History Rewritten
"Can there be a higher desire than to change the world? (…)
To revise the misshapen, reshape the mistaken, to justify the margins of this
ragged error of a universe?"
Wicked, p. 183
Glinda recovered much more quickly than anyone could have anticipated. Once the fever finally broke, it was all the incentive her body needed to rapidly begin mending. Her cheerful disposition surely helped to facilitate the healing along. She was lively and spirited — a stunning portrait of her former, more amiable self.
Her friends were thrilled and a little surprised to see the transformation. They'd gathered together near her bedside as soon as they'd learned of the news. Nanny and Nessarose were happiest to see her, though the boys were equally as elated. Crope and Tibbett flooded her bed-table with flowers, and Fiyero added his own contribution with a blue Arjikiian orchid.
Elphaba, of course, was the most prominent green fixture that happily adorned her bedside. There was rarely a moment that she wasn't near her, firmly holding her hand.
The infirmary physicians and nursing staff were at a loss to explain how Glinda had survived. After teetering precariously near the brink of death, her recovery was simply unfathomable. She was deemed the building's "living miracle," and those who previously consigned her to death were the most eager to shower her with attention. Many of their kindnesses, however thoughtful they'd been, were largely in thanks to the impromptu arrival of Glinda's ill-tempered father.
He'd taken the earliest train from Frottica and arrived a few hours after Glinda had awoken. The minute he stepped through the infirmary doors, it was clear he wasn't a man to be reckoned with.
"Where is she?" he hollered, grabbing an orderly roughly by the shirt.
"I'm just an orderly attending, sir!" he'd choked back in fear.
Elphaba and her friends stepped out into the hallway to see what the commotion was about. They were just in time to see Glinda's father holding the orderly by the throat.
"You're a damned idiot," he'd angrily snarled before shoving him away. "Where in the hell is my daughter Galinda? Someone answer me this instant!"
Fiyero and Elphaba exchanged looks with each other. Boq fingered the tie around his neck.
"Her father?" said Crope with a raised eyebrow.
"Good hell, I hope not," muttered Avaric.
"He's very tall," said Shenshen coyly.
"Rather handsome, you mean," Milla teased.
"Nice to see that a spirited disposition runs in the family," added Tibbett. "Who do you think the charming brute is liable to shoot first?"
"Probably Fiyero," said Avaric, grinning. "He does have the look of a raping foreigner."
"If I go down, I'm taking you with me, you sick son-of-a-bitch," he replied.
"What do you know about him, Elphie?" asked Boq.
But Elphaba knew little about Glinda's family, and had nothing to say in reply. It wasn't that Glinda had been unwilling to talk with Elphaba about either of her parents; it was just that Elphaba had never bothered to ask. The subject of family was an unwelcome one, and she'd always done her best to avoid it. But as she observed the striking figure that was charging down the hall, she instantly regretted that she'd never asked Glinda about her father before.
He was a country gentleman; that much was evident. He lacked the smooth and delicate tailoring of the Emerald City classes. But the roughness of his hands and set of his jaw gave him a distinguished masculinity that was pitifully lacking in Oz's society gentlemen. When he arrived at the reception desk and demanded to see his daughter, there wasn't much of the aristocratic touch in his language either. He'd nearly tossed the nurse over her desk when he learned that Glinda was awake and recovering in one of the public rooms.
"A public room?" he'd violently snarled. "Whatever the hell for? Do I look like a pauper? Is my daughter a prostitute? Get her out of that piss-hole this instant before I level this building to the ground!"
The nurse had sternly made it clear that they weren't in the habit of responding to threats. (It should be said, though, that Glinda was moved to a private suite later that day.) Madame Morrible quickly arrived to defuse the situation, adorned with all of her bangles and rings to assert her haughty importance.
He looked just as eager to tear her to pieces, and was wholly unintimidated by her presence.
"Special privileges aren't allotted to anyone," she pompously replied. "I can understand your frustrations, Master Arduenna, but poor economic circumstances require more cost-effective considerations for our infirmary residents."
"Are you rationing out your bed pans now?" he sneered with utter disgust. He reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of bills, never taking his eyes off of her. Before Madame Morrible had time to respond, he tossed them down, messily scattering them all over the hardwood floor. "If money is all you vultures require, then feel free to suck me dry."
A filthy entendre. A lack of manners. Elphaba liked him instantly.
His more abrasive qualities were tempered, however, when he was finally admitted into the room to see Glinda. Her face lit up with a smile that was clearly saved for her father only. He took her tightly in his massive arms and rocked her back and forth. The nurse had planned to bathe and redress her, but he simply wouldn't hear of it. No amount of filth or illness would prevent him from holding his little girl.
Elphaba was moved and a little saddened to witness their touching reunion. When Glinda's father leaned back to look at her, there was nothing but pride and joy shining brightly in his eyes. She turned away from the room's entrance, feeling as though she were intruding. Boq joined her a few seconds later, wearing a thoughtful expression.
Glinda's mother was supposedly visiting some acquaintance in Wiccasand Turning. Her father didn't bother to send word with a messenger; he just up and boarded the earliest train. Elphaba guessed that of the two relations, her mother had been largely responsible for Glinda's practiced and refined mannerisms. Her fire and anger were all her father's, including that slightly overbearing sense of reckless determination. But she had to admit that it suited Glinda well. Particularly in the bedroom, Elphaba thought with a blush. And if her mother were half so handsome as her father was, there was clearly enough genetic perfection to pass down the line.
When the nurses consented to move Glinda into a private room, they firmly insisted that they be given time to properly bathe and dress her. Everyone waited out in the hall, and her father stood near Glinda's doorway like a tall, menacing sentinel. He barely glanced in Elphaba's direction, or even towards Nessarose. His gaze was fixed on her male companions, passing over every one of them with a fierce, mistrusting eye. He settled eventually on Crope and Tibbett, and his expression turned from stern and accusing to narrow-eyed uncertainty.
"Anyone fixed for tea?" said Nanny, oblivious to all of the tension. "The stuff in here is rather vile. I'd be happy to send some proper stuff up from the Crage Hall kitchens."
"That would be lovely," Milla responded. "We'd be happy to accompany you, Nanny."
The girls followed her out of the building, leaving the boys standing idly in the hall with nervous looks on their faces. Elphaba smirked at their obvious discomfort and tried desperately not to laugh at them.
"I take it you're Miss Elphaba Thropp," said Glinda's father suddenly. She turned and saw him staring at her, frankly and without apology.
