Fic: Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble - Chapter 9 (Wicked)
Fandom: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG-13, whole fic PG-13/R.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensual socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 9.
"You should have stayed at home," Elphaba said for the third time, and Glinda, tired of arguing the point, just patted her hand complacently.
The carriage bounced along the road. Thorpe, the man who had had a gun to Glinda's head and his finger at the trigger, was sitting opposite her now, looking at her suspiciously every now and then. Opposite Elphaba sat Fossian, who unlike Thorpe wore no coat over his flashy livery and had curled his hair in a foppish fashion. Elphaba wasn't about to fail to take him seriously, though - she could see the sword practice scars and gunpowder burns on his hands. All in all she would have been much happier to be sitting on top of the carriage with a gun in her hand, but it made Nessa fidgety, and there was a time for everything. She did on occasion stick her head out of the window to gaze thoughtfully back towards the road they just came. She always returned satisfied.
"How did Fiyero know the jewel had been lost?" she asked Glinda suddenly.
"I called him," Glinda said. "I was so sure he had it that I thought I could just convince him to give it back."
"I thought as much." Elphaba fell silent, musing. Glinda gave her a searching look, then nodded her satisfaction. Elphaba glanced at her, raised an eyebrow, and smiled in answer to Glinda's knowing look. Fossian and Thorpe glanced at each other, confused, Thorpe scowling angrily at what he couldn't understand.
"Seen them yet?" Glinda asked.
"No, but that's good."
"You two stop that right now," said Thorpe. "I'll tell the Governor everything you say."
"By all means," said Glinda, taking out her pocket mirror and fussing with her hair. Elphaba leaned over her shoulder to look in too, but saw that it was pointed at an angle away from Glinda's pretty nose and to the road behind them. That confirmed it - they were on the same wavelength, and Miss Glinda wasn't nearly as dumb as she looked. Elphaba felt a warm splash of giddy affection for the girl. Was Glinda right? Was this strength? Or was it what it brought - Glinda's assistance, her trust, her... partnership? Fiyero hadn't been able to handle what Elphaba was, what she did. Could Glinda?
She tore her thoughts away from the complexities of human relationships and back onto the road. They were half-way there. By her calculations, Madame Morrible could already be holding the jewel and getting back into her carriage. It all depended on how long she planned to stay. She still had plenty of time before the appointment with Fiyero - or so she thought, anyway.
It felt odd to think she might have gone to Shiz herself and met Glinda there instead of on a stormy night in the Emerald City. If it hadn't been for the invention of guns that fortified Quadling resistance long enough for her family to survive there past the Wizard's initial attacks - if she hadn't still had a cause to fight for when she was of age... but she would never have wished for a swifter genocide. Quadlings had loved every moment of life and freedom, no matter how miserable, no matter how painful. It had felt perverse at the time that she and her family had been the ones to survive; it still did, on occasion.
There was a shout from the carriage up ahead and an answering one from the driver of their own carriage. They picked up speed, suddenly rattling faster along the smooth brick road. Both Elphaba and Thorpe - the man who has had a gun to Glinda's head - put their heads out of the window.
"We're being followed!" the driver shouted over the wind and clatter. Sure enough, now that there was no more need for concealment, they could all see two fast small blue carriages pulling up to them, each with four horses. Metal plating glinted in the sun, and even as they looked, nasty-looking spikes were being pushed out of the sides and armoured men could be seen climbing behind shields built on top of the carriage.
"War carriages!" cried Thorpe and pulled out his gun. He fired a few shots, hardly even aiming, and managed to ricochet two bullets off the plating that buried themselves harmlessly into the surrounding trees.
"Give me back my gun," said Elphaba to Fossian, who was in the process of loading his and cursing.
"Don't be stupid," Fossian said without even looking at her and stuck his hand out quickly to fire a round at their pursuers. The carriage was now rattling and bumping along at an alarming speed.
"I'm not, that's my point," Elphaba snapped. "Those are the Winkie Prince's men. Think they're going to stop to sort out who they're shooting at? It's both of us in a ditch in this carriage with both our necks broken if we don't stop them first. Give me back my gun!"
