~OzOzOz~
Miss Elphaba Tourlock awoke quite suddenly. Alone in her bed, her fingers stretched out towards someone she thought was there. For a moment, she stared at the spot, watching her fingers trace lines in the air. As they danced, they drew in the face she had been dreaming about. That familiar jawline, the faint indents on the skin that always seemed to imply diamonds. She frowned, letting her digits fall.
I would rather not have that dream again. She thought, rubbing the image of that dark complexion out of her mind as she slinked out from under the opulent covers. She seated herself at her vanity, sighing and examining her complexion. I get to see myself grow older, and I'll only know his face in his youth. How terrible I'll feel in a few years if I'm still dreaming about a college boy.
She scoffed at that, drawing her hair into a low bun with an elegance that had escaped her in her time at Shiz. She would prefer to forget his face, stop thinking about him all together. He certainly wasn't having any dreams about her; if he were she would get a letter every now and then. Her thoughts, or rather her attempts to stop thinking, followed her to the armoire as she slipped on a simple black housedress and still, even as she left the room, the image of his hands on her waist followed her.
Despite the simplicity of her dress, one could tell it was quite expensive with the right eye. From the intricate stitching to the weighty fabric to the rare buttons that ran down the front in a crisp line, it was clearly bought from a very deep purse. It paired well with the marble staircase, the dark stained bookshelves and the unnecessary amount of bathrooms, studies, dining rooms, bedrooms, spare rooms and closets… The list goes on, and Elphaba herself couldn't be sure if she had seen every room that her home had to offer. It always seemed too much to her, but she found if she closed her eyes more often, she didn't feel so overwhelmed.
As she enjoyed the sensation of a particularly soft hallway rug on her feet, she cursed under her breath. Bare feet are reserved for people who can't afford shoes, and really have no place stomping around our beautiful home. She recalled him and his words, silently mocking her husband's odd quirks as she rounded a corner and made way for the front door. She always kept a spare pair of flats in several locations, just for moments like these. Running back up that grand, much-too-big staircase just for a pair of shoes used to ruin her mornings.
The flats had been carefully placed, right by the large white entrance with its carved archway. As she ran to them and slipped them on, the door opened quite suddenly, and she leapt back. As she grunted in surprise, a maid stepped through the threshold.
"Oh, beg your pardon, Madame. I just came from collecting the mail." The girl said apologetically.
"You haven't ruined my morning." Elphaba assured, stopping for a moment to search for the girl's name. As they stood in awkward eye contact, it dawned on her that she didn't recognize this one. The silence continued, the maid waiting in a strange limbo. Elphaba could see her thinking process; should I leave? Should I wait for her to say something? Poor thing was intimidated. The lady of the house quickly searched for a topic, a reason to break the silence and send one of them on their way.
"I'll take that." She said, in a tone that generally implied a sour attitude to anyone who didn't know her. She had a bad habit of sounding negative, even in her best of moods. She reached out for the post, a pile of official letters and business that she knew little about.
"Madame, I was told to-"
"Bring the mail to my husband, I'm sure. No need, I would rather bring it myself."
Wiping a small amount of sweat from her forehead, the servant gave a quick bow, a meek "very well" and scurried off down one of the hallways. Elphaba watched her go, and then turned her attention to the pile in her hand. The top letter was addressed, as she guessed, to her husband. Some business from the south, boring, boring. She wandered down the hall, aiming for the study she knew her husband preferred. As she did, she shuffled the papers, just in case there happened to be any news for her. Perhaps a letter from Shiz, or Nessa or…
No.
She froze in her tracks, staring at the letter in her hand addressed to one Miss Elphaba Tourlock, of the Tourlock Estate of Great Gillikin. Her hands flew, tearing open the packing and unfolding the letter waiting inside. She read it once, twice, and then furrowed her brows. What nerve.
She stomped into the study, where Steiner Tourlock sat huddled over some papers next to a comforting, crackling fire. He was a handsome man, no one could deny that. He had a fair complexion, as most Gilliken folk did, was well built, and had a pair of simply striking grey eyes. In their early years, Elphaba often stared at him from her side of the bed, or dinner table, smitten like the girls she used to mock. She often tangled her fingers in his hair, wondering how she'd won such a fine gentleman. He looked up from his work just as she dumped his mail in front of him. His eyes widened in a strange, dark surprise that she would have seen had she been paying attention.
