Happy anniversary!
Happy one month anniversary, WickFic community!
So, here I give you another one-shot. I hope you like it. Someday, when I have time, I will post my longer story... but I'm too lazy right now, so here goes my other story:
Title: Feelings you cannot hide from
Book/Musical: Musical
Characters: Elphaba, Glinda. [NOT Gelphie]
Length: 713 words
Rating: For everyone (I really don't know the ratings)
Summary: [Oneshot] My take on Glinda's thoughts after Elphaba's death.
Feelings you cannot hide from
That hat. That damned hat; that horrible, evocative hat. It lay there, lifeless, on the roof of Kiamo Ko’s main tower. It wasn’t even the dim black it used to bear, no. It was more of a washed-out murky color. It was even more unpleasant to the eye than before. What with its sharp features and its graceless motions. But not really, was it? Glinda could not tell anymore. She honestly did not care about the hat’s or any other thing’s appearance for that matter. It was too late. Too late for everything, she thought. She had lost her best friend, her only real friend, the one that had made her develop into who she was, the only one that had understood her fully. And she was gone, at last.
A soft breeze caressed Glinda’s cheek, and she recoiled at the memory of the green woman. The blond closed her eyes and sighed at the regrettable events she had witnessed that evening. Elphaba had been a great woman, one of passion and devotion, sharpness and cleverness. She had been the first person to speak her mind to others, and she had not been afraid to do so to her. Glinda had been dazed at first, but she had learned to admire that quality and so many others that her roommate possessed with time. She could be quite exasperating, she remembered:
“Oh, come one Elphie! Let me take care of you. You’ll be grateful, you’ll see!”
“No, Galinda. I will not let you transform me into… into one of your poor excuses of friends! You know, there is more to a person than what the eye holds.” Elphaba had said, not even bothering to look her way. She would not let her roommate give her a ‘make-over’. Not even for the world.
“But it will be fun! You’ll look so pretty! And I’m not even asking for something in return. Come one… please?” Galinda’s eyes were those like a child eager to open her presents on early Lurlinmas day. Her begging and desperation made Elphaba turn around, now facing the hopeful blond girl, expectant for her answer. She was ready to refuse her once again, but at the sight of her look, she hesitated for a moment.
“I-I… oh, alright. But just a bit. And NOT too noticeable, okay?” Galinda shrieked in joy at the thought of having a new project for her ‘make-over’. She will not regret this, she had thought.
And she did not, indeed; for the experience that that evening had brought to the two new friends would only reinforce their bond, and would stronger their friendship.
But those days were long gone, and the reminiscence would now haunt Glinda. Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West as some called, though Glinda never fully understood why was she named that) was gone now, and there was nothing she could do about that. Not any more.
At least she had her old, depleted hat. The accessory had been given by Galinda to Elphaba because of some mean joke some time before they had decided to let pass their differences. And Elphie had kept it as symbol of their trivial friendship. How silly they both had been.
A single tear was shed as Glinda picked up the aged thing and hugged it tight to her chest, as if it were Elphaba herself. And in a way it was. It represented her like no other object. And it was Glinda’s most precious possession now. She cried uncontrollably for a minute or two, letting her sobs and anguish escape her in a way that was unknown to her or anyone that had known her for the latter years of her life. Glinda the Good, the forgiving, the beautiful, the helpful, was forgotten for a moment, and the Glinda that fewer people knew (for she hardly let herself be acknowledged anymore) was unleashed, proving that grief was not selective and hit everyone all the same.
But Glinda mourned not for the Wicked Witch of the West, but for the person concealed behind that false façade; she mourned for her friend, Elphaba, the kind, loyal friend that nobody got to know really well. Except for her best and only friend, Glinda the Good.
So, here I give you another one-shot. I hope you like it. Someday, when I have time, I will post my longer story... but I'm too lazy right now, so here goes my other story:
Title: Feelings you cannot hide from
Book/Musical: Musical
Characters: Elphaba, Glinda. [NOT Gelphie]
Length: 713 words
Rating: For everyone (I really don't know the ratings)
Summary: [Oneshot] My take on Glinda's thoughts after Elphaba's death.
Feelings you cannot hide from
That hat. That damned hat; that horrible, evocative hat. It lay there, lifeless, on the roof of Kiamo Ko’s main tower. It wasn’t even the dim black it used to bear, no. It was more of a washed-out murky color. It was even more unpleasant to the eye than before. What with its sharp features and its graceless motions. But not really, was it? Glinda could not tell anymore. She honestly did not care about the hat’s or any other thing’s appearance for that matter. It was too late. Too late for everything, she thought. She had lost her best friend, her only real friend, the one that had made her develop into who she was, the only one that had understood her fully. And she was gone, at last.
A soft breeze caressed Glinda’s cheek, and she recoiled at the memory of the green woman. The blond closed her eyes and sighed at the regrettable events she had witnessed that evening. Elphaba had been a great woman, one of passion and devotion, sharpness and cleverness. She had been the first person to speak her mind to others, and she had not been afraid to do so to her. Glinda had been dazed at first, but she had learned to admire that quality and so many others that her roommate possessed with time. She could be quite exasperating, she remembered:
“Oh, come one Elphie! Let me take care of you. You’ll be grateful, you’ll see!”
“No, Galinda. I will not let you transform me into… into one of your poor excuses of friends! You know, there is more to a person than what the eye holds.” Elphaba had said, not even bothering to look her way. She would not let her roommate give her a ‘make-over’. Not even for the world.
“But it will be fun! You’ll look so pretty! And I’m not even asking for something in return. Come one… please?” Galinda’s eyes were those like a child eager to open her presents on early Lurlinmas day. Her begging and desperation made Elphaba turn around, now facing the hopeful blond girl, expectant for her answer. She was ready to refuse her once again, but at the sight of her look, she hesitated for a moment.
“I-I… oh, alright. But just a bit. And NOT too noticeable, okay?” Galinda shrieked in joy at the thought of having a new project for her ‘make-over’. She will not regret this, she had thought.
And she did not, indeed; for the experience that that evening had brought to the two new friends would only reinforce their bond, and would stronger their friendship.
But those days were long gone, and the reminiscence would now haunt Glinda. Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West as some called, though Glinda never fully understood why was she named that) was gone now, and there was nothing she could do about that. Not any more.
At least she had her old, depleted hat. The accessory had been given by Galinda to Elphaba because of some mean joke some time before they had decided to let pass their differences. And Elphie had kept it as symbol of their trivial friendship. How silly they both had been.
A single tear was shed as Glinda picked up the aged thing and hugged it tight to her chest, as if it were Elphaba herself. And in a way it was. It represented her like no other object. And it was Glinda’s most precious possession now. She cried uncontrollably for a minute or two, letting her sobs and anguish escape her in a way that was unknown to her or anyone that had known her for the latter years of her life. Glinda the Good, the forgiving, the beautiful, the helpful, was forgotten for a moment, and the Glinda that fewer people knew (for she hardly let herself be acknowledged anymore) was unleashed, proving that grief was not selective and hit everyone all the same.
But Glinda mourned not for the Wicked Witch of the West, but for the person concealed behind that false façade; she mourned for her friend, Elphaba, the kind, loyal friend that nobody got to know really well. Except for her best and only friend, Glinda the Good.