Content Advisory: Grief/Angst
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: OVER THE RAINBOW
Glinda, after having spent a fortnight covered in blood, sweat, and amniotic fluid, realized with irony that it was the niceties awaiting her in The Emerald City that she couldn't bear to stomach. That is why immediately upon the completion of her apprenticeship she set her course directly for The Vinkus.
She arrived at Kiamo Ko in the early evening, still weary and worn from her work. The Monkeys greeted her eagerly at the drawbridge but flew off in disappointment when she told them she had no baked treats to offer. She brushed off her skirt and lifted her hand towards the doorknob before hesitantly pulling it back. She took a deep breath, shook her curls behind her shoulder, and lifted her hand again. Before she reached the knob, however, the door flung open to reveal Fiyero.
"Oh!" Glinda gasped in surprise. "Fiyero."
Glinda blinked as she looked at him. He'd let his stubble grow, his eyes were bloodshot. He looked different. Changed.
Fiyero didn't say anything, he simply stepped aside to permit Glinda entrance.
"Well hello to you too," Glinda muttered as she stepped inside.
Fiyero closed the door behind her. "Where in Oz have you been?"
Glinda turned.
"Whatever do you mean? I was at my apprenticeship. You knew that."
"Yes but we haven't heard a word from you in two weeks."
"I gave you plenty of supplies before I left."
Fiyero scoffed and shook his head before starting off down the hall.
"Why are you so moodified?" Glinda complained, trotting after him.
"You just left! You up and vanished!" Fiyero stopped to turn back towards her. "You didn't even say goodbye or tell us when you'd be back or—"
"Get the story straight, Fiyero," Glinda said with a slight edge. "I didn't just leave for giggles. Elphie kicked me out."
"She was angry."
"Yes! Oh, yes. That hot head of hers. Well seeing as you're so sore over it, where is she? I'll rise above it and go smoooooth things over with her," Glinda said before tacking on a bitter: "Like always."
"Why didn't you tell us how bad it was out there?"
Glinda stood up straight, affronted by Fiyero's unusually confrontational behavior.
"Goodness. Not you too, Fiyero," Glinda said. "Has she been getting into your head? I swear, she has the most hopeless outlook. If she only calmed down for a single tick-tock she would—"
"How much time do we have, Glinda?"
"She's about thirty-seven weeks along. Could pop any time."
"No," Fiyero said seriously. "Until they come for her."
Glinda sobered.
"What's gotten into you, Fiyero?" Glinda observed. "You've lost all your spark. Where's your hope? Someone has got to balance out Elphaba's gloom."
"Glinda…"
"What?"
Fiyero opened his mouth to speak but closed it with a shake of his head.
"Fiyero?"
Without another word, Fiyero stepped forward, took Glinda by the waist, and kissed her with affection. Stunned and stirred, Glinda's eyes fluttered closed and her hands came to rest on his shoulders. With momentous muscle memory, Glinda gently kissed Fiyero back until—
"Oh!" Glinda yelped, stumbling back a step to break the kiss. She delicately touched her lips with the tips of her fingers, astonished and confused. "Oh, Fiyero…why ever did you do that?"
"Because I love you, Glinda. I always have," Fiyero professed. "And I am going to miss you. I am going to miss you so, so much."
A shiver shot up Glinda's spine.
"Miss me? But…but I'm not going anywhere, silly."
"Elphaba is in her tower. Try not to spook her too much when you go up there, okay? She's…not doing great."
Glinda, lips still tingling from Fiyero's confounding kiss, cautiously ascended the steps until she came upon Elphaba's witch tower. Elphaba stood with her back to the door, beating some dust out of a thick drape. Following Fiyero's advice, Glinda knocked softly on the door to announce her presence.
"Elphie?"
Elphaba turned, faintly surprised to see Glinda before her.
"Glinda."
Even a short few weeks had brought changes to Elphaba's body. She looked as if she could be due any day. But the size of the baby was not the only change. Elphaba's hair was limper, her shoulders slacker, her eyes…sadder.
"I'm back."
"I can see that."
Elphaba turned back to the drapes and shook more dust out of them.
"What are you doing?"
"Cleaning."
