Author's Note: I disclaim. Sorry for the lack of update - I can't seem to motivate myself, though your reviews are one hell of a help and thank you for them.

Caution: The end of this chapter is suggestive. Not for the young ones, please.

Enjoy! xx

"They're here! Mam! Pap!"

The journey to Kiamo Ko had been interminable, boring, hot and cold. Once they left the plains and entered the mountainous rocky regions of The Great Kells the carriage rocked back and forth until it became obvious that the painfully hungry stomachs that they so desperately wanted to fill would be better left unsatisfied. The train was not well-ventilated, and Elphaba spent most of her time with her head on Fiyero's lap as he ran his fingers through her hair and blew cold air onto her neck. She was terribly naeseous. It was with a wonderful sense of relief and surrealism therefore - for Elphaba at least - that they stepped out of the carriage and were met with the happy sounds of family.

"Mam! Come on!" Whined the voice of a little girl who appeared to be loitering in some huge hallway, running to and fro from the doors, trying to welcome the guest and yet be patient enough to wait on her parents. Elphaba hoped she was a forgiving soul. Not that she cared.

Elphaba turned to Fiyero as he joined her on the paving and smiled. He took her hand. "Like it?" He asked innocently, gesturing to the castle with his eyes. Elphaba smiled, nervously, and glanced up. She drew breath sharply. It was formidable. Beautiful, in it's own way, but intimidating. A medieval stone fortress, Kiamo Ko boasted four strong turrets (that she could see, from the front) and was situated on a mountain side; it's walls partially built into the side of the natural rock. It looked like a perfect place to play hide-and-seek. She wondered if Fiyero had ever actually played it; she never had, but it sounded fun. The vista was endless and on a cloudless, still hot day like the one on which they arrived, Elphaba felt she was looking at the end of the world. White great mountains, blue lagoons, and heaving forests epitomised what she took in.

But she didn't speak. "What's wrong?" Fiyero asked, his breath tickling her skin and making her giggle and then blush in utter embarrassment. She hoped the hot tinge on her face would disappear before his parents appeared.

Elphaba breathed in deeply three times. "I'm nervous."

"What?" He chuckled. "You?"

"Don't you dare laugh at me."

"I'm not." He said, barely suppressing another laugh. "Okay, I'm sorry. It's just you're always so . . ." Elphaba began to worry about he would categorise her, but it was a welcome departure form the neusea that she felt at the approaching moment of her introduction to Mr and Mrs Fiyero's Mother and Father, King and Queen of the Arjikis. "You're always so brilliant. I didn't think something like this would rock your sure-footedness."

"Galinda is the Queen Of Social Engagements. You forget. I am good at ruffling feathers and making a nuisance of myself. I'm selfish, too. You should be glad I care about you or I wouldn't give a monkey about insulting your family or not. As it happens, I rather hope they like me. Us."

Fiyero enjoyed that she had termed them as a couple and stole a kiss. "I love you."

"Stop it, Yero. You're making me blush. I don't want your parents to think I'm some stupid schoolgirl."

"Elphaba, of all the things they could think about you, a 'stupid schoolgirl' is not one of them." He said good-naturedly and quietly. It was the last thing they could say in exchange to one another without being overheard as soft toned melodic voices wafted through the still, dense air to greet them. "Hey, Mam, Pap." His parents descended the steps and stood in front of Elphaba. They were both very handsome. "This is Elphaba Thropp."

"Elphaba." She corrected, unnecessarily, as she shook their hands. She credited them with respect as they tried desperately not to show how shocked they were at her skin but she made a mental note to chastise Fiyero later for not warning them. His mother was tall like her, but stately. Where Elphaba would tumble and crash she would strut and remain composed. But she looked caring and happy, so Elphaba did not rush to resentment. His father was a Chieftan in his Prime and Glory. Children running about his castle and a controlled tribe. Barely controlled, but at least not lashing out at one another, so it was enough. "Lovely to meet you." She said, glibly.

"This pleasure is ours, Elphaba." His mother replied. She was asked to call them Nanda and Minas, which she did though it made her uncomfortable and then she was introduced to their children who were attempting to stand in some line or other in front of their parents. "Children, say hello to Elphaba."

