Omnia Vincit Amor 2/? by blowers_daughtr, R
Title: Omnia Vincit Amor (2/?)
Author: blowers_daughtr
Rating: R
Summary: Elphaba and Glinda reunite after two decades of separation.
Author's Notes: Link to Part 1
Part2
Glinda’s hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders as she knelt over the thin body of the woman who, the day before, fainted into the blonde’s arms. Elphaba’s eyelids opened slowly, her vision still hazy. Glinda was positioned so near to Elphaba she could smell her, that faint, familiar scent of cleanness and rose petals.
The green woman’s eyelids fell shut and she breathed deeply, allowing herself to be filled with the pleasant fragrance-Shiz, encompassed by the smell of Glinda, Glinda’s embrace as Elphaba allowed herself to cry in the presence of someone else for the first time, Glinda’s soothing words. Elphaba remembered it well, the first time Glinda said those words. The three words were simple, and Glinda did not seem terribly distraught to have said them, though they stirred an unpleasant emotional torrent within Elphaba. It had all been so foreign, someone caring about and depending on Elphaba. And in return for the immeasurable love gifted by Glinda, the Witch managed only to bring Glinda pain.
Elphaba opened her eyes again, staring dizzily into Glinda’s face. A lamp behind Glinda caused her hair to glow as Elphaba glimpsed the Glinda she once knew and the Glinda before her simultaneously.
“I tried to clean you up a bit while you slept,” Glinda said as she retrieved a bottle from the night table beside the bed, “but there are places I missed because I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Stay still,” the blonde instructed, her voice every bit as pleasant as it had been in her youth.
The Witch would not have been able to move even if she’d wanted to. Whether it was her injuries or Glinda’s touch that made her weak, Elphaba wasn’t sure, but her head spun, her stomach churned, and she was far too comfortable where she lay to want to leave.
Glinda proceeded to massage sweet-smelling oils into the burns and scratches on Elphaba’s face and neck, gently reaching beneath the bed sheets in search of Elphaba’s hand. She stroked Elphaba’s fingers lovingly to sooth the green woman when Glinda’s applied oil to Elphaba’s more serious injuries.
“It’s to keep it clean as you heal.” Glinda explained when Elphaba flinched.
The fair-haired woman’s voice was soft, and her touch was tender. She ran her other hand through the thick strands of Elphaba’s glossy black hair, still smooth and silky despite the hardships she’d endured.
“Did you sleep well, my love?” Glinda murmured as she pressed her lips to Elphaba’s temple.
Thin green lips parted, trembling at the touch of Glinda’s lips, as the Witch drew in a shaky breath.
“I…” the Witch’s voice wavered as she tried to speak, “How long have I been here?”
The Witch’s frustration was etched across her face; her eyes darted around the immaculately furnished room in search of an escape. Her brow creased, and her mouth formed a thin line. Elphaba recoiled when Glinda’s cloth moved to one of the deeper wounds.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” Glinda slipped her hand in Elphaba’s, “squeeze my hand if you need.”
Elphaba’s hand remained limp until Glinda began to clean the most infected areas of Elphaba’s skin. Elphaba winced, and her hand gripped Glinda’s so tightly the color drained from both of their hands.
“There,” Glinda said quietly as she dressed and bandaged Elphaba’s injuries.
Elphaba swallowed hard, relieved that the sting had ceased, but furious with herself for showing such weakness, especially in the presence of the woman the girl Elphaba had been so in love with had become. And what a breathtakingly gorgeous woman Glinda was: her eyes sparkled with the same turquoise-tinted light that had danced within them when she was 17, her hair was just as golden as before, her face had become thinner, her features more defined, and her voice was deeper, but these small changes served to accentuate her beauty.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, “I brought you some things from the kitchen you might like, and if there’s something you’d like that I didn’t bring I can have the cooks fix you anything.”
“Your cooks? Animals working against their will, I suspect.” The Witch managed to spit bitterly, pleased with herself for regaining some of her energy and spite.
“No,” said Glinda, unfazed by the way Elphaba snapped at her, “we have all human-help. And everything I’ve brought you is vegetarian. I’m a vegetarian myself, actually…”
Elphaba was silent, and found it increasingly difficult to maintain an icy façade.
