Chapter 16
Despite everything, once Elphaba went back to classes, the world seemed to reset. She spent her hours in the garden, far from Glinda and their shared space. It didn’t stop Fiyero’s linger glances during class, or in the dining halls. Several times he had tried to talk to her, and each time, she found a way to strategically turn a corner and disappear.
“That’s a rather foul way to use invisibility spells.”
Rain caught Elphaba in the shared space of the woman’s dorms. Lox laid at her feet, like the foot solider he swore he wasn’t. Elphaba was avoiding more than her fair share of people. She had hoped if she continued on the way she had been, then maybe Rain would just leave. Of course, that had been wishful thinking.
“He’s persistent,” Elphaba reasoned. “Irritatingly so. He acts like he isn’t the one who rejected me.”
“He didn’t reject you.”
“Yes, and you know all about my interpersonal relationships.” Elphaba’s voice edge on a sneer.
“When other parties come to my door asking for advice,” Rain retorted. “Yes, I do have some knowledge.”
Fiyero had gone to Rain? About her? What in Lurline’s name was that boy thinking. Elphaba took in a ragged breath. Letting go of the fight her body felt so posed for, she sat down next to Rain.
“Glinda came by as well,” Rain added. “They are worried about you.”
“Only to the extent they feel responsible for me,” Elphaba insisted.
Rain shook her head. She wore a face so familiar to Elphaba. One of frustration and disappointment.
“Sometimes I forget how deep your wounds run, Miss Thropp.”
“Don’t call me that,” Elphaba practically growled. “That’s not my name.”
“It’s one of the many names you’ll find yourself carrying throughout your life,” Rain said. “You didn’t die that day in the river, and neither did she. Until you come to terms with that, you will never find peace.”
Elphaba refused to hear it. Rain always though she knew best. Elphaba hadn’t stayed with her to heal some emotional tears in her heart. She stayed to learn how to control her wayward magic before it led to her hurting someone, truly and irrecoverably. How that had ended with her as Rain’s named protégé was beyond the young witch, and something she never asked for. She never wanted any of this.
“Phabala,” Lox said, able to hear the way her heartbeat skyrocketed. “No one is trying to hurt you.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she snarled back. “You think I don’t know that I am far to defensive and paranoid for my own good? I am well aware of the fault in my being. All I ask is that you know well enough not to try and fix it.”
A silence fell across the room. It had been a while since things had been so tense between Rain and Elphaba. There had been some comfort in the pattern they had built in the Emerald city, a familiarity that had Elphaba far more open than she was now. Rain could feel it, her magic and emotions all twisted in knots. It wasn’t that she didn’t expect such a thing, though she had hoped the transition would have been less severe.
“They care for you deeply Elphaba,” Rain said. “And I can’t help but think that it isn’t a fear of vulnerability that has you pushing them away, but a feeling that you aren’t worthy of such affection.”
“I’ve had no lack of affection in my life, Rain,” Elphaba retorted. “In fact, last I recall you were asking me to keep such things at a lower volume.”
The elder witch shook her head at the girl, not even bothering to touch of the blatant misinterpretation of her words. Lox let out a grumble, as if to voice his own displeasure at the statement but said nothing.
“Now if we are done with this rather drab discussion, we have more important things to talk about,” Elphaba began. “I had a dream, although I don’t think it was a dream. Everything was hazy and blurry, but there were two people. They were talking about curses, and the Vinkus. I think they mean to stage a hostile takeover.”
Rain nodded. She didn’t doubt Elphaba’s clairvoyance, even if she never made a big up to do about it. Such things never ended well. Those who specialized in telling the future often lost their minds to, unable to tell what was, what is, and what may be. Still, it was a natural talent, and so very rare at that.
“I don’t doubt you,” Rain assured. “I’ll send notice to Ozma and the King. Whoever is behind this is no novice though. Their spells have no trace, and they are simple, yet strong. They are smart as well, to use curses of probability. If it hadn’t been for your intervention, they likely would have gone unnoticed as anything other than tragic accidents.”
