"Father's home!" Nessarose called happily.

Elphaba furrowed her brow. That wasn't a month. Had he sold everything already?

She wiped the flour off her hands and hurried to answer the door so he wouldn't have to wait. The poor horse looked in horrendible shape, the whites of his eyes visible, his brown coat spackled white with sweat, his legs trembling.

Frex and Boq both looked rattled, sitting rigidly on the seat, their clothes in disarray. As if they hadn't stopped an instant the entire time they were gone.

"Father? Are you alright? What happened?" Elphaba asked and spotted the bouquet of flowers clenched white-knuckled in his hand. Several crumpled poppies and a single rose, the petals more vibrant than she had ever seen, even in the prettiest of Munchkinland meadows.

"I…" Frex blinked slowly and seemed to really look at her for the first time in her life. "Unload the wagon."

"Yes, sir," she said and hurried to do so.

She carried the empty crates to the shed, but was shocked to find three still heavy with bolts and accessories. One of them rattled with something that most certainly wasn't fabric. Elphaba opened it to find a small, wooden chest the size of a bread box. She lifted the lid and gasped. Inside was a gold chalice, silver and gold coins, and precious gems. She grabbed it and ran inside.

"Father, where did you get this?" she asked, wondering why he would look so rattled if he received such a great fortune.

"What?" Frex looked at the chest and opened it, then quickly slammed it shut. He looked at a ripped burlap sack clutched in the hand that wasn't holding the flowers.

A slow, giddy smile spread across his face. Elphaba was unnerved; Nessarose was delighted.

"Have you found a fortune, Father?" she asked.

"Yes… I believe I have," he said and cleared his throat. "My dearest Nessarose, this is for you."

He presented the rose to her.

"Oh, Father!" Nessarose gasped. "Is this pearl real?"

Elphaba looked and indeed nestled in the center was a delicate pearl the size of the nail on her little finger.

"Elphaba, the poppies."

Elphaba scrambled to grab onto the flowers he shoved at her, ignoring the sting of its tiny thorns. They were beautiful. She touched the petals to find them soft like velvet. They were a bit crumpled from the journey, but they were such a rich shade of red. Almost unnaturally so.

"Upon our travels, Master Underhill and I found ourselves the guest of a very… unique gentleman," said Frex.

"He was a—"

Frex hissed, silencing Boq.

"He is in want of a wife," he continued. "Therefore, Elphaba. As my eldest daughter, you will go and be married to him.

"I—what?!" Elphaba squawked. "Father, no! Who will care for Nessa?"

"He has paid for you in kind," said Frex, returned to his cool, calculating self. "And I trust that you would not let your dear sister become destitute. However, there is plenty for her own dowry and when the time comes I will select for her a suitable husband."

Married. To a man she didn't know.

Sold to a man she didn't know. A complete stranger.

"You can't make me do this!" Elphaba protested. "I won't do it!"

Her head jerked sharply to the side, her cheek stinging.

Frex lowered his hand, his expression hard.

"He is a wealthy gentleman who has requested your hand in marriage, Elphaba. Do not make a liar out of me! If you care one twig for Nessa's wellbeing, you will do this."

Elphaba clenched her jaw and ran upstairs to her room. She didn't understand. Her sole purpose in life was to look after Nessarose. It was expected that when Nessa married, Elphaba would be sent along as her nurse. Her job was to take care of her, cater to her every whim… yet now she was being sent away? If this stranger was so well off, why wasn't he matched to Nessa?

It made no sense. Elphaba sank down onto her bed and threw the poppies down beside her, her hand scratched with small welts of blood puckering up as red as the petals. She looked around her room. She didn't have much. Clothes, books, and the little bottle that belonged to her mother.

Could she run away? Find her way elsewhere? Elphaba got the jar hidden in her wardrobe with her savings. It wasn't much. Still, she was a weaver, there was always a need for weavers, but… Father would recognize her work, find her, and drag her back.

This wasn't fair. He couldn't make her!

He couldn't…

Elphaba got out two carpet bags, waffling between running away and accepting her fate.

Of course, it all came down to Nessa. Do this for Nessa, he said. But why decide to hire outside help now when he had Elphaba to do it for free? To cook and clean for free?

No. Not free.

To earn her keep.

Right…

Well, he could give Nessa to the wealthy stranger and be guaranteed she would live her life in comfort.

"Elphaba! The carriage is here!"

Already?! Elphaba ran to the window.

The carriage was jet black and lavishly gilded with gold. It was pulled by a massive horse that was stocky to boot and jet black. The driver was just a shape, almost fuzzy and wearing a huge fluffy black and white cloak despite the warm day.

No… she wasn't ready. She had to make sure she found someone to care for Nessa. She wasn't packed. She didn't want to get married. She didn't even know this man! Why on earth would he want her?!

