First of all, thank you so much to those who have reviewed. I really appreciate it.

I'm honestly happy with every review I get and I'm usually not one to whine about them, but lately I've noticed that I seem to be getting less and less reviews and I'm just wondering why. This one has never had as many stats and/or reviews as some of my others, which I suppose is caused by the fact that it's a sequel and that puts some people off; but if you are reading and just not generally reviewing, would you please drop me a review now to let me know what you think? It would mean the world to me.

25. Plans In Progress

It had been five weeks since he had been separated from Elphaba and Fiyero was not happy. He knew his parents were worried about him. He also knew that if Elphaba could see him right now, she'd scold him for being dramatic and tell him bluntly to get himself together. She wasn't here to see him, however, and so he kept on moping.

Every few days, he received one or more letters from the Emerald City, Gillikin, or Munchkinland – or from more than one of those places. Boq and Galinda, who were still staying with Galinda's parents, kept him updated on anything they heard about Elphaba – rumours, newspaper articles, even articles in the tabloids – and on their progress in finding her; but since they had no idea how to actually go about that, there was not a lot of progress to be reported. Nessa, too, wrote to both him and Galinda, telling them that her father still refused to talk about his green-skinned daughter, but that she was keeping her eyes and ears open for news about her sister.

The most useful letters came from Gazilon, who was still working in the City with Swan and, by now, also with Cohvu, whom he had encountered again as the blond man had been accepted into the Gale Force. Cohvu had told Gazilon about his mission for the resistance, to infiltrate the Gale Force; and Gazilon had promised that he would do the best he could to help this time, still trying to make up for his earlier mistake.

When it came to tangible evidence, however, there was very little they had found. Sightings of a figure on a broomstick were reported by people all over Oz occasionally and Gazilon and Cohvu informed Fiyero that the Gale Force sent out men each time to track the reports, but they never found her. That was a relief, on the one hand, because at least she wasn't captured by the Gale Force; but on the other hand, it didn't bring them any closer to finding her, either, and Fiyero was slowly growing desperate.

"Other people who can do magic," he muttered to himself, re-reading Gazilon's most recent letter. "What makes him think I know other people who can do magic? I didn't even know magic actually existed until I first met Elphaba!"

"What was that, son?" King Jorge, who was working at his desk, asked; and Fiyero made a face.

"Gazilon asks if I know anyone who can do magic. Besides Elphaba, obviously. Someone who could find a way to magically prove that Fae is the Wizard's daughter." He'd told his parents everything and kept them updated on the situation even now, figuring that perhaps they could help him if they knew the whole story. At the very least, they'd understand what he was doing. He had no-one but them to talk to here at Adurin Iir, since he was still technically a fugitive and so he made sure to stay out of sight of any staff members. His parents had helped him with that by making up some excuse for the staff to not come in the west wing of the second floor, where he was staying.

Jorge rubbed his forehead, his gaze still trained on the paperwork he was dealing with. "Someone who can do magic... do you mean like the Sorceress of the South?"

When no reply came, he glanced up, only to find Fiyero staring at him. "Fiyero?"

"The Sorceress of the South," the prince echoed incredulously. "Are you serious?"

Jorge was confused. "Yes. She can do magic – you know that. Or you should, since we certainly tried to educate you about the subject of other leaders in Oz," he added, raising his eyebrows.

Fiyero decided to let that slide. "She lives in Quadling Country, right? Can you contact her? Ask her if she would be capable of doing such a thing – of using magic to prove that a blood bond exists between two people, or to hear a conversation that has taken place a while ago?"

"Sure." The king made a note on a piece of paper. "I'll send her a letter. We're on good terms with the Quadlings – as far as I'm aware, they're on good terms with the resistance, too, so I bet they'll be willing to help us."

"Wait. So Quadling Country, the resistance, and the Vinkus are basically all on the same page?" Fiyero asked. "Do you think that together, we'd have enough power to support Elphaba as the new ruler of Oz? If the Sorceress of the South can bring out the truth about what happened with Elphaba, the Wizard, and Morrible that day, then it's a proven fact that she is the princess of Oz. I bet we'd be able to get most of the Ozian people on our side. Then there's us, the leaders of the Vinkus, and the leader of the Quadlings, supporting her. The resistance is a large group of supporters and if we can get some important families from the other provinces on our side – say, for example, the Uplands and the Damarans, since Galinda and Gazilon's parents would probably be willing to cooperate... perhaps even Frexspar, in Munchkinland – Nessa might be able to convince him to help. We'd stand strong. We could back Elphaba up in her claim and all of Oz would be changed if she were to become the queen."

