Title: The Grand Vizier of Oz
Author: Sedri
Rating: PG-13 / T
Summary: "Please come back - you're my daughter, I'd do anything -!" She stopped, hand half-raised and ready to cast a spell. "Anything?" AU, Fiyero/Elphaba. Complete.
Disclaimer: Neither Wicked nor the world of Oz are mine in any way.
Chapter Six
Letting Go
Year 20
Summer
Glinda Upland wasn't stupid. Light-hearted and somewhat naive, maybe, but she was observant and sensitive and prided herself on always being there for an unhappy friend, and she was always the one who noticed their problems first. She was good like that, always had been, and aside from that time when Fiyero suddenly started becoming moody and thinking for no apparent reason, Glinda had never really been surprised by an emotional revelation from any of her friends.
That was why she was so startled, one afternoon during the final exams of second year, when Nessarose casually mentioned that her sister was in love with Fiyero.
It was a hot, humid day at Shiz. Grey clouds were thickening, threatening thunder, though as yet only a warm drizzle had actually fallen, leaving many people damp, sweaty, and annoyed. Most sought shelter inside, and Glinda, thanking Lurline that she hadn't worn white, was one of them. Elphaba was off with Doctor Dillamond and the Monkeys – they were taking Selky and Chistery on a tour of the campus, with strict lectures on the dangers of flying too far – but would be coming in for lunch soon enough, and Glinda, who found their dormitory unbearable when alone, had gone on ahead to the university's dining hall.
A handful of other students were already there, scattered through the big room, either slumped over polished wooden tables or pressing their faces against the huge glass windows. Conversation was soft and tired, and in sharp contrast, Boq's unquenchable energy was impossible to miss.
"Miss Glinda!" he cried, waving. "Miss Glinda, over here!"
He was sitting with Nessarose in a far corner, near one of the wall-like windows, and Glinda, who couldn't possibly pretend not to have heard him, put on a smile and walked over, deliberately asking Nessa if she could join them.
"Of course. Sit down."
Boq shot to his feet, scrambling to pull an extra chair from the nearest table and holding it until Glinda was seated comfortably. Nessa watched without expression, spearing salad leaves with her fork.
"How are your exams going, Nessa?" Glinda asked politely, keeping her eyes firmly on the girl and away from the eager Munchkin. "I heard that political science was very difficult yesterday."
"It was," said Nessa blandly, "but Boq helped me study for it, and I think I did well."
"That's good to hear," said Glinda. "Your father will be proud."
"I hope so."
Boq immediately jumped in: "What about you, Miss Glinda? Have you had an exam yet?"
"Not yet, Boq, no," she said, trying to ignore the way he lit up whenever she got his name right. "Neither Elphie nor I have anything until next week."
"That means you have more time to study! –oh, not that you need it, of course," he added hurriedly. "I'm sure you'll do well. You're so clever."
"Thank you." Glinda hesitated, then asked, as she was expected to, how Boq's exams were going.
"Oh, Miss Glinda, I haven't had any so far – I've been studying all week but I just don't know if I know it, you know? And I can't afford not to pass because I'm only here on a scholarship for Munchkinland, so do you think that maybe if you have time you could–?"
"Just a tick-tock," Glinda interrupted, brow furrowed. "What do you mean, 'a scholarship for Munchkinland'?"
"Most Munchkinlanders are farmers," said Nessa, as if it wasn't common knowledge. "There aren't many families who can afford Shiz tuition, so every year Father funds a scholarship so that more of our people can get a higher education."
"But if I don't get top marks in all my classes I won't get the money for next year, so I was hoping you'd help me stu–"
"We can't afford it," Nessa defended, somewhat stiffly. "In the past there have been students who earned the scholarship only to fail classes out of laziness once at Shiz. You only need an eighty percent average," she added.
"But that's not easy to–"
"Wha– hold on," said Glinda, shaking her head. "I thought scholarships covered all three years of tuition. My cousin Mardra graduated a few years ago and she never needed any sort of high average."
Boq looked a little sour. "Only the Gillikinese government does that."
