The Effects of Gravity 17/? by ainsleyaisling
Title: The Effects of Gravity 17/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Morrible may be untrustworthy, and no one is surprised.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Previous section can be found here.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda and Elphaba both had a bad night. Elphaba alternated between unresponsiveness and bouts of delirium (although Glinda's greatest secret fear was that it might not really be delirium, that Elphaba might be right) in which she clutched Glinda's arm and looked at her with unseeing eyes as she warned her that Morrible was trying to corrupt her. By morning - after near-constant applications of cold cloths and long periods of shivering when Elphaba, despite the heat radiating from her skin, clung to Glinda as if she were freezing to death - it seemed that Elphaba had grown a bit cooler. She had slept a little without being disturbed by shivering or shaking, and the color of her skin seemed a bit better. But it was obvious that she was still feverish, still uncomfortable, and still very ill. By an hour or so after dawn, Glinda had settled on what she thought had to be the best possible solution. She dressed hastily, threw on Elphaba's cloak to conceal the fact that she hadn't taken much care with her appearance, and hurried as quickly as she could to the infirmary.
"I think I'm coming down with a cold," she told the matron as earnestly as she could, adding a little cough into her hand for effect. "I think I can still attend classes, but is there anything you could give me for the fever?"
"Poor thing," the matron cooed, patting her on the arm. Her brightly curious eyes probed Glinda sympathetically, reaching, seemingly, deep inside her. "Let me get you something that you can take back to your room . . ."
Glinda settled onto a chair, feeling deeply cared for, relaxed, safe, a little sleepy, a little foggy. She watched the matron take an empty vial from her stores and then reach into the furthest-back corners of one of her cabinets to fill the vial with white powder. "You can mix this with water or tea, dear," the matron said as she worked. "It should make everything much better. I'm so glad you came to see me."
Something she would later think of as no less than miraculous pricked at the back of Glinda's mind - Elphaba's frightened face, the unnaturally peaceful feeling that had come over her when the matron began speaking, the same strange loss of control over her own emotions that she had felt in the Wizard's palace . . .
Why did something as common as a fever remedy come from such a tiny jar in the back of a cupboard?
Glinda swallowed as the matron pressed the vial into her hands. The woman's smile was knowing, as if she were aware of exactly why Glinda had come. "There you are, dear," she said. "You get on back to your dormitory and everything will be fine." Her eyes brushed over Elphaba's cloak, which was rather too long to belong to Glinda, with a deep curiosity.
Glinda put the vial deep into her skirt pocket. "Thank you," she said. "I'll take it right away."
The matron smiled. "Good."
Glinda thought carefully all the way back to the dormitory, and it seemed to her that she had only one option left - or two, really, but the second involved leaving Elphaba long enough to go into town, and she didn't want to do that. She knocked on Madame Greyling's door and schooled her face into an expression of unease and discomfort - it wasn't hard.
"Miss Glinda," Madame Greyling said with some surprise. "Is anything the matter?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you so early," Glinda said, although Madame was clearly already up and ready for the day. "But it's just -" she glanced around her and lowered her voice, "I'm having some - female - discomfort, and I can't go to the infirmary - you understand - I was just wondering whether you had anything on hand I might - take . . ."
The headmistress clucked sympathetically and opened her door wider. "Of course I understand, dear. When I moved into the dormitory Madame Morrible advised me to have on hand a supply of things you young ladies might need, in an emergency - I have just the thing."
The mention of Madame Morrible made Glinda nervous, but Madame Greyling had never given her that feeling of distrust that Morrible inspired. She had to hope this was the right thing to do - the apothecary in town wouldn't be open for hours yet . . . at least Madame Greyling was pouring something from a very ordinary bottle that she had taken from her desk drawer, with a very ordinary label on it that professed itself to be the kind of medicine Glinda wanted.
"Here you are," Madame said, capping off the vial and handing it to Glinda. "That ought to be enough for a day or so."
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Glinda ducked out of the room and hurried back upstairs, terrified that she would find Elphaba worse. Elphaba was asleep, however, exactly where Glinda had left her, and her temperature seemed about the same.
