Chapter 14

A/N Apologies for the delay! It's essays galore time at uni and I am messing up so I completely forgot! Won't happen again (I think...I'll try...) :)

Alright. That's enough out of me.

I had to repost this, after something fishy and inexplicable happened with the website. Apologies to those who might have gotten two notifications and those who might have wanted to read this before and, for some reason, couldn't. I have no clue what happened.

Glinda the Good needed three days. Three whole days in which she refused to leave her rooms, to show her face, to face the public.

The public didn't mind because they all knew the Captain of the Guard had disappeared and they were all convinced it was the Witch that had made him. That had enchanted him. Or taken him hostage. She must have done something to their Captain because he would never have left out of his own accord. And everyone knows the Witch is capable of anything. Who knew what could have happened to their Captain by now? Who knew if they would ever see his face again?

So they understood Glinda's silence and they mourned with her. Their rage at the Witch momentarily overshadowing their fear.

But Glinda the Good knows better.

Even if the young soldier that had looked at her with so much...sympathy...even if he hadn't told everyone about seeing the Witch and being knocked out, she'd have known.

She knew the boy wasn't telling them everything. He'd been found in an alley, scared, dirty, bleeding a little but not in any real danger. The gunshot wound was healing already and he'd told them all that an old woman had showed up out of nowhere and healed him. He didn't know her name and he never knew where she had come from or disappeared off to. He'd seen the Witch, he'd said, in the alley. Out of nowhere, there she was. It was all too much of blur. Maybe he'd remember properly later. For now, all he knew was that he'd seen the Witch, the Captain had been there and someone had shot him.

It was all they needed. Facts were unnecessary.

They'd taken the mixed up and confused words out of the mouth of an exhausted and injured boy and they'd spun a tale that involved the Witch wanting to kill Keegan and the Captain stepping in to save him. How he'd gotten shot was anyone's guess but that the Witch was to blame was not up for debate.

But the boy wasn't telling them the whole truth. Glinda had looked at him carefully when she'd come to hear his story and she'd known.

She knew because he didn't look her in the eye, but he kept throwing glances in her direction when he thought she wouldn't notice. But Glinda had spent her entire life being looked at and being admired and she knew exactly how to decipher any look that someone may throw her way and the one Keegan had had on his face when he looked at her, was one she didn't like.

It was pity.

She knew because it was a look she hadn't been on the receiving end of often but that she'd had in her own eyes many times.

She knew why.

He thought she didn't know. But she did.

He knew what she knew. She was sure of it.

He'd seen the witch. That, she believed. He'd seen the Captain with the witch. That, she believed too.

That that was all he'd seen, was something she did not believe.

When Fiyero had knocked on her door a few days ago, walked into the room and looked at her, she'd known.

She'd known exactly what was coming.

She'd known because there had been anguish and pain so painfully clear on his face that she could not have come to any other conclusion than that he was going to say something she didn't want to hear.

Something had changed. For him. In him.

She knew because she could read people. Much better than he thought. It was why she did what she did and why she was so good at it. No one could do what she did without excellent people skills.

As a child, as a teenager, back at Shiz, she hadn't cared enough to look deeper than needed. She hadn't cared enough to use it for anyone but herself, but even then, she'd known what Nessa wanted, what Boq felt, what Elphaba needed. She'd known better than even they knew. Galinda had been superficial and selfish. Glinda was kind and good and caring. But both knew the worth of pretending.

And both knew when it was time to stop pretending.

He'd told her he had to leave. That he couldn't stay anymore. That he needed time. That he loved her so much and she deserved to be happy but that it couldn't be him, would never be him.

She'd known then that he'd found her.

So when a soldier had rushed in the next day, telling her the Captain had disappeared, had been kidnapped by the Wicked Witch, she'd known her part to play.

But she hadn't been able to do it. She hadn't been able to face the public and smile her way through yet another public announcement.

She couldn't deliver the lines she knew she had to. She needed some time.

In the safety of her chambers, she'd let the tears fall, knowing full well where he had gone and with whom. Knowing that they were probably together now and though she told herself she'd known it was coming, the sting didn't lessen.

The public thought she was in mourning, that she was grieving.

And she was.

Just not for Fiyero.

She was crying for the happy ending she had lost.

She'd convinced herself it was within reach.

But, like at Shiz, it had never been hers to begin with.

He was half convinced that electric current ran between them, and that if he watched closely enough, he'd be able to see it. He'd tried to see it once, back at Shiz. He'd touched his fingertips to her, one by one, very slowly, to see if he could catch that spark in action.

He's doing it now, as she climbs into the bed, dressed in his shirt, because there's nothing else and she refuses to walk around naked, much to his chagrin. He pulls her hand towards his and presses his fingertips against hers.

"What are you doing?"

