Disclaimer: Shockingly, Wicked still isn't mine.

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!

Chapter Two

Glinda returned about a week later, accompanied by Madam Morrible and an honor guard from the Emerald City… much to the populace of Shiz's excitement. As it was, gossip had been flying, and now someone who had actually been there could verify the reports.

She looked paler, Fiyero thought, and the smile that she graced the crowds with appeared rather pasted on. That wasn't to say that the smiles she reserved for crowds were usually genuine, but they were normally better imitations of the actual article. He was worried.

"Miss Upland has gone through a terrible ordeal, and I ask that you give her her space for the time being," Madam Morrible announced regally.

Everyone had grumbled, but one did not argue with or defy the Headmistress – at least not openly. And Fiyero had no doubt that Glinda would be pestered about recent events soon enough.

Upon seeing Fiyero in the crowd, Glinda's smile wavered a bit, but she quickly hitched it back on her face. He wanted to talk to her, to hear her story, to comfort her – and it looked like she desperately need comforting – but he didn't get the chance, as she went straight to her room and locked the door.

Deciding to be a gentleman, Fiyero went down to dinner, giving her some time to herself. He ate mechanically, not really tasting anything, and only half-hearing the various conversations going on around him.

The next day, Glinda did not appear in any of her classes, nor did she show up in the Hall for meals. That was when Fiyero knew that things were really serious – Glinda had to be quite upset to be willing to forgo appearances.

And, later that evening, he decided that being a gentleman was rather overrated: he wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

With that thought, he went down to the kitchens and coaxed a pot of Gilliken tea and a plate of sandwiches from one of the maids. In Fiyero's (admittedly limited) experience, bribery often worked best when dealing with hysterical females. And since he hadn't seen her in the dining hall, it was likely that she was quite hungry. These in hand, he proceeded to Glinda and Elphaba's dorm room. Balancing them on one hand, he rapped politely at the door.

"Go 'way," a muffled voice said through the door. "I already told you, Pfanee, I don't feel like talking right now."

So Mistress Pfanee had been pestering her, had she?

"I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you," Fiyero said amusedly, "but I am afraid that I am not Miss Pfanee."

"Fiyero?"

"The one and only."

There was no reply, and, after a moment of silence, he added cunningly, "I've got tea and sandwiches… but you only get them if you let me in."

Another pause. Then:

"What types?"

"Open the door and see for yourself."

There was a slightly piqued-sounding sniff – truly, Glinda was the only person he knew who could imbue a simple sniff with so much meaning – and the door was hesitantly opened a crack. From what Fiyero could see, her eyes were tearstained, and her dress slightly crumpled.

"Very well, come in," Glinda said, opening the door further. "But I must apologize for my lack of hospitality in advance; I am not quite up to entertaining, you understand."

He nodded, and, upon entering the room, set the tray down on a small wooden table that he didn't remember seeing before. In fact…

"Glinda, what happened to all of Elphaba's things?"

The bed that had been on the other side of the room was now gone, as were the girl's few possessions.

"They have been removed," Glinda said stiffly. "I think Madam Morrible wants to erase her from Shiz, to act as though she was never a pupil here."

She was sitting stiffly on that poofy-cushioned monstrosity of an armchair, ankles crossed neatly. She was twisting her hands anxiously in her lap, however, in a way that rather reminded Fiyero of his little sister when she had something that she was trying to keep secret.

"So…" Glinda said with false brightness after an excruciating pause. "What have you been up to, dearest?"

"Glinda…"

"I'm sure there's plenty of gossip that I've missed out on," she continued, plowing ahead bravely. She leaned over the platter of sandwiches, painstakingly selected one, and took a dainty bite.

"Glinda, stop it!" Fiyero said. "How can you… pretend nothing's happened?" He gestured emphatically with his hands, feeling frustration swamp him. "What happened there? What happened to you? What happened to Elphaba?"

"I'm sure you've seen the papers," Glinda said in an answer that wasn't really an answer.

"Damn it, stop evading the question," he snapped. "That's not an answer, and you know it!"

She gazed back at him, wide-eyed. He had never sworn at her before. Then she burst into tears.

Feeling like an absolute heel, he instantly apologized.

"I'm sorry, Glinda, really I am. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just… I'm worried."

She kept on crying, wrapping her arms about herself protectively, and rocking slightly.

He felt horribly awkward – he had never been very good at comforting crying females. Hesitantly, he approached her and patted her gingerly on the back, making what he hoped were low, soothing sounds.

Eventually, Glinda's tears ran their course, and she looked up, sniffling.

