Disclaimer: I don't own even a little bit of anything. I wish I owned Glinda and Fiyero, but, sadly, I do not. I suppose maybe, eventually, I will, in my wildest dreams, Though, I am the proud owner of a fervent wish to end up in Oz. Bahh, never will happen, I'll live writing about it. Well, here's a change from the normal, a sad angsty ficcy involving Glinda. A very large change from the normal for me. Well, this is a one-shot, very short but sweet, I hope.
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Glinda, the good witch of Oz.
The portrait of a human being, the pink perfection, or so everyone in the Emerald city thought.
At the moment, Glinda didn't think so highly of herself. Elphaba, or so dearest Glinda thought, was gone. Currently, the practical goddess of Oz sat on the windowsill, in a large pink dress, her knees tucked against her chest, her chin resting on them. The rain fell in Oz, a rare occurrence, slowly dropping in a clear cascade from the gray sky.
Blue eyes scanned the bleak skies, as if waiting for something, hoping.
Always the hopeful one, that was dear Glinda.
The tall buildings of the Emerald city, all colored as their namesake indicated, glinted with the newly fallen raindrops. Glinda was residing in the Emerald city currently, just as she said she would. It seemed so long ago, the incident with the wizard, Elphie's leaving, and that was the worst incident.
Since then, Glinda wasn't quite, well, Glinda anymore. The unnamed god knows she had changed, she was less vane, less cheery, unfortunately, but she always had that same unchanging air about her, that certain sort of feeling that no matter what happened she was always same old Glinda.
The raindrops pattered on the large balcony as the lady Glinda sat on the windowsill, hoping for things that would probably never happened.
Fiyero, gone, Elphaba, gone, Boq, tin, Nessa, six feet under in the cold ground somewhere. As time went by, things slowly fell apart, until all that was left were broken fragments of 'what if' and 'if I hadn't'.
But, what use is dwelling on the past, it only makes you upset.
The pleasant scent of flowers wafted through the bright room, the familiar smell of Glinda.
The blue eyes of the familiar blonde were filled with sadness, tears threatening to flow. Sadness, not a native emotion to the lovely good witch.
Glinda leaned back rather difficultly, due to her rather large dress in the way, and sighed, wistfully staring out at the sky.
'Dreary morning, dreary afternoon, and an even drearier night' Glinda thought exhaustedly.
Though it was hard to tell through the thick clouds, it must have been a bit late in the evening. The servants had gotten used to it; she would stare out the window at ridiculous hours, waiting for something that would probably never come.
No blue skies twinkling today, no bright stars, just rain, long, depressing rain.
And how very much Glinda did hate it. No more perky, happy, bright Glinda, the old one had been replaced with a heartbroken shell of her former self.
Sure, for the people of Oz, the unwitting civilians, she put on a smile, a sort of facade, an act.
Kind little Glinda, always the sweet, brave one. She always refused to be sad, always pretended to be happy. That is the burden of being 'the good witch of Oz'.The title made her feel even worse, her ill gotten title. Most of her life now, was a scam, a tremendous hoax. A play of sorts, and Glinda was the main actress.
When had everything become so….well, complicated?
Glinda pulled her knees tighter to her chest and stared out at the practically torrential rains. Her hair fell over her shoulders in gentle, springing, elegant curls and her pink dress gave her a sort of graceful luminescence. A trait you would expect from the lovely Glinda.
A servant walked past the room, offered a quick glance in, then walked off, as not to seem rude.
But Glinda still stared at the skies, wishfully thinking and dreaming, hoping for time to magically rewind itself.
Once the threads of fate have been woven, there is no undoing them, that is how it is. And the threads of fate were done and over with, lest there was more to come, but for Glinda, all had come to a screeching halt. She had all the glamour, the glitz, everything, but what was it all without her best friend?
Glinda yawned, manners forgotten for a moment in time, and her blue eyes drifted slowly closed, out of exhaustion and not the best amount of sleep. The rain on the window was like a soothing lullaby. She tried to stay awake and succeeded, for a few moments, before she drifted off into a state of slumber, tired, memory filled sleep.