She's almost afraid to ask. His frivolity, his sillyness is something she's so unfamiliar with that, even though she really thinks it's one of his many charms and inherent to who he is, she is a little wary of it. The way people always are of the unknown.

"Trying to see the spark."

Like right now, where she simply doesn't see where this will go.

"Excuse me?"

"The spark." He looks up at her for a moment, as if to clarify, "We have a spark."

It's unbelievable, but she feels a smile coming. A big one. How does he do that?

"We do?"

"Yes. We do. Back at Shiz, I tried to test that theory, by doing this, but you questioned my sanity and scared me off."

She knows her part and plays it.

"U-huh."

"You did. You were quite mean about it, as I recall."

"It's strange how I don't remember that."

"Yes, well. I have an excellent memory."

She shakes her head and stares at him, the smile still tickling the corners of her mouth but she just looks at him and moves to stretch her legs out.

"Well, can you see it?"

She'll play along because she wants to.

"The what?" He can tell she's indulging him but she's intrigued too, only he's distracted now because her legs bare and long and shapely and...

She smiles and shakes her head.

"The spark. Is this that excellent memory at work?"

"Well, you're distracting me."

The shirt she's wearing really was never that attractive on him.

"How am I possibly distracting you? I am just sitting here."

"Precisely. In my shirt. And nothing else, I sincerely hope at least. It's distracting."

Comments like that still make her blush. She has never considered herself a woman. Or at least not one who could be attractive to a man, one who could be called sexy. She doesn't believe it now, even if he does.

"That's ridiculous. Perhaps your ability to stay with the matter at hand is just sadly lacking."

"Quite the opposite, my beautiful temptress," He can't resist and he grins at her scowl, "my ability to stay with the matter at hand is uncanny, provided the matter at hand is fascinating enough."

He never lets her hide from what makes her uncomfortable. He'll protect her against it, but he won't let her hide.

"I see. And in this case, it isn't?"

"Wrong again. You in very little clothing is more than fascinating enough."

"But the matter at hand was the spark you were looking for, whatever that may mean."

"I have a new theory that they are one and the same. Let's put it to the test,shall we?"

He pushed her back into the mattress gently and kissed his way up her neck. She spread her legs a little to give him the space to move in between them. His hands found her arms and moved them upwards, her hands above her head, his fingers laced with hers.

"See? There it is."

After three days of crying, of being angry at everyone and everything and of feeling more worthless than she ever had, Glinda the Good had had enough.

She was sad.

She was tired.

She was still angry.

She was also determined.

She had lost her best friend and she had lost her fiance, but she had not lost herself.

She went out, addressed the people of Oz and told them what they wanted to hear.

And then she went to see Keegan.

He still doesn't know precisely how many days have gone by but he figures it has to be about a week. Maybe a little more. And she's getting antsy. She's twitchy, even more so, and edgy. She has no patience and she sleeps fitfully. He'd woken up to find her pacing the room and angrily flipping the pages of the Grimmerie two nights ago.

She's planning something. She's been planning something for a long time and she's getting impatient. She tells him eventually. Calmly and simply. She wants to go the Emerald City, break into the palace, get back into that throne room and free those monkeys. It doesn't surprise him. What does surprise him is the coldness of her voice when he asks her what she intends to do if she gets caught.

"I will do my best to avoid that particular predicament. However, the Wizard, as we have long since established, has no powers. I can take care of him in a matter of seconds. I'd kill him, but it's not even worth it."

He swallows the panic, the questions, the nausea.

"But Morrible does have powers, doesn't she? And she always seems to be around the Wizard."

He's not sure if he's trying to help her or trying to install enough fear in her to stop her from carrying out her plan. Not that that would ever work.

She just nods, taking that into consideration. It's an issue she's spent some time on and he shudders to think how much and what possible solutions have crossed her mind. She's not afraid. Not one bit. This is what she wants and she's spent enough time preparing for it.

"Hmm...yes. Morrible. Now there's a problem if there ever was one. I do need to prepare for that. It wouldn't be ideal if she were to catch me first. I'll prepare a spell. And I have those lovely little explosives on me, of course. Even she is not immune to fire explosions."

She's serious too. He knows without a doubt that she'd kill the old witch, if she deemed it necessary. Maybe even if she didn't. And though he knows exactly what Morrible is like, what she has done and that Oz would be a better place without that woman in it, he still finds himself terrified of this side of Elphaba. This part of her that is not afraid to kill in order to do what she deems right.

But through all that, in spite of all that, he's more terrified for her. She's powerful but she doesn't attach enough value to her own life and he fears it's what will get her killed or hurt and the thought makes bile rise in his throat.

"I'll go with you."

"No."

Her tone of voice is as firm as his can be. It leaves no room for debate.

"Elphaba. I can help you. I know the palace. I know the soldiers."

