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Chapter Text

Glinda wasn't quite sure about the mechanics of the bubble. There weren't steering wheels or visible knobs or throttles to use for direction control; it just went where she willed it to go. There were no engines — that she could see — to help it lift off into the air. The only button was the one she stepped on to make the bubble appear. The entire thing seemed to operate on a directional spell, on magic. Just not Glinda's magic. Morrible's was the logical conclusion.

The thought made Glinda laugh. She could imagine the look on the Madame's face when the Wizard first approached her with the idea of the bubble, when he asked her to assist in the creation. She'd rolled her eyes when Glinda had shrieked at the sight of it, had likely lamented — again — that her once prized pupil had rather throw herself from the top of a tower than choose to work with her and further the Wizard's agenda.

But, Glinda digressed. The point was the bubble worked. There was nothing the crowds of Oz loved more than the sight of their Good Witch, coming down from the clouds with her crown and her dress and her sparkling wand, standing in the middle of this frivolous contraption, encased by the shiny sheen of a bubble — as she was doing right now.

It was all part of the narrative the palace spun. For every piece of iconography Elphaba was associated with, Glinda had a counterbalance. The broom and the bubble, the wand and the Grimmerie, the crown and the hat.

As the bubble landed on the podium constructed in the middle of the main square in Nest Hardings, Glinda was faced with a towering banner unfurling on the side of a building, a banner construing Elphaba's likeness into something villainous, her eyes yellow and her nails like talons, that beautiful emerald of her skin made to feel like a sin, a warning of BEWARE THE WICKED WITCH splashed across the bottom in a dark green.

It was one of many banners around Oz.

Glinda wanted to light every single one on fire. She would enjoy lighting them on fire. Whoever Morrible had drawing these propaganda posters had clearly never seen Elphaba a day in their lives.

Fiyero stepped a foot on the bubble platform, extending a gloved hand out to her, dressed in his emerald and gold captain's finery with a showman's grin on his face. This was the first time she was seeing him in weeks, after he abandoned her on a stage somewhere else in Munchkinland, angered by the crowd's heated words about Elphie. He'd been somewhere in forests bordering Vinkus and the Emerald City, chasing his tail trying to find Elphaba. Based on the tension in his shoulders, the stiff corners of his grin, he hadn't had any luck.

There was a small, very small — miniscule even — petty part of Glinda who enjoyed knowing he failed, who revelled in the knowledge that, if she wanted to, she could find Elphaba easily, that a simple flick of a magicked quill could bring Elphie to her balcony, to her arms.

That long ago day with the Lion cub was old news now but, still, she wondered. How different would life be if she were awake? How different would life be if she had chased the Third Thropp Descending instead of the Prince of the Arjiki Tribe? How different would life be had she aspired for Lady of Colwen Grounds instead of Princess of Vinkus?

When she accepted his hand, a cheer went up from the crowd. Glinda forced the smile on her face to sparkle. She pressed her palm against Fiyero's chest for a lingering moment, smoothing out the sash slung across his body, letting the engagement ring catch the sunlight. It was all a practised dance between them by now.

She turned away from him with a pat over his heart, stepping to the microphone stand. Her eyes briefly flicked to Morrible, standing on the side, close enough to let Glinda know she was there, she was watching carefully, but not close enough to make the audience think anything of the Press Secretary's hawk eyes on their golden girl.

Glinda's smile widened. She toss-tossed her hair and spread her arms. "It's good to see me, isn't it?"

The crowd laughed, throwing their heads back and flashing their white teeth.

"My fellow Ozians," Glinda continued, reciting the speech from memory. "As terrifying as terror is, let us put aside our panic for today and celebrate!"

Using her wand, she gestured towards the audience, or more specifically, what they're standing upon, the yellow bricks curving into a spiral. There was only one empty spot, one missing brick, suspended right above the slot with a mechanism built to fit the blunt end of Glinda's wand, just waiting to be pushed into the earth.

"Our Wonderful Wizard's wonderful creation is on the verge of being finished!" Glinda trilled and the crowd applauded, whistles flying through the air. "And, he has allowed me the absolute honour of being the one to place the last brick."

"But," Glinda said, taking her time to make eye contact with various members of the crowd, taking her time to hold their attention. "Before I do, I'd like to take a moment to remember those who cannot be here to see the Yellow Brick Road in all its majesty." The air tensed, the smell of ozone on the breeze. Out of the corner of her eye, Glinda could see Morrible's fingers twitching. "Oz has been through much these last few years. So, please, take a moment, and remember those who aren't here, those we wish were here."

A hush settled over the audience as they dipped their heads. A clocktick and a half later, Glinda moved away from the microphone and walked over to the curving staircase. She passed by Morrible, who did not latch onto her elbow and scold her for going off script. Glinda was good at toeing the delicate line between what she could and could not say, even if Morrible was no fool and could see it clear as day.

As she stepped off the staircase, the Munchkinlanders cleared a path, calling out to her as she made for the brick.

"Good fortune, Your Goodness!"

"We love you Glinda!"

"You couldn't be lovelier, Your Goodness!"

"Congratulations on your engagement!"

Glinda kept her smile in place, demurred with shakes of her head, pressing her hand to her chest as the words washed over her. She placed the bottom of her wand into the slot and, with a flourish, pushed the brick into the earth, completing the road. The edges swirled with silver light, causing the entire road to light up for a clocktick.

She retook her place in front of the microphone. "What a celebration we've had today!"

"Thank goodness!" the crowd chorused.

"And what better way to commemorate this wondrous occasion than by celebrating the union of Oz's Good Witch, and her handsome swain!" Morrible crowed, her voice amplified by magic.

Glinda felt Fiyero's arm come around her waist as he placed himself at her side. She leaned into him, bringing her hand back to his chest. She willed her cheeks to flush, to play the part of the blushing bride.

"They are to be married in the Emerald Palace at week's end!" Morrible tossed her arms into the air, her billowing sleeves adding to the flair of her words. She turned to them, a smirk on her face, dipping her chin in a show of falsified respect. "Congratulations to you both, Captain Tigelaar, Your Goodness, and may Lurline shine her light upon your loving marriage."

Glinda's knuckles turned white around her wand. The audience couldn't hear the mocking, gloating drawl in Morrible's words, but Glinda could. The sorceress thoroughly enjoyed how she pulled this one over on them.

Before Glinda could contemplate swinging her wand at Morrible — she wouldn't (or, at least, not in such a public setting), but it was a fun thought exercise nonetheless — a scream tore through the crowd. Multiple hands shot skyward, pointing accusing fingers.

Glinda's neck twisted so fast she was nearly sure she broke it.

"The Witch!" someone screamed.

She felt the corners of her mouth tilt upward, felt butterflies swirling around in her stomach, her heart tripping over itself in her chest. There you are.

Elphaba burst through the clouds on her broom, cape snapping in the wind, carving letters into the condensed vapour until there was a message painted in the sky, unavoidable, unmistakable.

OUR WIZARD LIES.

Then, she was gone.

-<—>-

Elphaba loved her sister very much, in that sort of all consuming way you love someone you've known for what essentially amounts to your entire life. There's a part of Elphaba that was reserved for Nessa, and solely for Nessa. A part of her untouchable and unreachable by anyone else she knew and anyone she would ever know. Nessa was, in many, many ways, foundational to who Elphaba was as a person.

She would always remember holding her for the first time, delicately, gently, so afraid her magic would hurt her. Her nanny had lowered Nessa into her arms and arranged Elphaba's just so to support her head and her legs. She'd felt her chest crack into pieces then, felt Nessa's name stitching itself into a chamber of her heart.

But, that didn't negate the fact that she also, sometimes, wanted to strangle the breath right out of Nessa's lungs in that quite intricate, annoyed elder sister way.

"Secession?" Elphaba shouted as she entered the Eminent's office, having dropped into Colwen Grounds from the small sky door which had been installed a while ago. Nessa hadn't changed the study too much since officially taking over duties after their great-grandfather's passing. She'd only gotten rid of a hideous painting he had on the wall. The rest remained the same, from the tall bookshelves lined with thick volumes on Ozian and Munchkinlander law, to the heavy wooden desk, crafted from smooth dark redwoods.

"Tell me you're joking," Elphaba rattled off, talking fast enough to make Glinda proud. "Tell me you had one too many drinks and made a joke and it's been blown entirely out of proportion. Tell me this is a jest."

"A good day to you too, Fabala," Nessa greeted casually, sparing Elphaba a quick glance before looking back to the documents spread out on her desk. "And you know I don't drink."

"Nessarose," Elphaba said, taking a step forward. "Tell me Munchkinland is not seceding from Oz."

"Munchkinland is not seceding from Oz." Nessa dipped her quill in an ink pot and scribbled something on a piece of parchment. She placed the paper aside and pulled another in front of herself.

"Then why, Oz help me—" Elphaba pinched the bridge of her nose. Her stress points were tripling over the course of this one conversation. "Why do I keep hearing whispers that Munchkinland is?"

"I see the Resistance is in better shape than ever," Nessa said. "Your spy network actually seems functional. I heard about the defacing of the Wizard's symbols in Quadling Country, and the Vinkans raiding a Gale Force encampment. Great work."

"You're deflecting," Elphaba pointed out.

Not that anything she said wasn't true. The Resistance had surged in numbers over the last year, with many Animals returning from the Grasslands to fight, Quadlings and Vinkans rallying behind them. The last month had seen an increase in Munchkinlanders, as tensions between Colwen Grounds and the palace grew taunt.

Oz was waking up. Oz was fighting back.

"It's a whisper," Nessa said flippantly with a wave of her hand. Gods, she was spending too much time exchanging letters with Glinda. "It's nothing serious, necessarily. A simple thought exploration. A possibility."

"They are calling you the Wicked Witch of the East!" Elphaba was going to slam her own head into a wall.

Nessa snorted a delighted laugh. "How utterly unoriginal."

Elphaba closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled again. That god she didn't believe in needed to give her the patience to have this conversation without reaching forward and yanking on Nessa's hair like they were children again.

"Wasn't this discussed? At length?" Nessa asked. She shuffled around the papers on her desk, reached forward for her glass of water and took a sip. "The Gale Force garrison in the Dragon's Cupboard under the guise of rooting out so-called terrorists, the Eminent Thropp ordering them to leave, the Wizard raising taxes in retaliation at the beginning of the month, pressure placed on the palace by Colwen Grounds and he falls out of favour with Munchkinland the longer he refuses to reverse course. Glinda's plan seems to be going swimmingly."

"I'm not sure secession was what she meant by pressure," Elphaba muttered, but even she didn't entirely believe that. It did seem like a perfectly Glinda idea.

Yes, my dearest darlingest Elphie, secession, as in a formal withdrawal of membership from the larger union to create a separate territory. Because, as I've told you many times before and I'll tell you again because I do so love to hear myself talk, when Munchkinland, agriculture hub and Gillikinese money centre, threatens divorce from the unified nation of Oz, the businessmen get upset. When the businessmen get upset, they argue with the Wizard and threaten to pull their funding. If they pull their funding, then the Wizard becomes vulnerable, which is when you strike.

Sweet Oz, they were both having a lark at the expense of Elphaba's sanity.

"What does Boq have to say about this?" she asked, shaking Glinda's voice out of her head.

Nessarose and Boq broke up — somehow amicably — a long time ago, not too long after Elphaba reconciled with her sister. Since then, Boq had become something of an adviser around Colwen Grounds, joining the likes of that idiot Nip who was not so subtly gunning for the Eminence. As though he didn't lack the very basic qualification for it, i.e., being a Thropp.

"He's been in Wend Hardings for a couple weeks, but I did receive a strongly worded letter which could be summarized into, Nessa, what in Oz's name?" Nessa, having finished reviewing the paper stack, set her quill down beside its ink pot and finally looked up to meet her eyes.

Elphaba hadn't seen her sister in a while, too busy flying here, there and everywhere, too busy slamming her broom into the faces of the Gale Force and tearing through the ranks of their infantry, too busy breaking into underground prisons and freeing Animals, too busy passing information from her, quote, reliable source from the Emerald City, unquote, to the Resistance, information which included supply drops, schedules, building plans, locations for the current Gale Force encampments, etc.

The fight had become realer within the last eight to nine months. It was just over four years of this by now but, somehow, someway, they were finally gaining ground on the Wizard. Which meant Elphaba was hardly ever in one place for more than a day if she was lucky, distracting the Gale Force with a wild goose chase as the Resistance lit strategic fires across the regions.

She had missed her sister though, even if Nessa was infuriating her right now.

