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Chapter Text

Ten Years After the Melting

Elphaba left late at night, after Fiyero was asleep. She left him a note, saying “back by morning,” but didn’t explain anything. She wasn’t sure why she was sneaking away even as she did it. They had spoken about it before, and he told her he understood. But she didn’t want him to know, and she didn’t want to think too hard about why either.

All she knew was that she needed to see Glinda one more time, before they truly left. The expansion of the nearby village had made the forest unsafe. Fiyero told her he knew another place they could hide, but it was far, weeks even by broom. Here, she could be at the castle in a matter of hours, not that she had visited. Not even once in the past ten years, she realized, with a pang of sorrow. She thought about the myriad of reasons for this choice: Fiyero’s safety, Glinda’s safety, even her own safety – but they all felt weak. Now she felt that the reason was obvious – she was afraid.

The flight was the longest she’d been on for some time. The air was wet and cold, pricking her cheeks. It was the early spring, and in the moonlight the trees were beginning to bloom, delicately, as if afraid.

As she flew, she thought again about Glinda. She had thought of her often; Glinda’s face would sneak up on her at inopportune moments, when she was foraging for food or kissing Fiyero or nearly asleep. Elphaba knew so little about Glinda now, besides her politics. Elphaba sometimes heard news of new pro-Animal laws passed by the throne. But Glinda had created a small elected council, so perhaps the work was out of her hands now. She could be a soldier, like Fiyero had been once. Or a teacher. A mother, maybe. She must be married by now, to a nice man or even a woman. Perhaps she sometimes thought of Elphaba, but this was wishful thinking. It had been so long…

Elphaba saw the castle as she approached. It was at the edge of Oz, facing flower fields to the west and the city proper to the east. It looked ghostly in the moonlight, all of its green washed a pale turquoise. Elphaba flew around the castle, to its eastern windows. This was where Glinda slept, in her memory from before she died to the world. She remembered that night, when Glinda had invited her in. She was still fleeing then, and Fiyero had not yet joined her. They were desperate to forget, to be the girls they were at Shiz again. Glinda was soft and warm, and so much like her mother’s elixir…

But as she approached, she saw that the balcony was gone; the doors replaced by a large window. Even from a safe distance, she could see the outline of a throne. Glinda had done some remodeling. Now Elphaba realized it made sense; Glinda wouldn’t sleep in the second largest room anymore, now that Morrible was gone. Elphaba swung back around to the western face. Now that she was looking for it, she saw it – an ornate balcony, high up on the castle, right below the base of the western tower.

She turned around first, to look back. She saw the freshly bloomed flower fields, near colorless in the moonlight. She saw, beyond that, the farms, quiet with sleep. And, dusting the horizon, the forest where she had hidden with Fiyero, for ten years. Ten years. It was forever and it was no time at all. It seemed impossible that she might turn around right now and see Glinda again.

And then Elphaba landed on the balcony. She saw Glinda through the glass doors.

Her lights were off; only the soft glow of the half moon lit her face. She was sitting on the edge of a large, four-poster bed, staring at her floor. She was wearing a loose nightgown. Her hair was tied up behind her head. After imagining Glinda’s face for ten years, seeing it was like the realization of a prophecy. And in the moonlight, Glinda seemed like an angel, or a ghost. Elphaba felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Something threatened to suffocate her, demanded that she return to her broom and leave.

Elphaba reached for the handle and opened the door into Glinda’s room.

Glinda looked up. She met Elphaba’s eyes. In the dim moonlight, her eyes looked sunken and completely black. She did not look surprised, only tired and sad.

“Glinda,” Elphaba tried, her voice cracking under the weight. It sounded weak, quiet. Glinda stood and turned away, towards her dresser, and opened it. She pulled out a small bottle.

“I’m not supposed to speak to you, Elphaba, you know that.” She turned back around. “The doctor said it isn’t healthy.”

