Chapter Text
Life was a breeze for the Winkie prince. He was set for life, born into luxury. He’d never want for anything, never go hungry or face hardship-that was usual for a prince.
He had the look too-even when he was younger he was a cute child- bright eyes and a smile that could charm anyone. That was useful for when he got into trouble-which was more often than he cared to admit. The issue with Fiyero was that he lacked the drive that came with princehood-the etiquette that usually befits a prince.
Whereas his parents desired him to follow the rules, check all the boxes that was required of him, more often than not Fiyero was found doing the complete opposite. It was never anything malicious, of course, he just preferred to go through life in his own stride, in his own style. If he was told to sit he would stand, run he would walk and cry he would smile. He was just lucky that his charm would keep him out of actual trouble.
Growing up in the Vinkus meant he was outside a lot-either exploring the mountains or more often than not he would be found out in the grasslands. He would often go out alone, finding a quiet place to locate himself where no one was around to disturb him. One might think he was pondering life, thinking of things far beyond a boy his age. The way he would zone out made his parents think he was some sort of philosopher, wise beyond his years, when in reality he was thinking nothing. Head empty, full of nothing but the images of the clouds he stared up at.
His mother would often find him standing out in one of the fields closest to Kiamo Ko. Standing out in the grassland he just stood still, admiring the beauty around him. He’d stand for hours simply existing, the cool breeze mussing up his hair. Where he stood so still people would often mistake him for a scarecrow, to the point that became his nickname. ‘My little scarecrow’ only fit more when his mother found him eating grass, apparently simply curious to its taste. Needless to say he wasn’t a fan.
He was 10 when the hopes of their son started to dwindle. As Fiyero started to fail in his classes his parents realised perhaps their precious boy was troubled in a way that was not admirable for a prince. They had tried numerous ways to straighten him out, tutors, new schools, home schooling, yet nothing came of it. When he was 16 he was sent off to boarding school. This was where his rebellious side was brought out more. Late night parties would lead to secret rendezvous with fellow students, corrupting them into his way of thinking-of which ‘thinking’ was nothing. Apathy was sometimes the solution to life's problems.
The callous way of thinking all stemmed back to when he was younger. Once upon a time he cared deeply, though his mischievous streak led him into situations he had no right to be included in. It was during one of his darting escapes that he stumbled across the horse, struggling to breathe as it lay on the ground, legs having given out from beneath it.
The mare was injured, how Fiyero didn’t know but the blood stained crimson against its cream pelt, the grass beneath her drenched in the red liquid. Her eyes were filled with fear as she heard the gentle footsteps of Fiyero, eyes fixed on the child. “A boy….Help…” She pleaded, attempting once more to stand, mustering up all her strength only to fall back down again.
Fiyero stood frozen for a while, staring at the mare. He was only 6 years old, his knowledge on the world was limited so seeing a creature suffering like this with no idea how to help struck a nerve. She was asking him to do something but he didn’t know how to so he stood idly by, grateful when his nanny, who had turned for one moment only to find he’d vanished, showed up.
“My dear this isn’t a sight for young eyes…” His nanny gasped, covering Fiyero’s gaze as she pulled the boy away.
“She needs help.” Fiyero stated, trying to pull away from the woman. “Why aren’t you helping her?”
The nanny swallowed roughly-there was a harsh truth behind this lesson, one she felt was something all children would one day have to learn. It never made it any easier though. Judging by the state the mare was in, how weak she was, she highly doubted there was much she could do but call a guard to put the poor creature out of its misery.
“Prince Fiyero, there comes a time when you are unable to help someone, no matter what you do. Sometimes you think the best but in reality it is not possible.” She explained, physically pulling Fiyero away despite the distraught calling out from the mare, begging for them not to leave her alone.
“What will happen to her? She’s scared.” Fiyero questioned, frowning as his hand was held just that bit tighter as he was dragged away. He was not escaping this grasp, not now.
“Don’t worry, she won’t be scared soon. We will make sure her suffering is over.” She told Fiyero, the young prince trying to look back towards the clearing where the horse had lay.
“But nanny, she was hurt. Are you going to heal her?”
“I don’t think she can be healed. We will just end her suffering.”
“How?”
The most simple questions could sometimes be the most difficult to answer. Finding the right way to tell a child about death was tricky at best, but you could only dance around the subject for too long.
“Well…when someone is suffering it is sometimes best to end their….” A pause. She didn’t know how to continue. “To end their life. Return them to the earth, let them become dust in the wind. Only then will they no longer suffer.
There was a long pause as the nanny’s words processed in Fiyeros' head. If one looked close enough they could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to make sense of it all before his face fell. Tears soon sprang to his eyes as he pulled aggressively at the hold on his arms. “You’re going to kill her! She’s scared, she shouldn’t be alone!” He exclaimed, managing to squirm out of the nanny’s grip to run back to the clearing. Guards now surrounded the creature, guns raised as Fiyero bolted to the creature’s side, only for the sound of gunfire to echo through the clearing.
Then silence.
It hurt. He barely knew the creature but seeing the mare's life taken so quickly, the life sucked out of her in moments and all that was left was an empty carcass was harrowing. In the following weeks Fiyero had become closed off, not processing the grief all that well. He began to ponder on the idea of mortality, on the purpose of life itself. He wasn’t used to thinking, quite the opposite, so being faced with this dilemma struck like lightning to his heart.
It hurt less not to think-when he lived in blissful ignorance things were easier. So that was how he decided to live the rest of his life- caring for something would only hurt you in the long run. Life didn’t matter, all roads lead to death and he wasn’t going to waste his by thinking. No he intended to throw all troubles to the wind. Nothing could hurt him if he simply didn’t acknowledge it.
And thus he started dancing through life.