Chapter 29


A finger traced her lips.

She blinked sleepily and tried to move but gave up when she felt a familiar body warm and heavy on top of hers, lips tracing the shell of her ear.

Her mind went back to earlier hours. It was dark still, much time couldn't have passed yet. But it was as if the world had tilted on its axes. She let the events of the night flash before her eyes, didn't linger on Glinda's innocent face, wide-eyed and confused, focused instead on Fiyero's hand grabbing hers, on the look in his eyes as he looked at her before jumping on her broom with her. A look of freedom had been in his eyes, as if he'd been waiting for this. As if he was relieved that this had happened. She hadn't understood it last night, she'd been too caught up in all they'd done wrong, all the hurt they'd caused, the problems that would come out of it. But as she lay here now, she thought that maybe she did.

He'd be so reluctant to hurt either of them, the women that loved him. He had made his choice long ago, he'd chosen her from the moment he'd asked her to meet him again. He'd chosen her every week after that. But he loved Glinda and after everything they'd been through, he hadn't wanted to abandon her. The thought didn't upset her. She'd resent him more, had he up and left Glinda without a second thought. His hesitance to hurt her meant only that he did genuinely love her, even if he didn't want to marry her. Glinda deserved more than this, better than this, but at least it hadn't been all lies. She was loved still, even if she was alone now. Elphaba wasn't sure of her place in Glinda's life anymore, but she was sure of Glinda's place in hers. She'd chose Fiyero over everything, everyone. She knew that now, but Glinda would always matter to her. And she needed to know, strange as it may be, that Fiyero had loved her. That he hadn't lied to either of them.

Glinda...

Oz, she didn't want Glinda to be alone. Not Glinda...

Glinda, who wasn't used to being alone. Glinda, who needed someone to rely on. Who needed someone now, more than ever, but who had been left behind by her fiance and her best friend..

She leaned into the hand cupping her cheek, smiled even though her thoughts were far from pleasant.

She'd have to accept what she did and who she was. She'd let herself down by pretending. And as much as she hated the feeling of disappointing those she loved, as much as she despised herself for letting down her only true friend, the one thing she'd never been able to live with was disappointing herself. It's what had driven her to defy gravity in the first place. She could have stayed, she could have tried another, probably more effective, way, but she wouldn't have been able to look herself in the eye. No, she needed to at least live with her own choices.

Even this one.

And even if she had underestimated her own morals, even if she had done what she'd never wanted to do...The fingertips that worked their way over her body, the nose that was currently buried in her hair, the hair that tickled her neck and chin, made it all clear as day that it was worth it.

She turned her head slightly to look at him as he pulled back. He looked strange, smiling down at her like that, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. The same he'd had earlier. A look of relief. Of love. Of peace.

He was happy.

"You're altogether too pleased with the outcome of these events."

He shrugged a little, smiled but took a minute to meet her eyes.

"How can I not be?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"I mean...I know why I shouldn't be, but...at least everyone knows now..."

She tilted her head, wanting to ask but not daring to. He didn't seem to need her words, though.

"That I love you. I just...I want people to know that."

His voice was soft and he didn't look at her. He seemed ashamed of his words, seemed to know he shouldn't be speaking them, that these words were testimony to what he'd done wrong. She was relieved to see it. She knew so well how he felt. They'd both let themselves down. And now they had to learn to live with it.

He looked at her then, straight at her, as if he too had made himself a promise to not get lost in lies again.

"I feel bad. I am so sorry for what I did to her."

He didn't say her name, but of course he didn't have to.

She merely nodded. Yes, she knew exactly how he felt.

"Me too."

He nodded too, took a strand her hair between his fingers and looked back up at her again.

"But I also don't." He struggled with the words but he didn't look away from her. It made her stomach flutter, against all odds. It made her start to believe that maybe it was for the best that the truth had come out.

"I feel...happy. I am happy that it's all over. That I am here with you now. That I don't have to lie anymore. And I feel guilty about that too."

She smiled at him, flattened her hand against his cheek.

"I know."

There didn't need anymore. They both knew what the situation was. They both knew what they regretted, and what they couldn't regret even if they should. This was the way it was and it was too late now. No going back.

Still...her one hand was still on his cheek. The other resting on his shoulder now, demanding his undivided attention.

"You know they will kill you, Fiyero. If they catch us...they will kill you."

A corner of his mouth pulled a little. A smile and a grimace at the same time.

"I know."

He rolled them over and slid his hands down her back, one hand moving down to her thigh, then her knee, to hook her leg around his hip. She moved with him because she didn't know anything else. Following unspoken instructions, and sat up. She straddled him, her hair tumbling down her front, tickling his chest.

This entire situation didn't make a lick of sense, but at the same time she felt more sure in her body, in her relationship with him than she ever had before.

It was far from perfect, but at least it was in the open. They'd be condemned for it, they'd be killed, but it was honest, at least. Not a hidden secret stashed away any more.

