Chapter Text
Glinda wakes feeling more satisfied and rested than she has in months. The morning sun starts to beam through the window, glaring across her eyes. She stretches, feeling the ache of sore muscles from a long night spent at her desk, but as she lifts her arms they get caught on something.
Glancing down, there’s a black cloak draped over the top of her blankets. She stills.
Memories of last night flash quickly through her head, and she blinks numbly as she processes. Another dream, but—
Slowly lifting her left hand she stares at it for a long time. Sitting on her pinky lies a dark ring that she knows belongs to one person.
Elphaba’s alive. Last night was real.
Her breath stutters in her chest. Alive. She’s alive.
The relief cracks her open, shakes the foundation that she’s been living on for the past four months. She snags the cloak and pulls it tight enough to her chest that her knuckles go white. It’s proof, physical proof that her best friend is alive and there’s no way she’s going to let it go.
Sinking back into bed she lets herself just feel.
There’s hope and happiness and relief but there’s also anger and disbelief and hurt. There’s so much hurt. The emotions are overwhelming and she’s not quite ready to handle them this early in the morning. Her magic responds and she tries to shift it into something harmless.
Pink bubbles explode through her room, all shapes and sizes.
Pink shards of glass start to appear as well. Rhomboids of glittery pink, that reflect scattered daylight onto her walls. They all float, suspended and frozen in place. It’s a strange sort of beautiful. Still, she can’t help the way they shatter on the floor as her heart aches.
She has so many questions. She plays with the situation in her head, trying to figure out why Elphaba made the choices she made. And Fiyero.
She sits up quickly. Fiyero is alive too. That betrayal stung. His death stung. This stings worse.
But they’re alive.
Unfortunately, she’s still Glinda the Good who has a job to do. She has a morning of meetings across town and a ribbon cutting ceremony for the new Animal hospital in the East District. Giving herself another five minutes to feel all the things, before doing what she does best, and puts on her best face. Sliding out of bed, she throws the cloak on. Still feeling as though she needs a reminder that it’s real. She’s not dreaming.
Her eyes snag on the bedpost. Elphaba’s hat is gone.
Panic, deep and visceral, starts to build. She’s left behind, again, and Elphaba isn’t here. Is there a reason she had to leave. Is that all she gets? One night to flip her life on it’s head when she wasn’t even sure she was awake?
She walks to her vanity, sure she’ll find herself looking slightly mentally unstable. Her eyes are rimmed red, the cloak hanging off her frame. Her gaze snags on a piece of paper tucked under the corner of her hand mirror. The handwriting is intimately familiar.
She breathes out something close to relief, even as the worry stays, as she reads. She’ll be back tonight. She just needs to make sure Fiyero doesn’t worry about where she went. She’s sorry.
She better be. But then again, Glinda has a lot to be sorry for as well.
Glancing around the room, a different horror overtakes Glinda. Elphaba saw her rooms like this? She needs to tidy up. Her desk is a mess of papers with the Grimmerie sitting on top. Dust lines every surface. Clothes are strewn around the floor of her closet in haphazard fashion.
To make matters worse, the floor is now covered in pink glass and sticky with bubble residue.
Closing her eyes, she centers herself and resigns herself to a day of anxiously watching the clock.
Oz, she needs some coffee.
———
She endures the meetings like she always does. Sitting poised and gracious, offering insight when needed. They are eons easier now than they were right after she took the Wizard’s place, less strife and less things to fix. Her morning meetings used to take all day, but now she is able to get out before lunch on most days.
The trend seems to be continuing as they are about to wrap up the final item on their agenda. They all know she must get to the East District by noon.
She sits at the head of a very long rectangular table, several leaders and prominent citizens of Emerald City taking up the numerous seats. She faces an empty chair. She glances at her pinky several times throughout the meeting, still needing the constant reminder but it distracts her and they spend a little too long on certain items today because of it. As they close the final discussion, idle chatter takes up it’s place. A few congratulate her on the opening of the Animal hospital and care center.
She beams. It’s been one of her biggest projects this past month. Diverting funds, asking the Animals what needs they have, what gaps in education there are. Each question answered brought up various holes in the overall concept. It took her longer than she liked to tie up all the loose ends and ensure that it the hospital and care center would be well-rounded.
One man she doesn’t recognize leans forward as if he’s sharing a funny joke, “I bet the Wicked Witch would’ve hated all this, huh?” He smiles crookedly, “Another win for the Good Witch!”
A round of cheers echo as the words hit Glinda. The world narrows to the man’s face, the way it shines with a smug sort of happiness. He’s gathered the support of the other people at this table with his comment.
