Based off of Wicked the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory McGuire Galinda/Glinda Upland, Elphaba Thropp and all else does not belong to me and sadly never will. No Copy write infringement is intended, just enjoyment for the sake of writing.
Book-Verse with a hint of Musical-verse. May become Mature so that rating stands.
Summary: Short book verse, Glinda's thoughts on the carriage ride back to Shiz after Elphaba leaves her, kisses her, and tells her to 'hold out'. Rated 'M' for graphic flash backs.
Author's notes: Long time writer, first time in Wicked-verse. Long time fan of both book and show 'verse so this may turn into a combo of a both. Would love and appreciate some feed back. The plan here is to get my feet wet in the 'verse and see which styles I am more comfortable writing in. First person, third, etc. I may decide to turn this into a longer, more complicated fic or start something else. So please, constructive critique is welcomed as well. This contains feelings of more than friendship between two women so if that bothers you, please look elsewhere, there is plenty of Fiyero/Glinda or Elphaba/ Fiyero fic out there. If it doesn't, well, please enjoy.
Part One:
Unadulterated Loathing
A kiss. One, deep and passionate kiss. I stared long, and hard at the path she took,as hard as her lips hard been against enough that I felt the jolt of the carriage, but had not heard the driver ask if the misses was returning. Misses. Like he need to pretend to be polite, to my Elphie, when no one else was. My Elphie. When had she become that? When she held me during those terrifying nights we spent on the road to the Emerald City? When finally gave in to passion on the third night? In a way I'd never felt before, or apparently, would never feel again? No wonder it had been passionate,from a woman who said she had never known passion, or love, in her entire life. Not the love of a father, or a sister. Not even the fondness of a Ama or Nanny. if this was her plan all along,then no wonder there was passion. Passion from that mean, green thing. I had lucked out that there were no others in the carriage. I could muffle any sobs that attempted to rattle my body, and the heavy rain that I could hear along the wooden roof, I couldn't help but think of her.I couldn't help but wonder Was she being burned by this harsh,blinding rain, was she safe. It was nearly enough to get me to jump out of the carriage and run after her in the muck of the road.
But I didn't. Why hadn't I? Why hadn't I done that, or yanked her lanky, lithe body back inside with that kiss, nails digging into her flesh, through the leather traveling clothes. I could leave with her, I could have. I would have been terrified, but I would have known that Elphaba Thropp was safe and would have protected me at all cost. Animals and animals alike be damned. But would that put her into more danger than she's already put her bloody self into? Me, running off for longer than I already have? Going back to clean the damn mess she's left me with back at Shiz, to deal with Morrible and Nessarose? I should hate her, I really should. Just as she believes everyone else does. But I'm not sure if that's true. Nessa, in her own, twisted, devoted way, I think does love her. Maybe not love, but need. She doesn't know that people need her, good and bad, that I need her. Damn her. Damn her stupidity. Damn her passion. Everything she does is passionate, even if she says she doesn't know the meaning of the word.
Everything Elphaba Thropp does has been out of passion and love. She doesn't know it if it hit her over the head with a brick. Like she hit me from the moment I met her and loathed her, I loathed her apparent confidence, her ability to be brave, although I later learned that it was her ability of lack of confidence and stupidity. I loathed her soft skin, her dark eyes. And I loathed that no one had any expectations of her, her freedom even if she didn't see it that way. If there is loving someone too much to the extent of smothering them, then I am guilty. My parents, my friends who want to be in my good graces. Foolish boys that want to court me because I am pretty, and blonde, and easy apparently. I love my parents but they want everything for me, and can make sure I have everything and live a life without want. But that's not true anymore. I want one thing that they could never give me.
And I loathe Elphaba Thropp for that. I loathe the fact that she showed me there was another world, and another way to love without condition and she didn't even realize it. I loathe that she knows I can't follow her, not this time, not with so much at stake. And I loathe that she gave me a taste of something I have no idea if I'll ever have again. Her body, her soul, she might not have said I love you, but every time she said I loathe you, I knew what it meant. I loathe now that I have to pretend, that, like her, I can not cry, or scream, or curse her name. Not until this is over and I'm not sure when it will be. Even then, they say no one mourns the wicked. I loathe that they don't know and can't know that I always will. If it's possible to loathe and love at the same time, then I am guilty of that too.