"I don't like it," Elphaba said. "What if he tries to kill you for this?"

"You don't have to like it," Nessa said. "And he's more than welcome to try."

Gods. Why did Elphaba surround herself with people willing to test the Wizard's patience? What was wrong with Nessa and Glinda that they deemed the Wizard nothing more than an inconvenience? One was a spy under his nose and the other was invoking the secession of a state in some ridiculous long game of chess. Neither of these were good for Elphaba, chronic worrier that she was.

Elphaba wasn't built for politics. She realized that somewhere in the middle of this coup. She didn't have the patience to play this game the way Glinda and Nessa did. Her solutions to her problems were the broom and the Grimmerie, not a dinner and a treaty negotiation with a planned schedule and predetermined talking points, everyone dressed to the nines in their sashes and suits and dresses.

"You're coming up on the finish line, Fabala," Nessarose said.

She knew that. The end was in sight. The air was seeded with victory, provided everything which came next fell into place perfectly.

"Be careful," Elphaba all but begged, walking back to the door. "Please, for the love of Oz. Be careful."

"Flying away already?" Nessa rolled out from behind the desk, taking a quick look at the clock on her office wall. "It's a couple hours until dawn. Why don't you stay and have breakfast? The staff isn't around."

"I have to get to the city," Elphaba informed her, holding the door open as they moved out together, heading towards the sky door.

Nessa tilted her head to look up at her, a touch of incredulity in her eyes. "For the wedding?"

Elphaba bristled. She had hoped to not be reminded of that but, Oz seemed hellbent on cooing about it. As the date for the nuptials drew closer, every city and town was draped in all manner of celebrations, from banners to posters to news articles and announcements over the radio.

The wedding was the talk of Oz.

Which, unfortunately, also had its upsides.

"I'm using it as cover," Elphaba explained, tapping her fingers against her broom once they came to a stop beneath the sky door. "I'm going to get the Monkeys out. They deserve to be free, not trapped inside those walls."

"You're a terrible liar, Fabala," her sister said. Nessa tilted her head to the side and a teasing grin stretched across her face. "You should object. Glinda might swoon."

She flushed a darker shade of green. Elphaba huffed, rolling her eyes. "Funny. Weren't you invited?"

"I was," Nessa confirmed. "And I declined. I told Glinda I would attend the next one."

"Next one?" Elphaba asked, confusion dripping from her tone.

"Yes. Yours, of course," Nessa said, deadpan.

"What?" Elphaba croaked. The idea alone was making her feel the slightest bit faint.

"Fly safe!" Nessa exclaimed and wheeled away, leaving those words to bounce around Elphaba's suddenly empty mind.

-<—>-

The first time Elphaba saw the Emerald City, she'd been enamoured. She'd heard of it her entire life, this grandiose jungle of spiralling towers made of green glass and streets lined with manor houses, filled with all manner of Ozian citizens, a capital brimming with life. A place where Elphaba could thrive, where she could exist without the stares, where she didn't stand out like a sore thumb.

That one short day she had spent with Glinda here was a dream come true, holding her hand as they rushed to and fro, ducking and weaving through the crowds, getting lost in the shops and the shows playing in the theatre pavilion. It had seemed, for one, single, perfect moment, that everything would work out. She'd meet the Wizard, he'd praise her talents and help the Animals and she'd return to her studies at Shiz, but she would be back.

Now, the city haunted her.

Funny how something so alive could feel like a ghost.

From the vantage point of the broom, the Emerald City wasn't dissimilar to the Wizard's model of Oz. It was built on a soft rise, the train tracks curving up to the entrance. Long, winding roads carved up the landscape, separating the city into its quadrants, small canals meandering below stone bridges, cobblestone streets illuminated by glowing lampposts, tall towers and luxurious houses, apartments and shops and market squares creating clusters of vibrancy, gardens with grand water fountains and little ponds, and, in the very centre, stood the beating heart of Oz itself, the Emerald Palace.

The closer she got to the palace, the more apparent the impending celebrations became. The green glass was adorned in embellishments of pink, floral arrangements clinging to towers as banners unfurled from the walls, streamers hung between lampposts. There were giant posters of Glinda hanging from various buildings and the courtyard walls. It was comical how Fiyero appeared to be absent from the decorations. If you told someone Glinda was marrying herself they would likely believe you.

With dawn just cresting the edges of the land, it was clear today would be a day of revelry.

Elphaba directed the broom to the western towers of the palace with ease, snaking up along the side of the main tower, keeping to the shadows. This flight was second nature to Elphaba by now, with how many times she'd been here, testing the limits of the guards' awareness.

Clearing the balustrade, Elphaba slung off the broom and grasped the staff in her hand, cape swishing in the air as she made for the door. There was light along the outline of the drawn curtains. She shook her head, knocking on the door. Of course Glinda would be up at sunrise on her wedding day.

There was shuffling from the other side of the glass, the click of delicate heels on tiled floors, the rustling of fabrics. Elphaba was not at all prepared for the sight which greeted her when the door swung open.

Glinda had always been pretty. That was a well known fact. The sky was blue, the grass was green and Glinda was pretty. With her blonde hair and her pale skin, her glittering eyes and shining smile. The kind of pretty where it hurt to long at her for too long.

But, right now, in this very second, as the sun rose above the horizon, Elphaba was certain she'd never been more beautiful.

The white dress fitted her like a glove, cinched to her waist, curving over her hips before flaring to the ground in a delicate overskirt. There were no sleeves, no straps, the soft skin of her shoulders and collarbones bared. The curve of her chest was highlighted by the small gems beading the neckline, tracing a diagonal down the front, giving the illusion that the dress was wrapped around her, leading into a scattering of gems like a constellation along her right hip.

Her hair was curled gently, some locks gathered into a twist at the back of her head, the rest artfully arranged in a fall over her shoulders, framing her face and the graceful length of her neck. The make-up wasn't over the top, subtle and soft, lips glossy and pink, eyes lined with kohl. She wore no jewellery, save for a pair of earrings shaped like sky birds with sparkling green emeralds for eyes.

She was a vision in simplicity, draped in elegance and finery and Elphaba felt her knees going weak at the mere sight of her.

This was a terrible, terrible idea. Hell and Oz, what was Elphaba thinking, coming here? Why did she believe she would have been able to handle the sight of Glinda like this?

It could only be her arrogance talking, for it could be nothing but arrogant to believe she could stand here and not want to whisk Glinda off and away, revolution be damned.

And to think, the person who was getting to stand on the other end of the aisle didn't even want her.

Fiyero was a brainless fool.

If it was Elphaba — Gods, if it was Elphaba, standing opposite her, holding her hands, passing her thumbs over the back of her palms as Glinda smiled and laughed her way through her vows, as they promised to love each other for the rest of time —

"Darling?"

Glinda's voice broke through her cycling thoughts. Elphaba snapped out of it, shaking her head slightly before looking to meet her eyes.

There was a grin pulling at the corners of Glinda's mouth. An eyebrow was arched and her eyes were glinting with a degree of smugness Elphaba had not seen since their days at Shiz. She was pleased. She was enjoying the reaction her dolled up in her bridal gown was eliciting from Elphaba.

"Stop it," Elphaba scolded.

Glinda's smirk widened, sharpening like a cat who caught a canary. She batted her lashes innocently. "Stop what, dearest?"

"That." Elphaba gestured to all of her, every perfect, beautiful, stunning inch of her, from the fall of her blonde hair to the edges of the gown. Gods, she could bring the heavens to heel. "The flirting."

"Is that what I'm doing?" Glinda crooned, taking a step forward, shortening the inches between them to less than a foot.

"Glinda," Elphaba growled, feeling the edges of her restraint starting to fray. She could reach out and touch her. She could not reach out and touch her. "You get any closer and you won't be walking down the aisle."

Her gaze heated dangerously, a flush appearing on her chest, right there for Elphaba to see since so much of her skin was on display. "You make quite the compelling case, Elphie," Glinda purred, dragging a painted nail over her collarbones.

Elphaba's eyes followed the movement, watching the way Glinda traced mindless circles along her skin. She lingered there for a moment too long, entranced by the rise and fall of her chest, by the way the blush crept up the sides of Glinda's neck the longer she stared, turning her a pretty shade of red.

Gods, was that glitter dusted along her clavicles?

Oh, Elphaba needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of here before she peeled that Oz-damned dress off with her teeth, before she ripped the fastenings away with her magic, before she licked the glitter from hollow of her collarbones, before she lifted those skirts and dropped to her knees.

Before she wound blonde curls in her hand and crushed their mouths together, damn it all to hell.

Elphaba didn't leave. She leaned the broom against the door frame and took half a step forward into Glinda's space, bringing her hands up, hovering indecisively over the curve of her waist. Glinda's sweet vanilla perfume filled her senses, making her mind spin off its axis.

It was always dizzying to be this close to her, to see every delicate eyelash fluttering against her cheekbones, to see the gleam in her eyes, the pulse rushing in her neck, the baby hairs curling at her temples. To feel the warmth seeping through the fine fabric of her wedding dress as Elphaba finally settled her hands on her waist. To feel the goosebumps rise along her own skin as Glinda laced her hands at the nape of her neck.

To think, she'd once mistaken this feeling for loathing.

"I didn't think I'd see you today." Glinda kept her voice as quiet as a whisper. Her palms framed Elphaba's neck, a thumb stroking the soft skin under her jaw.

"You knew I was coming," Elphaba said.

"Yes, for the Monkeys. " She nodded. "But, not for me." She shrugged helplessly. "I won't have blamed you for not wanting to see me."

Elphaba exhaled through her nose. "My sweet—"

"Yes, yes, yes. I know." Glinda shook her head dismissively. "You're not upset, you understand, blah, blah, blah. We've done the song and dance already. Still," she paused, looking at the floor, at the walls, over Elphaba's shoulder, "Still, darling, Lurline knows if it were you, I'd have caused a ruckus across Oz."

"I'm still not entirely certain I won't show up and object," Elphaba muttered, fondly picturing it. She would burst through the palace doors and whip up a wind storm with her magic. She would fly into the air and allow the full flair of her cape to unfurl. She would lace her words with her power as she protested the union.

Glinda smiled. "You would do that for me?"

"I'd steal you away like a jealous knight," Elphaba drawled.

"Oh Elphie!" Glinda hugged her, burrowing into her neck. "You say the sweetest, most romantic things."

Elphaba pressed her nose into her soft hair, inhaling the floral, cherry blossom smell of Glinda's shampoo, arms steady around her waist, careful not to wrinkle the gown. The wedding may be a farce in terms of love and emotional connection, but it would be Elphaba's head on a platter if Glinda found a single crease in the fabric.

"You should probably get going," Glinda murmured.

They hadn't moved in minutes, only halfway pass the threshold of the balcony door. It would be so easy for the Monkeys on patrol to catch them, so easy for an alarm bell to go off and for Elphaba to get dragged away and thrown into some dark hole in Southstairs or executed in the courtyard.

Still, they didn't move, so entangled with each other that nothing short of divine magic could rip them apart.

"Maybe," Elphaba agreed.

Glinda surely had things to do. A fancy headpiece to don, a long bridal train to attach, last minute touch ups to her hair and make-up, her engagement ring to slip onto her hand. And Elphaba needed to hide until the wedding procession began.

Yet — Her grip tightened and she hid deeper in Glinda's curls, tucking her nose against her pulse. She could die here, with Glinda's arms around her shoulders and Glinda's face hidden in her neck. She could be immortalized like this.

"Five more minutes," Elphaba bargained desperately. The next time Elphaba saw her, she would no longer be just Glinda Arduenna Upland.

She would be Her Highness, Princess Glinda Arduenna Upland Tigelaar, of the Uplands of Frottica, and wife of Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of the Arjikis of Vinkus.

Elphaba wanted to remember the last time she saw her like this, without royalty attached to her name, without a title long enough to full an entire block on a family tree, without a binding, legal contract saying she was bound to someone else. She wanted to savour her like this.

"Ten," Glinda said. She pulled back a touch, just enough to allow herself to cradle Elphaba's face in her hands. "Ten minutes, and then you can skitter away."

"Is that an order, Your Goodness?" Elphaba mused, fingers wrapping around Glinda's wrists, thumbs stroking over her pulse.

Glinda laughed wetly and tipped their foreheads together. "Yes," she said, sniffling, Elphaba brushing away the diamond tears from the corners of her eyes. "Just, stay with me for a little while longer, darling. Let this be the memory I cherish from today."

