Chapter Text
In the aftermath of the Melting, Glinda puts herself back together through sheer force of will. There's work to be done, and she is the one person who can do it all. So she applies concealer every morning to hide the cracks in her demeanor and dons her silver crown like a piece of armor.
It's not the same as the performance she was putting on before.
She's not soothing people's worries with meaningless platitudes. She's making changes. She's doing real good. For the Animals, for the clueless Ozians… and for Elphaba. Who she only allows herself to think of alone, in her rooms, where she drinks herself into a tizzy and falls asleep in her bathtub most nights.
The grief hollows her out and the conviction weighs heavily on her shoulders—but it's worth it, Glinda knows. She knows this because she accomplishes many things. Wonderful things.
She banishes the Wizard and imprisons Madame Morrible. She disbands the Gale Force and places Fiyero's murderers on trial at the Hall of Justice. She has her staff gather all of the Wicked Witch propaganda within the palace and orders it to be incinerated. She issues a proclamation denouncing discrimination against the Animals, and rallies the League of Governors to repeal anti-Animal legislation across Oz.
However. There is one thing she hasn't quite figured out.
"Glinda?" Pfannee steps into her office. "Dorothy's asking for you again."
Glinda's forehead hits her desk with a resolute thud. "Oz help me," she groans. "Tell her to go away."
"I already did." Pfannee sighs, "She refuses to leave without seeing you. I don't think anything, short of Chistery scooping her up again, can stop her from setting up camp in the Throne Room."
Well, that won't do.
Glinda slowly lifts her head from the table. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, dread curdling in her gut at this unexpected reunion. "Give me five minutes."
Pfannee nods and exits the room, leaving Glinda alone to wonder what she can possibly say to a girl that wants so desperately to leave, but has no way home.
Glinda rolls back her shoulders and arranges her features into a pleasant smile before entering the Throne Room. She's redecorated since the Wizard's departure a week ago, covering the mechanical head with a large pink curtain and installing furniture for meetings to be held with officials. The head will have to be disassembled and moved out of the room in smaller pieces, so while it's on her to do list, she hasn't quite gotten around to it. In the meantime, she had Chistery and her new guards remove the Wizard's portrait and had the cages in the hidden room destroyed. With the cages gone, the room can serve as a storage space for official documents and old furniture.
Pfannee hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said Dorothy had been intending to camp out in the Throne Room. She stands in the middle of the room, back turned to Glinda, wearing a large backpack with a sleeping mat tucked under her arm. The dog, Dodo, is thankfully absent. Last time, he peed on the marble floor and Glinda had to call for the cleaning staff.
"Dorothy," Glinda starts, startling the girl. Dorothy spins around. "While this was entirely unexpected, it's lovely to see you again. What brings you to the palace?"
Her surprise soon sharpens into determination, brows furrowing as Glinda walks towards her and comes to a stop a few steps away. Glinda's heart twinges at the young girl's serious expression; she looks so much like Elphaba as she says, "I need your help."
"Ah, if this is about accommodations, I'm afraid we still don't have any rooms available here in the palace," Glinda lies.
"I'm not here about that, and you know it." Dorothy juts her chin out. "I want to go home, and you're the only person with magic who can get me there."
Briefly, Glinda wonders if the Wizard took off in his balloon and left Dorothy behind just to torment her. It wouldn't be out of character for him. However, he had always been an exceedingly careless person. So who's to say?
"As I explicated in our previous audiences, I do not possess the means to transport you home." Glinda spreads her hands. "It would be one thing if I knew where this Bansas-"
"Kansas," Dorothy corrects.
"-is," Glinda continues. "But how am I supposed to craft a spell without knowing your destination?"
The truth of the matter is that Glinda hasn't been able to open the Grimmerie since the day Elphaba's effigy was burned. No matter what she tried - and she tried many, many things - it refused to open for her. She is certain there is some spell in the book that can get Dorothy home, but until she learns its inner workings, there is no use in entertaining the girl's request.
