Rose ran the length of the narrow hallway banging two pots together. She was hungry and thirsty and Cook didn't let her go into the storeroom by herself. A while ago she had and then he told mommy, who said that if Rose did that ever again she'd be cooking for herself. And majority of the time Elphaba followed through with her threats.

"FAE, CONTROL YOUR PET!" The gruff voice of the rebel cook rang through the house. Interesting fact: Gorillas weren't morning Animals.

"MORE LIKE HER PEST!" another voice called.

The child sounded on and Elphaba was forced to rouse herself. Thrashing around to free her legs of the thin sheets, she sat up and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Another restless night and another less than peaceful awakening.

Glinda tousled her hair with her hands, straightened out her nightdress and fluttered her eyelashes to wake herself up fully and then turned to Fiyero who was still asleep beside her. No matter how much she loved being the society goddess, sometimes the most pleasant place to be was cocooned within the warm quilts beside her husband, watching the images of his dreams flitter across his face. He was always looked so peaceful that she couldn't help but wonder what he dreamed about. Maybe it was a who rather than a what.

Dropping back into the fluffy comfort of the pillows, Glinda slid closer to Fiyero, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest; content to stay that way forever. Though eventually, his breathing evened and he pulled her closer, signifying that he had left the wonderful dreamland they only experienced in the deepest sub-consciousness.

Without opening his eyes, Fiyero murmured, "Good morning."

Shuddering slightly with the weight of her affection, Glinda didn't reply, but rolled through the softness of the blankets onto his chest and laid her head beside his. He responded by pressing one hand into her back and running the other rhythmically along her leg.

No matter how long she wanted to stay here, Elphaba knew there were things that couldn't be denied any longer. Pushing herself up one more time, she rose, stood in front of the looking glass and exhaled slowly. Then sucked in another breath through her teeth. She pulled her hair away from her face messily and tied a band around it, so it hung half in and half out of the pile on top of her head. Stifling a yawn, Elphaba changed into her clothes and shivered slightly at the brief exposure to the winter cold barely fought off by the meagre fires throughout this pathetic excuse for a house.

Throwing open the door Elphaba left the privacy of her room and Rose put down her pots quickly; acting as if it hadn't been her making the noise.

"I'm fairly sure I told you to start finding ways to occupy yourself," Elphaba said unsympathetically.

Rose focused her gaze on her feet and joined her hands behind her back. "I was bored."

"You were bored?" Elphaba scoffed. She was sure that the amount of restlessness inside of Rose was at least tripled in her own self. Without another word, Elphaba strode to the pantry and handed an apple down to Rose, who had followed her. She didn't bother taking one for herself. Her appetite had drained along with most of her will.

Rose glanced back as Cook strode into the tiny kitchen. He was a Gorilla, but that didn't bother her. As far as she knew, Animals were humans and humans were Animals. Elphaba didn't bother teaching her differently. Cook was of course, the cook. He had a name, but there were no names in the rebellion. Elphaba was Fae. The Zebra was Zebra. Only Rose was allowed to be Rose.

Deciding that it probably would be better to eat, Elphaba picked up a newspaper, grabbed an apple and pulled out a chair at the gritty table centered in the room.

Fiyero and Glinda sat down for breakfast in the dining hall alone. It was rare for them to have a meal to themselves. By now, Glinda was wearing her signature tiara and felt more like herself. Somehow not wearing it made her feel very exposed; a side she didn't even like to show Fiyero, but did anyway.

They chewed their way through breakfast making light conversation and then made their way outside to the carriage that was awaiting them. Fiyero offered his arm and Glinda took it, taking the first step into the doorway of the carriage.

Standing with one foot out of the door, Elphaba wrapped a scarf tightly around her neck and pulled it over her mouth. She hesitated to shout a goodbye to occupants of the house that couldn't care less. Sometimes it was as if she needn't have worked so hard to make herself invisible; it was just natural, or at least it was of late. Once upon a time she had stuck out like a sore thumb.

