Chapter Text
Elphaba had spent three hours making flyers only to leave every single one of them sitting on her desk.
The realization hit her halfway across campus.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, quickening her pace as the bells signaling the end of afternoon lectures rang out across Shiz. Students poured into the corridors around her in noisy clusters, forcing her to weave between them as she glanced down at her watch.
Ten minutes.
The Animal Student Union meeting was starting in ten minutes, and she still had to make it back to her dorm room, grab the flyers, and cross half the campus again to get to Ozma Towers before everyone else arrived.
“Green means go, go, go!”
Laughter erupted somewhere behind her.
Elphaba clenched her jaw but kept moving.
She had long since learned that acknowledging comments like that only encouraged them.
By the time she reached the doors of Crage Hall, she was slightly out of breath. She hurried up the stairs, pushing open the door to her room hard enough that it bounced lightly against the wall.
Galinda looked up from where she was sprawled across her bed, the Shiz Gazette newsletter spread open in front of her.
“Elphaba,” she said, blinking in surprise. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Elphaba muttered distractedly as she crossed the room to her side. Compared to the explosion of pinks, creams, and decorative pillows occupying Galinda’s half of the dorm, Elphaba’s side looked almost painfully bare.
She let out a small breath of relief when she spotted the stack of flyers sitting exactly where she’d left them.
“There you are,” she murmured, gathering them quickly into her arms before rifling through the stack to make sure she hadn’t forgotten any pages.
“Have you heard?” Galinda asked, excitement creeping into her voice. “Prince Fiyero is arriving at Shiz today. Everyone’s talking about it.”
Elphaba glanced briefly toward the newsletter in her hands. A large photograph of the prince smiled back at her from the front page beneath some unnecessarily dramatic headline.
Galinda pressed the newsletter lightly against her chest with a dreamy sigh.
“He’s gorgeous.”
“That’s nice,” Elphaba said absently, straightening the flyers against the edge of her desk. “Some of us have more important things to worry about.”
Galinda frowned slightly at that, though whether from annoyance or confusion, Elphaba couldn’t tell.
“Well,” she huffed, “some of us are capable of caring about more than one thing at once.”
Elphaba let out a quiet breath through her nose, already moving back toward the door.
“I’ll see you later.”
And before Galinda could say anything else, she hurried back out into the crowded halls and headed toward Ozma Towers.
She slipped into the small, dimly lit classroom where the others had already gathered around a cluster of desks pushed together into a makeshift table near the back wall. They were already deep in conversation by the time she arrived, half-eaten lunches and scattered papers spread across the desks.
“Sorry I’m late,” Elphaba said, still catching her breath as she dropped the stack of flyers onto the table.
Boq glanced up from where he was organizing sign-up sheets. “You made it before Nyliss started threatening revolution again, so I’d call that early.”
“I heard that,” Nyliss muttered from across the table.
A few quiet laughs rippled through the group as Elphaba slid into one of the empty chairs, already pulling a flyer from the stack.
“We only have twenty minutes before next lecture,” she said, smoothing the paper flat against a desk, “so let’s make sure we’re all on the same page for later.”
The room settled slightly.
“Shiz claims to stand for enlightenment and learning,” Tieran said, leaning forward onto his elbows, “but when was the last time any of us saw an Animal student actually studying here?”
No one answered.
Because they hadn’t.
“Dr. Dillamond said the university denied another accessibility request last week,” Ireya said quietly. “Apparently there weren’t enough resources.”
Nyliss let out a bitter laugh. “Funny how they always seem to have resources for everything else.”
Elphaba’s grip tightened slightly around the edge of the flyer in her hands.
Just last week she had watched Dr. Dillamond struggle to carry a stack of books across campus while students openly mocked him as they passed. None of the faculty had stepped in. Most hadn’t even looked.
“They want Animals teaching less,” Nyliss continued, anger sharpening his voice. “And they definitely don’t want them studying here.”
A heavy silence settled briefly over the room before Elphaba pushed forward.