Dorothy rocks back and forth on her sparkly heels, contemplative. It's then that Glinda glances down and is reminded of the fact that the girl still wears Nessa's shoes. The sight of them drives a pang of guilt through Glinda's heart. She had given them to the girl out of pity - the poor thing had been incredibly shaken from the tornado. And Dorothy had been horrified at the thought of killing someone, even as the Munchkinlanders around them had celebrated.
Now, Glinda thinks she should've thought it through. Because if she hadn't had given Dorothy the shoes, Elphaba wouldn't have kidnapped Dorothy, and the Witch Hunters wouldn't have been able to find her by tracking the flying Monkeys.
And Elphaba wouldn't have had to die.
"Miss Glinda?" Dorothy says loudly, snapping her back to reality. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Of course." Glinda sniffs. "But you might as well repeat it, just to be sure."
Dorothy huffs in indignation but repeats it regardless. "I said, maybe you could use the shoes." She glances down at her feet. "When you first gave them to me, I couldn't take them off. I think the Wicked Witch of the East enchanted them that way." Dorothy looks up again. "That's why the Wicked Witch of the West was so cross with me—she didn't believe me when I told her that and thought I was just refusing her."
Glinda blinks slowly, the new information slotting into what she knows of Nessarose and Elphaba. Nessarose had never once displayed an aptitude for magic, and she wasn't sure if the Wizard had fathered her in addition to Elphaba. But perhaps her proximity to Elphaba growing up had changed things… just as the indelible mark Elphaba had left on her own life had enabled her to open the Grimmerie.
Glinda swallows the lump in her throat and smiles bracingly. "I see. I think it's best that you leave the shoes with me, then. I'll see what I can do."
Dorothy perks up at that. "Thank you!" She slides off the shoes and hands them over to Glinda. "When should I return for them?"
"I'll send for you," Glinda replies, already turning around. She's nearly at the double doors of the Throne Room when Dorothy calls out to her again.
"Wait! Is there any chance you could get me another pair of shoes? I walked here and-"
Glinda pretends not to hear her as she exits the room.
It's not that she hates Dorothy. Even with her annoying dog, the girl is perfectly polite. Sweet, even—when she's not swept up in a witch hunt. But every time she sees her, Glinda is reminded of Elphaba. And that just won't do.
She returns to her office and finds Shenshen waiting outside, looking pale. Glinda frowns as she approaches her.
"What's going on?" she asks.
After the Wizard left, Shenshen had been appointed as her Head of Staff—she handled scheduling for all of Glinda's appointments and meetings, of which she was supposed to be clear for the rest of the day. Rather than say anything, Shenshen simply hands her a newspaper clipping from the Munchkin Gazette. Glinda's stomach lurches when she reads the headline.
REJOICIFY, FOR GOODNESS COULD SUBDUE!
BONFIRE NIGHT CELEBRATION TO BE HELD FOR THE VANQUISHING OF THE WICKED WITCHES OF THE EAST AND WEST.
Glinda practically shoves the article back into Shenshen's hands. "Why in Oz did you show me this? You know I can't do anything about it."
And it was true. Elphaba had made her promise not to clear her name. And as much as it pained Glinda to do so, she would follow through on her Elphie's final wishes. Even if living a lie felt like dying inside, she would do it because she hadn't done enough for her when it mattered.
"I know," Shenshen says apologetically. "I just thought you might want to-" she hesitates.
"What." Glinda crosses her arms. "Spit it out."
"Retrieve Nessarose's body." Shenshen winces. "I looked into it after you came back-"
From the Melting, is what she doesn't say. It's a bit of a taboo subject—Pfannee and Shenshen have taken special care in the past week to not even say Elphaba's name. It drives Glinda crazy, because it feels like they're treating her as if she's made of glass, ready to shatter at a moment's notice, but she's also secretly relieved they haven't mentioned Elphaba. She's not ready to talk about her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
"-and I don't believe her body was ever removed from the house." Shenshen holds up the article again. "But with this happening, I fear the worst may occur."
