So with this chapter we've finally made it to the new material that I've been working on for the past couple of months. I hope it flows well enough that the eleven year time gap between chapters isn't too noticeable, and that you enjoy the direction I ended up taking the story. Thanks again to anyone who's read or reviewed so far!
Once Fiyero had shown Elphaba to one of the bath chambers (and scurried away before his mind could drift to what would be happening in there) he set off in search of his other travel companion. Glinda had never been to Kiamo Ko either, but the woman knew her way around a castle. Fiyero was certain she would have already laid claim to one of the larger bedrooms. Sure enough, he found her in the master suite, already rifling through a large armoire.
"Go away," she grumbled, not even bothering to extract herself from among a collection of his mother's old dresses.
"Glinda, we should really talk about this," he said, moving further into the room.
"What's there to talk about?" she snapped, her face finally appearing around the heavy wooden door. Her hair was still wet from her recent bath, and her blond curls clung to the back of her neck. "I'm stuck in a musty old castle with the man who dumped me and the woman he did it for."
Fiyero braced himself against the force of her anger. "I already told you that this isn't about Elphaba," he insisted. He sighed and continued, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm not doing this to hurt you."
She turned away from the armoire to face him fully. "Well doesn't that just make me feel better?" she said. "I did everything I could to be perfect for you. Perfect for us. And even that wasn't enough."
"Maybe there's more to love than being perfect," he responded. "Maybe there's more to life than just doing what we're supposed to."
"And what's wrong with doing what we're supposed to?" she asked, stamping her foot like a petulant child. "What's wrong with wanting a perfect happily ever after? Who wouldn't want that?"
"You know who wouldn't," Fiyero replied.
"I thought you said this wasn't about Elphaba," Glinda said, narrowing her eyes.
Fiyero didn't have an immediate response to that, and the two stood staring across the bedroom at each other for a few tense moments longer. Finally, Glinda seemed to deflate, apparently conceding that her words weren't getting through to him.
She gave a short sigh and said, "I suppose there's no changing your mind?"
Fiyero shook his head. "No," he answered sadly.
Glinda held his gaze forcefully for a few seconds longer, before the rest of the fight visibly went out of her. "This would be a lot easier if I wasn't stuck in a castle with the two of you and could pretend that you no longer exist."
Fiyero smiled sadly at her and then, gathering up what remained of his courage, he closed the distance between them and pulled the woman before him into a hug. "Would it help if I let you keep the master suite?" he asked gently. He chuckled despite himself as he felt the blond start nodding into his chest.
They stayed like that for almost a minute before Glinda finally pulled away, sniffling softly. Fiyero could feel the damp marks she'd left on his shirt. "Where do we go from here?" Glinda asked, raising her eyes to meet his.
"I have no idea," Fiyero answered truthfully. "At least not for myself. I'm through with the Emerald City. I'll probably stay here in the Vinkus for now, where it's safer for me." He didn't add 'and Elphaba', but he could tell from the slight shift in Glinda's expression that the unspoken words were understood. He took another long look at the woman before him and said, "I think you should go back."
Glinda seemed both sad and indignant at the suggestion. "Trying to get rid of me already?" she asked. He could tell she tried to play it off as a jest, but there was a distinct note of bitterness to her voice.
"Of course not," Fiyero said earnestly. "You're welcome here for as long as you'd like. But you heard what Elphaba said. The Wizard and Morrible have made you a victim. You can go back to the palace and continue your work as Glinda the Good. You've never needed me to achieve that."
Glinda chuckled bitterly at the suggestion. "Why does it feel like getting what I want always seems to come at the cost of the people I care about most?" The question appeared to be rhetorical, for she went on without waiting for an answer. Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, she said, "You are right of course." Her voice was still shaky but suffused with whatever confidence she could muster. "The people do need me. Who else will lift their spirits during these troubled times?" Her face became more serious after a moment, and she added, "If we can find a reliable way to stay in touch, I can keep you updated on what the Wizard and Morrible are up to."
Fiyero was momentarily surprised by the offer, but he recovered and said, "I'm sure we can think of something."
With that, Glinda had apparently decided that their conversation was over. Her expression changed to one of frustration and she pushed off of Fiyero's chest with a light shove. "Now get out," she demanded, though there was no real force behind her words. "I need to make myself presentable."
Fiyero had no time to formulate a response before he was ejected into the hall and the door slammed shut firmly behind him. He turned back to stare at the heavy wooden door for a moment, contemplating the trajectory of his conversation with Glinda. He supposed that, all things considered, it could have gone worse.
