Chapter Text
The carriage wheels rattled against the cobblestone path leading to Shiz University, each bump sending a jolt through Elphaba's rigid spine. She sat perfectly still, hands folded in her lap, trying to ignore the way her father leaned away from her, as if her verdant skin might somehow be contagious after all these years.
"Remember why you're here," Frexspar Thropp said, not bothering to look at his eldest daughter. "You are here for Nessarose. Your sole purpose is to care for your sister."
"Yes, Father," Elphaba replied, her voice flat and practiced. She'd heard these words countless times before.
Beside her, Nessarose shifted uncomfortably in her wheelchair. Her delicate features twisted with a mixture of guilt and gratitude – a familiar expression that Elphaba had grown accustomed to over the years. Unlike Elphaba, Nessarose had been blessed with normal skin, though her legs had never worked properly. And unlike Elphaba, Nessarose had always been the recipient of their father's affection.
"I can manage some things on my own," Nessarose offered quietly.
Elphaba gave her sister a small, genuine smile. "I know you can, Nessa. But I'm happy to help." It wasn't entirely a lie. She did love her sister, even if she sometimes resented the role she'd been forced into.
As the carriage approached the grand entrance of Shiz University, Elphaba felt a flutter of something unfamiliar in her chest. Hope, perhaps? Or maybe just the desperate wish that here, finally, things might be different. She quickly suppressed it. Hope was dangerous. Hope led to disappointment.
Don't wish, don't start, she thought to herself. Wishing only wounds the heart.
The carriage came to a halt, and Elphaba was the first to exit, immediately moving to help her sister. The courtyard was bustling with students and their families, trunks and suitcases piled high, tearful goodbyes being exchanged. For a moment, no one noticed them.
And then, as always, they did.
The whispers began, followed by stares, followed by the all-too-familiar pointing. Elphaba squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, her face a mask of indifference. She'd had a lifetime of practice. Her green skin drew the most attention, but her glasses added another layer to her unconventional appearance. The frames had a striking half-figure eight design that some might interpret as resembling an infinity symbol, modern yet vintage, perfectly suited to her bookish and independent demeanor. She adjusted them with practiced ease, ignoring the murmurs that surrounded her like buzzing flies.
"What is that?" someone whispered, not quite quietly enough.
"Is she seasick?" another voice asked.
"She's green!" came the inevitable observation.
Elphaba ignored them all, focusing instead on maneuvering Nessarose's wheelchair through the crowd. Her father had already gone ahead to speak with the headmistress, leaving his daughters to fend for themselves – or rather, leaving Elphaba to fend for both of them.
"Don't let them bother you," Nessarose said softly, reaching back to touch Elphaba's hand.
"They don't," Elphaba lied. She'd become quite good at lying about such things.
As they made their way toward the main hall, the crowd parted – not out of courtesy, but out of a desire to avoid contact with the green girl. Elphaba was used to this too. What she wasn't used to was the sudden commotion that erupted near the entrance.
A carriage far grander than theirs had arrived, and from it emerged what appeared to be a small mountain of luggage. Following the luggage was a woman who seemed to Elphaba like a physical manifestation of everything she was not. Blonde curls bounced in the sunlight like spun gold, framing a heart-shaped face with porcelain skin and delicate features. Her dark brown eyes, deep and expressive, sparkled with confidence as she surveyed her surroundings. A pink dress fluttered in the breeze, perfectly tailored to accentuate her petite yet curvaceous figure, and a laugh like silver bells rang out across the courtyard. Even her movements seemed choreographed, each graceful gesture and tilt of her head calculated for maximum effect.
"That's Galinda Upland," someone nearby whispered reverently. "Of the Upper Uplands."
Elphaba watched as the blonde girl, Galinda, was immediately surrounded by admirers. She was, Elphaba thought, exactly the sort of person who would make her life miserable.
"She's pretty," Nessarose observed.
"She's shallow," Elphaba countered, though she had no basis for this judgment beyond years of experience with pretty, popular girls.
"You don't know that," Nessarose chided gently.
"I know her type," Elphaba said, pushing the wheelchair forward again. "Come on, we need to find Father and Madame Morrible."
They were in the main hall, where students were being assigned to their dormitories. Madame Morrible, the headmistress, was a formidable woman with an elegant bearing and striking features, her elaborate hairstyle and ornate clothing emphasizing her authoritative presence. She was speaking with Frexspar, nodding sympathetically as he explained Nessarose's "special needs."