Glinda set the vial Madame Greyling had given her on the table and cast the occasional nervous glance at it while she set about making tea. The other vial, the one from the matron, burned a hole in her pocket - she wondered whether there was any spell in their sorcery text to find out exactly what it was. It would probably have to wait until Elphaba was well - unless, of course, Glinda was about to poison her. If Madame Greyling's vial was tainted as well - as Glinda now assumed the matron's was - well . . .
She made the tea tepid on purpose and filled a cup, tipping a spoon's worth of Madame's powder into it. After looking into the cup for a long moment, making up her mind, she took a cautious sip from it and waited. It tasted all right, if a little bitter. Nothing dramatic happened. She didn't feel any different.
She perched on the side of Elphaba's bed and shook her gently with the hand that wasn't holding the tea. "Elphie?" she called softly. "You need to wake up for a moment and drink this, it'll make you feel better."
Elphaba's dark eyes, when they opened, were glazed but coherent. "What is it?" she asked in a raspy whisper.
Glinda hesitated for the space of a breath. "Tea," she said. "Just tea. You haven't had anything to drink since yesterday. Come on, I'll help you sit up." Holding the teacup carefully away from herself with a steady arm, she slipped the other one under Elphaba's shoulders and propped her up. When Elphaba seemed ready she held the teacup to her lips and waited as Elphaba lifted one hand to steady it. "Go on," Glinda said. "As much as you can manage." She kept one hand under the teacup to help with its weight; the other stroked Elphaba's hair back from her face as Glinda watched her drink the tea.
She managed to drink most of it, not commenting on the taste - perhaps she was too ill to notice its bitterness. Glinda set the cup on the nightstand and shifted herself more fully onto the bed, letting Elphaba rest against her chest. If she was going to poison her roommate, she was certainly going to be there to know about it. She watched carefully as Elphaba's eyes closed, watched her chest rise and fall as she went back to sleep. Glinda took one of Elphaba's hands in hers and kissed her forehead, settling down to wait.
She woke from an unintended sleep what must have been hours later - high afternoon sunlight was streaming through the windows. She was still cradling Elphaba against her, with her legs draped over Elphaba's on top of the blankets. In a panic she looked down, but Elphaba was still sleeping calmly, her breathing perfectly regular. To Glinda's touch her forehead felt a little cooler. Glinda breathed an enormous sigh of relief and went to make some more tea.
~~Elphaba~~
Elphaba looked down at the cup of tea in her hands, contemplating it. She knew Glinda had been waking her up to drink it all day, but this was the first time she could remember feeling really alert while doing so. "Glinda," she asked, "why is this tea so bitter?"
"Is it?" Glinda asked. She was perched at the desk, bent slightly over her own cup of tea and her sorcery text.
"Yes." Elphaba rolled the cup carefully in her hands, watching the sediments shift - two different colors. "What's in it?"
"Just tea."
"No." A wave of panic was beginning to make itself known; she looked at Glinda as if she had never seen her before. "No, it's not."
Glinda came and sat on the end of her bed, and Elphaba found herself wanting to flinch. "No," Glinda said. "It's a medicine for pain and fever. I got it -"
"Did you get it from the infirmary?" Elphaba asked urgently, her stomach dropping. She couldn't have, hadn't she warned her - or tried . . .
"No!" Glinda protested. "I got it from Madame Greyling. I tested it myself and you're much better, so it must be all right."
"You told me it was just plain tea. I remember."
"I was afraid you wouldn't drink it, you were so upset, but your fever was so high, you had to have something." Glinda's fingers twisted into the blankets. "Are - are you angry?"
"You - I don't know." Glinda had lied to her, had tricked her into taking something that might have been dangerous. But Glinda had believed it was all right. And apparently it had been. But it had been a risk - she ought to have let Elphaba decide herself - but then Elphaba remembered, knew how foggy she had been, knew she would have been unable to decide anything, unable to do anything but refuse out of blind unknowing fear - Glinda had lied to her, but Glinda had been right. She had made Elphaba's decision for her, but Elphaba had been unable to make it herself. She looked down into the cup of tea she was still holding. "No," she said finally, softly.
