Disclaimer: Wicked is the creation of people far more talented than I. I'm just waiting for the movie and praying they don't screw it up.

AN. This fic is inspired by the Daphne Du Maurier novel Rebecca. Other research tools for this fanfiction include the 1940 Hitchcock movie Rebecca, the 1997 TV miniseries Rebecca and Downton Abbey.

This is my 40th Wicked fanfiction, much to my faint disbelief. I hope you enjoy it!

The Ghost of Kiamo Ko

By Vinkunwildflowerqueen

Prologue

Last night I dreamt I went to Kiamo Ko again.

It felt so real, I could have sworn I was standing at the iron gates that enclosed the estate. I suppose it's ironic that I felt freer in a confined space- even as large as the house and grounds were- than I ever had living in open farmland.

Hunted, fearful and inferior, yes; completely out of place and out of my depth, yes; but never trapped. Caged. Imprisoned.

But however real it felt, I knew it was a dream. It had to be. Because we can't ever go back.

There's a theory that our dreams are a way of letting our brain gain control over emotions resulting from distressing experiences. Another theory is that they are our subconscious seeking to fulfill the wishes of our mind, even the ones we are not aware of. They also say that nightmares are our minds re-experiencing stressful events, or stem from an unresolved issue.

Honestly, I'm not sure which this is, dream or nightmare. Or that I can any longer tell the difference between the two. However, my dreams are sometimes neither dream nor nightmare. Sometimes they are simply there, and maybe not dreams at all, but reality. Not like a prophecy, I'm not seeing the future; more that I am simply seeing how things are. Maybe in some form, through some magic, I am actually at Kiamo Ko. I can never be sure, and probably will never know.

As I stood there in my dream, staring through the gates, they suddenly swung open at my touch. And then I was walking up the long drive towards the house.

It was strange, seeing things so different to how they were in my memory, yet still with an eerie sense of familiarity. It was still the place I remember, but not. It had grown older, darker, more haunted. But then I think, maybe it's me that's changed. I too, am older and wiser. But I am less haunted. In some ways. More so in other ways.

The wilderness of the Vinkus had begun to claim back the land. The trees that line the drive were more overhanging, some of their branches dipped as though an attempt to stop intruders, but I- or my dream self- simply passed by unperturbed.

It looked spookier, more like the images of a haunted wood you find in children's fables. The air was heavier, and the silence thicker. But I was not uneasy, it did not scare me. Not like the first time I came up this drive, when it was still pristine. What feels like another lifetime ago.

The drive is only half a mile long, although it always felt much longer. But it was barely a moment in my dream before Kiamo Ko itself came into view. Or what was left of it.

It was not how we had last seen it. The part of the east wing that had collapsed was rebuilt, the shattered windows no longer broken. The gardens were as wild as the drive had been, vines of ivy had climbed the walls and forced their way inside, sneaking under windows and between the stone bricks that formed the walls. Wild roses had claimed the garden, and it made me wonder about the Happy Valley and how time had affected a place where it's greatest beauty was its wilderness.

I can almost smell the nearby Vinkun River as though I was actually standing on the part of the grounds that overlooked the shore. The gardens were on the opposite side of the grounds, formerly masterpieces of roses and lilies. I suspected if I was to find myself there now, they would be as overgrown and overrun as the rest of the thought made me sad, I'd always loved the gardens. It was the one place of Kiamo Ko I hadn't felt... shadowed. Or like I was following in the footsteps of another woman.

I found myself walking through the shell of the house, and as I walked, time seemed to reverse and the halls and grand rooms appeared how they used to be. Life returned to the house before my eyes.

Kiamo Ko had often felt alive to me, although I was never sure if it was the house that felt alive or the shadow of Her.

It might seem strange that we so rarely speak the name of the woman who defined both our lives for so long- although in different ways. But there is finally only the two of us in our marriage; and both of us feel happier, lighter and are in no rush to bring back that barrier that used to be between us.

We have no secrets now, every thought and feeling is shared. And whilst that hasn't been easy to do, to break one habit and form another; we know that we are better people, partners and parents for it.

When I returned to reality from my subconscious journey to Kiamo Ko, waking up to find sunlight streaming through the window and him sleeping beside me peacefully; I am almost surprised to find myself back in our new life, that this is not the dream.

I always wanted to live in the Emerald City, but this wasn't quite how I pictured it. We have an apartment in the outskirts of the City, a beautiful yet modest three bedroom place where I don't feel the need to tiptoe around; that I do not hesitate to make my own. It feels like ours, and I love it because it is ours. And only ours.

We live a quiet life, more the life I am used to, which also helps me to be more confident in myself. Gone are the servants, the high society and the scrutiny of the public and the press. Here, we blend in. I suppose for me, that's literal.

But we attract little attention here. We're in a different part of the city and rarely frequent the neighbourhoods where we run the chance of meeting someone who knows him. Which means our daughter gets to have a normal life. Well, as normal as you can have when your mother is green.

Being back in the city brings back so many memories of the first time I was here, the girl I used to be. Sometimes, I can't believe it was only two years ago.

We often joke that we live like fugitives. Not making a fuss, keeping to ourselves. And maybe we are- trying to outrun the shadows of our past, the mistakes we made, the way things used to be. I think we're both afraid of our old fears returning, of becoming those people again.

We do have some small comforts of our old life though. Chistery, for one, is as loyal a pet as ever. And Avaric, Galinda and Boq are still dear friends and frequent visitors. But sometimes we need it to be just the three of us, because the talk of the Vinkus and the past just gets to be too much.

I know he misses the Vinkus, it was his home after all. He'll often talk with wistfulness of the mountains, the grasslands, the river. But he never suggests we go back. He knows we can't. Too much has changed. Kiamo Ko is gone.

AN. I had to use the opening line. It's iconic.