Elphaba took a step forward. Glinda opened the bottle. It gleamed green in the moonlight. She raised it to her lips, hand shaking.

“Glinda, stop!” This time Elphaba’s voice was louder than she expected, strident. Glinda looked up again. Now Elphaba saw a flicker of fear.

“I can’t keep doing this, Elphie,” Glinda said. Her voice was a whisper. She set the bottle on her dresser. “I can’t–” Now her eyes brimmed with tears.

Elphaba’s mind was dizzy. Everything she’d imagined… She moved closer. Glinda recoiled. She whimpered. “Elphie, go away. I can’t… if you touch me again, and I feel nothing–” Her eyes darted towards the bottle. Now Elphaba saw something else in them, something entirely unreadable.

“Again? Glinda, I haven’t seen you in ten years. Can’t I just–” It seemed that words were impossible. Ten years time. Elphaba reached towards Glinda, took her hand. “Glinda, I’m sorry. I needed to see you one more time.”

Except now the sorrow in Glinda’s eyes was replaced with shock and fear. She seemed newly alive. Where her thumb rested against Glinda’s wrist, Elphaba felt Glinda’s pulse jump wildly. Glinda gasped, quietly. Then she closed her eyes, whispering “I’m dreaming I’m dreaming I’m dreaming…” But then she opened them again and raised her other hand to Elphaba’s face. She ran her fingers over Elphaba’s cheek, her eyes, her nose, her lips. Then she reached, still holding Elphaba’s hand, and turned on her bedside lamp.

In the new, warm light, Elphaba could see ten years of age etched into Glinda’s face. Her eyes really did seem sunken, and their rich brown had faded somewhat. Her lips were the slightest bit narrower. There were new creases between her eyebrows. She seemed thinner than the last Elphaba had seen her. It wasn’t just age, was it, but something else. Ten years of pain. Elphaba felt dizzy and stupid. Glinda hadn’t remarried, or forgotten, or anything. She dreamt of Elphaba still, just as Elphaba dreamt of her. A dark pit emerged in Elphaba’s throat, a guilt that made her feel suddenly ill.

And of course Glinda was still beautiful, achingly so. There was that.

“You’re dead.” Glinda said simply.

“No. No, I’m not.”

“You’re not.” Glinda squeezed Elphaba’s hand, tightly.

“You really never doubted?”

“How could I? How could I ever hope–” Glinda’s voice broke.

She believed it. Elphaba could see that now. She had never considered that Glinda could be so sure that she was dead. She thought – surely Glinda must have doubted, must have heard rumors of a green skinned peasant in the woods. And the cause of Elphaba’s death, too! She believed that?

“You believed that I melted? That water could melt me? Didn’t you know–”

“I didn’t know what I knew! I didn’t know you at all!” She was screaming now.

Elphaba took a step forward, holding Glinda’s hand to her chest. “Of course you did, Galinda, I– I loved you, you know that.” The old name slipped from her lips nearly unnoticed.

“But you left me.” And then her voice was small, weak.“If you aren’t dead, that means you left, and you didn’t tell me you were alive. You let me just… Mourn you for years and years.” She dropped Elphaba’s hand and fell back onto her bed. Her face grew distant, hard.

The pit in Elphaba’s throat widened. She was hardly able to speak. “We needed to keep you safe.”

“We?”

Shit. Elphaba winced as she said, “Me and Fiyero.”

Glinda rose, eyes suddenly narrow. “Fiyero is alive too?”

“Glinda, listen to me, please.”

“Get out.”

“I wanted to tell you, I did!”

“Get out!” Glinda shoved her. The surprise of the assault sent Elphaba falling backwards, out onto the balcony. Glinda slammed the doors, and then they frosted over like ice. Elphaba could no longer see inside. Elphaba stumbled to her feet, jumped on the broom, and left.

———

Fiyero was awake by the time Elphaba returned. He gave her a soft smile. She winced as she realized. He knew.

