Good evening, all! So, it's a secret to no one that I LOVE Hamilton. I'm almost as obsessed with it as I am with Wicked. And one of my favorite songs from Hamilton is Dear Theodosia, where Hamilton and Burr become fathers for the first time. I think it's awesome how Lin showed through just one song how alike Hamilton and Burr are in this one experience. So, of course, I had to do something similar with Elphaba and Glinda. I would definitely recommend listening to Dear Theodosia either before, while, or after you read this fic.

Enjoy!

Blow Us All Away

One Shot

It was about one in the morning, and Glinda the Good wasn't sure she'd ever been this tired in her life. She'd been in labor for over twelve hours, and she had hated every clock tick of it. Of course, she'd always wanted to have children, and she had always vaguely known that labor was painful, but nothing could have prepared her for twelve hours of nurses uselessly telling her to push and breathe, Rothe, the baby's father, awkwardly looking at her and holding her hand, and the most intense pain she had ever experienced. The most insane thoughts had run through her head during labor: Why didn't I just have a surgical birth? Why do woman have to go through this much pain to have children? Why can't men give birth? It's completely unfairified! But the most recurrent thought in her head was: Why in Oz did I allow myself to get into this position in the first place?

Of course, she knew why, and how. In the days following Dorothy Gale's departure, it seemed like all Oz had gone mad. Schools in Munchkinland closed for a week, the Gilikish stock market had gone up two hundred points, and the Emerald City seemed like one big party zone. It took about two weeks for Glinda to actually get a good night's sleep. But during the craziness, one particular night had been her breaking point. One obnoxious man, seemingly right outside the Palace, was singing at the top of his lungs, "Hail hail, the Witch is dead! Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Hail hail, the Wicked Witch is dead! She's gone where the goblins go, below! Below, below, yo ho! So open up and sing …" Over and over again until Glinda finally screamed in frustration into one of her pillows. It was enough that her best friend had been murdered, but to have that fact being thrown in her face … She needed a drink.

That was how she'd met Rothe, at a back alley bar in a not so nice part of the city that had little to no celebrations of certain current events. They got so drunk that they only needed one thing to bond over: a novel called A Summer in the Gilikkus that Glinda was surprised Rothe liked since the book's target audience was women. And, because she was so drunk, Glinda told Rothe just who her best friend actually was, but Rothe promised not to tell, and in the following months, she made him swear it many times. Eventually, they'd ended up at his place, and one thing led to another. Rothe had remained entirely supportive throughout Glinda's pregnancy, and even though they quickly found out that they did not work well as a couple, they agreed to stay friends and share custody of the child.

Finally, the pushing stopped, and Glinda heard a piercing cry that was music to her ears. "It's a girl!" the midwife exclaimed happily. "Congratulotions, Your Goodness, Master Rothe, you have a beautiful baby girl!"

"Alright!" Rothe said enthusiastically, taking the baby. "Hi there, little 'un. It's Papa! Come on, I think your mama's eager to meet you! Glinda, look. We made something pretty special, I think."

Glinda looked, and it was love at first sight. The baby stopped screaming as soon as she was set down near her mother, and Glinda found herself looking into a pair of blue eyes that were just like her own. She suddenly found the strength to reach out and take the baby into her arms. The baby coughed, and then started screaming again, but then, amazingly, quieted down once more. "Oh, she's beautiful …" Glinda murmured. Then, she came to a decision. She looked up at Rothe. "Fabala. Her name's Fabala."

"After your friend?" Rothe asked knowingly.

Glinda nodded solemnly. "Yes. After my friend." In Glinda's arms, Fabala yawned, and Glinda looked down again. You really can't tell what features a baby has inherited when they're first born, but Glinda knew that those bright blue eyes were hers. Even the fine, downy hair on Fabala's head was an indicator that she would be a blonde, just like her mother. Glinda would look back on this as one of the happiest moments of her life, but she knew there was something missing. Someone missing. Fabala's namesake.

Yes, Glinda couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like if Elphaba had been there. She probably would have shown Glinda no mercy during the birthing process, telling her to keep going every time Glinda got tired. She would probably hold the baby rather gingerly for fear of dropping her, but then she would be deeply flattered to be Fabala's godmother, though she would do her best not to show it …

Glinda was brought back to the real world when Fabala whimpered in her arms. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked softly. "Are you hungry? Here, I read my baby books; I know you'd want this almost immediately." The nurses and servants present discreetly cleared out of the room as Glinda unbuttoned her gown. It took Fabala a few clock ticks to figure it out, but soon, she was happily sucking away, making both Glinda and Rothe smile. "Rothe … it was so good of you to come."

"Don't mention it," Rothe said. "She's my daughter too, you know. And, though I know we don't fit, that was a good couple months we had, and I definitely don't regret our first night together. Quite a fitting name you've given her."

