7.
He felt as if someone was dropping a bucket of icy water over his head. His next move on the chessboard was all but forgotten. Elphaba seemed to share his sentiment, for she'd turned very still all of a sudden, then slowly placed the quill on the desk.
"Do you want me to send him on his merry way, Elphie?" asked Glinda, who also noticed her distress.
Elphaba deliberated, but only for a moment. "No," she said calmly, decisively. "No, it's fine, let him in."
The servant nodded, then stepped out. He returned a moment later with Boq in toe. It was the first time in a while he saw his former classmate in human form. It was almost hard to believe he was the sturdy, hardened Tin Man the last time they'd met. He was standing hesitantly on the threshold, holding on to a rectangular box.
"Good evening," he said. They all murmured their replies. "I... was hoping to speak to Elphaba alone, if I may."
"It's Lady Tiggular. And you may not," he replied instantly, instinctively. He was certain she would protest, at the very least for the correction of her name, but she actually looked up at him gratefully. There was the tiniest sliver of fear in her eyes.
"Avaric and I will go speak to the cook about tomorrow's menu," said Glinda, as she and Avaric excused themselves.
Boq didn't say anything as the door closed quietly behind them. The three of them eyed each other carefully. Elphaba came to sit next to him. He reached for her hand immediately, even though she seemed more composed. "You look well, Boq," she said eventually, probably feeling committed to break the silence. "I'm glad it worked."
"Thank you. Glinda explained… I know now you meant well." Elphaba nodded, but didn't speak further. He couldn't figure out if she was giving him a hard time on purpose, or if she genuinely just waited to hear what he'd come for.
There was a rather long pause. Boq cleared his throat, his eyes shifting between the two of them. "Congratulations. Back at Shiz, I had no idea that the two of you - "
"Neither had we, I think," replied Elphaba, smiling shyly. He laced their fingers together and squeezed lightly.
"All this time with Dorothy, you never said a word," Boq told him.
"I didn't know if I could trust you," he replied honestly.
Boq nodded; he seemed embarrassed. "Well, the reason I'm here, umm... I was hoping to make amends." He sat on an armchair close to Elphaba's side, and handed her the box he was holding. "This was your sister's. I managed to smuggle it out of her residence after she... after what happened to her. I intended to keep it, but I know now I had no right to even consider it. It isn't much, but it's yours."
Very slowly, Elphaba opened the lid, then peeked inside and gasped. She lifted her gaze to Boq briefly before turning it back into the content of the box. Her fingers were visibly shaking as she reached inside. She didn't seem aware of the tears that filled her eyes almost instantly.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's my mother's jewelry," she whispered, amazed, as she pulled out some of the items for him to see. Pearls and diamonds and precious stones of various shapes and colors, all glimmering in the soft light. There weren't many items, but each of them looked unique, and exquisitely made. "Somehow I never even wondered what has become of them after my father's death."
"You had other things on your mind," noted Boq softly.
"Like those stupid jeweled shoes which weren't even my size," she replied with a snort of dismay.
"I was referring to your need to survive, but sure, that too."
But Elphaba wasn't smiling. She seemed genuinely touched. "Thank you, for bringing them to me. And I'm so sorry that Nessa - Growing up, our father has never denied her anything, so she wasn't exactly used to not getting her way." She shook her head sadly. "For what it's worth, I know she loved you, in her strange, possessive way."
"Thank you for saying that, but I know I have my share in what happened. I should have been more careful with her heart, that evening."
"Well, she should have been more careful with yours." They shared a brief, sad smile. "So that memoir of yours - "
"Oh, don't. I'm so embarrassed."
"Will you publish?" he found himself asking, his tone harsher than he'd intended. Elphaba flashed a warning glare at him, but he kept his eyes on Boq.
"It will require some major rewrites if I do," he said with a hint of frustration. "It's lucky it hasn't gone to print just yet."
"Lucky," he smirked, remembering Elphaba using the exact same words just a few days ago. "Well, if you ask me, you're way too young to have a memoir."
"You're probably right." The air was lighter now, charged with reconciliation rather than hostility and fear. "Well, I've taken enough of your time." He stood up and offered Elphaba his hand. "I hope we can put it all behind us."
Elphaba smiled, then shook his hand. "I'd like that. And I hope we'll see you at the banquette?"
"Oh," he seemed taken aback by the hinted invitation. "I suppose. I hope you'll save at least one dance for me," he half said, half asked.
She chuckled softly. "I'll remind you I'm not much of a dancer. But I will if you insist."
They walked Boq to the entrance, and as they closed the door behind him, Elphaba let out a heavy sigh, clutching her mother's jewelry box to her chest. Avaric and Glinda appeared from a side door. Glinda looked worried, but a nod from Elphaba instantly put her at ease. He could only hope Boq was only the first of many reconciliations yet to come.
The next few days were a blur of visitors and meetings, the vast majority of them - shockingly enough - meant for Elphaba. Whether they were people who sought actual advice or those who wanted to brag about seeing her close up and personal, by the end of the second day it was as if she'd never been a fugitive, as if she'd never had to fake her own death. In a matter of two days she'd gone from being the Wicked Witch of the West to being Lady Tiggular to simply being Miss Elphaba. Glinda's title (which was a bit of a mouthful in its own right) didn't stick, mostly because Elphaba didn't allow it, urging people to just refer to her by her name. It showed them what he'd known all along - that she wasn't interested in a fancy title, she genuinely just wanted to get the work done. And people responded to it. Some who had initially averted the simplest touch now said their farewells with the warmest of hugs. It was staggering to watch. And Elphaba was handling herself with never-ending poise and grace. As she once told his parents, she was not one to hold grudges, and it was more apparent now than ever.
By the end of the second day he found her at the nursery, fast asleep on an armchair by the twins' crib with Talleen sleeping in her lap. "I haven't seen them all day," she whispered guiltily as she followed him to their bedroom after placing their daughter in her bed. He, too, was exhausted, but not only from surveying Glinda's plans for the new parliament.
"We might as well put Glinda out of her misery and just tell her that we're moving back," he joked as they finally crawled into bed. "I think she's running out of ideas to lure us back here, and her efforts are beyond tiring."
But she didn't smile, she didn't even seem amused. "Do you really not mind if we move back?" she asked him earnestly. "I mean, I think this is where we're most needed now, and we can make a real difference here, but if you have any doubts - "
"You already are making a difference here," he cut her off. "It would be wrong to decide otherwise. Not just because I'm terrified of refusing Glinda."
This time a shadow of a smile softened her expression. "In that case, maybe if tomorrow is as mad as today - "
"It will be, possibly even worse."
"Then you could find us a house?"
"A house?" he echoed in mock-disappointment. "Not a castle? Are you sure?"
"Oh, you and your castles," she ruffled his hair fondly.
"Well, I am a prince, Your Spectacularness."
"Don't call me that," she giggled, then seriousness snuck into her voice. "So, we're moving back?"
He leaned closer until their noses were nearly touching. "We're moving back," he whispered, a promise sealed with a kiss.