The Effects of Gravity 29/?, by ainsleyaisling
Title: The Effects of Gravity 29/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG-13
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings for Story Overall: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Glinda has a plan, and her family has some news.
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 had been thinking very seriously for many many days.
Not about classes, which despite what she had told her mother suddenly seemed very easy, in her second year - perhaps because she spent so much time with Elphaba. And anyway not about the new first-year boys who watched her pass with reverent whispers and found excuses to hold doors open for her, and who had no idea what had happened to her last year. Not about the first-year girls, especially on their dormitory floor, who looked to her as a guide. Not about the more-or-less disturbing-and-relieving fact that she found nothing very interesting about any of the new boys, in particular, and nothing new and revelatory and suddenly compellingly attractive about any of those ones she had known before. Certainly not about her mother's seeming belief that she might not find any of them attractive, or the odd suspicion that Glinda might be - what? - looking to the first-year girls for excitement instead?
And not even, although this was more of a deliberate effort, about the fact that before she and Elphaba had returned to school her mother had been looking pale and feeling tired and complaining about strange things - that the food tasted wrong, that the maids had used a rancid floor-wax in the front hall when no one else noticed anything was amiss.
No. She had been thinking about Elphaba. About how the first rush of revulsion toward the unexpected seemed accompanied by a thrill of fear, when people first saw her. About how the light glanced off the sharp angle of her nose, about her clever profile, about the long and ridiculously luxurious curtain of her hair and the way it shone. About how a simple trick of firelight on a dark evening could turn her to a strange goddess, eyes flashing both sternly and mysteriously. About the straight proud line of her back, the set of her shoulders, the way her slim figure managed to be miles away from boyish even though the curves were minimal.
About how some of the new boys turned to watch her pass, unwillingly though it seemed. How sometimes her smallest gesture had Glinda staring. How men in the Emerald City, and some women too, had turned to stare in that place where the color of her skin went unnoticed behind the green haze of their glasses. How even Fiyero, in his sweet crusade to be friends with both of them, sometimes looked at her out of the corner of his eye when he thought no one could see, or perhaps he didn't even know he was looking.
About what really frightened Morrible about Elphaba, and about Elphaba and Glinda united. About the feelings connected with Elphaba that had been strong enough to overcome what Morrible's spells had tried to do to Glinda.
And then she understood what she had to do, and it only remained to figure out how to do it.
Research and experimentation was difficult when both mostly consisted of watching Elphaba and trying little things, and when Elphaba was so suspicious by nature. Most of her little experiments managed to pass for friendly gestures, she thought, or spontaneous caresses. She would reach over in the light from the fire and pull a section of Elphaba's hair in front of her face, or capture her while they were getting ready for classes and insist on putting her hair up, or put out a hand during class and observe how many of the boys watched if she ran her fingers gently and casually over Elphaba's wrist.
Elphaba was so fretful about their inevitable next visit to the Emerald City - date still unannounced - and so concerned with cataloguing what they had learned and observed since then, and so intent on how she would protect Glinda from Morrible's influence and what spells they ought to practice and what she would say to the Wizard and what she would ask him, that finally one day while she was fidgeting with her food at lunch Glinda decided to reveal that she had a plan.
"I've solved your problem," she told Elphaba nonchalantly, tipping her water glass onto its edge and rolling it carefully back and forth on the table.
"My - problem?" Elphaba was caught unawares, her train of thought interrupted.
"Mmm-hmm. Well, our problem. Our problem of how to make sure everyone in Oz likes you, or thinks positively of you at least, so that Morrible has a harder time convincing them to be afraid of you."
"Oh." Elphaba's brow contracted and she set down her fork as if waiting to hear her sentence pronounced. "You've figured out how to make them not afraid of me?"
"Oh, no." Glinda let her glass fall gently back to its upright position. "No, I'm not sure that's possible."
"Oh, thanks."
