Disclaimer: I love Wicked dearly, but I don't own any aspect of it, book or musical. And of course, no money is being made.
Spoilers: None, unless you have no idea what Wicked is about, in which case I suggest you go read the book and/or listen to the soundtrack.
This has been sitting on my disk since the beginning of this year, half unfinished. I'd challenged myself to write something that was not full of angst, I think during a time I was sick with a nasty cold. I dragged this up the other day and started to finish it - here's the outcome.
Set after Dr. Dillamond's death and before the arrival of Nanny and Nessarose.
"Glinda, who would no longer go to see Madame Morrible on her own, nodded and accepted the demotion. It was Elphaba who came up with a solution, mainly to salvage some shred of Glinda's dignity.
-Wicked, the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
"Miss Glinda, may I be so selfish as to steal a moment of your time?"
The weather was warm and humid, with only a small, pitiful breeze to try and lighten and cool the air. The many layers, bustles, and frills of Glinda's wardrobe were plentiful and damp, suffocating her and weighing her down. Combined with the overly saccharine voice at her left, it seemed to make for an unbearably sickening, sticky, and uncomfortable mess – something that Glinda would not tolerate. A disgusted shiver ran down her spine in spite of herself.
She was on her way back to her shared dorm from a particularly gruesome sorcery class, after which she would attend two lectures – having to take more meticulous notes than usual in Life Sciences, for Elphaba was sick. It was the first time she had been sick, or intentionally skipped classes at any rate, in a year and a half. Glinda sorely hoped it would be the last. Elphie would not move, would not talk, would not respond to her, however good her intentions were. The only exception came when Glinda had checked on her a last time before leaving for classes: she'd made some attempt at a rather unintelligible retort to Glinda's well-meaning antics. A somewhat annoyed and hurt Glinda had got the gist and left.
Though she did suppose that when one had a burned bright-red forehead and a somewhat less irritated face from cold sweat that had to be constantly wiped away, one was entitled to a little self-pity.
She sighed.
"If you please, Madame Head, my roomie is not very well, and I should like to get back to her as quickly as possible."
"No dear, not at all," Madame Morrible intoned, her ever-unctuous tones sliding over Glinda. She shuddered in revulsion, hoping to break away as soon as possible. "I merely wished to inquire whether you had any social engagements for tea. Surely Miss Elphaba is capable of attending to herself for a half hour?"
That fishlike smile. Unblinking eyes stared beadily at her.
"No."
"Why not?"
Glinda's voice held a note of desperation. She had returned to find Elphaba sitting up in her rickety bed, hunched over and reading by the light from the window next to her bed. The angry red of her forehead she had tried so hard to hide from Glinda earlier that morning had subsided somewhat, due to, Glinda suspected, liberal amounts of the oil Elphaba kept by her bedside. Her condition was much better than Glinda had hoped – in any case, her retorts were coming back quicker.
Elphaba didn't look up. "You got yourself the invitation to tea with Horrible Morrible, you can go yourself."
"I can't go alone!" Glinda wailed.
Elphaba finally met her gaze calmly. "Why ever not?"
She's too clever for me," Glinda said. "She twists her words around and makes me say things I don't mean to." Her blue eyes implored.
Elphaba's resolve did not break. "Then become clever enough to outtalk her or evasive enough to escape her questions by tea this afternoon." She returned to her text. "As the invitation was not extended to me, I can only assume whatever it is she wants doesn't concern me."
Glinda watched her helplessly. "You're both clever enough to outtalk her and dodge her questions," she accused.
"Well, you've certainly been stuck with me longer than you would have liked – maybe I've rubbed off on you. In which case our dear Madame Head would have to remove one of us from this room before one of us killed the other," she added absently.
Glinda only sighed, finally sinking into a chair. "Since we only seem to have this problem when you're being this insufferably obstinate, I doubt it holds enough significance to matter to her." She sent a weary glare in her roomie's general direction.
Elphaba's eyes glanced up briefly, an eyebrow raised. "I think you'll be alright." And then she was absorbed in her texts again.
