The Effects of Gravity 11/? by ainsleyaisling
Title: The Effects of Gravity 11/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG-13
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Glinda and Elphaba are off to see the Wizard - again.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Previous section and links to all previous sections can be found here.
~~Elphaba~~
By the time Elphaba reached the room she shared with Glinda that night, her heart was pounding and she felt as though her face must be on fire. It was all too much: another professor rummaging in (maybe) Doctor Dillamond's bombed-out rooms, yet another professor almost certainly spying for the Wizard - but spying on whom? - and Fiyero . . . just Fiyero. Not to mention the prospect of returning to the Emerald City, and to the Wizard and Morrible's clutches, in barely a week's time. Last time she had managed to be brave long enough to keep herself and Glinda safe - for the time being - but the trip had ended with her in a near-catatonic state and Glinda needing to fend for both of them. And she was still faced with the decision of whether, or when, to tell Glinda the whole truth about her last conversation with the Wizard.
When she opened the door to their room, Glinda was settled comfortably on the floor in front of the fireplace, with the light dancing across her face and setting her hair aglow. She looked up when Elphaba entered, but her face was still set in a frown of confusion that had presumably been directed at the sorcery text that lay before her on the floor. Her hair hung straight and surprisingly unadorned over her shoulders, and pale fingers twisted a quill with studied concentration. She was so lovely, and she was trying so hard, and Elphaba's mind was still so riddled with confusion and doubt and truly awkward thoughts that she would have preferred to forget entirely, that she simply dropped straight to the floor and threw her arms tightly around Glinda.
Glinda returned the embrace immediately, murmuring without real complaint, "You're so cold, Elphie." But she pulled back after a moment and asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No. Yes." Elphaba settled back on her heels and slipped her cloak from her shoulders. There was at least one part of the evening's events that she could and should share with Glinda, anyway. "I saw -" No; honesty (as far as possible, anyway) was likely to avoid trouble later. "Fiyero walked me back from the library, and we saw someone trying to break in to one of the old Animal faculty apartments. He said it was his political science professor." She looked at Glinda carefully, but her friend seemed to have had little reaction to the mention of Fiyero. "I think there are more spies among the faculty - more than just Morrible, I mean."
Glinda closed her book slowly, using the quill to mark her place. "I suppose we could have predicted that, especially with Morrible gone. We've never really settled whether Madame Greyling is likely to be on their side."
"I know. It's just . . . it's worse, somehow, thinking that we can't trust anyone even here."
Elphaba had shivered as she spoke, and Glinda reached for a blanket and tucked it around her shoulders. "Here, it's cold to be out so late," she said. "So Fiyero was at the library again? I wondered."
"I think his project is finished now," Elphaba said. She knew she should stop talking, but the words kept coming at a pace she knew must have sounded nervous. "I saw him as he was leaving and he insisted on walking back with me, because it was so late. That's when we saw Professor Roka and he recognized her; I wouldn't have."
"That was nice of him," Glinda said mildly. "To walk you back I mean, not the recognizing his professor. Although no doubt that's the part you appreciated, if I know you at all."
"No doubt," Elphaba echoed.
Glinda leaned over and patted her hand. "Maybe you should go to bed, Elphie. You're not looking so well."
Elphaba was tempted to take the escape offered, but she shook her head and said, "No, I can stay up and help you study. I could use some more work myself." Glinda reopened her sorcery text with a pleased sort of noise, and Elphaba forced herself to forget about Animals and Fiyero and everything else for long enough to help her master a fire spell. It had become one of the great ironies of their academic lives that Glinda could set things on fire only when she was trying to do something else.
By the time they had to leave for the Emerald City Glinda had learned to create fire without using her wand (in this particular situation, using it actually seemed to make matters worse) and had only burned one of her hands - the left - and that not too badly. The night before their departure they stayed up late practicing spells, mostly because neither of them could face the idea of sleep until they had thoroughly exhausted themselves. Elphaba knew, as well, that Glinda's injured hand was bothering her. She also didn't need the overwhelming sense of deja vu to know that neither of those things was the reason for Glinda's pallor and her tense silence. Their train was about to leave, and Fiyero wasn't there.
