Hello! There is quite a bit of backstory in this chapter, since this is a sequel. My hope is that I am giving a properly full picture, even if you have not read the first fic, so you can still enjoy this one.

Chapter 3

Elphaba hated Kiamo Ko.

It was a beautiful building, an architectural and engineering marvel according to all the books she had read about it. The vaulted ceilings, the detailed stonework, the way the windows were laid out to ensure a constant, comfortable breeze to keep the inhabitants cool during the worst of the warm weather the Vinkus was known for. The whisper of secret passageways, a long spoken myth that added to the mystery and mystique of the palace and solidified it as a point of fascination for anyone interested in architecture. There was, historically, much to love about the place.

She wondered if there was a way for her to feel anything but fear. Academically, she tried her best to be enthusiastic about it. But emotionally all she could do was remember her first visit. She and Fiyero had stumbled back into each other's arms for the final time, and Fiyero had brought her home to announce that she would be his wife.

His father, Marillot Tiggular was not pleased.

Fiyero had been engaged to a girl named Sarima, and broke it off in Gillikin, at one of Glinda's gatherings. Sarima left as early as possible, and beat Fiyero to the Vinkus by quite a few weeks, her family complained to the king and queen and the state of royal affairs was a mess by the time Fiyero and Elphaba arrived. They were primed to hate her. A Munchkinlander disowned by her father, a widow fresh off the shadowy death of her husband, a woman rumored to be the kind of witch who could hurt you and take pleasure in it. Her green visage did nothing to add enthusiasm, but they hated her well before they knew what she looked like. They had known about this disgraceful Munchkinland girl since she captured their son's attention at Shiz University. They breathed a sigh of relief the day news broke of her engagement to Steiner Tourlock. One can understand their shock when they were told that not only had her husband passed on in a mysterious fire that engulfed her entire home, but she was engaged to their son the very same morning as Steiner's death.

When they saw their son again, his nose was crooked and he was using a cane to get around on his still healing legs. Steiner's end had been violent, and left lasting damage on both Fiyero and Elphaba's bodies and psyches.

"Upheaval" was the main word thrown at them. "Disgrace" was another. "Witch" was her least favorite one, though they never said that one out loud. She had to hear it from the shadows.

Elphaba felt deju vu, being led through the halls by her niece, aiming for the dining hall where her extended family supposedly lay in wait. She remembered being presented to the king for the first time all those years ago, fresh out of the carriage, her skirts wrinkled and her hair falling out of place. She looked a mess and felt a mess.

"You've turned the kingdom upside down for this?" The king had said that first, eyeing Elphaba from top to toe as she stood there dumbly, waiting to be invited to join him at the breakfast table. He looked at her like he had been presented with a basket of rotting vegetables at the market, "For such an ugly little thing."

She tried to remind herself that the old, cruel man was gone now. This was, allegedly, her castle now. She tried to walk like a queen, chin up and a brave stone face. If she was good at one thing, it was confidence for the sake of spite.

The doors of the dining hall were opened for them, they were announced as the Crown Prince and Princess, Imminent King and Queen. "And the spare." Farah quipped, noting that she herself was not announced. Why would she? She had no title in this household.

The Tiggular family sat in wait, though they stood up from their chairs to greet them properly. Elphaba was shocked to see them follow the custom, she didnt think they would get that much acknowledgement. Fiyero's nephews, Manek and Little Nor (who had been named after his father) were looking stoic, like their father had primed them to look. They were close in age, Manek turning 16 in a few months, and Little Nor closely behind at 14 years. Queen Baxiana did not stand, she didnt have to. She barely looked up from her morning cup of mint tea, her face shrouded by her mourning veil. Fiyero's brother, Nor, was not present but his wife was. And she looked tart as ever, especially when she saw her daughter accompanying the guests.

"Welcome." Sarima said, but offered no more, "Farah, to me."

Farah sheepishly wandered over to her mother and stood at her chair.

Elphaba lamented Sarima's continued existence in their life. Her family had been livid with Fiyero's behavior, shirking their daughter and their engagement in a foreign land and sending her back home weeping. A hasty compromise was reached and Fiyero's brother had been offered up in his place to appease the tide of anger. Not quite the position they had hoped for their daughter, married to the spare; the arrangement stung for everyone. Especially Nor, who had been surprised to find himself in such a position. His father praised him, though, for rising to the occasion and doing what his brother could not. That sense of grandeur seemed to change Nor for the worse, and quite quickly.

Fiyero stood dumbly still while Elphaba nudged him to remind him; they were waiting for him.

He looked like a fowl learning to walk for the first time, "You may be seated."

Elphaba snickered softly, Fiyero had no authoritarian bone in his body. He looked at her and smiled too, he hated this sort of ritual. Royal life was full of these little nuances, he knew he could never keep track.

The table was seated, though the king's space was left empty. Baxiana remained in the queen's chair. Elphaba and Fiyero took their places at the end of the table, they would wait till coronation to fill his father's space. Elphaba had reminded Fiyero of that mourning ritual as the carriage journeyed from their home, she was anxious so she had been pouring over old Vinkun law and custom books to keep herself busy. Thank Oz for his wife, and he thought how well suited she was for a kingly position. Far better suited than him.

