Chapter Text
To say that hurt was amongst the myriad of emotions that Elphaba was experiencing was... too much to contemplate in that particular moment.
All she could think about was going up.
Fear? Yes, the fear coursing through her was certainly justified, especially if one took note of the small army of angry, flying monkeys hurling themselves at the windows of the Emerald Palace in an attempt to—
In an attempt to kill her?
Further elevating that fear was the cold, mechanical voice echoing through the long and winding corridors of the palace. Audible even amongst the screeching and crashing of the monkeys was the voice of the Wizard of Oz, ordering his guards to stop the fugitive—to stop Elphaba—to bring her back to him.
There was also rage seething through her, which was probably what gave her the strength to somehow man the dusty old hot air balloon herself while also kicking at the hands of the guards trying to clamber their way into the basket.
She let the rage keep fueling her. Rage at the Wizard of Oz and Madame Morrible, who had not only tricked her into mutilating and inflicting tremendous pain on a group of innocent Animals, but had then tried to justify this and coerce her into somehow thinking it was all for the better.
And maybe she was angry at herself, too. For allowing herself to indulge in the idiotic, juvenile fantasy that maybe she really was special. Maybe there really were people out there in the world who saw her as something other than...
Green.
But it didn't matter what she felt. None of it could make the balloon rise any faster, and soon the roof was closing in over her, the balloon bursting into flame with the collision.
Elphaba leapt.
Don’t look back.
What would she see, were she to look back? The guards, climbing to catch her? The monkeys, blinded by pain and fear? The Wizard's look of glee and Morrible's cold, sharp stare? Glinda's—
No.
She couldn't look back now.
Instead, Elphaba rushed into the dusty attic, sealing the door with a twisted old broom.
She needed to pull herself together. She needed to get out. To get far, far away from this place. She clambered up the creaky staircase, coming up to a wide landing and, suddenly, all of the Emerald City stood before her.
The city glimmered as the setting sun caught on the windows of tall towers, and lights came to life among all the houses dotting the streets. Just a short time ago, she had roamed those streets, feeling certain that she would one day call them home. For a moment, she had thought she'd found a place that didn't judge her for the colour of her skin. A place that accepted her—no, celebrated her—for who she was.
And Glinda had been by her side.
Elphaba could remember how it had felt to have Glinda's hand held in her own as they'd stepped off the train. The buzz of joy she'd felt to have Glinda by her side as they wandered the city together. She could remember the gentle words of encouragement Glinda had given her as they stood at the Wizard's doorway. The way she knew exactly what Elphaba needed to hear in the moment and gave it to her without question.
And she could remember the looks of horror and fear on Glinda's face after Elphaba had cast the spell and they had watched Chistery transform before their eyes.
It was no wonder Glinda hadn't followed her out.
Why would she want to follow a monster who could create monsters?
But, whether it was justified or not, Elphaba couldn't deny that it hurt. Over the span of less than a year, Glinda had become one of the people she cared about most in the world. The person she trusted the most. The person that she—
And to know now that all that was lost to her? That Glinda was lost to her?
It hurt.
And it flowed through her just as much as the anger and the fear.
The shouts of the guards on the levels below brought her back to the present. How long before they got to her? Why in Oz had she gotten herself so high up when she so desperately needed to get back down? She could hear the monkeys screeching in the distance, and surely they would find her up here soon enough, and maybe they would throw her off the balcony. If only she could fly like them. Then she could—
The Grimmerie seemed to almost buzz from within the satchel on her hip. Elphaba pulled it out as she re-entered the attic, and the moment she placed it atop the stool, the pages flipped themselves open to what she realised might be her only way out.
The world already saw her as a monster. Why not add a pair of wings for them all to gawk at?
Without giving herself time to think about it, Elphaba began to recite the incantation. Though she couldn't understand the words, she spoke the language as easily as if she'd spoken it her whole life, and it all rolled off her tongue more hurriedly than it had in the throne room.
The magic from the Grimmerie rose into the air, and Elphaba tried to catch it with her own. Direct it to where she needed it. She felt it ripple through her, powerful and urgent, and she closed her eyes and waited for blinding pain to overtake her.
She waited.
And waited.
Too long.
“Perhaps you are not as powerful as we thought.”
Elphaba started from where she sat perched before the Grimmerie. She hadn't noticed the hush that had befallen the palace. The beat and calling of the guards had stopped, as had the screeching of the monkeys.
“Let me make this quite simple for you, dearie.” Morrible's voice had lost the sugary warmth Elphaba had grown used to, replaced with a steely, calculating tone that made Elphaba's spine stiffen. “You will put a stop to all of this running away nonsense and come back down immediately.”
