AN:

Oh, you dear, lovely people!

Thank you all for so much love - in general of course, but also particularly last week! You were all very generous with your kind feedback and I couldn't be happier!

Feeling so grateful, I really, really wish I could give you the chapter you are all waiting for - but unfortunately, we're still not quite there yet. The good news is: I just started writing it! So hang in there everyone, it's coming... eventually...

*O*O*O*O*

ElphabaFaeFabala:

Thank you so much for your lovely review! I hope the remaining chapters of this story will have you just as excited as the previous eight!

*O*O*O*O*

That is pretty much all I have to say... (last chapter with substantial horse related stuff, for those of you who can't wait to get over and done with it!)

Happy reading, everyone! :3

Chapter Nine: Something Strange

As their carriage reached Kiamo Ko, they were greeted by an exceptionally chipper Fiyero. Avaric disembarked first and chuckled.

"What a pathetic welcoming committee! I see you are all lights and fireworks, my friend, but where is our gracious Queen?"

"Busy with preparations for tonight. My father's congress has come to a successful end and it's time to give our guests an appropriate farewell."

The Prince stuck his head into the carriage and offered his hand.

"May I assist you, My Lady?"

After ordering the footmen to carry up her and Avaric's luggage, Fiyero asked Galinda for a short walk through the gardens.

Although tired from the journey, the blonde accepted, offering him a polite smile. Her obsession with the Vinkun had somehow lessened a tad and if she had had a choice, she would have simply hopped out of the carriage herself and headed straight for Elphaba's door.

As they strolled along the path leading past the marble fountain, she mused how glad she was to be back at Kiamo Ko, and even more so to once again assume the role of sweet, but utterly unimportant Lady Galinda of the Upper Uplands. She briefly considered the possibility that she might be growing a little too fond of her alter ego, however, she discarded this silly notion with a quiet laugh. After all, she was merely taking a much-needed holiday, a temporary leave of absence before she would be eternally bound by her duties as the Queen of all of Oz.

"Don't you think?

"Lin?"

As the Prince's concerned voice grew more urgent, it finally filtered through to the blonde and interrupted her silent contemplations. She suddenly found herself in the midst of climbing roses, covering a long, winding pergola, lyre flowers, hanging off their baskets and lilies, lining the path they walked. Although she had explored the extensive gardens of Kiamo Ko quite thoroughly, she did not know this place and she could not for the life of her recall how in Oz they had gotten there.

Still bemused, she looked up to the Prince. It appeared like Fiyero was keenly expecting some reply from her, and by the way his brows were slightly furrowed and his jaw set firm, it seemed rather important. She hadn't heard a word of what he'd said and felt a little guilty, fearing to offend him by admitting it.

"Um yes? Perhaps? I don't know."

She blushed slightly when she caught herself stammering.

"I-I think I need to lie down," she apologised. "I feel terribly weary."

Galinda blearily glanced in the general direction where she thought Elphaba's quarters should be, realising she couldn't even see the castle through the lush trees and bushes. Despite her tiredness she would still like to first sneak through the library passage and see how her friend was doing.

"Oh," Fiyero said sheepishly. "I'm sorry I dragged you out here. But I suppose there isn't much time to rest anyway. I'd think you'll soon have to get dressed for tonight's dinner."

A sigh of frustration escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and began massaging her temples, willing away the drowsiness and the frustration over still not being able to see Elphaba.

"Well, in that case, I better leave now. I need a proper bath after this long journey. I'll see you at dinner."

The Prince took her hand and kissed it.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Blinking, she briefly regarded the hand he had kissed, before cradling it against her chest. His sudden eagerness was confusing her just a bit.

Thankfully, this dinner party was less formal than the ball had been, and the guests fewer in number. Still, not knowing who exactly was attending, she reminded herself to remain cautious. Her surprise encounter with her old childhood cronies at Avaric's had taught her to always expect the unexpected.