Her chest cracked open right down the middle from that sentiment. Oh, how Elphaba wished she could magic this pain away with a few words and a wave of her hand. But, she couldn't. So, instead, she hummed a little tune and held Glinda closer.

Elphaba would stay there until Oz turned to ash around them if she asked.

-<—>-

She couldn't believe she allowed herself to get caught up in his nice words and platitudes. Hadn't she learnt the hard way that all his promises were empty? Hadn't she learnt the hard way that he was nothing but a fraud, selling his lies to the citizens of Oz?

She wasn't expecting to see the Wizard when she snuck into the throne room, assuming he would have been attending the wedding festivities. Instead, he was in his workshop, fiddling around with the various knobs and controls of his mechanical head.

He hadn't seemed too surprised to see her. In fact, he looked almost hopeful.

"I never meant to harm you, Elphaba."

Her mistake was letting him speak, letting him put on a show and spin her around the throne room in a dance. Her mistake was letting his words wash over her, letting her mind wander and skip into the fantasy he was creating, one where this could be easy, where he wouldn't challenge her.

"You've done much for the Ozians these past years, Elphaba. It's long past you receive your due. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

It did sound wonderful. For those few seconds, a different future played out in front of her, one where Elphaba didn't have to leave the palace today, where she could stay, where the last four years could be rewritten in a different light without the overthrowing of the head of state.

She'd spent nearly half a decade battling the Gale Force and rescuing Animals from all corners of Oz, disrupting operations on the road when she needed to make a statement, coordinating with the Resistance to tear down the Wizard's statues and murals.

And he was offering to brush all of that away, to spin the image of the Wicked Witch of the West into something else.

Then, there was also Glinda and Nessa to consider. Glinda, who played a part in all of Elphaba's insurrections, whose life Elphaba feared for every single day. Nessa, who had pledged her support when the moment came, who would stand beside her, come what may and hell to pay. Both of them would be trialled and killed for their associations if anyone found out.

So, yes, Elphaba considered the offer for those few seconds. If not for herself, then for the two she loved more than anything in the entire Oz-damned world.

Elphaba accepted the offer for those few seconds. With a condition attached.

"Set the Monkeys free," Elphaba had said. "All of them."

She could hear the orchestra from the other side of the doors. Glinda was walking down the aisle. She almost asked him to stop the wedding as well but, that seemed like a harder ask. Maybe if the bride and groom and audience weren't all gathered in the Hall of Grandiosity it would have been easier to call the wedding off.

"Done," the Wizard said and he had pulled a lever, releasing them.

Their calls filled the throne room as they flew around, heading for the same tunnel Morrible had entered from that dreaded day long ago.

"Go Chistery! Fly! Lead them away!" Elphaba called after them, watching as they disappeared.

How she wished it ended there, that the wedding drew to a close and Glinda and Fiyero came into the throne room, and Glinda found her here and leapt into her arms, newly acquired husband be damned. That their scheming was no longer needed because the Wizard welcomed Elphaba back. That she could come home now. Not some indeterminable time in the future. Now.

But, when was Elphaba's life ever that easy? When had anything ever been that Oz-damned simple?

Another door gave way, this one hidden in the corners of the workshop. The Wizard was distracted by something on his control panel and didn't notice Elphaba slipping away into the shadows of the door. There were a series of steps leading down into the dark and there were sounds, like jangling metal. She didn't hesitate to enter, fear for her own life something conditioned away after her first flight on the broom.

What she found made her blood boil, made the magic inside of her crackle to an inferno.

There were Animals trapped in cages, countless Animals, in cages of all sizes. Monkeys and Birds, there was a Cow, a Giraffe, a Rhino and so many, many more, lining this long hallway beneath the Wizard's throne room.

How had she missed this prison? In all of her planning and tracking the movements of the Gale Force, with the Resistance spy network in the city, how had this managed to escape her view?

Did Glinda —

Elphaba immediately discarded the thought, tossed it away as soon as it manifested. Glinda wouldn't have known. If Glinda knew, she would have written to Elphaba and Elphaba would have descended on the palace with all the righteous fury of an old demigod and torn the place to shreds. No, Glinda wasn't to blame for this.

There were footsteps behind her.

"Elphaba—" came the Wizard's voice.

A snarl built up in Elphaba's throat as her eyes landed on a specific cage, with a familiar looking Goat trapped behind the bars. The old vision flowed through her like a tidal wave, his terrified face looking up at her with tired eyes. She rushed over, pressing her hands against the cage, feeling the urge to scream.

"No," Elphaba said, the small word breaking in half. "No, Oz, no. Doctor Dillamond."

The old Goat lifted his head. He looked exhausted, worse than exhausted, the very life in his bones drained out of him. His fur had turned a deeper grey around the eyes and mouth. He'd been in here for years. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but all which came out was bahhhh. His voice was gone, stolen from him by these people.

"Elphaba," the Wizard said cautiously. "Surely you understand—"

Whatever he said, Elphaba didn't hear it. The magic was humming inside of her now, vibrating from the tips of her hair all the way down to the tips of her toes, making her ears ring.

"I'll fight you," Elphaba promised, whirling around to put the torrential force of her anger on him. She stepped forward and he stumbled back, that once hopeful look in his eyes gone. Whatever he saw on her face frightened him. "Even if it takes my entire life, I will make sure you can't hurt anyone ever again."

The power coalesced in her hands, snaking around her finger tips, causing the very air in the room to spark and ignite. It shot out, aiming for the latches on the cages, forcing them open with a loud clang. The doors broke off and the Animals, upon realizing they were given their freedom, rose to their feet. Elphaba blew the doorway apart, making it large enough for all of them to fit through. She didn't even want to imagine how they got that Giraffe in here in the first place.

Then, she looked the Wizard dead in the eye. "Run."

It seemed Elphaba was objecting to the wedding after all.

-<—>-

Glinda dreamt of her wedding as a young girl, of her dress and the venue, of the decor and the guests and the song she would have her first dance to. She imagined her groom to be tall and handsome, to be wealthy and of good standing. She wanted a large wedding, full of those who adored her. She wanted a fairytale.

Now, as she stood in the wings of the Hall of Grandiosity, clutching a bouquet of cherry blossoms as she waited for the music to announce the start of her procession, now Glinda would trade every piece of the fairytale for something real.

For a shoddy apartment in the city. For mundane arguments about dinner and lunch and who left an unwashed plate in the sink. For architectural blueprints scattered on a dining table, next to heavy tomes belonging to a doctoral student. For empty cups of tea and shoes knocked over by the front door and too many colourful coats crowding the rack beside a singular black trench. For coming home from her internship and finding Elphie slumped over her notes, asleep with her glasses askew and grumbling about having to finish her thesis draft as Glinda coaxed her into the bed.

Those were the pieces of the life she imagined on that one too short day — barely even a day — she had spent here with Elphie. The pieces of the life she once dreamt of, in another time and another place, when the future had seemed bright and beautiful and stretched before her with all the promises of more — more time, more memories, more opportunities, when she was young and foolish and destiny had felt like something obedient she could lasso into her hands and fate didn't appear as a sharpened sword at the base of their necks.

But, that was the amusing, terrible, awful thing about fate. It let you wish, it let you yearn, it let you indulge — in your hopes, in your dreams, in your fantasies. And then it tore it all away, leaving you to try to put the pieces of a broken mosaic back together, as though the kaleidoscopic glass wasn't shattered beyond repair, hammered into shards primed to draw blood.

Glinda blew a shuddering breath past her lips, sniffling. Her eyes were getting teary but that wouldn't be considered a bad thing by the assembled audience of aristocrats and officials. Happy tears, right?

What bride didn't cry happy tears?

"Your Goodness?" one of the palace attendants called, approaching her. "The orchestra is ready."

She nodded. Her hands were trembling. Her body felt cold. Everything about this was so terribly wrong.

She turned and looked down the hallway, the one which led away from the room full of people waiting to watch her pledge honestly and faithfully to stand beside a man she didn't love for the rest of her life.

What if she ran? What if she turned and fled? Elphaba was somewhere in the palace at this very moment. Glinda could rush back to her room and write a letter, a simple series of three words: Take me away.

Elphie would listen. Elphie wouldn't ask twice. She would pull Glinda onto the broom and whisk her off into the western sky and they could disappear into the Thousand Year Grasslands, they could go as far as Ev, flying over the Impassable Desert. They could go to Ix. They could find themselves in the corners of the world where no one had ever heard of the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good Witch, chasing the stories of the mythical oceans to the very edges of the land.

But, that would be selfish, and while Glinda could find that selfishness within herself, Elphaba couldn't. She was too good. That was the irony of their monikers after all. So, Glinda buried the selfish thoughts and readied herself for what lay ahead. 

She stepped out from the wings as the music commenced, taking her place at the top of the aisle. The crowd rose, everyone standing with their shoulders straight and their hands clasped before their waists.

The melody glided through the air and Glinda moved, one foot in front of the other, down this hall she walked everyday, down this hall she once walked arm and arm with Elphaba. Arrangements of pink flowers had been artfully placed along the arches of the windows and the lengths of the pillars. Streamers filled in the decorations. Pink wisteria hung from the high ceilings in curving arcs. Yellow butterflies fluttered in the air, the golden sun shining in from circular windows making them glow in the light.

Not a cent had been spared on the expense. It was a show, an event, the event across all of Oz. The invitations had been hard earned by everyone in this room, all of them handpicked by Morrible.

Glinda spared a glance for her parents, both smiling, both teary eyed. They're proud of her, of course they're proud of her. Their daughter stood as one of the most respected figures in the land and she was marrying a prince!

They didn't know how much of a farce the whole thing was.

When she got to the end, her father stepped forward and took her arm. "My beautiful girl," he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Glinda smiled a bit, leaning her cheek on his shoulder as he escorted her up the steps of the altar to Fiyero.

Fiyero wasn't dressed in the colours of Vinkus, in his deep navy blues or cobalt. He was in his captain's uniform, as instructed by Morrible, jacket pressed, golden tassels dangling, an embroidered half cape swaying as he reached for Glinda's hands. He wasn't even smiling.

Glinda almost wanted to laugh. How comical it was, that both bride and groom would rather be standing here with a different person altogether. The same person in fact.

Her father clapped Fiyero on his shoulder and gave him an approving nod. Then he stepped back to his seat and the crowd lowered themselves to their chairs as the ceremony prepared to start in earnest.

The Unionist minister began, "Family, friends, esteemed guests, we are gathered here today to witness the union between Lady Glinda Arduenn—"

BANG!

Glinda startled, her attention whipping around the room for the source of the noise. The guards were already up and moving from their posts, darting about as the guests muttered uncertainly. Where did that come from? Was that Elphaba? Was that the Monkeys being released?

Fiyero dropped her hands and stepped forward, halfway off the wedding altar, his fingers resting on the holster of his gun.

For a clocktick, the entire hall held its breath.

The doors to the throne room flew open, slamming into the walls hard enough to shake the foundation of the palace. Animals flooded out, running, flying, rushing as fast as they could to get away. They upturned the seating and tore the flower arrangements down. They trampled over whoever and whatever got in their way, sending the six layer cake careening into the floor, wisteria pulled from the ceiling, chairs splintering into pieces.

The guests screamed. Her father tore her to the side to avoid being run over as the Animals made for the exit.

"This is the work of the Wicked Witch!" Morrible exclaimed above the madness, but everyone was too busy trying to get out of the hall to pay attention to her.

Fiyero disappeared in the chaos but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where he was going.

"Darling—" her mother began, but Glinda was already off, tearing away the long bridal train and gathering her skirts, running for the throne room.

She cut through the hall, up the steps and slipped pass the doors, making for the Wizard's workshop at the back. Her eyes found the man himself sitting at his worktable in the corner, his gaze locked onto Fiyero and Elphaba, the pair speaking in low voices. He was stock still, afraid to make a move. She didn't spare him a second glance.

Appearances be damned, Glinda threw herself at Elphie, hugging her around the shoulders. "Oz — I thought — I thought—" With the noise and the Animals, she hadn't been sure of what happened. And where exactly did those Animals come from?

"Glinda, you need to go," Fiyero said.

"What are you—" Glinda shook her head. That brainless buffoon. "Don't mind him, Your Ozness," she said, even though she was still so very clearly wrapped around the number one enemy of the state, voice muffled against Elphie's shoulder. Close. That was far, far too close for comfort. Sweet Lurline, Glinda's heart was racing. "We're all old friends, you see. From our university days."

Glinda drew back from the hug and met Elphaba's eyes. A wordless conversation passed between them, Elphie subtly tipping her chin towards a door in the corner Glinda had never noticed before.

