"Daylight...See the dew on the sunflower and a rose that is fading...Roses whither away/Like the sunflower, I yearn to turn my face to the dawn/
I am waiting for the day . . .," Candle sang in her soft, barely there voice. She looked over at Yackle. "Where are they," she whispered.
The old woman snorted. "Not for us to know. Not yet, least ways. Fret not though. The Wind will be coming to take you soon enough."
He visited upon her one last time before leaving Oz for good, though she did not know. It was the dead of night and she was caught in a deep sleep. She was curled around the Princess Ozma, their limbs entwined. Her devotion was apparent.
He stood in the shadows watching her sleep. "Look at you. The whole of Oz at your hand." His voice broke a little. "Beyond my expectations, but then why should I be surprised?" He did not linger. He couldn't. Besides he was finished here and Elphie was waiting for him.
Nor sat up, waking suddenly from a vague dream. "Is someone there," she called into the darkness. She reached to turn up the oil lamp.
Scraps stirred and sat up too. She gazed at Nor with bleary eyes. "Sunlight, through the trees in summer, endless masquerading/Like a flower as the dawn is breaking...the memory is fading," she sang to herself.
Nor watched her. "That was lovely, where'd you hear it?" Not that she really expected an answer.
"The Cat. She waits at the door. Pawing and clawing. 'Now,' she tells them. 'Now, now!' They are coming. See, how he lights the fire and does not see. And he is no more. Gone, gone forever. All for the price of milk."
Still half asleep, Nor tried to make sense of Scraps' rambling. She felt that these outbursts were more than the rantings of a deranged mind. But just what, she had no clue. "It's okay. Don't worry about the cat. And we have plenty of milk, now, seeing as you own all the cows. Come on, and lets go back to sleep."
Fiyero stirred sleepily. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and taking in his surroundings. The terrain changed, it seemed on mere whim. Currently this was some sort of grassy loft, hidden away by the fronds of a weeping willow. Like a private room. A stranger was watching him, he realized. She was a comely enough woman, he supposed. Soft, curling brown locks, crystal blue eyes and gently bronzed skin, clad in a complimenting white dress. He was at first bewildered by her presence. But then he understood.
"Oh, Elphie, why are you doing that," he sighed.
She came close and sat next to him. She touched a hand to his face. "You are so beautiful," she said. "I wanted to be beautiful too, for you. I thought this would be my chance."
He took both her hands in his and looked up into her eyes. "But Elphie, you are beautiful to me. No matter how you look."
The illusion dissolved and she was green once more. "You don't have to lie to me," she told him, dropping her gaze.
"It's not lying, it's another way of looking at things."
She lay back into the grass and snuggled against him. "Sing for me. You have such a wonderful voice."
He smiled and began," Right here, look what we've got a fairy-tale plot/Our very own happy ending…"
"Where we couldn't be happier," she murmured, feeling very content, almost blissful. Maybe Nessa was right...
And we're happy to share our ending vicariously with all of you...
"Couldn't be happier," Turtle Heart joined in the fray. He watched Melena bathe her feet in the small stream. "Turtle Heart to wonder when Frex to join us."
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and the breeze flipped it every which way. "Oh, he'll be along..."
And with this perfect finale, the cheers and the ballyhoo!/Who couldn't be happier?
The melody faded like a rainbow after a storm, or like winds calming down at last; and what was left was calm and possibility and relief- Gregory Maguire, Wicked.