Defying Gravity, 31/?, by ainsleyaisling
Title: Defying Gravity, 31/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG
'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: The plot thickens, again.
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, plus the posted chapters of this story, can be found here. The previous chapter of this story can be found here.
Even More Notes: Welcome back from the Christmas hiatus. We now return to our regularly scheduled updating.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda was in such turmoil by the morning before the big Midwinter celebration that when she woke in a hazy fog of white light it almost seemed to make sense. She'd spent the past days in a nearly dreamlike state anyway, a little lightheaded and a little frail, always feeling as if something were about to pop out from around a corner and startle her. She spent half her time watching Elphaba, but her roommate seemed separated from her in a way by the veil that now surrounded Glinda - although, to be fair, that same veil made Glinda feel equally separated from everyone else in the waking world.
So, for the first few moments of that morning she only blinked into the whitish glow around her, not even attempting to clear the fog from her mind. It took her a while to see the bits of shadow dancing, and to realize that most of the glowing haze was composed of motes of dust in unnaturally bright light. Her head still somewhat confused by sleep, she pushed back the blankets and slid her feet down to the floor, habit sending her searching for her slippers with one foot without even wincing as her feet touched the freezing floorboards.
By the time she was brushing aside the curtain she had already found enough clarity to see what was going on, but she stood for a moment staring at the blinding whiteness that surrounded the palace and seemed to hem in her window with a solid column of wind. Then she dropped the curtain and ran for Elphaba's room. She knocked, but receiving no answer carefully opened the door and slipped in.
Elphaba was uncharacteristically still asleep, and Glinda had to call her name several times, gently shaking Elphaba's shoulder, to wake her. Once she was awake, however, she was almost instantly alarmed. She looked as though she would have sat up straight, except that she was alert enough to have figured out that this would involve knocking her head against Glinda's. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Something strange is happening," Glinda told her. "Look."
Elphaba was already squinting in the brightness of the morning. "What's so white?"
Glinda almost smiled at Elphaba's confusion, which so mirrored her own a few moments ago. But she still felt that something was wrong, or at the very least extremely strange. "It's snowing. Look."
Frowning, Elphaba extracted herself from the bedclothes and slid sideways, avoiding banging into Glinda as they both went to the window. Elphaba barely seemed to notice the cold of the floor under her feet. "Is it any warmer?" she asked as they crossed the room.
"Doesn't feel like it to me," Glinda said. She pushed one curtain out of the way as Elphaba reached for the other.
"Me either," Elphaba said thoughtfully, staring into the blinding confusion. "It shouldn't be able to do this."
"Not without help," Glinda said, and she and Elphaba exchanged meaningful looks.
"I don't suppose it's meant to be festive," Elphaba said, vainly wiping her fingertips across the window in case any of the fogginess was caused by condensation on the inside. It wasn't.
"I'm sure that's exactly what she'd say if we asked," Glinda said, pressing her own fingertips against the freezing cold window to feel the little thumps of thick, heavy snowflakes being blown against it. "But - a little light snow is festive, you know, enough to make everything pretty and hang on the trees a bit. Even in the furthest north this kind of storm is more the 'lock up the cattle and start praying' sort."
"Do you think there are any cattle left in the furthest north?" Elphaba asked idly. "Or have they all frozen already?"
"No idea," Glinda said, but thinking of the north for some reason reminded her of her parents - her father resting in the hospital tucked into the Gillikin hills. She wondered whether the hospital was entirely covered in snow yet, or if her mother would be able to make the journey to visit him through a storm like this.
As though Elphaba were reading her mind, she said just then, "The storm might only be here. Around the City."
"It's possible." Glinda gave herself a little shake, under the guise of shivering. "I wonder if she has the power to maintain something like this over a large distance. For all we know it's only happening on the palace."
"We certainly couldn't see anything different." Elphaba wiped her hand back and forth over the window again, mouth creasing in frustration even though she had to have known that wasn't going to make any difference in what she could see. The whirling snowstorm outside effectively cut them off from everything but what was inside.