The table was quiet. Sarima had trained her children to be icy towards their kin, especially after watching Farah grow close to them. Manek and Little Nor had never heard a kind word of their uncle or aunt leave their parents' lips, and they had never been afforded the summer trips Farah had.

Queen Baxiana spoke, "Your journey was not too harsh, I hope." She was always a bit softer than her husband, still distant, but softer.

Elphaba spoke when she turned to her husband and saw him grow overwhelmed. He was staring at his father's empty seat, his eyes glassy. "No, it was fine. Thank you for asking." Her eyes met her mother-in-laws and she saw some semblance of kindness in them. It compelled her to add, "I am sorry for the loss of our king, my queen."

Baxiana nodded softly and spoke no more.

Elphaba's hand moved to find her husband's, she intertwined her fingers into his and gave a supportive squeeze. Sarima continued to eye them curtly.

"Where is my brother?" Fiyero asked after managing to find some semblance of control over his emotions, but Elphaba could feel his leg shaking under the table.

Sarima, for a moment, looked distraught. She quickly swept it away from her face and assumed her off-handed air, "Busy. He has been quite busy since his father passed, there is much to do to run a kingdom."

Farah remembered where she left her father, drunk and sleeping in his armchair and knew that was a lie. She didn't say anything though, just chewed on the spiced plum she had plucked from the pile of food on the table.

"Of course." Fiyero did his best to respond politely, Sarima's choice of vocabulary was not lost on him. He remembered the way she used to pretend to be daft in the beginning of their engagement. He knew, even for all his dumbness back then, that she was hiding herself to suit him. Or to suit what she thought he wanted. He wondered if he'd have ever seen this cruel and calculated side of her had they gotten married.

A glass shattered in the hallway. The doors had been closed behind Fiyero and Elphaba, but they could hear the glass. Elphaba jolted in her seat at the sound, dregs of her past coming back to haunt her for the briefest second. Fiyero recognized it, he'd always hate Steiner for the ways he used to hurt her. No matter how many years went by, she couldn't quite shake his ghost.

Everyone turned to look at the door. The servant manning the door was hastily trying to announce the entrance of Prince Nor, Second in Line, but could not get through the procession properly before Nor pushed his way into the dining room. Farah stood up and excused herself, so did her brothers. They were familiar with this. She ushered the boys out of the room, and they were eager to take her lead. She loved her brothers, even when she could see shadows of her parents in them. She pushed them through the side door, turning to close it behind her and giving her aunt a final, pained look on her way out. Elphaba noted it, suddenly horrified as she realized this was not a new occurrence for the children. Their father did not notice them leave.

"The Kind of Fools has arrived to destroy the Vinkus!" He cried out, stumbling in his drunkenness towards the table. Fiyero stood up to meet his eyes. Elphaba stood too, moving herself back and away from the calamity. She turned to note Baxiana's reaction, the old woman simply returned to staring into her teacup. Sarima was looking up, though, completely honed in on her husband like a hawk.

"Nor, dont make an ass of yourself." Fiyero warned, watching his brother lunge for the empty chair next to their mother. He gripped the back of his father's seat with importance, like he could feel the man still sitting there. Fiyero looked at Nor like he was a stranger.

"There is an ass in this room and it isn't me." Nor hissed, eyeing Elphaba for a brief moment but not acknowledging her. She returned his glare. Nor wavered like he was about to sit in his father's seat, one of the biggest faux pas a Vinken royal could make while mourning a lost monarch, Elphaba noted to herself. His wife did her best to guide him to the next chair over, the one next to her. He sat with aplomb only a drunk could possess and reached out for some bread.

"I think I fancy a walk in the garden." Baxiana said suddenly, her calm tone quite the juxtaposition to the chaos that just entered. She creaked to her feet, denying Nor's clumsy attempt to help her stand. They all watched her go, she had quieted the room like a master of ceremony could, even Nor was silent as she made her exit. The grand doors were opened, then closed behind her, locking in the constituents of the breakfast table with each other. Quite the party, everyone seems eager to abandon it, Elphaba quipped to herself.

Her heart was beating hard in her chest and she tried to remind herself that Nor was not Steiner. She saw too many similarities to her long-deceased husband in his mannerisms, his drinking, and it made her anxious; it made her scared, she hated it. And she wished he would stop looking at her like that. He had always loathed her, but there was more to his hatred than that. To her, though she never spoke of it, it seemed like he was a monster waiting to carve her open with its claws. She thought it would be an opportune time to excuse themselves as well, leave Sarima and Nor to whatever bitter fate the day held in store for them.

Nor was tearing at the sourdough loaf, dipping whole chunks into the butter plate nearest him, "You missed the funeral."

Fiyero didn't sit down, "I know."

"Are you sorry?" Nor looked up at his brother, his eyes sunken and tired like he hadn't slept.

Fiyero huffed at that, "I made my opinion on that very clear."

