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Glinda whimpered in her sleep, tears plastered her cheeks as her bottom lip quivered. Her chest ached, her breathes heaved, and her hold on the blanket was white knuckled. Fear clutched her heart, pain and betrayal radiated in her bones. She woke with a start, nausea clawing at her stomach as bile tore its way up her throat. Dry heaving, the politician collapsed on her bedroom floor.
The wooden boards were cold against her sweaty palms. As tears decorated the floor, Glinda fought back to her feet. Stumbling, she leaned against the wall. Reaching for her closet door she threw it open with little care. Under normal circumstances, Glinda would have put more effort into her attire. She’d have made herself presentable from all angles. Instead, she pieced something together and forced it over her body without regard for its wrinkles or folds.
Sliding on a pair of heels, the good witch ventured out of her large palace like home. Still fighting back bile, Glinda staggered down the streets of Oz. Her heels clicked a steady rhythm as cold air soothed her sick stomach. Slowly, she came back to herself aware that her dreams were responsible for the mess she’d become.
Swallowing tightly, Glinda turned down an alleyway, sidling up to a bar that she knew all too well. Ducking inside, she made her way to the counter. Though others tried to greet her, she avoided eye contact. The munchkin man at the bar regarded her with sympathy.
“Another rough night, Miss Glinda?” He asked, rubbing a clean rag through a glass.
“Yes,” Glinda croaked, resting her chin in her hand. Her well manicured nails stood out in the bar’s green under-lighting.
“I know you miss her, but you’re letting this grief eat you alive. It’s not good for yer health,” he warned, placing a glass in front of Glinda. He made her usual, a splash of vodka, some raspberry thrown in, a bit of pink glitter, and a swirly straw. It was strong, but Glinda needed something strong or she’d be unable to sleep later.
“I know, Julius,” Glinda sighed, beautiful brown eyes downcast. “I just…I can’t help it.”
“You loved her, your grief speaks to that. She may be a Wicked Witch but if she was a good friend at all, she’d want you to be happy,” Julius smiled thinly, patting Glinda’s slender hand. The touch was comforting as Glinda sipped mindlessly at her drink. She stared at the plethora of bottles behind the counter, trying to determine which one was her favorite.
She was so lost in thought she almost missed the straw man sidling up beside her. Fiyero took off his hat, setting it in the seat beside him as he leaned heavily on the counter. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the scarecrow turned to Glinda. He observed her red puffy eyes, the rawness of her nose from crying, and how horribly thin she’d become over the past two years.
“Oh, Glinda,” he sighed, resting a hand over hers. “I miss her too.”
“No. You don’t,” Glinda countered, staring intently at her pink drink. She could feel her bottom lip trembling again. Feel the tears welling in her eyes. She hated crying in front of people. The only one who’d ever seen her weep was Elphaba.
“I do,” Fiyero insisted.
“You’re never at her grave. You don’t even know where I buried her,” Glinda croaked, brow furrowing as her grief turned to anger. “I change her flowers every week while you hide away in the Outer Woods hoping one day she’ll walk back through your front door. At least I’m doing something.”
Fiyero pursed his lips. His Adam’s Apple bobbed like he wanted to say something. He refrained, turning to Julius and ordering a drink. The two former friends and lovers sat on stiff silence.
Glinda went home late that night, alcohol driving her to sleep.
***
After four years of Elphaba’s absence, Glinda’s grief had yet to subside. She was wallowing in despair that couldn’t be ignored anymore. There were days she was bed ridden by sadness. Nights she couldn’t sleep without seeing Elphaba’s demise play out in front of her. There was a hole in her chest so deep and raw it would never heal.
She sat at her desk in the living room, hunched over and quite unbecoming. Her hair was askew, her makeup a day old, and her clothes far too wrinkled to be presentable.
Glinda scribbled furiously, writing fervently back to Fiyero. The man had moved farther into the Outer Woods, disappearing from Oz entirely. He wrote frequently to Glinda, checking in on her and making sure she was okay but Glinda wasn’t okay.
Trembling, Glinda set down her quill and leaned back in her seat. She listened to the rain outside. Elphaba always loved thunder. She could imagine the wicked witch’s smile as dark clouds roiled overhead. Glinda used to hate thunder, but now she craved it. The feeling of percussion coursing through her was a reminder that she was still alive. That someone was still able to mourn Elphaba.
Biting at her bottom lip, Glinda felt the familiar tug of loss as she reminisced about her time at Shiz. About her time with Elphaba. Lost in thought, the blond missed the first set of urgent knocking. It wasn’t until the second round of loud banging that she startled to her feet. Tilting her head to the side, Glinda approached the large front doors.
With a grunt, she unlatched the heavy metal lock and pulled back the solid oak door. Fiyero stood there, drenched from head to toe and shivering. Behind him was a person dressed in all black. Likely one of his friends he’d decided to smuggle into the city.
