The loud ring of alarms. The kind that sing right into your bones sending you a cold chill even when your brain finally registers what is going on.
Lock down. The whole school was on lock down. Waiting for a fugitive to arrive. The one he knew wouldn't show. Not now at least. Students rushed about, a loud commotion like he had never seen, shouting at each other over the blaring alarms. Professors scrambled among them - shouting, ushering, directing students inside. Fear rippled through the campus like aftershocks of an earthquake. The big kind. The kind that shook your world apart.
It was the sight Fiyero witnessed from the window of his private suite high above the campus ground. The screaming and shouting. People ducking and scanning the sky as if she would fly in at any moment. And Oz he wished she would.
The announcement came over a loudspeaker, the alarms immediately after. The frenzy soon followed.
He could hear the pounding of feet down the hall while students yelled to each other. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short and shallow. It was too outlandish. Too absurd and too irrational to be true. Yet, his fellow peers seemed to think otherwise. His feet drew him to the door where he watched the parading bodies fly by. He didn't know where he was going, or who he needed to see, but his body wouldn't let him stay inside by himself. He couldn't. His feet, having a mind of their own, took him further out into the hall. People pushed passed him, shoving by as he watched in disbelief. Could this really be true? No. And if so, did they really believe it? Yes.
"I knew there was something off about her." Fiyero's head whipped around seeing two faces he vaguely recognized as boys who lived on his floor. "We all did. Yet we all just stood by and pretended she wasn't destructive. That green bitch."
In that moment, he snapped. In one stride he had the boy pinned up against the wall, eyes blazing in anger, hurt, and … was it doubt? No. They were misled. Not him.
"What the hell man?" The boy's friend tried shoving the Winkie off but to no avail.
"It's ok." The boy under Fiyero's arms assured, then turned his attention back to his aggressor. "She played you too, man. It's not your fault." Fiyero was taken aback. The boy sympathized with him? How was he a victim in this? Fiyero's eyes flashed from eye to eye of the boy in front of him, searching. For what, he didn't know. Slowly, he loosened his grip and the young scholar gradually detached himself from the prince. The two boys watched him in silence before making their leave.
"Take care of yourself Fiyero. I can't imagine what she's done to you."
"Stay safe, man."
The two then disappeared into the mess of people in the hall. Staring at the wall, he felt the air of people passing him by. He barely registered when someone pushed into him. Instead, he fixated on the spot in front of him. Urging his brain to comprehend what was happening. A witch. Of course, everyone knew that. But a wicked witch? Was it really true? Everyone seemed to see something he didn't? No. He knew her. Everyone else had judged her based off social standings, or rumors, or a rare brief encounter. And to be fair, she was a bit rough around the edges. But he knew her. He understood her. He had taken the time and seen her for who she really was.
For a moment, her smile flashed through his mind. A smile he had felt privileged to see, knowing he was one of the few who got to see her like that. They bantered together. Laughed together. He let her see him as much as he got to see her. Both sharing the parts of each other that no one else got to see. No. No, they were wrong. But who would do this? How did this happen? Were there people who were actually this cruel? He had seen their taunts and laughter at her expense plenty of times. But to take it to this level? What. Happened.
He didn't understand.
He followed his feet as they took him past the upcoming crowd. It appeared the gender code didn't apply in the moment as girls grasped onto their friends and lover's hands racing inside their dorms.
He found himself outside in the bellowing, open quads of the university in the midst of the chaotic frenzy of students rushing by. It all felt so surreal. He ran a hand through his hair and grasped at the locks as frustration pulsed through his veins. Campus security and local police were now filing in. The shouting voices of the nearby professors caught his attention.
"If you are to see the Witch, report to your Building Head immediately. They will have further instructions on what to do!"
"Do not approach the Witch! She is considered armed and dangerous!"
The Witch? Fiyero's jaw opened again. These were professors. Her professors. They knew her name, knew her well, and even favored her. They talked to her. Debated with her. Listened to her. Yet here they stood, so quick to turn against her and so readily willing to ignore her name. Belittling her down to something she wasn't. Her name. Fiyero paused. Had they taken away her name? Would people know Elphaba Thropp no more?
Fiyero shook his head, eyes wide as familiar thoughts echoed his head. How? Why?
Regaining some control over his body, he made his way to the familiar blue brick building he frequented more times than he could say. Girls swished past him screaming and calling their friend's names. Some of the Amas hollered and waved to them in efforts to claim some sort of semblance of control.
