Chapter Text
Glinda the Good’s palace was one of the most beautiful places in Oz, Dorothy decided as she walked up to the entrance gate, arm-in-arm with Ozma. Gillikin-style architecture, a grand building cut from white and pink marble, it sat between two luscious hills in the uppermost part of the upper uplands. The pink tourmaline inlaid along the wide domes sparkled in the sunshine, making the whole scene feel especially magical.
Of course Glinda would have such a beautiful home when she was one of the most beautiful women in Oz. Many things in Oz were rather queer, and took some getting used to, but it made perfect sense that the lovely Good Witch would spend her time in a beautiful palace surrounded by other beautiful women. Likewise, it made perfect sense that someone like Glinda the Good would have a castle filled with so many friends.
Aunty Em was still Dorothy’s favorite aunty, but Glinda came in a close second. Ever since Dorothy touched down in Munchkinland, the Good Witch had been nothing but helpful to her, saving her from that scary Wicked Witch and helping her get home to Aunty Em and Uncle Henry. She was even kind enough to enchant the silver slippers so that Dorothy could travel between Kansas and Oz whenever, without needing to catch the nearest tornado or risk dropping a house on any more witches.
And it was a good thing Glinda did, or else Dorothy would have never met Ozma, her bestest, most favorite friend in the world. She’d only known Ozma for a couple years, but Dorothy couldn’t imagine her life without her.
The two girls skipped along happily, Toto trailing alongside them, making merry conversation.
“When I’m older, I’m going to go to Shiz and study sorcery just like Aunty Glinda did,” Ozma declared. She took Dorothy’s hand in excitement. “And you’re going to come with me. We can be roommates!”
“What would I study?” Dorothy asked. She wasn’t a natural sorceress like Ozma, and while she was curious about a great many things, she never imagined going to university before.
Ozma shrugged. “Law. Linguification. You know, Aunty Glinda told me that if she hadn’t majored in sorcery, she would have studied architecture. Maybe you could do that!”
“Maybe,” Dorothy mused. It was hard to imagine leaving Aunty Em and Uncle Henry and everyone on her farm behind, even if it was to live with Ozma. But she was still young, and some years away from having to think about such things.
An idea came over her. Dorothy turned to face Ozma. “Hey, I bet I could beat you to the entrance!”
Ozma’s green eyes gleamed at the challenge. “In your dreams.”
The usually poised, refined girl broke off into a sprint before Dorothy could say a word, looking back to stick her tongue out. Dorothy ran after her, Toto alongside her. Growing up tramping through the Kansas prairie, she should have had an easy victory, but the silver slippers she wore weren’t very conducive to running. It was enough of a disadvantage to make her and Ozma an even match, and the young girls arrived at the entrance to Glinda’s palace at the same time.
The door was guarded by two women dressed in identical pink military jackets and white skirts. Despite their silver-tipped spears, the women stood at ease, laughing amongst themselves. They didn’t notice the girls’ presence until Ozma marched on over, dragging Dorothy by the hand.
“Hello,” she sang, her voice taking on a Glinda-like lilt. Ozma admired the Good Witch more than anyone, Dorothy knew, and often tried to emulate her (to varying degrees of success). “We’re here to see Aunty Glin- Her Goodness.”
The two guards looked at each other. “Her Goodness wasn’t expecting visitors today.”
Dorothy glanced over at her best friend. “Ozma,” she whispered, “you did tell Aunty Glinda we were coming to visit, right?”
Ozma tilted her head up. Had Aunty Em been accompanying them, she surely would have scolded the girl for being haughty. “Her Goodness said we were welcome at any time. She’s the Dorothy Gale, if you didn’t know.”
“Sorry for the trouble,” Dorothy added. She could practically hear Aunty Em in the back of her head, scolding her for rudely showing up unannounced. “It’s nothing urgent, and we would hate to be a bother.”
“No, no it’s not that,” one of the guards promised. “Of course, you girls are always welcome. It’s just that Lady Glinda is feeling a bit… under the weather, shall we say.”
“She’s sick?” Dorothy asked before she could think the better of it. She couldn’t imagine the lovely Good Witch getting sick, couldn’t imagine Glinda being anything other than her beautiful, poised self. She didn’t even know that witches could get sick.
The two women glanced between one another. “Well, not quite…”
“Then what’s wrong?” Ozma demanded.