"But... most people from Gillikin can afford it anyway," said Glinda, confused. "Is– That's why there's so few Munchkin students?"
"And no Quadlings at all," Nessa nodded. "Yes."
"Well that's not right," decreed Glinda. "Everyone should have an equal chance of getting into Shiz. The Wizard should make sure of it."
"Are you going to... talk to him?" asked Boq, wide-eyed. "You're going to take this to the Wizard?"
"I most certainly will," said Glinda, fishing in her purse for the little (pink) notebook that Elphie had given her a while ago, almost as a joke. Borrowing Boq's pen, she scribbled a few words and straightened up with a flourish. "There! I'll put it in my next letter."
"Thank you so much, Miss Glinda! That's so good of you. I'm sure the Wizard will listen to anything you say–"
"Boq," said Nessa calmly, "would you mind bringing us another jug of water?" She gestured to the empty glasses on their table. "It's so hot, and poor Glinda looks exhausted."
The Munchkin boy was up in a flash, darting across the room so fast that, for a moment, students on either side of his path had no need to fan themselves. He turned and waved back, just because he could, and Glinda politely returned it before looking at the girl she hoped could be called a friend. Nessarose was staring steadily at her plate.
Glinda sighed. "I'm sorry, Nessa," she said.
"For what?" Nessa asked lightly, even though it was completely rhetorical.
"For that," Glinda said anyway. "For Boq, for the way he behaves around me. I don't encourage it, you know."
"Of course not."
"And I really hope things work out well between you."
"Thanks."
"People don't choose who they fall in love with, Nessa."
The younger girl stiffened, white fingers tightening on her fork, and she closed her eyes. "No, they don't," she said. "So if you're trying to tell me that I might be happier without Boq, don't. Please. I love him, Glinda. He is the one for me, and I won't give up just because he has a silly crush on some other woman."
"But... Nessa, this must bother you."
She shrugged. "Does it bother you when my sister acts like that around Fiyero?" she asked, gesturing at something behind Glinda's back. Turning, she looked around the dining hall until she saw her best friend and boyfriend sitting together at a far table, barely visible around a corner, chatting happily with no textbooks in sight.
They must not have seen me, she thought, and turned back with a puzzled expression. "Of course not, Nessa, that's different. Elphie isn't in love with–"
Nessa raised both eyebrows. Glinda blinked.
"She is?"
"You didn't know?"
Twisting in her seat to observe the pair again, Glinda slowly shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I didn't."
A jumble of feelings dropped heavily into her stomach, twisting and mixing until she could barely tell them all apart. Hurt was in there somewhere, as was sadness, some sort of possessiveness, and an absurd sense of jealousy, but all of it was numbed away by her overwhelming sense of shock. Elphaba, in love? How could she – she! Elphie's best friend in the entire world – possibly have missed something as important as that?
Well... maybe she hadn't. Nessa could be wrong, after all; it wasn't as though she were an expert, and if Elphie hadn't told her... then again, Elphie never told anyone much of anything, did she? She'd said several times that she knew nothing about love, was openly disdainful Glinda's collection of romance novels, was always uncomfortable when her roommate chatted about what happened on her latest date...
But there could be a very different reason for that, couldn't there?
Glinda didn't know what to think, or say, or feel. She knew she should probably be upset, ready to shout at Elphaba – that's what all her storybook heroines did, usually just before a dramatic battle where they needed that friendship most – but she didn't feel angry. She didn't feel anything, really, just a vague sense of sorrow and a hope that Nessa was wrong, because if Elphie loved Fiyero, it was going to make things very awkward.
That's selfish, she suddenly thought, scolding herself in a voice that sounded eerily like her mother's. Elphie was (possibly) suffering a terrible heartache all on her own, without even her best friend to help her through it – Glinda had no right to be complaining about awkwardness. And she should be helping, because... well, all right, it was hardly her fault that she and Fiyero loved each other, but still – one didn't refuse to apologise for knocking someone into a puddle just because they hadn't caused the rain. Right now, Elphie needed her.
If Nessa was right, of course, and Glinda wasn't convinced of that. Loving sister though she might be, Nessarose didn't spent nearly as much time with Elphaba as Glinda did lately, and besides, Glinda understood romance better than either of them.
