Disclaimers: The characters aren't mine, sadly. Neither is the idea, actually, that came from Embers of Twilight via the Plot Bunny Forum. And 'Dorothy's clumsy house' belongs to Gregory Maguire, kudos to you if you tell me where it's said. Have fun!
One down, two to go.
Well, in a way.
With one Wicked Witch dead, the people would want the rest of their evils vanquished, the rest of their evils being, namely, one Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West. Sister to the Wicked Witch of the East. Lover to, or at least beloved of, the current captain of the Gale Force and prince of the Vinkus. And clandestine best friend to Oz's sweetheart and public leader, Glinda the Good.
One down: Dorothy's clumsy house had taken care of that, whether by coincidence or not. Two down: they would get to Elphaba, no matter what it took them. She was, after all, human, and mortal, no matter what they thought. Wickedness must be punished, evil effectively eliminated. Of course.
That left only Glinda, and Glinda was, at the moment, musing over her station.
Why was she where she was? Above everybody, figuratively and literally? What had put her here?
Well, the Wizard.
And how had she met the Wizard?
Ambition and hard work, she thought. Then: Stop lying, Glinda.
Elphaba. Elphaba had gotten her to the Wizard. It had been Elphaba's lifelong hope, to meet the Wizard. Funny to think how Glinda taken over her friend's goal of working with the Wizard. Funny how that ill-gained success had brought her to where she was today, to who she was today.
Funny how much Elphaba had shaped her.
Funny, also- Glinda hadn't realized it until now- funny how much she herself had shaped Elphaba.
They were linked, the two of them, thought Glinda, inextricably now. She fancied that she could still feel the print of her the other woman's fingers against her cheek, and she fancied that her own hand still stung.
"Well, we're all taking things that don't belong to us, now aren't we."
Glinda shut her eyes in remorse. Yes, but I was the other. And I just couldn't see it.
Inexplicably, she began to laugh.
I took your dreams, and you took mine. I think we're even, Elphie.
But still linked. Reassuring the people against the evil of the Wicked Witch had kept Glinda in their favor; the Wicked Witch had brought her into their favor in the first place. As Elphaba went down, so too would Glinda: not only the death of her status, if not now, then eventually, but also, it seemed to Glinda, a part of Glinda herself.
Three down.
Forget love triangles, thought Glinda, her heart twisting, this is a death triangle. As soon as the cyclone hit, she'd realized that. All she wanted now was to fling herself down on her bed and sob her heart out to her roomie. But that had been the privilege of Miss Galinda, and Miss Galinda was no more: she'd become, Glinda thought, the person she should have been back then. Because of that selfsame roomie.
The crowd was steadily becoming a mob outside. Glinda rose: returning a childhood, or a lost dream, was beyond even her power, but a warning was not, and neither was a plea.
Because I knew you…
I have been changed, for good.
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