A/N: Happy Halloween and Happy (belated) 19th anniversary of Wicked!

Content Advisory: Implied Depression


Chapter Twenty-Three: The Message

It hit the newspapers first, but Fiyero didn't read the newspapers. It didn't take long for word to reach his ear, however, for while journalists worked hard, gossips worked harder.

Words like 'fugitive,' 'marauder,' and 'wicked witch' circulated about the campus but the whispers were not in the usual tone of mirth, but rather fear. No one approached him, not directly at least, but the side glances and whispered asides had increased a noticeable amount.

It took a newspaper being anonymously pinned to his door for him to finally see it with his own eyes.

She made the front page.

A grotesque headline and blurry photo heralded her as Oz's new Public Enemy Number One. Slanderous details of dark witchcraft, mutilation, and treason were now common knowledge across Oz. People were urged to come forward if they had any whiff of The Witch's whereabouts, but Fiyero only knew one thing. Wherever The Witch was, it wasn't where she belonged. Wherever The Witch was, it wasn't with him.

Fiyero sat blankly at a train station bench from dawn to dusk on the day she'd been expected to return. With each arrival he'd look up hopefully, ready to believe that everything he'd heard had been sensationalized by a mean-spirited tabloid. However, the final nail in the coffin came in the form of a pale-faced Glinda stepping off the train alone.

"Where is she?" Fiyero stood.

"Fiyero…"

"What happened?"

"Fiyero."

"Is it true!?"

"Come here..."

"Tell me it isn't true!"

Glinda broke into woeful sobs then and flung herself into his arms. As she sniffled into his shoulder, Fiyero only managed to stand there, paralyzed.

"Where is she now?" he dared to ask.

"I don't know," Glinda cried. "But she's gone."

In the privacy of Glinda's now single dorm, she filled him in on every wretched detail. The Grimmerie, the Monkeys, the broom. She spoke of Morrible's betrayal and The Wizard's restrictions on Animal rights.

"Well that's it, then. She won't return now, not even if they let her," Fiyero said grimly, lifting his eyes to Glinda. "It wouldn't be right."

The semester ended in a jarring fashion and Fiyero had no choice but to return home for winter hiatus.

"Why are they calling her the Wicked Witch of the West?" Fiyero overheard his father boom over the morning paper. "Don't drag The Vinkus into this, she isn't from here! Pin the blame on Munchkinland where it belongs!"

"Marilott—you do know that this woman they're writing about is the same young woman that…that Fiyero…" Baxiana said in a troubled voice.

"Of course, I know! You think I don't know?! Just when I thought that his renegade ways couldn't bring any more shame on this family he goes and beds a witch!"

Fiyero considered his family castle, bustling with nobility and servants alike, and found himself longing for the desolate Kiamo Ko. He wanted to hide, and between its remote region and secret passageways, Kiamo Ko was the perfect place to hide.

A painful surge of hope struck him and within the day Fiyero made private arrangements to pay a visit to his family's other castle. As soon as he was dropped off he tore through the waist deep grass that surrounded the fortress and burst through the door.

"Elphaba!?" his voice tore through the echoing hallways. He ran and shouted until his voice was raw. "Elphaba?! Elphaba, it's me. Elphaba!?"

Elphaba knew of Kiamo Ko, she knew it was uninhabited, and she knew that Fiyero would be near. Elphaba was waiting for him there, he knew she was, and she was counting on him to get her message. But as Fiyero darted through the dusty halls, checking each crevice, he found no trace of his green girl. She did not emerge from the shadows.

"I suppose we should discuss your next step, son," Fiyero's father posed the next day back at home. "Now that winter break is coming to an end."

"What do you mean?" Fiyero frowned.

"Well, we presumed that returning to Shiz University was not on the table," his mother explained. "Your marks were—"

"Passing," Fiyero asserted. "They haven't kicked me out yet, have they?"