Feeling better, back in control, Glinda straightened up and smiled at Nessa, who seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed by the other girl's long, sad-looking silence. "Thanks, Nessa. I'm glad you told me."
"You're not worried?"
"Why should I be?" replied Glinda, having forgotten that the original conversation was about Boq, and that she'd been trying to make a point. "Elphie would never betray me."
"And Fiyero?" asked Nessa.
Glinda blinked. "Of course not." That went without saying.
For the next few days, Glinda kept a close eye on her roommate, asking all sorts of harmless little questions and watching carefully for any response. Elphaba was remarkably, annoyingly close-mouthed; most of her answers were ambiguous, and those that weren't were so innocent that Glinda couldn't use them to prove anything, even to herself. Trying to talk about the future, meaning husbands and babies, turned into a discussion of politics and long-term Animal Rights issues which Glinda learned nothing from. Mentioning that Fiyero would be coming to their room to study sparked no sudden, embarrassed cleanup of the desk or bookshelves, and casually remarking that he'd said Elphie's birthday necklace looked good on her only earned Glinda a smile and another thanks for helping to deliver it.
Frustrated, she decided to give up on subtlety.
It was evening, two days before their history exam, and as a reward for studying so hard Fiyero had decided they should all go into town to see a rather famous play that was touring there. Somehow he had found them three tickets, and the girls were very excited – Elphaba less vocally, of course.
Glinda was standing in front of the mirror in their dormitory, fixing her hair into something suitably elegant for a night at the theatre – it was a rather fancy affair, after all, and she didn't want to look second-class. She'd managed to talk Elphaba into wearing a fairly pretty dress of dark purple even though Elphie said it made her look like an eggplant, and her own shimmering blue gown was a nice complement that neither clashed with nor drew attention to her friend's green skin. Fiyero would be wearing dark red, apparently, and that would make them a nicely varied, colourful little group.
In retrospect, it wasn't the best time to bring up difficult questions. Glinda, however, didn't think of that until after she'd asked, "Do you like Fiyero?"
The green girl snorted, busy untangling a fancy, borrowed earring from the loose bun Glinda had wound her hair into. "What a silly question," she said, wincing as some strands ripped. "Of course I do."
"That's not what I meant. Are you in love with him?"
Elphaba froze, a look of horror dashing across her face, and even as she said, "No – no, that's ridiculous," it was too late: Glinda had her answer.
Yes.
"No," pressed Elphaba, flustered, trying not to see Glinda's knowing expression. "That's absurd. Insane. Where did you ever get that idea?"
"Your sister."
"Remind me to kill my sister," said Elphaba. "She doesn't know anything."
Sitting down on the bed beside her friend, Glinda asked, "Doesn't she?"
"I already told you – no."
"I don't believe you."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Don't change the subject, Elphie," Glinda chided gently. "Just tell me the truth."
"I don't like him!" Elphaba snapped, jumping to her feet. With two large steps she crossed the room and leaned on the windowsill, watching the rain fall outside.
"Really, Elphie, would you be so upset if it weren't true?"
She flinched, and one could almost see her thinking, Damn – logic. Keeping her back to the room, Elphaba rested her forehead against the glass and said, "Glinda, please don't..."
"Just say it."
"I can't." Elphaba scrunched her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "Please, Glinda."
Glinda was not the type to stubbornly hold out for an answer – she knew it, Elphie knew it, and Elphie knew that she knew it. There was no need to torture her. "All right then, don't say it. I understand."
That didn't make Elphaba feel any better. In fact, she looked positively stricken as she turned around, arms folded protectively across her front and fingers digging nervously into her skin. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm really, really sorry. I can't help it and I don't want to and I didn't mean to, I just... It's nothing, Glinda," she promised, hurrying back to kneel beside the bed, just as she would by Nessa's chair. "I swear to you that it's nothing, and I'm doing everything I can to get rid of it. Everything. I just don't want you to hate me. Please don't be angry."
