Defying Gravity 7/?, by ainsleyaisling
Title: Defying Gravity, 7/?
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: R
'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: Elphaba tries to save the world, and Fiyero receives some disconcerting information.
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.
And also more Notes: My internet isn't working so well (it's a shock it's on right now, actually), so I owe lots of people comments, and also, don't be offended if I don't reply right away if you comment - they're supposed to fix my internet tomorrow, so hopefully all will be well then.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda examined her face carefully in the mirror before she even thought of stepping out of the bathroom. While Elphaba was relating the story of what she and Fiyero had seen the day before Glinda had managed to be mostly concerned for Elphaba, and horrified that she'd had to witness such a thing. More than that - to think about the Animal itself, and about what was clearly happening in the City under their noses - she didn't allow herself until Elphaba had gone off to the Wizard's private library to look for obscure spellbooks, and Glinda had tucked herself away in a bath. Then, suddenly, she'd found herself crying so hard that she'd had to tuck her face into her knees, just to stop the aching in her stomach.
Elphaba had enough to worry about, however, and Glinda had heard her come in a while ago. So she applied a great deal of cold water and a few careful strategic touches of makeup to her face, and stood combing her hair straight until she felt more or less calm again; then she went out into the sitting room.
When she saw Elphaba, Glinda's trailing hand immediately caught the bathroom door to keep it from slamming, and her lips clamped shut over her intended greeting. She eased the door silently closed, never taking her eyes from Elphaba's crouched form.
There was an old, nearly crumbling book on the floor in front of her, and the Grimmerie lay open to one side, but Elphaba wasn't looking at either of them. She was staring hard at a large, glowing green sphere with fuzzed edges that she held between her cupped hands. Glinda would have thought it was the location spell Elphaba had created, done wrong, except that the sphere was so much larger than usual.
Glinda crept quietly closer to Elphaba, who didn't seem to notice her. Flickering through the sphere were images of all sorts of animals - Animals probably, as many of them were wearing clothes or engaged in obviously un-animal activities such as holding books or using tools - all looking rather ragged and poor, and some clearly near to death.
As Glinda stood motionless, afraid even to blink, Elphaba slowly shifted the sphere with its continuing show of images into the palm of her left hand. Her right formed a silent pattern in the air, fingers curling, as she peered past her own hands to the book on the floor. Glinda held her breath. Elphaba frowned in concentration at her empty hand until a pinkish sphere appeared hovering over it, this one empty but somehow more solid looking than the location spell. While Glinda watched, she brought the two spheres slowly toward one another, spreading the fingers of her right hand wide and somehow enlarging the sphere in that hand. For a moment the spheres appeared to merge; then the one holding the images of Animals was contained completely inside the pinkish one. Elphaba lifted her hands slightly, and the double sphere rose into the air over them.
Glinda bit her lip to keep herself from asking questions. She feared any interruption would be fatal to whatever Elphaba was trying to do. Elphaba was framing the spheres now with her hands, although by now the whole thing was much larger than the span of her hands could possibly match, and she was whispering something very softly with frequent glances at the book at her feet. Then, with a quiet sound like a small rush of wind, the spheres vanished. Elphaba held still for a moment; then her fingers curled in and she dropped her arms to her sides.
Glinda stared for another moment before whispering, "What did you do?"
Elphaba turned to look over her shoulder, but didn't seem surprised to see her there. "I'm not exactly sure," she said.
"What were you trying to do?"
"I was trying to . . ." Elphaba swallowed and started again. "I found this protection spell, in one of the old books in the Wizard's library - I'm not certain what it's actually supposed to do, or how it works, but it's intended to keep harm from befalling the subject."
Glinda took a few tentative steps closer, still afraid of disturbing the mood. "And who did you cast it on?"
"Well." Elphaba turned and looked out the window over the City. "I tried to modify the location spell so it would show me all the Animals still living in hiding in the City, one at a time - not just big groups."
"And you tried to cast it on all of them," Glinda guessed.
"I tried," Elphaba agreed. "Your guess is as good as mine, whether it worked."
"So that's what was in that first sphere." Glinda came all the way to Elphaba's side and peered out over the City skyline as well, though she had no idea of what she was looking for, if anything. "You used it to - capture all the Animals in the City."
