Content Advisory: Unsupportive/Toxic Parenting, Smoking, Profanity, Self-deprecating thoughts

✉ Chapter Fourteen: The Life and Times of Yero ✉

It was a tradeoff he could live with.

Having a private tutor come to the castle three times a week in place of attending college may have been less tolerable if said tutor hadn't already given up on him. Instead, they'd reached an agreement. The tutor now knew better than to assign him anything of substance. He would complete her bullshit lessons and turn the other cheek while she spent their sessions getting high. She would report satisfactory yet believable progress to his parents and get paid up the wazoo for it. Win-win.

"Your assignment is to sign up for that thing," she instructed wearily, waving a dismissive hand as she puffed on her pipe. "That pen pal program. Tell your parents that you're working on your…penmanship…or something."

He agreed and then immediately forgot about it until the first letter came in from Pen Pal #1123. His match was a girl around his age who seemed just as reluctant, if not more so, to be writing at all. That was about all she revealed, and by the sound of it, that was all he was likely to find out.

Alright, Fiyero Tigelaar thought, I can work with this.

He was thankful that he was matched to a girl. He knew how to talk to girls, and how different could writing to one be? In his experience, which was extensive, girls responded to bravery and humor. That was why he asked about fears and included a joke. It was no surprise that in her next letter she confessed to having laughed at his tongue to nose trick. Worked like a charm.

As far as homework assignments went, she wasn't the worst. He supposed reading her letters was more fun than watching the drying of paint, which is what his tutoring sessions had felt like as of late.

I'm sorry you've been made to endure such an insipid tutor.

Fiyero furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar word in a letter of hers and he looked up towards said tutor. "Hey, what does insipid mean?"

He trailed off to see that she had passed out on the table across from him. He sighed and stood, resolving to find the answer himself. After a great deal of effort, he finally found the word in a dictionary he didn't even know they had.

Insipid. Adjective. Without distinctive, interesting, or stimulating qualities; vapid.

Fiyero burst out laughing at the definition, in full agreement with her word choice. Yes, his tutor was insipid. His stranger, on the other hand, who he found quite 'distinctive, interesting, and stimulating', was not.

"Hard at work, are we?"

Fiyero closed the dictionary and turned to see his parents standing in the entrance of the castle library.

"I told you that these lessons weren't worth the cost, Baxiana. There's your proof," Fiyero's father gestured towards the snoring tutor.

"You were right," Fiyero's mother relented defeatedly, her features stained with shame. "I should have known when he was kicked out of Emerald University. Anyone can succeed at Emerald University."

"Your grandfather was a scholar, Fiyero. What would he think of who you've become?" his father shook his head.

"Don't bring grandad into this."

"Stop, Fiyero. Just stop," his mom sighed tiredly. "We've tried everything. School after school, tutor after tutor, and you don't ever make any progress!"

"Don't? Or can't?" his father said coldly.

"Marilott!" his mother scolded his father.

"What? Maybe we need to accept that the boy is simple!" he bellowed before storming out.

Baxiana gave her son one last look before following Marilott out, leaving Fiyero behind feeling empty…empty-headed, at least. Insult to ignorance was added when pen pal gal herself asked him if he was attending college. Not wanting her to catch on to how pathetic he was, he gave her his same old expertly rehearsed song and dance.

In a strong deviation from the status quo…she did not like his song and dance.

'Flippant'. 'Cavalier'. 'Nihilistic'. Who did this girl think she was?! Ranting away to someone she'd never met using smarty-pants words that Fiyero barely understood. The last thing Fiyero needed was another person in his life who thought that he was stupid. He crumpled up her letter and threw it to the bottom of his desk drawer, intending to put her from his mind. Good riddance, stranger. Soon, he'd forget all about her.

But soon did not come soon enough.

Despite his best efforts, her words nagged at him day and night. 'Flippant'. 'Cavalier'. 'Nihilistic'. He couldn't get them out of his head. One day, tired of the mental torment, he grabbed the letter and charged back to the library. If he was going to be insulted, he might as well understand how he was being insulted. With his dictionary beside him, Fiyero picked and probed at her prose. Then, after gaining full context, Fiyero came to a curious conclusion.

She found him dismissive. Dismissive, spoiled, and inconsiderate. However, nowhere in the letter did she imply that he was mindless. Careless, yes. Careless…but not mindless. He'd never been called out like this before; he wasn't sure that he liked it.

He wasn't sure that he didn't.

So, he wrote her back, and in doing so he opened a stitch, a single stitch, of himself up to her.