Elphaba of course had no intention of mentioning either his absence or Glinda's reaction to it. Instead she did a very Glinda thing: she sank down onto a bench and buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said immediately, and predictably, picking her way over and around their luggage to sit beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Are you getting nervous again?" Glinda sounded almost as grateful for the distraction as Elphaba was to have provided it.
Elphaba's anxiety was of course not entirely feigned, and she leaned her head momentarily on Glinda's shoulder with real appreciation for the comfort she offered. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sure it will be fine."
A hand, heavier than Glinda's, descended on her shoulder as she spoke and she twisted around to see Fiyero standing over them, his other hand on Glinda's shoulder. "I'm glad I caught you," he said.
Glinda shrugged off his hand and stood, primly smoothing the front of her dress. "In another minute we would have left," she said quietly.
"Then it's a good thing I didn't miss you," Fiyero replied, his expression not quite matching the studied casual tone. "I wanted to make sure I said good luck, to both of you."
To Elphaba's mind "both of you" was a misstep, and certainly it didn't seem to melt any of the ice in Glinda's eyes. Suddenly being on a train to the Emerald City didn't seem like such an awful idea. Elphaba patted Fiyero's elbow awkwardly and said, "Thanks very much. Glinda, I'll just go and get us a compartment." She picked up her suitcase and escaped hurriedly in the direction of the train - then, too slow, remembered Glinda's sore hand and her two suitcases. She dashed back to the bench, where Glinda and Fiyero were still facing off in a rather stony silence. Elphaba whispered, "Excuse me," grabbed the larger of Glinda's suitcases in her free hand, and bolted back to the relative safety of the train.
Glinda joined her as the conductor was beginning to hurry the last passengers onto the train, sliding into their compartment and dropping her suitcase onto the empty bench. She sank down onto her seat and leaned her head on Elphaba's shoulder, asking miserably, "Did you see?"
If Glinda was asking her opinion, the time to pretend everything was all right had passed. Elphaba took Glinda's hand in hers and said, "Things seemed a little tense."
"It's more than tense. Tense would be a relief." Glinda turned her face into Elphaba's shoulder, poking it halfheartedly with one finger. "Bony."
"Can't help that."
"I know." Glinda shifted until she had found a more comfortable position. "I just don't know what to do, Elphie. It's - one minute everything's fine, and the next minute it's like he can't get away from me fast enough, and I just wonder . . ."
"What?" Elphaba asked after waiting in vain for Glinda to continue. Beneath them the train's wheels began to clack their way toward the Emerald City.
"If he's just pretending, all those times he seems to want to be with me. Sometimes he just doesn't seem to feel anything at all - we're so perfect for each other, but what if that isn't enough?"
"I don't know," Elphaba replied. "I wish I did."
"We're moving," Glinda commented unnecessarily, turning her head to watch the trees begin to roll by. Her hand tightened in Elphaba's, and she added, "I didn't mean to forget all about you. Still nervous?"
"Yes. You?"
"Yes." She sighed. "At least fussing with Fiyero got me on the train."
"So here we go again."
"Off to see the Wizard."
"And Morrible. And the Palace guards." Elphaba knew her tone had betrayed her, and she was right.
"They must frighten you," Glinda said, stroking her thumb over Elphaba's hand.
"They do."
Glinda turned so that she could put both arms around Elphaba, and pressed a hard kiss to her temple. "I'm here," she said softly.
"I'm glad," Elphaba replied when she felt capable of speaking.
~~Glinda~~
The streets and streets of green made little impression on her this time - possibly because she was busy worrying about the very unhealthy shade of green Elphaba had turned as they were pulling into the Emerald City station, or possibly because she was distracted by the squadron of guards sent to escort them to their hotel. They had come with a carriage for the girls, and without the large weapons carried by the guards inside the Palace; but their presence was disturbing enough regardless, and Glinda spent most of the trip to the hotel trying to swallow her own fear and keep Elphaba from fainting - an eventuality that seemed more and more likely the longer they were in the presence of the guards.
