Defying Gravity, 2/?, by ainsleyaisling

Jul 16, 2007 19:12

Title: Defying Gravity, 2/?
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: Much ado about a marriage proposal, and some other things.
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 can be found here. The previous chapter of this story can be found here.


~~Glinda~~

By Elphaba's second straight day of sitting in the middle of the parlor floor with papers spread all around her and her face turned firmly into a book, Glinda was beginning to grow just a bit tired of the silence. It didn't especially help that she had new spells to practice, although they were big and showy ones with rather pretty effects, because they were also not terribly difficult. She didn't really want to interrupt Elphaba, and she understood of course that at stake was a spell that could be wildly misused to cause all sorts of havoc. But she was also used to Elphaba paying at least a bit more attention to her than this, even when she was deep in study.

When the knock on the door came, therefore, and she got up to answer it, she delivered a ringing smack to the side of Elphaba's head on her way past.

Elphaba, perversely, didn't even make much of a sound at that. She looked up at Glinda and asked calmly, "What was that for?"

"Can't talk now, I've got to get the door," Glinda said airily. Ignoring Elphaba's expression, she pulled the heavy door open and greeted the uniformed Palace messenger with a smile. "Hello."

He bowed quickly, his broad grin mirroring hers, and held out a letter. "For Miss Glinda."

"Who's that from?" Elphaba asked as Glinda shut the door. She appeared to have been sufficiently jarred out of her reverie, at least.

"No idea." Glinda turned the letter over and read the front. "Someone from home, I'd guess - it says 'Galinda.'" She slid her finger carefully under the seal and pried it open.

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain why you've started beating me?"

"Just to see what you'd do." The seal gave finally and she paced back across the room, her attention on the unfolding letter in her hands. She was therefore rather surprised when Elphaba took hold of her elbow as she passed and yanked her abruptly down to the floor. Glinda's affronted glare was met only by a pleased smile. "I suppose that was revenge?" she said.

"Oh no, that'll come later when you're not expecting it."

"I wasn't expecting that."

"Then I get revenge twice, I guess." Elphaba leaned carefully over the small stack of parchment that separated them. "So what is it?"

"Nothing that merits us sitting in the middle of the floor like heathens."

"I notice you're not getting up," Elphaba pointed out. "So?"

Glinda sighed and unfolded the letter the rest of the way. The handwriting was ornate, formal, and unfamiliar; the address stilted. "Oh dear," she said as she began to read.

"What?"

"It's from . . ." She skimmed down to the signature, looking for a fast answer. "The Governor-Resident of Quadling country - no, wait, it's from his secretary."

"What does the Governor-Resident's secretary want with you?"

"To marry me," Glinda said flatly. "I mean, the Governor does, not his secretary."

"To - do you even know him?"

"Apparently we were introduced at the ball the other night. He's Gillikinese you know, the Governor."

"I know; the Governor of Gillikin is about as likely to invite an actual Quadling to his ball as the Wizard is to allow the Quadlings to govern themselves." Elphaba frowned. "You don't remember meeting him?"

"No, but there were so many people, and Fiyero knew most of them by sight, so I stopped paying attention," Glinda admitted. "He knew all the important ones; I figured he'd keep me out of trouble."

"Well, he seems to have been successful," Elphaba said. "Except for the part where you impressed the Governor-Resident of Quadling country without even realizing it."

"This is exactly the kind of trouble he was supposed to be helping me to avoid."

"I thought he was supposed to be keeping you out of danger."

"There are many kinds of danger," Glinda said darkly. She looked over at Elphaba, who had both hands pressed tightly to her mouth. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No," Elphaba said, though her hands trembled and her eyes sparkled suspiciously.

"You're laughing at me," Glinda repeated incredulously. "I count on you for your support, you know."

"I know." Elphaba finally dropped her hands from her face, letting Glinda see her amused expression. "It's just - when I pictured your first bothersome proposal, I expected you'd at least be able to remember meeting the potential bridegroom."

"He doesn't care whether we've met," Glinda said, waving the letter. "It's all there between the lines. He wants someone suitable and proper and 'vigorous' enough for life in the South."

"Meaning, you're young and you're pretty."

"And what else could possibly matter?" Glinda glared at the stacks of papers surrounding Elphaba for a moment, then carefully moved one of them so that she could edge closer and lean against Elphaba's shoulder. "And because you laughed," she said, once she was settled, "you're going to help me write my refusal."

"I suspect you're better at such things than I am," Elphaba pointed out. "I seldom have to refuse anything."