Glinda reached up and took the cup from her, setting it on the nightstand so that she could hold one of Elphaba's hands. "There's something else I have to tell you," she said.
Elphaba's trepidation returned in full force. "What?"
"I went to the infirmary this morning."
"You - what?"
"I went and told the matron I was feeling ill and asked her for a fever remedy." Glinda was speaking low and fast, her eyes cast down. "I think - I think she knew the truth. I think she knew it was intended for you. I think she put a spell on me so I wouldn't question what she gave me, but - I remembered what you said - I went to Madame and got the medicine from her instead, but I kept what the matron gave me." She pulled the little vial out of her skirt pocket and held it up for Elphaba to see. "This is what she gave me. I don't know what it is or what it would have done to you, but I don't think it's fever medicine."
Elphaba took the vial from her with shaking hands. She hardly knew what to think - Glinda had risked so much, had come so close to giving her what could be anything - but in the end she hadn't, in the end she'd ended up right - right or lucky? Elphaba shook her head. "I told you you were clever," she rasped. She hoped Glinda would take it as forgiveness, which it was - mostly.
Glinda climbed up onto the bed and reclined beside Elphaba, slipping her arms around Elphaba's shoulders. "You shouldn't," Elphaba said, although she was already leaning into Glinda's warmth. Her fever did seem better, but in return she was freezing. "You'll catch it."
"If I'm going to, it's already too late anyway." As if to prove her point, Glinda leaned in and brushed a light kiss across Elphaba's lips - Elphaba wasn't entirely certain whether she planned to do that often, from now on. "Go back to sleep for a while," Glinda said.
"We should figure out what the matron gave you," Elphaba protested weakly.
"We will. Later. You didn't take it, so there's no rush."
"There is a rush; she'll be wondering why it didn't do what it was supposed to do."
"I doubt she would know immediately if it had, anyway." Glinda tucked the blankets tighter around Elphaba as if she knew Elphaba was really too ill to fight very much. "Sleep."
When Elphaba woke, the room was dark and she was alone. She panicked for a moment - but after all, there were lots of perfectly innocent places Glinda could have gone. And the little vial from the matron was where she had left it, on the nightstand, still full to the brim. And she wasn't dead, and she felt in her right mind. Still, she didn't know whether to feel guilty or not that she had instantly suspected Glinda of - what? She didn't even know.
The fire was going low and the room was chilly. She dragged herself out of bed, wrapping the blanket around her as a robe, and went to build it up again. She was still sitting there, leaning against the end of Glinda's bed, watching the flames with her face growing warm from the heat, when Glinda came back in. Something was wrong - she was clutching both hands to her stomach, leaning against the closed door as if afraid someone would try to break in, and her face was white as a sheet.
"What?" Elphaba asked.
Glinda fixed frightened eyes on her. "You're all right?"
"I feel a little better. What happened?"
"The matron's gone."
"You went back -"
"No." Glinda shrugged out of her coat and dropped to the floor beside Elphaba. "I went to see Fiyero." In response to Elphaba's lifted eyebrow Glinda added quickly, "We're not - he asked to know how you were."
Something in Elphaba's stomach flipped over. "Why would he ask that?"
Glinda looked down at her lap. "Well - I couldn't get you home myself last night. You were nearly unconscious. He - carried you up here."
Now the something in her stomach was doing cartwheels. "What?"
"Sorry." Glinda drew her knees up to her chest. "It was the only way, and he seemed to really want to help."
"But - he -" None of this made sense. "You talked to him?"
"I had to, you were so sick." Glinda bit her lip. "But anyway - I saw Milla, and she said there was a new matron. No one knows what's happened to the old one. Milla went for a headache remedy and was just told that the new matron had been hired this afternoon and the old one was already gone."
Elphaba swallowed and pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to clear her still-sleepy thoughts. "What do you think happened?"
"I've had a while to think about it," Glinda said, fingers playing thoughtfully with the hem of her skirt. "I think she was replaced because she failed."