"Why?"
Elphaba didn't answer, she merely continued with her tasks. Glinda sighed, growing agitated over Elphaba's cold and clipped reception.
"Nobody will tell me what's going on," Glinda complained.
"Well now you know how I felt."
"Are we not going to talk, Elphie? Really?" Glinda said. "I've been gone for two weeks."
"Yes, tell me," Elphaba said sarcastically, expelling the dust she'd released from the drape out a nearby open window. "How was your apprenticeship?"
"Let's just say you're in for a world of hurt."
Elphaba stopped cleaning, her movements slowing until she was perfectly still.
"Yes," Elphaba murmured, as if to herself. "Yes I am."
Glinda didn't like Elphaba's tone.
"Elphie—"
Elphaba began cleaning again, now at twice the speed. She grabbed a stack of dusty books and began shelving them in a case in the corner.
"Elphie," Glinda tried again. "Can't you stop for a moment? Can't we talk?"
"I've got too much to do."
"Elphaba?" Glinda said, desperate to get a reaction. Any rise out of her at all. "Fiyero kissed me!"
"About time," Elphaba said, nonchalantly continuing her task. "Your flirting was getting unbearable."
"It felt…" Glinda said in a troubled voice. "Oh, Elphie. It felt like he was kissing me goodbye."
Elphaba kept stacking her books. Glinda, who had had enough, stomped over to Elphaba, ripped the books from her hands, and flung them aside.
"Enough! Enough, Elphie. Why are you in such a tizzy?" Glinda asked. "What in Oz are you up to?"
"You should recognize it," Elphaba muttered. "It's in your book."
"Elphie—"
"I'm nesting," Elphaba said, finally looking up to meet Glinda's eyes.
Glinda's face fell. "Oh…"
"Yes," Elphaba said hoarsely. "My body keeps telling me to clean, to organize, to prepare for the baby…" She shook her head and issued a heartbroken chuckle. "But I can't prepare anything for the baby. I've no crib to assemble, no nursery to decorate…"
Elphaba closed her eyes.
"But I had to do something. So…I'm preparing for something else."
Glinda finally took a closer look at her surroundings. The Grimmerie was on proud display in its stand. Elphaba's broom stood by, propped against a wall beside an unlit mounted torch. Her old dress, recently mended, hung neatly on a hanger with its companion hat above it on a nail. Lastly, an empty bucket sat dead center in the room, a focal point for a performance that had yet to take place.
"What are you preparing for?" Glinda asked in a tiny voice.
Elphaba gestured to her tower.
"The end."
Glinda's heart started pumping anxiously.
"You'd better tell me what's going on here, Elphie," Glinda demanded. "And I'll have none of that cryptic nonsense you're so apt to do. Why are you cleaning? Why did Fiyero kiss me? Why did he say he'll miss me?" Glinda asked. "Elphie. What…ending…are you preparing for?"
Elphaba smiled brokenly.
"The end of The Witch."
Elphaba approached Glinda and took her hands.
"I'll tell you, Glinda, but I need you to listen. I need you to accept it. And…I need you to not try and talk me out of it."
Glinda did not verbally agree, but she allowed Elphaba to continue.
"Glinda…after the baby is born Fiyero and I are leaving Oz."
"No," Glinda said, already shaking her head.
"Glinda listen to me—"
"No!"
Glinda tried to turn away but Elphaba held her hands firmly so she couldn't.
"Glinda you must listen to me! You must. Because…because I don't have any fight left inside of me! Please, Glinda. Please," Elphaba begged hoarsely. "Listen to me."
"No."
"If you love me at all, if you ever have, you must hear what I need to tell you," Elphaba pleaded. "Hear what I need to ask of you."
Glinda stopped fighting with a teary whimper but she still couldn't bear to look at Elphaba. Elphaba lifted her hand to Glinda's face and wiped her tears clean with her fingers.
"Cry if you must," Elphaba whispered encouragingly. "Cry, my Glinda. Cry…but listen."
"Okay," Glinda sniffled. "I'm listening."
"If I don't leave Oz I'll be killed…and I think that deep down you understand that," Elphaba said with gentleness. "So soon I'll have to go…and Fiyero has chosen to go with me."