"This isn't even my first bothersome proposal," Glinda said, shifting herself against Elphaba. "Boq offered to marry me once."

"That was very polite of him."

"It was, actually. Very well-put." She skimmed the letter again and groaned quietly. "Oh, no. He's writing to my parents."

"That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

"No," Glinda conceded. "Quadling Country is far away and uncivilized -"

"To you."

"To my parents, which is what matters. And he's not really very rich or very important, and I've barely met him. I have plenty of acceptable reasons for refusing. Anyway I wouldn't be expected to take the first offer that came along. I'd look desperate."

"We wouldn't want that."

Glinda narrowed her eyes, twisting to look up at the underside of Elphaba's jaw. "You're laughing again."

"I am not." Elphaba freed one arm and wrapped it around Glinda's shoulders, probably as a conciliatory gesture. "And I do remember how you feel about all this. It's just that this one doesn't seem so dangerous, does he?"

"No," Glinda said, fully aware that she sounded sulky. "I think I'd better write my parents first and let them know I intend to refuse, so they aren't caught in an awkward place. I know they wouldn't contact him without hearing from me. I just . . ."

"What?" Elphaba asked, giving her a gentle shake with the arm that was still holding her.

"I thought I'd have more time before I had to worry about all this. I've been in the City barely a month; I don't even know anyone."

"Well," Elphaba said, "you're pretty. And you're famous. Things are bound to happen. I wouldn't be surprised if you actually did start getting proposals from men who've never seen you in person at all."

"Wouldn't that be lovely." Glinda reached over and patted Elphaba's knee. "What about you?" she asked, letting the teasing note chase the melancholy from her tone.

"Me? I'm more likely to get proposals from men who've never seen me in person, than from those who have," Elphaba said, laughing just a little although Glinda could tell it was purely for her sake. "Especially if they've never read a newspaper."

"That's not true," Glinda said. "Yours will all be from people who've gotten to know you well enough to appreciate your charming temperament."

"Now you're just being mean."

"I am completely sincere." Glinda reached up and took hold of Elphaba's face with both hands, and pulled her down until she could kiss her twice, in rapid succession, on the cheek. "And now I'm going to leave you alone and let you work, since I'm sure you've been itching to tell me to shut up and go away."

"Never," Elphaba said. "But thank you."

Glinda laughed as she pulled herself to her feet. "Are you having any luck, or are you just staring aimlessly into old books?"

"I have an idea of what to do," Elphaba replied. "As far as controlling how the spell can be used, anyway."

"Really?"

Elphaba nodded. "Now I just have to figure out how to actually modify it - how to do what he asked for in the first place."

"Well." Glinda reached down and rested her hand for a moment on top of Elphaba's head. "I have faith."

Elphaba smiled up at her and said, "Thanks."

~~Elphaba~~

The second-year sorcery instruction textbook was set aside with a ribbon marking the page she needed, and ribbons of other colors marking randomly chosen other pages, just to throw off anyone who might go poking around in her books. It seemed straightforward enough, to un-layer a spell and choose a small but critically important layer to remove, so that the spell would fail without misfiring in a dangerous way. It was straightforward, conceptually, but actually doing it was a bit more complicated. And just figuring out how to take apart the spell at all was threatening to give her a headache.

A firm knock sounded at the door and she looked up in a quiet sort of despair, surrounded by a circle of growing stacks of books and parchment. "Come in?" she called, hoping that anyone truly dangerous wouldn't have been allowed to knock. The six guards ought to be doing something, after all, aside from probably monitoring their visitors and reporting back to the Wizard.

The door opened slowly and Fiyero peered in. "Ah," he said upon spotting Elphaba, and pushed the door shut behind him. "I see the problem."

"It wasn't a problem until now," she said pleasantly.

"You've made yourself an island," he observed, coming closer. "On purpose?"

"Yes. As a defense against marauding princes." She accepted his extended hand and used it to pull herself to her feet and step carefully out of her tiny prison.

"Well, I wasn't planning to maraud anyone, so I guess we're all right." He pressed her hand between both of his for a moment before letting it go. "What are you doing?"

She looked down at the stacks of books to cover her momentary confusion and the unwelcome flush that threatened to steal over her face. "Trying to figure out how to make a spell that looks good, but that no one can perform but me."

"You're drunk with power?"

She laughed and turned her gaze back to his face. "I'm trying to keep it out of the hands of those who are. It would be all right for Glinda to be able to do it. Actually, that would be perfect. A nice touch of irony."

"Irony?"

"I'd try to explain, but I think that would only make it worse." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Were you looking for Glinda?"

