With swift steps Glinda made her way through the halls of Colwen Grounds, her eyes sweeping every area she passed through.

She did not stop, even when her feet protested the strain of her heeled shoes, until she caught sight of a familiar shining head.

"Mister Genfee!" She called in a rare show of detectable impatience as she rushed forward towards the Munchkin.

His brows shot up as he registered her presence, he hesitated, tugging at the end of his beard as he visibly mulled over his forthcoming greeting, "Ah, L – Your Eminence."

"I am glad I was finally able to find you," she said, ignoring the greetings she was accustomed to, her breath was still a little short as was her temper, her chest rising and falling faster than normal as she tried to calm herself.

"You were looking for me?" He pulled at the sleeves of his dark suit, his eyes wider than normal, which was saying a lot when it came to Munchkins.

Glinda did not respond, for she knew her answer would be honest and that would cause the Munchkin to deflate from the obvious look of pride now shining in his eyes. Instead she moved the conversation – if it could even be deemed that at its current point – along quickly.

"Have you seen anyone…"

Glinda pondered over her words, debating over whether to bring up that Elphaba was there, and she knew. Did anyone else even know? What would his reaction be? He served the family, for many years if Glinda's memory served her correctly, so would his views be the same as those that he worked for? If only Glinda had paid more attention to the Munchkin's view of Elphaba, but after she had left it had been too much for Glinda to even think of her, let alone mention her.

So instead, she used the vaguest terms she could think of on the spot:

"Anything that would require my attention?"

"Ah!" He clapped his hands together, his forehead furrowed in a clear display of anxiety, "Yes. There is actually, but I'm unsure how you will take it… that is why I did not bring it up immediately."

She chose her next words just as carefully, just enough pressure to coax him into answering without him feeling as if she were demanding an answer, or forcing it from his lips, "I'm sure there is nothing that could… dampen my spirits any more than they have been already."

"Of course…" His brow dropped this time, his own sorrow or perhaps simply his sympathy for her palatable, "The oldest has returned."

Glinda tried to show her surprise at this news, without going overboard with her reaction.

"E – Miss Elphaba has returned?"

He jerked his head in affirmation, the tension in his face eased at her rather level tone. Though she still feared that too much of her excitement at the prospect of seeing Elphaba again, after far too long, had seeped into her voice.

"I took her to speak to her father a short while ago. I doubt it would have lasted for any longer than now."

He wrung his hands and shifted his feet, but Glinda did not pay that much attention, too focused on his words as she was.

"Do you mean you think their meeting is over?"

He nodded quickly, gesturing down the corridor towards the Sunroom.

Glinda bid him her thanks, and continued on her way much as she had before, only this time her destination was fixed in her mind. If Genfee was bewildered by her reaction, or her apparent dismissal of him, he did not show it instead wishing her luck as she hurried away.

She reached the room just in time to see a figure clad in dark colours – not that unusual considering a funeral had just taken place – disappear around the corner before her. With ever hasty steps she strode forward, closing the distance between them until she could seize the figure by their arm with both her hands and drag them into the nearest room.

Heart beating heavily in her chest, Glinda found herself staring at the closed door her hands rested against.

Her goal finally realised, her feelings were free to spring from the faraway place that she had buried them. The swirl of emotions spun out of control beneath her chest, surrounding her heart, seemingly interrupting its constant beat in brief spates.

Acting on impulse was something she should have learnt not to do a long time ago.

Another lesson she had failed.

"Galinda."

Her fingers reflexively twitched against the door as she fought the urge to press her nails into the grain of the wood. Closing her eyes, she took a breath before using her hand's purchase to push herself into motion.

Elphaba, much as Glinda herself, had notably aged. The stern frown lines deeper than they once were, her features somehow more severe. But it was her eyes that struck Glinda most. There was something different about her eyes, something harder in their dark depths.

It was, in a way, frightening.

"It's Glinda now." Her answer was automatic, something she had repeated often but over time the need to do so lessened, and lessened, until the words were no longer needed.

"And why, exactly, is that?"

"I decided it was for the best to change my name to something that would be more respectable, all things considered."

Elphaba did not rise to the bait dangled before her, much to Glinda's surprise. Instead she peered at her with dark eyes, her expression bizarrely neutral and yet callous.

"Why exactly did you accost me and shut me in a room?"

Glinda did not know the answer to that question herself. It had seemed the best cause of action at the time, she could remember clearly how Elphaba would run if cornered. But this was not cornering, this was trapping and as such she could not run.

"You came to Nessarose's funeral?"

"In a way."

"How did you know?"

"I have my ways."

"Are all your answers going to be short and cryptic?"

Elphaba did not dignify her with a reply, instead turning her back to her and striding to the window to gaze out at the just set sun. The sky a mixture of deep purples and blues.

There were many things that they needed to speak of, foremost amongst them the loss of her sister and the rumours that had been building over the years that the other woman had been gone. Glinda's throat felt tight as she stood there, struggling with her whirling thoughts, and the fact that one in particular kept forcing itself to the forefront of her mind. A repetitive pounding against the front of her head, inciting a pain behind her eyes and cutting of her breath for a few long moments at a time.