"The Third Descending," she candidly replied, hands clasped in front of her.
"Galinda has written about you before," he said with an inquisitive stare. "Her very reluctant roommate from last year. Rather bookish, if I'm not mistaken. Fixed to be the next Eminence of Munchkinland… is that right?"
"Unless green doesn't match the décor of the palace at Colwen Grounds," she stated.
His mouth turned up into something of a smirk. She'd actually managed to impress him.
"If the world doesn't fit you, Miss Elphaba Thropp, then I suggest you make it. Only fools settle for less than what they're capable of getting."
"Words to live by," she said with a smile. "I'll do my best to remember them."
He briefly turned to look down the hallway, then took another step closer to her. "So," he said in a lower voice, "which of these smirking bastards here has been making eyes at my daughter?"
Elphaba couldn't keep a straight face. "Oh, I'd say just about all of them…"
Glinda's father stayed with her for the remainder of her hospital duration, which wasn't very long. After several days of careful monitoring, the nurses consented to release her under the provision that she get plenty of bed-rest, fluids, and warmth. Nanny assured them that all would be well and she'd take excellent care of Miss Glinda. He thanked her warmly for her kindnesses, particularly after his depressing visit to the bedside of Ama Clutch. Before then, Glinda's father was oblivious to the serious nature of her condition. She was tied down to the bed with cloth restraints and had barely even recognized him.
But his parting words to Glinda were warm and lovingly affectionate; an interesting contrast to the man who had individually threatened the lives of her male companions. Glinda looked pained but slightly relieved to be free of his constant supervision. She kissed his cheek and held him close, grateful he had come to be with her.
To Elphaba, he invoked a solemn promise to keep an eye on Glinda. He wasn't pleased to learn that she'd gone wandering off during the middle of the night. There was never a suitable explanation given, apart from the odds that it was a case of atypical somnambulism. He didn't believe that for a single instant, but there wasn't much left to be done about it.
"Please look after her," he'd muttered quietly, taking Elphaba aside. "My daughter is good at hiding things from me, and I don't know what this is about."
"Believe me, sir," said Elphaba earnestly, "I'm not letting her out of my sight."
He was kind enough to offer her his hand, which Elphaba graciously accepted. "Take care of yourself as well, Miss Thropp. No doubt we'll meet again."
Within the hour after he'd left and before she was set to leave the infirmary, Glinda's friends surprised her by planning a celebration at the Peach and Kidneys. Nanny initially balked at the suggestion of exposing her to all that activity, but her protests were effectively squashed when Nessa insisted they mark the occasion. Wine would be substituted for fruity compotes, and promises were made that Glinda would be back well before her bedtime. Milla and Shenshen even insisted on coming to style her hair and make-up.
Elphaba scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all, even if she was secretly thrilled to see her roommate so happy. There was still a silly part of Glinda that enjoyed the ultra-feminine simplicities of fashion and other fripperies. The girls laughed and prattled on like they'd never been separated at all. Once they were finished, they escorted Glinda out and into the frosty daylight.
Glinda was still very weak, though her complexion was brilliant. Her hair was tied back with a simple ribbon and she looked perfectly stunning. Their friends were gathered on the lawn outside and they greeted her with enthusiastic applause. Crope and Tibbett insisted on taking her arms, and Boq looked excessively annoyed.
"You've had her plenty, you dastardly fiends," said Crope to Elphie and Boq. "Miss Glinda is going to be our date tonight. We weren't simultaneously threatened by her father with forcible castration for nothing!"
Glinda blushed and attempted to apologize for her father's brutish behavior, but they laughed it off quite cheerfully in obviously high spirits.
"It might improve our chances to become castratos with the Barissian Opera," Tibbett offered.
They arrived at the Peach and Kidneys at a quarter after five. Glinda was utterly taken aback when she saw a table reserved for their party, covered with small tear drop candles and beautiful orange daylilies. "Don't look at me," said Avaric roguishly when Elphaba shot him a look. He gestured in Crope and Tibbett's direction, and they smiled shamelessly at Elphaba. "Much as I adore Miss Glinda, I don't normally go to such romantic gestures to win the attentions of lady."
"Neither do we," said Tibbett with a wink. "Unless the lady is Miss Glinda."
Yet despite Avaric's rude assurances that he was a heartless rake, he graciously treated their party to an exquisite salver of saffron cream. Crope and Tibbett insisted on sitting on either side of Glinda, vexing Boq to the point of rage with all their flirtations towards her. They spent the evening making her laugh with scandalous remarks and creamy kisses all over her blushing cheeks. When Boq had finally had enough, he slammed his hand on top of the table and started yelling at them both. Milla and Shenshen promptly retaliated by kissing Boq themselves. Fiyero and Avaric laughed at them all, and ordered a round of beer.
When Elphaba attempted to help her sister take a sip of her drink, Nessa insisted she could do it herself and shooed Elphaba away. She grabbed the cup with the front of her teeth and slowly tipped it back. Half of its contents poured into her mouth and the other down her dress. She shrieked when the chill of the liquid touched the most delicate parts of her skin, and Elphaba decided to complete the picture by adding a dollop of cream.
Their table burst into hoots and hollers while Nanny fretted with her dress. They all decided to try it themselves, and soon, the table was a mess.
Glinda laughed with genuine humor and her eyes sparkled brilliantly. It was the first time in far too long that she truly and genuinely seemed happy. Elphaba watched her with a small smile, quietly and hopelessly adoring her. Glinda would occasionally meet her eye with a look that was only for Elphaba.
It was rowdy, boisterous, and a little bit wonderful.
A highly charmed affair.
Glinda was practically half-asleep by the time they returned to Crage Hall. It was still early, even for a school night, but her weakened condition drained her energy much more quickly than normal. The group walked carefully up the inner staircase with Glinda still favoring her right foot. It was recommended that her sprain stay compressed for at least another week. Elphaba shouldered most of her weight and kept an arm around her.
Boq had gallantly (though drunkenly) offered to carry her up there himself. Elphaba suggested that he try seducing Avaric, then left him outside on the lawn. Shenshen and Milla had already bid them goodnight, heading off in the opposite direction. No doubt they had plans to return to the boys, and this time without a chaperone.
Nanny, Nessa, Elphaba and Glinda headed quietly down the corridor. Glinda leaned heavily against Elphaba's frame, resting her head on her shoulder. Elphaba's hold was firm and strong, though having Glinda pressed against her so closely caused her to tremble a little. She handed her key over to Nanny, and Nanny unlocked their door.
