Chapter Text
Fiyero swore internally as the leg of his pants snagged on yet another tree root. Almost two years in this profession, and he'd still never quite gotten used to traipsing around in the forest. He was well aware that he and his men were far from stealthy. One could probably hear them crashing through the undergrowth from miles away. It wasn't really a wonder that they had not yet succeeded in capturing the Wicked Witch of the West.
It was the fifth day of their search, and Fiyero was already growing tired of the monotonous marching through the mid-afternoon. They’d started their sweep in a wide arc to the west of the area of suspicious activity and were slowly making their way towards the site of the most recent Witch sighting. They would spend the next few days camping nearby, on the lookout for anything unusual, before marching back to the Emerald City from the east. It was a routine operation and identical to many that Fiyero had taken part in before, down to the uncomfortable nights spent camping and the bland Gale Force rations.
Fiyero halted and held up a hand for his men to do the same as the group neared a large clearing. There had been rumors of subversive Animal activity in the area, which usually meant that the Witch was involved in some capacity. When she wasn’t flying about terrorizing innocent Ozians, she was stirring up trouble and rebellion among the Animals. Fiyero had spent very little time in the company of Animals himself over the past few years, due in no small part to their waning numbers under the Wizard’s Animal bans, but he’d certainly heard enough about them. He knew that they were savage beasts, who believed that their farcical imitations of human speech could be mistaken for true intelligence. They wanted to tear down the peaceful Oz the Wizard had built and create a land of anarchy and chaos in its place. They were a dangerous group whose activity needed to be quelled, but the efforts of the Wicked Witch had steeply increased the difficulty of that endeavor. Once the Witch was captured, subduing the Animals would become a much easier task.
Fiyero squatted on his haunches to give his tired legs a break and scanned the field before him for anything out of the ordinary. His guards stood stock still behind him, rifles cocked and at the ready. Once he was satisfied that nothing was amiss, he stood and motioned for his men to follow. He tried to tell himself that the slight tremor in his legs was just the aftereffects of fatigue as he took a few tentative steps forward.
Fiyero jumped as something shot out of a bush mere feet away from him and took off running. One of the guards fired at it in surprise, but the bullet flew wide and sailed into the distance as the small creature disappeared from their line of sight. The guard who had fired was cowed by the livid glare Fiyero shot in his direction as the sound of the gunshot faded. Every man in the clearing stood stock still, waiting with bated breath to see if the commotion had given away their position. Fiyero wasn't sure if the creature that had fled was an Animal or an animal, but it had appeared to be some sort of wild cat cub. Such beasts were common in this forest, but if it was an Animal, it could mean that the Witch was nearby.
They stood for several moments, poised to spring into action, but there was no further movement in the quiet clearing. Slowly and tentatively, the men lowered their guns and looked to Fiyero for instruction. He was about to issue the order to continue onward, but he snapped his mouth shut as a feeling of unease settled over him. He slowly became aware of an unnatural stillness in the air, coupled with a near complete absence of sound. It felt like the world was holding its breath around them. As though alerted by instinct, Fiyero glanced back over his shoulder, and that was when he saw it. Just beyond the bit of underbrush the cub had emerged from, a streak of green and black appeared for the briefest moment before disappearing into the trees along the right of the clearing.
Fiyero froze, as did a few other guards who had witnessed the disturbance. The men who hadn't seen were darting their heads around wildly, trying to figure out what they'd missed.
Heart pounding in his chest, Fiyero realized that for once they might actually be hot on the trail of the Wicked Witch of the West. It took him a couple of seconds to find his voice but, realizing he had no choice but to give chase, he finally opened his mouth and shouted, "She's headed north, let's move!"
With only the briefest of confused pauses, the guards charged into action. By now they'd lost sight of the Witch, but they kept on in the same direction until they reached another clearing. This one was much larger than the last and was characterized by a system of caves and a small lake a short distance away. Fiyero briefly wondered why the Witch would have fled towards water.
Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the task at hand. There were quite a few caves along the side of the clearing, though many were obviously too small to be inhabited by a human being. The sweep would be quicker if he split the men into groups and had them comb the area. He wasn’t convinced that they would find the location of the Witch’s lair here. It was far too obvious and out in the open. Surely she would choose a more inconspicuous hiding place.
Turning back to his men, he gave them his orders. "Split into groups of five and search the caves," he said, waiting for the men to separate before he continued. He motioned to the group closest to him and said, "You five come with me. Everyone else stay nearby and yell if you find anything."
The guards nodded obediently and marched off in different directions, rifles held at the ready. The group that Fiyero had selected moved towards him, and he motioned for them to follow.
Fiyero took a deep breath, feeling suddenly apprehensive as he stood at the mouth of the cave. He motioned for the others to stop as he peered into the darkness. His men were looking at him expectantly, so he shoved down the lump in his throat and said, "Wait here. I'll go in first and check it out."
The others nodded, muscles tensed in anticipation, as he reluctantly stepped forward into the blackness. He waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust, before slowly moving even further in.
