Avaric looked to the door. Since he wrote Traitor: The Life and Times of Fiyero Tiggular, he had gotten many fans, both of his writing and of his acting. Directors came asking for him in roles. The knock he heard a moment ago was probably another fan of his wanting his autograph on the book or a program. This time, he somehow managed to land the role of Fiyero in some avant garde musical glorifying the Witch. There was even a small part played by a member of the company that had his name, though he assumed it was something of a joke and would disappear when Avaric started a new play in a few months. (The director had told him ahead of time when the rehersals started, so that the role could be replaced in this play)

“Come in,” He said disinterested. Fans were a plague to him. He decided to look at the fan once. He was a man with dark skin. He had to be at least ten years younger than the actor, if not fifteen, although Avaric was well-preserved himself. It surprised Avaric that it was an Arjiki without any markings. The man quite resembled Fiyero only days before his death, although Avaric thought it coincidence, or perhaps he wasn’t remembering the Prince correctly.

“You’re Avaric Maelson?” he asked. His voice sounded familiar to Avaric, but he wasn’t sure how. “My how you have changed.”

“What would you know me from in which you hadn’t seen me?” It was quite the odd man. Avaric had been acting for most of this man’s life. He hadn’t served the Royal family for… was it twenty years now? It had to have been. That was most of this Arjiki’s life.

The fan shrugged. Avaric turned around in his chair. He hated looking at the fans. “Around, I guess. It’s been a while. Look, I’ve been reading your book.” He had been holding a copy the whole time, but he had it well disguised.

“Traitor? What did you think of it?” He knew what the answer was. When someone mentioned it and wasn’t a well-known critic, it was always enjoyed.

“It seemed incomplete really. You seemed to underestimate the prince when you were writing.” Avaric looked at the fan again. He actually had the nerve to voice an opinion. It pleased Avaric, to tell the truth. And he stood differently around the actor than most of his fans did. He stood… almost regally.

Avaric decided this one may be worth getting to know, if only because of his resemblance to the man he wrote the biography of. “You know, I find it odd.”

“What is it?”

“You’re Arjiki, are you not?”

The younger man nodded. “I am. If you’re going to ask how I escaped getting the tattoos, it’s a long story, but the short version is that I didn’t. I got them just like every other good little boy.”

“Then how can you not have them now?”

The man’s posture fell. It wasn’t something of pride. “It’s a long story that I can’t really sum up. You have other fans.”

Avaric looked at the man. It was best to finish the meeting and returned to the usual dialog he gave his fans. “I suppose you want an autograph.”

The man’s face brightened. “Of course I do.” He handed Avaric the book more than willingly.

Avaric grabbed a pen and started to dip it in the ink. “Who should I make it out to?”

The man smiled at him. It was crooked, much like the one the Wicked Witch bore on the posters advertising the play. “Your brother.”

Avaric stared for a moment. The man did look a lot like Fiyero did at age 25, if one got rid of his diamonds, but that might have just been Avaric's subconcious playing tricks on him. “I’ve gotten so many people claiming to be him just to see how I reacted. Although that’s the first time one phrased it that way.”

“You left an opening for me, though, just in case.”

“Did I now?”

“I didn’t say that I thought the Witch was simply pretty when I had the dream at fifteen. I said she was beautiful. When you asked about Glinda, I said Elphaba was much prettier. And I said ‘If that was how I was to die, I’m more willing to do so than my dream counterpart let on.' Even if I never really let it on afterwards and still treated it as a shock when I met Elphie in real life.”

Avaric stared again. Not only did he correctly guess the intentional error in the book, he managed to call the actual tale. “So, what did I understate about you?”

“You were my big brother. I didn’t let you call me that because it made you happy. I let you call me that because I wanted to be your little brother.”

“I guess the Witch saved you.”

“I’d die for my Elphie more often if it weren’t for the fact neither of us need to fear death. Sign the book and I’ll be off. We can’t stay in Oz too much longer.”

