Defying Gravity 9/?, by ainsleyaisling
Title: Defying Gravity, 9/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: R
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Summary: Glinda and Elphaba - and Fiyero - working hand-in-hand, the way it was supposed to be . . . maybe . . .
This chapter: Glinda is recruited for a mission.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Sequel to "The Effects of Gravity," a link to all chapters of which can be found here. The previous chapter of this story can be found here.
~~Glinda~~
"Glinda! Just the person I was wanting to see."
Glinda stopped walking at the first sound of the unnaturally sugar-sweet voice, her last step echoing loud and empty on the marble floor of the hallway. They were barely steps from the door; she looked at it longingly before finally turning to face just about her least favorite person in Oz. Elphaba's hand tightened its grip on hers as she did. "Madame Morrible," she said, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Hello, girls." The words seemed to ooze as Morrible came closer. Her wide unblinking eyes swept over Elphaba dismissively. "Elphaba."
Elphaba's fingers squeezed Glinda's again. "Good evening, Madame," she said calmly.
"Were you on your way out?"
"Yes," Glinda said brightly. "We were going to meet - some old school friends." She changed her mind at the last minute about mentioning Fiyero; something told her to keep him out of the forefront of Morrible's mind. It was probably best if she forgot how connected they still were.
"Well, perhaps Elphaba wouldn't mind going on her own? I'm afraid I need your assistance this evening - though don't worry, dearie, I think you'll find it pleasant enough."
Glinda looked quickly to Elphaba, who gave her a tiny shrug in return. "What is it, Madame?" Glinda asked.
"Nothing too complicated, Glinda dear, just a meeting I must attend with some rather important people, and I could use your help - your special skills, you know."
Glinda wasn't aware that she had any relevant special skills, that might be of use to anyone in the political realm. The hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to stand on end. "My - skills?"
"Unless Elphaba minds . . ." The last word was drawn out, practically crooned. Morrible turned her eyes back to Elphaba as if she had just performed an experiment and was terribly curious to see what would happen.
Elphaba looked to Glinda, and Glinda understood that if she showed any sign of panic, Elphaba would try to get her out of it. Or come with her. But she also understood that if Morrible wanted her in a meeting with "important" people, something interesting was likely to be going on. Probably something they should know about. And though she was beginning to have a disturbing guess of what her "special skills" might be, she also knew that, in a way, Morrible wasn't wrong. She gave Elphaba a very small nod.
Elphaba shrugged at Morrible. "I'll go and meet - our friends on my own."
Morrible's smile was enormous, but her eyes were steel. "Good girl."
Glinda tugged at the hand she was still holding, until Elphaba turned to her. "I have to go use my skills now," she said.
She must have succeeded in looking unafraid, because Elphaba almost laughed at her declaration. "Good luck," she said, pressing her lips firmly together as soon as she had finished speaking.
Elphaba was about to turn and go. Conscious of Morrible's eyes on them, Glinda pulled at her hand again, refusing to release it, and said, with a hint of petulance in her tone, "Elphie."
Elphaba blinked for a moment, then raised her eyebrows and said, "Oh." Although her face didn't change and her head didn't move, her eyes darted hastily in Morrible's direction. "Sorry," she said. Jerkily, she bent and pressed a brief, self-conscious kiss to Glinda's lips.
Glinda didn't have to pretend to be pleased, though for Morrible's benefit she closed her eyes and kissed back, just for a second, while holding tight to Elphaba's hand. When they had separated she smiled in a satisfied manner up at Elphaba and said, "Thank you."
Elphaba pressed the back of one hand to her lips, looked to Morrible, and said, "Goodnight, Madame."
"Goodnight, Elphaba." Morrible's tone was clearly a dismissal. Elphaba shot one last, rather apologetic look at Glinda and made for the door. Morrible turned her feigned, predatory smile on Glinda again and said, "Shall we, my dear? The delegation is waiting for us."
When Morrible wanted to, she could move very quickly. Glinda was forced into large strides with occasional little skipping steps to keep up as they took off down the hallway. "What delegation is that, Madame?" she asked while striving to keep close enough to the older woman to get a look at her expression.
