Chapter Text
The metal rail of Glinda’s balcony is hot from the sun. The skies are clear today, barely any clouds in sight. Glinda is there, alone as usual; her head facing the sky, sunglasses on, just to see if anything was to pass. The skies. A lot of her time is spent looking up at these skies, as these are the skies Elphaba once so beautifully flew in.
Oh how she remembers the way she’d stand out. A blur of a figure, the black cloak she gave her the day they parted would sway behind her. Spotting her was easy, reaching out to her was not. That had been her solace then.
Back then. When Elphaba was still her.
Glinda knows, logically, that she should stop. She should stop hoping for a glimpse of green in the skies, she should stop clinging onto Elphaba.
It has been years. How many? She isn’t sure.
It still feels as if she’s stuck in an endless pattern of dreaming of their old dorm before waking up to a cold house.
Elphaba’s dead now.
And yet her foolish heart refuses to accept it. Simply thinking the sentence has Glinda’s eyes water, makes her chest ache, makes her feel nothing and everything.
Has she truly accepted that Elphaba is gone for good?
No.
How pathetic of her, really.
So, so pathetic.
To still hope for someone that may never return? To still love someone who left on purpose? Why is she still waiting? The answer to that question, to Glinda, is about as far as the skies stretch. She could say it’s love, but even then, it doesn’t feel like a complete answer.
But she loves Elphaba, and if she is to return, she’ll be right here waiting.
No matter how long.
Her contemplation gets interrupted by a familiar voice. “Lady Glinda,” she hears behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Turning, she sees one of Chuffrey’s servants, Jaiyana, standing by the door. “Jaiyana,” she says. “What is it?”
The servant steps aside as Glinda steps onto the threshold separating the room from the balcony. “Lord Chuffrey is calling you.”
Oh for the love of her sanity.
Glinda takes her sunglasses off–her grip on it tight, her way of restraining grounding herself whenever his name is mentioned. They stay on her hand as she asks, “Why?”
“I am not certain,” Jaiayana answers. “All he said is that he wishes to speak with you.”
Nodding, Glinda says, “Tell him I will be there in a moment.”
“Of course.”
Jaiyana steps out of the room, the door shutting gently as Glinda is once again left alone.
Practically collapsing, she lays onto the mattress of her bed. The soft sheets are slightly comforting in the midst of her racing thoughts. What has she even done? She wasn’t truly effective as Throne Minister, after all. She may have revoked the Animal Adverse laws, but it is not like the Animals trust it. And she does not blame them, for the years of being hunted down like monsters have taken a toll on them, lost their trust, made them wary. Of course she would not blame them, she could not. She recalls what happened to Doctor Dillamond. Even if she had not favored him as a teacher, being murdered existing, and rightfully wanting to be treated with basic decency by the law and not hunted down, had him killed. It is understandable to the animals to not trust the fact that the laws against them had been revoked and that their rights had been restored.
At least she managed to make it safe for the Animals who stayed.
Glinda had once believed that not being part of the problem makes her part of its solution. She wasn’t the one endangering the Animals.
But no. Silence helps none, endangers everyone, and fails to save those who need it. She knows that now.
Complicity had been her shield for years. Even now. Even if she is technically the least corrupt one to have sat on Oz’s throne, being in this court still makes her complicit to every sin that everyone in it commits. Being married to Chuffrey gives her no choice but to stay in that court. They got married a couple years after Elphaba died. He proposed publicly, and Oz loved the idea. And well…Glinda may have changed but she can never escape that need to please. The need for validation.
She’s truly pathetic.
At the very least, in her position, she can do something. Something that makes it better to live in by all Ozians. Remove all those horrid people in the court. Make a system that’s slowly but surely taking away the rot.
Something Elphaba can return to.
Stop it Glinda. Foolishly hoping will do nothing but make your life more miserable than it already is.
But Glinda has always been foolish, has she not?
Enough of this, she still has to speak to Chuffrey. Oh how she despises the man. But she must smile and appear polished, as she has been doing so since she was young. However, the more she smiled, the heavier her shoulders felt.
Glinda does a once over of herself in the mirror. How perfectly wealthy and shallow she appears. Such a suitable outside appearance for those in the elite to gaze upon, it is as if she is the same person she had been when she arrived at Shiz.
But no, she is no longer her.
At least, she hopes.
Across the room, the Grimmerie sits. Every time her eyes land on that damn book, she is taken back to the day Elphaba and her had parted.