“It’s alright, Fae. It’s what you needed. Do you want to talk about it?”

Elphaba shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it. Fiyero knew that, he was just asking to be kind. She told Fiyero about everything, except about the first time she visited Glinda, or about all the time they spent together, or their day in the Emerald City, or… she hadn’t even told him how desperately she wanted Glinda to come with her, that very first time she learned how to fly.

Fiyero respected Elphaba’s silence about Glinda, but it sometimes made her feel crazy. She wished he’d pry. She wished he’d ask why Elphaba still said her name sometimes, instead of his. She wished he’d get angry that she still hid such a huge part of herself from him. But he didn’t. He was too good.

They spent the day cleaning out the home they’d built for themselves. They had constructed a small, one room cabin over the course of a year, after they’d found this place. Fiyero proved good with an axe, something he’d picked up from Boq. The house had a bed, a small table with three chairs, and a hearth. It was simple, but neither of them really found themself wanting for more. They hurt the most for companionship.

Sometimes, Elphaba and Fiyero would visit old Animal revolutionaries, pardoned by the throne but not by their county. They lived underground, or in abandoned houses. There were never more than five in a group, rarely more than three, and some lived completely alone. Elphaba and Fiyero would visit smaller towns too, though never together and never the ones closest to their home. They needed supplies, and to see people who weren’t suffering from the isolation that poisoned all of their revolutionary friends. But they rarely saw others more than twice a month. Elphaba even missed being a child sometimes. Better to be hated than invisible.

Elphaba and Fiyero had a few possessions, kept in the wooden boxes Fiyero carved. Letters from friends, books, newspaper articles. They couldn’t bring all of it, so Elphaba rustled through, looking for things to part with. She tried to focus on what she was doing as she worked, to stop herself from thinking of Glinda. But her mind wandered.

How could she have known Glinda would mourn her so dreadfully? The girl should have questioned her death at some point, after all, considering its improbable explanation. Her anger was unjustified, all Elphaba wanted to do was say a true goodbye. How could she have told Glinda, ten years ago? It wasn’t safe. Glinda wasn’t safe, and Fiyero wasn’t safe, and the Animals weren’t safe.

But the pit in her throat didn’t disappear. She still saw Glinda’s eyes, dark with grief.

Then she moved another book and saw it. The Emerald City guidebook, with Glinda’s message in curly pink letters, “ I hope you get what your heart desires .”

It hit her. She couldn’t leave Glinda like that, betrayed and sobbing alone in the dead of night. Elphaba looked up at Fiyero. He was sifting through his own, admittedly much smaller, collection of books.

“You have to go without me,” Elphaba said.

Fiyero looked up at her, confused. “What?”

“To the new place. You know where it is. You can take my broom, and– come back for me, in a month or two.”

“Elphaba… why?”

Elphaba scanned the room before her eyes landed on the pile in front of her. “These books. They are important, especially the pamphlets. I have to get them to a library.”

“We can do that after we’ve settled down.”

“We’ll be too far away from any good libraries. Besides, we can’t bring them all with us. Be reasonable, Fiyero.” Even as the words left her mouth they sounded ridiculous. Fiyero looked at her incredulously.

“Elphaba, why are you doing this? You know you can’t stay.” He looked at Elphaba, then his face fell. “This is about her, isn’t it?”

Elphaba looked down, unable to deny it. Fiyero sighed heavily.

“Elphaba, it’s not safe to stay here now that she knows you are alive.”

“What is she going to do, send her guards after me?” Elphaba retorted.

“Maybe! You know how she gets! When people leave…” His voice faltered, sounding suddenly sad. “Now that she knows you’re alive, she won’t be able to let you go.”

“She let you go, didn’t she?”

“Because of you, Elphaba!”

Elphaba looked up at him, eyes wide. “You don’t know that.”

Fiyero looked away. “Which one of us spent three years with her?”

