Wynne hated the cold. In her native Emerald City it never stuck around long. Even Gillikin was not too bad with thick buildings made to keep warm. Kiamo Ko, on the other hand, was not made to keep out the cold of even the Vinkus' mild, wet winters. Her options were to either bundle up in a room by a fire, or find other ways to stay warm. To stave off boredom, she found other ways.

Wynne panted in exertion. Kiamo Ko was a big place and one could always find unused corners of it for certain activities. One did not need a soft surface or manicured space. They simply had to know where and when to be. A door opened and Sarima's familiar form came into view. The woman gasped as she caught sight of Wynne and took a step back. Wynne shifted to the left.

"Sorry, Sarima!" Wynne called over her shoulder as she ran past. The Vinkun woman shook her head and smiled.

Wynne was determined to maintain her fitness over the winter. The long halls and staircases of Kiamo Ko provided ways to train her endurance. It also helped her familiarize herself with the castle. That is how she found an unused feast hall she ended her run at. After resolving to ask forgiveness rather than permission, Wynne converted it into a training room. The table and chairs had been pushed to the side to make room for sparring. Buckets filled with stone were set against the wall, replacing the iron weights she used in Gillikin. Near them was a post shaped like a man and wrapped in carpet for her to practice strikes.

Wynne wiped the sweat from her brow. Making her way over to the fireplace, she tried to get one started with the tinder. Unfortunately starting fires had never been her strength. She grumbled and wiped more sweat from her head. It was a race to get it started before she got cold. A quiet word behind her set the tinder ablaze, causing her to jump back. Turning, she saw Sarima with a slight smile.

"Thanks," Wynne nodded.

"You're welcome," she replied, looking around. "I see you've made it your own."

"I can't go outside anymore and I need to keep my edge."

"Sensible. I assume your sparring with warriors has tapered off?"

"Mostly," Wynne grabbed a nearby towel and wiped her face and neck. "The courtyards are too slick for safe footing. I've managed to get a couple to come here, but most of them want me to come to them."

"I'm sure it's pride more than a reflection of your skill."

"Oh, definitely," Wynne answered as she started stretching. "Outside of a few, they still look down on a woman fighting."

"That sounds right."

"It doesn't bother me," Wynne shrugged. "They're not helping themselves get better. Those that do spar me know I can match them with short and long sticks. Staff and spear I've never trained with so that has been fun to learn."

"How about unarmed?"

Wynne laughed.

"That's a line none will cross. At least with sticks they have little contact with me. Striking and grappling would offend their warrior's honor." Wynne's tone left no doubt about what she thought of that. "But the few of the Dogs here do. They all help fill my dance card, so to speak."

Sarima smiled at the woman's relentless energy.

"Perhaps it would be good if I learned some weapon skills."

"Why? You've got magic," Wynne asked as she went to pick up a stick.

"I can't rely on it all the time," Sarima replied. "Look at what happened with Glinda."

"Amateur warriors end up dead warriors," Wynne answered as she went through her motions. "It takes a lot of time and dedication to be good enough to stand a chance in a fight. And that would all take away from your time learning magic."

"I'll have to trust your judgment on that," Sarima sighed.

"If you're worried about it, just carry a pistol."

"A pistol is quite hard to conceal."

"Good point. And keeping the powder dry is a pain." Wynne paused. "Thinking about it now, I think you witches come at it the wrong way."

"How so?"

"You over rely on having your wand on you and being able to cast spells quickly. I know you can cast wandless, like Glinda and Elphaba, but from what I've seen it's a lot harder."

"That's true."

"If it were me, I'd have little magical items that could help out."

"Powerful magical items are quite difficult to make, from my understanding."

"I didn't say they had to be powerful; they just have to be useful," Wynne answered. Having finished her form, she went over to the padded pole and started practicing strikes.

"What are you thinking?"

"So when Glinda was captured, they snuck up on her and placed those magic handcuffs on her, right? What if she had some small glass bauble she could smash against the floor that let out a blinding light. Now everyone around her is stunned for a second and she could dash away. Or instead of light, it throws up a lot of smoke so it's hard to see."

"It would only give you a few moments at best."