Feeling as though a weight had lifted now that the dreaded confrontation with his ex-fiancée was behind him, Fiyero strolled the halls of Kiamo Ko aimlessly. They had been traveling for so many days just trying to reach safety and, now that Fiyero was here, he found he was coming up short on what to do next.
Fiyero rounded a corner and found himself back at the main staircase near the entryway. The two guards on duty jumped slightly at his sudden appearance and then stood at attention. Instead of the usual stony, respectful expressions Fiyero expected, the guards eyed him warily as he passed. Fiyero supposed the mysterious circumstances of his arrival, and the even more bizarre company he was keeping, must have set them on edge.
Fiyero recalled his earlier conversation with Elphaba and realized it would be best to set the record straight as soon as possible. Taking the stairs two at a time, he made his way up to the bedroom he'd frequented the few times his family had visited the castle. He pushed the heavy door open and ignored the flutterings of nostalgia that assaulted him as he stepped into the room. It looked exactly as the teenage version of himself had left it years ago. A few small books and some arrowheads lay scattered across the surface of the desk against the far wall, along with a small, lumpy wooden wolf that had resulted from one of Fiyero's feeble attempts at whittling. His old hunting spear and a pair of boots, definitely too small for him now, lay propped in the corner near the window. Fiyero ran a hand over the spear as he glanced out the window over the grounds, remembering past days spent tumbling in the grass with his cousins under far less grueling circumstances.
The last time his family had visited Kiamo Ko had been for his grandfather's funeral. There had been a large burial ceremony in honor of the late king, and Kiamo Ko had been the most central location for the family to retire to afterwards. Fiyero had two sets of aunts and uncles, both on his father's side, and six cousins, three male and three female. When they were younger, Fiyero's cousins had looked up to him because he was the oldest. He'd been the leader in all of their games and adventures. Yet as they'd grown older and Fiyero had proven himself a disappointment, the dynamic between them had shifted.
Fiyero sighed, turning from the window to take a seat at the desk. He pushed away some of the clutter with the back of his hand and retrieved a piece of paper and a fountain pen from the small wooden drawer in the front. He stared down at the blank page for a few moments, trying to wrangle his turbulent thoughts into something coherent, and then he began to write.
Dear Mother and Father,
I hope this letter finds you both well. I know there has been some concerning news as to my whereabouts the past few weeks, and I wanted to write you to assure you that I'm fine and that I've made it safely back to the Vinkus. I'm sure that by now word has reached you from the Emerald City that I'm a traitor, but I hope you trust in my character enough to realize that's not the whole truth. I won't say anymore here, on the off chance that this letter is intercepted, but I hope to find time to explain myself in person very soon.
Fiyero chewed the back of his pen in thought, debating, before he steeled himself and added.
Also, I thought it only right to inform you that I have ended my engagement to Glinda Upland. I understand that this was a set arrangement, and I deeply regret any difficulty or embarrassment my actions may cause you.
Your Son,
Fiyero
Fiyero signed the letter with a flourish and stuffed it into an envelope before he could second guess himself. He knew what he'd written was vague and would probably leave his parents with more questions than answers, but it would at least serve to set their minds at ease regarding his whereabouts and safety. The rest of it could be explained in time.
His task finished, Fiyero sealed the envelope and dropped it onto his desk for the time being. He slid his chair back and stood, stretching as he took another glance around the room. He realized that he was still wearing the oversized clothes he'd received at the Animal camp three days ago, along with a fine layer of grime that had accumulated from his travels. He decided it might be best to follow his female companions' lead and get himself cleaned up.
Fiyero crossed the room to the armoire and tugged the wooden doors open with some effort, the hinges resisting him after years of disuse. He cringed inwardly at his teenage self as he rifled through its contents. At fifteen he'd fancied himself a hunter, as evidenced by the several articles of traditional tribal wear that occupied the hangers. Fiyero pushed them aside and pulled out a simple pair of brown trousers. He held them against his waist and found that the legs only reached midway down his calves.
Fiyero replaced them with a sigh, realizing he was going to have to borrow something belonging to his father or one of his uncles. He exited his old room and went searching through several of the guest rooms until he managed to scrounge up a pair of grey trousers and an old sweater that fit him well enough. He returned to his bedroom to retrieve the letter to his parents, and then made his way back down the stairs to the main hall.