“It’s okay to let me take care of you. I know you’re stubborn and you’ll never admit you need someone…” Glinda’s words were laced with longing, the longing to be loved by Elphaba in the same way Glinda had continued to love Elphaba all this time, “but everyone needs someone to look after them sometimes.”
The Witch turned her head and avoided Glinda’s gaze. Elphaba’s hand, however, remained in Glinda’s, even when Glinda began, once more, to caress Elphaba’s fingers.
“You always did enjoy sprouts,” Glinda continued as she stood and brought Elphaba a tray, “and there are nuts and tomatoes if you’d like. And there’s soup, too. One of the cooks makes a lovely tomato bisque as wonderfully as the Ram whose bisque you enjoyed so much at Shiz. And there’s bread if you’d like to have it with the soup, or without the soup, too, I suppose, and I can always call for something else.”
Elphaba turned her head towards Glinda, a whiff of the tomato bisque reminding Elphaba how hungry she was.
“This will do,” said the Witch in a voice that was not her own, “this is more than enough.”
Glinda breathed a sigh of relief and smiled genuinely, “Oh good,” she gushed, “I so hoped you’d like it. I didn’t know if you still liked now what you used to enjoy at Shiz, and-” Galinda rambled on in the girlish way she usually did when she was nervous, excited, or both. She stopped herself abruptly, and said calmly, “I want you to eat all of it. You’re terribly thin-and to drink! Oh, I can’t believe I forgot! I’ll go and fetch you a pitcher of milk, I won’t be long!”
“Glinda-” Elphaba began, not wanting to be fawned over.
“No, Elphie, you must drink. Why do you think you collapsed before? It’s because you’re hungry, and thirsty, and malnourished, and you’ve got the boniness to prove it! Now, sit tight my dear, I shouldn’t be long.”
The silence following Glinda’s departure was discomforting. Without the sound of Glinda’s constant chattering Elphaba was left only with the sound of her own blood throbbing in her ears. She felt flushed, and couldn’t quite make sense of what was going on around her.
Elphaba tried, with difficulty, to recall the events leading up to her present, dreamlike state. She had been mourning Nessa in the clearing. Nessa, her own sister, her flesh and blood-was it wrong, Elphaba wondered, that she didn’t quite miss her? Was it wrong that while Elphaba had felt the aching emptiness of Glinda’s absence daily for the past twenty years, Elphaba was not completely upset with the prospect of never seeing her sister again?
And then there had been Glinda, a sparkling vision of pinks and pale blues illuminated by the sunlight as her bubble neared the ground. Elphaba had hidden among the cornstalks, startled by Glinda’s appearance.
The Witch composed herself, channeling every bit of emotion she felt for Glinda into feelings of hatred and deceit. How dare Glinda allow her former best friend and lover to be hunted? How dare Glinda return to the scene of Nessarose’s murder when it was likely Glinda knew the Wizard would arrange for Nessa to be killed and did nothing to stop it?
But anger faltered in the face of love. As Elphaba’s resolve to remain cold towards Glinda had melted, as did the Witch’s strength. She’d become weak, and must have lost consciousness, because the next thing she remembered was waking up in what she assumed was Glinda’s bedroom.
“Miss Glinda, your goodness,” the voice of a younger female could now be heard from behind the closed door of the room.
“Camilla, you needn’t bow in my presence. It’s silly, I’m no more important than you or anyone else.”
“My sincerest apologies, your goodness,” the servant girl called Camilla replied.
“No need,” Glinda said kindly, “what is it you meant to tell me?”
“Master desired I give you a message, he regrets that you are ill but insists you appear at the Wizard’s military convention this evening.”
“Should you see Master Chuffery, please tell him I will not be attending.” Glinda replied curtly, clearly unhappy with her husband’s demand.
“He says for me to tell you that it’s urgent and that the Wizard himself requests your presence, and that it will reflect poorly on Master if you do not show.”
The discomfort in Glinda’s voice was evident, “Very well. Mustn’t blemish his precious reputation. If you could, would you remind Sir Chuffery that attending outings while ill will only delay my recovery, thus lengthening the amount of time I shall abstain from his bed.”