The pieces clicked together. The Animals were imprisoned here, in the palace, right under her feet. Hell and Oz, how did that slip through Glinda's fingers? When were they transporting Animals into the palace? When were these captures taking place? As Captain of the Guard, Fiyero should have had access to this information and yet, in all his documents, she had never come across mention of this.

Oz, did Elphaba think — No, she couldn't. She wasn't watching her with anger and disgust. Just a new, steeled resolve to right all the wrongs and injustices of the world.

"Elphaba!" Fiyero called. He grabbed for her hand. "Come on!"

"Fiyero!" Couldn't he see how it would look if he chose this particular moment to turncoat? Couldn't he wait a couple more days before attempting to play the hero? Gods, where was his mind?

"I'm going with her," he proclaimed, which, yes, clearly. She wasn't blind.

Next to him, Elphaba had yet to pull her eyes away from Glinda, too busy dragging her gaze from the silver butterfly crown, down to the full flair of the dress skirts. She hadn't seen the full ensemble earlier. Now, her attention was making Glinda want to preen, making her want to twirl to show off the skirts.

But, alas, the Wizard was still in the corner of the room and he was watching all three of them like a hawk.

So, Glinda did what she did best. She schooled her features into something heart breaking and played her part.

"You're saying… the two of you… behind my back… all this time?" she asked, forcing a break in her voice.

"No, Glinda it wasn't like that—" Elphaba tried taking a step forward but Fiyero stopped her.

"Well, it was, and it wasn't. But, there's no time for that. We have to go!" He pulled her out of the room.

Elphie looked back over her shoulder once and caught Glinda's gaze.

Glinda gave her an imperceptible nod. Go. Be safe. Be careful. I'll write as soon as I have a chance.

And, just like that, they were gone, down the halls, into whatever secret entrance Elphaba had used to get into here in the first place.

Before Glinda had a chance to turn to the Wizard, Morrible was walking into the room. "What in Oz's name happened?"

She let him catch her up on the events, behaving like a scorned bride. She willed tears into her eyes and forced them to fall, pressing a hand to her chest.

Lurline, this was going to be a set back of great proportions. Elphaba's reputation would take a terrible hit because Morrible would surely spin this and say she seduced Fiyero or something equally ridiculous. Glinda was going to have to play damage control. She needed to plan. She needed to talk to Elphie and Nessa.

"Well, we'll just flush her out."

"How so?"

"Her sister," Glinda spoke, her mind whirring. Yes, yes. A political assassination which could be traced back to the Wizard and Morrible. Eliminating the Eminence of Munchkinland was surely grounds for removal from office. It would also serve as a large enough distraction from the interrupted wedding and Fiyero leaving. "Use her sister. Spread a rumour." Elphaba was too smart for a rumour and they both knew that. They'd have to make it real.

"Madame, Your Ozness, may I be excused?" Glinda asked, sniffling for good measure. She needed to write to Elphaba quickly. She needed to get Nessa out of that house. "I think I feel a headache coming on."

"Yes, of course, my dear," the Wizard said. "You've had a hard day."

Glinda dipped her head to them both. She pivoted on her heel and strode for the entrance. Once she was out of view, she ran, rushing as fast as she could for her apartments, shoving the door open with a bang and grabbing the quill from her desk. She ripped a page out of a random notepad, scribbling her message down.

GET NESSA OUT OF COLWEN GROUNDS IMMEDIATELY. MORRIBLE AND THE WIZARD ARE GOING AFTER HER.

She added one more thing and lit the paper on fire, watching as the parchment disappeared, leaving behind green embers.

-<—>-

They crashed into the treehouse, an inelegant pile of limbs hitting the floor.

Elphaba groaned upon impact, rolling over and shoving to her feet. Flying with Fiyero was an experience. He twitched at every slight movement and gripped her tighter every time the broom swept too high or too low too fast for his faculties to handle. He was like a spooked horse hundreds of feet off the land with Elphaba as the only thing to ground him.

Very different from flying with Glinda. At least Glinda didn't — shockingly — yelp every five seconds when she was on the broom.

Elphaba left Fiyero to gather himself on the ground, leaning the broom against her makeshift worktable, grabbing a pencil and a loose piece of paper, which was actually a propaganda flyer of herself. She put pencil to the paper and started to compose her message.

At least thirty Animals have been freed from the Emerald Palace. From my quick overview, they retreated to hide in the forest just outside the city. I'll assist in any way I can. Additionally, the Flying Monkeys have been released from their captivity. Let me know me know if they've been spotted.

"What are you doing?" Fiyero asked.

Elphaba folded the letter and walked to the edge of the treehouse. Her eyes scanned the trees, looking for any of her usual messengers — there, on a higher branch of a nearby tree, lingering in the shadows to stay hidden.

"Hedge!" Elphaba waved to get the Falcon's attention.

He flapped down from his perch, landing on a branch protruding from treehouse. He was a large Falcon, with grey and white feathers, and dark intelligent eyes. He was one of the many Birds who acted as messengers between the various cells of the Resistance, and he was frequently Elphaba's preferred method of transportation. He was the only one she trusted to carry her letters to a certain palace tower and to Colwen Grounds.

"Good day to you, Fae," he said. He stuck his foot out and allowed Elphaba to tied the message around his leg with a piece of twine. "For Miss Glinda?"

Behind her, it sounded like Fiyero choked.

"The city cell," Elphaba said. "I fear they're about to have their hands full."

Hedge nodded and leapt into the sky, heading east. Once the Bird was little more than a dot, Elphaba turned to Fiyero, who was already watching her with confusion in his eyes. He'd shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He was clearly making himself comfortable for reasons unknown, especially since Elphaba had no plans of leaving him here when she flew off next.

"Glinda?" he asked, like he needed to be sure he heard properly.

"Yes, Fiyero." Elphaba rubbed the bridge of her nose. How was it not even nightfall yet? Her talk with Glinda this morning felt like it happened a lifetime ago. "How do you think I managed some of these things? It's a wonder you never noticed how many of your orders she swiped."

The noise he made was similar to that of a dying cat. "Wait so — so this entire time, she's been, what? She's been helping you?"

"Yes," Elphaba said simply, hand reaching into her pocket. She'd felt a letter appear there from Glinda not long into the flight, but she hadn't wanted to take her hands off the broom in case Fiyero screamed.

"But, I don't—" He scoffed, so incredibly lost and so incredibly far behind. Three and a half years behind. "She — she's been —" He cut off and paced in a circle. "All this time, all the things she's been saying—"

"She's a good actress," Elphaba commented.

He spun back to look at her. There was something about him, something about the way he was tittering around and the look in his eyes that was almost familiar — Oh, Hell and Oz. That's what it was. He was looking at her the way she looked at Glinda once, back at Shiz, back when she had assumed Glinda was on some untouchable pedestal so far out of her reach, her feelings something to be buried and never spoken of.

He was looking at her like he was in love with her.

Hell and Oz.

"Fiyero," she said slowly, hoping against hope she was wrong, "why did you come with me?"

She really did not want to break his heart.

"Because I—" he gulped, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I thought — all these long years, about that day in the forest, with the cub and the moment we shared—"

"That's all it was." It appeared she was breaking his heart. Oz Almighty. "It was a moment."

Elphaba couldn't begin to explain all of the emotions that were tangled up inside her head that day. There was too much going on, with Glinda — Galinda back then — and Doctor Dillamond, and her impending invitation from the Wizard. There were so many things on Elphaba's mind and then the Lion cub happened and then Fiyero was there, and he was the only one awake and Elphaba was sure she confused being grateful for the presence of a friend for something else.

Pain flashed across his face. Elphaba felt a nip of guilt at the sight but, it was better this way. Better that she let him down now, than he continue his yearning and get his heart broken harder in the future.

"And Glinda?" he asked, though he sounded like he knew. He sounded like he figured it out the second Hedge asked if the letter was meant for her. "Are you two…?"

"Not exactly." Elphaba fiddled with the letter in her hand. "It's hard, what with—" She gestured around them at the treehouse. "But, I love her, if that's what you're asking."

She moved towards her makeshift worktable, taking the full force of her attention from Fiyero. It seemed cruel to keep looking at him as he tried to regain his composure. Instead, Elphaba turned her gaze to Glinda's letter, flipping it open.

Elphaba's eyes scanned the three lines written urgently and her hand snapped out, the Grimmerie flying straight into it. The spell book shot open, pages surging as it responded to Elphaba's emotions, shuffling back and forth, trying to find a solution. Flight and speed and levitation and, finally, something which Elphaba had not tried before but, gods, she needed it to work.

A teleportation spell.

"Grab my shoulder," she ordered Fiyero, not waiting for an answer, starting her chanting.

The magic swirled around her, rustling through the leaves of the treehouse. Elphaba waved her arms, conducting the flow of power. It tightened around her, as though it were preparing to toss her into the air. When the magic reached its crest, the broom flew to Elphaba's hand and, together with Fiyero, they vanished from the treehouse.

-<—>-

The magic threw Elphaba and Fiyero straight into Nessa's office, a repeat of the broom throwing them on the treehouse floor.

"What in — Elphaba!" Nessarose exclaimed. "Fiyero! What are you —"

"Elphaba?" Boq was also with her, having returned from Wend Hardings sometime between when Elphaba left in the early hours of the morning and now. He scrambled to his feet at the sight of them crashing on the ground.

It was to be a day of reunions for Elphaba clearly. Oh joy.

"Fabala, when I said object to the wedding, I'd hoped you would run away with the bride, not the groom," Nessa commented unhelpfully, adding at the end, "No offence, Fiyero."

He made a weak noise in his throat.

"Elphaba, what are you—"

"Not the time to explain, Boq," Elphaba said. She tossed her broom over Nessa's lap and dragged Fiyero over, forcing him and Boq to grab onto the back of Nessa's chair. "I need to get you out of here."

"What? Elphaba, I am the Eminent Thropp! I cannot just leave!" Nessa said.

Elphaba dropped Glinda's letter in her sister's hand in explanation and whirled on Fiyero while she read exactly why she needed to leave. "Where can we go that's safe? Where wouldn't they look?" She couldn't take them to the Resistance. Who knew what the Resistance would do to the Captain of the Wizard's Guard?

"Uh." He blinked. Then, he snapped his fingers together. "Kiamo Ko. It's my family's castle, but there's no one there right now besides the guards. It'll be safe."

"Is anyone going to explain what's going on?" Boq yelled.

Nessa, grabbing onto Elphaba's arm as she resumed her chanting, said, "It appears as though the Wizard and Morrible are going to attempt to assassinate me."

"What?"

They all disappeared in the next breath.

-<—>-

"Oh, you must believe me Miss Glinda!" the shaking little thing cried, tears rolling down her cheeks and clutching that scruffy looking tiny dog to her chest. "I don't know what happened! Honest! The house just — whoosh!" She made a motion with her hand. "And the wind picked up and the house started spinning and then I was inside of a tornado—"

Yes, the twister. Morrible's doing no doubt. Glinda hadn't been sure exactly what the old sorceress would do. If she would send a handful of Gale Force members to do her bidding or call forth a disaster from the skies. Seemed as though she decided to take matters in her own hands. All the better for them.

"— And the house spun and spun and then! It landed here!" the girl — Dorothy — shrieked. "In this colourful place —"

Her shoulders were shaking. She was wearing a curious looking dress, white and blue checkered squares making up the fabric. It reminded Glinda of a picnic blanket she would spread over the grass in the poppy fields of Shiz. Why was this child wearing a picnic blanket?

"— I didn't mean for the house to land on her," she whimpered, pointing to the pair of legs sticking out from under the wreckage, a tangible illusion cooked up by the magic of the Grimmerie, completed with Nessarose's beautiful silver slippers. However did Elphaba manage to convince her sister to part from them? Well. How was inconsequential. The point was she did and that helped to sell this play of smoke and mirrors. Everyone knew Nessa favoured those shoes and it worked as the perfect identifier, for the rest of her body was supposedly crushed by the fallen house. "I didn't mean to kill anyone!"

Clearly not, with the way she was trembling. Glinda could almost hear her teeth rattling.

"Worry not, my dear!" Glinda trilled, gesturing with her wand. "Tell me, where is it you are from?"

"Kansas." She sniffled.

Glinda had never heard of that place in her life. Quite frankly, it wasn't her problem at this particular moment. There were much more pressing things for her to attend to and this child was an inconvenience in her schedule. Couldn't the Munchkinlanders have handled this themselves? The girl was surely harmless, there was no need for Glinda to be here.