Elphaba's thin shoulders trembled with cold then, and Glinda laid a hand on her back between the sharpness of her shoulder blades. "We won't figure it out any faster by freezing," she said.
"No," Elphaba conceded. "Tea, and the fire should be built up. The cat must be half icicle."
"I didn't see him by the fire." Distracted, Glinda wandered from Elphaba's room, arms wrapped tightly around herself. When she found the cat, however, she couldn't help laughing. "Elphie, come look."
"What?" Elphaba emerged with one arm in her dressing gown, the other arm flapping to retrieve the empty sleeve. As soon as she caught sight of the cat, she too laughed, the sound startling in the heavy, insulated silence. The kitten was on the windowsill, mesmerized by his first sight of falling snow. He leapt from side to side, lunging at the glass, trying to catch snowflakes and the shadows of snowflakes with tiny paws. "Well," Elphaba said, her other arm finally sliding into its sleeve, "I suppose he's keeping himself warm enough."
"Someone ought to have a good time," Glinda said, "but as for me . . ." She reached for a log from the wood scuttle and noticed there was only one more under it. "It's not like them to let the wood get this low," she commented as she carefully nudged the log onto the fire. Red sparks flew as her action stirred the embers. "Though I suppose everyone's been occupied with the Wizard's instructions, hanging holly from every corner."
"That, or Morrible wants us frozen."
"Thank you for that cheery thought," Glinda threw over her shoulder.
Elphaba gave her a half smile. "I'm putting on water."
"Thank you." Glinda went to her bedroom, pausing to smile for a moment as the kitten continued his antics, and wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her body. The gown had absorbed so much of the chill of the room that it added little warmth, but it wasn't warmth she was thinking of. She padded back across to the door of their suite and opened it just wide enough to lean her head and shoulders out. "So sorry," she said to the first Guard who caught her eye, "but would you mind telling them we need some more firewood?"
Glinda was smart enough to know that if many people had asked, most Guards would probably have sneered that they weren't domestic servants. For her this one merely blushed and nodded (of course if it had been Elphaba asking, sheer terror would probably also have produced a compliant response).
When she had the door closed again, Elphaba was just straightening up from hanging the kettle over the fire. "All right?" she asked.
Glinda nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and heading quickly for the warmth of the fire. "You any warmer?"
"Some." Elphaba watched closely as Glinda settled on the floor near the fire. "You look tired," she added.
"Thank you," Glinda said dryly, but her stomach had begun to turn over again. She rubbed her eyes to cover her discomfort. "The snow woke me."
Elphaba nodded, but she looked thoughtful.
~~Elphaba~~
Despite her worry that none of this could be happening for benign reasons, Elphaba had to admit that the Wizard's sudden fanaticism about Midwinter had turned the castle into something out of a fairy story wonderland. Holly looped across the walls and draped from the ceilings, even on the lonely stairwell that led only to their tower. In the bustling morning the regular lamps were lit, and bright sunshine filtered white by the swirling snow illuminated the corridors, but candelabras sat in sconces along the walls ready to impart a festival atmosphere to the evening. The holly in the corridor Elphaba was traversing now must have been freshly hung; there were bits of plant and stray red berries on the floor as if the housekeepers hadn't yet had time to sweep up.
The corridor turned onto another one which bordered an interior courtyard, one used to bring ceremonial visitors into the throne room. Elphaba paused as she rounded the corner, taking in the sight of a ringed cluster of pine trees circling around one much larger pine, all of them set with unlit candles and draped with holly berries. A white cloud hovered magically at the top of the courtyard, constantly dropping a light dusting of snow - far calmer than the maelstrom raging outside - onto the trees. Elphaba bit back a smile as she realized it was exactly as Glinda had described, just enough to make the trees look pretty.
Workmen in emerald overalls circled in and around the trees, some marking things off on clipboards, others trimming bits of branch or hanging extra berries. Elphaba blinked hard when, just as she stepped off the elevated corridor into the courtyard and heard the crunch of snow under her foot, she got a glimpse of a familiar face among the workers. His green hat was pulled down low, and the bulky overalls concealed his gait, but after another look as she watched him examine a tree she was quite sure. She pushed aside the wild thought that she could blow the whole thing apart with just one injudicious word (after all, it probably wasn't true - the Wizard was quite good at being believed, and she was not) and instead stepped further into the courtyard. The occasional snowflake landed on her nose as she wandered through the trees, but although the snow seemed to be real enough - it was cold, and melted when it hit her skin - the courtyard itself wasn't much colder than the corridor.
