Before the Storm (III/III)
Title: Before the Storm (Part III of III)
Author: Angel Leviathan
Disclaimer: Wicked, characters, concept, etc, aren't mine.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,019
Summary: She wasn’t sure her parents would like the new ‘Glinda’. Not that that mattered now.
Elphaba threw back her covers and clambered from her bed, “We’d best make ourselves presentable before Morrible decides to arrive before we’re ready.”
“We’ve hours yet,” Glinda said.
“You can never be too prepared with that woman on the prowl,” Nanny stoked the fire, trying to encourage it to burn brighter. She tilted her head as she heard Nessa’s sleepy voice calling for assistance, “Nanny’s here, Nessie,” she replied. She headed back into their room and closed the door to give Nessarose some privacy.
Elphaba wandered across the room to rummage in the wardrobe, pulling out, as usual, another shapeless dress in black. She retrieved her other stocking from Glinda’s bed, snatched a small bag of toiletries from her own nightstand, and headed for the facilities.
Glinda sat down on the floor a little way away from the candles, skirts of her dress spreading out around her. What would she have been doing now if she were at home? Making mindless small-talk with some visiting member of the family she pretended to know but had no recollection of. Being a good little girl. Being Galinda. She drew her knees to her chest and gazed up at the candles. She wasn’t sure her parents would like the new ‘Glinda’. Not that that mattered now. She smiled slightly and closed her eyes, resting her chin on her knees. Maybe spending these days at Shiz wasn’t so bad after all. She didn’t have to hold her tongue and she didn’t have to dress exactly as her mother ordered, not a stray blonde curl out of place. Her mother was beautiful. A vision in emerald every Lurlinemas. Glinda had tried to emulate her every year but never quite achieved the same effect.
She’d almost nodded off back to sleep when Elphaba emerged from the bathroom. She opened her eyes as the girl paused to peer down at her in the glow of the candles and the fire, “…What?”
A slight smile curved the edge of her lips, “You look like one of the lost fairy folk with that light and all rumpled like that. You belong in a Lurlinemas greeting sketch.”
Glinda frowned, not sure whether to be offended or not.
“I meant nothing bad by it, before you start. I’d say it was a rather fetching look, but then, what do I know of beauty?” Elphaba continued across the room and sat on the edge of her bed.
She almost blushed, for the compliment and guilt of thinking the words were something cruel. Glinda stood and searched around in the wardrobe, finding suitable attire, and vanished into the bathroom.
-
“Will she know who I am?”
“Ama Clutch?”
Glinda nodded.
Elphaba looked over the rim of the mug of tea she had sneaked out of the refectory, “…I don’t know,” she replied, honestly.
“Is it an illness of her mind or of her body?” Nessa questioned. She was sat beside Glinda, the two side by side at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard.
“It seems to affect both, but I’d say it’s of her mind,” Elphaba said.
Glinda remained silent. She said nothing of the disease actually being of her mind and inflicted on Ama Clutch.
“Nobody has tried to cure her? She has been given no spiritual guidance?” the younger Thropp pressed.
“We don’t know,” her sister answered, “Madame Morrible has her in the Infirmary. She may have had physicians visit, she may not. Considering the circumstances…I’d say not. As for spiritual guidance, unless you want a show of the Pleasure Faith…”
Nessa recoiled, “Perhaps that is the reason.”
Glinda glanced at her, unsure how to respond. She felt compelled to defend her Ama’s honour, but, the truth was, Ama Clutch could have been seen to have sinned in the eyes of every religion in Oz. So could they all, she supposed. Her Ama had always been up for a laugh and a giggle, a good time, whenever she could. But she had been her minder, almost closer to her than her parents, for all the days she could remember. She lowered her eyes, “Perhaps,” she said.
“Perhaps my believing she knows I’m there is wishful thinking. She doesn’t know who I am, Glinda,” Elphaba warned, “Though I suppose you might have a greater impact on her. She’s only known me for a little over a year.”
“Will she be wanting anything?” Nanny asked.
“Morrible has her provided for. She’s bedridden. She’s not starving to death either. She’s harmless in the state she is now.”
Nessa’s features twisted and she lowered her head, staring down into her lap. She was wearing a long dress of deep red that day, mostly to be contrary, though she did like the colour. She didn’t like the sudden vision she had had of a possible version of her future. Abandoned in a room, in a bed, with nobody to assist her. To waste away all alone. Calling and calling and nobody to answer. Would it be worse to lose her mobility or lose her mind? She wasn’t quite sure. Without assistance, she wasn’t quite mobile anyway. But to lose her mind? She shivered, offering up thanks to the Unnamed God that, even though he had seen fit not to provide her with arms, he had ensured she still had her faculties. She had heard stories of babies born like herself who were severely slow-minded as well as physically handicapped. She was one of the lucky ones.
“Did she celebrate Lurlinemas?” Elphaba enquired.
Glinda had to smile at that, “Yes. She had great fun. Overeating and dancing and singing. I’d say it was her favourite time of year. One giant party and no reproach.”
“Maybe you could sing for her.”
“You’re the singer of all of us,” she answered gently.
“Elphaba doesn’t know any Lurlinemas songs,” Nessa said.