"Can you help me get back there?" Her eyes were glistening with tears now. Glinda sincerely hoped she didn't start crying in earnest.

"I cannot," she said. "But!" She smiled brilliantly. "Our Wonderful Wizard of Oz certainly can!"

He certainly could not, but she didn't have to know that. At the very least, getting her to the city would get her out of Glinda's sight and give her a second to think and figure out how to proceed from here, with a child now in the equation. Lurline help me.

"It's a long walk from Munchkinland. Just follow the Yellow Brick Road," Glinda crooned in that showgirl voice she had perfected over the last few years, where she sounded honey sweet. Nevermind the train station in Nest Hardings. The road was better. The walking would do her some good, and hopefully get her to stop all that pitiful quavering. "It would lead you right to the Emerald City, the home of the Wizard."

"And — and, he can help me home?" Dorothy asked.

"Of course!" No, but Elphaba probably could. Hmm. Maybe that could work. Use this child to expose the Wizard as a fraud and Elphie can swoop in and save the day. "Now, you must hurry along!"

Dorothy nodded quickly. She turned, ready to leave but, before she even took a step, she released another high pitch sound. "My shoes!" She was barefoot, nothing but white socks pulled up the her ankles.

Oh, for the love of Oz—

Glinda waved her wand towards the pair of legs, to the silver slippers. "Take those! The Wicked Witch of the East no longer needs them. Quickly now! The Wizard of Oz waits for no one!"

It took another ten minutes for Glinda to hustle Dorothy away. She was a fretful thing, and the dog huddled in that little basket wasn't any better, constantly yelping and yipping and adding to Glinda's growing headache. Somehow, Dorothy managed to remove the shoes without breaking down into another fit of tears and trotted off on the road. It would take her at least a day to walk from here to the city, two if Glinda was lucky.

With the child now gone, Glinda turned to the crowd of Munchkinlanders who had assembled to greet her.

"Worry not, my fellow Ozians!" She turned her sparkle up a touch, catching the sunlight on her dazzling wand. "Rest assure, the Wizard will see her home. Now, please —" She pointed to the gates of Colwen Grounds. "Return to your homes. The Gale Force will be here soon enough."

She was positive they were still hours away, but she needed these Munchkins to leave.

Thankfully, they listened without a fight, accepting Glinda's words at face value. Goodness. She worried sometimes about how easily they believed her.

Once she was finally left alone, Glinda assessed the situation at hand. The girl's farmhouse had landed on the cloister located within the Thropp estate, managing to take out the first half of the chapel. The farmhouse wasn't anything special, unlike the farmhouses of Munchkinland, which were built circular in structure. This building was rectangular and seemed to be made of wooden planks.

Hmm. Dorothy wasn't from any corner of Oz Glinda could recognize.

Her eyes dropped to the legs sticking out from under the house. It really was a feat of magic, the illusion. The wonders never ceased to amaze when it came to the depth of Elphie's power.

Behind her, she heard the swish of a cape snapping in the breeze.

"Remind me to gift Nessie better socks," Glinda said, eyes locked on the hideous design, black and white strips cutting through the fabric in an unflattering manner. "Are they safe?"

"Yes," Elphaba said, coming to stand beside her. The brim of her hat was pulled low over her face. "At Kiamo Ko. Nessa wasn't pleased to be removed from her office."

"Oh, tell her to relax. She'll be back soon," Glinda said.

"You sound like you have a plan, my sweet," she commented.

Glinda smiled prettily and fluttered her lashes. "Don't I usually?" she sang.

Elphie chuckled with a fond shake of her head. She looked at Glinda, something too rich and deep to be solely adoration shining in her eyes. Oh, how Glinda wished she could wake up to those eyes every day. "Tell me then."

So, she did. About the farmhouse's occupant, who she sent skittering down the road with nothing but that dog, the basket in her hand and Nessa's shoes—

"You gave her Nessie's slippers?" Elphaba cut in with disbelief colouring her voice. "Glinda!"

"What?" Glinda waved a hand. "She'll get them back! Once we're at the palace and the Wizard is fumbling through his lies!"

"Hell and Oz." Elphaba tilted her head back and glanced up at the sky, as though she were begging for patience. A clocktick later, her eyes returned to Glinda. "Do you truly believe this is going to work?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she said. "It will work itself out. Trust me."

"I do trust you," Elphaba said. "Your plans simply terrify me at times."

She clearly was not over the whole secession of Munchkinland nonsense. Well. She'd get over it eventually. It worked! This "assassination" could easily be an escalated reaction from the palace over the Eminent's attempt to break away.

"I'm sorry for ruining the wedding," Elphaba said, not an ounce of apology in her tone. She didn't even look ashamed. "I know that wasn't part of the plan."

Glinda laughed. "Elphie, you and I both know I'm very pleased we didn't get to the 'I dos' yesterday. Besides, if anyone should be apologising…" She sighed. "It should be me. Those Animals being trapped below the palace for so long…"

"That's not your fault, Glinda." Elphaba reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I should have caught it sooner," she muttered. She would lose sleep over this oversight for months to come.

"My love," Elphie said quietly, pulling her closer, resting her forehead on Glinda's temple. "Don't place the blame on yourself. Place the blame on those who deserve it."

Glinda released a breath, leaning into Elphaba's warmth. She was right, of course. But, Glinda reserved the right to feel guilty about it. For a little while at the very least.

"You should probably go," Glinda told her, for the second time in barely two days. Why was she always telling her to go? When would she be allowed to ask her to stay? "Before any Munchkinlanders find you with your hands on Oz's lovely Good Witch."

Elphaba smirked, tilting closer, brushing her nose down Glinda's cheek, fingertips featherlight over the curve of her waist, pressing a slow, long, indulgent kiss to the soft skin just behind her ear. "Oh, what would the gossipmongers say?"

Glinda giggled, shoving her shoulder. She stepped back to put space between them, but their hands lingered until it was physically impossible for them to hold on, a pair of magnets forced apart.

"Back to the Kiamo Ko?" Glinda asked.

"Hmm." Elphaba considered. "No, I think I ought to keep an eye on your new friend. Make sure she doesn't run into any trouble."

"How much trouble could a twelve year old possibly get into?" Glinda was doubtful. All she had to do was walk the road! Surely, that couldn't be hard.

"You never know what's lurking in those woods, my sweet," Elphaba replied, swinging a leg over her broom, hovering a few inches off the ground. "I'll keep my distance. I have a friend who can accompany her on the road."

She curved in the air and lifted into the sky.

-<—>-

Elphaba stayed high, keeping to the shadows of the tallest trees and the cover of the clouds. Below her, two figures meandered on the road. One was dressed in blue and white, a little brown dog skipping beside her. The other walked on all fours, body a deep gold and mane wild around his head.

Brr was an old friend. Elphaba had rescued him with Fiyero's help all those years ago, saving him from being trapped in that horrible cage. Since then, he'd kept to the forests, trying to stay hidden and out of sight of the Wizard's patrols.

She had reconnected with him a handful of days after Glinda and Fiyero's engagement announcement, stumbling across his path along the border of Munchkinland and Gillikin. He'd recognized her immediately. It was hard to forget the person who saved you, especially when that person was green.

Brr helped her out on the odd errand ever so often. Mostly scouting missions in Munchkinland, the occasional fight with the Gale Force. Now, he'd spent much of the last day acting as Dorothy's personal guard, a sentinel at her side to keep her safe from whatever threats may jump out of the shadows.

They were approaching the main gate of the city, the road curving up the gentle slope of the hill. Elphaba's magic allowed her to hear their conversation, their words drifting through her ears.

"Oh! I hope the Wizard is not too busy to help!" Dorothy was saying, her voice shrill. "I do so want to get home! My Auntie Em is probably worried sick!"

"Don't fret, Miss Gale," Brr rumbled. "They don't call him Wonderful for nothing."

Elphaba snorted. She could hear the derision in Brr's voice. He knew just how Wonderful their Great and Powerful Wizard truly was.

As they reached the gate, Brr paused, Dorothy walking ahead of him. She pivoted on her heel when she realized her Lion companion had stopped.

"Are you not coming?" she asked. "Oh, please don't leave me, Brr! I don't know anything of this place."

His tail flicked with unease. "You'll find the Emerald City is not overly nice to my kind."

"Lions?" Dorothy, naive, non-Ozian thing that she was, asked.

"Animals," Brr replied. He gestured with his large paw. "Go on, Miss Gale. If Lady Glinda is the one who invited you, then you'll be warmly welcomed."

The girl hesitated. She looked between him and the looming city. "Are you sure?"

"You'll be alright," he told her and nodded to the gate.

She lingered a moment longer. When it became clear Brr would not follow, Dorothy spun around and skipped forward, the gates of the Emerald City opening to welcome its visitor from a land far away.

Elphaba watched until the gates closed behind her, until Brr leapt off the road and into the grass, making for the trees. Once her friend was safely ensconced by the forest, Elphaba shot towards the palace.

-<—>-

Dorothy Gale trembled before the gigantean bronze head of shifting gears and metals.

"I am Oz, the Great and Powerful!" the distorted voice of the Wizard boomed through the throne room, fires flaring from the walls. "Who goes there? Who are you?"

"I — if it pleases you, sir — I am Dorothy Gale!" she yelped, holding her dog closer to her chest. If she shook more, all of her bones would fall right out of her body. "Lady Glinda sent me! She told me you could get me home!"

"Ah, yes. Our dear traveller from Kansas."

"You — you know where I'm from?" the girl asked.

"Of course I do, child!" the Wizard said. "I am the Great and Powerful Oz! I know everything. I see everything."

"So, you'll send me home then? Back to Kansas and my Auntie Em and my Uncle Henry?" She sounded hopeful.

She sounded the way a young Elphaba Thropp once did, when she stood before the Wizard and asked for his help.

"It is within the power of the beneficent Oz to grant you your request, girl," the Wizard implored. "But, you must first prove yourself worthy of my help."

"Bring me the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West," the Wizard of Oz ordered. "And then, I shall send you home."

-<—>-

There existed a different version of this song, one with an entirely different chorus line.

Dorothy Gale dropped into Oz and the Munchkins rejoiced as their Wicked dictator met her brutal faith under the boards of her house. She wandered the Yellow Brick Road on the advice of Glinda the Good Witch of the North, seeking out the Wonderful Wizard of Oz and made friends with a brainless Scarecrow, a heartless Tin Man and a cowardly Lion. Together, they dodged the wrath of the Wicked Witch of the West who chased them down the road in pursuit of her lost sister's shoes.

They arrived at the Emerald City and were welcomed with open arms, ushered into the Emerald Palace to meet the Wizard. The Great and Powerful Oz promised to grant each of them their heart's desires if they could complete a single task: kill the Witch and bring him her broom as proof that she was dead.

Thus, the Witch Hunters set out for Kiamo Ko, where the Witch was hiding. She terrorized them with her army of Flying Monkeys, she locked them in her castle, promising they would face consequences if the silver slippers were not returned to her. But, plucky Dorothy Gale got the final say, throwing a bucket of water on the Witch, causing her melt into a puddle.

And, in the background chorus of that song, Glinda the Good screamed and cried herself hoarse for the lost love of her life.

In the background chorus of that song, the Wicked Witch pushed her hand against the hidden trap door and felt her heart break at the sound of her dearest love in pain.

In the background chorus of that song, Glinda Arduenna Upland would spend the rest of her life looking to the western sky and Elphaba Thropp would spend hers looking east, both of them under the same moon and both of them out of the other's reach.

But, the chorus line of this song diverged from the cruel hands of Fate a long time ago.

-<—>-

"Ordering a child to do your bidding?" Elphaba stepped out of the shadows of the throne room, cutting an imposing figure in her cape and hat, her broom a powerful staff in her hand.

Dorothy shrieked. "Jiminy Crickets! You're green!"

"Guards!" the Wizard's voice thundered, tinted with fear.

Elphaba flung a spell towards the doors. Magic buzzed and settled over the room, trapping sound inside. No one would hear them. None of the Gale Force would be rushing in here until she allowed it. With the silencing chant in place, she sent out another spell, into the vents and tunnels, to search the palace for a specific person and bring her here.

At long last, the reckoning was upon them. Elphaba could only hope this would not end with death.

She thrust her hands toward the mechanical head, the words of the Grimmerie falling past her lips. The metal creaked and groaned, gears crumpling and plates crushing under the force of gravity. A wind whipped through the room, rustling the shreds of the curtains draped around the head. With a yell, Elphaba ripped the head apart, pulling emerald cloths down and revealing the man, the simple, ordinary man, standing behind the curtain in his green suit with a microphone held in his hand.