“Fiyero, my goodness what are you doing?” Glinda asked, momentarily forgetting her own pain to pull the man inside. “Here, sit by the fire. You poor thing.”
Fiyero chuckled softly, closing the door behind him as Glinda stacked logs in the fire place. It was weird seeing her so unkempt and frazzled. The last time he was in Oz she had herded out together more than this.
“I’ll dry out,” Fiyero insisted. “You should sit. We have a lot to talk about.”
“We do?” Glinda asked, batting her eyelashes as she pointed her wand at the fire. With a flick of the wrist a small lick of fire set the logs ablaze.
“Yes,” Fiyero nodded, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. A lot I have to confess.”
“If you’re here to tell me you love me, I’m not interested,” Glinda remarked, grabbing a blanket and slinging it around Fiyero’s shoulders.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Fiyero chuckled. “Have a seat, would you? I don’t need you to fuss over a scarecrow like me.”
Glinda nodded, moving to sit in a plush pink chair. Its high back almost made it look like a thrown. Glinda sat, one leg crossed, the other slightly off center. She sat like the perfect lady. The perfect politician.
“Your friend, who are they?” Glinda asked, nodding at the shrouded person standing awkwardly nearby. “Do they need anything? Are you both hungry?”
“No, no, we’re quite alright,” Fiyero insisted, taking Glinda’s hand in his as he sat beside the fire. “They can’t be seen here. I was escorting them through Oz and out the other side. It just so happened we passed by and I thought now was a good time to talk.”
“It’s the middle of the night Fiyero, when is that ever a good time to talk?” Glinda asked, arching a well sculpted eyebrow. “Well, go on. Whatever it is, spit it out.”
Fiyero nodded, leaning back in his seat as water dribbled from his hat. He frowned in thought, considering his options before speaking outright. “Elphaba is alive.”
“Don’t be mean, Fiyero. That isn’t funny,” Glinda glared, face scrunching up in distaste as she crossed her arms.
“I’m not being funny, Glinda. She’s been alive this entire time,” Fiyero insisted.
“And how would you know that?” Glinda scoffed, tears welling in her eyes for rhetorical second time that night. “If you’re drunk and this is some kind of sick joke, you can leave. I don’t want you here.”
“Glinda, listen to me! It’s not a joke,” Fiyero pleaded, rushing to his feet to kneel before the pink clad girl. “She’s been living in the Outer Woods. With me. We ran away together. Things…things didn’t work out between us but I need someone to take care of her. Someone to look after her.”
“How dare you!” Glinda cried, pushing Fiyero away as tears tumbled down her cheeks. “You expect me to believe that? That she wouldn’t have written? That she’d leave me alone to die in grief? That’s not Elphaba. That’s not my Elphie.”
As snot threatened to spill out of Glinda’s nose, she retreated to the kitchen, grabbing a handkerchief. Fiyero remained on the floor where he’d toppled over. He looked at Glinda with wide, distraught eyes.
“Glinda, she did write to you. Well, sort of. Those letters, I wrote them but she wanted me to. She wanted to check in on you-“
“Stop lying to me!” Glinda screamed, manicured hand slapping Fiyero clean across the face. The scarecrow’s head snapped back from the force of the blow. Hand still raised, Glinda went for another strike when someone grasped her arm. Wheeling around, the blonde prepared to strike whoever held her when she froze.
A single green hand had clenched down on her wrist. A set of gold colored rings adorned long lithe fingers. Two intelligent brown eyes peered back at Glinda from behind a thin black shroud.
“No,” Glinda gasped, staggering backwards. Her heel clipped the rug as she nearly toppled into the fire. Fiyero lunged, catching Glinda around the waist. “This isn’t real. This isn’t….”
Glinda grew impossibly pale, her eyelashes fluttered, and for a moment she nearly passed out. Fiyero slapped lightly at her cheek, drawing Glinda out of her half conscious state. Flushed, out of breath, and heavily confused, Glinda rolled onto her side and barfed.
“Great Oz, Glinda,” Fiyero sighed, moving to hold back the blond’s hair. “This is not going the way I planned.”
“I told you it was a bad idea,” Elphaba argued, shirking off her cloak, veil, bad shroud. She moved to kneel beside Glinda, placing a cool hand on the back of Glinda’s neck. “Glinda, get ahold of yourself, would you? This isn’t how the Uplands would want their daughter looking, is it?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Glinda groaned, wiping at her mouth With a soft hum, the blond did her best to adjust her hair and smooth out her clothes. Fiyero gave Elphaba an incredulous look before retreating to the kitchen. He returned and silently cleaned up Glinda’s mess. “There. Now that’s better isn’t it?”