So she chose a pretty, but simple dress - appropriate for the occasion, but nothing too outstanding. Blending in, drawing neither positive, nor negative attention, would be the safest way. Once the maid had left, and before she made her way down to the parlour, she gave herself a quick once over in the mirror. Her silver-grey, high-collared and long-sleeved ensemble gave off an overly demure impression, she thought with a slight cringe.

"Ah well; but a minor sacrifice for the rare opportunity to live a borrowed life."

Finally arriving at the party, Galinda realised in horror that she was already rather late. Judging by the depth of the few conversations she overheard on her way in, all the other guests must have arrived and paired up quite a while ago. It almost seemed like she was left over and without a partner. Her eyes found the Queen, who briefly glanced back at her, arching an eyebrow. Pouting, Galinda sulked a little. A hostess should never be rude to her guests, even if they themselves were not the best example of good breeding.

"There you are!"

Upon hearing the Prince's cheerful voice, the blonde jumped and whirled around.

"Fiyero, you frightened me!" she chided him, placing a hand over her heart.

"And you had me worried," he replied in return. "I thought you might not come."

"Why wouldn't I? At least for the time being, I live here!"

Once again, Galinda was slightly taken aback by his heightened interest in her. Something seemed off.

Before she could think too much on it though, the Queen rang her silver bell.

"Now that we are finally all gathered, we might as well move on to dinner. Please follow me to the dining room."

The pairs filed out of the room behind their host and Fiyero offered his arm to Galinda who accepted it with a flustered smile. At the table, each guest's seat was marked with a place card and Fiyero lead her to the spot with her name. She was once again sitting next to the old Margreave, who grinned widely at her as she took her seat. The place card to her left read 'Lord Shem Ottokos'. The man associated with said name was exotic looking, with hair and skin darker than the royal Tiggular family's, but still unmistakably Vinkun. Over the course of dinner, she realised that he did speak Ozian well enough, but for whatever reason, preferred not to converse with her.

When her eyes followed Fiyero to his seat, she noticed the empty chair beside him. The Lady Sarima was absent, as were her parents. 'How strange,' she thought, yet decided not to spend too much thought on the matter.

After dinner, they moved to yet another room, spacious enough for the one or the other dance. The old Margreave asked her as soon as the first note of the opening number could be heard, and she laughed as she gracefully placed her dainty, small hand in his huge paw. He was such a gentle, noble man, yet there was still something comical about him. The perfect blend of those traits was surely guaranteed to make him beloved by most everyone who made his acquaintance, Galinda supposed and she wished, his grandson, with his inflated ego and loose tongue, had inherited a little more of his charm.

Even before the first dance was over, Fiyero already stepped closer, telling the old Margreave with a nod and a strange grin to surrender his dance partner. Without being asked for her opinion, Galinda changed hands like a sought after doll rather than a being of her own will. When the Prince's bright blue eyes caught hers and she saw the excited spark in them, she scowled defiantly. But then she averted her eyes for a moment and sighed quietly, before turning back to him, a soft smile on her lips. It truly was the way they always said; men are like small children at times – one ought to be patient with them.

One number was not enough for the Vinkun. When their first dance had ended, Galinda was eager to detangle herself from his arms, however, he held her firmly in place.

"It's not proper for me to reserve all of my attention for only one gentleman," she scolded him.

He laughed lightly in reply.

"I'm the Prince. It's my prerogative to demand all the attention I desire."

His words caused her cheeks to flush in a delicate shade of pink and she was left wondering whether the slightly suggestive connotation was intended or an accidental slip. One never knew with bold, young, headless men.

They kept dancing for a long while and, deliberately or not, Fiyero kept making her blush and fluster. He wasn't even nearly as audacious as Avaric and his hands remained firmly in their appropriate place, unlike Chuffrey's, yet his closeness, the playful things he said to her, and above all, the look in his eyes, still made her shiver every now and then, and ultimately, feel rather uncomfortable. She feared he was attracted to her, wanted her - which was bizarre, she realised. After all, this was the purpose of her vacation at Kiamo Ko, was it not? To get to know her future husband and steal his heart. Now why in Oz, would she be afraid of exactly that to happen?