"How do you mean?"
"I think she was supposed to do something to you, and someone knows it didn't work. So they replaced her."
Elphaba shuddered. "The new matron . . ."
"No, I don't think it's her." Glinda's forehead was knotted in deep consideration. "I didn't feel - wrong about her. They must be planning to try with someone else."
"They who, though?" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I thought we were -"
"- safe. So did I." Glinda moved closer and took her hand. "You scared me so much yesterday, talking about Morrible wanting to use me for something. But when the matron started talking to me - it was so creepy, I thought you had to be right."
"Well. I'm sorry I scared you."
"You were pretty - nerve-wracking."
Elphaba pulled Glinda's hand into her lap. "So we think it is Morrible? She has tried to control us before, I think. I would believe her agenda is different from the Wizard's."
"You don't think the Wizard would try to hurt you?" Glinda asked.
Elphaba considered that. "No, I don't think he would. Or you."
"Of course I wouldn't try to -"
"No. I meant - the Wizard wouldn't try to hurt you."
"Oh." Glinda's eyes dropped to Elphaba's lap. "You know - I mean, you know I wouldn't -"
"Of course." Guilt gnawed at her, and she leaned her head on Glinda's shoulder. "Of course I know that."
"So," Glinda said after a moment. "How are we going to figure out what was in that vial? Can we trust Madame Greyling?"
"I haven't decided."
"Me either. But she did give me the real medicine when I asked, so I suppose that means something."
"But it could mean she's trying to earn your - or our - trust." Elphaba felt her eyes growing heavy, and she turned her face into Glinda's shoulder. "Doesn't mean she's on our side."
Glinda's fingers, warm and gentle, cradled the back of her head. "You're still sick, you should go back to bed," she said. "We'll think about it in the morning."
"You mean you'll send me to bed, and then you'll stay up half the night thinking about it. I know you by now."
Glinda was getting up to her knees, tugging Elphaba up as well. "Think you know everything about me, huh?"
"No. Not everything."
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Morrible may be untrustworthy, and no one is surprised.
Disclaimer: Wicked belongs mostly to Gregory Maguire, and musicalverse belongs to Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and possibly Universal.
Notes: Previous section can be found here.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda and Elphaba both had a bad night. Elphaba alternated between unresponsiveness and bouts of delirium (although Glinda's greatest secret fear was that it might not really be delirium, that Elphaba might be right) in which she clutched Glinda's arm and looked at her with unseeing eyes as she warned her that Morrible was trying to corrupt her. By morning - after near-constant applications of cold cloths and long periods of shivering when Elphaba, despite the heat radiating from her skin, clung to Glinda as if she were freezing to death - it seemed that Elphaba had grown a bit cooler. She had slept a little without being disturbed by shivering or shaking, and the color of her skin seemed a bit better. But it was obvious that she was still feverish, still uncomfortable, and still very ill. By an hour or so after dawn, Glinda had settled on what she thought had to be the best possible solution. She dressed hastily, threw on Elphaba's cloak to conceal the fact that she hadn't taken much care with her appearance, and hurried as quickly as she could to the infirmary.
"I think I'm coming down with a cold," she told the matron as earnestly as she could, adding a little cough into her hand for effect. "I think I can still attend classes, but is there anything you could give me for the fever?"
"Poor thing," the matron cooed, patting her on the arm. Her brightly curious eyes probed Glinda sympathetically, reaching, seemingly, deep inside her. "Let me get you something that you can take back to your room . . ."
Glinda settled onto a chair, feeling deeply cared for, relaxed, safe, a little sleepy, a little foggy. She watched the matron take an empty vial from her stores and then reach into the furthest-back corners of one of her cabinets to fill the vial with white powder. "You can mix this with water or tea, dear," the matron said as she worked. "It should make everything much better. I'm so glad you came to see me."
Something she would later think of as no less than miraculous pricked at the back of Glinda's mind - Elphaba's frightened face, the unnaturally peaceful feeling that had come over her when the matron began speaking, the same strange loss of control over her own emotions that she had felt in the Wizard's palace . . .
