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Glinda thought that was too little of a girl for a grand savior. And scrappy, too. Even though she wanted to keep her attention on the child, her eyes kept turning toward the tiny paw prints being left on her rosé cushion. That made her left eyelid tremble, unconsciously. The chubby arms struggled to keep the small black dog under control; it seemed like the animal could sense the tension in the room. Toto pawed at his young mistress, scratching at her forearms and filthy dress. Then he would manage to wiggle out and stomp awkwardly on the cushion again. More than a dozen little paw prints already. Glinda didn't want to think about that. Getting mad at a dog seemed disrespectful at that moment. Even if the dog was related to...
Dorothy hurried to pick him up and settled him on her lap. Her short legs didn't reach the floor. Each attempt to keep hold of the dog made them bounce. Then the silver shoes glistened. Combined with her disheveled state, a faded gingham dress that was growing too small for her, messy braided pigtails, and the posture of a hunchback, those slippers were out of place. They even looked too mature for that inelegant young creature. She had no reasonable amount of grace to carry it. Glinda's lips thinned staring at the girl. No grace at all.
Dorothy's shoulder shrank under the Witch's scrutiny. The child carried the many scratches and bruises from her unfortunate adventure with Elphaba and the flying monkeys. Most of the cuts were healing fine, but there were some with noticeable signs of infection. Glinda caught herself wishing the monkeys had not been so kind, but she stopped herself. Dorothy might've been the pawn to slay the queen, but she had never been a willing player. Just a marionette for the Wizard, for Morrible... And for Glinda herself.
Cost. She was now dealing with the cost of her many mistakes and the mistakes of others, too.
"Miss Glinda?" The small voice called. The accent was all wrong, and Glinda had the impression that Dorothy had never been taught to properly articulate her words. It was annoying.
Glinda smiled, "Yes, dear."
"Where do I go now?"
Of course. The Grand Little Savior had lost her ride back home with the Wizard. There had been no way of telling if that balloon would really make it out of Oz, to where the child was from, but Glinda had been relieved to have found a way to get rid of Dorothy. The dog might've seen right through her plan because it guided its little mistress away from that trap immediately.
It was frustrating. Glinda had promised to be good. Do good. Now she was stuck with that promise. And she didn't want to be good to Dorothy. As faultless as that child was, Glinda had nowhere else to channel her frustration. And Glinda would never be able to redirect that frustration to herself. She was still too self-absorbed for that. In the end, it had been that cursed child who threw the bucket. Because of that, it was very easy to blame her.
Toto's whiskers flickered, and he barred his teeth, growling at the witch. "Toto!" Dorothy gasped, shocked at her pet's reaction. "I'm so sorry!" She tried to hide him with her body, eyeing Glinda with the fear and respect one would've shown a saint.
"I do not mind him, child," she said plainly, "We'll find a way to get you back home. It might just take a bit longer than we expected."
Dorothy hung her head, defeat exhaling from her prostrate form.
“Dear-” Glinda squared her shoulders, taking one gulp before asking, “Will you tell me again… what happened?” Her eyes stung. She feared she wouldn't be able to hold herself together, and one more beat of her heart would shatter her composure.
Glinda was tipping. Tipping at the tiniest edge. Looking at her from the other side was a pair of big, round eyes, earnest in their simplicity.
Dorothy blinked before finally finding her voice, “We came to see the Wizard. He was scary. And mean. And evil.” The kid's fist balled, “Told us we'd have to kill her… That-that I already had killed one Wicked Witch, so it should be easy to do it again.” There was a desperation in her voice, “I didn't know I had killed someone. I didn't want to hurt anybody!” Dorothy shook her head, “I just wanted to go back home. I thought I would go to the witch, give her the shoes, and ask for the broom. Explain to her- Scarecrow said the Witch could be reasoned with. He was sure of it. Then the monkeys came…” the girl's voice quivered.
Glinda noticed Dorothy's trembling chin, her eyes going hollow and dark.
“They came from the skies, like a dark cloud that screeched. They were strong and so, so fast. The trees trembled, and the branches were shaking under their powerful wings. Their eyes were so human… I have never been so scared in my life.” Dorothy looked up, “Except inside the tornado.”
Glinda felt the faintest spark of sympathy. But she snuffed it out.