This time their hotel room provided little relief from the general verdigris of the City (although it did, fortunately, provide significant relief from the guards, who left them at the door). The furnishings were just as green as everything else with the exception of the bath, which was a refreshing shade of creamy marble. "I'm already thinking of just moving into the bathroom," Glinda joked weakly as she and Elphaba pulled their suitcases into the room.
"I think that sounds like a very sensible idea." Elphaba both looked and sounded wan, but some of the color - a color which, incidentally, matched the stripes on the wallpaper - was returning to her face.
"Just one bed again," Glinda mused, running her hands over the duvet. "Not that it matters, it's giant enough. Odd though." Strangely, Elphaba now seemed to have rather too much color. "Elphie? Something wrong?"
"No," Elphaba said quickly, in a way that strongly suggested she was lying. "How's your hand?"
"A little sore still." It throbbed, actually, but she saw no need to worry Elphaba. "I'll put some of that salve on it later. How long until we have to be at the Palace?"
"Not long." Their instructions had been delivered by the guards on a sickly-green scroll, which Elphaba still had clutched in her hands. "Are you hungry?"
"Not in the least."
"Me either." She sat down on the bed, finally setting the scroll down beside her.
"Feeling brave?" Glinda asked, pausing midway through opening her suitcase to hang up her clothes.
"The truth?" Elphaba looked up at her with her brow furrowed. "Not really."
Brave or not, they arrived at the doors to the Palace at the appointed time, holding tightly to each other's hands. The guard at the gate took one look at the scroll they carried - and, more likely, at Elphaba's easily recognizable face - and summoned a superior who escorted them at a punishing pace to the Wizard's throne room. This time when they entered there was no fanfare, no proclamations or questions booming from the giant golden head suspended over the throne. Today it hung motionless, and all was silent until the door had closed behind the two girls. Then the Wizard himself dared to emerge from behind his throne, looking just as Glinda remembered him in his neat suit and small spectacles. She held tighter to Elphaba's hand with both of her own.
"Well, girls!" The Wizard's tone was friendly, but Glinda knew better than to trust his temper. She had seen it turn quickly enough. "I hope your trip was pleasant."
Elphaba seemed disinclined, or perhaps unable, to answer, and the Wizard's eyes were flickering between them expectantly, so Glinda finally murmured, "Yes, thank you, your Ozness." In the cavernous throne room her words seemed to disappear into the air as soon as she had uttered them, but the Wizard appeared to be satisfied.
"I'm sure you're curious about your time here," he continued, "but there's nothing to be nervous about. You'll remember that your old headmistress is here - she's eager to see how far you've progressed in your sorcery studies with your new teacher. Elphaba," he said, turning his attention to her in a way that truly did seem a little bit fond, "have you made any progress with the book?"
Elphaba didn't react physically, and when she spoke her voice was even. Of course, they had predicted that the Wizard must know she had the Grimmerie. "A bit," she said.
"And Glinda?" The Wizard was asking Elphaba still, not Glinda herself. "Any progress, under your guidance?"
Now Elphaba did react with a tensing of all her muscles, which Glinda didn't understand. "Yes, some," she replied, still keeping her voice under tight control.
The Wizard clapped his hands together. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear you're still working so well as a team, eh? Madame Morrible will be delighted. Let me just call her." He disappeared behind the giant throne for a moment, still talking to them as he pitched his voice loud enough to be heard. "We'll have you back to your hotel in no time tonight, ladies. Just wanted to make sure you arrived as scheduled and with no difficulties - of course, Madame will want to decide how early she'd like to see you tomorrow." With a barely audible creak a door opened somewhere at the back of the room, and the Wizard exclaimed, "Ah, Madame Morrible."
Their old headmistress slid into the room with the suavity of a lizard, her eyes trained hard on Elphaba. "Welcome back, ladies," she drawled, her gaze momentarily turning to acknowledge Glinda. "We're so happy to see you."
"That's right, that's right." If the Wizard was aware of the tension Morrible's entrance had added to the room, his tone didn't give it away. "The girls have been telling me about their progress with the book."
