A/N:I hope this chapter works for you guys, I have been rereading and reediting it so much, that I don't know if it makes sense anymore. Obviously, the summer is over, and lots of new things are happening in that mysterious world aka RL. That translates to fewer and further in between updates, as you might have taken notice of;-)
I shall continue to do my best..but, well, the plot thickens..and I need to take a lot of care with the next chapters. Sincerely hope you will enjoy them! Xoxo
Glinda knew, that her Grand Vezier was a little shocked when "The Ozian News" reporter whom she had requested through him earlier in the day, had almost literally dropped everything at her call and rushed to the castle in a frenzy to meet his doom in the form of the small Ruler.
But the blonde knew the sort better than the old gardener.
Having been a gossip and the source of much herself during her glory days in College, she was more than a little familiar with the bite of curiosity, the thrill of secrets unveiled, the glory of knowledge.
Reprimands.. punishment and lawsuits even, paled in contrast to the deep satisfaction that made life larger than life itself to an innately curious about other people person, such as was the reporter of "The Ozian News".
He seemed to have taken a particular shine to her ever since she had stepped upon the throne of Oz," abandoned and alone".
A man with a love for mystery and tragedy.. and romance.
Perfection.
Glinda had taken her sweet time eating lunch, even though she had known that the journalist had already been waiting for her in the castle when she had sat down with Elphaba for her midday meal.
She had given her sincerest apologies for the prolonged wait to one of the guards, who had been certainly milked for the information, of why exactly she had been detained.
And with whom.
Or rather where..with a lunch for two.
"That must have been a little over an hour ago", Glinda mused, as she covered the last of the distance towards another one of her official sitting rooms.
The blonde put on a quick and hurried smile, as she rushed through the door.
The reporter, startled a little by the sudden commotion, immediately got up, only to bow deeply before her.
But the Ruler of Oz, in a gesture of familiarity, quickly took his hand and shook it.
"Please," she said, "I believe you are more familiar with me, than I am myself."
At this obvious, although twofold flattery of his handiwork, the man across from her smiled, before slowly resuming his seat opposite an immaculate oaken desk.
Glinda quickly shuffled around to the other side of it and as swiftly as her elaborate dress would allow, sat down herself.
She knew, that in the process, thinking her unguarded for the moment, quick eyes were taking in her cheeks that were still flushed from laughter and a glass of wine.
Her hair, that had battled its way out of its bounds, as was its wont to do by midday, would not go unnoticed either.
Her lipstick would be a little off as well, having just eaten and drunk.
Today, and only today, she had not used the opportunity of lunch to "freshen up", as she usually did, in between her morning and afternoon appointments.
The impression she was giving off was that of one being slightly and ever so subtly "disheveled".
A quick flick of the journalist's eyebrow gave him away.
He had noticed.
He had certainly noticed.
But his voice was even and measured as he spoke.
"In case, you have requested my presence here to reprimand me, for the ahem.. headlines in the past few days..please do be assured of my sincerest apologies.."
The man across from her now studied the desk they were sitting at in seemingly complete sincerity.
Unwavering.
Glinda suppressed a quick smile.
Oh, he was good.
This would be delightful.
The Ruler of Oz leaned back into her well cushioned seat and spread her hands before her midst, to rest the fingertips against one another in a well practiced manner of contemplation.
Her mouth was set sternly.
She kept looking intently at the place where her fingers intercepted each other as she addressed the dark blonde man sitting before her.
" I have always been under the impression that "The Ozian News" has been a newspaper of reputable reputation.." Glinda began, dejectedly shaking her head to herself.
Looking up, she saw the reporter arch an inquiring eyebrow her way.
"Madam," he responded, faking outrage, and faking it well, " We only credit reliable sources and only publish if there are multiple of those."
Now it was Glinda's turn to raise a blonde eyebrow in sheer disbelief.
"Multiple sources?", she asked incredulously.
The journalist leaned back in his chair smugly, allowing his hands to rest in his lap.
