A/N: Thanks for the reads. I plan on updating ALOT more- so please, review what I have so I know that its worth it. Oh, and Wicked isn't, nor ever will be, mine. D:
It was a long flight back to Kiamo Ko, but Elphaba saw no alternative. She needed someone more reliable, and at-hand, than the fickle Glinda. Passing over barns and green fields, the Witch brooded over this. She was much more like Galinda than the strong character that she had become, after the death of Doctor Dillamond. But Glinda would help. Elphaba would see to that. Holding those shoes over Elphaba's head- like a carrot held out to starving Donkey- why, who knew if they were even still with the girl, that Dorothy? In any case, it was back to Kiamo Ko with her, back to fetch Liir, and hopefully to leave Nanny in the capable hands of the maunts of the Cloister of Saint Glinda, as she was far too old for travel. But what to do with Chistery? Elphaba supposed the maunts might take him in too, as long as he did not reveal his powers of speech.
She had not wanted to miss her sister's memorial, and knew that her father, dear Frex, would be heartbroken. But honestly, she'd be naught but a distracting sideshow to the funeral-goers, stealing attention away from Nessarose, when this once, her Godliness deserved it. And, come to think of it, when had she done anything the conventional way? She could mourn- or not mourn- her sister in solitude, yes, that was Elphaba's way. And she was of much more use setting herself on this mission than moping about with Oz's finest.
After a week of nonstop travel, the Witch was home at last. Upon entering, she heard a clatter from down the hall, and Liir came bounding in.
"Auntie, it's been so dull without you," the boy said, carrying a plucked, headless chicken in one hand, his face covered in flour.
"What on earth are you doing?" Elphaba demanded. "Wreaking havoc while I'm away, eh?"
"Nanny said you would be coming. She told me to kill a chicken," Liir explained.
"What do you mean, she said I would be coming?" Elphaba asked. "I didn't write," Liir shrugged.
"That's all she said. She's in the Solar. I think she wanted to talk to you, but she's been rambling so-"
"Enough," snapped the Witch. "I shall see to this."
Nanny was resting in a worn armchair, in the Solar, as Liir had said. She seemed even older than before, and was gazing into the empty air before her. Elphaba approached her, carefully, so as not to startle her.
"Nanny? Nanny, it's me, Elphaba," she said, gently.
"Elphaba? My, but you've been gone so long."
"Only a month or so," the Witch said, despite herself. "But, Nanny, how did you know I was coming? I didn't write to you, or send a messenger..."
"Nanny knows when her old charges are on their way to see her." The old woman smiled. Elphaba patted her hand.
After making sure Nanny was well-attended to, Elphaba locked herself in her tower. She poured herself over what paper she had left, scribbling lists of materials and people and drawing crude maps. I can only make an outline of a plan, she realized. So much could go wrong.
Elphaba made a copy of each document she found vital, then tied the bundle together, along with the letter she wrote to her old friend. It was lightweight enough to be sent by one of her crows, so she bound it to a particularly clever crow's feet and sent it on its way.
Elphaba watched the crow's flight until it was naught but another speck of night. There was so much to be done, too little time to do it in.
At last, she turned away from the window. "Liir," she called. "I need you at once. And bring the sewing basket!"