Again she caught herself deeply buried in her own musings and silently reproached herself. It was a particularly bad habit she had contracted recently and the height of ill-breeding. To distract her mind, she began watching the people around them, trying to ignore Fiyero's sweet whispers in her ear and his gentle, warm touch at the small of her back, lest she would redden like a ripe Pertha apple. Once again, she was reminded of the absence of the dark-haired Vinkun Lady.

"I am surprised to see Lady Sarima missing tonight," she said tentatively.

Fiyero shrugged indifferently.

"Our fathers had an argument and they left. But goodness knows, she'll be back soon enough. I don't regret her absence."

"Your Highness!" Galinda admonished him shocked. "That is not a nice thing to say!"

"Why, do you miss her, My Lady?" he chuckled.

Biting her lip, the blonde remained silent and the Prince shook his head in amusement.

Another two numbers later, Fiyero finally allowed her some rest. While he left for a clock-tick to grab a few refreshments, she tiredly sat down on a chair, letting her gaze wander over the crowd. When she locked eyes with the Queen this time, Baxiana smiled back at her before returning her attention back to her conversation with one of the lords. The nagging feeling that something was not quite right intensified and she grew more and more restless.

She remembered what Elphaba had said several nights ago in the fireplace room. Fiyero was to marry Sarima, not one of those girls who only sought to better themselves. The Queen and the King seemed to be in agreement with this sentiment. They always encouraged their son and their niece to behave as a couple and to present themselves as such to their guests. Under their watchful eyes, Fiyero had never interacted much with Galinda, even though he was rather friendly with her whenever they were alone. That night, however, Fiyero was suddenly incredibly attentive and spent nearly all his time with her. And the King and the Queen did not seem to mind. What had changed?

As she turned around in her seat to see where Fiyero was with their snacks and drinks, she spotted Avaric, casually leaning against a high board and chatting to a dark-skinned lady. He noticed her as well and winked. He cast a quick glance across the room, towards Fiyero, then looked back at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Galinda's breath caught in her throat. He wouldn't dare! Or would he?

A glass of wine was being pressed into her hand and, surprised, she looked up to the Prince.

"I wasn't sure what you like, so I brought prawn toast and a fruit tart. Which one would you prefer?"

Glinda was once again distractedly glancing over to Avaric, and confused, Fiyero followed her gaze.

"I... Would you excuse me for a moment?" she asked softly, not taking her eyes off the young Margreave as she stood.

Not waiting for a grant of permission, she crossed the room to join Avaric.

"Oh, My Lady Galinda, brilliant to see you here," the Gillikinese greeted her, baring all his overly perfect, pearly white teeth with a wide grin.

Shooting him a not so impressed glare, she stepped closer, greeting the lady in his company.

"Lady Galinda, this is Lady Faziha of the Yunamata. Lady Faziha, this is Lady Galinda of the Upper Uplands," Avaric galloped through the introductions. "It's a pity, really, but I'm afraid Lady Faziha already promised the next dance to another gentleman."

He bowed and kissed the woman's hand.

"I was so very pleased to make your acquaintance. Perhaps we will speak again another time."

After gently leading her away a couple of paces, he returned to the blonde, who welcomed him back with a scowl.

"I ought to call you a terrible scoundrel, Lord Tenmeadows. Only I know how to be a proper lady and would never even dream of accusing a young man of such a fine family as yours."

Acting all innocent, Avaric cocked his head, an impression of pure disbelief on his face.

"Oh, what in Oz did I do to incur your wrath, My Lady?"

Galinda opened her mouth, but before she could say something, he had already wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Will you grant me the privilege of this dance, My Lady?"

And off he led her, towards the dance floor.

He led her swiftly, but gently. His feet artfully avoided hers, even when she, distracted as she was, placed them clumsily where they did not belong. She had to regretfully admit that Avaric was a better dancer than Prince Fiyero.