"Of course, Governor Thropp," Madame Morrible was saying as they approached. "We have made all the necessary arrangements for your daughter. She will have a private suite, naturally, with accommodations for her wheelchair."
"Thank you, Madame," Frexspar said, his voice warm with gratitude – a tone Elphaba had rarely heard directed at herself. "And what of my other daughter?"
Madame Morrible's gaze shifted to Elphaba, and her eyes widened slightly. To her credit, she recovered quickly. "Ah, yes. Miss Elphaba, is it? I wasn't aware... that is, we weren't expecting..."
"Another student?" Elphaba supplied, her voice dry. "Or just one who's green?"
"Elphaba," her father warned.
Madame Morrible cleared her throat. "Well, we seem to have a slight room shortage. All of our double rooms have been assigned, and the only remaining space is..."
At that moment, the blonde girl, Galinda, swept into the hall, followed by her entourage of admirers and what appeared to be several porters struggling with her luggage.
"Madame Morrible!" she called, her voice high and musical. "I've been looking everywhere for you! There seems to be some confusion about my room assignment. I specifically requested a private suite."
Madame Morrible's expression tightened. "Miss Upland, as I explained in my letter, private suites are reserved for students with special circumstances."
"But I am a special circumstance!" Galinda protested. "I'm Galinda Upland. Of the Upper Uplands?"
Elphaba couldn't help the snort of derision that escaped her. Galinda's head whipped around, and for the first time, their eyes met. Galinda's went wide with shock as they took in Elphaba's green skin.
"What in Oz?" Galinda gasped.
"It's rude to stare," Elphaba said flatly.
Galinda's perfect features arranged themselves into a look of disdain. "I wasn't staring. I was... observing."
"Well, observe somewhere else," Elphaba suggested.
"Ladies, please," Madame Morrible interjected. "Miss Upland, as I was explaining to Governor Thropp and his daughters, we have a room shortage. Miss Nessarose will be given a private suite due to her... condition." She gestured vaguely at the wheelchair. "But Miss Elphaba will need to be assigned to a double room."
A look of horror dawned on Galinda's face. "You can't possibly mean..."
"I'm afraid I do," Madame Morrible said, not sounding afraid at all. "Miss Elphaba will be rooming with you, Miss Upland."
The silence that followed was so complete that Elphaba could hear the ticking of the large clock in the corner of the hall. Then:
"No!" Galinda and Elphaba exclaimed in unison.
"I'm supposed to be with my sister," Elphaba protested, at the same time that Galinda cried, "I can't room with... with her!"
"The arrangements are final," Madame Morrible said firmly. "Miss Elphaba, your father has requested that you be allowed to assist your sister as needed, but Nessarose must learn independence. And Miss Upland, I suggest you adjust your attitude. At Shiz University, we value character over appearance."
Elphaba almost laughed at the hypocrisy of that statement, coming from a woman who had clearly been taken aback by her viridian skin. But she held her tongue, knowing that arguing would only make things worse.
Galinda, however, had no such restraint. "This is absurd! My parents made a substantial donation to ensure that I would have suitable accommodations!"
"And you will have suitable accommodations," Madame Morrible said, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You will share a perfectly lovely room with Miss Elphaba. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other students to attend to."
With that, she swept away, leaving Elphaba and Galinda staring at each other in mutual horror.
"This isn't over," Galinda declared, before turning on her heel and storming off, her entourage trailing behind her.
Elphaba turned to her father, who was already focused on Nessarose. "Father, I really should stay with Nessa."
"Madame Morrible has made her decision," Frexspar said dismissively. "You will still care for your sister, but perhaps this arrangement will be for the best. Nessarose needs to develop some independence."
Elphaba bit back a retort. Of course, it was always about what Nessarose needed. Never about what she might need or want.
"Yes, Father," she said instead.
The goodbyes were brief. Frexspar embraced Nessarose warmly, whispering words of encouragement and love. To Elphaba, he merely nodded and said, "Take care of your sister."
And then he was gone, leaving Elphaba standing beside Nessarose's wheelchair, both of them alone in a sea of strangers.
"It will be alright," Nessarose said, reaching for Elphaba's hand. "Maybe your roommate won't be so bad once you get to know her."
Elphaba thought of Galinda's horrified expression and doubted it very much. But for Nessarose's sake, she forced a smile. "Maybe. Let's get you settled in your room first."