Elphaba took a moment to steady herself, taking a breath and trying to stop the tremors that were racking through her body. She took one last look out the window, taking in the glow of the sky as the sun sank below the horizon. It was all pink.
She turned to face Morrible, injecting more strength into her voice than she truly felt.
“There is nothing you could do that would make me—”
Elphaba found herself face to face with not only Morrible, but also—
“Glinda?”
Glinda looked frightened beyond comprehension. Her eyes were wet and wide with terror, and Elpbaba could tell by the firm press of her lips and her shaky breath that she was barely holding back a sob. She looked so small. So fragile. So scared, with Morrible's talon-like hand holding her firmly in place beside her.
“I think you are wrong about that, Miss Elphaba.” A knowing and sinister smile curled across Morrible's lips. “I think there is exactly one thing that could bring you down.” She tightened her grip on Glinda's arm, making her flinch.
It was then that Elphaba noticed the small chain around Glinda's wrist.
Elphaba had spent enough time around magic to recognise it when she saw it. Or maybe she could feel it. There was magic radiating from the chain, and it wasn't a magic Elphaba had learned at Shiz.
Morrible's eyes tracked Elphaba's gaze, landing on the chain.
“You could try to leave—throw yourself off this balcony, or simply pass through the gates. It makes no difference. But Miss Glinda?” Morrible's smile grew. “She will not leave this palace until I allow her to.”
Morrible lowered her voice to a menacing whisper, every syllable somehow laced with threat.
“And if you leave, Miss Elphaba? I promise you, she will never leave it alive.”
Elphaba had spent the last year at Shiz learning to control her magic. All her life, it had erupted from her in volatile bursts of power, shattering and destroying everything in its path.
She wondered if she should let it out now.
Because the threat on Glinda's life awoke something almost primal in her, she could feel the power building in her chest, moving through her body, seeking release. If she let it out, she might strike Morrible down. If she were careful, she might be able to free Glinda from her grasp and...and...
And what?
They couldn't leave. Whatever spell Morrible had cast on the chain, Elphaba could feel it. Could feel its power.
She hadn't been bluffing
Elphaba couldn't take Glinda away.
And if she couldn't take Glinda with her, then she couldn't leave. Not when she was trembling and afraid, and not when she was the one who had brought her into this mess.
But that knowledge didn't stop the magic from building within her. Swirling in her fingers andbegging for release. She'd never really mastered control, and certainly not when she was panicked like this. If she let herself think, if she could calm herself, then maybe it might stop. If only she could—
She looked to Glinda.
In their time together, Glinda had learned to read Elphaba like a book, always knowing what she needed before Elphaba knew it herself. She would drag her away to the cafeteria when Elphaba grew frustrated with her studies, distract her with idle chatter when everything felt too heavy, or remind Elphaba that she was worth so much more than the cruel words her father wrote to her.
And, despite being terrified, she could still sense what Elphaba needed now.
Glinda took in a deep, shuddering breath, raising her brows as she did, showing Elphaba what she needed to do.
Breathe.
So Elphaba did.
She inhaled deeply, the musty smell of the attic filling her senses. She matched her breaths with Glinda's, their gaze locked, chests rising and falling in unison.
In and out.
Elphaba felt the power simmer down, replaced by a hollowing sense of defeat.
Morrible seemed to sense Elphaba's submission.
“A very wise decision, Miss Elphaba.” Her voice dripped with satisfaction as she beckoned to the guards below, awaiting her command. “Escort them to the prepared chamber.”
“You won't mind sharing for a time, I'm sure. Certainly, you've grown used to it by now!” Morrible gave Glinda's arm a final squeeze before she released her, pushing her towards Elphaba, who reached for her the moment she was in range, pulling her close to her side. “His Ozness only had one room prepared, you see.”
“What a blessing for all of us that you tagged along, Miss Galinda.” Morrible laughed humourlessly as she bent down to pick up the Grimmerie. “Who knows where Miss Elphaba would be by now if we didn't have you!”
Elphaba felt Glinda slacken next to her and wound an arm around her waist to help support her as they followed the guards down the stairs and out of the attic.
As they passed through the doors, Elphaba failed to notice the twisted old broom she had used to barricade the door, now neatly propped up against the wall and buzzing with an ancient magic.
The door closed behind them with a heavy thud and a sharp click of the lock, both of the sounds echoing through the room.
It was easily three times bigger than their room at Shiz. Green oozed off every surface, the walls lined with the same emerald blocks of the throne room, light bouncing off them. The marble floor was a deep green flecked with gold, its polished surface gleaming.