Fossian didn't answer immediately, but reloaded and fired another round. A bullet whizzed by his ear; Elphaba could see a drop of blood forming at the tip of his left ear. He reloaded fast and efficiently. "All right," he said at last, reached into his coat pocket and put Fat Margie in Elphaba's hand, and reached into his other pocket to hand her a handful of bullets. Elphaba took the gun, feeling a small dark satisfaction at how well it fitted into her hand, loaded and shot through Fossian's right hand.
He dropped his gun and screamed. Fat Margie was a powerful weapon. He would lose that hand. Quick as thought Elphaba had kicked open the carriage door opposite and was shoving Thorpe out into the road. He fell with a thump and a crack into the brick road and rolled. Elphaba braced herself against Fossian's attack, which didn't come. She turned instead to see the gun he had dropped being clutched in Glinda's delicate hands, safety off, her finger on the trigger, pointing between Fossian's eyes.
"Out!" Glinda commanded. Elphaba pulled closed the door through which Thorpe had so recently exited and kicked open the one on Fossian's side.
Fossian's face was a grimace of pain and fury. He ducked out the door, however, about to jump and roll, but turned at the last moment and kicked at Glinda's hand. Elphaba shot him once, twice, three times, Margie leaving three horrid gaping wounds in now blue-white-red tunic. He crumpled, fell back, and slid out the carriage door.
"Now what?" Elphaba could see that Glinda was pale, her eyes wide and a little wild, but her hand was steady.
"You know how to use that?" Elphaba asked.
"Some," said Glinda. "Safety off when shooting, on when not, and remember it kicks."
"Good enough. Keep inside, I'll take out the driver."
"Wait! What's the plan? How will they know we're with them?"
Elphaba flashed her a crooked smile. "Their driver knows me."
"Is it--?" Glinda moved to put her head out to see.
Elphaba pulled her back. "Careful!" She took off her trenchcoat and waistcoat quickly and undid her braces.
Glinda stared at her. "Sweetie, is this really the time to--"
"So he'll see my skin!" Elphaba laughed, and Glinda nodded understanding with a small grin. Elphaba took off her shirt, leaving on only a wifebeater, and stuck an arm out the window, sticking her thumb up for good measure.
She still had fire from Nessa's carriage to worry about, so she went back in and smashed the window in the back of the carriage with Fat Margie's but. Shards rained on the leather covering of the seats. She wrapped her shirt around her hand to clear away what still stuck to the frame and climbed out, crawling low on top of the carriage to keep out of the fire from Nessa's car. She could see the driver, a broad-backed Munchkin woman in her middle years, who was glancing back in fear and crouching as low as she could as the bullets whizzed by. Elphaba felt a pang of pity.
"Give me the reins and get below!" she shouted, Fat Margie pointed at the woman's back in case some misguided sense of loyalty threatened to make her resist. The woman opened her mouth, but at that moment her forehead burst into a red mess. As she fell into a heap, Elphaba could see Garrott on top of the carriage ahead, behind a makeshift shield of heavy oak, his gun still smoking, his eyes cold as glaziers.
"Mistake," Elphaba muttered. She threw herself down as the first bullets hurtled towards her. She grabbed the reins, yanking them harshly, causing the horses to rear up, obscuring her from view. She snapped them down hard, holding on tightly as the horses sped up and drew level with the other carriage. Bullets ricochet off of the carriage as they passed.
Elphaba raised Margie up. She would only get one shot at this. The world seemed to run in slow motion as she fired the gun, the bullet speeding towards Garrott's wiry frame. She watched as he moved to shield his side, but he was too slow. The metal entered his side, winding him and sending him flying off the carriage.
There was no time for celebration as the horses were getting out of control and the carriage had started to spin off of the road. Green hands worked on the reins, trying in vain to calm the creatures but it was too late. Carriage and driver hurtled off the road, the world spun around and Elphaba felt them hit a bump. She grabbed for purchase but was thrown clean off and into the side of the road.