No one questioned him. Most didn't seem to have the time or effort too. Though a few spared him a pitied look before scurrying off to their corners. It was no secret the bond between Fiyero shared with the two girls. They were always together.
In surreal wonder, he placed his hands softly on the wood of the door. Room 22 of the second floor. He had been here so many times, but now it just felt … different. Empty. Sacred and scarred. Like he was here for the first time, except he already knew what was inside. At some point in his pondering state, he lost control of his body again. His hands twisting the doorknob on their own accord, before shoving into it when it didn't budge. When he finally realized what he was doing, he pushed harder. Pushing himself into the door with a new fervor. When the door finally gave way, he stood staring at the gap between him and what lay behind the parted doorway. Now that it was open, he wasn't so sure he could go in.
"Fiyero?"
"Fiyero, what are you doing?" He didn't answer.
The pit in his stomach deepened. An emotion he couldn't quite name washed over him like an angry wave of the sea. He looked up. Whoever stopped to call him was gone. Good. No one needed to be here.
In a one quick sweep, he made his way inside before finding something to bar the door. Now that the handle was broken and anyone could come in, he didn't want to think of what people would do with access to this room.
Slowly, he turned.
It used to amuse him when he would walk in; the drastic difference each side of the room held.
Now it just made him sick.
His throat tightened. Each step he took felt heavier than the last. He stood there, taking in the room. His legs took him to the left side. The darker, much neater side of the room. His feet stumbled over some books on the ground. As he edged closer, he noted just how much it smelled like her. The breath in his lungs reached up and grasped tightly on to his throat. In a struggled release, he staggered down, clasping the blankets as his knees hit the ground. It was then the prince gave in to the overpowering emotion, feeling his shoulders throb and convulse.
No. This wasn't some cruel joke by some school bully. Or those silly little rumors you could toss over your shoulder. Not a dream to wake up from. Or a story so easily overcome. No, it was bigger. And it was worse. Worse than imaginable. It was real. Real. Reality in its most genuine existence. Still, his mantra flowed. How? How did she get here? A fugitive of the law? On the run with nowhere to go?
He wondered where she went. Where she was now. Did she have a plan? How would she problem solve her way out of this one?
Fiyero shifted, leaning his head back on the bed. His cloudy eyes looking to the bed across from him. It was only then that a new thought crossed his mind. Galinda. Of course, some part of him registered her as well in all this. But his priorities were focus on the one currently being hunted by society.
Galinda.
There was no mention of her in any of the news. She had gone with her. What happened that could affect one so drastically and not the other?
He should have gone with them. He had wanted to, but it wasn't exactly his place either.
And now they both were gone.
He laid there, lost in his thoughts until the room grew dark around him. He had no will to get up, turn on the lights or adjust his position.
His girls, lost to the world and not a way for him to get in contact with them. He didn't even know the hotel they were at to write to.
His thoughts wandered back to Galinda. There was no way she would stay in the city…right? Would she be arriving soon? It had been early afternoon went everything flipped upside down. The city was only a few hours of a train ride away, and evening was already beginning to darken the sky. Was she even coming back? Was she alright? He could only imagine how lost and scared she must be. If she didn't come home tonight, he'd make his way over tomorrow. He'd have to. Lynnie wasn't as strong as Fae. Not nearly as independent, and she tended not to do too well on her own.
Breathing in deeply, his mind brought him back to the room in front of him. His head turned, following that smell that had haunted him these past few weeks. It smelt of dark woods, sweet neroli, black plum, and something else he could quite name. It smelt of her. Mustering what strength he could find in his now weak body, Fiyero slowly crawled up until he was fully on her bed. Surrounded in her pillows he closed his eyes until he emersed himself in thoughts of her.
Mutilation of monkeys? That was against the code of her whole being. A misunderstanding. Surely the Wonderful Wizard of Oz in all his wonderfulness would be willing to hear her out. Find her. He would just have to find her, take her to him, and sort it all out. He was a prince. There had to be some sort of leverage he could use.
Eventually, he rolled to his side pulling one of the dark pillows to him. A touch of cold brought him out of his reveries. He pulled back to find the source. There laying limply on his wrist, a cold bottle of green liquid lay bubbling up at him. At first, he thought it might have been a potion bottle left and forgotten amongst the soft bedding. He could picture her now, bent over a book practicing spell after spell, coming up with new concoctions of her own to test. A nauseous twist in his stomach grew as remembered the depictions of her spread by his fellow scholars past these walls. If only the walls could talk.