“Actually, no.” The words cut through the cheers, leaving a startled silence in it’s place. She can’t help the way her words level the room, indignation causing her to speak without thinking. “She loved the Animals. The only thing she wanted to do was help them. You can even ask Chistery.”
The silence remains, and a few people start to shift uncomfortably in their chairs. Regaining her composure, a glimmer of hope starts to grow. Maybe she doesn’t need to make grand declarations about Elphaba and the Wizard. Maybe she just needs to start small.
“The last year has been a tough one for Oz. Misunderstanding and blame were easy to pass around. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and don’t believe everything you heard.” She pauses to let that sink in, before lightening the topic. She can’t push too hard yet. “Great meeting today, thank you for your time. Unfortunately, I have to run.”
She stands and leaves the room with a shaky sort of confidence. Wondering if maybe, with baby steps of correcting opinions and pushing people to analyze what they’ve been told, if she can break the illusion the Wizard created.
There’s a thrill that accompanies her as she walks toward the East District. A path to follow that might clear Elphaba’s name and not destabilize all of Oz. She glances at the ring on her pinky finger again.
It lifts her spirits to the point that her smile doesn’t feel as fake when she cuts the ribbon at the hospital. The lights pointed to her face are not as glaring. The cheers and yells are not as overwhelming. She feels steadier.
She is able to escape the event moments later, her stomach starting to growl. Lunch is waiting back in her quarters, and her mind has been begging for a break. It whirs with thoughts of how to sway opinion. She will have to choose her words carefully.
Slowly delegitimize the Wizard. Potentially, paint Madam Morrible as the true villain. It would make her occupancy in Southstairs useful for once.
She’s so distracted by her thoughts she almost doesn’t hear it.
The tiniest mewl.
The clack of her heels stop. The alley she was cutting through goes quiet. Then, there, another little noise. Her head snaps toward it. A old box leans against the wall, a pile of cardboard next to it.
Inching forward, lightly stepping to make her heels quiet, she reaches for the cardboard. There’s another pitiful sound, a squeak of sorts. She pulls the top layers of cardboard away to find a shivering animal.
It’s coat is gray and black, and it’s so tiny. It’s little paws scrape at it’s ears, and Glinda notices the caked mud causing the irritation. Her heart breaks and cracks open. She reaches gently to pick the mud away and is rewarded with a quick swipe of a paw.
There’s a sharp sting and red blooms over her forearm. She flinches, freezing. The animal seems to settle and she tries again. Crouching closer now to keep her balance, the mud quickly crumbles in her hand.
Settling back on her heels, she watches as the cub wiggles and then curls in on itself. It looks content, until a shiver wracks its body. Frowning, she rubs a hand slowly over the fur on it’s back. It rolls over to butt it’s head against her hand, seeking the warmth. She crumbles.
Heartstrings sufficiently tugged, she can’t help but make the decision that the little fellow is coming home with her. She reaches down to pick it up, moving slowly, before tucking it close to her chest.
She hardly notices the way it stains her dress, and instead watches the way it presses closer for warmth. Running the tip of her finger over the bridge of the little creature’s nose, it starts to purr. It’s barely larger than her hand, it’s head resting on her forearm.
She squeezes it just the tiniest bit tighter, throwing the corner of her cloak over him as she strides back toward her rooms.
———
Time moves slowly for the rest of the day. It’s made easier by the addition of her little creature, as she cleans it up and finds it something to eat. Turns out the little creature is mostly white, with tiny black spots across it’s whole body. After an investigation, she’s believes it’s a boy and she assumes it’s some variety of cat.
She’s names him Halcyon.
Time will tell if he’s a Cat or a cat.
She spends the time creating a list for what she needs for him, worrying about when Elphaba will return, practicing the very long list of things she feels they need to talk about, cooing over how cute her little guy is, stealing items from the kitchens, and frantically cleaning her rooms.
Setting the little guy down in the bed she made for him, she walks into her closet.
Her nerves are starting to make an appearance and she’s not quite sure which outfit to choose. She takes at least ten off the hangers, tossing them right back on the rack with disapproval. There’s not really an outfit that says I thought you were dead for four months and I’m glad you’re not but I’m a little upset about it, and I also might be in love with you.
Deciding on a simple dress of glittering blue and pink, it has a sweetheart neckline and flows loosely down from where it’s tight around her waist. She throws the cloak back over the top anyways.
She twists the ring around her pinky. Once. Twice.
Anticipation swirls together with fear. She can’t get rid of the constant underlying terror that Elphaba won’t show up. Glinda could be going mad, her magic shifting her delusions to actual physical evidence. She remembers the way Elphaba’s eyes fluttered closed as she traced the curves of her face, yet a tiny voice in Glinda’s head wonders.