Glinda clasps her hands together. "Tell me."
"They may desecrate her body. It's happened before—in Settica, when the Wizard destroyed that Animal waystation a few months ago." Shenshen looks away. "Publicly, it's a bonfire, but because the body hasn't been removed, I believe they might even burn the house down while she's still in it."
Glinda closes her eyes. "Oh Oz." She covers her mouth with a hand, but it does nothing to temper how sick she suddenly feels. "I"ll leave for Munchkinland immediately."
"Wait! That's not all," Shenshen says, and Glinda feels like slapping her. She always delivers news in the worst way possible. Why can't she ever just get to the point?
"The Tin Man is being lauded by the Munchkinlanders as a hero." Shenshen tugs on her collar, a nervous tic. "I believe he'll be the one installed as their new Governor."
The governorship of Munchkinland was traditionally passed down by bloodline. The Thropps had been in power for seven generations. Glinda had elected to leave the fate of Munchkinland to its inhabitants via free and fair election, figuring that someone within Nessarose's staff would run and win.
She should've known better.
Glinda's brow furrows. "Is he even a Munchkin?"
"According to him, yes." Shenshen rolls his eyes. "But, he's refused to disclose his former identity to the public. Whoever he was before his transformation… he wants it hidden."
Glinda purses her lips. "That doesn't bode well at all."
Shenshen nods. "I think we should set up a meeting with him."
Glinda nods back. "I'll draft a missive and have one of the Emerald Guards deliver it post-haste."
At that, Shenshen finally relaxes, shoulders deflating. Glinda reaches out and places a hand on her friend's arm. She gives it a brief squeeze. "You're a marvel, Shenshen."
Shenshen smiles. "Please, it was nothing."
Glinda arches an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me. I can always tell."
Shenshen scoffs. "Whatever." She glances at the shoes that Glinda holds in one hand. "How'd the meeting with Dorothy go?"
Glinda's expression sours. "Fine." She moves to enter her office and Shenshen follows behind her. Glinda drops the heels on her desk and collapses into her chair. "I just need to figure out how to get Dorothy home, on top of everything else." She waves a hand over the stacks of paperwork piled up on her desk.
The Wizard delegated a lot of the day to day politicking to his staff, but Glinda doesn't feel comfortable delegating anything just yet. There is so much to be done and undone. She refuses to let anything fall through the cracks.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Shenshen says encouragingly.
Glinda allows herself to lounge in her chair for another moment, staring up at the chipped ceiling and wondering when it had last been painted. "Shenshen?"
"Yes?" Shenshen automatically straightens.
"Could you inquire with the palace staff and see when the last time they redecorated the offices was?" Glinda sits up in her chair. "It may be time for a makeover."
Shenshen's brow furrows. "Not that I'm ever against a makeover, but is now the really time?"
Glinda laughs. "It wouldn't be now, don't be daft. I'd plan for it to happen at least a few months from now."
"Oh, I see." Shenshen glances down at her clipboard and writes a quick note to herself. "Anything else you need me to take care of?"
Glinda's stomach growls as she meets her friend's gaze. She does her best to not blush when it's obvious Shenshen heard it—her friend has always had a terrible poker face.
"Can you bring me some pastries from the kitchen?" Glinda shuffles some papers on her desk. "And ginger tea, if you please."
Shenshen gives a mock salute and takes her leave. Glinda pulls out a blank piece of parchment and picks up a pen to begin drafting her letter to the Tin Man.
She doesn't stop working until many hours later, when everyone else has gone home and she only has a candle to illuminate her writing. The only reason she doesn't fall asleep at her desk is because Chistery pads into her office without preamble and refuses to leave until he's granted permission to accompany her back to her chambers.
"You don't need to babysit me," Glinda grumbles, stifling a yawn as they walk through the palace. "I'm a grown woman, I'll have you know."