"You know what I meant. You have so much power, Elphie, people who don't know you are going to be a little afraid of you. It's inevitable. Goodness, people who do know you, and like you, are a little afraid of you. Even Fiyero thinks you're a bit scary."
Elphaba's nose wrinkled. "Fiyero?"
Glinda had to laugh, a little. "I don't know how, but you have him just a little bit terrified. Any time he does something you wouldn't like, it's 'don't tell Elphaba.'"
"What have I ever done to . . ." Elphaba trailed off and frowned. "How often does he do things I wouldn't like? Things that you can hear about, I mean?"
Glinda giggled quietly. "Nothing that scandalous, really. But my point is - you're so powerful, we're hardly going to convince people that you can't harm them when you so obviously can. Plus Morrible and even the Wizard are going to be doing their best to show the people how scary you can be - that's their weapon, right?"
"I suppose? Is this supposed to be making me feel better?"
"Of course." Glinda grinned across the table. "I've thought of the one thing that would make people like you as a public figure even if they're a little afraid of you."
"Respect?" Elphaba guessed. "For my brilliant mind and my kind soul?"
"No. And if you keep scowling like that we'll never convince anyone that you have a kind soul in the first place." Glinda broke off a piece of biscuit and ate it calmly before proclaiming, "Sex."
"Excuse me?"
"Sex," Glinda repeated, swallowing the bit of biscuit. "The thing that makes dangerous things compelling and scary things seem attractive. And the one tactic you are absolutely made for."
Elphaba leaned over the table and pressed her palm flat against Glinda's forehead. Glinda pushed it away impatiently.
"I don't have a fever," she said. "Honestly Elphie, it's perfect. Do you even know what you look like sometimes?"
"A dragon?"
"No -"
"Ivy?"
"Oh, shut up if you're not going to be serious." She kicked Elphaba lightly under the table. "You're . . . well, you're so mysterious, and quiet, and -"
"Green?"
"Beautiful."
Elphaba's eyebrows lifted and she leaned back in her chair. "You're out of your mind."
"Who would know better than me?" Glinda asked rhetorically.
"Know whether you're insane?"
"Know whether you're beautiful."
"In that case - lots of people," Elphaba said. "You're my friend. You're biased."
"This is my completely unbiased opinion," Glinda insisted. "And it's so easy, Elphie, think about it. It would take so little to get people to see you as - well - a bit sultry, you know - and you wouldn't have to be afraid . . ."
Elphaba waited a moment before asking, "Afraid of what?"
"Well." Glinda pulled off another piece of biscuit in her effort to look casual. "You have all the strength and the power, you know - there's no harm in making people think of you that way, because they'd also be a little afraid of you and you could - defend yourself if things got out of hand - not that I think they would . . ."
"Oh," Elphaba said quietly. She took a sip of her tea before saying only, thankfully, "I suppose you're right about that, at least."
"I'm right about all of it," Glinda said, feeling her energy return. In one swift moment she knew she was going to tell Elphaba everything, drop the bombshell casually as if it were just another blow she expected Elphaba to absorb with equanimity. "And, you know, it's the one thing Morrible would never suspect. What girl wouldn't want to be seen as attractive? Plus I can help you without raising any suspicion; they'd expect me to fuss over you and try to choose your clothes and do your hair and things - after all -" She reached for her water and looked as matter-of-fact as she knew how "- they already think we're lovers anyway."
Elphaba choked violently, although it had been several seconds since she had put down her tea. Glinda felt a bit of remorse for dropping it quite like that, and began to think about going around and hitting her on the back, but then Elphaba coughed a few times and sputtered, "You know about that?"
"I . . ." It was Glinda's turn to be surprised, although she managed not to choke. "You know?"
"Of course I - how long have you known?"
"Since before we went to the City the last time - or I guessed, anyway, and then after everything that happened I was sure. How long have you known?"
Elphaba had begun to blush horribly in a strange piney sort of way. It made Glinda feel ridiculously calm. "Since the first time," she admitted. "Since we first met the Wizard."
