Chapter Text
The cold, rough wall of the arena pressed against Elphaba's back as she leaned against it, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her gaze was fixed impatiently on the locker room door, waiting for her sister to finish yet another lengthy shower after figure skating practice. Nessarose always spent an excessive amount of time under the water, and Elphaba's patience was wearing thin. She just wanted out of this place. Out of this rink, into her truck, and straight down into a dead sleep after a completely draining day.
It had started with an early morning hockey practice, followed by endless hours of analyzing video footage of their upcoming opponents—the Munchkin Marauders. If her team had any hope of making it to the playoffs, tomorrow’s game was absolutely crucial. As captain, Elphaba bore the immense weight of the team’s success on her shoulders, and the strain was taking its toll, both physically and mentally.
She checked the time for the third time in five minutes. Nessa was taking forever. Then a shadow fell across the hallway, and Elphaba knew who it was before she even looked up. Of course. As if the day hadn't been long enough already, here came Fiyero, striding toward her in his skates, grinning like he owned the place.
Ever since he joined this training facility a few months ago, he seemed to have made it his personal mission to bother her at every opportunity. Despite her one-word answers and pointed silences, he never took the hint. Or, being Fiyero, perhaps he simply didn’t care enough to leave her alone.
Elphaba braced herself, readying for whatever nonsense he had in store. There had been a time, long ago, when his attention might have made her heart flutter. But that crush was ancient history now, buried and best left in the past. Unfortunately for her, Fiyero's determination to reconnect ignored all reason.
“Hey, Elphaba,” he said, dropping against the wall beside her, arms crossed loosely.
Elphaba closed her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply in an attempt to summon some remnants of patience. None came.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
Fiyero chuckled. “In a good mood, I see.”
Rolling her eyes, Elphaba reached for her phone, intent on texting Nessa to hurry up. The last thing she needed today was another pointless chat with the man in front of her.
“I just wanted to say congratulations,” he said.
Elphaba turned to face him, thrown by the sincerity in his words.
He smiled faintly. “Oz team captain for the upcoming Olympics. I heard the news.”
Oh. That.
Elphaba shrugged, unsure how to respond. Fiyero’s behavior had been puzzling lately. He wasn’t taunting her or acting like the childish nuisance she remembered. After more than three years of mutual silence, he now seemed intent on changing that. But she wasn’t interested.
“You deserve it. I know how hard you’ve worked for it.”
For a fleeting moment, she glimpsed the boy she had once called her friend—the one who'd shared her hopes and dreams, who'd laughed easily with her back at Shiz. Then the bitterness crept back in, and she looked away.
Before she could say anything, he nodded and turned away, heading for the rink. “Good luck tomorrow,” he said, before stepping onto the ice.
Elphaba watched him glide onto the smooth surface, where Glinda was waiting for him. The sight of the blonde's beaming smile as Fiyero took her hand turned her stomach. She tore her gaze away.
“Ready to go?” Nessa's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Standing next to her was her sister, with her bag slung over her shoulder.
“Yes,” she answered, trying not to sound too impatient. She was more than ready to leave this arena and the two fools skating together.
Her attention shifted as Boq, Nessa's figure skating partner for the past year, leaned in to give her sister a kiss on the cheek before heading off. Nessa blushed and smiled brightly.
Elphaba held back any snide remarks, though it wasn’t easy. Boq’s overly eager demeanor grated on her nerves, and she still suspected he harbored lingering feelings for Glinda—a carryover from his starry-eyed infatuation with her back at Shiz. But she kept her thoughts to herself; for all his faults, he had helped Nessa flourish on the ice.
With a sigh, she offered her arm to her sister, who took it as if it were second nature. As they walked through the quiet corridors, Nessa hummed a cheerful tune. Elphaba said nothing, replaying the scene on the ice instead. The sooner she dropped Nessa off and left this day behind her, the better.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Elphaba planted her skates on the ice as the Munchkin arena roared around her. Clad in her red-and-black Flying Monkeys jersey, she scanned the rink. The Marauders were top of the league for a reason, and it showed in the way they carried themselves. She'd trained too hard to let that intimidate her now.