She hit the ground hard and pain flashed through her entire frame. She saw the carriage begin to fall and knew she had no more time to scrabble for safety. Elphaba squeezed her eyes tight and braced herself for its fatal weight. She'd never expected a quiet death, after all, but she did wish she'd had time to finish this - to see Glinda safe and the Winkies restored to their property. Then there was the thump as the weight hit her.
The pain was crippling. She heard ribs begin to crack and her leg felt like it was caught in a vice. It was painful, but something was wrong. When a carriage fell on you, it killed you, that was plain enough - so why was she still sitting there aware of her cracked ribs? She let her eyes open a fraction, trying to see what had broken the fall of the carriage. She would have gasped, had there not been an axle crushing her chest.
The carriage was... floating. Yep. Definitely nothing but air underneath there. She craned her neck, looking for the source and was not to be disappointed. Glinda stood with her arms thrust in front of her, pale fingers outstretched. Her body was taut as a bow, eyes shut in concentration. She was chanting, Elphaba realised - the language of all spells. The voice was getting louder and louder and Elphaba felt the metal on her body lifting slightly before it was thrown off of her. She gasped, breathing air into her crushed lungs before coughing violently. She struggled round, only to see Glinda grasp at her head, her body swaying as she finished the spell.
Elphaba yanked her body upwards, forcing herself into action. She managed to catch Glinda a second before she hit the ground and lowered them both down into a heap. Glinda blinked her eyes open.
"I'm meant to be saving you," she objected, her voice coarse from the spell. "So why am I in your arms?" Elphaba started to laugh, only to find herself doubled over in pain from the sharp sensation in her chest. Glinda's eyes widened as she saw the wince and she quickly moved off of her lover. With no regard for time and place she yanked the wifebeater up, exposing a thin green body. She ran a hand lightly over the chest, confirming what Elphaba already knew.
"Fae!" A man's voice called out from across the road. Both women turned, Glinda's hands still firmly beneath Elphaba's shirt, their legs intertwined. Fiyero came speeding down towards them, his men flanking him, normally pristine clothing had come loose and ruffled and dark long hair fell freely across his shoulders. Blood trickled down from somewhere along his hairline and his breathing was heavy. "Fae," he said again slowly as he comprehended what we was seeing. "Are you both alright?" he asked, looking away.
"We're fine," said Elphaba with a scowl and yanked her shirt back down. She untangled her long limbs from Glinda's and tried to stand up, but only managed to extend one leg before collapsing back into the ground.
"Obviously," said Fiyero grimly. "Take up her gun, Glin-- Miss Arduenna. You may not be the shot she is, but at least you can lift it." He strode over to Elphaba, who was still struggling to stand. Despite her slapping him away, he swooped her in his arms and lifted her up like a fragile child. He didn't look at her, but marched straight back to his own carriages, both of which were still standing, stopped on the side of the road.
Elphaba turned her pain-hazed eyes on the road towards Shiz. Nessa's carriage was a diminishing dot in the distance. "They'll get there first," she said and coughed, her own blood trickling down her throat. She spit out a tooth. It clattered onto the road and left a red sigil on the yellow brick. Down the road, more and larger shapes of red were drawn on it by the men left scattered behind.
"Hush," said Fiyero softly and set her gently down on the seat of one of his carriages. "We'll follow. We'll get you to a healer as soon as we reach Shiz."
"Idiot," Elphaba grunted. "Just go after your gem. Do you realize what will happen if the Wizard--"
"Hush is a very simple command, Fae, even you should be able to follow it." He said it with a smile that shut even Elphaba up. "Glinda," he said, apparently decided against formality after all, "accompany her. Don't let her try any more heroics."
"Look who's talking," muttered Elphaba as Glinda climbed in.
"Well, that wasn't that well thought out after all, was it?" Glinda said as she fussed propping Elphaba up in a way that would put the least strain on her injuries. The carriage soon began to roll along the road, calmly, slowly.
"Tell them to hurry it up!" Elphaba said. "They'll be too late..."
"Too late for what? We have plenty of time get old Horrible Morrible, and Nessa won't be able to stop us."