“Elphaba can answer for herself,” the girl in question countered, “But no, I don’t, beyond a melody or two. Since I don’t believe, it would be hypocritical of me… Nanny?”
“Nanny’s singing days are over,” the old woman smiled, “Song might confuse the Ama anyway.”
Any reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. Not one of the women in the room bothered to respond, knowing the Headmistress would just barge in anyway. Which she did.
“Miss Glinda, Miss Elphaba, you may follow me,” Madame Morrible didn’t seem to be in the highest of spirits.
Glinda wondered why she hadn’t thought to wonder if Morrible had any family she would rather be visiting than minding the stray girls at Crage Hall. She shuddered. The thought of any family similar to the fish-like woman wasn’t a pleasant thought. She bobbed her head, steadying Nessa so she wouldn’t topple as her weight left the bed. She stood and brushed her white dress off, glancing back for Elphaba’s company.
“Tell her I will pray for her,” Nessa said, in an usually quiet voice.
Glinda nodded, whilst Elphaba’s eyebrows knit together for a moment, more worried by the tone of her sister’s voice than the comment. Usually it would have been said in rather a condescending manner.
“Come along, girls,” Morrible called, already out in the corridor.
Glinda hurried after her, heels clicking.
Elphaba reached to close the door behind them and followed at a more leisurely pace. A few steps later, she doubled her pace to catch up with her roommate, “Gift?” she murmured.
“Pocket,” Glinda whispered.
She nodded.
The journey to the Infirmary was made in complete silence, without any attempts at small talk by Madame Morrible. She merely led the way and didn’t so much as glance back at the girls in her ‘care’. She had seen the Lurlinemas candles beside the fire on peering into the girls’ room. A patronising smile quirked at her lips. How quaint.
The Headmistress halted once they reached the main door to the Infirmary, “I must warn you, ladies, she is most changed,” she stated.
Elphaba arched a brow and folded her arms across her chest. She was changed, that was for sure, but trying to scare them into thinking Ama Clutch was unrecognisable was uncalled for.
Glinda nodded and curled her hands into fists for a moment, preparing herself.
Morrible swung open the door and headed down aisle between the two rows of empty beds. She stopped at the end of Ama Clutch’s bed, as if taking up position as sentry.
The Ama, as it happened, seemed to be fast asleep. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell rhythmically at any rate.
Glinda didn’t feel she ought to disturb her…but she had come this far. Avoiding Morrible’s gaze, she dragged a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat down. She sighed and gently reached to place a hand on Ama Clutch’s shoulder, “Ama Clutch?” she said softly. On receiving no response, she shook the woman a little, “Ama Clutch?”
The patient’s eyes opened and she glanced around…unfortunately straight through Glinda.
“Ama Clutch, it’s me, it’s Galinda.”
Elphaba stepped forward, “It’s your Galinda come to see you. Elphie too, the green girl, remember?”
“I warned you both,” Morrible sniffed, not through upset, but through distaste.
Ama Clutch remained impassive.
“…Try the bauble,” Elphaba suggested.
“Bauble?” the Headmistress questioned.
Glinda dragged the item out of her pocket and held it to the light from its chain. It was a simple crystal really, a chunk of rock on a silver chain, but it seemed to shimmer and when it hit the light just-so it seemed to shine and pour out every colour of the rainbow. To her mind, it could probably be tasteful in small doses. Just not with the size of the thing.
“And what makes you so happy that you be beaming such pretty colours?” Ama Clutch asked, her gaze focusing on the crystal.
“I wasn’t aware she was to receive a gift,” Morrible commented.
“It’s Lurlinemas Eve. She always celebrated,” Glinda began to explain, “I thought-“
“Yes, well, that must have been terrible for you. But to come through all that and still be here and able to-“ the Ama continued to babble.
“It’s a gift. No harm done,” Elphaba said, reassured by the sudden animated vocals of Ama Clutch, even if they weren’t directed towards either her or Glinda.
“Here, Ama, take it,” Glinda pressed the crystal into her ward’s outstretched hand, “It’s yours.”
“Now, now, you don’t want to be relying on me,” she responded, still not acknowledging the blonde behind the gift.
Glinda dropped the rest of the chain across her fingers, “Happy Lurlinemas, Ama Clutch,” she said softly. She didn’t wait a moment longer, and stood, moving away from the bed, “We can go now,” she said, “Thank you for your understanding, Madame Morrible,” she bobbed her head. She had no intention of making a scene whilst the headmistress was present.
She wanted to escape. She wanted to get the hell out of there before the reality of everything hit her again and she was forced to acknowledge all that had happened. If she kept busy it was easy not to think about it…but facing her pale faced Ama making conversation with an inanimate object and not even noticing the girl she had taken care of since the young student was little more than a baby…
Elphaba headed off, trying to draw Morrible away, to give Glinda a moment alone with her Ama. She would sneak in again in a couple of days anyway, probably to hear more of the crystal’s history and take note of its memoirs. Morrible followed, though not at the pace her student would have liked.