"Your Ozness," she whispered when she was standing directly behind the worker in question.
The green-clad shoulders stiffened with surprise, and then he turned, one hand pressed to his chest. "Good heavens," he whispered. "You gave me a start there."
"Sorry." Elphaba frowned as she got a good look at the Wizard's face. Even though he'd now recognized her, his expression was still stiff with something that she didn't think was nervousness about being discovered. "Is something wrong?"
"No! No, my dear, of course not." The Wizard's face slid neatly into its familiar expression of false cheer, though he appeared to be scrutinizing Elphaba closely. "Is there anything I can - do for you?"
Elphaba spoke warily, almost unconsciously returning his look of close scrutiny. "I only wanted to ask about the snow," she said. Both of their eyes flickered upward and then back to each other. "I mean the outside snow," she clarified. "I suppose Mor- Madame Morrible did this."
"Yes, she did." The Wizard tilted his head back this time to take a longer look at the magically floating cloud. "Nice, isn't it?"
"Glinda will be very proud." Elphaba pinched a pine branch between two fingers, snow melting onto her hand. "But, the outside snow."
"Rather sudden, isn't it?" the Wizard said, his voice trailing off into quiet momentarily as another of the workers came close. The Wizard deferentially touched his cap, but he needn't have bothered - the other worker had caught a glimpse of Elphaba and shuffled off, looking pale.
"Yes," Elphaba said slowly. "Strange, isn't it, that we were talking only last week about how odd it was that it had been too cold to snow for so long -"
"And now it has." The Wizard grinned. "Midwinter miracle?"
"I hardly think so," Elphaba said.
"I won't say you aren't cleverer than I am," the Wizard said, "but must we see conspiracy around every corner?"
"Frankly?" Elphaba said. "Yes."
The Wizard laughed a bit, then averted his eyes and turned his attention to straightening an errant holly strand. "It must be rather unpleasant at times to be so suspicious."
"Probably a bit safer, though." Suddenly feeling the need to prove a point - though exactly what that point was, she herself wasn't entirely sure - Elphaba twitched the ring finger of her right hand and sent the string of berries floating into an even line. "So you don't know anything about where the storm came from?"
The Wizard was blinking a bit wide-eyed at her handiwork, but he replied, "I don't. The weather has been so erratic lately - should I look into it?"
Elphaba hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "Honestly, I suspect it's better if you don't."
"Elphaba?" The Wizard stopped fiddling with holly and looked her in the eye. "Should I be worried?"
"I have no idea," she replied honestly. She backed up slightly, watching as a subtle relaxation came over his features. "I should let you - er -"
"Thank you," he said, the somewhat false smile taking over his face once more. "I like to, you know, be a bit hands-on sometimes. Make sure it's done right. You know what they say."
"Yes," Elphaba said, looking around to take in the scene a final time.
"Thank you for -" He winked, and pulled his cap down over his face.
"Right." Elphaba gave him a small wave. "I'll be going."
"I will see you tomorrow night," the Wizard said with a nod.
Snow continued to crunch under her boots as Elphaba crossed the courtyard again, but no more seemed to have accumulated. She suspected it was enchanted to lay only in a light dusting and not to pile up otherwise. If Madame Morrible was indeed maintaining the storm outside in addition to creating this display indoors, it was indeed an impressive show of power and control.
Only moments after Elphaba was back up in the corridor and striding past the emerald pillars that separated it from the courtyard, she heard her name called. She turned quickly to see Fiyero hurrying to catch up with her.
"You have snow in your hair," he said when he had gotten close enough not to shout.
She ran a hand over her head and felt the cold wetness. "It'll melt." Reflexively she looked over between the pillars to the indoor snow scene.