"Why…" Her voice cracked, perhaps a sign that part of her subconscious recognised that she should really be bringing up some of those far more important matters, not this. Yet, even now she was still so self-absorbed, "Why did you leave?"

There was no reaction on Elphaba's part, not even a minute flicker of guilt or sorrow crossing the face of her reflection. There was nothing.

Nothing.

"You promised me." Glinda's voice had strengthened, had risen in mimic of her temper that sparked like a fuse. The fierce heat of anger building within her chest, stoked in strength by the pounding in her skull, "You promised."

There was no obvious sign that Elphaba had even heard her, not even a slight wavering in her posture.

Glinda clenched her hands tightly at her sides, her nails biting into her skin.

She took a step forward, the soles of her feet protesting any additional movement. It was that sudden movement that finally gained her a reaction.

"No." Elphaba said over her shoulder, before turning to face her, "You promised, you replied to my question in that way. I never said anything in a way of a promise back."

"You implied." Glinda bit of the words, because Elphaba had done that. Hadn't she?

"No I did not, if you thought I did then you are just as thoughtless as I always assumed." There was a slight edge to Elphaba's words, something that would have been unnoticeable in another's speech, but in Elphaba's it was as good as a snarl.

The anger inside Glinda spiked, her eyes stinging as she fought the urge to turn and flee the room. When had she ever ran from a confrontation? That was not like her, not at all.

"So you expect me to promise to 'hold out' for you, which I have! While you can go around doing whatever, or whoever," she spat, "you want?"

She approached the taller woman as if to lash out, in action rather than words, ignoring the ache in her feet and head, "And how dare you call me brainless, I've always had a brain in my head. You showed me not to hide it."

There had been a rumour of some prince from the Vinkus being involved with the terrorists that now plagued the City – though Glinda had seen nothing to suggest that such a group even existed – that he had an… intimate relationship with the worst of them. The most well-known. His death had followed swiftly.

Her bitterness forced the words out before her brain could stop her, "I knew you would prefer to be with…with someone like that. Doing things like this."

"What are you rabbling on about?" Elphaba all but growled out, her irritation apparent this time. If Glinda had been in a calmer state of mind she would have been struck by the rarity of such a reaction, for Elphaba always seemed to remain passive even when her emotions where spinning inside. It was her eyes that gave her away, not her actions.

Before Glinda could answer, Elphaba continued, her face twisting in her anger.

"And where exactly is your rabble of children?"

Glinda choked on her breath, causing it to hitch painfully, as the pain in her head reached a peak, she could not stop her words if she was even able to try, "I can't have any!"

The words hurt, bringing with them painful memories of appointments and doctors. How she had mourned her 'loss'. For she had been raised all her life to believe her most important roles in life were to marry well and produce heirs to carry on her name and legacy, to continue to improve their family's standing.

She couldn't even do that right.

Elphaba's expression fell, looking as stunned as she was capable of.

Glinda's chest heaved as she tried to calm her breathing and rid her vision of the red that had consumed it a mere moment ago. The smart thing to do would be to turn her back on Elphaba, finally put to rest her feelings and move on with her life.

But she couldn't.

She had never been able to.

She opened her mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Why should she be the one to apologise? Elphaba was the one being as difficult as always, or perhaps her experiences while she was gone had changed her.

Glinda knew of the rumours, of course she did. But to acknowledge the woman she knew was partaking in the actions attributed to her was something she had not been able to comprehend, nor come to terms with. She had seen none of these actions, but rumours had deep roots.

Elphaba growled in the back of her throat, her features growing stern once again.

"I don't know why I bothered coming back."

Glinda held her tongue, stopping herself from adding that she did not see why Elphaba had bothered either.

"I should have known you would confront me with your stupidity once more."

Glinda took a deep breath, motioning with one hand that she was calming herself, and that Elphaba should be too.

"You're angry, and sad, I understand that Elphie for I am feeling much the same right now. But that does not give you the right to behave in such a way." Glinda sighed, her eyes fluttering shut for a split second, "And neither should I."

"I can behave in whatever way I wish," the taller woman snapped, her shoulder's trembling in such an unusual display of rage that Glinda stepped back with a barely contained gasp. Now she was more placid she could see the changes in Elphaba, the most noticeable her apparent inability to control her emotions as she once had.

Well then, Glinda would have to be composed for the both of them.

"Using anger to cope with sorrow is –

"Sorrow? You think I am mourning?" The following laugh was short and bitter, nothing like the one that once graced the woman's lips, "Why should I mourn her or any of you? The same would not be the case if our places were switched."

"You do not mean that Elphie," Glinda's words were soft, placating, "She did care for you, as do we. The worry we experienced when you left has not lessened over time. What I feel hasn't –

"You expect me to believe that?" Elphaba's eyes narrowed as she spoke, "I left once and was found, but this time…"

Had Elphaba expected to be found? But that did not make any sense. Surely. Glinda was starting to get the feeling she was simply saying these things to be intentionally confusing and difficult. The Elphaba she had known a long time ago had been like that on occasion.