“I…” Camilla seemed taken aback by Glinda’s remark, “I will, your goodness.”
“Thank you, Camilla.”
After Camilla’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Glinda returned to the room in which Elphaba slept.
The blonde smiled when she saw that Elphaba had fallen asleep. She set the pitcher of milk on the nightstand and removed the tray of food from Elphaba’s lap, applying simple chilling and heating enchantments on the milk and soup, respectively, to keep them from spoiling.
Elphaba, however, was not sleeping. She’d shut her eyes as the door opened to avoid conversation with Glinda; for now, Elphaba decided, she only wished to stop time, to forget where and who she was, she wished to clear her mind, and she concentrated only on the lilting sound of Glinda’s voice as she hummed softly to herself.
There was the sound of ruffling dresses, and Elphaba cracked one eye open to find Glinda busily examining the contents of her wardrobe. Elphaba averted her eyes as Glinda began to undress. Elphaba couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to invade Glinda’s privacy in such a way. But curiosity compelled the green girl to look, if only for a moment, simply to see if Glinda’s body was as flawless as Elphaba remembered it to be.
The satin straps of Glinda’s bra slid over her shoulders, and with small, manicured fingers, Glinda undid the clasp and allowed the undergarment to fall to the floor.
Even with her back to Elphaba, the outline of Glinda’s voluptuous chest was visible. As she pulled the pale green dress she’d selected from her wardrobe Glinda turned slightly, rendering the side of her milky white breasts and pert, pink nipples visible. Elphaba’s breath caught. She cursed herself for indulging herself, and vowed never to look upon Glinda in that way again.
Elphaba was unsure whether she’d fallen asleep or merely shut her eyes for a moment to avoid gazing at Glinda’s naked form. This time when Elphaba opened her eyes Glinda was seated at her vanity applying a layer of blush to her already heavily made up face. Her lips were colored red, her eyelashes darkened, thickened, and lengthened by mascara. She dusted glitter across hear heaving chest, heaving due to the constrictive nature of the corset she wore. Her hair was held back in an elegant bun, held together with a series of crisscrossing, diamond-encrusted pins, and when Glinda was finished applying her new face, she stared listlessly into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman who stared back.
Glinda turned to glance at Elphaba, and a smile came to her painted lips when she discovered the green woman had awoken.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” Glinda said as she gathered her skirts and rose from her vanity. “How do you feel?”
Elphaba felt it was she who should be asking that question of Glinda. The hollow emptiness in her grey-blue eyes as she fixed her makeup and hair left Elphaba with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach; for whatever reason, Glinda was unhappy.
“Fine. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, you really didn’t have to…”
“It’s nothing, really.” Glinda said breathlessly, her cheeks suddenly becoming flushed. She breathed unevenly, possibly because of her corset or because of the quickening of her heart.
“I should probably leave…” Elphaba began.
“No!” Glinda was quick to respond, a little louder than she’d intended. “You shouldn’t. You aren’t well.”
“By staying I put you in eminent danger. Your husband won’t take kindly to your hiding a fugitive.”
“I don’t care about my husband.” Glinda said bitterly.
Elphaba was silent. The woman before her seemed so familiar, yet vastly different than Elphaba remembered her to be. Glinda possessed the same, alluring quality she had in her youth, the same charm, the same impeccable sense of style, and the same way of rambling aimlessly when excited. She had, however, changed over the years; she was humbler than before, and her heart had hardened. Sometimes, such as when she mentioned her husband, Glinda lost her calm and cheerful air. Her tone became cold and her voice dropped. For some reason she harbored hostility for the man she’d married, and this came as a shock to Elphaba, who had never known Glinda to harbor hostility towards anyone. Elphaba had tried to convince herself that Glinda married for love, if only to ease the guilt Elphaba felt for leaving her. If Glinda loved someone else, it meant she no longer loved Elphaba, easing the pain of Elphaba’s absence. Elphaba had assumed Glinda’s marriage was a sign she’d moved on, and although this pained Elphaba, she’d hoped Glinda was happy.
