AN: This is not an official Fiyeraba February prompt, but someone in the Fiyeraba February discord group did ask for a post-Thank Goodness fanfiction from Fiyero's POV. So here it is. The ending is abit different from the musical though.
tw: self-harm
"Congratulotions!"
"What good news, Captain!"
"This is the greatest news I've heard in years!"
"May Lurline bless you and Glinda the Good, Captain."
Fiyero squeezed his way through the crowd, muttering excuse mes, smiling at unfamiliar faces, and giving monosyllabic thanks.
Thanked them for their well wishes on his engagement.
His engagement.
His engagement to Glinda, the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the whole of Oz.
The most beautiful and…
The most…
The most…
For Oz's sake. Whatever possessed her to spring that on him?
Fiyero smiled as another person congratulated him, his smile strained and his teeth aching.
Someone from his team said something with a laugh as he clapped him on his back.
Fiyero gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. He had no idea what he was nodding for. He wondered if the other person noticed it. On other days, he would hope that no one noticed the strain of his smile, how it never touched his eyes. He wished that he had the guts to tell everyone how he felt. He wished that he had the guts to grip his teammate by his shoulders and shake him. He moved on before he could give in to impulse.
At long last, he made his way through the crowd and out of the celebration square. Behind him, Madame Morrible shared her latest plans to capture the Wicked Witch of the West, her voice dripping with distaste and venom, and the crowd cheered again, their claps thunderous, the sound bouncing off the walls of the buildings around them.
He felt like turning back to shout at her, to raise his fist in anger. But he moved on.
There was only one place in the whole of Oz where he could be himself - his accommodation in the barracks. As Captain, he did not have to bunk with the rest of the Gale Force. Instead, he had his own bedroom that was next to the barracks, surrounded by hundreds of men whose sole aim in their career was to capture the Wicked Witch of the West.
What irony.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wooden door.
Oz.
He staggered to the bathroom and washed his face with icy cold water, letting the water dripped onto his uniform and the floor. He looked into the mirror, at the stranger with bloodshot eyes who looked back, the disgust in his eyes before he looked away. He did not remember when, but he could no longer look at himself in the mirror.
He dropped his head and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before he exhaled, and repeated the actions. And again. But the tightness in his chest refused to go away.
He swore.
Out of the bathroom, Fiyero moved to the cupboard and poured himself a drink. It was still early, and he had to turn up for his shift later, but he needed this. He finished his drink and poured himself another and finished that too.
What a joke he had become.
Whatever possessed her to announce that they were getting married? She knew that he was not in love with her; he was never in love with her. Sure, they had flirted when they first met in Shiz and had gone on a few dates, but whatever feelings and excitement they had fizzled the moment Elphaba came into the picture. He did not know it then, but he knew now. Glinda did not have a chance at all, not when the other girl was passionate, brave and outspoken, everything he wanted to be. Not when she hit him like a fireball and burnt into his mind and soul.
How he wished that it was not an engagement between him and Glinda, but between him and Elphaba. Fiyero closed his eyes, a vision coming into his mind. Elphaba, standing by his side as they made the announcement, their fingers interlocked. She would still be green because she acknowledged her verdigris and would not have accepted the Wizard's offer to degreenify her. The crowd would cheer as they announced their engagement - a celebration throughout Oz. And she would look at him with a smile and so much love in her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her.
Fiyero gave a bitter laugh with his eyes still closed. What a joke. He knew that it was all wistful thinking on his part. Why would Elphaba be interested in him? He was that dumb, brainless prince who partied through life, who was disengaged and disruptive during lessons. He did not speak up for Animal rights when he could have, and he kept quiet when she was declared a traitor to Oz. He had cowered just like the rest of Shiz. She would never be interested in a coward like him. For all he knew, she could be in the arms of another man at this very moment, someone who shared her beliefs and was willing to give up his family and risk his life to ensure that Animals are safe, and the wrongs are righted. Not someone who worked for the Wizard and who was too timid to speak up for the inequality that he saw day in and out.