"No, but one semester does not a graduate make. Why don't you just return home?"

"And do what?" Fiyero asked shortly.

"Settle down," his father muttered.

"Oh, Fiyero. There are plenty of viable matches to consider. The lovely Sarima has expressed an interest—"

"I'm going back to Shiz," Fiyero said with a sense of finality. "I'm finishing what I started…whether or not you believe I can."

Fiyero stormed out and holed up in his room, compelled to pull some familiar tools from his desk drawer.

Dearest Fae,

I was sitting at this very desk when I wrote to you for the first time. I didn't know where or who you were. I still don't know where you are, but I do know who you are. That's what I'm going to hold on to. I found you once before and I'll find you again. I promise you I will.

I miss you, Fae, so in the meantime I'll do as you said. I'll write.

All my heart, Yero

Fiyero returned to Shiz as he said he would with one intention only, to graduate. His parents may not have believed he was capable of it, but someone out there did.

Glinda Upland proved to be his truest friend and confidant, the only person who could speak to him about Elphaba as they remembered her to be. In private, at least. Glinda was an expert liar, but Fiyero couldn't fault her for it. She coped by thrusting herself into the social sphere whereas Fiyero retreated, wanting nothing to do with a world who'd turned their backs on Elphaba.

"We need to be careful," Glinda whispered to Fiyero one night, her voice thick with tears.

Fiyero had gotten into the habit of spending the night at Glinda's. Both of them found nights to be suffocatingly lonely. They slept separately, Fiyero in Elphaba's old bed and Glinda in her own, and though neither feared the dark, they always left the nightlight on…just in case.

"I can't just go along with everything. It isn't right."

"I know it's not right, but it isn't safe. Horrible Morrible has been writing to me, Fiyero," Glinda fretted. "She wants to shape me up for The Wizard in Elphaba's place…and I don't think she's asking."

"Glinda—"

"I'm scared, Fiyero. I'm scared of what they'll do to us if we speak out."

"I'm sure Elphaba was scared too."

Despite his convictions at night, in the bright light of day, Fiyero knew that Glinda was right. Oz had its eyes on him, and they didn't want the truth. They wanted his song and dance.

"I knew it was too strange," they'd say of his relationship between him and The Witch. "Were you, you know…under her spell?"

"Yes," Fiyero would confirm. "Most definitely."

Semesters soared by with tremendous effort. Each time his resolve would waver, he'd picture Elphaba's green finger vigorously tapping at his assignment with some obnoxious remark about not giving up. Each time he'd scraped a passing grade, he pictured her celebration on his behalf. Each time he felt fear grip him on exam days, he'd picture her sitting beside him. It was not his professors nor tutors that had gotten him to his last days of Shiz, but rather the phantom hand of Elphaba coaxing him to persist.

Dearest Fae,

I graduated from Shiz University today. You're the only person in my life that ever thought I'd be able to do it and I did it. It should have been your graduation too. You should have been there. I searched the tree line for you during the ceremony. I searched the sky. I'm looking for your message, Fae. I just haven't found it yet.

All my heart, Yero

Fiyero, still donning his graduation robe, somberly entered Glinda's dorm with a bottle of champagne only to find her in a frantic state.

"I've been summoned," she announced miserably as she threw her belongings into her many suitcases. "To The Emerald City. I'm to move there at once to work with Madame Morrible and my horrendible ex-pen pal!"

"No!" Fiyero protested.

"I don't have a choice!" she blubbered. "They need me to distance myself from my association with the ruddy witch! Oh…oh Fiyero, how I miss that ruddy old witch!"

Fiyero pulled Glinda into a tight hug.

"Oh, Fiyero. I don't want to go. I'll be so alone."

"You won't be alone."

"What?"

"I'll go with you."

"What about The Vinkus?" she sniveled.

"What about it? I go back and have my parents set up an arranged marriage for me? I don't want anything to do with them, Glinda. There's nothing there for me anymore."

