**Listen on the Spotiy app to hear custom transitions. Use headphones for an optimum listening experience.*
Since seeing the Michael film I've been hyperfixating HARD, especially on his music!
My introduction to MJ was The Wiz, and I've always loved that film's impeccably produced soundtrack by Quincy Jones. Thus, I decided to try my hand at mixing songs from Michael's first three Quincy produced albums with tracks from the Wiz, and this is the result!
The Spotify Mix feature has become my best friend and I'm excited to make more custom MJ playlists!
scroll to the end of this chapter for a SPOOKY surprise! 🎃🔮🧙♀️
Of the thirteen full moons on the Ozian calendar, the autumnal lunar eclipse was considered the most foreboding.
Like a pumpkin suspended in the stars, the moon was cloaked by a blood-orange shadow that cast a ruddy glow across the fairyland below. Ancient hearsay speculated that Kumbric witches would harness the power of the eclipse to awaken idle spirits, terrorizing innocent Ozians with their wickedness.
Though Kumbric witches were all but extinct, and encounters with spirits hadn’t been verified in decades, the thirteenth night of Octobrus remained an ominous, twisted sort of holiday, observed in superstitious solitude.
The Kumbrinox was not widely acknowledged with merriment or mischief, but the discreet appointment of carved gourds, confidently guarding doorsteps with their illuminated glee. Even the gnarliest of ghouls would be deterred by the prowess of a lanternized pumpkin, according to the farmers who sold them, that is.
Galinda Upland had historically never given much thought to the lunar eclipse beyond its undeniable radiance, but in the midst of her magical coming-of-age, she found herself wanting to fully embrace the season of the witch.
She’d taken Morrible’s assigned reading to heart, engrossing herself in the wisdom of How to Awaken the Witch Within You. More inspired than ever, she’d convinced herself that spiritual empowerment would evolve into something literal.
Ritualistic in her approach, Galinda had taken to lighting a pink candle each morning for a manifestation meditation. She’d close her eyes and visualize power bubbling around her, bursting with light and goodness. Elphaba, fascinated by the whole routine, would watch her roomie whisper her intentions and attempt to draw sigils in the air with her training wand.
Despite all of these devotional feats, Galinda’s inner witch continued to snooze, and she’d begun to lose faith. She of course still believed in the core tenet of Lurline’s Fae magic— “bless oneself by blessing others”— but how could she ever hope to bless anyone if she couldn’t cast even the simplest of spells?
In the days following their visit to the Boar and Fennel, Galinda had experienced a sort of Kumbric awakening of her own, raising her spirits to new heights.
Desperate to find any transcendent skillset she could master, she had opened her mind to the idea of Kumbric alchemy, venturing into the restricted section of the book place to find literature that might inform her explorations. Kumbric witches weren’t nearly as neat about record keeping as their Fae counterparts, but the wannabe witch was in no position to be particular.
This alternative academia had inspired Galinda to properly observe the Kumbrinox, hoping the hallowed evening would amplify her spiritualism into something more seeable.
She’d invited her cohorts to meet her under the scarlet moonlight in the Shiz gardens, beaming when they finally arrived.
“Galinda, what is all this?” asked Elphaba as the group approached. She had lovingly set up a cozy little séance for her charmed circle, lighting candles, arranging crystals, and placing a grinning, glowing pumpkin by her side. It was quite the bewitching display.
“In honor of the Kumbrinox, I want us all to connect with our inner spirits, and maybe some floating around out here too!” Galinda giggled with excitement like this was a perfectly normal activity for a Friday night.
“Did I not warn you against taking up Kumbric antics?” Elphaba scolded, aghast at Galinda’s deviance from their intended denomination of witchcraft.
“Oh Elphie, relax! I’m not about to join the Pleasure Faith; I’m simply broadening my thaumaturgical horizons!” She was so adorably passionate that Elphaba couldn’t bring herself to disparage Galinda’s determination, but that didn’t mean she was willing to endorse illicit occultism.
She and Fiyero exchanged a negativistic glance, and he could tell from the way Elphaba’s brow cocked that he too should voice some concern.
“And here I was thinking I was the one responsible for corrupting you all,” Fiyero admitted, picking up a crystal to inspect it warily.
“It’s not corruption, it’s enlightenment!” Galinda promised, snatching the crystal back from her beau and restoring it to its rightful place within her collection.
She motioned for them all to settle themselves around her sorcerous spread, the boys helping Nessarose down from her chair and onto one of the plush pillows Galinda had placed on the ground for their comfort.
Elphaba was the last to sit down, her arms crossed in trepid defiance. She filled the gap between Galinda and Fiyero, with Boq and Nessa to his left, rounding out their circular formation to create a quirky sort of coven.
“Alright Galinda, what shade of darksided enlightenment are you leading us toward tonight?” the green witch asked, contempt coloring her tone.
Galinda cleared her throat and her mind with a delicate cough, fanning a deck of illustrated cards face down onto the floral blanket beneath her.
“Have any of you ever received an arcanic reading before?” she inquired with an opportunistic sparkle in her eye. As expected, they all shook their heads.
“Is that like fortune telling?” Nessarose asked with a shy curiosity.
“We witches prefer to call it divination!”
Elphaba preferred to call it a cheap parlor trick, but she held her tongue.
“There are many magical ways to go about understanding one’s past, present, and future,” Galinda explained, “but arcana cards provide the highest form of clarity. I’ve been practicing my intuitive interpretation skills, and I want to do readings for all of you.”
“I would love for you to read me,” Boq admitted all too earnestly. He’d gotten fairly decent at concealing his desire for Galinda on account of his active courtship of Nessa. But every once in a while, the symptoms of his lovesickness would flare up without warning.
“Right, yes, of course!” Galinda affirmed, quickly pivoting into the instructionals.
“From these arcana cards I’ve laid before you, you’ll each pull the three you feel most drawn to; it’s best not to think too hard about it,” she explained, winking at Fiyero, who grinned encouragerizingly.
“Since you’re all new to this, I chose a simple spread from my guidebook that should still be quite revelatory!” Galinda tossed her hair and opened a small booklet, reciting its oracular vernacular like a true performer.
“The first card in this spread is your heart, an aspirational desire that reflects what you need most in your life, even if you didn’t realize it before.”
Boq placed a hand on his chest as if the words had struck him right in the aorta.
“The second card is your hitch— an obstacle that prevents you from finding what you seek. And the third card is your key— the solution to overcoming your troubles and achieving your goals.”
Once everyone confirmed their understanding, Galinda prompted them all to entwine their hands into a proper circle, allowing only the Universe’s divine wisdom to come into their orbit.
“A circle charmed with hearts so true, spirits near, we call to you.”
Their intentions set and their energies cleared, Galinda invited Boq to pull his cards. He took his time with the selection, clearly savouring his proximity to the blonde diviner.
As soon as his trio of cards was arranged, the witch grounded herself with a deep breath of discernment before flipping over the first card.
“Boq, your heart is… Strength!” Galinda sang, exhibiting the card for the group’s appraisal.
“That sounds promising!” Boq gauged, and Galinda launched into one of many short monologues from her guidebook.
“Empowered Strength represents a balance between vigor and patience. Once you commit to something or someone, you are steadfast in your loyalty, offering up your support whenever you see a need. Your emotional fortitude is your greatest asset, an invisible gift that others may erroneously underestimate. Even if you feel like your raw passions get the better of you sometimes, this card urges you to channel your sensitivities into constructive compassion.”
The group regarded Boq’s reading harmoniously, taking a moment to appreciate their friend’s sensitivity, and he basked in the acknowledgement. Galinda was pleased with herself for facilitating such a heartening moment.
“Now here’s where things get interesting. Your hitch is… The Lovers.” Boq blushed at the title and the illustration of an upside down nude couple.
“What does it mean when the card isn’t right side up?” he asked with mild alarm.
“That’s what we diviners call the ‘challenge’ position. It’s not inherently negative, but it does present an alternative perspective!” Galinda explained, going on to clarify the card’s messaging.
“The challenged Lovers signify a disharmony within yourself or with your loved ones. Perhaps the feelings within your romantic relationship are not fully mutual, creating a schism that will only grow more dissonant if not addressed. Within your own heart, are you showing yourself the unconditional love you deserve? If you’ve been wishing to be more like someone else, understand that being able to recognize admirable traits in others is a sign that you possess them as well.”
Boq’s fleeting burst of confidence was suddenly collapsing. He made the mistake of peering over at Nessarose, who refused to meet his eye. Galinda moved the reading along to rescue them from the tension.
“Remember that any obstacle can be conquered with the help of your key, which for you, Boq is… the Devil. But don’t worry, it’s also in the challenge position!” Reversed or not, Boq was visibly distraught to be associated with a demonic entity.
“When The Devil is challenged, you’re being called upon to free yourself from the harmful beliefs and unhealthy attachments that keep you from moving forward in life. You may be on the verge of a great adventure or self-discovery, but you must confront what lies in the shadows before you can fully step into a new version of yourself.”
Galinda smiled tightly as she closed her guidebook, reshuffling the cards as the group sat in a brief reflective silence.
“Did any of that resonate, Boq? I know your cards might have been a little… intimidating, but I think they actually show great promise for emotional growth!”
“It did, Galinda, your divine intuition is remarkable,” Boq insisted as he dabbed at a stray tear with his handkerchief, realizing his inner turmoil was now all too external.
“I would like to go next,” voiced Nessarose, still refusing to even acknowledge Boq’s presence.
“Wonderful! Go ahead and select your cards,” Galinda directed, thankful for the engagement. Nessa weeded out her cards like a gardener extracting invasive plants, with sharp, decisive plucks.
“Alright,” Galinda began, “Nessa, your heart is… The Chariot! Ooh, that’s a good one!”
“The empowered Chariot is a recognition of your innate willpower. When your autonomy aligns with your values, you can make actionable decisions that can bring your dreams to life. Let this be an encouragement to assert yourself when others do not respect your boundaries or understand your needs. Remain disciplined with fierce dedication, and you’ll be able to overcome any obstacle in your way.”
Nessarose nodded neutrally, but her aura conveyed a keen yearning. “And my hitch?”
“Your hitch is… The Emperor, in the challenge position; quite common for hitches, by the way.”
“When challenged, the Emperor represents a struggle with an authoritative presence in your life, possibly a partner, mentor, or father figure. This card asks you to reflect on your relationship with power in all aspects of your life. Are you sacrificing your personal power to please others, or asserting it in a way that makes others feel powerless? You shouldn’t try to control others, nor should you submit to rigid dominance; true power comes from balance.”
As soon as Galinda had uttered the words father and figure, Elphaba and Nessa’s eyes locked, both recognizing the truth of the reading. Though Nessa certainly had a more doting dynamic with Frexspar, she could never truly thrive beneath his thumb.
“And your key is… The Wheel of Fortune! Oh, how fortunate you are Miss Nessarose!”
“When empowered, the Wheel of Fortune seeks to remind you of the cyclical nature of karma. What you put out into the world will come back your way, so be mindful of your attitudes and actions. No matter the strife you may be experiencing, have faith that the Universe will eventually turn things around in your favor. The magic of fate and destiny is behind you, and miracles are happening all the time.”
Everyone grinned optimistically at Nessa’s prospects, and the girl felt a sense of restorative righteousness. “That was very… motivational. Thank you Galinda.”
“You are so very welcome!” the witch crooned, beginning to feel like a true bringer of goodness.
There were two members of the coven left to be read, and neither of them volunteered. They leered at each other with contention, silently daring one another to offer themselves up for divine assessment. Elphaba was resistant to self-reflection, and Fiyero didn’t care for tests of any kind.
“Fiyero, dearest,” Galinda chirped, intercepting their stagnant little war. “Will you let me read your cards next?”
“If it’ll make you happy, of course I will,” he responded with only a tinge of sarcasm, casually culling his cards from the reshuffled spread. He figured if he didn’t give the selection any thought, the cards wouldn't be able to detect his deepest ones.
“Perfect. Your key, Fiyero, is… The Hermit.” The prince peered skeptically at the illustrated figure, wearily cloaked and clutching a lantern like a lifeline.
“The Hermit empowers you to go on a journey of introspection. If you’re considering a new direction, allow yourself to tune in to the guiding light that will illuminate the wisdom you seek. Shine this on your soul and create a new unique path, traversing it one step at a time. You don’t have to take this journey alone, however. The Hermit may join you as a spiritual mentor, enhancing your consciousness by teaching you how to find your answers within.”
Galinda preened, assuming this spiritual mentor of his must be none other than herself. To her left, Elphaba fidgeted with her rings and found herself imagining the way the alphabet looked written in sand.
Fiyero openly scoffed at the card’s suggestion. “I famously do not seek wisdom, so as intuitively talented as you are, my darling, I think the Universe is mistaken on this one.”
Galinda lovingly narrowed her eyes at her beau, his careless existence somehow still charming to her.
“Alright, well, let’s see about your hitch, which is… The challenged Fool.”
“Now that one has to be accurate,” Elphaba chimed in, chuckling at her own wry wit even when no one else did. Galinda glared at her affectionately as well before continuing.
“The challenged Fool indicates that you’ve been acting far too recklessly as of late. Your spontaneous, adventurous spirit is admirable, but have you considered the consequences of the risks you’ve been taking? Despite your uninhibited lifestyle, your fears may be holding you back from your true potential. Be courageous when faced with the unknown, but don’t be afraid to show a little more caution.”
“So you’re saying I should stop jumping into canals or provoking truculent trees? But I so enjoy my own foolishness!” Fiyero winked at Elphaba, who fought valiantly to suppress a smirk. It was obvious to her that his interjections were clever attempts to deflect from how fluently these cards were reading him.
“I’m not the one saying it; the Universe, however, might be trying to tell you something through me!” Galinda insisted before flipping over Fiyero’s last card.
“The key to your heart is… The Hierophant, in the challenge position, interestingly.” The primary challenge the card presented to Fiyero was trying to comprehend its spelling.
“The challenged Hierophant dares you to challenge the status quo. The darkest path is carved by blindly following others. Forge your own by embracing your truth and trusting your intuition. Don’t be afraid to open your eyes and really look at the world around you, seeking out opportunities to rebel against the rigid structures that try to tether you to conformity.”
Fiyero chuckled despite himself, trying his best to seem unaffected by the messages he’d received. Though he felt compelled to affirm Galinda’s augural prowess, he wasn’t ready to admit just how much it actually resonated.
“Well, if I ever do go searching for wisdom, I’ll try not to do so recklessly. And I’ll make sure to bring a lantern, for whatever that last card was trying to illuminate.” Galinda was pleased to see him heeding the Universe’s advice, even if a bit too literally.
After four uniquely complex readings, Galinda felt ready to divinely decipher the most labyrinthine creature she knew. “Elphie,” she lilted in her most enticing manner, “will you let me interpret your destiny just a little?”
Her cunning little smile was almost impossible to resist, and Elphaba surrendered with a huff. “I want you to know that the only reason I’m consenting to this is to support your thaumaturgical education.” Elphaba didn’t need further instruction, efficiently selecting three cards that surreptitiously called to her.
“Excellent!” Galinda exclaimed, delighted to have gotten her way. “Elphie, your heart is… the Empress! How utterly divine!” She took in the illustration of an ethereal woman reigning over a lush forest, serene but almost lonesome looking.
“The empowered Empress acknowledges that you are in a period of growth where your dreams are starting to come to fruition. This is the time to reflect on the abundance around you and receive the grounding spirit of nature into your heart and consciousness. When you are in tune with the divine feminine, you’ll find yourself enriched by a strong urge to nurture and care for others, as you do your own ideas and goals.”
Elphaba tried to envision herself in such a wonderful state of being, the hazy imagery of that special vision clarifying just a little. She’d yet to share her prophetic proclivities with Galinda, knowing it would just make her more insecure about her own lack of supernaturality. Figuring she could stand to be more optimistic towards Galinda’s journey, Elphaba gave her friend a nod of resonance, which resonated deeply within the girl’s heart.
“See! This work is meaningful! Now Elphie, your hitch is… the Moon.” The group instinctively glanced skyward to see if the lunar eclipse was still in its appropriate position.
“The challenged Moon shows itself when you are letting negative influences cast a shadow over your soul. You may have tried to avoid your fears and anxieties in the past, pushing them aside under the pretense of indifference. By not working through these emotions, you are limiting your potential. You are being called to listen to your inner voice, and not the voices of others.”
Elphaba’s inner voice suddenly felt hoarse, and the urge to curl in on herself was mighty. She wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye, and Fiyero could see the defensiveness radiating off her like phosphorescence. He’d also seen what she was capable of when she did face her fears, and if she heeded the Moon’s advice, he feared for anyone who might try to get in the way of Elphaba’s power.
“And finally, Elphie, your key is… Death.”
“Death?!” Fiyero immediately interrupted with far too much fear in his voice. “What do you mean, Death? How could that possibly be her key?”
Elphaba let herself glance over at him again, concerned but oddly comforted by his fretting over her. Fiyero’s breath was heavy beside her as he recovered from his outburst.