It was furnished lavishly. A four-post bed against the furthest wall, decorated with an assortment of plush pillows, tall windows on either side letting in the fading light of the day. A desk supplied with pens, parchment and books sat against the wall near an already roaring fireplace.
The vastness of the room did nothing to relieve the feeling of the world closing in around Glinda.
Elphaba, who had remained a solid figure for Glinda to cling to as they had been marched through the palace, slumped against the doorframe, sliding until she hit the cold marble floor.
Glinda thought that Elphaba might cry. Or that she might scream. Either was certainly justified.
But no sound escaped her. Once she hit the ground, she took her hat off and then sat motionless, eyes staring blankly at the glimmering floor as the light of the fire flickered across it.
Glinda remained at her side, unsure what to do. Was there anything she could do? What comfort could she possibly offer Elphaba, knowing she was the root cause of her pain? Why would Elphaba even want her comfort?
So many decisions Glinda had made had led them to this.
Where to begin? Her childish jealousy had sparked Elphaba to promise not to leave her behind, and Glinda had leapt mindlessly onto the train after her, overjoyed at the idea that someone—that Elphaba—had chosen her.
Glinda's cowardice had kept her rooted in place in the throne room, overtaken with fear, while Elphaba had fled. Her delusion that surely—surely—there must have been some explanation. Surely the Wizard of Oz wasn't what Elphaba had accused him of being. That delusion had been shattered when Morrible had harshly grabbed her arm and pulled her across the room.
“Wha—”
“This was meant for your green friend.” Morrible had pulled a dainty-looking chain out of her pocket. Glinda felt the magic contained within it immediately and moved to pull her arm out of Morrible’s grasp, who only tightened her grip in response, using her magic to secure the chain around Glinda’s wrist.
“But you will work just as well. Maybe even better.” Morrible smirked. “I cannot imagine why, but she seems quite devoted to you, Miss Galinda.”
And then Morrible had dragged Glinda up through the palace, the shrieks of the monkeys and the Wizard’s voice echoing through and around the winding halls.
And they had found Elphaba, and she had been doomed to this place.
All because of Glinda.
Glinda wasn’t sure why Elphaba wasn’t confronting her, screaming at her, asking her how she could be so stupid, so selfish, so—
“Glinda?”
Glinda hadn’t noticed Elphaba pulling herself up beside her. She also hadn’t noticed that she was trembling until Elphaba placed her hand on her back, rubbing gently in small circular motions. The last thing Glinda had failed to notice was that she couldn’t breathe.
Every time she tried to take a breath, it caught in her throat, and she could feel that there wasn’t enough air going into her lungs, but she had lost the ability to control it. She gasped, her chest feeling tighter with each passing attempt to get air in. “Glinda.” There was just a hint of panic in Elphaba’s voice as she moved in front of Glinda, taking both of her hands in her own and holding them to her own chest. “Breathe with me, Glinda.”
Glinda locked her gaze onto Elphaba, brown eyes meeting green. There was a pleading in Elphaba’s eyes, and Glinda forced herself to concentrate on the feeling of Elphaba’s chest rising and falling under her hands. She tried to match her own breaths to it, seeing relief flood into Elphaba’s eyes as her breathing evened out.
They remained in place for a moment, their hands still clasped over Elphaba’s chest, neither dropping their gaze as they continued to breathe together.
“Elphie, you’re trembling.” Glinda pulled her hands out of Elphaba’s, moving them instead to her shoulders, rubbing them up and down Elphaba’s upper arms.
“So are you.”
If it had been another time and another place, Glinda might have chuckled and rolled her eyes at Elphaba, who never wanted anyone else to ever worry about her, so used to being the one to look after others. Never wanting to be looked after herself.
Glinda took Elphaba’s hand again, leading her over to sit on the couch that faced the fire. As Elphaba sat, Glinda grabbed a blanket off the back of it, draping it over Elphaba’s shoulders before sitting herself down next to her. Elphaba immediately moved to share the blanket with Glinda, pulling her closer to her side. Glinda rested her head lightly on Elphaba’s shoulder, the familiarity of it all bringing the smallest bit of comfort.
They let the warmth of the fire wash over them, sitting in silence for a long time. Glinda wanted to say something, wanted to apologise to Elphaba for putting her in this position, for forcing her to—
“I’m so sorry, Glinda.”
Glinda snapped her head up to look at Elphaba, surprised to see silent tears forming in her eyes, gaze fixed on the fire in front of them.
“Elphie, you don’t need to—”
“I do. I’m sorry for leaving you down there while I ran away. I’m sorry for dragging you here in the first place. You should be safe at school, not stuck here with me.” A tear dropped down her cheek. “You should be with your friends, with Fiye—”
“Elphaba.” Glinda’s voice was perhaps a touch sharper than she had intended, but she had to break Elphaba off. Elphaba blinked at her, startled by the interruption.