"What? How?"
"He told me," Elphaba said very softly. She lifted her head and looked Glinda in the eye and confessed, "He told me what he thought, and I let him think it because I thought it would keep you safe. He implied he would take care of you for my sake."
"Oh," Glinda said very quietly.
Elphaba looked at her intently across the table. "Don't think - that's not the only reason, of course -"
"Oh, Elphaba." Glinda waved this objection away with one hand. "I've always known - we've always known that they only included me because I came with you. It doesn't matter."
"Only because they don't understand," Elphaba said firmly.
Glinda nodded; she wasn't paying attention to that, she was thinking. "That's why," she said. "The rooms, and the one bed. And why you were always so mortified when I mentioned it."
Elphaba nodded.
"And why Morrible, right from the beginning, always made me feel like . . ." Glinda didn't quite know how she meant to finish that sentence, but she had the idea that Elphaba understood. "It all makes really a lot more sense, now."
"I should have told you."
"I should have told you, too. It's what I meant that time, when I said Morrible knew a secret, or thought she did . . ."
"Oh," Elphaba said. "That's a bit of a relief. I thought it was something much worse."
"Of course you did."
"So," Elphaba asked, "it doesn't bother you? That they think that? I mean, for them to think you would ever . . . let me . . ." Her furious blush was back, and she didn't seem able to go on.
Glinda reached out and laid her hand over Elphaba's. "Elphie," she said honestly, "you know a lot about all this is disturbing to me, but just being linked to you is not."
Elphaba's eyes shone just a little as she nodded.
"Anyway," Glinda continued, "you agree that my plan is brilliant?"
And just like that, Elphaba's expression was quite back to normal. "No," she said.
"Oh, please." Glinda smiled as she saw exactly the right person approaching behind Elphaba. "What we need is a second opinion."
The look of panic on Elphaba's face was actually almost cute. "Oh sweet Oz, no," she begged. "Are you mad?"
Glinda waved cheerfully at Fiyero, and he came and sat down beside Elphaba. As soon as she saw him Elphaba paled and dropped her face into her hands. "Something I said?" he asked.
"You need to settle an argument for us," Glinda said.
He looked warily between them. "All right."
She laid her hands flat on the table, ignoring Elphaba's imploring look, and phrased her question as carefully as possible. "What things are there that you're afraid of, but sort of like anyway?"
"Um?" Fiyero looked confused. "You mean like cliff-diving, or something?"
"Not exactly." Apparently her phrasing hadn't been quite careful enough. "I mean - there are some things that you find frightening, but also - compelling. Exciting. Right?"
"I guess?"
"So. What is it about those things that makes them exciting instead of just scary?"
"The . . . thrill?" he guessed. "I still don't know exactly what we're talking about, Glinda."
"As to people," she prompted. "If there was a person you found a bit dangerous, a bit exciting . . ."
"Oh. Well." His tone was low and a bit apologetic. "Sex. I suppose."
"Exactly." Glinda beamed as Elphaba shook her head in silent despair.
"Why are we talking about this?" Fiyero asked.
"Because she wants to shame me to death," Elphaba muttered from behind her hands.
Glinda ignored her. "Because," she said, "you understand Elphaba has a bit of an image problem, what with Morrible and the Wizard trying to convince everyone that she's a terror - but for our purposes, we want them to like her, you see . . ."
"Oh," Fiyero said. He turned to look at Elphaba, leaning away from her slightly so that he could take her in. "Absolutely."
"You agree?"
"Definitely - no, don't hide, Elphaba." Looking a bit awkward about it, he placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face. "No, that's clever, Glinda," he said, looking at her. "That would work, easily."
"Yes?" Glinda asked excitedly. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Making people see her that way?" He nodded. "Oh, yes. It would work."
"You're both mad," Elphaba muttered. "And I just want to die."