Elphaba crammed books, the bottle, and clothes into her bags. She would make a run for it. She had a long stride, she was strong from hard work.

"Elphaba!"

Frex burst into the room carrying a mass of white fabric.

"Put this on," he said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's your mother's wedding dress," he said. "She said whichever daughter was wedded first would have it. Be quick."

"Father… please don't make me do this," Elphaba begged.

"Don't be difficult," said Frex sharply. "This is a powerful man. Rich. You should be happy someone would even consider marrying you."

That stung more than another slap would have.

"If you aren't down within the hour, you will be going in whatever state of dress you are in," he said and shut the door firmly.

She heard the lock click from the outside.

Trembling slightly, she swiftly changed into her mother's gown. It was a beautiful cream colored gown, one she had always thought she would tailor to suit Nessa.

It had a large skirt and the neckline sat just at the edge of her shoulders with lace ruffles down the bust and sleeves. She tied off the skirt and the bodice, then secured the veil on her head.

In Mother's wedding portrait, the crinoline under the dress had been twice as big, so with half the padding the hem just reached Elphaba's ankles.

This had to be a dream. She had accidentally fermented the fruit somehow and got drunk off the fumes. She had a fever and was hallucinating. She had suddenly come down with hysteria or whatever it was doctors seemed to think only women got.

Elphaba crammed her favorite and unread books into the bag and closed it before pulling on the lace gloves she had made for herself just so she could have something fine too.

The door unlocked and Frex dragged her out by the arm, barely giving her enough time to grab her things.

"Wait, I need to say goodbye to Nessa!"

"No time to waste, can't keep your husband waiting!" Frex tossed her bags into the carriage and practically threw her in next. He shut the door and looked at the driver. "I don't need to pay you, do I?"

He suddenly went white as a sheet and strode back to the house.

"Wait!" Elphaba cried, trying the handle. "Nessa! I love you, Nessa!"

She could see her sister at the door.

"Nessa!"

Why wasn't she answering?

The carriage pulled away at breakneck speed. Elphaba turned around in her seat to watch Frex go to her sister, and then she rounded the lane and couldn't see anything but trees.

She didn't even get to say goodbye…

This couldn't be happening. Elphaba buried her face in her hands. This wasn't right. Why wouldn't they be going with her? Why was there no courting? Why couldn't she have just a moment to say goodbye? One last dinner together as a family? And why did Frex want her of the two sisters to marry a wealthy gentleman?

It didn't make sense.

Elphaba looked out the window. The carriage moved swiftly through town.

"Dr. Dillamond!" Elphaba shouted, leaning out the window.

The Goat looked stunned and loped alongside the carriage.

"Miss Elphaba, where are you going?" he asked.

"I seem to find myself married—please, slow down! Let me say goodbye!"

The carriage slowed.

"Married… Why this is good news, isn't it?" said Dr. Dillamond.

"It's sudden," said Elphaba. "I'm sorry, I don't know where I'm going."

She stuck her hand out. Maybe he could pull her out.

Dr. Dillamond pressed her hand between his hooves.

"I wish you great happiness, Miss Elphaba," he said. "I do hope to see you again. Write to me when you're settled."

The horse kicked up and she was pulled away. Elphaba quickly sat back down before she got decapitated. She was carried past the town, past the farthest point she had ever gone from Munchkin City. It moved farther and farther away, faster than any carriage she had ever seen.

As the scenery flew by, Elphaba oscillated between fear, despair, and anger. Just who did this man think he was? Was he really this powerful that Father would bow to him so easily? But really! What gentleman didn't even pursue a proper courtship? Was that really the price they decided she was worth?

Why her?

Elphaba kicked the opposite seat and screamed. She didn't want to go. How could he do this to her?!

The carriage seemed to fly on the yellow brick road, until the flat farmlands and sweeping meadows of Munchkinland turned to beautiful trees, tall and strong, and rolling hills. She passed by villages, hamlets, towns, and cities. The horse didn't seem to tire at all and the driver didn't answer any questions.

Elphaba tried to keep track of where she was, but there were times the view changed so suddenly, she doubted a map would even help.

When she had longed for an escape, this wasn't what she had in mind. She was a servant to her family and now she was meant to become the wife of a man who couldn't even pass along his name. Would she really have to perform 'wifely duties'?

She shuddered and hugged herself.

Soon, the hills turned into mountains. Paintings hadn't done them justice, but Elphaba couldn't bring herself to admire them. The forest was massive with tall, twisting trees and fog. The deeper in she went, the darker it got, the sky so grey as if it were trying to pass for night.

The path wound up and up, sending Elphaba sliding around in her seat. She passed through a wicked looking iron gate and the trees broke, allowing her to see her new home.

