Two days had turned since Oz had found its newest villain. Two painfully long days, and two even longer nights. Nights he continued to endure at his window examining the blue stony walls of Crage Hall. Any desire of finding a shadowy figure in the moonlight had left that first night as swiftly as she did. Now he watched, lost in his own reflections and speculations, allowing it to fuel his rational side for some sort of solution. He was a prince. And princes were supposed to problem solve. The problem was that he wasn't so sure where to start. He still needed answers.

Nessarose had taken an indefinite leave of absence given the current circumstances. She was gone by first light the following morning. Fled in embarrassment to escape any questions. Perhaps a visit to Munchinkland, province leader to province leader, would aid his case. A portrayal of sympathies and concerns. Maybe she skipped her hallowed hole at Shiz and ventured straight to the plains of Colwen Grounds. Maybe she wouldn't dare to face the calamitous force of her father. Maybe she would for the hope of getting through to her sister.

A bleak darkness surrounded the arduous nights that tolerated his back-and-forth thoughts.

He started the day the way he did the past couple - sleeping once the sky began to tantalize the mere idea of sunlight, secluding to himself and only leaving to check in on the last half of the duo that was left behind, Glinda. He walked with purpose, a fervency to his steps, so as to block out what new slander the crowds had come up with now. Stories came in fast, conjuring narratives of her "terrors" of today that paralleled "secret terrors" of her past. When anyone stopped to ask him his thoughts, opinions, or stories of his own, he answered honestly. Which left most dumbfounded and skeptical.

"He really is the Brainless Prince." He heard one say.

"Stop that! He was just mislead!" Another would shush.

"How nice he was to tolerate her to begin with. Shows character. Probably just giving the benefit of the doubt."

"Or magicked."

Fiyero scoffed. The urgency in his steps heightened so much so that he was practically stomping his way to Crage Hall.

Don't you know who you look like?

He used to chuckle when he would look up to see her, arms full of bags and books, stamping her way through the campus. His stomach twisted at the thought of it now. What she must have heard to step like that.

He entered Room 22 with hasty relief only to find himself alone. The air was so still and so heavy it felt like the room itself was holding its breath. It seemed he was too. He tended to be doing a lot of that lately. He hadn't been alone in this room since Glinda's return. He placed down the cups of coffee he brought with him, letting himself absorb into the room.

Looking at her belongings, he realized now what had happened.

Elphaba had died.

Her study desk left in an organized mess, waiting for her return. A quill laid haphazardly along the top of it, offering its use. Blissfully unaware that its owner would not be returning. It all was. Her bed, made and ready in anticipation, as was her closet full of clothes. The trunk at the end of her bed. Shoes. Books and tomes of various sizes. The nearly finished candle by her bedside table.

She was supposed to come back.

The room screamed of it.

"Oh, it's you." Glinda started as she closed the door, startled at the sight of him.

"Coffee?" He offered taking her in. Her apparel was casually chic, and her make up light. Her blonde curls had yet to make their return. Instead, the soft waves were pulled back into a band atop her head.

Glinda dabbed the pink puffy bags of her eyes and nodded, taking the cup he offered out. Fiyero pulled her to him, feeling her tired frame sulk into his.

"I couldn't take it in here anymore." Glinda muffled into his arm. "I just had to get out. Too many people stopping by with their pity and merciless remarks. If I'm not trapped in here with them, I'm trapped in here with her." She gestured toward the vacant side of the room.

"You know you're always welcome to my place. I don't have a vanity but I'm sure you'd find a way to fix that." They chuckled into each other. "I just don't want you to feel like you're trapped here."

Glinda said nothing but shifted her head to peer up at him through her doe-like eyes. Pushing up on the tops of her toes, she planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"How are you today?"

She shrugged removing herself from him. He watched as she made her way to the aforementioned vanity table. Something was wrong. Something was off about her today, more than just the obvious. She had barely made eye contact with him since she arrived.