No, none of it made sense, but here they were. Together.

She watched as his hand came up, his fingers tracing her face, her ear, her collar bone.

"I can things of worse things to die for."


Her dress had a little rip in it.

A tiny little hole that she could barely put her pinky through.

Maybe if she was careful, it could be fixed and nobody would ever be the wiser. Nobody would know that there had ever been anything wrong with it in the first place.

Glinda fingered the edges of the tear. Yes, it could be fixed. Surely, the seamstress would have some blue fabric. Some thread. It would be fine.

She put her pinky through it and pulled.

There.

Now it would fit her thumb.

"Lost its gleam, has it?"

She startled and looked up. In the doorway, leaning as casually as she had seen him last, as she had seen him always, was Avaric Tenmeadows.

"What are you doing here?"

His eyebrows pulled upwards a little, but otherwise he gave no response. Just walked into the room, her private sitting room!, and walked towards the windows.

"And how did you get in here?"

He acknowledged neither of these questions as he pulled back the edge of a curtain and glanced outside.

"It's mess out there. You should hear what the lovely folks have to say about the dreadful ordeal."

Did everyone already know? She shouldn't be surprised, maybe. But it had only been a few hours and there had been so few people in the room. Who, she wondered, had been the first to spread the word?

She looked at Avaric as he looked outside, his back to her.

"Not that anyone out there knows their head from their ass. But who ever needed facts to form an opinion?"

He turned back towards her. She felt strange, the look he gave her making her uncomfortable. It felt like he was offering sympathy and making a mockery of her at the same time.

"I don't understand what you're doing here."

It was the best she could come up. It was the truth and she was, for once, too tired for lies.

"I came to see which of the stories out there is the right one."

She felt a look of disbelief settle on her face. It felt unfamiliar, foreign. She was rarely so surprised by what people said that it altered her facial expression, and she was never cynical. It didn't suit her. But she was now.

"Why do you care?"

A quick smile flitted over his face, but he looked away from her.

"I seemed to get asked that a lot, lately. Just as well, I suppose. Since I've been wondering myself.."

His gaze flitted across the room and his answer was barely more than a mumble, spoken to himself more than to her.

"What?"

He looked back at her, but only for a minute.

"Hm? Oh, never mind now. I meant to say that I don't know why I care. That's not likely to satisfy you, but there it is."

She didn't bother to hide her impatient sigh.

"I have no interest in talking to you right now, Avaric. So if you would just leave..."

He nodded but made no move to leave.

"So he left then?"

She ignored him.

"With Elphaba?"

She couldn't ignore that, her head shot up.

"What?"

"Well, it's out there, naturally. Most seem to think he's under some spell, though."

She didn't know how to respond to that. She wasn't sure what he knew, what he'd heard. But, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to go anymore either. She wanted to know what was out there. What people were saying. She needed to know.

She watched as he sat across from her, leaned back in the big armchair as if it had always been his. This all came to him naturally. She knew because it had always been the same for her.

"But..."

He looked at her but didn't finish his sentence.

"But, what?"

He narrowed his eyes a little, the corners crinkling. It made him look older, all of a sudden. More suave, but more human to. The things he must know about people, she thought suddenly.

"But...we both know there was no spell involved, don't we, Glinda?"

He didn't use honorifics and it felt good. She felt more real. Glinda the Good was a character, a charade of sorts. Glinda, that was her. He was talking to her.

She pressed her lips together and stuck out her chin.

"Yes, we do."

A small nod, and a smile of what seemed like approval.

"Huh. I gotta admit, I kind of expected you to deny it all."

She almost, almost smiled at that.

"Me too."

He laughed then and tilted his head. He seemed more real too.

"So why are you here, Avaric? Why did you come, if you already knew?"

"I wanted to see if you knew."

That wasn't all. She didn't doubt it.

"You know more than I do. Don't you?"

He took a breath and let it out again, slowly. Winning time, perhaps.

"I really don't think so. I think you know everything I know."

She knew all the tricks. She was a politician too.

"But you've known for longer."

A small nod. He wouldn't lie to her, it seemed. Perhaps it was sympathy. Perhaps it was because he knew they were in the same line of business and she wouldn't be fooled as easily.

"How long?"

"Not sure. A few months?"

She gasped at that, even if she wasn't surprised. She'd known, she supposed. The moment Fiyero turned to Elphaba and those words, grabbed her hand and took off without looking back at her, she'd known.

It wasn't a new thing. This had been going on. Behind my back...

"How did you know? Did Fiyero tell you?"

He let out a short laugh.

"Hell no. As if he'd ever come to me with any kind of sensitive information. Let alone something of this caliber. No. He never said a word."

She raised her eyebrow and he nodded. She needed more. He would give it.

"I ran into Elphaba."

That did shock her.

"You, what? Elphaba...but...why would she..how.."

He grimaced and she knew he didn't want to tell her what he was about to.

