AN:

OMG, so late again! Sorry, guys, but it's difficult right now... Anyway, it's late, so I'll make this quick.

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Guest: I hope that your finals went well! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D

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And now, happy reading everyone!

xoxo MLE :3

4. Hasty Conclusions

Elphaba was troubled. For three full days now, Glinda had been avoiding her. She always had a plausible excuse, of course, but Elphaba was convinced that her absence at dinner and various other daily appointments was deliberate. When, or how she had acquired such a keen sense of interpersonal perception was a mystery to her. Perhaps, Glinda's social shrewdness was slowly rubbing off on her. She wouldn't have thought it possible.

The clock in the hallway proclaimed that it was eight o'clock. Elphaba had dined alone again, but out of habit, she moved from the dinner table to the music room and picked a book from the shelf. Settling in her usual seat, she flipped open the cover and began to read. The title had been promising enough, but the content was simply not succeeding in retaining her attention for longer than a few minutes. Before long, she caught herself staring in the direction of the door, as though she were waiting for Glinda to open it any moment. She jerked up in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearing her head so she could return her mind to the book that had now dropped to the floor.

She picked it up and continued reading, but no matter how hard she strained her eyes, the letters on the page remained blurred, shifting in and out of focus. With a great huff, she put an end to their mockery. She snapped the volume shut and placed it back on the shelf, wondering whether she should blame the book, or herself for her irritated mood. Turning sharp on her heels, she headed for the door. Before the evening could get any more frustrating, she rather went to bed. She had barely reached the staircase, however, when her erratic mind changed her plan – although it had been a solid one - yet again.

After returning from her aimless stroll through the inner city, Glinda had spent the rest of her day in her private rooms. Miss Murth had reminded her about dinner at some point, but she wasn't hungry. Or maybe she was, but she couldn't afford going downstairs and spending the rest of the evening with Elphaba. She had been trying to avoid her as best she could over the past three days, hoping to calm her heart's unreasonable desires, as well as her eager fingers' longing to touch and explore Elphaba's mesmerizing, emerald skin. To her great frustration, none of these inconvenient feelings and urges had shown any signs of dissipating so far. Her stomach spoke up with a loud gurgling rumble. With a sigh, she heaved herself out of her chair and left her room in search of something edible.

Her way to the kitchen led her past the music room. The door was closed, but the strong, full sound of the grand piano still carried through. It made Glinda pause in her tracks and turn around slowly. Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, she tried to ignore the pull, but it was to no avail. She was as much drawn to the melody as she was drawn to the person she knew was on the other side of the door. It was too much to resist. Already, her hand was resting on the handle. She berated herself, if not for her foolheartedness, then for her lack of will. But she proceeded pushing down the handle all the same, opening the door just far enough so she could slip through the narrow gap. Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the piano and the pianist, who was weaving the beautiful music.

She sat down next to her, listening in captivated silence. She wondered whether Elphaba had even noticed her, or whether she was simply too immersed in her own world. Barely had she finished this thought, the music stopped, answering her unvoiced question. Elphaba's eyes remained trained on her hands for a moment, her long fingers still spread out over the ivory keys.

"I thought you don't particularly enjoy the piano?" Glinda asked quietly. "Yet you were the only person in the room. If not for someone else's pleasure, why did you play?"

Elphaba shrugged her shoulders, not entirely sure that she knew the answer herself. "To lure you out of your hideout," she told Glinda offhandedly and maybe it was even true. Glinda laughed at that, but Elphaba's mouth only formed a thin line. "But seriously, where have you been all day?"

Glinda's smile briefly turned into a frown, then into a smirk. "So you missed me?" She tried to sound playful, but the corners of her mouth were twitching nervously.

Elphaba turned to study her for a moment before averting her eyes. "I never intended to drive you away from your own home, or confine you in your bedroom. If my presence here is inconveniencing you-"

She was interrupted by Glinda's warm hand on her cheek and her soft lips on her mouth. Her breath caught, as she was too shocked to move a single muscle. Even her heart must have stopped. Maybe, it was the lack of oxygen that caused her dizziness and that strange feeling of floating lightness and intense gravity combined. Maybe, it was all in her head. Or her heart, if she wanted to be this sentimental.