Callum, the Marauders' captain, smirked at her from the center circle. “Ready to lose, Thropp?”
“You’ll regret those words, Callum. Keep your head up, or I’ll take it off.”
The puck dropped, and the arena erupted with energy. Elphaba surged forward, stick low, eyes already on the puck. Despite being one of the few women in the league, she threw herself into every play with the same ferocity as the men twice her size, earning respect from some and resentment from others.
The game was brutal, but Elphaba quickly noticed that the Munchkin Marauders weren’t playing at their peak. Already guaranteed a playoff spot, they seemed more focused on avoiding injuries than securing another win. But the stakes were too high for the Flying Monkeys, and Elphaba wasn’t about to let the Marauders skate away with a hollow victory.
By the third period, every player on the ice was gassed, but Elphaba kept pushing the pace. With two minutes left on the clock and the score tied at 3-3, the tension was suffocating.
When the Marauders' star player broke away with the puck, their fans erupted in anticipation of victory. But Elphaba reacted faster, diving to intercept the puck before scrambling back to her feet and charging toward the opposing goal.
Callum angled his body across the ice, trying to force her toward the boards. Elphaba smirked. Feinting left, then cutting sharply right, she left him floundering in her wake.
As she approached the net, the goalie crouched low, ready to block. Elphaba's muscles coiled, and with a sharp snap of her stick, she launched the puck into the top corner of the net.
Goal.
The final siren blared, shattering the tension. The Marauders' fans fell silent in defeat while the Flying Monkeys' bench emptied onto the ice. Elphaba threw her arms into the air, roaring with her teammates. This was why she loved hockey.
As the celebrations continued, Elphaba glided to center ice, meeting Callum's gaze. “Good game,” she said, extending her hand.
With a grudging nod, Callum shook it. “Glad to have you on my side for the Olympics.” And with that, he skated off.
The Flying Monkeys had narrowly escaped elimination. One home game left this season, and it was a must-win. The Royals from Emerald City, while competent, were no Marauders. She was ready for the challenge.
OoOoOoOoOoO
After a quick shower to ease the tension in her muscles, Elphaba made her way back to her penthouse apartment on the west side of town. Being at the top of the league certainly had its perks. Her salary provided more than enough to live in luxury, and her sleek, modern space, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows, offered sweeping views of the bustling cityscape of the Gillikinese capital.
Even with the win still fresh, her thoughts kept drifting to Nessa. Now that her game was over, she could finally focus on tomorrow's event.
Her younger sister had always been fiercely determined to prove herself despite her blindness. Elphaba admired how she refused to let it slow her down, but a part of her couldn't help worrying about her sister's well-being. Nessa had been working tirelessly to qualify for the upcoming Paralympics, and now, with the stakes higher than ever, everything hinged on tomorrow’s performance.
Tomorrow marked the final event of the season, where cumulative points would determine the roster. Only the top five pairs in Oz would make it to the Paralympics, and Nessa and Boq were sitting sixth. To qualify, they'd need to outskate whoever was sitting fifth. Nothing less would do.
This year, Nessa had made tremendous progress, especially after partnering with Boq. Together, they'd reached her personal best score, inching her dream of competing on the global stage closer than ever.
Elphaba's jaw tightened at the thought. If she could trade her own Olympic spot for Nessa’s chance at competing, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second. After everything Nessa had overcome and sacrificed to reach this point, she deserved it more than anyone.
The memory of last year’s treachery—an act that nearly shattered Nessa’s dreams—gnawed at her conscience. She still felt guilty for her part in it, but she’d promised to do everything in her power to support her sister after that. Now, all she could do was wait—and hope.
With a deep sigh, she wiped the dampness from her hair and crawled into bed. Tomorrow would be the deciding day, and all she could do now was trust in her sister’s skill and determination. She glanced at the city lights one last time before letting sleep take her.
OoOoOoOoOoO
"Relax, I'm the one performing." Nessa's voice cut through Elphaba's spiralling thoughts. Even blind, her sister could always tell when she was tense.
The words settled her for a moment, but not entirely. Elphaba gripped the wheel tighter as she navigated the familiar road toward the arena.