“I’ve put a charm on the doors and windows of this room. No one but I can open them. You’re safe here. I have to go out tonight, but I shouldn’t be out past midnight. Will you be alright on your own, my love?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Part 3
Author: blowers_daughtr
Rating: R
Summary: Elphaba and Glinda reunite after two decades of separation.
Author's Notes: Link to Part 1
Part2
Glinda’s hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders as she knelt over the thin body of the woman who, the day before, fainted into the blonde’s arms. Elphaba’s eyelids opened slowly, her vision still hazy. Glinda was positioned so near to Elphaba she could smell her, that faint, familiar scent of cleanness and rose petals.
The green woman’s eyelids fell shut and she breathed deeply, allowing herself to be filled with the pleasant fragrance-Shiz, encompassed by the smell of Glinda, Glinda’s embrace as Elphaba allowed herself to cry in the presence of someone else for the first time, Glinda’s soothing words. Elphaba remembered it well, the first time Glinda said those words. The three words were simple, and Glinda did not seem terribly distraught to have said them, though they stirred an unpleasant emotional torrent within Elphaba. It had all been so foreign, someone caring about and depending on Elphaba. And in return for the immeasurable love gifted by Glinda, the Witch managed only to bring Glinda pain.
Elphaba opened her eyes again, staring dizzily into Glinda’s face. A lamp behind Glinda caused her hair to glow as Elphaba glimpsed the Glinda she once knew and the Glinda before her simultaneously.
“I tried to clean you up a bit while you slept,” Glinda said as she retrieved a bottle from the night table beside the bed, “but there are places I missed because I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Stay still,” the blonde instructed, her voice every bit as pleasant as it had been in her youth.
The Witch would not have been able to move even if she’d wanted to. Whether it was her injuries or Glinda’s touch that made her weak, Elphaba wasn’t sure, but her head spun, her stomach churned, and she was far too comfortable where she lay to want to leave.
Glinda proceeded to massage sweet-smelling oils into the burns and scratches on Elphaba’s face and neck, gently reaching beneath the bed sheets in search of Elphaba’s hand. She stroked Elphaba’s fingers lovingly to sooth the green woman when Glinda’s applied oil to Elphaba’s more serious injuries.
“It’s to keep it clean as you heal.” Glinda explained when Elphaba flinched.
The fair-haired woman’s voice was soft, and her touch was tender. She ran her other hand through the thick strands of Elphaba’s glossy black hair, still smooth and silky despite the hardships she’d endured.
“Did you sleep well, my love?” Glinda murmured as she pressed her lips to Elphaba’s temple.
Thin green lips parted, trembling at the touch of Glinda’s lips, as the Witch drew in a shaky breath.
“I…” the Witch’s voice wavered as she tried to speak, “How long have I been here?”
The Witch’s frustration was etched across her face; her eyes darted around the immaculately furnished room in search of an escape. Her brow creased, and her mouth formed a thin line. Elphaba recoiled when Glinda’s cloth moved to one of the deeper wounds.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” Glinda slipped her hand in Elphaba’s, “squeeze my hand if you need.”
Elphaba’s hand remained limp until Glinda began to clean the most infected areas of Elphaba’s skin. Elphaba winced, and her hand gripped Glinda’s so tightly the color drained from both of their hands.
“There,” Glinda said quietly as she dressed and bandaged Elphaba’s injuries.
Elphaba swallowed hard, relieved that the sting had ceased, but furious with herself for showing such weakness, especially in the presence of the woman the girl Elphaba had been so in love with had become. And what a breathtakingly gorgeous woman Glinda was: her eyes sparkled with the same turquoise-tinted light that had danced within them when she was 17, her hair was just as golden as before, her face had become thinner, her features more defined, and her voice was deeper, but these small changes served to accentuate her beauty.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, “I brought you some things from the kitchen you might like, and if there’s something you’d like that I didn’t bring I can have the cooks fix you anything.”
“Your cooks? Animals working against their will, I suspect.” The Witch managed to spit bitterly, pleased with herself for regaining some of her energy and spite.
“No,” said Glinda, unfazed by the way Elphaba snapped at her, “we have all human-help. And everything I’ve brought you is vegetarian. I’m a vegetarian myself, actually…”
Elphaba was silent, and found it increasingly difficult to maintain an icy façade.