There was not much time to think on it though. The contact was lost mere seconds later and her body resumed its various functions, if only to save itself from certain death. Her limbs were still defying her, however, as was her speech. All she could do was to turn her head away and try to hide her face behind a silky curtain of raven hair.

Glinda slowly withdrew, shyly looking up at her through her lashes. Had Elphaba not stared away so intently, she would have seen the pretty, pink blush on Glinda's cheeks and the way her teeth caught her lower lip nervously while she studied Elphaba's reaction. Where others might have flushed from the intense physical contact, Elphaba had paled - a most concerning sign in Glinda's eyes.

"Did this startle you?" she gently asked after collecting herself. "By no means did I mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes, I just forget that you are not familiar with the ways of us city girls." A light titter accompanied her words and in her current confused state, Elphaba did not catch its awkwardness. "Think nothing of it. It was only a little thank you," Glinda moved on to explain. "For the music and… and for staying with me, for keeping me company."

She brushed the strands of black hair away and brought both of her hands up to Elphaba's cheeks and fixed her head so she could give her this penetrating, inadvertently intimidating look. "You are most certainly not unwelcome here," she declared solemnly, moving closer again, until the tips of their noses nearly touched. "Nor are you ousting me from my home. I apologise for being such a negligent host as of late and I promise I will mend my ways." With that, she released the green woman, giving her a determined nod. Elphaba accepted her apology mutely and Glinda offered her a wide smile. Elphaba didn't notice how forced it looked.

Before the matter could be discussed any further, Glinda's stomach made itself heard again, causing her to flush in embarrassment. "Well, it looks like it is time I found myself something to eat. I was going to raid the kitchen for leftovers, but if you were to join me, I could ring for Mirrtle to bring up a tray of nosh for two."

Carefully closing the lid of the piano, Elphaba shook her head. "It's late and I already had dinner. I think I should go to bed." She turned towards Glinda, offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. At the stairs, where Glinda's way would lead her to the downstairs kitchen and Elphaba's to her upstairs guestroom, she turned to study her, tilting her head. "I'll see you at breakfast then?"

"Definitely," Glinda replied with a small grin, which Elphaba returned with the flicker of a smile.

Halfway up her flight of stairs, Elphaba paused. She made sure that Glinda had already disappeared, then hesitantly brushed the tips of her fingers against her lips, still in utter disbelief. She had never dared, or even wanted to imagine her first kiss. She had neither hoped, nor longed for it. Ultimately, a simple kiss was no more than two people pressing their mouths together. From a strictly technical point of view, she still thought that way, although she could not deny the strange sense of a deeply emotional connection she had felt when Glinda's lips had connected with hers. A hint of that feeling still lingered, echoing throughout her body like a soft hum. 'What did this mean?' she might have wondered, but she didn't, for this little realisation was not a new riddle; it was the answer to so many questions that had plagued her for far too long.

Yet solving the grand mystery turned out to be terribly unrewarding. Most of all, she was disappointed. Disappointed, because she wished the kiss had meant more to Glinda. Disappointed, because she wished that she meant more to Glinda. She was hesitant to give this desire to be close to her friend a specific name, but she could not deny its existence. Previously, she might have thought herself immune to such superfluous emotions, but that clearly wasn't the case. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she realised – after all, it made her more human, more relatable. Although she used to not care about such properties, she now cared for Glinda's sake. But how unfortunate and, perhaps, ironic, that her newly revealed humanness had to be directed at such an unobtainable prize.

Releasing a deep breath, she suddenly felt worn out, like she would after a daylong march. Were all romantic feelings this tiresome, or was this only the case with those that were so horribly misguided? At any rate, she decided that she better not spent the rest of the night on the stairs and dragged herself up to her room.

