Title: A Winter Night in Shiz
Fandom: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Characters: Galinda, Dr. Dillamond
Prompt: #67 - Snow
Word Count: 529
Rating: PG
Summary: Like a message from the Unnamed
God: the small, white pieces of water, falling lightly towards her, reminded
Galinda of her home, a place she would rather be than return to her room to
bunk with that green thing.
Author's Notes: This was one of my favourite fanfics, that I've written
thus far in my lifetime, and I am very fond and proud of it )
"Miss Glinda! Await my instruction!" the woman heard the rasp voice of a man—no, an Animal—scream after her, but Galinda felt no reason to wait and listen to the Animal's opinion on another of her beliefs. For Galinda had never really felt a care for Animals; she much rather preferred the company of pets that couldn't talk, "Miss Glinda! Stop! Arête!"
Being a woman of upper-class, Galinda hid her scowl and snapped around with swift ease, "Doctor Dillamond. For the finalest of times, articulate my name correctly! The 'a' is not silent, nor shall it ever be! It is GAlinda." If Galinda's mind could be read, she would have made a sound like a beeping noise, however, that was not a classy sound, so she was able to suppress it until the urge was gone. A woman of proper society would not have yelled, but even Galinda was allowed one mistake that she had every right to do.
Doctor Dillamond was speechless and as he took a moment to open his mouth—is that what one would call the mouth of an Animal, or did it too have a different name, or a different capitalization—his mind tried to wrap around the rant unto which Galinda had just spoken. He glanced at her, and took off his coat.
"It is cold, and I was to suggest a coat to you, Miss Glinda," Of course the Doctor had done it again, and forgotten the proper—what had she called it—pronunciation of her name. But before he could speak to rectify himself, he offered up his coat to the woman, who could only glance at him with a look of regret.
"I am—well, that is to say—thank you, Doctor Dillamond, but I will be fine. A woman from the Uplands, such as myself, is able to easily adjust to the cold." Of course that was not always true, as Galinda had never been outside without a purple, animal-made-from coat on, and her skin had become easily susceptible to the cold, due to that fact, and most likely the oil that came off the animal skin.
Doctor Dillamond cocked an eyebrow—if you could tell the difference between his fur and his eyebrow—and placed his jacket back on his back, "If you insist, then, Miss Glinda," and with that, the Doctor began to walk away, down the halls of Crage Hall, most likely to his study to spend another night reading another book on the theories of Animals.
Her glass slippers took her outside, into a courtyard of Crage Hall, where she felt the cool, south Gilikin breeze blow lightly across her skin. She shuddered, and glanced up into the night sky—it was beautiful. The moon glowing a rather seductive emerald colour, and the stars glimmering one at a time. The only thing that could have made the night better was—
And then Galinda saw it. Like a message from the Unnamed God: the small, white pieces of water, falling lightly towards her, reminded Galinda of her home, a place she would rather be than return to her room to bunk with that green thing.