A/N: Ok, chapter 4. Also, for explanations of any of my references, ask in a review or send a private message. And one more thing. This chapter will be in two installments because the dumb computer wasn't letting me upload the whole thing at once.
Disclaimer: It isn't mine.
A group of guards were at the door. They pulled us away. I was kicking and screaming. Fiyero just sat there like a deadweight and they had a harder time with him, overall, although I did manage to land several sharp-booted kicks where the sun don't shine, if you catch my drift. Perhaps it was a good thing Father never gave me delicate little shoes. They wouldn't have hurt nearly so much. But now we are here, somewhere else deeply ensconced in…wherever this is, although I now believe we're still in the palace, in the most exquisite cruelty imaginable to me: there are two cells. Three walls of each are cement. But the one dividing the two is soundproof glass. I am on one side, and Fiyero is on the other. We can see each other, but we cannot hear or touch.
Bamboo slivers, electric shock, and Chinese water torture I can deal with and even toss in a witty comment between jabs, shocks, or drops, but this?
A guard slams the door shut.
"Yeah, hi," I say to him. "Um, do you have any intention of letting us out anytime soon, because seriously, I do believe I left my oven on and-"
"As soon as you read a spell for the Wizard," he says.
"Has he not heard of the magic words?" I pun. The guard doesn't get it. "I mean, you'd think they could find someone who didn't evidently fail sharing time in preschool to run the country, but no." I can see Fiyero rolling his eyes at me and motioning for me to shut my mouth. I sigh. "What kind of spell?" I ask wearily.
"One granting his armies extraordinary strength and immortality from battle wounds," the guard replies excitedly.
"Let me see…would I rather fight against regular soldiers, or super-strong immortal soldiers?" I say. "I'm going to have to go with the second one."
"Is that a no?" asks the guard.
"Yes," I moan exasperatedly.
"So you'll do it?" he asks, apparently not getting it.
"NO!"
"I'm confused."
"No, I will not do it. Now go away and leave me with my dignity, what little of it I have left," I say. The guard looks confused again, but he starts walking down the hall.
"And no man is as wretched as Oedipus!" I howl after him. He starts running, and I simply cannot resist. I cackle loudly. Freaking people out…the upside of being Public Enemy # 1. But now…
I press my nose against the glass. Ow. I move it so that just its jutting point touches the cold glass. Damn, and it's really cold. Cold…hmm, I think. I breathe on the glass. I love you, I write in the foggy space. Okay, so this room must be seriously cold. But I can't feel it; I am too focused on Fiyero. Did the glass not separate us, our palms would be touching, so too our faces. We are greedy and giddy with the nearness of one another, pressing our whole selves up against the glass, warming it, and conveying with our eyes words we could not say even out of this prison. We stand like this for what seems like an eternity, and it is not enough, but eventually the guard returns and an idea slowly forms in my head.
Don't freak out…just follow my lead, ok? I mouth, and I'm pretty sure he gets it. He nods, anyhow. I break slowly, painfully away from the glass and stride over to the guard.
"I've reconsidered," I say briskly. "Now, you'll let us go free if I read this spell for the Wonderful Wizard, who in addition to lacking the capability to say the word 'please,' apparently also cannot read?"
"Yes…and shut up," he says.
"But then however shall I cast this spell?" I ask innocently. He groans, unlocks the door, and drags me out. "Fiyero comes too," I say.
"No."
"No Fiyero, no spell," I say. I watch the struggle in his face. Immortality wins. He's no Odysseus, apparently. He reluctantly unlocks Fiyero's door and handcuffs both of our hands in front of us. Yanking us forward, he pulls us through a winding route back to the throne room.
"Welcome to the kingdom of an unenlightened despot," I mutter to Fiyero.
"Elphaba, I love you and your defense mechanisms dearly, but try not to get us both killed with them, okay?" he replies. "And…you aren't really going to read this spell, are you?"
"Of course not!" I cry, offended.
"What are you going to read?" he asks.
"You'll see," I say, smiling wickedly and then hiding my face behind my hair so that the guard can't see me nearly laughing. Then, I get yet another idea. In a low voice, I begin talking with the guard.
"You know, locking a witch up really serves no purpose," I tell him quietly. "I hold all the cards here. I could be gone in a puff of smoke, any second, and Fiyero with me…and you too, but the difference would be, Fiyero and I would reappear somewhere else, and you," I pause dramatically and cackle, "well, you wouldn't reappear at all, dearie."
He shudders. I fall back into step with Fiyero and laugh genuinely.
"You're shameless."
"You wish."
"Quite true."
A herald steps out and blows a few notes into his trumpet.
"The Wizard will see you now," he says grandly.