In keeping with her promise, Glinda was the first to appear at the breakfast table the following morning, followed by Elphaba a couple of minutes later. It was a quiet affair as both women picked on their food in silence. Glinda's stomach, although empty after only receiving a handful of water crackers the previous night, was too upset to take much of the toast and could hardly handle the coffee. The blonde blamed herself for acting so impetuously, for letting self-control slip so easily. Now she had made things awkward between her and Elphaba, who, judging by her sullen mood, was clearly not buying into the silly excuse she had given.

When Mirrtle and Miss Murth entered to clear the table, Elphaba declared that she intended to take the air. Surprised, Glinda jumped to her feet. "I will go with you if you can wait just an hour or so. I have an early appointment this morning."

Elphaba ran her hand through her hair. "Don't worry about me. I won't get lost. You do whatever you have to do and I'll see you at lunch."

And thus, their roles somehow had ended up reversed, much to Glinda's regret.

"It's your turn."

Glinda glanced over the cards in her hand for a third time, worrying her lip. But it was no use. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out a card. Elphaba arched her eyebrow and countered her move with a much better one – a winning one. "This is the sixth time in a row that you win this ridiculous game!" Glinda cried out in pure frustration.

"What can I say, I'm good." Elphaba merely shrugged her shoulders.

Glinda stood so she could reach across the table and gather the cards to return them to their leather case. "There will be no more Graboge, Miss Elphaba. We will find another game to amuse ourselves with. One where I might stand a chance."

Elphaba gave it a brief thought. "Do you have a Green Towers-set?"

"Do we have a Green Towers-set, Miss Murth?" Glinda turned to ask her housekeeper.

"Oh, yes, we do," the woman replied, nodding eagerly. "Would you like me to fetch it?"

"No, please don't bother," Elphaba quickly called out to save Miss Murth, who was already halfway out of the room, the trip down to the cellar. "I asked about it because it is a game we can easily cross off the list. In my family I'm the undefeated champion, so to say. Glinda wouldn't enjoy losing yet again."

Oh, that cheeky grin! Glinda stemmed her hands on her hips. "Fine. I accept the challenge. Miss Murth, if you please?"

Miss Murth nearly collided with Puggles when the butler came rushing through the door. "There is a visitor for you, Mum. She is waiting in the drawing room."

"You already brought her inside?" Glinda snapped, crossing the room with quick steps to snatch the calling card from Puggles. "You know fairly well that I don't receive unannounced visitors after dinner."

"Of course, Mum, but I supposed you will make an exception in this case."

Huffing, she grabbed the card. She froze. "Mumsy? What in Oz?"

Elphaba noisily pushed back her chair and moved to the door. "I'll go out for an hour or two," she said quietly in passing Glinda.

"Elphie, it is nine o'clock!" the blonde called after her, but with a flurry of green fingers, Elphaba disappeared down the hallway. The door shut noisily soon thereafter. A tired groan escaped Glinda's lips. She nodded at Puggles to dismiss him and instructed Miss Murth to forget about the game set and prepare sandwiches and tea instead. With a dreadful feeling of trepidation in her stomach, she headed in the direction of the drawing room.

Opening the door, she found her mother in one of the stuffed chairs by the fireplace. She entered quietly, closing the door behind her. "What are you doing here, Mumsy?" she asked in a low voice, her eyes trained to the ground.

Mrs Upland rose to her feet, walked up to her daughter and gently, but firmly guided her chin up so she would look at her. "Not quite the welcome I had expected," she replied, her mouth pursed in a tut. Glinda twisted herself free. She stepped behind one of the armchairs to assure some distance between her and her mother.

"You couldn't at least write a note ahead of time? We are ill prepared for your visit. After all, I am already entertaining another guest - a dear, old friend from school, you must know - and the extra pieces and linen for the second guest room are almost all still at Mockbeggar Hall. We never needed them before."

The older woman shook her head. "Do not fret, Glinda Darling. I already settled into my room at the Florinthwaite Club. Now come and sit with your mother."

Miss Murth entered with the refreshments and Glinda slowly took her seat. "Thank you, Miss Murth, that will be all. You may clean and retire for the night." Taking a deep breath, she decided to start over with her mother. Turning to Mrs Upland, she asked, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Mumsy?"

