5.
When he finally joined everyone, it felt as though he'd been absent for days, not just mere hours, but he was quickly catching on. He played chess with Avaric, who'd become quite the expert over the years. It was refreshing, playing with an equal, as Elphaba was so shockingly bad at chess. No one even suggested leaving the palace grounds, it was like an unspoken consensus - it all depended on the public statement. Not that he was missing anything; he just reveled at the opportunity to be with his friends. And glancing at Elphaba, the effect of being back with Glinda was actually apparent on her face; her entire demeanor seemed altered. As far as he was concerned, that alone was worth the whole journey over here.
However, as the time of the statement drew nearer, the tension in the palace was getting more tangible. Glinda decided to make her statement from the balcony at the back facade of the palace, thinking, probably, that this way Elphaba wouldn't have to make her way among hostile Ozians if worse came to worse.
"Has there always been a square here?" he asked Elphaba now, as they were waiting anxiously in a tiny room adjacent to the balcony, seeing and yet unseen. It was the size of a cupboard, really, but it offered privacy and quiet, something they could both use tremendously just now.
"I seem to recall Glinda mentioned it in one of her early letters, when she told us about the renovations of the palace. To make the building more accessible to the public. At least it's safer than the city square." She paused as if to listen to the sounds of the slowly filling square below, then looked back at him. "You should probably be with the children," she started softly, but he, who had anticipated it, shook his head adamantly before she even completed her sentence.
"Don't even try. I'm not leaving you. Chistery said he'd watch over them, it's fine."
"I just want to get this over with," she mumbled, her eyes closed.
"Here," Avaric appeared out of nowhere, shoving a small glass of brandy under her nose. "Have a sip of this."
"Thanks, Avaric, I need to relax, not make more of a fool of myself."
"I'm very disappointed. I always assumed you could to hold your liquor."
"Under the circumstances I think it will do more damage than good, but thanks for the offer." Then, her expression sealed, she added, "And I can hold my liquor. Surely better than the two of you."
Knowing she was probably right, he said nothing. Avaric's eyes lit up. "I know a bet when I hear one, Lady Tiggular," he winked at her. She chuckled humorlessly, obviously too distracted to come up with a retort.
Glinda peeked in, dressed to the nines in fluffy, light blue chiffon, her hair and makeup flawless. She flashed them her Glinda the Good smile and twirled. "How do I look?"
"Spellbinding," he said, meaning it. She stood on tiptoes to affectionately kiss his cheek, then glanced at Elphaba and shook her head in dismay. "Dearest, maybe just - black doesn't really endorse the message we're trying to convey here."
"Glinda, we've been through this all morning. I'm not changing. Take it or leave it. Avaric, wait," she said just as he meant to excuse himself. Wordlessly, she took the brandy glass from him and downed it in one go. She shrugged at his astonishment. "Changed my mind. Glinda, do it before it wears off."
Glinda tried to maintain a no-nonsense glare, but couldn't hide her grin. She took a deep breath, and nodded. The crowd erupted in deafening applause as soon as she stepped into the balcony. He felt Elphaba's hand grip his, her nails cutting into his flesh. He squeezed it reassuringly.
"Whatever happens," he reminded her.
She nodded, then took a shaky breath. "Whatever happens."
Glinda raised her hand, and the cheers faded into silence. She lingered for a moment, and then began. "Fellow Ozians."
He had never seen anyone command a stage with such grace as Glinda. The energy emanating from the audience below was palpable. The atmosphere was the complete opposite of hostile. Children were standing on parents' shoulders, their eyes wide with awe; people squeezed in to make room for one another without a word of complaint. It was a sight to behold.
"In my statement several days ago I told you a story about friendship, about betrayal, about injustice. Today I'm here in order to break an old promise I should never have made, with the hope to right some wrongs."
"Is this about the Wicked Witch of the West?"
"I heard she was seen at the train station at midnight."
"I heard she arrived on broomstick, at the dead of night."
"Some say that if you listen closely, you can hear her evil cackle - "
"Enough!" bellowed Glinda, then shook her head, as if she herself was surprised by her tone. "Enough," she added more softly. "This is about the consequences of rumors and false accusations. Ones I have personally assisted in cultivating by not denying them outright, for which I sincerely, profusely, apologize."
She took a breath, embracing herself, it seemed. "See, the truth is, there was never a Wicked Witch of the West. Only a young woman who had the misfortune to be born the wrong color, who happened to have great powers, and who believed she could change the world for the better."
She paused, and threw a glance at Elphaba, who nodded solemnly, in wordless encouragement. "The truth is, she was… she is, my friend. Five years ago, she was forced to fake her own death for her own safety, to be free of persecution. Then, fully aware of the danger to herself, she made her way back here when she thought I was in danger. And I was. We all were. Because we've been lied to and we fell for it. If it wasn't for her, we'd be living in an entirely different Oz now.
"Fellow Ozians, I know we faced some tribulations, but I want to believe I have done all in my power to make you trust me. Together, we opened a new leaf, and began to write a new chapter in the history of Oz. I would like you to continue to trust me. And so," she glanced at Elphaba once more, and took another deep breath. "Allow me to introduce to you... Elphaba Tiggular."