Her next letter greeted him with an apology and a confession. She feared the dark, feared it to the point of terror. While he couldn't relate to the phobia in itself, the feeling she later elaborated on about feeling choked and out of control was familiar. It sounded exactly like what came over him before he took exams. The feeling that was only soothed by skipping class on test days. The feeling that ultimately led to him flunking out time and time again. The parallel bowled him over. He'd never heard of anyone else going through something like that, albeit by different causes.

Even still, the body of her letter was not what flummoxed Fiyero the most, but rather the post script.

P.S. I may not know you well but I do know one thing. You're not stupid. If you were…you wouldn't be so unhappy.

How did she know? How could she tell? How did she know that he spent his days gallivanting about, bored and directionless? Craving meaning, any meaning, in his life yet unsure of where to find any? Was it because she couldn't see his daily act? If she knew him in person, would she be otherwise convinced? This girl barely existed to him, yet there were her words penned to paper, picking, picking, picking at his seams.

She knew him in a way his dates, his friends, even his parents did not…and she didn't even have a name. She had to be given a name. He was halfway through scribbling his request, but his pen stalled upon realizing he'd have to pick a name for himself too.

"Uh…" he sighed uncertainly. He tapped his pen against his desk before hastily scribbling the word 'Yero'. That was different enough, right?

It's not like they'd ever meet anyway.

When the next letter came, his stranger was a stranger no more.

"Fae…" Fiyero tried the name on his lips.

The name for his someone now revealed to him, his already fragile stitching began to loosen even more. Each detail he collected began to piece her personality together in his mind. She was intelligent, passionate, lonely…yet her face always remained obscured in his mind, as if her lovely figure was cloaked in shadows. He longed for her to emerge, to reveal herself to him, but one day she decided to do the opposite.

She was going to stop writing. To focus on 'college'. Another one bites the dust to school! College had already taken too much from him, he could let it take Fae too.

"Send me to Shiz!" Fiyero exclaimed to his parents as he burst through the door to their private sitting room.

Marilott and Baxiana exchanged glances. "Pardon?"

"Shiz University in Gillikin Country. I haven't been there yet," he breathed heavily.

"Why? Just so you can blow our money on booze and be expelled a few months later?" his father chuckled coldly. "I don't think so."

"This time is going to be different."

"Shiz is rigorous, prestigious! Your grandfather went there! You actually think you'd be able to keep up?" Marilott condescended. "Why do you think we never sent you there before?"

"Son, we practically had to drag you to the other schools. You've made it very clear how much you detest higher education. I'm sorry, Fiyero. I agree with your father," his mother shrugged. "You reap what you sow."

"Listen, I know I didn't put in the effort before. I know I disappointed you. But please, let me at least try," Fiyero pleaded, his voice trailing off faintly. He took a deep breath and looked his father solemnly in the eye. "I want to try."

His parents exchanged a glance, and before the prince knew it, he was on an eastbound train headed towards Shiz University.

Headed towards her.

It was nightfall by the time he'd arrived on campus. He hailed a cart driven by a very zealous driver who had 'never driven a prince before'! Fiyero was recognizable even outside of The Vinkus, he had learned this at his other schools, and if the driver's reception was any indication, it seemed that Shiz would be no different.

Fiyero leaned back and yawned as he was pulled along, stars streaking across the sky above him, and flicked his sunglasses from the top of his head over his eyes. A combination of the time difference and the long day of traveling soon made his eyes grow heavy. His last conscious thought was that he hoped he'd meet Fae soon.

Whack. "Wake up, you!"

A harsh voice startled him out of a light sleep. He squinted over the rim of his sunglasses and his eyes soon adjusted to take in the figure before him. Perhaps Shiz was going to be different from other schools, because before him was a sight he had never seen.

"Am I still asleep or are you actually—"

"Green? Yes, I am. Green as grass, green as sin, green with envy. Ferns, frogs, cabbage—I've heard it all. That's not important. What's important is that your cart almost ran me over!"

Who did she think she was?! Ranting away to someone she'd never met, demanding an apology when he didn't even do anything! Why should he apologize?! He left her behind in the square, intending to put her far from his mind.

Fiyero sent a letter to Fae first thing in the morning and he soon came to know the mail clerks by name as he checked the post office daily, sometimes twice daily, for a response. Fiyero had a one-track mind (which he supposed was better than having no mind at all). Hear from Fae. Find Fae.

However, circumstances outside of his control were distracting him from his mission. From the post office to the square, the green girl he'd met on his first night was as unavoidable as she was unpleasant. It was clear that he wasn't alone in thinking this, either. After a bucket of water, a startling display of magic, and the commotion to end all commotions in the square, Elphaba seemed to have crowned herself the Queen of Antagonism. Fiyero watched as scores of students fled the square in fear of her, she set her sights (and grip) on him.