Soon after, Rothe left, and Glinda's mind was teeming with possibilities for what Fabala's life would be like. She would grow up without firsthand knowledge of the Wizard's tyranny and how it had destroyed so many lives. She would come of age with a new Oz, one that was fair and just to all. And Glinda swore that as soon as Fabala came home from school with lessons about the "Wicked Witch of the West," she would tear up those papers, throw them in the fire, and tell Fabala who the Witch really was, and how she should be proud to have that name. And eventually, Glinda mused, she would retire, and Fabala would rule Oz if she wanted to. Glinda imagined that Fabala would be a fantastic ruler, blowing them all away with her political finesse.

But, for now, Fabala slept contentedly in Glinda's arms without a care in the world.


On that same night, two hundred miles south of the Emerald City, in the Badlands, Elphaba was woken up by a shrill cry that pierced through the walls of the small hut. Fiyero, already awake of course, made for the bedroom door, but Elphaba quickly stopped him. "I'll get it," she whispered.

"No, Fae, you need to sleep," Fiyero protested. "He hardly ever nurses anymore; I'll just give him a bottle and he'll be fine."

"No, I have to," Elphaba insisted. "Motherly instinct and all that. Besides, you did it last night."

Fiyero sighed and relented, knowing that he had to pick his battles. "Alright."

And so, Elphaba quietly made her into what she had originally thought would be her library, though she liked its current use much better. Little Nestor was outright wailing now, his relief having been prolonged by his parents' short argument over who would attend to him. During the whole Dorothy ordeal, Elphaba took all her symptoms of pregnancy as merely due to stress. But after all that was over, it was evident that something more significant was going on. Fiyero, of course, was overjoyed from the start, having previously thought that he could never have children in his new condition. Elphaba, on the other hand, spent seven months torn between being excited to be a mother and being terrified that she would manage to be the worst mother ever. But all those fears immediately went away when she met Nestor for the first time. Somehow she, during that night, during that turbulent time, had made this perfect picture of pureness and innocence.

Elphaba lifted Nestor out of his cradle. "Sorry, sorry, I'm here now," she told him. "What's up, Nestor? Are you hungry? Is that it?" But just then, she smelled something that indicated exactly what the problem was. "Oh. I see. I bet that's not too comfortable, is it? Let's take care of that, shall we?" Elphaba never used baby talk with Nestor. Fiyero did, which baffled her to no end. It wasn't a natural way of speaking, and anyway, how would Nestor learn to speak properly if he didn't have a good example?

As she cleaned Nestor up, Elphaba couldn't help but laugh a little. This time a year ago, she had been running from the Gale Force and having all of Oz tremble at the sight of her, and now here she was, changing a baby's nappy. Her baby. Her son, who was just the reassurance she needed after what she was sure would prove to be the darkest time in her life. It seemed only fitting to name him after the most important person she had lost during that time. She had also considered Frexspar as a name, as it was common practice in Munchkinland to name a son after his maternal grandfather, but Fiyero had firmly said, "We're not naming him after your douchebag father, Elphaba."

Once Nestor had a clean nappy on, he was much happier. Elphaba gathered him back up in her arms, and found she was not quite ready to put him in his cradle again. "Come on, you want to go outside? It's a beautiful night." It seemed like Nestor made an affirmative noise, so outside they went. Elphaba breathed in the cool night air, and pulled down Nestor's blankets so he could feel it too. She looked down at him and was pleased to see that he had a big smile on his face, something he had only just recently learned to do. Elphaba was aware of how sappy this was, but she knew she would go through all her harrowing encounters with the Gale Force and even the dark time after her sister's death all over again just to see that smile. She just fell apart every time she saw it, and she always was unable to resist returning the smile.

"There, you just needed a nappy change and a little fresh air. You like being outside, don't you? I know I do." She looked out at the vast expanse of the Badlands and sighed. "You know, there was a time when I had to be outside a lot, and one day you'll understand why. But that time is gone, and you won't ever have to worry about any of that. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're safe and sound and … happy. Especially happy. That's the most important thing, I think." She looked back down at Nestor to find that he had fallen asleep, so she quietly walked back inside and carefully put him back in his cradle. Then, she went back to bed herself, curling up contentedly in Fiyero's arms.

The next morning, Elphaba read The Emerald City Times, which announced the birth of Fabala Laren Kelle, Glinda's first daughter. The article did not mention a father, but somehow Elphaba knew that her friend was just as happy as she was.

You will come of age with our young nation.

We'll bleed and fight for you.

We'll make it right for you.

If we lay a strong enough foundation,

We'll pass it on to you.

We'll give the world to you,

And you'll blow us all away,

Someday, someday …

Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading!
Cheers,

Elle Dottore