"Is she sick?" Chirriped the boy whose shoulder was immediately squeezed by his mother. "She looks sick."

"Sacho!" Minas boomed. Elphaba thought he looked like the Lurlinemas Wizard; friendly and strong. A big man. "Don't let me hear you talking like that."

"It's fine." Elphaba whispered, her voice catching. She really didn't know how to touch the subject with children. Her skin just was. With everyone else she would respond sarcastically and they'd have to put up with it. That course of action seemed the least desirable. Perhaps Galinda was rubbing off on her. She felt the wonderful warmth of Fiyero's hand on her back.

"She's beautiful, Sacho. Emerald, like the City." Fiyero kissed her quickly causing a blush that was only worsened by Elphaba's fury at the affectionate gesture. "Mam, where's Kip?"

"Ah, my youngest baby boy is sleeping, Elphaba, you'll see him tomorrow morning." Elphaba nodded, dutifully arranging her face to look as though she was bothered whether she met him today or tomorrow or the next day. What interest had she in it? "I think you should have a proper rest and freshen up before dinner, don't you? I can imagine that train was a nightmare." One of the little children asked her mother what a nightmare was. Nanda tossed her hand in the air as though she were swotting an imaginare fly. Elphaba was intrigued; the girl had to be six or seven and she did not know what a nightmare was? Even Galinda had an idyllic life, but she was fairly certain that by seven years old she would have known the difference between a dream and a nightmare.

Nanda and Minas led them inside to rooms that took the breath from Elphaba. Arched marble corridors filled with light from windows of immeasurably large height. Reception rooms and rooms of decorative value, rooms that seemed to have a function but Elphaba, in her fleeting glance of them, could not name it. She saw a little more of the rooms belonging to the younger children as they were left to occupy themselves during the rest of the tour. "They don't need to know where you sleep, either. Trust me, Elphaba. The girls will become attached to you and come knocking on your door at all hours of the morning!" Nanda joked, but Elphaba did not think the situation likely, even if the girls did find out where she lived.

She pictured them more avoiding her at all costs; they'd spent most of their time with her staring in wonder. Well she hoped it was wonder.

As they wandered further, Elphaba was introduced to the familial history of the busts and artefacts that were scattered about. Far from the plush overzealous indulgence of Gillikin homes (of which she had had a taste in her experience of Galinda at Shiz), Kiamo Ko seemed to show it's pride without arrogance. Perhaps it was the soothing voice of Nanda; Elphaba warmed to her instantly and as she was toured the rooms on the way to her own and they walked together.

"I must confess, Elphaba." Sighed the older woman as they meandered a silent corridor that Elphaba had been told was where her room lay. Nanda's words seemed to breeze past like an old willow tree. It was an endearing voice. "I am so glad you are here. I've not seen my son as happy in many years." It was all she said before Fiyero, ahead of them walking with his father, opened her door.

"Your room while you're with us, Ma'am." He whispered into her ear as she passed him. His smile had broken into a self-satisfied grin at his humourous attempt. However unfunny it was, Elphaba found it . . . sexy. Especially when he towered over her the way he did. Her mind brought up memories from their affair-on-the-train and she suppressed them so as to remain focused in front of his parents. The room was huge to say the least. Elphaba had to crane her neck right back to see the ceiling, and it was perfectly clean and white. Huge glass windows whose tallest panes almost touched the roof gave her an uninterrupted view of the rear of the castle. There was a blue lagoon hugged by fluffy evergreens that only seemed to pepper the base of the mountains. It seemed well-used. Maybe they swam there.

"It's wonderful, thank you."

Nanda touched her husband's elbow, telling him they were supposed to leave. "Why don't you rest up for our evening meal? Fiyero, it's at eight and your brother will be there." Elphaba watched his face light up, though she wondered if his parents could see it. "Lovely to meet you, Elphaba."

"You too." She said redunantly. The door clicked closed and their footsteps softly disappeared into the distance. Elphaba sighed and sat on the bed, immediately reclining when she felt how soft it was. "Well, that wasn't too bad." She closed her eyes. "I'm exhausted."