“It’s not as frightening as it sounds, I promise!” Galinda assured him and Elphaba both, though her doelike eyes welled with an unambiguous uncertainty.
“An empowering Death symbolizes the conclusion of a major phase of your life that is no longer serving you. You will have to put the past behind you and part ways, relinquishing unhealthy attachments to pave the way for a renewed life of deeper meaning and significance. It may be frightening to let go of the past, but take the leap; the fall will be transformative.”
Elphaba could sense the weight of the card’s omen, but for reasons she couldn’t yet understand, she felt unburdened, like maybe there was some enlightenment to be found in the darkness.
“Could I look at the card a little closer?” she asked, feeling herself called to it like a beacon. Galinda nodded her consent, and Elphaba reached out towards the arcanic spread.
The moment Elphaba made contact with the illustration, her skull whipped backward with the force of a visceral vision. The images came to her in fragments as they always did, blurred at the edges with no distinct chronology.
A wooden bucket spilled over onto a puddle of its own liquified contents.
“Elphaba?!”
An isolated blue feather arched upward in sorrow.
“Elphie, that isn’t funny, stop it!”
A bundle of bristles charred by smoking embers, lightning a dark chamber like a defiant match.
“ELPHABA!”
A horrified harmony shook her out of her dreamlike stupor, as did a physical shaking. Elphaba opened her eyes to find Galinda and Fiyero staring at her at close range with even closer concern.
“What is it?” Elphaba asked casually, as if they hadn’t just witnessed her experience a paranormal event.
“What in Oz just happened to you?” Galinda wailed, “I thought we’d lost you to the spirit realm!” Fiyero didn’t say anything, he just kept looking at Elphaba like she might disappear if he took his eyes off her.
“I have… visions sometimes. I don’t know why, and they come to me at random; though I’ve found that they can be triggered by specific stimuli.” She pointed to the card, and Fiyero grimaced at it with fire in his gaze.
“What did you see?” asked Galinda, desperate to understand the implifications of Elphaba’s clairvoyance.
“Um, I didn’t recognize any of it, and the images come and go so quickly… there was an overturned bucket, a plucked feather, and some burned straw?” Her description did little to ease anyone’s confusion or worry. "I'm sorry if I scared you all, I didn't mean to."
She looked so ashamed of herself for something she had no control over, and it made Fiyero's heart twist. "We're just glad you came back to us. Just promise that you'll stay far away from buckets, feathers, and straw.”
Elphaba chuckled weakly at the uncanny nature of her condition. “I’ll try my best.”
“I think this is our sign from the spirits to bring our Kumbrinox observations to a close," Galinda admitted, squeezing Elphaba to keep her safe and grounded.
Even though she was still reeling from Elphaba’s near possession, it was undeniable proof of the power of divination, possibly even her power. Galinda expressed her gratitution to the Universe by lovingly recollecting the cards, blowing them a kiss, and crowning them with a crystal to help them recharge.
“And they say Winkies are the exotic ones…” Fiyero mumbled towards Elphaba, and the two of them shared a coy grin over her whimsy. His lingering fear for her life was soothed ever so slightly by her smile.
They all helped pack up their little seance, officially moving on from their brief stint as Kumbric witches. Galinda clutched Elphaba's hand a little tighter than usual as they made their way back to the dormitory.
“Elphie…” a petite voice cried out, “I’m too spooked to sleep.”
Her bedside lamp illuminated a trembling Galinda, clutching her knees as well as a crystal for protection.
“What’s wrong?” Elphaba asked gently as she crossed the dorm, sliding under her roommate’s frilly duvet. Galinda craved closeness whenever she was anxious, and Elphaba too had come to appreciate the calming properties of a good cuddle.
“The more I think about your key and your vision, the more frightened I get.”
“But didn’t you say that Death isn’t something to be frightened of? The message was about letting go of what doesn’t serve you so you can find a more fulfilling path. If that’s what will unlock my heart’s desire, why should I be afraid of it?”
“But the things you saw sound so ominous; what could a bucket or a feather possibly have to do with personal growth?” Galinda whined, plugging her ears when another roll of thunder came through.
Elphaba tenderly took Galinda’s hands into her own, wanting to ease her fears, but for once not knowing how to logic them away.
“I have no idea how those things in my vision connect to Death or what that will even mean for me, and I think I’m alright with not knowing. Someday, we’ll understand that strange little prophecy and probably laugh about it.”
Galinda giggled, momentarily assured that she wasn’t about to lose her friend to the afterlife. Elphaba also wanted to assure her of something else, a real fear that she knew was limiting her true potential.
“Even if I don’t endorse all of your methods, I respect how passionately you’ve applied yourself with sorcery.” The affirmation of her efforts made Galinda’s eyes glisten.
“You have real power, Galinda; I know you do. But you won’t find it in pretty stones or a deck of cards, you have to find it within yourself.”
The girls slept peacefully through the rest of the thunderstorm, and Galinda dreamt of a future empowered by love, magic, and Elphaba.
we love gay witchery!! Happy Kumbrinox to all who celebrate!
*pov* you're Elphaba Thropp looking at a couple of fools who are absolutely obsessed with you.
*SCROLL TO THE END OF THIS POST FOR A SURPRISE!*
“Elphie!”
Elphaba looked up from her scientificals textbook to find Galinda flinging frocks across her side of their dorm, grunting with each toss as if the gowns offended her.
“What’s wrong?”
Galinda plopped down on her vanity stool with a pout. “I have absolutely nothing to wear for my date with Fiyero tonight!”
“You’re joking.”
“I don’t joke about fashion famine!”
Equating her lack of style inspiration to drought and destitution was a bit of a stretch, even by Galinda standards, but Elphaba had to remind herself that the privileged defined tragedy differently.
This was certainly a quandary better suited to the likes of Pfanne or Shenshen, but since they were still on the outs, Elphaba called upon her finite fashion sense to offer support.
“Well, what sort of look are you trying to achieve that your vast wardrobe doesn’t cover?”
Galinda looked at herself in the mirror, pondering her hopes and dreams.
“I want Fiyero to see me as more… womanly,” she said as she ran her hands down her torso, trying to accentuate whatever curves she could find.
Elphaba found her phrasing confusifying. “Unless his eyesight has been compromised, I don’t understand how we wouldn’t be able to see that you’re a woman.”
“Ugh, Elphie, you don’t understand!” Galinda huffed as she lounged listlessly next to her roommate on the chaise.
“I need him to see me as more than just some charming girl he can have fun with; I want him to envision me as the woman he'll marry someday!”
Elphaba tried to imagine what Galinda would look like walking down a wedding aisle, wondering if she’d wear a white gown or a distinctly pink one. Either way, she hoped that whoever was waiting for Galinda at the altar would cherish her bridely beauty.
“I understand that you two really hit it off, but, Galinda, you’ve only known Fiyero for a week! Isn’t it a little too soon to be worrying about marriage?”
Galinda sat up straight and turned to face her friend. “Elphie, can I tell you something?”
She took note of Galinda’s sudden change in tone, and Elphaba understood that they were about to enter into one of their special secret sharing sessions. “Of course.”
“My mother and father didn’t initially support the idea of me enrolling at Shiz. I applied without their permission, and didn’t tell them until I got my acceptance letter. I’m actually the first girl from Pertha Hills to ever get in to Shiz!”
Elphaba had never once considered Galinda Upland to be such an enterprising rebel. She was as shocked as she was impressified.
“As you know, it is my heart’s desire to become a sorceress, but my family doesn’t approve of anyone but the Wizard practicing thaumaturgy. Thus, they have no idea that my intention is to major in sorcery.”
The idea of someone like Galinda feeling misunderstood by her family was unprecedented to Ephaba. She’d never imagined that they might share such a similar struggle, and it shined a new light on her roommate’s gleaming ambition.
“What do they think you’re studying?” asked Elphaba, wondering if Galinda’s father was as small-minded as her own.
“Husbandry.”
“You mean like, agriculture?”
Galinda giggled merrily and slapped her knee. “Elphie, you are too funny! No, husbandry, as in, the art of finding a husband.”
“What in Oz name are you talking about?” Elphaba was fundamentally disturbed by the principle of a woman’s greatest achievement being her acquisition of a husband, and she remained grateful that her father had never pushed such expectations onto her or Nessarose.
“The only way my parents would let me attend college was if I promised to find a suitable husband. I convinced them that the bachelors of Pertha Hills weren’t nearly as eligible as the worldly ones I’d meet here.”
“Well, I suppose Fiyero is quite… eligible,” Elphaba admitted. Beyond his royal background, Fiyero’s footloose charisma would make for the perfect society husband. His strong shoulders and tender eyes were merely gratuitous attributes.
“Oh, he is the most eligible, which is why I have to take this courtship seriously!” Galinda popped up again, furiously filing through her clothing racks.
“Have you really thought this plan through?” Elphaba asked. “What happens when your parents find out you’ve been practicing witchcraft without their knowledge?”
Galinda held out her bare ring finger and twinkled it under Elphaba’s cautious gaze. “Hopefully, Fiyero will have proposed by then, and my parents will be so delighted that they won’t even mind my budding sorcery career!”
“Okay, but what if Fiyero has some secret arranged marriage we don’t know about?”
Galinda clutched a strand of pearls to her chest, scandalized. “Could that really be possible?!”
“I hear it’s not uncommon in the Vinkus for tribes to strengthen bonds through marriage,” Elphaba explained. It wasn’t her goal to dash Galinda’s romantic dreams, but she also didn’t want her to be heartbroken if Fiyero’s loyalties were to ultimately lie with another woman.
Galinda placed her hands on her hips defiantly. “Well, I’ll just have to make him fall so deeply in love with me that he forgets all about any prearranged allegiances.” Elphaba was extremely skeptical of that strategy, but she held her tongue.
“I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but Elphie, what would you wear if you were trying to inspire a man’s devotion?”
It was truly a ludicrous question, for Elphaba had no interest in romance or the art of seduction. Yet, she couldn’t stop her mind’s eye from conjuring the image of herself in a cotton nightgown made translucent from lake water.
“Something black, probably,” she answered instead. The girls laughed together until they wiped tears from their eyes.
“Ooh, I’m suddenly feeling inspired!” Galinda trilled. “Let this be a practice lesson for you in fashion cultivation. I want you to pick out my date night ensemble!”
Elphaba’s face blanched with dread. “I thought you said you wanted to marry Fiyero, not scare him away!”
“True, but I need a fresh perspective and I’m willing to take a risk!”
Feeling like she’d forgotten to study for a test, Elphaba timidly approached a clothing rack. She thumbed through the various garments, feeling uninspired by their cherubic monotony. Galinda looked beautiful no matter what rosy shade she donned, but Elphaba found that the pastels she often wore were almost too soft for Galinda’s creamy complexion. Her passion would burn brighter in something bolder.
A short magenta number caught her eye, and she ran her fingers across the tulle overlay, embroidered with pink and red poppies. Green vines with smaller blossoms cascaded up the silhouette, and Elphaba took note of how the thread color matched her skin perfectly.
“What about this one?” Elphaba asked as she held the dress up for her mentor’s appraisal.
Galinda’s eyes lit up and she squealed her approval. “I love it! It’s both darling and daring!”
She walked over to her shoe trunk, activating the spring mechanism to open it. “Now, tell me which shoes I should wear with this courting couture.”
Harnessing her analytical prowess, Elphaba examined the options, struggling to differentiate platforms from stilettos.
“I think these are nice,” she announced as she plucked a pair of pumps off the shelf. Elphaba held a pair of sparkling ruby red pumps in her hands, clicking the heels together for emphasis.
Galinda graciously took the slippers from her apprentice stylist and displayed them alongside the dress. “My, you have excellent taste, Miss Thropp.”
Elphaba was more proud of herself than she let on, consistently surprised to see how much she enjoyed Galinda’s validation.
She watched on as her roommate primped herself to perfection, a methodical routine she once found irritating but now respected. She only hoped Fiyero appreciated the effort Galinda was putting in to dazzle him.
With the final cinch of her corset and pinch of cheeks, Galinda was ready for a night of wooing. If he’d managed to arrive on time, Fiyero would be waiting outside the dormitory for her.
“How do I look?” Galinda asked with an uncharacteristic uncertainty in her voice.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” said Elphaba in earnest.
The deep blush that blossomed on Galinda’s cheeks rivaled the poppies on her dress. She couldn’t believe her prickly green girl had become so silky soft. She winked at Elphaba flirtatiously before turning to make her way out into the hall.
“Galinda,” Elphaba called out, “I know you want to fulfill your parents’ wishes, but you shouldn’t have to marry a boy just to pursue your dreams. If you want Fiyero, that’s wonderful, but just make sure you don’t compromise what brings you true happiness.”
“Oh, Elphie,” Galinda responded, reaching out to cradle her dear friend’s face. “I assure you, I couldn’t be happier!”
Fiyero couldn’t have looked handsomer in his evening jacket, the navy velvet embellished with clusters of atomic starbursts. A waxing crescent moon was woven onto the sleeve, the threaded moon beams shimmering as he waved to Galinda.
“I like your dress,” Fiyero said, knowing he should. Galinda responded with an appreciative twirl and a leg-flaunting toss toss.
“Why, thank you! If you can believe it, Elphie picked it out!” she said, giving her roommate her well-earned flowers. “Poppies are her favorite, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Fiyero perked up at the mention of Elphaba without meaning to. Taking his date’s hand, he tucked away thoughts of green girls and what types of flowers they preferred.
The pair strolled into town together, trotting up to the Florinthwaite Club just in time for their dinner reservation. Galinda used her patented eyebrow intimidation tactics to persuade the hostess to seat them at the center of the illustrious dining room. They could have their privacy later; Galinda wanted everyone to see how perfect they looked together.
Once drinks were ordered, they sat back in their cushioned seats to admire one another, leading to a mildly awkward silence.
“So…” Fiyero started with no intention of finishing.
“So!” Galinda echoed, sucking in a breath to help her carry the conversation.
“Isn’t this place just so Ozmopolitan? Apparently the Wizard dined here after the ribbon cutting ceremony for his monument on campus.”
“How thrillifying,” Fiyero said, peering up at the luminous chandeliers that decorated the ceiling. While he’d come to enjoy some of the finer offerings of Ozian society, he still struggled to understand its overstated opulence. Even their grandest dining room in the castle was modest by Gillikinese standards, and he felt like a pauper prince whenever he ventured into more “civilized” venues.
“I have to say, Fiyero, I think you’re the most well-traveled person I’ve ever met. I’ve always thought that being well-cultured was more admirable than just being educated on paper.” Galinda hoped she’d flattered him enough to engage him in an actual discussion.
“I’ve certainly learned more about life riding through the marshes of Quadling Country than I ever have in a classroom.”
“Now that’s actually thrillifying! It’s a dream of mine to visit all four quadrants of Oz before I die,” Galinda shared, realizing how sheltered she must seem.
“I venture a benevolent sorceress like yourself will have plenty of reasons to travel across the land doing good deeds and such.”
“Well, when the time comes, I’ll surely need a guide who knows how to charm the locals.” Galinda smiled at him suggestively, trying to plant the seeds of a future together.
“Oh, I think you’re charming enough all on your own. I’m actually curious though, what made you want to practice magic in the first place?” Fiyero asked, wondering why such a fair heiress would crave a more enchanted life.
She’d never been asked this before, and Galinda felt a spark of personal passion ignite within her.
“Ever since I played Preenella in my primary school Lurlinemas pageant, I’ve felt a call to sorcery. Bringing happiness to the weary with just the wave of a wand; I knew right then that that was my destiny. ”
“But in the story, Preenella was only the fae queen’s assistant, ” Fiyero challenged, “doesn’t she typically just hand out presents?”
“Yes, Preenella famously conjures gift-wrapped delights from her magic basket!” Galinda confirmed, agitated by her date’s dismissal of the fairy’s legacy.
“She may not have been as powerful as the queen, but her generous spirit still inspires joy throughout the land. Lurline is the face of the holiday, but Preenella is the heart and soul!”
Fiyero chuckled at Galinda’s attempt to logically defend a literal fairy tale. He’d long stopped believing that Lurline and Preenella were the ones dropping off presents at Kiamo Ko each year, but he appreciated how his mother still made a show of setting out their festive offerings.
He could imagine a tiny Galinda, distraught at having been passed over for a leading role, soothing herself by amplifying the minor fairy’s dramaturgical significance. However, it was hard to picture Galinda conceding top billing to anyone. Well, with one possible exception.
“Speaking of sorceresses, how are you and Elphaba handling horrible Morrible?”
For reasons he couldn't quite articulate, Fiyero harbored a healthy distrust of the distinguished dean, worrying that Morrible might one day try to exploit Elphaba’s abilities and Galinda’s ambition.
“Oh, she just adores Elphaba! I mean, of course she does; Elphie is the brightest star pupil you could ever hope for. But she treats me like I’m the rosy thorn in her side.”
