Thank you to MyLittleElphie for the review. Not a genius, just a bit of a fanboy.

Thank you to RavenCurls for the review. Unlike some of the foreshadowing, Shell's was very vague. I didn't want to spoil it.

Thank you to nursejoy7 for the review. I won't.

Thank you to Barkateer1Fan for reviewing. I said it was a Gelphie. I never said they'd end up together. Remember: Gelphie hurts.

So here's the first chapter of the sequel. After this chapter, it will go on hold for probably six to nine months. I will be focusing on finishing up Reading the Signs. After that I will come back to this.

Also, I do post somewhat on tumblr under lightningprince25. It will be a bit more used with Reading the Signs as I will post a lot of references and notes there. Feel free to hit me up there or on if you have questions or comments.

As always, read, enjoy, review.

4/6/15

X

Glinda stood on her balcony overlooking the gardens. Off in the distance she could just catch the reflection of Restwater. Glinda knew that to her left the Emerald City would be glowing in the burgeoning light. She paid it no mind.

It had been three months since Glinda abdicated her position as Throne Minister. The new Throne Minister (and former General of the Home Guard) was named Sheltergod; a strange name for someone, but apparently his father had been deeply religious. So far his actions had been good for Oz. He had cleaned up the Administration, continued discussions with Munchkinland, and even reinstated funding for Glinda's schools. In addition, he demolished buildings damaged in the chaos of the last reign and rebuilt them on Oz' purse. The Emerald City citizens had grown to him.

Glinda was not so fortunate. Though the more common people remembered her generosity, some Emerald City citizens harbored dislike for her affiliation with Elphaba. Others resented her heavy handed use of magic during the last days of her Ministry, when she had quelled the riots. Combined with their new hero in the Throne Minister, Glinda's standing had fallen. She was not worried, though, as the Animals of the City still supported her. It would rise with time.

Glinda sighed again. Another issue that neither she nor the two heads of state could solve was the dilemma of Restwater. After the Munchkinlanders had pulled back to the other side, the now Throne Minister (as General) had fortified the near Emerald City side. A standoff began over the crucial water supply. The Hall of Approval did not want to give up access to the City's water supply and forced the Throne Minister to stay. The old nobility of Munchkinland could not bear the idea of losing what had been traditionally theirs, forcing Boq to dig in. Tension had risen until another war looked imminent.

It was then Glinda stepped in. She had been looking for an excuse to leave the City, feeling claustrophobic. Familiar with the newly renovated Mockbeggar Hall, she had purchased it from its rapidly ailing owner. Strangely enough, the estate came with the Baronetcy of Paltos. As such, Glinda the Good was now the official Baronetess of Paltos. Though this title had not actually granted access to the Hall of Approval, Glinda's property and enterprises had qualified her. She now had the right to sit in the Hall as a first tier baron; an unheard of feat for a woman.

When the states heard that Glinda had taken residency in Mockbeggar, both had tried to convince her to abdicate. Glinda had politely refused, and all but dared them to conduct their war over her home. Both states knew to do so would be political suicide, and so settled into a tense staring contest. Glinda had welcomed the use of the Mockbeggar estate as neutral ground, and officers routinely used it to deliver and receive messages.

Today she was heading into the City. Though she wished to cut ties with the place, Glinda understood she still had to maintain a presence; though for what reason she did not know. Her plan was to tour those schools and apartments she still supported, and call upon some of the local nobility still amicable to her. From there she would take the train to Shiz. School had been in session for a couple of weeks now, and Glinda wanted to check on her Adepts.

There was a knock at the door. Glinda turned.

"Come in." she called across the room. A tall figure clad in white opened the door.

The woman was a mystery to Glinda. One of her new handmaidens, the tall woman was shrouded in white from head to toe. Even her face was hidden, revealing only the slightest amount of pale skin and green eyes. When Glinda asked Mr. Jonkel (her steward) about it, he explained that the young woman had a traumatic past, and no longer spoke. Her veils were the best she could do to detach from the world. They did not know her name, but she responded to the name they gave her. Illiana.

