Glinda had grown accustomed to the nameless guard assigned to walk with her to and from the office, and was stationed outside all day. She didn't know how Rakelle was fairing, but hoped she wasn't taking any negative feelings out on the poor guard. There was a chance the two guards were also being punished for something, and hated this just as much as they did.

As December loomed over the city, snow was a frequent occurrence, causing delays and closings. Unfortunately, the same didn't apply to the palace staff, who were needed around the clock. Most were trying to earn overtime to buy their friends and families nice Lurlinemas gifts.

Once again, the prophecy wasn't at the forefront of Glinda's mind. Avaric had enlisted her as his temporary meeting notetaker again. She was fully aware of Elphaba staring at her during the meetings, but she never looked up from her notepad. She couldn't face her after everything. She was relieved she didn't ask her to stay afterwards and walked back (with the guard) to the office, where she sat in silence and typed for the rest of the day. She had been throwing herself completely into her work, trying to get as much done in the little allotted time.

"Alright, everyone! Listen up!" Chyde called from the center of the office, holding a bucket. "As you all know, our office's annual Lurlinemas party is next week on the twentieth, and it's time to pick out names for the secret gift exchange. Everyone line up!"

That's the day before the Solstice, Glinda thought as she got in line with everyone else to pick a name. She felt like she was at a disadvantage, since she didn't really know any of her co-workers. But how hard would it be to find a non-expensive little trinket for – she looked at the name she had pulled – Hirvtae Thynkert. Perhaps something simple, like one of those charm bracelets from the tourist shop across the street. They look like the real thing, for less than half the price.

"You're allowed to bring a plus-one. And only one plus-one. As long as you remember the rules; if they get too drunk, you're responsible for them. We don't want a repeat of last year's incident."

A few girls giggled and Chyde loudly cleared his throat.

"What happened last year?" Glinda whispered to Mynifred.

Mynifred smirked. "You just need to know that, the morning after, Chyde came in, cocked his head slightly to the side, and shouted, 'Whose damn panties are on the bulletin board?!'."

That's nasty, Glinda shivered. She had no idea her coworkers were freaky.

"Yeah, last year was crazy," Hirvtae chuckled. "We never found out who's underwear that was."

"Needless to say," Chyde continued, not hearing the girls' conversation. "I expect everyone to be on their best behavior this year. I really don't want to have to call in the Gale Force."

"Understood," the girls chorused, getting back to work.

Glinda pocketed the strip of paper with Hirvtae's name on it, too preoccupied to focus on a party. Honestly, she was feeling more tired than usual, so she might not even go. But she'd be sure to still buy a gift and probably just leave it with Chyde.

She finished Avaric's folder and left to go give it to him. As commanded, the guard followed her. In all honestly, Glinda would have preferred to be secretly spied on, instead of knowing the guard was right next to her. She felt like she was doing something wrong, even though she was just doing her job. She wondered how long it would be until she regained enough of the queen's trust for this to stop.

She quickly dropped the files on Avaric's desk. The private secretary was absent, due to a meeting with the queen, and Glinda was grateful to be in and out. She hated going into the private secretary's stuffy office, especially when he was in there. Back in the office, the air was filled with the conversations and chatter of the Lurlinemas party, from present ideas to what everyone will be wearing. Glinda always considered herself on top of the latest fashion trends, but for some reason, she didn't feel like discussing matching colors with her colleagues.

"What's that color that's an off-white pale-cream blue?" her neighbor asked.

"Mimka… what?" another girl blinked before bursting into laugher. "Off-white pale-cream blue?"

"I don't know how else to describe it."

"You mean pastel?"

Mimka thought for a moment. "… Yeah, probably. I don't know. I'll know the color when I see it."

Glinda tuned them out and focused on typing, her vision slowly blurring as her eyes lazily danced across the words. It was when she realized that the report she was typing didn't say 'a pile of jerseys' but 'apologize' that she knew she needed to take a break. She took the finished file from the typewriter and, leaning back, stretched out her legs and closed her eyes. Perhaps she was overheating and needed some cold water or a bit of fresh air. Opening the window was out of the question; she didn't need the whole office yelling at her. So she simply went over to the water cooler and grabbed a plastic cup, filling it with the cold liquid. She took a few sips, feeling slightly better. She went back to her desk, but before she reached her cubicle, an unexpected wave of dizziness overcame her. She swayed, unable to right herself before crashing to the ground, her water spilling all over her face.

Glinda's eyes slowly fluttered open with a groan. All she saw was a bright, white light, which made her think she was dead. Then she realized that she was breathing, albeit a bit labored. She forced her eyes open once again and realized she was in a hospital room.