"Tell me, Avaric. Don't start sugarcoating now. You never have."

A nod of acknowledgment at that.

"True. Fine. They used my apartment a few times."

The look on her face must have been enough to spur him on. She was surprised by how much she wanted to hear this.

"I mean...I don't know how often, or when exactly, or can I tell you what exactly they did there..."

She raised her eyebrows at that as well and he smirked.

"Yeah, okay. But...look, Glin, I don't know. But I happened to be home one night, and Elphaba came in through the window. She confessed rather quickly. She's a bad liar."

"She always was."

She swallowed.

"You didn't speak to Fiyero then? About it?"

He got up and walked around his chair, then around hers.

"I did. When...don't you have alcohol here somewhere?"

He looked around the room again and followed to where her hand pointed.

"Ah. Glorious." He opened a bottle of amber liquid, the one Fiyero used to drink, and poured himself a glass. Held one up in question. She shook her head and he walked back to his chair, drink in hand.

"When the news of your engagement broke...Elphaba showed up again. I must admit I had stayed to see if either of them would show. She was..."

He didn't need to finish that sentence. Glinda knew enough of Elphie, and enough of love to take a guess.

"She spent the night in my guest bedroom, after getting way too drunk off way too few drinks."

He snorted at the memory and she found herself wondering. Drunk...She'd never seen Elphaba drunk. Couldn't imagine her so out of control.

"She loves him, if you were wondering."

She felt her entire body stiffen, goosebumps rising.

"I never claimed the opposite, Avaric."

Her tone was cold.

"I know. And I am not defending them."

"Aren't you?"

"No. I told Fiyero to chose. Elphaba told him to go back to you."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I was there for that conversation. A joy to be around for, let me tell you."

He shook his head and leaned forward. His glass was empty and she wondered if he'd refill it, and if maybe she wanted one if he did.

"Look. He loved you both. Still does, I suppose. He really didn't know what to do, but.."

She sighed again and shook her curls a little. The tiara itched but she couldn't bring herself to take it off.

"But he loves her more. Yes, I gathered."

"Glinda..."

She was tired. Too tired for this conversation. She wanted details, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle it.

"Avaric. I want you to leave."

"Fine. Fine. But...look. I know you're hurt. And angry. And you should be. More than you are. Many women I know would have been out there now, crying of scandals and trying to get the both of them hanged."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that you are not. You're in here, tearing a dress to pieces. You don't want them hurt."

No. He was right. But he was wrong, too. She'd told Morrible and the Wizard how to get Elphaba. The Witch. She'd thought of her as The Witch for no more than a moment, but it had been enough. Oz, what had she done?

She felt her lips part, on the verge of telling Avaric, but she stopped the words before they could leave her mouth.

"I don't want them dead, no."

Was that her voice? It sounded so exhausted.

"Okay. My point then is...they will be. If they get caught. They'll kill them both."

He couldn't possibly know what had happened in that throne room,what she'd done. She wanted to ask him, but that would only lead to questions she didn't want to answer.

"I don't know what to do about that. I don't have any power, Avaric. It's all fake."

"Not all of it. You're still Galinda Upland, aren't you?"

He walked over to the door and turned back around.

"I think you can turn this all around. Somehow. I don't know how, mind you. I am not cut from particularly brave cloth. But I think you could."

"How?"

"I don't know. Have a drink. It dulls the pain. Then figure it out."

She watched him disappear through the door into the wide hallway and stared into the empty space he left.

Have a drink.

Was alcohol everyone's answer for everything?

Still, maybe there was something to it.

She needed the ache to stop. Just for a moment.

She wanted them hurt, but she didn't want them dead. But she had gone and done something that could, that would, get them killed. If Elphaba did what Glinda thought she would, she'd be killed.

Killed. By her hands.

No...Oz, no...

She was angry, and she wanted them to know that. But not this. She'd never, ever...

For just a second, she wondered if this was what Elphaba had felt when she'd taken off with Fiyero. Or when she'd started it. Surprise at her own actions, because she'd done what she never would have expected from herself.

She got up from the sofa, slowly and carefully. She ignored the mirror on her right. She didn't want her mirror image right now. She wasn't sure she could bear the sight of herself. Instead, she reached up and pulled the tiara from her hair. It hurt, and she supposed that only made sense.

She marched over to the liquor cabinet that until Avaric had gone practically unused. Only Fiyero had sometimes...

Fiyero...

Her heart constricted.

Oz, Fiyero...

How could he...

No. She wasn't going there. She would. But not yet.

She would have a drink, yes.

She poured herself one from a bottle she didn't recognize, drank it in one long gulp and refilled the glass again.

Have a drink. It dulls the pain...

Have a drink...

Have a drink...

She barely noticed the glass break, the liquid spreading over intricately carved wood. She was out the door before it even hit the floor.


Hopefully, tomorrow. If not, then in only a few days.