The guards snapped to attention once again as he appeared at the top of the stairs, still watching him with a bit more trepidation than Fiyero would have preferred. He stopped before them, shifting the bundle of clothes in his arms slightly, and held out the letter.
"I need this letter delivered to the king and queen at once," he said with all of the authority he could manage in his shabby state.
"Right away, Your Highness," one of the men said as he accepted the envelope. Without another word, he turned and retreated down the hall. Fiyero gave a short nod to the remaining guard, and then turned and continued on to the bath chambers.
The chamber he'd guided Elphaba to earlier was empty, but there was still residual steam in the air and clinging to the glass of the mirror, so she couldn't have been gone for long. Fiyero closed the door behind him and dropped his bundle of clothes onto the sink, sparing only a quick glance into the foggy mirror at the disheveled hair and unkempt beard that had resulted from several days of travel. He turned the taps, stripped off his dirty clothes, and waited somewhat impatiently for the large tub to fill.
Fiyero sighed deeply as he slipped beneath the warm water, the last of the tension finally fleeing him as his aching muscles relaxed. It seemed like an eternity since he'd last been able to let his guard down completely. The events of the past few days drifted through his tired mind in fits and spurts as he half dozed beneath the water.
He emerged from the washroom sometime later, scrubbed clean and freshly shaven, and nearly walked directly into Torvok. The captain of Fiyero's household guard was standing directly outside the washroom door, apparently waiting to ambush him. Fiyero just managed to hold back a frightened yelp at the unexpected presence.
"Master Fiyero," Torvok said, clearly a bit nervous. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but the men are a little bit on edge. There's been a lot of conflicting information coming in about you over the past few days. First we heard that you'd been captured by the Wicked Witch of the West, then that you had been imprisoned in the Emerald City for aiding her. Now you've shown up without warning, with both the Witch and Lady Glinda in tow. We're just a bit confused."
Fiyero pushed his wet hair away from his forehead as he contemplated how best to explain the events of the past several days. "It's all been a bit…complicated," he started, disregarding just how much of an understatement that was. "As I've mentioned, the Witch's name is Elphaba. She's a friend of mine, and she's really not what the rumors make her out to be. I promise no harm will come to any of you on her part. You know I wouldn't have brought her here if she posed any sort of threat."
The captain still seemed uneasy. He was wringing his hands in a way that reminded Fiyero of a certain Lion, and he would not meet the prince's eyes. "Well, there's just some worry, Your Highness…I mean some of the men are concerned that you've been…bewitched." He dropped his voice low as he said the last word, finally turning to face Fiyero.
Fiyero merely blinked at him. "Bewitched," he repeated.
"Erm, yes, sire," Torvok said with some uncertainty. "You and the Lady Glinda. This is just so unlike you both."
Fiyero was still trying to wrap his head around the accusation. He supposed he understood where it came from, but he didn't exactly know how to dispel it. "And if I were bewitched, do you think I would be inclined to admit it?" he asked slowly.
Torvok gaped at him for a moment, clearly not having considered that vital piece of information. "No, I suppose not," he said, confusion evident on his face.
"Torvok," Fiyero said pointedly.
"Yes, sire?" he responded, seeming more and more sheepish as the conversation went on.
"I'm not bewitched," Fiyero said flatly. For good measure he added, "Lady Glinda is a powerful witch herself. Do you think she would allow either of us to fall under someone else's thrall?" He knew he was stretching the truth of Glinda's abilities by quite a wide margin, but the captain certainly didn't.
"No, of course not, Your Highness!" Torvok said quickly, clearly not keen on the prospect of insulting Glinda, "You're right, of course. I wasn't thinking. I'll speak with the men and set their minds at ease." With that Torvok saluted, turned, and disappeared back down the hall to Fiyero's left.
Fiyero couldn't help but worry that this particular issue was not yet fully resolved, but he knew the guards were merely looking out for his safety. He supposed it was rather suspicious that he'd arrived, unannounced, in the company of Oz's most infamous fugitive. Fiyero didn't think his men were versed enough in the goings on of the Emerald City to know that he had been tasked with her capture for the past two years, but it still must seem entirely strange to them.
Deciding that he could worry about the castle's rumor mill later, Fiyero next set his sights on the kitchens. It had been entirely too long since he'd eaten a meal that hadn't involved pre-packaged military rations. There were no regular cooks on duty when the castle wasn't in use, but Fiyero was certain that even his own meager and neglected culinary skills would be enough to cobble something together.
