Abandoned by fabala_belle
Title: Abandoned
Rating: PG
Pairing: Every possible combination with Glinda, Elphaba, and Fiyero.
Summary: Glinda struggles to come to terms with the mess her life has become after Elphaba and Fiyero run away together. I stole a few little bits from the book, but it's overwhelmingly musical-based.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
What have I done?
Glinda had spent all evening blaming everyone who could possibly be blamed. At first, it had been the guards, for letting them go. Elphaba, for stealing what was hers. Fiyero, for leaving.
But now that she had retreated to her room and locked the door against guards, against attendants, against even the Wizard himself, there was only one person she could blame.
What have I done?
It was betrayal of the worst sort, what had happened tonight, but she wasn’t angry anymore. She had no more urge to rage, to lash out at innocent people and vases and windowpanes. Still, she couldn’t fight the image of two hands coming together, two sets of eyes locking… and none of them hers.
She shuddered, hugging her bare shoulders - still wearing that foolish ballgown, she realized, one that she’d bought especially to celebrate her engagement. She’d hardly need it anymore, or the wedding dress that stood expectantly in the corner.
She turned towards the dress now, noting sadly that it was finally finished. How many times had it taken to get those fools to make it perfectly? It was finally everything she’d wanted, with the fine lace she’d ordered and the tiny pink roses around the waist that had taken so long to attach.
It was finished, and now it was worthless. There would be no wedding, she was sure of it. She would never love again. She couldn’t. Yet she felt for the laces at the back of her ballgown, stepping out of it and reaching for the glorious dress she’d spent so long designing.
For a moment, she stopped loathing herself and allowed a hint of a smile to dawn on her face. She was radiant in it despite the tearstains on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the mess her hair had become in hours of screaming and storming around. She reached for the veil, drawing the lace over her imperfections. A veil to conceal the emotions on her face, a dress to conceal the broken heart within her chest.
Yet there was no one to wear them for, and she tore the lace off of her head.
What have I done?
She’d lost Fiyero millions of times already, she knew that. She wasn’t so delusional as to think that he actually loved her… but she’d grown to love him more desperately with each passing moment. If only he’d rejected her years ago, dared to be less than a gentleman in order to save her from the torment she was suffering tonight.
It was to be expected, though, she realized with a sigh, sitting down on her bed and not giving a thought to the wrinkles that were probably now marring her beautiful wedding gown. Surely he would have found someone who he loved more, even if he’d married her, and she’d have to face the searing pain of losing him for good.
But Elphaba…
She’d already lost Elphaba once before, in this very room. The Wizard had never quite understood why she demanded such a remote and small room to be hers, and she’d made up some ridiculous reason - it was the airiest in the palace, was that it? That she wanted a west-facing room to keep the sun from waking her too early?
He didn’t recall what had occurred in that room, not having been there at the moment when her Elphie left her, but Glinda remembered all too well. Elphaba had stepped onto that very windowsill, turning back for one last glance at Glinda. She’d said something, but the guards had been yelling and Glinda had been sobbing and the words had been lost. Only seconds later, Elphaba herself was lost, jumping from the window and trusting that broom to carry her to freedom.
Maybe that was why it hurt so to lose Elphaba again. Glinda had never expected to see her after that horrid day… Yet she was back, and so soon gone. And she’d taken with her the one thing as precious to Glinda as Elphaba herself.
Why couldn’t it have been Glinda who Elphaba reached for, Glinda who she’d taken away? What had she done so wrong that neither Elphaba nor Fiyero could glance back over their shoulders at her? She’d loved them as much and as hard as she could. What else had they wanted of her?
What have I done?
There was a sudden rap at the door, and Glinda started, thankful that she’d locked the door so thoroughly. She didn’t want an intruder tonight… and, more than anything, she didn’t want to be found in her wedding dress like a pathetic, abandoned bride.
Which she was, she knew. Thoroughly pathetic, and doubly abandoned.
“Lady Glinda, the sun is rising,” one of her maids called. “You really must come out. There’s much to be done today. Your breakfast is awaiting you.”