He had accused Glinda of not willing to walk away, but deep inside, he knew that he was no better. He could have said that he signed up for the Gale Force because he wanted to search for Elphaba, to sabotage the Wizard's plans from within, to be a spy. But how much had he done? Sure, he had released some Animals when no one was watching, and had looked the other way when he spotted some Animals that he should have arrested, but he had also kept quiet when the anti-Animal propaganda was being spoken, and had imprisoned some Animals as a show of his loyalty. He was no better than Glinda. No, he was worse than her. He was a hypocrite, a liar and a coward. And he did not deserve Elphaba to spare him a single thought.
Elphaba.
If only he had done something before she had left. He had so many chances. He could have attempted to be closer to her, to get her to trust him so that she would confide in him. He could have dated her, spoken up on the unfairness that he had seen, and his solidarity could have prevented her from flying off the handle. He could have offered to go to the Emerald City with her; he would be there when the Wizard and Madame Morrible declared her as the traitor of Oz, he could have said something that could turn the situation around. Oz, he was an Arjiki prince, royalty, and the Wizard and Madame Morrible might have second thoughts about making use of Elphaba's sorcery skills to make the Monkeys fly in his presence and she would still be safe. If he were there, he would go with the girls as they ran up to the highest tower of the Wizard's palace. He would sacrifice himself to fend off the Gale Force to give the girls more time to escape.
He would fly off with her on that hideodeous broom, together branded traitors.
He took off his clothes as he took a third drink, leaving his boxers. From afar, nothing seemed amiss. But on closer look, one could see faint lines of a lighter colour on his thighs, his legs. There were so many lines, criss-crossing one another, uncountable. He took out a short dagger from a drawer. It was a gift from his father. The handle was carved with Arijiki designs, birds and trees, to remind him of the Thousand Year Grasslands. He pressed the blade against his thigh, next to a faint line, pressed it down and hissed as his skin broke.
He watched as a thin line of bright red appeared, bubbling thicker as the pressure increased. A short horizontal line. He paused, focusing on the pain as his breathing became shallow. He ran a finger along the wound, smudging the blood around his skin.
He paused again before he chose another spot, a longer vertical line this time, parallel to the first one. Longer, and deeper, but not so deep that it could not recover easily and inhibited his job. It would not do if his team or Glinda knew about it. He chuckled, bitter and low. He wished that he had the guts to throw all these considerations away. It was his skin and his pain, so why must he think so much before every action, every word?
Sometimes he'd dreamt about her. He was not there when she sat on the broom and flew away; he had only heard from Glinda what had happened, but he had dreamt about that scene so many times since then. Elphaba with the black robe that Glinda had tied around her neck billowing in the wind as the Gale Force tried to bring her down. Sometimes, she would fly away to safety in his dreams, but sometimes the broom would suddenly stop working and she would plunge to her death, and Fiyero would wake up gasping for air and unable to sleep for the rest of the night, afraid that what he dreamt was real.
He dipped his finger into his blood and wrote her name on his skin, pressing the wound to get more blood whenever he ran out of the red ink. Elphaba. The ink would dry and would remain there until the next shower, out of sight, but as good as if he had carved it on his heart. It was his ritual, just like how the Arijikis would spill the blood of the biggest bull in summer as a sacrifice to the Vinkun gods so that the tribe would remain safe during their annual hunt.
It was only when it was done that he felt something, as the tightness in his chest faded and life slowly slipped back into him. He watched as the blood dripped to the floor, staining the dark wood black.
"Elphaba…" He finally gave himself the right to say her name, soft and low. "Elphaba…"
Outside, a group of soldiers walked past as they came back from the celebration square, breaking into his thoughts. He could hear cheers and laughter amongst the mix of words. His hands clenched as he heard their words - they were talking about the engagement announcement, making crude jokes about the wedding night and whether their Captain would bring back the head of the Wicked Witch of the West as a wedding gift to his wife, and he could stand it no longer.
He was still scared, scared of consequences, of making things worse, of failure, but he could not stay in the city anymore and continued with the charade. The hell with everything. He had to go. He had to look for her instead of living another day of pretence, not knowing where she was or if she was safe.
He would find her or die trying.