The massive castle rose up, almost looking like it was carved out of the mountain itself. A fortress with massive towers reaching to the sky and topped with domed roofs like tulip bulbs.

It was creepy. Foreboding.

Lightning flashed, making her flinch. She covered her ears for the crackle of thunder that never came. Peeking out, she saw the sky lighten to a soft grey. Just enough to let the cool blues of dusk take over as the sun sunk behind the mountain peak.

The carriage passed through another gate opening up into a courtyard and rounded around to the entrance of the castle. Standing at the top of the stairs just in front of the doors was a figure. Tall and skinny.

Elphaba scowled and flipped her veil over to hide her face. If he wanted her so bad, he'd have to fetch her himself.

The door opened and after thirty seconds, her anger won out. She stomped out of the carriage and up the steps.

"What's the matter with you?!" she shouted, storming up to the man and swinging at him. "Exchanging someone's life for a handful of trinkets? I am not a cow at market that can be bought or sold! You—"

Her shoulders were grabbed. Something didn't feel right about them. The fingers were much too long, there was no give of flesh, and they were hard like bone.

"Not even a minute and you're already yelling at me?" said a deep, raspy voice. "That's quite rude, you know."

Something was wrong. Elphaba's veil was lifted back and both parties yelped, recoiling.

Ah… she understood now, why she was sent here instead of Nessa.

This thing wasn't a man at all. His body was tall and skinny, made of wood. He wore ratty clothes that was stuffed with straw to try and fill him out. He was much taller than Elphaba, towering over her. His head was a pumpkin with a crooked face carved into it, a pair of eyes glowed like candle flames in the dark pits.

A scarecrow…

"You're the most beautiful girl in Oz?" he scoffed incredulously.

Elphaba clenched her jaw and felt heat rise up in her chest.

"Says the one with a pumpkin for a head!" she spat.

"At least I'm not the one walking around looking like you do."

She flinched and bit back the tears that formed in her throat while she fetched her bags.

"Why even ask for me then, huh?"

"I don't know. A guy who trades his daughter for himself seems like a jerk," Scarecrow retorted. "Guess now I know why he was so eager."

"Are you going to kick me back to Munchkinland or let me in?" she demanded.

He stared at her, then stepped aside. She marched into the castle with her nose in the air, jumping as something swooped down.

"Lady!" A Monkey with bright cobalt blue wings sat at her feet. "Lady, lady, lady!"

"That's Chistery," said Scarecrow. "You can sleep here tonight, but then—"

The front door slammed shut, sending Elphaba skittering forward a few feet, and Scarecrow whipped around.

"What do you mean she's staying?!"

There was creaking and a gust of wind blew through the castle. Scarecrow stomped back to the door and opened it, only for it to jerk out of his hand and slam shut.

"This again?!"

He was talking… to the castle.

Elphaba stepped back and looked around, though the exterior was formidable, the inside seemed to favor a sweeping architecture that reminded her of the dead tree she liked to sit and read on when she was a child.

A tug on her skirts made her look down. Chistery offered a hand.

"Urgh! Okay, fine, why not?!" said Scarecrow. "You can stay as long as you like, but I hope you realize I don't have any intentions of marrying you."

"Oh? And what exactly had you planned to do if I was beautiful?"

"I don't know," he huffed. "I wasn't expecting you to arrive at all and I certainly didn't send my carriage to get you. It just leaves sometimes, but since this is such an issue, you can stay as my guest."

"Good. I can't go back home anyway."

"Fine."

"Fine!" Elphaba took Chistery's hand and he led her up a grand staircase.

"Chistery, show her to the tower. The really tall one."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. At least she didn't have to marry whatever this thing was. Though it still stung that he was repulsed by her. She didn't want this anyway, why should she be upset?

It gave her the same feeling when she attended the rare festival with her sister. True, she didn't want to dance, but it still hurt when she wasn't even asked.

She looked around the corridors of the castle, dark and forbidding. Perhaps it was just due to it being dark and dusty, but she was really creeped out. She still wasn't convinced that this wasn't a fever dream.

Chistery led her up a winding staircase. The door at the top opened up to a spacious room. There were tall windows and a balcony overlooking the mountains, valley, and castle grounds. For a tower, it didn't quite seem like a prison. There were shelves with rotting books by the entrance.

She had to step down into the room and saw that the space beneath the platform also had shelves with dusty old instruments for mapping and stargazing. A slanted desk was off to one side with some sludge of a map pooled along the brace. In the very center of the room was a stone pedestal with a square of moth-eaten fabric covering something round that turned out to be a massive crystal ball. A broken arm chair sat in front of a damp fireplace, cold and empty.