“We meet by the bell tower at four,” Elphaba continued, holding up one of the flyers. “We hand these out before the crowd gathers, then we begin the speeches once everyone’s in position.”
Boq gave a small nod. “I got the permit approved this morning.”
“Barely,” Nyliss muttered.
Elphaba ignored him.
“We’re not going to get in trouble for this, are we?” Ireya asked quietly, glancing between them with visible unease. “Because Dean Hadstrom already looked irritated the last time we set up outside the west courtyard.”
“This is a peaceful protest,” Elphaba said firmly. “We’re not breaking any rules.”
“Peaceful doesn’t get anyone to listen,” Nyliss cut in, slamming his hand against the desk hard enough to rattle the cups sitting near the edge. “We keep asking politely and nothing changes.”
A tense silence flickered briefly across the room.
Then Elphaba straightened in her chair slightly.
“We do this peacefully,” she repeated, calm but unwavering. “That’s how we make sure they hear us.”
They spent the remainder of the meeting organizing flyers, finishing signs, and running through speeches one final time before everyone headed off to their next lectures.
Elphaba stayed behind a few extra minutes to straighten the classroom back into order. By the time she stacked the scattered papers into neat piles and switched off the lights, the halls outside had mostly emptied.
She adjusted the flyers against her chest and stepped out into the corridor, already mentally reviewing the protest schedule as she walked toward her next class.
Then she stopped short.
She saw her sister further down the hall, her wheelchair paused near the windows lining the corridor.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Nessa looked almost as though she intended to come over.
But then her gaze dropped to the stack of flyers in Elphaba’s arms.
The shift in her expression was immediate.
Her mouth tightened slightly.
Disappointment. Frustration. Maybe even embarrassment.
Elphaba couldn’t quite tell anymore.
Without saying a word, Nessa turned her chair sharply and headed down the opposite hallway instead.
Elphaba stood there for a second longer, watching her go.
Something tightened painfully in her chest.
But after a moment, she let out a slow breath and adjusted the flyers in her grip once more.
The protest needed her attention right now.
And so she forced herself to keep walking.
* * *
By the time Fiyero stepped into the quad beside Feldspur, half the campus already seemed to know he had arrived.
Conversations faltered as heads turned in his direction, followed almost immediately by a wave of excited whispering that rippled through the courtyard. Students crowded the stone walkways and leaned over the upper balconies overlooking the quad, all trying to catch a glimpse of the prince from the Vinkus.
“You realize they’re looking at you like you’ve descended from the heavens,” the Horse muttered as they walked further into the quad.
Fiyero let out a quiet laugh, nodding toward the group of students near the fountain who had already dissolved into nervous giggling.
“You should be used to this by now, Felds,” he said easily, lifting a hand in greeting as students continued parting around them to clear a path through the courtyard. “Besides, I probably won’t last any longer at this school than the others.”
A group of girls rushed toward him almost immediately, their faces bright with excitement.
“Are you really a prince?” one of them asked breathlessly.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Fiyero sighed dramatically.
The girls burst into laughter.
A second later he flashed them an easy grin, and the entire group seemed to melt all over again.
Behind him, Feldspur snorted quietly.
“Go on, Prince,” he said, nudging Fiyero lightly with his muzzle. “I’ll give you a moment to bask in your glory. I’m heading to the stables.”
Fiyero laughed under his breath and patted the Horse’s neck before continuing further into the quad.
He unfolded the class schedule Dean Hadstrom had handed him earlier that morning, scanning the buildings surrounding the courtyard while half-listening to the chatter still following him as he passed.
Briscoe Hall.
Now where in Oz was that?
“Are you looking for something?”
Fiyero glanced up to find a pretty blonde girl dressed entirely in pink approaching him, her curls bouncing with every step.
“You seem lost,” she said with a practiced smile, tossing her hair lightly over her shoulder as she stopped in front of him.
Fiyero folded the schedule casually and leaned back against the nearby lamppost.
“Well then,” he said smoothly, “I’m glad you found me.”
