Two years today, Glinda thought to herself, feeling depressified. Two years ago today, Elphie fled the Wizard, DEFIED the Wizard... And I haven't seen her since.
Happiness seemed so odd to the once-clueless blonde, who had retained her beauty but not her mistaken impression that it meant anything to be beautiful. After all, look where it had gotten her. Adored by all of Oz because she sparkled. In a relationship that seemed destined to go nowhere because he'd wanted nothing more than a pretty face when they'd met... and now, she suspected, wanted more, but didn't have the heart to leave her.
She didn't often let herself dwell on her relationship with Fiyero. He was even more "distant and moodified" than he'd been in that time before she'd bemoaned his new attitude to Elphaba, on the platform before they went to the Emerald City. She'd give anything now for the Fiyero he'd been then; that Fiyero was practically giddy compared to this dark and serious Fiyero. The worst part was that she didn't care - she loved him, anyway. And as long as he was near her, she'd cling to him. She had her ways - she'd been trying to manipulate marriage out of him for awhile, now.
It was very difficult to do without actually bringing it up, but she felt she was getting closer.
She loved him so blindly, so endlessly. She somehow suspected that her emotional capacity ended light years before that of someone such as Elphaba, but Glinda loved Fiyero with all that she had. And though she didn't think he was as dedicated to her as a husband should be to a wife, she wanted to be married to him.
She wanted everyone to know he had chosen her, and bonded himself to her. She wanted to be on his arm forever; how perfect they looked, how perfect they were together, on the outside.
The image of it appealed as greatly to Glinda as the love in it did. She supposed that was shallow...
When faced with her own inadequacies, Glinda couldn't help but turn her thoughts to her friend, the Wicked Witch, who was so different from she. She lacked the obvious beauty of Glinda, but had a million times the heart and integrity. But all of Oz hated her for her morals, and adored Glinda, despite her lack of them.
Glinda felt restless in the dark, cold night. It was particularly chilly for this time of year - perhaps the weather sensed the gloominess of this day, and changed itself accordingly. The people of Oz had hidden out in their houses, thinking that on this, the second anniversary of the Witch's affront to goodliness, she might strike in some vicious way. As if Elphaba even kept track of the date, Glinda thought. She probably has no idea... She's probably carrying a family of Raccoons on her back through a flooded river right now, cursing the cold and the heavens and probably the Kumbric witch for pissing the river into existence.
She wandered through the palace, into her bedroom, knowing she wouldn't find Fiyero there, waiting for her. He was never waiting for her. She could lead him places, he would follow her. But he never sought her out, never initiated their time together. Still, her heart panged every time she entered the room to find it empty, because in the back of her mind she knew that, were he not such a good man, Fiyero would have made it permanently empty long ago. She wasn't sure how long ago, and she didn't want to know.
She found him on a balcony, looking up at the night sky. A glass of brandy was next to him, on the thick, ornate concrete balustrade. "Fiyero?"
His head turned perhaps a centimetre in her direction. He barely reacted to her - it was as if his head had twitched, rather than him acknowledging her presence. He said nothing, he simply continued to look up at the sky.
Glinda shivered in the night air, and wondered how he could have his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up. "It's cold, Fiyero. Aren't you freezing?"
"I don't feel it," he shrugged.
Glinda looked at the glass of liquor and had an idea where the warmth came from. She wondered how many of those he had already consumed that day. "How long have you been out here?"
Fiyero shrugged. "I couldn't tell you." He seemed lost in thought, then, as if realizing his duty, looked at her. "Are you alright?"
If only he'd meant it. If only he'd looked into her eyes and seen the pain there, seen her love for him, and the yearning, and genuinely wanted to know. "Today is hard," she admitted. "It's been two years since..." He nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Maybe he was more in tune with her than she thought... "I miss her, Fiyero." His face was unreadable. "I don't know what to do without my friend."
"It's hard, to be without someone who means so much to you," he agreed.
"Is that how it felt to leave your mother and father, to leave the Vinkus?"
He nodded. "It's hard to say goodbye."
"At least we have each other," Glinda tried. "And we can remember Elphie together, as she was. Because we know the truth about her." He didn't move. "And, someday, when I can, I'll clear her name. The Wizard and Morrible are like Father Time and..." she paused, thinking. "Mother Time." Oz, how stupid she felt. "They'll die sooner or later," she continued on. "And I'll have Oz's trust, and they won't be spreading lies about her, and she can come back."
"You think that will work?" He looked dubious. "You think you can bring the Enemy of Oz back and just promise everyone she's nice and they'll listen?"
"I can be very convincifying," she reminded him. "We'll get her back, Fiyero. We will."
"She doesn't belong to us," Fiyero said, staring at the moon. "She belongs to another."
Glinda stared at him. Did he know something she didn't? Had he heard of some lover? "Who? Who does Elphie belong to?"
He sighed, almost inaudibly. "She belongs to the twilight and mist."