"She might do - with the Grimmerald she might do," said Elphaba, gasping and gritting her teeth as the carriage hit a bump on the road. Her face was pale green now, her knuckles almost white as she clutched the carriage window for support. Glinda, distraught, undid her shawl and wrapped it around Elphaba's thin shoulders, for what little warmth it could give.
"We have to get to her before she gets to the Grimmerald," Elphaba muttered, and fell against the seat with a sigh. She suddenly felt very sleepy, tired beyond thought. "But she doesn't know - where it..." The world swirled, a mist covering everything in blessed haze, and the pain receded into numbness. The world winked out into total black.
-
When Elphaba awoke night had descended, plunging the carriage into a monochromatic wonderland. Her breathing was still ragged and pain coursed up her body from somewhere near her shin. Glinda had fallen asleep, her shapely frame draped across the edge of the seat. Elphaba tried to pull herself up, wincing as her side sent a very loud message to her brain. Glinda stirred at the movement, blinking open her eyes and shifting herself upwards. As soon as she saw Elphaba try to move she was at her side.
"Don't even think about it, missy," she muttered darkly, laying the detective down again. Elphaba muttered something incomprehensible under her breath before swallowing.
"How long was I out?" She groaned as Glinda brushed some of the hair out of her face.
"Only a few hours," Glinda replied, her forehead creased into a frown. "I've done what I can, but I never could get my head around healing magic - tends to end up a bit messy, if you know what I mean."
Elphaba smirked, closing her eyes and letting her head fall. "You seemed pretty capable back there," she said after a few moments.
Glinda shrugged, clicking out her bag and automatically reaching for her mirror. "I needed to be. Besides, levitation was something I ended up spending far too many hours on - Crope nearly ran out of sandwiches." She giggled, opening the mirror and checking her face. Elphaba could imagine the scene, the two of them sitting there, Crope begging his lunch back and Glinda saying, 'Just once more, I promise.' No wonder the man was so skinny. "I'm just glad that it didn't explode," Glinda muttered, readjusting her hair.
"That would probably have been bad, yes," Elphaba agreed. The next few minutes were spent in silence, Glinda having produced powder from somewhere about her person and proceeding to dab over the worst of her bruising. Some things would never change. "Can I have my gun back?" Elphaba asked casually after Glinda had started on her nose.
"No," she replied, not looking away and moving to her eyes.
"Oh," Elphaba sighed. "You've decided to listen to Fiyero then?" she asked lightly.
"Don't try it, Elphaba," Glinda answered, snapping the mirror shut. "I'm not giving it back."
"Fine, fine," Elphaba grumbled. "How long till we get to Shiz then?" she asked moodily.
"Maybe an hour or so," Glinda told her, moving until Elphaba's head was in her lap. Elphaba went to complain, but one glare and she rolled her eyes and fell silent. She felt Glinda undo the tie holding her hair up and begin to comb through the dark strands with her fingers. Each bump still sent a jolt of pain through Elphaba's body but after awhile she became used to the sway and felt herself relax into an almost trance-like state as Glinda combed out every knot and tangle.
"Where do you think the Grimmerald will be?" Glinda asked after awhile, her hands tracing Elphaba's hairline.
"S'all guessing right now," Elphaba said lazily, feeling the fingers start to massage deeper into her scalp. "What's in left wing?" she asked, moaning a little as Glinda kneaded out the tension.
"Well, dorms, some classrooms - just usual stuff, really," Glinda told her idly, smiling as she felt the tight body start to relax to her touch.
"Anywhere particularly safeguarded?" Elpahaba asked, her mind clouding a little. "Like... a safe?"
Glinda laughed at this. Amazing what one woman's hands could do. "Not that I know of, but it will probably be one of the unoccupied rooms, if that helps. After all, she wouldn't want students getting their hands on it."
"Lurline forbid."
"Quite right."
Elphaba was feeling pleasantly sleepy, enough so that the pain almost seemed to recede. She began to succumb to the rocking of the carriage, to the tenderness of Glinda's touch, even as her blood seeped into and through Glinda's fine dress. Whatever else happened, she thought through the haze, she was out of the fight now - perhaps for good.