"We looked. How could we not?" Considering whether to tell her the truth or lie, Glinda instead settled on a half-truth, "We found no hint of you."

There was no response from the taller woman, instead she moved back, increasing the distance between them – an action that felt like a twisted dagger in Glinda's chest.

Glinda swallowed thickly, which brought to her attention the tension in her muscles. While she had tried to stop her mind from responding to it, though she still allowed herself to notice it, her body was all too aware that there was something terribly wrong with Elphaba.

Mere moments ago she had put it down to sorrow and anger, the processes of mourning. But her eyes… Elphaba's eyes told so much more than her words or actions ever could.

"What else happened?"

Glinda blinked, snapping from her thoughts into a bout of confusion before it occurred to her what Elphaba was referring to.

"After you left?"

"Of course." Elphaba's words were hard, as if she were biting back from some retort about Glinda's intelligence.

"The title was forfeited to Nessie when you left."

Elphaba turned her back to her once more, approaching the window to lay her hands against the windowsill, "You think I'm clueless to that?"

"You asked!" Glinda snapped back, her irritation returning.

Closing her eyes, she released a drawn out breath in an effort to calm herself once more. This was getting ridiculous. When Elphaba remained silent, Glinda continued.

"It has passed to me now –

Elphaba whirled, her dark eyes blazing with an anger so sudden, so unexpected, that Glinda felt herself propelled backwards. Her own barely suppressed feelings of indignation vanishing in her shock.

"The title is passed on my say. I am here now and so I claim it back."

Glinda frowned, her bafflement would have been clear to Elphaba if she had been paying any attention to anything beyond her words.

"It doesn't work like that –

"And I am supposed to care about how things are 'supposed to work'?" Elphaba punctuated the end of her sentence with a sharp cackle. One that sent a chill down Glinda's spine.

"No one would pay your claim any attention." Glinda lifted her hand in a peaceful gesture, at Elphaba's dark gaze, Glinda's hand dropped back to her side, "I struggled to retain the title. They would rather the position be abolished than passed to a Gillikinese. At least that is the impression I came away from our meeting with." Glinda paused to take another deep breath, her difficulty taking in air a common trouble throughout this confrontation, "Though they tried to get rid of it even when Nessarose was alive."

Elphaba's lips pulled down and back sharply, baring her teeth, "It will be abolished only when I say so."

"It won't be. I stopped it."

"And now it is yours." The brunette jabbed a thin finger in her direction, "All you have ever been interested in is that title. Excuse me if I am wrong, but that is the very reason you were sent here, was it not?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Okay, perhaps there was some truth to Elphaba's words, but things had changed. She had changed.

"Well remind me dear Glinda, what were your first words after my grandfather died?"

What kind of question was that? Glinda's face scrunched up at the puzzling question, where had it even come from?

"How am I supposed to remember that? Many years have passed Elphaba."

"Well, I remember. Clear as day." Elphaba sneered, "The very first words to spill from your lips were to state that the title of Eminent was mine."

Glinda's jaw tightened, her back teeth pressing together painfully, "I… I did not know what else to say. You must see, Elphaba, that I have never been in such a situation before. I had neither met nor laid eyes on your grandfather, how was I supposed to know how to comfort you. If you would have even wanted that."

Elphaba lurched forward, pushing past Glinda.

"E-Elphie, what are you doing?"

The impact, or perhaps simply the action, caused an 'oomph' to expel from Glinda's lips as she stumbled.

"I have grown weary of you, and all these pointless words."

Glinda spun around just in time to see Elphaba yank the door open.

Her parting words echoed in the room were Glinda found herself frozen to the spot.

"What I said will remain true. The title is mine."

The door slammed.

Some things never changed, Glinda concluded once she had settled down, Elphaba still 'ran' when she felt she was losing an argument.

Glinda sighed, pressing her thumb into the furrow between her eyebrows. Her form had remained hunched over the dresser in her old room for a long stretch of time, she much so she had lost track of it.

It was less the words exchanged than the changes in Elphaba herself. The general air of animosity surrounding the woman.

And it was selfish. Completely self-absorbed, that Glinda was far more wounded by that than anything else. She felt far more pain over Elphaba's response to her, was far more distressed over that than the loss of Nessarose. She had grown closer to the middle sibling over the years, had spent far more time with her than she ever had with her sister. Yes they had drifted apart, but they still cared for one another.

And yet she felt more loss over Elphaba. Even as she still walked Oz, unlike her sister who would never return.

It was ridiculous. Frightening even.

Glinda closed her eyes, pressed her thumb harder against her skin, surely with enough force to leave an unsightly mark.

Was she really that terrible a person?

That was the only answer, wasn't it?

She was fully aware of just how brief their time together had been. How in the grand scheme of things it was all but a grain of sand in the hourglass of life, and yet she was still drawn. Completely and inarguably.

It was ridiculous, childish, and completely immature. But there was no fighting it. It was something she would never be able to combat or ignore. She would be drawn to her, no matter what she did, no matter where she was, or what she told herself.

She did not know how to feel about it.

Lost perhaps?

Powerless?

There was no describing it, and perhaps that was what scared her the most.