Warning(s): Mentions of Death; Mention of Attempt of Suicide

I have illustrations of this story posted on my tumble artsspangledpumpkin or you can see them as they appear in the story on AO3 under starspangledpumpkin!

~o0o~

There had to be more to life than this.

There were a lot of things Fiyero missed about being human. Afternoon naps being one of them. Ever since he was cursed, he couldn't sleep. It was so unfair that this was the shape he was forced to take. At least if he were still flesh and blood, he could sleep. Get some escape from this life he was living.

So he made a stupid decision insulting that ugly bog fairy. He made a lot of stupid decisions, but none that had consequences like this. Now, he was cursed for all eternity. At least until he fell in love with the most beautiful woman in the world and earned her love in return. 'For beauty was found within' or something stupid like that.

Nobody was beautiful on the inside. Everyone he'd ever met was so shallow, he could stand in a puddle of all of them combined and not get his feet wet.

Besides, how was he even supposed to meet ladies looking like this?

No one had seen it. One moment he was in a grand ballroom, laughing at the joke he'd made about her cloak, the next he woke up in this castle that once belonged to his family, but was no longer in use.

Hardly anyone came near it, and the last time he tried to get out and about, he was called a 'demon' and didn't even escape intact.

After he was torn to pieces, he woke up in the castle garden and spent a full day pulling himself back together.

Being unable to sleep gave him a lot of time on his hands. Time to think. Time to reflect. He had regrets. So many regrets.

The loneliness was the worst part. He had a single living companion, Chistery the Flying Monkey, whom he had found a few winters back.

Chistery could talk, but it was rudimentary. The "servant" was the castle itself, which seemed to have been enchanted to be alive and had quite the attitude.

Fiyero liked the garden best. He preferred to keep busy and the enchantress wasn't a completely heartless hag. This garden was the most beautiful in the world with magical plants that couldn't be found anywhere else. He still had to tend it, organize it, and after ten years he had it just how he liked it.

The golden apple tree was the hardest to move, but it was much better at the highest point of the garden where it got the most sunlight.

Oz, he'd kill to throw a shindig again. To be able to drink wine and eat good food. To dance all night until his feet hurt with some beautiful young lady who was soft and giggled sweetly. To actually feel human touch and warmth.

He'd kill just for someone to talk to that could form a coherent sentence and didn't scream when they saw him.

"BOO!" Fiyero boomed.

The piebald crow looked at him and laughed before going back to pecking at his fig tree, completely ignoring the storm that was blowing in.

"Agh!" he groaned, swatting at it.

It cawed, and within a second over a dozen of them were attacking his head, ripping at the burlap sack he wore.

"GET OFF! GET OFF!" he shouted, running back towards his castle.

Chistery shrieked and swooped down. The crows scattered, frightened off by the Monkey. Fiyero braced his hands on his knees.

"I hate crows," he muttered and stalked back inside.

He noticed the sconces were lit and frowned.

"What do you mean we have guests coming?" he demanded of the castle.

He had "guests" now and again. More recently a very beautiful woman with blonde curls and a penchant for pink. The most beautiful woman in the world and exactly the type to help him break the curse. Until he revealed himself and she and her companions took only the horses, leaving all her things behind.

No one ever stayed for long.

Castle liked preparing for these guests regardless by offering a feast and trying to light the place so it was more welcoming. The dingy walls and cobwebs didn't help much, but Fiyero would rather wallow in pity and stew in his thoughts than clean. He wouldn't even know where to begin.

There was a groan in response, which he had long since learned was the castle talking. Or he had just snapped and was making stuff up. Either way, he had a translation for it, just like he had for Chistery's limited vocabulary.

"I'm not in the mood for guests!" he snapped. "Just don't open the damn door."

A panel swung open, knocking his head off his shoulders. He hated being split apart like this. He could still sense his body standing, but his head rolled across the floor, making him dizzy.

"No, no, no. Not the stairs!" he shouted.

He had some sensations. Dull, but there. He could tell if he was holding something, but there was no true sensation. No pleasure or pain, That didn't mean he liked having his head bounce around.

It came to a stop against a wall upside down.

"Great," he muttered and tried to move his body towards his head.

Easy… He skidded and tumbled down the steps.

Chistery perched himself on the railing, laughing and clapping his hands.

"Fall down! Fall down!"

"Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up!" said Fiyero. "Hey, brainless! This way!"

His body staggered over to his head.

"Easy… don't kick me—don't!"

His foot sent his head skittering away.

Chistery hopped down and picked his head up, placing it in his hands.

"Thanks," he muttered and jammed it back onto his shoulders with a loud 'crack!'. "You win. We'll host, but I'm not saying 'hi' this time!"

Castle accepted that and Fiyero went to hide. Sure enough, a storm blew through, not helped by his foul mood that always seemed to affect the weather, and from the highest tower he could see a wagon hurrying towards the castle, nearly concealed by a sheet of rain. He grabbed his spy glass and peered through it.