"Ah, Miss Upland. You're awake."

She forced her head to turn towards the sound. She had established that since she wasn't dead, the man in the white coat by her bedside must not be an angel, but a doctor. "What…"

"You were unconscious for seven hours, dehydrated and over-exhausted. You're lucky you got here when you did."

Glinda groaned. Had she really missed a whole day of work? She didn't even want to imagine the pile that would be waiting for her when she got back.

"We want to keep you overnight for observation. If you improve, you can go home, with strict orders to take it easy for the next few days." He made a few notes, then left.

Glinda pushed herself up with a grunt, her eyes slamming shut against the wave of dizziness. She looked over and saw a large bouquet of flowers; poppies and irises. A card stuck out from the center and she reached over, her brow furrowing when she saw who they were from, signed in neat, golden cursive.

Her Supreme Ozness, Queen Elphaba.

The queen had sent her flowers? She had heard what had happened? Glinda shook her head. What a stupid question. Of course she had heard. Nothing happens in the palace without her finding out. Perhaps this was her way of extending an olive branch and allowing them to go back to the way they were before. She really hated feeling on edge around her, especially after everything they went through.

She spent the night in the hospital, though she didn't get much sleep. The sheets were scratchy and the hospital gown was stiff. She longed for her own bed and soft pajamas, and hoped she would be discharged the following day.

She had to stay an extra day before being allowed to go home. Something about needing to continually monitor her blood pressure and keeping her hydrated. When she was finally allowed to leave, she was shocked to see Fiyero waiting for her in the waiting area, his face melting from concern to relief upon seeing her.

"Glin, I'm so happy you're alright," he smiled, wrapping her in a gentle embrace. "I was so worried, but they wouldn't let me see you because we're not related. I considered lying, but then they asked for ID, and then -"

"Thanks, Fiyero. I understand. I'm just happy to go home," Glinda sniffed.

"Nice flowers."

"Thanks. They're from the queen."

"She sent you flowers? That's… nice of her." He paused. "You're not planning to go back to work tomorrow, are you?"

"I was told I could if I took it easy."

"'Taking it easy' isn't part of the job description of those working in the palace." He took her hand and led her to his car. "Why weren't you taking care of yourself?"

"I wasn't trying to make any of this happen. I was… distracting myself."

"From?"

"From the poem and everything surrounding it." She waited until she got in his car to tell him the next part. "There's going to be a solar eclipse in five days. It's the day after the solstice. It's scary that I feel something bad is going to happen, but no one believes me."

"I believe you, and so does Rakelle."

"But she doesn't."

Fiyero started the engine and pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "I think she might. I don't know if she's fully on board with the 'coup' idea, but I think she'll be careful."

"How do you know?"

"I had a conversation with her. She called me into her office to ask me why I wasn't ruling the Vinkus."

Glinda cringed. "She found out the whole truth?"

"She found out who I was and I told her the whole truth. I might have scared her, but she needs to learn that every threat must be taken seriously, even if all signs point to it being fake. There's always at least a tiny bit of truth behind every lie. That's what makes them so convincing."

"So you don't think I'm being crazy and paranoid about all this?"

"People just don't make up stories like this. You have every right to be paranoid. And you were always a little crazy," he added jokingly.

Glinda rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

The car slowed to a stop in front of Glinda's apartment, and he offered to walk her up. She accepted, secretly relishing the feeling of the ex-prince's arms around her shoulders. She didn't really need him for balance, but she leaned against him anyway.

"Thanks, Fiyero," she said, stopping in front of her door.

He smiled. "Of course, Glin. Um… call me if you need anything."

"I will."

"And take it easy. Don't come back to the palace until you're ready."

"Okay." She unlocked her door and slipped inside, giving him a shy wave as she gently closed the door behind her. She slowly exhaled, filling a glass with water and putting the queen's flowers inside. She quickly changed and climbed into bed with a magazine. She felt a bit better as she sunk against her pillows, her eyes fluttering closed before she could turn the first page.

Fiyero hated being called into a superior's office without notice. His father used to do that to him, and it always ended with a berating conversation about his behavior or about how he wasn't paying attention during a meeting. But now, he would give anything to have one of those conversations again, even if it was just his father scowling at him while his mother begged him to take his future duties seriously.

That's why he was worried when he received a personal summons from the queen for the following day. And to make it even scarier, he wasn't meeting her in her office, but in the second floor private parlor. And was told that he must change out of his uniform and into formal attire. He wished people would give him at least a little information instead of just telling him what to do.