Real or not real?
Young Glinda used to get overwhelmed often. Her Momsie would tell her to clench every muscle, screw up her face in concentration and then slowly breathe out. Relaxing the muscles in her toes and working her way up until her face smoothes out and her hands goes limp. She does it now, forcing her breath out slow. Ignoring any other thought than the clench and release of her muscles.
She feels a smidgeon more relaxed afterwards, but no less nervous.
Changing her shoes again, she throws the cloak back on. It’s warm against the coolness in her rooms, and she inhales deeply. It still smells like Elphaba.
She checks on Hal before deciding to put on a pot of tea. The weather is changing, days shortening and the air turning a touch more frigid. It might help to have something to warm her hands.
Just as the water starts to boil, she hears a whoosh. Then a timid knock on the glass of her balcony door.
Her heart makes itself known by furiously pounding against her chest. Leaving the water, she jogs over to the doors. She doesn’t hesitate before swinging them open.
And there she is, backlit by the glow of Emerald City’s lights. The cold air drifts in as Glinda stands in the doorway, half frozen. There’s a weariness about Elphaba, an exhaustion she can’t quite hide, but her eyes are warm.
“Hi.” The word is a little breathless, slightly timid. As if she’s not sure how she’ll be received.
There is no hesitation in the way that Glinda throws her arms around her.
Elphaba’s skin is cold against her nose as she presses her face into her neck, and she feels Elphaba’s arms slide underneath the cloak to wrap around her waist. Her toes are able to just barely reach the ground, and a faint thought that Elphaba must be wearing taller boots drifts through her mind.
Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and Glinda does her best to memorize the feel of her. Warm and soft in her arms.
Glinda feels awake for the first time in months. Her emotions surge, and she can’t help but begin to cry. She’s not going crazy. She doesn’t have to live in a world without Elphaba in it.
There’s a fear, one that sinks deep in Glinda’s bones, that even though Elphaba is alive — she might not stay.
She ignores the thought for now, even as a resolution burns just as bright to not let that happen.
Elphaba shivers, and Glinda realizes she’s not wearing any sort of jacket. It leaves her green skin on display, which Glinda’s decides immediately she quite likes.
“Elphie! Why aren’t you wearing anything warm?” Glinda separates them, quickly untying the cloak from around her neck and throwing it around Elphaba.
As she fusses with the tie Elphaba responds, amused and teasing. “Well, someone else was wearing my only cloak.”
“Only cloak?” The words are alarmed, and Glinda thinks of the fifty plus cloaks she owns. Elphaba will be going home with at least another one or two. She continues to fuss with the cloak, smoothing her hands over Elphaba’s shoulders so the fabric sits just right. Shaking herself out of it, she grabs Elphaba’s hand. “Elphie, come on. I’ll make you tea.”
She begins to pull them to wear the kettle sits, but she meets resistance. Turning back with confusion, she finds Elphaba looking at her with a sheen in her eyes and a small odd smile.
It makes Glinda a little self-conscious for some reason, “What?”
Elphaba shakes her head and clears her throat. “Nothing.” At Glinda’s pointed look she relents. Still, her words are soft and shy. “It was just nice to hear you call me Elphie. I’ve missed it.”
Glinda beams.
Trying to get her smile under control, she tugs on Elphaba’s hand again. She directs her to the couch that sits in front of the fire.
She disappears to the other room to make up two cups of tea. She adds two dollops of honey to Elphaba’s, remembering the way she used to adamantly defend that she doesn’t prefer it that way until Glinda convinced her otherwise. She still remembers the day she figured it out. A young Elphaba, so pushed aside by her father that she thought she didn’t deserve that bit of sweetness. Glinda had been ready to murder the man.
Shame a heart attack got him first.
The corners of her mouth dip into a frown as she starts to carry the tea back toward Elphaba. In the span of time that Glinda was being pampered by the Wizard and elevated to her role of the beloved Good Witch, Elphaba had lost her father, then her sister, and was seen as the Wicked Witch by all of Oz. It must’ve been horrifically lonely.
And only Fiyero had stood up for her.
The guilt is back tenfold. She rounds the corner, finding Elphaba slumped to the side as her head is propped up by her arm. Glinda stops, a cup of tea in each hand, and stares.
Elphaba looks so tired.
When is the last time she’s felt safe? Swallowing thickly, she crosses the remaining distance to set the tea down. She can’t help but think about her role in this. She never stood up for her, in any way that mattered. She wasn’t a good friend. She stood back as Elphaba was painted into the villain, a threat to all of Oz, when she knew the truth.