"The occasion is not at all pleasant, I'm afraid," Mrs Upland sighed and folded her hands in her lap. She remained silent for a few clock-ticks, studying the lights of the lanterns outside the window.

"Mumsy?" Glinda could hardly bear the tension.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," her mother said at last, lowering her gaze as a tear slowly ran down her cheek, "I'm afraid your father has left this world." Glinda's eyes widened, glossing over with tears of her own. "He left us behind to be with Lurlina, but at least he won't hurt anymore."

Feeling the first of her tears fall, Glinda rose form her seat, turning towards the fireplace in order to conceal her grief from her mother. She was too angry to share such private emotions with her. "And you left him behind like this just to tell me?" she asked in a vexingly wavering voice. "Or were you fleeing the onslaught of relatives that wish to express their condolences and mourn with you?" She snorted in an unusually unfeminine and unbecoming manner. "It must have taken weeks for you to travel all the way from Frottica. A letter would have arrived in half of the time. When did he actually die?"

"Almost two months ago," came the soft reply and Glinda's dainty hands formed into tight fists. "I thought it would be inappropriate for you to come to his funeral. A recent widow shouldn't travel this far all by herself. That's why I didn't inform you right away."

Her hands began to shake. Why was her mother doing this to her? The death of her father was a hard blow; why did she have to add such cruel insult to the injury? "You should not have made such a decision for me. I am old enough-"

"But look at you, child! It has barely been half a year and you're already divesting yourself of your widow's weeds?" Glinda looked down on her outfit, an indigo blue tea dress that flaunted both too much skin and ruffles to be fully appropriate mourning attire. "I can only imagine what the people would say if they saw you touring the country in such costumes."

"Would you rather I lapsed into depression?" she defended her wardrobe – perhaps a little too aggressively, for she did feel some guilt over how little Chuffrey's death had affected her. "This is my house, mother, what I choose to wear is my own business."

"But think of your staff, not to mention that friend of yours you are entertaining." Mrs Upland paused, tilting her head in thought. "It couldn't possibly be that Tenmeadows boy, could it?"

Glinda whirled around, her mouth agape in unrestrained shock. "Mother!"

"Well, I suppose not," Mrs Upland allowed, reaching for her tea cup to take a sip. "Although he would be a good match."

"I see you haven't heard, but the Margreave of Tenmeadows has already found himself a Margreavess," Glinda informed her pointedly.

"A pity."

"Yes," Glinda scoffed, "for the poor woman who now has to put up with this man."

Her mother mercifully refrained from commenting any further and decided on a sandwich instead. Glinda watched her for a while longer until her anger had cooled enough for her to resume her seat. She picked up her cup of tea and began to stir it slowly, but incessantly, her gaze lingering on the crackling fire. "Do you remember how you and Popsicle told me to marry a rich man?" Her hand was still drawing circles with the small silver spoon. "I took your advice and became Chuffrey's wife. To make you proud and to make sure you were looked after financially. This marriage ended sooner than any of us could have predicted, but… Would you disapprove if I never took another husband? I don't wish to marry again." She finally placed the spoon on the saucer and returned the cup to the side table without taking but a sip.

Her mother made a concerned face. "Did he not treat you well, my sweet girl?"

Glinda shook her head slightly. "No, it's nothing like that. He was always kind, even if not particularly understanding. But that was to be expected, due to the age difference."

"Is this about your… well, your…" Mrs Upland was searching for words, describing a series of small circles with her left hand."… about your peculiar tendencies then?"

Inadvertently, Glinda's cheeks began to blush. Bashfully, she looked up, then away again, biting her lower lip. "You do remember Elphie, don't you? She was my roomie at Shiz."

"Of course," Mrs Upland replied and her lips turned into a thin, straight line.

"She… she's presently living here with me." There was silence for a good while and Glinda hesitantly looked up, only to seen an expression of horror painting her mother's features.

"No, Mumsy, it's not what you think!" She hurried to clarify. "It's not that at all. She is from Munchkinland, you see, and a political refugee. She has nowhere else to go. I offered her a guest room and some food. That is all."