Glinda hesitated at the foot of the bed, “…I’m sorry,” she whispered, head lowered, features hidden beneath blonde curls that had fallen forward. She turned abruptly and made to catch up with her companions. It took every bit of her self control not to shove them aside and run for the door and dash straight up back to her room.
Noticing her roommate’s shaking frame, Elphaba blindly groped for her hand and tightly caught her fingers with her own. She made no comment and didn’t even look at her. Once they were past the door and Morrible turned to address them, she immediately dropped Glinda’s hand.
“I apologise if such a scene upset you, but that is the most sense even I can get out of her. I offer her a cup of tea and she speaks with the china. Nobody exists beyond the world of inanimate objects,” Madame Morrible said.
Glinda nodded, unable to speak. She knew she wouldn’t visit again. Not until…until…well, until it was good and necessary.
“Nanny is expecting us back,” Elphaba gave Glinda a little shove at the small of her back to guide her away.
“Yes, of course,” Morrible replied.
The two girls left her presence as quickly as they could.
As soon as they were out of sight, the mistress of Crage Hall headed back into the Infirmary to remove the crystal from the Ama’s hands. Nothing was ever as harmless as it seemed in Oz these days.
-
“I should tell my parents. I should let them take her home. They are still paying her wages, after all,” Glinda said, a good half hour later, back amongst the glow of the fire and Lurlinemas candles.
“And say what? That something has bewitched her?” Elphaba responded.
“I don’t know! Just something! Just to get her out of there!”
“If your parents saw the state of your Ama and had any sense, they’d remove you from Shiz. Then what would become of the first sorceress of Frottica?”
Glinda sighed and shook her head, “I don’t know.”
“I think we have to accept some things are out of our hands…for now,” she said.
“For now…” her friend frowned, “Despite what we said, I’ve a good mind to go back and try and magic her-“
“A nice sentiment, but you’re a trainee sorceress who has been known to blow up savoury snacks.”
“Elphaba?” Nessarose walked unsteadily into the room, Nanny ready to right her if she fell, “Would you take dictation please? I want to write to Father.”
Elphaba nodded and got up from her bed, “Yes, Nessa.”
“Well, if I can leave you girls, I’ll go see what I can find that’s been provided to eat,” Nanny parked Nessa in the closest seat and eased her a little closer to the fire, “Tea all round? I doubt there’ll be anything stronger, more’s the pity,” she paused for a moment, “Though I did buy that…yes…we’ll see if we can’t make tea a little more entertaining.”
“And by entertaining you mean poisoning us with some home-brewed moonshine or the like?” Elphaba said in a good natured manner.
“Of course,” Nanny continued on her way and closed the door behind her.
Elphaba, having retrieved a sheet of paper and something to write with, settled herself at Nessa’s feet, close to the fire with Glinda.
“If I start hiccupping after any moonshine or whatever it will be, muffle me with one of my own pillows?” Glinda smiled slightly.
She returned the smile, “Done.”
-
Lurlinemas Eve went by rather smoothly after that. A little tipsy on whatever alcohol Nanny had purchased, Glinda sang some Lurlinemas carols with her, which Elphaba seemed to find amusing. After a few rounds of a chorus (and a great deal of pleading) she deigned to supply a wordless harmony. Nessa managed not to make any harsh comments, though this also meant she refrained from commenting at all, and spent a few hours lost in prayer whilst the semi-inebriated gaiety went on around her. Elphaba stayed by her side for most of the day, as if she felt somewhat guilty for allowing even a shred of Lurlinemas spirit to get in through the door. She supposed Glinda and Nanny would have carried on with or without their blessing, but she knew her sister blamed her for having to endure it.
However, a couple of cups of infused tea later, even Nessarose Thropp managed a brief smile at the antics of Nanny and Glinda, holiday related or not.
-
“Elphaba?”
“…Elphaba?”
“Elphaba…?”
“…Glinda of the Arduennas?” a sleepy, disgruntled, voice finally replied.
“Are you awake?” Glinda questioned, keeping her voice low, despite the fact that there was no good reason any longer.
“No.”
“Oh…” she narrowed her eyes, “Yes you are,” she stated.
“Very observant of you for this time in the morning,” Elphaba shifted onto her side, trying to make out the figure of her roommate in dawn light, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“You were one of those annoying children who insisted on waking the household at three in the morning to hunt for and rip open their presents, weren’t you?”
Glinda smiled, “Who said anything about that phase passing?”
A snort that could have been annoyance or laughter greeted her ears.
“No, seriously, it’s not that. I’m cold,” she insisted.
“Need I remind you there are no presents here?” Elphaba asked.
“I’m not after presents, I’m cold!”
She scooted over in her bed and held open the covers, “Come here then,” she affected a long sigh, as if she were very much put out by the whole thing. Elphaba frowned when she heard a rustling and then the padding of feet across wooden floorboards, before a surprisingly warm (for someone who had just stated they were cold) body clambered into bed beside her.
“Happy Lurlinemas.”
A parcel landed on top of the duvet, in her lap. Elphaba stared, between the parcel and the blonde, “…Glinda, I told you…”
“I know you told me. Whether you believe or not, does it mean you can’t accept gifts? Can’t you think that I’m giving you a present because I want to and not because I feel obligated to because of some religious holiday?”