Silence. Glinda rolled her eyes, slightly irritated.
A half hour later, Glinda left for her classes.
Two and a quarter hours after that, Glinda made her was determinedly to Crage Hall's main offices.
Three quarter hours after that, she silently crept back into her dormitory. She quietly closed the door behind her, dropped onto her bed and hugged her knees to her chest, burying her miserable face away from her roomie's curious black eyes peeking at her blonde head over the top of her book.
"So," Elphaba began conversationally after a few minutes of continued staring and silence. "The tea tasted that bad?"
Glinda's heavy sigh was the only acknowledgement.
"I would make a dry comment about the nasty turn of weather," she went on, nodding to the wet rain streaking down the window, "but seeing how I'm the only one in the room who would appreciate the wit, I won't."
Her blonde head rose to stare blankly at Elphaba. Inwardly, Elphaba sighed at this small victory. Then she raised an eyebrow again and stared back.
Glinda was the first to admit defeat. She broke their stare-down and sighed yet again. "We'll both be moved to the Pink Dormitory in a week, seeing as how we have no capable minder."
Elphaba was not surprised by this, and had in fact been expecting it since Ama Clutch's incapacitation. Glinda, who would not discuss or acknowledge her Ama's malady, clearly had not been expecting it, and was very distressed over this news.
"And you prefer even me to the Pink Dormitory? Who would have thought that Glinda the Pink would voluntarily choose green over pink," Elphaba jibed dryly.
Glinda was silent for a while, before rolling over and muttering something about green not being too bad a color. Elphaba blinked – for a moment, she was tempted to ask what in Oz's name Glinda was talking about. Soon, however, her soft snoring could be heard, and Elphaba was fighting a different urge to whack her with the nearest pillow. She shook it off, annoyed with herself for slowly finding the girl endearing, annoyed with herself for being annoyed with this endearing girl. She figured she wasn't going to get much else done today, so she put up her books.
Impulsively, her long green fingers drew out a clean white sheet of paper. She stared at it for a moment, debating with herself, but soon began to write.
The letter had been stamped, sealed, addressed, and sent the previous day. Being poor university girls, it was the only thing that went out. Elphaba had returned to her classes, and Glinda was relieved. Elphaba did carry a little bit of what she thought might be concern for her roomie – she seemed extremely tired and out of spirits. She took into consideration their impending move, and decided it was only slight depression. After all, that room had been theirs – for a year, it had been their home. It was always hard to let go of things and people and especially homes. Of course, Glinda, who had never been away from the Pertha Hills before she was seventeen, would have a much harder time of it all than Elphaba, who had moved all over the Quadling Lands as a child. Things changed. People lived and got used to it.
Misses Milla, Pfanne, and Shenshen had seen what she had not, however; at their urging, Glinda had left classes halfway through and gone home. It was evident to them at least that she was sick – probably with whatever Miss Elphaba had in the first place! They shook their heads collectively at Miss Elphaba's lack of foresight.
So it was that when Elphaba stopped by at midday to drop of her morning books and collect a few things she'd forgotten, she found Glinda shivering and sweating while she slept in her bed. She frowned, put down her books, and scrounged up a few more spare blankets, almost annoyed, hoping it wouldn't come to using her own. She'd just put a few more moth-eaten quilts over her roomie when a few successive knocks at the door announced someone's arrival. Hoping it wasn't Madame Morrible, Elphaba went to open the door.
As it turned out, it wasn't Madame Morrible, but, she decided as she looked at the faces staring at her, it wasn't much better.
"Dear Miss Elphaba, we're so glad to see you feeling better," Miss Pfanne said with too large a smile. It was obvious she couldn't care less.
Elphaba's face registered vague surprise as she said so. Instantly, the smiles on Misses Milla, Pfanne, and Shenshen's faces were lost. Elphaba, to tell the truth, was glad of it.
"Did you come with a purpose, or merely to annoy me? If it's the latter, Misses Milla, Pfanne, and Shenshen, I must confess I feel quite highly looked upon."