If she were honest with herself, Glinda would have admitted that a little spark of anger was buried somewhere in the knot of her muddled feelings – but she didn't. Instead she just laid a hand over the hard green knuckles and said, "I could never hate you, Elphie."
Elphaba's relief was palpable. She sighed heavily, closing her eyes and squeezing her friend's hand. "Thank you."
Glinda felt a strange spark of amusement, a sharp contrast to the funny cold knot in her chest. "Really, Elphie, do you think you're the only one?" she asked, and Elphaba looked up warily, puzzled. "Half the girls in Shiz fancy themselves in love with Fiyero. He's rich, handsome, and really, really nice. What girl in her right mind wouldn't want him?"
Elphie actually chuckled at that, though it was strained and tense. "Make sure he doesn't hear you – his ego's big enough all ready."
They shared a small laugh then, more out of relief than real humour. Glinda patted the mattress beside her and Elphie got up, sitting hesitantly on the edge of her own bed. She watched Glinda closely, trying to read her expression.
"You're really okay with this?"
Glinda offered a half-smile. "You can't help it, Elphie, I understand that. No one chooses who they fall in love with, and I... I can't pretend I like it," she said honestly, "but I do understand. I don't want you to suffer all by yourself."
Elphaba smiled back, just a tad indulgent. "I'm not suffering, Glinda. I just don't want to lose my best friend."
"It's okay, Elphie, you can tell me," said Glinda, blithely assuming she had lied. "There's nothing wrong with crying, especially at times like this. I understand how you... well, I've never felt it, but I know that unrequited love is a horrendible thing to–"
"It's not love," declared Elphaba, cheeks flushing purple. "It's... I don't know what it is. But not love."
Now it was Glinda's turn to be indulgent. "All right, 'like', then. Unrequited like is never easy. I want to make sure you're okay." She hesitated for a long minute, then said, "Don't you want to talk about it? Things always seem better when you talk about them. I'll just run down and tell Fiyero we can't go tonight, I'm sure he won't mind–"
"No, Glinda, don't," protested Elphaba, grabbing her wrist. "You've been looking forward to this all week. And I'm fine, really..." she hesitated. "But it might be best if I stay here tonight." She toyed with the rich fabric of her dress. "You won't have fun if I'm there."
Though reluctant, Glinda had to admit that was true. "Are you sure?" she asked after a moment.
"I'm sure. Go and have fun with Fiyero. I... I think I'll visit Chistery."
Glinda smiled at that – she was very fond of the Monkeys – and stood up. "Well, make sure you change first – that dress is too pretty to be spoiled." Elphaba nodded, smiling slightly, and Glinda added, "And remember that you can always talk to me. Promise?"
"I promise."
They didn't say much more after that, as Glinda was now running late and had to hurry to finish accessorising, but as she did she watched her friend carefully, and as bizarre as it might be to Glinda, Elphie really did seem fine. In fact, she seemed much happier – more comfortable, maybe – than she had for weeks. She was quick to laugh when Glinda put her shoes on backwards, though that might have been relief seeping out, and spontaneously hugged her friend before opening the door. Glinda smiled, reassured, and rushed off to meet her boyfriend.
The first thing he said was, "Where's Elphaba?"
Glinda froze, almost stumbling on the last stair as she felt something cold creep up through her belly. Then she shook her head – how silly. Of course he was expecting both of them.
She must have hesitated too long because Fiyero peered curiously at her and took a step forward. "Is something wrong? You look upset."
Without stopping to think about it, Glinda smoothed her features into a pleasant smile. "I'm fine, dearest."
He nodded, glancing at the stairs, then back at her, several times. When Glinda said nothing he asked, "Well, isn't she coming? I thought she wanted to see this play."
His girlfriend shook her head, still with that same smile. "Oh, you know Elphie; she's convinced that she'll fail anyway if she doesn't study all night."
Fiyero's brow furrowed deeply – he was really worried. "That doesn't sound like her – I mean, she's not that obsessed. Are you sure she's all right?"
"Yes," said Glinda firmly. "Let's go." And, linking her arm with Fiyero's, Glinda steered them towards the door, telling herself that she was just reading too much into all this.