“It’s okay to let me take care of you. I know you’re stubborn and you’ll never admit you need someone…” Glinda’s words were laced with longing, the longing to be loved by Elphaba in the same way Glinda had continued to love Elphaba all this time, “but everyone needs someone to look after them sometimes.”
The Witch turned her head and avoided Glinda’s gaze. Elphaba’s hand, however, remained in Glinda’s, even when Glinda began, once more, to caress Elphaba’s fingers.
“You always did enjoy sprouts,” Glinda continued as she stood and brought Elphaba a tray, “and there are nuts and tomatoes if you’d like. And there’s soup, too. One of the cooks makes a lovely tomato bisque as wonderfully as the Ram whose bisque you enjoyed so much at Shiz. And there’s bread if you’d like to have it with the soup, or without the soup, too, I suppose, and I can always call for something else.”
Elphaba turned her head towards Glinda, a whiff of the tomato bisque reminding Elphaba how hungry she was.
“This will do,” said the Witch in a voice that was not her own, “this is more than enough.”
Glinda breathed a sigh of relief and smiled genuinely, “Oh good,” she gushed, “I so hoped you’d like it. I didn’t know if you still liked now what you used to enjoy at Shiz, and-” Galinda rambled on in the girlish way she usually did when she was nervous, excited, or both. She stopped herself abruptly, and said calmly, “I want you to eat all of it. You’re terribly thin-and to drink! Oh, I can’t believe I forgot! I’ll go and fetch you a pitcher of milk, I won’t be long!”
“Glinda-” Elphaba began, not wanting to be fawned over.
“No, Elphie, you must drink. Why do you think you collapsed before? It’s because you’re hungry, and thirsty, and malnourished, and you’ve got the boniness to prove it! Now, sit tight my dear, I shouldn’t be long.”
The silence following Glinda’s departure was discomforting. Without the sound of Glinda’s constant chattering Elphaba was left only with the sound of her own blood throbbing in her ears. She felt flushed, and couldn’t quite make sense of what was going on around her.
Elphaba tried, with difficulty, to recall the events leading up to her present, dreamlike state. She had been mourning Nessa in the clearing. Nessa, her own sister, her flesh and blood-was it wrong, Elphaba wondered, that she didn’t quite miss her? Was it wrong that while Elphaba had felt the aching emptiness of Glinda’s absence daily for the past twenty years, Elphaba was not completely upset with the prospect of never seeing her sister again?
And then there had been Glinda, a sparkling vision of pinks and pale blues illuminated by the sunlight as her bubble neared the ground. Elphaba had hidden among the cornstalks, startled by Glinda’s appearance.
The Witch composed herself, channeling every bit of emotion she felt for Glinda into feelings of hatred and deceit. How dare Glinda allow her former best friend and lover to be hunted? How dare Glinda return to the scene of Nessarose’s murder when it was likely Glinda knew the Wizard would arrange for Nessa to be killed and did nothing to stop it?
But anger faltered in the face of love. As Elphaba’s resolve to remain cold towards Glinda had melted, as did the Witch’s strength. She’d become weak, and must have lost consciousness, because the next thing she remembered was waking up in what she assumed was Glinda’s bedroom.
“Miss Glinda, your goodness,” the voice of a younger female could now be heard from behind the closed door of the room.
“Camilla, you needn’t bow in my presence. It’s silly, I’m no more important than you or anyone else.”
“My sincerest apologies, your goodness,” the servant girl called Camilla replied.
“No need,” Glinda said kindly, “what is it you meant to tell me?”
“Master desired I give you a message, he regrets that you are ill but insists you appear at the Wizard’s military convention this evening.”
“Should you see Master Chuffery, please tell him I will not be attending.” Glinda replied curtly, clearly unhappy with her husband’s demand.
“He says for me to tell you that it’s urgent and that the Wizard himself requests your presence, and that it will reflect poorly on Master if you do not show.”
The discomfort in Glinda’s voice was evident, “Very well. Mustn’t blemish his precious reputation. If you could, would you remind Sir Chuffery that attending outings while ill will only delay my recovery, thus lengthening the amount of time I shall abstain from his bed.”
“I…” Camilla seemed taken aback by Glinda’s remark, “I will, your goodness.”