“A holiday you believe in.”
Glinda sighed, “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get your presents specifically for Lurlinemas. I would have given them to you anyway. Now just seemed like an appropriate time. Somebody should get gifts, and if it’s not going to be me and certainly not Nessa, then-“
“Thank you,” Elphaba said quietly, a little stunned.
“You’re welcome.”
She sat up a little against the headboard, Glinda shuffling closer to her for warmth.
Elphaba tugged on the bow of the parcel until she could unfold the paper and reveal the contents. A dark blue shawl and black gloves sat in the centre of the paper, neatly folded and presented.
“I thought they’d be practical,” Glinda uttered, driven to provide an explanation.
She lay a hand on the shawl and traced the outline of one of the gloves with one finger, “Thank you, Glinda,” she repeated. Elphaba frowned as she felt another object beneath the glove and gently pulled it out.
“…I thought that would be less practical…”
It was a broach. A small, plain, treble clef, that seemed silver in some light, and sapphire in another, as she held it up to catch the morning light.
“Because you sing. Or you can. Much better than I do…or anyone I know, come to think of it. You should sing,” Glinda babbled, uncertain of herself.
She had lied about the presents. The shawl and the gloves she had already had, in the hidden box of presents, and she supposed they were as perfect for Elphaba as they had been for whoever she had intended them for. But the broach she had bought on her trip with Nanny. Something beautiful. Something small. Something plain, simple, and meaningful. Something she hoped wouldn’t offend.
Elphaba wasn’t quite sure how to react. She didn’t sing for herself. She didn’t sing when she was happy. She wasn’t one of those girls who went around humming under their breath because all was right with the world. She had sung for her father when she was little because it pleased him, sometimes it made him smile…it was something she could do and be acknowledged for…so she wasn’t the green girl for a moment and was just his eldest daughter. Elphaba never sang for herself. Only when it was requested of her. Only under duress.
A green hand brushed blonde ringlets away from Glinda's eyes and a kiss was pressed to her forehead. Elphaba said nothing.
They sat in silence for several minutes, huddling together for warmth, the opened parcel still in Elphaba’s lap.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck here for Lurlinemas and you didn’t get your week at home with your family.”
Glinda twitched her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, “What would I have done that I haven’t done here anyway?”
“Had presents? Better company? I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you. Last year-“
“Last year?” she interrupted.
Elphaba almost looked uncomfortable, “That white flower.”
Glinda blinked, “That was… That was from you?”
“You thought some silly boy had snuck in and left it? We barely spoke. I must have thought it would be some kind of peace offering.”
She smiled slightly, “I took it home with me. I wore it in my hair on the trip back. It matched my outfit,” she nudged her companion, “So I guess we’re even. Wherever did you find such a flower in winter?”
Now Elphaba shrugged, “A winter variety. You can get anything in town if you search long enough.”
“Thank you. Belatedly.”
She bobbed her head, not making eye contact, “I expect your parents miss you,” she said.
Glinda exhaled slowly, “They’ll have my cousins and my aunts and uncles and grandparents, dear Oz, every Arduenna in the area. My mother’s side,” she explained, “It’s tradition. My father…” she paused, “Well, they say my father’s family aren’t from such good stock as my mother. The Arduennas might not have much power, but they do have money and they do like to flaunt the name. We do,” she corrected.
“Why did they let your mother and father marry if they deem him inferior to their bloodline?” Elphaba asked.
“I’m not entirely certain. I think my mother may have threatened to run off with him and ruin her family name. I suppose they would rather have had inferior blood in the family than lose a daughter of the Arduennas. It doesn’t matter either way. She’s an Arduenna and so am I,” she smiled, “She’s beautiful, my mother…I wish I had that kind of beauty sometimes. Effortless.”
“You have a mind, dear Glinda, and that’s beauty enough,” Elphaba commented. She set the broach back amongst the shawl and gloves, “I sometimes thought my mother would have been beautiful once. She was high born, she was a lady, according to Nanny, before my father. All I ever saw of her was a doped up young woman too stressed out and drunk to care whether she was beautiful or not anymore. Sometimes she wondered what the hell she was doing. You could see it in her eyes.”
“Mothers have their faults. Yours and mine.”
“As do their daughters,” Elphaba said. She folded the parcel back up, “Set this on my nightstand, would you?”
Glinda nodded and did so. She felt more of the single pillow on the bed shifted her way and looked a little confused.
“We’d better get some more sleep. Who knows what Nanny has planned for today that we’re completely oblivious to?”
She thought she would be returning to her own bed, but more of the duvet was offered her as Elphaba lay back down. Glinda slid down and underneath the duvet, suddenly, genuinely, cold. She shivered and felt an arm hook round her waist and draw her closer, tucking her beneath Elphaba’s chin. She closed her eyes.
“…I’d be alone at home, you know…” Glinda admitted, voice a whisper.
“Sleep,” Elphaba quietly responded.
She did.
Elphie didn’t.
Elphaba never wore the broach. But years later, when the Witch was melted and the cloak and broom taken from the scene of the crime, nobody noticed a glint of silver in the corner of the room where it had tumbled, a reminder of the trials of youth and of friendship.
