Hello! Chapter 2, wooo~
Anyway, I typed out a story breakdown the other day- this story may be anywhere from 20-30 chapters long, maybe more if I feel like it. Happy with that, guys? Yes? No?
To Elphabalover101: No, no it can't be good. Nothing with Morrible or Pitch can be good. But both? Hehehe... And thanks, glad you enjoy it already!
And now we begin!
The room fell into a sharp silence.
"Pitch is… how could he be back so soon?"
Tooth knew the answer, but it didn't stop her from musing out loud. Fear—and lots of it. A nation of it. And right now a severe amount of panic enveloped the five immortals as well. North gave off a heavy sigh, pausing a moment before finding the words to say, "Does not matter how, all that matters is that, yes, he is back. And yes, we need to stop him."
"Jamie…"
The Russian man turned to the youngest member, his brow raised, "What, Jack?"
"If Pitch is back, does that mean Jamie is in danger?" the winter spirit's voice rose an octave, anxiety tangled in with his words. Bunny was the first to answer, "It's possible, but not likely. He may 'ave been the last light, but many oth'rs believe now. Hurtin' Jamie wouldn' do anything to help him, at least not compared to going after us…"
And after a brief pause, the Guardian of Hope continued, his voice lower, almost dangerous, "Especially you."
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, his panic subsided by curiosity. Tooth let out a strangled sound, understanding what the pooka meant. "Jack," she explained, "Jamie and you both spelled his defeat. Hurting one believer won't do anything for him, so Jamie is safe… but you? Getting rid of you may just be his main priority, after all, you're the reason there was still one believer left in the first place."
The winter spirit was silent.
"Jack… I understand you won't enjoy this," North sighed, "but you would be safest not to be on your own for a while. At least not until we know more."
"But that's not—,"
North cut the boy off with a stern glare, "This is not up for debate. You will not be by yourself until we figure this out. You are in danger, and we will not let you make the risk bigger than it already is."
In a sort of rushed way to break the tension, and to stop the winter spirit's obvious argument, North finished, "We don't want to lose you either…"
Jack swallowed down any retaliation, somewhat satisfied by the words. In the past two years as a guardian, reminders that he mattered to someone seemed to work in getting him to cooperate.
"As much as I'm aware of the risk," Tooth interjected, "we still need to find out where Pitch found enough fear to return so quickly. And we do need as much help as we can get…"
"Ah, yes," North said, waving his hand, "Bunny can go with Jack and two of them will search together—,"
"Wait, I nev'r agreed to babysittin' the—,"
"Is settled," North said, grinning at the pooka, who didn't seem to return the gesture, "You two will go and search. Tooth, you and your fairies should be on lookout while collecting teeth. And Sandy can—Sandy, wake up!" The Russian man nudged the Guardian of Dreams, startling the being as he shot awake. Chuckling, North continued, "Sandy, you see if any children are having nightmares, might be sign of Pitch."
"And what about you?" Jack asked. North sighed, "I will monitor the lights. If Pitch is back, he may go after children again."
"So we find out what's wrong" Tooth mused, "fix the problem, and…?"
"Fight," North finished, "just like last time."
Jack spoke up softly, his words nearly drowned out by the noise of the workshop, "And if we can't find out in time, then what?"
Bunny paused, taking a moment to realize the single thought that reeled through the boy's mind.
"That won't happen, Frostbite… I swear to you."
Glinda stared at the pink rosette, fiddling with the clip on the back. She always seemed to do that nowadays when she was stressed. The workers in the palace just assumed it was a way to keep her hands busy—which it was—but she couldn't calm unless it was that special item.
She clipped it into her blonde curls, which reached to her mid back by now. Looking in the mirror, she grimaced—the hair clip looked better on Elphie.
Glinda had given her the rosette clip because it looked so amazifying on her. Elphaba thought the blonde did it out of pity—but Glinda really thought pink went well with green.
Of course, when Elphaba flew out of the window on a broomstick, she left all of her belongings behind—including the suitcase of the things she brought just in case she got the job with the Wizard and got to move into the palace and away from Shiz for good. So Glinda had kept the suitcase in the corner of her room, because it reminded her of her best friend. When she caved in to her curiosity of what was precious to Elphaba and opened up the suitcase, she saw the pink rosette tumble out.
Elphaba wanted Glinda's hair clip with her, she couldn't leave it behind.
The blonde didn't think she had cried that much over something silly before.
And now, sitting on the edge of her bed, remembering that she chased Elphaba away over a boy of all things, and that said boy was now gone, she felt the warm tears roll down her rosy cheeks all over again.
