Chapter Text
The only sound that could be heard was the squeaking of a wheelchair being pushed along faded, yellow cobblestone. A meek home attendant diligently pushed an elderly Prince Fiyero up a ramp with labored breaths. They entered the faded green Palace, passing under a large tarp announcing a public auction. The young woman’s eyes immediately widened at the sheer size of the building she had only ever seen in school textbooks.
“Lot 663 ladies and gentlemen.” a man’s voice echoed around them, growing louder as they entered the theatre.
“An original poster from the once Oz renowned spectacle, Marvelous Madame Morrible’s Magnificent Maelstrom Mirages. Do I hear 10 greenbacks? 5, then? 5 in the back. 6? 6 to the gentlemen. 7? Yes, 7 to the leopard. 8? 8 greenbacks? Going once, going twice, SOLD to Sir Leopard.”
The home attendant navigated the chair closer to the stage, knowing that the Prince's eyes weren't what they once were, before taking several polite steps back.
“Lot 664,” continued the auctioneer. “A door knob from the very house that collapsed on Nessarose Thropp, killing her instantly.”
The young attendant couldn't help but fall distracted by the wonders around her. It was the first time she had been permitted to leave the castle since being awarded the position of the Prince’s caretaker. She marveled at the grandiosity of the Palace. It made the Prince’s previously extravagant castle pale in comparison.
She took in the lavish attire of the attendees and the many different animals gathered around the auctioneer's post. An elderly goat with spectacles balanced perfectly on his nose caught her attention. He was staring profoundly in the direction of Fiyero. To her surprise, Fiyero was gazing back at him with an equal intensity. After a moment they shared a respectful nod and turned back to the auction.
“Lot 665. A one of a kind handcrafted music box, attached the figure of a flying monkey flapping his wings. Still in working order ladies and gentlemen.”
The man holding the music box wound up the knob and with a slight creak, the wings began flapping. The nurse's breath caught in her throat when an enchanting melody began to echo against the walls of the theatre. Both Fiyero and the goat straightened up at the sound and sight of the box. Fiyero lowered his hand and beckoned her with a flick of his fingers. She immediately understood that this is what he came for.
“May I commence at 15 greenbacks?”
A stomp from the goat resonated through the hall. “Wonderful, 15 for Dr. Dillamond. Do I hear 20?”
She felt a sharp tug on her dress and she raised her hand obediently.
“20 from you sir, thank you very much.”
Another stomp from the goat. “25, thank you.”
Another tug on her dress. She heard soft intake of breath at the heightened price, but she raised her hand anyway. “30 from the gentleman. Do I hear 35?”
She nervously looked between the two that were once again caught in an intense gaze. The goat’s expression fell into a soft smile before he broke the stare and shook his head at the auctioneer.
“Settled at 30 greenbacks then. Thank you once, thank you twice, and SOLD at 30 greenbacks to Prince Fiyero Tiggular. Thank you, Sir”
The man holding the box walked over and gently handed Fiyero the artifact, which he accepted with a gulp.
“A collector's piece indeed. Every detail, exactly as she said. Will you still play when the rest of us are dead?”
The home attendant’s eyes widened at the gentle sound. It was the first time she had ever heard him sing. A stray tear fell from his eye before disappearing into his coat. She released the chair locks and began to turn her Master in the direction of the door.
“Lot 666. An animatronic mask in pieces. Some of you may recall a strange affair of the Phantom of the Emerald Palace.”
The chair suddenly came to a halt surprising the young girl. Upon checking to see what the wheel had caught on, she saw Fiyeros' own hand clutching the wheel. He himself turned the chair back towards the stage.
The auctioneer stepped down from the platform. which was promptly removed by the stagehands to reveal a small mountain covered by a white sheet. Whatever was beneath it was enormous.
“A mystery never fully explained” recounted the auctioneer. “We’re told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very mask which figures in the famous disaster. Our work helped repair it and wired parts of it for the new renovations of the Palace. Perhaps, we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a bit of stage magic. Gentlemen.” He gestured toward the men holding onto the edges of the sheet.