Fin
Author: Angel Leviathan
Disclaimer: Wicked, characters, concept, etc, aren't mine.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,019
Summary: She wasn’t sure her parents would like the new ‘Glinda’. Not that that mattered now.
Elphaba threw back her covers and clambered from her bed, “We’d best make ourselves presentable before Morrible decides to arrive before we’re ready.”
“We’ve hours yet,” Glinda said.
“You can never be too prepared with that woman on the prowl,” Nanny stoked the fire, trying to encourage it to burn brighter. She tilted her head as she heard Nessa’s sleepy voice calling for assistance, “Nanny’s here, Nessie,” she replied. She headed back into their room and closed the door to give Nessarose some privacy.
Elphaba wandered across the room to rummage in the wardrobe, pulling out, as usual, another shapeless dress in black. She retrieved her other stocking from Glinda’s bed, snatched a small bag of toiletries from her own nightstand, and headed for the facilities.
Glinda sat down on the floor a little way away from the candles, skirts of her dress spreading out around her. What would she have been doing now if she were at home? Making mindless small-talk with some visiting member of the family she pretended to know but had no recollection of. Being a good little girl. Being Galinda. She drew her knees to her chest and gazed up at the candles. She wasn’t sure her parents would like the new ‘Glinda’. Not that that mattered now. She smiled slightly and closed her eyes, resting her chin on her knees. Maybe spending these days at Shiz wasn’t so bad after all. She didn’t have to hold her tongue and she didn’t have to dress exactly as her mother ordered, not a stray blonde curl out of place. Her mother was beautiful. A vision in emerald every Lurlinemas. Glinda had tried to emulate her every year but never quite achieved the same effect.
She’d almost nodded off back to sleep when Elphaba emerged from the bathroom. She opened her eyes as the girl paused to peer down at her in the glow of the candles and the fire, “…What?”
A slight smile curved the edge of her lips, “You look like one of the lost fairy folk with that light and all rumpled like that. You belong in a Lurlinemas greeting sketch.”
Glinda frowned, not sure whether to be offended or not.
“I meant nothing bad by it, before you start. I’d say it was a rather fetching look, but then, what do I know of beauty?” Elphaba continued across the room and sat on the edge of her bed.
She almost blushed, for the compliment and guilt of thinking the words were something cruel. Glinda stood and searched around in the wardrobe, finding suitable attire, and vanished into the bathroom.
-
“Will she know who I am?”
“Ama Clutch?”
Glinda nodded.
Elphaba looked over the rim of the mug of tea she had sneaked out of the refectory, “…I don’t know,” she replied, honestly.
“Is it an illness of her mind or of her body?” Nessa questioned. She was sat beside Glinda, the two side by side at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard.
“It seems to affect both, but I’d say it’s of her mind,” Elphaba said.
Glinda remained silent. She said nothing of the disease actually being of her mind and inflicted on Ama Clutch.
“Nobody has tried to cure her? She has been given no spiritual guidance?” the younger Thropp pressed.
“We don’t know,” her sister answered, “Madame Morrible has her in the Infirmary. She may have had physicians visit, she may not. Considering the circumstances…I’d say not. As for spiritual guidance, unless you want a show of the Pleasure Faith…”
Nessa recoiled, “Perhaps that is the reason.”
Glinda glanced at her, unsure how to respond. She felt compelled to defend her Ama’s honour, but, the truth was, Ama Clutch could have been seen to have sinned in the eyes of every religion in Oz. So could they all, she supposed. Her Ama had always been up for a laugh and a giggle, a good time, whenever she could. But she had been her minder, almost closer to her than her parents, for all the days she could remember. She lowered her eyes, “Perhaps,” she said.
“Perhaps my believing she knows I’m there is wishful thinking. She doesn’t know who I am, Glinda,” Elphaba warned, “Though I suppose you might have a greater impact on her. She’s only known me for a little over a year.”
“Will she be wanting anything?” Nanny asked.
“Morrible has her provided for. She’s bedridden. She’s not starving to death either. She’s harmless in the state she is now.”
Nessa’s features twisted and she lowered her head, staring down into her lap. She was wearing a long dress of deep red that day, mostly to be contrary, though she did like the colour. She didn’t like the sudden vision she had had of a possible version of her future. Abandoned in a room, in a bed, with nobody to assist her. To waste away all alone. Calling and calling and nobody to answer. Would it be worse to lose her mobility or lose her mind? She wasn’t quite sure. Without assistance, she wasn’t quite mobile anyway. But to lose her mind? She shivered, offering up thanks to the Unnamed God that, even though he had seen fit not to provide her with arms, he had ensured she still had her faculties. She had heard stories of babies born like herself who were severely slow-minded as well as physically handicapped. She was one of the lucky ones.
“Did she celebrate Lurlinemas?” Elphaba enquired.
Glinda had to smile at that, “Yes. She had great fun. Overeating and dancing and singing. I’d say it was her favourite time of year. One giant party and no reproach.”
“Maybe you could sing for her.”
“You’re the singer of all of us,” she answered gently.
“Elphaba doesn’t know any Lurlinemas songs,” Nessa said.
