Middle Ground
Chapter 34
A/N Thank you all for reading! And thanks even more to those that review. It's what drags me off the sofa.
She had no idea what she was doing.
How had she let him talk her into doing this? How? Why?
Ugh! She'd never listen to his pretty little smooth words again. Not ever. She knew exactly the power words held, if spoken smoothly and seductively enough. She knew what words could do, if they were spoken in the right manner, if they appealed to what the listener wanted, if they resembled, ever so slightly, what the listener wanted to hear.
Words could deceive and enthrall and seduce and fool.
She knew all that, better than anyone. She did it to the people of Oz every single day.
Morrible had used it on her every single time she'd opened her mouth to object. And it had worked.
Yet, here she was.
Because Avaric had showed up at his apartment, taken one look at her and without even raising an eyebrow had led her into his living room. He'd listened to her desperate rant, her inarticulate plea for help, he'd nodded and he'd, of course, poured himself a drink.
Then he'd directed her to a chair with just a flick of his wrist, and he'd opened his mouth.
And now, here she was.
What in Oz had she been thinking?
How was this going to work?
What was she going to say?
He would never believe her. He might call for that old hag and have her thrown in Southstairs.
But...She shook her curls out of her face and took a deep, slightly frantic, breath, it was the only option she had.
She had to try, at least.
Glinda straightened her shoulders in a determined manner, one that she had learned from her momsie would grant her the attitude that would get her anything she desired.
Anything she wanted.
A good attitude, true determination and the right pair of shoes is all a woman really needs to get her way. The attitude because it forces people to notice you, the determination because it forces people to listen and the shoes because it makes you feel invincible.
All her life, it had held true.
It would have to be enough today as well.
She opened the heavy doors to the throne room without knocking. She couldn't stop now. Not to knock, not for idle chit chat that she so excelled in. Not for anything.
If she stopped to think about any of it, about what lay ahead, about the consequences if she failed, about Morrible finding out...
Well, she couldn't. She would not.
Determination.
Why she was still, after everything she had seen and even knowing the truth about him, intimidated by the Wizard.
She knew he held no actual power. She knew there was nothing he could do to her himself.
She knew that of the two of them in that throne room, she was the one who held the power.
She had magic abilities, at least, even if they were limited. She hadn't spent the past few years sitting pretty.
She was good at her job, better even than the Wizard, because she went out there and made the people believe, rather than just telling them. She left nothing to the odds, didn't wait for them to get on her side. No, she had gone up and done her utmost to personally move them to her side.
And she'd done it all by pretending.
She pretended to have magical powers much greater than she really had for the people of Oz, and she pretended to have magical powers much less impressive than they really were for Madame Morrible.
And it had worked, excuse the pun, like magic.
Her parents were rich and successful and they had passed the genes for that on to her. She knew how to fake what she did not have, and how to hide what she didn't want others to know she had.
She was a natural socialite and a skilled liar.
She did both every single day.
And now, that would finally, truly pay off.
All she needed was to get the Wizard to listen. To doubt.
"Miss Glinda."
There was a surprised tone to the old man's voice, turning her name into a question. She turned around without giving herself a chance to back down.
"Mr Wizard. I need to talk to you. I need you to listen to me."
He nodded his head, as if to process what she was saying, but he didn't stop moving. He looked distracted and hurried. She supposed he had every reason to be.
"Excuse me? Child, we have things to do. Big things. The Witch..."
"Yes, I know. But Mr. Wizard, you're making a mistake."
He shook his head as he fluttered about the room. What was he looking for, precisely? She doubted even he knew. It made her feel better, his obvious discomfort and nerves. Even here, in his little safety zone, he was out of place.
"Oh, not this, now. Miss Glinda, you know that we did what we could for her, and she refused us. Now, this is the result. She brought this on herself."
"I won't have a fight with you about this, Mr Wizard. You're lying, and you know it. We both know it. And I haven't said anything, and I played along because...well.."
She took a deep breath.
Determination.
"Because I was too scared and too weak to go with her. But this is a lie, and you know it. She didn't do anything. You did."
He stopped teetering about the place, at last, and turned a questioning eye on her.
"Miss Glinda, don't have me call the guards on you. You have done so well for us in the past."
This would take too long. Avaric had warned her to keep it as short as possible. To make sure he didn't have the time to realize what she was doing and call the guards, or worse, Morrible. No, she didn't have time to run around in circles. She needed to get to the point.
She needed to grab the point and shove it in his face. The way momsie did with popsicle when he wasn't taking a hint.
"You offered me a drink."
"Excuse me?"
"From a green bottle."
"Erm..Yes?"