"If you shall remember, I was there myself, the night of the ball." He said undisturbed, by the Ruler's stern and unbelieving gaze.
His voice, surprisingly enough, however, softened as he continued.
"Everyone in that room could see how " he bit his lip, " close you were with that special guest from the Vinkus."
Glinda looked at him uncertainly.
There was something in his eyes, his expression, that she couldn't quite place.
It was something..personal.
Different.
And for a moment, she felt the panic rise in her throat.
"No one of malintent towards her would be able to cross the borders of the castle" she reminded herself.
The sound of the incantation in her head calmed her nerves somewhat.
So this mysterious young man did not harbor evil in his heart towards her.
But there was.. something .
Something other than mere professional curiosity in her person.
He kept studying her quietly, openly.
And there was something in the way he raised his elbow onto the armrest of his chair, a grace with which he settled his chin into his palm, still watching her.
Unwavering, still.
And Glinda remembered.
Remembered him, and remembered the articles by his pen.
It had been a complete non issue, that there was a princess and not a prince purportedly coinhabiting her chambers.
And it had already been prior to Elphaba's appearance.
A non issue.
At all times.
The gender of the particular dancer that might have struck her fancy one night or another.
A statesman, a princess, a nobleman.. a maid, even.
Rumors had been bountiful, and she had kept them that way on purpose.
But he, he, the young journalist, specialized in all matters Glinda the Good, Upland, Ruler of all of Oz, he had woven the tales.
And there had never been an issue around that matter.
The particular matter of what..it had always been who.
Articles upon articles..all penned by one and the same person.
Him.
And after all, she trusted in him to continue just as he had done.
Write about the particular matter of who and not what.
Trusted him with everything she would never want to risk.
And he would never know how much she trusted, had to trust him, in this.
Glinda looked at the journalist unsteadily, swallowing down the new surge of panic that threatened to overtake her.
He met her eyes, and the way he unglued his head from his hand, where it had rested, the gesture being just a little too graceful, a little too artful, a little too feminine, gave him away.
And there it was..a silent understanding passed between them.
The blonde immediately looked back down at her desk, blushing lightly.
"I was there myself, and I did not see her leave that night, and I did wait and check, " the reporter continued their previous conversation, quietly.
"Therefore, the stable boy's statement only served as proof to my own observation."
He leaned back into the equally soft cushions of his chair.
"Which was?" Glinda looked at his youthful, handsome face, chewing anxiously on her lip, and blushing quite profusely now.
Suddenly, the journalist unlatched himself from his comfortable position and bent forward, effectively bridging the gap, that the wooden desk forced between them, as he answered.
"That our prayers have finally been answered, and the Lady of Oz has finally found someone that her heart desires." he softly.
Tears started to Glinda's eyes.
She quickly got up to walk over to the window in an effort to hide them from her observant visitor.
Silence fell over the room, as she studied the greenery outside for a few minutes, obviously struggling with her composure.
Finally, she turned back around to face the young man, who wasn't quite so young any more, after all.
And neither was she.
"Life has strange twists and turns sometimes.." Glinda stated calmly, wiping away at her tear filled eyes, before sitting back down.
The young man, well bred and of good manners, briefly rose out of his chair and handed her a handkerchief.
"Yeah," he said,trying to lighten the mood with a wry smile, " who would have thought..of all people a Vinkus princess, surprise!"
Both of them laughed at this.
The blonde blew her nose into the tissue loudly before looking back up at him.
"Oh," she said off handedly, "we have known each other for a long time."
The glint in the journalist's eyes almost illuminated the room.
"Really?" he said, again, leaning forward almost imperceptibly.
"And there, the hound has finally picked up a scent"..Glinda thought to herself.
"Yes.." the Ruler of Oz dabbed at her eyes, trying to pretend she did not notice the sudden flare of interest from the other side of the desk.
"We used to be friends..then enemies.."
"And now lovers.." the journalists finished for her, leaning back and resting his hands in his lap.