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG-13, whole fic PG-13/R.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensual socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 9.
"You should have stayed at home," Elphaba said for the third time, and Glinda, tired of arguing the point, just patted her hand complacently.
The carriage bounced along the road. Thorpe, the man who had had a gun to Glinda's head and his finger at the trigger, was sitting opposite her now, looking at her suspiciously every now and then. Opposite Elphaba sat Fossian, who unlike Thorpe wore no coat over his flashy livery and had curled his hair in a foppish fashion. Elphaba wasn't about to fail to take him seriously, though - she could see the sword practice scars and gunpowder burns on his hands. All in all she would have been much happier to be sitting on top of the carriage with a gun in her hand, but it made Nessa fidgety, and there was a time for everything. She did on occasion stick her head out of the window to gaze thoughtfully back towards the road they just came. She always returned satisfied.
"How did Fiyero know the jewel had been lost?" she asked Glinda suddenly.
"I called him," Glinda said. "I was so sure he had it that I thought I could just convince him to give it back."
"I thought as much." Elphaba fell silent, musing. Glinda gave her a searching look, then nodded her satisfaction. Elphaba glanced at her, raised an eyebrow, and smiled in answer to Glinda's knowing look. Fossian and Thorpe glanced at each other, confused, Thorpe scowling angrily at what he couldn't understand.
"Seen them yet?" Glinda asked.
"No, but that's good."
"You two stop that right now," said Thorpe. "I'll tell the Governor everything you say."
"By all means," said Glinda, taking out her pocket mirror and fussing with her hair. Elphaba leaned over her shoulder to look in too, but saw that it was pointed at an angle away from Glinda's pretty nose and to the road behind them. That confirmed it - they were on the same wavelength, and Miss Glinda wasn't nearly as dumb as she looked. Elphaba felt a warm splash of giddy affection for the girl. Was Glinda right? Was this strength? Or was it what it brought - Glinda's assistance, her trust, her... partnership? Fiyero hadn't been able to handle what Elphaba was, what she did. Could Glinda?
She tore her thoughts away from the complexities of human relationships and back onto the road. They were half-way there. By her calculations, Madame Morrible could already be holding the jewel and getting back into her carriage. It all depended on how long she planned to stay. She still had plenty of time before the appointment with Fiyero - or so she thought, anyway.
It felt odd to think she might have gone to Shiz herself and met Glinda there instead of on a stormy night in the Emerald City. If it hadn't been for the invention of guns that fortified Quadling resistance long enough for her family to survive there past the Wizard's initial attacks - if she hadn't still had a cause to fight for when she was of age... but she would never have wished for a swifter genocide. Quadlings had loved every moment of life and freedom, no matter how miserable, no matter how painful. It had felt perverse at the time that she and her family had been the ones to survive; it still did, on occasion.
There was a shout from the carriage up ahead and an answering one from the driver of their own carriage. They picked up speed, suddenly rattling faster along the smooth brick road. Both Elphaba and Thorpe - the man who has had a gun to Glinda's head - put their heads out of the window.
"We're being followed!" the driver shouted over the wind and clatter. Sure enough, now that there was no more need for concealment, they could all see two fast small blue carriages pulling up to them, each with four horses. Metal plating glinted in the sun, and even as they looked, nasty-looking spikes were being pushed out of the sides and armoured men could be seen climbing behind shields built on top of the carriage.
"War carriages!" cried Thorpe and pulled out his gun. He fired a few shots, hardly even aiming, and managed to ricochet two bullets off the plating that buried themselves harmlessly into the surrounding trees.
"Give me back my gun," said Elphaba to Fossian, who was in the process of loading his and cursing.
"Don't be stupid," Fossian said without even looking at her and stuck his hand out quickly to fire a round at their pursuers. The carriage was now rattling and bumping along at an alarming speed.
"I'm not, that's my point," Elphaba snapped. "Those are the Winkie Prince's men. Think they're going to stop to sort out who they're shooting at? It's both of us in a ditch in this carriage with both our necks broken if we don't stop them first. Give me back my gun!"
