A few words in advance. This story is set in the second Act of the Musical, beginning with the Witch Hunters, all the way through to the finale. It tells an extended version of what we see on stage. Almost the entire dialog is from the libretto. That said, I don't own any of it: the characters, lyrics or lines. That's all to the wonderful writers of Wicked, book and musical! And of cause the interpretation of Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel.
Now go on and read, I hope you like it. Have some Kleenex ready. Oh, and a review would make me very happy!
a promise to keep
- a WICKED fan-fiction -
Torn, Glinda's gaze followed the men that ran off to their final hunt for the Wicked Witch of the West. Rumors had spread that she was hiding in Kiamo Ko, just west of the Emerald City. It only made sense, Glinda thought. It belonged to Fiyero's family. He must have told her to hide there.
Fiyero.
The thought still hurt. She had loved him, more then she could have ever imagined loving anybody but herself. She had wanted him, she would have done anything for him, given up everything. Even Elphaba.
Of course, she had regretted that. More than once. Guilt still ran through her veins like poison when she thought of that horrifying day. But she had had everything she had ever hoped for. She had become Glinda, the Good. Everybody loved her. All the guys admired her and all the girls wanted to like her. She had prestige and glamour and wealth. She should have been happy back then, but she wasn't. Something was missing. Fiyero, even though he had agreed to marry her was absent and constantly looking for Elphaba. He was never around, never seemed to care about her much. And Elphaba was gone, the only one she could have talked to or lean on.
Her own misery had blinded her. She hadn't seen the reasons why Fiyero had been looking for her friend so fiercely. The thought that he could see something other than a friend in her had never crossed Glindas mind. Elphaba had been right, and it shamed her now that she would have thought it impossible that Fiyero could love Elphaba, that anyone could love her, really. Then she had betrayed her and now they were coming for her.
"Kill her, kill the witch!"
The chanting of the witch hunters echoed in the distance. And suddenly it hit her. They would actually kill Elphaba, should they find her!
Elphie", she thought and pain spread across the lovely lines of her face. "Somebody has to warn her!" Searching, she looked around, but nobody was there. And who could be trusted anyway? She wasn't even sure that Elphie was in Kiamo Ko, but there were other places, other hideaways. But there was nobody Glinda could trust, nobody she wanted to tell of those places. Maybe she was safe, and then they would find her because she had been stupid.
"If only I could go myself!" she mumbled, still looking around the deserted plaza. Everybody was gone on the witch hunt. Even Madame Morrible had vanished somewhere. And then the idea formed in her head. She could herself, if only she made sure nobody saw her leave. If she would just get high enough quickly she could not be seen from the ground. If the wind was right she could be faster than them, also. But there was no time to loose, it would be a tight race.
Not even two minutes later she stood atop the highest roof of the Wizard's palace. Beneath her feet spread the Emerald City, glowing in all possible shades of green. Glinda remembered the first time she and Elphie had come here, young, naive and full of childish hopes. This place had appeared as some dreamlike wonderland. And even now it looked mesmerizing. But there was no time to revel in memories now, nor to enjoy the sight before her.
Quickly, she conjured her bubble – one of the few spells she could manage – and climbed into it. She glanced around, but the entire city seemed to be abandoned. Only a cat tried to catch a green light beam that was reflected by a mosaic of emeralds. She willed the bubble to rise high, her eyes fixed on a small silhouette atop a mountain to the west – the silhouette of the castle that was Kiamo Ko.
There was hardly any wind at all. Better than eastward winds, Glinda mused and suppressed the slight panic rising in her chest. Minutes dragged by slowly. Even though the castle seemed to become bigger in the distance, it was still so far away.
There were tears in her eyes as she pressed them together, concentrating in an effort to make the bubble go faster. She couldn't let them get to her first. She had to warn Elphie, talk to her, tell her to hide somewhere. And she would try to clear her name. She had powers in Oz now. The people trusted her, loved her. Surely they would listen to her. She would explain everything, tell them about all the lies the Wizard and Madame Morrible had spread, how all Elphie had ever wanted was to do good. Surely they would believe and stop to hunting Elphaba and turn against the truly wicked instead.
Then Elphie could come back and live with her in the Emerald City, just the two of them. They would reign together, two good witches, and Elphie would finally be popular. The Ozians would love and admire her just as much as Glinda. Some little girls would paint her faces green to look like Elphie and others would wear a tiara and a sparkling dress to resemble Glinda. They would all be friends and everybody would be happy.