"You're a — you're a man!" Dorothy exclaimed and that dog of hers yipped.

"I am the Wizard of Oz, girl," he snapped.

"So, prove it then," Elphaba challenged. She curled her fingers, an invisible force wrapping around the Wizard, yanking him off his pedestal, depositing him right in front of her and Dorothy. She pulled the Grimmerie out from her satchel and held it out to him, the cover of the book firmly closed. "Read it. Send her home. Show her just how much of a Wizard you are, Your Ozness."

"Elphaba," he said in a calming voice, his hands face up placatingly. "Come now. Let's be rational about this."

She ignored him and looked to the girl. "Go on, Miss Gale. Ask him to send you home."

Dorothy glanced between them, then down at the Grimmerie, then between them again. Her eyes were wide with confusion. She looked so young, far too young to be caught up in the middle of this.

"If you're so Great and Powerful," she said, "you should be able to help me."

"And I will," he told her, placing a hand over his heart. "But you see, this Wicked Witch here, she's stolen my magic book. I can't do magic without it."

"Then take it from her," Dorothy said. "She's offering it to you. Here—" She reached a hand out to Elphaba, who gladly handed the Grimmerie over. "Take it from me then. You said you would send me home, so send me home."

The Wizard was turning red, a furious flush staining his neck and face. Whether from frustration or from anger, Elphaba wasn't sure. He was being outwitted by a twelve year old.

"Oh! Wait. You wanted her broom." Dorothy turned to Elphaba and asked, very seriously, very nicely, "May I have your broom, Miss Wicked Witch? I'm not sure why you're called wicked. You seem perfectly nice."

The Wizard growled. He reached forward, whether to snatch the Grimmerie out of her hand or grab the broom or something else entirely was unclear. He didn't get the chance, for they were joined by another.

"Oh! Just in time!" a voice, melodious as a songbird in spring, sang.

Glinda traipsed into the throne room, sauntering out from one of the many hidden doors in the walls. She was wearing a ridiculous confection of pink tulle skirts, the gown glimmering, glittered gems shimmering on the line of her shoulders. She was free of her wand and crown, blonde hair like a waterfall of spun gold down her back.

The tension in Elphaba's chest unspooled a little bit at the sight of her, muscles loosening. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth but she schooled her features.

"Lady Glinda!" Dorothy exclaimed.

Elphaba thought she saw Glinda's eye twitch. "Miss Gale," the Good Witch replied stiffly, polite courtier smile firmly in place. "I see you've arrived."

"Glinda, call the guards!" the Wizard ordered. "Quickly!"

"I will do no such thing!" she chirped. "In fact, Your Ozness, there is a radio broadcast which is about to start! It will do you well to listen to it."

Glinda walked over to the Wizard's workshop, revealed from the tattered, fallen curtains. She located the radio on his table and fiddled around with the dials until she found the broadcast frequency she was looking for.

Nessa's voice filled the room, strong and sure and very much not dead.

"Citizens of Munchkinland, I am speaking to you from the safety of Kiamo Ko. Yesterday morning, an assassination attempt was carried out on my life, ordered by our Wizard himself! It appears as though the tension between Colwen Grounds and the palace hit a boiling point and his Ozness's solution was to take the Eminent out of the equation. The attempt was foiled by my sister, who received word of the assassination plot and acted quickly to remove me from —"

"NO!" the Wizard yelled, rushing for the radio, spinning the knobs, as though he could force the words away, force time to reverse.

Glinda moved back and returned to Elphaba and Dorothy, a little skip in her step. She put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "Miss Gale, why don't you and Dodo go wait outside, yes? I'll arrange for your safe return home."

Dorothy glanced over at the Wizard. "Is he still going to help me?"

Glinda laughed, the sound causing butterflies to swarm in Elphaba's stomach. Sweet Oz, now was not the time. She needed to get a grip on herself. "Don't you worry too much, dear. Go, wait in the hall. You'll be back to Kansas soon."

When the girl looked up at Elphaba, as though she was searching for some kind of assurance, she gave her a nod. Elphaba would get her home as soon as all of this was settled. It shouldn't be too hard. The Grimmerie would surely have a spell for it. Besides, Elphaba would need to find her again and get Nessa's slippers. She had no desire to face her sister's wrath if the child left Oz with the shoes.

With Dorothy safely out of the throne room, it was just them and the Wizard. Well, just them and the Wizard and—

"What in the name of Lurline was that announcement?" Morrible appeared like a whirlwind and, suddenly, time rewound, transporting them back to four years ago, with them all standing in this very room. That faithful day, which unravelled in a way none of them could have predicted, which led them here, to this moment, this day.

The Madame stopped short at the sight which greeted her, the destroyed Wizard head, Glinda in her splendour and Elphaba in her hat, standing side by side, while the Wizard himself was hunched over the radio with his head buried in his hands.

"Oscar?" Morrible called out to him.

"It's done," he muttered, his fingers digging into his hair. "It's done. It's all done. Everything. I'm ruined. This is — this is terrible. There is no fixing this."

"No, no, no, nothing is ruined," she hurried to correct him. "We have the Witch here! We'll get the guards to arrest her! We'll say this was all her doing. We'll turn it away from you. Guards!"

"They can't hear you," Elphaba said, idly tapping her fingers along the length of her broom. "Silencing spell."

Glinda clapped her hands together. "Would you two like to hear how this is going to go?"

"You—" Morrible's beady eyes narrowed on Glinda. "You said she was dead. You told us to use her!"

"Surely you're mistaken, Madame." Glinda batted her lashes innocently. "I'd never do such a thing."

Of course, she did. However, it was her word against theirs. And, as of right now, as of all these years Glinda had spent building up her image, thrilling the Ozians with her laugh and her smile and her sugary sweet sentiments, her word was worth much more. That was the power the palace put into Glinda's hands when they offered her a place in the Emerald City.

What was that newspaper headline again? GLINDA UPLAND: THE GOOD, THE GREAT & THE GORGEOUS.

Morrible's eyes flared. She waved her hands and shoved them forward, a blast of magic expelling out, heading straight for Glinda.

Elphaba cut between them and swung her broom to intercept the blow before it could do any damage, the magic ricocheting off and bouncing into the walls with a loud bang! Her gaze whipped to Glinda to make sure she was alright, that she was safe, that none of it came into contact with her.

There wasn't any visible damage. Only Glinda's heaving chest from the sudden fright, her wide eyes and the shaking shoulders she was trying valiantly to hide.

Elphaba swung back to Morrible, fury mounting within her. The Grimmerie droned, pages fluttering as Elphaba's magic coiled in the air. She stalked over, prowling like a panther with an eye on their prey, fully prepared to dismantle Morrible down to the very atoms of her body and scatter them across Oz, cursed to never reassemble into a solid form.

Glinda stopped her, pressing her hands against her chest. "Elphie — just, wait. Wait a clocktick."

Elphaba halted, still looking at Morrible, fingers twitching at her side to do something more than just stand there. The lights in the throne room buzzed, flickered, dimming and glowing, dimming and glowing. The deepest, darkest corners of Elphaba's self would find pleasure in making Morrible suffer, in making her feel even a fraction of the pain she'd put Glinda through.

Morrible was assessing them, eyes looking back and forth with a critical gaze. Elphaba bore witness to the gloriously delicious moment the realization crashed down upon her, the moment when all the pieces clicked into place at last, where she realized that this wasn't an abrupt shift in allegiances from Glinda, a quick flip of a coin falling on heads instead of tails.

All those coordinated attacks Elphaba executed, all those big events she used as distractions, all those shipments she raided and Animals she freed, all the structured, planned chaos she had wrought.

All that information came from one place, from one of the highest offices in Oz.

"Well, Miss Glinda," Morrible sneered. "It appears there was a brain somewhere inside of that pretty little blonde head of yours after all."

"You always underestimated her," Elphaba snapped. "That was your mistake."

Glinda, once she was sure Elphaba wouldn't kill Morrible where she stood, removed her hands from her chest and turned around, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"No," Glinda said, standing tall and sure, nothing like the girl who once begged to get into a sorcery seminar in university. "Her mistake was thinking I loved the attention more than I love you." Her head tilted to the side appraisingly. "You could have crowned me the Queen of Oz, and do you know the first thing I would have done with that kind of power? I would have brought Elphaba home."

Morrible scoffed at the sentiment and opened her mouth, ready to fire off another round of creative insults.

"What do you want?" the Wizard asked tiredly, interrupting the brewing battle. He pulled himself up from his pitiful heap and looked over at them. His hair was in disarray. His pristine suit was wrinkled. "You've won. So, what do you want?"

"You're going to leave Oz," Elphaba said, all too willing to cut to the chase. "You're going to get into that balloon of yours and you're going to go back to whatever world it is you came from. And you're never going to return."

"Exile. Effective immediately!" Glinda smiled with delight. "Now! Scurry off! You have an hour. A clocktick more and Elphie will fling you away with her magic."

He stood there for a second, taking in the throne room, his destroyed creation, this place he had ruled from for all of Elphaba's life, slowly looking over every inch, every wall and tile, gaze sweeping over the miniature of Oz in the corner, over the mural of himself. Eventually, his eyes returned to her and there was something resigned and solemn within them.

"I meant it you know," he said and, for perhaps the first time, she heard something genuinely earnest in his tone. "We could have been wonderful."

"I don't want your definition of wonderful," Elphaba replied. "Don't come back. If you do, exile wouldn't be your second sentence."

He sighed and nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. Without another word, without a backward glance, he left, making for the corridor which would lead him to the hot air balloon that brought him to Oz all those years ago.

When he was out of their sight, Morrible finally appeared to understand what was happening. Desperation stung the air around her. "Now girls, I know we have our problems but—"

Elphaba dropped the silencing spell for this next part. They couldn't exile Morrible as well. She was too powerful to be left to her own devices. Elphaba would have to look into how to magic proof a room.

"Guards!" Glinda called. There was a glimmer in her eyes. There was no doubt that she would find some enjoyment in this part. "Madame! Have you given thought to how you'd fare in captivity?"

"Glinda—" Morrible attempted.

"It is my personal and professional opinion that you wouldn't fare well," Glinda commented airily, tangling a golden curl around her index finger. "Certainly not without those dramatic updos of your hair. But alas, when you conspire to kill a government official, especially one as high ranking as the Eminent Thropp—"

The Gale Force burst into the throne room. There were five officers, all of whom did a double take at the sight of Elphaba casually standing behind Glinda the Good, broom and hat and cape hanging from her shoulders. All five made for Elphaba, but Glinda tittered.

"Not her!" Glinda motioned her hand towards Morrible. "Her! Find a cell in Southstairs! Take her away!"

Two officers grabbed the older sorceress and hauled her out of the room, Morrible fighting against them every step of the way. The other three tilted their heads in confusion, hands hovering over the holsters of their guns as they looked between Elphaba and Glinda.

"Uh, Your Goodness?" a brave soul spoke up. "What of the Witch?"

"Hmm?" Glinda hummed, as though she'd completely forgotten that the Gale Force's number one job for these last few years had been find Elphaba and bring her in, dead or alive. "Oh! Yes, no. Leave her be and tell the rest of them that as well. Touch a hair on her head and I will deal with you personally. Now shoo, boys. Shoo, shoo! Much to be done. Much to discuss. You know how it is, the governing of Oz."

"Lady Glinda—"

"Your Goodness—"

"Ta-ta-ta!" She clapped her hands together. "Out with you! Leave us!"

They lingered for a clocktick more. When they realized she wasn't going to change those orders, they quickly bowed and marched off, shutting the throne room door behind themselves.

Silence descended. Elphaba could feel that tremendous weight finally starting to bleed out of her. It was done. The Wizard was gone. Morrible was locked up. And, somehow, someway, all the people she loved and cared about were still alive, still breathing, still safe.

Her eyes found Glinda, who stood across from her, foot tapping impatiently, hands smoothening down the front of her gown, adjusting her hair, picking at invisible loose threads.

It had become something of a novelty, seeing her, talking to her. It had become something stolen, something treasured, their too short secret nights. The distance between them had been like a impassable chasm all these years, that faithful red string knotted around their arms, their wrists, their fingers, pulled so taunt and tight that it left bruising imprints on their skin.

Yet, in the span of barely more than an hour, the chasm dissolved into air, turned into ash on the wind, ice in a puddle. Their red string of fate was no longer cutting into their bones. It slackened into something breathable, into a caress of soft woollen threads instead of the thick rope of a noose around their necks.