The prince twisted the bottle in his hands, watching it bubble from top to bottom, bottom to top. As if echoing from somewhere deep in his mind he remembered the story she shared with him those few weeks ago. It was a moment he treasured so deeply. A moment when she had opened up to him. Without him having to ask or coax it out of her. A moment that told him she trusted him.
With a solemn vow, he pocketed it, with the fullest determination that at some point he would find her and give it back to her. Her one possession in this world that meant the most to her. As far as he was aware at least.
Darkness threatened to overtake the room. Yet he couldn't find the strength to move.
A shuffling towards the door caught his attention. He hadn't even noticed them come in.
"Fiyero?"
Her voice was so soft it sounded weak. He could barely make out the golden curls as the darkness wrapped itself around them. He opened his mouth to speak, but found nothing came. One. Two. Three cries broke through the lightless room. He caught her as she collapsed into heaving sobs on the ground.
"Lynnie…"
The sobbing girl's only answer were her tears.
He held her. Holding back tears and fears of his own. She was traumatized, he could tell that much. And he wasn't about to press her. She'd talk. When she was ready. So he held her. Hours or minutes went by. Unsure of how much more he could take but unwilling to push her for information. So instead, he asked softly.
"Galinda. What happened?" It was barely audible. But the restlessness in his chest was on the verge of making him panic.
It took some time. The heaves from the blonde witch's tears gradually softened, taking in deep breaths in between the convulsions in her chest. Sniffling, she leaned back. Unable to look him in the eye, she stared out the now blue-black sky through their window. Silence overtook them.
"It was a trap." She spoke softly. As if the secret would damn them both to Kumbricia's wrath. She took a deep, shaky breath before trying to find the courage to explain the mystery she was still coming to terms with as her reality.
"The Wizard he…Oh Fiyero." He watched as she tried her hardest to recompose herself. "Fiyero he… I don't know. … Morrible met us there."
"What in Oz name was Horrible Morrible doing there?"
"Fiyero… it all seemed so perfectly wonderful at first."
Fiyero didn't know what to say. He listened to the young witch as she retold the terrors of the last twelve hours. It was as baffling as when he first heard the news of a wicked witch just those few hours ago.
"Where? Where did she go? Do you know?"
The silhouette of her blonde waves shook in front of him.
"Oh Galinda…" The prince wrapped his arms around her sobbing frame until she cooled again. He pressed soft reassuring kisses against her head.
"There's more."
"Oh?"
"The Wizard, and… Morrible, they offered me her spot. Well, in title really. Morrible knows I'm no match to Elphie." She brushed away the straggling tears. "They told me that Oz would need a new figure head now. Someone to provide hope and peace, and-and-and encouragement. She said I was good at that. I am. They said I would hence be known as Glinda the Good. Officially."
Fiyero scoffed. Through the darkness, he could just make out the snap of her eyes to him, an unmistakable flare to them.
"You… you didn't take it though, right?"
"What was I to do-"
"Oh Galinda."
"Stop calling me that!" The young woman flared, her defenses rising. "It's Glinda now. Glinda."
He paused at the memory. He had forgotten. He hadn't thought her serious when she told him at the time. "The Good."
"Yes." She bit back. "She's gone. That girl doesn't live here anymore. She's evolved."
"Into this?"
"Into me."
He hesitated, searching her face in the dark for what lied beneath her indignation.
"No, she's not. She's right here." He tilted her face towards him and brushed a stray lock behind her ear. "And she's scared. And possibly feeling alone? But you're not alone Lynnie. Ok? I'm right here. We are going to get through this together. We'll think of something." He placed a soft kiss upon her crown.
"We're the only ones who know, Fiyero. How do we get out of this one?"
"I don't know." He whispered against her head.
Fiyero could feel the sting of his eyes begging him to head to bed. The night had found him perched on the outlet of his window like a dog on lookout. As a hunter, his body was trained for this. But the events of the day had already taken a big enough toll on him. He didn't know what to expect. A large part of him knew she wouldn't dare show up here, not with all of Oz on the watch, let alone the dense amount of security on property now. But another part of him questioned if she would. After all, she hadn't exactly been prepared to become a fugitive upon meeting the Wizard. Surely there was something she would need. If only he had a way to contact her. Briefly he wondered if she would find him or Ga – Glinda for assistance. He shook his head at the thought before it even ended. He knew her better than to think she would risk them getting caught with her. That is ultimately what got her into this mess… Her incessant need to take care of others.