As the next few weeks passed, she wasn't so sure.
Fiyero had always liked Elphaba. Well, after the party at the Ozdust, at least. He was the only person besides Nessarose to equal Glinda's kindness towards their green-skinned schoolmate. He was sweet and understanding and very generous – why else would he have offered to help both girls learn their way around the complexicated and awfully boring world of politics? He had changed since coming to Shiz, but all for the better; he agreed with Elphaba's convictions, just as Glinda did, and was doing his duty as heir apparent of the Vinkus to make sure that someday all of Oz would be fair and free and just.
And he liked to hear her laugh. Surely that was a sign of his goodness. It wasn't easy to make Elphaba laugh, but he went out of his way to find jokes or trinkets that appealed to her odd sense of humour. It was so thoughtful of him. And Elphaba, in turn, always took the time to share her ideas and ideals with Fiyero, asking for his opinions and help.
Well, she used to. That had stopped a few weeks ago. Belatedly, Glinda realised why.
It was unsettling to realise how much she had missed. She wasn't that blind, was she? Or had she just not wanted to see it? Fiyero clearly hadn't, for as exams passed and people started packing up for home, he kept asking why Elphaba wasn't joining them for lunch or dinner, and seemed irritated when she didn't give a clear answer. It didn't help that when the three of them did get together, Elphaba kept her distance, never as comfortable as she was with her roommate despite his increasingly persistent attempts to amuse her.
One day, Glinda confided in him that it wasn't his fault, that Elphie was just having a spot of romantic trouble, and a flash of guilty hope crossed his face so suddenly that she hadn't been able to forget it for a week. It shook her, deeply, and suddenly Glinda found herself doubting everything – everything, right down to the fairytale future she'd always believed in. She hated those doubts because those doubts were poison, ruining the beloved, perfect dreams that she did not want to let go of.
But doubts, being doubts, have a funny way of refusing to be banished, of growing and changing and solidifying into horrible certainty, and so when Fiyero turned up at their door on the last day of term, asking quite seriously if they could talk, she wasn't really surprised.
At Shiz University, like any other student society, there are a few unspoken rules that everyone knows and follows: Never side with the faculty, respect demands for silence from anyone who's hung-over, and if you stumble across any gossip-worthy information concerning Miss Glinda Upland – whether or not it involves her scandalacious prince or green-skinned friend, whose obvious connections to the Wizard had earned most people's grudging respect – don't tell Boq.
It was, after all, much more fun to see him stumble across it himself.
Unfortunately, a first-year student named Trinna Caylon wasn't aware of this rule. After hearing the news from her excited roommate, who had been trying to study in the hedge garden when Shiz's star couple had walked solemnly past, Trinna was solely concerned with passing it on to as many people as possible to earn herself a little more popularity, and thought nothing of telling the short boy who seemed so very interested.
The moment he heard the words "Galinda and Fiyero broke up!" Boq was on his feet, stammering a pathetic excuse to Nessarose before hurrying towards the girls' dorm as fast as he could without running.
Miss Glinda single! It was a miracle, one he'd shamefully prayed for since that night at the Ozdust. He'd known it was just a matter of time before she left Fiyero, and now, now...
Well, Boq had never given much thought to what exactly would happen now. In his daydreams Glinda would leave the Winkie and come to him, simple as that, and he never considered details of the transition save for deciding that Miss Glinda was far too good and kind to break anyone's heart, no matter how arrogant they were, without due cause. So he blithely assumed that Fiyero had misbehaved to some degree, and that poor, noble Miss Glinda had left him.
It never occurred to him that someone might choose to leave her.
As brothers and cousins and other strong friends were being very gentlemanly that day, helping to carry trunks and suitcases for the ladies who were leaving for home, there was next to no fuss about a boy hurrying through the girls' dormitory. People who recognised him snickered, more so when the panting Munchkin stopped to ask if Miss Glinda was in room twenty-two or twenty-four – it had been over three months since she'd offhandedly mentioned it in conversation and to his shame, Boq could not quite recall.