"My Lady Galinda," he finally said after they had spent at least half of the dance in silence, "am I right to assume that you wished to talk to me? Perhaps concerning a certain offer I proposed the other day?"

Staring up at his almost blinding grin, she was at first at a loss as to what offer he was referring to. When comprehension set in, she narrowed her eyes to an icy glare.

"That's pretty steep, Lord Tenmeadows! You should consider yourself lucky that I'll probably refrain from charging you with treason!"

Avaric blinked, his overconfident smile slowly slipping away.

"Treason? What do you mean?"

"Betraying my trust and giving away confidential information concerning my person I entrusted you with."

"My Lady, I did no such thing. My lips remain tightly sealed."

Galinda took a moment to think. What if Avaric was telling the truth?

"Well, I find that hard to believe," she maintained. "He knows. I swear by Oz, he knows. And who could possibly have told him? Lurline herself?"

"I'm flattered you think me so daring," the young Margreave of Tenmeadows replied gravely, his expression anything but proud. "But perhaps it would be wise to extend your circle of suspects. There could be other, quiet, observers who might have discovered your little secret and related it to the Tiggulars."

Averting her gaze, Galinda mutely admitted defeat and they spent the rest of the dance in silence. As soon as the number finished, the pair parted wordlessly after two quick bows, and only seconds later, Galinda already spotted another girl in Avaric's arms.

She herself had had her fill of dancing and amusements and zealous, young men that night. Fiyero came rushing towards her when she was already on her way out, but she quickly put him off, explaining that she was exhausted from her travels and wished to retire.

The following morning - Galinda had just finished dressing for breakfast - someone knocked on her door and the maid hurried to open. The caller was a footman, carrying a small, pink box with a blue, silky ribbon. As there was no note attached, she had no choice but to open the package in order to find out who had sent it and what it contained.

To her dismay, there was no card or letter inside the box either, yet the rose coloured riding gloves gave her a good idea who the generous giver could be. Unfortunately, she was not particularly thrilled. Hesitantly, she ran her hand over the impossibly soft leather. What was Fiyero up to?

She heard movement from where the door still stood open and as if to answer her question, the Prince himself detached himself from the shadows and strode into the room. Casually, he leaned against the wall, his legs crossed. He was in full riding attire: shiny, brown boots, cream coloured breeches, white, short-sleeved shirt and a red vest.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Galinda said a little too quietly and a tad too stiffly.

"Good morning," he grinned back at her. "Since you didn't seem too appreciative when I last ruined one of your dresses so you could come out for a hack with me, I suggest you change into more functional clothing this time."

The blonde blinked, rather puzzled.

"Excuse me?"

"Remember when I promised you to take you to the Thousand Year Grasslands?"

She nodded.

"The conditions are favourable today, so I spoke to the herdsmen and asked them to take us with them today when they ride out for the mid season survey."

Galinda considered the offer with a measure of reluctance, until she realised that her acceptance was only a matter of formality anyhow and that the Prince had already made up his mind.

About half an hour later, she was already trotting along to Fiyero's left. The pink colour of her new leather gloves contrasted pleasantly with her cream and pastel green riding habit. Her gelding's grey coat also looked rather nice together with her ensemble and she spent some of the time they rode in silence, musing whether this was the reason why the Prince had chosen this particular mount.

Her gaze fell on the pink gloves adjacent to the green cuffs. Once she had been fully dressed, she had immediately noticed how well the two went together and smiling, she had thought of Elphie. She heaved a quiet sigh and promised herself that upon their arrival back at Kiamo Ko, she would see her friend right away.

After two hours or so, they slowed down a notch and their guides handed out small flatbreads and chunks of horse milk cheese so they could finally enjoy the breakfast they had skipped that morning. Fiyero came a little closer, hoping to strike up a conversation.

"So, how did you enjoy Caprice in the Pines? Do you miss your own Gillikinese home already?"

Galinda shook her head.

"Not particularly. And to be honest, I'm glad to have some peace from Lord Tenmeadows now."