"No."

It pisses him off, really pisses him off, because he is not a child. He doesn't mind that she speaks to him that way sometimes because he knows it's her way of dealing with things, it's what she does when he makes her uncomfortable and she wants to regain her footing. But he will not be treated like a child when it comes to matters such as these.

"I don't recall asking your permission."

She looks at him in surprise. She's not used to being loved, maybe but she's not used to being defied either. He just looks back. He's been afraid of her reaction too many times to count, but he's never been afraid to defy her.

"I don't want you to come."

She's challenging him. She wants to hurt his feelings, so that he'll get angry or offended and walk away. Anything to stop him from risking his life. It won't work. Just like she won't be scared into abandoning this entire plan, he won't be angered into walking away. She knows exactly which buttons to push but she forgets sometimes that he has so much more patience than she does.

"Well, I am sorry to hear that, but it doesn't change anything."

She starts to panic. She can't have him there. She'll be too worried about him to do her job.

"You'll only endanger yourself."

He only smiles at that. It's not exactly like he didn't know that and it's the last argument she has, and the worst one.

"I don't care."

"Unfortunately, I do."

She's losing her cool. It makes him try one more time to appeal to her practical side. The one he knows she needs the most right now.

"Elphaba. What is that you're going to do exactly? You can't just barge in there and assassinate the Wizard. He'll be surrounded by guards, especially now. We don't know what Keegan told him, but if he shared the news that you were in the City, which we can count on, you can bet he'll have upped his security."

She shakes her head, unwilling to enter into this discussion. She doesn't want to hear all the reasons not to do this, because she will do it, in spite of them all. She needs to do this. Needs to, if she wants to be able to look herself in the eye.

"I have to try, at least. I have to free those monkeys. They're in there because of me, I have to get them out."

He understands that, strangely enough. He wouldn't change her for anything.

"Yes. I know that. And I may not like the fact that you'll be putting yourself in danger, again, but I also know that that is who you are, and this is what I signed up for when I chose a life with you, but you need to at least think about it and plan carefully, okay? Because you're not alone anymore and I'll be damned if I let you run off to that palace and into the hands of the Gale Force. I only just found you. I was planning on spending at least 70 years with you, not 7 days."

Her face is flushed, as it always is when he mentions their future, because her part in his future is so clear in his eyes, it's set in stone, and it humbles her and makes her want to hide her face in her hands. But she loves him. Even if she can't quite bring herself to say it yet, she loves him. And he's right. She's not alone anymore, and she needs to be less careless, if only for him. Plus, he has a good point. Logically speaking, he'd be an asset. She has absolutely no intention of letting him come, but he would just hide her broom if she tells him that, so she needs a different plan. One that will satisfy him into letting her go alone.

"Have you...have you thought about going home?"

This time, she really doesn't see what he means. She doesn't have a home. And it's not as sad as it sounds, really, because where she grew up never felt like home and whenever she thinks of the word...well...she supposes, if anything, she thinks of him now.

"Erm..."

"To see your father, I mean. And Nessa. They could help."

Her eyebrows almost disappear into her hairline.

"How?"

"Your father is the governor of Munchkinland, Elphaba. He has power. He has a voice. If you could get them on your side...maybe...maybe your name could be cleared. It would take a long time, but I might be worth a shot. If they could at least not publicly condemn you. If they used their power to help you...you could at least go talk to them."

"You really think my father will let me in the house? He didn't want me there, even when I wasn't the Witch. He's hardly going to open his door to me now."

He flinches at that because, once again, he is reminded of what her life has been like, but he casts it aside. Pity doesn't do anything for her and she'd just resent him for it. Plus, there's no time. He has a point to make.

"What about Nessa?"

"I..."

"Please, Elphaba, will you just try this first? Maybe you're right. Maybe it won't work, but the worst that could happen is you lose a little time. Nessa won't turn you in with the Wizard. You're her sister."

"It may be hard for you to believe, dear Fiyero, but I was always her sister, and she never cared that much."

"I don't believe she didn't care. I saw you two together. She loved you."

"Dependent love. She needed me."

"It's still love. It might be enough."

She looked at him, hesitant. He was being way too optimistic, as per usual. But still...he had a point. Not a great one, and it was a long shot but still...if there was any chance, any at all, to get Nessa on her side...and..it'd be nice to see her sister. Their bond had never been an equal one, but she loved her sister and she'd missed her.

She sighs, in frustration and exhaustion and resignation.

"Fine. Back to Munchkinland it is."

I hope you enjoyed!

I would love a review so I am really hoping you'll leave one :)

I promise it will make me update faster!

(by the way, for the sake of the story, I am going to say that Frex only recently died, which is why Fiyero doesn't know about it either...just so you don't think I'm not paying attention)