Glinda was right there, tangible and real and in front of her, nervously trying to do away with the non-existent flaws in her appearance. She wasn't a ghost, wasn't a spectral apparition about to slip through her fingers.

Elphaba could reach out and touch her.

Elphaba was finally allowed to reach out and touch her.

"What?" Glinda asked, pivoting on a heel to look at her. She was fiddling with her fingers now. "What is it, darling? I know I'm pretty, but you're staring an awful lot."

Her mind snapped back to the top of the tower, to that dusty old attic they had found themselves in when they ran from the palace guards, to the moment where Elphaba grasped the broom in her hands and held it out to Glinda and dared to dream about a different world, one they would build at each other's side.

Together we're unlimited.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Elphaba was moving before she realized, one step forward, two steps forward, three steps forward, as though she had become magnetised and the north pole to her south pole was the woman before her. Glinda was moving as well and suddenly, they were colliding into each other like a pair of stars forming a supernova.

Elphaba's arms wound around her waist, lifting her into a twirl. Her magic, responding to the overflowing happiness filling her veins, whirled around them, levitating them both into the air, spinning them in a slow, gravity defying waltz. Lights shimmered into being, small, miniscule pink and green lights, twinkling and glowing as the magic swayed them through the throne room to an unheard harmony.

Glinda squealed, laughed, clutched her shoulders. The sound was joy itself to her ears, sparking every single nerve ending within her. She could listen to that sound for the rest of her life. She intended to listen to that sound for the rest of this life, and the next, and every one to follow. "Elphie you cad!"

She clutched her close to keep her from falling, kept the lengths of their bodies pressed together, arms tight around her waist, hands splayed over her lower back. She could feel every warm inch of her intimately, could feel every breath she took from the way her chest rose and fell against her own. Her hair tickled Elphaba's collarbones and her perfume made her dizzy, her eyes soft and gentle and adoring.

"You are an absolute marvel, Miss Glinda Arduenna Upland," Elphaba murmured, brushing a kiss to the peak of her cheekbone, the corner of her eye, the bridge of her nose.

"What did I do?" Glinda asked.

"This," Elphaba said, jutting her chin around them, gesturing to all they've managed to accomplish today, over all these long years. "You did this."

"No." Glinda shook her head, arms draped over Elphaba's shoulders. "No, dearest. We did this. We did this together."

Together, we'll be the greatest team there's ever been.

Elphaba rested her forehead on Glinda's. "I love you."

Glinda smiled, wide, bright, beautiful enough to pull the moon and the stars and the sun to their knees. "I love you too."

There's no fight we cannot win.

-<—>-

"Oz," Boq muttered, nudging one half of the head with the tip of his boot. He turned and tossed a glance to Elphie. "You did this?"

She nodded, her arms folded across her chest. Glinda could feel her gaze on the side of her head. It was making a flush crept up her neck. Lurline, Elphie didn't know how to be subtle in the presence of polite company. Glinda would have to talk to her about that. They could not be attending state dinners in the not so distant future and have Elphaba spending the night undressing her with her eyes in front of the members of the Hall of Approval and various mayors and Eminents and Vinkan royals. The papers would surely have a thing or five to say about that.

"Right. Remind me to not piss you off," Boq said. "So, what now?" He was remarkably calm for someone who had inhaled a great deal of information about the governing body of Oz in a very small span of time.

"Isn't that what we're gathered here to figure out?" Nessarose asked.

As soon as Elphaba's magic lowered them to the floor, Glinda had sent her off to fetch their friends from Kiamo Ko. She needed to make an address soon, preferably within the next hour or two, to let the Ozians know of the new — and sudden — changes in government. Their head of state exiled. Their press secretary jailed.

Fiyero and Nessa could speak with the authority of Vinkus and Munchkinland, so it was best to get their insights on the matter. Between the five of them in this impromptu meeting in the throne room, they should be able to figure something out.

"I'm still amazed at what you two — well three —" Fiyero tossed towards Nessa — "Accomplished. I mean, this was no easy feat. You oust the Wizard."

"Yes, no need to rehash it," Elphaba said, shifting uncomfortably. She never did appreciate an overflowing of compliments. "What are we telling the people?"

"I see no problem with a version of the truth," Nessa replied.

"A version?" Elphie raised an eyebrow, ever a patron of the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"We can't very well tell them you faked my death at Glinda's behest, Fabala," Nessa said.

Oh, right. Yes, that could not, under any circumstances, be made public knowledge. Plotting to fake the assassination of a government official was far different from discovering a conspiracy to assassinate a government official and rushing to aid said government official. No, no, no. That information was not to leave this room.

They would have to find some explanation for the pair of legs which was found sticking out from under the house without implicating Glinda. Maybe Elphie cast the illusion to make the palace think Nessa died in order to keep her out of danger? Spin something about a concerned sister. Hmm.

"So yes, a version," Nessa continued when Elphie didn't offer any protest other than the concerned furrowing of her eyebrows. "I already said he tried to have me killed. Lead with that. Call him a fraud. I'm sure the Animals would come forward with their own stories to corroborate."

"The truth — a version of the truth is not the problem," Boq commented. He shifted his eyes between Elphaba and Glinda. "It's who it's coming from."

"You think they wouldn't believe us?" Glinda passed her hands down her skirts. It was an old, nervous tick of hers, to fix her appearance even when it didn't need fixing.

"You two have been branded as opposites for a long time," he explained. "Saying the Wicked Witch of the West saved her sister because she received a warning from Glinda the Good? Would you believe that?"

"Why not?" Glinda prompted, wanting to hear his reasoning before the idea was shut down fully. "It doesn't take a detective to know Elphie and I went to Shiz together, to know we roomed together. Why wouldn't she believe someone she once lived with? Someone she was friends with? Someone who is also friends with Nessie?"

"You lived in the palace with Morrible and the Wizard for four years," Boq pointed out pragmatically. "Did you ever believe them?"

Hell and Oz. He was, unfortunately, making sense. Their school days alone couldn't be the foundation.

"So, we prove it then," Nessa said. "We prove that they've been working together to get rid of that dictator."

"Do we have proof?" Fiyero asked. "And I don't just mean the honest word of our lovely charmed circle. I mean something tangible. Something we can show them."

"Yes, we do," Elphie said. "Or well, I have these —" She muttered a spell and waved her hand. A stack of paper appeared on the ground. A towering stack of letters, Glinda's letters to her. Every single last one of them, the pale pink paper a trademark of Glinda's. There would be no doubt in anyone's mind who these came from if they were shown to the public.

"That could work." Fiyero drummed his fingers against his bicep as he thought, tilting his head to the side, an errant strand of hair falling across his face. "A small announcement for now, acknowledging the Wizard's actions, talking about what happened over the last couple days and then—"

"More information to follow in the coming weeks, release the content of some of these letters," Glinda said, nodding slowly. It was all coming together in her mind, a draft of the announcement she could make. They wouldn't hand out the information in all of the letters. Some of those words were secret, loving, meant for the eyes of one person. They'd have to comb through them to find what was appropriate and relevant.

"We can ask Hedge for a statement too," Elphaba remarked. "He delivered my letters to Glinda." All of which were hidden in a locked box behind the dresses in her closet.

"Hedge?" Boq asked.

"A Falcon," Nessa told him. "He's Fabala's friend. He helped deliver her letters to me and Glinda. He'd vouch for her, as would the Resistance." She turned to her sister. "Munchkinland will vouch for you."

"So will Vinkus," Fiyero promised. "We'll turn the tide."

Elphaba looked to her then. There was a fragile sheen in her eyes, as though she couldn't yet allow herself to believe Oz would welcome her back. All these years of being scorned in the papers and by the people, being scorned by Glinda's own words at times, even when they both knew she didn't mean an ounce of it, had taken a heavy toll. 

She wrapped one of her arms around Elphaba's, lacing their fingers together with the other. "I said I'd bring you home, right?"

"Come what may and hell to pay," Elphaba said softly, recalling her words from that night in the meadow just outside the city, the promise Glinda made to her.

Glinda kissed her shoulder. "Oz-damn whoever gets in my way."

"So, it's decided then?" Boq checked. "Announcement now, information to follow."

"There is also the matter of that little child who is wearing my slippers," Nessa grumbled. "And our new Throne Minister."

Glinda's eyes brightened. "Oh, I have a couple ideas for that."

-<—>-

"My fellow Ozians —" Glinda was adorned with her crown and her wand, standing on the podium in front of the Emerald Palace. Her voice was amplified through the courtyard and broadcast over the radio to all regions of Oz. Nessa and Fiyero were stationed right behind her, Nessa in a fine dress and Fiyero in his Vinkan blues, that horrid Gale Force uniform tossed away. Boq lingered just off to the side.

Though, perhaps, the person who had everyone's attention, was Elphaba, standing on Glinda's left, right next to Dorothy. Every eye in the courtyard was trained on Elphaba, a good mix of confusion and fright thick in the air.

Elphaba had tried to get out of being here, had tried to argue it was better she stay in the palace while Glinda made her announcement but, Glinda was having none of that. She wanted her here, she wanted to prove that there was nothing for the people of Oz to be frightened of when they saw her.

" — The Wizard is gone," Glinda was saying when Elphaba refocused on the speech. "Upon the reveal of his conspiracy to assassinate the Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland, he left the city in his hot air balloon. As of now, we don't know where he is going, and should he ever return, he would be dealt with as according to Ozian law. His co-conspirator, Press Secretary Morrible has been arrested and is awaiting judgement."

Glinda shifted a little. Her hands fiddled with her wand. "I wish I could stand here and tell you that was the depth of his crimes but, I'm afraid I cannot. These many years he has forced Animals into imprisonment, he has lied about his ability to read our Grimmerie—" That earned a gasp from the crowd, hands flying up to cover mouths. "And he has ordered his guard to hunt someone who was only ever trying to do good."

Her eyes found Elphaba's. They were glistening.

"Elphaba Thropp is not the Wicked Witch you think she is," Glinda implored. "She saved her sister without question when she received my warning. She rescued the Animals. She helped me to remove a man who was greedy for power and nothing more from this palace. Oz owes her an apology for the mistreatment which has taken place all this time." A tear escaped from the corner of Glinda's eye. "I owe her an apology, for all the words I spoke while knowing they weren't true."

Elphaba unconsciously took half a step forward before she remembered herself. Her hand curled into a fist at her side. She never did enjoy seeing Glinda cry.

"There is much, much more to be said about today, about the last four years," Glinda informed them. "Over the coming weeks, the palace will release statements. From myself, from Elphaba, from Animals and officials."

There's murmurs going over the crowd. They were regarding Elphaba with something like curiosity. The confusion was still there but, that shaking terror from before Glinda started speaking was dialled back a couple notches. Miraculously, they were believing her. However did she manage?

"Now, Miss Gale," Glinda said, turning to face the girl. "I promised you the Wizard would send you home. I failed. But, while he may not have been gifted with magic, someone else is."

Oh. So, that's why Glinda wanted her out here. Because what says 'not wicked' better than helping a twelve year old get home?

As though sensing her thoughts, the Grimmerie flew out of her satchel. The crowd gasped and awed as the book unfurled itself, the pages flipping to the spell which would allow Elphaba to help her.

"Is this going to hurt?" Dorothy asked nervously. In her arms, Toto was making soft noises.

"Magic isn't meant to hurt," Elphaba said, her hand hovering over the spell, eyes reading over the words in that strange, foreign language which rolled off her tongue naturally. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. "Yes. Please. Send me home."

Elphaba started to chant, her magic thrumming in the air of the courtyard, sweeping over the crowd. Her hands flew into motion, conducting the flow of the spell, weaving it around Dorothy like it was a braid, threading the strands together until it was complete.

When the chanting finished, Dorothy peaked an eye open. "This is not Kansas."

Elphaba chuckled, closing the Grimmerie. "Click your heels together three times. And best wishes to you, Miss Gale."

"Thank you, Miss Wit— Miss Thropp," Dorothy quickly corrected. Closing her eyes again, she tapped her heels together once, twice, thrice. Upon the third tap, her body shimmered and disappeared, leaving behind nothing but Nessie's silver slippers.

"Thank the Unnamed God," Nessa muttered.

The crowd abruptly broke into applause, startling Elphaba. Her eyes whipped towards them, shock colouring her face. They were cheering? They were cheering.

Glinda laughed ecstatically and clapped. "Well, citizens of Oz, it appears as though we do have a new sorcerer after all!"