A glance out the window - Elphaba’s window, as she’d always called it to herself - and Glinda saw the faint light spreading across the city beneath her, the mountains to the west reflecting the sun back to her as always. She’d stayed up all night, had she? Perhaps she could send word to the Wizard that she was sick. It was hard enough to go about her duties with a broken heart, but with no sleep as well?
She’d only stayed up all night once before in her life, and she flinched at the memories she couldn’t restrain. The dance at the Ozdust. She’d danced with both of them that night, Elphaba and Fiyero. It was the night when Fiyero had stopped being merely some handsome boy, when Elphaba had finally become something more than green. She’d fallen in love with both of them, with Elphaba when she danced unafraid, pretending as if it didn’t hurt to hear everyone jeering her… and with Fiyero when he hadn’t turned and run after Glinda rushed to Elphaba’s side.
Maybe Fiyero did that for Elphaba’s sake, she thought bitterly now. Maybe he’d loved her even then.
There was another rap on the door, and Glinda made her way to the window, grasping the worn places on the sill where Elphaba’s feet had touched. The wood wasn’t worn from Elphaba’s feet… No, it was Glinda’s hands, resting there hour after hour, with her eyes always turned towards the western sky. She’d turn those words Elphaba had shouted to the frightened city over and over in her head. So, if you care to find me…
I do, Elphaba, I do. I’ve watched for you every morning, every night, every spare moment for all these years… Why haven’t you ever appeared?
Glinda started, noticing a black figure against the sky, off in the distance. Was it… No, it was only a bird, making its way towards her window.
“I bring something for you, my lady,” it suddenly said as it grew close enough to hear. A Bird, then. “From the Witch.”
Elphaba had never attempted to contact her… Even that night, she’d only been in the palace on some mission of hers. It had been an accident that Glinda had stumbled upon her.
Her hands shook as she reached for the small package. “Thank you,” she murmured, but the Bird was already flying back towards the mountains.
She fumbled with the string as she untied it, revealing two pieces of paper - one wrapped around something else, and one with a few lines in Elphaba’s dear scrawl. She took up the letter first, staying near the window for light.
My sweet,
There are no words strong enough to apologize for all I’ve done. I hope that you’ll some day find it in your heart to forgive me - both of us.
Be strong, my sweet, and I beg you to hold out once more. I’ll never forget you.
There was no signature, no names at all… probably in case the note was intercepted, Glinda realized.
She could feel the objects in the second sheet of paper as she went to unwrap them, her heart sinking as she identified them. Both presents she’d given, one to Fiyero and one to Elphaba. A hard circle at the bottom, and a soft mass of silk.
She pulled out the ring first, Fiyero’s ring. She bought them when she’d beguiled him into an engagement… One for her, which she had thrown off somewhere in the ballroom last night, and one for him.
Elphaba’s letter had been almost exciting, a token of love, but Fiyero’s ring could only mean one thing. He was never coming back. There was no chance of undoing what had happened, there was no chance that he’d slip back into her life and marry her.
The rap on the door sounded again. “A moment,” Glinda called, her voice hoarse from crying. The letter had to go into the fire, and the ring, too. The wedding dress went back on its hanger… and the other object, still wrapped in paper, remained on the bed. Glinda couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Getting Fiyero’s ring back was bad enough…
She unlocked the door, admitting the maids who immediately began fussing about her, getting a new gown onto her and offering food that she couldn’t bring herself to eat.
“What’s this?” one of them - Pfannee’s daughter, a flighty young thing who never ceased to irritate Glinda - asked, picking up the object on the bed.
“Nothing,” Glinda whispered.
“Your fiancé has been gone for less than a day and you’re already getting tokens of love from another man?” Just as invasive and suspicious as Pfannee ever was, and twice as obnoxious. The girl was shoved out of the way by one of the other maids, an older one name Rette, and the thing she held in her hands returned to Glinda.
“Leave her be,” Rette snapped at the girl, “and don’t, for the love of Oz, mention him.”
“Thank you, and please... A moment?” Glinda knew that she wouldn’t be able to restrain her tears now that she held it, now that she had no choice but to look at it.
A pink silk flower, a very expensive one, in the sort of luridly bright color that had appealed to Glinda in her younger days.
Rette ushered everyone else out of the room. “We’ll be just outside if you need us,” she said softly before closing the door.