As if a childish intuition had read the thoughts, Rose appeared down the hall in the doorway of the kitchen. "Where are you going today?" she asked innocently.

"Nowhere of importance," Elphaba answered; internally struggling. She didn't want to go anywhere, but she ached to get away from the house and from her own child. What kind of monster did that make her? "Remember what I told you to say if anyone asks."

Rose pretended to padlock her lips. "You're my secret." And she ran off in the opposite direction to occupy herself.

Elphaba nodded slightly. "And you're mine." She turned away so Rose couldn't see the expression on her face.

Glinda beamed as she entered the orphanage and the children ran towards her. She loved children and their little uplifting presences. Even in the depressing state of the building and with the gaunt little faces staring up at her, Glinda felt happier knowing that she could make a difference. She also felt the slight pang in her heart that ached for the children she couldn't have.

Reaching out and interlocking her fingers with Fiyero, Glinda began leaning over and greeting each and every one of the children personally, noting with pride the look of amazement on their faces. She took it upon herself to learn each name by heart.

As they walked through the swarm of young ones, a path was made through the middle; people parting this way and that just so that they could get a good look at the beautiful couple making their way through.

And as usual, once inside of the orphanage itself, Glinda felt completely out of place. But then again, maybe something about feeling out of place was comforting.

After all, she was working for the greater good, wasn't she? But still, mansions and the people that owned them were not usually to be trusted; only as last resorts. And that's what was happening now. The Wizard needed to be brought down immediately and the only ones who could be of help were those who knew him and the details of his life intimately; ergo, his guards.

With much persuasion, Elphaba had recruited three guards who would help her map out the palace. One step closer to executing the plan. She zigzagged through crowds of servants, trying to blend in as closely to everyone else as possible. Of course her cohorts were wealthy; having been close to the Wizard. She had had to cross over to town on foot just to get to their home. On this side of the city, mansions were more common than air.

And for all of this, she didn't even have the benefit of names because of the required anonymity. Not that she would have made any effort to learn them anyway.

Then again, anonymity was better. It was good. No one could know who she was and what she'd done in the past. And no one would ever know anything about her. She hadn't even bothered telling anyone about her little meeting.

Of course, the newspapers were alerted. They were alerted every time Glinda breathed, for Oz's sake. But that's still not why she did it. She just had an overwhelming urge to help those who needed it. Maybe as compensation for all the less-than-lovely things she'd done over the course of her life.

Sitting down with ten little girls around her, Glinda absentmindedly began playing with the hair of the nearest child and tied it into an intricate braid that cascaded down her little back. Glinda watched as Fiyero, surrounded by a crowd of boys, told a military story using wild gestures and deep, ominous voices. She found it so endearing watching him surrounded by all of those adoring little faces.

Over the course of the next few hours, Glinda and Fiyero made the thirty orphans their own and won over each and every one of their impressionable hearts. Since it was December, they set up a Lurlinemas tree and started pinning decorations onto the pine branches, occasionally lifting a child to get to a higher branch. The shining lights gave the main room a warmer feeling. Maybe, Glinda thought, she and Fiyero had made Lurlinemas better for all of these children. That was a rather heartening feeling. Perhaps she was freeing all of their little spirits.

Freedom by Lurlinemas. That was a prospect too wonderful for Elphaba to even consider hopefully. This was something...what? Eight? Nine? Ten years in the making. Well, Rose was seven and three years before...yes. Ten at the least. God, had it really been seven years since she last saw him? Wait. Not of importance.

But it would be worth it. That was the important thing. To have everyone of every race free again as they once were brought tears to her eyes and a smile to her face. She knew better than anyone what it was like to feel inferior, but she wouldn't dwell on that.

She had been waiting for hours though, for the three pacing guards to come to a verdict. It seemed the Wizard's Palace was not as easy to penetrate as they had thought...before they had actually thought it out. Elphaba leaned back and crossed her arms, not amused by their mistakes.

"Why don't we just map it out?" she suggested irritably. That's the only reason she showed in the first place.

