorry. School's sucking my life away, and I've had rehearsals.
Uh, any suggestions are welcome!
Thanks!
