Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm so so sorry for the wait on this chapter, but my bursts of inspiration when it comes to writing are wildly sporadic- I went through a period when I couldn't get anything for this chapter done at all, then I wrote half of it in about an hour. :P
Anyways, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed the story so far! You're opinions are really inspiring to me. :) In this chapter, we get out first glimpse of Avaric, which naturally means the chapter's going to have its fair share of bad language and shamefully misogynist remarks.
Plz RR.
The Ultimate Test
Chapter Three:
Avaric possessed, in his eyes anyway, a great amount of admirable features. Just a few examples of the adjectives in this long, indulgent erray were handsome, jaw-dropping, breath-taking, extraordinary, wonderful, splendid, attractive, sexy and of course, ridiculously wealthy (the latter in this list was of paramount importance to him). Ever since a young age, this margreave-to-be, born into a family of priviledge and perfect Gilikinese heritage, had been given everything he ever asked. The world had lain at his fingertips, like clay to be moulded. His parents adored him. His friends idolised and admired him, and to be brutally frank, why shouldn't they? Any casual onlooker would report his perfection; he was athletic, with sandy blonde hair and sky blue eyes, and when he should require it, perhaps to pass a particularly trying examination, he could be surprisingly insightful and intelligent.
However, this casual onlooker would also find it incredibly easy to highlight Avaric's Tenmeadow's main fault. An overwhelming narcissistic streak. He was no poet, but if one of his professors requested them to write some verse on the subject of themselves, he'd be able to produce an epic poem of proportions that Oz has never seen.
As a result, he was both adored and detested throughout Shiz university. It made very little difference to him personally. They could love him or hate him- he'd still be rich and radiant, and they'd still be poor and pathetic. In short, he didn't care about their opinions. Not even a little bit.
That is, save for one excessively verdant girl.
Dr Dillamond was currently in the middle of one of his mind-numbingly, world-implodingly boring rants about Animal rights. Avaric, as was his regular response to this hideously frequent occurence, was staring into space and enjoying the delicacy of his pencil nib. His textbook lay unopened on the desk, which was also occupied by one of his sort-of friends, Fiyero Tigelaar. Of all the people in Shiz, this Vinkun prince's company was probably the least vexing, save for all the curvacious girls, but even then a pretty face could be soured by an annoying voice or a drab personality. Fiyero ticked most of his boxes for "acceptable companion". He was well-connected considering his hereditary royalty, fun and entertaining save for a few hiccups and genuinely good natured.
'It's in lectures like these that I realise how hard my life is,' Avaric moaned under his breath.
'Uh huh.'
Fiyero himself did not share the same sentiment in regards to their friendship. Avaric could be amusing in a very unsubtle, unaware way, but predominantly he'd come to view him as shallow and obnoxious, which of course had nothing to do with the company he'd been keeping of late.
Avaric chewed his pencil a little more and allowed his mind to wander away. At that moment, the future Margreave was romantically engaged with Pfannee, a fashionable brunette. He didn't really like her... well, he didn't really like her, but he liked her silky hair, her ample breasts and her rosy red lips just fine. It wasn't anything more than another questionable fling in a very, very, very long line of worsening questionable flings, and Avaric expected that it would reach a sour conclusion fairly soon. If he lingered with the same girl for an extended period of time, he observed with distaste, they came to form an attachment to him, which was an emotional burden he had no intention of returnin-
'One moment, professor. I'm afraid I'm not as informed on the Wizard's recent animal bans as I'd like. Would you care to illuminate me?'
The voice immediately sent a shiver down Avaric's spine. Sweet Lurline, does she ever shut up?
It would be a reasonably fair assessment to say that Avaric Tenmeadows and Elphaba Melena Thropp often found themselves at odds with each other. Then again, "often" would do well to be replaced by "constantly", and "at odds" essentially sugercoated the true nature of their squabbling. The presence of the two in the same room inevitably led to some sparks, which inevitably lead to some more sparks before finally erupting into a roaring inferno that threatened to consume the entirety of Shiz and everyone attending it. Their personalities simply didn't mix. She loathed his continually swelling ego, and he loathed... well, pretty much everything. He thought she was ugly on the interior and the exterior. Her verdigris merited convulsions of disgust should he come within a two metre radius of her. She was bossy, opinionated and sarcastic in a supremely annoying way. People like her, not that there was anyone else like her in the whole of Oz, were what was intrinsically wrong about their society- you see, Avaric thought scathingly, I can be political as well.
Dr Dillamond beamed at her, exposing a large, blunt set of teeth. 'Why, of course Miss Elphaba. The Wizard's recent propaganda has been hinting towards the move, but I never dreamed Ozian society would truly regress to such a morally repulsive level- now, the living accomadation for Animals in the Emerald City has been restricted to designated areas, which are already beginning to resemble ghettos. Even then, the rent for living space is extortionate, and in order to compensate for the changes dozens of Animals are being forced to share miniscule rooms only suitable for one.'
'That's outrageous!' came Elphaba's response.
'Outrageously dull, you mean,' Avaric interjected.
The comment merited a wave of amused giggles, and the future margreave smirked at his own joke. If he'd felt the urge to glance to the side, he would notice that Fiyero, in addition to Elphaba, hadn't found it all that funny.
'I see the Animals aren't the only ones having to compensate for the size of things,' she quipped back.
Avaric's eyes narrowed down to slits. Any humourous element that might've been present in her remark was undermined by how blatantly untrue it was. He was on the verge of unlocking his trusty old chest of pre-planned vegetable comebacks, but Dillamond cut in.