"Avaric?" Fiyero asked laughing. "Yes, he can be quite a handful. Yet you seemed eager to dance with him last night."

His comment made Galinda stare back at him in horror.

"No, never!" she protested. "I merely wished to talk to him about a not too pleasant matter, however, as soon as he had rid himself of the lady in his company, he pulled me onto the dance floor. Which is precisely why I am not as fond of him as I wish I could be."

"I understand. In general, the ladies adore him, but there are a few, like yourself, who find him too brash and too rude. Fae despises him with all her heart."

The blonde swallowed and bit her lip.

"How… how is she?"

Taking a bite of his cheese first, then another of his bread, Fiyero growled.

"Stubborn as usual, no need worrying about her. She should consider herself lucky that father didn't get wind of your little sleepover party the other night. "

"I'm sorry," Galinda replied, dejected. "It was my idea. I told her about my nightmares and she was merely indulging me. Please don't be cross with her."

Fiyero shook his head.

"She should have known better. She grew up here, she knows our father, and she knows the rules.

"Please don't understand this wrong - I love my sister dearly. Only lately she seems to have forgotten who she is and what is good for her."

The Prince briefly glanced at her, then averted his gaze to look ahead. Galinda had trouble reading his expression; was he thoughtful, sad, or perhaps angry? Was he blaming her for Elphaba's recent behaviour, she wondered.

They reached the Thousand Year Grasslands in the late afternoon and found the herd just before nightfall. Galinda was able to catch but a small glimpse of the magnificent animals Fiyero had been telling her about before darkness fell and they set up camp nearby. Drained after such a long ride, they retired after a modest dinner of stick bread and cured sausages. While the men shared two tents, Galinda had one to herself, feeling a little lonely in the silence of the steppe.

When Galinda woke the next morning, it was suspiciously quiet. Slightly worried, she stuck her head out of the tent, realising that the fire had gone out and the other two tents had disappeared. Her breath hitched at the thought, though silly it was, that she might have been left behind. She hurriedly pulled a camisole and a petticoat over her half-sheer chemise and stepped outside. She looked around the camp, heart beating violently in her chest, until pure relieve washed over her as she spotted Fiyero brushing his horse. It wasn't his usual mount, his golden stallion Verdhë Jahl, but a black gelding. All of the herdsmen's horses were geldings as well, for mares and stallions would be too much trouble near the studs currently with the herd to sire foals. Reaching up to comb out the flowing mane, the Prince saw Galinda through his horse's ears. Smiling, he put away the utensil and walked towards her.

"Good morning."

At the sight of the lovely blonde without the top layer of her dress, his brows lifted ever so slightly and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. When Galinda noticed, her cheeks blushed in a bright pink and she took a coy step backwards.

"Good morning," came the hushed reply from her nude lips, lovely and red, even without any make-up.

Fiyero chose not to comment on the state of her dress and simply retrieved some more flatbread and cheese from one of the bags for her to eat.

"The herdsmen will be busy for a while," he told her as he passed her a flask with water. "We could take our horses for a short ride. If they let us, we should try and get a closer look at my father's noble stallions."

Galinda nodded slowly.

"Yes, that would be wonderful. But perhaps, I should rearrange my dress first."

"If you insist," he grinned.

Appropriately dressed, they set out soon after, headed for the herd of horses grazing about a mile away from them by a small lake.

Riding among the approximately five hundred horses, Galinda felt rather uneasy and stayed as close to Fiyero as possible.

"How come the stallions aren't fighting each other?" she asked in astonishment.

"Oh, they do every now and then. The herd is large enough for them to share the females, but fights do occur. You see, we select these animals mostly for their beauty, then nature and their rivals select for strength. Every year in spring, when we release them into the wild, the stallions establish a hierarchy. Those that are not strong enough won't be allowed by their competitors to sire offspring. Very few of them might not return to the castle in autumn. This is how the Vinkuns have bred their horses for over a thousand years, they say."

A silver mare came closer to sniff Galinda's gelding, then leisurely moved on, her big, round belly swinging from side to side.