Chistery huffs disbelievingly but doesn't say anything more. This doesn't surprise Glinda. The only words she's heard him speak have been her name… another issue that needs addressing. She isn't certain what the Wizard or Morrible did to the Animals to remove them of their speech, but she's set on returning it to them all.
Yet another reason she needs to figure out how to access the Grimmerie.
"Well, here we are!" Glinda comes to a stop outside her door. "Chistery, I'll be heading to Munchkinland first thing in the morning." She smiles primly at him. "I'll be back the following day, if all goes according to plan."
As much as Glinda wants to depart today, there is simply too much work to be done that cannot be delayed. Thankfully, the bonfire celebration is a few days from now, so she still has time. But every moment that passes without knowing the state of Nessa's remains makes her feel increasingly ill.
Chistery nods at her but doesn't leave until Glinda has opened the door to her chambers and stepped inside. At first, she found his behavior towards her quite peculiar. It was almost as if he was worried over her well being, which didn't make a whole lot of sense, since he didn't give two figs about her until last week.
Perhaps, she muses, Elphaba had asked him to look after her, before she… never mind that! It was more likely that Chistery was keeping a close eye on her to ensure that she would follow through on her promise to restore Animals to their proper status as Ozians with equal rights and protections.
Yes, that made perfect sense. Nodding to herself, Glinda makes a beeline for her bathroom to wash off her makeup and change into her nightclothes.
After she's changed, she climbs into bed and places the Grimmerie into her lap. She's discovered in the past week that there really is no way to force it open—no wonder the Wizard and Morrible had been so delighted when it opened to Elphaba at will.
She's tried talking to it, singing to it, telepathing compliments to it, and nothing has worked.
"I'm very cross with you," Glinda scolds, staring down at the Grimmerie. "Why are you being so difficult? Did you give Elphie this hard of a time as well, or are you simply hellbent on tormenting me?"
The Grimmerie, of course, doesn't respond. Glinda sighs and places it on her nightstand. Perhaps she'll check out Morrible's former office when she returns from Munchkinland to see what notes she kept regarding the ancient book. For now, Glinda resigns herself to trying to fall asleep.
Tomorrow will be another long day, just like all the others, and it would be no good at all to doze off while riding the bubble. It happened a few days ago and she nearly crashed into a windmill. Since then, she's made more of an effort to sleep at night.
It's just hard, because it's only when she's alone that her thoughts drift to Elphaba and Fiyero. She closes her eyes and sees Fiyero dragged into the cornfield, struggling against the Gale Force as they restrain him. His apology to Galinda and the haunted look in his eyes plays back in her mind on repeat.
Glinda wipes her cheeks. She rolls over onto her back and shuts her eyes. This time, she sees Elphaba at Kiamo Ko, smiling warmly at her, telling her that she loves her, despite knowing she'll be dead to all of Oz in just a few clock-ticks.
Another restless night.
The next morning, Glinda rifles through her closet and debates what to wear to Munchkinland. She isn't planning on making a public appearance for the celebratory bonfire later in the week—and Oz forbid they invite her to it. Burning Elphaba's effigy had been unbearable, and having to do the same for Nessa would be utterly awful.
Even so, she knows she has to dress for the occasion, especially considering her audience with the Tin Man.
The thought of speaking to him makes her nervous. He had spoken of Elphaba with complete disdain and revulsion the night the Witch Hunters left for Kiamo Ko. According to Shenshen, he used to be a Munchkinlander before Elphaba transformed him with a spell from the Grimmerie.
Glinda doesn't know how much of that story she actually believes. She's seen the Grimmerie make Monkeys grow wings, but transforming a whole human being into tin? That is something else entirely.
Glinda ultimately decides on a peach dress that falls to her knees. It's sensible, with sleeves to her elbows and floral embroidery along the bodice. She leaves her crown and wand behind, along with the Grimmerie.
Elphaba entrusted it to her, and the last thing she wants to do is let it fall into the wrong hands.
