AN: Okay, so I've been sick all week, and I was on here via iPod at one point when I was resting in my bedroom. I went and I re-read two of my favorite stories by one of my favorite authors on here, and in both stories, she managed to get some Daddy Fiyero Cuteness in there, and so I couldn't stop thinking about what a great dad he would be and blah blah blah, you know the drill.
SO GUESS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? I'm just hangin' around being sick, not doing anything of consequence, and I'm alone in the house, right? I get bored, and since I've had Come What May stuck in my head for god-knows-how-many-weeks-now, I decide to watch Moulin Rouge. So I get up and start heading over to the movie cabinet, pick up the DVD case, I'm looking for the remote that changes the darn input on the TV, when suddenly, out of nowhere...
WHA-CHAAA! PLOT BUNNEHZ COME SWARMING IN THROUGH THE DOG DOOR!
And one of them stops. And it looks me right in the eyes. AND THEN IT POOPS OUT A STORY IDEA EGG RIGHT ON THE TOP OF MY HEAD!
And thus, Contra Mundum was born.
PS: The phrase contra mundum is Latin for "against the world," for anyone who didn't already know
They were both small, and neither of them weighed as much as most children their age. He'd held them hundreds of times before, though not always both of them at the same time.
They looked no different from the last time he'd seen them, and he certainly hadn't expected them to after just an hour and a half. They felt different, though. Even kneeling on the floor without so much as shifting, they seemed a bit heavier than the last time he'd picked them up.
He didn't know what to do. There wasn't anywhere left for him to go. His mind was foggy and grief-stricken after what had happened. The one thing that had remained clear through it all was that he needed to get back to them as quickly as possible.
He wasn't quite sure how, but he'd managed to accomplish that much. He was back, they were in his arms. So now what? Her voice spoke from a place he couldn't see. He heard her clearly, though.
Yes, protect them. Get them to safety, keep them out of harm's way, hide them from the enemy. He couldn't let those men find out that they existed, that was the most important thing.
But right now, his main priority was getting them both as far away from here as possible. So that's exactly what he did. He gathered the bare essentials and put them into a leather satchel, took them both, and escaped in the dead of night. And in that moment, he knew:
Fiyero would do anything he felt was necessary to keep his four-year-old twins from harm.
AN: I know you're probably wondering: "What the devil is going on here? Why isn't Elphaba with him, did Maggie tie her up and stash her in a closet or something?"
And as a matter of fact, no. I did not tie her up and stash her in a closet. There is a reason for her absence that is an extremely major plot point. The story would not be able to move along if Elphaba came into the picture right now. I know that probably doesn't make very much sense, but I promise that it will make perfect sense later on, trust me. Please just bear with me for now, alright?
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for a medical condition that is very common among fic authors. It is a terminal disease that the Romans used to call insanabile cacoethes scribendi, otherwise known as "an incurable passion to write."