Fossian didn't answer immediately, but reloaded and fired another round. A bullet whizzed by his ear; Elphaba could see a drop of blood forming at the tip of his left ear. He reloaded fast and efficiently. "All right," he said at last, reached into his coat pocket and put Fat Margie in Elphaba's hand, and reached into his other pocket to hand her a handful of bullets. Elphaba took the gun, feeling a small dark satisfaction at how well it fitted into her hand, loaded and shot through Fossian's right hand.
He dropped his gun and screamed. Fat Margie was a powerful weapon. He would lose that hand. Quick as thought Elphaba had kicked open the carriage door opposite and was shoving Thorpe out into the road. He fell with a thump and a crack into the brick road and rolled. Elphaba braced herself against Fossian's attack, which didn't come. She turned instead to see the gun he had dropped being clutched in Glinda's delicate hands, safety off, her finger on the trigger, pointing between Fossian's eyes.
"Out!" Glinda commanded. Elphaba pulled closed the door through which Thorpe had so recently exited and kicked open the one on Fossian's side.
Fossian's face was a grimace of pain and fury. He ducked out the door, however, about to jump and roll, but turned at the last moment and kicked at Glinda's hand. Elphaba shot him once, twice, three times, Margie leaving three horrid gaping wounds in now blue-white-red tunic. He crumpled, fell back, and slid out the carriage door.
"Now what?" Elphaba could see that Glinda was pale, her eyes wide and a little wild, but her hand was steady.
"You know how to use that?" Elphaba asked.
"Some," said Glinda. "Safety off when shooting, on when not, and remember it kicks."
"Good enough. Keep inside, I'll take out the driver."
"Wait! What's the plan? How will they know we're with them?"
Elphaba flashed her a crooked smile. "Their driver knows me."
"Is it--?" Glinda moved to put her head out to see.
Elphaba pulled her back. "Careful!" She took off her trenchcoat and waistcoat quickly and undid her braces.
Glinda stared at her. "Sweetie, is this really the time to--"
"So he'll see my skin!" Elphaba laughed, and Glinda nodded understanding with a small grin. Elphaba took off her shirt, leaving on only a wifebeater, and stuck an arm out the window, sticking her thumb up for good measure.
She still had fire from Nessa's carriage to worry about, so she went back in and smashed the window in the back of the carriage with Fat Margie's but. Shards rained on the leather covering of the seats. She wrapped her shirt around her hand to clear away what still stuck to the frame and climbed out, crawling low on top of the carriage to keep out of the fire from Nessa's car. She could see the driver, a broad-backed Munchkin woman in her middle years, who was glancing back in fear and crouching as low as she could as the bullets whizzed by. Elphaba felt a pang of pity.
"Give me the reins and get below!" she shouted, Fat Margie pointed at the woman's back in case some misguided sense of loyalty threatened to make her resist. The woman opened her mouth, but at that moment her forehead burst into a red mess. As she fell into a heap, Elphaba could see Garrott on top of the carriage ahead, behind a makeshift shield of heavy oak, his gun still smoking, his eyes cold as glaziers.
"Mistake," Elphaba muttered. She threw herself down as the first bullets hurtled towards her. She grabbed the reins, yanking them harshly, causing the horses to rear up, obscuring her from view. She snapped them down hard, holding on tightly as the horses sped up and drew level with the other carriage. Bullets ricochet off of the carriage as they passed.
Elphaba raised Margie up. She would only get one shot at this. The world seemed to run in slow motion as she fired the gun, the bullet speeding towards Garrott's wiry frame. She watched as he moved to shield his side, but he was too slow. The metal entered his side, winding him and sending him flying off the carriage.
There was no time for celebration as the horses were getting out of control and the carriage had started to spin off of the road. Green hands worked on the reins, trying in vain to calm the creatures but it was too late. Carriage and driver hurtled off the road, the world spun around and Elphaba felt them hit a bump. She grabbed for purchase but was thrown clean off and into the side of the road.