Her dreams were worst of all, at least in actuality, she could deny everything that happened, but dreams could force her to come to terms with what was true, cold, hard reality. She wasn't quite sure whether or not she deserved to be miserable; she had done just about an equal number of bad things and an equal number of good things.
As strange as it was, for once, she was allowed rest, dreamless sleep. The worst thing that Glinda couldn't live with were her dreams, ethereal tortures that forced you to remember, her days at Shiz, her day with Elphie in the Emerald City, the day their lives changed forever at their meeting with the wizard, their arguments, that final conversation before Elphaba's demise, all horrid parts of her dreams. Their days of youth, giddy ridiculous youth, Fiyero's handsome face, Boq's sweet remarks about how pretty she was, Elphie's clever yet sarcastic wit, all of it seemed as though it were yesterday.
In the mean time, while sweet Glinda slept, a figure made its' way through the rain, swathed tightly in black so as none of her got wet at all. The figure, unnoticed because of the late hour, touched down on a large balcony and drew the broom to her side, covered so much that she seemed as if a ball of black material.
The figure rather hastily drew open the doors to the house and stepped inside carefully. It interestedly casts an eye to Glinda, looking her up and down. Just as she remembered, pink dress, blonde curls and tiny frame as usual.
She dove a hand into an inner pocket of her cloaks and drew forth an envelope. She quietly placed the envelope on the table and padded back out to the balcony, nervously surveying the rain. The blonde stirred for a moment and Elphaba cast one last longing glance at her oldest and dearest friend. She felt a burning tear roll down her cheek, but she ignored it. She didn't cry often, but the situation was a bit too much, so she supposed it wouldn't be too bad to allow herself to do so for a moment.
Elphie gathered up her skirts and snatched the broom from its' place on the balcony. She knew how stupid it was to go out in the rain, but the guilt was bothering her, and with a curse, directed at her conscience, she took off into the sky again, a disappearing speck in the grey mass of chaos.
A few hours later, Glinda opened one blue eye, thankful for her dreamless nap. She wondered if she had truly gone mad, if perhaps her sadness had truly driven her to the edge of insanity and beyond. During her little rest, she thought she had heard the heavy steps of familiar feet. She noticed a few wet footprints on the carpet, and quickly came to the conclusion that she had truly gone mad, and that the wind had blown open the doors, allowing the rain in. No, none of it made sense.
She crept over to the table, and noticed a curious object. A letter, was that there before?
Glinda, with a rather shaky hand, reached for the letter and carefully opened it, wondering if she had truly awakened or if this was another cruel torment of her nightmares.
And on the letter, in prim handwriting, was simply written…..
'I do believe I have been changed for the better, and because I knew you, I have been changed for good'
A sign, perhaps, or a joke, or a good deed done by someone to ease her nerves. A smile made its' way onto her face and a few tears fell from her pale blue eyes, falling on the words on the scrap of paper, blurring the midnight ink.
"Ohh Elphie" she cried, voice shaking.
Finally, something to set her mind at ease. The wet footprints, the letter, it was all real! Not a figment of her vivid imagination, but tangible, existent things.
But, this must mean she's not dead…… and if so, thank goodness.
Glinda felt a curious mixture of anger and ecstasy. Two opposite emotions, anger because she believed Elphie was dead, only to find out she wasn't, and ecstasy because….well, because her best friend and companion wasn't dead!
Glinda, still crying softly and disbelievingly reading the sentence on the letter over and over, tried to reason with her mind. A joke…or was it real? No, it must have been real; no one else would know those words.
And for now, Glinda, not the good witch, but just plain old Glinda, was content to believe her best friend was alive and alright.
And how lovely it was, after all of that, to find the light in the dark.
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It ends…..well, review, I hope ya liked it! A little one-shot I had the strangest urge to write. I don't know, but I feel bad for Glinda –sniffle- she should be happy! Alrightey, I hope ya enjoyed it!
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