"I thought it went unbelievable well." Fiyero said, joining her on the bed and pulling up to him for a kiss. They pressed their bodies closer together and Elphaba moaned, recklessly encouraging him when his hand moved up her dress. His thumb traced an invisible line along her jaw and down her neck that was quickly followed by his mouth.

"I don't think this is what your mother had in mind when she suggested we rest before dinner."

Fiyero sighed and kissed her lips. "What difference does it make? And please don't mention my mother when I'm making love to you."

"It doesn't seem to have discouraged you . . ." She said, the placement of her hand on his trouser buttons not exactly discouraging him anyway. She murmured against his kisses and they fell together across the bed, on the sheets.

"What the bloody hell do you mean? Just shut them down for the love of God - of . . . of the Unnamed God!" The Wizard corrected himself quickly, his skin turning red and angry beads of sweat flying from his forehead and spatting on his papers, scattered in disarray over his tables and desks. The head of the Gale Force and departments of his societal offices were before him on phone lines. The Ministries of Health, Education and Economy had been ordered to report to him their current stance on the Animal population. Oscar stood, attempting to tower over his problems but succeeding only in stooping, and growled. "You have let these minor . . . guidlines get out of control."

The Minister for Education raised his voice slightly. Rage brimmed and boiled over. "Your Ozness," He said, with less and less respect, "it was your platform of instruction that led our anti-Animal campaigns. They made sense; the Animals are bloody unruly-"

"They are not!" He raged, slamming his fists on the table, the papers and phones jumping in fright.

"Excuse me!" The minister was balding before his time, Oscar remembered, and it made him more cutting. "How can you make this U-turn? How can you expect anyone to take this?"

Oscar stuttered and failed to answer. He couldn't just change the policies he had put it place to control the Animal population. It had been his attempt to assert the control, the power he had never had before. The influence. Decisions lay with him, and he not only now had a place to live and food to eat, but he was even protected from seeing people lest they grow less respectful of him. It was his size as "The Wizard of Oz" that would prevent the Minister for Education from doing anything more than conveying childish insolence over the phone. Oscar loved it. He loved it. But he realised something else as he slumped into his chair, cheaply thanked the men for their reports and hanging up.

He may have loved his power and he sure as hell was not going to give it up.

But he loved his daughter more.

"Elphaba, then. Tell us about yourself."

Elphaba almost swallowed her tongue. "Beg pardon?" Tell us about yourself?

Evard nodded and repeated himself. "What? Never been asked the question before?" He meant it as a joke, but Elphaba didn't feel it would be out of place to reply that she had never been asked it. "What? Never, really?"

"What would be the point of lying to you, Evard?" She replied, placing her spoon of creamed soup that had been halfway to her mouth. His arrival had calmed her; he was very like Fiyero and being closer in age to both of them, she felt more comfortable being herself. Whoever the hell that was. "I've never been asked that. But if you really want to know . . ."

"I do." He said, confidently. "What're your parents like?"

Fiyero sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens, and tried to stop short of wishing Elphaba wouldn't mention how her mother had died at least. He gave up on it, though. She would say it. It was who she bloody was. Elphaba smirked. "My mother died when I was three, giving birth to my little sister, whose premature arrival has permanently crippled her and confined her to a wheelchair." Evard stared at her. "I'm the pretty one." She said, dryly. But it was funny, she was sarcastic. As Evard and his mother and father apologised quietly, she smiled, to ease the tension.

"That's true." She heard Fiyero whisper under his breath, only for her to hear. She looked forward to a moment when they could be alone. She was beginning to miss when he wasn't with her, and though she worried about being labelled 'lovesick' she blamed it on a newly found excitement over sex. She couldn't get enough of him.

"Okay," began Evard, more cautiously now, "what're you studying at Shiz? And what the hell did you do to get noticed by the old Wizard?" Nanda reprimanded his language.

Nice move., thought Fiyero. Mentioning the Wizard always put a sparkle in her eyes. Fiyero wondered if, in forty years' time, she'd use her academic achievements as sexual fuel. Ha, no that can't be possible, he laughed.