"And that's all you need." Wynne's strikes picked up speed. "If Glinda had a few more moments she could have gotten to us and maybe gotten away."

"I can still it still bothers you," Sarima said softly. Wynne struck the pole several times before answering.

"I failed to protect her. That's my job. And when I go back over how I failed it always hits the same point. I over relied on Glinda being able to cast magic. I knew we could respond to any ambush quickly enough to let her start casting, and at that point it's just making sure she doesn't get hurt while she takes out whoever is attacking us. I never thought she would get cut off."

"How could you? Those cuffs are something almost no one knew about."

"But see, that's my point," Wynne growled. Her blows were coming faster, rocking the pole on its base. "I didn't need to know about them. There's a dozen ways Glinda could be cut off from casting. She could be tired, or fighting another sorcerer, or taking care of someone else, or even incapacitated. Hell, if we got jumped by multiple sorcerers how would I be able to help?"

Sarima walked across the room and laid a hand on Wynne's shoulder. The other woman tensed for a moment before letting out a deep sigh and lowering her stick.. Finally, she looked at Sarima.

"Wynne, even if you thought of that ahead of time, would it have changed the outcome?"

"I don't know. But a few seconds of time would have helped. The other Dogs would have been able to fight back more. Give me a few seconds and I can kill twice that many people."

"Had you all killed twice as many more, would you have been able to turn the tide?"

"Maybe." Wynne looked away.

"Truly?"

Wynne hung her head, letting out a deep sigh.

"No. I like to think so, but there were so many. I just feel I should have been able to do more."

"You did the best you could," Sarima replied. "You got away and got help. Killing more soldiers and dying would have doomed Glinda."

"Right, but why me?" Wynne looked at Sarima. "Why did Ronce choose me and not any of the others?"

"Ah."

"Did he think I wasn't up to fighting and dying with them? Or that I was not as good as the rest?"

"Or," Sarima answered, coming to stand in front of the other woman, "he knew you were the closest to Glinda. He knew you had the familiarity of Glinda's associates. Would anyone else have gotten a witch to help?"

"I ran and left them there to die, Sarima."

"You followed your orders and made their sacrifice mean something. By getting to Pfannee you were able to get a message to Elphaba, and ultimately Duran. Even if not, you would have helped assemble a group of shamans and fighters that would have freed her. Something the others could not."

"I know what you're saying is right but it doesn't feel like it."

"We often feel guilty when we are spared from harm; especially when those killed are close to us. It's natural. Just don't lose sight that you did not do anything wrong."

"You're right." Wynne sighed again. "How'd you become so smart?"

"I was raised to be. In Garamana culture the women leaders are not only in charge of the women's work, but also act as spiritual healers."

"It certainly took with you."

"Thank you." Sarima smiled, placing both hands on Wynne's shoulders. "I'm happy to be of service. Do you wish to be alone, or do you want to take lunch with me?"

"I think I need some time to myself. Need to finish my drills, if nothing else."

"As you wish." Sarima stepped back. "If you ever need to talk, please do not feel ashamed. Seek me out."

"I will."

Sarima left Wynne to her work. Making her way to the main dining hall, she passed the fully covered form of Elphaba. The woman was covered head to toe in cloth with only her eyes visible. Since here return, she had not been seen without with her veils. The pair nodded to each other respectively. Sarima inwardly sighed at another troubled person in the castle.

"Such a look of concentration. What troubles the Shaman of the Garamana?" A rich voice in the Vinkun trade language pulled her from her musings.

"Crown Prince," she dipped her head to Fiyero. Deep in thought, she had missed him standing in front of her. "How may I be of service today?"

"There's no need to be so formal."

"You did address me by my title, Prince."

"Because it is one that is well deserved and should be proud of."

"Likewise."

Fiyero smiled his charming smile. Sarima was not embarrassed to admit to herself that she was a little bit charmed. With a slight shake of his head that made his dark locks sway, he turned in the direction Sarima was headed.

"Shall we walk? Perhaps you can tell me what weighs so heavy on your mind."