"Could you hand me that handkerchief on my bureau?"

He walked over to her bureau, located the handkerchief in question, and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes with it, then blew her nose.

"Thank you."

"It's the least I could do," he told her.

She nodded, looking on the verge of tears again.

"Look, whatever happened in the Emerald City is obviously upsetting you," he said, trying a different tack. "Talking about it might help. You know I won't repeat anything that you tell me."

"It's not that," Glinda said quietly, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable. Something in her eyes, though, was infinitely old. "I had to swear that I… I wouldn't tell anyone what happened. Oh no! I shouldn't have said that."

Had to swear not to tell…? Then that means that the papers weren't telling the truth! he thought exultantly.

"Well, as long as I don't say anything, and you don't say anything, they've no way to know that you told me," he pointed out reasonably.

"I wish I could be sure of that, but Morrible might have put some sort of a detection spell on me," she explained, looking weary. Then, after a moment of silence, she said, "Oh… to – to hell with it!"

Glinda's eyes then widened, as though rather shocked at her own daring. Fiyero felt his own eyes widen. He'd never heard Glinda swear before.

"If she's put a spell on me, then I'm probably already in trouble for saying as much as I have," Glinda said. "You might as well hear everything."

And so she proceeded to tell him the tale, starting with their departure for the Emerald City, and ending with her own return with Madam Morrible.

"What was I supposed to do, Fiyero?" she asked him, half-rhetorically. "I'm not brave, not like Elphie. And the Wizard and Morrible… they gave me a choice: either keep my 'pretty little mouth shut', and, in return be given a prestigious position, or have something horrible happen to me. Oh, they didn't say that in so many words, but the threat was there. And the worst of it is… I half believed what they were saying, about Elphaba being Wicked. They were so convincing, so sympathetic. I was confused and scared and…"

She trailed off.

"And so I betrayed her."

Her tone was flat.

"Elphaba would understand," he told her, offering what weak consolation he could.

"Would she?" Glinda asked bitterly, reflectively.

It occurred to him that Glinda had grown up. Not completely, of course, but… she'd aged, somehow, in the past week.

"And now," Glinda said with a little hysterical laugh that was half a sob, "I'm a national heroine! And there's a part of me that's enjoying it! Not denouncing her, I don't think I'll ever be so far gone as to enjoy that – but all of the attention and the glitter."

She paused minutely, then added, "And I hate her for going away and leaving me alone."

"You're not alone," Fiyero protested. "I'm here."

"Yes, well, thank the Unnamed God for that," Glinda said. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you."

"Starve to death, undoubtedly," Fiyero said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Those sandwiches aren't just for decoration, you know. Eat."

"Oh! Right. I'd forgotten that they were there," she explained sheepishly. And with that she dug hungrily into the sandwich that she had nibbled at earlier, manners temporarily thrown to the winds.

He poured her a cup of tea, which she gratefully accepted, then asked, "So… what happens now?"

"Hmm?" Glinda asked, taking a sip of the tea. "Fiyero, you forgot to get the cream and sugar!"

He shrugged.

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Glinda said demurely.

Yes, Glinda had always been good at pretending that unpleasant truths didn't exist, Fiyero reflected. As had he, for that matter. But that didn't stop those truths from being true, he realized with a start. If they shut their eyes, this whole mess wouldn't just go away.

It was a rather depressing thought.

"I wonder what Elphaba's doing right now," he murmured.

"Don't!" Glinda said, voice a bit choked. "Just… don't. Not right now. Please."

"You can't hide forever, Glinda," Fiyero told her, trying to control his exasperation.

"I know," Glinda said. "I know."

-–-–-–-

As he headed back to his dormitory, the full enormity of the situation finally hit Fiyero, causing him to stagger. He leaned against a wall for support, and shut his eyes wearily.

Elphaba…

She had defied the Wizard — the Wizard!

Elphaba, you dear idiot, he thought. Couldn't you keep your mouth shut just once? Of course, if you could stand by while injustice was done, you wouldn't be the same girl I love.

Wait… love?

No, that's ridiculous, he decided. Attraction, admiration, liking — those I can admit to. But love?

He shook his head, clearing his mind of the disturbing thought. In doing so, however, he returned to equally disturbing ones.

Elphaba had defied the Wizard, been branded a Public Enemy, and was now on the run from the law. The Wizard was having dealings that went beyond Fiyero's worst and wildest imaginings. In short, his whole world had somehow gone topsy-turvy, and he had no idea how to put it back to rights.

He banged his head against the wall before proceeding to his dormitory. It was going to be a long night.