With a whip of their arms, the sheet was removed, revealing a ghastly face whose eyes now glowed a bright yellow. A sudden gust of wind flew through the showroom and began swirling angrily, nearly knocking the young girl off her feet. She clutched the wheelchair for dear life as the giant mask was raised into place. Fiyero's blood had flushed completely from his face at the sight, every mouth in the room falling open in awe at the burst of angry energy that filled the room.
The mask slowly levitated bringing the once dark room to life. Fiyero’s eyes flashed before him as he was transported back in time.
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The theatre buzzed with chaos as all the stagehands scurried about. Half-dressed actors applying their makeup, choreographers barking strict reminders, janitors polishing the floors, light technicians making precise adjustments, musicians from the orchestra warming up their instruments, animals being slapped and prodded into their places with spitting reminders to keep their filthy mouths shut.
A group of ballet dancers scurried swiftly to the stage, a few stopping to apply resin to their pointe shoes before the start of the dress rehearsal. Amongst them, a pair of young, blonde girls giggled together with linked arms as they shared inside jokes and sly judgmental looks at the arrogant nature of the performance. They all gathered in the rear corner of the stage to catch a portion of the rehearsal.
Madame Morrible strutted slowly from the right end of the stage with outstretched arms as the orchestra began its introductory march. Several actors dressed as monkeys ran out in front of her before posing in their practiced formation, leaving space for her dead center of the stage. The jolting melody settled into a graceful aria when her voice rang through the hall.
“ Many years Oz has waited for a gift like mine to appear. But who could predict the Wizard would make me his magic grand vizier. I swore at once I’d write to the Wizard, to tell him of me in advance. With a talent like mine, there is a definish chance. And if I work as I should, I’ll be making good.”
Upon his cue, the crier ran out and raised his arms towards her. “Ladies and Gentlemen of Oz, the one and only Marvelous Madame Morrible, Oz’s ONLY true sorceress!”
Two piercing claps sounded as Madame Morrible brought her hands together and began performing her staple demonstration. Dust particles and the moisture in the air began to flow towards her hands and she waved them in circles. A small cloud began to materialize and grow with each passing second, the surrounding air becoming more difficult to ingest. Within minutes there was a massive cloud the size of a carriage floating above the stage. The lights began to flicker as the cloud darkened and sparks of lighting began to flash inside of it. The orchestral rolling drums sounded, her brow furrowing concentration as she produced a confined, rainless storm right on the stage.
The young dancers could help but marvel at the sight they had seen a dozen times, as it never ceased to impress them. The air began to vibrate as they all waited in anticipation for the roaring clap of thunder to erupt through the room, when a booming voice suddenly cut through the spectacle.
“Sorry to interrupt my fellow Ozians. If I could please have your attention.”
With a huff, Morrible released the storm, the cloud dissipating in half the time it took to appear. Everyone took a welcome gulp of fresh air as they all turned to see The Wizard himself approaching the stage. Everyone except Morrible bowed their heads in respect, a few stage hands going as far as falling to their knees in humility.
“Thank you, thank you everyone. There is something I’d like to address.” he proclaimed. “As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement.”
An uncomfortable silence echoed and most everyone averted their eyes in embarrassment at having been caught gossiping about The Wizard within the walls of his own home. All aside from Morrible who sprouted the smallest smirk.
“I’d first like to confirm that these rumors are true, however as well all know I do not have a biological heir to pass my lovely Oz to.” A small huff was heard from behind the gathering of ballerinas, a few turning around to see Dr. Dillamond with a displeased look on his snout.
With a pointed look, The Wizard continued. “However not to fret, for I’d like to welcome a special guest who will be residing with us for some time. I am deeply honored to introduce a new prospect to inherit the Emerald Throne, which we will be formally announcing to the public at tonight's show.”
The stage erupted in gasps and whispered commotion. “Please give a warm welcome to Prince Fiyero Tiggular of the Vinkus.”
Everyone applauded as the exceptionally handsome Prince entered the stage with a wave and a sparkling smile. One of the ballerinas quickly pushed her way past her peers, her friend not but a step behind her trying to catch a glimpse of the strapping young man.
“He’s perfect. ” The young blonde whispered to herself.
“Oh Galinda, you’d be absolutely perfect together.” replied her dearest friend Pfannee.
“We
so
would.” she said with a smirk that could rival Morrible’s.