“So, what do we do?”
“You do nothing,” Lox said. “You are not a cardinal witch, nor a soldier or advisor. Not to mention you are still recovering.
“You can’t be serious?” Elphaba said, looking between the lion and Rain. “This is far more important than sorcery classes I’m miles ahead of and a history class I’ve already learned directly from those who survived it!”
Rain put her hand up, waiting for silence before she responded. Elphaba was always like this, so rash, and yet she always seemed to find a way to justify it.
“I’ll hear no more of it. There isn’t much more to be done as it stands, anyways. We can discuss next steps when you return to the emerald city for Winter break.”
“Whatever,” Elphaba mumbled. “If that’s what you want.”
Then she stood up, leaving the witch and the lion to their own devices as she stomped back to her room.
At least it was a Friday. Pfannee and ShenShen were already in the room, giggling with Glinda as they decided what outfits to go out in that night. Elphaba came in like a storm, slamming the door as she threw her bag on the bed. Then she found herself standing in front of her desk, huffing and puffing but unsure what to do next. She couldn’t take out her lyre with Glinda’s posse right behind her, nor did she feel like doing anything else productive, like reading or classwork. Her mind was far to preoccupied.
“Elphie,” Glinda said, far to preppy and cheery for Elphaba’s liking. “Would you like to join us tonight at the OzDust. I know Fiyero has been dying to talk to you.”
“I’m busy tonight.”
Glinda’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, clearly understanding what Elphaba planned to spend her evening doing.
“Well, I hope you have a wonderful time,” Glinda said. “Maybe you’ll even see some familiar faces.”
“That is entirely up to others,” Elphaba rested on the edge of her mattress, not willing to look at Glinda directly.
She had said they could come. No part of her had the want or the will to rescind the invitation. It wasn’t like she would have to talk to Fiyero either. It would be easy enough to disappear into the back as she had been doing all this week. She would go to the Ruby Raven that night and sing, and it wouldn’t matter who was in the audience or if they were there for her. All that matter was that she was there with her lyre and her voice.
--
There was a knot growing deep in Fiyero’s gut as Glinda pulled him through the alley ways and to the door of the Ruby Raven. It was rather impressive that she remembered each and every turn, and then Fiyero reminded himself that airy and dumb were not necessarily synonyms, as Glinda had more than proved.
“I don’t know if we should be here,” Fiyero expressed his concerns. “This is something special to Elphaba, and whatever happened, it feels too fresh.”
“Oh, my adorable prince,” Glinda laughed, rolling her eyes. “Elphaba is very defensive. If she didn’t want us here, she would have made it beyond clear earlier today. She wants us here, whether she’ll admit it or not.”
Fiyero studied Glinda, truly for the first time since everything. The bounce of her blonde curls, the beauty of her eyes that shining like starlight. It was a different beauty to Elphaba’s, but one he admired, nonetheless. Her confidence and drive were nothing to laugh at either. He could only imagine how much easier life might be if he had such traits.
When the man opened the door, he spoke in the Quadling language, and Fiyero replied in the Yumish dialect of Vinkun. The door opened quickly enough, and they walked in. The bouncer kept a wary eye on Glinda but did not try to stop them. The two found a seat at a torn-up booth in the back, and Fiyero bought them watered down Gin and tonic. They made it through two cups, and just as Fiyero was beginning to doubt Elphaba would appear, she jumped on stage, in her beautifully mismatched dress and emerald boots.
“Well, hello everybody,” she coyly called to the crowd, who responded with a thunderous roar. “It’s been far too long. I had a bit of an accident and was laid out. But I’m back and better than ever!”
“Let’s hear it then,” a voice from the crowd yelled.
“Yeah, sing for us Mossy,” another joined in.
Elphaba took in the room, a smile wide on her face till her eyes met the booth. Fiyero’s eyes met hers and she swore they burned. On the other side, Glinda sat, dressed in a ridiculous pink dress that was far too out of place in the Ruby Raven. She was genuinely excited though, and it warmed Elphaba, if only a little.