"Excellent. I'll look forward to testing you both thoroughly tomorrow." Her back to the Wizard, Madame Morrible's expression had shifted to one of deep concentration, as if she were trying to divine something merely by staring at Glinda and Elphaba - mostly Elphaba. Suddenly a wave of something washed over Glinda - the closest name she could put to it was revulsion, but it was a peculiarly sexual revulsion - not the fear she had felt when those unfamiliar boys had been holding her captive, but the feeling of standing too close to a leering man who was unattractive to the point of disgust. Glancing at Elphaba, she saw that her friend's color was heightened again; only a split second later, Elphaba released Glinda's hand emphatically and took a step away from her. The rejection would have stung more but for Elphaba's quick look of confusion mixed with reassurance - I don't know what's happening, but it will be all right - sent her way.
Morrible's eyes narrowed and she seemed dissatisfied with what she saw, but she gave no indication of what it all meant. "Well," she said finally, "Miss Elphaba. Miss Glinda. I suppose it's time to send you off to bed. I'll be seeing you bright and early in the morning." She focused one last time on Elphaba. "Bring the Grimmerie. I don't suppose you left it in your dormitory."
"No, I didn't," Elphaba replied. Her voice was shaky, and Glinda wondered whether she too had felt that - something that had come over her, and whether it had affected Elphaba more strongly.
"Excellent," Madame Morrible purred. "Then you may go, ladies. Do have a pleasant evening."
Elphaba stood frozen until the Wizard had also nodded that they were dismissed, and turned his back to return to his hiding place. Then Elphaba whirled around like a sudden cyclone, gripped Glinda's hand, and practically dragged her the length of the room and back into the hallway.
"Did you -" Glinda started to ask, but Elphaba cut her off.
"Not here," she hissed, pulling Glinda through the maze of corridors back to the entrance of the Palace.
"What difference does it make if they're likely to be spying on our room anyway?" Glinda asked rhetorically. She knew of course that Elphaba was right, but she was also feeling slightly cross, and entitled to her crossness, because Elphaba was beginning to hurt her shoulder with all this tugging.
When they were outside, in the less than half a block they had to walk before they reached their hotel again, Glinda whispered, "Did you feel that?"
"In there, with Morrible? Yes." Elphaba was speaking in crisp, curt syllables, a sure sign that she was about to get either angry or terribly depressed.
"What was it?"
"A spell."
"Well, obviously." She pulled back on Elphaba's hand, trying to slow her down. "But what was the point of it?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure it worked." Elphaba relented and stopped walking altogether, turning to face Glinda in the middle of the sidewalk. "Listen, Glinda - I should explain -" She paused and rubbed a hand over her face. "No, never mind. Let's go." She started walking again, and Glinda had to scurry to catch up.
"Explain what, Elphie?"
"Nothing, I just - I think -" Elphaba slowed down just enough to allow Glinda to match her stride comfortably. "I think she was trying to . . . manipulate us in some way, and I don't think it worked the way she wanted it to. That's all."
"Oh." Glinda pondered that as they entered the hotel and crossed the emerald-and-marble lobby toward the stairs. "I'm glad, then, because I can't imagine why she would have wanted to make me feel like that."
"If you felt the same as I did, I agree with you." Elphaba drew from her pocket the elaborate iron key they had been given for their room. "That's why I think it didn't work. But what she was trying to do . . ."
Not only did Elphaba not finish her sentence; she didn't speak again at all until she was settled in bed and Glinda had crawled in beside her. They lay for a while side by side in the large, admittedly comfortable bed - Glinda couldn't complain about the luxury of the hotel, at any rate - while Glinda tried to put her finger on exactly how she had felt in the throne room, and what it had to do with Morrible, and how it was connected to the way she had felt when Elphaba had moved so abruptly away from her . . . but it was all growing slightly foggy in her mind, images mixing together in a strange haze. In the end she turned on her side and slid closer to Elphaba, tangling their fingers together under the sheets and resting her head near Elphaba's shoulder. "Anyway, we're still alive and one day down," she whispered. "'Night, Elphie."
"Goodnight," Elphaba finally whispered in response. Her head on the pillow didn't turn, but Glinda felt the answering clasp of her fingers.
