AN: Hallo, hello, hello!

Welcome to the very final instalment of this story!
It's nothing major, really... This Epilogue is only 1.7k words long and is more of an additional insight than anything adding to the plot. Hope this will do for you.

PLEASE READ:

This Epilogue concludes the story. It is meant to work for both endings.

A ENDING READERS-This Epilogue is written from Elphaba's POV. How can that be, you ask? Well, for the purpose of the A ending, this is set in the night before they set out to bring down the storm. It's the night when they shared Glinda's tiny cot etc. This barely factors in as far as the descriptions go, but it might help you to imagine it and place it in the chronology of the fic.

B ENDING READERS-I don't care whether you think of this Elphie POV Epilogue as set in the night before they sort out the storm (as I said it was for A Ending) or after their little fun time in Glinda's bedroom at the palace. It doesn't really matter, ambiguous as I wrote it. It could even be set In that night after the storm, when Glinda didn't want to go "home" just yet. Be my guest, choose whatever pleases you most!

Ok, thanks for your attention. Now please enjoy this little Epilogue. I'll pipe up again in the end of the chapter! Until then, happy reading!

Epilogue

Elphaba blinked, realising that she'd almost nodded off to sleep.

Almost.

Well, weariness sure was catching up on her, and she couldn't say that she was particularly surprised. And yet, she hated the very idea of wasting but one clock tick of the brief, precious time she had left to spend with her love. Whatever happened next, they wouldn't be able to blissfully live the rest of their lives together, no matter how desperately they both wished it were even remotely possible. Snapshots at happiness were the best they could hope for, and she was ready to settle for that. This didn't mean, however, that she was quite ready to give up the feeling of holding Glinda in her arms so soon.

The blonde in question looked so peaceful as she slept, so breathtakingly beautiful. So frighteningly real. Elphaba continued to struggle wrapping her head around how they had found each other again after so many years. So many agonising, lonely years.

She didn't believe in 'miracles' nor 'fate' but in lieu of those words, what should she call this? It certainly wasn't what she'd come to expect from life, that much she could tell. Maybe it was all a colossal, lucky coincidence. The very best kind of coincidence, and either way, she was grateful. So immeasurably grateful, although she didn't know how exactly to show it. Other than by holding Glinda close and combing her long fingers through golden curls that was. Inhaling her scent and basking in her warmth, she was nothing short of fascinated at how something could feel so new, and yet so familiar all at once.

In spite of the time that had passed, in spite of the hardships Elphaba had unwittingly dragged her into; Elphaba's heart both soared and ached at the thought of how much Glinda still was the very same girl who would come back to their dorm room at two in the morning after a night of partying and drinking, flopping down in the wrong bed, simply because it was closer to the door. After the first occasion of this happening and after receiving this exact explanation, Elphaba had offered to swap beds with her, to make things easier for both of them. Indignantly, Glinda had replied that the spot by the door was far too draughty for her liking. Somehow, that hand't stopped her from returning to Elphaba's lousy, draughty bed every weekend, as long as she could claim to be sufficiently drunk and partied out. Eventually, Elphaba had learnt to stop complaining about disturbed sleep, and to anticipate her upcoming arrival instead, and with growing enthusiasm, too.

Good old times; they really had been, at last where her absurdly pretty and generous roommate factored in.

But of course, Glinda had also changed some over the years, in good ways and in… well, not bad ways. Just… in ways that made Elphaba a little sad. Because for all the strength she'd accumulated since Elphaba last properly knew her, her vulnerability seemed so much more obvious to her these days. She reckoned that it was at least partially her fault for following along with Fiyero's plan and faking her own death. That indeed had cut Glinda far deeper than Elphaba could have anticipated. She understood that now. Now that Glinda had confessed her feelings, opened up her heart and soul for her to come and live there for all eternity. It didn't bear imagining what her sweet must have suffered through, being left behind like that when her love had always been so fervent, unbeknownst to Elphaba. And not only that day of Elphaba's supposed death either.

The throne room scene replayed itself in Elphaba's head as it so often did. Fiyero storming in, spearheading a group of guards, Glinda running in on the kerfuffle, completely oblivious at first. Then her old classmate had insisted on accompanying her on her flight from the palace, insinuating that he—that they…

She drew a shuddering breath, closing her eyes against the image of a lovelorn Fiyero. Dear, foolish man.

Yes, as young girl, she'd secretly admired him for his handsome looks and all the more for the way he'd treated her. He'd almost made her feel as if he liked her standoffish character and found her every bit as eligible as charming, beautiful Glinda was, despite her evident flaws. Yes, she also had fantasised about what it might be like to be coveted by someone—a boy, she'd assumed, knowing no better then—maybe even him. But in the end, he'd always been a friend, nothing more. She'd never stop blaming herself for permitting him to follow her out of the Emerald City, pretending for a fleeting moment that maybe there could be more between them.

