AN: Hello everyone! So this story here is gonna be a three shot-outlining Glinda's slow descent into insanity. I really enjoyed writing it, and I hope you'll like reading it! CC is appreciated; flames will be used to ward off the bogsnart…yadda yadda yadda. Enjoy!
A flash of green. The whoosh of a black cape. A cackle. A whisper. My sweet...
And that was when she woke up. Glinda Arduenna Upland; Glinda the Good; Throne Minister of Oz-woke up with a jolt. She clapped a hand over her mouth and bit her tongue-all Glinda's self control was used to keep from screaming. If she did, the guards would come. And they would know something was wrong.
'No,' Glinda told herself. 'Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.' Everything was always perfect, she was Glinda the Good-everything must be perfect.
Glancing subconsciously to her left, Glinda was once again struck by the absence of her husband. Lord Chuffrey had been dead for exactly one month, ten days, four hours, and five minutes…yet Glinda still expected him to be there. Everyone who she loved left her. Fiyero, Chuffrey…and Elphie, dear Elphie.
Elphie-whose presence, had been reappearing in her dreams ever since the death of her dear husband. Elphie, whose death she still relived every single day, replaying it over and over in her head. It was enough to make one go simply mad. But she was Lady Glinda-and everything was fine.
So what if she had to cover the dark circles under her eyes with layers of makeup? So what if her throat was hoarse every morning after hours of muffled screaming and crying? As long as she looked beautiful and acted as if nothing was wrong-nothing was. And that's all that mattered.
With that reassuring thought Glinda rose from her bed, to get ready for the morning's events. Then it hit her. Like a ton of bricks-she remembered. Today was the day-five years exactly had passed since the death of Elphaba. There was to be large celebration congratulation the two remaining victors who helped vanquish the Wicked One. And Glinda was expected to give a speech-a very large one at that.
She blanched, sitting back on the bed, and brought a hand to her mouth. How could she accomplish this? Glinda couldn't go one day without thinking of Elphie, and more often than not-she broke down. And now she had to attend a party and speak ill of her friend no less? Glinda shuddered, a few tears leaking out of her eyes-catching on her eyelashes before landing on her nightgown.
There was a knock at the door. "Lady Glinda?" called a timid voice, "I am here to dress you, the celebrations begin in one hour." the voice spoke. Glinda stood up, and wiped the tears from her eyes, not one person could know of her troubles. She opened the door enough that the servant could see her face, but closed enough that the servant could not see the mess that was Glinda's chambers. The bed covers were haphazardly thrown about the four poster bed, and the crystal lamp was shattered.
Glinda could not remember when that had happened-but assumed it was caused by her, whilst in one of her many nightmares…back to the matter at hand. The servant was staring was Glinda, eyes wide. 'I must look a mess,' Glinda mused to herself, 'Eyes red, hair rumpled. This is not the way a Lady should present herself to her servants-to anyone for that matter.'
Glinda gave a beaming smile at the young servant girl to show that everything was fine, everything was alright. "Why thank you Carina," she spoke politely, "But I do believe that I can dress myself today." Glinda finished with a small nod, acknowledging the fact that the servant girl had no choice; she would have to do whatever Glinda told her. Unless she wished to be let go from the staff. The little servant girl curtsied, and left the hall-scurrying off to do whatever job she had to do. Glinda sighed-closing the door and leaning up against it. She took a deep breath and went to begin her day-the worst one of the year.
As Glinda was putting on the finishing touches of her makeup, she looked at herself in the mirror. Staring back was the face of a woman who had gone through too much suffering in early years. There was a grimace on her pretty red lips, a wrinkle in her brow.
Glinda told herself to snap out of it. This was supposed to be the happiest day of the year. She plastered a fake smile on her face, hoping that it would hide the disgust and disappointment at the celebration of her best friend's death.
Glinda was about to walk out of the door to her chambers, to her mansion-and into hell, when she saw them. They were there, she supposed, beautiful for some. But for Glinda, they brought back dreadful memories. Someone had brought roses into her chambers. They were placed unassumingly on her side table, resting in a vase of glass, right next to a framed swatch of dark blue fabric.
Glinda felt herself getting choked up. The roses held exactly the same color, same smell-as the ones Elphie had had purchased her the night before they went to see the Wizard. She felt herself being brought back to the time when Elphie was… No. Not today. This could not happen, on today of all days. Glinda would not-could not have a breakdown in public. It would destroy her carefully cultured image. And that threat would be there as long as the roses were. So they must go.
Instead of simply throwing them away like she usually would with any unwanted trash, Glinda wanted no trace of the undesired flowers to remain. Tossing them into the stone fireplace, Glinda watched the roses burn with a satisfied smile on her face. Once she was assured that the abominations were truly gone, Glinda dusted off her hands and turned to the mirror. She fluffed her hair and checked her lipstick one last time, before exiting her chambers-the stench of burned roses lingering in the air.
Upon her exit, two burly guards were waiting to escort her to the place where she would present her speech. Arriving there, Glinda surveyed the packed crowd. Gillikuns, Winkies, Quadlings, Munchkinlanders, Emerald City people alike-it seemed as if all of Oz had come to hear her speak.
Glinda cleared her throat-and stepped up to the microphone. "Fellow Ozians," she began with her usual greeting, "How fare you on this wondrous day?" The crowd erupted into a roar, all cheering their excitement to be there. Once the crowd quieted down, Glinda resumed her speech. "Yes, you must all rejoicify-after all, today is the 5th anniversary of the death of the Wicked Witch Of The west!" she exclaimed.
The crowd, if possible-leapt into an even higher excitement, all whooping and hollering. Glinda had to bite her check to keep from expressing her true feelings, which would not be appropriate for this 'joyous' celebration-and would most likely send her to Southstairs. Though she was Throne Minister; the government did not take too kindly to people who went against them. Even if they were wrong.
Glinda took the Ozians' celebrating time to survey the crowd. Most were happy, elated-absolutely convinced of Elphaba's guiltiness. If someone were to tell them otherwise, those Ozians would not believe it, not at all. Then there were the others. The ones with doubt on their faces-the ones who asked 'Why?' Glinda liked those ones; it meant they could think for themselves.
Suddenly-Glinda stopped surveying the crowd…and froze. She had spotted a familiar face, or rather a familiar skin color. Even from the distance she was at, Glinda could tell that the person's coloring was the same shade of dear departed Elphie's. Artichoke green, absolutely wonderfully verdant. Coupled with the somewhat lighter green scar on the woman's right cheekbone-had Glinda convinced that she was seeing her dear departed friend, back from the grave.
"Elphaba?" she whispered disbelievingly.
AN: Well-here's the first chapter, I hope you liked it! Next chapter will have Glinda going a little crazier. Review button is down there, incase you'd like to leave some CC. As we know-flames will be used to ward off Horrible Morrible. Thanks for reading!