Fiyero followed her glance. "Interesting," he said.
"Yes," Elphaba said. "I'm not entirely sure whether it was Glinda's idea, or just her fault."
He laughed, then said quietly, "I have a message for you."
"You do?"
He took her arm and led her down the corridor, away from the courtyard, whispering low. "Rikk wants to see you. He got a message in this morning."
Elphaba glanced over at one of the windows as they passed it, taking in the mad whirls of snow that still swirled outside it. "How?"
"It's not as bad once you get a few blocks from the Palace," Fiyero muttered, still in an undertone. "I was out last night after it started. With the men, I mean. Patrolling."
"So it really is only snowing on the palace?" Elphaba whispered harshly.
"No, it's snowing everywhere - well, I mean, everywhere I could see - but it's only around the palace that it's so hard to see through. It's a pretty ordinary storm everywhere else."
"So where is Rikk?"
They turned a corner, and he glanced around before answering. "At a pub in town. Can you get out?"
They were passing another window, and Elphaba cast it a sideways look. "Can I?"
"Most likely, as far as the snow is concerned."
"Then I can find a way. When?"
"Tomorrow night. He knows about the party, he asked if you could get away in the commotion."
"Probably," Elphaba whispered. "Glinda too?"
"He didn't ask for her, and frankly she's more likely to be missed."
"Rather unfair as it's her idea," Elphaba mused. "But you're right, at a party people will be expecting to see her. Me, they'll be equally expecting to hide in the shadows or show up and hex everything in sight."
"I'll tell him yes then?" Fiyero whispered. "Messengers are getting out all right."
"But -"
"Just a quick hello to my old roommate, nothing suspicious about that."
"I suppose." Elphaba nodded. "Tell him yes."
"Good." Fiyero came to a stop, still gripping her arm, at the next turning. "Where were you actually going?"
Elphaba blinked at the wall in front of her, which she had passed on her way down. "In the complete opposite direction."
Fiyero gave a short laugh. "Sorry. I have to report in, I'll see you later."
"Right." She watched him take off down the left corridor, then turned with a sigh and headed back the way they'd come.
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG
'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: The plot thickens, again.
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, plus the posted chapters of this story, can be found here. The previous chapter of this story can be found here.
Even More Notes: Welcome back from the Christmas hiatus. We now return to our regularly scheduled updating.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda was in such turmoil by the morning before the big Midwinter celebration that when she woke in a hazy fog of white light it almost seemed to make sense. She'd spent the past days in a nearly dreamlike state anyway, a little lightheaded and a little frail, always feeling as if something were about to pop out from around a corner and startle her. She spent half her time watching Elphaba, but her roommate seemed separated from her in a way by the veil that now surrounded Glinda - although, to be fair, that same veil made Glinda feel equally separated from everyone else in the waking world.
So, for the first few moments of that morning she only blinked into the whitish glow around her, not even attempting to clear the fog from her mind. It took her a while to see the bits of shadow dancing, and to realize that most of the glowing haze was composed of motes of dust in unnaturally bright light. Her head still somewhat confused by sleep, she pushed back the blankets and slid her feet down to the floor, habit sending her searching for her slippers with one foot without even wincing as her feet touched the freezing floorboards.
By the time she was brushing aside the curtain she had already found enough clarity to see what was going on, but she stood for a moment staring at the blinding whiteness that surrounded the palace and seemed to hem in her window with a solid column of wind. Then she dropped the curtain and ran for Elphaba's room. She knocked, but receiving no answer carefully opened the door and slipped in.
Elphaba was uncharacteristically still asleep, and Glinda had to call her name several times, gently shaking Elphaba's shoulder, to wake her. Once she was awake, however, she was almost instantly alarmed. She looked as though she would have sat up straight, except that she was alert enough to have figured out that this would involve knocking her head against Glinda's. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Something strange is happening," Glinda told her. "Look."
Elphaba was already squinting in the brightness of the morning. "What's so white?"
Glinda almost smiled at Elphaba's confusion, which so mirrored her own a few moments ago. But she still felt that something was wrong, or at the very least extremely strange. "It's snowing. Look."