"To capture the thought of them, anyway," Elphaba said. "I'm not sure if that's good enough - I thought maybe, because you can cast a spell on someone without having them right in front of you, as long as you keep the thought of them strong enough. So if I had a way to collect together thoughts of all the Animals . . ."
"That sounds right to me." Glinda brushed her hand against Elphaba's to get her attention. "Are you feeling well? You look pale."
Elphaba nodded. "I'm all right. It was . . . difficult."
"The spell?"
"I felt - it took a lot of strength. I felt a bit dizzy for a moment." Glinda reached out, but Elphaba quickly said, "It's all right now. I'm fine."
"Well, sit down, anyway." Glinda tugged at Elphaba's hand. "Unless you were watching for something?"
"No. Not really." As soon as the words were out of Elphaba's mouth a thunderclap shook the building. They both turned back to the window to look, but the sky remained blue and clear. Elphaba's dark eyes seemed to unfocus slightly for a moment, and she wavered on her feet and reached for Glinda's elbow to steady herself.
"Do you see something I don't?" Glinda asked, without really knowing that that was what she had planned to say.
Elphaba hesitated, but shook her head. "No. I don't see anything."
"Then come and sit, you're shaking."
Elphaba allowed herself to be led to the sofa and sank down on it ungracefully. Glinda hovered nearby and watched her face until Elphaba finally reached up, took hold of Glinda's arm, and pulled her down onto the sofa as well.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Glinda asked.
"I feel much better already," Elphaba promised. "I was just tired."
"Drained, more like," Glinda said. "I'm not sure you should try another spell like that again."
"Not soon, anyway." Before Glinda had time to be surprised at her agreement, Elphaba continued, "I wonder if there's a way to tell, how much energy a spell will use from the caster. Do you think?"
It was unlike her to be so impractical. "Well, for spells that anyone has ever performed before, surely someone must have written down if it drained all their power. Don't you think?" Glinda pointed out.
"I suppose," Elphaba said quietly.
Glinda took her hand to distract her. "Do you think there's a way to test your spell?"
"Without knowing how it's supposed to work? I'll have to think about it."
"We should ask Fiyero. Ask him to pay attention, I mean. Wouldn't he know if the Guards suddenly stopped finding Animals, or found they were unable to harm them?"
"I suppose he would," Elphaba agreed. "Unless the others start hiding things from him. If he seems to be too much on our side."
Glinda raised one shoulder. "Who knows what our side even is, other than us?"
"That's a fair point."
~~Fiyero~~
Fiyero was conscious of the other men's stares on him as he made his way to the bar, though he was uncertain whether it might just be because he was an officer, or because of his birth, or some reason other than the one he feared. It seemed a bit too likely, however, that the men from the other unit, from the previous day, were remembering his actions toward Elphaba and drawing - what conclusions? There were almost too many possibilities to count. Even his own men, who had known all along that he knew her, had seemed startled by actually seeing them together. Quite possibly he shouldn't have manhandled her in public as much as he had; on the other hand, if it had looked violent enough, that seemed to be how some of the Guards were in the habit of treating her anyway. Or had been. He couldn't dwell on that - he couldn't afford to get angry, after all.
"You're the Winkie prince."
A pint of ale in his hand, Fiyero turned to face a man he didn't recognize. The ribbons on his uniform indicated he was an officer of some rank, though not as high as his own (to be honest, Fiyero hadn't bothered to memorize all of the ranks below him, feeling he could stay out of trouble if he could manage to remember the ones above). Cautiously, he nodded and took a sip of his ale.
The other Guard held out a hand, cool and damp with the condensation from his own glass. "Breqen."
"A Munchkinlander," Fiyero said.
"That's right. Most of my unit are." He hesitated, and filled the silence by taking a long drink. When he had swallowed he said, "You know our Governor's daughter, I hear."
"Both of them," Fiyero said almost automatically. "The younger was a schoolmate as well."
"Oh right. I forget about her, she's a bit less . . ."
"Noticeable?"
"That. And memorable." For a while Breqen leaned on the bar, tapping his fingers. It was obvious he had more to say, or else he would have left. Finally he asked, "So is it really true, that she's a witch?" The way he said "she" made it clear, if the context hadn't, that he was no longer talking about Nessarose.
Fiyero paused for a moment over the word "witch" but said, "More or less."