Age had dulled Elphaba’s temper, but now it flared up inside of her. “You didn’t know her at all.”

Fiyero stopped, like he had every time they spoke about Glinda. He wouldn’t push her. Except now it seemed there wasn’t anything to push. Elphaba saw it in his eyes, he knew she was right.

“I know she loved you. And I know she might try to find you again. That’s all.” He looked up at her. “And I know I love you, now. And I want you to come with me. We can be actually safe this time, and happy.”

“I can’t leave her like this. Fiyero, she was so lonely.”

“Elphaba. It was already dangerous to go back.”

“It’s been ten years and she hasn’t moved on!”

“Neither have you, it seems.” Fiyero sounded hurt, but not vicious. Was he jealous? Or just sad? She couldn’t tell. But now he looked at her like he had realized something.

Fiyero grabbed a few books and put them into his satchel. “I have everything I need,” he said. Elphaba looked at him, silently. He met her eyes.

Fiyero’s eyes had faded slightly. So too had the straw of his face. Ten years in the wilderness had made Elphaba’s skin calloused and rough, but Fiyero's had become softer. Elphaba touched it, her eyes welling with tears. Now she felt the weight of the last ten years, solidified in this man. And she could barely comprehend that it was ending, but she couldn’t turn back.

She leaned forward and kissed him, gently. He raised a hand to her cheek.

Then she said, “I hope I see you again.”

He smiled. “I hope so too.”

And then he leapt onto the broom and flew away.

———

The walk to the castle was significantly longer than the broom flight. After ten hours of walking, Elphaba sat down in a small grove near a farm. She was thoroughly exhausted. She pulled out her small satchel of food, only a loaf of bread the size of her hand and a half block of cheese. Before she had thought it smart to save it, but now she was so overcome with hunger she ate it all in a bite. It occurred to her afterward that she was still far from the castle, but by then she was nearly asleep.

She slept thickly, but woke the next morning feeling sick. The sun was just beginning to dust the sky pink. She was accustomed to waking early; she had done so her entire life. She spent her childhood constantly alert, and thus she generally operated on very little sleep. A night owl and a morning bird , Dulcibear had said.

In the light of the new day, Elphaba saw that the grove she was in was rather sparse, the trees not yet filled in with leaves. She was far less hidden then she’d originally believed. Farmers woke early too. She went on her way.

As she walked she tried to think about Fiyero, and hope for his safety, but her hungry and exhausted mind kept wandering back to Glinda. Alone, in that tower, for ten years. So certain in Elphaba’s death. How long had it taken her to accept it? It seemed that even now she was still mired in the grief, like a war torn soldier. Elphaba felt that sinking guilt again.

But what was ten years of grief? Elphaba’s mother was dead, her sister was dead, and Glinda… Her mind faltered over how to describe Glinda. The words all sounded wrong: friend , enemy , lover … She was all of those things and none of them. For the last ten years, she was an idea in a tower far away.

And then suddenly she was achingly real, and Elphaba had no idea what to do.

Over the crest of a flower-speckled hill, the castle appeared. It was now the early stages of sunset, and the pearlescent green facade seemed to capture the sun’s golden light and then send it hurtling outwards. It was as beautiful now as it was the very first time she had seen it.

Stepping off the train. Looking out at the soaring buildings, bustling crowds, and far above a brilliant blue sky. She turned to look at Glinda, and her pale skin, reflecting the city’s glow, seemed almost green.

They went all about the city. Glinda was eager to spend money. She bought hair clips, perfumes, dresses, shoes – for herself and for Elphaba. They got their hair and nails done. They ate at cafés and cabarets.

Elphaba was left to be for the first time in her life. Shop owners paid her no more mind than any other customer. She slipped through crowds unnoticed. And when she bumped into people, running with Glinda to the next attraction, she got scarcely a sideways glance. She was deliciously invisible.

Well, invisible to most.