"Is it time to get ready, Illiana?" Glinda asked. The shrouded woman nodded, causing Glinda to sigh. She came in off the balcony and shucked her robe. By that time, Illiana had begun to lay out the dress for her.

A more subdued dress than in the past (to go along with Glinda's more subdued social life), it was a light blue with white accents. The bodice still cinched her in, but the shape had changed to a more conical form, and the waist elevated. Under the dress she wore a bustle pad to accentuate her hips and rear (something Glinda inwardly crinkled her nose at). Afterward, layers of underskirt were worn and pinned up. Her make-up was much lighter with only just a bit of blush, some rouge for her lips, and a touch of shadow. Finally, her hair was pulled back into a conservative bun and topped with a wide brimmed hat that was pinned in place.

"Alright, Illiana, I'm ready to go. Please inform Jonkel." Glinda said. The woman bowed her head demurely and walked out of the room. Glinda sighed again but soon followed.

X

Elphaba looked out at the peaks of the Great Kells from the grand windows in Kiamo Ko's Throne Room. She pulled her shawl close. With summer fading, the old castle had begun to grow colder. Daylight was starting to remove the bite, but it was still there, especially this high. Elphaba sighed and thought of Glinda.

At first they kept in contact. Elphaba knew of her moving to Mockbeggar, and some of the happenings in the City. However, after the first month, the letters began to get less frequent. Two weeks ago they had stopped entirely. Elphaba knew her dear friend was still well (as Chistery had at least one Flying Monkey keeping an eye on her) but also knew she should make the time to visit. There was still much unresolved business between them. Elphaba did not admit it, but her fear of resolving those issues is what kept her away.

"Fae?" came a gentle voice. Elphaba turned to see Fiyero (clad traditionally in only breeches) watching her intently. "What's up?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing that can't wait." She replied. "The Scrow, Zyma, and Garamana representatives are going to be here today, correct?"

"Yes." Fiyero replied, running a hand through his long braided hair. "The Yunamata Nation has stepped up their harassments of them. Along with the other raids, it is becoming a real problem. Father is hoping to get a coalition together to cow the Yunamata into stopping."

"Power politics never changes." Elphaba said. Fiyero smiled sadly.

"No, it doesn't. But shall we stop brooding on this and get breakfast?" he asked. Elphaba nodded. The two came together, and started the slow walk towards the dining hall. Elphaba noticed one of the doors to a balcony open and frowned. She did not remember it being that way. She opened her mouth to ask Fiyero when a repugnant smell hit her.

"Yero, watch out!" Elphaba yelled.

Dart shaped shadows flew towards them. Fiyero dodged to the left but Elphaba stood her ground. She banished the darts and threw a blast of air where she knew the assailant would appear. The dark robed figure had barely landed when the blast hit them, and they stumbled. Elphaba pressed her advantage, smashing the figure off balance with two more before crushing it to the floor with a downdraft. As it rose to its knees, Elphaba conjured ice and froze it in place. She crossed the distance in a heartbeat.

"Who are you?" she demanded. The person did not answer. In her rage, Elphaba tore away the hood and cover that hid the face. It was a man of olive skin distinctive of the western edge of Ev. Elphaba's sight, though, told her something was off. "I asked: who are you?"

The man did not respond, merely trying to weave a spell. Elphaba tore them apart before he could even begin. Eventually, the man desisted. He glared up at Elphaba. Now, Elphaba could see a creeping darkness both magically and physically across his skin. It looked as if it was beginning to crack. Diving deeper into her sight, Elphaba saw a spell woven into his very life force begin to take effect. Elphaba did not know who would do such a thing.

"You are dying! Tell me who sent you, and I will stop it." Elphaba urged. Finally, the man answered her. Not with words at first, but a rasping laugh.

"Stop her? Unlikely. This Oz is hers. You witches will burn." He gasped out, and started laughing again.

His laugh slowly turned into groans and then cries of pain as black heat began to seep out from the cracks. Elphaba took a step back moments before the man burst into shadow flames, his death cries echoing off stone walls. As the last vestiges of the man disappeared, Elphaba waved her hand. The shadow flames blew away, leaving nothing left. She turned back to Fiyero, who was now flanked by both his Sworn Guards and her own Witch Guard.