"Of course." Sarima smiled and took a step to his side. Fiyero easily matched her pace. Sarima did not speak for a while. Fiyero let her gather her thoughts in peace. Finally, she said,

"I had once dreamed of being in the presence of great companions. The kind stories are sung about. And now here I am in a swirl of them, each writing their own songs for the ages."

"And yet?"

"And yet I am struck by how familiar they all are. When the songs ring out they tell of vision, passion, surety. But here, in perhaps the greatest stories poets may write, I find the same things of us all. It is both humbling and terrifying."

"Poets often omit those which would diminish the stories. They are meant to inspire us."

"And that is part of it. Does the omission of doubt in a noble Queen's mind make her achievements less, or greater? Does the fear of loss in the Dragon's heart make her victories hollow? Does the guilt of a Warrior in survival make her adventures any less thrilling?" Sarima paused for a moment, casting a subtle glance in his direction. "Does the heartbreak of a Prince blemish his rise?"

"You have a point," Fiyero conceded, not reacting to her last comment. "If our heroes are seen as normal instead of ordained, would it inspire our people more? Would the story of a Princess yearning to be free be better if we only told how she soared and not how she was caged for so long?"

"Exactly so," Sarima agreed a little too quickly. Fiyero looked at her but she stared straight ahead.

"Of that I don't know as I am not a poet," he answered. "But tell me of this fiery Warrior."

"She is distraught over letting her ward be captured, and being sent away to gather allies rather than die with her brethren, blades drawn against the enemy."

"Even though without her actions her ward would have been lost?"

"Yes," Sarima nodded. "Her mind knows but her heart hurts. I offered what succor I could but it is something only time will fully heal."

"She is lucky to have such a wise friend in you, then."

Sarima shrugged.

"I am a Garamana princess. It is our role to be spiritual healers as well leaders."

"Truly? I did not know."

"The ways of even our kinsmen are often unknown to even each other."

"Whatever tribe you choose to call your own will be lucky to have such a wise leader."

"Thank you, Crown Prince," Sarima dipped her head. "I must tend to Lady Glinda. Good day."

"Good day," Fiyero answered. He watched her walk away with a slight smile. The direction that she heading was away from Glinda's room and the rose on her cheeks was not due to the cold.

X

Glinda entered the west tower to see fully covered Elphaba hovering over several spell books. It had taken only a few days for Glinda to rid Elphaba of the third eye, scaled skin, and hair quills. However, over the rest of the month, their attempts at unraveling the water allergy curse had not been successful. Perhaps it had something to do with how long the lie had been out in the world that made it so potent. Or perhaps there was something more fundamental at work. Either way, Elphaba's life had consisted of avoiding water. Difficult considering the wet winter of the Vinkus.

"Elphie?"

The cowled head of the woman popped up.

"Ah, Glinda. I didn't hear you come in."

"You sent a note for me to come."

"I did." The woman paused. Only her dark eyes and the hint of green skin was visible. She glanced over to a chair. "Here, sit. It might be awhile."

"Thanks," Glinda replied as she made her way over to the seat. "So you said you're almost ready to remove the water curse?"

"Yes!" Elphaba turned back to her notes and picked up a piece of paper. "So after studying it a bit, it appears that the curse made my skin...more fire based? Not actually fire based, mind you, but magically the components seem to have more hints similar to fire magic than others."

"Okay."

"Metamagically speaking, what that means is that water, its opposite, douses the fire. Which is why water burns," she crooked her fingers in air quotes, "when it hit my skin. It's causing my skin to literally melt apart. Sort of."

"That sounds painful."

"Very." the hood bobbed. "But the problem was I couldn't just remove it. The spell seemed stuck on me. That's when I realized it wasn't a constant spell. It changed me and what we were seeing was the residual. Like Fiyero or Boq."

"So you need to change your skin again?"

"Yes. I need to add more earth," the air quotes again, "to my skin to make it so it doesn't melt."

"And how would you know what to add and not come off as some rock monster?"

"Ah! Because we already did it once." Elphaba picked up another paper in a glvoed hand. "Boq and Fiyero, remember? So I based it off that. I wish Boq was easy to get to, as it was a more complete version, but I looked at Fiyero whenever he was around. Between the two, I'm fairly certain I know what I need to do."