"They've been saying that about her for years, you know," the Munchkinlander said. "It was the local scandal, like. I guess making it official, it's not so bad."
"Scandal?" Fiyero asked.
"Well, you know. Things happened around her."
"I'm familiar with those 'things.'"
"So." Breqen nodded. "With it all out in the open, it's less suspicious. Less - weird."
Fiyero raised his eyebrows over his ale. "Finding out that she has more power than people thought makes it less weird?"
"Don't get me wrong, she's still a bit scary."
"Yes," Fiyero agreed.
"Not that anybody likes to admit they're scared of a woman. 'Course they liked even less to admit they were scared of a little girl, back in the day."
As much as Fiyero still wondered what the man wanted with him, the unexpected glimpse into Elphaba's background was fascinating. "So," he asked, "she's always been able to do . . . things? Even when she was young?"
"That's what people said," Breqen agreed. "Though of course, some of them been calling her a witch since the minute word got out she was born. Because of the green."
"I wouldn't have thought it was necessarily a witchy color."
Breqen grinned. "If it wasn't before, you can bet it will be now. But we're superstitious, we Munchkins. Especially the little ones. Anything born different they think is a witch, whether it's a girl or a sheep. Though a sheep they'd kill. The Governor's child is a bit different."
Fiyero made a face. "You'd think."
"So." Breqen leaned onto the bar again. "Some of the other Munchkinlanders - well . . ." He coughed. "Well, people have all sorts of reasons for joining the Guard, don't they?"
Fiyero frowned. "I guess. Why?"
"Just, some units are more useful than others, for getting to those reasons. You follow?"
"Not really."
The other man looked as if he were sizing Fiyero up. It was an unaccustomed feeling for Fiyero, and not an entirely comfortable one. "You know her well, don't you?"
"Elphaba?"
Breqen nodded. "Around the barracks, you know, you hear things."
Now Fiyero was just confused. "I hear things?"
"No - uh - I mean, people hear things."
"What do they hear?"
"That you . . ." Breqen shrugged. "Know her well. Her and Glinda."
"We were classmates," Fiyero said, shaking his head slowly. "Everyone knows that."
"I mean - well."
Some small inkling of what was actually being said drifted its way into Fiyero's mind, but it didn't help him figure out how that connected to anything else they had discussed. "What do people hear?" he asked again, firmly, hoping for the direct answer.
The other man glanced back over both shoulders. "That you're . . . oh, you know."
"If I did, I wouldn't be asking."
"There's not really a polite way . . ."
Fiyero glared. "We're in a pub, go with the impolite way then."
Breqen raised his glass to his lips, as if trying to block them from possible lip-readers. "That you're having both of them."
Although Fiyero had been prepared to be nonchalant, surprise got the better of him. "I - what - did you say both?"
"So you are, with one of them?"
He was so caught off guard that his mouth had started to form the "no" before he remembered to be circumspect. "I . . . think that's my business."
A small smile played around the other man's mouth. "Well, all right. I just wanted to know, whether Munchkinlanders would be welcome if they wanted to transfer into your unit."
This seemed so thoroughly unrelated to the bomb that had just been dropped that Fiyero stared in silence for a moment. "Into my unit?"
"Word is, your unit might be a good place for a Munchkinlander wanting to do some good for the homeland." This last was practically whispered, and however unwillingly, Fiyero had to lean closer to hear it.
He shook his head as he straightened. "Anyone is welcome in my unit, but I don't think I control who gets to transfer to it."
"As long as you'd accept them." Breqen clanked his glass against Fiyero's, said, "Cheers," and moved off into the crowd.
Although he was torn between confusion and shock, shock began to pale at the edges and confusion took over as Fiyero made his way toward the Palace. It was odd, though not completely unpredictable, that the other men would get the idea that he had some sort of relationship with either Glinda or Elphaba. That they apparently thought he could manage both was a surprise - he was briefly distracted by wondering what they thought Glinda and Elphaba made of each other, in that case, or perhaps neither was supposed to know about the other? - but that didn't explain Breqen's bizarre question about Fiyero's unit. Except . . .
Glinda seemed pleased to see him when she opened their door, but it was Elphaba he needed. She stood up from the sofa when she saw him enter, and he made certain Glinda had shut the door securely behind him before he announced, "I think another officer just asked me if I'm connected with the Munchkinland Resistance."