"Kill her, kill the witch. The wicked witch has to die!"
A slight breeze had picked up and carried the voices of the witch hunters up to her bubble. She was too high in the air to really see anything that happed down there, but she had to be close to them, maybe right above them. Glinda looked behind and saw the Emerald City gleam in the distance and then looked out to Kiamo Ko again. She guessed she was halfway there.
Tears rose in the eyes again, this time in relief. She would make it before the hunters got there. She could talk sense into Elphaba and everything would be fine. With new hope she willed the bubble to fly even faster, now praying that she would find her friend in the castle.
When she reached the mansion, everything looked quiet and peaceful. The trees swayed and cracked in the wind but that was the only noise and movement around. If Elphaba was here, she had covered it up well. There was so sign of life anywhere to be seen.
Swiftly, Glinda landed behind a large group of trees, and her bubble disappeared into thin air. She hurried to the entrance, opened the heavy wooden door without a sound and squeezed inside. The hall was dark and heavy with dust and silence, only illuminated by two small windows at the far end. Her hope to find Elphie here sank, but she still hurried on, cursing her heels that clattered on the marble floor. If her friend was here, she knew somebody was coming now.
By the time she reached the third floor, her eyes caught a swift movement. But the moment she looked, the only thing she could see was a long, slim tail vanishing in the dark. She stopped dead, starring at the lifeless shadows, listening for any sound. And then she heard it, distant cry of a high-pitched, childlike voice and a frustrated, but very familiar one.
Glinda's heart leaped and she practically flew up the stairs now, all the way to the attic. There she found her, as green as she remembered her, in a black dress, wearing that same hideous pointed hat she had once given her. And she was, of course, in a conversation with an animal.
"Chistery! Oh, Chistery, there you are. Where are the others? Chistery, please... If you don't at least try to keep speaking you will never..." She still looked up, her eyes following Chistery's fingers that pointed directly towards Glinda. Her face froze and her voice became icy. "Go away."
Of course, Glinda ignored her. "They're coming for you!"
Elphaba showed no sign of surprise, or any kind of reaction at all. "Go away," she repeated. But Glinda just shook her head. She would not give up so quickly; she had a plan after all. And she would not let her be discouraged so easily. But she was quiet for a clock tick, looking around the place that seemed to be Elphie's home now. It hardly looked any livelier than the entrance hall. It was dark and smelled of dust and wood. Surprisingly, she couldn't smell the presence of the monkeys.
A sound distracted her, and she looked over to a trap door in the floor. She could hear the childlike voice again, crying. And she clearly recognized her as Dorothy now. The conversation she had overheard on her way up here suddenly made sense.
"Let the little girl go, and that poor little dog... Dodo. I know you don't want to hear this, but someone has to say it. You are out of control! I mean, come on! They're just shoes, let it go! Elphaba, you can't go on like this."
But Elphaba didn't even seem to listen. "I can do whatever I want; I'm the Wicked Witch of the West." Glinda could tell that she had wanted her voice to sound indifferent, but she knew her well enough to hear and hurt and the loneliness in it. It broke her heart.
Yet, before she could reply anything another monkey came into the room carrying a small piece of parchment. Elphaba seemed to have waited for him and took the letter. She mumbled something under her breath while she was reading, and then her face froze. By the look in her eyes, Glinda knew this could only mean one thing.
"What is it? What's wrong? It's Fiyero, isn't it? Is he...?"
"We've seen his face for the last time." Elphaba's voice was steady as she said this, and the trace of guild that crossed over her face was barely noticeable.
Glinda felt a sharp sting of pain in her chest at her words. Fiyero! But then she put the sorrow away. There was no time now to grief over Fiyero now. She had to save Elphaba as long as she still could. She stared at her in wonder as she put the parchment aside and starting walking across the room.
"You're right," she said. "It's time I surrender." She carefully placed a wooden bucket filled with water in the middle of the room. The petite girl wanted to scream out loud and shake Elphie awake, but she couldn't move.
"Elphie." she muttered instead. "Elphie, what is it?" But she didn't even look up from her preparations, whatever she was preparing. Instead she gestured towards the door. "You can't be found here. You must go."
"No." Now Elphaba turned, and the intensity of her look made Glinda flinch. "You must leave."
Everything was going wrong, she thought. She had come to warn Elphaba, to tell her to go into hiding again until she could work things out. Now Elphaba was telling her to go and hide.
