Chapter Text
The new student was incredible. Incredibly entrancing indeed. But incredibly disruptive. Though, after one twinkling smile, the librarian seemed to forgive it all. So Boq supposed he should too.
Boq Woodsman has, always, very unfortunately, been an optimist. And an absolutely dorkified Munchkin. He would know, as his siblings would often remind him so. While he wasn’t brainless, and could clearly see that the new student was, he was aware that Miss Galinda seemed as equally infatuated with the stranger as everyone else. Though, she had much more of a chance with him than the rest of the student body.
They were both perfect.
But Boq was not. However, he was an optimist. And so…
“Miss Galinda!” He called after the swish of blonde hair.
Galinda turned, the aforementioned blonde hair sitting quite perfectly upon her shoulder, and seemed startled at Boq’s proximity. He stepped back.
“Oh, yes… Biq?”
He nervously chuckled. “It’s Boq– anyway, I was hoping you’d–”
“Mr. Woodsman?”
Boq whipped around and his eyes met Madame Morrible’s leathery face. He startled and gave a quick bow of the head. It was severely unexpected that Madame Morrible speak with him, as he was as far from the sorcery department as one could be.
“Ah, no need to be so… stiff, young man, the Headmistress likes to send me on little errands seeing as I really only teach one student,” Morrible’s eyes shifted to Galinda for a fleeting moment, and her lips pursed like she tasted something sour. Galinda seemed to be just as, if not more, nervous than Boq, which really should be impossible.
“Anyhow,” said Morrible sighed, “I’ve come to inform you of a room assignment change. I hear there’s been quite a commotion around a new student.”
“Wait, Madame–”
“Fiyero Tigelaar?” Morrible called out, so close to Boq’s ear that surely if the Madame was even a decibel louder his eardrum would’ve burst, “Fiyero Tigelaar?”
Out of seemingly nowhere, Fiyero Tigelaar jumped down from a table, light on his feet. After a few moments of bouncing on the balls of his feet, he suavely said, “Did I hear someone say my name?”
Morrible looked wholly unimpressified.
“Mr. Tigelaar, you will be rooming with Mr. Woodsman, please acquaint yourself with one another.”
Boq’s heart raced nearly as fast as his thoughts. Sure, he’s been expecting a random roommate at some point, ever since his old one– Nick, another Munchkin boy– dropped out after failing his first exam. But this was much more than anything Boq had ever expected. A prince?! With Boq Woodsman, of Munchkinland?! That was–
“I’m sorry, I was, um, assigned a private suite in my acceptance letter,” Fiyero, put a placating hand out to Morrible and flashing another charming smile.
Of course , Boq thought, in what world would a prince like him room with a Munchkin like me?
“Well, we are indeed fresh out of private suites,” Morrible said casually, “The Headmistress may have… over-accepted this year at Shiz, I presume,” she drawled, looking Fiyero up and down.
Fiyero chuckled, but it was strained. “Listen, ma’am, I don’t know who you are, truly–” Galinda squeaked beside Boq, “–But I really am only concerned about where Feldspur would stay?”
“Who?” asked Morrible.
“... My Horse?”
“Oh, well then, he can stay in the stables with the other horses!” Morrible flicked her wrist.
Fiyero shook his head, “Ma’am–”
“Madame.”
“Er, Madame, Feldspur is a Horse, not a horse.”
“... And that makes him unable to live in the stable?”
Fiyero frowned. “Well, he’d certainly prefer not to.”
Morrible sighed and pinched the crease between her eyebrows. “We can discuss your horse’s–”
“Horse’s .”
“... accommodations later,” Morrible finished, aiming a stony glare at the prince, “For now, why don’t you let Mr. Woodsman show you to your new room?”
Now it was Boq’s turn to squeak.
Fiyero turned sharply to look at him. “Ah, Boq! Sweet! We are already well acquainted,” he said, winking at Boq, his moodification over his Horse seemingly forgotten.
We are? thought Boq.
Madame Morrible then turned to leave, and Galinda sprung after her, chattering on about seminars and magic wands as Morrible ignored her.
And like that, Boq’s chance to ask her for a dance at the Ozdust was gone.
When he turned back, Fiyero was looking at him expectantly.
“Right,” Boq muttered, “Um, come with me?”
“My pleasure!” Fiyero said, matching pace with Boq, who was indeed a head shorter than him, but keeping a spring in his step.
After a few moments of horrendiociously awkward silence, Boq’s lips could no longer contain his racing mind.
“Well, um, please don’t expect much from the room, it was quite quiantified, maybe quite especially for a prince, for me it’s quite large, actually, maybe about four of my siblings could share it. Anyway, my last roommate, Nick, was a Munchkin like me, so he found it quite comfortifying. Or so he told me. He did leave within the first week. Say, where did you say you were from again?”
“The Vinkus province,” Fiyero said easily.
“Oh, right– wait, Winkie or Vinkus?” Boq asked, trying to pronounce it how Fiyero just did.