There was a nook behind a set of heavy curtains. Elphaba pulled them back to find it the sleeping space. There was a box bed with a lock, a wash stand—though the basin was cracked, as was the mirror—a large wardrobe, and a wooden wash tub.

Could be worse. At least she didn't have to share a bed with that thing.

He was probably thinking the same about her.

Elphaba grabbed a broom out of a mess of cobwebs in the corner and used the handle to open the door to the bed. Something skittered out of sight, making her shudder. She did not want to know what was living in that mattress.

Oh well, she could make do for the night and clean tomorrow.

Good thing it wasn't Nessarose. Even if she was able to get up those stairs with her chair, she would pitch a royal fit at the state of this room.

"Lady! Lady!" said Chistery.

Elphaba turned to the Flying Monkey. He grabbed her hand and tugged her back towards the stairs.

She sighed and removed the veil. As an after-thought, she grabbed a book.

Chistery led her back downstairs to a dining hall. The table was set with a large, dusty center piece. The room was lit by the fireplace along with candles on the table and sconces on the walls. Scarecrow was already sitting at one end of the table.

"Sit! Sit!" said Chistery, running ahead to pull her chair out at the opposite end.

Scarecrow waved a spindly hand.

Elphaba sat down and noticed the space where his meal should have been was empty.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked and a horrible thought occurred to her. "Oh, Oz, you eat people don't you? Is that why my father sent me here?!"

"I already filled up on rude, green-skinned women for lunch," said Scarecrow sarcastically. "So I'm good."

Okay, yes, that was a little ridiculous. Elphaba shook her head and put her napkin in her lap. There was soup in a tureen, fresh bread, a very small roasted bird, roasted vegetables, a cheese and fruit plate, and some type of pudding.

"Castle likes to prepare a feast for guests," said Scarecrow. "As you're staying for an undetermined amount of time, I'm sure future meals will be simpler?"

The candles spat in response.

Elphaba wasn't really comfortable eating in front of people. Most of the time she served dinner to her father and Nessa, then ate in the kitchen.

She tried the soup first and was amazed at the flavor. It was creamy, rich, and spicy. Food in Munchkinland was good with a homey flavor, but everything here had a zing to it. Flavors she didn't recognize, but enjoyed.

Figuring she wasn't going to have much conversation with the scarecrow, nor did she have any desire to, Elphaba opened her book.

The candles dimmed and a façade on the wall in the shape of musical instruments began to actually play soft, romantic music.

Elphaba lowered her spoon and scowled.

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped.

"It's not me! It's—" Scarecrow looked up and sliced his hand across his throat with a short hiss. "Cut it out!"

The violin shrieked as the music stopped abruptly and the light returned to full brightness.

"The castle has a mind of her own," said Scarecrow.

"How do you know it's a she?"

"Because the old Vinkun word for 'castle' is in feminine form," he said.

Elphaba twitched her eyebrow in concession and tried to continue reading her book. Her skin crawled and she sent him another glare.

"Are you going to watch me eat every meal?"

Scarecrow slowly stood and began to walk away. The chair chased after him, forcing him to sit back down before swinging back around so he was closer to Elphaba.

He crossed his arms and pouted like a petulant child.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Oh." Elphaba pushed her glasses up with her thumb joint and looked back at her book.

Well… it could be worse. The food was good, the room was warm.

When she had finished eating, she placed her fork and knife in an 'X' over her plate. The dishes disappeared in a single sweep.

"Thank you for the meal," she said.

There was a groan of shifting foundations.

"She says, 'You're welcome,'" said Scarecrow.

Elphaba stood up, clutching her book to her chest.

"Goodnight," she said.

He grunted in response. She rolled her eyes and made her way back to the tower. The weather hadn't eased up any, but it didn't seem to get much worse.

At the very least, there was now a roaring fire.

Elphaba sighed softly and looked at the box bed. No… she did not want to get mauled by bugs and mice. If only she had thought to pack a blanket.

Shivering, she grabbed her bags and settled down in front of the fire, using one as a pillow. She found a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. She placed her glasses on the hearth and laid down. She hated to get her mother's dress dirty, but she doubted she could send it back or that it would be used again.

Okay. So she was in a castle far away from her life, with a scarecrow that asked for her hand in marriage… as a joke. If she went home now, she would likely be sent away, and the scarecrow was planning on giving her the boot as soon as the castle decided she'd stayed long enough. When that happened, she would have nowhere to go.

Elphaba didn't cry often. Namely because she had no time for such nonsense. Who had time to cry when the weaving needed to be done and the sewing and the baking and the sweeping? Now, she was truly alone with nothing but her thoughts, the fire, and the chilling howl of the wind for company.

They welled up and dripped down her nose with each blink. She wept softly until she fell into an uneasy sleep.