***
After helping Nessarose arrange the last of her belongings in her private suite, Elphaba stepped back to survey their work. The room was indeed luxurious compared to the double she would be sharing with Galinda, with ample space for Nessarose's wheelchair to maneuver.
"There," Elphaba said with satisfaction. "Everything's in place."
"Thank you, Elphaba," Nessarose said warmly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
A soft knock at the open door interrupted them. A small Munchkin boy stood in the doorway, his earnest face lighting up when Nessarose turned toward him. Despite his diminutive stature, there was something endearing about his enthusiastic demeanor and expressive features.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice carrying a slight Munchkinland accent. "I'm Boq Woodman. I'm from the eastern district of Munchkinland, not far from Rush Margins. I saw you arrive earlier and thought you might need help finding your way around campus." His eyes remained fixed on Nessarose, barely acknowledging Elphaba's presence.
"How thoughtful," Nessarose replied with a smile. "I'm Nessarose Thropp, and this is my sister, Elphaba."
Boq's gaze flickered briefly to Elphaba, his eyes widening slightly at her emerald complexion before quickly returning to Nessarose. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. The dining hall will be serving dinner soon. May I escort you there?"
Elphaba watched with mild amusement as the Munchkin boy practically bounced on his toes, his eagerness to please Nessarose painfully obvious. "Actually, I need to get settled in my own room," she said. "But I'm sure Nessa would appreciate your company."
"I would, thank you," Nessarose said, her cheeks coloring slightly under Boq's attentive gaze.
As Elphaba left them to their dinner plans, she couldn't help but wonder if Boq's interest in her sister was genuine or merely a novelty that would fade once the excitement of the first day had passed.
***
The room that Elphaba would be sharing with Galinda was exactly as one might expect – divided neatly down the middle, with one side already transformed into a pink paradise. Galinda had wasted no time in claiming her territory, with frilly curtains, plush pillows, and what appeared to be an entire wardrobe of clothing already unpacked and arranged.
Elphaba's side, by contrast, was bare and uninviting. She had few possessions to begin with, and those she did have were practical rather than decorative. She placed her books on the small desk, hung her few dark dresses in the closet, and set her mother's green bottle on the nightstand – the only personal touch in her sparse domain.
Galinda was nowhere to be seen, which was a small mercy. As evening approached, she found herself alone for the first time since their arrival.
She sat on the edge of her bed, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability now that there was no one to witness it. She was tired – not just physically, but in a deeper, more profound way. Tired of being different. Tired of being stared at. Tired of being the responsible one, the caretaker, the oddity.
"Don't wish, don't start," she whispered again, her mantra against hope. "Wishing only wounds the heart."
The door burst open, and Elphaba quickly composed her features into their usual mask of indifference. Galinda swept in, accompanied by two friends – a stylishly dressed young man named Pfannee of Phan Hall and a girl called ShenShen Minkos. They were in the middle of a conversation and barely acknowledged Elphaba's presence.
"...and then he said he'd write to me every day," Galinda was saying, her voice animated. "As if I'd have time to read his letters with all the social events we'll have here!"
Pfannee let out a theatrical gasp, his perfectly manicured hand flying to his chest. "As if you'd have the time! Darling, you'll be the belle of every ball." ShenShen tittered appreciatively beside him, and Elphaba fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she picked up one of her books and pretended to read, though she was acutely aware of every movement and word from the other side of the room.
"Oh, Galinda, your room is divine!" Pfannee exclaimed, his voice rich with enthusiasm. "Though I don't know how you can bear to share it with... well..." He cast a meaningful glance in Elphaba's direction.
"It's only temporary," Galinda said confidently. "My parents are writing to the board of governors. This will all be sorted out soon enough."
"I certainly hope so," ShenShen said. "It's not right, forcing you to room with someone so... unusual."
Elphaba had heard worse, much worse, but somehow the casual cruelty still stung. She kept her eyes fixed on her book, though the words blurred before her.
"Did you hear about the party at the Ozdust Ballroom?" Pfannee asked, changing the subject, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Everyone who's anyone will be there."
"Of course! I'll be going," Galinda said with a confident smile. "I've brought the perfect dress for such an occasion."
"And I've got the perfect ensemble to complement it," Pfannee added with a flourish. "We'll be the most talked-about pair there."
The conversation continued in this vein for some time, with the three of them discussing clothes and boys and social hierarchies as if these were the most important things in the world. To them, Elphaba supposed, they were.