"Oh, but Fiyero…being in The Emerald City? With Morrible and The Wizard?!"

"Distance hasn't done me any good…" Fiyero muttered. "Might as well keep my enemies close."

They were kept very close indeed.

Glinda, and Fiyero by extension, were granted large, cushy compartments in The Wizard's own palace along with their new positions. Glinda was officially dubbed Glinda the Good and Fiyero was offered many appropriate positions, though none of them the ones he wanted.

"I want to be part of The Wizard's guard."

"Why—with your status and political studies?" Morrible chuckled. "That's thinking quite small, isn't it? The Wizard is prepared to offer you any position. Why would you lower yourself to grunt work?"

"Make me Captain, then."

Glinda and Fiyero were provided ample documents to sign as part of their fortuitous new life. The pair could feel eyes on the back of their neck as they signed stacks upon stacks of non-disclosure agreements including a disquieting little page called the 'Happy Clause.' The Wizard's officials weren't satisfied by the first round of paperwork, either. Every few months they'd have to consent to something new until a day came where their boundaries were overstepped much further than before.

"One miniscule thing left to sign…" Morrible proposed, sliding a singular document towards them entitled Certificate of Engagement.

"What is this?" Fiyero asked slowly.

"Why—it was The Wizard's idea, in fact! His favorite thing is making the citizens of Oz happy, giving them what they want, so to speak. Well, the magazines have spoken and it's clear the citizens of Oz want the two of you!"

"Madame, we are not together," Glinda explained. "I mean—we tried it out for a bit before…"

Glinda trailed off as Morrible arched one of her painted eyebrows. The air grew heavy and Fiyero lifted his chin.

"You want us to dispel rumors," he deduced. "Of our involvement with The Witch."

"Whatever you and Miss Glinda do in your private lives does not concern The Wizard. It is what the public sees that matters. Master Tigelaar, we cannot change the past. We can, however, reframe it. We'll spin your unfortunate past with The Witch as sympathetic. You were merely victims of her wicked influence, her dark magic as it were, but with The Wizard's forgiveness we'll be pleased to publicize your rehabilitation! That's what we're agreeing upon…that's the truth we're offering here," Morrible clacked her long nails on the contract.

"What's the alternative?" Fiyero asked.

"Well, when not taking the victim angle I suppose the only conclusion left to draw is that your past association with The Witch was, how shall I put this? Treason."

"But why the engagement?" Glinda asked meekly.

"Why, dearie. You should know better than anybody else," Morrible grinned as she slid the contract their way. "Everybody loves a good show."

Dearest Fae,

I'm engaged to Glinda. I can't say I ever expected that to happen, even when we were together. I have also been named Captain of the Guard at my own request. Searching for you is now my full-time job…as if it weren't already.

Please make my job easier by sending me that message. Any kind of message. Show yourself to me, Fae. I'll be looking.

All my heart, Yero

Before Glinda dreamed of pursuing sorcery, she aspired to be an actress. It seemed, in a way, both of her ambitions had come to pass. Fiyero and Glinda became the new "it couple" of The Emerald City and, as far as the rest of the world could tell, they couldn't be happier.

Press conferences. Grand openings. Photoshoots. Parties, parties, and more parties.

The Emerald City limelight ate them up and he and Glinda continued to rack up the esteem Elphaba had once traveled to the city in search of. Morrible proposed a limited tour around Oz to promote their sham engagement and as they visited stops along the Great Gillikin Railroad, Glinda the Good would wave and smile, read to classrooms of children, and offer speeches using vague spin words such as 'hope' and 'perseverance'. Fiyero would stand behind her as she did, feeling himself grow hollower and hollower with every stop they made.

By the time their tour brought them to their alma mater, Fiyero felt as though the realest things about him had already faded. A little over a year had passed since their graduation, but Shiz seemed foreign and changed as Fiyero and Glinda stepped through its vine draped walls.