Elphaba's brow furrowed, and she absentmindedly brushed off Fiyero's concerns. Something was nagging at her brain. Running through the fight in her head, everything seemed fine. When she got to the end, however, her conscious and unconscious mind finally met. Her eyes widened and she brushed by Fiyero and her guards.

"Fae, what is it? He asked, following her.

"He said witches!" was her only reply as she sprinted towards the west wing of the castle. Fiyero swore, and lengthened his stride to keep up with her.

X

Glinda floated through the City streets. The buildings around her were worn, and the cobblestones had tuffs of grass peaking through. All that, though, paled in comparison to the underlying stench of squalor. As usual when Glinda visited the poorer areas of the City, the lower classes clung to her.

Her retinue of footmen (under their Staff Captain) kept the mob from rushing the revered woman. Her footmen let a small trickle of people through, who were then met by one of her handmaidens. They ordered in some semblance of order to meet her. This let everyone have a personal moment without anyone monopolizing it. Often a citizen would go away with a coin for their troubles. Glinda's renowned largesse was also a reason for the crowd.

Glinda had not been happy about the arrangement at first, but Jonkel had insisted. He stated that it had worked well for his previous households as it allowed intimacy but safety. Glinda, her mind on greater matters now, had acquiesced. Anytime someone had gotten out of line, the harsh bark of the Staff Captain (named Ronce) settled them. That, or the business end of the wooden staff he carried. As she moved through the lower parts of the City, she was thankful as it had made travel easier and allowed her carriage to follow closely.

As she was shaking the hand of a little girl, a harsh bark of warning caught Glinda's attention. Expecting to see some destitute cowed, Glinda turned to rebuke the Staff Captain. Instead she saw a large man with something in his hand sprinting towards her. Everything slowed. Glinda tried to summon her magic but knew it would be too late. As the man brushed past one of her handmaidens, Glinda's brain deciphered the image. A side sword. It was then Glinda feared not for her life, but another's.

A white ghost stepped in front of the man, obscuring Glinda's vision. There was the harsh grate of metal on metal and he was thrown back. A gleam of light cut across Glinda's sight and the man clutched his throat with a gurgle. It did nothing to stop the spurt of blood from escaping. Cascading over her white protector, Glinda thought it was the perfect analogy for lost innocence.

The world sped back up and Glinda heard a scream. The crowd had begun to flee. The girl at Glinda's side clung to her, and she could see her mother screaming. As more men assailed her retinue, Glinda shooed the girl to her mother. The woman sobbed in gratitude but Glinda paid her no mind. The smell of blood and din of fighting flashed her back to all those months ago, and her body itched with adrenaline, as if urging her to wade into it.

Another man came for her white clad handmaiden and Glinda began to summon her air spell. Her handmaiden beat Glinda's action, parrying the incoming sword with her newly acquired one and smashing a fist across the man's jaw. The extra solid thump gave Glinda reason to believe that she was hiding something metallic under her clothes.

Glinda scanned the area as she reinforced her spell. She blasted two thugs ganging up on one of her handmaidens, and followed it with a succession of air blasts that sent the rest tumbling away. As they regained their feet they saw a number of short, stubby rifles pointed at them and thought better of it. Discretion seemed to be the better part of their valor.

Staff Captain Ronce came to her, eyes still scanning the area. He had lowered his short rifle (a kind Glinda had not seen before) but still held it ready.

"Are you ok, My Lady?" he asked gruffly. His bearing, though not undisciplined before, now had the hardness of a career soldier. Glinda's suspicion grew.

"Yes, thanks to my handmaiden here. Though seeing as all my footmen and maidens somehow magicked up arms," Glinda said, motioning to her retinue, "I'm guessing she isn't a typical maid."

"Quite right." Replied Ronce with a wry smile.

"Are any of you injured?"

"Not significantly. We wear padded jacks under our coats, My Lady; not stuffed shirts like the Emerald City pretty boys. We remember where we came from."