Why did something as common as a fever remedy come from such a tiny jar in the back of a cupboard?
Glinda swallowed as the matron pressed the vial into her hands. The woman's smile was knowing, as if she were aware of exactly why Glinda had come. "There you are, dear," she said. "You get on back to your dormitory and everything will be fine." Her eyes brushed over Elphaba's cloak, which was rather too long to belong to Glinda, with a deep curiosity.
Glinda put the vial deep into her skirt pocket. "Thank you," she said. "I'll take it right away."
The matron smiled. "Good."
Glinda thought carefully all the way back to the dormitory, and it seemed to her that she had only one option left - or two, really, but the second involved leaving Elphaba long enough to go into town, and she didn't want to do that. She knocked on Madame Greyling's door and schooled her face into an expression of unease and discomfort - it wasn't hard.
"Miss Glinda," Madame Greyling said with some surprise. "Is anything the matter?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you so early," Glinda said, although Madame was clearly already up and ready for the day. "But it's just -" she glanced around her and lowered her voice, "I'm having some - female - discomfort, and I can't go to the infirmary - you understand - I was just wondering whether you had anything on hand I might - take . . ."
The headmistress clucked sympathetically and opened her door wider. "Of course I understand, dear. When I moved into the dormitory Madame Morrible advised me to have on hand a supply of things you young ladies might need, in an emergency - I have just the thing."
The mention of Madame Morrible made Glinda nervous, but Madame Greyling had never given her that feeling of distrust that Morrible inspired. She had to hope this was the right thing to do - the apothecary in town wouldn't be open for hours yet . . . at least Madame Greyling was pouring something from a very ordinary bottle that she had taken from her desk drawer, with a very ordinary label on it that professed itself to be the kind of medicine Glinda wanted.
"Here you are," Madame said, capping off the vial and handing it to Glinda. "That ought to be enough for a day or so."
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Glinda ducked out of the room and hurried back upstairs, terrified that she would find Elphaba worse. Elphaba was asleep, however, exactly where Glinda had left her, and her temperature seemed about the same.
Glinda set the vial Madame Greyling had given her on the table and cast the occasional nervous glance at it while she set about making tea. The other vial, the one from the matron, burned a hole in her pocket - she wondered whether there was any spell in their sorcery text to find out exactly what it was. It would probably have to wait until Elphaba was well - unless, of course, Glinda was about to poison her. If Madame Greyling's vial was tainted as well - as Glinda now assumed the matron's was - well . . .
She made the tea tepid on purpose and filled a cup, tipping a spoon's worth of Madame's powder into it. After looking into the cup for a long moment, making up her mind, she took a cautious sip from it and waited. It tasted all right, if a little bitter. Nothing dramatic happened. She didn't feel any different.
She perched on the side of Elphaba's bed and shook her gently with the hand that wasn't holding the tea. "Elphie?" she called softly. "You need to wake up for a moment and drink this, it'll make you feel better."
Elphaba's dark eyes, when they opened, were glazed but coherent. "What is it?" she asked in a raspy whisper.
Glinda hesitated for the space of a breath. "Tea," she said. "Just tea. You haven't had anything to drink since yesterday. Come on, I'll help you sit up." Holding the teacup carefully away from herself with a steady arm, she slipped the other one under Elphaba's shoulders and propped her up. When Elphaba seemed ready she held the teacup to her lips and waited as Elphaba lifted one hand to steady it. "Go on," Glinda said. "As much as you can manage." She kept one hand under the teacup to help with its weight; the other stroked Elphaba's hair back from her face as Glinda watched her drink the tea.
She managed to drink most of it, not commenting on the taste - perhaps she was too ill to notice its bitterness. Glinda set the cup on the nightstand and shifted herself more fully onto the bed, letting Elphaba rest against her chest. If she was going to poison her roommate, she was certainly going to be there to know about it. She watched carefully as Elphaba's eyes closed, watched her chest rise and fall as she went back to sleep. Glinda took one of Elphaba's hands in hers and kissed her forehead, settling down to wait.
