Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked.
Lady Glinda sat at the corner of her bed, gazing blankly out the window. Stress was too much, and it had finally gotten to her. She hadn't been able to sleep for the past five days, despite her attempts. She lay awake in bed for ten minutes or so at night, but could not fall asleep. Once she decided sleep was out of the question, she would go take out the Grimmerie and study it. In the morning, one of her personal bodyguards, Zo, would walk in with her breakfast, only to find her sitting on the ground, at the corner of her room, reading a book intently.
Not that Glinda wasn't tired. Oh, goodness knew she was ready to drop, for she was completely exhausted, but she simply could not sleep. Every morning, the amount of powder under her eyes increased, to try to keep her complexion evem. But even makeup could not mask the empty stare of her eyes. But right now, her head hurt too much to think. Glinda rubbed her temples, and continued to stare out the window. Anything else required too much effort.
"Lady Glinda? Please answer me."
Glinda only turned after Zo, her bodyguard, had touched one of her hands. Even when she turned, she hadn't registered the fact that he was there, talking to her, until he waved one of his hands about two inches from her eyes. Then, Glinda blinked, and turned her blank gaze up to him.
"I'm terribly sorry, what were you saying?"
"My Lady, please, is something wrong? I was talking to you for about five minutes, and you didn't notice me at all. Are you ill?"
Glinda didn't respond, so Zo tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She looked up at him with red eyes, and muttered, "No."
But Zo really was worried now. She looked dead, it was true. Her red gown, much like her pale blue gown that she had worn when announcing the death of the Wicked Witch of the West, was beautiful, and her golden curls were gleaming. But even with her beauty, her eyes were blank.
"Well, if you insist, my Lady. I was asking if you wished to have dinner tonight. With me, I mean."
His face flushed red, for he had been working up his courage for quite some time to ask her. He just hoped she didn't notice his suddenly red face. But she didn't even turn to look at him. She was still gazing out the window.
"My Lady?" he asked again, hoping Lady Glinda would snap out of whatever trance she was in.
"Pardon me, I'm dreadfully tired. I... Yes, that would be fine. We'll be eating here?"
Zo's body grew limp with relief. She had agreed. Quickly, he nodded. "Yes, my Lady. In your private dining room, if you please. I shall cook myself. Please be ready at six, Miss Glinda."
With that, he turned around, and left. It was four now, and Glinda didn't want anything more but to sleep. However, she had just agreed to go on some dinner. Why had she even agreed? With a sigh, Glinda tried to stand up, but dizziness washed through her, and she fell back against her bed, closing her eyes shut tightly. This was not good. Dizzy spells were never good. With a groan, Glinda sat up, and put her cold hands against her temples. Instantaneous relief. She then resumed staring out her window, until past six, when she was shaken out of her daze by a servant, informing her to go down to her private dining room. Glinda was confused for a moment, until she remembered.
Glinda stood up, and the dizziness appeared, but vanished rather fast. She stumbled on her way to the door, and the servant caught her, looking worried. But Glinda shook her head, and muttered, "I'm fine. I'm fine."
As she began walking down the stairs, she noticed the ground looked uneven. Not good. She squeezed her eyes shut, and made her way down the stairs by simply using her other senses. Once she made it downstairs, she leaned against the wall, and moaned. But she had a dinner. She opened the door, and groped madly for the chair closest to her and collapsed into it.
Zo was sitting in front of her, looking troubled. But Glinda barely even noticed. She rubbed her eyes, and fought to keep them open. What was she doing here, anyway? She wasn't even hungry. She just wanted to sleep now.
"Lady Glinda? You look very pale."
"'M fine," she slurred, and made a conscious effort to open her mouth when speaking. He would just think she was drunk. "I haven't slept for five days, but I'm fine." Just as she said that, she moved her arm slightly, and knocked down wine. Fantastic. Elphie had known that when Glinda was half asleep, it was best to guide her to a bed, and sit with her until she fell asleep, or else she would do something stupid. But Elphie wasn't here now. With a sigh, she began grabbing her napkin. "I'll pick it-"
"Nonsense," Zo said quickly, standing up quickly, and putting his napkin over the spilled wine. "I don't think you should have wine today, anyway, because you look ill."
I feel ill, Glinda was going to say, but just rested her head against her hands. She didn't even notice she was losing consciousness until she felt a pair of strong arms steady her, and she realized she had been swaying, ready to slump against the floor in a moment.
"Lady Glinda? You're too ill. Maybe tomorrow-"
"No, I just... I'm fine. Really. Could you please, though... go fetch me a glass of water?" she mumbled weakly. Zo nodded quickly, and put Glinda in a position against her chair where she wouldn't be able to fall off the chair and hit herself in case she did lose consciousness.
The moment Zo left, Glinda frowned through her closed eyes. She could smell pasta faintly, and wondered what it would taste like. But maybe later. She felt very tired. Very tired. Her mind went blank once more. Her arm fell against the table weakly, and a moment later, her head fell on top of her arm.
Zo returned a few minutes later, holding a glass of water. He was very worried about Lady Glinda, and wanted to take her upstairs. He liked her very much, and was hoping she liked him, but she was obviously ill.
"Lady Glinda, I-"
He gasped when he saw her arm outstretched on the table, with her head resting gently on it. One of her golden curls had fallen in the ravioli, and was now soaked red with the sauce. But it was only one curl. Quickly, he set the water down and rushed forward, grabbing her and leaning her against the chair. She didn't look well, and he reached to take her pulse at her neck, and felt it beating steadily. Relieved, he carefully wiped her curl with a napkin, before lifting her up. Her head rested gently on his arm, and her legs over his other arm. She was beautiful when she was asleep, with no worry on her features. He smiled to himself as he went upstairs.
"Sir Zo, we wanted to... what happened to Lady Glinda?" one of the servants asked in alarm, as he watched Zo carrying a seemingly unconscious Glinda in his arms. But Sir Zo shook his head, and said, "I don't know. She seemed ill, and she asked me to fetch her a cup of water. When I returned, the poor girl was slumped over her food."
He finally made it to her room, and set her on her bed, making sure to put a pillow under her head. She didn't stir, and she hadn't since finding her downstairs. Well, she had mentioned not sleeping for five days, but he wasn't expecting this to happen. With a sigh, he sat down next to her, and held her cold hand. He would be there when she woke up.
"I love you, Glinda," he whispered, and leaned in to kiss her forhead. There was no sign of life from her, but he knew that baby steps would get him there.
A/N: Yes... I know I've gone crazy! This story was pointless, but for some reason, I like reading fics like these, and was wondering if anyone else does? Or is it just me and my crazy brain that likes it when Glinda is weak? xD Anyway, this was supposed to be a part of one of my Wicked stories, but I felt the urge to write it now! The one in the story will be a lot different, but still contain the same elements from this plot. Not that there is a plot. Please reviw if you read this! Even if just to tell me it's the worst story ever!