A/N I was inspired by disneyqueen's oneshot, Grave Of A Friend, ages ago, and I just had to write my own version. The two are scarily similar, but I promise I haven't read it since I started writing, or even started thinking about writing. I hope you like it. Please review.
Also, my 10th fanfiction and my 10th oneshot. Yay!
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never has been, probably never will be. Sorry.
A Lily On Her Grave?
A cloaked figure stood on the balcony of the Emerald Palace, high above the celebrations. It had been an entire year since the death of the Wicked Witch of the West, the terror of Oz and every citizen was cheering in relief or joy or gratitude. All except one. The figure on the balcony was not celebrating. It stood, keeping an eye on the events down below, but clearly lost in its own thoughts.
As the noise began to die down and the evening's celebrations came to an end, the figure turned away, a tear running down its cheek as it did so. It entered the light of the Emerald Palace and it could be seen that the figure was a young woman, a slight girl with perfectly styled blonde curls and a stunningly beautiful face.
She hurried through the ornate corridors and into a well manicured courtyard. At its centre stood a willow tree which draped its elegant leaves all over the garden. Surrounding the tree roots were beds of tulips, in various shades of pink and red, planted in uniform rows. It was beautiful but rarely used, it seemed.
The figure crossed into the garden, and brushed aside the leaf curtain to reach the space underneath the tree. The trunk was encircled in a ring of light grey stones, some of which were scratched and engraved with silver markings. She paused, as if she had forgotten something and turned back and out of the tree's clearing. In a matter of moments though, she had returned, clutching a bright pink tulip.
She laid it carefully on one of the stones, the one which was inlaid with three symbols. She knelt on the ground in front of it for a moment and allowed a single tear to fall on the grass beside her. She placed her hands over her heart and took a deep breath.
The woman was Glinda, Glinda the Good of Oz. The tomb she was visiting was for the Wicked Witch of the West. She should have been the most pleased that she was dead and gone. But in fact, many years ago these two women had been friends, best friends. And despite the labels that society had given them, they had remained that way. But how could two women, with destinies so far apart remain such good friends? How could one woman, who was expected to cheer at the other's death, ever be safe to mourn her best friend?
The reality was that she wasn't. Even after all this time, her tears had to fall in private. Her makeshift grave was concealed in a palace garden, unclear and unmarked. It was coded with symbols from the Grimmerie, and Glinda had chosen three symbols to mean EMT. That couldn't lead anyone to the Wicked Witch of the West, could it? No one could ever find out that Elphaba Melena Thropp had a grave in the Emerald Palace, even if they didn't know who it really was.
But on nights when she couldn't sleep, the best thing to do was sit by the grave, where no one could see her and allow the tears to fall. And tonight, on the anniversary of her death, she had to pay her a visit and spend a moment thinking of her best friend. But she couldn't stay long. She couldn't risk anyone finding her.
So she allowed just one more tear to fall and just one more memory of her beautiful, loyal and passionate friend called Elphie to pass through her mind before turning away and retreating into the palace. It had been difficult without her, but Glinda feared, whatever she did or tried to do, that it would only get worse...
A/N What did you think? Please tell me. Please review.