"But—" Glinda sniffled. "But it's dangerous out there, Elphie. You could die. You could be killed!"
"You're right. But it's a better chance than my staying," Elphaba said meaningfully. "Am I wrong?"
Glinda sighed sharply, angry to be confronted with the unpleasant truth.
"They're horrid, Elphie. Simply horrid."
"Good, Glinda. Good. Admitting it is the first step."
"You're not funny. You have never been so horribly unfunny," Glinda scolded.
"I'm sorry."
"They can't do this to you, Elphie. These bullies can't just run you out like this!" Glinda said. "There's still hope. There is always, always hope."
"I know you believe that. I love you for that," Elphaba said sincerely. "But it's like I told Fiyero. I can't risk something so precious on what ifs…or on something as fickle as hope. I need to trust my instincts…and need you to trust them too."
Glinda tore her hands from Elphaba's.
"And why should I? It's your instincts that have led us to this very spot!"
Elphaba softly flinched and Glinda's face fell in instant regret.
"Elphie. I didn't…I didn't mean—"
Elphaba held up a hand.
"No, no. You're right. Why shouldn't you speak the truth? My instincts have forged this path. My wins, losses, my mistakes. And we could sit down and pick apart my life, see where I went right, see where I went wrong…but the truth is it doesn't matter. Because it's far too late to look back now. There is only forward."
Elphaba sighed heavily.
"And you're allowed to hate me, you know? For all the things I've done. For the many things you blame me for—up to and including this. I wouldn't fault you if you wanted to call it quits on me, Glinda. You could. If everything between us has gotten too confusing," Elphaba gestured between the two of them. "Too…much."
Glinda looked away and closed her eyes. Elphaba sighed and eased herself to sit upon the large, low windowsill. She was quiet for a long, pensive moment.
"Do you ever wonder if you and I had it right from the jump, Glinda?" Elphaba thought aloud. "Our first instincts were to hate—no, loathe each other. Even in the best of times our bond has been tumultuous. Could it be that we really are enemies fighting tooth and nail against our own nature…in order to be friends?"
Glinda thought about this.
"I don't know, Elphie," Glinda confessed. "But if that's true? Then it's a fight worth fighting. The most worthy fight there is."
Glinda went to sit beside Elphaba on the windowsill.
"But for the record, I don't believe it. I don't believe that's true. You want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I've tried," Glinda nodded. "I've tried to hate you. I've tried to loathe you! I tried to hate you for defying The Wizard. I tried to hate you for never reaching out. I tried to hate you for running off with Fiyero. And right now? I am trying to hate you for leaving me behind. I'm trying, Elphie, with all my might I'm trying."
Glinda closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
"But as mad as I get—which is super, super mad…it's no use. I cannot bring myself to hate you, Elphaba. I can't. I'm just…" Glinda shrugged helplessly. "No good at it."
Glinda opened her eyes and took Elphaba's hand tightly in her own.
"Love sets itself in stone, Elphie. That much I've learned for sure. I've tried and tried to chip away at it but no matter what I do, no matter what you do, there's always a little bit left. A little bit of Elphie on my heart."
Elphaba swallowed tightly and rested her head on Glinda's shoulder.
"Can we clean the slate, Glinda?" Elphaba asked. "Maybe I've no right, but I ask forgiveness. For all the things you've tried to hate me for."
"You have it, Elphie," Glinda said softly. "May I have your forgiveness?"
"You have it."
Elphaba lifted her head and looked at Glinda.
"And now that you've heard my apologies…" Elphaba said, tucking a curl behind Glinda's ear. "Please hear my gratitude, and the many thank yous you are owed."
"You owe me nothing, Elphie—"
"I owe you everything," Elphaba stressed softly. "I owe you everything, dear girl. For the risks you've taken. For saving Fiyero's life. For bringing me vitamins and pestering me to put my feet up. For learning how to bring my baby into this world."
Elphaba shook her head, overwhelmed by Glinda's impact.
"For giving me my hat. For dancing with me at the OzDust. For coming with me to The Emerald City. For trying, and failing, to make me popular."
Elphaba and Glinda chuckled sadly and leaned their foreheads together.