The girl laughed softly.
“Do you know where I can find Briscoe Hall?” he asked.
“You’re in luck,” she replied. “I happen to be on my way there now.”
“What a fortunate coincidence.”
They started across the quad together while students continued staring and whispering behind them.
“I’m Galinda, by the way,” she said. “Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands.”
“Fiyero Tigelaar,” he replied. “Winkie Country.”
Galinda smiled as though she already knew exactly who he was.
By the time they reached Briscoe Hall, several more heads had turned in their direction.
“Well,” Galinda said as they stopped outside the classroom door, “here we are.”
“Thank you, Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands.”
She laughed brightly at that.
“You know,” she added, stepping a little closer, “if you’re not doing anything later, I’d be happy to give you a tour of Shiz.”
Fiyero smiled—the same charming smile he had worn so many times before it barely required thought anymore.
“Pick you up at seven?”
“I’m at Crage Hall, room 238,” Galinda said, batting her eyelashes before turning away.
Fiyero watched her disappear back into the flow of students for a moment before letting out an amused breath and slipping into the classroom.
* * *
Though he hadn’t paid much attention to the lectures, Fiyero was finally done with classes for the day.
He ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair as he crossed campus, absentmindedly brushing a loose curl back from his forehead. Being a prince certainly had its advantages and, unlike most students at Shiz, he’d been given a private suite all to himself in the dormitories.
By now, he barely noticed the staring.
The whispers.
The lingering looks.
The way conversations dipped whenever he passed.
Still, he smiled easily in acknowledgment as students glanced his way, slipping into the performance as naturally as breathing.
His steps slowed as distant chanting drifted across the courtyard near the bell tower.
“Let them study, let them write!”
“Animals need equal rights!”
A small group of students stood gathered near the tower steps holding handmade signs and stacks of flyers, their voices echoing across the quad while passing students either stared openly or avoided looking altogether.
Fiyero paused a few feet away, watching for a moment before leaning toward a boy passing beside him.
“Hey,” he said lightly, stopping him. “What’s going on?”
“Just the ASU again,” the boy scoffed, barely slowing his pace. “They’ve been yelling about Animal admissions all week.”
Fiyero frowned slightly and glanced back toward the protest.
For a second, he considered continuing on toward the dormitories.
Then a voice suddenly rose above the chanting, sharp enough to cut clean through the noise around him.
“Every year, the barriers grow higher. Every year fewer Animals are allowed into public spaces, into professions, into schools. And every year, we are expected to stay silent while it happens.”
Without fully realizing it, Fiyero found himself moving closer.
He pushed gently through the edge of the crowd, craning his neck to see who was speaking.
A girl stood at the center of the protest, long black braids falling over the shoulders of her dark jacket.
And green skin.
“The artichoke speaks!” someone shouted from somewhere in the crowd.
Laughter erupted immediately afterward.
Fiyero glanced toward the students laughing before looking back at the girl again, watching for some sign that the comment had affected her.
If it had, she gave no indication.
“Some of you are studying to become doctors,” she continued steadily. “Some of you, lawyers. Teachers. Can you imagine a world where you were denied the freedom to choose? Where education became a privilege instead of a right?”
A mixture of reactions rippled through the crowd—scattered applause, eye rolls, quiet scoffs.
Fiyero barely heard any of it.
There was something strangely captivating about the certainty in her voice. She wasn’t trying to charm the crowd. Wasn’t trying to make them like her.
She simply sounded angry.
And sincere.
The girl paused briefly, scanning the crowd as she spoke.
For the smallest moment, her eyes met his.
But her gaze passed over him almost immediately, continuing through the rest of the students gathered around the protest as though he were no more significant than anyone else standing there.
Something unfamiliar flickered unexpectedly in his chest.
“Your voices matter more than you think,” she continued. “Silence in the face of injustice is not neutrality—it’s participation. We can still choose to make things better. Education should belong to everyone, including our Animal friends and allies.”
