"I lived here once," Elphaba confessed. "With Liir."
"Are you certain? Surely one mauntery looks like the next," Fiyero asked, examining his hopefully soon-to-be former Scarecrow image in a tall mirror.
"That is true but yes, I'm sure of it. This is the very same one." She became reflective. "Kiamo Ko had been taken. All of Vinkus was undersiege."
"And so you fled the fortress with the boy." For all of his compassion and understanding, there was a touch of hurt betrayl in Fiyero's voice.
"Would that I could of spared your family the suffering wrought them. Fiyero, you must know that," she said, with great remorse.
"Were you present when they were taken?"
"They say tis a noble deed to and die for those you love. But I say, tis nobler still to bide ones time and live to fight another day."
Fiyero said nothing and kept his back to her. She watched him closely, looking for any kind of reaction.
They were children! My children and my wife and you did nothing! She fancied those as his thoughts. Unflappable and foolhardy. He had the pretense down to an art, keeping his trueself locked away from the world, and on occasion even to her.
There came a hesitant knock on the door and a young girl came into the room. Her name was Candle, so they had been told. She met neither of their gazes and kept her eyes on the floorboards.
There was a momentary silence but Fiyero broke it by saying, "I hear you have quite the talent with your instrument."
She clutched the domingon as if it were her lifeline. She gave him a slight nod in acquiesce.
Ever the diplomat, Fiyero continued. "Word of your gift has spread far and wide. I have come all the way from Emerald City with the hopes that you will grant my request."
Emerald City was a two day hike at the longest. Shorter with the aid a wagon and pony. But Elphaba kept her mouth shut on this and let him work his particular brand of magic.
"In my mother's courts there was a young lady who would play for us every evening. It was quite remarkable if I recall. I wonder if the two of you may be related."
The girl seemed to relax slightly but the change was almost imperceptible.
"That matters little at any rate. What does matter is that all these stories of you and your domingon have reached my ears and I must say have filled me with a sense of nostalgia. How I long for things to be as they were all those years ago. A chance to turn the clock back again and be as I once was." He paused and looked at Candle imploringly. "Is there any chance you will grant my request?"
Elphaba held her breath. The girl said nothing, made no move for what seemed an eternity. Finally, she nodded her head.
Fiyero clapped his hands once. "Wonderful. Lets get started."
Whatever other powers it may have held the girl's music was certainly soothing. It lulled Fiyero and he felt a strange sensation steal over him. It held some familarity but just what that was, he couldn't place.
Elphaba rose from her seat, alarmed as he swayed on his feet. She rushed to his side.
Candle stopped playing. A handful of notes in and already a profound effect.
"Elphie...I felt something," he told her.
She guided him to the bed and made him sit.
He looked around at Candle. "Why'd you stop?" Free me. To what ever end, just set me free, his eyes seemed to say.
Candle began again, the pure melody enveloping the room, tugging at his soul. And Elphaba's. She nearly wept at the beauty of it.
But only Fiyero felt the strength of it's impact. A voice seemed to rise with the notes. He knew the room was empty save the three of them and none were responsible for it. He lay back.
The sheets felt cool against him. It took a moment for the significance of this to hit him. Startled, he stared at his arms. Still made of straw. But surely, it meant something? He puzzled at this. The voice rose in timbre, singing just for him.
Of love. Of peace. Joy. Celebration.
Elphaba raised a shaking hand to her mouth. It seemed there were two of him. No. That wasn't right. It was her Fiyero with the Scarecrow superimposed over him.
One of the candles flared up. An errant spark flew to the bed and made purchase. The brittle straw blazed even before she could react. She gave voice to her shock. But she found she could not move. "Fiyero!"
But all of this was beyond him. The beguiling words and melody drawing him ever down into a dreamlike state.
The straw and rags burned away to nothing at the shoulder revealing a patch of dusky ocher. The conflaguration grew but, miraculousy nothing else was touched by the flames.
Candle played on as they leapt higher, similarly in a trance, with little awareness and no regard for the raging fire before her.
Straw disintigrated at an alarming rate now, feeding the inferno. Ash fell like snow. The last remnants of the Scarecrow crumpled to a fine powder.
The fire imploded upon itself. Now it was just Fiyero, exactly as she remembered him. Blue diamonds on his chest, down his abdomen, on his arms. She looked up at his face and he seemed perfectly untroubled by what had just happened.
Mother Yackle burst into the room. She grabbed Elphaba's wrist with a claw-like hand. "Quick, you silly girl. He's slipping away."
Imagine that. Someone with the nerve to call me, the notorious Wicked Witch of the West, a silly girl! But then Yackle was always one to be reckoned with herself.
A cut split Fiyero's lower lip and the makings of a bruise marred his right eye.
"You see," the harridan rasped, shaking Elphaba roughly. "Quick now, I say. Did you think that night would have no consequence?"
Elphaba muttered the first thing that came to her mind. A binding spell, tethering his life to hers. After all, were they not already two halves of one whole?
She felt it's effects immediatly, the strength being drained from her. She staggered forward but Yackle kept her on her feet.
"Stop that infernal playing," the crone snarled at Candle. The girl blinked and came back to herself. She dropped her bow and it clattered to the floor. The two of them were able to manuver Elphaba to the bed, before she completly collapsed.
A terrible burning pain rose in her chest, like she had been stabbed with a firebrand and she nearly cried with the agony. This is what he feels right now. Oh my love, I can't spare you the pain but I can keep you with me. We shall face this together. She pulled herself closer to him, drawing up against his naked body. He was warm as if touched with the slightest of fevers. Or perhaps she was just cold.