The Way to Remorse by sir_snarksalot
Title: The Way to Remorse
Fandom: Wicked
Genre: Bookverse
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Gregory Maguire has all the rights to the characters.
Author's Notes: Inspired by a comment I made to lfae's Happily Ever After. Go read it if you haven't!
Wordcount: 828
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"Glinda, I may have loved you, but you're a fool."
The half-remembered sound of that voice sent a chill up Glinda's spine. Her shoulders stiffened and she swallowed heavily. She'd been alone in the house for days and while half of her was insisting that the biting tones behind her were familiar, the other half was just as loudly proclaiming that such a thing was impossible and that for no reason should she turn around.
She studied her hands intently, noting the fine lines and age spots that were just beginning to darken the pale complexion. "Is this what happens when you're close to death? You're haunted by your worst memories?"
"I see you haven't lost your flair for the dramatic."
"I've lost all my patience. I'd prefer if we could get this over with as soon as possible."
"Get what over with, my sweet? What is it you think I'm here to do?"
The mocking tone was more than Glinda could take and she turned her head sharply to look over her shoulder. "I thought ghosts were supposed to be pale caricatures. You're as verdant as ever."
Elphaba threw back her head and cackled loudly. "I have missed your wit, dear one."
"I'm tired, Elphaba. And you're dead." She stood and turned so she was face to face with the apparition. "I thought you didn't believe in an afterlife. Why are you haunting me?"
"Who said anything about haunting? I'm dead and gone, Glinda. You know that."
"I think that if I were truly conjuring spirits I could certainly find a better one than you."
Elphaba glided easily across the room to stand by the fireplace. "Come on, sit down. It might be a long night. I have some things that need to be said."
Glinda sat stiffly, allowing every one of her mother's lessons in etiquette return to the fore. Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders perfectly square and her feel crossed delicately at the ankles.
"You've been so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you've never allowed yourself to be happy."
"Happy?" Glinda's voice was sharp with unaccustomed bitterness. "My husband is dead. My friends are dead. I'm a prisoner in my own home thanks to your brother. And you're last one I'd expect to be lecturing me about happiness!"
"Irony and hyperbole. I'm impressed. Your husband and friends haven't always been dead and you choose to stay here as a prisoner. What is Shell going to do, shoot you?"
"I have never chosen anything in my life, save for the mundane choices of the everyday-what to wear, what to eat, who to see. Everything else has been chosen for me."
"You chose to go to the Emerald City with me."
Glinda had to clench both hands to keep them from shaking. When she spoke, it was with pure fury. "No, you chose to take me to the Emerald City with you. Just like you chose to leave me! You didn't give me a chance to make a choice! You treated me just like everyone else, assuming you knew what was best for me."
"And you would have stayed with me, of course." Glinda noted that Elphaba's sarcastic wit was as sharp as ever.
"It doesn't matter what I would have chosen," she said. "It would have been my choice."
"Then choose something now. The past is the past, my sweet. Set in stone, it can't be changed."
"You're also the last one I'd expect to lecture me about regrets."
Elphaba shrugged. "Call it a lesson from one who's lived to tell the tale. Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"There are far too many things wrong with that statement," she replied. Then she shook her head. "I'm too old to choose now, Elphaba."
"You're only as old as you feel."
"Pithy clichés? Really, I expected better of you."
Elphaba stood silently, watching, and the weight of her stare made Glinda acutely aware of her own anxiety. When she spoke, the words rushed out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. "What do you want to hear? That I'm ashamed of my life-of the things I've done?"
She leveled an accusing glare at Elphaba. "Well, what do you expect? You're the only one who ever thought anything of me and when you left...when you left I didn't have the strength to make it by myself."
"What a sham! You just didn't want to be bothered."
"What would you know about it? You weren't there! It was too difficult without you!"
Elphaba said nothing.
Glinda closed her eyes and rubbed her temples to ward off the headache she could feel gathering its strength. "You haunt me for no other reason than to lecture me about my perceived faults. If this is the only reason you've come, I would prefer that you leave."
When she looked again, Elphaba was gone.