"Life Sciences and Sorcery. It wasn't originally a double major, but our headshiztress thought I was talented and that the Wizard would be interested, so I took it. I didn't even know it was a talent. I just used to cause weird things to happen and I couldn't explain them. My father's a Unionist. Bit of a nightmare, to be honest." Fiyero almost couldn't speak; she was talking openly to his family, whom she'd just met, and she was making them laugh and engaging in fairly pleasant conversation. Granted, later on, when they got to talking about Life Sciences, her opinions would rise to the surface and she'd make some unintended insult about Vinkus policy, but he didn't really care. He loved her spunkiness. He almost couldn't wait for the arguments and for now, the tiny admissions showed she wanted them to like her.

He was more in love with her than ever.

"We're not sleeping together, are we?"

Fiyero closed his eyes as he felt her hand ghost his cheek and her lips press into his. It was sweet and hot and he ran his hands along her shoulders and down her back. "No. But I'll come to your room."

She sighed. "I feel like a fucking child. You can't sneak into my room. We're adults."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just come inside, let's go to bed."

She broke away from his kiss and put her arms around his neck. Closing the space between them, she buried her neck in his shirt and it frightened him a little, that she would cling to him like that. He wrapped his arms across her waist and kissed her hair. Would it be really terrible if he stayed with her? It wasn't his parents he was worried about. Though he knew they probably wouldn't approve and would prefer him to stay in a separate room to Elphaba, they would stay silent and say nothing, and they certainly wouldn't treat her any differently, nor would they make any crude or obscene gestures or remarks that would make it plain to others what he and Elphaba were doing behind closed doors.

No, it was his brother he worried about. For all that he loved and respected Evard (Oz, did he say loved? That's disgusting), his elder brother would spread it around his circle of friends a bloody marmalade. It was borne from a sense of pride, he knew. But Fiyero just hated the thought of people thinking about them - about Elphaba - in that way. It was nothing to do with objectifying women, and though it had something to do with a protective feeling he had towards her reputation and their private relationship, most of all it was plain old jealousy. Jealousy. He did not want people ogling the woman he was in love with. He was utterly over-protective of her. He partly blamed Mraic; if it had almost happened that time, he knew it could happen again. Strong women are still at risk, and he knew Elphaba's weaknesses were more than her strengths.

As he kissed her again, hard against the door of her room, he knew she knew he would be saying goodnight. He just didn't want the rumors. The talk. He wanted her to be free of that. Hypocritical, he knew, after having slept with her for the first time on a mode of transport. But he'd just got carried away. That was all. When he tried to say 'goodnight', she had shut the door in his face silently, angrily. He knew she hated sleeping alone.

Elphaba felt her eyes peel open. Her lids were sealed with salty water and her body wore a shiny film of sweat. She didn't need to look to know that her sheets were in a wild mess all around her. From the high-paneled windows, moonlight that had seemed dreamlike and soothing when she drifted off was harsh now. It was a spotlight that lit her and drew to the attention of the Vinkus that she was frightened and nervous.

She had dreamt about Mraic. It was an awful nightmare. Nothing was new, it had never changed since the fact. He still dominated her. Abused her. She still couldn't move or run or hide or scream. It was funny, she often expected to wake in a snap; sit up suddenly, shout or yell and wake up the house. But her reaction was never like that. Sometimes she'd wake to find Galinda hovering over her, concern written on her face and water in her hand. If she was alone, it was usually the silent, slow waking. It unnerved her.

She never had the nightmare when she was with Fiyero.

Sitting up on her elbows, she took a few deep breaths. There was no question of sleep now; sometimes, if she was with Galinda, they'd sit and talk about everything other than what had woken them both up. Or they'd just sit until they fell asleep. She felt bad enough about the way she had said goodnight to Fiyero, but it annoyed her that he cared so much about what other people thought of him. "You're never going to get along, Yero. You can't please everyone," she had said to no avail and the memory of his arms leaving from her waist brought another shiver crawling up her spine. She would find Fiyero.

Disentangling herself from her sheets, she wrapped a kaftan around her shoulders and left her eerie room. She didn't pause to think too deeply about the fact that she had no idea where his room was, though it prayed heavily enough on her mind. The cool floor hurt her feet and she recognised a desire to be warm, to be back in bed. There was no clock that she could see but it must have been early morning judging by the waning darkness. Maybe she'd be able to catch the sunrise.