"Here we are!" she said enthusiastically, turning up the lights. "Everything's here, just as you left it. Even those dust balls in the corner. Elphie, why don't you get a fire going while I help our Glindy undress."
"I'll be fine, Nanny," said Glinda with a sigh that sounded more like a yawn. "Just lead me over to the sink, would you dear? I can easily undress myself."
"A fair hope, but I'm not having it. You look like you're ready to fall over."
"Oh, do stop fussing over her, Nanny, and give the girl some room," said Nessa. "She's just a little tired is all, and honestly, who can blame her? Those idiots kept her out too late."
"Yes, just as I'd feared," Nanny sighed. "Well, rinse out your mouth and get dressed for bed, Glindy. I'll fix up your bed in the meantime."
Elphaba walked over to Glinda's dresser and retrieved a warm nightgown from out of the drawer. She held it up to Glinda for approval, and Glinda shrugged her shoulders. "You could wrap me in a burlap sack and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference."
"I guess that means I'll have to save you from your weakened sensibilities," Elphaba smirked. She wrapped her arm around Glinda again and walked her over to their washroom. She pushed the door open and lit the gaslights, quickly surveying the interior. Once she was sure that all was well, she turned to Glinda and warmly took her face in both of her hands.
"Will you be alright?" said Elphaba softly.
"Yes," she said, smiling. "Thank you, Elphie."
Elphaba nodded and shut the door to give Glinda her privacy.
Nanny was fluffing the pillows on Glinda's bed and had folded her blankets back. Elphaba was about to tell her that that was unnecessary before she realized the inappropriateness of the comment.
"Heavens to bits," said Nanny, grumbling. "These sheets are all starched and stiff. It must feel like an age since Glinda's been able to sleep in her own bed."
Elphaba didn't know how to respond, so she set to work lighting the fire. It had been well over a month since Glinda had gone anywhere near her bed.
"Elphaba?" Nessa calmly spoke up once the fire was blazing. "Might I have a minute of your time?"
"I doubt it will be a minute."
She smirked cheekily up at her sister, and Nessa lightly shoved her with her foot. They walked out into the empty hallway and shut the door behind them, chiefly to give them privacy and prevent Nanny from listening. Nessa looked down both sides of the corridor, then stepped closer to Elphaba.
"So what did the doctor say?" she asked, getting straight to the particulars.
"Her blood-work is healthy and her vitals looked good. If she takes it easy for the next few weeks, they expect a full recovery."
Nessa slowly nodded her head. "And what about the rest?"
"Nothing," said Elphaba a bit more hesitantly, "at least nothing suspicious. Glinda happens to be slightly anemic, but that's not the same thing as finding foreign poisons floating in her blood."
Her sister pursed her lips together. "So I guess your cure worked then."
It must have been difficult to hide her resentment, but Nessa managed it rather well. When Elphaba told her several days ago about the organic compound, her sister was obviously upset with her, especially when Elphaba mentioned the part where she'd up and left town. But the unsteady truce they had come to since the infirmary forced Nessa to stay her criticisms. All she could do was sigh deeply and grudgingly accept the situation.
"Have you spoken to her about that night?" Nessa quietly continued.
"I haven't had time," said Elphaba flatly. "There's a lot we need to discuss."
"What did she tell her father and the doctors?"
"That she doesn't remember anything."
The door opened and both girls turned just as Nanny appeared behind it. She crept stealthily out into the hall before partially closing the door behind her.
"Bless the little angel," she whispered. "Lurline has given us all a miracle now that our Glinda is home."
"Is she alright?" said Elphaba anxiously, suddenly desperate to see her.
"She's fast asleep. The dear thing couldn't keep her eyes open. Try not to wake her when you go back in, dove. Nessie? Are we ready for bed?"
"Just another minute, Nanny; I'll be in with you shortly. And could you please leave the door ajar so I can let myself back in?"
Nanny kindly obliged her charge and slipped into their bedroom. As soon as the door creaked back on its hinges, Nessa turned to Elphaba again with a far more serious expression.
"So what happens now?" she anxiously asked. "Does Morrible know she's cured?"
Elphaba's jaw clenched in reflex. "I don't know what she knows."
"But you must have a plan. Something has to be done. Morrible is still a danger."
"I know that, Nessa!" she hissed in frustration. "Good hell, do you think I'm stupid?"
Nessa winced at the force of her anger, and her expression became apologetic. "I'm sorry," she said in a quieter voice. "We don't need to discuss this tonight. Go and get some sleep, Elphie. There's a long tomorrow ahead of us." She smiled weakly and kissed Elphaba's cheek before turning back to her room. Elphaba watched her with a heavy heart and a sharp twinge of guilt.
She quietly entered her own bedroom and carefully shut the door. Glinda was sound asleep in her bed, buried beneath several blankets. The firelight played over her tranquil features, highlighting every stunning facet of her perfectly stunning profile. Elphaba desperately wanted to touch her and hold her in her arms. It had been so long... so very long. Her heart ached just at the thought of it. But she would sooner die than wake her again, no matter how great the temptation.
So she grabbed the chair beside her desk and placed it near Glinda's bedside. Elphaba sat silently watching over her, savoring this small moment of calm and knowing that it wouldn't last.
The inevitable morning that was soon to follow was far less pleasant for Elphaba. Much to her outright shock and confusion, Glinda didn't have an explanation for what had happened the night she'd fled. She remembered nothing beyond the antique bottle and the curious sensation she had experienced upon drinking its milky contents. After that, all was darkness—a muddled fog of imprecise memories and hazy physical impressions. She only vaguely recalled being held by a man in the pale hours before sunrise.
"I'm sorry, Elphaba," she said sincerely. "I don't understand what happened to me. Perhaps it was an effect of the draft— a lapsed but active state of consciousness?"
It seemed a fair conclusion, if not a little odd. What in the hell could Yackle have given her to cause such an unusual side-effect? But a thought more unsettling suddenly occurred to Elphaba, and its implications were fairly devastating.
"You don't remember anything?" she asked, her eyes searching Glinda's intensely.
But Glinda only shook her head; a perfect picture of innocence.
Well. That was all that Glinda could say to render Elphaba speechless. Several thoughts were racing through her mind, but she couldn't give voice to any of them. All things considered, what could she say? You might have missed that small moment where I ravaged you multiple times in my bed? The very idea was utterly mortifying, and she didn't know how to make sense of it.
