This will most likely be a threeshot if it continues. This is also a "Get It All Out" story because I was put down a lot today. So I hope you like it, and maybe you could brighten my day with a review?
As every person in Oz slept, the moon became the only light over the vast land. Few people woke early after a night like this. The renowned antagonist of Oz was declared dead.
Everybody agreed that she must be remembered. All over Oz, in fact, she was an intruder to pleasant dreams; a thorn from her mother, the named Rose of West Hardings; an example of wickedness for young children.
Fools.
The night was dark, of course, but if your eyes were indeed open, you could see the anxious eyes and wrung hands of the green woman.
She was alone in the centre of the forest, her long black dress blending in with the night and her pointed hat shielding her face. The atmosphere was a bitter cold, and the soft wind did nothing to help. She was used to cold, though, and it did not bother her.
She stood there, her head tilted and her eyes closed. She was waiting, but she had begun to get quite impatient. She expected to feel strong warm arms come around her lean body any second now, but with every passing second her confidence and expectant heart lost its petals of hope.
Her lover told her he'd come for her soon in a hushed whisper before they shared a kiss just hours ago. He hadn't returned.
The crickets played for her to replace the lovely sounds from the birds. This woman heard her lover play an instrument for her before. She had closed her eyes and listened so carefully, wanting to absorb every aspect of the lulling tune into her craving heart.
She swayed here, in the forest, pretending her paramour was right there with her. That he played his songs to her from his whistle. That they were again, by the warm fire, very much in love...
Her eyes opened, ready to look into his loving blue ones, but she only saw darkness.
She gripped her wooden broom tightly, trying to hold her anger in. What if he saw that she was mad? He may have considered her ungrateful for everything he'd done. And then the witch would surely be alone. Maybe even in this forest. Alone forever.
It was a strong word, forever. Never ending. Eternity. It could mean to very large things: Either peace, bliss and good fortune, or never-ending despair.
The witch jumped as a snap sounded from the bushes. She hiked up her long dress a bit and cautiously ventured toward the sprig of leaves.
"Fiyero?" The woman's voice was kissed by fog, curling and unfurling like a snake before it disappeared.
She slowly extended a shaky hand to push back the bush's leaves, and her heart pounded as a figure jumped out.
The woman fell back onto the cold hard ground, the dirt hitching into the cloth of her dress and her elbows. Scrambling to get up, she thrust an arm out to grab her broom.
The dark figure took the other end of it, the part that pointed at its heart, and stood still.
The wicked witch waited with it, curious to see what it would do, before she saw a long tail peek from behind it. This was not a human.
"My Elphaba?" The figure spoke in a rough, uncertain voice, and she rolled her eyes as she stood.
"Chistery. Why are you out so late?" the green woman asked. She had winced at her name. Elphaba. Used so rarely by others.
"I came to alert you." Chistery leapt up, bowing lowly. As all of Elphaba's flying monkeys, he lived to please her. After all, hadn't she saved them from the famous (or maybe not so famous) wizard of Oz?
"Of what? What could be harm to me?" Elphaba asked. But of course, she knew the answer. Even if Oz believed her to be dead, she still had other friends...and they were very much alive, as well as wandering the streets of Oz.
"It's the prince. Fiyero. He's joined the Gale Force."
"He had joined days ago, dear one. He won't hurt us."
"No," Chistery said in a hoarse whisper. "But they'll hurt him."
Elphaba paused, the stirring leaves in the breeze falling against her dress to land peacefully on the ground. She hadn't really thought of Fiyero's protection. Wasn't he safe? Even while Elphaba had thought him vain and brainless, he could actually hold his own ground.
"Fiyero seeks nothing that would bring him harm," She dissmissed the quote with a wave her hand. "He'll be alright. He promised he'd come."
"But wouldn't it be wise to go and see if he's safe? Milady, there are those who doubt him. Oz, yes. They fear he's starting a rebellion."
"The ones who think that have no hope," Elphaba said softly. "They needn't be afraid. I never was."
"But before your mother died, you said you promised her you'd do great things!" Chistery declared. And it was true. Elphaba did remember making that promise 23 years ago, when she was just a child, standing by the deathbed of her expectant mother. Chistery had grown fond of Fiyero, and he'd remind Elphaba of her promise every so often when she felt she needed to stay put where she was.
Tonight was no different, in both Chistery's good intentions and the returning dismissive wave of Elphaba's hand.
"I did promise my mother I would do something great," She replied. "But I never said I would do something good."
Chistery bowed his head and folded his hands. "You used to be different."
Elphaba's mouth turned down. "Well, then, if you're so eager to find him..."
Elphaba did miss him with all her heart. If Fiyero did not return, her heart would break. More than it had already. And then who was to stop the Wicked Witch of the West?
Elphaba patted her monkey's arm.
"Come now," she whispered. "I know what it means to fly."