She slowly lowers herself onto the seat cushion next to Elphaba. She was hoping not to wake her, but Elphaba’s eyes flutter open.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drift off.” She says as she sits up a little taller. She turns to meets Glinda’s eyes and falters. “What…Glinda are you—”
Glinda doesn’t let her finish, reaching forward to snag one of Elphaba’s hands. She eyes are filled with tears but she doesn’t let them drop. Not yet, she needs to say this. “Elphie, I’m so sorry. I was terrible to you. Even from the very beginning. You didn’t deserve any of this and I should’ve done so many things differently.”
She sniffs, “I’m to blame for so much of your life that’s gone wrong. I thought that I would just have to live with this, and I do, I will, but knowing your alive? I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends if you’ll let me.”
Elphaba looks at her softly, “Glinda, we’ve both done things we regret. I meant it when I said that I’ve forgiven you. And I hope you forgive me too.”
She shakes her head quickly, “No, Elphie, you don’t understand. There’s so much I have to apologize for.”
Elphaba still smiles at her softly, “I’ve already forgiven you.”
Part of her hates how understanding Elphaba is being. She doesn’t deserve it, and Elphaba deserves to know why. Steeling herself, she swallows hard. “Elphie, I’m the reason Nessa’s dead.”
Elphaba straightens, her hands clenching a little tighter, as she sits back a little. “What do you mean?”
Glinda feels like her whole body is trembling. It doesn’t help that memories of that day are flashing in her head. The feeling of betrayal leading her to speak those words. “I—I was the one that suggested they use Nessa.” The words tumble out, her horror of hearing what happened returning, “They wanted to draw you out, and I,” she squeezes her eyes shut, “I said they should use Nessa, create a rumor that she’s in trouble and that you would come.”
The room is quiet outside of the crackle of the wood in the fireplace. Glinda’s heart is in her throat, choking her. It thumps quickly, nervously, the longer that Elphaba stays quiet.
Elphaba is deep in thought, her brows draw together as she looks into the fire blankly. Glinda stares at her face, looking for any shred of what she might be thinking.
When it goes on for over a minute, she can’t help but ask timidly, “Elphie?”
Elphaba still doesn’t look at her, “Nessa’s death isn’t your fault.” Glinda reels back, nearly angry at the dismissal of her role in it. “Morrible is the one who killed her. You know weather magic is her specialty, and it was a tornado that dropped the house on her.”
“Elphaba, you can’t just forget my part in it! I put that thought into her head!”
Elphaba’s voice is strained, “They were just words. You didn’t harm Nessa. You didn’t use magic to kill her. This isn’t your fault.”
Glinda urges, “But it is! So much of it was my fault. If I hadn’t been their mouthpiece, most of it would’ve never happened!”
“Do you want me to be mad at you? I said you were forgiven, and you are.”
Glinda can’t help but stand and start to pace, “Elphie, we need to talk about this. I was complicit. And you know it! The Elphaba I know would be enraged. And you are! We literally fought about it right after Nessa’s death!”
Elphaba stands too, getting agitated. “Why do we need to talk about this? I want you in my life, and I forgave you for all of it. End of story.”
This stops Glinda in her tracks and the anger that’s been bubbling, more self-directed over her own involvement and her own self-hatred, starts to overflow. She tries not to screech, “Why do we need to talk about this? Because I spent four months thinking you were dead! Four months! And it was horrible!” She can’t help how the tears start to fall, “Four months of me overanalyzing every decision I made and how all of it ended up supporting you as being the wicked witch, and eventually leading to your death. How each choice I made, forced you to be more alone.”
Angrily, she swipes a few tears from her face. “And then Fiyero. He broke free. He chose you! I didn’t know how to do that and I hate myself for it.” She huffs out a humorless laugh, “And somehow, I am angry with you. You let me believe that you both were dead. And then tossed the weight of the future of Oz on my shoulders. You said you would never leave me behind, and then you did. And I don’t even get to complain about it, because I deserve it.”
Exhaling forcefully to gather herself, she finishes, “So, you want to know why we need to talk about this? Because I spent four months being devastated that you were gone, and now that I know you’re alive I’m going to do whatever I possibly can to keep you in my life. And that means talking through all of this and letting me do the work to earn your forgiveness so that in five or ten years we aren’t filled with resentment. Because I will not lose you again. I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
The air is tight with tension as Glinda finishes. Her chest heaves after her rant, and there’s a small sense of relief over having it out in the open. She still needs to tell Elphaba about the Wizard, but she needs to find the right time for that.
They stare at each other, letting their history sit between them.
It feels like eons before Elphaba opens her mouth to speak.
“Glin—“ The word is cut off my a pitiful little mewl.