Perhaps the most disturbing thought was that Glinda was completely out of her senses when any of this had happened. How was Elphaba supposed to respond to that? What would Glinda do if she told her? Not knowing what had prompted her to wander for hours in a storm was one thing, but to speak unconsciously of desire and love was something entirely different. They had shared so much in those silent hours… more than just a clumsy engagement of mouths, bodies, and hands. Glinda had offered her everything that night, and Elphaba had eagerly accepted it. So how in the name of blessed Lurline could Elphaba hope to convey that to her friend? They had come together in one powerful moment, and Glinda didn't remember a bit of it.
So Elphaba said nothing, believing her silence would ultimately be for the best. But the pain it caused her was beyond comparison and left Elphaba with the uneasy feeling that it was somehow an act of violation. She knew every inch of the girl before her— every detail as fine and intimate as the mole at the base of Glinda's spine. Would Glinda forgive her if she knew what had happened? Would she have been pleased or mortified? If Elphaba could be certain that Glinda's feelings were as genuine as they felt, she could have cheerfully carried on, even if Glinda had forgotten that night. But there was no way of knowing what Glinda felt, or if she even suspected what had happened. All Elphaba could do was silently watch her, pondering everything that they'd lost.
For her part, Glinda carried along as if she were perfectly at ease. She never betrayed a deeper inclination that extended beyond affection for Elphaba. They still walked arm-in-arm together, often with Glinda's head leaning against Elphaba's shoulder. They would laugh and constantly tease each other, but the intensity was gone. Elphaba wondered if she had somehow mistaken fear for searing passion. Dread and terror could appear quite romantic if the circumstances were dire enough. Yet there were times when Elphaba swore she saw something in Glinda's smile. It was only when Elphaba wasn't looking at her, or at least when Glinda thought she wasn't.
But beyond that, it was a companionable friendship steeped in warm formalities. Glinda now slept in her own bed, and Elphaba tried her best to pretend that it didn't deeply wound her.
With their friends, however, Glinda was as lovely and charming as she'd ever been. She smiled at the boys and chatted with the girls, never in dull spirits. Boq's interest was quickly rekindled, and he took every opportunity he had to woo and charm her once again. Glinda hadn't exactly encouraged him, but Elphaba felt like she wasn't doing enough to discourage the boy either.
It was impossible to be cross with her, though. She seemed so carefree and happy. A heavy burden had been removed from her shoulders, and she was finally allowed to breathe safely again. They spent long afternoons at the Rose Gardens in town or other places around Shiz. The boys were always game for fun, and the girls had difficulty keeping up with them.
It wasn't ideal, but Glinda was happy, which was all that mattered in the end. And so, at least for the time being, Elphaba was content.
But forever at the back of Elphaba's mind was the little matter of Ama Clutch.
Elphaba still had questions about the cure and how it might affect the old woman. Buried inside the depths of her sock drawer was the second bottle Yackle had given her on her visit to Tarkington. She'd examined the contents several times, and was certain it was the same substance that Glinda had been given.
Throughout the duration of Glinda's illness, Elphaba didn't dare to try the cure on Ama Clutch. She still didn't know what properties it contained or the nature of its effects. But when Glinda was given a clean bill of health, there weren't many excuses left for Elphaba to delay the administration. So she visited the infirmary, just like she had on several hundred occasions.
The nurse permitted Elphaba to feed Ama Clutch her breakfast. She had approved of this many times before as Elphaba visited regularly. She thanked the nurse and carried the tray into Ama Clutch's room. She tried to act as nonchalant as her nerves permitted her.
When she was certain that no one else was looking, she mixed the solution into the porridge and ladled it into her Ama's mouth. Glinda mentioned that the draft held a pleasant and inoffensive taste, so Elphaba hoped Ama Clutch would consume it with as little protest as possible. She ate it all without any fuss, and even seemed to enjoy it. After she finished, Elphaba took the tray away and left Ama resting on the bed.
She was grateful the nurses were tying her down. At least there was little chance she could wander off into a pelting rainstorm. She bid farewell to the nurse once more and headed off to her classes.
A day went by. Elphaba waited patiently for word from the infirmary. Some small announcement sent from the staff, letting them know that their minder was improving. But as the days came and went, it soon became evident that something had gone wrong. She wondered if the solution's effects were diluted by the porridge.
A few days later, Elphaba returned after her history lecture. She needed to know what was going on, for better or for worse. When she entered the building, she walked immediately up to the nurse at the front desk. The nurse looked a little shocked to see her, and became very ill at ease.
"This isn't a good time," she said, setting her tea aside. "The dear has become completely incoherent, and her episodes are worse than before."
But Elphaba insisted that she had to see her, so the nurse begrudgingly consented.
They had moved Ama Clutch into an empty room once her crazed hysterics became too much for the infirmary's other patients. It was located in a more isolated area in the darkest section of the building. Elphaba heard cackling and terrible singing as she slowly approached the doorway.
When she finally walked in, she saw Ama Clutch jerking and twisting under the restraints. Her eyes were bulging out of her skull. She was foaming at the corners of her mouth. She turned when she heard Elphaba enter the room, and let out a demented howl.
"Well here's the coroner who's likely come to thoroughly examine her!" she cackled. "Grab a chair then, plucky thing! I'll sing you a little song! But she's not merely dead, sweet nail. Oh, no! We're sure of that! She's really most sincerely dead; if that's the way she'll have it!"
"Hello Ama," said Elphaba calmly. "How are you feeling today?"
"You should know, you cunning bitch. The secret's in the porridge!" She laughed and twisted in the leather straps as sweat poured down her face. Elphaba stepped a little closer, but kept a careful distance.
"You know what I gave you?" she quietly asked, looking into her eyes.
"Good hell you beast, of course I do! A tasty little milky thrill to get me right and randy! What thoughts for someone as old as mud to be having of Mr. Pillow." She turned and nuzzled the cushion beneath her, damp and stained with her illness. "Oh, the stories these sheets could tell, you naughty little bastard! Whisper more sweet nothings, love, and I'll fluff you good and proper."
"Ama," said Elphaba, embarrassed and frustrated, "I slipped you a cure in the porridge."
