Okay here's another chapter, to make up for lying and stuff. Hope you enjoy. I normally had never dreamed of using any OC's, but she's sorta important to the plot now so, I can't really just get rid of her. sorry if you hate OC's. Enjoy ^_^
Disclaimer: (This is for last chapter too) I will never own Wicked. D: It's so heartbreaking *cries*"
Lady Glinda, a suspect has been captured. What should we do with them?" a soldier said, standing at the entrance to Glinda's study. She looked up at him from the Grimmerie, and slowly closed it, marking her place first, before standing and walking towards the guard.
"What suspect?" she questioned him, not entirely understanding what was going on.
"The uh… assassin from last night, milady." the guard said, trying not to sound as if he thought she was an idiot.
"Oh! Oh yes, of course. Well I suppose you should… question them… or something?" she said, not knowing how to proceed with something like this. Suddenly an unmistakable swishing noise announced the arrival of unwanted company.
"If you'd be so kind as to let me question the suspect, milady." the Scarecrow almost ordered. Glinda glared at him, and was about to object, when she realized it wasn't really that bad an idea. This "man", or whatever you would call him, was almost completely invulnerable to death, and this way she wouldn't have to risk any more lives. Finally, she nodded at him.
"Very well, you will interrogate this prisoner. Just don't ask anything stupid." Glinda said, turning and returning to the Grimmerie, not catching the look of surprise from Fiyero, who had honestly not expected her to agree.
The questioning room was a dull green, like that of dying lichen. In a black chair sat the woman, her hands, feet, and neck chained to the chair face. She almost blended into the chair with her jet black hair and clothing. Fiyero took a seat in a chair across from her. She refused to meet the Scarecrows eyes with her stone ones. Her face was stoic and betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
"What's your name?" he started. Might as well make the air less tense, he thought. Wrong idea.
"I have a lot of names. Black Death, Shadow Assassin, Cruel Sorceress. Those are the most common, but I'm sure there are more." she said. He was startled to realize he'd heard of all of those names before. She was quite the famous assassin, then.
"No, I mean your real name." he pressed, not wanting to let it look like she was going to be allowed to avoid questions. She frowned, ever so slightly, and looked up at him, their eyes finally making contact. Fiyero was chilled to the bone by the stare. It was as if she could see straight through him. And yet, the gaze lacked any emotion, as if her eyes were really made of stone.
"My best friend used to call me Moira. But other than that, I'm not sure." she said stonily. It's like not only were her eyes stone like, but the rest of her seemed to be chiseled in stone too. She didn't even look like she was breathing most of the time. She was a truly frightening person.
"How can you not be sure?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. There was a long silence before she answered.
"I can't remember anything from before I was nine or so, I suppose. People tell me I came from some land beyond Oz, I guess. I don't know my own past, the people who used to know me did. And they're all dead now, even my best friend." she said, showing not even the least bit of remorse at this news. Fiyero couldn't gulp down the question before it slipped out.
"Why are they all dead? What happened?" he inquired. He was afraid he already knew the answer.
"I killed them all. Struck them all down with my magic." she stated. For a moment he thought he saw something flash through her eyes. Was that sorrow? No, he must have imagined it, the next second she looked just as rocky as before.
"Why would you do that? Why are you an assassin, Moira?" he pressed. This finally got something other than the stony stare from her. But he wished it hadn't, as she was now glaring at him with the scariest murderous look he had ever seen. If looks could kill.
"I would request you refrain from calling me Moira," she began, and after he nodded she receded back to her normal stare and continued, "And it's because someone told me too." she ended. Fiyero was beginning to question his sanity at the idea of questioning her. Sure, he had experience as the former Captain of the Guard and all, but this woman was more terrifying then anyone he'd ever met. And that was saying something. But he pushed his fear aside, making room for disgust, allowing it to fuel his questions now.
"What kind of excuse is that? You'd kill people who probably love you because you were requested to? How much did they pay? You thought money could pay off the crime of murdering numerous people, and still can? You're twisted." he spat at her. Her stony mask seemed to drop all too suddenly, and she snarled at him.
"You think I don't know how twisted this is? You think I want it? I don't have a choice here! If someone tells me I'm to kill someone, I do it. I can't control it!" she spat right back. Fiyero almost fell out of his chair at the intensity of her glare, but managed to regain himself.
"Oh, is that what you tell yourself to get to sleep at night? You will always have a choice, it's called free will!" he retorted nastily. "Moira's" lips seemed to curl up as if she were a growling animal, her rage completely evident, but there was something more in her eyes. A sort of heartbreaking sorrow.
"No, no I don't have a choice! I'm cursed, okay? Cursed to accept any order to murder someone. It doesn't matter if I know them, or care about them, I have to do it! I've never had that freedom!" she practically screamed at him. He sat, stunned into silence for several minutes. The woman assassin sat there, on the verge of tears. She bit down heavily on her lip, wishing she hadn't lost her temper. He saw a trickle of blood run down her chin.
"Did you receive orders to kill Lady Glinda?" he finally asked. She looked up at him, her eyes a flurry of emotions now, but confusion dominated.
"What would make you think that? I was ordered by that Diggs guy, the Wizard of Oz or whatever, to kill that Morrible witch lady. That's all, I swear." she insisted. And Fiyero believed her.
Outside the door where two guards were supposed to be standing, they lay instead, unconscious on the cold emerald floors. Standing where one of them should have been, peering in the small one way window, a shadowed figure stood, smirking at the brilliant idea she had just discovered was possible. She turned and walked back down the long hall, planning to come back later. Her crimson shoes made no noise in the eerily lit hall.
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN. Next chapter will be Elphie centered again. My characterization seems to be getting weaker, I need to work on that D: and I am well aware I fail at original names. Yeah...
Reviews would be nice