“Why?”

“I may be unrecognizable now, but she’s still green, and even the fans of this silly play don’t get anywhere near the color when they pretend to be her. I’m glad you wrote this, my brother. I’ll cherish it until I die.”

Avaric looked up from the book. “But you won’t.”

“Exactly.” Fiyero took the book and hugged Avaric. “I’ll miss you, ‘Ric. You’ll always be my big brother. If I come back for some reason, I’ll be sure to write you if it’s after today.”

A few days later he found a package at his apartment that bore a postmark that showed it came from the northern Vinkus. When he opened it, he found several papers held together with a piece of string. On top of the stack of papers was a letter, the more-bleached color showed it to be of more recent development.

Hey Ric,

By now, you should have run into me at one of your performances. I didn’t tell you then, but you looked really young, and did a pretty good job of playing me, beyond all the issues with the script. Also, Elphie and I spent a long time looking around places when no one could find us to locate these letters. My parents had to have moved them after they thought I died. I figured if you ever want to make a new version of your book, you can include your half of the letters we sent to each other when you were in college, or starting your own life instead of your guessing. I’ll run into you again if you do that. I’ll make sure of it.

Until then, my brother,

Fiyero Tiggular (With assistance from Elphaba Tiggular)

Avaric didn’t make a new version of the book at first, but he did arrange the letters together in the proper order, claiming he somehow found them by luck, and auctioned them off. A woman covered in many veils won it, and paid with cash.

They ended up back to him the next day, with a note chiding him for trying to get rid of it, but appreciated how it worked.

Then he wrote the new edition of the book.

Fiyero and Elphaba visited him often when he was alone in his apartment, and he learned the story from Elphaba’s view, he was tempted to write a version of that, had Lady Glinda not written one around the same time he wrote Traitor.

He lived the rest of his days peacefully, knowing that Fiyero was fine.

A final note: If you're upset at what Yero said about the play, it's not directed at the musical. I actually was thinking of something more like what disney would have done if they got their mitts on it before Universal. Although it would likely have a bit more slack than a Disney show, now I think of it. (Well, a better analogy for those that recognize it would be "The Ember Island Players" but Sale would have my butt for that.)

Addendum later added: It has come to my attention that some people seem to think that the play is Glinda's version, and were confused at why Elphie still needed to hide herself. I tried to make it clear through the writing, but I seemed to have falied at it. This is not what Glinda wrote. Glinda wrote a book, and it doesn't clear Elphaba's name, as Glinda promised Elphaba in "For Good." While I debated writing clips from it, I decided against it. Instead I'll cover what the worldbuilding says. The book Glinda wrote only covers act I of the muscial we're familiar with. She throws out a completely crazy theory that basically identifies the Witch as a malevolent formless entity that takes over Elphaba's body and kills her spirit, as Glinda also couldn't quite find the courage to give the Wizard and Morrible proper public denouncements (Saying Morrible's retired, and the Wizard left yadda yadda) and stuck to the lies Morrible spread.

Back to the play. note that most of the adjectives I use to describe it have a negative connotation, especially when used by Elphaba and Fiyero. It's often demeaned, as are its fans, both in-universe and in-narrative. It has a cult following, but altogether it has next to no fans who honestly believe the story as told by the director, although it is what the Director believes. The general consensus is it's an allegory for something else that happened to use events from five or ten years ago as a framing device and trying to be "Edgy." General consensus is also that he failed at it. Now back to the original final author's note:

My next story, should be, a retelling of one of Shakespeare's comedies but with our favorite characters in the roles. You can find some clips of it on the Green Generation of the Random Talk about Nothing thread in the BAS if you want to know what it's like. I can assure several misquotes from various Shakespeare plays, and at least one reference to a fanfic. (Also using the epithet for the wrong character)

Thank you so much for reading this story and it means a lot to me. -Runs before Sale notices-