“Lady Glinda is… well, her spirits are quite low at the moment. She’ll be perfectly alright, but it’s best not to disturb her for the time being.”
Dorothy’s heart twisted at the thought of Aunty Glinda sad. She glanced at Ozma, who seemed to be having the same thought she was. “Surely there must be something we can do to cheer her up!”
“It’s really best to just let these things pass, dear.”
“That simply won’t do!” Ozma exclaimed, waving her hands and summoning a bouquet of poppies out of thin air. “We’ll give her some flowers. She says poppies always raise the spirits.”
The guards glanced between each other. “We can give those to her, if you want.”
“But we want to see Aunty Glinda,” Ozma whined.
Dorothy tugged on the sleeve of her friend’s dress. “Perhaps it’s best to come back later.”
“We have to cheer her up,” Ozma insisted. “Glinda works so hard to make everyone else in Oz happy, so now we have to return the favor.”
Dorothy nodded. Her friend’s line of reasoning made perfect sense. Glinda had helped her so many times. It was only right to do something kind in return.
The two girls looked up at the guards. “Please!” they cried in unison.
The two women glanced at each other and sighed. “Well, if you’re so insistent… I suppose it couldn’t hurt to let you try. Though, don’t be disappointed if you can’t help her.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss Guard!” Dorothy exclaimed.
“We’ll cheer her up in no time. She won’t even remember why she was ever sad!”
The guards stepped aside. The girls linked arms, practically barrelling through the front door, Toto trailing alongside them. Glinda’s palace was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside, open hallways lined by grand columns. Pink roses grew along the walls and sunlight streamed through the windows.
Glinda’s handmaidens, one hundred of the most beautiful women in Oz, darted back and forth, some attending to their many duties, others just leisuring about. Glinda herself was nowhere to be found, Dorothy realized as she scanned the crowd of women.
The girls made their way through a series of brightly lit hallways and up to the western wing of the palace until they came to a large door. Glinda’s personal bodyguard, a handsome woman dressed in the same pink coat as the rest of Glinda’s guards stood at the door, though her white skirt was lined with peacock feathers. Dorothy could hear faint cries coming from the inside. Her heart twisted. Whatever could have Aunty Glinda so sad?
“Miss Dorothy! Miss Ozma!” the bodyguard exclaimed as she took notice of the two girls. “What brings you here today?”
“We’re here to see Aunty Glinda,” Dorothy answered.
“Oh, I’m sorry girls, but Lady Glinda has confined herself in her quarters for the day. She’s really not in the condition to be entertaining guests at the moment. Though, I could make you both some tea if you’d like.”
Ozma shook her head, politely declining. “We want to see Aunty Glinda. We’re going to cheer her up!” She held out the bouquet of poppies. “We brought her a present.”
The woman looked between the two girls. Feeling moved by their earnestness, she decided to grant their request. She knocked on the door. The crying ceased, and a muffled, broken voice called, “Go away. I wish to be alone.”
“Lady Glinda, you have visitors,” the bodyguard called back.
“Tell them I wish to…” she trailed off, and then called out, more hopeful, “Who is it?”
“Ozma and Dorothy.”
“And Toto!” Dorothy added. “We wanted to see you, Aunty Glinda!”
The sound of more crying from the other side of the door. “I-I’m sorry girls, but I don’t think today’s…” a sob cut off the rest of her sentence. “I’m afraid I’m a little out of it, at the moment.” More crying. “You-You’re more than welcome to stay, of course, but I positively couldn’t-” another sob. “I just can’t bear to…” the rest of her words devolved into unintelligible cries.
Ozma and Dorothy exchanged worried glances. After a moment, Ozma called, “We wanted to cheer you up, Aunty Glinda!”
More crying. “I can’t be cheered up.”
Ozma seemed to take that as a challenge, more than anything else.
“Do you need anything, Your Goodness?” her bodyguard asked, scrunching her brows in concern.
“Nothing you can give me. Run along, now.”
Ozma looked at her friend and mouthed, Do something!
Dorothy stepped forward, a bit nervous. She had never seen Aunty Glinda like this. It must have been something truly terrible, to have the Good Witch in such a state of panic. Dorothy wasn’t sure exactly what she could do, but she was determined to do something to cheer her second favorite Aunty up.