"For being my first and only friend. For loving me," Elphaba whispered. She took a deep breath. "And for the things you've yet to do."
Glinda sat back and looked at Elphaba curiously.
"What have I yet to do?"
Elphaba turned forward, observing the room she'd been setting. She supposed it was finally time to fill Glinda in on her part of the plan. The future wouldn't wait.
"Help me up?" Elphaba requested.
Glinda offered her arm and assisted in hoisting Elphaba off of the sill. Elphaba crossed to the bucket in the center of the room and gestured to it.
"We're going to fake our deaths," Elphaba said. "Fiyero and I. You must let Oz believe it. Let them celebrate and spread the word that goodness has won."
Elphaba looked over at The Grimmerie, picture perfect on its stand. She crossed to it and held it out for Glinda to take.
"Then see to it that it actually does."
Glinda's lips parted as she looked upon the book of spells.
"No, Elphie. I can't read that…I can't—"
"Even so, you must take it. Use it if you can, and if you can't, see that it never falls into the wrong hands," Elphaba urged. "Go on, now. Take it."
"Won't you need it, Elphie?"
"Oz needs it more."
"But there could be spells that aid you in such a hopeless land!" Glinda said. "Spells that help you stay safe until you get to where you're going…wherever that may be."
"Well, I've considered renouncing magic entirely upon leaving. It's never caused me anything but trouble."
"I'm sorry. I am sorry, Elphie. I've heard you out but I must speak," Glinda said firmly. "I cannot wrap my head around why you wouldn't bring every tool available for your journey. I don't doubt your headstrongness for the sake of yourself. But Elphie, don't be so stubborn as to refuse something that could help your baby in such rough conditions!"
Elphaba was still for a moment before numbly setting The Grimmerie aside.
"Glinda…" Elphaba said faintly. "You misunderstand—"
"No, Elphie. I know I cannot talk you out of your plans, but please don't give me that book. You have your boy to think about! It's—it's treacherous beyond Oz! It must be, right? There are deserts, marauders! That is no place for a child," Glinda put her hands over her heart and shook her head. "Oh, I have the sickest feeling over it, Elphie. How are you and Fiyero supposed to travel all that way with a little baby?"
Elphaba offered Glinda a tiny, tragic smile.
"That's just it, Glinda…we're not."
Dreadful understanding dawned on Glinda's face.
"What?"
"It's like you said. We couldn't possibly subject him to such danger. That's why—" Elphaba's voice hitched and she clutched her heart to continue. "That's why…he's not coming with us."
"But…but I don't understand," Glinda said in a small voice. "Don't do this, Elphie. He needs you. You're his mother!"
"That's right I am. I'm his mother and he's my baby. My sweet, perfect baby boy," Elphaba said in a trembling voice. "I did not ask for him. He isn't here on purpose. But now that he is…oh, Glinda. The world will never be the same. Oz will never be the same. Fiyero will never be the same…and I—" Elphaba's voice broke. "Will never be the same."
"Nor will I," Glinda said.
"I want my son to have the best life he can possibly know, Glinda. Here in Oz," Elphaba insisted. "And you know what? Oz will be better too…just by him being in it. I can feel it. It's like…a prophecy."
Elphaba stepped towards the wide window overlooking Oz. She gestured out of it as she spoke, illustrating her vision.
"I can see the life I want for him, Glinda. I can see it so clearly," Elphaba began softly. "I want him to have safety. Comfort. I want him to have toys, books, and music. I want him to get an education. Go to college when he's grown. Hell—maybe he'll even go to Shiz and see the place where we three collided. Wouldn't that be something?" Elphaba chuckled wistfully. "I want him to dance like his father or read like his mother or forge a path that's completely his own. I want him to laugh. I want him to have friends. I want him to know love. Real, enduring, unselfish love," Elphaba professed, looking back to Glinda. "I want him to be kind. I want him to be free. I want his life to be…unlimited."
"So do I," Glinda whispered.
"I know you do…and therein lies what I must ask of you, Glinda. The final and biggest favor I could ever request. One I could not pay back in a thousand lifetimes."