She hit the ground hard and pain flashed through her entire frame. She saw the carriage begin to fall and knew she had no more time to scrabble for safety. Elphaba squeezed her eyes tight and braced herself for its fatal weight. She'd never expected a quiet death, after all, but she did wish she'd had time to finish this - to see Glinda safe and the Winkies restored to their property. Then there was the thump as the weight hit her.
The pain was crippling. She heard ribs begin to crack and her leg felt like it was caught in a vice. It was painful, but something was wrong. When a carriage fell on you, it killed you, that was plain enough - so why was she still sitting there aware of her cracked ribs? She let her eyes open a fraction, trying to see what had broken the fall of the carriage. She would have gasped, had there not been an axle crushing her chest.
The carriage was... floating. Yep. Definitely nothing but air underneath there. She craned her neck, looking for the source and was not to be disappointed. Glinda stood with her arms thrust in front of her, pale fingers outstretched. Her body was taut as a bow, eyes shut in concentration. She was chanting, Elphaba realised - the language of all spells. The voice was getting louder and louder and Elphaba felt the metal on her body lifting slightly before it was thrown off of her. She gasped, breathing air into her crushed lungs before coughing violently. She struggled round, only to see Glinda grasp at her head, her body swaying as she finished the spell.
Elphaba yanked her body upwards, forcing herself into action. She managed to catch Glinda a second before she hit the ground and lowered them both down into a heap. Glinda blinked her eyes open.
"I'm meant to be saving you," she objected, her voice coarse from the spell. "So why am I in your arms?" Elphaba started to laugh, only to find herself doubled over in pain from the sharp sensation in her chest. Glinda's eyes widened as she saw the wince and she quickly moved off of her lover. With no regard for time and place she yanked the wifebeater up, exposing a thin green body. She ran a hand lightly over the chest, confirming what Elphaba already knew.
"Fae!" A man's voice called out from across the road. Both women turned, Glinda's hands still firmly beneath Elphaba's shirt, their legs intertwined. Fiyero came speeding down towards them, his men flanking him, normally pristine clothing had come loose and ruffled and dark long hair fell freely across his shoulders. Blood trickled down from somewhere along his hairline and his breathing was heavy. "Fae," he said again slowly as he comprehended what we was seeing. "Are you both alright?" he asked, looking away.
"We're fine," said Elphaba with a scowl and yanked her shirt back down. She untangled her long limbs from Glinda's and tried to stand up, but only managed to extend one leg before collapsing back into the ground.
"Obviously," said Fiyero grimly. "Take up her gun, Glin-- Miss Arduenna. You may not be the shot she is, but at least you can lift it." He strode over to Elphaba, who was still struggling to stand. Despite her slapping him away, he swooped her in his arms and lifted her up like a fragile child. He didn't look at her, but marched straight back to his own carriages, both of which were still standing, stopped on the side of the road.
Elphaba turned her pain-hazed eyes on the road towards Shiz. Nessa's carriage was a diminishing dot in the distance. "They'll get there first," she said and coughed, her own blood trickling down her throat. She spit out a tooth. It clattered onto the road and left a red sigil on the yellow brick. Down the road, more and larger shapes of red were drawn on it by the men left scattered behind.
"Hush," said Fiyero softly and set her gently down on the seat of one of his carriages. "We'll follow. We'll get you to a healer as soon as we reach Shiz."
"Idiot," Elphaba grunted. "Just go after your gem. Do you realize what will happen if the Wizard--"
"Hush is a very simple command, Fae, even you should be able to follow it." He said it with a smile that shut even Elphaba up. "Glinda," he said, apparently decided against formality after all, "accompany her. Don't let her try any more heroics."
"Look who's talking," muttered Elphaba as Glinda climbed in.
"Well, that wasn't that well thought out after all, was it?" Glinda said as she fussed propping Elphaba up in a way that would put the least strain on her injuries. The carriage soon began to roll along the road, calmly, slowly.
"Tell them to hurry it up!" Elphaba said. "They'll be too late..."
"Too late for what? We have plenty of time get old Horrible Morrible, and Nessa won't be able to stop us."