“Elphaba can answer for herself,” the girl in question countered, “But no, I don’t, beyond a melody or two. Since I don’t believe, it would be hypocritical of me… Nanny?”
“Nanny’s singing days are over,” the old woman smiled, “Song might confuse the Ama anyway.”
Any reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. Not one of the women in the room bothered to respond, knowing the Headmistress would just barge in anyway. Which she did.
“Miss Glinda, Miss Elphaba, you may follow me,” Madame Morrible didn’t seem to be in the highest of spirits.
Glinda wondered why she hadn’t thought to wonder if Morrible had any family she would rather be visiting than minding the stray girls at Crage Hall. She shuddered. The thought of any family similar to the fish-like woman wasn’t a pleasant thought. She bobbed her head, steadying Nessa so she wouldn’t topple as her weight left the bed. She stood and brushed her white dress off, glancing back for Elphaba’s company.
“Tell her I will pray for her,” Nessa said, in an usually quiet voice.
Glinda nodded, whilst Elphaba’s eyebrows knit together for a moment, more worried by the tone of her sister’s voice than the comment. Usually it would have been said in rather a condescending manner.
“Come along, girls,” Morrible called, already out in the corridor.
Glinda hurried after her, heels clicking.
Elphaba reached to close the door behind them and followed at a more leisurely pace. A few steps later, she doubled her pace to catch up with her roommate, “Gift?” she murmured.
“Pocket,” Glinda whispered.
She nodded.
The journey to the Infirmary was made in complete silence, without any attempts at small talk by Madame Morrible. She merely led the way and didn’t so much as glance back at the girls in her ‘care’. She had seen the Lurlinemas candles beside the fire on peering into the girls’ room. A patronising smile quirked at her lips. How quaint.
The Headmistress halted once they reached the main door to the Infirmary, “I must warn you, ladies, she is most changed,” she stated.
Elphaba arched a brow and folded her arms across her chest. She was changed, that was for sure, but trying to scare them into thinking Ama Clutch was unrecognisable was uncalled for.
Glinda nodded and curled her hands into fists for a moment, preparing herself.
Morrible swung open the door and headed down aisle between the two rows of empty beds. She stopped at the end of Ama Clutch’s bed, as if taking up position as sentry.
The Ama, as it happened, seemed to be fast asleep. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell rhythmically at any rate.
Glinda didn’t feel she ought to disturb her…but she had come this far. Avoiding Morrible’s gaze, she dragged a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat down. She sighed and gently reached to place a hand on Ama Clutch’s shoulder, “Ama Clutch?” she said softly. On receiving no response, she shook the woman a little, “Ama Clutch?”
The patient’s eyes opened and she glanced around…unfortunately straight through Glinda.
“Ama Clutch, it’s me, it’s Galinda.”
Elphaba stepped forward, “It’s your Galinda come to see you. Elphie too, the green girl, remember?”
“I warned you both,” Morrible sniffed, not through upset, but through distaste.
Ama Clutch remained impassive.
“…Try the bauble,” Elphaba suggested.
“Bauble?” the Headmistress questioned.
Glinda dragged the item out of her pocket and held it to the light from its chain. It was a simple crystal really, a chunk of rock on a silver chain, but it seemed to shimmer and when it hit the light just-so it seemed to shine and pour out every colour of the rainbow. To her mind, it could probably be tasteful in small doses. Just not with the size of the thing.
“And what makes you so happy that you be beaming such pretty colours?” Ama Clutch asked, her gaze focusing on the crystal.
“I wasn’t aware she was to receive a gift,” Morrible commented.
“It’s Lurlinemas Eve. She always celebrated,” Glinda began to explain, “I thought-“
“Yes, well, that must have been terrible for you. But to come through all that and still be here and able to-“ the Ama continued to babble.
“It’s a gift. No harm done,” Elphaba said, reassured by the sudden animated vocals of Ama Clutch, even if they weren’t directed towards either her or Glinda.
“Here, Ama, take it,” Glinda pressed the crystal into her ward’s outstretched hand, “It’s yours.”
“Now, now, you don’t want to be relying on me,” she responded, still not acknowledging the blonde behind the gift.
Glinda dropped the rest of the chain across her fingers, “Happy Lurlinemas, Ama Clutch,” she said softly. She didn’t wait a moment longer, and stood, moving away from the bed, “We can go now,” she said, “Thank you for your understanding, Madame Morrible,” she bobbed her head. She had no intention of making a scene whilst the headmistress was present.
She wanted to escape. She wanted to get the hell out of there before the reality of everything hit her again and she was forced to acknowledge all that had happened. If she kept busy it was easy not to think about it…but facing her pale faced Ama making conversation with an inanimate object and not even noticing the girl she had taken care of since the young student was little more than a baby…
Elphaba headed off, trying to draw Morrible away, to give Glinda a moment alone with her Ama. She would sneak in again in a couple of days anyway, probably to hear more of the crystal’s history and take note of its memoirs. Morrible followed, though not at the pace her student would have liked.
Glinda hesitated at the foot of the bed, “…I’m sorry,” she whispered, head lowered, features hidden beneath blonde curls that had fallen forward. She turned abruptly and made to catch up with her companions. It took every bit of her self control not to shove them aside and run for the door and dash straight up back to her room.