She woke from an unintended sleep what must have been hours later - high afternoon sunlight was streaming through the windows. She was still cradling Elphaba against her, with her legs draped over Elphaba's on top of the blankets. In a panic she looked down, but Elphaba was still sleeping calmly, her breathing perfectly regular. To Glinda's touch her forehead felt a little cooler. Glinda breathed an enormous sigh of relief and went to make some more tea.
~~Elphaba~~
Elphaba looked down at the cup of tea in her hands, contemplating it. She knew Glinda had been waking her up to drink it all day, but this was the first time she could remember feeling really alert while doing so. "Glinda," she asked, "why is this tea so bitter?"
"Is it?" Glinda asked. She was perched at the desk, bent slightly over her own cup of tea and her sorcery text.
"Yes." Elphaba rolled the cup carefully in her hands, watching the sediments shift - two different colors. "What's in it?"
"Just tea."
"No." A wave of panic was beginning to make itself known; she looked at Glinda as if she had never seen her before. "No, it's not."
Glinda came and sat on the end of her bed, and Elphaba found herself wanting to flinch. "No," Glinda said. "It's a medicine for pain and fever. I got it -"
"Did you get it from the infirmary?" Elphaba asked urgently, her stomach dropping. She couldn't have, hadn't she warned her - or tried . . .
"No!" Glinda protested. "I got it from Madame Greyling. I tested it myself and you're much better, so it must be all right."
"You told me it was just plain tea. I remember."
"I was afraid you wouldn't drink it, you were so upset, but your fever was so high, you had to have something." Glinda's fingers twisted into the blankets. "Are - are you angry?"
"You - I don't know." Glinda had lied to her, had tricked her into taking something that might have been dangerous. But Glinda had believed it was all right. And apparently it had been. But it had been a risk - she ought to have let Elphaba decide herself - but then Elphaba remembered, knew how foggy she had been, knew she would have been unable to decide anything, unable to do anything but refuse out of blind unknowing fear - Glinda had lied to her, but Glinda had been right. She had made Elphaba's decision for her, but Elphaba had been unable to make it herself. She looked down into the cup of tea she was still holding. "No," she said finally, softly.
Glinda reached up and took the cup from her, setting it on the nightstand so that she could hold one of Elphaba's hands. "There's something else I have to tell you," she said.
Elphaba's trepidation returned in full force. "What?"
"I went to the infirmary this morning."
"You - what?"
"I went and told the matron I was feeling ill and asked her for a fever remedy." Glinda was speaking low and fast, her eyes cast down. "I think - I think she knew the truth. I think she knew it was intended for you. I think she put a spell on me so I wouldn't question what she gave me, but - I remembered what you said - I went to Madame and got the medicine from her instead, but I kept what the matron gave me." She pulled the little vial out of her skirt pocket and held it up for Elphaba to see. "This is what she gave me. I don't know what it is or what it would have done to you, but I don't think it's fever medicine."
Elphaba took the vial from her with shaking hands. She hardly knew what to think - Glinda had risked so much, had come so close to giving her what could be anything - but in the end she hadn't, in the end she'd ended up right - right or lucky? Elphaba shook her head. "I told you you were clever," she rasped. She hoped Glinda would take it as forgiveness, which it was - mostly.
Glinda climbed up onto the bed and reclined beside Elphaba, slipping her arms around Elphaba's shoulders. "You shouldn't," Elphaba said, although she was already leaning into Glinda's warmth. Her fever did seem better, but in return she was freezing. "You'll catch it."
"If I'm going to, it's already too late anyway." As if to prove her point, Glinda leaned in and brushed a light kiss across Elphaba's lips - Elphaba wasn't entirely certain whether she planned to do that often, from now on. "Go back to sleep for a while," Glinda said.
"We should figure out what the matron gave you," Elphaba protested weakly.
"We will. Later. You didn't take it, so there's no rush."
"There is a rush; she'll be wondering why it didn't do what it was supposed to do."
"I doubt she would know immediately if it had, anyway." Glinda tucked the blankets tighter around Elphaba as if she knew Elphaba was really too ill to fight very much. "Sleep."