"Anything, Elphie. Absolutely anything," Glinda said emphatically. "Say the word."
Elphaba approached Glinda and took her hand in both of hers.
"A mother's job is to give her baby his best chance…and that's what I've set out to do," Elphaba said calmly. "But I'm limited. Fiyero and I both are. Our baby's best chance isn't with us…" Elphaba took a deep breath. "It's with you."
"Me?" Glinda said.
"Yes, Glinda. You. Just look at you! You can do all we cannot do. See that he gets all we cannot give. Don't you see? He needs you. His godmother…" Elphaba smiled tragically and brought Glinda's hand to her heart. "His Auntie Glinda."
"But—I've never taken care of a baby before," Glinda said. "I've never taken care of anything before!"
"You mustn't think I'm expecting you to parent him, Glinda. No, no. I could never ask you to take him in yourself," Elphaba assured her. "Not with your position. Not after all you've already done."
"Then what shall I do?" Glinda asked in a small voice.
"All I need…is for you to bring him somewhere safe. Somewhere that will raise him away from all of the noise, the hatred, the pain," Elphaba whispered. "Somewhere that he can grow up peacefully and…and…"
Elphaba's lips began to tremble and she let out a shuddering sound.
"Elphie?" Glinda said, pressing her hand to Elphaba's cheek.
"And I need you to make sure he's not alone," Elphaba blurted with a dry, desperate sob. She covered her hand over Glinda's with a pleading grip. "I need you to make sure he's loved. Oh, Glinda. If nothing else—please. Please. Make sure my baby boy is loved."
Glinda's heart pounded as she stared into Elphaba's desperate, bloodshot eyes. She could feel the full weight of the responsibility she was about to take on. Still, the answer was easy. The answer was so, so easy.
"Okay, Elphie," Glinda whimpered. "Okay, yes. I'll do it."
"You will?"
"He'll be safe. He'll be free. He'll be loved. Oh, Elphie. He'll be so very, very loved."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise. On my life I promise."
With a great gasp of relief, Elphaba collapsed into Glinda for a hug and began softly weeping into her curls. Dissimilar from the hormonal blubbering early in her pregnancy, Elphaba's cries were quiet with grief. With gratitude.
"There's one more thing," Elphaba mumbled. "Promise me one last thing and I'll ask nothing else of you until I die."
She pulled out of the hug and met Glinda's eyes again with intense, renewed focused.
"You must swear to me that nobody will ever find out where he's from. Who he is. Who his parents are…" Elphaba said seriously. "Not even him."
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said in a hushed tone. "Surely when he's old enough…surely when he's grown I could find him and—"
"No," Elphaba asserted firmly. "Never. Never, Glinda. He cannot ever, ever know."
"But think of how horrendibly people talk about you, Elphie! Think of the lies he'll be taught! He may well grow up to think of you like everyone else does!"
"Let him."
"Elphie…" Glinda said, disbelieving.
"Perhaps it's better that way," Elphaba said, though her eyes were troubled. "He'll be spared the burden. He'll be spared the shame of being the son of a witch."
"Then if not for you then for him. He deserves to know how much his parents loved him. How much they sacrificed for him—"
"No," Elphaba said fiercely. "If anybody ever asks…just tell them the truth. That his parents weren't able to raise him. That you don't know what became of them…but you know they wanted him to have a good life. The best life he could know."
Glinda wavered. It seemed so cruel. To not only continue feeding lies about the Wicked Witch to Oz…but to her very own child? Glinda could sense the impending burden to come. To forever don a mask and make a show of hating the people she loved most in the world. To lie to their son. To withhold stories from a boy who would already be missing out on the joy of knowing his parents.
"Promise me, Glinda," Elphaba urged. Then, softer. "Promise me please."
"Okay, Elphie…" Glinda relented with an ache. "I promise."
She crossed her heart with her finger before holding out her pinky to Elphaba, an old gesture she used to do at Shiz. Elphaba looked at it for a moment before taking a step closer to Glinda and delicately brushing the curls out of her face to see her more clearly.
"Seal it with something else."