When Fiyero appeared in the doorway of the royal private parlor, he was surprised to find a small table, decorated with a large candle, and two full banquet place settings, and two chairs across from each other. He looked up and met Elphaba's eyes. The queen was wearing an off-the-shoulder mulberry dress with an A-line skirt, flowing down to her mid-calves. Her hair was down, adorned with only a simple headband.

"Corporal," she nodded.

"Your Ozness," Fiyero bowed. "What's all this?"

"My father started a tradition of having a private dinner with the other Ozian leaders whenever they came to visit the city. Your parents had this honor, ten times, to be exact, more than any other leader. I figured that it's only fair that you get to experience it, too."

Fiyero's lips twitched. He remembered how his parents would leave him in the care of his nanny when they took business trips to the city. And she was right; it had been ten times. But as far as he knew, they never went to the city with the intent of meeting with the Wizard. The Wizard somehow always knew when they were there and invited (commanded) them to the palace. "Oh."

Elphaba frowned. "You don't like it?"

"N-no, no, it's not that. This is just very unexpected. Nice, but unexpected. But I'm no longer the crown prince of the Vinkus. I'm not even a high ranking officer in the Gale Force. I'm not important enough anymore, especially for something of this grandeur."

"I think you are."

Fiyero bit his lip. Why was she doing this?

"Please sit."

Not wanting to seem even ruder than he probably already was, Fiyero nodded and sat down, Elphaba doing the same. Once they were seated, a side door opened and servants brought out their food.

"Do you like cider?" Elphaba asked as the servant poured her drink.

"Yes." He wasn't much of a drinker anymore (since it would be undesirable for him to show up to work hungover), but wanted to be polite. He had to dust off the "royal" part of his brain to remember his etiquette lessons, since he didn't want to make a mistake.

"Most of the other leaders are wine drinkers, some consider themselves critics, but most wines are water-based, and non-diluted wines are much too strong."

"Cider's fine," he said, nodding to the servant, who poured his glass.

"It's alright," Elphaba said, sensing his nerves. "I'm not going to chide you for not knowing which fork to use. This was very last minute, and as informal as it gets. Normally, the leaders are told months in advance and have ample time to prepare. I didn't want that."

Fiyero blinked at her. If she wanted this to be informal, why was he in formal-wear?

"Not like that. I mean… I didn't want the stiffness and principle and protocol."

That still didn't answer his unasked question. "You hate it?"

"'Hate' is a strong word, but yes." She nodded to dismiss the servers. "I wanted this to be different. More comfortable and less… fake."

That did nothing to make Fiyero feel any more comfortable. He focused on cutting his meat.

"Tell me about yourself." As soon as she said it, Elphaba winced. That sounded less commanding in her head.

"Like what?"

"Perhaps your childhood, if it doesn't hurt too much," she added when Fiyero's expression darkened.

"My parents were very busy, but they tried to spend as much time with me as possible. They would take me to the Thousand Year Grasslands for picnics and other events I wanted to go to. They instilled a sense of duty to the people in me since I was old enough to walk, so I would go with them to soup kitchens, hospitals, and poor houses. It was my duty to protect and serve the Vinkun people."

"I had the same. The instilling duty part, though not by my father, by my tutors, though they never took me on any field trips. They would go on rants, and I confess, I never paid much attention."

"I was the same," Fiyero chuckled. "But I took every opportunity to be with them."

They fell into an awkward silence.

"You can ask me questions, if you want," she added, nervously fidgeting with her napkin. "If you don't want to keep talking about yourself."

"I relish every opportunity I can to be self-absorbed, but I suppose I can share the spotlight."

Elphaba chuckled and he found himself relaxing even more.

He returned the smile. "Perhaps we should start simple. How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. You?"

"Twenty-three. What's your favorite color?"

"Any that I won't clash with. My wardrobe is filled with dark shades of almost every color, except black. I can't wear black unless I'm mourning. One of the rare rules I'm forced to follow."

Fiyero grinned, then sobered. "Sometimes… I wonder what it would be like if I were king. Obviously, I didn't plan on being king for a while, since my father was still very healthy and going strong. But the thought would cross my mind as their only child."

"What would have been one of your plans?"

"Before or after I outlawed Mondays?"

Elphaba chuckled. "Are you proposing I do that?"

"It's not a bad idea."

"I'll consider it." She sighed. "I would think of it as more of a burden than an honor. I never really wanted this life. Sometimes, I feel like I know what I'm doing because I've prepared for it my entire life, yet I also have no clue what I'm doing at the same time. I just wanted to spend time with my father, but saw his duty getting in the way. That's why I resented it."

"That's why you're so cold." He ignored the look she gave him. "You're so used to not having any close relationships with anyone that you force them away."