"We have come to see Miss Glinda," glared Milla. "She was quite ill this morning."
Elphaba turned an indifferent gaze on her. "Alright, I stand accused, Glinda's asleep, you feel better – now will you go?" She offered them a wider view of their little room. The small blonde figure could be seen sleeping beyond, laying in the midst of disarray. "Of course, you rather like one sided conversations, so perhaps I'm wrong when I say I'm confident you'll be disappointed when she doesn't respond to your blather? Please, be my guest." She offered them a small, mocking bow.
Shenshen sniffed, and put up her chin a little more. "We've heard about your impending move to the common dormitories -- " she wrinkled her nose. "It is utterly tragic. We had thought it couldn't be worse for her." Misses Pfanne and Milla nodded in sympathy.
Elphaba closed her eyes for a moment in silent, pleading impatience.
"Fine," Pfanne sniffed, much in the same way Shenshen had. "Your subtlety, Miss Elphaba, requires practice."
"There was no subtlety intended," Elphaba assured her.
When they finally left, Glinda had gained a small box of sweets on her bedside table. She wasn't shivering anymore, Elphaba noticed.
Elphaba had truly expected whatever it was Glinda had to be much better the next day, even if it wasn't completely gone. That was, after all, the way it had passed with her. If anything, though, it was worse. Glinda was still shivering when Elphaba spared her a glance in the morning – she hadn't moved or responded to Elphaba, but she had sweated through her extra blankets. Elphaba cursed and drew back her hand quickly, before quickly taking off the wet ones and giving Glinda her own. Somebody will obviously be doing laundry tonight, she thought.
She filled a glass with water from the lavatory down the hall with odd looks from the girls heading to breakfast. She ignored them. When she got back to the room, it took heavy shaking to rouse Glinda, and even then, she was only half awake. With a little bit of Glinda's effort, Elphaba managed to get her to drink most of the water in the glass. Even so, she was only awake enough to insist rather dramatically (or delusionally? wondered Elphaba) that she would be fine.
"Dammit, Glinda," Elphie hissed. "This isn't the time for you to play the worldly martyr. Do I need to get a doctor in here?"
Fairly lucid, Glinda replied, "Elphie, I'll be fine. If I'm not out and about at lunch, save me some and feel free to bring the cavalry." She then proceeded to snuggle back into her dampening sheets and fall asleep.
Elphaba stared at her; five minutes later, she left against her better judgment.
It seemed to her that her better judgment had failed her when she arrived at lunch; for there was Glinda amidst her perfect blonde curls and throng of admirers. Surprisingly, she had guarded her a seat against those flutting about her expressing their concern. Not showing her surprise, Elphaba took a seat next to her.
"Not up to taking it outside on this lovely day?" she asked, nodding to the window. Running a critical eye over her roomie, Elphaba noticed she was dressed in heavier clothes than the season merited. She was rewarded only with a hesitant, perhaps purposely ambiguous smile.
"No cavalry?"
Elphaba chuckled a bit and let it go. Glinda's smile became relieved. It seemed Elphaba was not in the mood to tease, for which she was also grateful.
"You didn't happen to check the post, did you? While you were 'out and about'?" Elphaba asked offhandedly, reaching for olive and avocado on miztael rye.
"No. Are you expecting something?" Glinda asked while eyeing the selection herself, unable to keep the curiosity from her tone.
"Yes."
Glinda wisely didn't push it any further, and chose a bowl of hearty chicken soup for herself before following Elphaba.
"Stop staring. It's unnerving."
"Ah – and that's the last thing one wants whilst packing," Elphaba conceded, nodding seriously. If Glinda heard the underlying mocking tone, she didn't acknowledge it. At least, she didn't turn from her task.
Elphaba was sitting on top of her narrow bed, her legs folded underneath one of her drab skirts, her back ramrod straight, her attention avidly focused on the bustling and nearly frantic Glinda.
"You could start your own packing, you know, if you're that desperate for something to do."