Two people, it looked like. A wagon with a tarp. Merchants? Travelers?

Fiyero moved to the balcony overlooking the foyer and hid in the shadows to watch them enter. The door opened on its own accord and two people entered. They shed their cloaks, and in the light of the chandelier Fiyero could see their faces. Both men. One older, one younger.

"Good thing this castle was here," said the young one.

"We wouldn't even be here if you hadn't gotten us lost, Boq," the older man snipped. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Fiyero didn't answer, quietly observing. Chistery sat on his shoulder quietly.

"I think we should head back, Mr. Thropp," said Boq. "I don't like this place."

"If you want to go sit in the rain, be my guest," said Mr. Thropp. "I, however, am going to get dry until it passes."

Fiyero ducked into the hidden passage that ran through the interior of the castle. It had been fun exploring them and now he knew them by heart. Every entrance, exit, lever, and trap door.

He was able to spy through the eyes of the portraits, listen to conversations, and watch every movement made throughout the castle.

The pair found their way to the dining hall where a feast for two was spread across the table.

"Wow!" Boq breathed.

"Hello? Is the master of the house here?" Mr. Thropp called.

Fiyero didn't answer.

"How rude," Mr. Thropp sniffed. "Not even a servant in sight. This place is filthy."

Fiyero looked at Chistery and nodded.

Chistery scampered to the kitchen exit and moments later emerged into the dining hall.

"Oh!" Boq gasped, jumping back.

"Sit! Sit!" he said.

"How peculiar," said Mr. Thropp, taking a seat at the head of the table. "Will the master of the castle be joining us?"

Chistery made a kissy noise and ran off.

"Sit down, Boq," said Mr. Thropp.

They ate their fill, then explored the castle long enough to find beds ready and made for them—if not a little dusty. Fiyero waited until they were asleep, then went outside to the stable to look in the wagon. There was a tarp covering a few crates stamped with 'Munchkinland' on the side and his merchant's stamp.

Fiyero opened one of the crates and found bolts of fabric. They were very fine. An order for his parents? He picked one up and dropped it in shock.

He could feel it. He snatched it back up and ran his spindly fingers over the fabric. He could feel the texture of the pattern, the fine weave. He pulled off the burlap sack that covered his head and rubbed the fabric against his cheek. He hadn't felt anything real in so long. He went through the entire crate, but out of the remaining stock, he could only feel that bolt and some silk scarves. He carried them up to the castle.

The door slammed shut in his hand.

"Hey!" he protested and tugged the handle. He looked at the fabric and huffed. "I'm not stealing. I'll put money in its place. Promise."

The door finally gave away. Fiyero brought the fabric to his chambers, then went to the treasure room. He had found it a year after he ended up here and considered sending it to his parents, but decided not to in a fit of pettiness. He was a creature and suddenly his letters weren't worth responding to?

The curse was as much a punishment on them, he was just the one with the raw end of the deal.

He tried to think of what such beautiful fabric would be worth and just filled a small chest with treasures before returning to the wagon and placing it in the crate.

Who made it? He wondered.

Fiyero sat down and ran the fabric through his wooden fingers, not growing tired of feeling something real. He sat this way until morning when Castle prepared breakfast for their guests. Chistery woke them and led them back to the dining room.

"Still no sign of our host," said Mr. Thropp. "It really is bad manners to not greet your guests."

Fiyero frowned. It was tempting to make himself known. At least so he could find out who wove the fabrics he could feel, but this man didn't seem like the kind who would know who made what.

After breakfast, the two men decided to explore the castle and ended up outside in the gardens. Deciding to have a little fun, Fiyero followed them and headed just a ways ahead of them where he hopped onto a post and stuck his arms out.

Mr. Thropp and Boq emerged from the flower tunnel and jumped upon seeing him.

"A scarecrow," said Mr. Thropp, curling his lip. "It doesn't even suit the garden. A statue would look much nicer."

"But then the birds would attack my poor flowers," said Fiyero softly, the mask he wore covering the movement of his mouth.

"Yes, I suppose that's true," said Mr. Thropp.

"Who are you talking to?" Boq asked.

"Didn't you say something about birds?"

"I thought you said it!"

Mr. Thropp furrowed his brow, then looked around.

"Hello?" he called, moving ahead. "Are you the keeper of this castle? Show yourself!"

Fiyero turned his head as they passed until it had done a complete 180°. Boq looked back and did a double-take. He stared for a long moment, then scurried along after his boss.

Hopping down, Fiyero ran ahead and stood in the middle of the next section. Boq shrieked upon seeing him.

"Honestly, lad, get a hold of yourself!" Mr. Thropp snapped.

"I think that's the same one as before!" he squeaked.

"Don't be ridiculous." Mr. Thropp poked Fiyero in the stomach, tugging out a bit of stuffing. "Look! Only straw!"

He moved on and Boq stared at Fiyero, then kicked him in the shin. Fiyero waited until he was moving on before spinning around and kicking him in the rear. The Munchkin stumbled and fell. Fiyero returned to his pose.