To his surprise, he found that the kitchens weren't empty when he arrived. Elphaba and Glinda were both already present, the former standing awkwardly off to the side while the latter rifled through the pantry. Fiyero was pleasantly surprised to find Elphaba out and about. He'd thought she would want to stay holed up in the north tower until she'd gotten her bearings. He supposed Glinda had likely had a hand in dragging Elphaba from her chosen refuge.
Both women turned to look at him as he entered. They had both traded the familiar travel clothes Fiyero had grown used to for fresh outfits. Elphaba had swapped her heavy black dress for one of the simple navy ones Fiyero had provided earlier, and her previously wild hair had been noticeably tamed. The effect made her look about five years younger and not even marginally as imposing as she'd seemed with her cloak and pointed black hat. Glinda had donned a short lavender dress that Fiyero had never even seen before. She'd likely made short work of combing through the various rooms of the castle for the choicest fashion options.
"Oh good, there you are, Fiyero. Be a dear and peel these," Galinda said, thrusting an armful of potatoes at him. She had clearly chosen to act as though their earlier conversation hadn't happened. Fiyero wasn't prepared and fumbled as he accepted the produce, wincing as a potato bounced off his shoe and rolled across the kitchen floor.
"What's going on in here, then?" he asked, depositing the armful of potatoes onto the countertop as he darted after the one that had escaped.
"We're making dinner, obviously," Glinda said as she fished an onion out of the panty. "Since this is apparently the sort of castle that doesn't have proper kitchen staff."
"No one lives here," Fiyero said incredulously as he plucked the stray potato off the floor and cleaned it on the leg of his trousers. Glinda gave him a look of vague horror as he did so.
"What about the guards?" Glinda countered as she continued to busy herself about the kitchen.
"You want my family to employ a chef to feed twenty or so household guards?" Fiyero asked.
"Well, it's not as though you couldn't afford it," Glinda said matter-of-factly. She turned to Elphaba, who until this moment had been making herself scarce in the corner, and said "Elphie, be a dear and pass me one of those knives."
Fiyero had heard Glinda utter the nickname before, but the circumstances at the time had been so dire that he hadn't quite registered it. Now, in the warm safety of the castle kitchens, he allowed himself to feel deeply amused. "You let her call you 'Elphie'?" he asked, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice as he turned to face Elphaba.
She had just removed a rather large chef's knife from the counter behind her and the blade drew level with Fiyero's chest as she turned back around to face him. Fiyero didn't suppose he could have chosen a worse moment to ask that question.
"Yes," she said, brandishing the knife with a note of warning in her voice, "and it's a non-transferable privilege."
Fiyero held his hands up in front of him in a gesture of surrender, just as Glinda flitted past and plucked the knife out her friend's hand. "Thank you, Elphie," she chirped, using the cutesy nickname again for good measure. Elphaba's cheeks flushed as her hand dropped back to her side. Glinda hefted a large cooking pot onto the counter and Elphaba dutifully began to fill it in the kitchen sink without another word.
The rest of the meal preparation went by uneventfully. Fiyero found himself surprised by the easy camaraderie he felt as the three of them bustled about the kitchen. He had lived with Glinda for two years and had never seen her like this. She seemed so unpolished and relaxed and casual. It dawned on him that perhaps she hid behind the mask of her public persona in much the same way that Elphaba did, and that even he had never seen beyond it in any meaningful capacity. It occurred to Fiyero that he had come exceedingly close to marrying a complete stranger.
His rapport with Elphaba somehow felt like the complete opposite. Though he'd only known her for a little under two weeks and had spent a significant portion of that time worried that she would hex him to death, he felt as though she'd been in his life for much longer. Elphaba, for her part, still seemed uneasy within the walls of the castle. She was clearly on edge, and Fiyero noted the way her eyes seemed to sweep the room every few moments as though making herself aware of the exits. He supposed that there were habits borne of being on the run for so long that were not easy to simply shrug off.
Still, as the three of them set their steaming bowls of lentil stew around the far-too-large dining table adjacent to the kitchen, Fiyero watched as some of the tension in her shoulders finally released. The three of them ate in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the first warm meal they'd had in days, before Glinda finally spoke. "Elphie and I were discussing a way that I might be able to keep in touch after I return to the Emerald City," she said casually, as though discussing dinner plans and not what could invariably be classified as treason.