Once inside, a welcoming voice broke the heavy silence. “Welcome to the Glinda Upland Arena, how can I help you?” The voice was warm and upbeat, as expected from a place with such a name.
“I fucking hate that name,” Nessa muttered under her breath. It was no secret that if anyone loathed Glinda Upland more than Elphaba herself, it was Nessarose. While the entire nation adored the figure skating queen, Elphaba and Nessa shared a deep resentment for their once-close friend.
Despite that, Elphaba couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude for the arena, no matter how much it disgusted her that it bore the blonde’s name. The Uplands had poured their hearts into this place: a state-of-the-art facility, accessible, modern, and, most importantly, welcoming to para-athletes. The arena itself was a second home to Nessa. It was a space where her sister had thrived for the last three years.
Elphaba turned to the receptionist, her jaw clenched but her voice steady. “We’re here for the competition. Nessarose Thropp.”
The woman behind the desk smiled warmly and began sifting through a list of names. Elphaba’s eyes darted across the room, but she quickly avoided the large portrait hanging on the wall—a ridiculously over-the-top image of Glinda, her radiant smile almost blinding, captured in her moment of glory after winning gold at the last Olympics in Earthland. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to be reminded of that particular time when their friendship had completely fallen apart.
The less she saw of Glinda, the better.
After a few moments of scanning the list, the receptionist looked up. “Yes, Miss Thropp. Your partner has already arrived.” A faint smile tugged at Nessa's lips at the mention of Boq. Elphaba couldn't help but smile, too, seeing how much this meant to her sister.
“You can get ready in room #9,” the receptionist continued, but then she turned to Elphaba with a bright smile. “Miss Thropp, I’m a huge fan!”
Elphaba stiffened, her skin prickling with unease. She hated the attention, especially when it was directed at her. Of course, she was known as one of the best hockey players in Oz, and soon, she'd be leading Oz's team as captain at the Olympics. It was a title she was proud of, but she hated the idea of being recognized even more. Besides, today wasn't about her; it was about Nessa. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself.
The receptionist’s smile faltered slightly at her lack of response. “Do you need a pass to assist your sister?” she asked hesitantly.
“My sister doesn’t need assistance,” Elphaba said. She watched Nessa walk toward the corridor, confident and sure of every step. She'd spent countless hours here and knew the place like the back of her hand.
As Nessa turned the corner and vanished into the hallway, Elphaba's voice trailed after her. "Good luck!" she called out, loud enough for her sister to hear. Elphaba stood there a moment longer than she needed to. This was Nessa's final opportunity to qualify for the Paralympics, and her anxiety couldn't stop climbing.
OoOoOoOoOoO
One of the worst things about today was that it wasn’t just a para-skating event—it was also an able-bodied competition, where Fiyero and Glinda were also competing.
Elphaba found herself relegated to the sidelines, watching figure skating while her sister prepared for her own event, which would take place after the main competition. She sat on a bench near the ice, observing the couples as they readied themselves to perform their routines. The level of skating was high, with many athletes vying for Olympic spots. Strangely enough, Fiyero and Glinda, who had both already secured spots in their respective individual events, had yet to qualify as a pair for the main figure skating event in the Olympics.
Intrigued, Elphaba had read about their rocky season start. They were nearly out of the running halfway through, dead last, after canceling many events where they hadn’t skated. But in the second half of the season, they dominated. Now, they only needed to participate in one more event—the final one of the season—to officially qualify. They didn’t even need to score points; they were far enough ahead of the next available spot. They only had to show up, having not yet reached the quota of attended events for the season.
But Elphaba knew them both too well. They would outperform everyone—not out of necessity, but because they craved the spotlight and attention. Some of the other couples who had already qualified for the Olympics weren’t even at this event, making it an easy win for them.
As the highest-ranked couple present today, Fiyero and Glinda would perform last. Elphaba was already planning her exit, intending to head to the restroom to avoid watching their ridiculous, googly-eyed routine when the time came.
Her eyes wandered across the arena. The ice shimmered under the lights, catching the colors of the skaters' costumes as they ran through their warm-ups. Coaches barked last-minute advice from the sidelines, their voices barely audible over the hum of the crowd. Spectators chattered excitedly, clutching paper programs and mugs of steaming drinks. Somewhere behind her, someone was still trying to find their seat, muttering apologies as they squeezed past a row of knees.