"No!" she protested again and could barely suppress the urge to stomp her food on the ground. "Elphie! I'll tell them everything. They'll..." But her friend cut her short.
"No, they'll only turn against you."
"I don't care!" Her own words shocked her, but at the same moment she knew that was exactly how she felt. She would stand with her friend, as she should have a year ago. She wouldn't run away again. Not this time! She didn't even care if Elphaba felt the same way, if she had forgiven her betrayal.
Elphaba's next words hit her unprepared. "I do." Her voice was quiet but insistent. She grabbed Glinda's hands and held them in hers. "Promise me." She sensed that Glinda wanted to speak in protest, but she didn't let her. "Promise me that you won't try to clear my name."
But Glinda didn't do anything like that. She just stared at her friend in disbelief. Too many things happened too quickly for her to comprehend. Elphie wanted to be left alone in most dangerous moment of her life? She should just run away and hide like a coward? And worst of all, she shouldn't even tell the truth? How could she agree to that? But then something else occupied her mind. Elphie still cared about her? After everything she'd done?
"Promise me!" Elphaba repeated, but this time she was pleading.
"Alright, I promise. But I don't understand..."
"I'm limited, just look at me; I'm limited. And just look at you, you can do all I couldn't do, Glinda."
There was an edge in Elphaba's voice that Glinda couldn't quite place. When she looked at her more closely, she noticed that something had changed. The sparkle in her eyes was gone. It had scared her when she first saw it, back in another attic, many months ago. Elphie had been determined to do what she knew was right, no matter the cost. She had been so full of energy and anger. All that was gone, and it scared Glinda even more. Now, Elphie's face only reflected resignation. She had realized she was defeated. She had lost.
But then she squared her shoulders and retrieved a book from the bag she wore around her, as always. "Here, go on, take this."
Before she could do anything about it, the ancient book of spells lay heavy in Glinda hands. The Grimmerie. "Elphie," she stumbled, "you know I can't read this. Elphie?" She didn't know what was happening and what Elphaba thinking, giving her that precious book.
"Well, then you'll have to learn. Now it's up to you, for both of us."
Fear crept up Glinda's spine and all the color drained from her face. "Now it's up to you." Very slowly Glinda began to understand where all this was heading, but she refused to even acknowledge the thought. It couldn't be. There had to be another way!
"You were the only friend I've ever had." Past tense already, Glinda thought.
"And I've had so many friends," she heard herself answer, "but only one that mattered." Her right hand clutched the Grimmerie tightly, while the other reached for the green hand of her friend.
"I've heard it's said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn, and we are lead to those who help us grow the most if we let them, and we help them in return. Well, I don't know if I believe that's true. But I know I'm who I am today, because I knew you. Like a comet pulled from orbit, as it passes a sun. Like a stream that meets a boulder, halfway through the wood. Who can say if I've been changed for the better, but I because I knew you I have been changed for good."
Tears welled up her eyes, but she suppressed them. She didn't want it to appear more as the goodbye than it already did. Because it was not.
"And well, maybe, we will never meet again in this lifetime. So let me say before we part, so much of me is made of what I learned from you. You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart. And whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend. Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind of the sea. Like a seed dropped by a sky bird in a distant wood. Who can say if I've been changed for the better, but because I knew you I have been changed for good."
By no later than Elphie's second sentence the cruel truth hit her with full force. Elphaba was going to surrender despite the fact that they both knew it would mean her death. Glinda feared that her legs would not hold her upright, but she didn't even sway. Instead she simple squeezed her friend's hand harder, as if to hold on to her.
"And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for" the witch continued and almost caused Glinda to laugh out loud. You, ask me to forgive you? she thought. After everything I've done? But then she thought of Fiyero and how much she had hated Elphie, both of them. But it felt so stupid now, that they would let a guy come between them.
"But then I guess we know there's blame to share, and none of it seems to matter anymore."
Now it was Elphaba who squeezed her hand. "I do believe I have been changed for the better," they then said in unison before they fell into each other's arms. Glinda held Elphaba close, fighting back the tears and the desperation. This couldn't be the end. It simply could not be true. Her mind neglected to accept that she would see Elphie for the last time, hold her for the last time, hear her voice for the last time. She would hold on to her until the witch hunters came. They wouldn't do anything to Elphaba as long as she was with her. They wouldn't risk hurting her, would they?