“Hold out, my sweet.” Elphaba’s words echo in her head as if it had been said yesterday.
Her heart slightly speeds up whenever she recalls how softly Elphaba had referred to her as that. How Elphaba had kissed her that day, it was amazing as it was tragic. But how much longer can Glinda hold out? She does not know, not at all. Even though she has been for a long time, she does not know how long she will last doing so.
Would Elphaba even look at her the same way if they met again?
Shaking her head, she gathers herself and makes her way downstairs. These halls feel like a void every time she walks through it. They’re barely decorated, it has a few framed paintings, yes. But for a hall as long as this, one could at least fill it up more. But no, Glinda is not allowed to do so, this is Chuffrey’s house, not hers. And he sees no use of that.
She cannot say anything against the man of the house, it does not matter that she is the woman of the house. He owns it, so it’s his.
When Chuffrey sees her, he calls her name. “Glinda. Sit over here.” He gestures to the chair across him. Sighing softly, Glinda does as told. Chuffrey leans forward, his head tilting slightly. Elbows resting on the table, hands moving with his words. “I’m sure you are curious as to why I have called you.”
“It is past lunch, Chuffrey. I am more curious as to why you have not mentioned it earlier instead.” She responds, keeping her tone formal enough to not reveal how much she does not want to speak to him.
“I suppose that would have been a wiser choice.” Chuffrey agrees. “But that does not matter right now. You see, I have been given a task overseas.” His face is a perfect mask of stoicism, but Glinda hears the arrogance dripping in his tone. “I depart in two days. At night specifically, so arrival by morning is ensured. I shall travel by ship. And as my wife, you are expected to see me off.”
“I see,” Glinda answered.
Of course, this is about their image as a married couple, isn’t it?
“People have been questioning your loyalty to me as my wife Glinda. They rarely ever see you with me, and it is starting to affect our image.” He says.
Oh she knew it.
He’s not necessarily wrong, Glinda rarely allows herself to be seen with Chuffrey unless it is fully required.
Oz, Glinda does not want to be here.
“So you must show up for this. Preferably, wear something similar to what I will. Just to emphasize the fact that you are my wife.” Chuffrey stated, finality all over his tone.
“Of course.” What else can Glinda say, after all? She got herself into this mess. It is only fair that she upholds it. “Is that all?”
Chuffrey sighs. “It is.”
Nodding, she says, “Alright then, I shall return to my room.” She stands up. Before she could leave, Chuffrey asks her, “Why do you insist on having a room of your own, Glinda? It is unbecoming of you as a wife.”
“This marriage, as you know, is nothing more than an agreement.” Glinda almost hisses out, it’s a miracle she restrained herself from doing so. “And one room to myself is all I ask. Besides, no one knows what happens inside the house.” Not giving him a chance to reply, she turns and goes back upstairs.
Upon arriving in her room, she slowly shuts the door and lets out a long sigh. Her hand doesn’t leave the knob. Deep breaths, Glinda. Deep breaths.
If she were braver, she would have left him. If she were braver, she would have left Oz. But no, she is tied to this place in more ways than one. At least, in two days, she will be given a little bit of peace in Chuffrey’s absence.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she sees how much she differs from that bright eyed girl at Shiz. Her blonde hair already has some silver mixing in it, her eyes are tired, certain lines on her face indicate the masking she has done in the past. Oz, she knows that even her voice has its changes. Sometimes she wishes she could just be the girl that night in the Ozdust ball again; dancing with Elphaba, watching others dance around them, then escaping the ballroom to their room.
Oh how she yearns to just be in that poppy field with Elphaba again. Just talk about nothing and everything.
Then, unexpectedly, the light outside the open door leading to her balcony disappears, leaving darkness.
But as quick as it came, the light reappeared.
Did…did no one else see that? Surely everyone else knows that it is extremely unusual.
Running to her balcony, she looks out again. But this time, she looks down on the streets where people pass. Surely, there will be a hint that others saw it too. Surely there is a sliver of a reaction that will indicate that she did not go mad.
Glinda lets out a harsh exhale when she does not see a single reaction. The ones crossing the street mind their business, the guards of this shallow imagery of a home remain in their posts, and the servants she sees from her vantage just continue as if nothing happened.
Maybe nothing did happen–at least for them.