"Lyn. What is it?" he whispered. She shook her head and gestured around her as if to say just this.

"Come on, Lynnie. Its just me." He watched her for a minute before adding, "It might be good to talk through what we're feeling. We only have each other right now."

Glinda sighed and turned her attention to the window.

"I'm just so mad." She whispered.

"I know."

"No." She swallowed, gaining the courage to continue. "I'm mad at her."

The prince cocked his head.

"It was just so reckless!" Her admission a whispered jab. "She just left me there. She didn't think, she just reacted."

"It sounds like she didn't have much time to think her whole plan through."

"No. But…who does that? Who just … I guess I mean, how could she do that." Her blue eyes turned back to find his. "How does she just give it all up? In a moment?" her voice was softer and full of awe.

Fiyero didn't know what to say. It amazed him too. How she could just give up everything without even thinking. He certainly couldn't. If he did, it would take him a lot of time to think that decision through. And he couldn't even tell her how much he revered her for it.

"That's Elphaba."

Silence fell on them like a warm blanket.

"I guess, in some ways," the young woman began after some time, "I just feel… abandoned."

Fiyero tried to understand. "Abandoned?"

Glinda offered a timid nod looking at her hands. "I need her too. She's my best friend. We had plans! We were in this together. She didn't even want to study sorcery to begin with!" The chair squeaked against her soft gestures. "Now I'm responsible for cleaning up this mess. To be the face of encouragement. All while trying to figure out if she's ok, how to protect her, how to protect you – I mean you're in this too now!" Her throat choked.

"You don't have to worry about me Lynnie." Fiyero knelt at her side, brushing away the few fallen tears. "And you don't have to do any of this if you don't want you."

"It's the only way I know she's safe." She whispered.

"May I ask, what did you expect her to do?"

"I don't know." She thought for a moment. "I don't know. I just, feel… left behind."

"Would you go with her now? If she asked you again?"

Slowly, she shook her head.

"You can't blame her for being her, Glinda."

"I know."

"You know I don't resent her right?" Glinda asked as they laid in bed that night.

"Of course I do." Fiyero kissed her head in assurance.

"I'm just so worried." She whispered back.

"You're grieving." The room grew silent as she took in his words. "Your anger is normal."

"Are you angry too?" Her fingers traced patterns on his chest. He nodded against her head.

"Maybe not at her. But in other ways."

Her gentle curls rustled against him. Of course he was angry. How dare they do this to her. After all she had sacrificed and the work she put in to be there. He blamed the Animal Banns that took her away from him. The audacity of it all, they never should have happened to begin with. All stemming from a brainless man, atop a throne, that so recklessly created villains. So yes, he was angry. Angry at the Wizard. Angry at Morrible. Angry at the population of Shiz who knew her to begin with yet taunted and succumbed to the idle talk that roamed their sacred halls. Angry at himself. He was a political figure too. How could he not see the signs? The Vinkus never conformed to the patterns of the Wizard or modern Oz, holding herself steadfast to her individualistic ways. But still, had he bothered to take the time to invest in the going-ons in the rest of Oz, maybe he would have noticed some sort of sign. Anything to warn her of what she might be getting into. Although there was still the promise of working side by side with his Supreme Ozness. Sure the Wizard was wonderful and grandiose to behold, but maybe, just maybe, he could have persuaded her to work for the Vinkus instead.

Fiyero sighed, listening to the rhythm of breath from the woman he held in his arms. He couldn't tell if she was asleep or lost in thoughts of her own.

Either way, it comforted him to know neither was in this alone. Adjusting his head against her, his eyes directed their nightly draw to his bedside window. Feeling the familiar rise of determination grow within him as he stared in the direction of Crage Hall.

There was a plan outside those glossy panes, he just needed to find it.

