Defying Gravity, 17/?, by ainsleyaisling
Title: Defying Gravity, 17/?
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: One more interlude to get us back into the story. Fiyero returns from Munchkinland.
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. Sorry for the astounding length of time between updates, but things should move along from here.
~~Fiyero~~
He found Glinda wandering the market alone, a basket over one arm. When he reached out to touch her elbow she immediately shrieked, drawing both elbows close to her sides, and whirled around with a look on her face that suggested she might be about to draw a weapon on him. He jumped back and actually lifted both empty hands in surrender, and even so it was a moment before recognition crossed her pretty face and she sighed. Her free hand pressed to her chest, but the expression on her face didn't soften much. "You're back," she said.
"You're jumpy. Has something happened?"
Glinda frowned and glanced around behind them, but she said, "No - no, nothing's -"
"Glinda," he said.
She shook her head, tidy curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I'll tell you about it later."
"Were you expecting someone else?"
Aha, that was the key. She said "no," but her eyes were guilty. Still, he clearly had nothing to gain from pushing her here in the crowded square. He held out his arm.
"Can we go somewhere?" he asked. "Lunch, maybe? I'd like to talk to you before I tell Elphaba - well, rather, about what I should tell Elphaba."
Instantly Glinda was on her guard again, hands clenching around the handle of her basket. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I just want to discuss - how much of my visit she needs to know about." He held out his hand more purposefully toward her basket. "Can I -"
Glinda pulled it back from his grasp and reached into it to straighten the cloth that covered its contents. "I'll carry it, thanks," she said. "But - of course, I'm sorry, we can go anywhere you like. Lead on."
He raised an eyebrow, but moved around to her other side to take her free arm and lead her to a quiet pub - not the one where he'd spoken to Rikk, he wouldn't take her to a place like that, but to someplace frequented mainly by merchants and suppliers, people who didn't read the gossip pages and wouldn't give two figs who they saw Glinda with. She was still glancing around nervously as if she expected to be followed, but they found their way to a table with no incident.
Once there Fiyero found he didn't quite know how to begin. He waited until someone had put tea in front of both of them and Glinda had slowly stirred sugar into hers to ask, "Have you ever been there?"
Glinda licked the tea off of her spoon and set it down on the saucer, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Where?"
"To - Munchkinland."
"Oh. No." She lifted her teacup but held it frozen in the air, not drinking. "Elphaba came to stay with us a few times, but she never seemed to think it was a good idea to invite me there. I didn't mind - I agreed with her." She sipped, grimaced slightly - from her thoughts, he gathered, not from the tea - and added, "Not that I wouldn't have faced any unpleasantness for her sake. But it didn't seem as though she should invite me, or anyone."
"I have to agree with you." Catching the nervous eye of the hostess of the establishment, who had clearly recognized him, he took a quick sip of his unsweetened tea and gave her a small nod and a smile to show it was all right. She smiled with relief in return and went back to busily brushing a table off with the towel that hung from her sash.
When Fiyero turned his attention back to Glinda, she was studying him intently with both hands wrapped around her teacup. "What happened?" she asked.
"It . . ." He shook his head and had another mouthful of strong, bitter tea to collect his thoughts. "Glinda, it's as if she never existed. I mean - I didn't expect much from him, from what little she's said, but I didn't expect that. Even Nessa looked as though she thought mentioning her sister might be a hanging offense."
Glinda's eyes glittered with something unidentifiable. "Nessa was afraid to talk about Elphaba with you?"
"Well." He struggled with his sense of fairness, trying to push aside the bitter feelings that had arisen at Nessa's obvious contentment with much of her situation. "I also think - it is pleasanter for her to forget Elphaba as much as possible. To put her aside, let herself be the lady of the manor, for once not burdened with her -" The bitterness was creeping into his tone. He stopped and took another drink.
He still couldn't read Glinda's expression. She seemed to be thinking about something as well, pausing to drink from her tea and to stare at the tabletop between them as if she were scrying in its surface. "Did you get the impression," she asked in time, "that she was over her head?"
"Nessarose?" He didn't hesitate. "Yes. She's made of steel, but will alone isn't enough. She lacks information, her father isn't telling her everything."
"He told you that?"
"No, but it was obvious. Meetings with his advisors while she met with tutors - or escorted me around the grounds - men coming in and out that she never saw. I got as much out of her as I could, under the auspices of an old and concerned friend, of course, but he's up to something she doesn't know about. It bothers me that I couldn't find out what." He frowned. "What made you ask that?"
"Something Elphaba said."
"She told me something similar once," he said. "She is still learning, but - well, I'm not sure whether the Governor's seriously training an heir, or keeping her out of his way. Maybe he hasn't decided yet."
"Do you think she's capable?" Glinda asked.
"Of what?" he asked rhetorically. "I don't know. Depends on what happens, I suppose. I hope the Governor knows what he's doing."
Glinda frowned into her tea for a moment before asking, "Was he very bad?"
"You've met him?"