Fiyero looked up from his bowl with interest at her words, waiting for her to continue. Instead, it was Elphaba who said, "The flying Monkeys. You reminded me earlier that I still haven't made up for what I did to them. I'm going back to the Emerald Palace with Glinda and I'm going to set them free."
Fiyero's eyes widened at the prospect, and he almost choked on a bite of his stew. "Are you insane," he gasped. "You've narrowly escaped being captured at the palace twice in the past two weeks. They'll be ready for you if you return. They won't let you slip away again."
Elphaba held her head up defiantly in the face of his skepticism. "They won't even know I'm there," she said. "We're going to use Glinda's return as a distraction. While she plays the escaped damsel for the guards at the gate, I'm going to sneak into the Wizard's throne room and release them."
"And you don't think there will be guards in the throne room?" Fiyero asked.
"I can handle a couple of guards," Elphaba said, in a way that suggested that she wasn't bragging but merely stating a fact.
"There will be more than a couple," Fiyero argued. "The palace is extremely well guarded, especially around the throne room. Even if you distract the guards at the front gate, there would be more than enough to stop you if they catch you up there."
"Then I'll be certain that they don't catch me," Elphaba responded defiantly.
"This is insane!" Fiyero stammered. He turned his attention to entreat Glinda instead and asked, "You can't seriously think this is a good idea?" He expected his ex-fiancée to acquiesce as she so often had when they were still together, and so he was surprised when he met her gaze and found that it held almost as much stubborn determination as Elphaba's.
"I haven't always been a great friend," she said, pointedly ignoring the way Elphaba opened her mouth to respond. "I was selfish and a coward the first time around. I still am in a lot of ways. I'm certainly not as willing to give up everything I have as you two seem to be. But I've had a lot of time to regret my decisions the past two years. And if this is what Elphaba feels we must do to make some of it right, then I'm willing to help in any way I can."
Elphaba seemed temporarily dumbstruck by her friend's words. "Glinda," she started, her voice thick with emotion.
Fiyero cut her off. "Then let me come with you too," he said stubbornly, glancing back and forth between the two of them.
Elphaba shook her head immediately and said, "You'll only slow us down. Glinda has her bubble and I, my broomstick. Either of us is capable of escaping on our own if something goes wrong. If you were to come, we'd have to keep tabs on you constantly, and you would slow our retreat. It's best if you stay here in the Vinkus where you're safe from the Wizard's reach."
"So, you're saying I'm useless then," Fiyero said, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.
"Not at all," Elphaba responded. "Someone will need to explain to your guards when I return with a dozen flying Monkeys."
Fiyero's eyes widened further, if that were possible. "You want to bring the Monkeys here?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, where else are they going to go?" Elphaba asked, as though he was the unreasonable one. "It would only be temporary," she pleaded. "Just until it's safe enough to integrate them into the Animal camps."
Fiyero sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He'd already realized that this was a fight he wasn't going to win. "And when do you two expect to put this plan into action," he grumbled through his fingers.
Glinda answered this time. "In three days," she said. "Enough time for us to rest and for Elphaba to memorize the necessary spells."
"You're not bringing your spell book with you either?" Fiyero groaned. He was hating this plan more and more by the second.
"I can't," Elphaba responded. "Morrible would love to get her hands on the Grimmerie again. I'm not willing to risk it. I'm going to trust you to look after it while I'm gone."
Fiyero couldn't help but feel that she was only trying to flatter his ego. He also found that it worked. "How long do you think you'll be gone?" he asked, conceding once again.
"If all goes well, no more than two days," Elphaba responded.
"You must realize that if I don't hear anything from either of you in that amount of time, I will most certainly be coming after you," he said.
"Don't be ridiculous, Fiyero," Elphaba said. "What could you possibly do to help me in the event of my capture?"
"You forget that I have the entire military power of the Vinkus at my disposal," Fiyero shot back. He was stretching the truth just a little. Technically it was his father who commanded the army, but if it came down to it, Fiyero would find a way to rally the troops to his cause.
"You'd start a war over me?" Elphaba asked, a healthy amount of sarcasm apparent in her tone.
"Wars have been started for less," Fiyero shot back, narrowing his eyes.
The two glared at each other across the table for a few moments longer while Glinda glanced silently back and forth between them. Elphaba broke first. "Men," she grumbled with annoyance, rolling her eyes as she pushed her chair back and stood. Without any further argument, she collected her plate and disappeared into the kitchen.