Author: ainsleyaisling
Rating: R
'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: Elphaba tries to save the world, and Fiyero receives some disconcerting information.
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.
And also more Notes: My internet isn't working so well (it's a shock it's on right now, actually), so I owe lots of people comments, and also, don't be offended if I don't reply right away if you comment - they're supposed to fix my internet tomorrow, so hopefully all will be well then.
~~Glinda~~
Glinda examined her face carefully in the mirror before she even thought of stepping out of the bathroom. While Elphaba was relating the story of what she and Fiyero had seen the day before Glinda had managed to be mostly concerned for Elphaba, and horrified that she'd had to witness such a thing. More than that - to think about the Animal itself, and about what was clearly happening in the City under their noses - she didn't allow herself until Elphaba had gone off to the Wizard's private library to look for obscure spellbooks, and Glinda had tucked herself away in a bath. Then, suddenly, she'd found herself crying so hard that she'd had to tuck her face into her knees, just to stop the aching in her stomach.
Elphaba had enough to worry about, however, and Glinda had heard her come in a while ago. So she applied a great deal of cold water and a few careful strategic touches of makeup to her face, and stood combing her hair straight until she felt more or less calm again; then she went out into the sitting room.
When she saw Elphaba, Glinda's trailing hand immediately caught the bathroom door to keep it from slamming, and her lips clamped shut over her intended greeting. She eased the door silently closed, never taking her eyes from Elphaba's crouched form.
There was an old, nearly crumbling book on the floor in front of her, and the Grimmerie lay open to one side, but Elphaba wasn't looking at either of them. She was staring hard at a large, glowing green sphere with fuzzed edges that she held between her cupped hands. Glinda would have thought it was the location spell Elphaba had created, done wrong, except that the sphere was so much larger than usual.
Glinda crept quietly closer to Elphaba, who didn't seem to notice her. Flickering through the sphere were images of all sorts of animals - Animals probably, as many of them were wearing clothes or engaged in obviously un-animal activities such as holding books or using tools - all looking rather ragged and poor, and some clearly near to death.
As Glinda stood motionless, afraid even to blink, Elphaba slowly shifted the sphere with its continuing show of images into the palm of her left hand. Her right formed a silent pattern in the air, fingers curling, as she peered past her own hands to the book on the floor. Glinda held her breath. Elphaba frowned in concentration at her empty hand until a pinkish sphere appeared hovering over it, this one empty but somehow more solid looking than the location spell. While Glinda watched, she brought the two spheres slowly toward one another, spreading the fingers of her right hand wide and somehow enlarging the sphere in that hand. For a moment the spheres appeared to merge; then the one holding the images of Animals was contained completely inside the pinkish one. Elphaba lifted her hands slightly, and the double sphere rose into the air over them.
Glinda bit her lip to keep herself from asking questions. She feared any interruption would be fatal to whatever Elphaba was trying to do. Elphaba was framing the spheres now with her hands, although by now the whole thing was much larger than the span of her hands could possibly match, and she was whispering something very softly with frequent glances at the book at her feet. Then, with a quiet sound like a small rush of wind, the spheres vanished. Elphaba held still for a moment; then her fingers curled in and she dropped her arms to her sides.
Glinda stared for another moment before whispering, "What did you do?"
Elphaba turned to look over her shoulder, but didn't seem surprised to see her there. "I'm not exactly sure," she said.
"What were you trying to do?"
"I was trying to . . ." Elphaba swallowed and started again. "I found this protection spell, in one of the old books in the Wizard's library - I'm not certain what it's actually supposed to do, or how it works, but it's intended to keep harm from befalling the subject."
Glinda took a few tentative steps closer, still afraid of disturbing the mood. "And who did you cast it on?"
"Well." Elphaba turned and looked out the window over the City. "I tried to modify the location spell so it would show me all the Animals still living in hiding in the City, one at a time - not just big groups."
"And you tried to cast it on all of them," Glinda guessed.
"I tried," Elphaba agreed. "Your guess is as good as mine, whether it worked."
"So that's what was in that first sphere." Glinda came all the way to Elphaba's side and peered out over the City skyline as well, though she had no idea of what she was looking for, if anything. "You used it to - capture all the Animals in the City."