Glinda steps out on the balcony and gives the bubble a once-over. As convenient as it is for travel, she longs to leave it behind. It is just another symbol of the "Good Witch," of which she feels she is neither word. At least, not yet.
She's disrupted from her thoughts by two Monkeys that swoop down from above and greet her with a customary incline of their heads. She immediately places them as Nolan and Orion, two of Chistery's finest guards.
Not all of the Winged Monkeys stayed at the palace after Glinda banished the Wizard. Only six remain from the original squadron of twenty, but they are enough to serve as her personal guard. Usually, they patrol the skies around the palace. They've never attempted to accompany her on her travels around the city or outside of it, until now.
Glinda sighs. "Chistery sent you, didn't he?"
They both nod.
Glinda harrumphs. "He's overly cautious! It's just a little ride to Munchkinland! I'll be fine!"
Nolan and Orion stare at her. Glinda huffs again.
"Fine! You better keep up! The bubble moves far more swiftly than you'd think!"
She lands her bubble at the outskirts of Colwen Grounds, hoping to not draw too much attention to herself. The last thing she needs is a reporter from the Gazette catching sight of her and spreading the news of her presence through Nest Hardings like wildfire.
Nolan and Orion land on the ground as she pops the bubble and steps out. She turns on them immediately. "I will have to insist that you do not accompany me to the estate itself. It'll give the wrong impression if I arrive to a diplomatic meeting with armed guards."
Nolan and Orion glance at each other. After a moment, they drop the spears they're holding. Glinda pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep, centering breath.
"You can walk me to the door," she finally says. "No further."
The walk to the front entrance of the estate is not long. She knows the way from the few times she visited Nessarose when she still… anyways. It appears that her overnight missive has been received, because it's Avaric who waves jauntily to greet her.
"Look who it is!" He smirks, and a wave of irritation washes over Glinda. "Finally decided to grace us with your noble presence, your Goodliness?"
"Oh, can it." Glinda rolls her eyes and pushes past him to open the door.
Avaric had been a third-year when Nessarose took over as Governor. The son of a margreave, Glinda found him to be a bit of a jerk during their time at Shiz. Even now, she still smarts over the jokes he played on Elphaba, even if he was good to Nessarose while in service to her.
"I'm surprised you're not running in the election," Glinda comments over her shoulder as Avaric falls into step beside her. "Or has your ego finally taken a bruising?"
Avaric scoffs. "You're one to talk." He shrugs. "And I'm not running simply because I'm not in the business of losing."
Glinda comes to a halt then. "Tell me about this Tin Man."
"Well," Avaric drawls. "He's made of tin-"
"Don't be obtuse," Glinda narrows her eyes. "I need to know."
Avaric sobers up at whatever he sees in her expression. He looks away and crosses his arms before he speaks again, "He's an angry man."
"What's he angry about?"
"What do you think?" Avaric deadpans. "He got turned into tin by Elphaba."
Glinda flinches. "Don't say her name."
Avaric's brow furrows. "Would you rather I call her the Witch?"
Glinda swallows the lump in her throat. "No."
"Then what-"
"Just don't talk about her," Glinda interrupts. "You didn't know her."
Avaric lifts an eyebrow questioningly but acquiesces all the same. "Okay." He runs a hand through his hair. "The Tin Man. I haven't spoken with him much this past week. Other than celebrating the Melting, he hasn't done much other than meet with Munchkinlanders eager to see him in person. He's taken up residence in Boq's old quarters-"
"What happened to Boq?" Glinda interrupts.
It's not a question she would ever have asked before, but she needs to know everything that's occurred to figure out the best course of action for Munchkinland.
Avaric shrugs again. "No idea. He disappeared the day before your wedding." He looks at her. "Honestly, I figured he ran off to see you. I guess he never made it, did he?"
Glinda frowns. "Why would he want to see me? We haven't spoken in four years."
She had only ever spoken with Nessa in the time since Elphaba flew away from the Emerald City. It was something they could commiserate over, together.
Avaric inclines his head. "Maybe because he's still in love with you."