Frowning, Elphaba extracted herself from the bedclothes and slid sideways, avoiding banging into Glinda as they both went to the window. Elphaba barely seemed to notice the cold of the floor under her feet. "Is it any warmer?" she asked as they crossed the room.
"Doesn't feel like it to me," Glinda said. She pushed one curtain out of the way as Elphaba reached for the other.
"Me either," Elphaba said thoughtfully, staring into the blinding confusion. "It shouldn't be able to do this."
"Not without help," Glinda said, and she and Elphaba exchanged meaningful looks.
"I don't suppose it's meant to be festive," Elphaba said, vainly wiping her fingertips across the window in case any of the fogginess was caused by condensation on the inside. It wasn't.
"I'm sure that's exactly what she'd say if we asked," Glinda said, pressing her own fingertips against the freezing cold window to feel the little thumps of thick, heavy snowflakes being blown against it. "But - a little light snow is festive, you know, enough to make everything pretty and hang on the trees a bit. Even in the furthest north this kind of storm is more the 'lock up the cattle and start praying' sort."
"Do you think there are any cattle left in the furthest north?" Elphaba asked idly. "Or have they all frozen already?"
"No idea," Glinda said, but thinking of the north for some reason reminded her of her parents - her father resting in the hospital tucked into the Gillikin hills. She wondered whether the hospital was entirely covered in snow yet, or if her mother would be able to make the journey to visit him through a storm like this.
As though Elphaba were reading her mind, she said just then, "The storm might only be here. Around the City."
"It's possible." Glinda gave herself a little shake, under the guise of shivering. "I wonder if she has the power to maintain something like this over a large distance. For all we know it's only happening on the palace."
"We certainly couldn't see anything different." Elphaba wiped her hand back and forth over the window again, mouth creasing in frustration even though she had to have known that wasn't going to make any difference in what she could see. The whirling snowstorm outside effectively cut them off from everything but what was inside.
Elphaba's thin shoulders trembled with cold then, and Glinda laid a hand on her back between the sharpness of her shoulder blades. "We won't figure it out any faster by freezing," she said.
"No," Elphaba conceded. "Tea, and the fire should be built up. The cat must be half icicle."
"I didn't see him by the fire." Distracted, Glinda wandered from Elphaba's room, arms wrapped tightly around herself. When she found the cat, however, she couldn't help laughing. "Elphie, come look."
"What?" Elphaba emerged with one arm in her dressing gown, the other arm flapping to retrieve the empty sleeve. As soon as she caught sight of the cat, she too laughed, the sound startling in the heavy, insulated silence. The kitten was on the windowsill, mesmerized by his first sight of falling snow. He leapt from side to side, lunging at the glass, trying to catch snowflakes and the shadows of snowflakes with tiny paws. "Well," Elphaba said, her other arm finally sliding into its sleeve, "I suppose he's keeping himself warm enough."
"Someone ought to have a good time," Glinda said, "but as for me . . ." She reached for a log from the wood scuttle and noticed there was only one more under it. "It's not like them to let the wood get this low," she commented as she carefully nudged the log onto the fire. Red sparks flew as her action stirred the embers. "Though I suppose everyone's been occupied with the Wizard's instructions, hanging holly from every corner."
"That, or Morrible wants us frozen."
"Thank you for that cheery thought," Glinda threw over her shoulder.
Elphaba gave her a half smile. "I'm putting on water."
"Thank you." Glinda went to her bedroom, pausing to smile for a moment as the kitten continued his antics, and wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her body. The gown had absorbed so much of the chill of the room that it added little warmth, but it wasn't warmth she was thinking of. She padded back across to the door of their suite and opened it just wide enough to lean her head and shoulders out. "So sorry," she said to the first Guard who caught her eye, "but would you mind telling them we need some more firewood?"
Glinda was smart enough to know that if many people had asked, most Guards would probably have sneered that they weren't domestic servants. For her this one merely blushed and nodded (of course if it had been Elphaba asking, sheer terror would probably also have produced a compliant response).