"You could see her that way, couldn't you?" Glinda pressed. She suspected she had gone a bit too far - they were friends after all, but how comfortable were they really with each other? - when Fiyero began to flush and didn't seem quite able to look at Elphaba. She couldn't imagine, however, that he couldn't manage to find her somehow attractive.
Elphaba reached out and clapped her hand over his mouth. "I beg of you," she said, "please, please don't give her any kind of an answer."
"No, she's right, don't," Glinda said hastily. "I'm sorry, Elphie, we're embarrassing you."
Fiyero looked hugely relieved, but he also smiled as the color faded from his face. "Still," he said, "it's a worthy plan."
Elphaba dropped her face into her hands again.
~~Elphaba~~
She could tell something was different the moment she walked into the room. At lunch, although Glinda had been talking absolute madness, she'd at least been showing more of her usual spirit than Elphaba could remember seeing lately. The contrast, therefore, between that Glinda and the Glinda who was sitting on her bed staring at a sheet of paper she held in a trembling hand, was striking. "What's wrong?" Elphaba asked.
"Letter from home," Glinda said quietly.
"Is your mother ill?" She knew Glinda had been worrying - but there hadn't been any bad news, and Glinda had seemed to push the worst of her worries out of her mind . . .
Glinda shook her head slowly. "No. She's not ill."
"Then . . ." The worst possible scenario leaped to Elphaba's mind, and she sat quickly down on the end of the bed and took Glinda's hand.
Glinda lifted slightly confused eyes to hers and said, hesitantly, "She's - pregnant."
This was so very not what Elphaba had expected to hear that she was momentarily confused, as well. "What?"
"She's having a baby," Glinda said more firmly. "Her feeling ill before we left - she's having a baby. I suppose she didn't suspect because it's been so long - because she didn't expect to have any more, when I was the only one for such a long time, and she's so much older . . ."
"But . . ." Glinda's tone was so empty, and even though childbirth carried all sorts of terrifying associations in Elphaba's mind, surely it wasn't something to be sad about. "Isn't that . . . good?"
"Of course it is," Glinda said dully. Her fingers latched onto Elphaba's and pressed tightly. "Of course, it's - obviously it's wonderful, I was so worried that something was wrong with her."
"You don't think it's wonderful."
"Of course I do, I - Elphaba -" Glinda took a deep breath and started over. "She writes that my father is excited about the prospect of possibly having a son, after all . . ."
"Oh." Elphaba pressed Glinda's fingers a bit harder. "But - you know that surely their having another child won't change anything about how they feel about you -"
"No, I know. It's not that." She shifted herself on the bed so that her shoulders were touching Elphaba's. Gone completely was the confident, in-charge Glinda Elphaba had seen earlier; this Glinda was quiet and meek and asking to be comforted. "It's - I've been thinking - do you know much about Gillikin law?"
"Not really," Elphaba admitted.
"I've always been rather - free," Glinda said, "you know, being their only child, knowing my father wouldn't force me to do anything I really didn't want to do. But - if I have a brother, Elphie, no matter how old he is, he'll have the right to make me do anything - to make decisions for me, if my father dies - until I'm married." She pulled Elphaba's hand into her lap and wrapped both of hers around it. "You understand, I could have a brother I barely even know who will be able to choose a husband for me, to decide where I should live, and I won't have a choice. The Emerald City isn't outside Gillikin customary law, it won't change anything for me to live there."
"Surely," Elphaba said, "any brother raised by your parents wouldn't treat you like that, or try to control you . . ." But her tone didn't carry the conviction she would have liked. Glinda was right, this new sibling would barely know her. And if it were a boy, a boy raised in such privilege and benign indulgence, allowed to believe the world revolved around his every whim . . . "And anyway," she said weakly, "you might have a sister. And your father is young and healthy and he could live forever. It's not time to panic yet."
"It's going to be a brother," Glinda said softly. "I'm sure of that, anyway. I just am. And I don't think he'll like me very much."
Elphaba didn't really know what to say to that.