Galinda’s frustration was obvious, but Fiyero was glad to see that it hadn’t devolved into resentment or jealousy.
“I’m sure you’ll win her over eventually. But if not, just remember that what a college professor thinks of you isn’t nearly as important as they want you to believe.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you keep attending universities if you don’t believe in the institution of higher education?” Galinda was shocked at herself for asking something so frank on a first date, but she’d been curious about Fiyero’s motives ever since he’d arrived at Shiz.
While he did look surprised by her probing, Fiyero figured she could handle an honest answer.
“It’s what my parents want. They have these grand ideas about me being some sort of diplomat to represent our people; championing our interests, securing our sovereignty, that sort of thing. They think college is the best way to integrate myself into ‘advantageous’ social circles.”
Galinda bit her lip to keep from squealing in delight. I’m exactly what he needs. We really do deserve each other.
“Yes, relationship building is so important,” she affirmed as she slid her hand across the table to stroke Fiyero’s forearm. “A degree is certainly a wonderful token of achievement, but your parents are right, connecting with good people will get you where you want to be.”
Fiyero scoffed at the suggestion. “The odds of anyone ever handing me a diploma are about as high as a house falling from the sky.”
“However would a house fall from the sky ?” Galinda asked, amusified by Fiyero’s harebrained hypotheticals.
“I actually have no idea, but then again, that’s not my skill set.” Galinda found his self-deprecation charismatic and only slightly concerning.
“Well, even if you don’t walk away from Shiz with a degree, you’ve got me, and all of my connections.” Galinda hoped that she was pitching herself well as a prospective partner for a prince with political aspirations. Fiyero’s leanings remained positively neutral.
“I’m glad to have the Galinda Upland in my corner.”
They ordered and ate their dinner with light conversation on the side, discussing things like music, weather, and the endearing eccentricities of Elphaba Thropp.
Somewhere along the way, Fiyero ended up retelling the story of his first meeting with the green girl in the foliage. However, he romanticized his rakishness and sensationalized her surliness. Galinda ate it up, finally understanding the roots of their squabbling.
When Fiyero described Feldspur’s role in the collision, it spurred Galinda to come up with an Animal anecdote of her own.
“I actually had a pony when I was child; he was the prettiest shade of gold, and I even dyed his mane pink once!”
“Oh, really?” Fiyero asked as he took a sip of wine. “What was your companion’s name?”
“His name? Um… hold on, I remember… it was something like… oh, TOULOUSE!”
“You must not have gotten to know each other that well.” It was clear to Fiyero that he and Galinda viewed Animals quite differently, but he tried not to judge her too harshly.
“He was pretty shy, not much of a conversationalist. So, we mostly stuck to riding.” Fiyero had never met a Horse who wasn’t talkative, unless they weren’t respected enough to be spoken to. He smiled tightly, but his eyes were penalizing, making Galinda feel uncomfortably imperfect.
“I think it’s wonderful that you and your Horse have such a strong camaraderie. It’s honestly inspiring!” Galinda exclaimed in an attempt to seem enlightened.
“Yes, Feldspur is truly the only steadfast relationship in my life.” He realized how depressing that was as soon as he confessed it, but he wasn’t ashamed of his bond with the Horse. Feldspur was far more than just a travel companion; he was one of the few creatures that really knew Fiyero beneath his princely veneer.
“I’d love to be the second one,” Galinda offered sweetly, aiming to outrank the Horse in Fiyero’s heart. He didn’t know how to respond to such a declaration of devotion, so he took her hand and kissed her knuckles to show his appreciation.
Their dinner finished, Fiyero paid their exorbitant bill, and let Galinda take his arm as he led them out of the restaurant and back towards campus. They walked in semi-comfortable silence, and as they entered into the dormitory’s main corridor, Fiyero leaned on the stairwell and nodded upwards.
“Do you want to, um… come up to my room for a bit?” He was trying to look suave, but he was surprised at how bashful he sounded, realizing that he’d never actually proposed intimacy to anyone while sober.
His date, ever the demure debutante, pretended to consider her chastity before smirking suggestively. “Why, I’d be delighted.”
Galinda and Fiyero had shared exactly two kisses in the week they’d known each other, and both had been under the influence of alcohol. Liquid courage had made her brave enough to initiate their first on the Ozdust dancefloor, and he’d kissed her in the canal as an apologetic distraction for pulling her in without permission.
They sat before each other on Fiyero’s settee, the awkward silence from dinner creeping back into the air between them. A gentleman at heart, he didn’t want to overwhelm Galinda by jumping her bones; he knew he should handle her with care, like a fragile piece of artwork.
He leaned in slowly, tipping her chin up to make her lips more accessible. The kiss was tender but rather chaste, and when Fiyero tried to deepen it, he could feel Galinda tense.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, ready to take things even slower if she needed to.
Galinda took a moment to consider her adolescent explorations, seeing visions of her slightly younger self, so naive and innocent and curious.
Clasped hands on garden strolls, matching flower crowns adorning their curls…
Debutante luncheons and dress fittings, cinching each other’s corsets with conviction…
Summertime sleepovers in her canopy bed, curtains of tulle concealing them from the outside world…
Friendly kisses on cheeks that became feathery pecks on lips…
“No… I haven’t.” It wasn’t a lie, Fiyero was the first boy she’d ever kissed.
She could feel him start to pull back, but that wouldn’t do. “But I want to!”
Galinda launched herself at her beau, wanting to see if kissing him could override those memories she’d worked so hard to forget. Sliding herself into Fiyero’s lap, he wrapped his arms around her more solidly.
She let him kiss her neck and run his hands up and down the green vines on her dress, trying her absolute best to enjoy the sensation of being caressed and canoodled. She kept her eyes wide open, not trusting who her imagination might picture if she were to close them.
They went at it for a while, venturing further into each other's mouths but never going beyond the surface of their clothes. Fiyero was nothing if not attentive, and despite the hardness she felt between her thighs, he never pushed her towards pleasuring him. When their heated kisses eventually simmered, Galinda concluded that making out with a boy was indeed pleasurable, if not a bit tedious.
She’d read in a ladies magazine to always leave a man wanting more, so she yawned theatrically and let him know how much she’d enjoyed their evening together. Rising from his lap, she straightened her dress before making her grand exit, blowing him a goodnight kiss as she went.
Galinda hadn’t expected Elphie to wait up for her, but she was warmed to see her lamp-lit form lounging with a book in bed. She waltzed towards her roommate and let out a contented sigh as she flopped down onto her mattress.
“How did it go? Did he like the dress?” Elphaba asked, curious to know if Fiyero had shown an appropriate reverence for her friend’s beauty.
“He did…” Galinda attested, stretching gracefully and cuddling up to Elphaba’s ankles. “I think he’s obsessed with me.”
If you made it this far, here's my chaotic, out of context inspo collage for this chapter!
As Elphaba wandered into the enchanted forest the next afternoon, she tried to count each tree as a means of steadying her anxious mind.
She still couldn’t believe that she’d accepted Fiyero’s proposal of mutual tutelage, the idea of venturing into water with him sounding more preposterous the longer she ruminated on it.
He and Galinda both had this uncanny way of getting whatever they wanted from her, and it disturbed Elphaba to her core. She’d spent her whole life feeling like she could never trust anyone, but now, whenever either of them smiled at her with sparkling, pleading eyes, she couldn’t help but relinquish all resistance.
When she finally broke through the veil of vines that separated the secluded little lake from the rest of the forest, she was immediately calmed by its tranquil beauty. The water was a cool tone of lapis, with a gentle, nonthreatening current, and the surface reflected the vivid vegetation that wreathed the shore.
Taking up part of the scenery was Fiyero, lounging against a log, but he immediately perked up when he spotted Elphaba approaching.
“You’re here! I was starting to think you might stand me up.”
“I would never, but those vague directions you gave me were confusifying. However did you discover this place?” Elphaba asked as she sat down beside him on the bank.
“Feldspur and I found it by accident on our way to Shiz! We’d actually just come from refreshing ourselves when we ran into you that night.”
Elphaba scoffed as she continued taking in the view. “I’m so glad to know you weren’t parched while you were running amuck.” When she noticed Fiyero looking guilty again, she smirked at him to show she was teasing.
“Speaking of being parched, I did bring some sustenance for our lessons,” Fiyero said as he reached into his satchel, pulling out two glass beverage bottles and an array of fruits, clearly stolen from the dining hall.
“How kind of you,” Elphaba remarked, pleasantly surprised by his thoughtfulness.
“Now, I wasn’t sure what to bring for my actual reading study, but I did manage to scrounge up a notebook and pencil.”
He held the items up with a boyish pride, and Elphaba realized that she’d never before seen him so eager or dedicated; it was as disquieting as it was attractive.
“I want to start by getting a better understanding of how you currently decipher words. How familiar are you with the 26 letters of the alphabet?”
“Believe it or not, Elphaba, I know my ABCs,” Fiyero responded with sarcastic ire. “However, I do struggle with the short versions whenever I try to read something.”
“You mean lowercase letters?”
“Yes! Those ones,” he confirmed. “I don’t understand why they have to look like a completely different shape just because they’re smaller!”
Elphaba fought back a giggle at his tirade, but remembered that she’d promised not to make fun of him.
“I can see how the lowercase forms can complicate things if your brain is already scrambling letters around. Until you’re more comfortable, we’ll just work with the uppercase set.”
Fiyero nodded his blessing, and Elphaba reached into the brush to retrieve a piece of broken branch.
“I’d first like you to write out the alphabet in the sand,” she instructed, passing the stick to her confused student.
“Why? I told you, I already know them!”
“And I believe you, but reading isn’t just about memorizing letters; it’s understanding the sounds they make so you can decode actual words. I used this technique to teach Nessa her letters when we were small, and it helped her learn much faster.”
Fiyero took a deep breath and got to work, scribbling out each glyph in the sand as Elphaba called them out. Once all 26 letters were etched into the shore, he sat back on his heels to admire his penmanship.
“Excellent, now I want to go through each of these and review their associated sounds.”
Elphaba picked up the branch and used it as a pointing baton, asking him to vocalize each letter as they went from “ahh” to “zzz.” Fiyero enunciated most of them confidently on the first try, but a few still tied up his tongue.
“You may not realize it, Fiyero, but you actually have a good foundational understanding we can build from.”
The prince was taken by her praise, unsure of how to react to someone complimenting his intellect. “You really think so?”
“Oh, I know so.” Her confidence in him felt a bit premature, but Fiyero felt it ease his fear of failure.
“Let’s try blending some letters into words,” Elphaba directed as she pulled out some teaching materials from her bag. Suddenly eager to seem studious, Fiyero hummed his readiness as he cracked the spine of his fresh notebook.
“Are you familiar with consonant-vowel-consonant words?” she asked, opening up a beginner’s guide for reading she’d checked out from the early education section of the library.
“You mean the simple ‘Cat sat on a mat’ type? Those are the only words I ever managed to read without the letters getting all jumbled.”
“So your brain gets confused when there are multiple vowels or consonants combined?”
“Exactly! I’ve never been able to process the sounds they’re supposed to make together, even more so when my brain is shuffling them around.”
“Interesting…” Elphaba mused as she picked up the branch again. She leaned over, writing out her name in the sand, separating it up by letter.
E-L-P-H-A-B-A
“ That’s how you spell your name?” Fiyero asked, his exasperation amusifying.
“Yes! Now write yours beside it.”
Fiyero huffed, taking the stick from her to inscribe his own name next to hers.
F-I-Y-E-R-O
“You’re lucky, Fiyero. Not everyone’s name can be a perfect pattern of consonants and vowels.”
Fiyero preened as Elphaba underlined the P-H and the F in their spellings. He couldn’t help but admire how nicely their names looked carved together in the sand.
“The fuh sound in your name comes just from the letter F—”
“—because that’s how it should be,” Fiyero interrupted.
Elphaba rolled her eyes but continued on with her point. “However, the fuh sound in my name is created with a blend of P and H. In linguification, when two letters combine to represent one sound, it’s called a digraph, another word with a P-H fuh sound!” She wrote out the term in the sand as an example.
“But why make it so complicated?” Fiyero argued. “A regular old F would work perfectly fine!”
“I’m only a sorcery major; I don’t know the reasoning behind every intricacy of our language. The principles of linguification are complex, even for me!”
“Elphaba Thropp, not knowing everything about everything ? I’m aghast!”
She shoved his arm playfully before reaching across him to grab an apple, munching it while she opened up her lesson book again. Flipping to a new page, she presented him with a spread of consonant blends, digraphs, and vowel teams.
“I want you to practice these letter combinations. You can write them in the sand, and we’ll break them down by sound together.”
They took their time going down each list, Elphaba all too patient with him whenever he tripped up on a letter pairing or a pronunciation, never once teasing or shaming him for making mistakes. As he watched her teach, Fiyero found Elphaba’s exuberance for education infectious, and it was giving him the chills.
After a while, Fiyero’s brain started to hurt from the exertion, but he was shocked to find that he didn’t want to stop learning.
“Would you be willing to read aloud to me for a bit?” he asked, his voice sounding more timid than he’d intended. Elphaba tilted her head in gracious bemusement, and it made him even more nervous.
“I just want to see if hearing words on a page in real time would help me decode them.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Fiyero,” said Elphaba. “It might be good for us to go through a real passage and identify the various letter combinations.”
Elphaba reached back into her bag and pulled out a well-loved children’s book, the green linen of the cover charmingly worn.
“This was one of my favorites when I was new to reading,” Elphaba said as she scooted closer to Fiyero so he could see the story. He was grateful to find the fading type printed in capital letters.
Elphaba read the opening passage in a melodic cadence, emphasizing each word as her finger danced across the page.
Lurline the Fae Queen was flying over sandy wastes when she spotted the green and lovely land of Oz below.
“Let’s look at the very first part of that sentence,” she said, holding the book closer to Fiyero and urging him to pick up his notebook.
“Can you tell me what combinations are present in ‘Lurline the Fae Queen’?”
Fiyero scanned over the text, furrowing his brow as he willed his brain to comply. Reaching over Elphaba’s outstretched forearms, he tentatively underlined the letters within the passage.
“There’s a T-H thuh, making THE, and a Q-U quh making QUEEN,” he cautiously asserted, looking to Elphaba for approval.
“You’re right!” she exclaimed, beaming. “Now, try the vowel teams.”
Glancing over the subject of the sentence again, he found himself stuck on a particular spelling.
“What’s the deal with that word?” Fiyero asked, pointing to the three-letter descriptor that preceded the Queen.
“Fae? That one is a bit special, with A-E making a long ay sound. The pairing is quite rare and really of two worlds, both a digraph and a vowel team.”
Fiyero wrote out the word in the sand next to Elphaba’s name, committing them both to memory.
F-A-E | E-L-P-H-A-B-A
A rare pairing indeed.
“You must actually be fae, because I think I understand it.”
“Really? Fiyero, that’s wonderful!” Elphaba voiced with glee, smiling brightly at his success. Fiyero had never had a tutor act this proud of him, especially not for an objectively small scholarly victory.
“I’m not saying I’m ready to read a sonnet or anything, but the letters I’m seeing are slowly starting to match the sounds I’m hearing.”
“No, but it’s a good sign! Would you like to keep going?”
She had him finish out the rest of the passage, picking out the various pairings and repeating the sounds back to her, encouragerizing him through the trickier words. Elphaba brought their lesson to a close by shutting the book and letting out a satisfied sigh.
“How do you feel?” she asked, hoping that he felt as proud of himself as she was of his progress.
“Like going for a swim,” he responded with a relaxed smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Fiyero had worn his swimming clothes underneath his Shiz uniform, a snug bodysuit with a wide neck that exposed the majority of his chest.
They’d gone behind respective trees to change, and Fiyero eventually began toying with an overgrown fern to distract himself from imagining his leafy associate in a state of undress.
“Are you decent?” an anxious voice called out from across the lakefront.
“Not generally, but for you, I’ll try.”
Fiyero laughed at his own wit as he emerged from the treeline, only to stop short when he caught sight of Elphaba.
“Are you wearing a nightgown?”
The light cotton fabric was loose-fitting on her petite frame, but its sleeveless neckline exposed her upper chest and arms. He’d never seen so much of her lush skin before, and it definitely did not blend with the foliage; she transcended it.
“Well, it’s not like I had a reason to own a swimming costume!” Elphaba cried, clearly self-conscious as she crossed her sinewy arms and turned away from him.
“Hey, it’s alright. Your nightgown is fine!” he assured her as he strode towards the water’s edge. “We’re not doing anything intense today anyway.”
Fiyero casually waded beyond the shoreline, turning to see Elphaba still firmly docked on the bank.
“Before I get in this water, I need to know what actually qualifies you to act as a swimming instructor.”
Fiyero chuckled, resting his hands on his hips to assert his fitness. “Well, just like you taught your little sister how to spell, I taught mine how to swim.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a sister!” Elphaba said, intrigued by this novel entry into Fiyero’s personal history. He grinned with a grave warmth, surprised at himself for revealing such a dear detail of the life he’d left behind.
