Southstairs was hell in Oz. There was no other way to describe it. It was darkness that Fiyero's eyes could never adjust to. It was silence that he could never forget hearing. It was disgusting, intimidating and horrifying in the same instant. No one deserved the fate they encountered here.
As usual, Fiyero was down in the underground prison scoping out the new prisoners. He hadn't been down for three weeks on account of his recent absence, but now it was time to leave it behind and rediscover his routine.
Descending the colossal staircase was always a good opportunity to think. Probably due to the fact that it was thinking time Glinda would never find the courage to interrupt. Not that he didn't mind her interruptions...until recently. The whole adoption idea threw him off. In fact, he was sick of her pestering him. He had never minded her smothering personality so much. That only encouraged the idea in his mind. Maybe they did need something they could lavish all of their effort on and bring them back together again.
He made it to the bottom level in record time, not wanting to think on this matter anymore than he had to. His boots clacked against the stone floor followed by the rustle of the imprisoned readying themselves. A guard's passing could mean anything: a new prisoner, a chance to inflict some kind of insult, torture or- to those who still had hope- escape.
Fiyero held his clipboard in front of him to avoid meeting the sunken eyes of the gaunt faces that stared through the bars. He had made that mistake on his first visit and never repeated it. Through the corner of his eye he noticed the occupied cells that had previously been empty. One-two-three contained a woman who was sobbing into her apron. Two-one-six had a figure who blended right into the dark except for bright red eyes.
Then Fiyero reached the high security cells, or in other words, the cells that held the Animals. The first one beheld an Antelope who hadn't been there beforehand. Fiyero hoped that the previous inmate had been released, but hopes seemed futile in a place like this. Even if you know you were guaranteed a way out.
Deciding to leave instead of finishing the main passageway, Fiyero turned to go, but stopped when he saw the shadowy outline of a human hand underneath the bars of the last cell. There had never been a human kept in the high security cells.
Overtaken by curiosity and pity, Fiyero slowly approached the little hand and surveyed the figure curled up against the bars. Her fingers were stretched out past the cell; the only part of her that was free. But her knuckles were bloody as if she had been pounding them against the ground.
To put a child in Southstairs was despicable. There was no way that the kid had done anything worthy of prison. And all of things that went on in Southstairs...Fiyero couldn't bear to look, but he had to. He felt that being part of the reason for the suffering, it was his duty.
He reached out and closed his fingers around the girl's, trying to transfer some life into her deathly form. She must have felt it, because she stirred slightly; her heart kickstarting to life again. The ground was cold and she shivered, but still her eyes fluttered open, a light through the darkness.
Fiyero wouldn't forget the uncanny intelligence in her sapphire eyes.
Glinda gently rubbed Fiyero's shoulders as they settled under their quilts later that night. "I know something's wrong. You've been too quiet...even for your recent moods." He didn't answer her. "So now you're above talking to me too?"
"Glinda," Fiyero started quietly. It was the softest tone he had used with her in a week. "I went to Southstairs today-"
"Fiyero, you know I don't like hearing about these things," Glinda protested mildly.
"There is a little kid in Southstairs," Fiyero interrupted harshly.
Glinda froze and bolted upright. She didn't realize how terrible a person it made her seem. "This is perfect!"
"Did you hear what I said?" Fiyero snarled.
"Yes!" She looked over at him. "This is a sign, don't you see?"
"No, I don't."
"We can adopt the child!" Glinda rushed excitedly. "We'll go see the Wizard tomorrow! I'm sure I can persuade him-"
"Glinda, we've been through this," Fiyero said irritably.
"So you're content to let a child rot in Southstairs while we sit pretty here in our palace?" Glinda retorted.
Fiyero threw up his hands. "Yeah, and while we're at it, let's invite the Hog and the murderer and the creepy guy with the red eyes!"
Glinda flinched at the sarcasm. "Tell me about the child at least."
He strained his memory. "I don't know...she can't be more than ten...I couldn't see much." But he couldn't erase the haunting image of her expression.
"What if she stays with us until we find her parents?" Or become her parents, Glinda thought deviously.
"Glinda..."
"Please, Fiyero. There has never been anything more important than this right now," she pleaded seriously. "I know it'll be good for all three of us." She grinned at him. "Let's start a family."
Fiyero couldn't forget the feel of the cold, lifeless hand. How badly he had wanted to protect the child from everything. What better way to do it from his own home? "You know what?" He smiled kindly. "I think you're right."
Glinda squealed. Oh gosh, it felt good to be loud and excited around Fiyero again. She hopped out of the bed and bounced up and down. "I need to make an appointment to meet the Wizard!" She threw on a housecoat and fuzzy slippers and rushed out of the room, only to return a few seconds later and tackle Fiyero in a fierce hug. "By the way, I love you." She kissed him sweetly and ran out again.