"Lady Glinda?"
In a swift motion she wiped the tears from her eyes and plastered on a smile—what she had been doing for two years now. "Yes?"
She frowned at the sight of Shell, who was standing casually in her doorway, a soft smile on his features. When he noticed the remnants of her tears, the smile faded into a look of concern. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, what did you need, Shell?"
"The Wizard sent me down to tell you there's a conference at the thirteenth hour, explaining about Fiyero's… decision," Shell said, purposely changing the word from betrayal, "you were expected to be there, but if it isn't a good time…"
Glinda shook her head, "No, it's fine. Tell him I'll be down in ten minutes, please." She lowered her gaze again to the pink rosette in her lap.
"Will do."
Shell turned on his heel to leave, but threw her one last glance over his shoulder, saying softly, "He was a good man. With good intentions… you have my deepest sympathies, Lady Glinda…"
He was gone before she even looked up.
Elphaba looked at the headstone in dismay, wrapping the cloak tighter around her. Her face was shadowed by a hood—something other than her hat for once—as to not risk exposure. She extended an emerald hand to gently graze the top of the gravestone.
"Mother, forgive me…," she whispered, knowing her mother was the only one who would be willing to. "For everything I've done. I never meant to harm anyone. I only meant to do what was right… but so many people…"
She let out a strangled sound.
"I've hurt so many others. You taught me to do what's right—but maybe I just never knew what was truly right…"
With another soft cry and a deep breath, she mused, "I'm wicked… and I'm so sorry."
There was a tug on the hem of her dress, and the green witch looked down for a moment, staring into the bright golden eyes of Chistery. He looked at her, his eyes as well filled with tears, sad to see her so sad.
"Chistery… you should go."
He stayed right where he was, still gripping her skirt.
"Please, Chistery… I need to be alone."
He stared at her, his eyes seeming to say what he couldn't.
No, you need a friend here with you. So I'm staying whether you like it or not.
Elphaba's shoulders began to shake, tears rolling faster down her cheeks. "Why? Why're you here? What reason have I given you to stay with me?"
He just leaned into her leg, finally letting go of her dress. After a brief moment, he looked up at her again, the look in his golden orbs saying exactly what he thought.
I don't need a reason to stay with you. I just want to.
Elphaba let out a cry of disbelief, resting her hand on the monkey's head. After wiping her eyes dry and regaining her composure, she let out the breath she never realized she was holding.
"Come, Chistery. I want you to meet a friend…"
And he followed without a moment of hesitation.
"And, so, fellow Ozians, we would like you to say hello to our new Captain—Shell!"
The crowd cheered, some more happily than others. The conference had gone quite well—Morrible used to excuse of a curse to explain Fiyero's sudden change of heart, and Glinda just bit her tongue and went along with it. She knew Elphaba would never do something like that. No matter how much she wished to be loved by someone. And judging by the surprise when Fiyero announced he was going to leave with her—she had no clue about his affections, anyway.
Glinda scanned the crowd, looking for a flash of green and black, or the tip of the pointed hat, something to let her know Elphaba was out there, still alive and well. When she could find nothing but the emerald color of the city, she frowned, looking back at the tall man, standing beside the leader of Oz. She studied him for the first time since they ran into each other, noting what she could about him.
Shell's short, black hair was combed neatly, and parted in the center, looking all too professional. His brown eyes seemed to glow with pride, although Glinda had seen the look in Fiyero—and herself—to know he must have been hiding pain.
Her brow furrowed—what pain could he possibly have?
After the cheering died down, Shell began to speak, "I promise you, dear Ozians, that I will carry on with what the previous Captain started. Let his death not be looked at in vain, as I promise to finish this witch hunt, and stop the Wicked Witch of the West once and for all!"
The crowd cheered, but both Glinda and Shell turned back to the Wizard and Morrible. The press secretary was grinning like a wildcat at the crowd, while the Wizard just stood there, mouth agape.
"He's… Fiyero is…?"
"Dead?" Glinda croaked out, "yes, you're Ozness, he is. Tortured by the Gale Force for the witch's location…"
The Wizard's expression went from horrified to livid. When Morrible tuned into the trio's conversation, she noted the look in the oldest man's eyes—the pure rage directed at her—and quickly excused herself to head off to her quarters.
She had to find Pitch before the Wizard carried out with his threat.
How're you enjoying the story so far, my pretties? c: Enjoying it enough to review? If hugs aren't enough to make you review, how about pie?