“Her name is Nor. She’s twelve years old, a total spitfire, and, dare I say, the strongest swimmer in our village—under my influence, of course.”
Elphaba suddenly felt guilty for not having asked about Fiyero’s family, seeing as he’d so graciously listened to her ramble about her own. She’d admittedly thought of him as some sovereign prince free from familial bonds, but the discovery of his brotherhood foiled that caricature.
Fiyero held his hands out to gently beckon her into the water. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
Elphaba took a few tentative steps in, letting the waves creep up over her toes. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before slowly meeting him in the shallows. As they stood before each other, water up to their calves, Fiyero decided to refocus her attention away from fear.
“You know, ever since you mentioned her, I’ve been curious to know more about your Dulcibear. What made her a good nanny?” Fiyero asked.
Elphaba quirked her eyes at his random question, as it had nothing to do with the aquatic arts, but a rush of fond memories quickly outshined her skepticism.
“Well, aside from her excellent nursing skills, she tried to fill our days with as much whimsy and warmth as she could muster,” Elphaba described with a smile.
“Father was always hosting dignitaries or taking meetings, so one of Dulcibear’s main tasks was to keep us ‘entertained’ or at least—”
“—out of the way?” Fiyero finished, his contempt towards the Governor of Munchkinland growing with each new anecdote of his parenting style. Elphaba confirmed with a nod.
“She would set up these elaborate picnics for us on the grounds, setting out pillows and flowers, and arranging our dolls to act as tea party guests! Sometimes she’d even make a fort out of our lace curtains and read storybooks to us while we ate cake.”
Fiyero smiled at her rendering, relieved to learn that Elphaba’s childhood hadn’t been entirely wicked and full of sorrow.
“That Lurline book was her favorite to read to us. Both she and my mother were actually devout Lurlinists, but Father considered it to be a paganistic pleasure faith,” she explained, "so as Governor, he pushed Munchkinland towards Unionism.”
“Your father sounds like a real treat,” Fiyero quipped, his acidic tone an act of solidarity Elphaba chose to take comfort in.
Pausing to take in their surroundings, Elphaba realized that they had drifted further out into the lake, and she was now submerged to the waist. She instinctively used Fiyero as her buoy, latching onto his biceps before she could overthink the closeness.
“Were you just trying to distract me so I wouldn’t notice how deep we’ve gone?!”
“I succeeded, didn’t I?” he boasted as he gently nudged Elphaba’s elbow, urging her to fully wrap her arms around his shoulders. They were still in shallow enough water to stand, but the flowing waves around them were unsteadying without something, or someone, to hold on to.
Fiyero felt compelled to clarify his motives so as to not lose her confidence. “I just wanted you to get used to the feeling of being out here without worrying over every step.”
A small ripple came up against Elphaba’s back, causing her to shudder and shrink into him, a meek little whimper escaping her lips.
“Elphaba, look at me.”
Her emerald eyes were full of uncertainty, almost childlike in their worry, and Fiyero felt a surge of protectiveness rise within him.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you out here, alright? You are safe with me.”
His tone was so tender that Elphaba couldn’t help but feel soothed by his presence.
“Now, you’ve already conquered the first step, which is getting in! Do you feel steady enough to go out a little deeper?”
She did not, but if she could keep holding on to Fiyero, she was willing to try. Elphaba let him guide her closer to the center of the lake, almost to chest level, but not so far out that they couldn’t feel the grainy land beneath them.
“The next feat is facing the actual water, literally.” He pulled away from Elphaba, much to her chagrin, to demonstrate the appropriate technique.
“I want you to dip your face in, chin first, then nose, then full face, just deep enough to blow bubbles, like this.”
Fiyero carefully submerged his handsome face below the surface, his head quickly surrounded by a rippling surge of bubbles. When he rose out of the water, he was thrilled by the sight of Elphaba giggling at the ridiculous exercise.
“See? There’s nothing to be scared of! Do you want to try?”
He talked her through the sequential submerging, reminding her to breathe before she fully soaked her senses. As she exhaled to blow bubbles, the silliness overshadowed her lingering panic, and when she came up for air, Fiyero’s attentive smile was almost enough to make her forget her fears altogether.
They kept practicing breath control, Elphaba gaining more confidence each time she went under, and Fiyero feeling more inspired by her braverism.
“Are you ready to attempt floating?” he asked, relaxing into the water to demonstrate the placid position. Elphaba couldn’t help but admire how beautiful his form was.
She stood in the water, looking up to Fiyero for guidance. He nodded down at her, confirming that she felt comfortable, and placed a hand on the small of her back.
“Just let yourself slowly fall backwards; I’ve got you.”
She hesitated for a moment before she closed her eyes and gave in to gravity, Fiyero’s steady hand keeping her centered.
“Now try to keep your legs in line with the surface; that’s it.”
He supported her as she shifted to fully lie on top of the water, once again reminding her to breathe.
“You’re doing it, Elphaba! Now let yourself relax into the water while keeping yourself afloat.”
“You’re not going to let go, are you?” Elphaba asked with a tinge of terror, and Fiyero could feel her torso start to tense under his palm.
“Of course not, I’m right here.”
Once Elphaba was soothed enough to shut her eyes, Fiyero became distracted by the sight of her body being cradled by the surface. Her damp nightgown clung to every curve, and her green skin was ethereal against the deep blue of the lake; she was the very image of a serene water sprite.
When he glanced back at her face, the sprite was watching him intently, and Fiyero could feel a deep blush creeping onto his cheeks. Trying not to panic, he hastily guided her back to an upright position.
“I think you’ve conquered enough aquatic feats for today. How are you feeling about water so far?” Fiyero asked as he slowly began walking backwards towards the shore.
“It’s not nearly as frightening as it was half an hour ago,” Elphaba admitted dryly, following Fiyero closely in case she lost her footing.
When they landed on the lakeside, Fiyero scrambled to retrieve some towels from his stash, not wanting Elphaba to feel any more exposed in her dampness. She graciously accepted the plush covering and retreated behind her tree to redress.
After they dried and changed, they gathered their belongings and left the lake behind.
“I had a feeling you would take well to the water,” Fiyero claimed as they walked along the forest path, their damp towels draped over his shoulder.
Elphaba’s lips turned upwards into a smirk, still shocked that her first venture into water hadn't actually been deadly.
“And I had a feeling you’d be far more studious than you let on!”
“Well, I have you to thank for that. In all my years of failed studies, not one tutor ever demonstrated the passion, or the patience, you’ve shown me in a single afternoon, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.”
His gratitude would have seemed out of character if he hadn’t been such a gracious teacher himself. “You’re very welcome, Fiyero. And I appreciate your aquatic aptitude just as much.”
They shared a chuckle as they continued on, Fiyero joking that with his guidance, she could become an ultra-powerful swimming sorceress.
“I wouldn’t be surprised; you are quite magical, Miss Fae.”
“Fae?” Elphaba asked, puzzled by the rather whimsical moniker.
Elphaba comes clean about her aversion to water, and Fiyero makes her an offer.
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*pov: you're reading about Elphaba Thropp's childhood trauma*
As Fiyero slept, his dreams ran wild with dreadful scenarios that could justify Elphaba’s combative relationship with water. By the time he woke the next morning, several fragmentary theories had developed in his mind.
Had she fallen overboard in a tragic boating accident? Did she get swept away in some terrible flash flood? Or worst of all, could Boq actually be right in thinking it was an allergy?
He hated the thought of water physically hurting her, and she’d run away too quickly for him to see if a splash had left any marks or burns on her lush skin. Even if it hadn’t actually brought her bodily harm, Fiyero knew his recklessness had still caused her pain.
In spite of his hangover, Fiyero went searching for Elphaba, foregoing breakfast in favor of what he truly hungered for— her testimony. Meandering across campus, he hoped to find her alone in her natural habitat.
The library was far more crowded than he thought appropriate for a Sunday, and Fiyero’s brain itched just looking at the firmly planted students in their garden of intellect.
Even amongst the bluebells in Shiz uniforms, the pretty foliage in the back corner stood out to him. She appeared unscathed from a distance, but he’d have to get closer to uncover any deeper scars.
Fiyero approached her study table and knocked on it softly to lure her out of her reading, trying his best not to startle her for once.
“Good morning, Elphaba, would you mind if I joined you?”
Looking up from her book, she appraised him with skepticism before nodding her consent. Smiling like a fool, Fiyero quickly threw his leg over the bench and settled down across from her.
“What brings you to the library, Mister Tigelaar?” asked Elphaba as she picked up her quill to jot down some notes. Fiyero had planned to lead with more small talk, but found himself unable to beat around even a single bush.
“I want to apologize for what happened last night at the dock.”
Elphaba paused her writing to look at him, puzzled but clearly intrigued.
“I’ll admit my drunken shenanigans go too far sometimes, and you made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want to join in. It wasn’t my intent to pressure you or make you feel unsafe, but I’m sorry that I did.”
Elphaba was fairly certain that this was the first verbal apology she’d ever received for anything and found herself at a loss for how to respond to one.
“Um… thank you? I… ugh… accept your apology. I do want to say that I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s fun, but I just don’t do well with, um—” She cut herself off, clearly hesitant to confess her justification.
Though Fiyero had planned to go about it more delicately, she was a deep river of mystery, and he couldn’t help but dive right in.
“Elphaba, why are you so afraid of water?”
She stared at him like he was holding a weapon, a flicker of fear igniting in her eyes.
“I’m afraid that’s none of your business,” she replied defensively, retreating into the safety of her textbook to avoid interrogation.
Elphaba’s constant attempts to ignore him just made Fiyero even more desperate for her attention, and this time was no different. He pushed her book down gently and leaned in closer so she couldn’t shut him out.
“I promise I’m not trying to upset you; I just want to understand.”
Prince Fiyero Tigelaar, wanting to understand something? Maybe he had caught a disease in that canal .
Elphaba studied him for a moment, her lips pouting in frustration. She hadn’t thought him capable of curiosity, but his earnest concern was too disarming to disregard.
“It’s really a long story, and I’m sure you’d get bored halfway through,” she deflected, hoping to avoid the subject of her aquatic quandary.
“Oh, but I’m sure you’re a gifted storyteller,” Fiyero challenged tenderly, eager to serve as her captive audience.
She considered their standings. For reasons Elphaba still wasn’t sure of, he’d trusted her to keep his most sacred secret. Thus, she supposed she could let him hold on to one of hers . If only to even the score of mutual discretion.
“I suppose I should start by filling you in on my family history,” she began with a resigned sigh, steeling herself to retell her tragic backstory.
“When my mother was pregnant with Nessarose, my father made her chew milk flowers day and night to try to prevent this situation from happening again.”
She stroked her jawline with satiric vanity, but Fiyero didn’t find her self-deprecation amusifying. He was still struggling to understand how anyone could see her greenness as a flaw.
“However, it made her come too soon, and the labor was very troublesome. When baby Nessa finally arrived, she was far too small, and her little legs were all tangled.”
“They wouldn’t let me in the room, so I’d been watching it all happen from the hallway. My mother lost consciousness during the birth, and the nurses tried to revive her as best they could, but she never woke up.”
Fiyero tried to think of something comforting to say, only managing a sympathetic nod before Elphaba continued.
“As you can imagine, my father was distraught, and when he saw me standing in the doorway, he flew at me and claimed that I was the reason my mother was dead and my sister was deformed.”
Fiyero huffed with raw resentment. “I hope you know that’s not true, Elphaba. Your father had no right to blame his mistakes on an innocent child.”
“I know,” said Elphaba. “Galinda said the same thing when I told her what happened . ”
She was quietly heartened by the way they’d both taken such offense on her behalf.
“Anyway, I sunk into a deep melancholy after her passing. I was already a shy child, but the grief just made me even more withdrawn. By the time Nessa was a year old, I still hadn’t come around, and my nanny, Dulcibear, became concerned about my ‘social well-being.’”
“I’m curious, what type of bear is she?” Fiyero questioned with a grin, hoping to lighten their heavy conversation.
“Dulcibear is from a highly skilled clan of brown bears, if you must know,” Elphaba replied, prepared to defend her nanny’s credibility.
“Ah, I figured. Brown bears are quite the compassionate sort. I’m sure she tried to protect you like she would her own cub.” Elphaba was surprised by his affectionate tone, unaccustomed to others speaking of Animal caregivers with such regard.
“Yes, she was the closest thing I had to a mother growing up,” she confirmed with a solemn fondness.
“We were so sheltered at Colwen Grounds, and baby Nessarose wasn’t exactly a suitable playmate at the time, so Dulcibear took it upon herself to remedy my lackluster socialization.”
“But how does that connect to you being afraid of water?” asked Fiyero.
“I’m getting to it! I tried to warn you that this was a long story! Now hush so I can finish rehashing my childhood trauma.”
“Sorry, sorry! Please continue; I promise to not interrupt.”
Fiyero gave her his most encouragerizing smile, and Elphaba let it coax her back into vulnerability.
Then, for the first time in her life, the green girl came clean about her aversion to water.
19 YEARS EARLIER
Elphaba was four years old when it happened.
Dulcibear had inquired around the village to find out where Munchkin children played and mingled, hoping to give her precious little one the chance to make some desperately needed friends.
It was Elphaba’s very first time venturing out of Colwen Grounds, her father keen on keeping her hidden so as not to distress his constituents. Thus, when her nanny arranged for them to sneak out, the secluded little girl embraced the opportunity for adventure.
Making their way through greater Munckinland, Dulcibear was emboldened by the sight of a smile blooming on Elphaba’s face as she took in the flowery landscape. Her bright smiles had become all too rare in the wake of her mother’s passing, and the Bear was determined to help her discover the essential joys of youth.
Elphaba held Dulcibear’s paw as they entered through the gates of a rather shaggy patch of land and up to the stoop of a dark stone cottage. Its occupant, a rather turnipy spinster with burnt ginger features, was hunched over shucking tulip bulbs.
“Good day, you must be Gawnette,” said Dulcibear brightly. “You come well recommended for looking after little ones. I was hoping that my Elphaba could join your pupils.” She gently urged the girl out from behind her leg, letting the sitter assess her.
“Sweet Lurline, what they say is true!” squawked Gawnette, clutching her ruddy cheeks as she waddled off the stoop. “I thought it was merely ripe gossip, but here she is, a froggy ferny cabbage indeed!”
The little cabbage in question looked up at her nanny with wide eyes, disturbed by the old maid’s cantankerous candor.
“Yes, the girl is green, but she’s as good as any other child.”
Dulcibear smiled lovingly at her young charge before stepping away towards Gawnette, requiring a moment of frankness Elphaba wouldn’t hear.
“Seeing as the good people of Nest Hardings are so up on the scuttlebutt, I’m sure you’re aware that we’re still mourning the loss of our dear Melena Thropp.”
Dulcibear nodded to Melena’s offspring, hoping to appeal to Gawnette’s alleged compassion for children.
“Our little Fabala’s taken it especially hard, and as you can see, she’s as frightened as a spring Turtle. She’s clearly unhappy in her shell, but I’m at a loss for how to draw her out. So, I’m asking you to let her play and learn from the other children to see if it infects her with a sense of joy.”
A mess of Munchkin tots were scampering around Gawnette’s muddy yard in a feral little pack. Though they kept playing some game of endurance or make-believe, they’d slowed their roughhousing enough to gawk at the funny new green girl .
“I don’t know if they’d take to her,” said Gawnette, glancing at her wild whelps. “They’re a rowdy bunch, and your fern sprout seems more like the delicate type.”
“Oh, on the contrary, she’s got strong roots,” Dulcibear argued, pulling out a few coins from her purse.
“I’ll happily compensate you for a trial afternoon of care,” the Bear insisted, dropping the gold pieces into Gawnette’s rapidly receptive grasp.
Dulcibear bent down to tend to her anxious sprout. “Alright, my pretty. I’ve got to get back to your baby sister, but I’ll return later to get you. Play nicely now, and have yourself some fun!”
As Elphaba watched Dulcibear depart, the pack of tykes approached, circling their fresh prey.
“What an ugly little Frog,” declared their alpha, an older boy named Crope. The others began ribbiting in agreement, but the green girl was unfazed, not yet acquainted enough with amphibians to understand the insult.
“I bet she hops around like one too!” wagered a snotty freckled girl, bouncing on her heels. This gave Crope a devilish idea.
“Yeah, c’mon little Frog, let’s see how you leap.”
The boy began jumping up and down, inspiring his playmates to follow suit. The pack started hopping away towards a crude little watering hole on Gawnette’s land, motioning for their new pet to join in on the game. Not knowing better, Elphaba sprung after them.
Crouching down by the pond’s edge, the boy pointed at a small army of Toads making camp on a bed of lily pads.
“Look everyone, it’s Elphaba’s extended family!” This set the group off in a fit of vicious giggles as they pulled the little green girl to the front of the pack.
“Why don’t you hop in for a visit, little Frog?” Crope asked with a sinister grin.