Glinda nodded. "At graduation."
"He's -"
"I know."
"I really did not expect them to be - literally, pretending as best they could that she never happened. I mean, the servants still gossiped about her, but not where the Governor could hear -"
"Fiyero," Glinda said, pausing to smile at the hostess, who had come to set a plate of biscuits between them. When the woman had left, she continued, "I used to think it was exaggeration, a little, but having met him - he really does wish to pretend she never happened. She embarrasses him just by having existed. I used to think - well, I couldn't believe that a father could not have some feeling for his own child, no matter what. But I think knowing Elphaba has cured me of that particular brand of innocence."
"It's astonishing that she's as . . ." He didn't quite know what he wanted to say.
Glinda looked at him steadily across the table for a long while, holding him in her gaze, eyes so serious that he couldn't even fumble for words. Finally she said, "Fiyero - does she know?"
For half a second he really didn't know what she was asking, and then for another half second he thought about pretending he didn't. Glinda's eyes made it clear she wasn't going to be having any of that. He shook his head and said, "No."
"Why not?"
He looked back into that deep blue stare that had driven half the boys in their class mad, and said simply, "Because she doesn't want to."
Glinda held his eyes firmly with her own, but seemed to have nothing to say to that. At length she released him from what almost felt like the hold of a spell and reached one pale hand to worry at the edge of a biscuit.
"Glinda," he said boldly.
"Hmm?"
"Have you told her?"
She blinked. "That you -"
"No." He waited.
Glinda faltered and looked back down at the table. "Sometimes," she said, "we're not free to -"
"Glinda."
"She knows." She lifted her chin with a little show of determination. "But I'm not sure it matters. We're not always free to do exactly as we like."
He wasn't quite brave enough to ask any more specific questions, and wasn't completely certain he wanted the answers anyway. At any rate Glinda's feelings couldn't really be mistaken anymore, and Elphaba's - even if he had Elphaba there in front of him he suspected her feelings would be as inscrutable as ever. But then, after what he'd seen in Munchkinland, it was a wonder she was able to feel anything at all other than hurt. And, likewise, not so strange or wonderful that she should be so tied to Glinda, who offered her love on - he was beginning to understand - every possible level.
He looked at Glinda, and saw a fellow pilgrim, and realized that as long as the road was this difficult, it scarcely mattered that in the end only one of them could reach the goal of the journey. After all - considering what they all had to survive that was much more dangerous than each other - in the end it might be neither of them. He picked up his teacup and said, "Well, I'll have good news for Rikk. And now you need to help me decide how much to tell Elphaba about her father."
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: One more interlude to get us back into the story. Fiyero returns from Munchkinland.
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. Sorry for the astounding length of time between updates, but things should move along from here.
~~Fiyero~~
He found Glinda wandering the market alone, a basket over one arm. When he reached out to touch her elbow she immediately shrieked, drawing both elbows close to her sides, and whirled around with a look on her face that suggested she might be about to draw a weapon on him. He jumped back and actually lifted both empty hands in surrender, and even so it was a moment before recognition crossed her pretty face and she sighed. Her free hand pressed to her chest, but the expression on her face didn't soften much. "You're back," she said.
"You're jumpy. Has something happened?"
Glinda frowned and glanced around behind them, but she said, "No - no, nothing's -"
"Glinda," he said.
She shook her head, tidy curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I'll tell you about it later."
"Were you expecting someone else?"
Aha, that was the key. She said "no," but her eyes were guilty. Still, he clearly had nothing to gain from pushing her here in the crowded square. He held out his arm.
"Can we go somewhere?" he asked. "Lunch, maybe? I'd like to talk to you before I tell Elphaba - well, rather, about what I should tell Elphaba."
Instantly Glinda was on her guard again, hands clenching around the handle of her basket. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I just want to discuss - how much of my visit she needs to know about." He held out his hand more purposefully toward her basket. "Can I -"
Glinda pulled it back from his grasp and reached into it to straighten the cloth that covered its contents. "I'll carry it, thanks," she said. "But - of course, I'm sorry, we can go anywhere you like. Lead on."
He raised an eyebrow, but moved around to her other side to take her free arm and lead her to a quiet pub - not the one where he'd spoken to Rikk, he wouldn't take her to a place like that, but to someplace frequented mainly by merchants and suppliers, people who didn't read the gossip pages and wouldn't give two figs who they saw Glinda with. She was still glancing around nervously as if she expected to be followed, but they found their way to a table with no incident.
Once there Fiyero found he didn't quite know how to begin. He waited until someone had put tea in front of both of them and Glinda had slowly stirred sugar into hers to ask, "Have you ever been there?"
Glinda licked the tea off of her spoon and set it down on the saucer, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Where?"
"To - Munchkinland."
"Oh. No." She lifted her teacup but held it frozen in the air, not drinking. "Elphaba came to stay with us a few times, but she never seemed to think it was a good idea to invite me there. I didn't mind - I agreed with her." She sipped, grimaced slightly - from her thoughts, he gathered, not from the tea - and added, "Not that I wouldn't have faced any unpleasantness for her sake. But it didn't seem as though she should invite me, or anyone."