Noticing her roommate’s shaking frame, Elphaba blindly groped for her hand and tightly caught her fingers with her own. She made no comment and didn’t even look at her. Once they were past the door and Morrible turned to address them, she immediately dropped Glinda’s hand.
“I apologise if such a scene upset you, but that is the most sense even I can get out of her. I offer her a cup of tea and she speaks with the china. Nobody exists beyond the world of inanimate objects,” Madame Morrible said.
Glinda nodded, unable to speak. She knew she wouldn’t visit again. Not until…until…well, until it was good and necessary.
“Nanny is expecting us back,” Elphaba gave Glinda a little shove at the small of her back to guide her away.
“Yes, of course,” Morrible replied.
The two girls left her presence as quickly as they could.
As soon as they were out of sight, the mistress of Crage Hall headed back into the Infirmary to remove the crystal from the Ama’s hands. Nothing was ever as harmless as it seemed in Oz these days.
-
“I should tell my parents. I should let them take her home. They are still paying her wages, after all,” Glinda said, a good half hour later, back amongst the glow of the fire and Lurlinemas candles.
“And say what? That something has bewitched her?” Elphaba responded.
“I don’t know! Just something! Just to get her out of there!”
“If your parents saw the state of your Ama and had any sense, they’d remove you from Shiz. Then what would become of the first sorceress of Frottica?”
Glinda sighed and shook her head, “I don’t know.”
“I think we have to accept some things are out of our hands…for now,” she said.
“For now…” her friend frowned, “Despite what we said, I’ve a good mind to go back and try and magic her-“
“A nice sentiment, but you’re a trainee sorceress who has been known to blow up savoury snacks.”
“Elphaba?” Nessarose walked unsteadily into the room, Nanny ready to right her if she fell, “Would you take dictation please? I want to write to Father.”
Elphaba nodded and got up from her bed, “Yes, Nessa.”
“Well, if I can leave you girls, I’ll go see what I can find that’s been provided to eat,” Nanny parked Nessa in the closest seat and eased her a little closer to the fire, “Tea all round? I doubt there’ll be anything stronger, more’s the pity,” she paused for a moment, “Though I did buy that…yes…we’ll see if we can’t make tea a little more entertaining.”
“And by entertaining you mean poisoning us with some home-brewed moonshine or the like?” Elphaba said in a good natured manner.
“Of course,” Nanny continued on her way and closed the door behind her.
Elphaba, having retrieved a sheet of paper and something to write with, settled herself at Nessa’s feet, close to the fire with Glinda.
“If I start hiccupping after any moonshine or whatever it will be, muffle me with one of my own pillows?” Glinda smiled slightly.
She returned the smile, “Done.”
-
Lurlinemas Eve went by rather smoothly after that. A little tipsy on whatever alcohol Nanny had purchased, Glinda sang some Lurlinemas carols with her, which Elphaba seemed to find amusing. After a few rounds of a chorus (and a great deal of pleading) she deigned to supply a wordless harmony. Nessa managed not to make any harsh comments, though this also meant she refrained from commenting at all, and spent a few hours lost in prayer whilst the semi-inebriated gaiety went on around her. Elphaba stayed by her side for most of the day, as if she felt somewhat guilty for allowing even a shred of Lurlinemas spirit to get in through the door. She supposed Glinda and Nanny would have carried on with or without their blessing, but she knew her sister blamed her for having to endure it.
However, a couple of cups of infused tea later, even Nessarose Thropp managed a brief smile at the antics of Nanny and Glinda, holiday related or not.
-
“Elphaba?”
“…Elphaba?”
“Elphaba…?”
“…Glinda of the Arduennas?” a sleepy, disgruntled, voice finally replied.
“Are you awake?” Glinda questioned, keeping her voice low, despite the fact that there was no good reason any longer.
“No.”
“Oh…” she narrowed her eyes, “Yes you are,” she stated.
“Very observant of you for this time in the morning,” Elphaba shifted onto her side, trying to make out the figure of her roommate in dawn light, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“You were one of those annoying children who insisted on waking the household at three in the morning to hunt for and rip open their presents, weren’t you?”
Glinda smiled, “Who said anything about that phase passing?”
A snort that could have been annoyance or laughter greeted her ears.
“No, seriously, it’s not that. I’m cold,” she insisted.
“Need I remind you there are no presents here?” Elphaba asked.
“I’m not after presents, I’m cold!”
She scooted over in her bed and held open the covers, “Come here then,” she affected a long sigh, as if she were very much put out by the whole thing. Elphaba frowned when she heard a rustling and then the padding of feet across wooden floorboards, before a surprisingly warm (for someone who had just stated they were cold) body clambered into bed beside her.
“Happy Lurlinemas.”
A parcel landed on top of the duvet, in her lap. Elphaba stared, between the parcel and the blonde, “…Glinda, I told you…”
“I know you told me. Whether you believe or not, does it mean you can’t accept gifts? Can’t you think that I’m giving you a present because I want to and not because I feel obligated to because of some religious holiday?”
“A holiday you believe in.”