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: PG-13
'Verse: Musical AU; some details from bookverse
Pairings for Story Overall: Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero, Glinda/Elphaba
Summary: Glinda has a plan, and her family has some news.
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 had been thinking very seriously for many many days.
Not about classes, which despite what she had told her mother suddenly seemed very easy, in her second year - perhaps because she spent so much time with Elphaba. And anyway not about the new first-year boys who watched her pass with reverent whispers and found excuses to hold doors open for her, and who had no idea what had happened to her last year. Not about the first-year girls, especially on their dormitory floor, who looked to her as a guide. Not about the more-or-less disturbing-and-relieving fact that she found nothing very interesting about any of the new boys, in particular, and nothing new and revelatory and suddenly compellingly attractive about any of those ones she had known before. Certainly not about her mother's seeming belief that she might not find any of them attractive, or the odd suspicion that Glinda might be - what? - looking to the first-year girls for excitement instead?
And not even, although this was more of a deliberate effort, about the fact that before she and Elphaba had returned to school her mother had been looking pale and feeling tired and complaining about strange things - that the food tasted wrong, that the maids had used a rancid floor-wax in the front hall when no one else noticed anything was amiss.
No. She had been thinking about Elphaba. About how the first rush of revulsion toward the unexpected seemed accompanied by a thrill of fear, when people first saw her. About how the light glanced off the sharp angle of her nose, about her clever profile, about the long and ridiculously luxurious curtain of her hair and the way it shone. About how a simple trick of firelight on a dark evening could turn her to a strange goddess, eyes flashing both sternly and mysteriously. About the straight proud line of her back, the set of her shoulders, the way her slim figure managed to be miles away from boyish even though the curves were minimal.
About how some of the new boys turned to watch her pass, unwillingly though it seemed. How sometimes her smallest gesture had Glinda staring. How men in the Emerald City, and some women too, had turned to stare in that place where the color of her skin went unnoticed behind the green haze of their glasses. How even Fiyero, in his sweet crusade to be friends with both of them, sometimes looked at her out of the corner of his eye when he thought no one could see, or perhaps he didn't even know he was looking.
About what really frightened Morrible about Elphaba, and about Elphaba and Glinda united. About the feelings connected with Elphaba that had been strong enough to overcome what Morrible's spells had tried to do to Glinda.
And then she understood what she had to do, and it only remained to figure out how to do it.
Research and experimentation was difficult when both mostly consisted of watching Elphaba and trying little things, and when Elphaba was so suspicious by nature. Most of her little experiments managed to pass for friendly gestures, she thought, or spontaneous caresses. She would reach over in the light from the fire and pull a section of Elphaba's hair in front of her face, or capture her while they were getting ready for classes and insist on putting her hair up, or put out a hand during class and observe how many of the boys watched if she ran her fingers gently and casually over Elphaba's wrist.
Elphaba was so fretful about their inevitable next visit to the Emerald City - date still unannounced - and so concerned with cataloguing what they had learned and observed since then, and so intent on how she would protect Glinda from Morrible's influence and what spells they ought to practice and what she would say to the Wizard and what she would ask him, that finally one day while she was fidgeting with her food at lunch Glinda decided to reveal that she had a plan.
"I've solved your problem," she told Elphaba nonchalantly, tipping her water glass onto its edge and rolling it carefully back and forth on the table.
"My - problem?" Elphaba was caught unawares, her train of thought interrupted.
"Mmm-hmm. Well, our problem. Our problem of how to make sure everyone in Oz likes you, or thinks positively of you at least, so that Morrible has a harder time convincing them to be afraid of you."
"Oh." Elphaba's brow contracted and she set down her fork as if waiting to hear her sentence pronounced. "You've figured out how to make them not afraid of me?"
"Oh, no." Glinda let her glass fall gently back to its upright position. "No, I'm not sure that's possible."
"Oh, thanks."
