Chapter Text
Queen Ismene of the Vinkus rarely seemed to take pleasure in much these days. The once lively, witty, and warm monarch had all but disappeared, replaced with someone somber and pensive. She was still incredibly kind, but there was a certain hollowness to her presence; though no one ever blamed her. After all, how does one cope with the merciless torture and execution of their only child?
One of the few things that did seem to bring her peace each day was her morning strolls around the grounds of the castle. Just after sunrise, she could be found with a warm cup of coffee between her hands, wandering the gardens. Her favorite spot was along the western wall, where there was a small but thriving patch of poppies; she would spend a few moments there each day to admire the flowers before heading back inside.
This morning, as she did every other, Ismene made her rounds; greeting each staff member with a small smile or a nod of her head, she walked through the door to head outside. Slowly, she made her way around the gardens, and to the small section of poppies along the wall of the castle. Glancing around to confirm she was alone, she ran her fingers across the stones. Her hands took the same path they did countless times over the last few months, and before long they found a small gap. Reaching inside while wishing for the best, she was pleasantly shocked to find exactly what she hoped for. What she asked for in her prayers to Lurline, said each day upon waking.
In her hands was a thick, cream colored envelope, sealed with green wax, and stamped with the shape of a single stalk of wheat.
It was rare that they received any correspondence from the children; in fact, it had only been four times in nearly as many months. The drop-off point was secure, and though no one beside them knew the two were alive, the castle’s inhabitants remained loyal to their Prince and his beloved. Regardless, Elphaba and Fiyero never felt entirely confident that the Birds carrying their letters wouldn’t eventually be intercepted. Ismene didn’t fault them for their caution. Not much news from their country made it out to the sea town where they lived in Ev; and her and Armond intentionally kept quiet on the way the narrative was shifting in Oz.
Around one month after Fiyero informed them that they were alive and escaping the Vinkus, they received their first two letters; delivered by a Bird who Elphaba once helped save from the Gale Force. The first was to inform them that the couple had arrived safely in Ev, where the mix of Animals and humans who also resisted the Wizard’s rule welcomed them with open arms. The second they received just a few days later, after the pair had settled in a house of their own; a very sweet cottage close to the sea, right on the outskirts of their small town.
Fiyero had written a paragraph bragging about Elphaba’s quickly acquired new position as head teacher at the local school house, as well as her work helping to open the first library in town. He joked that some things never changed; Elphaba would always be happiest in a classroom or amongst stacks of books, his greatest foe in the ongoing quest for her attention.
Elphaba pointed out that he was grumbling an awful lot about her reading so much, when he knew full well it was her best chance of finding a way to make him human again. That led to another letter, confirming that Fiyero was the famed Scarecrow that had been traveling with the girl who “melted” Elphaba. Something Fiyero conveniently forgot to mention in his farewell to his parents.
That letter took a few days longer to arrive than they had hoped; they were very impatient to find out the truth of what happened to their son that day in Munchkinland. Though upon receiving the letter from Elphaba and Fiyero with the full story, they almost wished they didn’t find out. It was a devastating read, and judging by the splotch marks throughout the page, it was no easier for Elphaba to write.
After that discovery, there had only been one more letter; though it was the one they cherished most of all.
When they received the previous envelope, there was not only a letter, but four blank small sheets of photo paper tied together with a ribbon. The two looked at each other confused, but once Ismene lifted the top one to inspect it, they discovered their hidden secret. The photos had been enchanted to make sure they stayed blank to everyone besides their intended recipient.
The first photo was of their cottage, just as beautiful and cozy as they described. They could easily imagine the well-deserved peace and joy that Fiyero and Elphaba would be able to find in that home; especially after the hardship of the past few years. The second photo was, to their shock, a picture of Fiyero in his Scarecrow form.
This was actually the first time they had ever seen the transformation their son went through. When the papers boasting of Dorothy and her companions’ success in taking down the Wicked Witch made their way to the Vinkus, they had not yet discovered that Fiyero had survived his torture and supposed execution. In their grief and mourning, along with the fresh heartbreak over the news of Elphaba’s death, the last thing they wanted to hear about was this little girl from another world and her odd magical friends.
Not to mention the fact that said witch hunters killed Elphaba in one of their own royal residences. Kiamo Ko, Foyer’s inheritance from his grandfather, became Elphaba’s residence after Fiyero fled his forced wedding and the Emerald City. Needless to say, they were a little too preoccupied to pay any mind to the sentient Scarecrow that graced the front page of the papers.
They took several moments to take in all of their son's features in this new form: the burlap that had replaced his skin, his nose, a slightly darker color than the rest of his face, and his somehow impressively coiffed “hair” which was clearly a mix of straw and bits of wheat. He still looked shockingly like himself, making the sight even more surreal.
Armond tilted his head curiously.
