Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2010. Found: 2018- Licia

"Each time that I think you go
I turn around and you're creeping in
And I let you another skin
'Cause I love living in the sin"

- Ghost,

Ella Henderson,

Chapter One Album

Once she was certain Glinda was really downstairs, she climbed out of the tub, grabbing the white towel the woman had left folded on the chair for her. Silently, she wrapped it around her body, feeling the water drip down her skin towards the floor. She turned towards the mirror, reaching up and wiping away the light condensation with her arm.

A small part of her kept saying that this wasn't real. That she would wake up in Fiyero's apartment, or in the street somewhere in the City, while the rest of her screamed that this was real, and that she at least had a safe, stable, warm bed to sleep in for the night. And then come tomorrow morning she would... she would...

She wasn't exactly sure what she would do, but she would figure it out.

After a moment, she left the bathroom, going down the hall to the guest room. As Glinda had said, her book bag sat on the chair by the desk, and a fresh pair of pajamas were lying on the bed; dark blue silk. Her fingers slid over the fabric softly, she'd never felt something so soft before in her entire life. A tiny smile tugged at her lips.

A creak in the hallway caused her to raise her head, and after releasing the pajamas, she went to the bedroom door, shutting it softly.

Glinda swallowed thickly. That girl looks so much like you, Elphie. She could be your daughter, had you ever had one. A tear slid down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

"This is all that is left of the Wicked Witch of the West! She's dead!"

She couldn't help replaying the news that had quickly spread through the City like wildfire- the most feared, evil woman in all of Oz was dead and gone, appeared to be melted by a mere rainstorm.

"Water will melt her."

She remembered starting that horrid rumor back at Shiz, back before they had become friends; at the time, it had only been a mere rumor, but now...

Now, apparently, it was true. Water really did melt Elphaba Thropp.

Her head snapped up at soft footsteps, and she saw the girl come downstairs and into the kitchen, dressed in the blue silk pajamas, her long black hair pulled over her shoulders. She looked at Glinda apprehensively, before her gaze flicked to the tea cup in her hand. "May I... have some tea?" A tiny smile tugged at the blonde's mouth; so this girl had been raised with manners.

"You may. Chamomile or-"

"Would you happen to have lavender?" She asked, taking a seat at the table, watching Glinda freeze at the question. Lavender.

Only one person liked lavender tea...

"I like lavender tea more than coffee. Given the choice, I'd take lavender over anything else, even food."

"Ah..." The blonde cleared her throat, to keep from showing how shaken she was. "I do, actually. Are you sure it's what you want? Lavender can be quite strong." She turned to meet the girl's gaze. Dark eyes bore into hers, and after a moment, the girl replied,

"I actually like my tea strong."

Like my tea strong.

She swallowed, forcing herself to put her meltdown off until she was safely behind the walls of her room. She smiled softly. "So, Elle, tell me about yourself, please?"

And so the teenager recounted the same story she'd given Fiyero over coffee at the cafe that morning, only this time she added little tidbits she thought up on the spot- like how her mother had taught her how to play the piano and sing before she died, how her father would often have her sing hymns in church, and how she grew to detest the church and religion in general. Glinda listened, her mind finding the parallels between her story and Elphaba's life-

"And you want to perform?"

The girl nodded. "I love to sing. I love to dance and act, and make people happy. Knowing I can make them forget the worries of everyday life, even for an hour or two, is... phenomenal. I love it. So I'm going to make a career of it. I'm going to be the most famous actress Oz has ever seen." Glinda's blue eyes shifted as her thoughts wandered back to her best friend. They were silent for several minutes, before, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can, Elle."

The girl bit her lip. "Why were the people celebrating today? I know they said something about a witch being killed, and I saw a Wanted poster taped to a window, but... who was she, exactly? The... Wicked Witch of the West?"

Glinda sighed, setting her tea down. "She was... she was a very dear friend of mine." She glanced up at the girl, who watched her, silent. "Her name was Elphaba Thropp. And she wasn't wicked at all; she was simply a girl, who was very passionate about what she believed in, and people turned that against her, making her out to be the enemy. She wasn't the enemy. Had she been given the chance, she could have been a savior."

"I'm sorry." The blonde nodded, reaching over and patting her hand.

"So am I."

She slid between the sheets of the bed in the guest room, but sleep didn't come immediately to her. Instead, she lay awake for the next couple of hours, thinking back to what Glinda had said. She had seemed to truly love this Elphaba that she spoke of, like a sister would, and it clearly pained her to speak of the woman. She shifted onto her back.

The Wicked Witch of the West.

What a... a horrid name. Who would ever want to be known for all eternity as a wicked witch?

A moment passed, before she shifted onto her other side, gaze going to the window across from her bed. The stars shone in the darkness, faintly, tiny beacons of hope watching over everyone. She sighed as she began to drift to sleep, the strings of a plan beginning to weave their way into her mind. Did she dare hope, that maybe one of those stars was meant for her?