"Elphaba!"

She stopped and squeaked a bit before she saw it was Fiyero.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" He asked, frowning. "Elphaba?" She watched him step toward her. He was wearing a dark navy - was that velvet? - dressing gown, left open so she could see the boxers that he liked to wear to bed. She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "What happened? I'm surprised to see you here, love."

"I was looking for you. I had a . . . ah . . ."

"Ah what?" He laughed, and tried to pull back to see her face, but her arms were in his gown and around his waist. "Geez, Fae. You're freezing."

"I had a nightmare." She whispered. They were standing in the middle of a connecting hallway that led to the kitchen and anyone, anyone, could walk in on them, but Fiyero knew what she meant.

"Oz, Fae. I'm sorry." Elphaba was one of the most hardy people he knew; it broke his heart that she had been so desolate as to wander about a castle all night looking for him. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I just . . . I . . . don't want to be alone in that room anymore. It's too big for me. I want you."

"Fae - I . . . just can't." He avoided her eyes as he felt her tense up and step away from him.

"What?"

"It's just I don't want people talking about us or you. I hate that talk. I hear it all the time."

She stared at him a moment. He looked uncomfortable under her gaze, her ire and he tried to crack a joke. It was stiff and ran away from them in the silence. "Fine. I'm going to bed."

"You don't even know where to go."

"Well I found you fairly well all by myself, didn't I? Your bloody great house isn't that much of an enigma, Yero." She heard his feet patter on floor and his hand take hers. "Fiyero . . ." He kissed her cheek and walked forward with his head high. "Stop it. You don't want to come."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't." She stopped and wrenched her hand away. "Why all of a sudden the change of mind? Why?"

"Why are you so angry?"

"Oh, well, maybe I was just insulted that my boyfriend doesn't want to sleep with me!" She shouted in a half-whisper. "Or is it that you don't want your precious family to think I'm spoiled, or that you'd ever lay your hands on someone like me?"

"That's not fair. Elphaba, that's not true and you know it. I love you!" She humphed and, in anger at her, he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her fiercely. "I love you." He breathed, feeling her grasp his lapels and claw at his chest. They were up against the wall, Elphaba's nightdress at her waist and Fiyero's velvet coat concealing them. They were on the floor and her legs were locked around his waist, and it was slower. "Elphaba . . ." He whispered again.

"You're such a hypocrite, Yero."

"What?"

"You don't want to sleep in my room, and you don't want me to sleep in your room, but you're fine making love to me on the hall floor."

"I can't help it. I'm a voyeur. An exhibitionist. I like the danger." She smiled and kissed him and for a moment, he watched her. The barely-there light danced off her face and her cheekbones wore a false dark blush. Her skin was covered in a thin layer of perspiration from their lovemaking. She looked gorgeous, and he ran his hands up her dress, which she hadn't removed, to feel her breasts. "I get jealous, Fae." He said, as she closed her eyes, rocking gently over him. "I get so jealous. I don't like people thinking of you the way I do."

"What, naked? Making love to you?"

"Making love to you!." He emphasised. "You're . . . you're mine, Fae. All mine." He said, and picked her up, lying her on the floor to bring them, and his point, home.

"Fiyero," Elphaba curled further into him. He was sitting against the wall now, and she leaned against his shoulder. "You don't think I get jealous? Look at you, look at who you are. Everyone wants you, men and women. They just do, you're for everyone." He protested, but she sat up and kissed him, still passionate from his attentions to her, but tiredness now creeping in and a realisation that she'd have to walk all the way back to her room. "Yero, my Hero. You can't stop people from thinking, though Oz knows most of them don't around here. It doesn't matter. I don't want to be with anyone else."

She sat up again and they kissed lazily before it dawned on them like the sun rising over the mountains that however much neither of them now cared about 'talk', they didn't want to be found tumbled together on the floor. Fiyero tied his dressing gown and shifted down Elphaba's dress before he scooped her up and carried her to her bed. They slept there until breakfast.

You know what to do . . .