But his eyes were alert and betrayed the true attitude of his seemingly relaxed position.
Glinda shrugged her shoulders, blushing and smiling shyly.
"You know how it is..you think you know someone..and then you think you don't.." she wiped the back of her hand over her eyes again.
"And then it turns out you were right the first time.." she continued in a sudden whisper, her head lowered itself again in an intense study of the wooden surface of the workplace, that, in truth, had never seen a day's trouble.
"You know," the witch continued, catching the eyes across the table, with all the sadness she could muster in her own.
"People change.." her voice broke and she almost started crying again, but just managed to control herself.
Suddenly a soft hand was put over her own.
"But you know, what the real surprise is..the..the miracle?" Glinda looked at the Ozian News reporter from underneath her hair, which had by now, become almost completely undone.
"Love.." she paused, taking another look out of the window, noting how late it was already, but she was sure, that the press of the paper would stand still yet, for this story to appear tomorrow.
"Love.." she returned a pair of wet, very blue eyes to the man in front of her.
"It changes people.." she continued on, her voice barely audible now, and wrested with emotion.
To her satisfaction, there was a sniffle from across the table.
When she looked up from her intricate study of the desk's surface, she found, that another pair of eyes had started to fill with tears.
"It makes people brave.." Glinda continued tonelessly, staring out of the window now.
"It makes people..good." she smiled bravely back at the man in front of her.
"It makes people endure..", she held his gaze mysteriously for a few moments, before continuing on.
"It makes people different." she finished with a sigh.
The reporter only patted her hand in understanding, wiping away at his own, solitary, tear.
"So..she has been changed for the better because of her love for you?" he asked innocently enough.
Glinda felt her own voice catch in her throat, truly unable to respond to that.
"Yes.." she managed to strangle out of herself in a harsh whisper.
"But not only that.." she really needed to get back on track here.
"The love for her daughter."
A hand flew to the reporter's mouth.
"She has a child?" he asked, and Glinda could almost see the headlines in the other person's head begin to form.
But they weren't quite there yet.
"Yes..and it.." Glinda stuttered now, seemingly overcome with emotion herself.
"It changed her.." she whispered, shaking her head at herself in disbelief.
She felt the hand, that had been put over her own, tighten in reassurance.
"I know..I know..how it does.." the journalist reassured her.
The blonde glanced briefly at him.
He really wasn't that young anymore..younger than her by just a little..but she had done her research about "The Ozian News" reporter with a special interest in the Lady Upland, not too long a time ago.
Gossip works both ways, after all.
He was raising a small child, seemingly by himself.
Mother unknown.
"So..she changed..and we had been friends before.." her voice became more and more of an emotional stutter.
It was getting late..and Glinda needed to gain some ground.
"So..she came back..to me..to ask my forgiveness.." again, the blonde wiped at her eyes, adding a brief pause before continuing on.
"And I found, that I could not let her go again." She smiled feebly through a new bout of tears.
"You love her." the melodious voice across from her concluded nonchalantly.
Busy with the handkerchief, the blonde only nodded.
"And she loves you, too?" the journalist queried , immediately.
Glinda smiled sheepishly back at him, despite being still so overcome by sheer feeling, that she had to dab furiously at her eyes for her crying not to ruin the carefully applied make up.
She took another moment to compose herself, unsuccessfully.
"Yes..it is..she' s..like a..like a light.." and Glinda's eyes almost seemed to illuminate the whole room.
Again, the reporter squeezed her hand with emotion.
"What about the father?" he asked suddenly.
"Dead." Glinda answered curtly.
Her tone dismissed any further questioning in that direction.
The young man looked back down at the desk, collecting his thoughts for a moment.
"So..what do you plan on doing?" he looked at his Ruler unsurely.
" I..I offer you my confidentiality." The young man said after a small pause, biting his lip again, and the young woman could see, what that offer was taking out of him.
This time, it was her turn to put her hand over his.