Elphie leaned forward and rested her bony elbows on her knees and her sharp chin on her interlaced green fingers. "Well," she began, "consider the estimate ratio of your belongings as opposed to mine. One could multiply my things my six and they would still be overcome by your own in terms of both mass and number. If the same ratio holds true to how many days it will take to pack up, I should need less than a day." She continued to stare, an almost amused expression on her face.
"For your sake, you'd best hope it holds true," Glinda warned.
"If not, ah, well – that's the way life goes. Perhaps in the next life I'm meant to be able to pick up and disappear in thirty seconds? In any case, I believe Madame Morrible and I have already established that social status doesn't matter to me. She can demote me to the Puce Dormitory, so long as it has a roof."
Glinda searched for criticism of herself in Elphaba's speech, but was unable to tell if it was there or not. Frankly, she was unable to tell if Elphaba had any feelings that they were being separated. She had to admit, she had given the green girl just cause to want to be far away from her, yet, she seemed to tolerate her, even like her; and Glinda knew that unlike Pfanne and Shenshen, Elphaba wasn't afraid to let her know exactly how she felt.
Instead, she settled for saying, "You, Miss Elphaba, are strange indeed." And she felt herself not minding it, for once.
"Thank you, Miss Glinda," came Elphaba's wry response.
Somewhere in the past few weeks, the formalities had lost their coldness.
Glinda sighed. "I really would rather we didn't have to leave."
Elphaba didn't express similar sentiments, which was not lost on Glinda. But then, when had Elphaba ever expressed sentiments? "What, out of curiosity, would you do if we didn't have to leave?"
"Stop packing, for one thing." She glared at the closet full of remaining items. "What about you?"
Elphaba shrugged. "I suppose I would have to stop being amused while you pack."
Glinda sighed in exasperation, half amused herself. "Anything else?"
"Probably I'd try to make up the room next door for our new minder." Elphaba had long since stopped trying to get Glinda to acknowledge Ama Clutch's illness, or the repercussions thereof. "While you unpacked your lovely mess, of course."
Glinda didn't rise to the bait, having had the past six months of bordering-friendship to get used to it. "And who is our new minder?" she asked, falling into the game.
She heard movement behind her – perhaps Elphaba lying down – before she got a response. "My old Nanny, I suppose."
Suddenly Glinda spun to face her. "Elphaba, that's not half a bad idea!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Though I do suppose it's a bit late to be having ideas. I hadn't even known you'd had a nanny."
"You never asked me," Elphaba softly replied.
"I didn't think it mattered," said Glinda honestly. She visibly gave up on packing and lay down on her own bed. "I don't suppose it's too late to ask Madame Morrible for an extended amount of time to write your Nanny?" she joked half-seriously.
"I already have," Elphaba said calmly.
"Elphaba!" Glinda cried again, half in surprise, half in exasperation. "What? When? And why didn't you tell me, your own roomie?"
"Oh, stop sounding so betrayed. I didn't tell you because it obviously means a lot more to you than me to stay out of the common dormitories, and I didn't wanted to get your hopes up to have Nanny say she couldn't, or wouldn't, do it. You already know the what, and I'll not repeat myself, so as not become redundant. As for when: I wrote her six days ago, and got her response today." She sounded completely emotionless to Glinda's ears. Glinda was starting to guess that this was due to insecurity, as no one could remain emotionless when it came to something like this, as far as she was concerned.
"I take it she said she could do it, else you wouldn't be mentioning it to me."
"Unless I decided that I really didn't like you, suddenly."
Glinda grinned – an action looked down upon by society; one didn't grin, one smiled. "Very suddenly. And I'm not recalling anything I might have done to make you suddenly hate me."
"Dear Glinda, how arrogant of you to assume that who I like and do not like depends solely on their actions. Am I not capable of not liking something of my own free will?"
"Aren't we all?" Glinda countered. "However, I find that whenever I choose to like or detest someone voluntarily, it's generally because of their actions. Anyway, you're avoiding my question. What did Nanny say?"