It was room twenty-two. Not even pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, Boq knocked – hammered – on the door, and from inside came a surprised, somewhat muffled, "What?" which Boq took to be permission to enter.
It wasn't. Evidently Miss Elphaba hadn't been sure if there had been a knock or an earthquake, for she was half up from her seat on the bed, clearly about to answer the door, when Boq barged in.
The object of his affection, the beautiful, composed Miss Glinda Upland, was curled up on her friend's dull blankets, crying her heart out.
Elphaba was defensive. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.
"I – I came to see if you're all right," Boq said to Glinda, who hadn't even looked at him. Heedless of propriety he continued in, brushing past Elphaba to kneel at Glinda's side. "Oh Miss Glinda, I'm so sorry," he said, taking her hand and oblivious to the used tissues clenched inside it. "He cheated on you, didn't he? I knew it, I always knew–"
"He didn't," said Glinda, her voice clogged by tears, too softly for Boq to hear.
"–you caught him, I'll bet, and oh, you must be heartbroken. You don't deserve that, you're so good, so very good and he's horrible for treating you so–"
"He didn't," said Glinda, looking up.
"–and you should be happy and loved and worshipped and never ever betrayed–"
"He didn't!" she snapped, jerking her hand away.
"–I promise, if we were going out I would never–"
"STOP IT!" screeched Glinda, jumping to her feet so abruptly that Boq stumbled to the floor. The blonde girl towered over him, swollen red eyes narrowed and a sharp, painted white nail pointing furiously in his direction.
"How dare you?" she cried. "I've had enough of this, Boq – don't you ever say that again! Ever! How can you be so heartless? How can you come here and say that when Nessarose is completely in love with you and I'm NOT?"
"But–"
"What were you planning to tell her?" Glinda went on, standing over him. "That she was just entertainment while you waited for me? That's horrible, Boq – what were you thinking?"
"I – I didn't... But, Fiyero–"
"Don't you dare say another word against him! Fiyero's good and nice and he never cheated on me! He doesn't want to hurt me – he said so! He SAID so!"
"But Glinda, I–"
"GET OUT!"
"Glinda–"
"Out," snapped Elphaba, who had been watching with disgust. She hauled him up by the collar. "You've done enough damage for one day. You're going to find my sister and end this stupid charade right now and I swear, Boq, if you don't tell her everything that's happened I will turn you into a frog."
And with that, the door was slammed shut in his face.
Inside, Glinda slumped down onto the bed, completely worn out. Elphaba, who had tearstains drying on her shoulder, said nothing as she sat back down and hugged Glinda, probably for the twelfth time. Her friend clung tight, sniffling, but much calmer than when she had come in an hour earlier. Glinda being Glinda, nothing was ever done quietly, and Elphaba had been overwhelmed by the wails and sobs that her swollen-eyed, blotchy-faced friend had expected her to miraculously cure.
But this curled-up, trembling misery? This she could deal with. This was how Nessa cried. So Elphaba stroked the gold hair and offered tissues, and murmured meaningless comforts until Glinda was ready to speak again.
It didn't take long.
"I never thought it would end, Elphie," she sniffled. "Never."
"I know," soothed Elphaba. "I know."
"And he didn't, either! He didn't, he said so. He said he never expected– Oh, Elphie, he was so nice about it!"
Hoping she wasn't going to dissolve into tears again, Elphaba asked, "He said he didn't want to hurt you?"
"He did," she whimpered. "And he meant it, Elphie, he meant it. He was so sad and so sorry and I can't be mad at him. I want to be, I really want to be, but I can't be because he did the right thing. I can't hate him for not loving me." Her shoulders shook, and Elphaba stretched her arm to grab another handkerchief, which was accepted with a small "thank you".
She blew her nose. Elphaba silently rubbed circles on her back. "Will you be all right?" she asked. "Eventually?" Glinda shrugged and, oddly, pointed towards the bookshelf.
"See that one near the middle? Noble Nadira, with the blue-grey cover? Get it, would you? There's something I want to show you."
Shrugging, Elphaba slipped off the bed for a moment to pull said book from Glinda's collection of romance novels. Unlike most of the others, Noble Nadira didn't look very worn. There was only one crease down its spine, and that was strange, since they were kept strictly organised by publication date; it couldn't have been the newest.