“Um… do you want Toto to come in? He usually makes me feel better when I’m sad,” Dorothy said.
“No.”
“We brought you poppies, Aunty Glinda,” Ozma tried, holding the poppies up to the door as an offering.
Silence. The door opened a crack, just enough for the poppies to float out of Ozma’s hands and into the room. But before the door could close, Toto ran inside.
“Toto! That’s rude!” Dorothy exclaimed, chasing after him before she could think the better of it, pulling Ozma in along with her.
The Good Witch was curled up in her bed. Her usually doll-like face was puffy and red from crying, and her usually perfect curls were matted. This was a version of Glinda that Dorothy had never seen before, one that looked far more fragile than the impossibly beautiful Good Witch she’d grown to know and love. She barely seemed to notice the girls’ presence, barely seemed to be aware of her surroundings at all.
It took Dorothy a moment to realize that Glinda was clutching a rather peculiar hat. It took her another moment to realize that she had seen that hat before. For that pointed black hat was the very hat worn by the Wicked Witch of the West.
That must be the reason for her unhappiness, Dorothy realized. Why, it all made sense now! She tugged at her friend’s sleeve. “Ozma, do something!”
Ozma turned to her, confused. “Like what?”
“That’s the Wicked Witch’s hat,” Dorothy whispered. “It must have cursed her and made her sad. Use your magic to make it better!”
Ozma blinked. “Oh. Of course.”
Unfortunately, despite her natural talent for sorcery, the little girl didn’t have the slightest idea how to reverse such a curse. She settled for lunging forward, attempting to snatch the hat out of Glinda’s hands. Ozma very nearly succeeded, but Glinda caught on at the last second, grabbing onto the hat and yanking it out of the girl’s hands.
“NO!” Glinda shouted, her eyes wild with mania. “Don’t touch that!”
Ozma stumbled back, surprised to see the usually serene Good Witch in such a state of distress.
“Please,” Glinda cried, clutching the hat close to her chest. “It’s all I have left of her. Don’t take it, too.” She turned to look straight at Dorothy for the last part, brown eyes overflowing with sadness, the kind of grief that couldn’t come from a mere curse.
The Witch? Why would a Good Witch be sad about a Bad Witch, though? Sure, Dorothy didn’t like the idea of anyone being dead, even the witch who kidnapped her and threatened to kill Toto. She still had the occasional nightmare about the whole affair, the witches screamings echoing in her mind just as they echoed through the walls of Kiamo Ko.
“Come on girls, let’s let Lady Glinda rest,” the bodyguard murmured. Both girls startled; they hadn’t noticed her come in through all the commotion.
“No, no, it’s alright.” Glinda shook her head, appearing to have recovered her senses somewhat. “Since you’re already here, I’ll meet you down in the gardens in just a tick tock.”
“Um… we really don’t mean to bother you, Aunty Glinda,” Dorothy said awkwardly. She picked Toto off the ground, clutching the dog close to her chest for comfort.
“What kind of Good Witch would I be if I didn't entertain my guests?” She laughed, though it sounded less musical than normal.
Glinda swung herself out of bed. She waved her hand, turning her nightgown into a sparkly pink ball gown and combing the tangles out of her hair in an instant. Still, the magic didn’t hide the tear stains on her face or the hollow look in her eyes.
“Well, there’s no need to dally! Come along!”
Dorothy took one last look at the pointed hat, sitting on Glinda’s bed the same way it sat atop a puddle of water in Kiamo Ko, before hurrying out.
The Good Witch was something of a celebrity in her own palace, for as soon as she stepped out her corridors, her handmaidens flocked to her, inquiring about her needs and vying for her affections.
“Good afternoon, Your Goodness!”
“I love your dress, Your Goodness.”
“Do you need anything, Lady Glinda?”
“You look as beautiful as ever, Lady Glinda.”
“Here, Your Goodness.” A woman ran up and dabbed a handkerchief at Glinda’s tears. Her efforts earned her a small smile and a kiss on the cheek.
Ozma leaned over, whispering in Dorothy’s ear, “I couldn’t imagine having as many friends as Aunty Glinda.”
Dorothy nodded. She was used to loneliness, growing up on a farm in Kansas without many other children to play with. “I have you, though,” she said, taking Ozma’s hand, “and I’m quite alright with that.”
