A short chapter, but a fun one. Please don't forget to review because this writer could definitely use some love. :)
When Elphaba first came to the Emerald City so long ago, she took the train with Glinda from Shiz and they entered through the city's northern gates. Every other time since then, she flew high over the walls and swooped down from the sky on her broomstick to pay its inhabitants a visit. This time, however, would be her first time she would ever enter the city from the south.
As she looked up at the great doors of the Southern Gate, she couldn't help but be in awe. Dorothy, from her place at Elphaba's side (for physical support, for the relatively long journey left her injured leg incredibly sore), was completely entranced by it and for good reason: it was simply magnificent. Elphaba had to crane her neck in order to see the top of the entry, and the longer she looked upon the door, the more she saw of all its intricate designs.
It was Dorothy who stepped forward out from under Elphaba's arm and pulled on the doorbell's long chain. The witch frowned at the sound; after admiring the beautiful door, she would have hoped to hear something resembling church bells or a pipe organ, but instead a very unappealing clangor rang out.
A small opening swung back, just above Elphaba's eye level, and a red-faced, mustached man appeared.
"Who rang that bell?"
"We did," Dorothy, Boq, and the Lion all responded together.
"Didn't you read the notice?"
"What notice?"
Elphaba looked around with the rest of them and even turned around to survey behind them along the bright yellow path, but she didn't see anything. The gate wasn't closed, was it? It would take at least half a day to walk to another door, especially in her impaired state (that is, assuming she couldn't sneak away and just fly over the wall).
"It's as plain as the nose on my face!" the man exclaimed, and Elphaba's eyes narrowed at him disapprovingly. Then it should be pretty damn noticeable, she thought.
The man began blubbering, clearly discomforted when he realized there was nothing where he was pointing, and he pulled himself back in. He bobbed back out with a sign, hung it on a nail, and slammed the little window shut with an annoying snap.
"'BELL OUT OF ORDER— PLEASE KNOCK,'" Elphaba's three companions read collectively before all turning to each other dubiously.
What in Oz's name…? Was this guy serious? Did he honestly have nothing better to do than to waste their time while they were standing out in the freezing cold and wet? After her whole ridiculous journey, she finally arrived at the grand, glittering, green city to be delayed by this? By the time Dorothy pounded the huge knocker against the wood, Elphaba was positively seething.
"Well, that's more like it!" the pain-in-her-ass said as he came back to his small opening. "Now, state your business."
"We want to see the Wizard!"
"The Wizard? But nobody can see the Great Oz! Nobody's ever seen the Great Oz– even I've never seen him!"
"I've seen him," Elphaba interjected impatiently, adding for good measure, "twice."
While the doorkeeper scowled at her from under his fuzzy hat, Dorothy pleaded, "Please sir! I've got to see the Wizard! The Good Witch of the North sent me!"
"Prove it," the man said, his mustache twitching disbelievingly.
"She's wearing the jeweled slippers she gave her," the Tin Man said excitedly.
And as Elphaba followed Boq's pointing finger, she suddenly understood why Dorothy had her sister's precious and easily recognizable shoes and why Glinda didn't want her to take them off and lose them along the way. Her friend was utterly brilliant.
"Well, bust my buttons! Why didn't you say so earlier? That's a horse of a different color! Come on in!"
With a long groan, the enormous doors slowly swung open, and Elphaba wasted no time in limping through the widening gap, leading the way across the border of the Emerald City. The little doorman, who was obviously of Munchkin decent, had to leap out of the way as the angry woman stormed past, wringing out her wet shirt onto his polished stone floor as she did so.
As soon as she looked around, she found herself completely staggered for the second time in her life at the city's radiance, vastness and variety (despite its one predominant color). Restaurants, tailors, shoe stores, bookstores, hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, beauty spas, grocers, theatres—all within walking distance of the very spot where she stood at the very edge of Oz's great capital. Beyond the main road still, she could see hundreds and hundreds more different shaped structures and businesses lining the roads that spread everywhere like veins in a body, while the buildings grew increasingly tall the farther in they went. It was overwhelming, and on top of that, wild and intense feelings of déjà vu of happier times fell heavily on her heart as fiercely and painfully as a blow to the head.
She must have swayed where she stood, for Dorothy slipped in under her arm again to keep her upright and looked up with a smile. The girl really seemed to have taken to her in the last few hours for reasons that Elphaba couldn't explain, but as the raven-haired witch glanced down at the young farm girl, she found herself smirking back slightly, despite herself.
"They don't have cities like this in Kansas," Dorothy said as she helped Elphaba over to an awaiting carriage. "How lucky you all are to have such a marvelous place."
The witch was tempted to reason that focusing on something's good qualities can leave people blinded to its faults or corruptions (and vice versa, as she well knew). But instead, she helped Dorothy up into the buggy and reached into her messenger bag to the small change purse she kept hidden at the bottom. She dumped everything out onto her white hand, carefully counting to make sure she had enough to pay the driver, before handing him everything she had. Considering it was all she had, it wasn't much, but still plenty more coins than were necessary for a carriage ride into the city and the man looked at her oddly.
"I need you to take us to the Palace quickly," Elphaba quietly explained. "Drop my companions off somewhere nearby there where they can clean themselves up for the Wizard, then bring me to where I can find Glinda Upland."
"Certainly madam," the driver said, and he gave her a hand up into the buggy.