It was tight and strained, which Glinda took as a bad sign. "Representatives of the Quadling government," Morrible replied. "Military authorities mostly, whom the Wizard is very anxious to impress."
Now Glinda knew for certain that something was wrong. No one tried to impress Quadlings. They were universally scorned as the lowliest of the races - somewhat unfairly, since until recent years their territory had been no less accessible and their customs no odder than those of the Winkies. Even more so because the current distinction between Quadling Country and the Vinkus was due not to the Quadlings becoming any less civilized, but merely to the rulers of the Vinkus becoming more integrated into the rest of Ozian society.
Nevertheless, her years at Shiz had been enough to convince Glinda that notions of fairness were largely absent from opinions on the differences between the races. The Quadlings looked different, they talked different, they had very different ideas about marriage and family and moral behavior, and worst of all, their land was poor and they were poor. Aside from their mining there was little the rest of Oz wanted from them, and there was no reason Glinda could think of why the Wizard should care to impress them. He'd already placed a Gillikinese puppet Governor over them; he could simply make them do anything he wanted, at any time.
Glinda smiled up at Morrible, as much as she could while jogging jerkily along. "They must be very important, then," she said innocently.
The condescending nature of Morrible's smile only reinforced her certainty that the older woman was up to something. "Indeed, they are," she drawled. "You just keep that in mind."
Glinda nodded, and made her smile even brighter. Elphaba would have been able to tell that it was false; Morrible didn't seem to be bothered.
When Morrible pushed open the double doors to one of the Wizard's smaller libraries, a small crowd of men arranged around the library table jumped immediately to their feet. Glinda wandered in slowly behind her former headmistress, feeling the eyes of many of the men peering around and past Morrible's bulky finery to seek her out. She smiled weakly as the doors shut behind her.
The men around the table were nearly all actual Quadlings, which seemed unusual if they were supposed to represent the high-ups of the military establishment. Unsurprisingly, the two with the most medals and ribbons and things on their jackets were obviously Gillikinese, tall and fair-haired. The one with the reddish beard nodded to Glinda and out of reflex she found herself nodding back. Both appeared to look with some contempt on their Quadling fellows, who were all as dark and ruddy-skinned as most of their race. Feeling ashamed of herself precisely because she did know better, Glinda belatedly nodded her head at each of them as well.
"Gentlemen," Morrible said as she strode toward the table. "I thank you very much for taking the time during your visit to the Emerald City to meet with us."
The older of the Gillikinese officers offered her a deep bow. "It is good to be home," he said.
Morrible pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down in it, which seemed to be the cue for the men to return to their seats. The red-bearded officer glanced uncomfortably at Glinda, who was standing behind Morrible's chair, but eventually sat down as well. Morrible turned the full force of her smile on the two Gillikinese men and said, "Yes, I am certain you would both appreciate an opportunity to return to the Emerald City once you have . . . accomplished your purpose, in your current posting."
"If you're offering," the older of the two said, "let us go on the record as saying the South definitely does not agree with us."
"Really," Morrible said with poorly feigned sympathy.
The man nodded, leaning forward across the table. "I hope the Wizard knows I would do anything to return to the Emerald City."
"I'm sure he does," Morrible said, smiling. "Yes, I am certain that he does know that. But I appreciate your enthusiasm." Turning to the Quadling officer seated nearest her she said, "And you have all decided, very wisely, to come and find out how you can possibly do the most to aid your people?"
The man nodded and said, in the strangely broken and yet rolling accents of the Far South, "We are all aware of how the Wizard's policies have affected our country in the past. We are eager to hear how we may influence the destiny of our peoples, for the future." Glinda thought there might have been a minuscule pause before the word "influence," but it was well-covered - the man might have taken lessons from Elphaba.
Morrible inclined her head toward him and said, "Well, that's why we're here. To find out how you can take your destiny into your own hands, and what rewards might await you for assisting with some minor little issues." As if she had just remembered her, Morrible looked over her shoulder and motioned for Glinda to step closer to the table. Glinda came to stand beside Morrible's chair and Morrible added, "Of course you all know of one of the most recent additions to the Palace - this is Glinda Upland - a Witch, you know. And of course a fine Gillikinese girl."
