“You were engaged to Glinda - you had everything anybody could ever want. And yet you gave it all up for a hideous witch!”

Fiyero glared. “Don’t call her that,” he forced through his aching jaw. “You are just too shortsighted to see-”

Shem punched him again, cutting him off, and Fiyero felt his jaw dislocate. “Where did the witch escape to?”

Fiyero glared up at him, not even bothering to try and answer.

“Fine…” Shem seethed. He turned towards his men. “Take him out to that field over there! Put him up on those poles until he tells us where the witch went!”

Fiyero struggled against the rough hands as they forced his arms over the shaft of one of their spears, tying his arms down tightly. He tugged down, trying to snap the spear with the sheer force of his adrenaline, but Oz weaponry was too well made.

They lifted him in the air and he kicked out, grinning in satisfaction as he felt Shem’s nose crack beneath his boot. He would probably pay for that, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

He kicked out again, catching another guard in the ear, before two more of them grabbed his ankles. He bucked wildly, and the men holding his arms let him go while his feet were still held in the air. He bit back a scream as his dislocated jaw slammed into the ground. The pain was so intense he barely noticing how tightly they were tying his ankles together.

He blinked as a pair of boots entered his field of vision, and he glanced up at Shem - blood streaming from his nose. Shem had been very proud of his nose - calling it aquiline - and believed it to be his best asset. Well… Fiyero had definitely taken that from him at the very least.

“You’ll pay for that,” Shem hissed nasally.

Fiyero didn’t even have time to dodge, even if he could have with his feet held in the air above him, before a metal-tipped boot slammed into his cheek.

“How brave,” he ground out around his swelling jaw. “Kicking a man while he’s down.”

Shem kicked him again, and Fiyero felt his left shoulder dislocate from the blow. The other guards threw his feet to the ground as Shem towered over him.

“Any man who allies himself with the wicked witch -” Shem emphasized each word with another kick “- deserves. What’s. Coming. To. Him.”

Fiyero tried to breathe through the pain of each kick, not wanting to give Shem the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but when Shem stomped down on his right knee, crushing it with an agonizing crunch, Fiyero couldn’t help but let out a yell.

“Get him over to those poles, now!” Shem ordered, apparently satisfied for the moment with Fiyero’s yell.

Fiyero felt himself lifted in the air once again, but was in too much pain to try and fight back - especially since he knew, deep down, that it was useless. Unless a miracle happened, he was going to die here.