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG-13
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Glinda and Elphaba are off to see the Wizard - again.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Previous section and links to all previous sections can be found here.
~~Elphaba~~
By the time Elphaba reached the room she shared with Glinda that night, her heart was pounding and she felt as though her face must be on fire. It was all too much: another professor rummaging in (maybe) Doctor Dillamond's bombed-out rooms, yet another professor almost certainly spying for the Wizard - but spying on whom? - and Fiyero . . . just Fiyero. Not to mention the prospect of returning to the Emerald City, and to the Wizard and Morrible's clutches, in barely a week's time. Last time she had managed to be brave long enough to keep herself and Glinda safe - for the time being - but the trip had ended with her in a near-catatonic state and Glinda needing to fend for both of them. And she was still faced with the decision of whether, or when, to tell Glinda the whole truth about her last conversation with the Wizard.
When she opened the door to their room, Glinda was settled comfortably on the floor in front of the fireplace, with the light dancing across her face and setting her hair aglow. She looked up when Elphaba entered, but her face was still set in a frown of confusion that had presumably been directed at the sorcery text that lay before her on the floor. Her hair hung straight and surprisingly unadorned over her shoulders, and pale fingers twisted a quill with studied concentration. She was so lovely, and she was trying so hard, and Elphaba's mind was still so riddled with confusion and doubt and truly awkward thoughts that she would have preferred to forget entirely, that she simply dropped straight to the floor and threw her arms tightly around Glinda.
Glinda returned the embrace immediately, murmuring without real complaint, "You're so cold, Elphie." But she pulled back after a moment and asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No. Yes." Elphaba settled back on her heels and slipped her cloak from her shoulders. There was at least one part of the evening's events that she could and should share with Glinda, anyway. "I saw -" No; honesty (as far as possible, anyway) was likely to avoid trouble later. "Fiyero walked me back from the library, and we saw someone trying to break in to one of the old Animal faculty apartments. He said it was his political science professor." She looked at Glinda carefully, but her friend seemed to have had little reaction to the mention of Fiyero. "I think there are more spies among the faculty - more than just Morrible, I mean."
Glinda closed her book slowly, using the quill to mark her place. "I suppose we could have predicted that, especially with Morrible gone. We've never really settled whether Madame Greyling is likely to be on their side."
"I know. It's just . . . it's worse, somehow, thinking that we can't trust anyone even here."
Elphaba had shivered as she spoke, and Glinda reached for a blanket and tucked it around her shoulders. "Here, it's cold to be out so late," she said. "So Fiyero was at the library again? I wondered."
"I think his project is finished now," Elphaba said. She knew she should stop talking, but the words kept coming at a pace she knew must have sounded nervous. "I saw him as he was leaving and he insisted on walking back with me, because it was so late. That's when we saw Professor Roka and he recognized her; I wouldn't have."
"That was nice of him," Glinda said mildly. "To walk you back I mean, not the recognizing his professor. Although no doubt that's the part you appreciated, if I know you at all."
"No doubt," Elphaba echoed.
Glinda leaned over and patted her hand. "Maybe you should go to bed, Elphie. You're not looking so well."
Elphaba was tempted to take the escape offered, but she shook her head and said, "No, I can stay up and help you study. I could use some more work myself." Glinda reopened her sorcery text with a pleased sort of noise, and Elphaba forced herself to forget about Animals and Fiyero and everything else for long enough to help her master a fire spell. It had become one of the great ironies of their academic lives that Glinda could set things on fire only when she was trying to do something else.
By the time they had to leave for the Emerald City Glinda had learned to create fire without using her wand (in this particular situation, using it actually seemed to make matters worse) and had only burned one of her hands - the left - and that not too badly. The night before their departure they stayed up late practicing spells, mostly because neither of them could face the idea of sleep until they had thoroughly exhausted themselves. Elphaba knew, as well, that Glinda's injured hand was bothering her. She also didn't need the overwhelming sense of deja vu to know that neither of those things was the reason for Glinda's pallor and her tense silence. Their train was about to leave, and Fiyero wasn't there.