So many times Elphaba would look at Glinda, and catch the girl already looking at her. Or they’d see something beautiful, and instinctively Elphaba would turn to watch Glinda’s face flush with joy, and then Glinda would meet her eye. This had happened before, at Shiz, but usually whichever one of them had been caught staring would look away sheepishly. Now it seemed so silly that they’d ever been ashamed.

A few hours before their appointment with the wizard, Glinda found out about a show happening ten or so blocks from where they were. They had time, so they took a longer route, along less populated streets. They walked through an alley, cloistered between tall brick buildings. Glinda ran her hands over the walls. Elphaba watched her slender fingers bump gently over the course bricks, faded with time but still undeniably green. She felt her heart thump heavily in her chest.

A few steps later, Glinda stopped walking. She turned to look at Elphaba. Her eyes were moist.

“This has been the best day of my life,” she said.

“Mine too.”

“Imagine if everyday was like this. Imagine if we lived here together. Being with you… it’s different than anything I have ever felt in my entire life.”

“I’ve never had a friend before you,” Elphaba said.

“Friend?” Glinda said. She seemed to surprise even herself, but her face betrayed no regret.

“I don’t know.” Elphaba said. She took Glinda’s hand. Glinda’s mouth fell open the slightest bit, she exhaled softly.

Elphaba leaned forward and kissed her gently. Glinda’s lips were as soft as she had imagined. At first Glinda was still, but then she seemed to awaken. She opened her mouth beneath Elphaba’s. She put one hand on Elphaba’s waist, the other on her cheek. She pressed her body flush against Elphaba’s. Elphaba’s back hit the brick wall behind her. She felt Glinda’s fingers on her face, in her hair–

Elphaba forced herself out of the memory. The castle had grown much closer, and now the sun had completely descended below the horizon. She felt dizzy, from exhaustion and hunger and the memory of Glinda’s touch. She stumbled towards the forest, and collapsed into the underbrush. She looked towards the castle, across a field of flowers, all of them freshly blooming in the early spring. Something new was coming, or maybe something very old. But that was tomorrow. Tonight she needed to rest. 

She descended again into sleep, but this time it was fitful, her mind and body still alight with ancient memory.

Eight hours later Elphaba was woken by a musket to her chest.

Chapter Text

“Elphaba Thropp.”

Elphaba blinked. It was too dark to make out anything clearly. She felt the cold muzzle of the gun through her thin dress.

“Elphaba Thropp.” The voice was male.

“Father?” she tried weakly.

“Elphaba!” Now she heard it. The awkwardness. The subtle lilt. And the obvious effort to push words out of a body ill fit for speech.

“Boq?”

The tin man stepped backwards. He kept the musket pointed at Elphaba.

“Elphaba Thropp, you are under arrest, by order of the Queen of Oz, her Highness, Glinda the Good.”

“What?” She was still in the fog of sleep. Boq’s voice, which had sounded like him only a moment before, had taken on an overly formal quality. “Boq, what are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m arresting you,” he said matter-of-factly, and it was him again. “Stand up, Elphaba.”

Elphaba struggled to her feet. It didn’t occur to her to be afraid. It was Boq, after all. Now he lowered the musket, and looked her up and down.

“Elphaba, it’s so good to know you are alive.” He was trying not to betray emotion, but he was always bad at lying. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in the crack in his voice. The last time she’d seen him, he had hated her. But the years seemed to have dulled his anger. He only looked sorrowful.

“It seems the spell held up.” The moon was low in the sky, behind Boq, and in the faint light she could see his metallic body, more rusted and dull than it had been ten years ago. But he was alive, and clearly physically capable.

Boq gestured towards the castle. “Let’s go, Elphaba.”

“Really?”

Elphaba saw Boq’s dismal attempt to steel himself and hold his face still. “Yes,” he said. “You are under arrest.” He gestured lamely with the musket.