“Thank you, Camilla.”
After Camilla’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Glinda returned to the room in which Elphaba slept.
The blonde smiled when she saw that Elphaba had fallen asleep. She set the pitcher of milk on the nightstand and removed the tray of food from Elphaba’s lap, applying simple chilling and heating enchantments on the milk and soup, respectively, to keep them from spoiling.
Elphaba, however, was not sleeping. She’d shut her eyes as the door opened to avoid conversation with Glinda; for now, Elphaba decided, she only wished to stop time, to forget where and who she was, she wished to clear her mind, and she concentrated only on the lilting sound of Glinda’s voice as she hummed softly to herself.
There was the sound of ruffling dresses, and Elphaba cracked one eye open to find Glinda busily examining the contents of her wardrobe. Elphaba averted her eyes as Glinda began to undress. Elphaba couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to invade Glinda’s privacy in such a way. But curiosity compelled the green girl to look, if only for a moment, simply to see if Glinda’s body was as flawless as Elphaba remembered it to be.
The satin straps of Glinda’s bra slid over her shoulders, and with small, manicured fingers, Glinda undid the clasp and allowed the undergarment to fall to the floor.
Even with her back to Elphaba, the outline of Glinda’s voluptuous chest was visible. As she pulled the pale green dress she’d selected from her wardrobe Glinda turned slightly, rendering the side of her milky white breasts and pert, pink nipples visible. Elphaba’s breath caught. She cursed herself for indulging herself, and vowed never to look upon Glinda in that way again.
Elphaba was unsure whether she’d fallen asleep or merely shut her eyes for a moment to avoid gazing at Glinda’s naked form. This time when Elphaba opened her eyes Glinda was seated at her vanity applying a layer of blush to her already heavily made up face. Her lips were colored red, her eyelashes darkened, thickened, and lengthened by mascara. She dusted glitter across hear heaving chest, heaving due to the constrictive nature of the corset she wore. Her hair was held back in an elegant bun, held together with a series of crisscrossing, diamond-encrusted pins, and when Glinda was finished applying her new face, she stared listlessly into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman who stared back.
Glinda turned to glance at Elphaba, and a smile came to her painted lips when she discovered the green woman had awoken.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” Glinda said as she gathered her skirts and rose from her vanity. “How do you feel?”
Elphaba felt it was she who should be asking that question of Glinda. The hollow emptiness in her grey-blue eyes as she fixed her makeup and hair left Elphaba with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach; for whatever reason, Glinda was unhappy.
“Fine. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, you really didn’t have to…”
“It’s nothing, really.” Glinda said breathlessly, her cheeks suddenly becoming flushed. She breathed unevenly, possibly because of her corset or because of the quickening of her heart.
“I should probably leave…” Elphaba began.
“No!” Glinda was quick to respond, a little louder than she’d intended. “You shouldn’t. You aren’t well.”
“By staying I put you in eminent danger. Your husband won’t take kindly to your hiding a fugitive.”
“I don’t care about my husband.” Glinda said bitterly.
Elphaba was silent. The woman before her seemed so familiar, yet vastly different than Elphaba remembered her to be. Glinda possessed the same, alluring quality she had in her youth, the same charm, the same impeccable sense of style, and the same way of rambling aimlessly when excited. She had, however, changed over the years; she was humbler than before, and her heart had hardened. Sometimes, such as when she mentioned her husband, Glinda lost her calm and cheerful air. Her tone became cold and her voice dropped. For some reason she harbored hostility for the man she’d married, and this came as a shock to Elphaba, who had never known Glinda to harbor hostility towards anyone. Elphaba had tried to convince herself that Glinda married for love, if only to ease the guilt Elphaba felt for leaving her. If Glinda loved someone else, it meant she no longer loved Elphaba, easing the pain of Elphaba’s absence. Elphaba had assumed Glinda’s marriage was a sign she’d moved on, and although this pained Elphaba, she’d hoped Glinda was happy.
“I’ve put a charm on the doors and windows of this room. No one but I can open them. You’re safe here. I have to go out tonight, but I shouldn’t be out past midnight. Will you be alright on your own, my love?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Part 3