"That?" she said with hearty laughter. "Oh, that weren't no cure, my dearie. I suspect you've been hoodwinked by a naughty old crone who's flung it all topsy-turvy! But here," said Ama with a clever wink, "I know all her secrets. I saw the world that was meant to be and every wicked wonder. See it here! I even saw you in all your fiendish glory! You kindly fucked the married man and melted straight to the floor!" She started cackling with demented glee, and writhed on top of the blankets. What little flesh was left on her bones was bleeding against the restraints.
"Ama," said Elphaba, turning frantic, "I don't understand what you mean. What on earth has this done to you? Tell me what you've seen."
"The Other Land," she said to the ceiling, smiling with half-crazed horror. "A grim window to that other story so nearly like our own. Bawdy stuff, and filled with death. But I think we'll soon forget it. La! And be thankful that you'll never see it, Miss Wicked Witch of the West!"
Elphaba was at a loss for words. Her fear and confusion were palpable. "You're not poisoned," she said stupidly.
"Oh, I'm poisoned all right. Hexes, curses, clockworks and compounds… bless it, they're all the same."
"I don't understand," said Elphaba helplessly, holding her head in her hands.
"I don't suppose you will," she sighed, craning her neck at angle. "It's not your story anymore, my dear. The floods have passed you by."
"Story?" said Elphaba. "What do you mean?"
"Just what I said, you villain. It all belongs to her this time... the Mad old Witch of the North. But what will they call you now, Miss Elphie? What of the wonderful Wicked Witch that never is or was? My pretty nail hopes that you'll save him for a very noble purpose. Rebuild it all with bolts and bricks and mortar most refined! Lead on, lead on till the bastards burn and the sun declares to rise!
"But it's all the same for little old me, my green and lovely Elphaba. I'm going to die in either story, so hell… go out and celebrate."
Ama Clutch was still giggling, but tears were running down her face. Her eyes were hollow—completely vacant. There was nothing of the old woman left.
Elphaba didn't know what to say. Her blood had suddenly turned colder. She slowly pressed her Ama's hand, then carefully let go of it.
She turned and began walking out of the room, too frightened and unnerved to look back. All the while the laughter continued, wracked with occasional sobs. "DING DONG!" her Ama shouted. "THE WICKED WITCH IS DEAD!" Elphaba passed through the narrow doorway, and a tall shadow drifted near her.
She turned abruptly and saw Madame Morrible standing beside the door. The Headmistress smiled down at Elphaba, and her neck ballooned like a fish. "And here's Miss Elphaba," said Morrible lightly. "My dear, you don't disappoint. How kind of you to check up on your favorite invalid, now that Miss Glinda has recovered."
Elphaba's gaze formed into ice, hot and cool all once. "You think you've won," she whispered coldly, "but I know you're sadistic game. And you're not going to get away with it, Madame. I can promise you that."
Morrible dropped all forms of pretense as her face twisted into a grimace. She cracked the knuckles of her right hand in front of her by grasping them tightly together. "Do you know what your problem is, Miss Elphaba? You can never see the bigger picture. You're tied up in details so small and insignificant that you can't see the scope of the masterpiece. Nothing is ever quite as simple as you'd like to believe it to be. This world isn't shades of black and white, Elphaba. Sometimes it's deathly green."
Her painted lips puckered slightly, just as she lifted her chin. Morrible turned and walked away from Elphaba with Ama Clutch's screams to accompany her.
"I think we should leave," said Elphaba nervously, pacing the floor near their beds. The clock on their mantle chimed the hour, and Elphaba was growing anxious. Her recent meeting with Ama Clutch and Morrible had put her into a dreadful state. She worried her fingers tightly together as she quickly continued to pace.
Glinda was stretched out on the chaise lounge near the fire, quietly engrossed with a sorcery book. She was unusually devoted to her studies of late, and failed to notice Elphaba's demeanor.
"Mmmm?" said Glinda without looking up. "Did you want to go down to the buttery?"
"Not that," said Elphaba, entirely distracted. "I mean leave this place entirely."
Glinda smirked while casually turning another page in her book. "Bored on a Wednesday evening, darling? That's not like the Elphie I know. Aren't you meant to be studying something that's very important and dull?"
"We can't stay here," Elphaba insisted, less to Glinda than to herself.
"We can if I trap you, which I've obviously done in my weak and helpless condition. Poor Elphie… you must be going stir-crazy. Would you like to go for a walk? I should really take you out on the town, but I must confess that I don't feel like sharing you with anyone else at the moment."
"Glinda," said Elphaba with mounting frustration. "We can't stay here... at this school…in this town. It's not safe for us here anymore." She turned away and started pacing again while sliding her fingers together. "Morrible is planning something… I know it. I can feel it. And I won't be calm until we've gone and left this place for good."
Glinda set her book aside, giving Elphaba her full attention. "You want to leave Shiz?" she calmly asked, folding her arms on the back of the chaise and resting her chin on top of them.
"It's the only way we'll be safe," said Elphaba. "I want to leave tonight."
"I think you're being serious," said Glinda.
"I think I am as well," she replied.
Glinda studied her with a thoughtful expression, then straightened up on the cushions. "You're upset. I can see that. Come here and sit with me. Let's talk about this, Elphaba."
Elphaba obeyed and sat down beside her. Glinda took her hand.
"I've been thinking about the Emerald City as a possible alternative," said Elphaba. "We could take a third-class coach to the city— gain an audience with the Wizard."
"The Wizard?"
Elphaba nodded. "I could take Dillamond's research with me. We could travel right up to the palace. We'll meet the great and terrible Wizard and explain everything that's been going on. Murder… intrigue… a school led by corrupted officials… and best of all, proof that Doctor Dillamond's theories might actually have some merit. These are truths he can't ignore. We'll force him to do something about them."
Glinda stared intently at her. "What if he did nothing at all?"
Elphaba regarded her somewhat darkly, her lips curled at the edge. "You think he's that corrupt, my dear?"
Glinda shrugged her shoulders. "You've never thought well of him before, Elphaba. Why would you trust him now?"
"It's not a question of trust, Glinda; it's a question of authority. He has the power to change things in Oz whether I like it or not. If you can't respect a fraudulent leader, you at least have to respect their ability to influence the actions and opinions of others. He could be a formidable foe or a powerful ally, and it's in our best interest to know where he stands."
They sat like that for a moment in silence. Glinda curled up on the chair. "Then what becomes of us?" she said, turning towards the fire. "What if the Wizard ignores your pleas or threatens something worse? Do we just keep running? Do we go into hiding? Do we take up with a band of insurgents?"
"Don't be foolish," said Elphaba tersely, though she wasn't looking at Glinda. "I would never endanger you like that."