She wondered if she could escape. She was weary and famished; her magic was weakened. If she just ran, would he shoot? She doubted it. But this seemed as fine a way into the castle as any. If she ended up in prison, she could escape after she’d had something to eat and time to rest. It wasn’t like she had a better plan.

And so they walked. Boq followed a small dirt path through the flower field. The sun began to rise.

“How is she?” Elphaba asked. It was the first thing she thought to ask, really.

“Don’t you know?” Boq glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Did she tell you? That I visited her?”

“Just me. Well, me and my immediate subordinates. That makes five. But that’s it. And they are sworn to confidentiality, of course.”

“Are you the Captain of the Guard, then?”

“For the last five years, yes.” He didn’t sound proud at all. Not ashamed, just… maybe it was age. Time had churned slowly and worn them all to apathy.

“But how has she been? Since I left?”

Boq was silent for a moment before answering. “For the first two years it was pretty bad. But then she devoted herself to the work, fighting for Animals, regulating the county economies, decreasing the military power of the throne… you know, politics stuff. And she got better. But three years ago, she finished setting up the elected council, and most of that work left her hands. So she had nothing to do, I suppose, except sit around and think about…” Boq looked at Elphaba. “You.”

Elphaba forced herself to continue walking. She looked at the dirt beneath her feet.

“A few of us, the guards I mean, convinced her to go to a doctor. And she tried different things, but the only thing that did anything was this elixir. It’s old medicine, Munchkin. A sort of emerald color. She had a bottle of it somewhere, and she asked the doctor for more, I think. Now she takes it every night. But it just makes everything worse.” Emotion creeped into his voice. “And none of us know what to do.”

Elphaba remembered the green bottle Glinda had raised, shakily, to her lips. And of course she knew what it was, despite how desperately she wanted not to. She felt sick.

“Where are you taking me now, Boq?” She looked at him. He didn’t answer.

They walked in silence for a bit. It had occurred to Elphaba, of course, that Fiyero was right. Glinda had come after her. It hadn’t been safe to return. But she wasn’t surprised, not really. Maybe some part of her had always known this was a possibility, but it hadn't stopped her from coming back. She just wasn’t afraid of being caught. She could never be afraid of Glinda, really.

After a good silence, Elphaba asked, “What about you? How have you been?” Boq looked at her and smiled; she heard his face creak. It suddenly struck them both as an awfully funny question. Elphaba snickered, and then Boq started to laugh, and then they both started laughing and laughing. She felt that her brain was leaving her body and she was gone, back at Shiz, after the dance, the happiest days of her life.

But then they stopped laughing, and Boq answered. “I’m doing alright. Good job, at least.”

Elphaba looked at him. The sun was now almost fully risen, peeking around the castle. The warmth was reflected dully in Boq’s face.

“Do you have someone?”

He didn’t look at her. “No, but, I’m over her, if that's what you’re asking.”

Elphaba wasn’t sure what she was asking. She also wasn’t sure if she believed him. But she didn’t really want to know.

They were at the city now. Boq took out a set of keys and opened a small wooden door on the side of one of the towering emerald walls. It opened into a small room, with a broom, boxes, and a hatch. Boq opened the hatch and walked inside.

Underground, the city lost its brilliant green. They walked through gray stone passages. They appeared identical to Elphaba, but Boq never paused, confident in the path. When they arrived at a tall wooden staircase that spiraled into darkness, Boq ascended it without hesitation.

“Is this your usual means of capturing prisoners? It doesn’t seem very secure.”

“We usually send more guards. I wasn’t the one who found you, but I was the one who had to capture you. Glinda’s orders.”

So a different guard, a stranger, found her sleeping and she had no idea. She didn’t like the thought.

Boq stopped walking. They were in complete darkness, but after a few seconds Elphaba heard the sound of keys turning in a lock. Boq opened the door to blinding green light.

