Thanks for all of the birthday wishes, everyone! And sorry for not posting sooner; I've been terribly preoccupied with a new job.
But let's not think of such things. Let's think about our handsome swain! Poor Fiyero. Things didn't work out like he expected with Elphaba at the dance, did they?
He was in a foul mood by the time he returned from the Ozdust that night. The party wound down well past midnight and he saw it out if only because it took more effort than it was worth to remove himself from his seat after his fourth shot of the strong Vinkun-distilled drink the barkeep had chosen for him. He took a few minutes of the evening to hate himself for this relapse into such habits; even when he was with the Gale Force he limited his alcohol intake to only a couple of pints of draft. He had grown up, he had surmised—changed. But there he sat, sporting a healthy buzz, watching the liveliness of those enjoying the prime of their lives as he once had while buying anyone a drink who had enough daring to approach the prince and initiate idle chit-chat.
The Three Queens district, where the Ozdust was located, seemed to sparkle regardless of the hour. Fiyero lingered on the Three Queens' bridge and admired how the lanterns strung across its length made the dark canal water underneath it glimmer with a mesmerizing allure. Elphaba's eyes looked like that after he had first kissed her, Fiyero thought pathetically, tossing a coin from his pocket into the depths to agitate the surface. And that was how her eyes looked tonight.
He had forgotten to eat that afternoon, having been too worked up all day to think about getting a meal in his stomach, which was why four small glasses of liquor (plus a hearty mug of porter) had him shuffling home along the banks of the canal feeling lousy. At least there was no one around, allowing him some solace after an evening of social pressure and sensory stimulation.
By the time he reached St. Proud's Square, he could see the large shadow that was Crage Hall and the young, drunken brain he was stuck with began pulling him there, wanting to knock on the roommates' door, confront Elphaba, and ask her why she had rejected him.
It wasn't as though he didn't understand. He just was unwilling to accept things as they were. He was so beyond Shiz and flirting and these stupid formal parties. He was tired and angry and full of self-pity. It was possible too that he would have broken into Crage Hall if not for the fact that Elphaba would have been sleeping, and the idea of disturbing her in a moment of peace was sobering after everything her counterpart had been through. So he just went home.
He didn't really sleep. It wasn't for a lack of trying. A couple of times he nearly nodded off but then the memories of the soldier's attack had him staring widely at the dark ceiling with his heart running a mile a minute. Then he would try to think about Elphaba as he had done for so long after she disappeared from the Wizard's palace, but instead of drifting off to thoughts about where she was, if she was okay, and whether or not she returned his feelings, he pouted about how she was a few hundred feet away and how she hadn't given him the time of day.
He gave up by the time light started filling the early-morning sky. Sunrise prompted a desire to run, as had become his habit in the Emerald City, and after finding a well-worn pair of shoes in the bottom of his trunk and a pair of shorts he set off around campus. The cold morning air was refreshing against the bare skin of his chest and arms but beyond a mile left his lungs burning; angrily, he pushed his body forward, past the pain. Just because this body was weak and lazy didn't mean his mind was, and he had no tolerance for his poor condition. When he reached the dewy grass outside of the dorms, he collapsed, breathless, watching the sky as the last of the stars faded from view.
Because his younger counterpart was an idiot and wanted to arrive to his newest school fashionably late, he had gotten in on a Friday. Which meant Fiyero had two days before he would have another natural opportunity to see Elphaba again. Two whole, long, miserable days of uncertainty and frustration.
He had made the decision he wouldn't seek her out. If he learned anything by watching Boq and other boys like him, it was that zealousness was a turn-off. He also was at a loss about how to approach her. Maybe he could use his brainlessness to convince her to tutor him or his princeliness to arrange a marriage with her? He dropped face-first into his pillow upon arrival in his room again and punched the fluff repeatedly, like a child having a fit, hating himself for even thinking of something so dim-witted.
He had decided it best not to inform her of his situation, for what could it do but put her ill-at-ease? Why would a young, optimistic girl want to hear about the horrors that would befall her and those about whom she cared? How could he shatter her dreams and any hope for the future? And if he did, to what end did he expect? She had a rebellious, distrustful nature and a temper.
Fiyero had the tendency to be stupid at times, but he was not that stupid.
He still had until semester's end before she would be summoned to the Emerald City for an audience with the Wizard. He had a chance to start over with her, to do things right, to remedy all of his regrets at Shiz. So he would be patient. Again.