"To capture the thought of them, anyway," Elphaba said. "I'm not sure if that's good enough - I thought maybe, because you can cast a spell on someone without having them right in front of you, as long as you keep the thought of them strong enough. So if I had a way to collect together thoughts of all the Animals . . ."
"That sounds right to me." Glinda brushed her hand against Elphaba's to get her attention. "Are you feeling well? You look pale."
Elphaba nodded. "I'm all right. It was . . . difficult."
"The spell?"
"I felt - it took a lot of strength. I felt a bit dizzy for a moment." Glinda reached out, but Elphaba quickly said, "It's all right now. I'm fine."
"Well, sit down, anyway." Glinda tugged at Elphaba's hand. "Unless you were watching for something?"
"No. Not really." As soon as the words were out of Elphaba's mouth a thunderclap shook the building. They both turned back to the window to look, but the sky remained blue and clear. Elphaba's dark eyes seemed to unfocus slightly for a moment, and she wavered on her feet and reached for Glinda's elbow to steady herself.
"Do you see something I don't?" Glinda asked, without really knowing that that was what she had planned to say.
Elphaba hesitated, but shook her head. "No. I don't see anything."
"Then come and sit, you're shaking."
Elphaba allowed herself to be led to the sofa and sank down on it ungracefully. Glinda hovered nearby and watched her face until Elphaba finally reached up, took hold of Glinda's arm, and pulled her down onto the sofa as well.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Glinda asked.
"I feel much better already," Elphaba promised. "I was just tired."
"Drained, more like," Glinda said. "I'm not sure you should try another spell like that again."
"Not soon, anyway." Before Glinda had time to be surprised at her agreement, Elphaba continued, "I wonder if there's a way to tell, how much energy a spell will use from the caster. Do you think?"
It was unlike her to be so impractical. "Well, for spells that anyone has ever performed before, surely someone must have written down if it drained all their power. Don't you think?" Glinda pointed out.
"I suppose," Elphaba said quietly.
Glinda took her hand to distract her. "Do you think there's a way to test your spell?"
"Without knowing how it's supposed to work? I'll have to think about it."
"We should ask Fiyero. Ask him to pay attention, I mean. Wouldn't he know if the Guards suddenly stopped finding Animals, or found they were unable to harm them?"
"I suppose he would," Elphaba agreed. "Unless the others start hiding things from him. If he seems to be too much on our side."
Glinda raised one shoulder. "Who knows what our side even is, other than us?"
"That's a fair point."
~~Fiyero~~
Fiyero was conscious of the other men's stares on him as he made his way to the bar, though he was uncertain whether it might just be because he was an officer, or because of his birth, or some reason other than the one he feared. It seemed a bit too likely, however, that the men from the other unit, from the previous day, were remembering his actions toward Elphaba and drawing - what conclusions? There were almost too many possibilities to count. Even his own men, who had known all along that he knew her, had seemed startled by actually seeing them together. Quite possibly he shouldn't have manhandled her in public as much as he had; on the other hand, if it had looked violent enough, that seemed to be how some of the Guards were in the habit of treating her anyway. Or had been. He couldn't dwell on that - he couldn't afford to get angry, after all.
"You're the Winkie prince."
A pint of ale in his hand, Fiyero turned to face a man he didn't recognize. The ribbons on his uniform indicated he was an officer of some rank, though not as high as his own (to be honest, Fiyero hadn't bothered to memorize all of the ranks below him, feeling he could stay out of trouble if he could manage to remember the ones above). Cautiously, he nodded and took a sip of his ale.
The other Guard held out a hand, cool and damp with the condensation from his own glass. "Breqen."
"A Munchkinlander," Fiyero said.
"That's right. Most of my unit are." He hesitated, and filled the silence by taking a long drink. When he had swallowed he said, "You know our Governor's daughter, I hear."
"Both of them," Fiyero said almost automatically. "The younger was a schoolmate as well."
"Oh right. I forget about her, she's a bit less . . ."
"Noticeable?"
"That. And memorable." For a while Breqen leaned on the bar, tapping his fingers. It was obvious he had more to say, or else he would have left. Finally he asked, "So is it really true, that she's a witch?" The way he said "she" made it clear, if the context hadn't, that he was no longer talking about Nessarose.
Fiyero paused for a moment over the word "witch" but said, "More or less."