The choice of the word "witch" was deliberate and had an instant effect on the Quadlings, who lived close to nature and were wary of sorcery. The two men from Gillikin barely blinked, although the younger said, "I thought I had heard she was a Munchkinlander." At the last minute he sent an apologetic look at Glinda, as if he had just realized it was rude to speak about her in her presence.
Morrible shook her head. "No, the other one is a Munchkinlander - a tall Munchkinlander, you know. Though her height isn't quite the first thing you'd notice." She laughed humorlessly, and the older Gillikinese officer joined her.
"Of course we know of Miss Upland," he said, looking at Glinda. "She made quite an impression on our Governor."
"Did she?" Morrible asked, craning to look up at Glinda. "How nice."
Glinda suddenly wondered whether she was supposed to consult with Morrible, or the Wizard, before rejecting potentially politically advantageous marriage proposals. She hoped not.
Fortunately, Morrible didn't ask questions. She merely gestured to the other open chair, at the opposite end of the table from herself. "Glinda, dear, do go and have a seat. We all have a great deal to discuss."
Glinda walked slowly to the available chair, feeling all eyes on her. Both Gillikinese officers continued to watch her even after she had sat down, even though Madame Morrible had begun talking again about increasing recruitment of native troops for the Quadling militia. Skills, Glinda thought as the older officer rearranged the papers on the table in front of him as an excuse to lean closer to the neckline of her dress. That's one word for it, I suppose.
~~Elphaba~~
Fiyero looked slightly alarmed when she came into the pub alone. "Is something wrong with Glinda?" he asked, rising from his chair.
"Not exactly." Elphaba hesitated, then lowered the hood that had shielded her from curious gazes on the way to the slightly less savory district favored by off-duty Guards. "Morrible wanted her for something."
Fiyero wasn't privy to most of their information about Morrible, so although he didn't favor her much, this news didn't seem to worry him. He merely said, "Oh," and then shepherded Elphaba into the chair facing the corner at his small table. A few heads had turned when green fingers had appeared to shift the hood and reveal the rest of her, but the crowd was a mix of half-drunk Guards and citizens who probably preferred to avoid the notice of the Palace, and most of them had quickly gone about their own business.
"So," Elphaba asked quietly as Fiyero slipped around the table and sat down facing her, "is he here?"
"I haven't seen him yet." Fiyero glanced up to nod at a barkeep who was bending down to place a mug of ale in front of Elphaba. When she frowned, Fiyero said, "Do you want to look suspicious?"
"No," Elphaba acknowledged. She pulled the heavy, overfilled mug toward herself and took a careful sip without lifting it from the table. "Are any of yours here?"
"Any of my - oh. My men?"
She nodded and bent to sip a bit more ale off the top of her mug.
"A few."
Elphaba twisted to look over her shoulder and caught the eye of a very startled young Guard who instantly turned his back. She turned back to Fiyero and raised an eyebrow. "That one?"
"Mine," he admitted with a shrug. "He's brave enough most of the time."
"I have been known to strike fear into the hearts of the hardiest men in Oz," she said.
He waved both hands, fingers crooked, over the table. "That's because you can knock them senseless with a mere thought."
"And yet I don't scare you."
His nose crinkled just slightly. "Not really, no."
"Too bad." She managed to fight the sudden urge to smile, although the look on his face was making it difficult.
"Have you been trying to scare me, all these years?" he asked with the hint of a grin, leaning way back in his chair.
"I don't try to scare anyone." He pointedly cleared his throat, and she added, "Much."
Fiyero laughed, then lifted his chin and nodded over her shoulder. "He's fascinated."
"Who is?" she asked without looking.
"That soldier of mine." He took a sip of his ale, still looking amused.
Elphaba sighed. "Making sure I don't suddenly decide to hex him to pieces, I suppose. You know, I don't know why more of them aren't frightened of Glinda. Anyone as pretty as she is should be terrifying."
"I imagine they are frightened of her," Fiyero said. "It's lucky for him she's not here; the poor boy would be confused. Completely unable to decide which of you he fears more."