“This one’s called The Ballad of the Wicked Witch.”
She strummed her Lyre twice, testing it. Then she launched into a folk sounding melody, letting it drift through the room as she kicked her feet against the floor.
- I’m not trying,
- To become,
- More than I am,
- More than I was.
- I won’t try,
- To change my fate.
- I’ll be the witch,
- You’ve need to hate.
.
- Ooh
- Ooh
.
The tune was deceptively chipper. If one wasn’t paying attention, they might have found the song to be joyful even. The lyrics though, darkened the song itself. He wondered if Elphaba ever wrote something it didn’t ache to listen to. It was a silly question to ask, considering he already knew the answer.
- In the dead of night,
- When none are awake,
- I’ll hear the words you love say.
.
- “It’s just the price,
- That the wicked pay.
- And no one will mourn,
- On her judgment day.
- I know she’ll reap,
- All that she’s sown.
- That when her time is up,
- She’ll die alone.”
- I won’t reach the end,
- Of the yellow brick road,
- Won’t find my heart desire,
- To carry on home.
- I’ll find my peace,
- In the cold hard ground.
- Not in the word of the unnamed God,
- Who I’ve denounced.
- When my time has comes,
- I’ll melt away.
- They’ll be nothing left to save.
- Ooh
- Ooh
Fiyero knew the story well enough, of the Witch of the West, melted by the girl form a faraway land. He didn’t care much for it, nor did the majority of the Vinkus. He wasn’t paying nearly as close attention to the lyrics anymore. Instead, he found the Candence of her voice drumming against his ears, vibrating against his chest. He watched the sway of her hips, the harsh kick of her feet. Then he was picturing the feel of her lips, of how tight her grip was when she pulled him close on the messed sheets.
- A lily grows,
- On the wicked’s grave.
- Just to be trampled,
- By the feet of saints.
- And for all that guilt,
- You carry ‘round,
- It’ll keep you up at night,
- Till the day your breath runs out.
- And when you ask.
- why this pain won’t go,
- You’ll hear a voice,
- From long ago.
- “It’s just the price,
- That the wicked pay.
- And no one will mourn,
- On your judgment day.
- I know you’ll reap,
- All that you’ve sown.
- That when your time is up,
- You’ll die alone.”
The music went on for a time after that, boots continuing to kick and stomp as Elphaba danced. When it finally quieted, someone in the crowd yelled for another song. Elphaba started up again, and Fiyero and Glinda once again watched, unable to take their eyes from her. Every movement, every word, every strum of the lyre, it all was agonizing. Fiyero couldn’t tell if it was a gift or torture when it finally ended, four songs later.
Glinda watch Fiyero on the way back to Shiz. She noticed the way his breath labored, how he insensately tapped his foot in the carriage. There was a heat in his eyes, one she was all too familiar with. She took his hand as they walked through the dorms, though Fiyero hadn’t payed attention to the fact that they turned into the men’s dorms and not the woman’s. They stopped at his door, but he didn’t open it, even after her heard the click that told him it was unlocked.
“You aren’t the only one, you know,” Glinda said to him. “She’s beautiful, and when she dances and sings with all that energy, it isn’t just my thoughts she sets on fire.”
“Some days I close my eyes and it’s all that I can think about,” Fiyero admitted. “It’s torture. I’ve thought of finding comfort elsewhere, but it doesn’t seem right. To be with someone else when all I can think of is…”
Glinda nodded, understanding completely. She found herself far less interested in partners as the school semester went on. It had felt far too cruel, when she would wake up in after dreams, she’d rather not think of, only to see the source of her desires sound asleep across the room. Unlike Fiyero, Glinda didn’t have access to the small mercy of relieving himself of the built-up tension. She couldn’t think to do such a thing in the same dorm room as the person who she dreamed of in such an intimate way.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Glinda said without much thought to the implications. “I would be thinking of her as much as I would of you.”
