I don't own Wicked.
Glinda ran to her old friend, throwing her arms around his neck. "Fiyero, what—how—? Elphie told me you were dead!"
"I know," he responded quietly, returning her embrace. "It was best for you. We didn't want you to be put in danger."
"Have you been here all this time?"
"Yes, with—" But then Fiyero broke off, withdrawing from Glinda. "It doesn't matter. You're hurt, and I'm sure you're hungry as well. Liir, give her some of the soup that your mother made last night."
"Wait a second!" Liir stepped back, glaring at Fiyero accusingly. "You know her? How? Mom said—"
"Later," Fiyero interrupted, fixing his son with a hard stare. "Do as I say."
Reluctantly the young boy obeyed, giving Fiyero a sullen look as he slumped off into the kitchen. Glinda covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
"He's stubborn," Fiyero admitted, shaking his head. "And he sure didn't get it from me."
"Fiyero, what are you doing all the way out here? You didn't have to run. I'd make sure nobody hurt you."
Fiyero had been attacked after nearly killing Glinda in order to let Elphaba escape the guards. It wasn't long after that Elphaba had told Glinda he died.
Which reminded her..."Fiyero, why did Elphie tell me you were dead?" Glinda's voice shook as she recalled the conversation; it had been one of the more painful ones and also their last.
"I..." Fiyero exhaled, shaking his head. "It's a long story, and I promise I'll explain later." He looked like he was about to say more, but at that moment Liir came back in, handing Glinda a carved wooden bowl. There was a thick red liquid in it, with assorted vegetables scattered throughout. Despite its appearance, the stew wasn't half bad, and after a tentative first sample Glinda ate ravenously, devouring it like a starved wolf.
Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde woman saw Fiyero mutter something to Liir. The boy gave him a perplexed look but didn't say anything, turning and trotting up the stairs.
When the bowl was thoroughly emptied, Glinda set it down and leaned back, feeing better than she had in quite some time. "Thank you, Fiyero." She offered him a grateful smile, but to her surprise, he looked worried and shook his head.
"Don't thank me just yet," he murmured, glancing anxiously at the staircase.
Puzzled, Glinda was about to demand an explanation when the sound of footsteps distracted her. As she turned to look, a woman came into view. She had long black hair, soft dark eyes and the aura of a sorceress. "Fiyero, what's going on? Liir told me—" But then she stopped dead upon seeing Glinda. The woman's mouth opened, and she looked rather like a fish out of water.
Glinda felt dizzy as she rose, eyes fixed on the woman's face. She knew that face, those eyes better than her own, no matter that the skin had been green the last time she'd seen it. Her lips trembled as she spoke, voice quivering and threatening to break.
"E—Elphaba...?"