"And you've let them go on thinking I'm dangerous."
"Oh, Elphaba," Fiyero said, bending to sip his ale and looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You are dangerous."
She wanted to glare, but couldn't quite manage it. In the end she gave a little cough and asked, "Any sign of -"
"No." His eyes darted around the dim corners of the pub. "Maybe he's afraid of talking to you directly. It's possible he won't be seen near you."
"Maybe you ought to try coming alone with Glinda instead, next time."
"Possibly. What did Morrible want with her, anyway?"
"She said she had a meeting to attend with some important people, and she wanted Glinda to go with her."
"For what?" Fiyero asked, raising his ale.
"To seduce them, I suppose."
Fiyero gave her a look as he set down the mug again. "Thank you for saying that after I swallowed."
"You're welcome."
"Is that really what you think?"
Elphaba nodded. "Morrible still doesn't think she's good for much else."
"And you're not worried?"
"If I were, do you think I'd be here?"
Fiyero shook his head. "If you were worried, I'd hope I wouldn't be here either. You will - I've been thinking about this, Elphaba, and I don't think you would -" He stopped and shook his head. "I want you to come and get me, or send for me, if you think you're in trouble. Either of you. I'm afraid it wouldn't occur to you to do that."
"You can't always help," Elphaba said softly.
"I know that. But if you can -"
"If it wouldn't get you in trouble," she corrected. "Or give you away."
"I don't care about getting in trouble, if you or Glinda need help. You don't know that by now?"
"You can't help us if you get thrown out," Elphaba reminded him quietly. "But if you can help -"
"Then you promise?"
She sat up straighter in surprise at his vehemence. "Yes," she said. "Then, I promise."
"Good." He glanced at the clocks on the wall. "I think we can go. Come on, you shouldn't walk back alone at this hour."
She glanced around them as she stood and lifted the hood of her cloak. "Will your men think . . ."
"They won't think anything different from what they do already," he said, making her blush. She was grateful for the shadow created by the hood as he took gentle hold of her arm and steered her toward the door.
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: R
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Summary: Glinda and Elphaba - and Fiyero - working hand-in-hand, the way it was supposed to be . . . maybe . . .
This chapter: Glinda is recruited for a mission.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Sequel to "The Effects of Gravity," a link to all chapters of which can be found here. The previous chapter of this story can be found here.
~~Glinda~~
"Glinda! Just the person I was wanting to see."
Glinda stopped walking at the first sound of the unnaturally sugar-sweet voice, her last step echoing loud and empty on the marble floor of the hallway. They were barely steps from the door; she looked at it longingly before finally turning to face just about her least favorite person in Oz. Elphaba's hand tightened its grip on hers as she did. "Madame Morrible," she said, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Hello, girls." The words seemed to ooze as Morrible came closer. Her wide unblinking eyes swept over Elphaba dismissively. "Elphaba."
Elphaba's fingers squeezed Glinda's again. "Good evening, Madame," she said calmly.
"Were you on your way out?"
"Yes," Glinda said brightly. "We were going to meet - some old school friends." She changed her mind at the last minute about mentioning Fiyero; something told her to keep him out of the forefront of Morrible's mind. It was probably best if she forgot how connected they still were.
"Well, perhaps Elphaba wouldn't mind going on her own? I'm afraid I need your assistance this evening - though don't worry, dearie, I think you'll find it pleasant enough."
Glinda looked quickly to Elphaba, who gave her a tiny shrug in return. "What is it, Madame?" Glinda asked.
"Nothing too complicated, Glinda dear, just a meeting I must attend with some rather important people, and I could use your help - your special skills, you know."
Glinda wasn't aware that she had any relevant special skills, that might be of use to anyone in the political realm. The hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to stand on end. "My - skills?"
"Unless Elphaba minds . . ." The last word was drawn out, practically crooned. Morrible turned her eyes back to Elphaba as if she had just performed an experiment and was terribly curious to see what would happen.
