Chapter 3
Galinda- well, Glinda now- searched daily for any new mark on her skin; hopeful that today would be the day. It never was, no matter how much she stared into Fiyero's eyes.
Likewise, she never asked after Fiyero's mark. Never asked if he knew what it was, when it had appeared… who it had appeared for. She was sure that he must know some, if not all, of the answers. After all, why else would he have become so distant and moodified in the days after she'd first noticed it? But sometimes in the early hours of the morning, Glinda would wake to an empty bed, and she'd find Fiyero sitting in an armchair by the living room window and distantly tracing the mark with his fingers as he looked over the darkened Emerald City. And Glinda knew that he was thinking of them. Whoever this person was. Whoever it was whose skin now bore a mark just like his somewhere on their body, while Glinda's remained perfectly unblemished.
She endured it all for two years. The distance, the ever-deafening silences even in the most crowded rooms, the sleepless nights, the wondering. Until she could take it no longer.
"If you don't get the mark, is there anything preventing your plan where you get married and live happily ever after?" Elphaba had once asked her.
The answer then had been no. The answer now, Glinda decided one night as she stood in the shadows of the hall and watched Fiyero study his wrist, was still no.
Glinda deserved a happy ending, she knew she did. She was going to get it, and she was tired of waiting for it.
So, there was a plan.
"Your marriage will be as inspirational to Ozians as your love story has been!" Madame Morrible proclaimed grandly from atop the dais, just days later.
The crowd cheered, and Glinda beamed, clutching Fiyero's elbow as she admired the way the sun danced off the glittering diamond that adorned her finger. Fiyero stared at the ring too, almost in a trance.
"A perfectly matched pair in every way," Morrible continued. "And blessed by Brunhilla herself."
Fiyero stiffened beside Glinda as the crowd broke into murmurs, some with reverence and some of vague interest. Glinda forced herself to keep beaming, tightening her grip on Fiyero's arm.
"Yes. Our very own Glinda the Good, and our Captain of the Guard have been bestowed with Brunhilla's mark!"
Fiyero's head whipped to Glinda, and she felt her cheeks flame as she pointedly averted her gaze.
"Glinda, would you care to say something, dearie?" Morrible asked her, faux sweetness dripping from her tongue.
Glinda's stomach churned, but she smiled at Madame Morrible graciously as she stepped towards the microphone.
"Thank you, all," she said brightly, looking over the crowd of bright and happy faces as they looked back at her in admiration.
"Fiyero and I simply couldn't be happier, right dear?" she asked, turning to look at her fiancé, and fluttering her eyelashes at him sweetly.
Fiyero gave rather more a grimace than a smile and said nothing, but Glinda pushed on.
"To be here today, it's simply wonderful," she gushed. "It's like something out of a fairytale, and we couldn't be more thrillified."
It didn't take long for Morrible to sweep back in and steer the conversation to the threat of the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda fought to keep her smile steady and her posture unflinchingly straight; while Fiyero's arm grew all the more tense beneath her hand and the crowd spouted their favourite, increasingly ludicrous rumours about Elphaba.
Morrible and the Wizard's propaganda efforts had clearly been money well spent.
"I hear that she's so evil, water will melt her!" Glinda heard someone say in a positively gleeful tone that made her feel sick to her stomach; and then Fiyero was gone, storming off stage and leaving Glinda to make hasty apologies to Morrible and the crowd before hurrying after him.
"I can't believe this," Fiyero spat as Glinda subtly ushered him into a more private spot where they couldn't be overheard.
"I know, dearest, I know," Glinda soothed him, looking over her shoulder. "It's awful what they're saying about her-"
"Then why don't we do something about it?" Fiyero demanded. "Tell the truth?"
Glinda laughed nervously. "Darling, please. Be reasonable."
"Be reasonable?!" Fiyero hissed, stepping closer to her.
He paused, studied her face carefully. "You don't have the mark, do you?"
Glinda blinked, inhaling sharply. "What?"
"The mark, Glinda. Brunhilla's mark," Fiyero replied impatiently. "The one Morrible just told everyone that we have."
Glinda faltered, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, that's just an old wives tale," she lied, her hands fluttering around. "Most people out there probably don't even know what it is, let alone believe in it. It's all just Morrible trying to boost morale. You know much people love a good love story, dearest."
Fiyero met her gaze steadily, unbuttoning and removing his jacket and the unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal the mark on his wrist.
Glinda looked away before she could help herself. She'd seen it before naturally, it wasn't a spot that was easy to hide from someone when you lived together as often as they did. But this was the first time in the two years since she'd first noticed its appearance that he'd ever purposely revealed it to her.
"Do you have it?"
Tears pricked at Glinda's eyes and she blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. It wouldn't do at all to have to go back with her makeup smeared and eyes red.
"No," she whispered, drawing her shoulders back as she lifted her eyes to Fiyero's. "I don't. But you know that, don't you? Otherwise you would have told me years ago. It would be different. We wouldn't be like… like this."
Fiyero held her gaze as he slowly fixed his shirt and put his jacket back on.
"Who is it?" Glinda asked, the question that had been on her lips for two years. "If it's not me, who is it?"
Fiyero's fingers stilled on his jacket buttons for a breath.
"I don't know," he said.
Glinda had heard him lie enough in the past two years that she could hear it in his voice. He knew exactly who it was. But if that were the case, and he knew it wasn't Glinda, why was he here? Why had he stayed? A name drifted into Glinda's mind as though whispered on the wind, but Glinda shook her head firmly, dispelling the suspicion before it could take root. No, it couldn't be. That was ludicrous. Wasn't it?
A lump rose in Glinda's throat and she nodded. "Alright."
Because what was another lie between them at this point?
Fiyero finished buttoning his jacket in silence.
"If it'll make you happy," he said quietly. "I'll marry you."
Glinda closed her eyes, turning her head away from him. She felt Fiyero move closer, and his lips brushed her cheek before he moved away again. Glinda opened her eyes again just in time to see him walk away, away from the dais and the crowd.
Glinda turned in the opposite direction and stepped forward, watching with an odd sense of satisfaction as the nearest members of the crowd, peering between Fiyero's retreating figure and Glinda as she came into view hastily looked away as they met her gaze. Then she straightened her shoulders and fixed a smile on her face, gracefully weaving her way back towards the dais where Morrible and the public awaited her. There was an engagement to festivate, spirits to raise and a ball to prepare for.
That was what mattered right now.
AN. Next chapter will be up either Sunday night or Monday morning (Australia time).