"And you…don't you dare darken my feet with your shadow until—you—APOLOGIZE!"

The cart! The cart! Let it go! Fiyero had only been a bystander to the cart and the prank—why was she always coming for him?! The girl aggravated and unnerved him; he'd never met someone quite so keen on drawing negative attention to themselves. He could certainly never do that. However, Fiyero soon learned that Elphaba was not the only distraction that Shiz had to offer.

"Are you looking for something…or someone?"

Fiyero was weak, and Galinda Upland came on strong. New campus, new girlfriend. It was what he did. Besides, there wasn't any reason that he shouldn't date somebody. Galinda was pretty and bubbly. What more could he ask for? But when the day came that Fae finally wrote back to him, he began feeling funny about it all. Galinda was perfect on paper, yet he seemed less absorbed in her than the girl who was literally on paper.

Fiyero soon came to realize that, regrettably, his father had not been lying about how difficult Shiz University was. Professors had high standards and low expectations for him as his reputation preceded him. He couldn't help but think they were waiting on him to fail. Fiyero the failure; it had a snappy ring to it at least.

Fiyero wasn't perfect, he still couldn't bring himself to attend class on exam days, but whenever he felt like giving up entirely…he thought of Fae. He could stand to disappoint his professors, Galinda, he could even stand to disappoint his parents yet again. What he couldn't bring himself to do was disappoint Fae.

Fae's writing grew richer and deeper, yet the vision he had of her in his mind's eye remained obscured. Sometimes it felt like she was beckoning to him, as if she wanted to reveal herself as much as he wanted her to, but she remained unwavering in her anonymity. However, as if offering a branch, it was Fae's idea to begin stowing their letters in a tree. Regardless of her secrecy, she still wanted to hear from him. He couldn't get a read on this girl!

It was because of this fact that Fiyero decided to (anonymously) reveal his courtship with Galinda in his next letter. It was partly due to his resignation that Fae would never agree to meet…and partly to see if she'd get jealous. He knew that wasn't the most direct or mature way to find things out, but he was desperate to gauge how Fae felt about him. He wanted to know if she felt the same way.

The drop off spot Fae had picked was perfect, or would have been perfect, if it weren't for the third wheel sleeping in the tree. Elphaba's skin, which may have camouflaged her in the spring, greatly contrasted the autumn foliage as she dozed on a high branch. Fiyero froze at first, not wanting to get caught, but when he was certain that she was sleeping he deftly stashed the letter and began to leave.

Or he intended to, he really did. But Elphaba sleeping in a tree? It wasn't good of him, he knew that, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to antagonize her a little bit. After all, she never passed up the opportunity to antagonize him!

"So, it's okay for you to fall asleep in public but when I do it it's some huge crime!"

In Fiyero's defense, he did break her fall.

As the semester continued, Fiyero's careless nature became easier to fall back into. It was easy to blow off assignments, to drink too much, to skip class. It was what he was good at, especially because his behavior was praised by Galinda and his peers! One person who didn't praise him was, of course, Elphaba Thropp. She never missed a chance to chastise him and rub her own intellect in his face. It was difficult enough for Fiyero to avoid his opponent when she roomed with his girlfriend, but it was damn near impossible when he found himself crammed into a closet with her.

"I do have fun, you know," Elphaba insisted as they made begrudging chit chat. Harp. Bird watching. Soap making.

"Needlepointing?"

"Yes, why?"

"No reason…you…just don't seem the type."

"Well, it's a hidden talent. I'm damn good at it too."

The fact pricked at Fiyero as he recalled one of his earliest letters from Fae. What is your hidden talent? As the pair spoke in hushed tones, Fiyero's vision of Fae seemed to reach a beckoning hand his way from the shadows and his hand twitched forward, only to accidentally brush against Elphaba's.

"You don't really believe in all that, do you?"

"All of what?"

"Love. I don't believe there is any such thing," Fiyero told Elphaba, told himself.

Love couldn't actually be real after all of this time, right? He hadn't found it with Galinda, he hadn't found it with others, so where was it? Could it be between the lines of Fae's writing, or could it be even nearer?

His vision focused on Elphaba through the dim lighting as she arched her brow and smiled, smiled. Elphaba who had dark mysterious eyes, Elphaba who smelled of sage, Elphaba whose eyes crinkled at the edges when she was angry (which was often). Elphaba's whose breath exhaled upon his face. Elphaba whose never kissed lips were parted before him.