Eventually, Pfannee and ShenShen left, promising to meet Galinda for breakfast the next morning. As the door closed behind them, an awkward silence fell over the room. Elphaba continued to pretend to read, while Galinda busied herself with arranging and rearranging items on her vanity.
Finally, Galinda spoke. "I suppose we should establish some ground rules."
Elphaba looked up from her book. "Ground rules?"
"Yes. For sharing the room." Galinda turned to face her, chin lifted, eyes cool. "Since we're stuck with each other, at least for now."
Elphaba closed her book and set it aside. "All right. What did you have in mind?"
"Well, first of all, this side of the room is mine." Galinda gestured to her half, which seemed to be expanding by the minute. "You stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine."
"Seems reasonable," Elphaba agreed, though she couldn't help adding, "Though your side seems to be growing."
Galinda ignored this. "Second, I need you to know that my side of the room will be hosting regular beauty sessions with Pfannee. He's going to help me perfect my makeup techniques, and I expect you not to make any sarcastic comments during these important consultations."
"I wouldn't dream of interrupting such important work," Elphaba said dryly.
Galinda's eyes narrowed. "Is everything a joke to you?"
"Not everything," Elphaba said. "Just the ridiculous things."
"My beauty sessions with Pfannee are not ridiculous!"
"If you say so."
Galinda took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. "Third, I will be having friends over. Often. You will make yourself scarce during these times."
"And where exactly am I supposed to go?" Elphaba asked.
"I don't know. The book place? Isn't that where your type usually lurks?"
"My type?" Elphaba repeated, her voice dangerously quiet.
Galinda faltered slightly. "You know. Bookish. Serious. Not... social."
"Ah. And here I thought you were referring to my green-ness."
"Well, that too," Galinda admitted, then seemed to realize what she'd said. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with being... green. It's just... unusual."
"You don't say," Elphaba said flatly.
Another awkward silence fell between them. Galinda turned back to her vanity, picking up a brush and running it through her golden curls. Elphaba watched her for a moment, struck by the practiced grace of her movements. Everything about Galinda seemed rehearsed, as if she were constantly performing for an invisible audience.
"Do you have any rules?" Galinda asked suddenly, catching Elphaba's gaze in the mirror.
Elphaba considered this. "Just one. Don't touch my things. Especially that bottle on the nightstand."
Galinda glanced at the green bottle. "What is it?"
"It was my mother's," Elphaba said, offering no further explanation.
Something flickered across Galinda's face – curiosity, perhaps, or even a hint of sympathy. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Fine. I won't touch your things if you don't touch mine."
"Deal," Elphaba said.
They lapsed into silence again, but it was slightly less tense than before. Elphaba picked up her book once more, and Galinda continued with her beauty routine. They moved around each other carefully, like wary animals sharing the same cage.
As night fell, they prepared for bed with minimal interaction. Elphaba changed into her nightclothes in the bathroom, while Galinda changed behind a decorative screen she'd set up on her side of the room. They said nothing as they climbed into their respective beds and turned out the lights.
In the darkness, Elphaba lay awake, listening to Galinda's breathing gradually slow and deepen. She thought about the day – about her father's dismissal, Nessarose's dependency, Madame Morrible's barely concealed shock at her appearance, and now this strange living arrangement with a girl who represented everything she was not.
She had come to Shiz hoping, despite herself, that things might be different here. That she might find a place where she belonged, or at least where she wasn't constantly reminded of her otherness. But it seemed that some things never changed. She was still the green girl, still the outsider, still defined by her appearance rather than her abilities or her character.
And yet... there was something about Galinda that intrigued her. Not her beauty or her popularity, but the glimpses of something else beneath the perfect exterior. The way her smile sometimes didn't quite reach her eyes. The careful construction of her public persona. The brief moment of what might have been genuine curiosity about Elphaba's mother's bottle.
Elphaba turned onto her side, facing away from Galinda's bed. It didn't matter. They were too different, from different worlds, with different values and different destinies. They would endure each other's presence until Galinda's parents inevitably arranged for her to have a private room, and then they would go their separate ways.
Still, as sleep finally began to claim her, Elphaba couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands – to be admired rather than avoided, to be normal rather than "unusual," to fit in rather than stand out.
"Don't wish, don't start," she murmured one last time, the words barely audible even to herself. "Wishing only wounds the heart."
But in the quiet darkness of their shared room, with Galinda's soft breathing the only sound, Elphaba allowed herself, just for a moment, to wish anyway.