"Has she tried to seduce you?" Mrs Upland asked curtly – a question at which Glinda stared at her as though she had grown another head.

"Mumsy!" The redness of her face deepened. "No, no and no!" She blinked a tear away without even knowing why she had shed it in the first place. "Actually," she began before she could stop herself, "quite the contrary is the case." Her hand flew to her mouth, but she realised that she had already said too much to still be able to stir the conversation in a somewhat safer direction.

"I…" She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat did not seem willing to budge. In an embarrassingly croaky voice, she continued. "There were moments over the past few weeks when I would have liked to get closer to her," she confessed. "Physically, I mean; in a way that would exceed intimacy as it is appropriate amongst friends. But she… she seems absolutely oblivious. It is driving me insane. I don't know what to do with myself."

Mrs Upland picked up her teacup again and eyed the brown liquid it contained with disdain. Watching her, Glinda thought that she must be wishing for something stronger. There was brandy in the corner cabinet by the door, but she knew all too well what alcohol could do to her mother when she was in such a delicate state. The older woman finally gave up on the tea with a sigh. "Well, perhaps, she isn't interested and for propriety's sake and in order to shelter you from the embarrassment, she simply overlooks your unsuitable behaviour. Or, perhaps, she merely endures it because she doesn't want to end up on the street."

"No, my Elphie wouldn't do that," Glinda countered passionately and her mother squirmed a little in her seat. "You see, she is the most outspoken and honest person I know. She is blunt and without deceit. She would either encourage my overtures, or simply tell me to leave her be. It's the fact that she has done neither so far that worries me."

"It is easy then; if she is such a frank person, I think that it is time that you should be equally frank with her."

For that, Glinda had no reply. She was scanalised at first, but the more she thought on the matter, the more sensible her mother's advice appeared to her. Of course, this plan could go terribly wrong, but how much heartache it would spare her if it didn't!

When Elphaba turned around the corner from Shiz Street onto Mennipin Square, her head wrapped in a black scarf and her hands stuffed in the deep pockets of her coat to conceal as much green as possible, she was surprised how welcome the sight of tidy front lawns and gloss painted green doors was to her. Her little excursion to the outer edges of the city had been about as successful as it had been frustrating. She hated to admit it, but with all the chaos she had left behind in Munchkinland and so much misery still lurking at the very doorsteps of her temporary home, she appreciated the luxury of returning to a place she considered a safe haven of sorts – although she would have been happy to make do with a much humbler accommodation. She wasn't mollycoddling herself, she reassured herself firmly. Gradually, she would intensify her efforts, but if she hoped to make a difference, it couldn't hurt if she was well fed and rested. For the time being at least, until the situation became more heated and Glinda's involvement, however peripheral, was something she could no longer risk.

She found the servant door at the back of the building and knocked until the serving girl, already half asleep and with disheveled bed hair, finally answered. She straightened up at once when she recognised Elphaba – whether it was out of fright or sense of duty was difficult to say. Wordlessly, she widened the gap enough so that Elphaba could slip inside. If the girl's stunned silence meant that she wouldn't ask annoying questions, Elphaba appreciated it.

She clomped up the stairs in her heavy boots. She would find Glinda later, let her know that she had returned unharmed. But respecting her squeamish host's house rules, she would first rid herself of her coat and footwear and drop them off at their designated places. On her way to the coat hangers and shoe cabinet by the main door, she passed the drawing room. The door was slightly ajar and light and voices were pouring out of the room. Glinda was still with her mother, it seemed. Elphaba wasn't one for eavesdropping, but when she heard her name, her ears pricked up and she reasoned that an open door was as good as an invitation. Curious, or maybe worried about what she might hear, she tiptoed closer.

The older and slightly taller of the two women stepped back, releasing Glinda from her tight, motherly embrace. "Take care my little cupcake," Elphaba heard her say as she planted gentle kisses on either cheek. "And do clear up that matter concerning your friend. If the problem that pains you so cannot be remedied, tell her to leave."

Elphaba's stomach dropped. So Glinda was hiding something from her after all, that pretty, sweet, little liar! Elphaba cursed her own naivety. How stupid she had been to accept the invitation in the first place. She should have known better, should have seen this coming.