"You know what I meant. You have so much power, Elphie, people who don't know you are going to be a little afraid of you. It's inevitable. Goodness, people who do know you, and like you, are a little afraid of you. Even Fiyero thinks you're a bit scary."
Elphaba's nose wrinkled. "Fiyero?"
Glinda had to laugh, a little. "I don't know how, but you have him just a little bit terrified. Any time he does something you wouldn't like, it's 'don't tell Elphaba.'"
"What have I ever done to . . ." Elphaba trailed off and frowned. "How often does he do things I wouldn't like? Things that you can hear about, I mean?"
Glinda giggled quietly. "Nothing that scandalous, really. But my point is - you're so powerful, we're hardly going to convince people that you can't harm them when you so obviously can. Plus Morrible and even the Wizard are going to be doing their best to show the people how scary you can be - that's their weapon, right?"
"I suppose? Is this supposed to be making me feel better?"
"Of course." Glinda grinned across the table. "I've thought of the one thing that would make people like you as a public figure even if they're a little afraid of you."
"Respect?" Elphaba guessed. "For my brilliant mind and my kind soul?"
"No. And if you keep scowling like that we'll never convince anyone that you have a kind soul in the first place." Glinda broke off a piece of biscuit and ate it calmly before proclaiming, "Sex."
"Excuse me?"
"Sex," Glinda repeated, swallowing the bit of biscuit. "The thing that makes dangerous things compelling and scary things seem attractive. And the one tactic you are absolutely made for."
Elphaba leaned over the table and pressed her palm flat against Glinda's forehead. Glinda pushed it away impatiently.
"I don't have a fever," she said. "Honestly Elphie, it's perfect. Do you even know what you look like sometimes?"
"A dragon?"
"No -"
"Ivy?"
"Oh, shut up if you're not going to be serious." She kicked Elphaba lightly under the table. "You're . . . well, you're so mysterious, and quiet, and -"
"Green?"
"Beautiful."
Elphaba's eyebrows lifted and she leaned back in her chair. "You're out of your mind."
"Who would know better than me?" Glinda asked rhetorically.
"Know whether you're insane?"
"Know whether you're beautiful."
"In that case - lots of people," Elphaba said. "You're my friend. You're biased."
"This is my completely unbiased opinion," Glinda insisted. "And it's so easy, Elphie, think about it. It would take so little to get people to see you as - well - a bit sultry, you know - and you wouldn't have to be afraid . . ."
Elphaba waited a moment before asking, "Afraid of what?"
"Well." Glinda pulled off another piece of biscuit in her effort to look casual. "You have all the strength and the power, you know - there's no harm in making people think of you that way, because they'd also be a little afraid of you and you could - defend yourself if things got out of hand - not that I think they would . . ."
"Oh," Elphaba said quietly. She took a sip of her tea before saying only, thankfully, "I suppose you're right about that, at least."
"I'm right about all of it," Glinda said, feeling her energy return. In one swift moment she knew she was going to tell Elphaba everything, drop the bombshell casually as if it were just another blow she expected Elphaba to absorb with equanimity. "And, you know, it's the one thing Morrible would never suspect. What girl wouldn't want to be seen as attractive? Plus I can help you without raising any suspicion; they'd expect me to fuss over you and try to choose your clothes and do your hair and things - after all -" She reached for her water and looked as matter-of-fact as she knew how "- they already think we're lovers anyway."
Elphaba choked violently, although it had been several seconds since she had put down her tea. Glinda felt a bit of remorse for dropping it quite like that, and began to think about going around and hitting her on the back, but then Elphaba coughed a few times and sputtered, "You know about that?"
"I . . ." It was Glinda's turn to be surprised, although she managed not to choke. "You know?"
"Of course I - how long have you known?"
"Since before we went to the City the last time - or I guessed, anyway, and then after everything that happened I was sure. How long have you known?"
Elphaba had begun to blush horribly in a strange piney sort of way. It made Glinda feel ridiculously calm. "Since the first time," she admitted. "Since we first met the Wizard."