"Yes, actually," he replied. "I heard her non-effort the other night yielded some unexpected fruit."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Third- or fourth-hand, from another officer. Apparently it's fairly common knowledge among the guards at the Governor-Resident's house in the City."

"His secretary must have a loose tongue," Elphaba said. "Glinda won't be happy to hear that it's gotten out. She expected it would be a quiet offer, quietly refused."

"So she plans to refuse?" She shot him a look and he laughed. "All right. I won't tease."

"You'd better not, she blames you already."

"Me? How is it my fault?" He slipped behind her and sat down on the sofa, still grinning. "We had our photograph in three different newspapers. One of them called it a royal scandal. I've done my part."

"A royal scandal? Can it really be the first time a newspaper's had a photograph of you with a girl?"

"It is, in fact. I'm very good at not having my photograph taken, when I don't want it to be."

"I see."

"Don't look so disapproving, Miss Elphaba. I'll tell you a secret . . ."

She inclined her head, but didn't say anything.

"I don't think I've done half the things I've gotten credit for."

"Well, your storied reputation ought to be useful to Glinda, anyway."

"I'd be glad if it were. So far it's mostly been useful for annoying my parents. And they've been ridiculously pleased with me lately, so it's not even very good for that." His eyes wandered to the circle of books she'd left in the middle of the floor. "Am I bothering you?"

"No," she sighed, her eyes following his. "I think I'm stuck anyway. I need . . ."

"What?"

"I don't know. To talk to Glinda, maybe. Or to think about something else for an hour."

"How's Nessa?"

She looked at him for a moment, wondering if this really was a transparent attempt to get her to talk about something else, then decided she didn't care. "I think she's all right. I haven't had an answer to my last letter, but she can be slow to write when she's preoccupied."

"What's she preoccupied with?" Fiyero asked.

Elphaba smiled. "I'd know, if she were to answer my letters. But I suspect it's the usual. Our father's been trying to train her a bit more, to take over from him, and she finds it difficult."

"I remember her being quite good at political science."

"She is, I think." Elphaba finally decided to stop shifting awkwardly on her feet and settled onto the sofa, a respectable distance away from Fiyero. "But she's - well, she's used to giving orders to servants. And to me," she added, expecting him to laugh. She wasn't disappointed. "But she's used to giving them in a household where everyone's always coddled her and done anything she asked, right off."

"And the general population of Munchkinland is not so inclined?" he guessed.

"The general population of Munchkinland is inclined to ask questions," Elphaba said. "And her advisors are inclined to argue with her, which is at least an improvement over Father's advisors, who are inclined to ignore her completely. At least according to Nessa. She has to learn how to make them listen to her without relying on fear, because no one outside of my father's servants is afraid of her. And they're only afraid of being fired."

"I feel that Nessa could be terrifying, if she really tried," Fiyero said. "She has a little bit of your . . ."

Elphaba raised an eyebrow in the silence. "My what?"

"Steel," he said finally, looking her firmly in the eye. "Though I doubt she's ever had to use it."

After a moment she had to blink and look away. "No," she said. "Not very often."

The door opened behind them and Glinda entered like a whirlwind. "Elphie!" she called. "Did you know that - oh. Hello, Fiyero."

He stood up and smiled brightly in her direction. "I came to apologize."

"You should," Glinda said, shooting him a mock glare. "I blame you entirely."

"Would you like me to fight him?"

She ignored this and turned her attention to Elphaba. "I suppose he's told you the entire Guard knows? It'll be all over the City by nightfall."

"You probably should have expected that," Elphaba said gently, still not sure of Glinda's mood.

"I know." Glinda shrugged and sank down onto the end of the sofa. "I'd better make sure my letter is very good; it'll probably be printed in Ozmopolitan."

"That's the spirit," Elphaba said. "Do you think it would help if Fiyero fought him?"

Glinda tried to glare and laughed instead. "I can't imagine it would, although it would probably be very entertaining."

"Elphaba would help me," Fiyero said. "With her wicked and unholy powers."

"Unless you'd like a personal demonstration of my wicked and unholy powers . . ." she began.

"I might, at that," he said.

She stared back at him for far too long, before remembering that no one was speaking. "Well," she said. "Since you haven't actually managed to apologize yet, I'll leave you to it."

"All right," Glinda said, looking somewhat concerned but keeping her thoughts to herself. "Be careful. I think it's about to storm."

"I won't go far," Elphaba promised. She nodded to Fiyero and hastily left the suite, almost running past the columns of guards outside the door.
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