He had. There was quite a bit of furious correspondence between brothers when their father grew irreparably ill. Fiyero had been upfront that he did not wish to see his father, alive or otherwise. Nor huffed just like his brother huffed, chewing his breakfast like a cow chewed grass, slightly slack jawed. His eyes rolled, he didn't find the answer satisfying in the least bit.

Elphaba moved to touch Fiyero on the arm, "I think it's best if we retire." She offered an end to the conflict, she had observed plenty and it wouldn't end well if they stayed.

"She speaks!" Nor's voice shattered what tentative peace there had been, and began laughing, "What horrors have you brought to my home this time, Wicked Witch?"

Elphaba was struck silent by the forwardness of his foul greeting. She knew those were the words her husband's family held for her but they'd had the good grace to keep it mostly under their breath. Fiyero, however, was struck with fury.

"Nor, apologize to my wife." He said, through gritted teeth. His hands were forming fists.

Nor continued to address Elphaba, Sarima simply watched, "How long does the spell last? The one you placed on Fiyero. I have a bet with my father, you see," he gestured to the empty chair, "He says it was a one time enchantment, I say it's a love potion that you have to keep brewing every few years to keep him trapped."

"You absolute ass!" Fiyero cried out, throwing himself across the table and gripping his brother's shirt. He drew Nor across the table, knocking over the spreads of food as they tousled. Nor fought back, and the brothers were soon a slurry of fists on faces.

"Fiyero!" "Nor!" Elphaba and Sarima harmonized their horror and shouted to their husbands. Elphaba reached for Fiyero's arms immediately to try and pull him back, Sarima did what she could. Elphaba yanked Fiyero off of Nor, he released his grip and his brother was sent back in a drunken stupor. He couldn't stop himself from crashing into the chair, which subsequently crashed to the floor. Sarima flung herself back to avoid it all.

"Take that back, you miserable drunk!" Fiyero continued to fuel the fire as Nor groggily got to his feet, "You are speaking to the Queen of the Vinkus."

Nor fired back, his back straightening like a flagpole "She is not my Queen. You are not my King." He pointed at Elphaba, "No one, not one person in the whole of the Vinkus, wants this freakish woman as their queen. They all say she's a bad omen."

Sarima was trying to push her husband from the room now.

"They dont want you either, Fiyero. You're not an omen, you're just an idiot."

Elphaba and Fiyero gazed at him in horror. They hadn't seen much of Nor in the past few years, Fiyero noted that their relationship grew dramatically distant once Nor and Sarima had been married. They had never been privy to this open contempt, this drunken stupor. With his final huff of anger, the word "idiot", Nor collapsed into his wife's arms. She was able to guide him to the nearest chair as he fell, his eyes closing.

"I have a headache." He said, pathetically.

Elphaba looked to Sarima, would she correct her husband's horrid allegations? But Sarima only looked at Elphaba like she thought the commotion was her fault, dipping a linen napkin into Farah's abandoned glass of water and patting the sweat from Nor's brow with it.

"Why don't the two of you retire till the afternoon?" She said calmly, but bitterly, "Fiyero, your old chambers have been prepared for you."

Sarima spoke like there hadn't been a fistfight over the hardboiled eggs only a moment ago. Elphaba expected Fiyero to continue the fight, hardheaded as he was, but he took her hand and pulled her from the room. He was wordless, pulling her through the side door the children had disappeared into, into the inner workings of the castle he knew very well. Elphaba couldn't see his face, and did not till they had walked a sufficient distance from the dining hall. His hands shot up into his hairline and he pressed on his skull with his fingers, she noticed him begin to shake and several sobs finally released from his chest. He gulped for air, weeping openly now that they were safely distanced from Sarima and Nor.

Elphaba caught her husband in her arms the same way he had caught her so many times before. He crumbled into her, his face pressed into her neck and gripping her tightly. She closed her eyes and cradled his head with one hand, his waist with another. Her fingers gently scratched the back of his neck, offering any comfort she could while he cried.

"He wasn't in his chair." He said, mournfully, "I didnt feel anything for him until I saw that his chair was empty. And then Nor…"

He didn't have to continue. His wife never needed explanation, but she always offered comfort. She had a reputation for being prickly but she was capable of depth and tenderness for those she deemed worthy. And he was worthy to her. He found new anger, and new sadness as Nor's words for her washed over him again. Had he been worthy of Elphaba's good graces, he'd have fallen in love with her too. Had his father given her the time of day he'd have been charmed by her scholarly wit. Had they bothered to know her, they would understand why, for Fiyero, there was no one else in the whole of the world better suited for him.

"How do you feel?" She whispered after some time had passed, and his sobs had soothed.

"I feel like I'm back in my prison." He admitted.

That's why she hated Kiamo Ko, she reminded herself. For all its academic curiosities, all of its architectural marvel, its beauty, the gardens, the spring water, the food; above all of that grandeur, it was simply a prison to Fiyero Tiggular.

They had come home to a haunted house, filled to the brim with family ghosts.

She began to worry that they wouldn't survive it.