Elphaba flushed a deeper shade of green from all the attention.

"I know there are many other matters you have questions about," Glinda resumed her speech. "One such matter may be who is the current governing official. The Hall of Approval will have an emergency session with the leaders of Oz this week to decide what is to be done. However, it is of my opinion, as well as that of Prince Fiyero and the Eminent Thropp, that Oz has not had a say in who is leading them. Thus, we will put forth the idea of you, the people, choosing who should hold the title of Throne Minister."

Elphaba could see it, like one of her visions, she could see it clearly. The way they were looking at Glinda up on that podium, the way they appreciated her willingness to stand here and talk to them about the things which were happening behind closed doors and in the darkest corners of the land, the way she was willing to admit her fault.

Oz already knew who they wanted as their Throne Minister.

"Thank you," Glinda completed and stepped back.

She caught Elphaba's eye and every bone in Elphaba's body wanted to reach for her but, they were still standing before the crowd, and they'd given the Ozians enough of a shock for today. So, she restrained herself.

After all, they had time.

-<—>-

When Glinda led Elphaba into her apartments later, it occurred to her that Elphie had never entered through the front door. She always came from the balcony, broom arcing over the balustrade, always slinking inside like a thief in the night, shrouded in shadow and secrecy, both of them fearful of every little noise happening outside. Was it a guard? Was it a Flying Monkey? Was it Morrible?

Now, Elphaba walked in like she wasn't afraid, like nothing in here was suddenly going to jump out and take her away, bind her hands behind her back and tie her to a post in the courtyard and light her on fire. The days of that happening had just ended.

Elphie leaned the broom against the wall near the front door and took off her boots, stacking them neatly beside Glinda's pair of heels she'd kicked off unceremoniously.

"What?" Elphaba asked, feeling Glinda's eyes on her. She closed the distance between them and Glinda thoroughly enjoyed the sight of her, in her living room, leisurely walking over, one step in front of the other.

"Nothing," she said when, truthfully, the answer should have been everything.

Elphaba hummed. She reached up and took the crown from Glinda's head, gently removing it from the stubborn locks of hair which caught in the wirework. She turned it in her hands, the soft light in the apartments catching on the gems embedded in the metal. For a clocktick, Elphie appraised the crown, eyes drifting over the concentric circles woven together to create the design.

"Where are you doing, darling?" Glinda asked.

"Helping you take Her Goodness off," Elphie said, putting the crown aside and taking her hand, leading her into the bedroom.

Once inside, Elphaba flicked her wrist and the lights came on, bathing the room in a dull amber. She grasped her waist and turned her around, her back to Elphie's front. Glinda felt her fingers in her hair, hands pulling silver pins out, using her magic to float them over to their designated box on her vanity. Blonde locks tumbled free from the half-up twist she had gathered them into before the speech earlier, like a river of gold flowing over her shoulders. Elphaba carded her fingers through her hair, loosening the curls and Glinda almost purred from the sensation, head tilting back into the soothing ministrations.

Elphaba found the complicated ties of the gown, slowly but deftly untying the strings until the garment hung open at the back. Glinda shimmied out of it, left in her corset and her thin shift. She moved her hair to one side, baring the ties of the corset for Elphaba to undo next.

There was something devastatingly vulnerable about the way Elphaba was undressing her, pulling one string loose at a time, undoing every individual loop of the ties with sure hands. Glinda hadn't felt like this before, raw and tender and torn open just from the simple act of someone helping her shed the weight of the day, the weight of Glinda the Good.

The corset followed the gown to the floor, breath returning to her lungs. Time suspended for a heart beat, Glinda standing still with Elphaba behind her, hands just brushing over her waist. Glinda turned in her arms and Elphaba met her eyes, twirling a blonde curl around her finger.

"There you are," Elphaba murmured. "My sweet."

Glinda blushed. "Elphie." Her voice was split apart, thick with emotion.

"Hmm?" Elphaba hummed lightly. She, unlike Glinda, was wrapped in all her Witch's garb, which simply wouldn't do.

Glinda reached for her cape, pulling it free, draping the garment over the chest at the foot of her bed. She pulled the hat off next and held it in her hands, passing her fingers along the brim. How far they'd come from those two girls at Crage Hall, from jealous Galinda Upland who gave an unknowing Elphaba Thropp the hat as a prank, as a terribly mean joke. In many ways, the hat and the cape tracked the progression of their friendship, of their relationship. Galinda had meant for the hat to be something laughed at. Glinda had meant for the cape to be a source of warmth and safety.

"You need something to sleep in," she said, putting the hat on top of the cape. She stepped away and threw open her closet, digging through the drawers until she found it, one of Elphaba's old nightgowns, the shapeless dark frock she favoured.

"You still have that?" Elphie's voice was soft.

Glinda laid it on her bed. "I still have everything."

She ran her hands over the shoulders of Elphaba's coat, down the lapels. She snuck her hands inside the fabric and pushed it off her shoulders, throwing it onto her desk chair. She found the thin, fraying elastic holding Elphaba's braid together next, pulling it free. Elphaba's hair fell loose and wild. Glinda ran a hand through it, pushing it back from her face, hand lingering along her cheek.

Sweet Oz. When was the last time Glinda saw her with her hair undone? Shiz?

Standing there, without the cape and coat and hat, with her hair hanging down her shoulders, she looked nothing like the Wicked Witch.

She just looked like her Elphie. Her Elphie, with that pretty emerald toned skin and dark brows and perpetually broody air.

"Would you like to shower?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba laughed quietly. "Are you trying to say something, sweetheart?"

Glinda scowled. Lurline forbid she offered a commodity not so easily found while one was living on the run from the state. She smacked Elphaba's shoulder with the back of her hand. "You annoy me."

Elphie, still chuckling, dropped a kiss to Glinda's cheek as she grabbed the nightgown and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower started a clocktick later and already, steam was curling along the edges of the door.

Glinda left Elphaba to her shower, going about her own nightly routine. Washing off her make-up in the kitchen sink since Elphie was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth there as well, turning off the lights in the living room, removing her earrings and placing them in her jewellery box before running a brush through her hair. She didn't bother changing out of the shift. It was silk and cool and comfortable. She'd sleep just fine in it.

The shower turned off as Glinda was pulling the blankets back. Elphaba appeared in the doorway, using a towel to dry her hair. She hung the towel on one of the hooks drilled into the bathroom door and just, stood there, shoulder propped on the frame, looking at Glinda.

"Do you still sleep on the left?" Glinda asked, voice quiet in the night air. The question called to mind the countless times they slept in her bed back at Shiz. Elphie slept on the left. Glinda slept on the right. It was another thing about them that simply worked.

"Do you still hog the blankets?" Elphie teased.

Glinda rolled her eyes, but there wasn't any heat to it. Her heart was far too full in the moment. She slid onto the bed and patted the empty space on her left in invitation.

"I don't know." Elphaba tapped her chin. Her eyes were dancing. "Maybe I'll take the couch—"

"Elphaba Thropp, if you don't get in this bed—" Glinda growled.

Elphaba laughed some more, grinning. She looked so happy right now, so light. Glinda could cry.

Elphie crossed over and took her place, slipping her legs under the covers and falling back on the pillows. She turned onto her side to face Glinda, one arm sliding under her pillow while the other lingered in the small space between them, palm face up and open. A wordless question.

Glinda nestled into the blankets. She reached forward and trailed a finger over the lines of Elphaba's palm, mapping their flow, the way they snaked like small rivulets over her skin.

"Has anyone ever read your palms?" she asked.

"No," Elphie said. "Why?"

"Just curious. What do you think it says?"

"It's probably just your name."

Glinda groaned, hiding in her pillow. Her face was flaming. "Elphie! Stop making me blush!"

"But you look so pretty like this, my sweet," Elphaba mused.

"Wicked, mean, green thing," Glinda grumbled, peaking at her with a single eye. She was still grinning. Glinda couldn't even be mad about it.

Their fingers intertwined, Elphaba's thumb brushing over the back of Glinda's palm. Their breathing started to even out, all the excitement and stress of the day, of the last four years really, starting to catch up with them.

"Sweet dreams, Elphie," Glinda mumbled, halfway to her own dreamlands.

"Goodnight, Glinda."

-<—>-

Glinda opened her eyes to the faint morning light pooling gold along the edges of the curtains. She shifted against the sheets, pressing harder into her pillows as her mind flooded with all the events of yesterday. The Wizard and Morrible and Dorothy and Elphie —

Her eyes widened, heart kicking up a notch in her chest, the weight over her waist suddenly much clearer. Glinda looked down, looked at the green arm slung casually, lazily, comfortably over her waist. There were gentle breaths hitting the back of her neck, steady warmth emanating behind her.

She turned over, as quietly and as slowly as she possibly could. She needed to see to believe it, needed to make sure this wasn't another dream. Yesterday sure felt like a dream. Everything they'd been working towards for all these years, culminating at last. Glinda still wasn't sure it all happened.

But, the sight of Elphaba, loose with sleep, lips parted in a tiny O, dark hair falling into her face and fanning across the pillows; the sight of Elphaba, tucked under blankets and into Glinda's nest of pillows, their legs tangled in the sheets, Elphaba's hand curled over the curve of her waist; the sight of Elphaba before her, slack with peace, wasn't a dream.

Glinda's breath caught in her throat, eyes longingly taking her in. She reached out with a shaking hand, traced the very tips of her fingers over the line of her jaw, up the peak of her cheekbones, the arch of her eyebrow. She kept the touch featherlight, a mere ghost of a brush, as though if she pressed too hard, Elphaba would dissolve into dust, melt into a puddle of water.

She didn't. She was real. She was solid. She wasn't a spectre from the darkest corners of Glinda's mind, the brightest corners of her wildest, most hopeful, most indulgent fantasies. She was here, at long last, in Glinda's room, in her bed, in her life. She was here to stay.

Glinda smoothened her thumb along Elphaba's cheek, drawing a drowsy hum from the depths of her throat. She held still, watching Elphaba shift awake, watching her nose deeper into the pillows as her mind woke. The hand on her waist flexed, curving tighter, fingers holding Glinda close more intently.

Elphaba's eyes fluttered open, blinking, the fog of sleep clearing slowly. Her gaze met Glinda's.

A smile bloomed across her face and Elphaba nudged closer, curling their bodies closer, leaning their foreheads together. "Good morning, my sweet," Elphie murmured, voice raspy from dreams.

What a joy that would be, to wake up beside you.

Glinda laughed, broken, real, so unbelievably joyous she was going to cry, tears gathering in her eyes. She cradled Elphaba's face in both hands and brought their mouths together, tasting the salt of her own happiness as Elphie returned the kiss with equal fervour, feeling a fundamental piece of her very soul slot into place at long last, some cosmic pendulum swinging into equilibrium.

She kissed her slowly, sweetly, as though she had all the time in world because, for once, time was at their feet, sprawling before them with all the wonder of the future. For once, time was theirs. 

They broke apart a clocktick or a century later, Glinda on her back and Elphaba hovering over her, eyes brilliant, grin foolish, dark hair falling like a curtain around them. Glinda couldn't keep her hands to herself, tracing the planes of Elphaba's face, the line of her shoulders, across her collarbones, down her arms, through her hair.

"You're here," Glinda whispered for the sake of saying it outloud, for the sake of needing to hear it with her own voice.

Elphaba's grin widened into something incandescent. She tucked loose blonde curls behind Glinda's ear and leaned down to kiss her again with the same ease as before, the same surety, her hand a grounding warmth on Glinda's waist.

"I'm here," Elphaba said like a promise, like a dare to the gods, a proclamation to anyone who tried to carve a wedge between them again. "Today, and all of our tomorrows. The rest of this life and the next." There's pure devotion in her eyes, as though she were a supplicant at Glinda's altar.

Glinda giggled, smiling, unable to stop smiling. She laced her fingers at the nape of Elphaba's neck and pressed their lips together. She tasted like a warm loaf of fresh bread and rose tea steeped in a cup, like a gentle fire roaring in a living room hearth and a fleece blanket wrapped around your shoulders, like lit cedarwood candles and a bubble filled bathtub after a long day, like the scent of cherry blossoms in a spring garden somewhere in the soft, rolling knolls of Frottica. She tasted like home.

Glinda was going to spend the rest of the day kissing her. She was going to spend the rest of her life kissing her.

"Tell me again," Glinda entreated. "Tell me again. Tell me until I'm sick of it."

"I'm here, my sweet." Elphie lowered her forehead to Glinda's, their eyes closed, their hearts and breathing in synch. "I'm here."