"I only read it once," explained Glinda. "I hated it. I wouldn't have kept it but Momsie says a full collection could sell well one day, if I ever want to get rid of them."
Elphaba rejoined her, looking over the cover as she sat down. It was typical of the series: a ridiculously beautiful woman in a long dress sat on a jewelled throne in a fancy, stereotypical castle. A man and a woman stood on either side of her, both also unfairly good-looking, though this second woman paled in comparison to the sitting one, who was obviously Nadira.
"She's the heroine," Glinda confirmed, tapping the picture. "That's Prince Tenek, who rules the other city-state, and that's Lady Palvi, Nadira's sister."
Elphaba couldn't care less, really, but Glinda was calmer now, and if chatter about meaningless books helped, why not? Elphaba nodded. "So why don't you like it?"
Glinda sighed. "It's the only book this author wrote where the heroine doesn't live happily ever after. She's betrothed to Tenek, and they start out hating each other, just like they're supposed to, and then she falls for him, but..."
"He died?" guessed Elphaba, thinking that if Glinda was comparing herself to Nadira, it would make perfect sense. But Glinda shook her head.
"He fell in love with Palvi. Real love, Elphie, the kind that Nadira never felt for him, and Palvi almost convinced him to run away with her because they were so happy together. But Tenek couldn't do that, because he was so good and he'd promised to marry Nadira anyway, because he thought he loved her." (At this point Elphaba was blinking, trying to keep all the relationships straight, but eventually caught up enough to understand.) "In the end," sighed Glinda, "Nadira stepped aside and gave her blessing to the wedding, and she lived alone as queen of both cities."
Elphaba wanted to ask how that worked, if the natural heir to the other city was very much alive, but as it clearly wasn't the point, she waited.
"I was so angry about that," Glinda went on. "I kept expecting something to happen – a last-minute twist, like Palvi turning out to be an evil sorceress or something – but it didn't. And it was so well-written, too; they felt like real people. And I hated it because Nadira was so good and I thought she deserved to marry the prince." Abruptly, she let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "Don't look at me that way, Elphie. I was twelve. And I like happy endings."
"It's all right," her friend replied with a shrug. "You can like anything want – it's not my business."
Glinda shrugged and caressed the book, running her fingertips over the illustration of Prince Tenek. "It's just that now I realise what the author was trying to say, and I feel so stupid for not getting it before."
"What's that?"
Her blue eyes met Elphaba's, and held them steadily. "Love has nothing to do with being deserved. I said it to Nessa and I said it to you, but I never really realised what that meant. No one ever chooses who they love, and if two people just aren't meant to be together–"
Suddenly her voice cracked, and with it her mask of calm. Her face scrunched up into harsh lines and she shook, and Elphaba hugged her again, rubbing her arm. Glinda clung to her.
"I thought it was him, Elphie. I really, really thought it was him."
Elphaba shook her head and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Glinda."
"It's not your fault!" cried Glinda. "I wish it were. If you'd done something I could blame you and hate you but I don't want to and I can't because it's not your fault you love him anymore than that he loves you."
"...What?"
"He loves you, Elphie, I'm sure of it. I'm sure of it. He wouldn't say so but he wouldn't deny it and I can see it and I should be happy for you – I should, I should, I should. I have no business ruining things for you and I should be sending you off on a date together but I want him, Elphie! I want him so much – I want him to love ME!"
And with that, she collapsed into tears.
Stunned, Elphaba said nothing, passively allowing Glinda to sob on her shoulder again, returning the hug automatically as her mind reeled with shock.
Fiyero... could not be in love with her. He couldn't. Glinda was mistaken, she had to be. Maybe she'd convinced herself that this was like one of her stories just so she had a reason to cling to – it would have been harder not to know why, Elphaba guessed. Yes, that had to be it.
But there was a small, horribly guilty part of her that was dancing with joy. Even if Glinda was wrong about this, she actually believed that someone might love Elphaba. Love her, green skin and all. Glinda was a romantic and an idealist but she wasn't stupid, and if she believed that her friend wasn't completely repulsive in the eyes of men... well, maybe... someday. Someone.