Her gaze drifted to the clusters of younger skaters, who watched their idols with wide eyes, filled with admiration and envy. Above it all, the announcer's booth loomed, commentary crackling through the speakers overhead. The competition was about to start.
Just as she was settling in her seat, her eyes caught Fiyero’s sparkling black costume through the crowd. He looked as ridiculous as ever.
He was sitting with a physiotherapist, probably receiving last-minute treatment for an old injury. As a professional athlete herself, Elphaba knew how hard daily training was on the body. She was about to look away when she caught the look on his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, and for once, there was nothing playful about him. Then her gaze dropped to his leg. His right knee was visibly swollen.
She couldn’t look away as Glinda arrived at his side, taking his hand in hers and gazing at him with concern. He returned her gaze with sorrow before shaking his head and lowering it in defeat.
Elphaba's satisfaction grew as she watched Glinda's face fall. Time seemed to slow briefly before Glinda kissed his forehead and quickly left his side.
It seemed Fiyero had injured himself and wouldn’t be able to perform. Elphaba couldn’t help but suppress a smile. Karma had finally caught up with Glinda Upland, and it felt good. She watched as Glinda skated toward the judges' table, visibly upset.
Elphaba’s grin widened as Glinda appeared to beg the judges. Of course, Glinda had always been privileged, accustomed to bending the rules, but it didn’t work this time. The judges shook their heads, unmoved by her pleading.
Served her right.
Elphaba settled back to enjoy the rest of the routines. Glinda’s Olympic dream was shattered, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
OoOoOoOoOoO
She was completely caught off guard when, less than five minutes later, a shaky voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Elphaba?”
Her full name sounded strange on Glinda’s lips. They hadn’t spoken in over three years, and she had no idea what her former friend could possibly want after everything that happened between them.
To be fair, Glinda looked uncharacteristically unsure of herself, and Elphaba almost felt pleased watching her squirm under her stare.
“What do you want?” Her words came out sharper than she intended. She had wanted to sound uninterested, but the rawness of her emotions flared up without warning. Her hands balled into fists, nails digging into her palms.
Glinda flinched but held her ground, meeting her gaze with uncertainty. She paused, then asked, in a soft voice, the last thing Elphaba ever expected to hear:
“Do you have your skates with you?”
For a moment, Elphaba stood frozen. After three and a half years of silence, with no apology, and after Glinda had completely ignored her during the past months of training with Fiyero, this question made absolutely no sense.
Glinda held her gaze, then seemed to steel herself, becoming more determined—more like the woman Elphaba remembered.
“I need a partner,” Glinda said, her voice firm. “You’re a good enough skater to pull it off.”
Elphaba stared at her, speechless. And then she saw red. How dare Glinda come and ask her to save her fucking season, when she was the reason Nessa had to fight so hard for her qualification in the first place?!
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Elphaba said, standing to close the distance between them. Even without her skates, and despite Glinda being in hers, Elphaba stood a few inches taller. It felt good to tower over her, preparing to tell her to fuck off.
Glinda recoiled slightly, crossing her arms defensively.
“I thought that maybe…” Her shoulders dropped, all her earlier resolve gone. “Never mind,” she murmured, her voice so small that Elphaba almost didn’t catch it. Before Elphaba could respond, Glinda hurried away, walking far too fast for someone in skates.
Elphaba watched her go, arms crossed. She had no sympathy. Glinda had ruined the last remaining hope for friendship a year ago when she screwed Nessa over.
Elphaba sank back onto the bench and glanced at the blonde. Glinda looked devastated. She almost felt bad for her—almost. But her rage was still too strong, more prominent than any love she had once felt for her former friend.
OoOoOoOoOoO
It took about ten minutes before someone else Elphaba absolutely didn’t want to see arrived on crutches and dropped beside her. To her surprise—and utter annoyance—Fiyero stayed silent, simply watching the routines, the judges' notes, and the couples skating on the ice. His silence was almost worse than his usual chatter.
“What do you want?” she snapped after several infuriating minutes.