"I have to agree with you." Catching the nervous eye of the hostess of the establishment, who had clearly recognized him, he took a quick sip of his unsweetened tea and gave her a small nod and a smile to show it was all right. She smiled with relief in return and went back to busily brushing a table off with the towel that hung from her sash.
When Fiyero turned his attention back to Glinda, she was studying him intently with both hands wrapped around her teacup. "What happened?" she asked.
"It . . ." He shook his head and had another mouthful of strong, bitter tea to collect his thoughts. "Glinda, it's as if she never existed. I mean - I didn't expect much from him, from what little she's said, but I didn't expect that. Even Nessa looked as though she thought mentioning her sister might be a hanging offense."
Glinda's eyes glittered with something unidentifiable. "Nessa was afraid to talk about Elphaba with you?"
"Well." He struggled with his sense of fairness, trying to push aside the bitter feelings that had arisen at Nessa's obvious contentment with much of her situation. "I also think - it is pleasanter for her to forget Elphaba as much as possible. To put her aside, let herself be the lady of the manor, for once not burdened with her -" The bitterness was creeping into his tone. He stopped and took another drink.
He still couldn't read Glinda's expression. She seemed to be thinking about something as well, pausing to drink from her tea and to stare at the tabletop between them as if she were scrying in its surface. "Did you get the impression," she asked in time, "that she was over her head?"
"Nessarose?" He didn't hesitate. "Yes. She's made of steel, but will alone isn't enough. She lacks information, her father isn't telling her everything."
"He told you that?"
"No, but it was obvious. Meetings with his advisors while she met with tutors - or escorted me around the grounds - men coming in and out that she never saw. I got as much out of her as I could, under the auspices of an old and concerned friend, of course, but he's up to something she doesn't know about. It bothers me that I couldn't find out what." He frowned. "What made you ask that?"
"Something Elphaba said."
"She told me something similar once," he said. "She is still learning, but - well, I'm not sure whether the Governor's seriously training an heir, or keeping her out of his way. Maybe he hasn't decided yet."
"Do you think she's capable?" Glinda asked.
"Of what?" he asked rhetorically. "I don't know. Depends on what happens, I suppose. I hope the Governor knows what he's doing."
Glinda frowned into her tea for a moment before asking, "Was he very bad?"
"You've met him?"
Glinda nodded. "At graduation."
"He's -"
"I know."
"I really did not expect them to be - literally, pretending as best they could that she never happened. I mean, the servants still gossiped about her, but not where the Governor could hear -"
"Fiyero," Glinda said, pausing to smile at the hostess, who had come to set a plate of biscuits between them. When the woman had left, she continued, "I used to think it was exaggeration, a little, but having met him - he really does wish to pretend she never happened. She embarrasses him just by having existed. I used to think - well, I couldn't believe that a father could not have some feeling for his own child, no matter what. But I think knowing Elphaba has cured me of that particular brand of innocence."
"It's astonishing that she's as . . ." He didn't quite know what he wanted to say.
Glinda looked at him steadily across the table for a long while, holding him in her gaze, eyes so serious that he couldn't even fumble for words. Finally she said, "Fiyero - does she know?"
For half a second he really didn't know what she was asking, and then for another half second he thought about pretending he didn't. Glinda's eyes made it clear she wasn't going to be having any of that. He shook his head and said, "No."
"Why not?"
He looked back into that deep blue stare that had driven half the boys in their class mad, and said simply, "Because she doesn't want to."
Glinda held his eyes firmly with her own, but seemed to have nothing to say to that. At length she released him from what almost felt like the hold of a spell and reached one pale hand to worry at the edge of a biscuit.
"Glinda," he said boldly.
"Hmm?"
"Have you told her?"
She blinked. "That you -"
"No." He waited.
Glinda faltered and looked back down at the table. "Sometimes," she said, "we're not free to -"
"Glinda."
"She knows." She lifted her chin with a little show of determination. "But I'm not sure it matters. We're not always free to do exactly as we like."
He wasn't quite brave enough to ask any more specific questions, and wasn't completely certain he wanted the answers anyway. At any rate Glinda's feelings couldn't really be mistaken anymore, and Elphaba's - even if he had Elphaba there in front of him he suspected her feelings would be as inscrutable as ever. But then, after what he'd seen in Munchkinland, it was a wonder she was able to feel anything at all other than hurt. And, likewise, not so strange or wonderful that she should be so tied to Glinda, who offered her love on - he was beginning to understand - every possible level.
He looked at Glinda, and saw a fellow pilgrim, and realized that as long as the road was this difficult, it scarcely mattered that in the end only one of them could reach the goal of the journey. After all - considering what they all had to survive that was much more dangerous than each other - in the end it might be neither of them. He picked up his teacup and said, "Well, I'll have good news for Rikk. And now you need to help me decide how much to tell Elphaba about her father."