"And where might that be?"

"A history lesson for another time. We need to get you to your flat as soon as possible."

"My flat?"

"Yes. Mockbeggar is too far and we don't want you hurt."

"On that we quite agree. Come, Illiana."

"Well, I guess I don't need this anymore." Illiana said. Glinda thought the voice was familiar. "Good thing too; that blood is starting to suffocate me."

Glinda's white veiled handmaiden removed her headclothes, revealing stark red hair and a familiar face. Glinda stared.

"You see something you like?" the woman asked with a sly grin.

"Wynnessa." Glinda breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? And none of this Wynnessa business; I get that enough from Duran and Robiere."

"Less talk, more hustle, Wynne." Ronce snapped. Wynne rolled her eyes but ushered Glinda towards the carriage. As they entered, she heard Ronce bark out. "Alright, Dogs, let's move!"

X

"Spill it, Wynnessa." Glinda said as the carriage lurched forward. "What are you doing here and who are they?"

"They, Miss Glinda," Wynne replied, green eyes sparkling with excitement, "are the Dogs of War."

"And just what does that mean?"

"Remember when I told you about Duran's favorite phrase? 'Cry, Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war'? Well, apparently he liked it so much he named his own people after it."

"They're all like you? His agents?" Glinda asked in disbelief. Wynne shook her head slightly.

"Not exactly. I told you Duran isn't as poor as he seems. Well, even I didn't know how much he had. These retainers are part of his household. Some are like me, those he picked up; but some are multigenerational."

"He has to be a Baron of some repute to have so many clients. What is his family?" Glinda inquired but Wynne shook her head again.

"Even they don't know. They simply know it as the House of Duran. Most speculate that this incarnation of Duran is just another male heir who has been glamored to look the same as the previous."

"How could no one notice?"

"Well, the Household does not congregate all in the same place. It appears there's no set estate; only disparate companies and facilities that they draw revenue and recruits from. The Dogs themselves, which are referred to formally as the Arms Militant of the House of Duran, hardly ever fight together. Most are like me; swords for hire. Some of the staff are also contracted for hire to houses or companies in need of their services."

"Like Jonkel and the rest of my staff." Glinda said, eyes narrowing. Wynne nodded.

"Yes, just like that. Clients love having a package deal on services." Wynne laughed.

"So how did you not know about this?"

"I wasn't told. All those of the Household have to be of proven loyalty. I hadn't done something for him yet. He visited me while I was recuperating, and told where to be. The rest of the Dogs clued me in after. The only exceptions are those who are born in the Household; they are sworn to it first by their parents, but later given the choice multiple times. Like I was, they are educated and given a choice on what they want to be."

"How has he kept it hidden?"

"Who has bothered looking?" Wynne retorted. "It's not like he has a castle and army hidden away somewhere; he has different groups of people who rent their services out. Even the Household themselves don't know how many there are."

"Well, that explains some things" Glinda huffed. Wynne nodded her head.

"Exactly what I thought."

X

Glinda followed Wynne out of the carriage after they crossed the threshold into her flat. She was surprised to see Jonkel as she exited, who offered her a hand. She took the assistance, giving him a hard look. His hard face remained impassive.

"It is good to see you are unharmed, My Lady." He said.

"Well, it is good the Dogs were there to see me through it, Jonkel." Glinda replied gratefully. Neither Wynne nor Jonkel missed the reproach in her tone, but the rest of her retinue did. They began to smile shyly.

"It is their duty, My Lady." Jonkel replied evenly.

"So I heard. I am surprised to see you here, Jonkel, and with so much staff. I thought my flat was being run with only a skeleton staff." Glinda inquired.

"It was, My Lady. However, I thought it best some of us be around just in case you needed us." He replied.

"And if I hadn't? Would I have returned to a half empty house?" Glinda continued, but Jonkel shook his head.

"No. We would have set out in front of you, and the rest of the staff remaining at Mockbeggar would have prepared the house for your arrival."

"I see. That's very organized of you."