Jorge was eyeing his son with a strange expression on his face and Fiyero shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

His father shook his head. "It's just... I've never seen you like this, Fiyero," he confessed, "or heard you talk like this. So mature, laying out a plan that's thought through rather well... I guess I've just never heard you sound like a king before." He smiled. "I'm proud of you."

Fiyero returned the smile. "Thanks, Dad, but I don't think I can take the credit for that. I told you before how much Elphaba has changed me. I'm doing this for her, you know."

"I know. Or, well, I thought so." Jorge watched him closely and a bit wistfully. "You know… we never really understood you, your mother and I," he confessed. "Maybe we've pushed you a little too hard at times, but we really only ever wanted what was best for you. I can't help but feel that it was partly our fault that you started acting… the way you did."

"I know you did the best you could," said Fiyero, but his father shook his head.

"We did," he said. "But maybe that was not good enough. I'm glad you found someone who does understand you, though. A part of me wishes that could have been your mother or me, but in the end it doesn't matter who it is, as long as he or she makes you happy; and I can tell Elphaba does that for you."

On an impulse, Fiyero moved over to where his father was sitting and hugged him. "I love you, Dad. Both of you. Maybe you didn't really understand me, but you've always been great parents."

"Thank you, son. We love you, too." Jorge pulled away and picked up his pen. "I will write to the Sorceress of the South right now. I'll do the best I can to get you your girl back and to clear her name. I promise."

Fiyero watched him for a while. "Thank you."

"No problem." The king waved him away. "Now shoo. I believe you have some letters of your own to write."

"The Sorceress of the South," Gazilon muttered, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

Satisfied that their plan was still progressing, he folded Fiyero's letter and put it in a drawer. King Jorge had written to the Quadling sorceress; with a bit of luck, she would be able to help prove Elphaba's position as princess of Oz. Before that, however, the word needed to be spread – and as he had told Swan before, he had the perfect idea to do that.

He threw on a coat and left his home, striding through the streets of the Emerald City until he reached the office of The Ozian, one of the most widely read newspapers in all of Oz. He entered the building, a small bell tinkling above his head, and a girl came hurrying from the back.

"Good afternoon!" she greeted him cheerfully. "How can I help you?"

"Hello," he said, giving her his most charming smile. "I heard that a friend of mine is doing her internship here on Saturdays and I thought I'd stop by and say hi." He mentioned her name and the girl nodded enthusiastically.

"She's in the back! I'll go and get her for you," she promised and darted off again. Not too long thereafter, the person he had been intending to see came up to him, a smile lighting up her face.

"Gazilon? What are you doing here?"

"Seeing you," he said, hugging her. "You look good, Lanae."

She giggled. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself. Gale Force has been good for you, huh?"

He tried to hide his grimace at that, but he decided not to say anything. That wasn't why he was here and he wanted to keep her knowledge about anything Elphaba- or resistance-related as limited as possible. He'd have to tell her enough already as it was. "I need your help."

She took him to a coffee corner in the back, where they both sat down and she looked at him expectantly.

He took a breath. "You're involved in the creation of The Ozian, right?"

She gave him a look. "Yes, Gazilon. That's why I'm here at the office of The Ozian, after all." She chuckled, fondly shaking her head at him. "What is it you want?"

He'd known about her internship here – he still kept in touch with some old friends who had just started their last year at Shiz and he had heard that Lanae, whilst also still managing and singing in Gravity, had been offered an internship at The Ozian. She now worked here every Saturday, which would look good on her diploma once she'd graduate from Shiz. That was why she was so perfect for this job.

He explained to her the brief version of everything going on with Elphaba and Fiyero, including the fact that Elphaba was the Wizard's daughter and the way he and some other people – whom he did not call by name – wanted to help bring this information out into the open. "And that is where you come in," he said, watching her face carefully for a reaction. "We want to write an article about this and we want it to be printed in The Ozian."

She stayed quiet for a while, tapping the table with her long fingernails. "Oz, Gazilon..."

"It's not dangerous for you," he assured her. "No-one will connect you to it at all, if everything goes well. But you work here – it wouldn't be strange for you to hang around here – and if you could secretly make sure the article appears in the next edition of the paper..." He bit his lip. "You do believe me, don't you?"

She was silent again, then nodded slowly. "I believe you," she said. "I mean, I knew Elphaba, too, at Shiz – and Fiyero, of course." He gave her a sympathetic look and she smiled wryly at him before continuing. "I didn't really believe everything that was being said about her attacking the Wizard. But this... I want to help, but if I get caught, all my plans for the future will go up in smoke, Gazilon. I'll never get another job again."

"And that would be terrible, wouldn't it?" he asked her sarcastically, an unusually sharp undertone in his voice. "Although at least you wouldn't be a fugitive, trying to stay alive and help Animals and yet watching them getting slaughtered by the Gale Force. Because that would be really horrible."