What in the world had that been? Was that a hallucination? Maybe she just didn’t see much as she is quite high on a balcony to truly survey the reactions of others.
But still, she saw that.
What was it?
A slight feeling of something fizzling overtakes her for a moment, it radiates something that feels powerful. It was brief, but she felt it.
Oz, could it be some kind of sign of anything?
Maybe, maybe not. But that was not normal. And whatever it had been, it definitely meant something.
It has been years. She is still suffering a heavy loss. She has changed, yet she is the same.
Though there is no reason for her to even have hope for an ounce of mercy by whatever divine audience may exist out there, she does what she has been doing all this time.
She waits.
After having to do everything in her power to walk through damp skies, to fly without her broom, sees it. The shape of a palace, the sunlight hitting it just enough to show that it is green. There. The city she’s been searching for.
Elphaba is so close to Oz again. She’s reached it.
All her days stuck in that forsaken wood are no more–at least for now. At least, if Glinda will still want her there. Glinda is just past these gates that are surprisingly less strictly guarded. Still guarded, but it does not seem to be as tight as it had been in her time.
She’s almost there.
Yet as she nears Oz, she recalls the day Ozians believed she died.
She no longer remembers how to say the teleportation spell she had used that fateful day that fucking bucket landed on her head. She could have–oh how she really could have died. The water had landed on some parts of her face, her right hand, and the left side of her neck. Instinctively, her right hand goes to touch the scars on her face left by the water.
That was too close of a call. If she had not remembered that there had been a teleportation spell in the Grimmerie, had she not read it while skimming the Grimmerie before that day, she truly might have died. But she had not, she survived and she has the scars to prove it. Though the spell shoved her in some abandoned wood, there had been a few Animals kind enough to help her that reside there.
She has been there for about four years, she thinks. Yes, four. But how long has she truly spoken to Glinda? Not counting their farewell, it has…
Oh she doesn’t know. But it definitely has been way more than just four.
The cloak Glinda gave her during their first parting in Emerald City still hangs on her shoulders. It followed her when she casted that spell, unlike the hat. The one last hint of Glinda she carried with her.
Elphaba is tired, she has been walking for five days now–yes, she flew every now and then, but she needed to conserve her energy if she was to do any magic. She’s old, after all. She does not need a mirror for her hair has grown quite long, and she can see the silver strands among the black. She barely slept too. But she’s so close. She already sees the shadow of Oz.
Then, the wind starts to blow harshly.
Fuck. She had not brought anything to tie her hair with. Why had she forgotten something so practical?
She could fly, but she’s old. Her body probably will not withstand winds this strong. So, she keeps walking.
A particularly strong gush of air hits her. It makes her stagger back slightly, until something happens that makes properly regaining her balance a second thought.
Her cloak was almost blown away.
No.
No, she cannot lose this.
She had been quick enough to grab it before it could go far, but it made her topple on the ground. Tying it back on her, she looks around–a stone. Okay, she remembers a spell that can make her craft whatever with magic. Okay. She mumbles the spell as quickly as she can, and the stone turns into a pin. Thank goodness, something that can pin her cloak to her clothes.
Once she gets back on her feet, another harsh wind almost knocks her over.
Damn it, she’ll have to wait for this to pass.
But maybe…she can give Glinda some sort of sign she’s alive, that she’s longing for her. That she’s coming for her.
There was another spell she remembers, a spell that was labeled Sending A Signal. She remembers reading it years ago.
She hasn’t actually tried it, but it’s worth a shot.
Spotting a tree standing tall nearby, Elphaba walks towards it. It seems like a good corner with just enough wind resistance. She slumps down, letting out a long sigh.
She’s exhausted. But, she tries her very best to recall the spell and cast it.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then the sky goes completely dark.
What?
Before Elphaba could fully question what just happened, the darkness disappeared, as if a light switch was merely flicked on and off.
And the craziest detail is that the wind stopped too.
Did…did it work? It seemed to have worked.
Sighing, Elphaba leans back into the trunk of the tree. She’s tired. So damn tired.
Heh, she’s truly getting old.
It is most likely the exhaustion of her venture alongside her age. She’ll rest for a while, just a little while. So that her trek to Oz doesn’t exhaust her further. The more energy she has, the faster she can finally return to Glinda.
Glinda…
Has she been holding out? What does she look like now? The face in her dreams is quite young, Glinda’s appearance surely has changed in some way. Does she dress the same way? Does she speak the same way? Does sh