But after some long moments it was Elphaba who pulled away, reluctantly, but with determination in the lines of her face. "You have to hide. No one can know you were here. Hide yourself!" And Glinda obeyed, hiding behind a curtain. Later she had no idea why. She couldn't remember why she hadn't spoken up again or simply refused to step away from her side. Maybe it had been cowardice. Or maybe, deep in her heart, she had understood that Elphie was right, and it was the only way, the only way at least one of them could do good.
And then they were there, the witch hunters, Boq among them. It was a short fight. Someone opened the trap door and freed Dorothy, who grabbed the water bucket and emptied it over Elphaba's head. Glinda had hoped that fear and desperation and the curtain would somehow blur her eyesight, but her body refused to do her that favor. She could witness everything with frightening clarity. The moment the water came in contact with Elphaba's green skin, she screamed ear-piercingly. Bright light radiated from her body while she became smaller and smaller until she, only a second or two later, was gone altogether. Just like that.
Glinda crouched behind the fabric and stared in disbelieve at was happed before her own eyes, unable to move, unable to react in any way. She heard the hunters celebrate and scream "she's dead" over and over again, until they all finally left.
Still frozen she sat and stared. Only the movement of a tiny, furry hand, who shoved the curtain away, brought life back into her body. She recognized Chistery, but didn't mind him at all. Slowly, she stumbled to the place where she had seen Elphaba last. But all that was there was that hat of hers and the small green bottle she had always kept under her pillow.
Sobbing, she fell on her knees, tears streaming over her face. With shaking hands she grabbed the hat and pressed it against herself. Her mind was blank; it only screamed Elphie over and over and over again. Later she could not tell how long she had been sitting on that floor of the attic in Kiamo Ko. She cried until she thought that there were no more tears left in her. But when she looked down at the hat in her hands she remembered the day she had given it to her and tears welled up in her all over again.
At some point the tears subsided and the sobbing faded away. She felt empty and exhausted, and she barley noticed that Chistery was still sitting next to her. Now that Glinda had stopped crying, he reached his hand out to her and tried to get her attention.
"Miss." he whispered in a low voice. "Miss Glinda." Surprised, she looked up. She'd never heard the winged monkey speak before.
"Oh, Chistery," she mumbled. Elphie would be so proud of him. That almost did it again, but this time, she was herself enough to stop the tears. And now she saw that he was holding something in his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Chistery" she said and took Elphaba's bottle from him. "Thank you."
As with many details from that day, Glinda later had no memory of how she had gotten back to the Emerald City. But she eventually returned with an old book, a black hat and a tiny green bottle firmly held in her hands. She had managed to sneak in, unnoticed by the celebrating crowd and hid in her room for the next twenty-four hours or so.
She remembered that she had cried a lot in that time. She had cried over Fiyero, who she had loved, but who had never loved her back and who was dead now. But mostly she had cried over Elphaba, the strange girl she had hated in the beginning as much as she had loved her later. She had grown to love her like a sister, a best friend, someone she could rely on. And now she was forever gone.
But in between her grieving, when she was too exhausted to cry anymore, she also had time to think. As the hours passed by, it became cleared to her what she had to do next. First, she realized that she couldn't hide in this room forever. She would have to face the public very soon. Secondly, she had promised Elphie that she would not try to clear her name. That meant she had to lie. And the worst part, really, was that she would have to pretend to be happy about the death of the Wicked Witch of the West and join in their celebrations. And she had no idea if her acting skills were good enough to conceal her grief. She had to try. She owed this much to Elphie.
Something else had also crossed her mind when she was staring at the green bottle that had belonged to her friend. She could clearly remember the night she had first seen it, the night after that ball in their first year at Shiz, the night they had become friends. Elphie had told her it had belonged to her mother who had died giving birth to Nessa. She had seen it many times after that because Elphie always kept it under her pillow. But she had also seen it somewhere else, not so long ago. It had been in the Emerald City, the day she Fiyero left her for Elphaba. She hadn't realized the resemblance back then because she was too absorbed in self-pity, jealously, hurt pride and the pain of her broken heart. Now she remembered that curious fact and got to thinking about it.
Most importantly, however, she knew that she had to live up to the promise she had given Elphaba. She had to finish what she had begun, no matter how long it might take or what it may cost. And she felt up to that. If she could not clear Elphie's name, the least she could do was make sure she hadn't died for nothing. Oz would become the place Elphie had dreamed of: a land where everybody was free to live their own beliefs, where animals where a respected and beloved part of the society and allowed to speak out loud.