Oh. It is time to feed him. Its terrible timing, but it also gives her a second to breathe. She sends an apologetic look Elphaba’s way before disappearing into the other room.
“What is that?” Elphaba asks from behind her.
She pulls him from the piles of blankets and coos. Fraught emotions already forgotten. “Hi, baby.” She whispers to him while running a soothing hand over the soft fur of his head.
She bustles off to the kitchen to warm some milk.
“Glinda?” Elphaba’s followed her to the small corner that has her little stove.
As the milk warms up on the burner, she turns toward Elphaba. “This is Halcyon, I call him Hal.” He lies snuggles up into her elbow, one of his little paws rubbing over his face. “He’s a little kitten I found alone in an alley on my way back from the ribbon cutting ceremony today.”
Elphaba steps closer, and Glinda’s body reacts to the proximity. Skin tingling where Elphaba’s hand brushes up against her as she gently scratches X’s head. Her breathing goes shallow as their forearms are nearly pressed together.
Elphaba is focused on Hal. Her gaze soft and adoring. Glinda studies the dark green freckles that line her nose. She’s close enough to count them.
Elphaba squints at him. “I don’t think this is a cat.” Glinda follows her eyes and scrutinizes the bundle of fur in her arm. “He’s really young, so it’s hard to tell. But, I think he might be a snow leopard.”
“What?!” Glinda says, alarmed. She’s had been researching young kittens. She’ll need to switch tactics, see if there’s anything different he needs. Her mind spins to the future. Will she need to move? He might need a colder climate than the one they have in Emerald City. Goodness, is she even feeding him correctly? She starts to mumble to herself as she worries. “I might be doing this all wrong. Do you think he still needs milk? Or something different? What if I’m hurting him?” She needs to go to the library, now.
“Glinda, breathe.” Elphaba sets her hands on Glinda’s upper arms. “You’re doing great. Milk is normally the right thing when they’re this young.”
She lets Elphaba’s touch calm her down, the swipe of her thumbs over and back on her arms soothing. She closes her eyes to try and find some sort of calm, even when the whole evening — the whole day — has been a trial in emotional whiplash.
Gently, she steps out of Elphaba’s grip and turns back to the milk. It should be warm now, not too hot either. She tests it on the back of her hand before pouring it into the little bottle she stole from the kitchens downstairs.
Tilting it toward his mouth, he eagerly starts eating. His little paws scrabble at the bottle, catching her fingers with his little claws. It stings, but she doesn’t really care.
He’s precious. Her heart feels as though it’s expanded to three times it’s size each time she looks at him.
They stand in silence as he eats. Watching the way he greedily gulps almost the entire bottle in barely more than a minute or two.
She sets it back on the table, and scratches under his chin with her nails. The purrs that emanate from him vibrate up her arm.
Looking up, she finds Elphaba staring at her with dark eyes. It makes her whole body flush hot.
She doesn’t really know what to do with that. Last night, she kissed her and Elphaba kissed back. But then she ran back to Fiyero. Yet, now she’s back here.
It’s all so confusifying. She’s still trying to come to terms with the fact that her best friend — probably the love of her life — is no longer dead.
She needs a drink.
Instead, she says. “Our tea will be getting cold. I’ll lie him back down and then we can talk?”
Elphaba nods, but doesn’t move. Glinda wishes she knew what she was thinking. Instead, she attempts to give her a quick smile of reassurance and walks past her to the other room to set Hal back down.
Lying him down, she tucks the blankets around him to keep him warm. Privately, she thinks, at least if Elphaba does leave, she won’t be alone anymore. She stays crouched by the floor, looking at him.
She just needs a minute, before they get into it.
There’s still the crackle of the fireplace, and she hears the sound of Elphaba sitting back down on the couch followed shortly by the clink of a tea cup.
Pushing herself up with her hands on her knees, she stands tall and walks back into the room.
Settling back on the couch next to her, she picks of her tea as well. It’s cooled a little more than she’d like but she doesn’t want to go through the process of reheating it. She feels as if she’s said her piece, for now, and gives Elphaba the time to re-start the conversation.
They sit in silence, not exactly comfortable but also not uncomfortable either.
Elphaba sets her cup back down and shifts on the couch so she’s facing Glinda, tucking her leg underneath her. “I did mean it. When I said I’d forgiven you. And before you get upset at me again,” she holds up her to hand to the way Glinda had opened her mouth, “I want to explain why.”
Glinda closes her mouth, nods, and shifts so she mirrors Elphaba.
Elphaba softens, “Glinda you already atoned. You took the role of Glinda the Good and you actually made good. Like today, you opened an Animal hospital. That’s amazing progress! People are happy. Animals walk in Emerald City unafraid. It’s everything I ever wanted, and you made it happen.”