"Elphaba, why do you have that?" He noticed his own tone, and adjusted himself quickly, "You never bother with retrieving the mail."
Ignoring his questions, her temper flared as she paced, "She says she wants us to come to Chuffrey's birthday celebration. I've barely met the man more than twice! She also says that it's a shame we don't see more of each other. Really! The nerve, what right does she have to say that?"
"Elphaba-"
"One letter. One letter in three years and it's an invitation to be a seat filler at her bland husband's birthday!"
"Elphaba, the fireplace!"
She ignored his warnings as he rose from his seat, approaching her. In her rant, she was oblivious to the steadily rising fire. It grew so intensely that it clearly could not be any natural means, and threatened to engulf the whole estate. Still, she continued.
"Of course, I was good enough for her in Shiz after her pretty friend's abandoned her for fairer company. She adored me when it was convenient for her, but the moment we graduate-"
Her speech was cut off by a rough slap. She paused, eyes wide as she noticed the fireplace for the first time. Enchanted flames had been licking at the onxy arch that adorned the pit, glowing green and taking strange shapes. It was dying down now, as Steiner took her in his arms.
"Thank you." She said as he stroked the very cheek he had bruised.
"Keep breathing, dear." He said, "You've got to stop these outbursts."
"I haven't lost control in years." She protested, pushing away from him and seating herself in the far corner of the room. Her eyes were locked on the fire, watching the bewitched flames return to normal with each breath she took. There was silence for a while, and eventually Steiner moved to toss the letter into the fire.
She stiffened in her chair, "What are you doing?"
He stared back in disbelief, "Clearly we wont be going."
Her voice caught in her throat. He examined her face.
"Clearly we wont be going." He repeated, a harsher tone this time, tossing it into the flames.
Elphaba let out a gasp, and the parchment shot quickly out of the pit, skidding across the floor and landing at her feet. He bristled at the sight, his disapproval obvious. She lurched forward, collecting the precious piece and clutching it in her hands.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She said immediately, of the magical outburst, "I promise it will stop."
"Elphaba, look at the state you were in over her. We can't attend a party and expect that you won't destroy the place. Someone will get hurt."
"It doesn't happen that often." She shot back.
She looked up to an unsympathetic face. Her mouth contorted, "Please, Steiner, I think I need to see her."
He sighed, "Glinda abandoned you. You said so yourself. A moment ago you were all but cursing her name, now you say you want to see her?"
"It's not that far, we're near enough to the Uplands. If I'm unhappy, we can leave right after dinner."
"Why should we give her that? She hasn't bothered to see you since our wedding."
She felt the conversation hit a wall. Steiner was right, and when he was right he didn't allow much room for negotiation.
"She has ignored every letter you've sent her. Clearly, she isn't worth our time, and that letter belongs in the fire."
He was right, of course he was right. He's always right, she thought with just a little bitterness. She would be happier to ignore the invitation, she was sure. But still, if she could just speak to Glinda... Maybe they could reconnect, finally talk about what had caused them to grow apart, what had caused Fiyero to disappear from her life. As quickly as he had flashed across her mind, she pushed him from her thoughts. No, she wouldn't ask about him. She didn't need to know about him, she didn't care. She folded the letter neatly.
"Steiner-"
"No." He said firmly, seating himself back at the desk and reaching for the letters that had been forgotten.
"Yes."
He looked up, his eyes glowing as they reflected the flames.
"I'm going," She continued, "If I have to magic my way there, I'm going. But I get the sense you'd rather not undo all our hard work on that, so it would be better if we just took a carriage together."
His lips twisted, she could see him biting back something. He clenched his pen like one would clench a throat.
"If you really want to." He said, through gritted teeth.
"I do."
"Fine," He said, releasing his grip on the quill. She could see the red marks on his hand from holding it so hard. Satisfied, she turned to leave before he could make another argument.
"In the future," He said as she stepped out, "Let the maids handle the mail."