Authors' Note: This is a sequel to the show Wicked co-authored by Daydreamer731 and Fiyero. It is intended to start out vague and get more detailed later, so don't worry if you're confused.
Spoiler Warning: If you haven't seen Wicked and don't want the ending revealed…don't read this fic. That said…don't blame us if you ruin the surprise for yourself.
Disclaimer: We don't own Wicked or The Wizard of Oz or any of the characters for that matter. They are the property of L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire and Stephen Schwartz.
Chapter 1
The monkeys simply would not leave Kiamo Ko. No one quite knew why they had taken up residence there, but once they had appeared, they had refused to leave. He had tried everything he could think of to drive them away as their noise was aggravating, especially by night, but the more he wracked his brain for a solution, the more it seemed like the monkeys were silently laughing at him from their perches on the rafters of the ancient castle.
"You're free now!" he yelled, getting up from his seat in the great hall and throwing a rock at the nearest winged beast on his way to check on the troops' progress. They had to hurry if they were to leave by morning.
He stepped outside into the moonlight, his spirits lifting a little at the sight of all the Winkies that had arrived over the past few days, sleeping in tents and barracks, or even just on scraps of spare blankets around Kiamo Ko. Good, very good. They were almost ready.
"Sir - " He turned to see one of the Winkie leaders, nervously playing with his hat. He narrowed his eyes at the man. "What have I told you and the others to call me?" he said, a cold metallic sound to his voice.
"I'm sorry, Highness," said the man, bowing low. "We are nearly ready for the voyage. Most of the Winkies are excited about this, ready to finally take action... but, Highness, there are others that are being slightly... shall we say... rebellious?"
He frowned, and the man seemed to grow even smaller.
"Rebellious…how?"
"They-uh—they don't completely trust you, Highness. There's some…some talk of mutiny."
He took a deep, shaking breath, glaring at the already trembling soldier.
"Take me to them."
The leader fell to his knees. "Oh Highness, I do not wish to go against your orders! The rebellious ones have threatened a slow, agonizing death if I take you to them!"
He reached down and grabbed the leader by the throat, lifting him up into the air. The man choked and tried to scream in terror. "And if you don't take me to them," he said, "your death will be slower and more agonizing than those that have threatened you could even begin to imagine." He opened his hand and allowed the man to drop to the ground. The weight of the Winkie leader sent a cloud of dust into the air, nearly invisible in the twilight.
The leader scrambled to his feet, ghostly pale in the whitish light. The long shadows cast dark circles under his eyes, turning the man into a hideous spectre. He motioned for his king to follow, then ran off toward one of the encampments, all but vanishing into the dark. The king quickened his step, wincing as his joints creaked mercilessly. He had no stamina anymore.
A moment later they arrived at a circle of Winkies who were huddled around a small campfire, murmuring things to one another. Their voices weren't meant to be heard by others. The king took a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak. An owl hooted somewhere in a tree nearby.
"What's this I hear," said the king, "of a rebellion?" The whispers halted and those around the fire looked up with wide-eyes. He saw one of the men send an icy glare at the leader, who ducked behind his king. The glaring man stood. "Sir - "
"Highness," the king corrected.
"Sir," the man repeated, firm on his ground. "We feel it is... not right. To simply storm through the City. If we gradually enter over the course of a month or two, we can take them by surprise."
"That gives the sorceress more time to see what's coming."
"It will all be recorded in the Book of Records anyway," said the Winkie leader meekly, deciding it was better to support his king on this matter.
The King held his axe high above his head.
"Swear your loyalty to me," he demanded in a booming voice. "Then at least you will not die traitors."
The men cowered closer to the fire, and one of them grabbed a flaming stick, holding it in front of him like a smoldering spear.
The King laughed.
"You know that will not harm me."
The axe swung and the man ducked. These actions were repeated a few times before, with a mighty shout, the king threw the axe straight at the man. He yelled and leapt to the side. The head of the axe plunged deep into the earth, but the man failed to escape the danger, for the fire upon the branch he held reached the curly mass of hair upon his head. He screamed in pain as the flames licked at his scalp and one of the women traitors whimpered and blocked her eyes.
The king laughed as the man screamed in pain and looked at the others. "Anyone else care to refuse to swear their loyalty?"
The group of rebels scattered into the darkness, leaving the now blackened man writhing in pain on the ground. The King turned on the man who was still hiding behind him.
"Bring them back to me."
The man shuddered and looked longingly over his shoulder as though he too were about to flee. Then he bowed deeply and squared his shoulders before setting off after the group. There was a small gust of wind, and the King looked up to see one of the monkeys sitting in a tree a few feet away, its eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. He felt like it was watching him.
The king walked through the fire, smothering it. The red flames licked out from beneath his boots, but he stomped them out, grinning. "I stomp the flames out as I will stomp Oz out," he said. He bent over and, with slight difficulty and many creaks from his body, pulled the axe from the ground. The monkey took flight and the king watched as it vanished into the darkened sky. "Good," he said with a smirk. "That's one less of those winged monsters around here."
The man returned after a few more moments of silence and threw himself to the ground. "Oh Highness, they've gone!" he said. "I'm so sorry, they vanished into the campgrounds. Please don't kill me, Highness, I did reveal their identities to you!"
The king looked at the man for a moment. The Winkie's pathetic cries for mercy were sickening. He swung the axe menacingly close to the man's head, then turned his back on him, beckoning offhandedly.
"Come."
"Wh-where?" stammered the man.
"Follow me."
The king turned and went back into Kiamo Ko, the man scuttling along at his heels. It reminded him of that little dog. That hideous yappy little thing. It had been all he could do not to cleave it in two with his axe.
They reached the inside of Kiamo Ko and the king stopped and pointed to the monkeys still perched on the rafters.
"Remove them," he said to the man, knowing it was impossible. "Then I will spare your life."
"Y-yes, Highness," said the Winkie. He turned and pointed to one of the monkeys. "Hey you! Get out!" The monkeys chattered and the king realized how much it sounded like they were laughing at the Winkie.
"I will leave you to your task," said the king. He started down the hall toward his room, a place comfortable for a man of his state and stature. He sat upon a silver chair and rolled his eyes as one of the monkeys flew in and sat upon the windowsill. "Honestly, can't you - you things leave me alone?"
He smirked as he realized what the monkey held in his hands - a shred of pink material. He stood and uncurled the small fingers and grasped the object in his hands.
The monkey let go of the fabric and cocked its head, looking at him quizzically. The king couldn't help thinking that the monkey knew something he didn't. He picked at the pink fabric, tearing it to shreds between his clumsy fingers. He looked out the large window at the campfires below, glowing like stars on the dark ground below.
"At last I shall have my revenge on Glonda," the king said. "Oh no - I'm sorry, Miss Glinda! Did I pronounce your name wrong?" A menacing laugh emerged from Boq's mouth and rang through the night air.
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