Glinda turned the flower over in her palm, finally noticing that the inside of each petal had writing on it. Elphaba’s writing once again, but smudged slightly. Glinda held up the flower, squinting to see what it said on the tiny innermost petal.
Loves me not. And the next. Loves me.
Glinda couldn’t help smiling, turning the flower around and around as the pattern repeated itself through each layer of silk. The words grew bigger with the petals, as did Glinda’s smile.
Loves me. Loves me not. Loves me. Loves me not. Loves me.
The smile suddenly faded, and Glinda gripped the last petal, glaring at it. “No,” she hissed at the flower. But there was no escaping it… As surely as the first petal had said “Loves me not,” so did the last.
Glinda shook with rage, crushing the fragile petals in her hand. Wasn’t it enough of a mockery that Elphaba had stolen Fiyero away? That she’d gone to the trouble to send Fiyero’s engagement ring back to her - and the only gift Glinda had ever given to her?
“Guards!” she found herself crying out, and they appeared as swiftly as they always did. “Is someone out searching for my Fiyero and that horrid witch?”
“They’ve been searching all night, my lady. There’s no word.”
Glinda dropped the flower to the ground and Rette hurried to collect it. “Tell them to search harder. Double their numbers. I want him back, and I want her…” But the last word wouldn’t come out, because it wasn’t true. “No, don’t. Tell them… Just go.” She hated herself in that moment. Why did she have to love the pair of them so much? They had never caused her anything but pain, but she couldn’t bear to condemn them to death.
Puzzled, the guards made their way out, and Rette nodded to the flower. “Would you like me to dispose of this? It’s a shame… It’s such a pretty thing, but it’s dirty and crumpled and missing a petal.”
“What?” Glinda’s voice broke, her words wavering on the brink of anger and tears. “What did you say?”
The maid held up the flower, pointing to the space just next to the last petal. There was a bit of torn silk at the bottom… where a petal might have been, the real final petal.
Loves me.
“I’ll keep it,” Glinda said immediately, taking it back and, despite the presence of the maids, clutching it to her heart.
Elphaba had kept a piece for herself, to remember Glinda by. On it, Glinda realized with a simultaneous smile and sob, were the words she’d longed to see.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Every possible combination with Glinda, Elphaba, and Fiyero.
Summary: Glinda struggles to come to terms with the mess her life has become after Elphaba and Fiyero run away together. I stole a few little bits from the book, but it's overwhelmingly musical-based.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
What have I done?
Glinda had spent all evening blaming everyone who could possibly be blamed. At first, it had been the guards, for letting them go. Elphaba, for stealing what was hers. Fiyero, for leaving.
But now that she had retreated to her room and locked the door against guards, against attendants, against even the Wizard himself, there was only one person she could blame.
What have I done?
It was betrayal of the worst sort, what had happened tonight, but she wasn’t angry anymore. She had no more urge to rage, to lash out at innocent people and vases and windowpanes. Still, she couldn’t fight the image of two hands coming together, two sets of eyes locking… and none of them hers.
She shuddered, hugging her bare shoulders - still wearing that foolish ballgown, she realized, one that she’d bought especially to celebrate her engagement. She’d hardly need it anymore, or the wedding dress that stood expectantly in the corner.
She turned towards the dress now, noting sadly that it was finally finished. How many times had it taken to get those fools to make it perfectly? It was finally everything she’d wanted, with the fine lace she’d ordered and the tiny pink roses around the waist that had taken so long to attach.
It was finished, and now it was worthless. There would be no wedding, she was sure of it. She would never love again. She couldn’t. Yet she felt for the laces at the back of her ballgown, stepping out of it and reaching for the glorious dress she’d spent so long designing.
For a moment, she stopped loathing herself and allowed a hint of a smile to dawn on her face. She was radiant in it despite the tearstains on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the mess her hair had become in hours of screaming and storming around. She reached for the veil, drawing the lace over her imperfections. A veil to conceal the emotions on her face, a dress to conceal the broken heart within her chest.
Yet there was no one to wear them for, and she tore the lace off of her head.
What have I done?
She’d lost Fiyero millions of times already, she knew that. She wasn’t so delusional as to think that he actually loved her… but she’d grown to love him more desperately with each passing moment. If only he’d rejected her years ago, dared to be less than a gentleman in order to save her from the torment she was suffering tonight.