"Then how do you establish which foals were produced by each stud?" Galinda wanted to know, still watching the pregnant female.

"We don't," Fiyero explained, shrugging his shoulders. "We consider all young horses born in the wild as sons and daughters of the grasslands, only distinguished by the dam that birthed them."

Galinda liked that idea. There was something poetic about it.

"In some ancient Vinkun villages the people follow the same example."

Eyes wide and face flushed, the blonde woman looked up to Fiyero, who laughed heartily.

After the herdsmen had counted all of the animals and attended to a handful of mares with minor injuries, it was time for them to return to Kiamo Ko. They rode all day and even a couple of hours after nightfall. For Galinda the ride in the dark was mildly frightening, but her mount was surefooted and well acquainted with the roads in the castle's proximity. The stable master and some of his underlings held the horses as the party dismounted. Fiyero helped Galinda off her mount, lifting the petite woman out of the saddle with ease, despite the horse's considerable height.

"My Lord, will you join us for a beer or two to replenish your energy and quench your thirst?" one of the herdsmen asked in a for Galinda surprisingly colloquial manner.

But the Prince shook his head.

"Not tonight, dear Tibbett. I think tonight I owe it to My Lady Galinda to treat her to a nice dinner and perhaps some time on the piano."

He smiled down at her and she softly returned his smile, but gently shook her head, thinking of Elphaba.

"No, please don't feel obliged. And to be quite honest, my muscles are sore and my entire body cries for rest. I'm not even hungry, so all I really need is a nice, hot bath and a plush bed."

Looking somewhat disappointed, Fiyero nodded.

"Of course. But we shall find some other time to make up for tonight."

"If you insist," the blonde agreed, smiling angelically.

"Well, Tibbett, lead the way then," he commanded. "My poor, rejected heart craves a few drops of solace. Let's drink till the morning comes!"

Resting his arm onto the shoulders of the man closest to him, he said: "And you, too, Crope. No opting out this time! We're not leaving that tavern before you are sufficiently drunk!"

Shaking her head, Galinda watched the men leave, then quickly hurried back to the castle.

First, she tried the outside door to Elphaba's 'tower', as she often called it. When she found it closed, she was not all too surprised, as it was already fairly late. So she headed unperturbed towards the door to the main hall and, with unusual vigour, climbed the seven stairs until she reached the highest level accessible to guests. She slipped into the small, empty reading room and walked past the few rows of dusty shelves, until she finally stood before a narrow, inconspicuous door. The sound of eager footsteps approaching made her pause. She knew that some of the higher ranked servants were occupying the level since it was not being used by the royal family, or their guests.

The footsteps passed by and could be heard descending down the stairs before they faded away completely and Galinda took a deep breath. She would find herself in a rather awkward position if one of the servants were to discover her snooping around in this deserted room. So, with no further hesitation, she took the door handle and pushed it down.

The door did not open.

She drew sharp breath, biting her lip. Mayhap, the stupid thing was simply stuck – goodness knew, that lock was several hundred years old and rusty through and through. She pulled and pushed and rattled at the ancient door, but to no avail. It was obviously locked.

In her desperation, Galinda only realised how much noise she had been producing when two sets of footsteps, accompanied by anxious whisper, were rushing right towards the abandoned reading room. Without even thinking, she scurried away from the door and hid behind the big, blue sofa.

A footman and the head maid entered the room and looked from left to right. The footman walked towards the door and tried to open it. When the door didn't budge, he seemed satisfied and the two of them left.

Galinda released a sigh of relieve, remaining hidden behind the furniture for a little longer. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she could see the door. A tear rolled down her cheek and her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She missed Elphaba. She wanted to know how her green friend was doing, apologise for the trouble she had caused her, and so much more. And she didn't want to be alone. Sure, she had Fiyero now that he apparently was finally allowed to devote more of his attention to her. But somehow, it wasn't the same. She no longer wanted to be with Fiyero, she rather wanted to be with Elphaba; only in what way, she was not entirely aware yet.