The cave was even larger from the inside, and it seemed to extend back endlessly into pitch black darkness. Biting the inside of his lip, Fiyero pulled out his pistol and held it at the ready. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but the weight of it in his hand brought him a small sense of comfort.
He continued on for about fifteen feet or so. Apparently the men outside had lost sight of him, as Fiyero heard a tentative, "Sir?"
"Right here," he responded absentmindedly. He was about to give the men the okay to enter, when something caught his eye. Was it his imagination, or had he seen the end of a piece of black fabric disappear around the corner? Completely forgetting the men behind him, he began to move forward instinctively. Now he could see a strange light coming from just around the nearest bend.
The guards called after him again, but he ignored them this time. He hastened his steps, completely terrified but also somehow exhilarated. His mind wasn't working anymore. His heart was pounding in his ears.
It seemed the other guards had grown worried, and Fiyero could now hear their heavy boots clapping against the damp floor of the cave as they continued to call out for him. He paid them no heed as he turned the corner and was temporarily blinded by a sudden, dazzling light.
What happened next occurred so quickly that Fiyero didn't have time to process it. Two arms shot out and grabbed him, and Fiyero started to cry out in alarm before a hand clamped down over his mouth. Upon hearing his shout, the other guards hastened their footsteps, and their cries became more frantic as they realized their captain was in trouble.
Fiyero struggled in his captor's grasp, but the grip was surprisingly strong. He tensed as a female voice began to chant softly from behind him, and his struggle to escape became more urgent as he realized who it was that held him in a headlock. With a loud groan, a large stone began to roll into place, blocking off the entrance to the tunnel in which Fiyero and his captor were standing. Fiyero tried to call out again, but his voice was muffled by the green hand still covering his mouth.
The Witch kept him there for several minutes, and he could hear the muffled footsteps of his men from the other side of the stone. He prayed to the Unnamed God that they had seen the large stone close off the passage, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they hadn't, for he could hear no attempts being made to move it.
After a few minutes the guards seemed to give up their search, and he could hear them rush from the cave, calling to the others for help. Fiyero listened to their footsteps fade, the last of his hope fading with them.
As the guards retreated, the hand covering Fiyero’s mouth was finally removed. He considered continuing to shout for help, but the effort seemed futile now that his men had gone. Before he could protest, he was shoved from behind into what he now realized was a small living area, his traitorous legs trembling beneath him. The light he'd seen earlier appeared to be coming from a strange glowing orb across the room, which Fiyero assumed had been conjured by magic.
There was no furniture, but a few large rocks apparently served as a table and chairs. Spread across the floor was a carpet fashioned from some type of leaves, which potentially also served as a makeshift bed. A few ratty books stood in a pile in the corner, and an old broomstick leaned against the far wall. A large, leather book lay open on the stone table, though Fiyero could not see what was written on its pages. On the right side of the cave there was a hole in the wall, which seemed to lead to another room.
His heart pounded as he was led into the small space, hands still held firmly behind his back. It seemed he’d finally found the hiding place of the Wicked Witch of the West, but he'd been taken there as her prisoner.
Fiyero tried not to whimper as he was thrown roughly to the floor, but he let out a pained wheeze as the wind was knocked out of him. Instinctively, he curled into a ball like a child expecting to be struck, but the Witch appeared to be ignoring him as she swept past into the small room. After a few moments he lowered his hands away from his face, wondering why he'd not yet been blown up, or disintegrated, or whatever method the Witch used for disposing of her prisoners.
She was across the room now, hanging her cloak on a rusty hook that looked as though it had been clumsily hammered into the wall. Her back was to him, and Fiyero realized that he had not yet seen her face. From here, all he could make out was that she was wearing a tattered black dress and a pointed black hat. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, keeping a close eye on her lest she suddenly turn and strike.
For a moment, Fiyero's eyes darted toward the huge stone that blocked his only escape. He wondered if his men were still out in the cave searching, or if they'd already given up. He examined the stone, wondering halfheartedly if he'd be able to move it himself. He realized with a sinking feeling that it didn't seem likely.
When the Witch was finished putting her things away, she finally whipped around to face Fiyero, causing him to jump and scramble backwards on his palms. He hated that he was acting like a frightened child, but by this point his instincts of self-preservation had taken over. The Witch towered over him from his spot on the floor, and Fiyero registered through his panic that she was indeed as frightening as everyone made her out to be.
Though he failed to stop himself from trembling, Fiyero composed himself enough to ask, "Why did you bring me here?"
He tried to keep his gaze steady, but his mask of bravado slipped the moment the Witch let out a loud cackle. The sound was so bone-chilling that Fiyero completely forgot he'd asked a question and backed up against the wall.
"Why did I bring you here?" she asked, taking a step forward. Her voice was shrill, and it sent a shiver down Fiyero's spine. Her eyes were blazing, and the fact that she was still towering over him did nothing to quell Fiyero's fear. "As I recall, you were the one pursuing me! Well congratulations, you've found my hiding place. And since you so graciously shouted for your guards, I had no choice but to pull you in here before either of us was seen."