“I saw Glinda asking you to skate with her,” he said, still staring ahead. His voice was unusually serious, and she couldn't remember ever seeing him so somber. She followed his gaze and saw Glinda, small and frozen, staring blankly at the skaters on the rink.
“She's completely out of her mind if she thinks I'd do anything for her,” Elphaba muttered. Fiyero glanced at her, his expression unreadable, and he seemed to be weighing his words—perhaps searching for a way to change her mind. But Elphaba wasn’t having it.
“She deserves it, after what she did to Nessa,” she added.
Fiyero clenched his hands at his sides, knuckles white, and Elphaba could feel the tension in his posture. He looked ready to defend Glinda, but wisely, he stayed silent. Good. She was done with him and Glinda weaving back into her life uninvited. But Fiyero kept pushing. He always did.
“Would you do it for me, then?” he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made her pause. At first, she thought she hadn’t heard him correctly—the absurdity of it didn’t register. Then she considered he might be joking, trying to lighten the mood with one of his usual half-hearted attempts at humor. But when she turned to look at him, she saw it: the seriousness in his eyes. There was no trace of the playful smirk she had come to expect, no hint of irony. He was utterly, unnervingly serious.
He didn’t flinch. “Oz’s rules allow for a skater replacement. Only one of us needs to skate today for us to still qualify as a pair.”
Elphaba scoffed, shooting him a venomous glare. “You think too highly of yourself if you honestly believe I give a damn about you anymore. I couldn’t care less about your stupid Olympics—or you, for that matter.”
For a split second, he looked like she had physically struck him. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, turning his gaze back to the rink, his jaw tightening. The silence between them thickened.
Glinda and Fiyero had failed miserably at the last Olympics in couple skating, despite Glinda’s individual victory and gold medal. It wasn’t entirely their fault—Elphaba knew she had played a part in their poor performance, undermining their chemistry. But as much as the truth lingered in her mind, she couldn't bring herself to care. They had made their choices, and those choices had led them here. The two of them deserved their misery and heartbreak. She had no intention of helping them qualify today.
The uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Elphaba couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Why doesn’t she just skate with her coach?” she blurted, desperate for anything to end the conversation. Fiyero took his time, as if carefully choosing his words.
“She’s not on speaking terms with him.”
It was a political answer, and Elphaba recognized it for what it was. Both Glinda and Fiyero had studied politics at Shiz, excelling at skirting the truth with their well-practiced words.
“Another person the mighty Glinda Upland pissed off,” Elphaba mocked, fully aware of Glinda's selfish and difficult nature.
Fiyero stayed silent for a moment, and Elphaba thought—hoped—the conversation might finally be over. But then, in a voice quieter than she expected, he said something that froze her blood.
“Do it for Nessa, then.”
Elphaba whipped around so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash.
“What does my sister have to do with this?” she snapped.
Fiyero looked almost apologetic, but he quickly masked it, shrugging as if trying to downplay the weight of his words. “Well, if you don’t skate with her, there’s one last person Glinda could ask, and we both know he’d agree.”
It took her a few seconds to understand. Then the meaning of it hit her all at once.
“She wouldn’t dare.”
But Fiyero’s look told her everything. Glinda would dare. She’d crushed Nessa’s dreams once before, and now she’d do it again to get what she wanted. If Glinda asked Boq to skate with her, Nessa would lose her chance. Boq couldn’t legally skate with two different partners in the same event. And Boq, who had always been enamored with Glinda, might well follow her request, regardless of what it cost Nessa.
“Fuck you both!” she spat, jumping to her feet. There were no words to capture the absolute, unadulterated loathing she felt for them.
“Hurry up! I’ll register you,” came Fiyero’s infuriatingly victorious voice. Without another thought, Elphaba stormed off, heading for her truck to grab her hockey bag.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Elphaba quickly slipped on her skates, her fingers moving in swift, practiced motions as she tied the laces. The door to the locker room creaked open.
“What the hell?” she snapped, her gaze immediately locking onto Fiyero as he strolled into the women’s locker room without a second thought.
Unbothered, Fiyero merely shrugged. “It’s not like you’re naked,” he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, there’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Anger flashed through her, blood simmering at his audacity. Her cheeks heated. Of course he'd say something like that. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it affected her.