Ismene’s brow furrowed at her husband’s expression, which looked more amused than shocked or upset. “What?”
He laughed. “I wonder if his hair looks like that all the time, or if he made it a point to fix it up and show it off for the photo.”
Ismene looked down at the picture briefly before turning back to him incredulously. “That's what you’re thinking about?” The image of their son, completely stripped of his humanity after what they knew to be a nightmarish ordeal, was downright painful for her to see. She failed to see how Armond could find any humor in this.
Armond shrugged. To be honest, he was actually quite perturbed over the image of his son as a scarecrow. Elphaba and Fiyero had been brutally honest about what happened to Fiyero that fateful day, per their request. The King and Queen weren’t told much in the letter sent to them by the Wizard, and they knew the newspapers would sensationalize his death just to get people to buy.
For the first few weeks after they received the letter detailing his punishment by the Gale Force, Armond had wondered whether or not their request for full transparency was the right choice. Ismene couldn’t sleep for more than an hour without waking up screaming; visions of her baby boy being brutalized by the Wizard’s soldiers unfolded every time she closed her eyes.
Armond hadn’t wanted his wife to worry about him when she was so tormented by the letter herself, but he was not spared from nightmares of the suffering Fiyero endured. They haunted his nights and slipped into his days, when nothing demanded his immediate attention and his thoughts would wander. Seeing a photo of his son in the body created by Elphaba to save him brought images to the forefront of his mind he hoped were finally behind him. His child, nailed to a scarecrow's post in a cornfield in Munchkinland. Left to die. Left to rot. His lifeless, tortured body acting a warning to those who would oppose the Wizard.
Humor was his mind’s way of not allowing him to lose himself in those grisly thoughts; the despicable, horrific end the Gale Force hoped Fiyero would meet.
Although he didn’t voice any of this out loud, his expression must have spoken volumes; his wife’s expression had shifted from disbelief to a sorrowful understanding.
She took a deep breath before looking back down at the photo in her hand. “Wait a minute -”
The photo was labeled “Final Afternoon of Straw” in Elphaba’s neat cursive, which they hadn’t noticed until now. Confused, they moved to the next photo in the stack. As Ismene placed her fingers on it the next image appeared, she gasped, before a sob ripped out from deep within her chest. There he was, her son returned to his human body; the first time they had seen his face since hearing of his execution. His body bore the marks of what was clearly an agonizing experience, most notably a long, ragged scar that ran down the right side of his face, from just below the spot where his nose met his eye right down to his jaw, as well as a large swath of skin on his left arm that was clearly severely burned. She could only imagine how many more scars existed that they couldn’t see; and those were just the physical ones. Ismene’s trembling hand covered her mouth as she fought to control her breathing. How much pain was her child forced to suffer for protecting the woman he loves?
Armond held her hand in his for a moment. As he looked down at the photo himself, yes, he did see the pain and suffering that his son must have gone through. But what surprised him was that the overwhelming feeling wasn’t sadness or anger, but pride. Though Fiyero may have had some difficult years; it was clear he struggled with the weight of the crown he had no choice but to inherit. However, his father always knew that he was, at his core, every bit the king he was destined to be. He knew that once his son eventually shed the persona he created to protect himself and his heart, that the people would see the same things that he and Ismene saw. Fiyero’s kindness, bravery, and strong sense of justice. His love for his people and those closest to him.
Once they met Elphaba, they knew that day was fast approaching, and that the people of the Vinkus would see her for what she truly was. Not only a future queen, but the brilliant, compassionate, caring woman who brought out the best in their son.
Unfortunately, that day never arrived. The Wizard, long mistrusted by the royal family and the Vinkus as a whole, upended all of their lives in the blink of an eye. Elphaba was made a fugitive for standing up for what was right, and Fiyero left for the Emerald City, working his way up to Captain of the Guard. He was relentless in his pursuit to not only find the woman he loved, but protect her from the horrific fate that would buff her if captured by the wrong people. Armond and his wife were left at home without their son, unsure of their kingdom’s future, but doing all they could to help make the province a safe place for them both.
He back down at the photo and his wife’s hand. Pride. He was brimming with it. Those scars, though painful to see, were irrefutable proof of his son's devotion and bravery. Fiyero had not chosen the path of least resistance, but had thrown himself into the belly of the beast to save the green girl his heart beat for. His willingness to sacrifice for what is right, to give up his own life for the woman he loved, brought a warmth to his chest like nothing else he could remember.
Until his wife placed the photo to the side and picked up the next.
As the image appeared, tears that neither realized they were holding back suddenly broke through, spilling down both their faces.
Fiyero and Elphaba, together. At their wedding.
The two of them exuded happiness. Fiyero was dressed simply in a well-fitted cream button up with navy pants, and Elphaba wore a cream A-line dress with a square neckline and sheer bishop sleeves. The entire dress was covered in a stunning pattern of pale gold stars. Both were looking at each other, positively beaming.