Elphaba stared at the Toads, utterly befuddled by the suggestion that they could be related. She was too distracted by their warty features to notice Crope creeping up to push her headfirst into the water.
Her small body crashed into the shallow pond so suddenly that Elphaba didn’t even have time to cry out before her lungs were flooded with gritty backwash.
Her natural instincts kicked in just enough to bring her head up for oxygen, and she could hear the pack howling in delight through her waterlogged ears. She tried to stand, but slipped about on the muddy shore, giving her tormentor the chance to shove her back under the surface.
“Slimy green Frogs belong in the water, don’t they?” Crope called out as he kept submerging Elphaba’s head beneath the slushy waves. As a kindness, he gave her a few precious moments in between each dunking to gasp for air.
The other children screeched as they watched the tadpole wriggle and struggle against Crope’s forceful hand. The smaller tots had previously fallen victim to Crope’s aggressive rollicking, so they were happy to see someone else become his plaything.
By the fourth round of dunking, Elphaba could feel herself starting to lose the battle, her physical form too weak and disoriented to combat a veteran bully.
However, her arcane ability to manipulate gravity was best activated by peril, so when Elphaba was next given the chance to inhale, a wave of unseen magic exhaled out of her with a scream.
The body of water around her rose up and away from her own, crashing backward over Crope and the other rascals, drenching them in a karmic deluge.
The Toads stood guard on their lily pads, no longer floating but stagnant on the wallow of mud. Elphaba knelt down in the muck to pay her respects, holding out her tiny palm for the sergeant Toad to hop into.
“Thank you, Miss Elphaba,” the Toad croaked out, “those brats have pestered us for far too long. Are you alright?” Unable to summon words in the aftershock, Elphaba merely nodded, her wet curls dripping with contempt.
“What in Oz name is going on here?” shouted a raddled Gawnette as she lumbered up to the soggy scene. Elphaba refused to speak, keeping close company with her newfound froggy family.
“We were admiring the Toads and the green girl fell in the pond! We were just trying to help her get out when she rose the water up against us with her vile magic!” Crope cried, soaked and shivering extra hard to sell his lie. His cronies corroborated his tall tale, bobbing their damp ginger heads in accord when Gawnette questioned them.
Reaching into the wallow, she pulled Elphaba out by her arm and stomped back to the cottage, dropping the girl down onto the stoop.
“You will sit here and shuck bulbs with me until that obese Bear of yours comes back to fetch you!” Gawnette muttered expletives as she settled back into her chore, glaring at the wilted cabbage as she worked.
When Dulcibear finally trotted through the gates hours later, Elphaba leapt off the stoop and sprinted into her embrace. Distraught to see her little one shaken and filthy, the Bear demanded to know what had happened.
“Oh, you’ve got a rotten apple in that one! I won’t have her terrorizing my chicks ever again! That child is a menace to the community, and you’d do well to have those dark powers of hers exorcised!”
Having had enough of the shrew’s abuse, Duclibear scooped Elphaba into her arms and scampered off the property and back towards the solitude of Colwen Grounds.
True to his word, Fiyero listened quietly while Elphaba told her tale, too horror-stricken to cut in with quips or questions.
“So they never got in trouble for trying to drown you?!” he asked, bitter rage bubbling in his throat.
“No. I doubt Gawnette would have believed me if I’d tried to tell her the truth,” Elphaba reasoned, feeling oddly at peace after her confession.
“But what about Dulcibear? Surely, she would have!”
“I never told her what really happened either; I didn’t want her to feel even more guilty for sending me to that place.”
Fiyero was in awe of Elphaba’s ability to respond to cruelty with compassion.
“So you’ve been afraid of water ever since?”
“Oh, after that day, I refused to go near it! I’d pitch a fit anytime Dulcibear tried to give me a bath, and even her saint-like patience eventually ran thin. She resorted to washing me with scented oils just to prevent me from fully ripening.”
Fiyero could easily envision a stubborn little Elphaba fleeing from bathtime like a feral wildling. However, the rebelliously charming image was spoiled when he remembered why.
“Well, for the record, I think you smell lovely,” Fiyero said without thinking of the implifications.
Elphaba blushed before she could stop herself, remembering what Galinda had told her about accepting compliments. “Why, thank you. I’ll admit, I still prefer bathing with the oils.”
Whenever she’d let him close enough, Fiyero had secretly savored her distinct essence, a blend of eucalyptus with a hint of spearmint. He briefly imagined a very adult Elphaba slicking her body with fragrant potions, but forced himself to focus on the clothed version of her in front of him.
“I did eventually grow out of my war with the bathtub, but Crope and his cronies kept attacking me for most of my childhood. Rumors spread about my aversion to water, and they loved to remind me how badly I needed a wash.”
When Fiyero looked at her questioningly, Elphaba cleared her throat and broke out into an acidic melody.
“Elphaba Thropp, green on top; someone run and tell her that everyone can smell her!”
Fiyero screwed his nose up in disgust. “Bold of them to call you smelly with such reeking lyricism!” Elphaba laughed so hard it transformed into a snort, which quickly had them both in stitches.
Dodging dirty looks from the other library patrons, Fiyero marveled at her smile, happy to have given her a reason to after she’d willingly opened old wounds for him.
“Elphaba, I really am so sorry that happened to you,” he began, shaking his head with remorse. “If I had known, I never would have tried to—”
“But Fiyero, you didn’t know! I don’t resent you at all for trying to include me in your fun.”
Elphaba’s forgiveness was just as life-affirming as her smile, but Fiyero couldn’t suppress the need to fully earn her trust.
“I’m assuming you never learned how to swim?” he asked, an idea floating to the surface of his mind.
“I observed Nessa’s swimming lessons from a very safe distance, but that was the one topic I had no interest in learning.”
“Would you let me try to teach you?”
Elphaba was stunned by his suggestion, and his use of her own phrasing. Evening the score of mutual discretion was one thing, but the thought of tutoring each other was as frightening to her as it was intriguing.
“Are you suggesting reading lessons in exchange for swimming instruction?”
Fiyero crossed his arms to show how serious he was about his offer, figuring a persuasive flex of biceps couldn’t hurt.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind. We could meet by the lake for lessons and split our time evenly; you teach me, I’ll teach you.”
“I can’t believe you are trying to convince me to learn something new,” Elphaba aired with a poorly restrained grin.
“Oh, I think we’re going to discover a lot about each other, Miss Studious.”
Galinda beings her sorcery lessons and a charmed circle takes shape.
Previous Chapters:
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Galinda Upland’s new beau and bosom friend had tragically abandoned her.
With Dr. Dillamond’s impromptu absence, she’d planned to properly introduce Elphaba onto the social scene and savor more of Fiyero’s flirtatious advances—a perfectly productive use of class time in Galinda’s opinion.
Before she could tuck them both under her rosy wings, they’d flown the coop, Elphie moralizing about academic responsibility as she led Fiyero out of the lecture hall. He’d glanced back at her as he went, and they’d exchanged sardonic pouts of despair at their separation. She pitied him, but that’s what he got for sitting next to the bookworm instead of her.
Galinda hoped he would daydream of her while Elphie coerced him into studying.
She spent the hour catching up on gossip and nail maintenance, yawning in agitated boredom whenever Pfannee or Shenshen tried to insert themselves into the conversation. Galinda had finally seen their true colors at the Ozdust, and they were so last year. If she had anything to do with it, green was about to be the season’s trend.
Excusing herself from her constituents, Galinda trotted out of Briscoe Hall and past the library, bouncing up the stairs to the technicolor terrace at the edge of campus. The kinetic wind sculpture above reflected a rainbow onto her complexion, and she basked in the light, hoping to absorb some of its magic.
She pulled her training wand out of her satchel and gave it a firm tap to wake it up. The baton had betrayed her with its refusal to conjure up a gown for Elphie, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Madame Morrible at her first seminar session.
Galinda was thrillified beyond words to finally start learning sorcery. If Elphaba hadn’t advocated for her admittance, Galinda’s great ambition would have remained a far-fetched fantasy. She’d yet to properly express her gratitution, still ashamed of the deceitful act of generosity that inspired her roommate’s endorsement. She was determined to make it up to Elphie, even if she never figured out how to transform that simple froat of hers into a magnificent ballgown.
If it was the last thing she did, she would help Elphaba Thropp embrace her clandestine beauty.
However, it wasn’t enough for Elphie to believe in her; she also had to evoke faith from Madame Morrible, a daunting task that Galinda felt woefully unprepared for. Thus, she practiced her flicking and flitting to get a feel for the instrument, manifesting even an ounce of enchantment. The sudden chime of the Time Dragon Clock broke her feverish focus, and she scurried to Madame Morrible’s private study, wishing she could whimsically float from place to place so as to not break a sweat.
When Galinda arrived, Elphaba was already perched at the center table, conversing with Morrible as if they were dear colleagues. The sorceress smiled tenderly at her prize pupil, and Galinda was bewildered by her warm demeanor, accustomed to the icier facade she reserved just for her. She knocked gently on the door to announce herself, and Morrible’s smile faded.
“Oh, it’s you, Miss Upland. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually accept my offer.”
Galinda gulped. “Yes, Madame Morrible, I’m honored by the chance to learn from you,” she assured her, “and to study alongside someone as naturally gifted as my roommate.” Her roommate’s eyes lit up at the compliment, but Morrible was unmoved.
“Very well, take a seat, child. We haven’t got all day.” Galinda scrambled onto a stool beside Elphaba, whipping out her training wand and a pink notebook as a show of dedication to her craft. Elphaba restrained a giggle as Morrible began her lesson.
“As you’re well aware, true magical ability has been in short supply in recent years, forcing me to search far and wide for new talent,” explained the professor, placing a proud hand on the green girl’s shoulder. “Thankfully, fate led Miss Elphaba to my tutelage, and she’s been making great progress in the art of levitation. At this rate, I see her someday serving alongside the Wizard as a formidable enchantress.”
Morrible then turned a skeptical eye toward Galinda. “What exactly do you hope to accomplish with your thaumaturgical pursuits, Miss Upland?”
She had not been expecting such a panoramic question this early on in her studies. “Um… I haven’t really thought about a specific specialty… but I know I want to help people with my magic!” It was vague and lacking in substance, but she hoped her enthusiasm would legitimize her intentions.
“How good of you,” Morrible hailed with clear condescension, “but a desire to help those in need is not enough. A proper sorceress must have intrinsic power she can then harness for a greater purpose.”
With a swish of her ornate skirts, Morrible drifted across the room to the open windows. She snapped her wrist and thrust out her palm with conviction, summoning a deafening clap of thunder from the clouds above. The girls looked out in awe as the clear day transformed into a drizzly scene. Morrible was humored by their astonishment.
“Weather is my specialty. I’ve received many awards in weatherfication for my work, making sure each region of Oz receives the appropriate conditions to thrive. Without interference, we could descend into another one of those dreadful droughts you learned about in history class. There must be magic behind your motivation, understand?”
The wannabe witches nodded their heads emphatically, their admiration palpable.
Dismissing the inclement weather as quickly as she’d compelled it, Morrible approached her students with intimidating authority.
“You,” she pointed to Galinda sharply, “stand up and let me see how you use that training wand. It may be naturally infused with enchantment, but the user must let their own magic run through it to cast a proper spell.”
Galinda rose obediently and gripped her wand with jittery hands. “What would you like me to do, Madame?”
Morrible looked around the study, zeroing in on the flower perched behind Elphaba’s ear. She plucked it stiffly from her hairline and held it out towards Galinda with a harsh grip.
“Turn this ranunculus into a rose.”
Galinda and Elphaba exchanged covert expressions of horror at the request. The flower herself seemed to tremble in fear within Morrible’s grasp.
Despite her nerves, Galinda spoke up. “But Madame Morrible, you don’t understand. That flower is special to—”
“I didn’t ask you to argue; I told you to transform the flower.”
Galinda looked to Elphie for consolation, and her roommate nodded with restrained sorrow. She felt nauseous as she watched Galinda wind herself up in an attempt to get the wand to cooperate.
How could Morrible expect Galinda to pull off a transformative enchantment on her very first day of training? For Oz sake, Elphaba had been practicing levitating a coin for three weeks!
“Rose!” Galinda commanded as she wildly wound the wand around the stem. As much as she wanted to prove herself to Morrible, she concealed a sigh of relief when their dear ranunculus maintained its true form.
The professor waved her palm with contempt and tossed the flower to the floor. “Enough with the theatrics, child. Sit down.” Galinda swiped up the bundle of petals before returning to her stool, cradling it tenderly as she braced herself for feedback.
“Miss Upland, let me make myself clear,” started Morrible as she gestured to Elphaba. “Your most charitable classmate apparently sees something in you that I currently do not—the possession of any real power or mystical inclinations whatsoever.”
Galinda Upland had never experienced a harsher humbling, and the professor’s assessment stung like a strike to the cheek. She blinked tears away as she tossed her hair, hoping to retain even a glimmer of her dignity.
Elphaba was taken aback by Madame Morrible’s brutal phrasing. She’d been nothing but patient and encouragerizing towards her in their seminar thus far, and she had hoped Morrible would have extended the same grace to Galinda. She fought the urge to argue on behalf of her friend’s potential, but found herself too meek to defy the dean sorceress.
Reaching past Galinda, Morrible selected a volume from the stack on the table, dropping it into her lap unceremoniously. She read the title, How to Awaken the Witch Within You, gasping at the implied possibilities.
“You want to become a good witch, Miss Upland? Start by unlocking the supernatural forces within you. Who knows? Maybe some actual talent will emerge in the process.”
Galinda clutched the book to her chest and beamed with understanding. “I will, Madame Morrible! I’ll find my inner magic, I promise!”
She looked to Elphie for reassurance and was bolstered by the squeeze of her palm.
“I think that’ll be all for today, ladies,” Morrible concluded with a weary wave, “I was out far too late last night at a rather wicked ballroom.” She winked at the girls with a hint of mischief, and dismissed them.
Once they were safe in the hallway, Galinda returned the ranunculus to its rightful place.
Fiyero lounged impatiently on a bench while he waited for Galinda and Elphaba to emerge from Morrible’s seminar. After that revelatory study session, he’d gone to visit Feldspur at the stables to ease his mind and debrief his equine companion on all things Ozdust.
The Horse had been happy to let his prince ramble about his adventures, but he’d been especially pleased to learn more about that lovely, feisty lady from the foliage. Fiyero had kept remembering reasons to rant about the green girl, and Feldspur was puzzled by the diametric ways he’d described her demeanor, somehow both aggravating and alluring. Human nature was forever confusing to him, so he didn’t question the prince’s preoccupation.
Fiyero was on the verge of a nap when Elphaba and Galinda finally emerged onto the quad hand in hand, the very picture of harmonious partnership.
They work well as a pair, Fiyero thought as he met them halfway.
“My budding sorceresses! How’d it go?” Fiyero asked. Galinda had filled him in on the origins and purpose of her wand when he’d stopped by that morning to return it.
“She did wonderfully,” Elphaba answered quickly, sparing Galinda the discomfort of explaining Morrible’s appraisal.
“Well, don’t start casting spells on me, alright?” Fiyero joked as they meandered through the afternoon crowd. Elphaba flashed her palm at him theatrically in response.
“Boom! I’ve bewitched you for all eternity!”
Fiyero grunted and clutched his heart, pretending to stumble as he walked on. Elphaba cackled in her special way, and Galinda rolled her eyes with affection at their foolish feud.
When the girls got back to their dorm, Galinda collapsed face-first onto her mattress, a muffled, exhausted moan escaping her lips. She’d never exerted herself so much in a single day, and novice sorceresses needed their rest. She curled up properly on the bed for a catnap, letting herself be carried away by dreams of bubbles and ballgowns.
Galinda’s dainty snore was the soothing background noise Elphaba needed to decompress from the day, lounging on their divan as she caught up on some reading. However, the wispy wheezes soon lulled the green girl into a slumber of her own, her book nestled under her chin.
When Elphaba woke, the sun had set, and her roommate had disappeared. The clock on her nightstand told her it was half past the seventh hour, and the clock in her stomach told her that it was long past time for dinner.
Elphaba hurried to the dining hall, hoping to make it before dinner service concluded and she’d be forced to scavenge for a stray apple. Pushing open the large wooden doors, she was unsurprised to find the dining room mostly empty at the late hour. However, Elphaba was amazed to see the four patrons taking up residence at the center table.
Galinda, Fiyero, Boq, and Nessarose sat together enjoying their meals, casually chatting with a familiarity Elphaba was unaccustomed to.
“Elphie, you made it! Get over here!” Galinda shrieked with joy, patting the seat next to her eagerly. The green girl complied, and her roommate rewarded her with an affectionate smile. This was the second time she’d saved Elphaba a seat that day, and Galinda relished in the kinship, determined to keep holding space for her.
“When I woke from my nap, you were fast asleep, and I didn’t want to interrupt your rest,” Galinda explained, passing her a tray full of steaming Shiz cuisine. “I was prepared to smuggle you some dinner if need be, but now you’re here!”