When she had the door closed again, Elphaba was just straightening up from hanging the kettle over the fire. "All right?" she asked.
Glinda nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and heading quickly for the warmth of the fire. "You any warmer?"
"Some." Elphaba watched closely as Glinda settled on the floor near the fire. "You look tired," she added.
"Thank you," Glinda said dryly, but her stomach had begun to turn over again. She rubbed her eyes to cover her discomfort. "The snow woke me."
Elphaba nodded, but she looked thoughtful.
~~Elphaba~~
Despite her worry that none of this could be happening for benign reasons, Elphaba had to admit that the Wizard's sudden fanaticism about Midwinter had turned the castle into something out of a fairy story wonderland. Holly looped across the walls and draped from the ceilings, even on the lonely stairwell that led only to their tower. In the bustling morning the regular lamps were lit, and bright sunshine filtered white by the swirling snow illuminated the corridors, but candelabras sat in sconces along the walls ready to impart a festival atmosphere to the evening. The holly in the corridor Elphaba was traversing now must have been freshly hung; there were bits of plant and stray red berries on the floor as if the housekeepers hadn't yet had time to sweep up.
The corridor turned onto another one which bordered an interior courtyard, one used to bring ceremonial visitors into the throne room. Elphaba paused as she rounded the corner, taking in the sight of a ringed cluster of pine trees circling around one much larger pine, all of them set with unlit candles and draped with holly berries. A white cloud hovered magically at the top of the courtyard, constantly dropping a light dusting of snow - far calmer than the maelstrom raging outside - onto the trees. Elphaba bit back a smile as she realized it was exactly as Glinda had described, just enough to make the trees look pretty.
Workmen in emerald overalls circled in and around the trees, some marking things off on clipboards, others trimming bits of branch or hanging extra berries. Elphaba blinked hard when, just as she stepped off the elevated corridor into the courtyard and heard the crunch of snow under her foot, she got a glimpse of a familiar face among the workers. His green hat was pulled down low, and the bulky overalls concealed his gait, but after another look as she watched him examine a tree she was quite sure. She pushed aside the wild thought that she could blow the whole thing apart with just one injudicious word (after all, it probably wasn't true - the Wizard was quite good at being believed, and she was not) and instead stepped further into the courtyard. The occasional snowflake landed on her nose as she wandered through the trees, but although the snow seemed to be real enough - it was cold, and melted when it hit her skin - the courtyard itself wasn't much colder than the corridor.
"Your Ozness," she whispered when she was standing directly behind the worker in question.
The green-clad shoulders stiffened with surprise, and then he turned, one hand pressed to his chest. "Good heavens," he whispered. "You gave me a start there."
"Sorry." Elphaba frowned as she got a good look at the Wizard's face. Even though he'd now recognized her, his expression was still stiff with something that she didn't think was nervousness about being discovered. "Is something wrong?"
"No! No, my dear, of course not." The Wizard's face slid neatly into its familiar expression of false cheer, though he appeared to be scrutinizing Elphaba closely. "Is there anything I can - do for you?"
Elphaba spoke warily, almost unconsciously returning his look of close scrutiny. "I only wanted to ask about the snow," she said. Both of their eyes flickered upward and then back to each other. "I mean the outside snow," she clarified. "I suppose Mor- Madame Morrible did this."
"Yes, she did." The Wizard tilted his head back this time to take a longer look at the magically floating cloud. "Nice, isn't it?"
"Glinda will be very proud." Elphaba pinched a pine branch between two fingers, snow melting onto her hand. "But, the outside snow."
"Rather sudden, isn't it?" the Wizard said, his voice trailing off into quiet momentarily as another of the workers came close. The Wizard deferentially touched his cap, but he needn't have bothered - the other worker had caught a glimpse of Elphaba and shuffled off, looking pale.
"Yes," Elphaba said slowly. "Strange, isn't it, that we were talking only last week about how odd it was that it had been too cold to snow for so long -"
"And now it has." The Wizard grinned. "Midwinter miracle?"
"I hardly think so," Elphaba said.
"I won't say you aren't cleverer than I am," the Wizard said, "but must we see conspiracy around every corner?"