After a day in her room, she had made up her mind and knew what she had to do. It helped to look to the future to find the strength she would need. However, it did nothing to ease the pain. She knew nothing would. Nothing would ever be the same without Elphie. She would always miss her, always think about her and it would always hurt remembering her.
But she put that away for now. Actions had to be taken. With her head held high, she marched into the private rooms of the Wizard, the little green bottle held tightly in her hands. The door flew open as she entered without knocking. The Wizard and Madame Morrible both jumped at her sudden appearance.
"Oh, Miss Glinda! I thought you'd be out festivating." Of course she was here, too, Glinda thought. All the better. She had a score to settle with her, too. But that would have to wait until she was done with the Wizard.
She took the bottle and held it right in his face. "This was Elphaba's!" Startled he pulled back and eyed the container suspiciously.
"What's that you say?"
"It was a keepsake; it was her mothers. She told me so herself." Again, she felt that all too familiar knot in her throat, but she tried to ignore it the best she could. "I've only seen a little, green bottle like this one other time. It was right here, in this very room. You offered me a drink from it." Glinda shook the bottle a little to increase the dramatic effect but stayed quiet apart from that.
"But," the Wizard muttered, "oh, my lord!" His eyes became bigger and started to shine with tears. "I am a sentimental man who always longed to be a father." He sank to his knees, shaking, but Glinda couldn't pity him. He was the reason that Elphie was… well, for what had happened.
Madame Morrible, however, grew very excited and ignored the crying Wizard before her. "So that was it. That's why she had such powers! She was a child of both worlds!"
The true wickedness in her reaction caused Glinda nausea, but she wasn't done with the Wizard yet. With all the strength she had she steadied her voice before she spoke. For you, Elphie, she thought. "I want you to leave Oz. I'll make the pronouncement myself: that the strains of Wizardship have been too much for you, and you are taking an indefinite leave of absence!" And it worked; her voice was cold as ice, and she could sense that he would not dare to protest. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, your goodness" he replied with a low voice, getting up from the floor, still shaking.
To make her point clear Glinda added, "You'd better go get your balloon ready." The Wizard nodded and fled the room.
Without taking time to celebrate her triumph, she turned to Madame Morrible. Again thinking of Elphaba and of how strong she had been all the time, she gathered all the braverism she could muster. "Guards," she called out.
"Glinda, dear, I know we've had our miniscule differentiations in the past...".
"Guards", Glinda called again, interrupting her. "Madame, have you ever considered how you'd fare in captivity?"
"What?" The girl was quite proud when she saw disbelief and a slight fear in Morrible's face.
"Captivity," she repeated. "Prison. Personally, I don't think you'll hold up very well. My professional opinion is that you do not have what it takes. I hope you prove me wrong. I doubt you will." She made a short pause after each sentence, increasing the effect she hoped to create. Looking into Madame Moribble's eyes without blinking, she knew she hadn't failed. As the guards finally came into the room she turned away from her. "Take her away," she said, ignoring Morrible's screams and protest. She got what she deserved.
After everyone had gone, Glinda had to sit down for a moment. She felt exhausted and her legs were shaking. Tears tried to sneak up on her again. "Oh Elphie, how could you leave me alone in this?" she whispered.
Outside the palace people were still celebrating wildly. They were singing and dancing, throwing themselves into each other's arms and planning their future that once again seemed so free and unlimited. Glinda stood at the window in one of the emerald towers and observed the scene outside. It wouldn't be easy to join into their joy. But she had to try.
With a last deep sigh she opened the window and stepped out onto the balcony. "Fellow Ozians," she began, immediately catching everybody attention. "Friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda, the Good."
Cheers erupted from the crowd below, she heard some people scream "Good news", others chanting her own name. She managed to produce a smile on her face. People still loved her, and they would follow her. Elphie had been right; she only had to use the powers she had to guide these people and do good.
"Who can say if I've been changed for the better," she whispered too quietly for any of them to hear. "But because I knew you." Irritated, she stopped and held her breath. She could have sworn she had heard somebody, someone else's voice beside her own.
Warily she shook her head. She must have gone crazy after all. It was just the voices from the people below her, who had gone back to their celebration. Chanting of "No one mourns the Wicked" and "She's dead" could be heard. It was stupid of her to think she had heard Elphaba's voice.
"Because I knew you," she repeated, "I have been changed."
There it was again. Glinda spun around, staring around the room behind her. "Elphie?" Her voice was barely more than a breath. But there was no answer. There was no one there. She was all alone in that dark room in an empty castle.