Elphaba smiled in appreciation, digging into her meal as the others carried on their conversation, admittedly content to be surrounded by companions at mealtime.
“We were just starting to discuss where our next social outing should be,” said Fiyero as he toyed with his own food. “I think the Peach and Kidneys sounds like a good time.”
“za beash inn kinease?” Elphaba asked, her mouth full of mashed potatoes. Fiyero grinned at her deficient table manners.
“It’s a pub in town. Not nearly as scandalocious as Ozdust, but I hear the music’s fresh and the ale is strong.”
Suddenly Nessarose perked up. “Back home, there’s a pub near Colwen Grounds called The Wilted Tulip.” Nessa paused to giggle at the name. “Father says it’s a place for degenerates and drunkards, but I’ve always wanted to go,” she explained with a sheepish smile.
“You’d fit right in, Fiyero,” Elphaba teased as she took a sip out of her golden goblet. The prince narrowed his eyes at her in jest, but carried on with the planning.
“So it’s settled then, the Peach and Kidneys tomorrow night?” Most of the group hummed their agreement, but Boq was still resistant to his new rule-breaker lifestyle.
“Don’t you think we’re pushing our luck a bit, sneaking out again so soon?” No matter how desperate he was to breathe the same alcoholic air as Galinda, his fear of expulsion and exile back to Munchkinland cooled his wanton desires.
“Well, if we get kicked out, we can always reconvene at The Wilted Tulip,” Fiyero reassured him as he nudged Nessarose playfully.
That settled it, and they continued their dinner with an appetite for more than just food. They buzzed with the anticipation of rousing escapades and comfortable fellowship, the five of them unofficially forming a cozy sort of clique. The wholesome intimacy was a novel experience for all.
Elphaba and Fiyero take some time to catch up on their history project, and a secret is uncovered.
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
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“Why, Miss Elphaba… look at you. You’re beautiful.”
The girl looking back at her in the vanity mirror was someone Elphaba had never seen before. Her hair flowed freely, accessorized with a ridiculous ranunculus tucked behind her ear — the contrast of pink and green was jarring but striking. A constellation of freckles twinkled across her cheeks and nose, and her glistening eyes appeared crystalline without spectacles obscuring their emerald irises.
Galinda had made an astute observation, and Elphaba was terrified. “I have to go.”
Shrugging off her roommate’s tender embrace, she stood from the table and moved swiftly towards the door, desperately craving some unperfumed air. Unbothered by the thought of being seen in only her dressing gown, she marched down the dormitory hall as Galinda cried after her, “You’re welcome!”
Bolting away probably did make her appear ungrateful for the hours of pro bono tutelage Galinda had provided, but she’d admitted from the start that her new “project” would be her toughest case yet. Thus, she shouldn't have been shocked by Elphaba’s disinterest.
Reaching the overlook tower at the edge of the building, she took in the sunrise and noted how weary she was after all that dancing, tossing, and bouncing. The adrenaline of the Ozdust had kept her afloat into the wee hours of the morning, but now that she was alone, the gravity of the situation brought her back to earth. Galinda’s friendship, and the acceptance that came with it, were enticing after a life spent in societal exile. Still, she was hesitant to sacrifice her aptitudinal virtues in the pursuit of companionship.
In her hazy vision, she’d certainly been “popular,” just not in the Galinda way. The people of Oz had cheered in celebration of her talent and integrity, and even if the Wizard de-greenified her someday, she still wanted them to love her for who she truly was, someone of honor and substance.
However, even Elphaba had to admit that her new advisor had some merits of her own. She may not be able to conjure a ballgown with that training wand, but Galinda’s influence was undeniably powerful. Elphaba wanted to possess that intangible ability as much as she wanted to master her real magic, so she figured it couldn’t hurt to emulate Galinda’s style a little.
Later that day, Elphaba crossed the bridge to east campus, determined to hold her head high as Galinda had commanded during their lesson. “No more nose to the ground,” she’d chided, “those who look up are looked up to!” Galinda’s prattle was not without purpose, as students had been swarming Elphaba with salutations all morning.
“Oh, hi Elphaba!” a girl chirped out. “Hey Elphaba!” another crowed, waving fanatically. She tried her best to wave back with enthusiasm, but it appeared more like a motion of surrender. “Hi Elphaba, how are you?!” asked a boy whose name she didn’t know. A simple “Good!” was all she could manage on such short notice, still not used to the positive attention she’d received in the wake of her Ozdust debut.
The horde let her pass into safety behind the archways, and Elphaba took comfort in the interim privacy. In an effort to be more fashionable, she’d let her hair flow down her back with the front sections pinned up in a twist. She couldn’t stop fidgeting with the ends, so she decided to practice one of Galinda’s flouncing techniques instead.
“Toss, toss,” she instructed herself as she flipped her braids over her shoulders, mindful not to let them smack her in the face as they had the night before. It was a more graceful attempt to be sure, but it still didn’t feel natural, so she tried again. So focused was she on the delicate physics of hair tossing that she didn’t notice the Winkie prince leaning against a nearby pillar, admiring her every move.
She was experimenting with a more demure approach of tucking her head into her shoulder post-toss when she caught him staring out of the corner of her eye. She yelped, startled once again by the turbulent prince invading her serenity.
“What is it?” she asked him, suddenly shy.
It wasn’t until she fully turned to look at him that Fiyero spotted the pink flower tucked behind her ear. No doubt Galinda had knighted her with the stem as a token of endorsement, but it was somehow even lovelier perched against Elphaba’s lush complexion.
“Nothing, it's just…you've been Galinda-fied,” he declared with a short laugh.
Elphaba didn’t know how to respond, confused by the way he was studying her. His grin, normally so smug, now appeared almost solemn, as if her makeover disturbed him.
“You don't have to do that, you know.”
Fiyero nodded at her like they were co-conspirators, but Elphaba was oblivious to whatever intrigue he was implying. Unable to summon a snappy response, she nodded back and let out a neutral “hmm”– a response he seemed satisfied by.
“Come on, let’s get to class,” he suggested as he sauntered past her into Briscoe Hall. Knowing he wouldn’t see, Elphaba let herself smile at Fiyero’s inane sensibilities, rolling her eyes with just a hint of affection as she followed him inside.
As they entered the lecture hall, the room was abuzz with gossip, intensified by the scandalous reports coming out of the Ozdust Ballroom. The students peered at Elphaba and Fiyero as they arrived, titillated by the rumor that a dance floor wasn’t safe around either of them. Maybe she’d just gotten used to the attention, but Elphaba found that she didn’t mind being gawked at as long as Fiyero pulled some of the focus. Before anyone else could solicit their attention or offer themselves up as a seat neighbor, a familiar voice rose an octave above the chatter.
“Elphie! Fiyero! Over here!” sang a seated Galinda in the second row, waving her arms dramatically in case her vibrato wasn’t sufficient. She’d clearly overcaffeinated herself to combat the sleep deprivation, and she was bouncier than usual.
They took their seats on either side of their blonde confidant, effectively superseding Pfannee and Shenshen, who sneered at the new trio from across the room.
Dr. Dillamond soon made his own entrance, calling for the class to settle down.
“Good afternoon, students. I apologize for the late notice, but I’ve been summoned to an important meeting off campus, and I must depart immediately. Lecture is cancelled for today.”
A wave of ecstatic whispers swelled across the aisles with students immediately making plans for their hour of unforeseen freedom. Dillamond cleared his throat and continued.
“However, I would like you to dedicate today’s class time to working on your midterm projects,” he clarified, dashing their dreams of dalliance. “I’m sure many of you could use this opportunity to catch up on your research, as you only have two weeks left to prepare your presentations.”
Dillamond made a point to eye Fiyero as he called out a final directive to the class. “I implore you not to waste the next hour on frivolous pursuits or loafing about. I’ll see you all next week.”
Once the Goat exited through his specially sized door, a few diligent pairs of students dove into academic discussion, others used the lecture hall as a social salon, and several absconded altogether.
Galinda immediately leaped up to mingle with the other socialites, avoiding the project and her partner, the aforementioned castoff Pfannee. She motioned for her new beau and bosom friend to follow, but as Fiyero rose to join, Elphaba yanked him back by the tail of his blazer.
“Oh no you don’t!” Elphaba spouted, “I’m not failing this assignment on account of your laziness.”
Fiyero rolled his eyes at her with a flippant flare but relented. “Fine! But can we go somewhere quieter? I can’t think with all these distractions.” Elphaba was skeptical of his motives, convinced he was merely trying to craft his escape, but she also worked best in calmer environments.
She led them out of the lecture hall and found a private study room to occupy. As Elphaba settled herself at the table, laying out her notes for review, Fiyero turned the opposite chair around to straddle it backward, hanging his arms over the top.
“Alright Miss Studious, catch me up. What are we presenting on?”
Elphaba presented him with a document outlining the prompt and expectations for the assignment. He glanced at it for a moment, then pushed it back towards her. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient if you just tell me?”
If he can’t even be bothered to read the instructions, we’re doomed, thought Elphaba.
“Dr. Dillamond is asking us to examine the Ozma monarchy, more specifically, compare the reigns and ruling styles of two separate Ozmas, and how their actions impacted Ozian history.”
“Ozma-s? I thought there was only the one,” Fiyero countered.
“There’s actually an entire matriarchal line of Ozmas that descended from her. Haven’t you heard of them?”
Fiyero looked at her like she was playing a trick on him. “No. I can barely remember my own royal family tree, let alone someone else’s, and definitely not when they all have the same name!”
His ignorance was concerning to Elphaba, but she reminded herself that maybe the educational curriculum of Vinkun schools focused on different subjects. Or, maybe, Fiyero was just an idiot.
“How many of these ‘Ozmas’ are we choosing from here?” he asked. Elphaba preened at the opportunity to flex her memory.
“Well, there’s of course the original Ozma, later known as ‘Ozma The Two-Faced,’ followed by ‘Ozma the First,’ named for being the first Ozma replacification and the beginning of the matriarchal line. Does that make sense?”
“Sure.”
“Then there was ‘Ozma the Mendacious,’ ‘Ozma the Warrior,’ ‘Ozma the Librarian’ — my personal favorite…”
“Of course she is.”
Elphaba narrowed her eyes as she continued. “After her, ‘Ozma the Scarcely Beloved’ took the throne, followed by ‘Ozma the Bilious’...”
“Wait, Bilious?”
Elphaba sighed. “She was famously plagued by chronic indigestion. But I’ve read that she was very kind.”
“And finally, her daughter, ‘Ozma Tippetarius,’ but she supposedly died as a baby and thus never ruled.”
“How tragic,” responded Fiyero, bemused by the monotony of non-Vinkun royalty.
Rising from his chair, the prince paced the room, pretending to ponder their options. Eventually, he turned to his partner with a pitch.
“Here’s what we’ll do. When we go up there, you’ll spout your fun facts about whichever two Ozmas you think are the most righteous, I’ll nod and smile along, and everyone will be impressed, high marks for us both!”
Elphaba was totally unimpressed by his approach, or lack thereof.
“You know what? This is why you and Galinda get along so well. You think that all it takes to succeed in life is a pleasing smile and nothing of actual substance.”
Fiyero’s grin was devious. “So you find my smile pleasing?” He’d finally stunned her into silence again, and the deep juniper blush that blossomed on her cheeks was divine.
“I actually find very little about you to be pleasing; that was a generalization regarding your moral priorities.” Elphaba prayed that sounded convincing.
“Irregardless, half of presenting is being charming, so you might want to keep the prickliness to a minimum day of,” Fiyero suggested, hoping to gain the upperhand again before she bested him with more highbrow insults.
“It’s regardless,” Elphaba corrected, “irregardless isn’t a word.”
“Huh?”
Elphaba closed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep from yelling at him. Perfectly tousled hair can’t compensate for a lack of brains.
“Regardless of what you’re used to from other schools, Dr. Dillamond expects us to actually apply ourselves and think critically about history. I will not let you embarrass me because you’d rather slough it off and act like nothing matters!”
Fiyero had exhausted his clever retort quota for the day, so he just crossed his arms and stayed silent while Elphaba began arranging a series of texts in front of him.
“I’ve already read these, but you need to at least skim them to be able to tell the Ozmas apart. I’ll let you borrow them if you promise not to use them as stepping stones.”
Fiyero fought the urge to kick the books out the window. “That’s very generous of you, but can’t you just give me the highlights? You know more than I ever will, so why waste the time?”
Oz, he’s exhausting!
“I am not doing your work for you, Fiyero Tigelaar. I don’t care if you are a prince, apathy and density are not merits to take pride in, and you’ll have nothing to show for your life if you keep this up.”
Elphaba flipped open the cover and used her shapely nail to emphasize the text. “Read the damn book yourself!” Fiyero responded by pointing to the page with an accusatory grimace.
“Well I can’t!” he shouted, his evident frustration so earnest it frightened her.
He retreated and took refuge by the window, refusing to meet her gaze. An awkward, sullen silence sat between them until Elphaba broke it to confirm her suspicions.
“You don’t know how to read?” she asked, keeping her tone gentle, prickliness forgotten.
Fiyero took a deep breath and let himself look at her, expecting judgement or even ridicule, but she was looking at him like he was wounded, and somehow that felt worse. He shook his head to answer since words had betrayed him.
“Didn’t you learn as a child?” Elphaba was genuinely curious to understand how a prince with every resource in the land was somehow illiterate.
“I tried to, but I just couldn’t.” The phrasing struck her, and suddenly Elphaba was reexamining Fiyero’s manifesto.
“Yesterday, in the library, when you said ‘those who don’t try, never look foolish’... was that a personal anecdote?”
Their eyes met, and Elphaba could see that she’d exposed a piece of him that no one else had, a secret he’d hidden in plain sight that only she was perceptive enough to uncover.
“Letters and words are like a riddle I can’t unravel,” he explained, desperate to make her understand. She obviously had no idea what it was like to be at war with the written word.
He sat back down and gazed at her across the table, unsure why he felt so comfortable confessing his deepest insecurity to a girl who enjoyed judging his every move.
“It’s been this way my whole life. At first, my tutors thought my vision was the problem, but it’s not my eyes, it’s my brain. It jumbles everything up and I can’t make sense of it.”
“I really did try when I was younger, but I was so slow to learn, and no one believed me when I’d tell them how the symbols I saw didn’t match the sounds I heard. They all thought I was making it up, so eventually I just gave up.”
Elphaba was horrified but captivated by the way Fiyero described his struggle, like some dark curse of the mind that robbed its victim of enlightenment. She was spurred by a sudden desire to help him overcome it.
“Would you let me try to teach you?”
It was Fiyero’s turn to be stunned by his partner’s suggestion.
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m a terrible student. You’d give up on me in a week.”
Elphaba leaned in closer. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I don’t back down from a challenge.”
He chuckled and considered her offer, a small spark of long-abandoned hope smoldering in his chest. If anyone could help him find his brains, it would be Elphaba Thropp, by magic or force of will.
“I’m serious Fiyero, I want to help you, and I promise not to make you feel foolish for trying.” She didn’t want to guarantee him a magical solution, but she was also determined to succeed.
“That’s very kind of you Elphaba… very kind.” He smiled at her without any airs or pretenses, and the green girl across from him was struck by how it warmed her.
“And hey, if you learn how to read before midterms, you can learn all about the time Ozma the Bilious famously vomited all over the Emerald City aristocracy!”
They laughed together, and Elphaba knew she had convinced him.
The hour passed, they gathered their things to leave, but before she made it through the doorway, Fiyero stopped her with a light touch on her elbow.
“Elphaba,” he said humbly, “please don’t tell Galinda, or anyone else, about my…” He’d never known what to call his conundrum, as there was nothing in the Ozian lexicon that could accurately describe it.
In his moment of vulnerability, Elphaba started to understand his solemn grin from earlier. She smiled at him reassuringly.
“Your secret is safe with me, Fiyero, but you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”
Fiyero leads a flock of party animals to the Ozdust Ballroom and witnesses pure magic.
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4
READ ON AO3
When Fiyero made his way back to his suite, he collapsed onto the bed and let out a deep breath, grateful for the privacy. His charming rascal routine was fruitful, but it sure was exhausting. As the late afternoon light reflected off his newly arrived luggage, Fiyero too reflected on his first day at Shiz.
He’d dutifully sowed his seeds of corruption and frivolity throughout campus, delighted by how willingly the student body had soaked them in. However, the pretty foliage that was Elphaba Thropp grew from tougher soil, and her resistance dimmed his gratification. Obstinate green girls aside, Fiyero hoped to see the revelry fully bloom before he got himself expelled. If this really was to be his last chance at schoolery, he wanted to secure his “party prince” legacy before his Arjiki Chieftain future snuffed it out.
Despite his best efforts not to, he started thinking of home. He’d started to feel more unwelcome each time he came back a dropout, and he could sense his father’s disappointment had evolved into thinly veiled disdain. Dual senses of resentment and guilt crept in every time he let his mind wander westward, so he sought out a distraction.
