Title: The Road's End
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs to Universal Studios, and the Gregory Maguire.
Road's end
The room held a stench of age and decay that no amount of pretty scents could possibly disguise. Even to one such as he, who didn't really have a nose anymore, it was obvious. Fiyero Tiggular didn't hesitate though, as he entered the room of Glinda the good.
It had been decades since he had last laid eyes on the girl he had once been engaged to, but those decades of exile on the far reaches of Oz along with Elphaba didn't mean he didn't keep an eye on what was going on in the more populated regions.
Elphaba couldn't afford to be seen, but the scarecrow was a hero, and he regularly made trips to the villages within a day or two's travel from their chosen hideaway to keep himself abreast of what was happening. Elphaba had entrusted Glinda with the fate of Oz, and he had been as determined as she had, to make sure Glinda lived up to that promise.
Fiyero surveyed the room, not quite as pink as the one she had at Shiz, but still far more colorful than most would have, and tried not to grimace. Glinda had been good for Oz, despite enemies and opposition, she had managed to reverse the Animal banns, and over the course of nearly twenty years as the un-elected ruler of Oz, had managed to integrate the nation far better than any ruler since the family of Ozma had.
Even when she announced the formation of a more democratic Oz, one in which it's ruler was chosen by the people, the Animals, the Munchkins and Quadlings and everyone else, she found that the people of Oz didn't want to give her up, and she'd spent another decade as the elected ruler of the land.
Thirty years of public service, and a strong behind the scenes career after that making sure that what she had built wouldn't be torn down. A career that lasted almost as long as her reign had, only for it to come to this.
He moved towards the bed, years of stealthy travels paying their dividends as its occupant didn't even stir. Glinda was old now by anyone's standards and Fiyero knew that being here was a breach of his promise to Elphaba.
Even as the green Witch had lay dying of old age herself, she had made him promise that he wouldn't do anything stupid. She hadn't mentioned Glinda by name, but he had known what she meant. But for all that he loved Elphaba, and for all that her death had robbed all joy from his life, it was a promise he couldn't keep.
He knew that Glinda had lived her life under a shadow. Even in the hinterland of Oz stories had reached them, rumors of how the bright lady of the Emerald City would awake screaming, crying for the loss of someone dear to her.
It had been enough to try Elphaba's conviction that Glinda could never know the truth. For she had wanted nothing more than to go to her friends side, and find some way to help her. But she hadn't, and age had robbed her of that chance. Now it was up to Fiyero to make sure that when Glinda went onward into whatever came after life, she would do so knowing the truth.
"Who's there? Show yourself." a scratchy voice came out from the bed, even as its occupant tried to sit up. Once golden curls had gone gray and limp, and her face was sunken with age. She wouldn't pass for pretty these days, but there was an unmistakable tone of command in her voice.
"It is only I lady Glinda," he responded. "The Scarecrow." Even now that he was willing to tell her the truth, he wasn't sure the best thing to open with was his real name.
She relaxed back into the bed, and reached for a set of spectacles on her night-stand. "Scarecrow? I haven't seen you since Dorothy left." She exclaimed with some surprise. "I had hoped to see you one last time before I died."
He reached out and took a withered and spot-marked hand into his gloves and held it warmly. "Oh Glinda, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."
"That doesn't matter," she said, her voice urgent. She paused to cough, and even in her condition she managed to sound dainty doing it. "There's something you have to know. Something I need to tell you, need to tell someone before I'm through."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Do you remember the Witch, the one you helped Dorothy slay?" she asked.
As if he could forget. "Yes I do."
"I need you to know the truth about her. I once promised her I wouldn't tell anyone, but I can't die as Glinda the Good without telling someone the truth. It wouldn't be right."
Fiyero took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "I already know the truth about Elphaba," he finally said, and old eyes narrowed at him.
"How did you," her voice trailed off as she looked at him. The silence between them stretched out for moments.
"Because I knew her," he explained, his own voice going soft. "As I knew you, and Boq and Nessarose."
"Fiyero," Glinda said, her voice deep and certain. He didn't know for sure, but he could have sworn he heard shock in her voice, and wondered if he had any business shocking her given her condition. "Praise Lurline, Fiyero. It's really you isn't it?"
"Yes," he told her. "Elphaba cast a spell when the Gale Force took me away. She made it so I can never die, and I became a Scarecrow."
"But then how could you have helped kill her," Glinda asked, tears in her eyes. "Fiyero, you loved her. You left me for her, how could you kill her?"
Glinda's voice had never risen as she demanded answers from him, but as he was about to speak her eyes narrowed and he kept his mouth shut. For a few moments her eyes seemed to move rapidly from side to side, as if trying to figure something out.
"Elphaba," she finally said a note of wonder in her voice. "Elphaba lived, didn't she?"
Fiyero merely nodded. "Her death had to be faked to return peace to Oz; we lived near the desert on the Vinkus border after that. Until," his own voice faded as a lump came to his nonexistent throat.
"She's gone isn't she," Glinda said softly, tears running down her face. Sixty years in politics had truly changed her, Fiyero realized. She was far more perceptive than she had ever been back in the day. Of course it was unlikely that anyone could have changed Oz as much as she had if she had remained an airhead, but the change was unsettling.
"I'm sorry Glinda. We couldn't tell you, despite the fact that we both wanted to. We had to be safe, to keep you safe."
For several minutes both were silent. Glinda digesting the news, and Fiyero fearing for her reaction. She had every right to be angry with them both, but he knew it would devastate him to hear her say it.
"Were you happy?" she finally asked.
"For a long time," he responded. "The only thing we hated, was that we couldn't tell you the truth." He hung his head at the final admission.
"Oh Fiyero, thank you," Glinda said, and his head snapped up and their gazes met. "I've spent sixty years trying to do her memory proud, and all that time I regretted nothing more than that Elphaba's life had been cut so short. And now you've told me that she was happy."
"You're more forgiving than we deserve," he responded, and the withered hand rose to his cheek. "We abandoned you, left you thinking peace in Oz had been bought with the blood of your best friend."
"Nonsense Fiyero. How could I not forgive, when I know you did it because you cared, because you both loved me."
The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, memories drifting through both their minds, before Glinda leaned back in her bed.
"And don't grieve for me Fiyero, I'll soon be with Elphie again."
He almost laughed as her old nickname for Elphaba came to the fore, but that couldn't hide the ache in his heart as he took her in.
"Glinda," he said urgently. "I wish I could have told you sooner. Could have sat with you for longer and told you all the stories of what we've done these last six decades."
She smiled at him, "And I wish I could have told you of my children, and grandchildren dear Fiyero. They would have liked to have known the man their mother was always talking about. But I'm content with what I have, you here by my side, and knowing that my best friend was happy."
Glinda's eyes began to flutter closed, and Fiyero felt the impossible sensation of hot tears in his eyes.
"Glinda, goodbye my friend" he said, noting the way her chest was only rising slightly now. "When you get to the other side, tell Elphaba that I love her."
Glinda breathed once more, and the hand that was held in Fiyero's went limp.
Fiyero leaned over the body, his own racked with huge sobs as he realized that of all those who had lived that most remarkable tale, only he was left. Boq might still exist somewhere, but he had no idea of where, nor did it really matter now.
"Rest well," he murmured. "You've earned it, Glinda, the Good."
-finis-