Elphaba stepped into the room and blinked, her eyes adjusting. She looked to her right. They were high up; a huge window showed the entire city, shining and emerald. They were facing east; the sun was rising away from the horizon.

Elphaba heard the door close. She turned to look. Boq was gone, and so was the door, disappeared into the emerald wall.

And then Elphaba turned, and there, on a towering throne overlooking the city, was Glinda.

———

Glinda was in a billowing silver dress that gleamed iridescent. She wore long white gloves. Her hair was curled, and it bounced around her shoulders. She was poised now, not at all like she was four days ago. In the darkness, she had seemed weak, but now, she was in her domain. The entire city seemed to belong to her. Elphaba remembered Glinda’s arrival at Shiz, her easy and precise control of the crowd. Her presentation now was different than it was back in school. But the same woman was underneath.

Glinda said nothing; her lips were pursed. She was waiting for Elphaba to speak. She raised her right eyebrow the slightest amount.

“You arrested me?” Elphaba said.

Glinda’s face was still. “You are still a fugitive, Elphaba.”

“It’s been ten years!”

Glinda said nothing.

“Why am I here?”

“You broke the law and you faked your own death to avoid capture.” Glinda’s voice was even-keeled, but Elphaba detected the strain. She knew Glinda too well. Better than anyone, maybe , she thought, and her chest tightened.

“So now what? Are you going to send me to prison?”

Glinda smiled. “That would be the proper next step, yes. But I’m not sure.”

Elphaba said nothing, now. She wanted Glinda to make a move.

“What do you think I should do with you?” Glinda was unfazed by Elphaba’s silence. She even looked calmer. The power helped her, Elphaba realized. She was running from something, and maybe it was obvious what it was.

“You won’t send me to prison. Because then I’ll still be here. You can’t tell the world I’m alive, either, because then everyone will know that I fooled you. So you have to kill me, or let me go. I think that’s your choice.”

Glinda’s smile faded. Her left eye twitched. “You don’t want me to let you go. I saw you leave Elphaba, you went further than just beyond the walls. But now you're here. If you wanted me to let you go, why did you come back?"

Elphaba had no response. The air was thick.

"So you want me to kill you, then? Is that what you want?” Glinda’s voice broke harshly over the words. She blinked rapidly, like she was fighting tears.

Elphaba felt that familiar sickness, but it was quickly supplanted by anger. “It seems like that's what you want, seeing as you were so upset to see me alive,” she said.

Glinda’s mouth opened and shut, and she began to cry. Whatever control she had of the room faded rapidly as her face crumbled, just like it had so long ago, high up in this very castle. She stood up and turned away, bringing a hand to her face.

And then it was like they were at Shiz again, Elphaba running to Glinda’s side. She touched Glinda’s shoulder, felt her flinch.

Glinda spoke quietly, back still to Elphaba. “How could you say that, Elphie? You don’t know how much I wanted you to come back, how many times I dreamed of you at my window. I thought it was another dream that night. Even now I feel like I'm going insane, and like maybe you aren't here at all.”

“I'm here, Galinda. I'm here.” Again she barely noticed the old name as it left her lips.

Glinda turned. “Why did you come back, Elphie?” she asked, weakly.

Elphaba didn’t know what to say. All she thought was I needed to , and then I love you , but it seemed wrong. Glinda’s real question lingered beneath. Why did you wait so long?

In the end she said nothing. She just looked at Glinda and hoped the other woman could find the answer somewhere in her eyes.

After a moment, Elphaba asked, “Why did you arrest me?”

Glinda broke her gaze, looking at her hands. “Because you left. So I sent them looking for you. I thought– I thought you’d leave me again, and forever this time.”

Elphaba felt that now familiar sickness, and the urge to make it unreal. “How could I? Did you really think that?”

Glinda pulled away suddenly. She looked incredulous. “You left me for ten years.”

“I needed you to be safe. And I’m sorry, I really am.”