"What? How?"
"He told me," Elphaba said very softly. She lifted her head and looked Glinda in the eye and confessed, "He told me what he thought, and I let him think it because I thought it would keep you safe. He implied he would take care of you for my sake."
"Oh," Glinda said very quietly.
Elphaba looked at her intently across the table. "Don't think - that's not the only reason, of course -"
"Oh, Elphaba." Glinda waved this objection away with one hand. "I've always known - we've always known that they only included me because I came with you. It doesn't matter."
"Only because they don't understand," Elphaba said firmly.
Glinda nodded; she wasn't paying attention to that, she was thinking. "That's why," she said. "The rooms, and the one bed. And why you were always so mortified when I mentioned it."
Elphaba nodded.
"And why Morrible, right from the beginning, always made me feel like . . ." Glinda didn't quite know how she meant to finish that sentence, but she had the idea that Elphaba understood. "It all makes really a lot more sense, now."
"I should have told you."
"I should have told you, too. It's what I meant that time, when I said Morrible knew a secret, or thought she did . . ."
"Oh," Elphaba said. "That's a bit of a relief. I thought it was something much worse."
"Of course you did."
"So," Elphaba asked, "it doesn't bother you? That they think that? I mean, for them to think you would ever . . . let me . . ." Her furious blush was back, and she didn't seem able to go on.
Glinda reached out and laid her hand over Elphaba's. "Elphie," she said honestly, "you know a lot about all this is disturbing to me, but just being linked to you is not."
Elphaba's eyes shone just a little as she nodded.
"Anyway," Glinda continued, "you agree that my plan is brilliant?"
And just like that, Elphaba's expression was quite back to normal. "No," she said.
"Oh, please." Glinda smiled as she saw exactly the right person approaching behind Elphaba. "What we need is a second opinion."
The look of panic on Elphaba's face was actually almost cute. "Oh sweet Oz, no," she begged. "Are you mad?"
Glinda waved cheerfully at Fiyero, and he came and sat down beside Elphaba. As soon as she saw him Elphaba paled and dropped her face into her hands. "Something I said?" he asked.
"You need to settle an argument for us," Glinda said.
He looked warily between them. "All right."
She laid her hands flat on the table, ignoring Elphaba's imploring look, and phrased her question as carefully as possible. "What things are there that you're afraid of, but sort of like anyway?"
"Um?" Fiyero looked confused. "You mean like cliff-diving, or something?"
"Not exactly." Apparently her phrasing hadn't been quite careful enough. "I mean - there are some things that you find frightening, but also - compelling. Exciting. Right?"
"I guess?"
"So. What is it about those things that makes them exciting instead of just scary?"
"The . . . thrill?" he guessed. "I still don't know exactly what we're talking about, Glinda."
"As to people," she prompted. "If there was a person you found a bit dangerous, a bit exciting . . ."
"Oh. Well." His tone was low and a bit apologetic. "Sex. I suppose."
"Exactly." Glinda beamed as Elphaba shook her head in silent despair.
"Why are we talking about this?" Fiyero asked.
"Because she wants to shame me to death," Elphaba muttered from behind her hands.
Glinda ignored her. "Because," she said, "you understand Elphaba has a bit of an image problem, what with Morrible and the Wizard trying to convince everyone that she's a terror - but for our purposes, we want them to like her, you see . . ."
"Oh," Fiyero said. He turned to look at Elphaba, leaning away from her slightly so that he could take her in. "Absolutely."
"You agree?"
"Definitely - no, don't hide, Elphaba." Looking a bit awkward about it, he placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face. "No, that's clever, Glinda," he said, looking at her. "That would work, easily."
"Yes?" Glinda asked excitedly. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Making people see her that way?" He nodded. "Oh, yes. It would work."
"You're both mad," Elphaba muttered. "And I just want to die."
