A/N: Ok, here's a chapter I wrote during school the other day , but it's kind of short. Wow, I really need to update some of these fanfictions…argh…oh, well.
Disclaimer: Not mine, the play or the book or the music or the costumes or anything else.
Shell led them up and down stair cases, causing Elphaba to have a rant about the futility of it, and didn't he have a more efficient route? It wasn't as if she was going to come back and set free all the prisoners, anyway.
Shell gave her a look when she'd said that, and laughed.
"Only the ones you think are innocent," he said, leading them up another flight of stairs- hadn't they gone down these twenty minutes ago?
Liir's legs and bladder were beginning to complain, but he didn't want to become the focus of either Elphaba's or Fiyero's jabs. Were they his parents, he wondered, and if so, why wasn't he half so quick as either one of them? Why wasn't his skin green, or reddish brown? He set himself to studying their faces, Elphaba's sharp angles, Fiyero's smoother, noble features, searching for himself in them. He examined, too, on their long walk, what he knew of their personalities. Elphaba's deep passions, her rages, griefs, and bursts of joy at discoveries too complex for him to understand in the slightest, her crazy lack of a schedule and incomprehension of the time of day- running about at midnight, boots slamming on the stairs, doors opening, coffee, of all things, pouring, and then napping against her will, in the stairwell, standing up, at noon. She would stay shut up in her tower for days, eating nothing, and then dash downstairs, often in the middle of the night or at six in the morning, and eat everything she could lay her hands on. She would read silently for hours sometimes, and be unable to focus for more than a few minutes before jumping up and bursting out with something at other times. Liir had none of these traits, sleeping at night, awake all day, eating at set times, no emotions crossing the bounds of ordinariness. His angers weren't rages, his sadness never quite grief, or depression, just sorrow, and his happiness not often joy. He couldn't focus for hours upon hours, sometimes even days, as Elphaba could, but then he never flew up from a book exclaiming every two minutes. Was he like Fiyero, then, in personality? He'd have to find out. But…
Liir's reverie was interrupted by Shell, who had stopped at a cell door- hadn't they passed this before?
"We're here," Shell said grandly. "At the presidential suite of the Palace de-" Elphaba kicked him in the shin.
"Shut up, Shell, you give me a headache."
"Everyone gives you a headache."
"We've been over this."
"And once is enough…so…." He opened the door. "The Princess Nor!"