“The Tin Woodsman fought. Even the Cowardly Lion did. I fought too, I tried to hold on to Toto, and I fought. Hard. They still got me. They were still stronger.” The girl unconsciously traced the worst scratches on her arm. “I thought for sure I would die.”
Toto whined softly, licking his mistress’ bruised chin, trying to comfort her. Dorothy smiled sadly at him and scratched his head, filled with gratitude. “When they dropped me at the castle… the Witch didn't listen. If I'm being honest, after the flight, I was so scared, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak right. So she locked me up. Later, when she opened the hatch for me, there was this… bucket.” Dorothy frowned. “Why was it there? It was all I had. I didn't truly think she would melt. But I was scared. And she… she wasn't listening. She was pointing the broom at me. I could hear the monkeys behind the walls… Those… Screeches. And the wings!” The tears on the child's cheeks left a path through the remaining grime. She stared at Glinda, the death of Elphaba was left unsaid, but fully acknowledged by both as they peered into each other's souls. “Now I'm here. And the Wizard lied..."
Glinda breathed deeply. She was lying too.
"HE LIED! He didn't have any power! I killed two people! And he didn't wait for me!” Dorothy began truly sobbing. “I just wanna go home…”
Glinda's sigh was loud and exasperated. If she heard that one more time…
Dorothy felt Glinda's energy changing. She smothered her own sobs and pressed herself hard against the cushions, attempting to vanish into them. Toto was hugged tight against her chest, half hiding the girl's face from the blonde witch. "...I'm so sorry." The kid's voice was muffled.
Glinda didn't speak. She knew Dorothy had felt her impatience. Too late to take it back now.
Some pieces of the girl's tale kept repeating inside her head.
“I would explain to her…”
“Scarecrow said the Witch could be reasoned with.”
“I would give her the shoes and ask for the broom.”
“I didn't mean to kill her…” the child whispered, her voice was a faint thing, “I swear I didn't. I swear!”
“But you did good. That was what everyone wanted.” The witch didn't flinch as she spoke, though her eyes showed something different from the cheerful tone in her voice.
The kid eyed her suspiciously. Then with a knowing glare.
Glinda had not even taken something important into account until that moment. Dorothy had been there. Just right there when…
"Dorothy," Glinda said gravely, "How much did you hear when Elphaba and I were talking?"
The kid hid her face behind the dog again.
Dorothy didn't deny it. She hid behind her dog and trembled.
Dorothy had listened.
Dorothy knew.
Glinda stood up. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked briskly toward the scared girl. The dog barred his teeth again and growled louder this time. Dorothy, sensing her approach, tucked her legs instinctively against her chest, dirtying the cushion further with the soles of the slippers.
"I didn't hear anything, I swear.” A poor attempt at lying, utterly pitiful. Too late to be convincing. Too desperate to be taken seriously.
"Only bad Wizards tell lies," Glinda spoke, unflinching in her hypocrisy. "What did you hear?"
"I want the Scarecrow..."
"He's left."
That made the child lift her face, startled. Left?
"He's gone." Glinda continued. "The other two... They're around. Somewhere."
The child's breath became ragged and louder. Her eyes darted around, unseeing. "Can you... Can you ask the Tin Woodsman to come pick me up?"
Glinda struggled not to roll her eyes; she felt like a kindergarten teacher. "Dorothy, tell me. I won't be mad."
"Only bad Wizards lie." The child repeated her warning to her face.
Glinda's grip on her wand tightened. It would be so easy to just grab that girl by the collar and shake her into surrender. But she fucking promised to be good! Heaven damned good!
Glinda turned around. Though she felt her cheeks burning from anger and frustration, what came out of her was an unexpected sob. She covered her own mouth in surprise. Before another sob could escape, she took control of herself, placing one hand on her chest. Then a tear escaped. The witch hurried to clear it too.
Dorothy was watching her. Glinda saw her reflection in the mirror. The girl had an expression of anguished sympathy and hesitant weariness that made Glinda wish to tear her own heart out. How dare this girl look at her like that!
The silence sounded louder than before. Glinda decided not to hold back her tears. Dropping to her knees, she let her dress pool around her. Glinda hung her head, breathing out all of the grief she had been holding at bay. It didn't come as a tsunami, but as a gentle stream and quiet sniffing.