Fae moved further into the shadows and his hands fidgeted again. Only this time Fiyero didn't long to reach for his silhouetted Fae…but for Elphaba. The burst of light from the open closet door paused this train of thought, but it did not make it go away. Elphaba bombarded his mind as thoroughly and inescapably as she'd bombarded him in reality.

"Slow and steady. That's how I beat you! Ha! I won! I won! I won!" "Why—why…why don't you care!? Why doesn't anyone care?" "He's frightened of me. All I wanted to do was help." "Or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

Or you wouldn't be so unhappy.

"What did you just say?" Fiyero asked abruptly.

"I said that—"

"Do you know?"

The coincidences were too exact. Had Elphaba found his letters from Fae? Had she read his mind with those powers of hers? Was she tricking him?

"Know what?" Elphaba asked in a confused tone.

"Damn it, Elphaba! If you know then you have to tell me!" It couldn't be. She couldn't be. "Do you—are you—"

Was she Fae?

Then, Elphaba began to leave, indignant over his questioning. No. Fae was already stuck in the shadows, he couldn't let Elphaba pull away too.

So, Fiyero reached for her. He reached for her intentionally, urgently. He reached for Elphaba. He held her hand in his, he laced their fingers. It didn't matter if she was Fae, Fae was words on a page. Elphaba was flesh and blood standing before him, looking as scared as he felt. His hand was in Elphaba's. His eyes met with Elphaba's. His heart burned…for Elphaba.

Then the storm came and washed away everything he thought he knew, thought he felt, about Elphaba Thropp. If he was right in how he felt, it was clear his feelings weren't returned. Perhaps he'd been mistaken in everything, misjudged everything. He was brainless enough to do so, after all.

Dear Fae,

I've had the worst day. I don't know how to explain why without going into too much detail, so I guess I'll say that sometimes people aren't who you think they are. Sometimes you're pretty sure you can tell how someone is feeling and then you find out you're totally wrong.

Anxious to put Elphaba as far away from his mind as possible, he turned his attention fully back to Fae. As they danced around the matters of romance and sex, his last surviving stitches popped and burst at the seams and his heart spilled out to her like straw from a scarecrow. All the while the question between them remained. If love existed, were they in it? Fiyero thought that perhaps they were, but something was missing. However, it was too late to turn back now. He had invested too much of himself. Fae was all he had.

Dear Fae,

I want to meet you.

Fiyero smoked three cigarettes before going to the café that day to steady his nerves. 'Discord and Discontent', that was the book he was looking for, with a red poppy as a bookmark. He'd even checked out the book for himself and was trying in vain to read it so they'd have something to talk about when they met. As he pushed the door open a green blur nearly collided into him.

Elphaba looked up at him with a shaken expression before pushing past him. He watched her leave and considered ditching Fae to go after her, but Elphaba had made her choice. She chose to distance herself from him, so he turned all of his hopes into Fae.

But it seemed that Elphaba wasn't the only one avoiding him. He'd waited for two hours. No book, no poppy, no Fae. She sent an apology, but it didn't quell Fiyero's desire to meet her. He needed this to work out…he just needed this to work out.

So, a party was arranged, a time and place were set, and Fiyero finally freed Galinda from the hook he'd unfairly kept her on. She didn't deserve it, she never had. But as he had confessed to Elphaba…he was in love with somebody else.

If only he could figure out who.

Fiyero took a long drag on his final cigarette as he eyed the clock on the wall, hoping against hope that Fae was everything he needed her to be. But the only ones to emerge from the OzDust were Galinda and Elphaba in an apparent argument. No, not now! He couldn't have them here, especially not Elphaba, not when he was about to meet Fae.

However, as the clock struck eight, Fae at last revealed herself from those shadows…and Fiyero had known her all along.

"You?" Fiyero gazed upon Elphaba. "You're…you're…"

Elphaba was Fae, his Fae. His Elphaba.

He knew it! He knew it, he knew it, he knew it!

Elphaba began to argue with him, and Fiyero argued back, but it didn't matter. This is what Elphaba did, what they did, and it was how he'd come to know her.

It was how he'd come to love her.

Yes! Everything fit now, and Fiyero felt a great sense of relief even as they quarreled, for he had finally unraveled his great riddle. He had loved Fae, but if she had been revealed to be anyone else in Oz it wouldn't have been right.

It wouldn't have been Elphaba.

As Elphaba ran from him that night, Fiyero didn't despair, but he knew that he had a job to do. He had to convince her how he felt, and knowing her as well as he did, he knew that it would be an uphill climb. However, as he watched her run, he felt something deep down that he knew to be true.

She loves me, Fiyero Tigelaar understood. She loves me too.