They nodded and pulled out a large piece of parchment, dividing it into six main quadrants. One of the quadrants, they told her, belonged to Lady Glinda and Captain Fiyero. Elphaba didn't know whether to be disgusted or amused. Another section they told her was the throne room and directly under that, Elphaba reached out to mark herself, were the Wizard's chambers.

Glinda gripped her pen carefully and traced out a neat letter on the parchment in front of her, indicating for the girl in her lap to try it for herself. Across the room, Fiyero caught her eye and held it with a warm smile playing at his lips. In his own arms was a boy learning his alphabet as well. Fiyero and Glinda both agreed that even if they rarely exercised the skills, literacy was something that shouldn't be deprived of anyone.

Fiyero carefully wrapped his hand around the boy's and scrawled a messy 'F' out on the paper in front of him, explaining that it was important to cross it at the middle. Glinda, learned by Fiyero's example. She saw his patience and his reassurance and that made her a better teacher. Without him there she probably would have lost interest in the task long ago.

Rose sat on the ground with a book in her lap, immersed in the warmish fabric of Elphaba's skirts. Her mother sat on the chair with her legs curled beneath her and her head in her hands. As to why, Rose learned not to ask. Or rather, Elphaba had taught her the hard way. Still, Rose felt comforted when her mother was around. When a word came up that she didn't know, she would ask and Elphaba always knew it. Always.

Elphaba opened her eyes as Rose pressed the book into her lap and quietly pointed at a word near the top. Without argument, Elphaba told her how to pronounce it and sounded it out for her. At a young age, Rose had learned to read. It was the one thing Elphaba took upon herself as a mother. The one thing she wanted to give her child. The most important, except for maybe the gift of life, but that was accidental and unwarranted. This was not.

Had this been at any other time of day, Elphaba probably would have snapped at Rose and berated her for being terrible at problem solving, but as the day neared towards night, Elphaba always felt the throbbing of loneliness in her chest. She had gotten so much accomplished today and couldn't tell anyone. Furthermore, there was a beautiful child lost in an imaginary land at her feet and no one knew of her existence. No one would ever know. And poor little Rose didn't even have a say in it. Elphaba felt selfish for wanting so much. For wanting some type of escape.

Leaving was always the hardest part. It was when it dawned on Glinda that she had a palace and a loving husband always waiting in the background, while these children didn't have the simple comfort of one parent. She felt profoundly selfish for having so much. It was almost as if the moment she stepped into her carriage the sadness reappeared in their eyes and they were left with only the searing wound of their situation.

"Look at them," Glinda said sadly as they were whisked away into the streets of the rich part of the city. "They're just stuck there!" A tear escaped her eye.

Fiyero pulled her in close and stroked her soft curls. "Don't worry, Glinda. There's always a way out."

"Is there really?" Glinda asked in a rare show of stubbornness.

He kissed the crown of her head, not caring that he upset the carefully placed tiara. In fact, he pulled it away from her hair and set it beside him, beholding Glinda the way no one else saw her; stripped of her self-proclaimed confidence and royalty.

The breakdown of it was simple. Elphaba wasn't Elphaba anymore and she wouldn't be ever again. She was just Fae; the Rebellion princess. Fae was raw and unforgiving. She ignored those who weren't of use to her, even if it meant losing the respect of her own child. She was resourceful and cunning. All of the things Elphaba had never been.

But the green woman curled up on the chair, watching the last rays of sunlight disappear in the horizon, was positive that it was Elphaba who broke down every night; not Fae.

Feeling a slight pull on her skirt, she snapped back into reality and saw Rose drying tears with Elphaba's dress.

"Is something wrong?" Elphaba asked neutrally, attempting to hold back the shakiness.

Rose pointed at the book that was now closed beside her. "It was sad."

All Elphaba could think to offer up was a grim, "Get used to it." But then at the hurt expression on Rose's features, Elphaba slid nimbly off the chair and towards the doorway of the room where they had been sitting alone. "Time for bed."