"It is my duty as the Steward of your House." He replied with a bow. Glinda noticed the Dogs unpacking her carriage.

"Am I to stay here tonight, Jonkel?" she asked with just a hint of anger in her voice.

"I feel it best, My Lady. The open road is too much of a hazard without a proper escort. We will have it done tomorrow if you wish to continue your plans of going to Shiz."

"I see. Well, then, I will need to sup and bathe. Can you see to it?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"And send Wynnessa up. Just because I know it is her now does not mean she will get out of her duties. But make sure she takes a bath, and presents herself accordingly to my retinue. She'll know what I mean."

"Of course, My Lady. I'll see to it at once."

Glinda nodded, and moved off to her room.

X

It was strange for her to be back in her room. She had forgotten exactly how the place she had spent most of her adult life felt. It appeared just as she had left it, except for her boudoir. The family heirloom had traveled to Mockbeggar with her. Glinda could almost feel the presence of Elphaba and Fiyero. She squeezed the object in her hand tighter, and ran a hand over her stomach.

"Miss Glinda?" came Wynne's voice. The woman turned to see Wynne standing there in a footman's coat and with her sword (though she was wearing the boots Glinda made for her all those months ago).

"Yes, Wynnessa?"

"You sent for me?"

"Yes. I need to bathe and change before I have supper."

"I had hoped that since the charade was over you would use one of your other maids." Wynne sighed.

"Consider it your punishment. I will be lenient on the outfit, if only because it looks good on you, but," Glinda said, and snapped her fingers. Wynne's hair curled and face colored. "I'll do no such thing about your appearance. Come now, we have work to do."

Wynne sighed but entered.

X

Glinda clutched the stone to her chest. Her day had continued in excitement. During her bath, Jonkel had informed her of a caller. After dressing appropriately, she had met the man (an old acquaintance of hers from the City). He had called to check on her as the news of her attack had spread. She had assured him of her health, and sent him on his way. The stream of well-wishers had not ceased since then.

Around dinner, two much unexpected guests had come calling: Avaric, Margreave of Tenmeadows, and the Throne Minister himself, Shell. Jonkel and the rest of the staff were on edge with the number of guards each brought with them. Glinda could not be so rude to send them out the door like the others, so they had dined.

After the initial rounds of small talk, the conversation turned towards politics. The new Throne Minister sheepishly asked Glinda on how to get the Hall to approve a new law to grant a small stipend to disabled soldiers. Glinda (thinking the cause worthy) told him who to talk to and wrote a letter for Avaric to read in the Hall announcing her support. It was far from closing the deal, but all thought it would be a great help.

After she had seen both men out, Glinda retired to her room. She was happy neither had seen how she had worried with the stone during dinner. It would have been an undying shame. Even now, as Wynne helped her dress down to her robe, she held it close. By the time Wynne had bid her goodnight, Glinda was desperate. Walking to the glass doors leading to her balcony, she looked at the moon and wondered what Elphaba was doing right now. Shaking her head, she turned away from the sight and went to her bed.

A noise behind her made Glinda jump. She turned, words coming unbidden to her mouth. The sight of the man nudging in the door calmed her but then confusion rose.

"Jonkel, what are you doing?" Glinda asked as the man scanned the room. As he slowly moved in, Glinda saw one of those short, stubby rifles in his arms. Her heart fluttered as she noticed Wynne come in behind him, sword drawn. "I asked: what are you doing?"

"The Dogs caught sight of someone moving in the flat grounds. They couldn't find them, but we thought it best to come here." He replied, not looking at Glinda. He moved left to check one of her empty rooms while Wynne moved towards Glinda.

"There is no one here." Glinda replied. "Are you sure there was someone? It's not just nerves, or some exotic bird?"

"Oh no, My Lady," came a voice from around the room, "your guards are well trained."

Glinda whipped her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the man. All she saw was the glint and ring of steel. Wynne stepped back, disarmed. The woman drew her dagger, but a cold blade near Glinda stopped both of them. Glinda noticed a couple of more of the staff come into the room, each with their own weapons. Glinda breathed lightly.