"Miss Upland didn't give me much of a choice."

"Yeah. Glinda can weasel her way into or out of any situation. She can destroy even the toughest of walls. She can see through a lot of pretenses, even if she pretends not to. She's a sweet summer child, but she'll tear apart anyone who messes with someone she cares about. I've only known her for a brief time, but I know she's a great friend."

"Yes," Elphaba agreed. "She is."

"If you're wondering if you can trust her, you can. I know everything she's told you sounds crazy, but it's –"

"She told you about the poem?"

"Yes."

"How many people are involved in this?"

"Just three people, all of whom have been sworn to secrecy. Glinda, Rakelle, and myself. You would be the fourth."

Her face darkened. "I don't want to talk about this."

"All threats should be taken seriously, Your Ozness. Even if it sounds like an old legend or made-up story."

"Are you just saying this because you couldn't protect your parents, so you're trying to protect me instead to make up for it?"

That hurt, and Fiyero felt himself losing his appetite. He bit the inside of his lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. "You may not want to believe it. I didn't want to believe what happened three years ago. It only takes a moment for something seemingly silly to turn into something substantial." He knew he risked ruining the dinner, but it was worth it to stop this from being her last one.

Elphaba turned away, her food forgotten. She wished it was just as easy to forget other things. When she turned back, she noticed the Vinkun's cheeks were wet. "I've hurt you," she said remorsefully, rising and moving her chair to the Fiyero's. She settled back and slowly raised her hand to his face. She gently wiped his tears, barely feeling the sting against her fingertips.

This gesture seemed to make him cry more. Elphaba knew she could have just grabbed a napkin to protect herself, but even with the lack of touch in her life, she knew this is what he needed. Besides, it was only a sting, nothing she couldn't handle.

It took a minute, but Fiyero calmed, wiping his face. He felt Elphaba take his hands and looked down, seeing the fresh burn marks on her skin. "I've hurt you."

Elphaba shook her head. "No, you didn't. I barely feel it. I know I can be stubborn and frustrating, and it drives the people, who are supposed to help me, crazy. I have no reason to believe that there's a coup, but at the same time, I do. Every leader has their enemies, and I don't know who mine are. They could be random people I don't know, or people I depend on and trust. Not knowing is… terrifying. I don't want to find out the hard way."

Now she was crying. Fiyero was quick to dry her tears the way she dried his, but not before red streaks appeared on her cheeks. It probably wasn't proper, but all bets were off at that point.

"I've never cried in front of anyone before," Elphaba whispered, grabbing a napkin and gently blotting underneath her eyes. "And not just because of my adversity to water."

"People have the wrong impression of you."

"They have the impression I've given them."

"They should know this side of you. You're not as aloof and snappy as they say. And… I'm glad we could be vulnerable in front of each other."

"I am, too."

"You said this would be an informal dinner," Fiyero smiled.

She laughed. "Yes, I did."

"May I ask about it, though?"

"About what?"

"The water."

She looked wary, but nodded. "Go on."

"So, you can't cry?"

"I can." She gestured to her face. "I'm physically able to. This is just what happens as a result. Touching water burns my skin, and drinking it burns my throat. Tears and sweat have the same effect, to a lesser extent. I clean myself with special oils."

Fiyero nodded in understanding. "I suppose it's my turn to share a secret. Though, I don't believe I have one to top that."

"No, you don't have to if you don't want to. But… can we talk about something happier?"

"I think we've both earned it. So, back to outlawing Mondays…"

Glinda was jolted awake from a loud noise. She groaned, rubbing her face. The loud bang had scared the dream right out of her memory, so she didn't even know if it had been a nightmare or not. Was it thunder? She looked outside; no, no rain. She didn't know what it was at first, but after more banging, she realized it was someone banging on her door. She checked her clock. Three-eighteen AM. Groaning, she threw off the covers and her legs over the edge of the bed, sliding into her fuzzy slippers. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" she exclaimed when the banging wouldn't stop. She slipped into her robe, lazily tying the rope into a loose bow, and stumbled into the hall. Who could this be at such an unholy hour?

A moment later, a groggy Glinda opened the door and her jaw dropped when she saw who it was. "Oz…" she whispered.

Elphaba stood before her, her eyes bloodshot and wide with terrified confusion. "Glinda…"

The blonde could only stare. The queen of Oz was at her door in the early morning hours, clearly distressed. They hadn't spoken to each other since that day in her office. She quickly ushered her inside and closed the door behind her, hoping the banging hadn't awoken her nosy neighbors. "What's going on? What are you doing here?"

"The… the answer to both your questions is the same," the queen said, her voice hoarse. "I... I don't know."