He seemed pleased with the amount of money that Elphaba gave him, for he heeded her request to hurry but still provided Dorothy, Boq and the Lion, who had all obviously never been to the Emerald City before, an informative tourist commentary. During an occasional break in his narration, Elphaba would fill in and tell the group about the histories of many of the old buildings that she had read about or tales involving creatures like the rare color-changing horse that was pulling the coach they were riding in (which Dorothy couldn't take her eyes off, for every few moments it would transform into another beautiful hue).
But after a while Elphaba gave up her stories, because the farther they rode into Oz's grand metropolis, the more of the celebratory nightlife's leftovers were strewn. Streamers of black and green littered the streets and sidewalks, confetti continued to float and flitter between raindrops, and drunken partiers still stumbled about, singing profane songs about the death of the evil Wicked Witch of the West. She tried so hard to be even a little happy for everyone, to share even the slightest bit of their joy, but every time she passed by another crowded pub and heard a different tune and verse of the same festive yet malicious song, a deep, familiar darkness would fill her heart. Every ounce of whatever contentedness she felt in walking into the Ozians' great city dissipated, and she knew she hated them all.
Dorothy, who was sitting across from Elphaba in the small, cushy cab, seemed to notice as the woman fell further and further forward in her seat, clutching herself and staring at the floor. The girl reached her hand out and placed it on the witch's shoulder reassuringly, but as Elphaba looked up at Dorothy's kind and innocent face, she was so miserable and angry she couldn't even spare the ghost of a smile.
The Tin Man, on their lengthy ride, had started to pick up on the many songs defaming the supposed late terrorist and sang them merrily and mercilessly. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to use her powers to weld Boq's jaw shut, even as he began his fifth rendition of "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!" Instead, she shot him her most vicious glare, which did quiet the Munchkin briefly, only to be replaced with the nervous sound of vibrating metal.
She shifted, moving her broomstick slightly farther to the side so she wasn't sitting on it but still so it was hidden under the long black material she wrapped carefully around herself, and sighed. After walking for hours on her leg, at first it felt great resting it in the cabin of the carriage, but it was so confined she was unable to stretch it the hour or so it took to get to the Palace and the muscles began cramping painfully. Also, her weariness was not only fogging her usually sharp mind but it also made it feel as though she had an onerous heaviness slung across her shoulders, weighing her down. Even the simplest action of breathing became ever more difficult, as though twice as much energy was required to make up for her lack of it.
What hurt the most, though, what really hurt, was that so much had been wasted: tragically beautiful Nessarose, Dr. Dillamond's work and sacrifices, sweet and gentle Fiyero…even herself, her own life. She felt she was the only one who cared at all, the only one who carried around the burden of grief and loneliness. While Glinda also clearly cared, she spent her days leading the celebrations. Elphaba couldn't help but suspect that whatever the Good Witch was feeling in her heart would have gotten lost with all the confusion and pretending that poor Glinda was forced to contend with. Maybe that was for the best.
After a while, the bright green of every building and wall made her queasy. Every time she looked away, however, she was faced with even more of the bold emerald. Was this sickening feeling what people experienced when they used to look upon her? Was that the reason Frex had scowled so whenever she had been near him? Why her sister always turned her eyes away, ashamed?
Eventually she just turned up to look at the gray sky, allowing the light sprinkling of rain to hit her new skin and shower away her despair. This storm had been there from the moment her heart first started breaking, symbolizing the chaos that muddled her mind and her heart. Though she knew she had not conjured this storm, for she did not have that power and never would, it was her companion in such sorrowful times. She was not alone, and like the storm, eventually the skies would clear for her and she would find peace. And that gave her strength.
The carriage jerked to a stop, and as her head snapped up it registered to her that the driver had continued to speak, even though she long ago had stopped listening. Something about arriving at their destination, please climb out of the carriage carefully…
"You're not coming too?" came a voice, pulling the witch fully from her somnolent reverie. Elphaba turned her dark eyes down to the young girl's wide, naive ones and shook her head.
"No, Dorothy. I need to see Glinda immediately."
"Surely you would want to clean up first and look at least half-presentable before you see Her Goodness?" Boq commented up to Elphaba tactlessly from where he stood at Dorothy's side.
She shot him a dirty look. Even if she did look a little frayed around the edges, she did find it incredibly rude to point it out; luckily for him, she had a high tolerance level when it came to comments to her appearance.
"Even the beastly Lion has the courtesy to do so," he added distastefully.
That, however,she would not stand for, whether she liked the large Cat or not.
As Boq turned his back on her to enter the Wash and Brush Up Co., the witch's hand twitched and he seemed to trip on air and fall to the floor with a loud, banging crash. Elphaba barely managed to suppress a grin.
"As well as you deserve. Shame on you," Dorothy told him, shaking her finger at the metallic man, much to the older woman's satisfaction.
"Why don't you help the Lion get the rest of my flesh out of his nails, dear Tin Man, while you're trying to remove the dirt from your teeth?" Elphaba called to him unsympathetically, gesturing for the driver to get going. She looked down at Dorothy as the cart began rolling forward and said quickly, "Good luck with the Wizard. I hope somehow he will be able to help you. And remember, no matter what the general populace thinks, not everyone is necessarily evil, nor are they always good."
"I will. Goodbye Fae," she called sadly, and Elphaba turned in her seat and didn't look back.