"It's too late for me, Elphie. Regrets are the only thing I have left."
x-posted at creatives_anon
Fandom: Wicked
Genre: Bookverse
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Gregory Maguire has all the rights to the characters.
Author's Notes: Inspired by a comment I made to lfae's Happily Ever After. Go read it if you haven't!
Wordcount: 828
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Glinda, I may have loved you, but you're a fool."
The half-remembered sound of that voice sent a chill up Glinda's spine. Her shoulders stiffened and she swallowed heavily. She'd been alone in the house for days and while half of her was insisting that the biting tones behind her were familiar, the other half was just as loudly proclaiming that such a thing was impossible and that for no reason should she turn around.
She studied her hands intently, noting the fine lines and age spots that were just beginning to darken the pale complexion. "Is this what happens when you're close to death? You're haunted by your worst memories?"
"I see you haven't lost your flair for the dramatic."
"I've lost all my patience. I'd prefer if we could get this over with as soon as possible."
"Get what over with, my sweet? What is it you think I'm here to do?"
The mocking tone was more than Glinda could take and she turned her head sharply to look over her shoulder. "I thought ghosts were supposed to be pale caricatures. You're as verdant as ever."
Elphaba threw back her head and cackled loudly. "I have missed your wit, dear one."
"I'm tired, Elphaba. And you're dead." She stood and turned so she was face to face with the apparition. "I thought you didn't believe in an afterlife. Why are you haunting me?"
"Who said anything about haunting? I'm dead and gone, Glinda. You know that."
"I think that if I were truly conjuring spirits I could certainly find a better one than you."
Elphaba glided easily across the room to stand by the fireplace. "Come on, sit down. It might be a long night. I have some things that need to be said."
Glinda sat stiffly, allowing every one of her mother's lessons in etiquette return to the fore. Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders perfectly square and her feel crossed delicately at the ankles.
"You've been so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you've never allowed yourself to be happy."
"Happy?" Glinda's voice was sharp with unaccustomed bitterness. "My husband is dead. My friends are dead. I'm a prisoner in my own home thanks to your brother. And you're last one I'd expect to be lecturing me about happiness!"
"Irony and hyperbole. I'm impressed. Your husband and friends haven't always been dead and you choose to stay here as a prisoner. What is Shell going to do, shoot you?"
"I have never chosen anything in my life, save for the mundane choices of the everyday-what to wear, what to eat, who to see. Everything else has been chosen for me."
"You chose to go to the Emerald City with me."
Glinda had to clench both hands to keep them from shaking. When she spoke, it was with pure fury. "No, you chose to take me to the Emerald City with you. Just like you chose to leave me! You didn't give me a chance to make a choice! You treated me just like everyone else, assuming you knew what was best for me."
"And you would have stayed with me, of course." Glinda noted that Elphaba's sarcastic wit was as sharp as ever.
"It doesn't matter what I would have chosen," she said. "It would have been my choice."
"Then choose something now. The past is the past, my sweet. Set in stone, it can't be changed."
"You're also the last one I'd expect to lecture me about regrets."
Elphaba shrugged. "Call it a lesson from one who's lived to tell the tale. Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"There are far too many things wrong with that statement," she replied. Then she shook her head. "I'm too old to choose now, Elphaba."
"You're only as old as you feel."
"Pithy clichés? Really, I expected better of you."
Elphaba stood silently, watching, and the weight of her stare made Glinda acutely aware of her own anxiety. When she spoke, the words rushed out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. "What do you want to hear? That I'm ashamed of my life-of the things I've done?"
She leveled an accusing glare at Elphaba. "Well, what do you expect? You're the only one who ever thought anything of me and when you left...when you left I didn't have the strength to make it by myself."
"What a sham! You just didn't want to be bothered."
"What would you know about it? You weren't there! It was too difficult without you!"
Elphaba said nothing.
Glinda closed her eyes and rubbed her temples to ward off the headache she could feel gathering its strength. "You haunt me for no other reason than to lecture me about my perceived faults. If this is the only reason you've come, I would prefer that you leave."
When she looked again, Elphaba was gone.
"It's too late for me, Elphie. Regrets are the only thing I have left."
x-posted at creatives_anon