This was fun.

"Mr. Thropp!"

"What is it now?!"

Fiyero bit back a laugh and waited until they were gone before following.

They had found the best part of the gardens. Fiyero was particularly proud of it, Oyster Roses weren't exactly easy to tend to, but when they bloomed and the pearl appeared in the center? Well, it certainly helped Fiyero decide that there was good magic and bad magic.

Cursing someone to spend eternity as a scarecrow? Bad magic.

A magical garden with plants unique to the world? Good magic.

Not that he could spend these riches, but he did enjoy watching them sparkle.

His most favorite part were the poppies in the center of the roundabout. There wasn't anything magical about them, he had just grown them from seeds and planted them himself. The Poppy Festival had always been his favorite. He missed going.

"Nessa did ask for roses," Mr. Thropp mused. "I should present her with a bouquet of these. The pearls would make a beautiful necklace."

"And don't forget Miss Elphaba," Boq piped up.

"Excuse me?"

Boq shrank back. "You promised to bring her back a poppy."

"Oh, very well. Find something to cut down these roses with. My dear Nessa deserves all of them." He went over to the poppies and sneered. "I suppose these will do for Elphaba."

Fiyero stiffened as the man ripped up a handful of poppies. Growling, he stormed over to confront the man. Dark clouds rolled in with his anger.

Boq screamed. Mr. Thropp dropped the flowers, his jaw hanging open.

"How dare you?!" Fiyero snarled. "I welcome you as guests in my home and this is how you thank me? By destroying my beautiful garden?!"

"Show yourself!" Mr. Thropp demanded angrily and ripped off Fiyero's mask. He jerked back in shock, his eyes rolling back in terror.

"Come to gawk at the demon of Kiamo Ko?!"

"N-No! Please! Don't hurt me!" Mr. Thropp begged. "I have daughters at home, their mother is dead and no one else can care for them. Please!"

Fiyero decided to up the nasty and grinned.

"Oh, but we are having such fun, aren't we?" he laughed wickedly. "I like having someone around. It can be so lonely in this great big castle. Why don't you stay a while? I have a cozy little dungeon I would just love to show you."

He grabbed the both of them by their shirts and dragged them back to the castle.

"No! Wait! A trade!" Mr. Thropp cried.

Fiyero laughed sardonically. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"

"What would you want with us?" he quavered. "An old man and a Munchkin boy? You say you are lonely? I have a daughter you might prefer."

Ugh, seriously? Damn coward! Fiyero dropped the pair in disgust.

"She is twenty-four years old. Strong," Mr. Thropp continued. "She will make a fine bride. Please, I beg of you, do not leave my poor Nessarose an orphan!"

Creep. If he had even put up a fight, Fiyero would have let him run. Chased him a little, cackled, lit his head on fire and thrown it at them. If this man would throw away a daughter so easily to save his own skin…

The whisper of the curse's conditions echoed in the back of Fiyero's mind and he stilled, hating himself for his next words.

"Is she beautiful?" he asked.

"My sweet girl is the most beautiful in Oz."

The most beautiful in Oz. Well, if it worked, Fiyero would have his curse broken and if not, he'd let the girl hang around for a bit, then send her on her merry way with some treasure for her troubles.

"Very well," he said and plucked a single rose, tossing it onto the man's chest. "I will release you upon your word that you send your daughter to me."

"I s-swear!"

"I will await her arrival. See what happens when you do not."

"Yes, of course. Thank you!"

Fiyero waved his hand and made sure they left. They did so quickly, barely taking the time to hitch the wagon to their horses.

There was literally nothing keeping him to his word. Fiyero wouldn't even have any idea on how to find this man except for Munchkinland, which was as big as the Vinkus. Mr. Thropp would come to his senses, think Fiyero a sucker, and continue on with his life as if he never saw this place.

Once the dust had settled, Fiyero returned to the garden to fix the mess they made.

"Gone?" Chistery asked, settling next to him.

"Yeah. Gone." Fiyero picked up a few poppies that hadn't made it in the escape. "For someone who claims to love his daughters, he sure was quick to offer one of them up."

"Sit. Sit," said Chistery.

"You can go inside. I'm going to stay out here for a while."

He wondered what would happen if he just picked a field and stood in it. Day after day, week after week. Would he stay in it for eternity? Would he rot with the plants if there came a day they were left alone?

The emptiness was overpowering. Fiyero jumped to his feet and went to the stables, only to find his horse and carriage missing. They had been left behind a while ago and the true owner never returned for them.

"Castle, where's my horse?" Fiyero demanded.

He only got a few creaks and groans in response.

"Well, are they coming back?"

The lanterns spluttered once for 'yes'. Fiyero sighed and shook his head.

"I wish you'd tell me these things before you let them happen," he sighed. "My permission doesn't seem to matter anyway."

Fiyero huffed and sank to the ground.

"Why me?" he muttered.