Armond gently pointed to the photo and whispered. “Ismene, look.”
As she brought the picture closer to inspect, she saw what her husband saw and was stunned. There, on both of their temples, was a small constellation of blue diamonds. The Arjiki royal diamonds. It had been generations since anyone in the royal family received the ceremonial tattoos. They had to be granted by one of the elder sorceresses of the Arjiki tribe upon completion of the survival trials; the trials that ushered them into manhood. When the men of the family would marry, their wives were given matching markings to signify their bond, that they were one.
Sorcery had all but disappeared from the Vinkus, just over a hundred years ago; the practice was thought to be completely lost. They both marveled at the sight, wondering who they must have crossed paths with in Ev to have been marked with the diamonds.
Armond was suddenly overcome. Survival trials. You could say that again. In his opinion, there was absolutely no one more deserving of the royal diamonds than his son and his wife. His son and his wife.
Ismene collapsed into Armond’s shoulder and sobbed. Heavy, cathartic sobs that shook her entire frame as Armond clutched her to him like a lifeline. Their baby. Alive. Human. Married. There was a slight pang at the thought that they couldn't be there themselves, but it was short-lived. The sheer, indescribable joy that they felt was all-consuming.
When they received word that Fiyero was killed, they were inconsolable. The thought that he had died before he ever got the chance to truly live his life; his time cut tragically short when he had finally allowed himself to live authentically, finally found love? It was too much to bear.
To find themselves looking at this photo of him, celebrating what they knew he saw as the true beginning of his life, was more than they could ever dream of.
The Queen practically sprinted back through the castle doors, envelope clutched in her hand, and went straight to her husband’s study. Ismene was relieved to see that he was alone and sitting in one of the armchairs, reading the book he was hoping to finish this week. She didn’t want to read the letter without her husband, but didn’t have the patience to wait more than a few more moments to open it.
“Darling,” He looked up from his book at the sound of her voice, giving his wife a warm smile as she closed the door behind her. “We received a message this morning; I thought we’d read it together.” She waved the envelope in the air, with the seal facing Armond.
His eyes widened and he immediately shot up from his chair, moving over to the couch to join his wife.
They opened the seal and were immensely pleased to see one blank photo included with the letter. The page inside was labeled with large capitalized letters, OPEN ME FIRST, so they left the photo and placed the envelope on the table. They opened the letter and were very surprised to see the entire thing was in Fiyero’s handwriting. Elphaba was typically the one doing the writing, and Fiyero would only contribute a few lines of his own.
Dearest Family,
I can already hear your shock over this letter being written by yours truly, but with Fae finding herself temporarily indisposed, the responsibility falls to me. I also know you’ll be disappointed over how brief this letter is when it’s been so long since our last; however I’d never claim I can match Fae’s notorious five page essays. I know this is all very vague, but I’m certain you’ll understand when you see the enclosed photo.
All I can say is we are beyond thrilled, and wish beyond anything we could’ve shared this in person. We’re thinking it’ll be about six months from now. Yes, I know it’s only been a month since the wedding, but I hope you’ll forgive us for not worrying about propriety when we reunited. After all, we did expect to be dead by the following morning. Ironic when you think how it all played out!
We love and miss you both more than we could ever say, especially now. Fae already has an entire checklist of moments we must capture and a memory book for us to fill and send to you. She wants you both to feel as involved as possible under the circumstances. Hopefully in time things will be different, and we can all be together. Until then know that you’re thought of constantly.
All our love,
Y&F
Armond and Ismene turned to each other silently before Armond shakily reached for the photo they had placed on the table. As it touched his hand, the image slowly appeared.
There, with the biggest smiles they had ever seen on either of their faces, even bigger than on their wedding day, were Fiyero and Elphaba. Fiyero was holding Elphaba close to his side with one hand, his other hand resting on top of her rounded stomach.
Ismene shot up from her seat.
“We need to go to the Emerald City. Today.”
Armond nodded solemnly. “Yes, I think we do.”
Ismene collected the letter and photo as Armond rose from the couch. They exited his study, and quickly began making their way to their suite.
“It’s time for Glinda and the Wizard to prove themselves; prove that they genuinely regret their actions and want to do right by Fiyero and Elphaba.” The Queen took a deep breath before continuing. “I agree they needed to be kept in the dark until now, but the situation has changed. I refuse to wait around while they take their precious time in clearing their names.”
Armond walked over to the nearest guard, asking him to inform the head of staff that they’d be leaving immediately. He returned to his wife’s side and held her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. His normally light and cheerful eyes were full of heavy emotions; his features never more serious.
“Our grandchild will not be born in exile, Ismene. We are going to bring them home.”