A few of my readers asked me to do a sequel/companion to Masquerade. This can be considered either. I hope you enjoy
December 31
Emerald City Palace
Fifth Year of the Reign of Lady Glinda
It is with a peculiar sense of irony that I find myself here tonight, surrounded by so many thing that I have tried to forget. The swirling sea of couples fill the room below in a symphony of color and rhythm and for a brief moment, I am transported back to the years of my youth, quite at home in a spectacle such as this. Once upon a time, I lived for parties such as this. The spectacular pageantry and the fantastic mystery of any masquerade never failed to steal my breath. There is just something altogether wonderful in the sense of the unknown that seems to come with a gala such as this and I am a willing participant in this make-believe
One event stands out in my memory. It was a night very much like this and I was once again swept away, blinded by the spectacle and a sense of false bravado. It is a strange sort of madness, really. I am a man, a husband and yet I can close my eyes and I am once again transported back to that night, bound in the stiff and starched uniform of emerald green, and decorating the arm of a beautiful lady. My eyes open and I realize that is not the case. Tonight, at least, the dressing is of my own choosing, as is the lady.
Well, that's not completely correct, is it? I did choose the proper lady that evening, but only with my shallow convictions of what beauty was. My heart, my soul, had very little say in the matter. The uniform, on the other hand, had been completely out of my control. That was a combination of proper attire and Glinda's extravagant taste.
Tonight, I have once again adopted the outward persona of the debonair prince, but inside, the changes could not be more drastic. I am clad in a suit of vivid blue-green, a deep turquoise that is reminiscent of my first visit to the Oz-Dust. More than one pair of appreciative eyes linger on me as I move forward, much to my wife's chagrin. Although I often tease her about such things, she know hers is the only gaze that ever matters and it is only the presence of her small hand in mine that allows me to believe that we are really here.
A quick glance to my right assures me of this very fact. Elphaba stands proudly by my side and offers me a nervous smile. A shroud conceals her green skin for the evening and her raven hair hanging loosely down her back is the only homage paid to her guise as the Wicked Witch. My appearance has changes as well, thanks to the spell she used restore me to humanity. My sandy hair is now a dark brown, my eyes are blue instead of hazel, and three inches were added to my height.
I always wanted to be taller.
Moving farther into the room, it suddenly seems like every eye is upon us. I feel Elphaba tense beside me and I know she fears we will be discovered. It was risky, to come here tonight, but my wife's sorrow over the loss of her friend became too much to bear. Instead of revealing the truth and endangering both Glinda and ourselves, we chose to come tonight as anonymous guests. It is far from the ideal situation; we both know that, but I hope it will be enough to satisfy the desire to connect with our old lives.
Our attention is caught by the entrance of the person we had hoped to see and I feel my lips lift into a smile. Glinda stands at the top of the stairs, a welcoming smile painted on her lovely face. Her voice rings clearly through the room and one glance around tells em that she is as beloved by the people as she has always been. Sometimes, I suspected that it was her that caused the multitudes to swoon with delight and I was some sort of added bonus. The cliché handsome prince to her princess veneer. Perhaps that was the truth ad perhaps I would have been content to live such a life had I not spotted the lady next to me across the room that fateful night.
My gaze falls to her as she joins the rest in their adoration of the hostess. A sad smile is on her beautiful face and she is hanging on Glinda's every word. I never confessed my action of that night to Glinda; I myself wasn't even sure it had been real. Elphaba had been very similar in appearance to as she is presently, the only difference being that she has chosen a deep red instead of violet for tonight's event. She had taken my heart with her when she fled that night and, despite the fact that we are together permanently now, I am perfectly content to leave it in her hands. I know it is safe.
We, on the other hand, are not. We must guard ourselves very carefully against our hearts and sentiments that might cause us to give ourselves away. We know that finding that balance between what we may say and what we wish to say will be anything but easy, but we must be sure to sustain it. As much as we wish to let Glinda in on our secret, things have gone to far for that to be possible.
The orchestra chooses this moment to spring to life and Glinda is lead to the dance floor by a man I recognize as one of my former officers. He now dons the Captain's uniform and for a moment I feel a twinge of jealousy. It is not for the fact that he is my ex-fiancée's escort, but for the fact that he is regarded as a hero among the people. I stood where he once was and suddenly jealously turns to pity. It is a responsibility to be put on a pedestal such as he undoubtedly is and I secretly wish him well. He held promise as an officer, one fo the few who efused to take part in my demise, and I am semi-confidant in his ability to lead the Gale Force as they should be led.