Maybe her naïve, clandestine yearnings had somehow materialised to jinx him, for she knew as well as Glinda that he had, in fact, fallen in love with her somewhere along the way. He'd made it his life's purpose to find her, and once he had, he'd been so ridiculously desperate to stay by her side, come what may. She should never have allowed it, but her loneliness and craving for company had gotten the better of her.

The situation hadn't helped. She hadn't had a clue how else to keep them both safe, though as it had turned out, Fiyero had been anything but safe with her. Ozdammit, all jokes about his brainlessness aside, she'd thought him smarter than jumping straight into danger whenever it seemed like she could be in some sort of trouble.

What would have happened if she'd rejected him and instead posed her invitation to Glinda for a second time? Would she have said yes? Would she have fared better than Fiyero? Would they have been happy on the run together, braving adversity as a team?

Elphaba scoffed at her own musings. To hell with 'what ifs'! She hadn't, and she knew that she never would have, not in a million years. If given the same conundrums over and over and over again, she would be quite certain to make the same choices each and every time. Had they been mistakes? Most likely, though she couldn't be entirely sure without an opportunity to try the alternatives and see them play out. Maybe her choices, even when they hadn't worked out as well as she would have liked, had prevented worse from happening. Maybe preventing Fiyero from tagging along would have caused him to be incarcerated as a traitor, while Glinda may have ended up dying in some kind of peril along their dangerous path.

She set her jaw and ground her teeth. She was no seer by any means, and even the most adept oracles could only foresee a few variations of the possible truths. There were too many things she couldn't possibly know. Yet amidst all those things there was one truth she did know, one mistake she could identify with clairvoyant certainty.

Cloaked in the pitch-black of the darkest night, heart still pounding from the narrow escape, she'd been sure of not much else apart from the guiding light of his lantern, and the strength of his hand in hers. They'd stumbled through unknown territory, a wood she'd never wandered, but which Fiyero had known intimately, having combed it for days on end, knowingly following false claims of witch sightings there to distract the Wizard's Home Guard.

He'd guided her to a clearing where they could rest, then kissed her the first chance he got. Her breath caught in her throat, she'd drawn back and vehemently shaken her head.

"This can't be real," she'd said, utterly disbelieving, and he'd sworn his love to her.

Then, she'd stupidly dared him to prove it, so incredulous that she could barely fathom that he actually would.

He'd worshipped her with his mouth and his hands, and somehow, she'd been incapable of telling him no. She'd never expected to feel the way he'd made her feel, and she'd had no way of predicting if an opportunity like this would ever present itself again.

Before she knew it, she'd been trembling and gasping, distractedly blaming the adrenaline that pumped through her veins for her questionable decisions that evening.

When she'd found herself questioning what exactly made them questionable in the first place, first Glinda's scent, then her face came to her mind, and she startled, breath hitching. Fiyero was Glinda's fiancé.

No.

Well, yes, he was; but that wasn't all.

Glinda.

Oh, sweet Glinda.

How rotten was she for thinking of the petite blonde in this very moment, wishing her and Fiyero's places could be reversed?

Terribly rotten, she concluded, especially since she seriously doubted that Glinda would appreciate being thought of by her in such a way.

Always vigilant, always caring, Fiyero had caught on to her discomfort and paused. Cupping her cheek so tenderly, he'd gazed into her eyes with all the gentleness he had to offer. Perhaps, the stray tear had given her away, or the odd shudder that had run down her spine.

"What? What is it?"

Elphaba had averted her gaze and bit her lips, unsure what to tell the man who'd seemed so committed to her, whom she'd personally challenged to evince his love for her.

"Nothing," she'd told him, her voice thick, and she'd planned to leave it at that. But then her thoughts of Glinda had hit her hard again, crushing her with guilt. The infamous witch's lips had trembled slightly when she'd admitted, "It's just… for the first time… I feel wicked."

She didn't blame him for misunderstanding, for doubling down to convince her that she was the greatest prize he could ever have dreamed of. She did, however, blame herself for melting into him at his staunch devotion, for the child that would be born several months later, due to her inability to decline, merely because someone she'd once admired had been stupid enough to fall in love with her.

Heaving a shuddering breath, chest aching, Elphaba forced those memories away from the forefront of her mind to peer down at Glinda.

Her Glinda, her one, true love. She couldn't take back what she'd done in the past, but maybe she could make up for at least some of it. She would be the devoted one now, devoted and faithful and fiercely loyal to the sweet, sweet girl in her arms. She would protect her with all she had, and she would love her, love her better than she could possibly love anyone or anything else in the entire world. Always.

AN:

Hooray, you made it!
...
Or maybe you just got bored and skipped down to the end of the page, checking out what else I might have to say... XD

ANYWAYS...
Thank you so much for reading this story! This concludes 'The Storm.' Hope you had fun. I know I did, though this turned out a lot longer and harder than I'd planned.

As far as my future plans are concerned... I'll try and keep it a little bit of a low profile for a while, but without going away completely. I do have other stuff to do and hope that I'll finally get on with that, so here goes nothing...

Thank you, as always, for your readership, your support, and your comments! Take care for now, and see you around!

xoxo MLE

(=^_^=)