Elphaba looked to Glinda, and Glinda understood that if she showed any sign of panic, Elphaba would try to get her out of it. Or come with her. But she also understood that if Morrible wanted her in a meeting with "important" people, something interesting was likely to be going on. Probably something they should know about. And though she was beginning to have a disturbing guess of what her "special skills" might be, she also knew that, in a way, Morrible wasn't wrong. She gave Elphaba a very small nod.
Elphaba shrugged at Morrible. "I'll go and meet - our friends on my own."
Morrible's smile was enormous, but her eyes were steel. "Good girl."
Glinda tugged at the hand she was still holding, until Elphaba turned to her. "I have to go use my skills now," she said.
She must have succeeded in looking unafraid, because Elphaba almost laughed at her declaration. "Good luck," she said, pressing her lips firmly together as soon as she had finished speaking.
Elphaba was about to turn and go. Conscious of Morrible's eyes on them, Glinda pulled at her hand again, refusing to release it, and said, with a hint of petulance in her tone, "Elphie."
Elphaba blinked for a moment, then raised her eyebrows and said, "Oh." Although her face didn't change and her head didn't move, her eyes darted hastily in Morrible's direction. "Sorry," she said. Jerkily, she bent and pressed a brief, self-conscious kiss to Glinda's lips.
Glinda didn't have to pretend to be pleased, though for Morrible's benefit she closed her eyes and kissed back, just for a second, while holding tight to Elphaba's hand. When they had separated she smiled in a satisfied manner up at Elphaba and said, "Thank you."
Elphaba pressed the back of one hand to her lips, looked to Morrible, and said, "Goodnight, Madame."
"Goodnight, Elphaba." Morrible's tone was clearly a dismissal. Elphaba shot one last, rather apologetic look at Glinda and made for the door. Morrible turned her feigned, predatory smile on Glinda again and said, "Shall we, my dear? The delegation is waiting for us."
When Morrible wanted to, she could move very quickly. Glinda was forced into large strides with occasional little skipping steps to keep up as they took off down the hallway. "What delegation is that, Madame?" she asked while striving to keep close enough to the older woman to get a look at her expression.
It was tight and strained, which Glinda took as a bad sign. "Representatives of the Quadling government," Morrible replied. "Military authorities mostly, whom the Wizard is very anxious to impress."
Now Glinda knew for certain that something was wrong. No one tried to impress Quadlings. They were universally scorned as the lowliest of the races - somewhat unfairly, since until recent years their territory had been no less accessible and their customs no odder than those of the Winkies. Even more so because the current distinction between Quadling Country and the Vinkus was due not to the Quadlings becoming any less civilized, but merely to the rulers of the Vinkus becoming more integrated into the rest of Ozian society.
Nevertheless, her years at Shiz had been enough to convince Glinda that notions of fairness were largely absent from opinions on the differences between the races. The Quadlings looked different, they talked different, they had very different ideas about marriage and family and moral behavior, and worst of all, their land was poor and they were poor. Aside from their mining there was little the rest of Oz wanted from them, and there was no reason Glinda could think of why the Wizard should care to impress them. He'd already placed a Gillikinese puppet Governor over them; he could simply make them do anything he wanted, at any time.
Glinda smiled up at Morrible, as much as she could while jogging jerkily along. "They must be very important, then," she said innocently.
The condescending nature of Morrible's smile only reinforced her certainty that the older woman was up to something. "Indeed, they are," she drawled. "You just keep that in mind."
Glinda nodded, and made her smile even brighter. Elphaba would have been able to tell that it was false; Morrible didn't seem to be bothered.
When Morrible pushed open the double doors to one of the Wizard's smaller libraries, a small crowd of men arranged around the library table jumped immediately to their feet. Glinda wandered in slowly behind her former headmistress, feeling the eyes of many of the men peering around and past Morrible's bulky finery to seek her out. She smiled weakly as the doors shut behind her.
The men around the table were nearly all actual Quadlings, which seemed unusual if they were supposed to represent the high-ups of the military establishment. Unsurprisingly, the two with the most medals and ribbons and things on their jackets were obviously Gillikinese, tall and fair-haired. The one with the reddish beard nodded to Glinda and out of reflex she found herself nodding back. Both appeared to look with some contempt on their Quadling fellows, who were all as dark and ruddy-skinned as most of their race. Feeling ashamed of herself precisely because she did know better, Glinda belatedly nodded her head at each of them as well.