"Who are you?" asked Glinda faintly. She could hear the amusement in the reply.

"Ask me no questions and I'll spell you no lies." Came the voice gently. Glinda's mind reeled back to a dark night in the City.

"Duran?" she asked and was met with a hearty chuckle.

The blade disappeared and Glinda felt the man move from behind her. The lamplight finally caught him, shedding the shadows. Under the brim of the hat was the familiar smile, and over the loose tunic was the garish purple scarf.

"You called?" he asked. Glinda glanced at the Dogs, who were staring a bit. None had lowered their weapons. Glinda motioned for them do so.

"I did. What took you so long?" Glinda inquired almost petulantly. One of Duran's eyebrows arched.

"I was stuck babysitting in the Vinkus. Notice the tan." He replied jovially. Glinda did notice his skin as darker. She also noticed something else.

"What happened to your eye?" Glinda asked, worried. The light had caught his face and illuminated a long, vertical scar over his right eye and onto his cheek. Duran's smile didn't fade.

"Does it make me look dashing? A mere graze of a sword, don't worry; my eyesight is still perfect."

"You, cut?"

"Crowd fighting forty soldiers is difficult, even for me." He replied jovially. None knew if he was serious about the number. That worried them in and of itself.

"Damn it, Duran!" Wynne yelled, causing Glinda to jump. "You couldn't have just walked in the front gate?"

"Now where's the fun in that?" he laughed. Wynne rolled her eyes.

"We could have killed you, Duran." Jonkel replied seriously. Duran turned his smile on him.

"Could have. Considering the Dogs barely saw me, and Wynne obviously couldn't stop me," he continued and Wynne huffed, "the risk was manageable.

"Still, next time I would prefer you to announce yourself." Jonkel answered. Duran rolled his eyes.

"Dashing swordsmen don't announce themselves. Well, they do, but not when a more dramatic entrance is available."

This time Jonkel sighed, but finally unshouldered his weapon.

"I'll leave the lady in your care." He said and motioned for the rest to leave. The staff nodded to Duran, and he nodded back. Wynne picked up her (now Glinda noticed) shorter sword.

"If you hadn't had range…" Wynne started.

"No excuses, Wynnessa. Go, we'll have time later for practice." Duran cut her off. She nodded, and left. Finally, Duran sheathed his sword and turned back to Glinda. "Now, what is it you needed me for? It felt pretty serious, but not dangerous."

"I…you see…" Glinda stuttered, but stopped. Duran's eyebrow arched again.

"Yes? You usually are more eloquent than this." Duran noticed, his tone carrying the barest hint of worry.

"Yes, well…" Glinda said, but could not figure out to continue. Finally just deciding to go for it, she lurched forward and connected her lips with his.

Glinda clung to him desperately, trying to drink him in like a water in the desert. Caught off guard, he was tense at first, but relaxed into the kiss. His tongue caressed hers for a moment, and Glinda longed for a deeper kiss, but he tensed again and then jerked back quickly, disconnecting himself.

"No, this is wrong." He whispered hoarsely.

His eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be talking to himself. Glinda stood rooted to the spot as her last pillar crumbled under her. Tears sprung up to her eyes, and Duran finally noticed. He realized what he said and quickly went to amend it.

"No, not you. This situation is wrong, it's…it's…" he tried to explain.

"You love someone else." Glinda sobbed and her hands went to her eyes. She had no hope of stopping the tears but knew of nothing else to do.

"No!" Duran protested and then hesitated. He went again to correct himself, but then stopped again. "It's nothing to do with you. Not…exactly. It's…please, sit. I will tell you, but it's a long story."

Even through her pain, Glinda realized this was a rare moment for him, and a rare chance for her. She let him gently usher her to the bedside, and sat. He did not, however, taking a step or two away and a deep breath. He lifted the hat to smooth his hair, and then ran his hands down the front of the tunic as if to straighten it. Finally, he turned back to Glinda.

"It's not you that's wrong. It's the situation. You don't want me; I heard what happened. You have been so strong, but now you feel as if you can't go on. You're trying to find something to help you be strong."