“What do you want?” she demanded, her tone clipped. Fiyero didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he began pulling off his shirt, revealing his toned abs and lean physique.
Elphaba’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes drifting to his chest. For a brief, disorienting moment, she was back at Shiz, remembering how she had secretly admired him from afar, her heart pounding at the mere sight of him. Her mind snapped back to the present, pulse quickening in a mix of embarrassment and anger.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, forcing her attention away from the past and back to the present. Fiyero didn’t seem to notice her brief lapse, or if he did, he didn’t comment on it.
“You’ll be disqualified if you don’t wear a costume,” Fiyero said, his voice matter-of-fact as he tossed his sparkling black shirt toward her. “The rule today is black.”
“I’m not wearing that,” she said flatly, eying the absurd garment. The shirt practically screamed for attention, and she had no intention of drawing any more eyes to herself than absolutely necessary.
“Elphaba, the whole point is to not get disqualified.” Fiyero's voice was tinged with frustration, though for once, the usual smugness was absent. Elphaba stood her ground, crossing her arms in defiance. She wasn’t about to let him—or either of them—manipulate her again. If she was going to be humiliated for their sake, she might as well make them work for it.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Elphaba's steps slowed as she neared Glinda, who remained frozen on the bench. Her posture was rigid, her gaze distant, unfocused—as if she were staring through the crowd rather than at it. She hadn’t moved since their earlier argument, and with the minutes ticking away, Elphaba had no idea how to approach her.
The last thirty minutes had been a blur. After registering the substitution at the jury table, Fiyero had hurried back to the locker room to shove his costume at her before vanishing again to handle the logistics. Elphaba had rejected his offer, opting instead for her black hockey practice jersey. Without shoulder pads to fill it out, the fabric hung loose and shapeless, carrying the lingering scent of sweat from that morning’s practice. She grimaced at her reflection in the rink’s glass door, but there was no time to care about appearances. Besides, it was still better than Fiyero’s ridiculous costume.
When she finally reached her, sitting slightly higher in the stand near the rink entrance, Glinda didn't seem to notice her presence. Her bright blonde hair gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, starkly contrasting with the dull, defeated expression etched on her face. Elphaba's throat tightened at the sight of her—so broken, so unlike the Glinda she remembered. The situation was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
“Glinda,” Elphaba said, more sharply than she meant to.
Glinda flinched, her head snapping toward her. Her eyes were hollow, dimmed by exhaustion. The spark Elphaba knew so well was gone.
“Get down here,” she muttered, her voice softening slightly, unwilling to let the bitterness take hold.
Glinda blinked, processing the words as if they didn't quite register at first. But then, slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, her bladeguards clicking against the tiled floor. Her movements were slow and cautious, but when she stopped in front of Elphaba, her face was a mask of emptiness. The expression was so devoid of life that Elphaba almost couldn't bear it.
For a short moment, neither spoke. Elphaba did not know what to say. She was still furious at the blonde, and she didn’t want to be there at all.
Glinda’s eyes flickered over her face, searching, confused. Elphaba stood rooted, her fists clenched at her sides, fighting the urge to retreat. She was overwhelmed, angry, and terrified, all at once, but she couldn’t let herself look away.
Then, slowly, Glinda's gaze dropped—over the loose hockey jersey, all the way down to her skates. Elphaba watched the realization land, Glinda's whole body going still. Her eyes widened, then lifted to meet hers again.
“You…” Glinda’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” Elphaba said hoarsely. “Changed my mind.” Her words felt clumsy, inadequate, but there was no time for anything more. Despite her anger and apprehension, she had to do this. For Nessa. She crossed her arms tighter around herself in a useless attempt to hold back her growing unease. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”
Glinda let out a breathy, incredulous laugh, and for a brief moment, the familiar spark returned to her eyes.
The crowd’s cheers signaled the end of the previous routine. They had mere minutes to put something together. The weight of the moment settled between them, heavy and unspoken.
But as the crowd cheered the last performance, Glinda's transformation was immediate. The broken, vulnerable woman from moments before vanished, replaced by the professional figure skater Elphaba knew her to be. She squared her shoulders, determination returning to her eyes. This was more familiar, and Elphaba was instantly a bit more at ease.