Her shoulders relaxed as the performance dropped.
"I didn't want to kill anyone," the kid mourned. "I’m really sorry…”
Glinda shook her head. Not to deny forgiveness 一 which she still couldn't give. But to self-regulate, in a way. “Elphie put the bucket there.”
Glinda heard the small, broken gasp from behind her. Elphie's name. She had given the dead witch her name, which felt like sacred knowledge. Dorothy might as well learn it; she already knew so much, one more information meant little. “It was her plan all along that you used it to melt her.”
Glinda heard the childish sob, loud and undeterred, the way only children knew how to do because they had not learned to suffocate their own feelings yet.
“Why?!” Dorothy didn't ask. She demanded, brokenhearted.
“I don't know!” Glinda turned to face her again. “I don't know why. Elphie always did things her way. She's such a stubborn-” the woman stopped herself before she cursed. Even the memory of her lover’s worst habits brought the bloom of fierce adoration and loss.
After a pause, her jaw tightened so hard it hurt. "I shouldn't be mad at you." The confession was bitter in her tongue.
Dorothy leans farther away, trying to shrink herself further. Glinda opened her mouth again, but was cut short.
"Don't hurt me..."
Sharp pain. Not at her heart, but at an invisible line that held it. The child begging for her own safety pulled that line taut. Glinda's vision blurred, and she had to blink away the affection. Was that what she'd been secretly wishing for? Was that the revenge?
Under her breath, she prayed for forgiveness. She called for Elphie in her heart and spoke to her. That helped to bring back some of her strength. When she opened her eyes, Dorothy was still shaking in front of her.
“Can the Tin Woodsman come to pick me up now?” The kid begged, still afraid to look directly at her.
“Of course…” Her voice was softer. “Dorothy. I know it wasn’t your fault.”
The kid still didn’t stop shaking.
“You were just trying to survive. Elphie- The Wicked Witch didn’t leave you much of a choice. I knew her… From long ago. We were… close. But she made her choices, I just… I intend to carry on the good she did for me into the future. That’s it.”
“Will you take back the shoes, too?” Dorothy asked. No, she hoped.
“Yes,” Glinda turned to fetch the grimmerie. She still feared it would not respond to her. It only worked a couple of times, and she honestly didn’t believe she was worthy of it yet. Especially not now, after frightening a young child that badly.
She placed the book on the small table and opened it. In her head, she was wondering about how to detach the shoes from the little girl’s feet. The grimmerie listened and began to leaf through the pages. But what she was given was not really what she had expected. It was an answer to her request, but also so much more.
Glinda blinked and made a surprised noise.
Dorothy eyed the book with suspicion. Glinda’s reaction caught her attention. The tension and heaviness that had charged the air around the Good Witch seemed to fizzle a little.
“Maybe I’ll call for the Tin Woodsman and the Lion first,” Glinda said calmly.
“Why?” Dorothy wondered, carefully.
“Because you’re going home, Dorothy.”
The kid's eyes widened.
Glinda turned to the door, she hurried to speak with the guards who awaited outside, and told them to fetch the two friends. Dorothy had jumped from the chair, hope and joy clashing with the dread she had been drowning in for the last few minutes.
“Miss Glinda,” the kid was almost skipping after her, “What do you mean? Can you do it? Did you find a way to do it?!”
Glinda looked at her triumphantly, “Dear, some answers come to us in the most unexpected ways.”
It barely took two minutes; the Tin Woodsman and the Lion burst through the door. The big beast pounced past Glinda, barely acknowledging her, and curled himself around the little girl, licking her face like a big puppy. Dorothy wobbled on her feet as the big cat brushed his body against her, the loose strands of her hair pointed in funny directions after he licked them. She giggled, reaching out for his fur, patting the whole extension of his back, as far as her small arms reached.
“Dorothy…” the Tin Woodsman called. He stopped when he reached Glinda. Their eyes crossed.
Glinda struggled to hide a confused frown at seeing him up close. The Tin Woodsman looked away, blinking away the memories and something else that wasn’t said. His body visibly relaxed when he spoke to the girl. “We’re here, cub.” He smiled, going to Dorothy and kneeling in front of her, “Was Miss Glinda kind to you?”