“Vinkus, though most people don’t make the effort to say it so correctified. Hence, ‘Winkie,’” Fiyero said, with air quotations and a silly sounding accent. He didn’t sound bitter, but he also sounded like he should’ve sounded bitter.
“Oh really?” Boq responded, quite excited to learn something new, “I never knew that. On the maps in Munchkinland it is labeled as Winkie. They should really update that.”
Fiyero gave him a funny look and shook his head, like what Boq had said was amusing.
With the taller man’s silence, Boq pressed on.
“So, uh, what are you studying?”
Fiyero shrugged. The way he did it was like his arms were weightless. “Haven’t decided yet. I’ve been through three universities already and haven’t finished a general course, much less a concentrated one. Though I suppose politics is what I should be inclined to focus on.”
“Oh, okay!” Boq replied, not knowing what else to say to that. He thought for a moment, then asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you end up traveling with a Horse? And not a… horse?”
Fiyero seemed to tense at that like he was just now remembering his exchange with Madame Morrible. “Feldspur and I have been bonded ever since I was a child and he wasn’t much bigger than a Pony,” he said wistfully, “We pretty much learned how to talk together.”
Boq blinked. “Seems very… prince-like,” he commented, stopping in front of a wooden door, “Unlike the room you’re about to enter, sorry in advance.”
Fiyero shrugged at Boq’s nervousness and motioned for him to open the door.
“It’s…” Fiyero started, and Boq braced for a insultifying joke, but the prince continued, “... truly cozifying.”
The prince ignored his side of the room, walking into Boq’s space, taking a vested interest in his posters and lights. Above his bed, a string of low-lit lights in very small tin jars hung and gave the slope of the prince’s deep olive-colored nose a nice glow. The wall was covered in a good amount of posters, just not enough to cover the original color of it, which was a light, muted blue. One large poster depicted the woods near Munchkinland, and the others were collections of book pages and photos Boq had hoarded away. His desk was littered with pencils and a couple of journals, as he tended to fill them up quickly. Two tins he’d converted to plant pots sat at the edge of the desk, close to the side with the window to catch sunlight, one growing a small cream-puff bush and the other containing what he hoped would be a red tulip, though he’d forgotten exactly which color he had planted.
“You’re quite the interior decorator,” the prince said.
Boq felt his ears heat up and quickly prayed that the color wouldn’t rise to his pale cheeks. “Well, the lights were a gift from my sister. She made them herself, the little craftsman.”
“Huh,” Fiyero had the ghost of a smile on his lips. Then he flopped back onto what would be his own bed, utterly bare and parallel to Boq's, and stared up at the ceiling.
“I’ve never shared a room before,” the prince admitted.
Boq snorted. “I’ve never not shared a room. These past few weeks have been exceptionally quiet. Too quiet, for me. I uh… hope this new arrangement is okay for you. I imagine it would be hard.”
Fiyero sat up, smiling, “I think we’ll be just fine! I quite enjoy new things. It’s really only Feldspur I worry about…”
Boq tilted his head, leaning against his bedpost. “Was he going to stay in a private suite with you? I don’t think the rooms are big enough here.”
Fiyero shot him a mischievous look, “I’ve snuck him into places you wouldn’t be able to imagine. I’m thinking of taking him to the Ozdust tonight, if he’s up for it. I hear a local Animal band is featured tonight.”
Boq turned away from the prince to put his book bag down. He wasn’t quite sure if he was going to join what was sure to be most of the student body at the Ozdust. Not only was it breaking curfew and just asking for trouble, but he had a few assignments to make progress on. Plus, he has absolutely nothing to wear for a night out. All he brought to Shiz University were his older brother’s hand-me-downs.
“Sounds fun. We don’t have to make a roommate agreement form until a week passes but just know I don’t really care what time you go in and out. I really can sleep through anything.”
Fiyero frowned. “Are you not coming with us?”
Boq wanted to ask, Who is ‘us’? but stopped himself.
He shrugged. After his failure in asking Galinda for a dance he felt less inclined to, well, dance overall. “I’ve got stuff to study, and–”
Fiyero vigorously shook his head, “That is not a good reason by any means.”
“– And, I have nothing to wear. I’d rather stay here than make a fool out of myself,” he mumbled the last part.
Fiyero grinned, ear to ear. “Well, that’s quite an easy fix! Just borrow something of mine.”
Boq looked at him incredulously, “I couldn’t possibly–”
Fiyero waved him off, “I’ve got the most swankified deep red vest that’d go great with your hair, really, you’d do me a favor taking it off my hands. It really does wash me out. I’ll show it to you as soon as they bring my trunks, no arguing!” he exclaimed as Boq opened his mouth.
A moment of silence passed between the two men.
“Thank you,” Boq said slowly, “Truth is, I am a little nervous about breaking curfew…”
Fiyero flopped back onto the bed.
“You mustn’t be so stiff, Boq,” he chuckled, “But don’t you worry. I’ll get you to loosen up soon enough.”