"I never thought you would, Elphie, but you still haven't answered my question."
"Look," said Elphaba, grasping Glinda's arm. "We'll worry about all of this later. The important thing is that we leave here now while we're still relatively in one piece. It doesn't matter where we go, Glinda; we just have to get the hell out of here."
Glinda's gaze fell to her lap. "What of Ama Clutch?"
Elphaba exhaled and stared into the flames. "She's beyond our ability to help anymore."
"Then what about Nanny and Nessarose? Could you abandon them as well?"
"They'll understand," said Elphaba curtly with much more conviction than she felt.
"Elphie," said Glinda, her voice firm and even, "things aren't as simple as that. Who do you think that Morrible will turn on if you or I were to leave? She would quickly come after our friends and family; she's already done it before. What better way could she possibly hurt us, and you know she would. Leaving now might keep us safe, but it isn't solving our problem."
"Keeping you safe is my problem," Elphaba angrily replied.
"By endangering the lives of others in the process? Elphaba, no one is worth that."
"Well what do you suggest we do?" said Elphaba, getting angrier. "Just sit here for the rest of the year while that murderous bitch continues to conspire to ruin both of our lives? It isn't happening! I'd sooner die. Hell and Oz, I'd just as soon as poison you myself! I won't live under that woman's shadow, do you hear me? I won't do it, Glinda."
Glinda sat back and stared at the flames flickering against the grate. She didn't seem terribly affected by Elphaba's anger. Her mood was much more contemplative.
Considering all that Glinda had been through, Elphaba was actually surprised to find her so indifferent about Madame Morrible. The terrified girl haunted by nightmares had retreated somewhere beneath the surface of her porcelain skin. She realized, perhaps, that she was asking too much of Glinda- at least for the time being. Her friend had just gotten her life back together; why would she ruin it on a whim?
Besides, their Headmistress had yet to make a move, which meant that Glinda could happily carry on in semi-blissful ignorance. Laughing… smiling… and casually entertaining flirtations from Boq and his friends.
Elphaba winced when she caught herself thinking so callous and resentful a thought. That isn't fair. You're making this personal. So what if she broke your heart?
Glinda finally turned to look at her, and something in her expression had changed. "I know that, Elphie," she whispered softly, "and I'm not going to ask you to do that. But I do want you to promise me something, because I know you'll keep it."
Elphaba slowly arched an eyebrow. Glinda took her hand again. "Promise me that you won't give up on the people we love and care about."
Elphaba leaned back on the cushions of the chair. "You're asking me to stay."
"I'm asking you to open your eyes and look around you, Elphaba. Everything you've ever wanted is right here in front of you. If you've taught me anything, and you've taught me plenty, it's that there are things in this world worth fighting for. If we start running now, we'll be running forever. Better to stand our ground."
"Are you actually suggesting that we stay at this school and fight this battle head on?"
"I'm saying you can change the world, Elphie, and you don't have to do it alone. You can't trust the Wizard; you've already admitted that. So why not trust someone who is far more deserving?"
Elphaba's lips formed into a snarl, and she flung Glinda's hand away from her. "Oh no you don't," she said with a sneer, getting up off the seat. "I know exactly where this is going, Glinda, and we are not going to have this argument!"
Glinda stood up and reached for her hand, gently pulling her closer. "We're not arguing," she softly replied. "I'm just asking you a question."
"Did Boq put you up to this?" said Elphaba spitefully. "Did he casually let it slip while he was reading you poetry by moonlight?"
"Boq didn't put me up to anything," said Glinda, refusing to let Elphaba offend her. "I asked because I wanted to know, and I think my question has merit. Our friends have stood by us through thick-and-thin, Elphie— don't they deserve a chance to prove themselves to you?"
Elphaba got right up in Glinda's face, her expression a menacing scowl. "Do you honestly think I'd be willing to jeopardize the lives of any of those fools? Would I ever be able to forgive myself if something horrible were to befall them? I've already lost Dr. Dillamond, Glinda, and that was sufficient enough. Better to ally with twisted men that have no names or faces. The losses that are sure to come are far less painful to deal with."
Glinda regarded her with a mixture of pity and something resembling remorse. "Loss is a part of life, Elphaba. I'm afraid you can't get around that. People live and die each day without ever accomplishing anything. Do you think Dr. Dillamond would have stopped his research if he knew that his life was in danger? Or did he believe that his cause was worthy of something greater than himself? If sacrifice is inevitable, Elphaba, then why can't we turn this tragedy into something that's actually meaningful?"
She took Elphaba's face in her hands, willing Elphaba to look at her. "This isn't just our battle anymore. Give your friends a chance."
Elphaba bowed her head in distress, unable to fight Glinda's pull. "I can't," said Elphaba, her voice trembling. "I can't do it, Glinda."
Glinda brought them closer together. "Promise me, Elphaba. Say it."
"I love them," she muttered, utterly defeated.
"Then let them love you back."
They looked at each other in the flickering firelight. Elphaba knew she had lost. She breathed deeply and stared down at Glinda. "Alright," she whispered, "I promise."
Glinda's lips turned up at the corners and her eyes glistened with light. She slowly settled against Elphaba's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her. It had been far too long since she'd held her like this, and it was more than Elphaba could handle. She cautiously slipped her arms around Glinda and held her as tight as she dared. Love was a very irksome thing, and she wasn't sure she approved of it.
"It's still early," Elphaba whispered. "We can go for a walk if you'd like."
"Let's just stay in," said Glinda quietly. "It's a little too cold tonight."
Elphaba was settled under her covers, resting her head in her hands. She was much more tired than she thought she'd be, but still, her mind wandered.
Midnight blue configurations swirled all over the ceiling. She looked for shapes or intricate patterns within the splotches of paint. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she heard Morrible's words to her, spoken at the infirmary. You can never see the bigger picture…
But what was she meant to see?
She traced a line of significant events back to the morning of Dillamond's murder. But no… no. She had to go further. Further back than she'd cared to look before this mess had started.
From her earliest moments of doubt and reasoning, she'd watched the world turning around her like a giant broken mechanism. Faces, religions, and governments were lies, cloaked in shadows and conspiracies. She set herself apart from them all, believing that the furthest distance would give her the greatest perspective. And yet, perhaps her mistrusting nature had actually narrowed her vision. Was she so determined to see the storm that she missed the winds that carried it? How far could fate stretch its hand to alter an entire history?
