Chapter 3
Glinda remains staring down the hallway after Fiyero and Elphaba for a moment longer, breathing in deeply, shakily. Her lungs hurt a little from fighting to hold back the tremors of a silent sob. She waits for calm to wash over her just long enough to gain control and kick feeling to the back of her mind. She can't afford to focus on such trivial things as emotions just now.
"Here. Take a swig of this. It dulls the pain."
She turns around. The Wizard is sitting on the front little platform of his gold head, holding out to her a green flask filled with some sort of liquid. Glinda thinks she's seen something of the like before, but she can't place where she recognizes the thing from; must've been years ago. Nevertheless, she knows enough to be suspicious of it.
"No, thank you." she says, voice carefully flat. There is a sound of heels on marble again, and shortly Madam Morrible, the Wizard's new press secretary and former headmistress of Shiz University, an older woman with gaudy and eccentric taste in clothing, sweeps her way into the chamber, laughing, through the opposite hall across from where the fugitives had fled. The sound, hyena-esque, is perversely jovial. Glinda knows at whose expense the laughter has been paid. And she's not even sure she cares anymore.
"So, is it true?" Morrible asks her, a wolfish, toothy smile splitting her face, "Your betrothed has taken her into custody?" Glinda says nothing, and stares at the woman through hard blue eyes.
"I'm afraid our new Captain of the Guard had other plans." The Wizard answers for her, getting to his feet, but leaving the bottle where he had been sitting. Morrible's face falls, molding itself into an incredulous angry countenance. He did not just tell her such a thing.
"You mean she hasn't been captured?"
"Quite the contrary. And considering how well she eluded us last time…"
The Wizard and his press secretary continue to bicker back and forth. Glinda pays them no attention. She feels the hurt seep into her muscles, making her chest ache, echoing through her in resonant beats. She wants to collapse into a heap of extravagant petticoats and hot tears, but yet she holds it bottled up in that petite body, letting it roil in her stomach like acid…
And it eats away at her, like acid. Her breathing speeds some, becomes heavier. She doesn't think she can hold any love in her heart for Fiyero and Elphaba anymore. She hates them. She hates them both for leaving her with nothing but a sea of nameless faces, the people of a country she cares very little for. She only needs that sea to slake her thirst for attention - Oz has no other purpose for her.
The only thing she asked of Fiyero was that he try to love her. Was that too hard for his stunted brain to comprehend? And Elphaba, where did she get off leaving the Palace with him? Did Glinda's taking pity on her and giving her a chance mean nothing? Why, if it hadn't been for Glinda, Elphaba would still be some hopelessly friendless student trying to muddle her way through school on smarts alone. Ha, like that would've gotten the green girl anywhere. Her thoughts race by, yet she's not really registering any of them. It takes a small eternity for the inundation of hate to slow, and as her breathing begins to slow back to normal her hatred begins to burn off.
:How could they…: she thinks hollowly; her thoughts slow down from a feverish rush to a river flooded by unshed tears. Somewhere pushed away inside her she truly doesn't want to believe what she'd been telling herself about her friends, but she is a public figure, and, like many things in the lives of politicians, the smallest bit of sentiment for Fiyero and Elphaba had to be ignored for the time being. The Wizard would be counting on her to help him and his people find the Witch. Glinda could hardly refuse them information, lest the Wizard see fit to kick that "Good Witch" pedestal out from under her feet and watch her fall, to shatter like glass upon the City's green paving stones.
Glinda seethes a little longer, or tries to seethe, watching the Wizard and his second squabble over what would be the best way to get hold of Elphaba. The hurt tightening her chest feels worse and runs deeper than the rage she'd felt before, an it motivates her more to get revenge on the two escapees. She shouldn't have to feel that sort of pain. She hasn't done anything wrong.
She hesitates a moment, wanting to cut into the Wizard's and Morrible's conversation and tell them how to bag their witch. It would be a fitting revenge on the green turncoat and her new lover, and would ensure Glinda's station in the Wizard's regime at the same time.
But…this is Elphaba…Glinda couldn't turn her in…
Yes, 'but'. 'But' forget it. It's either protect someone not worth protecting, or look out for her own skin; and when you're dealing with a man like the Wizard, her own skin is enough to look after. The choice is clear…isn't it?
"Her sister."
