Title: Dead End

Author: Aerohead

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Fiyero/Elphaba, Fiyero/Glinda, Glinda/OC

Rating: T

Disclaimer/Dedication: For L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman who own this idea that I'm extending. Thank you for giving me the first part.

Warning: spoiler for the ending of the musical Wicked, but that's pretty much about it.

Genre: General, romance (book/play amalgamation)

Summary: AU (during One if By Land time-period) what would happen if Glinda's daughter met Elphaba's under very precarious circumstances.

Author's Notes: As I did get a couple of reviews here and other places, I decided to continue the story for at least another chapter. Thank you to Anna Marie Raven (love your name; more of a Kitty Pryde fan myself), Sinfulpurgatory, and Devin for their reviews! They mean so much to me.

Chapter Two: He Better Love Her Not

Dinner within the Emerald Palace was not normally a grand affair; normally only a dozen cooks were needed. For the night the two derelicts arrived, however, Glinda hired two dozen extra cooks along with several now-flustered maids to serve.

Nissa slumped as Ozma worked the younger girl's hair into something more delicate than her now-frazzled curls. "I don't understand why mother's doing this."

Ozma poked Nissa in the back with a comb, straightening the younger girl's posture. "You have to understand, Nissa that this isn't just your mother's well-wishes; it's also rather political. With the enmity between us and the people in the West, we need to show the public that we're helping them in order to gain their trust. We have no idea who her mother is, so we must help Miss Fae as well as we can."

She finally pulled Nissa's hair into a semblance of a bun. She tapped Nissa's shoulder, and the young girl stood. Ozma smiled. She was about to say something, when a bell sounded through the hallway. "Ah…that'd be dinner; why don't you go and get our guests of honor?"

Nissa hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Of course." She said. She left Ozma and her room and headed up a set of steps. She stopped at the top to make sure she was in order, before she walked towards the room she had put the two young adults in earlier. The door was ajar, and the two seemed to be arguing. It would have been insulting to them if she intruded, so she stayed behind the door, listening.

She could see a shadow, and assumed it was Aran, the Quadling, pacing, as his voice drifted in and out of her hearing regularly. "…could have happened to…a Munchkin man with seven…"

A book closed – Nissa wondered where they had gotten a book from. "A week a part, Aran." She said, her deep voice solemn.

Aran stopped pacing near the door. "Yes, Fae, we've established that." He sounded like he was teasing her, but his tone changed suddenly. "How do you know, huh? How can we be so sure?"

Fabala let out a small laugh; it sounded defeated, and altogether not what Nissa remembered from earlier. "I just…" there was the sound of paper crinkling, and Aran's shadow moved away from the door. "Whatever it is…it's moving; fast. No one knows what it is. They need help, Aran. I just don't know how to get it."

There was silence for a moment, before Aran spoke. "Don't worry; we'll figure it out soon enough. And if not, you get the bonus of the bimbo blonde." Nissa's eyes narrowed once she realized the comment was about either herself or her mother. She composed herself quickly, however, and knocked on the door. There was the sound of shuffling, and Aran opened the door. "What?" he asked.

Nissa smiled pleasantly. "Dinner's ready."

"We're not hungry." Fabala said from her stooped position on the bed. Nissa's smile faltered slightly, but it came back fully

"But you must come! Mother expects it, and she's pulled out all the stops. We're having…well, I'm not sure what with all the courses, but I'm sure you'll love it. Our cook is, I must admit, excellent."

Fabala and Aran exchanged a look, before she sighed and stood. "Fine; lead the way." The two girls watched each other for a moment, before Aran nudged Fabala, and they left. As they neared the dining room, Fabala grabbed Nissa's shoulder. "Remember, call me Miss Fae." She warned.

Nissa frowned. "I know – do you think I'm stupid?"

"No; I just wanted to make sure." Fabala said gruffly. She started to braid her hair deftly. As she finished, she pulled out a piece of string and tied it into her hair. Nissa opened the doors into the dining room.

Glinda smiled and stood as the trio arrived in the room. Lord Bromley and his son also rose. "Hello, hello Miss Fae and Master Aran! Why, I didn't get to make introductions earlier. This is my betrothed, Lord Bromley and his son, Destin; I'm sure you know Miss Dorothy Gale and Princess Ozma?"

Fabala eyed Dorothy. "Yes; I've heard of them both. It is a…dream to meet you both." She said. Nissa sat down in a chair Destin had pulled out for her. Aran went to do the same, but Destin stopped him.

"There's no need." The older young man said. He pulled out the chair and smiled at Fabala. "Please, take a seat Miss Fae." He said. She sat down as he slid the chair back into towards the table. He walked back to his chair. Aran stood uncomfortably for a moment, watching the other two males. Glinda sat, as did Destin and Lord Bromley, so Aran sat next to Fabala.

The salad and soup came and went, and soon they were sipping drinks while they waited for the main course. Glinda looked over at Fabala.

"Now, dear, what is wrong with your mother?" she asked kindly.

Fabala looked down at her napkin. "She's been having chest and stomach pains that have stopped her from being outside or doing anything; my father's had everyone who's ever done anything with medicine in the Vinkus come to see her, but they're all puzzled." She said.

Lord Bromley nodded towards Aran. "And where do you play into this, boy?" He asked.

Aran was taken aback by the rudeness of Bromley's question. "I don't understand, sir." He said as mildly as he could.

Lord Bromley took a sip of wine. "How do you figure into the story of a Winkie coming for help with her mother? Did you two meet on the road, or are you a servant of some sort?"

"Or are you siblings?" Ozma asked, sending Lord Bromley a disgusted look. Glinda cleared her throat, and Bromley backed down, looking abashed.

Fabala gagged on a sip of wine and pulled it away from her, blushing deeply. "I'm sorry." She said, coughing.

"It's quite alright, dear." Glinda promised.

Before Aran could answer Lord Bromley's question, Destin interjected. "Miss Fae? After dinner, will you come with me so we can go over what artifacts are missing?"

Fabala looked at Destin for a moment, before nodding. "Of course" she said. The main course came, and the talking slowly drifted into quiet mumblings, then died out altogether.

Destin stood as the meal was finished, and walked over to Fabala's chair. He was about to pull it out, but she stood up on her own. "Thank you, though." She said. Aran touched her hand; Destin caught the motion. He raised a perfect eyebrow curiously, before leading Fabala into a side room.