Focusing on the jollification ahead, he dug through his trunks of finery to find something swankified enough to wear to the Ozdust Ballroom. After some rummaging, he pulled out his favorite regalia suit, typically only worn for special ceremonies at Kiamo Ko. Tonight, he was going to hold court on the dance floor instead.
Fiyero ran his fingers over the traditional Winkie embroidery on the coat jacket, admiring the intricate gold and silver threads he knew his mother had stitched in with love. Suddenly, a pinch of shame bruised him. Rebelling against his father’s paradigm was amusifying, until he remembered that his mother also bore the burden of his failures. Though Fiyero knew she loved him unconditionally, he could tell she was troubled by his aimlessness, and for that, he was conscience-stricken.
As he fastened the gold buttons of his jacket, he paused to appreciate the blazing sunset she’d added on the left sleeve, making his heart ache for the warmth of the Vinkus grasslands. Wincing, he shook off his untimely homesickness and carefully coiffed his hair to brush away any remaining stray thoughts.
True to his word, he arrived at the girls dormitory at the top of the eight o’clock hour, waiting patiently for his date to emerge. Emerge she did, in an ostentatiously ruffled party frock, floating about like a fuschia fish. Galinda was flanked by Pfannee and Shenshen, dressed in their own bold shades of rose and saffron; together they formed a flamboyant shoal.
Galinda greeted Fiyero with a twirl and a toss of her curls, and he made sure to tell her how beautiful she looked, not that she needed the affirmation. He had hoped to see her roommate following behind her, wondering what she might wear on a night out, but he didn’t have time to dwell on her absence; they had a party to get to.
Fiyero shepherded a growing flock of party animals as they moved stealthily across campus, keeping an eye out for any authoritative busybodies who might try to spoil their merriment.
“We’re gonna get arrested!” cried Phannee as they scampered to the landing dock, Galinda whipping around to shush him as she anxiously squeezed Fiyero’s hand. He could tell this was her first excursion into deviant territory, and he was proud to be her escort.
At the water’s edge, Fiyero guided everyone aboard the gondola with efficiency, stepping back onto the dock once Galinda was seated. “Fiyero, whatever are you waiting for?” she asked, puzzled and eager to get sailing.
Just then, Boq and Nessarose rounded the corner, out of breath from their own mad dash across the quad. Fiyero beamed at them as they approached, slapping Boq on the back and complimenting Nessarose on her glittering shoes, stirring an appreciative blush from the girl.
The boys made sure Nessarose was transferred safely into the boat, and Galinda marveled at Fiyero’s benevolence. She’d completely forgotten about encouragerizing Bick to invite her roommate’s little sister, and that act of kindness now felt synthetic in comparison to her date’s natural courtesy. She was already in love with him.
As they set sail, Fiyero leapt up with spirit, calling out to his merry crew, “To Ozdust?”
“To Ozdust!” they shouted back in unison, primed for the night of their lives. Galinda latched herself onto Fiyero’s hips as he continued his fanaticism, excited and terrified at what the Ozdust Ballroom had in store.
They traversed the man-made waterways out of Shiz and through the rivers of the outer forests, docking their gondola at a lake’s edge. Fiyero seemed to know exactly where he was going, lighting the way with a lantern in one hand and Galinda’s sweaty palm in the other.
Her nerves were clear to Fiyero as they trekked through the dark, enchanted woods, and he found himself wanting to fully earn her trust. Motioning for the group to pause in front of a family of night-blooming flowers, Fiyero leaned down to greet a pink ranunculus, bowing his head in reverence. “May I?”
The flower graciously dipped her petals, giving him the permission he sought, and Fiyero picked her off the stem gently. He turned back to Galinda, smiled reassuringly, and tucked the flower safely in her hair, nodding in satisfaction at the way they enhanced each other’s loveliness. Galinda’s nervous jitters were banished in favor of blissful butterflies.
They soon came upon a giant lotus leaf, guarded by a sizable, imperial looking Tortoise. The Shiz students exchanged skeptic glances as Fiyero introduced himself, shaking the Tortoise’s stout foot as he would a man’s hand.
“I knew Winkies were exotic but I didn’t know they exchanged pleasantries with reptiles,” whispered Shenshen in Galinda’s ear, snickering. She’d have been lying if she said she also wasn’t bewildered by the Winkie Prince’s rapport with the local flora and fauna, but Galinda didn’t appreciate Shenshen’s venomous tone.
Before she could think of a response, the Tortoise snapped at the lotus curtain and pulled it back, revealing a spiral downward path. Fiyero tossed him a coin before moving through the entryway, motioning for the others to follow. Galinda and Nessarose were the first to enter, sharing an excited glance as they began their dissent. Boq and the flock were impressed despite their prejudices, and fell in line behind them.
They made their way down into a cavern with walls of rippled glass dimly lit in a technicolor haze, the muffled roar of music amplifying as they continued their descent. When they finally entered the ballroom, their senses were bombarded with the deliciously illicit atmosphere.
A swinging band of Animals played raucously as the patrons moved their bodies in ways that made Galinda go rosy. Above the dancefloor, she was awestruck by a school of magenta fish swimming in synchronization to the beat of the music. She then realized that the Ozdust Ballroom wasn’t just underground, it was underwater.
Dumbfounded, Galinda let Fiyero guide her over to the bar, where he immediately procured a pitcher of punch and glasses for toasting. Galinda had never indulged in such libations before, but seeing how swiftly Fiyero tossed his down, she decided to be brave and do the same.
What slid down her throat was a toxic potion of some vile tonic infused with lemons, melons, and pears. Galinda fought back tears and did everything in her power not to gag, and Fiyero chuckled as he watched her try to regain her veneer of grace.
She was relieved to feel Fiyero start to pull her towards the dance floor, and like a magnet, everyone in the club was drawn to him. He jumped straight to the center and started hyping up the crowd.
“Here we go! Are you ready?” he called out, bowing towards Galinda dramatically, winding himself up to conduct the entire ballroom in a jitterbug symphony.
He warmed everyone up with some rhythmic stomping, evolving into a call and response of movements that was electric. Galinda had never thrashed her body around like this, and even when she struggled to keep up with his technique, the beat of the drums and Fiyero’s smile made her feel euphoric. If this is what it meant to dance through life, she was all for it.
When they stopped to take a breath, tipsy and giggling, Galinda leaned into Fiyero’s chest to steady herself. “Are you having fun?” he asked her, grinning, as they slowed their movements to a pseudo-sway. He definitely had a lightweight on his hands.
“Oh I’m having a marvelous time FiFi!” He couldn’t help the laugh that came out of him. Of all the nicknames he’d been called throughout his life, affectionate or derogatory, “FiFi” was by far the stupidest. It did make him smile though.
Galinda suddenly became restless in his arms. “Lift me up! Spin me!” she demanded as she raised her arms into wings, a flightless bird aching to soar. Before he could get a proper grip on her waist to hoist her into the air, she’d bounced independently, the physics clashing and resulting in a twirl that barely made it off the ground. They collapsed into each other in another fit of giggles, agreeing to remain earthbound.
Fiyero looked at Galinda, her eyes glistening with laughter-induced tears, and admired how pretty her smile was when it was genuine. Her congeniality had been so calculated up until now, and watching her laugh at herself made her seem more human.
This girl is fun when she’s not trying so hard to be perfect, Fiyero observed as he transitioned them to a proper slow dance.
“I want to thank you for being so kind to Nessarose earlier,” Galinda said as she started playing with his hair, “and for the way you lead us all here tonight. It’s all been so fabulocious.”
“Oh, of course, everyone deserves a chance to have some fun,” Fiyero responded, glancing over at Nessarose and Boq, who were quietly sipping their punch off to the side. He knew that Galinda had set them up as a diversion, but he genuinely hoped that they’d make each other happy.
When he turned back to Galinda, she was looking at him with a glossy sort of stare, her head tilted upward and her mouth pouted just so. He knew what she wanted, so he let it happen.
Her lips ghosted over his for a moment before they were fully joined. She tasted like lemons and he savored her softness; a perfectly sweet kiss with a perfectly sweet girl.
She came up for air giggling, and her joy was admittedly infectious. “I want another drink!” she exclaimed as she grabbed his hand to tug him towards the bar. Fiyero turned to find Boq staring at them, looking distressed. Hoping he was working up the courage to ask Nessarose to dance, Fiyero offered him an encouraging grin as he followed Galinda away.
Drinks replenished, Galinda wanted to go somewhere “a little quieter,” which Fiyero thought was futile in a place like Ozdust, but he let her lead him to a stalagmite near the entrance that offered a modicum of privacy.
He was happy to conversate if she did all of the actual talking, so he enclosed her against the wall with his arm and let her rest her own around his neck, spurring her with “umhms” and “wows” as she babbled about the Gillikin social scene.
Fiyero was so preoccupied with sipping his cocktail and listening to his date’s frank analysis of garden party politics that he didn’t see Madame Morrible descend from the stone staircase.
“You,” Morrible called out. “Me?” Galinda responded, frozen in shock.
The sorceress examined the Winkie prince with sharp disdain. “And you can go back to doing whatever this is.” Fiyero chuckled to cut the tension, not grasping the gravity of Morrible acknowledging Galinda’s existence.
“Go,” Galinda whispered, shooing him away frantically, “Go!”
He sulked away, seeking refuge at the bar where no one would look at him like he was an uncivilized reject. He nursed another drink, and realized he actually needed this moment to breathe. So much had happened to him since his arrival at Shiz the night before, and inebriation was intensifying his exhaustion.
Fiyero had no idea why, but his sozzled thoughts drifted to Elphaba. He wondered what she’d been up to that evening, imagining that she was curled up with her nose in some book, enjoying the peace of a Galinda-less dorm room. He also wondered what her skin would look like in the lighting of the ballroom.
A sudden, uncharacteristic hush fell over said ballroom, and it roused him from his drunken daydreams. It was quickly replaced by a wave of whispers and snide laughter. The patrons seemed to be crowding to jeer at someone, but from his vantage point, he couldn’t see who.
Abandoning his beverage, he looked for his fuschia fish in the sea of people, and made his way towards her through the crowd, intrigued by their affronted gasps. When he finally broke through and saw their target, he froze.
Elphaba was in the middle of the dance floor by herself, moving her body in a way that was erratic but controlled, as distasteful as it was exquisite. He couldn’t look away if he wanted to.
Oz, she’s hypnotizing.
Elphaba revolved a final time, clapping her hands together in an echoing thwack that sobered him instantly. She took a beat to restore a pointed hat from the floor to its intended position on her head. His own head cleared enough to realize that Elphaba had been humiliating herself as an act of defiance.
“I’ll say this much, she doesn’t give a twig what anyone thinks,” he whispered to Galinda, barely taking his eyes off the green girl.
She also kept her gaze firmly on Elphaba. “Of course she does, she just pretends not to.” This struck him a bit too deep for his liking, his own history of pretenses suddenly haunting him.
“I feel awful,” Galinda admitted, her eyes so full of regret they looked about to burst. Confused by her sudden change in emotion towards her roommate, he peered down at her and tried to reassure her with a gentle squeeze. “Why? It’s not like it’s your fault.”
She finally looked at him, her glossy stare from earlier completely dimmed. She excused herself, handing him a glass wand and making her way towards Elphaba on the dancefloor. Where Galinda had found this shiny new baton, Fiyero had no idea, but he held it firm, gripping it tighter when the crowd’s hateful laughter started back up. He was starting to understand where Elphaba’s defensive tendencies had come from, and he was surprised by how much it upset him.
Who were these indistinguishable fools to mock someone so unique and dauntless?
As Galinda approached Elphaba, she recoiled with resignation, awaiting the final blow the crowd believed Galinda was preparing to strike. Instead, she raised her palm to her forehead and wiggled her fingers.
Everyone observed as Galinda began mimicking Elphaba’s peculiar dance moves, not from a place of derision, but appreciation. Leaning sideways back into a twirl, she was cut off by her disenchanted associates, horrified that their leader would debase herself in such a fashion. They attempted to chide her into complicity, but she rejected them outright and centered her focus on Elphaba.
Fiyero was awestruck by her braverism. Anyone could witness an injustice and feel troubled by it — as he was by Elphaba’s harassment — but few had the courage to try to remedy the harm with unwavering resolve. Galinda was clearly made of stronger stuff than he was.
He watched on as the two girls engaged in an intimate dance, mirroring each other so tenderly that Fiyero’s heart ached in a new and frightening way. Their connection was undeniable, and when Galinda gently swiped Elphaba’s tears away, the emotional dam between them seemed to break for good.
Inspired by Galinda’s example of influence, Fiyero too started mimicking their movements, showing the impressionable flock how to bend and curve their bodies in reverence and repentance. They quickly started embracing the routine, but when everyone else found their groove, the two girls paused to embrace one another.
They broke apart to take in the scene on the dancefloor, Elphaba’s tears still flowing as she watched her former adversaries reach out towards her in praise. Fiyero was suddenly desperate for her to look at him, and his heart leapt when she and Galinda giggled at his fervent movements.
Galinda grasped Elphaba’s hand to lead her out of the ballroom, and Fiyero fought the urge to chase after them. It was strange, but as he stopped to watch the two girls run up the stairs together, Fiyero was overcome with the feeling that something life changing had occurred.
Fiyero arrives late to history class and finds himself seated next to the green girl.
Previous Chapters:
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The afternoon session of Dr. Dillamond’s history class had just commenced, the students settled along the aisles of the lecture hall, reluctantly ready to harp on the past.
As per usual, Galinda was nestled between her lackeys, Pfannee and Shen Shen, in the back row, while Elphaba sat independently in the front, a permanent empty seat beside her.
The professor was waxing poetic about the assasification of the Archduke Winkifred when the sound of doors banging open brought the lecture to a standstill, everyone turning their heads to see who had caused the disruption.
Fiyero stood in the doorway, looking frazzled, though no less handsome. True to form, he’d gotten lost on campus after his spree in the library, his new blonde friend having distracted him from comprehending that map sufficiently. Her “guided tour” had been more like a flirtatious stroll, and she also hadn’t known any of the actual building names.
Thus, Fiyero had found himself wandering aimlessly after they parted ways, a crumpled up class schedule his only lifeline. Not that he was desperate to go sit in a lecture hall, but he didn’t need that excitable Head Shiztress writing to his parents to expose his immediate truancy.
He’d bolted into Briscoe Hall, hoping the class hadn’t started yet, but the silent head turns that greeted him indicated otherwise. Their stares triggered the memory of a traumatic tardiness from his past, but then he remembered himself. He didn’t have to shrink in shame just because he was late on his first day. He didn’t care about punctuality, because that’s how untroubled free-spirits like him went through life.
Dr. Dillamond, however, was concerned with the new student’s tardiness. “This class begins promptly at the 2nd hour, young man. You’re late.”
A small bit of humility overrode his dedication to indifference. “My apologies, professor, is this Ozian History I?”
“Yes, now find yourself a seat so we can continue our lesson.”
Fiyero quickly scanned the room and was disappointed to find that there were no vacancies in the back row. Galinda, panicking, shoved Pfannee to the floor to free up a space for him. Before she could wave him over, Fiyero’s eyes found a single empty seat down front next to a bespectacled green girl.
Smirking, he made his way to the aisle and motioned towards the bench, “Is this seat taken, miss?” Not waiting for an answer, he slid into place next to Elphaba.
“I was starting to believe I imagined you,” Fiyero whispered teasingly, “like some wood sprite sent to torment me in the dead of night.” She was tormenting him in the light of day by ignoring him. It was especially cold of her after he’d greeted her with his warmest wave earlier.
“Don’t you know that it’s rude to talk during a lecture?” she whispered back at him harshly. Her acknowledgement was delicious, despite its bitterness.
“My apologies, Miss Studious.” Elphaba sighed with contempt.
The lecture resumed, but Fiyero could barely concentrate with the sage shrew so visibly tense beside him. As the other students took notes furiously, he realized he lacked the essential tool of a writing pen. His satchel was merely for show as he’d forgotten to pack any actual study materials.
He dared not risk his life by asking his neighbor to borrow one, so he sat back and listened, a little invested in the harrowing tale of the rogue chicken student and his potato gun. Dr. Dillamond was a passionate orator, and Fiyero was admittedly impressed by his vigor.
When that day’s lesson concluded, Dillamond dismissed the rest of the class but waved a hoof at Fiyero and Elphaba to beckon them over to his desk.
“Miss Elphaba, I wanted to speak with you about your midterm project. As you recall, it was intended to be a partnered assignment, but we had an odd number of students at the time. So, you offered to work independently.”
Elphaba did not like where this was going. “Yes, Dr. Dillamond, I remember.”
“Well, seeing as we have,” the goat glanced at Fiyero skeptically, “a new addition to our class, I’d like for you and Mister… uh…”
“Tigelaar, sir.”
“Ah, yes. I’d like for you and Mister Tigelaar to work together on the project.”
Elphaba suddenly wished his horse had trampled her.
“But Dr. Dillamond, we agreed that I could work on my own— I’ve already started!”