The crowd grew noisy again as the girl stepped back and the chanting resumed around her.
Fiyero’s gaze lingered on her anyway.
A second later, one of the protestors—a short boy with curly red hair—hurried toward him holding out a flyer.
“Hi, I’m Boq,” he said quickly. “We’re meeting again tonight at seven. You should come if you’re interested.”
Fiyero accepted the flyer, glancing down at the handwritten meeting details before looking back up.
“Thank you,” he said.
Boq nodded once before rushing back toward the others.
Fiyero folded the flyer neatly and slipped it into his pocket.
Then, before finally turning away, he looked back one last time at the green girl now standing among the other protestors as their chanting echoed once more across the quad.
* * *
Fiyero glanced up from the half-unpacked box sitting at the foot of his bed and checked the clock mounted above his desk.
Nearly six-thirty.
He’d need to head over to Crage Hall soon to meet Galinda.
After returning from classes earlier that afternoon, he’d taken a shower before spending the last couple hours unpacking his things and settling into his new suite. The room was already beginning to look lived in—shirts tossed carelessly across the chair near the window, books stacked unevenly on the desk, his travel bag still lying open near the wardrobe.
He rifled through the closet before settling on a navy blue sweater and pulling it over the white polo shirt he’d changed into earlier.
Crossing toward the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair, brushing a loose curl back into place as familiar blue eyes stared back at him.
He studied his reflection for a moment.
The charming prince.
The effortless smile.
The version of himself everyone else always seemed so eager to believe in.
His gaze dropped briefly before lifting back toward the mirror again.
Here, alone in his room, there was no crowd to entertain. No performance to maintain.
Only his own thoughts.
His mind drifted briefly to his parents and the warning they’d given him before sending him to Shiz—that this would be his last chance at university if he failed to take his studies seriously this time.
Though, admittedly, they’d said something similar about the last few schools too.
It wasn’t that Fiyero couldn’t take his studies seriously.
He just found life easier whenever he avoided thinking too deeply about anything at all.
A quiet breath escaped him before he smiled faintly at himself once more, already preparing to slip back into the familiar role the rest of the world expected from him.
He reached for the campus map sitting on the desk, scanning it for Crage Hall as he slipped a hand absentmindedly into his pocket.
His fingers brushed paper.
Frowning slightly, he pulled out the folded flyer from earlier.
The ASU meeting.
For a moment he simply stared at it.
Then, despite himself, his thoughts drifted back toward the protest outside the bell tower.
Toward the green girl standing at the center of it.
There had been something unsettlingly genuine about the way she spoke. No performance. No attempt to win the crowd over with charm or careful smiles.
Just conviction.
He unfolded the flyer slowly, his curiosity deepening the longer he looked at it.
And before he could think too hard about why, he already knew what he wanted to do.
Fiyero grabbed his shoes quickly and shoved the flyer back into his pocket before heading out toward Crage Hall.
If he hurried, he could still make it there before seven.
A few minutes later, he stopped outside room 238 and knocked lightly against the door.
Galinda opened it almost immediately, still halfway through applying her makeup. Surprise brightened her face the moment she saw him standing there.
“Fiyero, hi,” she smiled. “You’re early. I’m not quite ready yet, if you just give me—”
“I’m terribly sorry to do this last minute,” he interrupted gently, “but would you mind if we took a rain check for tonight? Something came up.”
Her expression faltered slightly.
“Oh,” she said after a moment. “Um… yes, of course. Is everything alright?”
“It is,” Fiyero assured her easily, resting a hand briefly against her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you later.”
Galinda nodded, though confusion still lingered across her face as she slowly closed the door once more.
Fiyero stood there for another second before pulling the flyer back out of his pocket.
Ozma Towers. Seven o’clock.
He glanced toward the darkening campus outside the dormitory windows before starting forward again, his pace quickening slightly as he crossed through the evening crowds toward the meeting.
He still wasn’t entirely sure what was pulling him there.
Only that, somehow, it was the first thing all day that had felt real.