"Oh Oz," Glinda groans. "Really?"
Avaric nods. "Him and Nessarose were on the rocks the before she died. I think he was tired of being here."
"Well, wherever he is, I hope it's far, far away." Glinda shudders. "I rejected him so many times. He could never take a hint, could he?"
"I suppose so." Avaric begins walking again, and Glinda goes to follow him. "The Tin Man's waiting for you in Nessarose's old office. He's rather eager to meet you, I think."
Bother. Not that Glinda didn't appreciate her fans, but some could be rather annoying if not dealt with properly. And she would have to tread very carefully with the Tin Man, especially if she was to discern his origin and motivations.
"Lovely." Glinda smiles as they reach the hall leading to Nessarose's office and stops when she sees the broken door. "What happened here?"
Half the door is gone, with the frame still standing but the plywood looking as though it's been run through by an Animal of some sort. And Glinda would know. Why, her wedding was crashed by a stampede just a week and a half ago.
"No idea." Avaric blows out a breath. "It happened the day that Nessarose died. I think she had a fight with Boq."
"You don't know much, do you?" Glinda responds, not bothering to disguise her annoyance.
"My apologies, your Goodliness." Avaric bows mockingly before her. "I should've brushed up on my knowledge of every happening to have happened the past week."
"Useless man," Glinda mutters to herself. She takes off for the end of the hallway, motioning Avaric not to follow. "Wait outside. This might take a while."
"As you wish!" Avaric calls as she approaches the door.
Glinda takes a moment to steel herself and roll back her shoulders. Then she's pushing open the door to see the Tin Man seated behind Nessa's old desk, his feet kicked up as he examines a newspaper in his hands.
Glinda closes the door behind her as the Tin Man scrambles to his feet. "Miss Glinda! What a pleasure it is to finally meet you in person!"
Glinda gives the man a once over. He doesn't look like he ever used to be a human. The one thing that catches her eye is the Thropp family crest stamped onto his chest. But before she can think too much of it, he's reaching across the table to extend his hand in greeting. "You can call me… the Tin Man."
"I'm familiar." Glinda smiles and shakes his hand daintily. The metal is cool to the touch.
The Tin Man's arm creaks as he lowers his hand. "Please!" He gestures to the chair across from him. "Take a seat!"
Glinda sits down and he's quick to follow. He clasps his hands together and examines her. Glinda schools her features into her usual approximation of friendliness, as unnerving as the man's flinty gaze is.
"So!" The Tin Man leans back in his seat. It irks Glinda how comfortable he is inhabiting the same space that used to belong to Nessa. "What brings you to Colwen Grounds?"
"I thought it would be prudent to meet the candidates for the upcoming election." Glinda laces her fingers together. "As Throne Minister of Oz, I will be working closely with the next governor, after all."
"Throne Minister." The Tin Man hums. "Odd name for your new position, isn't it?"
"Not at all." Glinda tilts her head. "It was used during the Ozma regency."
"That was over twenty years ago," the Tin Man points out. "Why bring it back now?" he asks, leaning forward.
Glinda resists the urge to lean back. "The structure of the government under the Wizard is a bit too hierarchical for my taste. I would like to implement a few changes to better represent the voices of all Ozians."
The Tin Man smiles, though Glinda finds no warmth in it. "How good of you."
Glinda presses her lips together. "Quite." She coughs into her hands and continues. "But that's enough about me! I came here to get to know you!"
"Me?" The Tin Man points at himself. "Are you certain?"
Glinda's brow furrows. "Yes."
The Tin Man pushes himself to his feet. Glinda moves to stand as well but he holds out a hand, motioning for her to stay put. A feeling of unease surges within her but she doesn't move.
The Tin Man paces back and forth in front of her for a few tick-tocks. Glinda's about to interject and say something, she doesn't know what, when he stops and whirls around to face her. "You really don't recognize me, do you?"