It was to be expected, though, she realized with a sigh, sitting down on her bed and not giving a thought to the wrinkles that were probably now marring her beautiful wedding gown. Surely he would have found someone who he loved more, even if he’d married her, and she’d have to face the searing pain of losing him for good.
But Elphaba…
She’d already lost Elphaba once before, in this very room. The Wizard had never quite understood why she demanded such a remote and small room to be hers, and she’d made up some ridiculous reason - it was the airiest in the palace, was that it? That she wanted a west-facing room to keep the sun from waking her too early?
He didn’t recall what had occurred in that room, not having been there at the moment when her Elphie left her, but Glinda remembered all too well. Elphaba had stepped onto that very windowsill, turning back for one last glance at Glinda. She’d said something, but the guards had been yelling and Glinda had been sobbing and the words had been lost. Only seconds later, Elphaba herself was lost, jumping from the window and trusting that broom to carry her to freedom.
Maybe that was why it hurt so to lose Elphaba again. Glinda had never expected to see her after that horrid day… Yet she was back, and so soon gone. And she’d taken with her the one thing as precious to Glinda as Elphaba herself.
Why couldn’t it have been Glinda who Elphaba reached for, Glinda who she’d taken away? What had she done so wrong that neither Elphaba nor Fiyero could glance back over their shoulders at her? She’d loved them as much and as hard as she could. What else had they wanted of her?
What have I done?
There was a sudden rap at the door, and Glinda started, thankful that she’d locked the door so thoroughly. She didn’t want an intruder tonight… and, more than anything, she didn’t want to be found in her wedding dress like a pathetic, abandoned bride.
Which she was, she knew. Thoroughly pathetic, and doubly abandoned.
“Lady Glinda, the sun is rising,” one of her maids called. “You really must come out. There’s much to be done today. Your breakfast is awaiting you.”
A glance out the window - Elphaba’s window, as she’d always called it to herself - and Glinda saw the faint light spreading across the city beneath her, the mountains to the west reflecting the sun back to her as always. She’d stayed up all night, had she? Perhaps she could send word to the Wizard that she was sick. It was hard enough to go about her duties with a broken heart, but with no sleep as well?
She’d only stayed up all night once before in her life, and she flinched at the memories she couldn’t restrain. The dance at the Ozdust. She’d danced with both of them that night, Elphaba and Fiyero. It was the night when Fiyero had stopped being merely some handsome boy, when Elphaba had finally become something more than green. She’d fallen in love with both of them, with Elphaba when she danced unafraid, pretending as if it didn’t hurt to hear everyone jeering her… and with Fiyero when he hadn’t turned and run after Glinda rushed to Elphaba’s side.
Maybe Fiyero did that for Elphaba’s sake, she thought bitterly now. Maybe he’d loved her even then.
There was another rap on the door, and Glinda made her way to the window, grasping the worn places on the sill where Elphaba’s feet had touched. The wood wasn’t worn from Elphaba’s feet… No, it was Glinda’s hands, resting there hour after hour, with her eyes always turned towards the western sky. She’d turn those words Elphaba had shouted to the frightened city over and over in her head. So, if you care to find me…
I do, Elphaba, I do. I’ve watched for you every morning, every night, every spare moment for all these years… Why haven’t you ever appeared?
Glinda started, noticing a black figure against the sky, off in the distance. Was it… No, it was only a bird, making its way towards her window.
“I bring something for you, my lady,” it suddenly said as it grew close enough to hear. A Bird, then. “From the Witch.”
Elphaba had never attempted to contact her… Even that night, she’d only been in the palace on some mission of hers. It had been an accident that Glinda had stumbled upon her.
Her hands shook as she reached for the small package. “Thank you,” she murmured, but the Bird was already flying back towards the mountains.
She fumbled with the string as she untied it, revealing two pieces of paper - one wrapped around something else, and one with a few lines in Elphaba’s dear scrawl. She took up the letter first, staying near the window for light.
My sweet,
There are no words strong enough to apologize for all I’ve done. I hope that you’ll some day find it in your heart to forgive me - both of us.
Be strong, my sweet, and I beg you to hold out once more. I’ll never forget you.