Fiyero hadn't heard Glinda's response to her fellow devotees until well into the following week. In the beginning, when people asked him about his experience with the defamed green girl, he spoke authentically in hopes to encourage others to speak up as well. He wasn't the only one to get along with the mysterious emerald lady. They had their Charmed Circle, as well as a few other scholars in classes that enjoyed a conversation or two with her. Where were they now? Cowards. Yet he wondered if was because they cowered away from her, succumbing to the allegations of said witch, or if it was because of what others would say if they spoke their truths as well.

Lately however, no one asked him of any sentiment towards her. He rarely gave them any opportunity preferring the company of himself to the boasting social life he once had.

So, he wasn't sure how Glinda had been handling all of the people who came flocking to her side. He didn't ask. She was emotionally exerted as it was, and when they were together, they began to find rest in their silences, comfortable in the safety of each other. They tried not to focus on the deprecation of their social interactions, trusting the other to handle it however they deemed necessary.

What he hadn't expected was for her to go along with it.

"Don't talk to me right now Glin." The prince stormed off the marbled steps of the Hall.

"Fiyero-"

"No. How could you do it? She's your friend Glin. Your Best Friend. And you just stand there, and you take it. You let them talk to you like that?"

"Fiyero. They wouldn't believe me if I did say something."

"You know she would do it for you! You know she wouldn't take any of this if it were you. You know that she would be out there yelling, kicking and screaming until she proved your innocence." His blue eyes glared into her opal ones. He shook his head. "Don't talk to me right now Glinda." With a quick swing of his shoulder, Fiyero began his leave.

"Miss Glinda! We just wanted to say we are so sorry for what happened. I can't imagine what you've been through. It must have been a horrible ordeal." A group of passerby-ers stopped him in his tracks. Fiyero half turned to listen.

"Yes. It… it was. Thank you." And she meant it.

"I can't believe they ever let you room with her. The danger you must have been in this whole time, and you just had to put up with it." Glinda looked back towards the prince. She didn't reply but gave her company a small, sad smile she hoped would suffice.

The look of betrayal in Fiyero's eyes was enough to almost shatter her mask. Almost.

"No." Fiyero's eyes bore into hers. "She wasn't. She wasn't."

Glinda watched as he marched away, the voices of concern fading out around her.

She found him later towards the grassy edges of Suicide Canal. He stood, arms crossed, and eyes lost in the currant.

"I am not the villain here Fiyero."

"No." He replied softly. "Neither is she." He broke his trance to look at her. "I'm sorry Lynnie. You are quite brave." While he didn't agree with her methods, he knew she was just as broken by all this as he. And stubborn as he felt about speaking out, he knew it was too late for that anyway. Anything they would say would have them arrested for treason. Maybe there was a small opening when the news first broke, they could have tried to save her name. But whether that opportunity was once there or not, it was too late for it now.

It had shocked him was all. He hadn't heard her go along with those kinds of words since he had first arrived at Shiz. Receiving her martyred concerns for horrid luck of a roomie. Playing the victim. And even then, he could tell she was holding back, sometimes to impress him, sometimes to be thy goodlyself. Galinda the Good, who took in the intolerable green girl and never had a bad word to say about it, except to her selected few. It was like tasting a bad memory. He watched her, playing her part like she did before, albeit for different reasons than before. He just wasn't so sure he could play his.

When they handed him his Gale Force Uniform, he took it with pride. Not for them. For her. For what it meant to find her. For him. His emerald coat: a key. A means to an end.

He had watched Glinda use her place of power to her benefit. From Shiz to now, she played the game in secret defiance. Perhaps it wasn't too hard to play the game once you knew the role to play.

He knew she would be the one to get them out of this.

"Fiyero, what if you never find her?" Glinda's tear rimmed eyes watched as he dressed himself in preparation for his ceremony.

"Not an option."

"Fiyero. What if she doesn't want to be found?"

"I don't accept."

Her blue eyes searched him.

"I won't accept not having her back."

Glinda nodded and shut the door behind her.

"I won't accept not having her in my life."

He'd find her. He'd make sure of that.

He wouldn't accept any other choice.

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my lil two-shot! I'd love to know what you thought. :)