Elphaba of course had no intention of mentioning either his absence or Glinda's reaction to it. Instead she did a very Glinda thing: she sank down onto a bench and buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said immediately, and predictably, picking her way over and around their luggage to sit beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Are you getting nervous again?" Glinda sounded almost as grateful for the distraction as Elphaba was to have provided it.
Elphaba's anxiety was of course not entirely feigned, and she leaned her head momentarily on Glinda's shoulder with real appreciation for the comfort she offered. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sure it will be fine."
A hand, heavier than Glinda's, descended on her shoulder as she spoke and she twisted around to see Fiyero standing over them, his other hand on Glinda's shoulder. "I'm glad I caught you," he said.
Glinda shrugged off his hand and stood, primly smoothing the front of her dress. "In another minute we would have left," she said quietly.
"Then it's a good thing I didn't miss you," Fiyero replied, his expression not quite matching the studied casual tone. "I wanted to make sure I said good luck, to both of you."
To Elphaba's mind "both of you" was a misstep, and certainly it didn't seem to melt any of the ice in Glinda's eyes. Suddenly being on a train to the Emerald City didn't seem like such an awful idea. Elphaba patted Fiyero's elbow awkwardly and said, "Thanks very much. Glinda, I'll just go and get us a compartment." She picked up her suitcase and escaped hurriedly in the direction of the train - then, too slow, remembered Glinda's sore hand and her two suitcases. She dashed back to the bench, where Glinda and Fiyero were still facing off in a rather stony silence. Elphaba whispered, "Excuse me," grabbed the larger of Glinda's suitcases in her free hand, and bolted back to the relative safety of the train.
Glinda joined her as the conductor was beginning to hurry the last passengers onto the train, sliding into their compartment and dropping her suitcase onto the empty bench. She sank down onto her seat and leaned her head on Elphaba's shoulder, asking miserably, "Did you see?"
If Glinda was asking her opinion, the time to pretend everything was all right had passed. Elphaba took Glinda's hand in hers and said, "Things seemed a little tense."
"It's more than tense. Tense would be a relief." Glinda turned her face into Elphaba's shoulder, poking it halfheartedly with one finger. "Bony."
"Can't help that."
"I know." Glinda shifted until she had found a more comfortable position. "I just don't know what to do, Elphie. It's - one minute everything's fine, and the next minute it's like he can't get away from me fast enough, and I just wonder . . ."
"What?" Elphaba asked after waiting in vain for Glinda to continue. Beneath them the train's wheels began to clack their way toward the Emerald City.
"If he's just pretending, all those times he seems to want to be with me. Sometimes he just doesn't seem to feel anything at all - we're so perfect for each other, but what if that isn't enough?"
"I don't know," Elphaba replied. "I wish I did."
"We're moving," Glinda commented unnecessarily, turning her head to watch the trees begin to roll by. Her hand tightened in Elphaba's, and she added, "I didn't mean to forget all about you. Still nervous?"
"Yes. You?"
"Yes." She sighed. "At least fussing with Fiyero got me on the train."
"So here we go again."
"Off to see the Wizard."
"And Morrible. And the Palace guards." Elphaba knew her tone had betrayed her, and she was right.
"They must frighten you," Glinda said, stroking her thumb over Elphaba's hand.
"They do."
Glinda turned so that she could put both arms around Elphaba, and pressed a hard kiss to her temple. "I'm here," she said softly.
"I'm glad," Elphaba replied when she felt capable of speaking.
~~Glinda~~
The streets and streets of green made little impression on her this time - possibly because she was busy worrying about the very unhealthy shade of green Elphaba had turned as they were pulling into the Emerald City station, or possibly because she was distracted by the squadron of guards sent to escort them to their hotel. They had come with a carriage for the girls, and without the large weapons carried by the guards inside the Palace; but their presence was disturbing enough regardless, and Glinda spent most of the trip to the hotel trying to swallow her own fear and keep Elphaba from fainting - an eventuality that seemed more and more likely the longer they were in the presence of the guards.