“You have nothing to apologise for.” Elphaba opened her mouth to protest, but Glinda pressed on. “You didn’t drag me here. I made my own choices. Oz, Elphie, I leapt on that train after you.”
“You—”
“Besides,” Glinda pressed on. “I should be the one apologising to you. I should have followed you out when you ran—if I hadn’t stayed back then Morrible wouldn’t have been able to...” She moved her left wrist, the chain clinking lightly as she did
Elphaba reached out to examine it more closely for the first time. It was a dainty silver thing, loose enough that it slid freely around Glinda’s wrist, tight enough not to slip off. Touching it, Elphaba could feel the magic buzzing from it and knew it was a magic she could neither break nor manipulate.
“Can you feel anything?”
“I can feel the magic,” Glinda answered simply, fingering the chain with her other hand. “But nothing else. It has to be a tethering spell. I read about them. It can only be broken by the person who cast it, and the tethering effects can vary from—”
“She made it pretty clear what would happen if we tried to leave, Glinda.” Elphaba let go of her grip around Glinda's hand, the defeat Glinda knew she was feeling evident in her voice.
Elphaba's gaze drifted back to the fire. “I don't blame you for staying behind. You must have been terrified—”
“Well, sure, but so were you, and it didn't stop you. We saw the same things, learned the same things. You had the common sense to run while I stood around hoping someone would say it was all—”
“I meant you must have been terrified of me,” Elphaba said softly, so softly it took Glinda a moment to register that she had spoken. And when the meaning of the words finally computed in her head, Glinda felt her heart break.
“Elphie, I, —”
“I don't blame you,” Elphaba pressed, and Glinda knew that she meant it. “Look at what I did to Chistery—to all of them. So much pain. I caused so much pain.” Elphaba closed her eyes, as if she could see it all playing out again in the fire before them and couldn't stand to relive it again. “Who wouldn't be afraid of the monster that caused all that pain?”
Glinda had spent enough time with Elphaba to know that her self-worth was essentially non-existent. Twenty years of having strangers gawk at you, flinch away from you would take its toll on anyone. But to be constantly degraded in her own home, by her own father and even her sister at times? The two people who were supposed to love and support her the most? It was soul-destroying.
And so Glinda had made it her mission to prove to Elphaba that she was worth so much more than the rude stares from strangers, and ungrateful way that Nessa ignored her around campus. That she didn't deserve the condescending words her father spoke to her on what was supposed to be the best day of her life.
She had made it her mission to make Elphaba see the goodness that Glinda saw in her.
It wasn't an easy task, but Glinda was nothing if not persistent.
“Elphie,” Glinda spoke softly, reaching a hand up to Elphaba's face, gently turning it to face her. “Elphie, please look at me.”
Elphaba's eyes glistened with tears as she opened them, and Glinda felt tears forming in her own eyes.
“Of course, I was afraid. I still am.” Another tear slipped from Elphaba's eye, and Glinda caught it with her thumb, cupping Elphaba's face in the palm of her hand. “But never of you.”
Elphaba collapsed with a sob, head colliding onto Glinda's shoulder. Glinda wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. She heard Elphaba's sobs, felt every one of them as they wracked her entire body, the tension that had been building since they entered the palace just a few hours ago starting to melt away with each sob.
As Glinda leaned them against the back of the couch, she felt Elphaba’s arms encircle her waist, pulling her closer. Glinda let her eyes drift shut as she tucked her nose into her hair and inhaled the earthy scent that was entirely Elphaba. For the first time that night, Glinda felt some of her fear lift as she relaxed into Elphaba’s embrace.
“You make me feel safe, Elphie. Not afraid.”
Elphaba’s arms tightened around her.
They sat like that for a long time. The moon rose outside, the fire burned on. Nobody disturbed them.
Eventually, Elphaba’s sobs ceased and turned into deep, even breaths, and Glinda opened her eyes to a sleeping Elphaba resting against her shoulder. She felt her heart do something at the sight as she moved to gently lay Elphaba down against the length of the couch. Glinda could feel her own mind growing cloudy as sleep threatened her. Briefly, she considered the idea that maybe one of them should stay awake in case—
In case what?
In case they captured them and took them prisoner?
Glinda almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, she nestled down next to Elphaba, pulling the blanket tightly around them. The room was darker now, the sun having long since set outside, and the fire burned down to embers in the hearth. Glinda glanced at Elphaba, her freckles and gap-tooth barely visible in the fading light, and, for a brief, ridiculous moment, she thought that there was no place she’d rather be before she let sleep overtake her.