The party arrived in the gardens, making themselves comfortable at a small tea table beside a patch of rose bushes. Glinda sank into her chair, looking far less regal than usual. Several of her handmaidens rushed forward to fuss over her, but she shooed them all away.
“If someone would be so kind as to fetch us all a bottle of wine,” Glinda ordered.
“Um… Aunty Glinda, we’re too young for wine,” Ozma said, looking over at Dorothy and rolling her eyes in amusement. As lovely as Glinda was, she could be forgetful about these sorts of things, like how she still called Toto ‘Dodo,’ despite Dorothy’s many corrections.
Glinda blinked. “Oh, yes, of course. No matter, more for me, than. Tea for you girls, yes?”
“Thank you, Aunty Glinda,” Dorothy said. She wanted to ask about the hat, to know the reason behind Glinda’s strange mood, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject without being rude.
“Aunty Glinda, I’ve been practicing magic!” Ozma exclaimed excitedly. “I’m going to study sorcery so I can be just like you when I grow up!"
Brown eyes met green, and the Good Witch stated flatly, “You don’t want to be like me, Ozma.”
Ozma tilted her head, confused. “Why not?”
Glinda was saved from answering by her handmaiden returning with a tea tray, as well as a bottle of wine. The woman barely set the tray down before Glinda snatched the bottle, taking a large swig of wine without bothering to pour it in her glass first. Dorothy could only imagine how Aunty Em would have clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Her handmaiden bit her lip nervously, reaching down to gently pet her hair. “Lady Glinda, perhaps you should-”
“I’m quite alright, thank you very much. Go. Enjoy the sunshine.” Glinda dismissed the woman with a wave of her hand. She took another large sip of wine before turning her attention back to Dorothy and Ozma, regarding the girls curiously. The girls, in turn, regarded the Good Witch in utter confusion. Finally, Glinda simply stated, “You two are quite the duo, aren’t you?”
Dorothy nodded slowly, trying to figure out where exactly Glinda was going. “Ozma’s my bestest friend in the whole world! Well, Oz and Kansas, so I guess the whole worlds.”
A sob nearly escaped the Good Witch, but she covered it up with another sip of wine. And then the sip turned into nearly downing the whole bottle. “Do you think you’ll be friends forever?”
“Of course! We’re gonna grow up and go to Shiz just like you did, Aunty Glinda!” Ozma exclaimed. She poured herself and Dorothy a cup of tea.
Glinda put a hand over her mouth, clearly trying to stop anymore cries from slipping out. Her brown eyes were staring past the girls, into a past that only she herself could see. “Oh.”
“I’m already practicing,” Ozma continued. She held out her hand and summoned another perfectly red poppy flower. “See! One day I’ll be as good of a witch as you are!”
Dorothy smiled. She loved the magic in Oz, and she loved watching Ozma perform it. Ozma glowed with pride, looking up at Glinda in the hopes of seeing a smile on the Good Witch’s face. Instead, she was deathly pale, looking at the poppy with the same empty stare in which she regarded the hat.
“My Elphie loved poppies,” Glinda whispered. She then broke down crying, burying her face in her hands.
Ozma and Dorothy looked at each other in alarm. Several of Glinda’s handmaidens rushed forward, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances into her ear.
“Who’s Elphie?” Dorothy asked.
Glinda only sobbed.
“Is she here?” Ozma asked. She only knew a few of Glinda’s handmaidens by name, and Elphie wasn’t one of them.
Glinda shook her head, still not meeting either girls’ gaze.
“Is she…” Dorothy trailed off, scared that saying it would only serve to upset her Aunty Glinda more.
“I need to lie down.” Glinda shot up. She would have collapsed immediately if not for the gaggle of women already in her vicinity that held her upright. “I’m sorry to cut this visit short, girls, but I simply can’t…” her words were broken up by another fit of sobs.
Her bodyguard stepped forward, scooping the Good Witch up bridal-style. “Off to bed with you.”
Glinda gripped the lapels of her coat. “Stay with me?”
“You’re drunk, sweethe-”
Glinda tensed in her arms. “I told you not to call me sweet.”
“My apologies, Lady Glinda.”
Glinda only cried as she was carried off.
Dorothy and Ozma watched the whole scene unfold, frozen at their tea table. Neither girl knew what to say, or how to help their beloved Aunty Glinda.