Glinda blinks at him. "I mean, I did see you from afar, during the march-"
The Tin Man waves a hand to cut her off. "No! From before." He eyes her hungrily, and Glinda feels her stomach sink like a stone as she finally pieces together all the information she's gathered.
Boq's sudden disappearance. The Thropp family crest. His greeting being "Miss Glinda" and not the customary "Your Goodliness."
"Boq," Glinda whispers, horrified. "Is that really you?"
The Tin Man claps his hands together. "Bravo! And here I was thinking you really were as stupid as you make everyone believe."
Glinda does a double take. "Excuse me?"
The Tin Man—Boq brushes her off. "You know, I had intended on asking for your hand in marriage before this-" he motions toward himself "-happened." He looks up at her. "I don't suppose if I asked now, you would say yes?"
"Boq, what happened to you?" Glinda covers her mouth with one hand. "I-"
Boq huffs. "What do you think? The Witch-"
"Her name is Elphaba," Glinda says coldly.
"The Witch," Boq repeats, not backing down. "Your former best friend and the former bane of my existence, turned me into this… this monstrosity."
Glinda shakes her head. "This has to be a misunderstanding. Elphie would never-"
Boq laughs. It's loud, and grating enough to make Glinda wince. "Your Elphie was just as wicked as her sister was."
"Nessa?" Glinda frowns. "What does she have to do with any of this?"
"She kept me here like a prisoner," Boq says bitterly. "She enacted a travel ban on all Munchkinlanders—no one could leave without her written approval." He scoffs, "All because she refused to let me go."
"That sounds awful," Glinda says, trying her best to empathize with him. She gets the feeling that any incendiary language may push him over the edge, and that's not something she wants to see. "I'm so sorry-"
"You should be!" he snarls, turning on her at once. Glinda's heart lurches back as he places his hands on the table and looks down at her. "It's your fault I got trapped with her to begin with."
"My fault?" Glinda sputters, aghast. "I suggested you ask her out on a date four years ago! Don't be ridiculous. It's your own damn fault you decided to entertain her beyond the Ozdust!"
Boq glares at her, and Glinda's certain that if a tea kettle had been attached to his head instead of a funnel, he'd be blowing steam right about now. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at how easy it is for you to absolve yourself of all blame, when you were the instigator in all of this." He leans forward, and Glinda meets his hardened gaze head on. "You arrested Morrible for killing Nessa. You got rid of the Wizard-"
"He left of his own accord-" Glinda rushes to say.
"Don't mistake me for someone who could be convinced by anything you have to say," Boq says sharply. "I'm not the lovestruck boy I used to be. I'm past that now."
Thank Oz, Glinda thinks privately, though she knows this would be an easier conversation to have if he was.
"I assume you're here to get rid of me too, depending on what I have to say." Boq shakes his head. "How typical. You were always so self-serving, weren't you?"
"I'm here to make sure that the next governor of Munchkinland is one that will represent all Ozians," Glinda replies evenly, trying to get the conversation back on track. "Regardless of any resentment you may harbor toward me, I hope that won't cloud your judgment when it comes to bettering all of Oz."
"Oz is already a far better place than it was even last week, with both wicked witches dead," Boq spits.
Glinda closes her eyes and reins her temper in. Snapping at Boq would not be productive right now. She reminds herself who she's doing this for and opens her eyes. "Will you restore Animal rights and protections?"
Boq backsteps. "Do you truly think so little of me, that you'd think me fool enough to discriminate against the same Animals I grew up alongside?"
Didn't stop you from slandering Elphaba and Nessa, Glinda thinks bitterly.
"Of course I'll restore them," Boq says. "I never believed the hullabaloo the Wizard spouted about them anyway."
"Good enough for me," Glinda mutters, pushing herself to her feet. "Well! I must take my leave now-"
"How awfully convenient for you-"
"Isn't it?" Glinda smiles charmingly at him.
Boq scowls. "Get out."
Glinda turns to leave but hesitates. "You may resent me all you want, Boq, but I never wished for you to be unhappy."