Fiyero gulped, "W-what are you going to do with me?"
She took another step toward him, and Fiyero scrambled further up against the wall. He was terrified to let even the hem of the woman's cloak touch him, as though he would spontaneously combust upon contact. There was an excruciatingly long pause before the Witch responded. "Well, I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're worried about. But I'm certainly not going to allow you to leave,” she said, her tone icy and menacing.
Fiyero ignored the fact that his voice was now quivering and asked, "Well, if you're not going to kill me, then what's the point of keeping me here?"
"And what will you do if I release you? You'll run back to your precious Wizard, gather your troops and be marching back here by sunup. This spot is quite convenient for me right now, and I’m not keen on the idea of having to move. I see no other option but to keep you here," she practically growled as she spoke. Fiyero found himself wishing he'd suddenly wake up in his bed in a cold sweat.
"Y-you can't do this. I'm the captain of the Wizard's guard. My men will-"
The Witch cut him off, "Your men will what? No one can hear anything that goes on in here from the outside, and no one knows this passage exists. There's no way for you to move that boulder by yourself, and I am most certainly not going to be moving it for you. I'd make myself comfortable Captain, because you're not going anywhere for a long time."
With that, the Witch wheeled around, her billowing cloak almost whipping a stunned Fiyero across the face. He had nothing to say to that. She was right. He'd been hunting the Witch for two years now, and he'd always been aware of the possibility that he’d actually find her. He’d never considered his own capture and imprisonment as a potential aspect of that scenario. Now that these circumstances had presented themselves, he really wished he had the presence of mind to do more than cower on the floor at the Witch's feet.
Fiyero kept his eyes trained on her as she crossed the room, not allowing himself to relax even slightly from his position up against the wall. Her back was to him again, and Fiyero was struck by a brilliant idea. His hand flew down to his belt in search of his pistol, but his heart sank back into his stomach as he realized it was missing. He must have dropped it out in the cavern when the Witch had pulled him inside.
Fiyero froze again as the Witch began to chant, her eyes rushing across a page of the strange book he'd noticed earlier. He couldn't understand the words she was saying, but he had enough presence of mind to realize that she was casting some sort of spell. Before Fiyero could make any move to protect himself, he felt a strong wave of energy overpower his body.
Fiyero made to move away, but his limbs would no longer obey him. He cast a glance over to the Witch and saw her moving her arms in a sort of twirling motion, her eyes still trained on the pages of the old book as she continued to chant. After a moment, Fiyero felt a strange tugging on his legs, and his body began moving forward of its own accord. He struggled against the force, but it was no use. He could only stare ahead, powerless to stop himself, as his body moved itself into a separate room of the cave.
The Witch followed behind, still chanting even as she finally tore her gaze from what Fiyero had by now realized was her spell book. She reached the end of the spell and the chanting stopped, but Fiyero remained powerless to move his own body. He assumed that she'd paralyzed him temporarily, though there was no real need for it. Fiyero was in such a stupefied state that he wouldn’t have been able move of his own accord even had he possessed the ability.
The Witch spoke again, her dark eyes boring into Fiyero's blue ones, "This is where you will stay as long as you are my prisoner. Whenever I am out, I will roll away the boulder that blocks this room and you will be free to move around the cavern as you like. You are to report back here the moment I return. You will stay here and be given two meals a day. Other than that, we will have no interaction, and for that you should be grateful. Good night to you, Captain."
With that, the Witch waved her wrist, and a large boulder immediately slid into place. It blocked off the entrance to Fiyero's new cell as effectively as the other had blocked the Witch's hiding place. As the entrance was sealed, Fiyero felt the spell lift from his body. Too stunned to support his weight, he collapsed into a crumpled heap like a puppet with its strings cut. He didn't bother to feel ashamed as he felt a few stray tears roll down his cheeks.
Fleetingly, he thought of his home back at the Emerald Palace, and what he would give to be there at this very moment. He wondered when word of his disappearance would reach the Emerald City, and what measures would be taken to ensure his safe return. Not that it made any real difference. He had a feeling that as long as the Witch wished for him to remain hidden, he wouldn’t be found.
As he curled into the fetal position, it occurred to Fiyero that there was something odd about this situation. Why was the Witch keeping him alive? Certainly that was far more work than disposing of him quickly. Why would she go through the trouble? Was she planning to use him for ransom to get to the Wizard, or was she merely toying with him before inevitably killing him off? Shuddering, Fiyero pulled his knees to his chest and tried not to give in to despair. He knew that whatever the future held in store for him, it would likely not be a pleasant experience.
He stayed like that well into the night, too afraid to close his eyes for fear that the Witch would murder him in his sleep. What he did not see and could not know, however, was that as soon as the boulder had blocked him from view, the Wicked Witch of the West had sunk to her knees, buried her face in her hands, and cried.