The prince sighed. Deeply. Still, he couldn't remove himself from the windowpane that overlooked the way to Crage Hall. He couldn't take the risk of losing the small chance of seeing her. He could sleep in the morning. No way would she risk it then.
Lost in the wee hours of the morning, he wasn't sure if the soft knock on his door was only a figment of his delirium. Eyes searched for a sign from the gap at the bottom of the door, but the darkness kept its secrets hidden. His breath caught in his throat as his experienced ears heard the faint sound came again.
No. She wouldn't risk coming to him from his front door, right? Not now with the school on high alert. But on the other hand, he had seen her cast some of the most powerful charms he had ever seen. Of course, he wasn't sure what kind of charms could help her navigate going unseen to the forefront of his room. Then again, he knew better than to underestimate the talents of Elphaba Thropp.
His legs brought him to the door in a few quick strides, thankful once again for his training that he could do so quietly. He almost snatched her to him before the sight of tired blue eyes and brushed back blonde waves stopped him.
"Glinda?" He opened the door wider with more composed ease.
"Hi." Her voice broke as she held back the emotion that threatened to undo her once more. "I don't think I can sleep in my room tonight."
"No, of course not. Come here Lynnie." She did so, gratefully as Fiyero wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him as her body rocked with deep sobs.
"Shh. Shh Shh." He led her to the bed where he gently placed her down. She curled in his sheets as he sat by her. Tucking her in with a gentle kiss to her forehead. Studying her face, he wiped away tears as they fell until he felt her calming once more. He rubbed her forehead, his hand gliding back to meet with the golden tresses of hair she had tied up with a band. "It's ok Lynnie. She's ok." A lie. But one they both knew she needed to hear.
Stiffly she nodded into the sheet she had wrapped halfway around her face. Her eyes fluttered close and soon her breathing started to even out. He noted how her breath, even in slumber, held a solemn sadness to it too.
Releasing himself from her grasp, he started back to the window. The soft sounds of her breaths echoing through the room.
"Are you going to lay down too?" Fiyero looked down at her puffy face, caked with salty tears. Her eyes were so red he knew they had to have been stinging. Slowly he nodded, relishing in the fact that he could look after one of his girls tonight.
"Of course."
With that, he pulled himself across from her, nestling himself amongst the pillows. Arms holding her tight as she burrowed herself into his chest. His hands resuming their soothing pattern against her forehead. Eyes trained on the window ahead of him.
He heard the 'how's', he heard the 'why's', but still the mantra in his head rang. Sure, she pushed people away with her rough exterior. That mouth of hers got her into trouble plenty of times. But a Wicked Witch?
Fiyero looked down at the woman in his arms. Her hand clung to his shirt like her life absolutely depended on him. Her brow furrowed in her sleep like she was praying to wake up from this impossible nightmare. She had looked at him, eyes begging for answers that day. He had none. No, he wasn't sure how they'd get through this one. But Glinda was more than just charms and looks. Perhaps she'd be the one to find their way through this.
Her breaths slowed and rang in soft, assuring him she was asleep. Gently, he placed her down and returned to his post at the window. Hoping and praying to find any glimpse of her in the moonlight. He knew it was a hopeless prayer. Elphaba was smarter than to return to where they expected her the most. Below him, security roamed the campus floors on heightened edge. Extra security was placed outside Crage hall. It was a wonder how Glinda even got through.
When the sky began to awaken, he knew his chances were over. Even knowing she wouldn't show didn't stop that small piece of hope he grasped onto to collapse his very soul. He would try again tomorrow night. And the next night. And the next.
Weary and exhausted, Fiyero surrendered to the fight and turned his back upon the glassy pane. The dim blue of the sky barely offered enough light on the curled form of the sleeping beauty in his bed. A new hope seemed to fuel in him as he made his way to her. Wrapping her in his arms, he nuzzled his head against her soft hair. The smell of sweet florals and vanilla flooded his senses. A bittersweet contrast to the darker floral aroma he had so longed to breathe again.
Whatever scenario he had hoped to figure out between what he wanted and what he had would have to wait. She needed him.
As he did her.
Thank you for reading! This is only a Two-shot but the next chapter will be up soon.