Disclaimer: 'If I only owned Wicked'- tune of 'If I only had a brain/heart'...yea right!
A/N- Not a cheating chapter at all...I guarantee it!
A/N2- Icees for my reviewers!
Cold refreshing flavored shaved ice for:
greengirl16
Crazy Homeschooler
TillITryIllNeverKnow
MissWickedWitch
Upon landing along the western outskirts of the City, gloves were pulled on and a scarf across her face. The 'unfinished business' had both nothing and everything to do with the Wizard. She dissolved into the throngs of people, not one suspicious of her secretive attire. Then again a biting wind blew from the north east. At a door with cracked paint and rusted hardware she gave a single knock, half expecting the moldy wood to crumble at the touch.
"State your business." A gray shrouded figure opened the door a crack.
The answer was committed to her memory, "Oppose the Wizard."
"You may enter." The entrance was widened so she could slip inside.
A second figure motioned for her to sit on a simple wooden chair while the first lit the four lanterns situated about the room.
"Remove your scarf, we prefer to know who we are hiring than thinking they are a spy for the Wizard," said the second.
"I guarantee you I am no spy."
"Then take off the scarf."
Reluctantly she complied, revealing her emerald coloring to them. "Well," the green said, "what did you expect?"
"Certainly not the woman from two years ago who stole the Grimmerie from the Wizard." Elphaba had decided to simply label them 'O'(the first) and 'Z' (the second) accordingly. This last comment had been made by Z.
"What name shall we call you? Not your real one mind you." Asked O.
"Fae." The name Fiyero had called her seemed appropriate.
"Alright then Fae, welcome to the Resistance," Z said somewhat warmly.
A year was spent in training before she was set up in an abandoned corn exchange. The area was less than respectable. It was perfectly acceptable to hide the member of the Resistance with green skin and magic there. Birthdays passed once more without notice, the only use found in marking her years. Various trips to the refugee camp had been made to retrieve the items she had left behind, particularly the glass ball from Turtle Heart.
To make it a bit more comfortable, if not home-y: Elphaba set up a bedroll, brought in an interestingly carved table, mounted an elephant's skull another member had found, and placed other little knick knacks around the room. Whenever she went out on an errand or mission of some sort, she made sure to lock up good and tight. For the Resistance stressed that no one was to be trusted, sometimes not even other members. They were simply cogs and wheels, working together to bring down the Wizard. They were no longer individuals, but a mass known simply as the Resistance. The leader was even more secretive, and there were times when the green wondered if it—she didn't even know if it was male or female—was in fact the Wizard himself. But that theory was determined to be the thinking of a paranoid mind.
About a year and a half since she had finished training and been set up in the corn exchange, a small chapel had caught her eye after passing there several times to take messages to HQ (Head Quarters). Inside she found many icons covered by posters of 'Our Glorious Wizard'. The only one left untouched was a dilapidated image of Saint Glinda, perhaps preserved due to its relationship with Glinda the Good. Either way, she found herself spending a considerable amount of time there and the Resistance used this to their advantage. It soon became her default location to receive information.
Rain was still her most hated weather, followed closely behind by snow, sleet, and hail. Lightning storms were about the only thing she found enjoyable in the least bit. To watch the arcs of blinding bluish white light lit up parts of the City of Emeralds for less than a second before plunging them into darkness once more was an interesting phenomenon. The last time she had been to the City nearly four and a half years ago with the blonde, there had been no storms because it was summer. The Central region of the City still made her gag at times with the thought of who lived at the very center, but the feeling eventually faded with the resolution that she was among the group that would kill the Wizard.
Outside her door one night after returning from an evening meeting at HQ sat an extremely drenched white cat with greenish gold eyes befitting of Lurlinemas candles. It couldn't hurt to let the creature inside, so she allowed it to follow her in and up the steps to the loft. There was a small stove that was more for heating than cooking, but it did both jobs less than admirably. The green rubbed the cat dry in front of the stove and put some milk in a bowl.
As it lapped quietly she wondered aloud, "What shall I call you? There was a Cat I rescued once who looked a lot like you…what was its name again? Malkeyriian if I'm remembering correctly. I suppose I could call you Malky."
The cat meowed with satisfaction after draining the bowl of its last dregs of milk. It seemed pleased with the name Malky, so it stuck. The two found a companionship with each other. The relationship of cat and woman developed filled the unspoken void that had been developed by years without a sincere friendship. Elphaba lay between the sheets and blankets of the bedroll, Malky curled up by her feet reassuringly. His purrs—or were they hers, for the green didn't know the gender of this small animal she had taken in—soothed her. She knew Fiyero lived in the Wizard's Palace with Glinda because of his engagement to Glinda the Good. That was the extent of her knowledge though, and she felt there was always something missing when reports from those working from inside the palace were passed along.
The day came when she was given the task of entering the Wizard's Throne Room. It seemed different from when she had last been there, unrecognizable after five short years. Sounds of marching made her whirl to face the door she had entered through. With the broom held before her threateningly she moved backwards. A group of five Gale Forcers rushed into the room, four shoved her to the ground and held her arms painfully behind her. The dream she had had years ago rushed back to her, all except the very last part before she had awoken. They bound her arms tightly with rope, enough to cut into her wrists and forearms. One yanked her head back by her hair sharply as Morrible and Glinda entered the room. The blonde retrieved the broom and Grimmerie from the green. She appeared entranced by some sort of spell; hypnotized in fact. A sixth Gale Force member entered the room and the emerald woman squeezed her eyes shut. Metallic coldness against her temple, the sound of a gun cocking, she opened them slightly. She at least wanted to know who her future murderer was.
Those eyes! No! It couldn't be—Fiyero. Thin black lips mouthed, "Don't Fiyero…please. I beg of you. You're not like them. Please Yero, you know me. I still love you." Sadly, no sound accompanied the pleas as thick tears flooded down her green cheeks, burning her painfully.
A/N- So, what do my diminishing number of reviewers think of this chapter? Review please!