"It's funny," Glinda mused, a pinched smile on her face. "Being here again…she was so smart, Fiyero. I keep wondering if I've missed her signs."

Fiyero said nothing.

"What if she wants to talk to us and we're just looking in all the wrong places?" she fussed. "It'd have to be somewhere only you or I knew about."

Fiyero slowed to a stop.

"What is it?"

"Come with me," he said urgently, grabbing her hand.

He yanked her out onto the grounds, past the courtyard and down the slope towards the canal. Glinda trotted to keep up in her heels, bunching up her fanciful skirts so she wouldn't stumble, but Fiyero strode ahead with a youthful vigor that had been gone until now.

"Where are we?" Glinda panted as Fiyero halted in front of an unassuming oak tree.

"We're here," he breathed with poorly concealed hope. "This is where we used to exchange our letters, Glinda. Fae would hide them here…Elphaba would hide them here!"

Fiyero dashed around to the other side of the trunk which was fairly overgrown with moss. He regarded the hollow where Yero and Fae would stash their clandestine letters and with a rush of long abandoned optimism he reached to feel inside. His hand drifted over the sides of it, skidding across the rough bark and crumpled leaves.

"Fiyero?"

"She wouldn't have wanted anyone to find it," Fiyero said hurriedly, groping around more frantically. "She—she would have hidden it well."

"Hidden what?"

"HER MESSAGE!" Fiyero yelled, removing his hand from the tree and whipping around to face Glinda. "Her answer, her reason, her—anything! Anything!"

Fiyero turned and slammed a fist against their once precious tree. His fingers clawed at the moss beneath the hollow until a subtle carving revealed itself. There, still imprinted into the bark like scar tissue, was their everlasting arborglyph. Y+F.

"Oh, Fiyero…" Glinda said in a pitiful tone.

"Well I suppose that's my proof," he muttered thickly, turning to face Glinda again. "Proof that we happened. Proof that we mattered at all."

"Of course you did."

"It's been five years, Glinda! Five years of nothing! She's flying about writing in the sky with smoke, setting fires, causing city wide commotions every time she chooses to be seen! But for us? Not a word—not a letter!"

Fiyero dropped to the ground and leaned his back against the tree. It was a strange sight to see the Captain of the Guard in such a boyish pose. Glinda knelt in front of him, her large skirts pooling around her. Fiyero let out a sputtering cough that quickly transitioned into a dry sob. He ran a frantic hand through his hair as his chest heaved to regain composure.

"I'm forgetting what she looked like, Glinda. I'm forgetting what she sounded like, what she smelled like. I thought I'd always remember that—but I guess my brain just isn't sharp enough," he revealed dejectedly. "How can I keep going when all I have of her are my fading memories…and some old letters?"

Glinda reached out and wiped away the single tear that surfaced on the prince's face.

"She had green skin," Glinda reminded him kindly.

Fiyero chuckled hoarsely and kissed Glinda's hand in thanks.

Back in his Emerald City quarters Fiyero sat at his grand desk and velvet chair and stared at the blank stationary in front of him.

Dearest Fae,

I keep expecting time to make the loss of you easier to deal with. I keep expecting time to make me love you less. But it hasn't…and it won't. All time has done is make you slip further away from me.

I once knew you only in letters. I remember picturing you like some mysterious vision lurking in the shadows, but even then I always had hope that you'd come forward eventually. How can it be true that I knew you better then than I do now?

I want you to know that I finally got your message, Fae. The one that you've been sending me all along. I now know that you don't want to be found…not even by me.

Forever yours, Yero

Fiyero folded the stationary with care and slipped it into a fine envelope. He sealed it and wrote Fae on the front in the finest writing he could manage. He melted a puddle of wax and firmly pressed his seal upon it. Then he opened his desk and slipped the envelope along with all the other pieces of his heart which lay unsent at the bottom of his drawer.