Glinda nodded. That was she had been feeling.

"Now, you may think 'why not anyway'? And that's where my story comes in. Not too long ago, I was in a similar situation. A lady I…knew, her lover had left her. They still were in love, but fate decided they must be parted at the time. As you know about Oz, a lady may have one she loves but not necessarily be the only one she has relations with. Duty may demand otherwise."

Glinda nodded again. So far she had managed to avoid that fate, but just barely.

"Her lover had to travel, and she was promised to a man. Despite meaning nothing to her, this caused friction between her and her lover. They parted on less than amicable terms. They still loved one another, but needed to figure this out. It did not help they departed with an old flames of theirs."

Glinda paid rapt attention, her forgotten tears drying on her face.

"This lady leaned on me during this time, as most of her confidants were either far from her, or imprudent to be spending too much time with. As such, we grew closer. One night, she came to me in almost the same manner you did. Unlike tonight, I gave in. We shared a beautiful few days together."

"Now, to the warning. When her lover came back, she was truthful with them. Her lover, however, had been a bit suspicious of me ever since we met. The lovers' spat added to it, and they began to quarrel. It hurt their relationship for many months. They finally healed the breach, after much time, but I've always regretted my role in the matter."

"You worry the same would happen here?" Glinda finally spoke. He nodded.

"I do. It is not me you love; not truly. I am also not worthy of your love, were you even to give it. Therefore, anything more than friendship between us could end in disaster." He finished, and Glinda could hear the sadness he had masked to this point.

"You're...you're right. Forgive me?" Glinda whispered, looking down. She felt rough hands slip into her and looked at Duran's slight smile.

"There is nothing to forgive. Besides, this should be a joyous time for you."

"What do you mean?" Glinda asked, forcing her voice to be even. Duran quirked an eyebrow.

"You have to know. Have you told Elphaba yet?"

Glinda froze.

"How…how…" was the only words Glinda could manage. Both of Duran's eyebrow sat on his forehead.

"I feel the ripples in your magical presence. Remember that spell I gave Elphaba? After years of it, you learn how to read auras. Magical ones are particularly noticeable."

"Oh."

"So you haven't told her yet?"

"No. No I haven't." Glinda said, and placed a hand on her stomach. "I don't want to complicate her feelings. Her sense of duty would force her to be with me and our child."

"Child?" Duran said with a hint of amusement. The tone forced Glinda to look at him. His grin was from ear to ear.

"What?"

"My dear Glinda, you're carrying twins."

"W-what? How can you know?"

"Like two tiny ripples in a pond, I can see them. Powerful witches, they will be."

A shiver went down Glinda's spine.

"Is that a prophecy?" she whispered. Duran laughed.

"No, Miss Glinda. I do not believe in any fate more than we make it. I just can see it in their auras, and look at their parentage." He replied. Glinda let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good." She said. They sat there for a moment before Glinda felt awkward. "Can I…do or get anything for you?"

"A bath would be nice." He answered. "Being in the Vinkus for weeks hasn't allowed me a proper bath for a while."

"Oh! Of course. You can use mine." Glinda said and stood. Duran raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Really? I had thought to use another."

"Nonsense. Mine is the best in the flat." Glinda replied and moved towards it. Duran followed after.

The pale witch waved a hand and the faucets turned, pouring water out. Duran noticed it seemed to set to the right temperature. Glinda pointed out a few of the soaps and other necessities while Duran took off his sword belt. After that, he that waited for Glinda. When she didn't leave, he smiled.

"If you'd leave I could actually undress to get into this nice bath." He urged gently. She seemed to start a bit, but then Glinda smiled.

"Of course. I'll have fresh clothes brought for you."

"Thank you." He said, and then took off his hat and scarf. "Could you place these out there? They don't take to humidity well."

"Yes, of course. Enjoy your bath, Duran."

"Thank you, My Lady." He replied with slight smile.

Glinda paused as if to say something more, but then left. Duran shook his head with his slight smile, but then quickly got dressed down. He planned to enjoy his bath.

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