She pointed a finger at him menacingly. "Don't be that way with me," she said hotly. "I can't imagine what Elphaba and Fiyero must be going through and I'm sure it's horrible, but this is my life and that's important, too, Gazilon. Not everyone keeps himself busy with matters of life or death."

"You could, though," he pointed out harshly. "You could make a difference – help your former friends, even help make things better in Oz, indirectly. Would you really turn away from that?"

She stared at the wall, lost in thought. "I need to think about this," she said. "Come back tonight before dinnertime – I'll give you my answer then. If it's a yes, make sure your article is ready next Saturday, so I can sneak it in on my next work day. It would be printed in the Sunday edition."

He nodded, satisfied. "Thank you, Lanae. I'll meet you at the door when you're done working."

There was a silhouette in the dark and she caught a glimpse of messy, sandy hair and bright blue eyes. A sob escaped her lips and she brought her hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes. "Fi-Fiyero?"

It was him. He approached her and she wanted to run to him, but something was stopping her. Frowning, she realised that he did not look happy to see her. Instead, he looked... murderous and not quite like himself.

It wasn't until he came into the pool of moonlight she was standing in that she realised he was burnt all over.

"You," he growled, his blue eyes almost phosphorescent and filled with madness, "you killed me. It's your fault I'm dead!"

"No!" She tried to move, but she couldn't. She could only stand there and cry as he approached her, closing his fingers around her throat.

"How does it feel, Fae," he whispered, bringing his face close to hers, "to be murdered by the one you love?" Before she could even reply, there was suddenly a sharp pain in her abdomen and she gasped. The knife seemed to have come from nowhere and she screamed as he yanked it out and stabbed her again, hissing, "Say good-bye to our baby, sweetheart. Don't worry, though – we'll all be together in death!" He laughed and she screamed again.

And then she was suddenly somewhere else, tangled up in some blankets, with three pairs of eyes staring at her. She gasped and Brownie asked tentatively, "Elphaba?"

Noah softly touched her arm. "Miss Elphaba? Are you all right?"

"Fine," she breathed. "I'm fine." She shuddered, cold sweat covering her skin, and she pulled the blankets tighter around her. She almost subconsciously touched her abdomen, relief washing over her when she realised the baby bump was still there. "It was just a nightmare."

Bob was quick to snuggle up against her, burrowing into her arms. "It's okay, Miss Elphaba," he said. Noah followed him, licking Elphaba's cheek and then cuddling up against the green girl as well, and Brownie was not far behind. She could only smile at them as she cradled the three young Animals to her chest, watching as they drifted off to sleep again.

She didn't sleep anymore after the nightmare, however; and after a while, she gently pulled away, grabbed her broom, and left the cottage. She soared up high into the air, where the wind whipped her hair around her face and blew the thoughts from her mind for a while. Since she figured she was up here now anyway, she was also careful to keep an eye out for Animals in need of help or for Gale Force soldiers.

And she was glad she did; because there, only a few kilometres away from the hide-out she was staying in, was a group of Gale Force.

She swore and steered her broom down, landing on the road she knew they were headed down, waiting. They appeared not long thereafter and she raised her hands, which were crackling with magic.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly, but her eyes were shooting fire. "It's a little early for a stroll, isn't it?"

A ripple of "It's the wicked witch!" went through the men before her and she smirked. "Congratulations. Your eyesight is still good." Her smirk dropped. "Tell me – why are you here?"

"We were here because there is supposed to be a hide-out for Animals that we had to eliminate," one of them said – apparently their leader, because he stepped up to the front and eyed her up and down with a grin. "It seems like we can also catch a witch, however. That'll certainly earn us a reward."

She threw her head back and cackled. "You really think I'll let you catch me and kill those Animals?" She glared at them. "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged." The leader glanced over his shoulder and barked, "Shoot her!"

She raised one hand, muttering under her breath. The soldiers all tried to shoot, but their rifles didn't work anymore.

"Just because I couldn't find a way to cure the Wizard, doesn't mean I didn't learn anything from those spell books," she told them upon seeing their confused looks.

One of them frowned. "Why would you want to cure the Wizard? You tried to kill him!"

"It's too late now, anyway," the leader interjected angrily. "In case you haven't heard, witch – His Ozness is dead."

"The Wizard is dead, Lanae." Gazilon looked at her pleadingly. "Please. This changes everything. He can't testify anymore now and Oz will be plunged into chaos if nothing happens soon. Please say you'll help us."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'll help you."

Gazilon exhaled. "Thank you."

"Bring me that article early next Saturday," she instructed him. "I'll have it printed in the Sunday edition, I promise."

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