My attention is snapped back to the present as Elphaba turns to take my hand. I am midely surprised when she begins to pull me in the direction of the dance floor, but the playful grin on her face promptly shuts me up and compels me to follow her. I gather her into my arms and lead us into a waltz, allowing the tempo of the music to sweep us away. I feel the first real smile of the evening pulling at my lips and succumb as I gaze into her beautiful brown eyes and, for a few blissful moments, we are as it always should have been and only we two exist.
"Glinda? Have you heard a word I've said?"
The Good Witch was startled out of her reverie by the voice of her escort for the evening. Dragging her gaze away from the strangely-familiar couple, she allowed herself to focus on her him. "Forgive me, dearest. It seems I was simply lost my thoughts."
Lord Adrian Riviran, current Captain of the Guard and her fiancé of two days, studied her for a few moments, concern etched on his handsome face. "Are you all right? Shall I fetch you something to drink?"
Glinda shook her head, sending her golden curls bouncing with the movement. "That's not necessary. Incredibly thoughtful," she smiled as she placed an adoring hand alongside his face. "But entirely unnecessary."
Adrian returned the sentiment, leaning to press a kiss to her cheek. "Then shall we dance?"
The blonde laughed. "I'd be a fool to deny you."
As they joined the midst of couples, Glinda felt her gaze once again drawn to the same duo that had caught her attention earlier. They made a lovely picture, she with her creamy skin and ebony hair created a striking contrast to the dark-haired man with the charming smile that was her escort. They were somewhat off her left. The man leant to whisper something in the woman's ear, causing a brilliant smile to blossom on her lips. They were clearly in love and Glinda wondered if she would ever feel that way again.
Her mind suddenly went to the man who held her in his arms. Adrian was a good man and he loved her completely. He was someone she trusted and was one of the few she had shared the full story of her past with. He knew she didn't love him the way he loved her, but he seemed content to be a second choice. He must have noted her staring, for he inquired, "Someone you know?"
She blinked, thinking that he knew her to well. "No. He simply reminds me of someone."
Following her gaze, Adrian caught her meaning and nodded, but said nothing. Glinda turned her head for a final glance, but the couple were no where to be found. Straining, she stretched her neck for a better view, but simply caused a misstep that sent her and Adrian a little to the right. Face red, she glanced up at her fiancé. "Forgive me, dearest. I don't seem to be as agile as I usually am."
A sad smile bloomed on his face and he kissed her hand. "I forgive you," was all he said.
Glinda returned his smile and squeezed his hand. It was enough.
"Why so quiet, my sweet?"
The silken tone of Elphaba's voice pulls me from my dreams, caressing me and sending shivers of awareness up my spine. I doubt that will even change. Oz knows it hasn't since our encounter with the Lion cub.
I simply shrug and smile charmingly. "perhaps I am lost to the magic of being in your arms, love."
Her eyes lift into their roll that I have come to love. Elphaba is far from the traditional belle of the ball, but in my eyes, she is the stuff that my dreams are made off. Deciding to push my luck, my hold on her increases, tightening the embrace and bringing our bodies a little more into the space that propriety demands of us.
Elphaba does little more than shake her head. "Perhaps I shall encourage that magic once we are alone," she whispers. "For now, I'll settle for what is troubling you.
It never fails to amaze me at how readable I am to her. One of the things I prided myself on in my youth was my carefree façade, but the woman ion my arms has always had a gift for seeing straight through me.
I simply shrug and say, "Are you not uncomfortable with so many eyes upon us?"
I see her eyes quickly scan the room. "I grew quite used to being started at years ago." Her gaze is pointed. "You should be used to it as well."
'That's not what I mean, Fae. I can almost feel them conjuring up the Wicked Witch…"
Elphaba's smile grows ironc and she leans further inot my embrace. "There is little need for that, don't you think?" Her voice grows to a whisper. 'For she is already here."
I frown. "My point exactly. 'Are you really that fearless that nothing from that life can touch you now?"
Put my fears to rest. Make me believe.
"One thing from that life is touching me now," His thumb is moving in a maddening circle over the pulse point at my wrist, "and I am very glad of it. As for the rest," Her shrug is nonchalant, "I care very little if all of Oz comes to know that the Witch was defeated by the Prince in the end.
Infuriating woman! "But, Fae," my words are silenced by her lips, the sweet warmth of her mouth so wonderfully intoxicating. I can never drink my fill, nor escape my addiction, and I certainly cannot care that everyone will see. I am suddenly quite calm, willingly under her spell. There is no evil here tonight—only Elphaba.
My dark angel, my reason for living, the love of my heart.
In this madness, I have found my reason.