This time their hotel room provided little relief from the general verdigris of the City (although it did, fortunately, provide significant relief from the guards, who left them at the door). The furnishings were just as green as everything else with the exception of the bath, which was a refreshing shade of creamy marble. "I'm already thinking of just moving into the bathroom," Glinda joked weakly as she and Elphaba pulled their suitcases into the room.
"I think that sounds like a very sensible idea." Elphaba both looked and sounded wan, but some of the color - a color which, incidentally, matched the stripes on the wallpaper - was returning to her face.
"Just one bed again," Glinda mused, running her hands over the duvet. "Not that it matters, it's giant enough. Odd though." Strangely, Elphaba now seemed to have rather too much color. "Elphie? Something wrong?"
"No," Elphaba said quickly, in a way that strongly suggested she was lying. "How's your hand?"
"A little sore still." It throbbed, actually, but she saw no need to worry Elphaba. "I'll put some of that salve on it later. How long until we have to be at the Palace?"
"Not long." Their instructions had been delivered by the guards on a sickly-green scroll, which Elphaba still had clutched in her hands. "Are you hungry?"
"Not in the least."
"Me either." She sat down on the bed, finally setting the scroll down beside her.
"Feeling brave?" Glinda asked, pausing midway through opening her suitcase to hang up her clothes.
"The truth?" Elphaba looked up at her with her brow furrowed. "Not really."
Brave or not, they arrived at the doors to the Palace at the appointed time, holding tightly to each other's hands. The guard at the gate took one look at the scroll they carried - and, more likely, at Elphaba's easily recognizable face - and summoned a superior who escorted them at a punishing pace to the Wizard's throne room. This time when they entered there was no fanfare, no proclamations or questions booming from the giant golden head suspended over the throne. Today it hung motionless, and all was silent until the door had closed behind the two girls. Then the Wizard himself dared to emerge from behind his throne, looking just as Glinda remembered him in his neat suit and small spectacles. She held tighter to Elphaba's hand with both of her own.
"Well, girls!" The Wizard's tone was friendly, but Glinda knew better than to trust his temper. She had seen it turn quickly enough. "I hope your trip was pleasant."
Elphaba seemed disinclined, or perhaps unable, to answer, and the Wizard's eyes were flickering between them expectantly, so Glinda finally murmured, "Yes, thank you, your Ozness." In the cavernous throne room her words seemed to disappear into the air as soon as she had uttered them, but the Wizard appeared to be satisfied.
"I'm sure you're curious about your time here," he continued, "but there's nothing to be nervous about. You'll remember that your old headmistress is here - she's eager to see how far you've progressed in your sorcery studies with your new teacher. Elphaba," he said, turning his attention to her in a way that truly did seem a little bit fond, "have you made any progress with the book?"
Elphaba didn't react physically, and when she spoke her voice was even. Of course, they had predicted that the Wizard must know she had the Grimmerie. "A bit," she said.
"And Glinda?" The Wizard was asking Elphaba still, not Glinda herself. "Any progress, under your guidance?"
Now Elphaba did react with a tensing of all her muscles, which Glinda didn't understand. "Yes, some," she replied, still keeping her voice under tight control.
The Wizard clapped his hands together. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear you're still working so well as a team, eh? Madame Morrible will be delighted. Let me just call her." He disappeared behind the giant throne for a moment, still talking to them as he pitched his voice loud enough to be heard. "We'll have you back to your hotel in no time tonight, ladies. Just wanted to make sure you arrived as scheduled and with no difficulties - of course, Madame will want to decide how early she'd like to see you tomorrow." With a barely audible creak a door opened somewhere at the back of the room, and the Wizard exclaimed, "Ah, Madame Morrible."
Their old headmistress slid into the room with the suavity of a lizard, her eyes trained hard on Elphaba. "Welcome back, ladies," she drawled, her gaze momentarily turning to acknowledge Glinda. "We're so happy to see you."
"That's right, that's right." If the Wizard was aware of the tension Morrible's entrance had added to the room, his tone didn't give it away. "The girls have been telling me about their progress with the book."