"Gentlemen," Morrible said as she strode toward the table. "I thank you very much for taking the time during your visit to the Emerald City to meet with us."
The older of the Gillikinese officers offered her a deep bow. "It is good to be home," he said.
Morrible pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down in it, which seemed to be the cue for the men to return to their seats. The red-bearded officer glanced uncomfortably at Glinda, who was standing behind Morrible's chair, but eventually sat down as well. Morrible turned the full force of her smile on the two Gillikinese men and said, "Yes, I am certain you would both appreciate an opportunity to return to the Emerald City once you have . . . accomplished your purpose, in your current posting."
"If you're offering," the older of the two said, "let us go on the record as saying the South definitely does not agree with us."
"Really," Morrible said with poorly feigned sympathy.
The man nodded, leaning forward across the table. "I hope the Wizard knows I would do anything to return to the Emerald City."
"I'm sure he does," Morrible said, smiling. "Yes, I am certain that he does know that. But I appreciate your enthusiasm." Turning to the Quadling officer seated nearest her she said, "And you have all decided, very wisely, to come and find out how you can possibly do the most to aid your people?"
The man nodded and said, in the strangely broken and yet rolling accents of the Far South, "We are all aware of how the Wizard's policies have affected our country in the past. We are eager to hear how we may influence the destiny of our peoples, for the future." Glinda thought there might have been a minuscule pause before the word "influence," but it was well-covered - the man might have taken lessons from Elphaba.
Morrible inclined her head toward him and said, "Well, that's why we're here. To find out how you can take your destiny into your own hands, and what rewards might await you for assisting with some minor little issues." As if she had just remembered her, Morrible looked over her shoulder and motioned for Glinda to step closer to the table. Glinda came to stand beside Morrible's chair and Morrible added, "Of course you all know of one of the most recent additions to the Palace - this is Glinda Upland - a Witch, you know. And of course a fine Gillikinese girl."
The choice of the word "witch" was deliberate and had an instant effect on the Quadlings, who lived close to nature and were wary of sorcery. The two men from Gillikin barely blinked, although the younger said, "I thought I had heard she was a Munchkinlander." At the last minute he sent an apologetic look at Glinda, as if he had just realized it was rude to speak about her in her presence.
Morrible shook her head. "No, the other one is a Munchkinlander - a tall Munchkinlander, you know. Though her height isn't quite the first thing you'd notice." She laughed humorlessly, and the older Gillikinese officer joined her.
"Of course we know of Miss Upland," he said, looking at Glinda. "She made quite an impression on our Governor."
"Did she?" Morrible asked, craning to look up at Glinda. "How nice."
Glinda suddenly wondered whether she was supposed to consult with Morrible, or the Wizard, before rejecting potentially politically advantageous marriage proposals. She hoped not.
Fortunately, Morrible didn't ask questions. She merely gestured to the other open chair, at the opposite end of the table from herself. "Glinda, dear, do go and have a seat. We all have a great deal to discuss."
Glinda walked slowly to the available chair, feeling all eyes on her. Both Gillikinese officers continued to watch her even after she had sat down, even though Madame Morrible had begun talking again about increasing recruitment of native troops for the Quadling militia. Skills, Glinda thought as the older officer rearranged the papers on the table in front of him as an excuse to lean closer to the neckline of her dress. That's one word for it, I suppose.
~~Elphaba~~
Fiyero looked slightly alarmed when she came into the pub alone. "Is something wrong with Glinda?" he asked, rising from his chair.
"Not exactly." Elphaba hesitated, then lowered the hood that had shielded her from curious gazes on the way to the slightly less savory district favored by off-duty Guards. "Morrible wanted her for something."