The kid forced a smile and nodded her head.
“Good,” Tin Woodsman said, brushing away a loose curl from her face. “Lion’s still styling your hair cat-style, uh?”
She giggled, louder this time. “His tongue has bristles like a cat's!”
“We know he's just a big kitten.”
“And very sensitive,” the Lion made sure to add, feeling unbothered.
“We love you anyway,” Dorothy stated, hugging his mane. Toto barked, maybe to agree or maybe to call Dorothy's attention back to him.
“Alright, alright, pipsqueak,” the Lion said before licking the dog, too.
Toto barked louder, clearly offended by that audacity. The trio laughed together.
“Oh, Toto. We’re going home.” Dorothy said, taking the dog into her arms, “Glinda said she found a way to do it!”
The two friends cheered with her. The Lion gave an excited roar, and the Tin Woodsmen lifted her in a hug. “We’re so happy for you!”
“But we’re going to miss you so much!” The Lion admitted.
“I’ll miss you all too,” Dorothy hugged the Tin Woodsman and scratched the Lion’s mane with one hand.
Glinda cleared her throat. She could see the protective stance both the Lion and the Tin Man had taken around the girl. Suppose it wasn't surprising, after the journey they had together. Glinda knew nothing of what it had truly been like for them; she only had a bit of Dorothy's side. Watching their brief interaction, she knew it was a whole separate story that probably changed each of them forever.
“The grimmerie,” Glinda explained, “it showed me how to get the shoes off Dorothy's feet.”
“But… can you truly cast a spell from it?” The Tin Woodsman asked.
After so many lies, that level of weariness was just good sense.
“I believe so, though this time, I suppose Dorothy herself would have to cast it.”
The trio looked confused. Dorothy frowned, looking at her friends. “But I’m just a common girl.”
“Well, it says in the grimmerie that the enchanted shoes can provide a heart’s desire. All you have to do is think of what you want and click the heels three times.”
“But won't the slippers just stay with her if she... teleports away?” The Lion asked.
“Dorothy comes from a place without magic; it's likely the shoes won't be able to follow, and if they do, they'll lose their magic as soon as she's there, so they'll come off one way or another.”
The trio looked pensive. But Dorothy nodded, deciding quicker than the others. “I’ll try it.”
Her two friends tightened around her, hugging her from both sides. The Tin Woodsman was being notably careful, but the Lion nuzzled at her chest, not hiding his tears. “You be safe out there, cub.”
“And no more getting into tornadoes,” the Tin Woodsman joked kindly.
Dorothy threw her arms around their necks, holding them fiercely. She closed her eyes, letting the tears flow freely as she tried to imprint their presence on herself and in her memory. “I'll remember you, I promise.”
With infinite tenderness, they kissed her and slowly let go. Dorothy looked at Glinda, who was being haunted by a recent goodbye she had experienced with Elphaba. “Thank you-” the kid whispered, but was interrupted.
“I do not deserve it,” Glinda said with a sad smile. “Ready?”
The kid shook her head. Standing between her friends and the witch. Dorothy held her dog close to her chest and closed her eyes, wishing with her whole heart to be back home with her family.
Three clicks. They were clear in the air of the room.
They all held their breaths. Before doubt or anxiety could reach them, the magic buzzing enveloped the kid like a new type of wind. She was gone before they could process the last click.
“Can you be sure it worked?” Tin Woodsman asked, concerned.
Glinda heard the grimmerie flicking again, and with a quick peek at the new page, she had her answer, “I can.”
The man seemed to believe her.
“I heard you were looking for a heart…” she began, ready to offer to help.
“It's alright." The Tin Woodsman waved a hand at her, "I've found it.”
He called the Lion. The beast grunted, contended, and followed him.
Glinda didn't insist, but she also could not look away as the friends left. Whatever strange sense of familiarity she felt about then, she dismissed it as a brain’s confusion. She would sleep that day to greet a new Oz tomorrow.
Perhaps she would stay awake to see it settling, if that was what her heart needed.
The spot Dorothy had vacated was physically empty now, if not for the remaining magic buzz slowly dissolving.
The shoes had gone with her…
It was done.
The last remaining witness to the love Glinda felt for Elphaba, gone at last.