'Master Tenmeadows! Miss Thropp! Please show some maturity! I expect higher standards from my students- especially you, Elphaba.'
An annoyed scowl settled over the countenance of both, and after a few tense moments, the lecture hall was deathly quiet. Then, the droning proceeded at it's usual breakneck pace.
Avaric turned to Fiyero. 'Can you believe her? What a bitch.'
'Don't call her that.'
Avaric was momentarily taken back, before recognition flooded back into his eyes. 'Ah, of course. I'd forgotten about you and your new "group"; that is, if the banding together of those socially-retarded misfits can truly be acknowledged as such.'
Fiyero offered no response, staring straight forward, but Avaric knew him too well. He had a telltale blood vessel that writhed like an enraged snake on his forehead. It served as a useful indication of when his teasing was hitting the mark.
'In all honesty Fiyero, I expected better from you. A Vinkun prince, uncivilised though his kingdom may be, is a prince nonetheless, and can surely find more satisfying company than a dwarf, an invalid and a brussel sprout.'
The royal sighed. 'Avaric, can we please not have this conversation again?'
'We'll stop when you give me a proper answer.'
The fair-headed Gilikin utilised his cutting and superior tone to mask the dissonant note of genuine confusion in his words. On the outlook, it would appear bizarre to anyone that Fiyero, someone who Avaric sort've liked (in his own special way of course), would actively choose to spend time with The Loser's Club rather than him. To him personally, it was a persistent and wriggling irritation, though he chose not to make it too obvious. The same went for Galinda Upland, Fiyero's girlfriend: a well-bred girl whose wealth and reputation, although not comparable to his own, meant she would provide an adequate girlfriend for him. As a matter of fact, he'd toyed with the idea of pursuing her once he broke up with Pfannee, as his resolve on the matter of his current plaything had only strengthened throughout the lecture. The former was short, so the size of her physical assets was even more eye-brow raising; her kisses were no doubt a treat he had yet to savour and she wasn't intelligent enough to make him feel dim. All in all, she met his criteria in exuberant style.
About fifteen trillion hours later, the lecture came to a long-awaited halt. Avaric leapt to his feet and practically sprinted out the door in record time- he'd been striving to speed up his classroom escapes by not unpacking his bag or equipment properly, thus aiding the getaway. In fact, his pace was so impressive that he found himself crashing head first into the one girl he'd decided to go and find- Pfannee. In moments, he'd been consumed by the sheer power of her "flirty" hug.
'Hey Avaric,' she cooed, ensnaring him in her grasp. Their close proximity allowed him a generous view of her backside, though by this stage the novelty had worn off somewhat. 'I missed you!'
He raised an eyebrow. 'We were together this morning.'
'I know!' she cried, burying her face even further into his shoulder.
Avaric found this exclamation to be illogical and mindboggling, but understanding of the way the gears of girl's minds operated had evaded him for so long that he didn't bother questioning her on it. Instead, he got straight to the issue at hand.
'Listen babe, we need to chat about-'
'So Avaric,' she said, tracing a line along his chest with her finger, 'me, Milla and Shenshen are planning on heading into town on Saturday. You'll be coming, obviously.'
'What? No, I don't-'
'Oh don't complain Avaric, it will be fun! We'll stop by all the usual outfit shops, and then try out that new Quadling cuisine restaurant on the high street.'
He also found this statement to be an lie- even if the scientific theory contemplating the existence of parallel universes was something he was invested in, he'd find it diifficult to accept there could possibly be a physical place were shopping was "fun". It was final. This needed to be ended now.
He cleared his throat, letting the lines of his well-rehearsed break up speech to return to his consciousness. 'Pfannee, I have something to tell you.'
She blinked. 'What is it?'
'As of today, we'll be seeing other people.'
She stared at him for a period that exceeded the usual length of his girlfriend's "shocked at the dramatic revelation" stare. It was painfully silent, and Avaic suddenly became aware of the fact he'd forgotten to take her somewhere private. Everyone in his class were nearby, and observing with widened, unashamed eyes.
Oh well, he thought. At least they'll be no doubt as to who broke up with who.
'Now, I understand this'll be a bit crushing for you. I'm sure you'll want to slap me or something. I'm sorry... okay, that was a lie, I'm not really sorry. I mean, I never gave any indication that this was gonna last, so there's no reason to be too upse-'
The mandatory slap came with a force and ferocity that surprised him somewhat. He reeled back and touched the red handprint on his cheek.
'You horrible, egotistical wankstain on society!' she shrieked.
He raised his eyebrow. 'Impressive. Do you mind if use that insult in future?'
The shriek metamorphisised into a wail of agony. Tears flooded down her face at 100 miles an hour, and she buried her head in her hands.
'There, there,' Avaric said patronisingly, ever the supportive companion. 'You'll find another acceptable, less brilliant boyfriend. Eventually, I suppose.'
She turned around and ran off; her screams were of such a high decibel that there were probably some tinnitus victims in Quadling country that could hear her. He knew he should probably feel a little bad, but the wave of guilt one is supposed to experience after a dumping once again failed to engulf him. Pfannee had often asked him to buy her presents or to just give her money to purchase fashion accessories herself. In that respect, he'd had nits that were less parasitic.
He glanced at his classmates, whose expression's were predominantly of joy, embodied by the girls who now wished to occupy his bed for the next few weeks, or disgust, embodied by Elphaba. Her arms were crossed, and the deep brown eyes were narrowed down to repulsed slits.
He smirked at her, and then clapped his hands. Well, I think that went rather well.
