Disclaimer: I own Wicked now. I stole it from Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, Joe Mantello, and the rest of the gang, while I disappeared from this website. I literally chased the audience out of the Gershwin theater, and took over the entire production.
A/N: Sooo, it's been a while. I stalked some other musicals, became obsessed with several other character pairings, and hopefully learned how to write better. I even tried to deny my fangirl obsession with Fiyeraba, but even as obsessed as I now am with Jane/Rochester (Jane Eyre), Danielle/Henry (Ever After), and Regina/Daniel (Once Upon a Time), that pairing was always in the back of my mind, and it wasn't until ALAYM came on shuffle the other day that I realized how much I missed my Wicked fanfiction.
Oh, and in case you happen to get the inside joke, INNERMorrible is back. Oh, yes.
OzDammit. Oscar paced back and forth. He wasn't really thinking, but he certainly looked like he was, and he'd become something of an expert when it came to the façade. He smiled to himself when he realized he'd sworn by his own name.
And, now, here came Morrible, to do the actual thinking for him, with the severe click of heels on marble and swish of a velvet gown echoing throughout the chamber. "Well?" she asked, raising a carefully manicured eyebrow in question.
"I'm afraid our Captain of the Guard had… other plans." He chose the words carefully, genuinely fearing his press secretary's response. Fiyero had indeed had "other plans", but the wizard could not for the life of him pinpoint the reasons behind the man's decision – escape from his overbearing fiancé, perhaps? Or, his daunting position? Or, maybe…
"Do you think it could be a trap, Madame? To capture Elpha – " he cleared his throat, "the witch?"
"Are you really that dense?" Morrible snapped, glaring at the wizard with bulging, silver eyes. A moment later, though, she continued, calmly. "Analyze your opponents, please, Your Ozness. The fool has a brain the size of a pecan, and if you think he's strategizing that far ahead, you hardly have a right to sit on that throne. In this case, I believe his intention was quite clear."
The wizard's eyebrows crept together, until his face lit with realization. "You're not implying that he… that he likes her."
Morrible studied him quizzically for a moment. "Are you in second grade? They're adults, sir. Love, lust, call it what you will, but I would prefer not to trifle with senseless emotions. My point is that we need something to satisfy newspaper headlines before reporters jump to conclusions, and more importantly," the woman grinned, "now we have Elphaba's weakness. She may be smart, and she may be powerful, but what do you think she'll do when her poor, helpless prince is kidnapped by prison guards and tortured in ways that are, well… creative to say the least." The woman's eyes flashed with the thrill of imagining the traitor squirm beneath the snap of a whip and hair-thin tips of needles, as his lover fell to the ground, literally begging for his release. "True love is over-rated, don't you agree?"
"Quite, Madame." But, he couldn't help feeling a wave of compassion for the pair, Elphaba, especially. Not long ago, they might have settled this with Glinda, and held a wedding. Perhaps, he could have even walked her down the aisle… The thought made no sense, but he couldn't help feeling a strange sort of kinship to the green girl, ever since he'd first seen her, eyes alit with ambition.
Glinda stifled her sobs at she listened to the conversation, the door to the throne room just slightly ajar. She hated them both. He was a… a… she tried to think of an awful enough word – an asshole. She was a whore. The thoughts were perhaps satisfying, but she couldn't bring herself to accept them in her heart. Maybe, she was just a blonde ignoramus like Morrible insisted. But, she had an idea. It might not save her friends' freedom, but it could save their lives. Taking a breath, Glinda strode into the chamber. "Use her sister." The blonde barely managed to keep her voice from cracking. "Spread a rumor. Make her think that her sister is in trouble. Then, you'll have her." The pain in her voice was perhaps mistaken for envy or resentment – she couldn't deny those emotions. And, in a way, it was still an act of selfishness – if she saved her friend's and fiancé's lives, maybe they would finally realize how wrong they were to abandon her.
But, perhaps, this was the first step to being a truly good person. To living up to that name, that image, that had torn her apart from the inside since she was deemed "Glinda the Good".
Not long after, she would become everything that the name implied and more.
A/N: I'm going to fail my history exam tomorrow, but a few reviews may just make it worthwhile. :D