Morrible and the Wizard turn their heads to look at her; they hadn't been expecting Glinda to interrupt. To tell the truth, they'd completely forgotten she was still in the room.
"What?" Morrible asks.
Glinda steps forward, the hurt coiled in her body helping to build up her courage and resolve. "Use her sister. Spread a rumor. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she'll fly to her side…" She pauses, uneasy. But she can't stop now. They would notice her hesitation to disclose what she knows, and they might suspect she's giving them false information. The Wizard could have her life if they assume she's turned traitor. She swallows, and wipes her face clear of the sudden pang of regret. She's fairly sure it won't last long.
"…And you'll have her."
A sly smile spreads it's way over Madam Morrible's face, her eyes slightly narrowed, and she folds her arms, glances to the Wizard. The man grins wolfishly, pleased with her answer.
"Exactly so." he says.
"Now, if Your Ozness will excuse me I have a slight headache. I think I'll lie down." Glinda lies easily, her voice flat and unreadable. You have to be able to speak in such a way when you're life's become so public. At that point she'd have done anything to get her out of that chamber, away from those sadistic smiles. They're so pleased at the prospect of catching and killing a woman they know is innocent; it makes her slightly sick to her stomach, no matter how much she hates the woman they want to dispose of. In a whirl of blue skirts and blonde curls, she turns on her heel and walks as calmly as she can out of the room.
She makes her way back outside, where her guests are no doubt waiting for her. Forcing a false smile onto her face, Glinda pushes the door open and is met with a wave of people, bombarding her with questions; "Where'd you go/What's happening/This is a lovely soiree, isn't it/Where is your fiancé?…" And on and on and on. She hears very little of it, but speaks to them all as if nothing is wrong. All the while she tries to convince herself that she is in the right, that she's done the right thing by turning in the back-stabbers…hasn't she?
Well, in any case, she can't really afford to think on that now. Her people are expecting a party, and she has to put on a brave face...even if it is more so for herself than for them. But as the ball drags on, she keeps trying to convince herself that helping the Wizard bag his witch will, in the end, do nothing horribly wrong. Elphaba had betrayed her, anyway, so, what did Glinda have to care about? She had done nothing but secure her place in his court, and that, certainly, was a noble and valuable thing to pursue. More valuable than the life of a wanted criminal, at any rate.
:How can you say that: some tiny voice in the back of her mind screeches. She ignores it. Elphaba's dead to her.
Madam Morrible watches Glinda leave; the second the blonde's back turns away the smile leaves the older woman's face. Once Glinda is certain to be out of earshot, she turns back to the Wizard.
"Yes, well, she may have given us half of our answer, but a rumor alone won't do it. Elphaba's too smart for that. She could see through it too easily."
"She's far too smart, no thanks to you."
Morrible flashes the evil eye at the Wizard. "You could actually put your mind to this problem for once, couldn't you? That green witch-girl is more your problem now than she is mine, you know."
"I didn't take you up as a partner for you to tell me what to do with myself. You're the scheming one, Morrible, you figure it out."
"Lazy son of a…" the woman mutters under her breath, looking at the Wizard as if he were something distasteful on the bottom of her eccentrically decorated shoe. The man shoots her a glare but makes no move to shut her up. He just renews his interest in that little green bottle of his, and takes another swallow of whatever's in it. She looks out the window at the first hint of sunset coming up in a slim rosy stripe hugging the horizon, staring blankly at it, her mind working furiously. A wisp of cloud drifts lazily through the sky, it's edge just skimming the bottom of a sun that's still relatively high for mid afternoon. And it hits her. It isn't another three seconds before that old sly smile is back again, this time, with more teeth.
"Perhaps, a change in the weather…"
"What?" the Wizard asks skeptically. "That'll take at least two weeks to build up into something powerful enough to do anything for us! By then the two of them could be out of Oz for good!"
"Oh, but you forget, sir, that weather magic is my specialty. It'll have them back in our hands before the week is out." Her smile and the rabid satisfaction in her eyes intensifies, and with the first wave of her hand, distant thunder rumbles somewhere far off; but just how far off, they have yet to learn.
A/N: Eeeewww I know it's short...I'm sorry! I've got the next chapter in progress already. This one's coming so much easier than that damn chapter 44 of NAG... :sigh: Anyway, rr please, and I'll love you forever!
-Linz-