"She'll come, depending on what Madame Morrible says. And how have you chosen to feel about me, Miss Glinda? Have you chosen to like me or detest me?" Elphie's head rose off her pillow, and her black eyes blinked at Glinda.
"Dare I call you 'friend', Miss Elphie?" Her blue eyes blinked right back.
"Well, if we're to be roomies for two more years, it would be better if they didn't drag on so, as this year has. I think the real question is 'Dare I call you friend, Miss Glinda?'"
The fragile balance was broken when Glinda said, "I think you might."
They had decided to approach Madame Morrible after their respective morning classes. Once they had both returned to their room, still in the midst of chaos even though Glinda had stopped sorting through her mess of belongings, they set off together.
There is a sort of bravery required to stand up to one's elders or superiors. It is not the bravery needed to sacrifice one's own life for the needs of others, nor the bordering- maniacal, perhaps suicidal, bravery one possesses when one is jaded in the ways of the world. But two young women in Shiz University had no need of such bravery. For the moment, their own planned actions seemed quite brave enough to them. For the future, neither could say.
Shiz had brought several new experiences to a sheltered Glinda, from associating with classes lower than her own, to thinking for herself, to seeing the general and total unrest of the world. She seemed to be a new person. From her previous inactive, she became reactive, growing gradually towards proactive. Those who could not see it were blind, for she could see it herself. Though she was still in a state in which she was unwilling to admit it, she thought she liked it. And she knew part of her new existence was the fault of her restless companion at her side.
Elphaba had changed as well. Not as drastically as she; the larger part of her was still undeniably Elphaba, and Glinda doubted that that could ever change. She was still passion-driven; it was quiet, but fierce, and Glinda wondered how she'd ever thought that Elphaba was all smooth indifference. Currents of compassion still ran steadily under this front, and it occurred to her for the first time that passion was part of compassion. The changes in Elphaba showed only in the smallest ways about her: in the way she was less harsh when she spoke, how those dark eyes of hers gave slightly more of her emotion away, how she was more tolerant, if not more patient. Small things that had softened only a hair's worth of a fraction, to be sure.
"Are there any other things I should know about you before I embarrass myself, Elphie?" Glinda asked her lightly as they walked.
Elphaba glanced at her. "My mother died in childbirth, my father is currently on a mission trip to save the souls of Oz, my brother is with him, and my sister is with Nanny."
Glinda felt only surprise at finding out Elphaba had siblings. "I'd always pictured you as an only child."
Elphaba quirked her lips up in a grim smile. "Firstborn, but not only. My parents were determined to get it right after me, after their initial fear of more green children."
Glinda almost asked if they did, but stopped herself right before she spoke.
Elphaba continued on, "I have to warn you, though: If Nanny's coming, it's not likely she'll want to leave behind Nessa, which means she'll be coming to Shiz a year early."
Unfazed, Glinda looked over at her. "Is that bad?"
"She'll probably be rooming with us, or with Nanny next door. Nessa's sweet and devout. Anyone would like her."
Glinda detected what might have been a strain of jealousy under her affection, but said nothing about it. She only smiled her acceptance.
The rest of the walk was passed in fairly comfortable silence. As classes were out until the afternoon, students were milling about with no real purpose in mind. Luckily Elphaba and Glinda did not have to stray too far from the girls' campus; the girls were already accustomed to Elphaba's complexion, though they were still curious. The boys, aside from the obvious exceptions, would have been an entirely different matter, or so Glinda thought. They were able to avoid stares of shock, at least. Stares of curiosity they ignored.
When they reached their destination, they stopped together before either knocked. Glinda linked her arm through Elphie's, and surprisingly, Elphie complied and gave it a slight squeeze before knocking on Madame Morrible's door. So linked, they were prepared for the expected. Madame Morrible's oozing insinuations could only cause slight irritation, questions about class and society would not faze them. When it would inevitably be pointed out how mismatched they were in the first place, they would point out the obvious.
The door opened, and they were ready.
As for the end's ambiguity, we know what happens afterward. :) Feedback is always appreciated - please leave a note!