Glinda mouth twists. It still doesn’t feel like enough. “But—“
Elphaba levels a glare at her and she stops. “We can’t undo the past. I made choices. You made choices. I forgive you for them, because I see how hard you’ve been working to fix those mistakes.” She shifts, a little uncomfortable, “I know I hurt you too. Fiyero and I—we hated leaving without telling you. It felt like the right choice at the time.”
“Does it still feel like the right choice now?” Glinda can’t help asking.
“No.” The answer is quick. “I think I would’ve gone crazy.”
“Crazy?”
The look Elphaba gives her now is full of nerves but amused too, “It was kind of dramatic to kiss me right before you knew I was probably going to die.” The teasing fades at the reminder, and seriousness takes it’s place. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
Then, light and nearly breathless, “It’s still driving me crazy.”
The words ignite a desperate sort of hope, along with sending a frenzy of butterflies loose in her stomach. “Crazy in what way?” She asks, the slightest quaver in her voice.
Elphaba leans forward the barest amount, her eyes locked on Glinda’s mouth, and it sends a jolt of heat right to Glinda’s lower stomach. “What do you think?”
Glinda’s gaze flickers between Elphaba’s eyes and mouth, before settling on her lips. It feels like a terrible idea, but Glinda’s been holding herself together by sheer willpower the last few months and her willpower has just about ran out.
When Elphaba sways just a centimeter closer, Glinda gives in.
Their lips connect first, soft and just as perfect as she remembered. She scrambles forward to press against her, knees on either side of Elphaba’s hips. Its not particularly graceful but she doesn’t care. The press and slide of their mouths loosens something deep inside her, and she melts into Elphaba’s body.
Pressing her into the couch, she slides her hands into Elphaba’s hair, along her jaw, anywhere she can touch.
It’s a release, the feeling of coming home, to be in Elphaba’s space.
Elphaba’s hands trace paths of heat over her skin. They kiss as though they are trying to make up for lost time, which maybe they are. There’s an edge of desperation to it, where Glinda barely gives Elphaba a chance to catch her breath between kisses.
Then Elphaba pulls at Glinda’s hips, a delicious fissure of pleasure runs from her core right up her spine. It tears something between a whine and a groan from her that she’s a little embarrassed about, until she sees the way Elphaba’s eyes darken and mouth drops the barest bit open.
From Glinda’s position on top of Elphaba’s lap, she has to bend down the slightest bit to kiss her. She captures Elphaba’s bottom lip as her thumbs swipe across Elphaba’s jaw. She’s aiming to slow the kiss down a little, because they do still need to talk and she’s hoping to at least get Elphaba some flowers before they fall into bed together, but Elphaba clearly has different plans as she breaks the kiss and moves along Glinda’s jaw.
She trails kisses on the underside of Glinda’s jaw and then her throat. Glinda sighs at the feeling, as it’s sending happy little tingles all across her skin, before a gasp escapes. Elphaba has started to suck a mark at the junction between her neck and jaw, just underneath her ear.
It makes Glinda laugh lightly, pushing just a little at Elphaba’s shoulder, “Elphie, come on! I have to go to work tomorrow.” But the words are half-hearted, there’s a little too much satisfaction in her voice.
She feels Elphaba smile against her neck, before pressing a light kiss to the spot and leaning back. Glinda is still smiling, feeling a little delirious and a little drunk on Elphaba, and she feels eons lighter.
Elphaba’s just the tiniest bit out of breath, so Glinda gives her a second to catch it even as her own heart rate needs time to slow down.
“You know that kissing doesn’t magically solve our problems, right?” Glinda can’t help but tease.
Elphaba matches her smile, “No, but it does help.” Glinda can’t argue that.
Leaning forward to rest their foreheads together, they wrap their arms around each other into a loose hug. A nagging thought taps insistently against Glinda’s skull. She tries to ignore it, and just enjoy the moment but it is important.
“Elphie,” she starts, a little unsure. Elphaba hums in response. “What about Fiyero? Are you two still…?”
Elphaba stills before her shoulders slump. Glinda leans backward. “I—yes and no. I suppose. I asked him for time, a break I guess, so I could figure this out.”
She’s not really sure how that makes her feel, but her stomach is a swirling mess of something. “Have you figured it out?”
Elphaba laughs, short and sharp, “No, actually I feel more confused than ever.” Glinda shifts, uncertain, as Elphaba continues, “I didn’t think it was possible to love two people at once.”
Glinda’s heart restarts at triple time, even as her hearing goes a little muffled. Love. Elphaba loves her.
Elphaba’s mouth still moves, and Glinda should probably be paying attention but her brain is stuck. Elphaba loves her. Romantically.