"You could see her that way, couldn't you?" Glinda pressed. She suspected she had gone a bit too far - they were friends after all, but how comfortable were they really with each other? - when Fiyero began to flush and didn't seem quite able to look at Elphaba. She couldn't imagine, however, that he couldn't manage to find her somehow attractive.
Elphaba reached out and clapped her hand over his mouth. "I beg of you," she said, "please, please don't give her any kind of an answer."
"No, she's right, don't," Glinda said hastily. "I'm sorry, Elphie, we're embarrassing you."
Fiyero looked hugely relieved, but he also smiled as the color faded from his face. "Still," he said, "it's a worthy plan."
Elphaba dropped her face into her hands again.
~~Elphaba~~
She could tell something was different the moment she walked into the room. At lunch, although Glinda had been talking absolute madness, she'd at least been showing more of her usual spirit than Elphaba could remember seeing lately. The contrast, therefore, between that Glinda and the Glinda who was sitting on her bed staring at a sheet of paper she held in a trembling hand, was striking. "What's wrong?" Elphaba asked.
"Letter from home," Glinda said quietly.
"Is your mother ill?" She knew Glinda had been worrying - but there hadn't been any bad news, and Glinda had seemed to push the worst of her worries out of her mind . . .
Glinda shook her head slowly. "No. She's not ill."
"Then . . ." The worst possible scenario leaped to Elphaba's mind, and she sat quickly down on the end of the bed and took Glinda's hand.
Glinda lifted slightly confused eyes to hers and said, hesitantly, "She's - pregnant."
This was so very not what Elphaba had expected to hear that she was momentarily confused, as well. "What?"
"She's having a baby," Glinda said more firmly. "Her feeling ill before we left - she's having a baby. I suppose she didn't suspect because it's been so long - because she didn't expect to have any more, when I was the only one for such a long time, and she's so much older . . ."
"But . . ." Glinda's tone was so empty, and even though childbirth carried all sorts of terrifying associations in Elphaba's mind, surely it wasn't something to be sad about. "Isn't that . . . good?"
"Of course it is," Glinda said dully. Her fingers latched onto Elphaba's and pressed tightly. "Of course, it's - obviously it's wonderful, I was so worried that something was wrong with her."
"You don't think it's wonderful."
"Of course I do, I - Elphaba -" Glinda took a deep breath and started over. "She writes that my father is excited about the prospect of possibly having a son, after all . . ."
"Oh." Elphaba pressed Glinda's fingers a bit harder. "But - you know that surely their having another child won't change anything about how they feel about you -"
"No, I know. It's not that." She shifted herself on the bed so that her shoulders were touching Elphaba's. Gone completely was the confident, in-charge Glinda Elphaba had seen earlier; this Glinda was quiet and meek and asking to be comforted. "It's - I've been thinking - do you know much about Gillikin law?"
"Not really," Elphaba admitted.
"I've always been rather - free," Glinda said, "you know, being their only child, knowing my father wouldn't force me to do anything I really didn't want to do. But - if I have a brother, Elphie, no matter how old he is, he'll have the right to make me do anything - to make decisions for me, if my father dies - until I'm married." She pulled Elphaba's hand into her lap and wrapped both of hers around it. "You understand, I could have a brother I barely even know who will be able to choose a husband for me, to decide where I should live, and I won't have a choice. The Emerald City isn't outside Gillikin customary law, it won't change anything for me to live there."
"Surely," Elphaba said, "any brother raised by your parents wouldn't treat you like that, or try to control you . . ." But her tone didn't carry the conviction she would have liked. Glinda was right, this new sibling would barely know her. And if it were a boy, a boy raised in such privilege and benign indulgence, allowed to believe the world revolved around his every whim . . . "And anyway," she said weakly, "you might have a sister. And your father is young and healthy and he could live forever. It's not time to panic yet."
"It's going to be a brother," Glinda said softly. "I'm sure of that, anyway. I just am. And I don't think he'll like me very much."
Elphaba didn't really know what to say to that.