It was working. This was the way. He was so confused, so astounded by her questions, he didn't have a chance to process, only answer.
"Can I see that?"
"The bottle?"
"Yes."
The louder and more adamant she sounded, the more docile he seemed to become. She wondered how long that would last. Would she be able to push him into the direction she was aiming for, or would he come to his senses and change the course?
"Why?"
"I want a drink."
She'd hoped it might work, but also knew it was a long shot. Surely, this man wasn't that stupid.
"Why, really?"
Well, okay, so he wasn't. No matter.
She raised her eyebrows and tried to conjure the haughty expression that had gotten her out of trouble so many times in the past.
It worked this time, as it had on so many men before him.
"Elphaba has one too, you know."
"Excuse me?"
"One of these bottles. Elphaba has one. She showed me. Back in school."
The hand in his pocket came out again empty-handed. She was losing him. This was what Avaric had warned her about. Look out for the signs. You'll know when you're losing him. That's when you go in for the kill...
"Miss Glinda, I am quite tired of this. Say what you want to say to me and then leave. Nothing will change the outcome of tomorrow."
Ah, but this was her niche. Public in doubt needed very little reassurance. They needed to hear something that made them feel understood, that made them feel seen. It wouldn't matter all that much, in the end, if the promises made would be kept. All that mattered in those moments of doubt and suspicion and bewilderment, was that there was someone there who saw it all, heard it all, and listened.
And answered.
"Fine. But you better listen to me, or the only truth that really matters will disappear and she doesn't deserve that."
She took another breath and steeled herself for what would follow. She had no proof of what she was about to say. She could only hope it would be enough to make the Wizard pause. To make him call off the execution.
"Elphaba has a bottle like this. Exactly like this. It belonged to her mother. She died, and Elphaba has it now. She used to sleep with it under pillow. She doesn't know what it means, wouldn't talk much about it. Only that her mother kept it close to her."
She started pacing, keeping the Wizard's attention on her, as her voice softened and she forced an expression of sympathy.
Morrible would never have fallen for it. But the Wizard might.
After all, he fell for all Morrible had done and said, and Glinda never had. She had always known exactly what the woman was doing, when she was lying, when she was being played. She had simply never been brave enough to do anything about it.
She paid for that now. Elphaba would pay for that, as she had before.
Elphaba, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I hope this works...I hope I can save you this time...
"See, I am very interested to know how Elphaba's mother would get hold of a bottle like this. I have never seen it anywhere else but on you."
She stopped moving, turned to face the Wizard and zeroed in on him, her eyes piercing. She only hoped he would be intimidated or curious enough. Either would do.
"How did she get that bottle, Mr. Wizard?"
What was she doing? She didn't even know, not for sure, if the bottles were the same. If the one Elphaba had, had indeed belonged to the Wizard.
But if there was a chance that he thought so...well...it would be enough. It could be enough.
It could buy time.
"What...what do you mean?"
She heard the agitation in his voice and latched onto it.
"I mean, what did you do before you became the Wonderful Wizard? What were you doing twenty-something years ago?"
Later, she would not be able to explain exactly how she knew which direction to take. Which story to spin. But there was something in the Wizard's face, in his eyes, that told her she was on to something. That there really was a story there.
"Did you meet her, Mr. Wizard? Did you meet Melena Thropp?"
She threw the name in there on purpose. Surprise, shock, hurt. Emotions like that took control, if only for seconds, and could not be hidden. Not that fast. Not when they came unexpectedly.
And this did.
Surprise, for more than a moment, etched the Wizard's face.
"Melena?"
"Yes, Melena Thropp of Munchkinland. See, I did some research, Mr. Wizard and it turns out she was an interesting woman. Not like every other."
His eyes took on a distant look.
"Melena.."
"Did you know her?"
"She was...beautiful. I thought she was a Witch at first. She seemed almost...otherworldly..."
To Glinda's surprise, he chuckled, fondness in his voice. It was a good memory.
"Of course, for me, she was."
"Mr. Wizard."
He turned then, suddenly, catching Glinda off guard.
"What do you know about that? Where are you going with this?"
"Mr. Wizard..."
"I gave Melena a bottle, or what was in it, in any case. Left the bottle behind. What is your point now? It's been twenty years..."
"My point is...what happened between you and Melena? Why did she have that bottle? And how come Elphie has it now?"
It seemed the questions hit target. The Wizard looked at her and drew conclusions she had not dared to go near.
"You think...Elphaba...is...you think she is my...my..."
She didn't let him finish that sentence. For Elphaba, she could not let him.
"You're the only one who knows what she could be, Mr. Wizard. My point is: don't you want to find out?"
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