Fiyero wasn't privy to most of their information about Morrible, so although he didn't favor her much, this news didn't seem to worry him. He merely said, "Oh," and then shepherded Elphaba into the chair facing the corner at his small table. A few heads had turned when green fingers had appeared to shift the hood and reveal the rest of her, but the crowd was a mix of half-drunk Guards and citizens who probably preferred to avoid the notice of the Palace, and most of them had quickly gone about their own business.
"So," Elphaba asked quietly as Fiyero slipped around the table and sat down facing her, "is he here?"
"I haven't seen him yet." Fiyero glanced up to nod at a barkeep who was bending down to place a mug of ale in front of Elphaba. When she frowned, Fiyero said, "Do you want to look suspicious?"
"No," Elphaba acknowledged. She pulled the heavy, overfilled mug toward herself and took a careful sip without lifting it from the table. "Are any of yours here?"
"Any of my - oh. My men?"
She nodded and bent to sip a bit more ale off the top of her mug.
"A few."
Elphaba twisted to look over her shoulder and caught the eye of a very startled young Guard who instantly turned his back. She turned back to Fiyero and raised an eyebrow. "That one?"
"Mine," he admitted with a shrug. "He's brave enough most of the time."
"I have been known to strike fear into the hearts of the hardiest men in Oz," she said.
He waved both hands, fingers crooked, over the table. "That's because you can knock them senseless with a mere thought."
"And yet I don't scare you."
His nose crinkled just slightly. "Not really, no."
"Too bad." She managed to fight the sudden urge to smile, although the look on his face was making it difficult.
"Have you been trying to scare me, all these years?" he asked with the hint of a grin, leaning way back in his chair.
"I don't try to scare anyone." He pointedly cleared his throat, and she added, "Much."
Fiyero laughed, then lifted his chin and nodded over her shoulder. "He's fascinated."
"Who is?" she asked without looking.
"That soldier of mine." He took a sip of his ale, still looking amused.
Elphaba sighed. "Making sure I don't suddenly decide to hex him to pieces, I suppose. You know, I don't know why more of them aren't frightened of Glinda. Anyone as pretty as she is should be terrifying."
"I imagine they are frightened of her," Fiyero said. "It's lucky for him she's not here; the poor boy would be confused. Completely unable to decide which of you he fears more."
"And you've let them go on thinking I'm dangerous."
"Oh, Elphaba," Fiyero said, bending to sip his ale and looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You are dangerous."
She wanted to glare, but couldn't quite manage it. In the end she gave a little cough and asked, "Any sign of -"
"No." His eyes darted around the dim corners of the pub. "Maybe he's afraid of talking to you directly. It's possible he won't be seen near you."
"Maybe you ought to try coming alone with Glinda instead, next time."
"Possibly. What did Morrible want with her, anyway?"
"She said she had a meeting to attend with some important people, and she wanted Glinda to go with her."
"For what?" Fiyero asked, raising his ale.
"To seduce them, I suppose."
Fiyero gave her a look as he set down the mug again. "Thank you for saying that after I swallowed."
"You're welcome."
"Is that really what you think?"
Elphaba nodded. "Morrible still doesn't think she's good for much else."
"And you're not worried?"
"If I were, do you think I'd be here?"
Fiyero shook his head. "If you were worried, I'd hope I wouldn't be here either. You will - I've been thinking about this, Elphaba, and I don't think you would -" He stopped and shook his head. "I want you to come and get me, or send for me, if you think you're in trouble. Either of you. I'm afraid it wouldn't occur to you to do that."
"You can't always help," Elphaba said softly.
"I know that. But if you can -"
"If it wouldn't get you in trouble," she corrected. "Or give you away."
"I don't care about getting in trouble, if you or Glinda need help. You don't know that by now?"
"You can't help us if you get thrown out," Elphaba reminded him quietly. "But if you can help -"
"Then you promise?"
She sat up straighter in surprise at his vehemence. "Yes," she said. "Then, I promise."
"Good." He glanced at the clocks on the wall. "I think we can go. Come on, you shouldn't walk back alone at this hour."
She glanced around them as she stood and lifted the hood of her cloak. "Will your men think . . ."
"They won't think anything different from what they do already," he said, making her blush. She was grateful for the shadow created by the hood as he took gentle hold of her arm and steered her toward the door.