Glinda sighed, “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get your presents specifically for Lurlinemas. I would have given them to you anyway. Now just seemed like an appropriate time. Somebody should get gifts, and if it’s not going to be me and certainly not Nessa, then-“
“Thank you,” Elphaba said quietly, a little stunned.
“You’re welcome.”
She sat up a little against the headboard, Glinda shuffling closer to her for warmth.
Elphaba tugged on the bow of the parcel until she could unfold the paper and reveal the contents. A dark blue shawl and black gloves sat in the centre of the paper, neatly folded and presented.
“I thought they’d be practical,” Glinda uttered, driven to provide an explanation.
She lay a hand on the shawl and traced the outline of one of the gloves with one finger, “Thank you, Glinda,” she repeated. Elphaba frowned as she felt another object beneath the glove and gently pulled it out.
“…I thought that would be less practical…”
It was a broach. A small, plain, treble clef, that seemed silver in some light, and sapphire in another, as she held it up to catch the morning light.
“Because you sing. Or you can. Much better than I do…or anyone I know, come to think of it. You should sing,” Glinda babbled, uncertain of herself.
She had lied about the presents. The shawl and the gloves she had already had, in the hidden box of presents, and she supposed they were as perfect for Elphaba as they had been for whoever she had intended them for. But the broach she had bought on her trip with Nanny. Something beautiful. Something small. Something plain, simple, and meaningful. Something she hoped wouldn’t offend.
Elphaba wasn’t quite sure how to react. She didn’t sing for herself. She didn’t sing when she was happy. She wasn’t one of those girls who went around humming under their breath because all was right with the world. She had sung for her father when she was little because it pleased him, sometimes it made him smile…it was something she could do and be acknowledged for…so she wasn’t the green girl for a moment and was just his eldest daughter. Elphaba never sang for herself. Only when it was requested of her. Only under duress.
A green hand brushed blonde ringlets away from Glinda's eyes and a kiss was pressed to her forehead. Elphaba said nothing.
They sat in silence for several minutes, huddling together for warmth, the opened parcel still in Elphaba’s lap.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck here for Lurlinemas and you didn’t get your week at home with your family.”
Glinda twitched her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, “What would I have done that I haven’t done here anyway?”
“Had presents? Better company? I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you. Last year-“
“Last year?” she interrupted.
Elphaba almost looked uncomfortable, “That white flower.”
Glinda blinked, “That was… That was from you?”
“You thought some silly boy had snuck in and left it? We barely spoke. I must have thought it would be some kind of peace offering.”
She smiled slightly, “I took it home with me. I wore it in my hair on the trip back. It matched my outfit,” she nudged her companion, “So I guess we’re even. Wherever did you find such a flower in winter?”
Now Elphaba shrugged, “A winter variety. You can get anything in town if you search long enough.”
“Thank you. Belatedly.”
She bobbed her head, not making eye contact, “I expect your parents miss you,” she said.
Glinda exhaled slowly, “They’ll have my cousins and my aunts and uncles and grandparents, dear Oz, every Arduenna in the area. My mother’s side,” she explained, “It’s tradition. My father…” she paused, “Well, they say my father’s family aren’t from such good stock as my mother. The Arduennas might not have much power, but they do have money and they do like to flaunt the name. We do,” she corrected.
“Why did they let your mother and father marry if they deem him inferior to their bloodline?” Elphaba asked.
“I’m not entirely certain. I think my mother may have threatened to run off with him and ruin her family name. I suppose they would rather have had inferior blood in the family than lose a daughter of the Arduennas. It doesn’t matter either way. She’s an Arduenna and so am I,” she smiled, “She’s beautiful, my mother…I wish I had that kind of beauty sometimes. Effortless.”
“You have a mind, dear Glinda, and that’s beauty enough,” Elphaba commented. She set the broach back amongst the shawl and gloves, “I sometimes thought my mother would have been beautiful once. She was high born, she was a lady, according to Nanny, before my father. All I ever saw of her was a doped up young woman too stressed out and drunk to care whether she was beautiful or not anymore. Sometimes she wondered what the hell she was doing. You could see it in her eyes.”
“Mothers have their faults. Yours and mine.”
“As do their daughters,” Elphaba said. She folded the parcel back up, “Set this on my nightstand, would you?”
Glinda nodded and did so. She felt more of the single pillow on the bed shifted her way and looked a little confused.
“We’d better get some more sleep. Who knows what Nanny has planned for today that we’re completely oblivious to?”
She thought she would be returning to her own bed, but more of the duvet was offered her as Elphaba lay back down. Glinda slid down and underneath the duvet, suddenly, genuinely, cold. She shivered and felt an arm hook round her waist and draw her closer, tucking her beneath Elphaba’s chin. She closed her eyes.
“…I’d be alone at home, you know…” Glinda admitted, voice a whisper.
“Sleep,” Elphaba quietly responded.
She did.
Elphie didn’t.
Elphaba never wore the broach. But years later, when the Witch was melted and the cloak and broom taken from the scene of the crime, nobody noticed a glint of silver in the corner of the room where it had tumbled, a reminder of the trials of youth and of friendship.
Fin