"Weak words from an even weaker woman." Boq crosses his arms. "You take the moral high ground and issue apologies as it pleases you. Understand this now." He lifts a hand to silence her before she can protest. "We are no longer friends. Whatever perception you once held of me, you can promptly disregard. I won't be placated nor pushed over like once before."
"You should understand something too," Glinda replies sternly. "It is not my intention to lead like the Wizard once did. I want to bring together all Ozians-"
Boq scoffs.
"-even you." Glinda arches an eyebrow. "We don't need to be friends to work together, Boq. But I do hope you're honest about helping the Animals, because it's the one cause I refuse to budge on."
"What changed?" Boq asks. "You were happy enough pushing anti-Animal propaganda not even a week ago."
"She died, Boq." Glinda's eyes water but she blinks back the tears. "She died fighting for the Animals, for the truth-"
"And good riddance," Boq interjects scornfully. "She wasn't the bookish girl we once knew at Shiz, Glinda. She became something truly wicked."
Glinda scoffs. "You accuse me of pushing propaganda while doing the same." She leans forward. "Why do you think the Wizard and Morrible painted her as the Wicked Witch? She was just another scapegoat for their misdeeds—the same way they used the Animals."
Boq laughs. "There you go again, removing yourself from the narrative." He picks up a newspaper from the desk and tosses it at her chest. "You only became Good through her wickedness."
Glinda fumbles to catch it. She unfolds it and there she is, her likeness splashed across the front page—Glinda the Good, juxtaposed against the caricatured Wicked Witch the West. Glinda lets the article slip from her fingers and fall, sick at the reminder. There's a reason she had all the propaganda in the palace burned post-haste. "I'm well aware of the role I played."
"Are you?" Boq says mockingly. "You distanced yourself from her so thoroughly that she came to Nessa, begging for help despite abandoning her, before ever coming to you."
Glinda didn't know that. When Elphaba had finally visited her, it had taken a great deal to convince her to work with the Wizard, but it had been too little and too late.
"If you insist on reminding me of mistakes, I'll remind you of yours." Glinda stares him down. "Whatever happened between you, Elphaba and Nessa—the only reason you find yourself in this position now is because of your own inaction and inability to be honest sooner rather than later."
"I find myself in this position," Boq says tightly. "Because Nessa tried to kill me, and Elphaba thought turning me into tin was saving me."
Glinda's face blanches. "How-"
"I don't know!" Boq exclaims. "It was all Elphaba's fault. She brought an old spellbook with her, and Nessa used it to try to steal my heart… when it belonged to you."
"The Grimmerie," Glinda murmurs to herself.
Boq frowns. "The what?"
There is no reversing what was done to Boq. Not that Glinda was thinking about trying to fix it but… it's a terribly tragic thing to see. He is no longer recognizable in many ways, but he'll never again be the bumbling Munchkin with curling red hair who tried so hard to catch her attention.
"I understand now." Glinda looks him in the eye. "No spell can undo what has been done to you. But I hope you don't allow the hate in your heart to calcify and twist the Good that still resides within you, however little it may be, into something bad."
"Speaking from experience, are you?" Boq replies tersely.
Glinda sighs. "Forget it. I'm leaving."
"Does this mean I have your endorsement?" Boq calls as she turns to go. She picks up her pace, reaching the door in just a few steps. "Not that the other candidates are winning anyway!"
Glinda bids farewell to Avaric and reconvenes with Orion and Nolan outside.
"We'll have to keep an eye on the Tin Man," she tells them. "He's quite bitter, with a nasty attitude to boot, which makes him dangerous." She forces a smile. "Now, let's make our way to Dorothy's house. I'd hate to keep Nessa waiting any longer."
Orion and Nolan follow as she makes her way back to the bubble. She doesn't know the state of Dorothy's house or Nessa's body. Once she does, she'll be able to decide on a plan of action. She only hopes it's not too late… and that the Munchkins don't give her too much pushback.
She is Glinda the Good, after all.