“Then why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“I am safe, Elphaba. I’ve been safe. I’m the Queen of Oz.”

Elphaba opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.

“If you want to leave, leave now,” Glinda said. “Please don’t leave me when I think you are going to stay.”

There was anger and sadness in her voice, but the request was genuine.

“Okay. Okay. I won’t.”

Glinda’s face flooded with relief. Elphaba saw how deeply she believed, just then, but then she seemed to remember herself, and the poised and suspicious look returned to her face. She cleared her throat, straightened up.

“Elphaba, I need to fix myself. Boq will escort you to a place where you can stay, for now.” Glinda waved her hand. A few moments later, Boq entered, this time through the main door to Elphaba’s right. Glinda had cast a small but difficult spell, sending a message. Her magic, though not powerful, was evidently quite refined.

Boq put a cold hand on Elphaba’s back and led her out the door. In another situation, the touch might have been unwelcome, but now it grounded her. She turned to catch Glinda’s eye, but only saw her ruffled dress as she receded through a door behind the throne.

———

Boq gave her a heavy black cloak to put on as soon as they entered the main hallways. She couldn’t be seen. They walked westward through the castle. Elphaba hadn’t seen these hallways since she was running from the wizard's guards. They seemed the same and they seemed infinitely more beautiful. In the shadows between the windows the walls were deep emerald, but in the golden light they became sparkling jade.

When Elphaba first saw this castle, twelve years ago, saw its glassy green walls and sparkling viridian towers, she let herself believe she might be beautiful. She had only thought that once before, the time she had felt Glinda’s gentle touch and the kiss of the pink petals on her cheek. She still remembered Glinda’s eyes, and her earnest belief in Elphaba’s beauty, so clear, so unabashed. But a second later Elphaba had felt ashamed, like she had tricked Glinda into believing something that wasn’t true, and she had run away. Now, back in the castle’s halls after so long, she thought about the other time she ran, and all the years she lost because of it.

The room Boq brought her to was in the castle’s west wing. It was smaller than Glinda’s, of course, but still grand. The bed was canopied, in sheer silver fabric that fluttered in the light breeze from the hallway. It was designed as a child’s bedroom, Elphaba realized, smaller and close to the main bedroom. She felt suddenly like she had robbed this bedroom of a child.

Boq looked at her wearily. Exhaustion seemed like the strongest thing left inside of him. They were all tired, Elphaba and Boq and Glinda and even Fiyero, far far away. Ten years ago Elphaba was angered, fervent. She would never have envisioned a deep weariness to be the dominant feature of her adult life, but now she felt it had always been inevitable.

“I think she’ll come to see you soon,” Boq said. Just…” He gave her a small smile. “It really is good to know you are alive, Elphaba. And I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

“Don’t mention it, please.”

Boq nodded. He looked away. “Good luck.” And then the door was closed and Boq was gone.

Elphaba turned to survey the room. The bed was in the center of the room, its head pressed against the right wall. Behind it was a dresser and a standing mirror. On the right wall there was a heavy wooden door, identical to the one Elphaba had entered through. The walls were hung with thick tapestries, narrating the history of Oz. Many of them depicted Animals and humans together; Elphaba reasoned that they must be old. The room, though obviously unoccupied, was well-kept and not at all dusty.

The room made her feel quite tired. It reminded her of her own childhood bedroom, though this room was larger. But it was similarly dark and private. That room had been her haven, her respite from suffering. Now, in this room, the anxiety and guilt she had felt all throughout that day washed away and all that was left was that weariness which was now an old friend.

Elphaba opened the sheer canopy of the bed and sat on the edge. She took off her boots. Then she pulled aside the blanket and tucked herself underneath. At this point she remembered how dirty she was, but she couldn’t bring herself to climb out of the bed. The exhaustion of the last few days caught up to her all at once, as she fell into a deep sleep.

As she slept, she dreamed her entire life, but in faint flickers that disappeared as quickly as they came.