But Glinda shook her head, a smile on her lips that did not reach her tired and weary eyes. "Mumsy, I could never send Elphie away."

"Yes, I know, my dear. You are too good." Sadly, Elphaba agreed. No matter how challenging and utterly confusing it was emotionally, she somehow liked living with her former roommate again, but she didn't need Glinda's charity. "Just take care of yourself," Glinda's mother said, squeezing her daughter's hand before turning towards the door. "And perhaps you should look for a husband after all. Life is easier with a companion by your side."

Glinda's body turned rigid, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the corners of her mouth twitched. Elphaba knew this expression. It was Glinda trying to hide intense exasperation. More oft than not, she had used it on Elphaba – with only moderate success, although she might have believed the contrary. "I hope this is the last I'll ever hear of the matter, Mumsy," she said with false calm.

"Stay safe," her mother replied with a wink of her long lashes. "And don't forget to update me about any development concerning your Miss Thropp. You know, I worry about you."

They began to move towards the door now and Elphaba hurried to retreat. She escaped up the flight of stairs behind her, but as soon as she had reached the upper half of the staircase, she paused to listen. "Good night and a have a pleasant journey tomorrow," Glinda half yawned. "Make sure Puggles gave the cabbie the right address. He does seem to confuse the names of hotels at times."

The older woman nodded. She picked up her parasol and opened the door. Glinda waved once more and withdrew into to drawing room. The front door closed and silence fell. Elphaba was sitting on one of the steps, her arms wrapped around her folded legs, waiting for Glinda to reemerge. She waited patiently, but there was no sign of the petite blonde. Concerned, she pulled herself up by the railing and trudged down the stairs. The door was closed now and she hesitated to enter. Her worries gained the upper hand however, and so she took off her shoes and pushed open the door.

She found Glinda sunken in the furthest armchair, looking even tinier than usual. Her head was resting on her hand, with her elbow on the armrest of the chair. The sound of Elphaba's bare feet on the parquet flooring made her look up. "Oh, thank Lurline, there you are!" she sighed, honest relief loosening her tense body – a reaction Elphaba had not expected. Glinda wiggled her fingers in a hitherto motion and Elphaba complied, kneeling next to her chair. "I already saw you murdered and ditched in some dirty alley," Glinda whispered, absentmindedly stroking Elphaba's hair.

Elphaba's concern only deepened. There was a strange melancholy about Glinda she was unfamiliar with. "I cause you too much worry," she said tentatively.

A heavy sigh. "Oh, goodness knows you do."

The atmosphere, so heavy with gloom, was nearly crushing. Moving away, her head out of Glinda's reach, Elphaba caught her hands, holding them firmly between her own warm palms. She kissed them tenderly. "If I leave, the problem is solved," she said, hoping it would be that simple, but Glinda only seemed more upset.

"Shush, Elphie, don't be like this. Not now. I have worse things to despair about right now than your unruliness." She pulled her hands away and wrapped her arms around her waist in an attempt for comfort. Her eyes were still looking in Elphaba's direction, but had lost their focus. "My Popsicle passed away," she finally said, releasing a long breath. "You can't imagine how much he meant to me."

Elphaba only nodded, uncertain if any words would ever be good enough to console her friend. Instead of expressing her condolence, she asked, "Would you like to come to the music room so I can play for you?"

But Glinda sniffed and shook her head. "No, Elphie. But if you could hold me for a little bit. Just a short while."

How could Elphaba ever refuse such a request? She slowly rose to her feet and moved to sit on the armrest of the stuffed chair. Somewhat hesitantly, she draped her arm over Glinda's shoulder. The blonde looked up, then scooched over, pulling Elphaba with her. They were small enough and the chair quite big, allowing both of them to sit almost comfortably. Huddling as close as physically possible, Glinda found herself a little cove between Elphaba's chest and her arm. Elphaba's other arm slowly snaked around her back, her hand resting on the wrist of the other. This was how Miss Murtle found them the following morning, deep asleep.