His flesh was indeed left untorn, and his blood certainly left no stain. Fiyero's lack of pain was, in fact, soul-numbing. What was happening to him? Was this Elphaba's doing? Of course it was! That book the Wizard gave her back when she thought he was wonderful...she must have used it to save him from the fury of the guards he once commanded.

The night had fallen. The guards had left long ago, assuming he was dead, ignorant to the spell that kept breath within his lungs. It was Elphaba's love that kept Fiyero alive, if this could be considered life. He was stuck on a pole, arms outstretched. Burlap had replaced his once smooth skin, and straw had consumed the space where his vital organs had once been.

The night went on and on, but not a single wink of sleep could he get now. He was left with his thoughts of Elphaba, and their last moments together.

He had followed her from Kiamo Ko against her request. He couldn't risk leaving Elphaba on her own. She had been devastated enough by the death of her sister, but when Elphaba saw Glinda give Nessa's shoes to that young girl, she was fit to be tied! At that moment Fiyero was glad he had followed her, just in case she decided to strangle her blonde, ex-roommate. And when Elphaba was suddenly surrounded by the Wizard's guards, Fiyero knew for sure he had done the right thing!


The look on the green girl's face as he pointed his rifle at Glinda was almost too much to bear. Her dead sister to her left and the only close friend she'd ever had at the end of a ready firearm...he could only imagine the fear Elphaba was feeling. He had to do it to save her, but Fiyero could almost feel her soul stir as he told her to flee.


She was beautiful, no doubt, but sometimes he wondered if she had a single thought in that head of hers. She had so easily fallen into the trap set by the Wizard and Morrible. It was all supposed to be Elphaba's: the fame, the glory, the place at the Wizard's right hand, but she wasn't willing to pay the toll that came with it. And when Elphaba turned from the temptation, it all fell in Glinda's unready lap.

The morning sun was beginning to show itself. Finally! He had never appreciated how many hours of life one slept through during the nighttime. What was he to do now? He struggled with the ropes that bound him to his wooden warden, but to no avail.

How Fiyero wished he could feel that beautiful morning sunshine on his face! But that life was over now. Physical existence would no longer be of any importance.

Just as this thought crossed Fiyero's mind, he could hear a sweet voice coming from the distance.

It was her! The girl who's house fell on Nessarose. She must have stopped to rest the evening before, for there she stood, wearing a blue and white gingham dress, her feet adorned with the silver shoes given to Nessa by Elphaba's father.

She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen years old. She had a naive look about her that confirmed her youth. She probably didn't know anything about the history of the shoes, only that they belonged to someone every Munchkin was glad to be rid of.

As she came to the junction by his corn field, she seemed perplexed.

She spoke softly to her little black dog.

"Which direction should we go now, Toto? That kind witch Glinda didn't say anything about the road splitting. She just said to take this one road the whole time. She must be bad with directions."

Fiyero chuckled slightly at this.

The girl sat on the blue fence surrounding his field. She seemed to be considering what her next move should be. Fiyero saw her glance into her little wicker basket. A few pieces of bread remained. She took a piece out, broke a bit off for her dog, and then ate some of it herself. He could hear it crunch from where he hung on the pole, it must have been old and stale.

His sympathies kicked in, and Fiyero decided to help her.

"Pardon me, but that road is quite pleasant."

Ok, so. Here it is! My first story in a long time.

I was inspired to write this after seeing Wicked for the third time last week. It was as wonderful as ever!

There are some differences. I made Dorothy more around Judy Garland's age, which will make sense as the story progresses. The rest is pretty much in accordance with the musical.

R&R please!