Elphaba tipped Glinda's chin up and pressed her mouth against hers to share in their first kiss. Glinda's eyes closed and after a moment of quiet shock, she kissed Elphaba back. Glinda's lips were impossibly soft and sweet to the taste, her tongue dainty as it touched featherlight against Elphaba's. The exchange was tied in an aromatic bow as Glinda's perfume imprinted their moment into Elphaba's mind. She welcomed this, hopeful that the sense memory would bring her warmth in the dreaded days to come when her Glinda would be far from her heart.
Night fell fully and Glinda assisted Elphaba down the steep set of stairs to return her to Fiyero's capable care. She reiterated the promise she'd made to Elphaba to him and he hugged her tighter than he'd ever hugged her. Which was saying something.
Glinda took a deep breath and gave them both a brave smile.
"Well this has been fun," she said tragically. "I'm sure you both must be very weary. I'll be off to let you rest—"
"Wait."
Elphaba reached to grasp Glinda's hand before she could leave.
"Yes?"
"Stay," Elphaba requested quietly. "Stay the night. Just this once. Just for tonight."
Glinda's eyes flicked to Fiyero who nodded in agreement.
"Please, stay," Fiyero echoed Elphaba's sentiments. "For all we know it could…"
The three lapsed into silence, but the answer was clear anyway. Any day could be their last day, any night their last night. There was no telling when goodbye would come, and when it did, it would likely be goodbye for good.
"Of course," Glinda agreed. "I'll stay."
There was both tension and a sense of calm as the three prepared for bed. Glinda borrowed a nightgown Elphaba had long grown out of and removed her make-up, but she forewent her usual hair roller routine. Waking up to limp hair in the morning was a small price to pay for more time with Elphaba and Fiyero. When she stepped back into the room they were sitting in bed, dressed for the night. Elphaba's hair was collected off to one side as Fiyero sat behind her, massaging her stiff neck and shoulders. One of Elphaba's hands was over her stomach, an uncomfortable grimace on her face.
"Okay there, Elphie?" Glinda asked softly.
"Just some false pains."
Elphaba exhaled slowly to signal the end of the tiny contraction and checked her watch.
"Are they getting longer?" Glinda asked.
"Marginally, but they're still erratic," Elphaba explained. She turned her head to gratefully kiss Fiyero on the cheek. "I think he's eager to come out. If only he knew the mess that awaited him out here. Perhaps he'd stay in longer."
Elphaba held out her hand to Fiyero and he helped her situate upright against the headboard in the center of the bed. Once settled she returned both of her hands to her stomach, tracing tiny circles upon it with her long fingers. Fiyero moved to sit on her left side.
"Can you imagine a worse situation to be born into?" Elphaba asked neither of them in particular. "Can you fathom an unluckier child?"
Glinda and Fiyero exchanged a glance and Fiyero beckoned for Glinda to join them. Glinda crawled onto the bed to sit on Elphaba's right side.
"Well…yes. Yes I can," Glinda answered earnestly. "I can imagine scores of children less fortunate than him. This baby has not one, not two, but three people who would do absolutely anything for him. That's an awfully lucky baby to be born into so much love."
"Glinda's right," Fiyero agreed.
"Elphie, I've been thinking…perhaps you could write him a letter?" Glinda suggested. Elphaba was already shaking her head. "You wouldn't have to sign it as yourself, just as his mother! Or perhaps you could leave him something of yours, an heirloom to keep?"
"No. I want him to have nothing of me. I don't want to give him anything. Not a letter, not an heirloom, not…" Elphaba paused. "Not even a name."
Fiyero's face went grim.
"Fae…you don't mean that, do you?"
"I do," Elphaba answered. She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "And I knew you two would fight me on it. So fight me on it."
"Elphie, he needs a name," Glinda insisted. "It's your right as parents to name him."
"Well we won't be his parents, now will we?" Elphaba said, sharper than she intended. "Don't you see? If we name him he'll be ours. Forever ours."
"He will be—" Fiyero began to say.
"No he won't," Elphaba hissed.
Fiyero closed his eyes and swallowed. Elphaba sighed heavily.
"Oh. It's whiplash to love me, isn't it?" she sympathized. "I'm sorry for that."