The words sent a shiver through his spine, one that grew as Glinda placed her hand on his shoulder, letting it run down his back slowly. She wasn’t new to this and had far too much fun in school for her parent’s liking, she assumed. She could feel it though, how tense the Vinkun Prince was, how much he denied himself in the name of good morals.
Glinda watched as he pushed the door open, stumbling slightly into the room. Fiyero didn’t stop her from following. He had wound himself so tightly. Glinda could feel it in the muscles of his back, in the heat at his core, and the way the fabric pulled tight against his hips.
“Would you think of me to?” Glinda asked. “Both me and her.”
Fiyero felt as the blonde stood on her toes, placing kisses against the back on his neck. Every inch of his body was shaking as he felt pull away and shut the door. then she was in front of him, gently grasping his hand and leading him towards the bed.
“You’re beautiful Glinda,” he whispered. “How could I not.”
His hands found the buttons of her dress, undoing them with an ease that left Glinda impressed. Obviously, he had his share of fun, she assumed. His shirt followed, then his pants. Undergarments vanished. Glinda didn’t know exactly how she ended up on the bed, Fiyero pulling off her thigh-highs off with his teeth. She certainly couldn’t recall any of the preamble when his head made a place between her legs, alternating between sweet strokes of his tongue inside and out, and the maddening way he sucked on the bundle of nerves. She fell over the edge twice like that.
Glinda knew the second time he was picturing a different set of legs wrapped around him. It was clear in how he grabbed her, sinking his nails into her hips so tight she knew they would bruise. She had the same face in her mind when she reached her high.
There was always a question of what to expect behind closed doors. Men with confidence often floundered once they lost their clothes. Some acted harsh and cold, but had the gentlest touch, and other had handled her with such a lack of care that she left before they even finished. She wondered how the prince might be, long before she had gotten so close as to see the inside of his bedroom.
Rough hadn’t been the answer she expected. The way he climbed on top of her, forcing her legs apart. He let his weight fall into her, pushing her thighs against her chest as he thrusted inwards. She let out a moan, a biting pain somehow a sweet mix to the pleasure. He waited a second, a moment to make sure that she was feeling the same pleasure he was. When their eyes met, she nodded. What followed was an unyielding pace. On particularly hard thrusts, Glinda closed her eyes, and tresses of red curls filled her vision. Her body tightened at the thought, winding up and up until she inevitably snapped. Glinda hadn’t meant to cry out her name, but she did all the same. Fiyero lost all semblance of control after that moment, and before long he harshly pulled away, his release splattering against the back of her thigh. His whispered a word in a language she didn’t understand, but it wasn’t hard to tell he was cursing.
He barely took a minute for himself before heading towards the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth. Glinda wasn’t used to such care afterwards, and for a moment she was confused as he the mess in between and on the back of her legs. She certainly didn’t expect him to wrap her so gently in his arms and hold her so close as they fell asleep beneath the comforter. With how Fiyero had talked of Elphaba, she assumed he would offer her his shower and then show her the door. That the two of them had agreed to help an ache and now that it was satisfied, they should both be on their way.
“I didn’t mean to say her name,” Glinda apologized. “It just came out.”
“Don’t be sorry. Knowing you were thinking about her too, feeling your body react to the thought…It made a mess of me.”
They stayed silent for a while after that. Glinda didn’t understand exactly what he meant. She was far too hazy to think about it either, the post-orgasmic high well and truly set it.
“We’ll have to get up early to avoid Shell hearing anything,” Fiyero suggested. “But I’m not opposed to staying in bed till long he and Avaric have left for breakfast. It would give us plenty of time to shower.”
That was usually some point after eleven, if Glinda had any good sense of when the man finally arrived in the dining hall on the weekends. What she was more concerned with was how he spoke, clearly planning on leaving for breakfast with her. She felt the press of his lips at the top of her back, the smooth circles he drew against her thigh. He cared, she realized, about her. It hadn’t been a lie, when he said he was thinking of them both. Glinda hadn’t expected that of him, not really.
She certainly didn’t know what to do now that she knew Fiyero had told her the truth.