Elphaba could never sufficiently determine why she had ever been born. Why the teeth, or why the green skin? Had there been a purpose to any of it at all? But there she was, the living aberration, so she tried to make the best of it. She was a girl with ambition, and Shiz was supposed to offer her a path she could happily follow. Anger. Revolution. The spark of rebellion. It was a flame that constantly burned inside her.
But she didn't anticipate the death of seclusion, wrapped in an impression of love.
Elphaba closed her eyes and breathed in the chill winter air. She had promised Glinda that she would stay. She had vowed not to desert their companions. A foolish decision? Certainly. Why not? Elphaba seemed to be full of them lately. But it wasn't a promise she felt she could regret, not after everything that had happened.
But Madame Morrible…
Elphaba's fingers clenched in her hair; her teeth ground together. Morrible was the thorn that caused her to bleed, and she didn't know how to stop her. Whatever promises she had made to Glinda, Elphaba couldn't live with the woman hovering over their lives. She was certain that Glinda knew this as well, so what was she expecting her to do about it? Commit a murder? Bludgeon the woman while she slept in her monstrous bed? Hide all their friends in some undisclosed location? It all seemed preposterous.
She could try the police, though recent events had proven that they were an incompetent lot. If Morrible was guilty, there was no reason to suspect that justice would be served accordingly. So for the time being, they were stuck where they were, waiting for the Headmistress to make her next move. It made the night just a little bit longer, and the cold a little bit deeper.
Elphaba's thoughts continued to wander when they were interrupted by a small voice on the other side of the room.
"Elphie?"
"What is it?" said Elphaba, turning over to stare at Glinda's back. She didn't realize her roommate was awake. Glinda hadn't made a sound.
"The room's a little cold tonight," Glinda softly whispered.
Elphaba sighed and climbed out of bed, grabbing the extra blanket on top of her. It was a worn old thing that she'd brought from home, but it happened to be Glinda's favorite. She spread it out over Glinda's body buried beneath the blankets.
"Someday, Miss Glinda, you're going to learn the value of practicality over fashion. Quadlings may weave hideous blankets, but at least they keep you warm."
After smoothing and tucking the corners around her, she turned to head back to her bed. A hand reached up and pressed against hers, keeping Elphaba in place.
"I'm still cold," she said quietly, still not looking at Elphaba.
Elphaba stared at her in silent question, then felt her pulse slightly quicken. She swallowed a lump tightly in her throat, then whispered, "Would you like me to light the fire?"
Glinda slid her fingers through Elphaba's. "Just stay with me tonight."
Elphaba nodded and lifted the covers, climbing in next to Glinda. It was much warmer than her own bed had been, but Elphaba wasn't going to argue about it. This was a luxury she had too keenly missed; a joy she'd long been deprived of. Her arms were around Glinda before she could stop herself, and Glinda turned into them instantly. She shivered as Elphaba held her closer, almost as if she were crying.
But Elphaba never felt the sting of tears against her neck. She only felt the warm hands and measured breaths of her friend. Their hearts were beating together once more, and the sensation was entirely overwhelming. Elphaba closed her eyes and smiled.
Maybe there was hope after all.
It was a cold but cloudless winter's day near the end of the semester. The students at Shiz were readying for the holidays, marked by the usual tomfoolery that tended to accompany the winter interlude.
Every year, the campus would descend on the southern provinces for the richly spectacular Festival of Lights. They would ride down in carriages to the beautiful villages lit up with the colors of Lurlinemas. It was an opportunity to shop, dance, and delight in the endless reserves of mulled wine. Everyone on campus had planned on attending, and dozens of carriages had been ordered.
Elphaba and Nanny were preparing for the excursion up in Nessa's room. They were bundling her up in several layers, much to Nessa's vexation.
"You've trussed me up like a goose," she complained, scowling up at Elphaba.
"You'll thank me when the temperature drops and you turn into a self-righteous popsicle. Nanny, pass me that scarf, will you? I think we should also bundle her mouth."
"Oh, ha, ha," said Nessa sarcastically. "I can still kick you, you know."
"I'll keep that in mind when I'm lacing your boots," said Elphaba, smiling devilishly.
Nanny was still fussing around the room, gathering every layer of clothing she could think to wrap around Nessa. "Oh Nanny, please don't bother with that hat," said Nessa with a sigh. "The wool is itchy and makes my ears red. Glinda bought me a nicer one in that hatbox over in the corner."
"This one?" said Nanny, lifting the lid and pulling a beautiful mink cloche out. "Gracious Lurline, how much did this cost?"
"How would I know?" said Nessa, blushing. "What a tacky thing to ask. And speak of the devil, where is Glinda? Isn't she supposed to be getting ready?"
"She's with Shenshen and Milla," said Elphaba flatly, kneeling down to tie Nessa's boots. "No doubt they're powdering and dressing in gowns that are wholly impractical for the weather. But she said she'll meet us down at the gate as soon as the carriages get here."
"I'm surprised she's agreed to all of this foolishness, what with the weather so cold," said Nanny.
"Glinda's health is fine, Nanny. She's tired of being cooped up behind doors."
"Well she didn't look all that hearty this morning when that horrible little tick-tock device dropped off that letter for her. The girl looked so pale and deathly sick, I thought she was going to faint."
Elphaba quickly turned and looked up at her. "What? Do you mean Grommetik?"
Nanny came over and placed the mink hat on top of Nessa's head. "Is that what it's called? The noisy machine that Morrible keeps as a pet? How abnormal. But yes— it wheeled up and gave her the note before we went down to breakfast."
"What did it say?" Nessa cut in, staring down at Elphaba.
"I'm not sure. She looked rather nervy, but she smiled when I approached her. 'Just some family business,' she'd said, but Lurline, was she ever pale. I tell you poppies, that awful little machine gets me all varieties of spooked."
"Nanny," said Elphaba, getting to her feet, "would you mind finishing with Nessa? I'm going to go out and find Glinda."
"Why don't I save you the trouble?" said a voice cheerfully through the doorway.
Everyone turned as Glinda entered the room, curtsying with informal grace. She was dressed in a beautiful forest-green cape with white fur for the trim. "Sorry if I'm intruding, but you left the door open and I decided to invite myself in. Oh Nessarose! You have more layers than a Gillikinese wedding cake! What on earth have they done to you?"
"Thank you, Glinda," said Nessa irritably. "I've been complaining for over an hour."
"Well better to have you grumbling now than when you freeze much later!" said Nanny.