The sun rises in her chest, glaringly bright and warm, making it’s way into her smile. She knows she’s smiling goofily at Elphaba, even as she’s trying to have a likely serious conversation, but Elphaba stops at the look on her face.
“What?” A smile starting to dawn on her face too.
Softer and quieter than she means to, “You love me?”
She’s rewarded with a flush of dark green over Elphaba’s cheeks. “Yeah? I thought that was fairly obvious?” But there’s a subtle nervousness to her words.
“I love you too.” Glinda answers simply, as if she hasn't wanted to say them since realizing Elphaba's alive.
Elphaba smiles wide and soft. It’s one of Glinda’s favorite smiles. Showing off the cute little gap between her front teeth, and seeing the joy reflected in her eyes. Elphaba doesn’t get to smile like this often enough.
She vows to make that happen more often.
Their joy bounces and rebounds off of each other, and the room itself feels giddy. She feels like she could fly. She leans into Elphaba, eyes closing and noses brushing before she gets a low swooping sensation in her stomach. She ignores it as they lean in together, kissing around their smiles.
They feel like they’re tilting.
Breaking the kiss, Glinda finds the room has moved. Or they have? It takes her a second to mentally separate herself from the thought of kissing Elphaba to see that they’re hovering a couple feet in the air.
“Is this you or me?” Its hard for Glinda to tell given that it feels like she’s harnessed the sun in her chest.
Elphaba tugs Glinda closer as they float, “I’m not sure. It might be both of us?”
Glinda looks at her. She looks at the way her hair sways as they twist through the air, the way she looks lighter than when she first arrived tonight, and is struck with the thought, not for the first time, that she would be very happy to do this — make magic together — for the rest of her life.
———
Eventually, they come down. Elphaba answers Glinda’s questions. They bicker, then resolve to talk about things like adults, before they start bickering again. There’s still a thrill in it, a feeling that their loathing era at school was nothing more than building the foundation for a deeper and more understanding relationship.
Elphaba explains the way she faked her death. Glinda tries not to be hurt by the fact that Elphaba could hear her grieving and did nothing.
Fiyero comes up, and there are several questions about him.
“So he’s…?”
“Yes, entirely made of straw.”
“But it saved him?”
“Yes.”
There are complicated feelings, things still needing to be discussed and processed and yelled about, but it feels as though they can get through it. That with time, they’ll be okay.
Soon, the sun starts to rise. It paints the sky pastel pink and orange that reflects of the various angles of Emerald City’s buildings. They’ve moved to the bed, solely for comfort so they can lie horizontal, their hands still intertwined. Glinda had dozed off at one point but has always rose with the sun, barring any late night activities or when she maybe had too much to drink.
She wakes as the sun starts to spread into her room. It’s beautiful, seeing the soft light spread of Elphaba’s sleeping face, and it feels like a new beginning.
—————
Epilogue:
Elphaba wakes to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen. Reaching an arm out to the side, she finds the bed empty. She sighs, and stuffs her head under the blankets for five more seconds before throwing herself out of bed.
It’s chilly, seeing as it’s getting closer to the dead of winter, so she throws on her thickest shawl and, for good measure, also wraps a blanket around her body.
As she rounds the corner in their little cabin, she finds Glinda bustling around the kitchen with a look of extreme concentration.
“What are you doing?”
Glinda jumps, nearly tossing the bowl of shredded cheese in her hands before she gets herself under control. “Oz, Elphie! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I could’ve died!”
“And have you kill us by attempting breakfast instead?” She counters with a smirk.
Glinda gasps, as she always does, “You take that back! I’m learning.”
And the thing is, she is. After the mess of the Melting and Glinda working to stabilize and improve Oz, they decided to move. Glinda had already mostly shifted the leadership of Oz to a council filled with members of each region, so it hadn’t taken more than a few months for her to quietly minimize her duties.
She still has to go back, at least once a month, to put out any fires and ensure that Oz is moving in the right direction. Plus, the people of Oz get worried when they don’t see their Good Witch.
Slowly, Glinda has also slid stories to various newspapers on the truth. The people of Oz are slowly understanding how the Wizard tricked them, and how everything is not as it seemed. It’s not perfect, and for now Elphaba still has to hide from the public, but the fervid energy toward the Wicked Witch is dying.
It’s sweet that she’s continuing to try and clear her name, even as Elphaba feels she’s happy here and content with the past.
Here happens to be a remote corner in Winkie Country, in a derelict cabin that was immediately magicked into something wonderful by both Elphaba and Glinda’s hands.
It’s cold enough that Hal can run wild, before coming home for dinner. He’ll be off to school soon, one that’s just a short bubble ride away.