"Frankly?" Elphaba said. "Yes."
The Wizard laughed a bit, then averted his eyes and turned his attention to straightening an errant holly strand. "It must be rather unpleasant at times to be so suspicious."
"Probably a bit safer, though." Suddenly feeling the need to prove a point - though exactly what that point was, she herself wasn't entirely sure - Elphaba twitched the ring finger of her right hand and sent the string of berries floating into an even line. "So you don't know anything about where the storm came from?"
The Wizard was blinking a bit wide-eyed at her handiwork, but he replied, "I don't. The weather has been so erratic lately - should I look into it?"
Elphaba hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "Honestly, I suspect it's better if you don't."
"Elphaba?" The Wizard stopped fiddling with holly and looked her in the eye. "Should I be worried?"
"I have no idea," she replied honestly. She backed up slightly, watching as a subtle relaxation came over his features. "I should let you - er -"
"Thank you," he said, the somewhat false smile taking over his face once more. "I like to, you know, be a bit hands-on sometimes. Make sure it's done right. You know what they say."
"Yes," Elphaba said, looking around to take in the scene a final time.
"Thank you for -" He winked, and pulled his cap down over his face.
"Right." Elphaba gave him a small wave. "I'll be going."
"I will see you tomorrow night," the Wizard said with a nod.
Snow continued to crunch under her boots as Elphaba crossed the courtyard again, but no more seemed to have accumulated. She suspected it was enchanted to lay only in a light dusting and not to pile up otherwise. If Madame Morrible was indeed maintaining the storm outside in addition to creating this display indoors, it was indeed an impressive show of power and control.
Only moments after Elphaba was back up in the corridor and striding past the emerald pillars that separated it from the courtyard, she heard her name called. She turned quickly to see Fiyero hurrying to catch up with her.
"You have snow in your hair," he said when he had gotten close enough not to shout.
She ran a hand over her head and felt the cold wetness. "It'll melt." Reflexively she looked over between the pillars to the indoor snow scene.
Fiyero followed her glance. "Interesting," he said.
"Yes," Elphaba said. "I'm not entirely sure whether it was Glinda's idea, or just her fault."
He laughed, then said quietly, "I have a message for you."
"You do?"
He took her arm and led her down the corridor, away from the courtyard, whispering low. "Rikk wants to see you. He got a message in this morning."
Elphaba glanced over at one of the windows as they passed it, taking in the mad whirls of snow that still swirled outside it. "How?"
"It's not as bad once you get a few blocks from the Palace," Fiyero muttered, still in an undertone. "I was out last night after it started. With the men, I mean. Patrolling."
"So it really is only snowing on the palace?" Elphaba whispered harshly.
"No, it's snowing everywhere - well, I mean, everywhere I could see - but it's only around the palace that it's so hard to see through. It's a pretty ordinary storm everywhere else."
"So where is Rikk?"
They turned a corner, and he glanced around before answering. "At a pub in town. Can you get out?"
They were passing another window, and Elphaba cast it a sideways look. "Can I?"
"Most likely, as far as the snow is concerned."
"Then I can find a way. When?"
"Tomorrow night. He knows about the party, he asked if you could get away in the commotion."
"Probably," Elphaba whispered. "Glinda too?"
"He didn't ask for her, and frankly she's more likely to be missed."
"Rather unfair as it's her idea," Elphaba mused. "But you're right, at a party people will be expecting to see her. Me, they'll be equally expecting to hide in the shadows or show up and hex everything in sight."
"I'll tell him yes then?" Fiyero whispered. "Messengers are getting out all right."
"But -"
"Just a quick hello to my old roommate, nothing suspicious about that."
"I suppose." Elphaba nodded. "Tell him yes."
"Good." Fiyero came to a stop, still gripping her arm, at the next turning. "Where were you actually going?"
Elphaba blinked at the wall in front of her, which she had passed on her way down. "In the complete opposite direction."
Fiyero gave a short laugh. "Sorry. I have to report in, I'll see you later."
"Right." She watched him take off down the left corridor, then turned with a sigh and headed back the way they'd come.