There was no signature, no names at all… probably in case the note was intercepted, Glinda realized.
She could feel the objects in the second sheet of paper as she went to unwrap them, her heart sinking as she identified them. Both presents she’d given, one to Fiyero and one to Elphaba. A hard circle at the bottom, and a soft mass of silk.
She pulled out the ring first, Fiyero’s ring. She bought them when she’d beguiled him into an engagement… One for her, which she had thrown off somewhere in the ballroom last night, and one for him.
Elphaba’s letter had been almost exciting, a token of love, but Fiyero’s ring could only mean one thing. He was never coming back. There was no chance of undoing what had happened, there was no chance that he’d slip back into her life and marry her.
The rap on the door sounded again. “A moment,” Glinda called, her voice hoarse from crying. The letter had to go into the fire, and the ring, too. The wedding dress went back on its hanger… and the other object, still wrapped in paper, remained on the bed. Glinda couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Getting Fiyero’s ring back was bad enough…
She unlocked the door, admitting the maids who immediately began fussing about her, getting a new gown onto her and offering food that she couldn’t bring herself to eat.
“What’s this?” one of them - Pfannee’s daughter, a flighty young thing who never ceased to irritate Glinda - asked, picking up the object on the bed.
“Nothing,” Glinda whispered.
“Your fiancé has been gone for less than a day and you’re already getting tokens of love from another man?” Just as invasive and suspicious as Pfannee ever was, and twice as obnoxious. The girl was shoved out of the way by one of the other maids, an older one name Rette, and the thing she held in her hands returned to Glinda.
“Leave her be,” Rette snapped at the girl, “and don’t, for the love of Oz, mention him.”
“Thank you, and please... A moment?” Glinda knew that she wouldn’t be able to restrain her tears now that she held it, now that she had no choice but to look at it.
A pink silk flower, a very expensive one, in the sort of luridly bright color that had appealed to Glinda in her younger days.
Rette ushered everyone else out of the room. “We’ll be just outside if you need us,” she said softly before closing the door.
Glinda turned the flower over in her palm, finally noticing that the inside of each petal had writing on it. Elphaba’s writing once again, but smudged slightly. Glinda held up the flower, squinting to see what it said on the tiny innermost petal.
Loves me not. And the next. Loves me.
Glinda couldn’t help smiling, turning the flower around and around as the pattern repeated itself through each layer of silk. The words grew bigger with the petals, as did Glinda’s smile.
Loves me. Loves me not. Loves me. Loves me not. Loves me.
The smile suddenly faded, and Glinda gripped the last petal, glaring at it. “No,” she hissed at the flower. But there was no escaping it… As surely as the first petal had said “Loves me not,” so did the last.
Glinda shook with rage, crushing the fragile petals in her hand. Wasn’t it enough of a mockery that Elphaba had stolen Fiyero away? That she’d gone to the trouble to send Fiyero’s engagement ring back to her - and the only gift Glinda had ever given to her?
“Guards!” she found herself crying out, and they appeared as swiftly as they always did. “Is someone out searching for my Fiyero and that horrid witch?”
“They’ve been searching all night, my lady. There’s no word.”
Glinda dropped the flower to the ground and Rette hurried to collect it. “Tell them to search harder. Double their numbers. I want him back, and I want her…” But the last word wouldn’t come out, because it wasn’t true. “No, don’t. Tell them… Just go.” She hated herself in that moment. Why did she have to love the pair of them so much? They had never caused her anything but pain, but she couldn’t bear to condemn them to death.
Puzzled, the guards made their way out, and Rette nodded to the flower. “Would you like me to dispose of this? It’s a shame… It’s such a pretty thing, but it’s dirty and crumpled and missing a petal.”
“What?” Glinda’s voice broke, her words wavering on the brink of anger and tears. “What did you say?”
The maid held up the flower, pointing to the space just next to the last petal. There was a bit of torn silk at the bottom… where a petal might have been, the real final petal.
Loves me.
“I’ll keep it,” Glinda said immediately, taking it back and, despite the presence of the maids, clutching it to her heart.
Elphaba had kept a piece for herself, to remember Glinda by. On it, Glinda realized with a simultaneous smile and sob, were the words she’d longed to see.