The other member of their funky little family, happens to be sitting in the favorite armchair, book open as he toasts his straw by the fire.
Elphaba had been immeasurably guilt for a long time about that.
To have someone give up their life for you, to give up their body and their future is a very big thing. She had never had that before. The level of devotion, of sacrifice. It was overwhelming. Fiyero had stood up for what was right, just like she did. There was something mesmerizing about that, to finally have someone stand by her side while she was ostracized and hunted.
She had never had that, and it was hard to quantify.
He was her partner in crime. And it had seemed like her partner, for life. It took a long time to figure out that she loved him, but wasn’t in love with him.
That was reserved solely for Glinda.
Glinda who makes her smile and laugh and feel seen for the first time ever. Who remembers how she takes her tea, and the one spot near her shoulder blade that gets a knot when she reads too long. Glinda who made mistakes, horrible mistakes, and has spent too long trying to make up for them.
Glinda who is a terrible cook, and might poison them all one of these days, but who’s trying to learn.
Eyeing the stove, it looks as though things are going okay with breakfast. The eggs are out, potatoes chopped on the cutting board, and the cheese in Glinda’s hand shredded and ready to be added.
“What are you making?” She walks closer, hugging Glinda from behind.
“I was going to make eggs, and add the cheese to them. And then the potatoes too.” She says as she leans back into Elphaba.
“Make the potatoes how?”
Here, there’s the hesitation. “I was going to just throw them in.”
“Throw them..in? Where?”
“With the eggs! Where else?”
“My sweet, potatoes take a lot longer than the eggs to cook. You’ll have to do them first and then add the eggs. Then cheese.” She smiles into Glinda’s neck, endless amused and charmed by her attempts.
This is at least better than when she tried to make pancakes. She was so excited, as they actually cooked correctly and came out looking right. She had unfortunately switched out salt for sugar. Needless to say, Elphaba ate two very salty pancakes before having to tell the truth.
Glinda pouts, but drops the cheese and slides the potatoes into the pan. “Yero, did you want breakfast?” She calls over her shoulder.
Elphaba twists to look, Fiyero’s nose hasn’t lifted from the book. She smirks, they’re the same in that aspect.
Glinda makes a hmph sound, but doesn’t leave Elphaba’s arms as she snags a bread roll from last night. She throws it at him with surprisingly good aim, Elphaba might see a faint pink sparkle in the air helping to correct it’s flight path, as it hits him right in the forehead.
“Hey!”
They giggle together at his exasperation. Glinda repeats, “Yero, I asked if you wanted breakfast.”
“No, thank you. I’ve got this roll now.” He grins cheekily at them.
Glinda squints, “Is this because I’m cooking?”
Fiyero quickly directs his attention back to his book, “No, no, of course not.” But it’s clear Glinda doesn’t fully believe him. She’s about to argue but the door swings open.
A gust of cold air follows and all three of them shout to shut the door. Hal mumbles something under his breath and he kicks a paw backward to shut the door. It does nothing to dull his excitement, as he bounds into the room.
A few years old now, he’s full size but still figuring out his limbs. They’ve lost two lamps this month alone to his clumsiness. “Mom, Mama check out what I learned today!”
Horror builds as he jumps onto the arm of the couch, jumps over the glass decor that Glinda loves and twists in the air before landing. She blows out a breath as he doesn’t knock any of it over. She feels the way Glinda’s muscles relax at the same time.
She shifts out of Elphaba’s arms to greet him, brushing off the little bit of snow collected on his fur. Elphaba’s heart squeezes just like it always does to see Glinda with him.
The warmth returns as the fire continues to crackle and Elphaba looks at the room, content. Her weird little family. All hers. They argue and bicker but they also laugh together. They have weekly game nights that always end up with someone being ganged up on. She loves it. She loves them.
Fiyero announces he’s going to go on a ride with Feldspur, Hal quickly asking if he can come with, and Glinda makes her way back to the stovetop with determination. She knows Glinda is trying to make breakfast as a way to say sorry. She has to go back to Emerald City for a few days, some bill to sign. But Elphaba knows she’ll bring her back at least five new books to read.
Often, Glinda will bring all the paperwork and notes on a new bill or legal agreement that needs to be created and together, her and Elphaba will sort it out. They really are a great team, as Glinda understands how to make it applicable and Elphaba knows how to make it functional.
The room descends into chaos as Hal details one of his hunts this morning, reenacting the moves and jumps in dramatic fashion. Glinda manages to make a passable attempt at breakfast, and Fiyero winks at the two of them as he bustles out the door with Hal on his heels.
Elphaba leans in the corner of the kitchen, hot cup of coffee in hand, and smiles.