When Glinda returned Fiyero was already asleep and she lay down beside him, forcing herself to sleep so the next day would come sooner. Miraculously, she was able to and was able to wake up early the next morning. She leaned over and shook Fiyero's shoulder. "Get up, get up, get up!"
Fiyero moaned and lifted his head off the pillow. "I don't want to go to work."
Glinda rolled her eyes and pulled her favourite blue dress from the closet. She threw it on, not concerned about modesty anymore. She set her tiara on top of her head and played with her curls. "Maybe I should put my hair up today..."
Coming up from behind, Fiyero rested his hands on her shoulders and said, "I don't really think the mechanical Wizard head is going to care about your hair."
They were on joking terms again! She playfully shoved him away. "Go get ready!" Glinda beamed.
"You mean I can't go in my pj's?" Fiyero asked incredulously.
"Go put on your uniform! We're going to be late!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Fiyero saluted Glinda and turned the other direction.
"Hold on!" Glinda exclaimed and pulled him back. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "I love you."
Fiyero returned the hug and the kiss, but he didn't say anything. There were those times when words didn't seem enough and there were those times when you just didn't have the words to say. This was both.
"Captain Fiyero and Lady Glinda, to what do I owe the pleasure?" the Wizard greeted them amiably. He was sitting with them around a table rather than putting on a show, which was fortunate because both of them had seen the show far too many times.
"Your Ozness," Glinda began politely, "Fiyero and I have a request to make of you."
The Wizard folded his hands in his lap. "But of course."
"It's been brought to our attention that there's a child in Southstairs." Glinda waited for the Wizard to acknowledge the words.
"Ah, yes." He pressed two fingers together against his lips and leaned back. "So there is."
"We'd like to adopt the child."
The Wizard was startled. "I'm afraid I can't allow that."
"Why not?" Fiyero blurted out.
"Because a prisoner is a prisoner," the Wizard reasoned.
"That's bullshit!" Fiyero exclaimed.
Glinda squeezed Fiyero's hand warningly. "What Fiyero means is: we can offer the child a good home and she'll never be too far from your sight."
"Miss Upland, you do have a point," the Wizard replied thoughtfully. He paused for a few minutes and forced them to wait in their suspense. "In fact, I believe I'll grant you your wish. You may retrieve your daughter anytime you'd like."
"Oh, let's go right now!" Glinda cried. She hurriedly shook the Wizard's hand and excused herself.
Fiyero stayed until Glinda was gone. Her happiness had dissolved into an atmosphere of pure severity. "Your Ozness, why was the girl imprisoned in the first place?"
"Hmmm. Excellent question," the Wizard answered softly. "As for the answer, you'll find out eventually. For now I can only say that I hope you've always longed to be a father, my Sentimental Boy."
Bewildered to the core, Fiyero simply nodded and took his leave to follow Glinda down to Southstairs.
"You could have warned me not to wear heels," Glinda said irritably as she clutched Fiyero's arm. "I wasn't under the impression that I'd be walking so much."
"Southstairs, Glin, you get there by stairs." Glinda gasped as she lost her footing on one of the steps. "And this is the easy part," Fiyero warned.
She swallowed loudly, but didn't say anything. They passed the rest of the journey in silence, able to tell when they had reached the bottom by the feeling of sturdy stone under their feet rather than the crumbly steps of the narrow staircase. "Okay," Glinda reassured herself. "No more than ten minutes now."
Fiyero could feel her head swivelling around, desperately trying to adjust to the lack of lighting, but to no avail. He pulled her along quickly and carefully to the last cell, standing back slightly so she could get the first look.
Glinda grasped the bars and peered through, for once not concerned about keeping her outfit perfectly intact. Holding her hands out for the keys, Fiyero passed them over. The metal clacking together resounded through the prison. With trembling fingers, Glinda managed to find the right key and Fiyero helped her slide the bars back. She paused for a moment and then entered the cell, immediately deciding that she'd rather die than enter another one.
It was darker inside of it than outside of it, if that was even possible. And empty. It was an overgrown box made of stone, except for the cement bench in the corner on which the child lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Uh...hello there," Glinda called uncertainly. The child sat up, her legs hanging over the edge of the bench, not quite reaching the floor. "I'm going to get you out of this terrible place," Glinda said, her voice still shaking. "You're going to live in the palace. It's a big step but..." She trailed off and opted for holding out a hand instead.
Slowly, the girl came around and wobbled onto her feet. She advanced towards Glinda and stretched out her own hand. After an eternity, their hands met and Glinda smiled instantly. The cold, clammy hand in her own was still more fulfilling than none at all. "That's it. Things are going to get better from here," Glinda sighed contentedly. Not even the darkness could mask the grin on her face.