But not Fiyero. That was... too much to hope for.
Shaking her head, Elphaba shoved those thoughts aside; this wasn't the time for them. Her best friend was heartbroken, and right now that was all that mattered.
"I thought about not telling you," confessed Glinda, hiccupping and oblivious to her friend's deductions. "I really did. I was ready to lie, to tell you it was someone else, and– Oh Elphie, I'm so sorry, I'm such a horrid, wicked–!"
"You're not," snapped Elphaba. "You're not, Glinda, don't ever say that. You're a good person."
"I don't want to be! I want to be selfish. I want to have lied to you and to him so that he wouldn't love you and that's wrong and that's horrible and Elphie, Elphie..." Blubbering, she curled up in her friend's arms and said, "How do I bear it? What am I going to do?"
"I don't know," murmured Elphaba, resting her cheek on Glinda's hair. "I just don't know."
Glinda's train home left the next morning. Elphaba saw her off, waving and hugging and promising to write, then walked back to the emptying dorms to finish packing with Nessa. On the way, Fiyero saw her.
"Elphaba!" he called, far down one of the other paths. "Elphaba, wait!"
She walked faster, firmly shutting away the little voice in her head which was gleefully repeating everything Glinda had said to her about Fiyero and love and–
"Elphaba!" he shouted. "Just wait, I want to talk to you!"
No, no, no – not talk. She wasn't ready to talk. But Fiyero was a fast runner.
"Elphaba," he said, breathing hard, "can I just–?"
"No, Fiyero."
"But–"
"Please, no, not now–"
"Is Glinda all right?"
Blinking, Elphaba turned to him, cursing her heart for hammering so loud.
Fiyero went on, "She ran off pretty fast yesterday, and with the rumours, about Boq and all that..." He waved a hand absently towards the buildings. "You didn't actually turn him into a frog, did you?"
"No," said Elphaba, faintly amused despite her resolve to be firm. She squashed the feeling. "Glinda... will be all right."
Fiyero nodded, clearly relieved and getting his breath back, and hesitated before asking, "And you?"
She stilled, watching him, and desperately wished she knew what that meant. All those fanciful notions of 'seeing it in their eyes' were rubbish – she had no idea what he was thinking. So she went for the bland response.
"I'm fine."
He nodded again, pensive, still watching her steadily. Elphaba squirmed, looking away, and suddenly spun around, saying, "I have to go."
"Wha–? Elpha–!" Fiyero caught her arm. "Elphaba, wait a minute. Just..." He let out a long breath and released her, tossing up his hands and raking fingers through his hair. Elphaba hugged a book to her chest, as though it might protect her from this horrible conversation. "What can I do?" he asked eventually. "Should I write to Glinda, or to y–"
"No. Don't." She refused to look at his face. "...Fiyero," she said slowly, "I think it'd be best if you... keep away, for a while. Until this is over. Don't write or... talk, to us."
"'Us'? But you–"
"She's my best friend, Fiyero. It'd hurt her just to know you've talked to me. She keeps thinking that you–" But Elphaba sealed her lips before that particular thought could be spilled. "Just wait. I don't know for how long."
He nodded slowly, reluctantly, hands in his pockets. "All right," he said. "I will. Come find me when you're ready – both of you. I'll wait. But tell Glinda I love her," he added quickly. "I do love her, just not the way she wants me to."
Elphaba nodded and, before he could say anything heartbreakingly similar about her, fled.
It took three months, after they returned to Shiz, for Glinda, Fiyero and Elphaba to re-form as the comfortable, laughing group of friends who were quietly learning how to help run a country. Six more were needed before Glinda's hurt faded enough for her to make good on her word and make sure her two best friends were happy.
And so, on Elphaba's twenty-first birthday, amidst many, many repeats of, "Are you sure you're all right with this?" from both sides, Glinda Upland sent Elphaba and Fiyero off on their first real date.
Waving goodbye, a tight smile stretching on her cheeks, she replied, "I couldn't be happier."