Smiling, Elphaba held Glinda’s thin pale face in her hands. Glinda stared back at her, brown eyes welling with tears as she regarded her lost friend. A tiny smile fluttered across Glinds’s lips as she traced Elphaba’s features with her fingertips. For a moment, Glinda feared this was all a dream. That when she woke up she’d be all alone again.
Stifling a sob, the blond enveloped Elphaba in a bone crushing hug. She fried shamelessly into the other woman’s shoulder, soaking the fabric with her tears. Elphaba tried to keep herself composed, but she too fell apart in Glinda’s hold. Elphaba embraced Glinda like she was freezing to death and holding the sun to stay alive. Her beautiful bright ray of sunshine was finally in her arms again.
“Why?” Glinda cried, moving to rest her forehead against Elphaba’s. “Why did you do that to me?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Elphaba lamented.
“I could have saved you,” Glinda protested, shaking her head in denial. “I wouldn’t have worked something out. We could’ve gone to the Uplands and-“
“Glinda, Oz would have killed us both. You know that,” Elphaba countered, gently wiping away Glinda’s tears. “What matters is that we have a second chance now.”
“I don’t understand. Where will Fiyero go? If people find out what happened he’ll be a goner,” Glinda worried, turning to face Fiyero. Her brown eyes held intense fear in them.
“Glinda, she’s yours now. Elphaba and I, we fell out of love. There’s nothing wrong with that. I can live a life peacefully. Alone. She needs someone to look after her. To make sure Oz never finds her. Only you can do that,” Fiyero encouraged.
“What? No! No, I can’t. I can’t keep my mouth shut about anything. Everyone will know,” Glinda protested, panic setting in.
“Yes, you can Glinda.” Fiyero smiled, shaking his head.
“How do you know that?” Glinda pouted.
“Because you love her,” he chuckled. “You always have. It wasn’t loathing that drew you both together. I know that now. Elphaba knows that now. Deep down, you do too. It’s okay. I’m not upset. I’ve made my peace with it. All I want is for you to be happy. To live a proper life outside of grief. Don’t waste the opportunity you have, Glinda. Be selfish. Unabashedly so.”
The blonde frowned, her cheeks flushing vibrantly as she understood Fiyero’s implications. Yes, she did love Elphaba, but it never occurred to her that Elphaba would ever love her.
“You-you love me?” Glinda asked, voice impossibly small as she looked to Elphaba. Head tilted to the side, Glinda looked incredibly fragile. She’d be shattered in a moment if Elphaba said the wrong thing. If it really had been one big misunderstanding in interpreting Fiyero’s words.
“Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Elphaba laughed, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss against the blond’s forehead. “It surprised me too.”
“I love me too,” Glinda smiled, wrapping her arms around Elphaba. “In case you forgot.”
Laughing, Fiyero moved to embrace both women. Though he and Elphaba had fallen out of love, he still cared deeply for her. He adored both women before him, felt that they’d changed his life for the better even if it was by accident. He owed them everything.
“Don’t forget to write, okay?” Fiyero asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Glinda’s ear. He turned to Elphaba next, drawing out a pointed black hat from a satchel around his chest. “And you, don’t forget this.”
“Thank you, Fiyero.” Elphaba spoke earnestly, taking the hat and enveloping Fiyero in a tight hug. She would never hate him, never despise him. She couldn’t. He was so kind, so sweet, and all to willing to give up his life for her. It was a shame they couldn’t grow old together, but Elphaba knew it was best for both of them.
Fiyero, now dry, ventured back into the rain: this time alone. When the door shut, Glinda turned back to Elphaba looking rather cross.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” Glinda glowered.
“I won’t,” Elphaba promised, running a tentative hand through Glinda’s silky blond hair.
“Now, for the love of Oz, would you please kiss me?” Glinda demanded, pouting her lower lip. The request took Elphaba by surprise, but she was more than willing to oblige. What she didn’t expect was the slightly fruity taste to Glinda’s lips. It was good. Really good.
“There,” Elphaba laughed. “Better?”
“Yes,” Glinda squeaked, eyes glassy. “Do it again.”
“Miss Upland, you are a very greedy individual,” Elphaba snickered.
“What are you gonna do? Arrest me?” Glinda snorted, head tilting to the side.
“Try my patience and we’ll see,” Elphaba teased. “But first, let’s find you something to eat. You’re too thin.”
Though Glinda would have protested having a guest cook for her as it wasn’t very host like, she found herself following Elphaba around like a lost puppy. For the first time in a long time, things were perfect. And perfect was what Glinda had always loved and expected. It just took a wicked witch to put her world back on its proper axis. An axis that made her grief dissipate and her love blossom once more. An axis that saw to it both the good and the bad were inseparable. For better or for worse, green and pink went well together. Glinda intended to keep it that way.