"They've been saying that about her for years, you know," the Munchkinlander said. "It was the local scandal, like. I guess making it official, it's not so bad."
"Scandal?" Fiyero asked.
"Well, you know. Things happened around her."
"I'm familiar with those 'things.'"
"So." Breqen nodded. "With it all out in the open, it's less suspicious. Less - weird."
Fiyero raised his eyebrows over his ale. "Finding out that she has more power than people thought makes it less weird?"
"Don't get me wrong, she's still a bit scary."
"Yes," Fiyero agreed.
"Not that anybody likes to admit they're scared of a woman. 'Course they liked even less to admit they were scared of a little girl, back in the day."
As much as Fiyero still wondered what the man wanted with him, the unexpected glimpse into Elphaba's background was fascinating. "So," he asked, "she's always been able to do . . . things? Even when she was young?"
"That's what people said," Breqen agreed. "Though of course, some of them been calling her a witch since the minute word got out she was born. Because of the green."
"I wouldn't have thought it was necessarily a witchy color."
Breqen grinned. "If it wasn't before, you can bet it will be now. But we're superstitious, we Munchkins. Especially the little ones. Anything born different they think is a witch, whether it's a girl or a sheep. Though a sheep they'd kill. The Governor's child is a bit different."
Fiyero made a face. "You'd think."
"So." Breqen leaned onto the bar again. "Some of the other Munchkinlanders - well . . ." He coughed. "Well, people have all sorts of reasons for joining the Guard, don't they?"
Fiyero frowned. "I guess. Why?"
"Just, some units are more useful than others, for getting to those reasons. You follow?"
"Not really."
The other man looked as if he were sizing Fiyero up. It was an unaccustomed feeling for Fiyero, and not an entirely comfortable one. "You know her well, don't you?"
"Elphaba?"
Breqen nodded. "Around the barracks, you know, you hear things."
Now Fiyero was just confused. "I hear things?"
"No - uh - I mean, people hear things."
"What do they hear?"
"That you . . ." Breqen shrugged. "Know her well. Her and Glinda."
"We were classmates," Fiyero said, shaking his head slowly. "Everyone knows that."
"I mean - well."
Some small inkling of what was actually being said drifted its way into Fiyero's mind, but it didn't help him figure out how that connected to anything else they had discussed. "What do people hear?" he asked again, firmly, hoping for the direct answer.
The other man glanced back over both shoulders. "That you're . . . oh, you know."
"If I did, I wouldn't be asking."
"There's not really a polite way . . ."
Fiyero glared. "We're in a pub, go with the impolite way then."
Breqen raised his glass to his lips, as if trying to block them from possible lip-readers. "That you're having both of them."
Although Fiyero had been prepared to be nonchalant, surprise got the better of him. "I - what - did you say both?"
"So you are, with one of them?"
He was so caught off guard that his mouth had started to form the "no" before he remembered to be circumspect. "I . . . think that's my business."
A small smile played around the other man's mouth. "Well, all right. I just wanted to know, whether Munchkinlanders would be welcome if they wanted to transfer into your unit."
This seemed so thoroughly unrelated to the bomb that had just been dropped that Fiyero stared in silence for a moment. "Into my unit?"
"Word is, your unit might be a good place for a Munchkinlander wanting to do some good for the homeland." This last was practically whispered, and however unwillingly, Fiyero had to lean closer to hear it.
He shook his head as he straightened. "Anyone is welcome in my unit, but I don't think I control who gets to transfer to it."
"As long as you'd accept them." Breqen clanked his glass against Fiyero's, said, "Cheers," and moved off into the crowd.
Although he was torn between confusion and shock, shock began to pale at the edges and confusion took over as Fiyero made his way toward the Palace. It was odd, though not completely unpredictable, that the other men would get the idea that he had some sort of relationship with either Glinda or Elphaba. That they apparently thought he could manage both was a surprise - he was briefly distracted by wondering what they thought Glinda and Elphaba made of each other, in that case, or perhaps neither was supposed to know about the other? - but that didn't explain Breqen's bizarre question about Fiyero's unit. Except . . .
Glinda seemed pleased to see him when she opened their door, but it was Elphaba he needed. She stood up from the sofa when she saw him enter, and he made certain Glinda had shut the door securely behind him before he announced, "I think another officer just asked me if I'm connected with the Munchkinland Resistance."