"Fairly certain?"

"Ninety-five percent."

"And if it goes wrong?"

"Well… how bad can rock monster life be?" Elphaba replied, amusement in her voice. Glinda let out an unamused huff. "Really, that's why you'll be there. If it starts to go bad, you'll have to cast the same spell we did on Fiyero and Boq."

"To reconstitute a new body for you so you don't die horribly?"

"Exactly."

"How soon are we doing this?"

"I should be ready by tomorrow."

"Then I'll be ready tomorrow."

X

Glinda, Sarima, Wynne, and Fiyero watched as the cloaked and hooded form of Elphaba lit a candle in the courtyard. The Crown Prince had cleared the space for their use, barring anyone else from entering. Elphaba placed a basket of dirt down in a specific spot. Turning to her watchers, she said,

"Okay. With this ritual, we need the candle to represent flame and the dirt to represent earth. If all goes according to plan, the candle will absorb the cursed elements and the dirt will replace it with non-cursed elements."

"And if it doesn't work?" asked Sarima. "How will we counteract the ritual?"

"If it doesn't work, you can't counteract the ritual. That's what Glinda is here for. She will cast the same spell that we did on Fiyero to basically recreate my body."

"Hopefully it doesn't come to that." Fiyero grimaced. "It was not pleasant."

"I'm sure being naked in front of hundreds of people wasn't that bad," Glinda replied, hoping to ease the tension.

"Wait, naked?" Wynne asked. "How did he end up naked?"

"On the upside," Elphaba cut in, "if it does happen it's not like something none of you hasn't seen before."

"Point of order," Wynne said, raising a finger.

"Order overruled," Glinda rebutted, putting a hand on Wynne's finger and pushing it down.

"Bloody politicians," Wynne grumbled.

"Let's get this show on the road, then," Elphaba said, and threw off her cloak and cowl in one swoop.

"And people say I'm not the dramatic one," Glinda joked.

"Learned it from the best." Elphaba flashed her teeth.

Elphaba began her chant. Her smokey voice dropped low as her hands drew figures in the air. To the others, nothing seemed to be happening. Glinda with her witchsight saw the magic slowly gather to Elphaba and begin to swirl. Elphaba's tone rose, and the swirling magic looped further from her.

The others gasped. Glinda turned her witchsight down to see the candle flaring, growing brighter. She remembered her purpose and again revealed the magic to herself. One of the loops had caught the candle, drawing its represented element into the swirl that was around Elphaba. One more loop, and she connected with the basket.

Elphaba shivered as the two elements became part of the ritual. Her skin prickled, hair raising. The prickles turned into pinpricks and then cuts. She focused on her words, knowing a slip now would bring disaster. However, the pain began to radiate and spread, her whole body soon on fire.

The magic Elphaba was weaving became visible not just to Glinda. A warm golden light was being pulled towards the candle. Glinda knew that was part of the ritual to get rid of the extra 'fire' in Elphaba's skin. She turned to look at the bucket of dirt. Something should be happening there as well. If it didn't...but there. A darker hue of magic rising towards the woman to envelope her.

The balm of the 'earth' magic came right in time for Elphaba. It soothed the pain, like slipping into a cool pond with a sunburn. Elphaba continued her chant, pulling away fire in equal to earth. Only after she felt the last ray of warmth leave her skin did she stop. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her arm. It seemed fine.

"Glinda?" she asked.

"Not a rock monster." was her reply as she came over. Elphaba gave her a bemused look. Glinda summoned water into her hand and let it fall to the cobblestones. Holding the damp hand out to Elphaba, she said, "Well?"

Elphaba slid her hand over Glinda's. It was cool and wet, but nothing else. Nodding, she showed her hand to Glinda.

"Let's try a bit more," Elphaba said. Glinda repeated her spell, but this time kept the little bit of water in her hand. Delicately, she let some drip on Elphaba's hand. When the woman did not react, she let more until her hand was empty.

"Seems like it was a success," Glinda said.

"Seems so," Elphaba replied, smiling.

"Good. Now let's find out who cursed you. I'd like to have a word with them."