“Okay,” Glinda said briskly, her voice steady and commanding. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Elphaba nodded, settling into the role of following orders. It was a familiar feeling, almost comforting in its routine. She was accustomed to taking direction from her coaches.
“We don’t need points to qualify,” Glinda explained, her tone sharp and efficient. “We just need to avoid disqualification. That means sticking to the basics—no big stunts, no risks.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Elphaba’s jersey, and her nose wrinkled in disdain. “That’ll have to do.”
Elphaba nodded again, the weight of Glinda’s expectations settling heavily on her shoulders.
“We need to dance in sync for at least one minute,” Glinda continued, her voice steady, but her eyes betraying a flicker of doubt. “I’ll copy you. Just keep it simple, keep it slow.”
Elphaba swallowed hard. Dancing was never her strong suit, and Glinda knew it. She could already see herself stumbling, humiliating herself in front of the crowd. Her heart was already racing.
The pressure of being watched was unbearable. She had been mocked her entire life for things she couldn’t change—her green skin, her awkwardness. The thought of everyone in the arena, and worse, on social media, seeing her fail made it hard to breathe. She could already hear the whispers, the cruel jabs, the way people would tear apart every awkward move. In her mind, the words were already echoing: "Look at the green girl trying to dance." Her throat went dry, and her hands trembled.
Glinda must have seen the panic flash across her face, because without warning, she reached out and gripped her arm.
A jolt ran through her, and she flinched, suddenly reminded of another time—late-night study sessions, whispered secrets, the warmth of Glinda's hand finding hers when the world had felt too overwhelming.
“Sorry,” Glinda murmured, quickly pulling her hand back. Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she stepped forward, eyes never leaving hers. “Alright, focus. We need at least three lifts. We’ll start with a basic hip lift. I’ll walk you through it.”
Elphaba stood still, watching as Glinda moved with precision, guiding her hands firmly to her slender hips. “Here,” Glinda instructed, her voice crisp and no-nonsense. “Your hands go here, and—”
Before she could finish, Elphaba lifted Glinda high off the ground, her arms steady and sure. Glinda yelped in surprise, flailing briefly, then steadying herself in Elphaba’s grip.
Elphaba’s face showed nothing but smug satisfaction as she held Glinda aloft for a moment before gently lowering her back down. "Like this?" she asked, her voice laced with teasing. If she had to do this ridiculous routine with Glinda, she might as well enjoy poking fun at her along the way. Besides, making fun of each other had been their dynamic for so long—Elphaba comforted herself in the familiarity. Oz knows, she needed all the comfort she could get right now.
Glinda blinked, her cheeks flushing. “I… I wasn’t finished explaining,” she murmured, her words stumbling over each other.
Elphaba smirked, not missing the subtle fluster in Glinda’s voice. “No need. I’ve got it.”
Glinda stood, still catching her breath as she looked up at Elphaba. "I forgot how strong you are,” she muttered, a hint of awe in her voice, taking a step back to regain her composure.
Elphaba gave a small shrug. “It’s nothing new. Nessa and I used to practice lifts together—hip lifts, shoulder lifts, overhead lifts. I’ve done them all. I won’t drop you.”
Glinda’s eyes widened in surprise as she glanced at her. “I never feared you would.”
There was real sincerity in Glinda's voice, and their gazes locked once more. Something passed between them, a feeling that Elphaba could not quite name. But the fleeting moment was almost immediately broken by the announcer’s voice booming across the rink.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a last-minute substitution: Miss Elphaba Thropp will be skating alongside Miss Glinda Upland!”
The crowd erupted in murmurs and gasps. Cameras flashed, and Elphaba’s stomach twisted into knots. “What are we supposed to do for the rest of the routine?” she asked, knowing that a minute of awkward dancing and three lifts would never make a complete five-minute routine.
“We’ll be qualified after that,” Glinda said, looking at her with a mischievous grin and a gleam in her eyes. “We just have to stay on the ice until the song ends. And hey, we could race and see if you’re still too slow to catch up.”
With that, Glinda took her hand, leading her onto the ice and into the glaring spotlight.