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Glinda smiled. "The bonfires should keep her warm. Is everyone ready? Boq and Avaric are waiting down by the carriages."
"Wonderful," said Nessa, stalking towards the door with Nanny rushing behind her.
"Hold on!" said Nanny, trying to catch up with her. "You forgot your other scarf!"
Glinda chuckled and turned to Elphaba, reaching to take her hand. "Shall we, my dear?"
"After you," she replied, gladly taking her arm.
They followed Nanny and Nessa out, lingering a short distance behind. Elphaba casually brought up the note, but Glinda didn't seem overly concerned about it. "It was just a letter from mother. That's all. She was mad with worry when she found out the business of my recent illness. I'm sure father made matters worse by neglecting to write to her immediately."
"Do they quarrel often?" Elphaba asked.
"Whenever they get the opportunity. How they love and adore each other is quite literally beyond me at times."
"Perhaps it's because they compliment each other," said Elphaba with a smile.
"Yes," said Glinda. "Perhaps it is. One can never tell."
They didn't say anything else to each other as they walked outside towards the gate. Students and Amas were wandering about in every different direction. Carriages were already lined up at the curb, decorated with holly and tinsel. They found Avaric and Boq at the front and waved their hands cheerfully in greeting.
Avaric quickly hopped to the door and opened it up for Nessa.
"Ready to brave the fierce Gillikin wilderness?" he said, observing her layers.
"Master Avaric," said Nessa curtly, "I would be grateful if you'd just shut up." He grinned cheekily as he helped her in, and his hands lingered a bit too long on Nessa's slender torso. Nanny was following close behind and shot him a reproving look.
"I'll take it from here, you wicked upstart," she huffed while climbing in.
Avaric tried his best to look innocent. "Just being a gentleman, m'lady."
Boq was about to walk over to Glinda when Avaric grabbed him by the tie. "No time for gallantry," he said in a rush before shoving him into the carriage. "We're wasting enough time already, so hop to it, man!"
"Dammit Avaric!" yelled Boq from within. "You shoved me on Nessa's lap!"
"You can thank me later," said Avaric merrily. "Miss Elphie? Miss Glinda? Who's next?"
"No thank you, Avaric," said Glinda, smiling. "I'm catching a different coach."
"You're not coming with us?" said Elphaba suddenly, turning towards her in shock.
"I promised Shenshen that I'd go with her and try and smooth things over with Pfannee."
Elphaba hadn't anticipated this event, and her features formed into a scowl. "Oh come on, Glinda— you've got to be joking. Why would you go and abandon me for the idiocies of that mincing harlot? Do you think I can bear the ride with these fools without tossing them out of a window?"
"I honestly expected you to congratulate me," said Glinda. "Haven't you always said that I should try to be the better person?"
"Better doesn't equal irrational. You're entirely too forbearing."
"And you're being cynical," said Glinda reproachfully. "Everyone deserves a second chance. Just look at me, Elphie— where would I be if you'd never forgiven me for my cruelties?"
"The Pink Dormitories?" Elphaba quipped. "Forced to endure the tartish company of sixteen obnoxiously chattering girls along with my miserably green self?"
Glinda clasped a hand to her chest, suddenly looking serious. "Gracious Elphaba... what a tragedy! And pink goes so splendidly with green."
Elphaba tried to glare at her, but she ended up laughing instead. It was just the sort of ridiculous comment that Glinda could get away with. Glinda joined in, laughing prettily as she adjusted Elphaba's scarf.
"Now quit being so grumpy," she said primly, folding it into an attractive knot. "You'll have Boq and the others to keep you company, and plenty of windows to throw them out of should the occasion call for it." She stood back and looked at Elphaba's figure, nodding as if in approval. "There…you look wonderful! And I know the journey will be far more pleasant than you think."
"Maybe," said Elphaba with a wry sort of smile. "But it won't be the same without you."
Glinda's smile twitched at the corner. Something in her gaze grew distant. She stared at Elphaba with a curious expression that was beautiful and almost tragic. But the greater emotion her friend might have felt was lost in the depthless blue of her eyes. Like everything else, it passed by in an instant before it was fully realized.
She reached up and touched Elphaba's cheek with her hand, brushing her thumb against it. The world slowed to a quiet rhythm, matching the pulse under her skin. Before Elphaba knew what was happening, Glinda leaned up and pressed them together, warmly and ardently kissing her. Her lips were soft and every bit as sweet as Elphaba had remembered them.
There weren't many words that could accurately describe what Elphaba felt at that moment. It was the same abyss, the same oblivion they had willingly found together. If ever she wavered from her convictions that she truly lacked a soul, it was at that moment when Glinda held her beneath the setting sun. Something stirred deep inside of her that was more than flesh and blood. She felt it grasping, clenching, and embracing everything in heart.
Glinda pulled back, but kept Elphaba near, still holding her face in her hands. Their foreheads touched, and Glinda murmured, "Hold out if you can." She kissed her again more softly this time, then whispered, "Hold out, my sweet."
Elphaba was speechless, motionless, breathless. She gazed down at Glinda in wonder. For a long moment, nothing else existed.
It might have lasted forever.
Avaric indelicately cleared his throat, eventually breaking the spell. Elphaba turned, a bit out of her senses, then looked back down at Glinda. Glinda smiled and pressed her hands softly before gently letting them go. She took a few steps back from Elphaba, never taking her eyes off her.
Helplessly devoid of thoughts or words, Elphaba hesitantly turned and staggered back in the direction of the carriage. Avaric was waiting next to the door, a look of triumph on his face. There was a definite twinkle in his hazel eyes, and an approving smile on his lips.
"Miss Elphaba," he said with perfect grace, and offered to help her in.
Elphaba smacked his hand away as she climbed up into the carriage. Everyone inside refused to look at each other, which added to the uncomfortable silence. Boq stared stonily out of the window, and Nessa looked perfectly irritated. She rolled her eyes and shook her head when Elphaba sat down beside her. Avaric climbed in and squished next to Boq, playfully wrapping an arm around him. He grinned at his friend with handsome teeth, and Boq looked like he wanted to murder him.
Nanny sighed and took out her knitting, clearly fed up by it all. "I don't see what any of you are chuffed about," she said, matter-of-factly. "Those two have been hard for it since I can remember, and probably a good deal before."
But Elphaba wasn't paying attention to Nanny or anyone else for that matter. She was staring out of the back window, watching Glinda's small figure as it faded off in the distance.