“Well, I’m sure you’d be able to help Mister Tigelaar catch up. I look forward to seeing what the two of you accomplish together.” The goat nodded and trotted off with the departing students.
Betrayed by her favorite professor, Elphaba crossed her arms and seethed, glancing up at her undesired partner. He met her glare with an obnoxious grin.
“We haven’t really met properly, have we?” he asked the green girl, extending his hand. “ Fiyero Tigelaar, recovering trampler.”
Her arms still locked in anger, she ignored his attempt at a handshake. “Elphaba Thropp, impending casualty.”
Elphaba. How fitting for someone so peculiar and striking.
He had half a mind to invite her down to the Ozdust that evening as a gesture of goodwill, but his ego couldn’t take another rejection from her.
Before he could work up the courage, Galinda pulled him away, eyeing Elphaba as if to scold her for being so unwelcoming. As they made their way out onto the courtyard together, Fiyero’s curiosity got the better of him.
“So, what’s the deal with that Elphaba girl? Do you know her?”
Galinda whipped her head towards him in minute horror. “Well, she’s actually my um… roommate.” She whispered that last word as if confessing a sin.
“Your roommate? How did that come to be?” Fiyero was suddenly desperate to know the lore of their connection.
Galinda sighed like a true martyr.
“Well, you see, she wasn’t originally enrolled here at Shiz. Only her sister, that tragically beautiful girl I asked Boq to invite out, was supposed to stay. But Elphaba caused a big commotion on the quad, sent things flying all around—”
“Wait, flying ?” Maybe she really is a wood sprite, thought Fiyero.
“YES! She gave us all quite the scare, I was nearly flattened by a bench!” Galinda placed her hand on her heart in exasperation. “Anyway, Madame Morrible took credit, Oz bless her, to spare the poor girl from more embarrassment. However, she saw potential in her and now Elphaba is in her sorcery seminar, which I think is really unfair because she didn’t even have to write an entrance essay!”
“Sounds like she made quite the impression. But how did that lead to the two of you becoming roomies?”
“Oh, that part. Morrible asked for a volunteer to share their room, and being the gracious person I am, I offered her a place in my private suite.”
“How good of you,” Fiyero remarked.
“I know. You think she’d be more appreciative, but no, she’s quite the prickly presence.”
Fiyero sensed there might be more to their cohabitation than Galinda was letting on, but he decided not to push it.
“So, I'll be picking you up around eight?” he asked as they approached the dormitory entrance.
Galinda perked up at the mention of their scandalocious plans. She winked at him, tossing her hair for good measure. “Sounds perfect!”
Elphaba doesn't want to dance through life, she just wants to read.
1 | 2
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Elphaba Thropp woke to the sound of her roommate squealing like a lunatic. This was not the first time Galinda’s high-pitched hullabaloo had interrupted her slumber, but she had yet to find a way to tune it out.
She sat up in bed and watched through groggy eyes as Galinda flitted around the room, feverishly primping as if her life depended on it. The obnoxious squeak of her perfume bottle was too much for Elphaba to bear this early in the morning, so she laid back down, using her pillow as a soft shield.
She’d slept poorly the night before, her mind restless with worry over Dr. Dillamond’s warnings of unrest. That arrogant, unfunny man from the forest was also plaguing her thoughts, but she tried not to dwell on the recklessness of traveling imbeciles.
Galinda finally burst out of their room, clearly on a mission, so Elphaba emerged from the safety of her humble alcove. She changed out of her nightgown and into her favorite pinafore and blouse, carrying on with her braided high ponytail from the day before. Her safety might have been compromised during that near-trampling, but at least her hair had kept its composure.
Elphaba emerged from the dormitory, readying herself for the typical stares and sneers, but as she made her way across campus, she noticed something strange. The student body whispered and giggled as they normally did, just not at her. She couldn’t surmise the subject of their jabber, nor did she care to, but it was surprising to go unnoticed for once.
Many students were clutching that day’s edition of the Shiz Gazette, devouring the headlines as if they were starving for something buzzworthy. Elphaba had yet to read anything in that publication worthy of such excitement, preferring her actual textbooks to tedious reports of collegiate gossip.
It was her affection for actual books that brought Elphaba to the library, one of her few places of solace at the university. She’d always found comfort amongst their modest shelves at home, but something about this circular collection of the rare and ancient made Elphaba feel more powerful by association. The library reminded her that she’d earned her right to study at Shiz, and she refused to squander it.
She spotted Nessarose at one of the study tables and sat beside her, arranging her supplies as they exchanged pleasantries. She’d been trying to maintain a healthy distance from Nessa to support her independence, but every once in a while she craved that fleeting sisterly connection.
“I met the rudest person last night,” Elphaba whispered to her sister, figuring a tiny bit of gossip couldn’t hurt.
“Uh-huh,” Nessa responded, seemingly preoccupied with her studying. Elphaba leaned over to see what had captured her attention, spotting a copy of the newspaper wedged between the pages of her textbook.
“Oh Nessa, not you too! What could possibly have happened that has everyone so afflicted?”
Nessarose gasped and her eyes went wide. “Have you not heard? A prince just arrived on campus!”
This piqued Elphaba’s interest more than she cared for. “A prince? Why? Is he here to cut a ribbon or something?”
“No Elphaba, he just arrived as a student.”
Elphaba couldn’t imagine what an Ozian prince of any kind would be doing at a university like Shiz. Weren’t their lives preordained without any need for legitimate skills or knowledge?
“Well, best of luck to him. I doubt he’ll last very long.”
She didn’t have time to worry about a prince when The Complete Alchemist was calling to her. Madame Morrible had assigned the reading for her sorcery seminar, and Elphaba was enchanted by the history of magical genesis. It was unlike anything she’d ever been allowed to learn before, and she took vigilant notes.
“And this is the, um… book place!”
Elphaba looked up at the sound of a most familiar chirp, and saw her roommate escorting a young man into the library. Galinda was rambling to him, something about medium-rare books that sounded like nervous, flirtatious nonsense. Who could have the Galinda Upland in such a tizzy?
It wasn’t until Galinda tossed her hair and stepped away from her suitor that Elphaba got a good look at him. Tousled hair streaked with honey, broad shoulders covered in navy velvet, and sky-blue eyes clouded by smugness. To her horror, her moonlit assailant had returned in broad daylight – and he was waving at her, smiling like he’d just run into an old friend.
Elphaba met his greeting with the most dismissive eye roll she could muster, and returned to her notes. She tried her hardest to focus on reading, but the new boy was determined to make his presence impossible to ignore.
That Munchkin boy, Boq, literally fell over himself trying to overhear Galinda’s conversation with him, and Elphaba was embarrassed on Boq’s behalf. She figured if one is to eavesdrop, they must at least pretend to be disinterested, though Elphaba’s own nonchalance still needed work.
She listened as her mystery trampler finally introduced himself to her classmate. “I’m Fiyero Tigelaar,” he turned to Galinda, “of Winkie Country.” She swooned, and it dawned on Elphaba that this Fiyero must be the student prince everyone was talking about.
The scoundrel prince and her sickly sweet roommate – they deserve each other. They’ll torment me as a pair, Elphaba thought.
She watched on, nonchalance be damned, as Fiyero threw his arms around Galinda and Boq. “I see that once again that the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students falls to me.” Elphaba shuddered to think of the delinquency he might encouragerize.
His first of many crimes was the ruthless chucking of an innocent book. It landed with a thud as he cartwheeled into a spiel about his flunking out of multiple schools. He seemed to be proud of such failures, which Elphaba found absurd.
“They want you to become less callow, less… shallow?” he explained, eliciting another eye roll from the green girl. “But I say, why invite stress in?”
The librarian, Oz bless her, attempted to restore order with a stern shush, but he disarmed her with a twirl and a kiss, lifting her tenderly onto a book cart. He sent her rolling away along with any authority she might have over him, and the crowd of students applauded. Elphaba felt nauseous.
Fiyero continued on with his half-witted soliloquy on the merits of a meritless existence, gyrating around the library with his flock admiring each step he took on the covers of helpless tomes. Out of the corner of her eye, Elphaba could see that Nessarose was just as enamored with this mindless spectacle as the rest of their peers, and she could not hide her disdain.
The prince set his sights on the circular bookcase at the center of the room, the university’s rarest books preserved within its rotating shelves. He activated its tornado wheel mechanics and made to leap inside, clearly not concerned with the endangerment of precious literature. Elphaba could no longer watch in silence.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she yelled as she stood, actually hoping to redirect people’s attention for once. Instead, she faced a vexing chorus of shushes before they turned their gaze back to their new social captain. “Do you mind? Some of us are trying to learn something!” Galinda shot over her shoulder.
Fiyero swung into the tornado wheel, books flying as he vaulted about, spewing more of his anti-intellectualism. The more she listened to his speech, she found that there was something kind of pitiful about what he was suggesting, that somehow life could be less fraught if one simply stopped caring about anything of value. That couldn’t actually be a fulfilling way to live, so she wondered what had led this privileged prince to such an ignorant philosophy.
Realizing how distracted she had become, Elphaba needed to seek refuge in a quieter environment. “I’m gonna go study outside, I can’t listen to this,” she said to Nessarose.
She gathered her things and quickly made her way towards the exit, hoping to slip out without getting caught up in the foolery. Fiyero and his merry band were making plans to go down to some illicit ballroom that evening, which sounded just as distasteful as people dancing in a library.
As she ran off, she didn’t notice the prince watching her. He had a momentary, intrusive idea to try to give the green girl a whirl, but then he got distracted by the blonde one.
Elphaba found safety out in the courtyard, but she could still hear a muffled manifesto coming from the library. It was only after she saw the crowd file out in a flurry that she dared return to try to rescue and rehome any victimized books.
Just as she finished, she saw Nessarose making her way over, beaming. “You’ll never guess what just happened!” After that morning’s surprises, very little could shock her. “What?”
“That perfectly adorable Munchkin boy just asked me out! He said he was too shy to ask me, at first, but then Galinda emboldened him,” Nessa explained, clearly giddy.
“Wait, Galinda?” Anything orchestrated by Miss Upland made Elphaba feel wary, and Nessa knew how little she trusted her roommate.
“Don’t! Don’t you dare say another word against her. I’m about to have the happiest night of my life, thanks to Galinda.”
Nessa went on, pleading with her sister to see how important this night was to her, how fate had brought her and Boq together, and how Galinda’s kindness shouldn’t be overlooked.
“Please, Elphaba, try to understand.”
Elphaba took her baby sister’s hand, not nearly as little as it used to be. She knew that Nessa was old enough to make her own choices, and she refused to be like their father, infantilizing and paranoid. Her sister’s happiness, no matter how temporary it may be, mattered more than her own fears.
“I do.”
Wildest Dreamings is Part One of The Land of What-Might-Have-Been, a two-part narrative revealing the complete love story of Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero Tigelaar.
So much happened before Elphaba went off to see the Wizard, before Fiyero thought he lost her forever.
The Land of What-Might-Have-Been will unfold as a two-part narrative, reading between the lines to reveal the complete love story of Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero Tigelaar.
This fic is primarily inspired by the musical and its film adaptation, with literary influences throughout. Wildest Dreamings will cover the canon events of Part/Act 1, expanding upon the characters and relationships we know and love.
READ ON AO3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Conferring with the Foliage
Fiyero Tigelaar had no idea where he was going.
He and Feldspur had been traveling for hours along the Gillikin River, but as swirling trees took over the landscape and the sky grew darker, his sense of geography was shot.
His inability to find the place was already making him resentful of Shiz University and all that lay within it. There couldn’t possibly be anything life-changing waiting for him on the campus grounds, and he had long abandoned the sense of hope that came with a new school.
Following his failed stint at the Academy, his mother and father had warned him that this was his last chance at a “good education,” whatever that meant. It had become quite clear to him that formal institutions of learning had nothing of value to teach, and even if they did, he wasn’t capable of understanding them.
Frustrated, he urged Feldspur to a gallop. If he got lost enough, maybe he could avoid Shiz altogether and take on a new identity as a rogue gallivanter. At this point, even a life of crime sounded better than the torture of academia.
He was so deep in these ruminations that he didn’t see the green girl crossing his path, too lost in her own worries to notice she was about to be run over.
Feldspur stopped short just before they collided, but she was so startled that she toppled over onto the forest floor.
“ Woah there, woah!” Fiyero called out, trying to catch a glimpse of his near victim.
“I did not see her,” explained a spooked Feldspur. “Yeah, neither did I!”
From his vantage point, her face was still hidden, but as she pulled herself up, he couldn’t help but notice the rather pleasant shape of her backside. He scolded himself for such ungentlemanly thoughts, and dismounted Feldspur, who also tried to remind him of his manners.
“You might want to, um… you know…” “Ok, yeah.”
He moved towards the girl as she brushed off her tumble, extending his hand in case she needed assistance. He was prepared to feel terrible if he’d actually brought her harm.
“I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you there, you must have..”
As soon as he spoke, she turned towards him. The moonlight finally revealed her face, and Fiyero was dumb-stricken.
“...blended with the foliage.”
He realized instantly how stupid he sounded, but prayed that maybe this green girl would find his idiocy at least a little bit charming.
She did not.
“Is this how you go through life? Just running amuck and trampling anyone in your path?”
Fiyero was as taken aback by her words as he was by her complexion, and he panicked. “No…”
He could hear Feldspur chuckling at his expense, so clearly he was embarrassing himself, but some terrible instinct within told him to attempt humor again. “No, sometimes I’m asleep.”
He tried to signal to her that laughter was the appropriate response, but she merely stared at him in mild disgust. With a deep sigh, she launched into her well rehearsed introduction.
“Alright, here we go. No, I’m not seasick.” They were firmly on land, why would she be seasick? “Neither am I,” he assured her.
She stepped closer to him as she spoke, which might have been intimidating if she wasn’t so petite.
“No. I did not eat grass as a child.” She had to be toying with him now. “Oh you didn’t? I did!”
“And yes, I have always been green.”
It was the way she said that last bit, like she was preparing for mockery. He was intrigued.
“And the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?”
Fiyero knew he’d finally said something clever, because she narrowed her eyes at him without response. He gave her his best smolder, historically foolproof, but she was immune.
As she turned to pick up her fallen lantern, Feldspur trotted up behind him, chortling at Fiyero’s utter failure to charm this young woman. He shushed his companion, but when he turned to face the green girl again, she looked at him with such disappointment it almost made him feel guilty. Surely she didn’t think they were laughing at her?
Feldspur whispered, “Should we ask her for directions?” which brought him back to his current predicament. He couldn’t very well expose his navigational woes to this girl who clearly hated him, but maybe there was a way to solve both of his problems.
“I’m off for some more trampling, may we offer you a ride?”
Her strut was aggressive as she left him behind, and she answered without so much as a glance back, “No thanks. Get stuffed.”
He watched her walk away, trying not to be bothered by her rejection.
“Wow, Feldspur, we have just been spurned by a girl.” “Ah, indeed.”
Shrugging off the ego hit, he smirked. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Mounting Feldspur, he figured if he followed the general direction of the green girl, he’d find his way eventually.
As he rode, their collision replaying in his mind, he realized that he forgot to ask for the pretty foliage’s name. Who was that sweet creature he’d almost trampled?
So much happened before Elphaba went off to see the Wizard, before Fiyero thought he lost her forever.
The Land of What-Might-Have-Been will unfold as a two-part narrative, reading between the lines to reveal the complete love story of Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero Tigelaar.
This fic is primarily inspired by the musical and its film adaptation, with literary influences throughout. Wildest Dreamings will cover the canon events of Part/Act 1, expanding upon the characters and relationships we know and love.
READ ON AO3
Chapter 1: Prologue
Glinda the Good stood in the Wizard’s throne room in a state of shimmering disbelief, the two people she loved most in the world before her.
Her long lost best friend she’d just embraced for the first time in years, and her perfectly imperfect fiancé who clearly had misplaced his mind.
He was going with her?
“What? What are you saying?” Glinda looked frantically between the two of them, their eyes locked together in some deep conversation she couldn’t hear. This was not the first time she’d witnessed this silent dance of theirs, but only now did she realize the implification.
“You mean, all this time... the two of you... behind my back?”
This broke Elphaba’s trance, and she turned to face her friend’s accusatory, teary glare. “No! Glinda, it wasn't like that!”
Fiyero could see that despite everything, she was still trying to protect Glinda’s heart. He loved her for it, but he could no longer hide the truth.
“Actually, it was…” he smiled soberly at Elphaba, then regretfully at Glinda, “but it wasn't.”
Both witches looked at him with their brows furrowed, trying to make sense of what he was implying. He knew Glinda deserved to know the whole story, but there wasn’t enough time; Elphaba’s safety mattered more to him.
“Fae, we have to get out of here, let's go... let's go!” Grasping her hand tightly, he led them away to finally embrace their rebellion in earnest.
Glinda bounced after them in a fit, her rage bubbling to the surface. “Fine, go! You deserve each other!”