When Elphaba woke, the room was dark and she was alone. She panicked for a moment - but after all, there were lots of perfectly innocent places Glinda could have gone. And the little vial from the matron was where she had left it, on the nightstand, still full to the brim. And she wasn't dead, and she felt in her right mind. Still, she didn't know whether to feel guilty or not that she had instantly suspected Glinda of - what? She didn't even know.
The fire was going low and the room was chilly. She dragged herself out of bed, wrapping the blanket around her as a robe, and went to build it up again. She was still sitting there, leaning against the end of Glinda's bed, watching the flames with her face growing warm from the heat, when Glinda came back in. Something was wrong - she was clutching both hands to her stomach, leaning against the closed door as if afraid someone would try to break in, and her face was white as a sheet.
"What?" Elphaba asked.
Glinda fixed frightened eyes on her. "You're all right?"
"I feel a little better. What happened?"
"The matron's gone."
"You went back -"
"No." Glinda shrugged out of her coat and dropped to the floor beside Elphaba. "I went to see Fiyero." In response to Elphaba's lifted eyebrow Glinda added quickly, "We're not - he asked to know how you were."
Something in Elphaba's stomach flipped over. "Why would he ask that?"
Glinda looked down at her lap. "Well - I couldn't get you home myself last night. You were nearly unconscious. He - carried you up here."
Now the something in her stomach was doing cartwheels. "What?"
"Sorry." Glinda drew her knees up to her chest. "It was the only way, and he seemed to really want to help."
"But - he -" None of this made sense. "You talked to him?"
"I had to, you were so sick." Glinda bit her lip. "But anyway - I saw Milla, and she said there was a new matron. No one knows what's happened to the old one. Milla went for a headache remedy and was just told that the new matron had been hired this afternoon and the old one was already gone."
Elphaba swallowed and pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to clear her still-sleepy thoughts. "What do you think happened?"
"I've had a while to think about it," Glinda said, fingers playing thoughtfully with the hem of her skirt. "I think she was replaced because she failed."
"How do you mean?"
"I think she was supposed to do something to you, and someone knows it didn't work. So they replaced her."
Elphaba shuddered. "The new matron . . ."
"No, I don't think it's her." Glinda's forehead was knotted in deep consideration. "I didn't feel - wrong about her. They must be planning to try with someone else."
"They who, though?" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I thought we were -"
"- safe. So did I." Glinda moved closer and took her hand. "You scared me so much yesterday, talking about Morrible wanting to use me for something. But when the matron started talking to me - it was so creepy, I thought you had to be right."
"Well. I'm sorry I scared you."
"You were pretty - nerve-wracking."
Elphaba pulled Glinda's hand into her lap. "So we think it is Morrible? She has tried to control us before, I think. I would believe her agenda is different from the Wizard's."
"You don't think the Wizard would try to hurt you?" Glinda asked.
Elphaba considered that. "No, I don't think he would. Or you."
"Of course I wouldn't try to -"
"No. I meant - the Wizard wouldn't try to hurt you."
"Oh." Glinda's eyes dropped to Elphaba's lap. "You know - I mean, you know I wouldn't -"
"Of course." Guilt gnawed at her, and she leaned her head on Glinda's shoulder. "Of course I know that."
"So," Glinda said after a moment. "How are we going to figure out what was in that vial? Can we trust Madame Greyling?"
"I haven't decided."
"Me either. But she did give me the real medicine when I asked, so I suppose that means something."
"But it could mean she's trying to earn your - or our - trust." Elphaba felt her eyes growing heavy, and she turned her face into Glinda's shoulder. "Doesn't mean she's on our side."
Glinda's fingers, warm and gentle, cradled the back of her head. "You're still sick, you should go back to bed," she said. "We'll think about it in the morning."
"You mean you'll send me to bed, and then you'll stay up half the night thinking about it. I know you by now."
Glinda was getting up to her knees, tugging Elphaba up as well. "Think you know everything about me, huh?"
"No. Not everything."