"You and Fiyero have already given up so much," Glinda shook her head. "Why deny yourselves the one right of passage you can have? Besides, if you don't give him his name…how will you ever learn what it is?"
"Exactly my point. I never will. And…I never want to," Elphaba said. "It sounds wicked, I know. It sounds cold. And maybe it is! But…it's the choice that I've made."
Elphaba couldn't bring herself to articulate to Glinda and Fiyero what she was bracing herself to do. In a way, her heart was nesting too. Preparing for what was to come. It was building walls, establishing distance, and making plans to guard itself. To detach.
"You don't have to like it…but I'm asking you to let me have this," Elphaba said. She looked at Fiyero and took his hand. "I am begging you to let me have this."
Fiyero took a deep breath through his nose before squeezing Elphaba's fingers. He leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Of course, my Fae," Fiyero permitted. "You do not have to name him."
Elphaba kissed him gratefully, recognizing his compromise, before they turned the light out and settled into bed. Elphaba turned on her right side to face Glinda and Fiyero spooned her from their hearts lighter, their future more hopeful, the affection between the three might have resulted in something beyond their tender nestling. But for that moment it was enough, perhaps it would even be enough forever, to know that there was enough love between the three of them to share.
"I could use some of your hope, Glinda," Elphaba whispered after a long silence.
"What shall I hope for you?" Glinda asked softly.
"Can you hold out hope for Oz for me?" Elphaba asked weakly. "You've always had more faith in people than me. Faith that people can grow and change for the better. I need you to take The Grimmerie…and do all you can to make Oz a kinder place for our son to grow up in."
"I can do that, Elphie. And I'll hope for even more than that."
"What's that?"
"I'll hold out hope that we'll meet again. All of us," Glinda whispered. "And…I'll hold out hope that you both get to meet your baby boy. One day."
"Thank you, Glinda," Fiyero said in a hoarse whisper.
Elphaba said nothing for a moment.
"Hold out hope for the impossible if you must, my sweet. If that's what you need to do," she allowed. "And I'll do what I need to do."
Neither Glinda nor Fiyero liked Elphaba's tone, but they didn't press her. The baby shifted in Elphaba's belly and she exhaled.
"I know, baby. I feel you," Elphaba said. "I'm here."
"We're here," Fiyero murmured. He reached past Elphaba and took Glinda's hand, placing it to rest on the side of Elphaba's stomach before placing his hand over hers. "We're all here."
Together, Elphaba, Glinda, and Fiyero sheltered the boy they'd all come to adore in a protective awhile, nobody spoke. They simply enjoyed the warmth of their closeness as they felt their baby kick. Elphaba was the one to eventually break the silence, and when she did, her voice was weak and weepy.
"Glinda? I've had the hardest time getting rest lately. Would you…" Elphaba whimpered. "Would you please sing me to sleep?"
"Of course, Elphie," Glinda breathed. "Of course I will."
Fiyero and Elphaba settled into their spooning embrace and closed their eyes. Glinda admired the faces of her loved ones and took a deep breath.
"Somewhere over the rainbow…way up high," Glinda began to sing. "There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue…and the dreams that you dare to drea—" Glinda's voice broke, a rough sob rising to her throat as the lyric spoke too closely to her heart. "Dare to dream…really do come true."
The first phrase had been enough to work its magic. Fiyero and Elphaba were already sleeping soundly in enchanted rest. A single, stilled tear remained stuck on Elphaba's cheek and Glinda brushed it away before continuing with her song.
She sang as if she were casting a spell. Saying a prayer. Making a wish.
"Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops. That's where you'll find me…"
Her usually dulcet voice was hoarse and squeaky, cracking here and there as she struggled to get her lullaby out. The baby, having been active beneath their hands a moment ago, felt restfully still as if he'd been lulled to sleep as well.
"Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly..." Glinda looked upon Elphaba and Fiyero's sleeping faces. "Birds fly over the rainbow…why then—oh!" Glinda whimpered. "Oh, why?"
Glinda wiped her tears, crying freely as she finished her song, her wishful prayer transitioning into a mournful lament for herself.
"If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow… why, then…" Glinda wept, brushing her fingers over Elphaba and Fiyero's faces. "Oh why…can't I?"