"She might do - with the Grimmerald she might do," said Elphaba, gasping and gritting her teeth as the carriage hit a bump on the road. Her face was pale green now, her knuckles almost white as she clutched the carriage window for support. Glinda, distraught, undid her shawl and wrapped it around Elphaba's thin shoulders, for what little warmth it could give.
"We have to get to her before she gets to the Grimmerald," Elphaba muttered, and fell against the seat with a sigh. She suddenly felt very sleepy, tired beyond thought. "But she doesn't know - where it..." The world swirled, a mist covering everything in blessed haze, and the pain receded into numbness. The world winked out into total black.
-
When Elphaba awoke night had descended, plunging the carriage into a monochromatic wonderland. Her breathing was still ragged and pain coursed up her body from somewhere near her shin. Glinda had fallen asleep, her shapely frame draped across the edge of the seat. Elphaba tried to pull herself up, wincing as her side sent a very loud message to her brain. Glinda stirred at the movement, blinking open her eyes and shifting herself upwards. As soon as she saw Elphaba try to move she was at her side.
"Don't even think about it, missy," she muttered darkly, laying the detective down again. Elphaba muttered something incomprehensible under her breath before swallowing.
"How long was I out?" She groaned as Glinda brushed some of the hair out of her face.
"Only a few hours," Glinda replied, her forehead creased into a frown. "I've done what I can, but I never could get my head around healing magic - tends to end up a bit messy, if you know what I mean."
Elphaba smirked, closing her eyes and letting her head fall. "You seemed pretty capable back there," she said after a few moments.
Glinda shrugged, clicking out her bag and automatically reaching for her mirror. "I needed to be. Besides, levitation was something I ended up spending far too many hours on - Crope nearly ran out of sandwiches." She giggled, opening the mirror and checking her face. Elphaba could imagine the scene, the two of them sitting there, Crope begging his lunch back and Glinda saying, 'Just once more, I promise.' No wonder the man was so skinny. "I'm just glad that it didn't explode," Glinda muttered, readjusting her hair.
"That would probably have been bad, yes," Elphaba agreed. The next few minutes were spent in silence, Glinda having produced powder from somewhere about her person and proceeding to dab over the worst of her bruising. Some things would never change. "Can I have my gun back?" Elphaba asked casually after Glinda had started on her nose.
"No," she replied, not looking away and moving to her eyes.
"Oh," Elphaba sighed. "You've decided to listen to Fiyero then?" she asked lightly.
"Don't try it, Elphaba," Glinda answered, snapping the mirror shut. "I'm not giving it back."
"Fine, fine," Elphaba grumbled. "How long till we get to Shiz then?" she asked moodily.
"Maybe an hour or so," Glinda told her, moving until Elphaba's head was in her lap. Elphaba went to complain, but one glare and she rolled her eyes and fell silent. She felt Glinda undo the tie holding her hair up and begin to comb through the dark strands with her fingers. Each bump still sent a jolt of pain through Elphaba's body but after awhile she became used to the sway and felt herself relax into an almost trance-like state as Glinda combed out every knot and tangle.
"Where do you think the Grimmerald will be?" Glinda asked after awhile, her hands tracing Elphaba's hairline.
"S'all guessing right now," Elphaba said lazily, feeling the fingers start to massage deeper into her scalp. "What's in left wing?" she asked, moaning a little as Glinda kneaded out the tension.
"Well, dorms, some classrooms - just usual stuff, really," Glinda told her idly, smiling as she felt the tight body start to relax to her touch.
"Anywhere particularly safeguarded?" Elpahaba asked, her mind clouding a little. "Like... a safe?"
Glinda laughed at this. Amazing what one woman's hands could do. "Not that I know of, but it will probably be one of the unoccupied rooms, if that helps. After all, she wouldn't want students getting their hands on it."
"Lurline forbid."
"Quite right."
Elphaba was feeling pleasantly sleepy, enough so that the pain almost seemed to recede. She began to succumb to the rocking of the carriage, to the tenderness of Glinda's touch, even as her blood seeped into and through Glinda's fine dress. Whatever else happened, she thought through the haze, she was out of the fight now - perhaps for good.