Summary: Married but alone, Glinda looks out her window.
Glinda looked across her bedroom, wishing it weren't so empty. She wanted to see something that would fill her with the fire she once had. That she thought she once had. Maybe it had just been someone else's fire reflecting warmth onto her face.
The sun had set long before. The canopy of the big bed that sat empty in the middle of the room had been charmed to display the constellations on its velvet, so Glinda could sleep by starlight. The sheets were as soft as lambskin. She tried to recall when she had last truly loved the opulence before her.
Once upon a time, she had loved the sheets so much she would spent hours on her back in bed. She would revel at how the mattress felt like it was made of bubbles. How the blankets felt like feathers on her naked skin.
A night breeze rustled the curtains at the open window. The air's gentle touch drew her further into the bedroom. Her bedroom alone, she thought bitterly. Sir Chuffrey slept in his own wing of the estate, practically his own building. He was a man who believed in maintaining proper decorum, even in his private life. Glinda was the Good Witch. Anything else, like her womanhood, distressed him.
"Please, Glinda, not now. I have a headache. I have a business to run. I'm traveling most days and rising at odd hours, and really, think of your goodness. Think of the orphanage!"
"Even orphans have sex! Why can't I?"
"Glinda, you sound like an animal."
You mean an Animal."
Chuffrey threw up his hands. "Not this again. Do you think if there were Animals I could lobby for the pork industry? It would be ludicrous."
"Indeed, Sir Chuffrey."
"Glinda... " He put his arms on her shoulders. "I never thought you'd out to be such an old fashioned girl..."
"...Neither did I," she said to the empty bedroom and went to the open window. She inhaled deeply. Below her, the hamlets were tightly shut so that no moonlight could sneak past the shutters. That's how the Wicked Witch got into someone's dreams, the citizens said. That's how nightmares happened.
Glinda had to admit the truth in that; She dreamed of Elphaba often enough.
They said the Wicked Witch awakened only at night, and that she slept with Animals in their caves during the day. Only the Wicked Witch could communicate with the Animals, now, for they had become enchanted and feral, like herself.
Glinda remembered when the Wicked Witch wasn't feral at all. At Shiz she had been mostly... more than... human. Heartbreakingly human, Glinda recalled, while everyone else was pretending to be something they weren't. She didn't miss the human girl--not the girl who had kissed her and then disappeared--she wanted the Witch. Was the time when Animals roamed the earth so bad?
She leaned further out the window so that her upper body was suspended in the air. She thought of falling, of flying. If Witches could fly, and she was a Witch--
Well. It didn't matter tonight. Glinda pushed away from the window. In the center of her room, she undressed in the moonlight. The breeze touched her bared shoulders, and then her back. Her dress slid to the floor. She imagined Elphaba outside her window. Elphaba would stare at how pale her skin was in the moonlight.
Glinda would tease her. "If you want a closer look, you'll have to come inside."
Elphaba would never come inside.
Animals weren't allowed inside anymore. Once cast out of society, they turned wild again, almost as if they had escaped. They were free now, like Elphaba.
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda whispered. Bed, with its starlight and sensibility, beckoned her away from the window. She wouldn't be able to kiss Elphaba anyway. Her wet lips might burn Elphaba's skin. In vengeance, Elphaba's sharp teeth would cut her tongue. Then where would they be? Devouring each other until there was nothing left. Maybe it was okay for Elphaba to be devoured. So what if she lost her reputation? But Glinda's mattered.
"Look at me," Glinda muttered to herself. "Arguing with a ghost who won't even argue back. And the citizens think Nessarose is mad." She shook her head as she slipped into bed. The blankets, stuffily heavy, aggravatingly scratchy, oppressed her all the way to her shoulders.
She wouldn't have to kiss Elphaba; she could just touch her. Run her hands down that smooth, oiled skin which held the green shade of a sky heralding a tempest, a tornado, a squall. Glinda sniffed the air, to see if it held rain, but it was clear of even dew. The night sky had been red before the moon rose, so Elphaba was probably on the other side of the world.
Unable to eradicate the greenish vision from under her eyelids, Glinda ran her hands across her own body, imagining it was Elphaba touching her instead. Imagining her hands were touching Elphaba in the same way, imagining Elphaba under the same moonlight, making the same wish. She blushed when she touched her breasts. Her nipples hardened. She tweaked them with her fingertips, imagining Elphaba's teeth grazing them.
She groaned and hoped the breeze would carry the sound. "Naughty Elphie, can't you be civilized?" She slid her hand between her legs. "Such a beast." Her fingers became coated in her wetness. She bit her lip, trying to control the throbbing that had started at her fingertips, like magic, and coursed through her veins.
If only Chuffrey could see her now, flushed and gasping, pushing her hips against her own fingers. If only he knew what "Harder" meant, if only he'd respond if she whispered in his ear, "I want to fly."
Her wrist ached, but she rubbed and writhed against her hand, until she felt the spasms. Her shoulders jerked along with her hips, and then the release. She sagged into the sheets. With her eyes squeezed shut, she made her wish again. She didn't want to go back to the past, to Shiz or the Emerald City, for she was too practical a girl to think that possible. The clock ticked eternally on. She just hoped that it wouldn't end like this.
A gust of wind rattled the shutters, carrying the scent of rain. Shadowy storm clouds passed in front of the moon. Glinda tossed in bed, unwilling to sleep with the night so alive. Unwilling to be the girl Chuffrey wanted her to be. "Wicked Witch of the West... Please, come and save me from this."