With only a few more words exchanged, Rose wished Elphaba goodnight and Elphaba pulled the sheets up over her daughter's thin frame, tucking them around her carefully. Rose closed her eyes, but Elphaba knew she might be up for hours thinking over the outcome of her book. She was sensitive.

And still, nothing possessed Elphaba to walk right through that door and gather that child up in her arms, so they could both cry out their troubles and begin fresh the next morning. What was the point of that, when there was no way of starting fresh the next morning and no one to start it with?

Not sure how she would ever break out of this rut, Elphaba returned to her chair and looked out at the streets of the Emerald City and the people wandering it. Some aimlessly and some with a mission. This time Elphaba was really looking instead of allowing her mind to fall apart.

So she waited. For what, she wasn't quite sure. But soon, the darkness of the streets would be illuminated by the carefully spaced green lanterns that people came from all around Oz to glimpse at least once.

"I'm sorry." Glinda dried her eyes. "I don't know what came over me. It was that dinner I suppose. Shouldn't be fed to children."

Fiyero could see Glinda trying to cover for herself and he wasn't buying it. "You're not okay. Glinda, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know!" Glinda exclaimed angrily, not directed towards him, but mostly herself and whatever substance in the atmosphere that was making her so emotional. "I don't even know!"

"Did something upset you?" Fiyero murmured into her ear, stroking the insides of her wrists.

Glinda nodded, not even aware of what had caused the sudden outburst. She supposed she'd have to come up with some kind of explanation. "Fiyero, I'm so useless."

A crease formed in between his brow and his forehead crinkled in bewilderment.

"I don't have anything to offer Oz!"

"What a ridiculous thing to say!" Fiyero blurted.

"But Fiyero, how is it fair that all of those children are stuck there and people are stuck on the streets, while I lie in my cushy bed thinking about lollipops and rainbows?"

"You made them so happy today," Fiyero whispered.

"But what about you?"

"You make me the happiest man alive," he rushed.

"I can't even give you children," Glinda muttered, shamed by the statement.

Fiyero paused for a moment and untangled his hands from her hair. "Is that what this is about? I thought we were over this."

Glinda bit her lip; her voice was still uncommonly low and shaky. "Every girl grows up thinking about her future. A husband...a nice home...children running up and down the halls. We'll never have that because of me."

He ran a hand through his hair and over his face. The stressful issue hadn't come up in years and now it seemed to bombard him that Glinda really hadn't let it go quite as fully as he had hoped. Suddenly, he was reminded of the look of agony on Glinda's face as she received the news from the specialist. Fiyero hadn't thought her capable of such anguish. "Glinda, how do I make you see that I don't care about children as long as I have you?"

"Is that the truth?"

"Absolutely."

Glinda seemed to draw strength from Fiyero and forced her spine straight. Her hands set to work smoothing her gown and hair. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

Catching her hands and forcing her still, Fiyero looked at Glinda closely and kissed her gently. "Don't be sorry, Glinda." She nodded and he surveyed her for another moment, before deciding, "Let's walk from here."

"What?"

"We'll walk and watch the lights go on."

Glinda smiled unsteadily and agreed with him.

Fiyero leaned forward and called for the driver to stop. Then he stepped out and offered Glinda a hand. She took it and reached back for her tiara, ready to settle it back into her now messy curls, but Fiyero beat her to it and stuffed the jewelled headpiece into his pocket. "I think I'll keep that for now."

Looking at him suspiciously, but not bothering to argue, Glinda hooked her arm around Fiyero's and pressed as close to him as she could get and still be able to move. Together they walked down the road toward the emerald palace in the distance.

So the three waited for their lights to go on, as they did every night, never failing. If anything, the Emerald City was a place of routine and regime for those not so tied down by commitment to their own lives. When emotions ran wild and the hurt took over, the lights still flashed on one by one down the lane leading up to the grand old palace at the end of the road. Always.

Whether you be rebel, social princess or captain, you can't hide your secret sorrows forever.