"There is no need." The blonde smiled softly at him.
She could see relief and surprise wash over his face.
"Everyone knows that I am hiding some sort of elephant in this castle anyways." Her eyebrow shot up a little in scolding at him.
"But in these..in these dire times..I want..I want for all of Oz to see..that there is a healing power..a miraculous power in..in love." her eyes gleamed,reignited, as she caught the other pair again.
"The love we have for our children..for..for each other.." she smiled genuinely , giving his hand a squeeze at the words, "it is ..in the end, what makes us good. That and only that, has the power to save us from the wickedness inside each and everyone of us."
Glinda allowed for silence to permeate the room and add weight to her words.
Her gaze lingered on their hands.
Hers, bare, finely manicured, fingernails painted a pearly white today and now covering his pale, slightly abrased knuckles.
Ink stained the cuticles of his fingernails permanently, no matter how much he had obviously scrubbed away at it before appearing at the royal abode.
A true penman.
A man of the word.
Glinda felt herself grow a little nervous again, as she felt the heaviness of the situation oppress her a little.
"So, the Vinkus princess.. she is truly good now?" the journalist smiled benignly at the Ruler of his country, for lack of anything to say, after a few minutes had passed.
"She s not a Vinkus princess.." Glinda winked at him, quickly catching herself and looking up, "But yes..yes..she is truly good now."
"As good as any of us, ever dare to be."
Taken aback by the piece of news, that made all of the research of the last two days go up in smoke, the reporter blinked at the blonde.
Twice.
The Lady of Oz only gave him another enigmatic smile.
"Don't worry, you will meet her tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Me?" he couldn't believe his luck.
"Well, all of Oz." Glinda almost beamed at him again.
"It is time, that the people of Oz meet that special someone, who has been helping me bring good to them, and who will be continuing to do so."
Her eyes waited for the reporter's reaction impatiently.
"Bring..bring..good to us?" he asked, suddenly very unsure.
"Yes, for to love me, one must love Oz.." Glinda nodded at him this time, while getting up from her chair, and indicated for the young man to do the same.
It was getting late, and she was sorry to rush this, but timing was of the essence here, after all.
The press wouldn't stand still forever.
"And I couldn't love anyone who does not love my people." She walked the reporter over to the door.
There was a brief faltering in his step as she ushered him along.
Suddenly Glinda the Good turned to face him directly.
"Wasn't that what you had prayed for?" she asked him softly, while her hand rested on the door handle.
"Someone whom my heart desires..who would stand by my side?"
"Yes." The reporter's eyes were reinhabited by that romantic gleam, that Glinda had not mistaken him for.
"Then the people of Oz deserve to meet her, tomorrow."
" At sixteenhundred hours sharp."
With that she opened the door, and the young man turned to leave.
"Thank you." She said gently, as if on an afterthought.
Without warning, Glinda, instead of taking his hand, for a formal goodbye shake, embraced the journalist swiftly.
He was taken aback by the sudden familiarity of the gesture the very Ruler of Oz seemed fit to bestow upon him.
In fact, he was so taken aback, that he didn't notice her holding on just a little too tightly , for just the hint of a moment.
He did not notice the fleeting desperation in the embrace.
He only felt the honor and the warmth.
"See you tomorrow then." Glinda waved after the thoroughly shocked Ozian newsjournalist.
On a last thought she called out, "And stay away from my stable boys!"
With that she quickly shut the door behind herself.
"This.." she summed up to herself, leaning against the dorr for a moment," has gone exactly according to plan."
Taking out a few more handkerchiefs of her the desk's drawer, she turned to the mirror by the entrance of the room.
Dabbing away at her tear stained make up, she quickly reapplied it with the one she had brought back here with her.
During her childhood, there had never been a dress, a toy, a thing, that had she wanted it, she ever had to go without.
Crying on cue had been, much to her parent's dismay, her specialty.
The only one immune in her household to that special power of hers, had been Mem.
And she needed to talk to her, too, before dinner.
