The sun's rays flooded the interior of the apartment, dancing upon the shadows and forming patterns of light. Of course, Elphaba had already been up much earlier, packing and planning and scrounging around for her possessions that she had left behind in a hurry the last time around. Her boots making the floorboards wince and creak, Elphaba slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and walked to the door.
Something caught her eye- long, white cat hairs and she wondered, musing to herself, where Malky was now.
She left the apartment once and for all, closing the heavy wooden door after much effort. Her boots made footprints in the snow, as she breathed in the fresh winter air, determined to get rid of the scent of her bedsheets and the overall familiar smell of her apartment. Optimistic, almost, she walked along.
She would ask for work at the inn that she had first taken as her house when she had arrived in Emerald City as a runaway teenager. She could be fairly sure that it was still there- after all, it was a bustling business owned by an honest man who was understanding enough to let Elphaba stay in the inn by doing the odd job here and there in compensation. Of course, she had left quite quickly, forcing herself to use other methods to attain money to sustain herself.
Under the name Iva, a Vinkus name which was the first that sprung to her mind, she entered the door of the inn, its furnishings updated yet keeping the rustic feel it had to it after all these years.
Elphaba has asked for the owner of the hotel and instead of the man she was expecting to see, saw an aged woman, in her sixties most likely, with startingly blue eyes and a tender smile. Dressed in a simple grey dress, she offered Elphaba a seat next to her desk.
"So what brings you here?" she asked.
"I'm Iva-" Elphaba hesitated, trying to piece together words without lying any further, "I've travelled a long way, and I think I'd like a job here, if you will."
"It's nice to meet you, Iva." she cracked a small smile. "I'm Marillin, though there's no need to rush, I'm in no hurry. I'll give you the job, yes, but it out of curiosity, why, is a woman of such your age not taking care of family as opposed to being here?"
There was a guilty pang in her gut. She should be looking after Liir, she should be raising him, giving him her love as her duty as a mother. She should be looking for Nor. Awkward as she was at being a suitable motherly figure, she knew that that was what she was typically supposed to do.
Taking in a deep breath, words formed at her lips.
"I don't believe it's my place any longer."
Marillin didn't inquire further, which was a comfort to Elphaba. She gave her the job and her chores with little fuss and allocated a room for her on the third floor.
She later learnt that Marillin was a sympathetic woman who continued to run the inn after her husband (the man of whom she had been looking for initially) had passed away a few years back. She was fair, polite and quiet for most of the time, and known throughout the community for her hard work and persistance.
The job was of fairly decent pay, and it meant not worrying where she would sleep or eat that night. Elphaba's role was mainly housekeeping, in which she cheated slightly and used various memorised spells to do the cleaning for her. Marillin suspected this a while later and confronted her about it, but she did not mind much, for it got the work done, and the room was always left meticulously clean.
She had been there for a week, and yet Oz had changed so drastically in a short period of time. Elphaba was both amused (and quite glad) of Oz's current political situation, watching as Glinda- her Glinda, became the ruler of the country. Elphaba looked with bemused yet appreciative eyes as she followed Glinda's doings in the paper. She had to admit that Glinda was no longer the childish, super fluent girl which spent her time gossiping and craving the attention of boys back at Shiz.
She couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable and concerned about the rumours of a scarecrow taking her place as the ruler of Oz.
The questions circulated her head. Was it the same scarecrow that was in that girl, Dorothy's little group? Elphaba recalled how foolish she was for considering, even for a few moments, that the scarecrow with Dorothy was Fiyero. She remembered telling Liir that he "might just get his wish". How could she be so stupid? He was dead, and there was naught, painful as it was, she could do.
She went to sleep that night with her head buzzing with questions.
The next day was uneventful. It rained for the whole duration of the day, rain pulsing down on her window with a calming beat. It was only at night, when she was reading the newspaper again, that something moderately interesting had happened.
Elphaba remembered that she was reading the text in front of her, a small glass of tea next to her, as the bell rung over the inn's door to alert of someone's presence. Elphaba quickly snapped her head to the source of the jingle, cursing. She had forgotten to lock the proceedings, and it was an hour past closing time.
A figure walked in, and Elphaba hastily sprung to her feet to turn the man away, before noticing something unusual about the man.
It was the same scarecrow that had been with the child, Dorothy.
Their eyes met for a second, her brown eyes meeting his. Her sleeved hand brushed aside the paper she was reading, her boots making an unusual sound as she walked to the door.
"Sir, I'm sorry, we're closed for the night." she said, slightly pitying him as she looked at him warily.
He was an odd (man?) of sorts, scarecrow or not. His clothes were patchworked and worn, bleached and faded by the blistering rays of the sun. His painted face was strange- Elphaba couldn't quite pinpoint what set him apart. He had a cursed, sunken look about him, as if he had not slept in days had he been a man. His haunted appearance made her curious: his expression was so different from when she had encountered him a week ago, and yet she was sure this was the same scarecrow.
"Please. A room for the night- that's all I require." he replied. His voice was eccentric- it was scratchy, but reminiscent of a rich, gentle tone, as if he had come down with a permanent sore throat. Elphaba sighed.
"Oh, alright, i'll go find a spare room."
She motioned for him to wait for her, closing and locking the door behind him to prevent further mishaps from occurring. Elphaba lead him to a vacant room on the third floor, ironically not far from her's. He thanked her brusquely, and she big him a good night as she crept downstairs and finished her light reading.
Her soft, (green-less!) hand running down a crease in the paper, Elphaba's eyes bore into an article on the prediction of the future of Animal rights; but despite this being the topic she fought diligently for, through the years of her life, her mind was elsewhere. It was up in the clouds, reminiscing of Liir and Sarima and Chistery and Nessarose and Glinda. Of Fiyero.