"Excellent. I'll look forward to testing you both thoroughly tomorrow." Her back to the Wizard, Madame Morrible's expression had shifted to one of deep concentration, as if she were trying to divine something merely by staring at Glinda and Elphaba - mostly Elphaba. Suddenly a wave of something washed over Glinda - the closest name she could put to it was revulsion, but it was a peculiarly sexual revulsion - not the fear she had felt when those unfamiliar boys had been holding her captive, but the feeling of standing too close to a leering man who was unattractive to the point of disgust. Glancing at Elphaba, she saw that her friend's color was heightened again; only a split second later, Elphaba released Glinda's hand emphatically and took a step away from her. The rejection would have stung more but for Elphaba's quick look of confusion mixed with reassurance - I don't know what's happening, but it will be all right - sent her way.
Morrible's eyes narrowed and she seemed dissatisfied with what she saw, but she gave no indication of what it all meant. "Well," she said finally, "Miss Elphaba. Miss Glinda. I suppose it's time to send you off to bed. I'll be seeing you bright and early in the morning." She focused one last time on Elphaba. "Bring the Grimmerie. I don't suppose you left it in your dormitory."
"No, I didn't," Elphaba replied. Her voice was shaky, and Glinda wondered whether she too had felt that - something that had come over her, and whether it had affected Elphaba more strongly.
"Excellent," Madame Morrible purred. "Then you may go, ladies. Do have a pleasant evening."
Elphaba stood frozen until the Wizard had also nodded that they were dismissed, and turned his back to return to his hiding place. Then Elphaba whirled around like a sudden cyclone, gripped Glinda's hand, and practically dragged her the length of the room and back into the hallway.
"Did you -" Glinda started to ask, but Elphaba cut her off.
"Not here," she hissed, pulling Glinda through the maze of corridors back to the entrance of the Palace.
"What difference does it make if they're likely to be spying on our room anyway?" Glinda asked rhetorically. She knew of course that Elphaba was right, but she was also feeling slightly cross, and entitled to her crossness, because Elphaba was beginning to hurt her shoulder with all this tugging.
When they were outside, in the less than half a block they had to walk before they reached their hotel again, Glinda whispered, "Did you feel that?"
"In there, with Morrible? Yes." Elphaba was speaking in crisp, curt syllables, a sure sign that she was about to get either angry or terribly depressed.
"What was it?"
"A spell."
"Well, obviously." She pulled back on Elphaba's hand, trying to slow her down. "But what was the point of it?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure it worked." Elphaba relented and stopped walking altogether, turning to face Glinda in the middle of the sidewalk. "Listen, Glinda - I should explain -" She paused and rubbed a hand over her face. "No, never mind. Let's go." She started walking again, and Glinda had to scurry to catch up.
"Explain what, Elphie?"
"Nothing, I just - I think -" Elphaba slowed down just enough to allow Glinda to match her stride comfortably. "I think she was trying to . . . manipulate us in some way, and I don't think it worked the way she wanted it to. That's all."
"Oh." Glinda pondered that as they entered the hotel and crossed the emerald-and-marble lobby toward the stairs. "I'm glad, then, because I can't imagine why she would have wanted to make me feel like that."
"If you felt the same as I did, I agree with you." Elphaba drew from her pocket the elaborate iron key they had been given for their room. "That's why I think it didn't work. But what she was trying to do . . ."
Not only did Elphaba not finish her sentence; she didn't speak again at all until she was settled in bed and Glinda had crawled in beside her. They lay for a while side by side in the large, admittedly comfortable bed - Glinda couldn't complain about the luxury of the hotel, at any rate - while Glinda tried to put her finger on exactly how she had felt in the throne room, and what it had to do with Morrible, and how it was connected to the way she had felt when Elphaba had moved so abruptly away from her . . . but it was all growing slightly foggy in her mind, images mixing together in a strange haze. In the end she turned on her side and slid closer to Elphaba, tangling their fingers together under the sheets and resting her head near Elphaba's shoulder. "Anyway, we're still alive and one day down," she whispered. "'Night, Elphie."
"Goodnight," Elphaba finally whispered in response. Her head on the pillow didn't turn, but Glinda felt the answering clasp of her fingers.