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willemijn-verkaik:

“….Run along peasant.”

herroyaldarkness:

Regina wished she could say being in this castle was a comfort to her, but it was, if anything, cold and depressing. A dark and lonesome fortress that cut across the horizon with a jagged and jarring visage. Nothing like her own palace, of course, but better than a hovel, she conceded to herself. It was almost as the witch whose company she was now keeping meant to be overly dramatic and imposing, though. Regina had embraced her ‘evil’ title at times, but never going so far as to…mirror the preconceived notions of her in her decorating.

That wasn’t all, either. During their journey here, they had met with a very angry band of trees occupying an orchard. Trees. Trees who spoke and moved, and insulted. Trees who plucked the apples from their very branches to hurl at the two women as they passed. It was insulting enough to be assaulted as a guest in someone else’s realm, but - apples? It was horrifying. She had heard of using an apple as a weapon, but this was really taking it just a bit too far.

That was all behind them now, though. She walked slowly, feeling rather starkly out of place against this backdrop in her more modern attire. She’d not wanted to waste a gown on this event, especially not knowing their plans; and her own plans. 

Throwing a sidelong glance to the green woman, Regina pursed her lips and clasped her hands before herself. “Well dear, we’ve finally managed to arrive.” She noted needlessly, her gaze shifting to lite upon various items within the chamber they stood in. Her nose crinkled in faint disgust, before she finally looked back to Elphaba and raised both eyebrows, expecting to be shown the way to this oh-so-insidious Wizard of hers.

-Elphaba swept across the gloomy room in her usual manner, her cape billowing behind her in its phantom-like trail, perhaps even more dramatically so, for being comfortable in her own vicinity and a bit on edge with the new unfoldings made her body movements twice as cutting. From the corner of her leer she only dully noted that Regina seemed less than ecstatic about being there; hanging about, a considerable amount of distance away, hesitant to walk in …  and she cared even less.  Concentrating on the task at hand, Elphaba made her way to her large crystal ball, resting aside her velvet chair, adjacent to an open, enormous window … probably the only source of light in this particular room. She stared into it; ran her palms above it in perfect, geometric motions, not waiting for Regina to question nor acknowledging the fact that she may have questions.  She began muttering a nonverbal incantation in her head.  She willed the artifact to speak, to reveal — to compensate.  The smoke inside the ball was hazy and slithered about in a lazy manner; it turned gray, then darkened, and finally, slowly but surely, slid into green, traveling in more precise circles about its circumference.  Elphaba watched.

She had remembered their travels here; how they had been less than ideal, and especially how Regina had reacted to the apple trees …  it had stuck out to the Witch, who had first slowed her walking pace to compensate for Regina’s half-startled, half-irritated reaction to the ruffian plants — she had stood, unsure, and Elphaba had finally stopped and looked back, revered tall, her beady, exotic eyes narrowed, watching Regina over the crow of her nose.  “Well,” she had commanded, in a tone less than disgusted in favor of curious, “come on. They’re only trees.”  But Regina hadn’t seemed inspired to move, and the trees had commented again on their rudeness and unexpected drop in, causing Elphaba to sigh dramatically through her nose and throw a harmless, temporary spell at them, paralyzing them so they could walk through undisturbed.

The rest of the walk had been silent; Elphaba had trekked a few paces ahead, but Regina said nothing more about the trees, and Elphaba hadn’t questioned.  Pah, she had thought.  And you are supposed to come from a fantasy land … 

She stared. The crystal ball was forming a shape now; a silhouette … a woman.  A … short haired … young woman … dressed in clothing similar to the style Regina was wearing … she must not have been from Oz, either, but Regina’s world …  she was fair, and black-haired and … dare she say, cutesy.  Elphaba raised a brow, but the crystal ball always showed relevance, and this must be relevant … if not to her, to someone in the room … to someone related to her, related to the task at hand … she lifted her head to look at Regina, and spoke, at last-

Make yourself at home. 

aprinceforanyoccasion:

It does seem that my natural charm is rather ineffective.

Your natural charm, is that what you said.