Chapter 1
Galinda was acutely aware of Elphaba Thropp's oddities.
It came with the territory of sharing a room with Shiz’s resident green witch. Her distinct verdigris, along with the truly impressive amount of power she wielded with every sudden and intense shift in emotions—positive or otherwise—were always the first traits to be pointed out. Naturally, those had been the first things Galinda noticed as well.
Her initial reaction to Elphaba’s dissimilarities was not entirely appropriate, Galinda can admit, but her intentions had been honestly well placed to start! She hadn’t meant to come off as shallow and indelicate as was later brought to her attention. And really, the green skinned woman was quite pretty, not even despite the mossy hue of her skin, but partially because of it.
Regardless, Galinda had no choice but to get used to the phenomenon that was Elphaba Thropp once she unknowingly volunteered to share her space with the young woman. She’d been floored at first, absolutely outraged at the notion that she would be sharing her pre-approved private quarters with a last-minute enrollment. Elphaba didn’t even have any classes in order.
None except for Morrible’s private sorcery seminar. Oh, Galinda had been furious.
So, perhaps she’d made Elphaba’s first few weeks at Shiz a bit more difficult than they needed to be. Honestly, though, how was she supposed to know the whole of the school would follow in her loathsome footsteps? And what else was she supposed to do when Elphaba remained so perfectly unmoored at Galinda’s every attempt to ruffle her viridescent feathers? Surely not back down!
So, Galinda kept at it.
She whispered and giggled with her classmates during lectures, taking sideway glances at the perfectly poised scholar as she scribbled crooked, loopy notes into her leatherbound journals.
She laughed loudly and obviously at admittedly boring and overused jokes about her roommate’s green skin and brooding nature with passersby during lunch hours.
She put her all into sparring when she was inevitably paired with the young sorceress, everyone else strongly against getting close enough to accidentally come in contact with green skin (this one was usually futile; Elphaba was much more solid than she looked, and seemingly well-practiced. The speed and agility that came with being as dainty and lithe as Galinda could only get her so far).
It was tiring honestly, constantly staying on the lookout for new ways to get under her roommate’s thick skin. By the time that block-headed Winkie prince had strolled into Shiz’s book place behind Galinda, she’d been ready to give the teasing and torture a rest (unsure which of the two of them it was affecting more) and put her attention on something actually worth her time: courting Fiyero Tigelaar.
Fiyero was as tall and handsome as he was carefree and charming, a wonderful distraction with his artfully windswept blonde hair and straight, white smile. He was the picture perfect boy, fitting into all of Galinda’s dreams of a picture perfect future. A handsome prince, a beautiful home in the Emerald City, the adoring smiles of Ozians from all different corners of the land. She could practically pick him up and place him into her visions like a snug, heart-shaped puzzle piece.
She’d played coy when he asked to be her date to the Ozdust, but inside she was jumping for joy as she accepted his offer. She’d spent hours in her room with Pfannee and Shenshen, Elphaba curiously absent for the majority of the ordeal. Galinda had put on her best, most scandalocious dress and heels and pulled her hair into a half-up style she was well aware drew attention to the dip of her collarbone and the smooth expanse of her neck, gesturing over her shoulder at her friends and insisting they help her locate the perfect matching necklace.
She Oz-near shrieked when Pfannee pulled her grandmother’s hat from one of Galinda’s many bubblegum-colored trunks scattered strategically about the suite, resisting the urge to snatch the wayward thing from his nosy hands and tuck it protectively to her chest. Sure, she could admit it’s hideoteousness without hesitation, but that didn’t make it any less dear to her—artfully, lovingly crafted by her Granny some years ago. It was somewhat important to her, even as she joked about how it was stitched awkwardly and went with none of her wardrobe and stuck out like a sore thumb in the bright pink of her side of the room. Truly, it looked as it belonged in Elphaba’s plainer, tidier, homier corner of the room.
Elphaba.
Galinda’s intentions as she’d presented the dark-haired woman with the sharp-pointed hat hadn’t been completely innocent, but they weren’t entirely cruel, either.
Honestly, it seemed to go with everything Elphaba owned. Her wardrobe was hardly dotted with a color that wasn’t stark white or deep, dark and moody. The crooked, old head-covering would surely fit in with at least a handful of Elphaba’s carefully crafted outfits. Galinda was sure it would be well taken care of, too, judging by her roommate’s small, well-worn shoe assortment and vast collection of frayed-page, old books. Elphaba took good care of her things.
And maybe, just maybe, Galinda thought she’d look good wearing it, too.
That, however, was only a miniscule part of the decision to gift it to her. It hardly weighed into the decision at all, really, could be completely overshadowed by Galinda’s not-so-innocent intentions of making Elphaba look silly at the Ozdust. If she even decided to show up at all. Which Galinda had almost positively, definishly been sure she wouldn’t.
Goodness, that Elphaba Thropp was full of surprises.
Being handed that Oz-damned training wand in the middle of the Ozdust ballroom had overshadowed any and every other moment Galinda had experienced at Shiz since she’d arrived. It was her life’s goal to become a sorceress, to make things sparkle and people smile and be good. It was the only thing that came before carefully crafted dreams of marrying princes and cradling soft, warm, miniature versions of herself. And she knew Madame Morrible had not even an ounce of faith in her abilities, but she was determined, desperate to prove her wrong.
And, oh, Miss Elphaba.
Galinda had watched the rare hope and excitement fade from her usually stony expression. Galinda had watched the hauntingly beautiful, steadfast and brave sorceress approach the center of the dance floor with more determination than Galinda would ever possess with so many eyes on her, even as a young girl who’d grown up right under the bulb of public scrutiny, who’d spent years honing her people skills and learning how to work a crowd to her advantage.
She’d watched Elphaba spin and kick and twist with all the grace of someone who had so much to give, with nowhere to put it and no one willing to reciprocate.
The shame hit before she’d had the decency to hide the incriminating training wand behind her back, Elphaba’s eyes meeting hers from across the dance floor. Galinda could all but drown in those deep, dark mossy pools of green, chest tightening as the low lights made the tears on her waterline glint and sparkle as she held Galinda’s gaze.
She wasn’t thinking when she shoved her new training wand into Fiyero’s hands and slinked cautiously to the center of the ballroom. Elphaba looked like she expected more berating and teasing, mirroring each of Galinda’s steps forward with one step back. Galinda couldn’t blame her, what with the way the crowd surrounding them was giggling and whispering, mocking her. Perhaps waiting for Galinda to deliver the final, humiliating blow.
Galinda made it of utmost importance to communicate her mirrored dancing as regret rather than mocking. They were in a similar position as they were upon their first meeting, but the blonde wanted to get it right this time. Despite her penchant for swaying a crowd with saccharine sweet words and fluttering lashes, Elphaba seemed to reduce her to little more than a bumbling, miscommunicating mess. Her best bet was no words. So, she danced.
Oh, how relieved, how grateful she felt when Elphaba seemed to understand, how pleased she was to watch and mimic Elphaba’s sweet, silly, vulnerable little dance, to wipe her tears and embrace her right there in the middle of the Ozdust. She’d hardly registered the rest of the students hesitantly, beginning to dance as well. Her heart was too busy swelling with the way Elphaba was looking at her, so bright and forgiving and a little nervous. She slid her hand into a green one and interlocked their fingers, tugging Elphaba back to the docks a glowing, giggly mess.
The moon had shone on the way back, glimmering and just shy of being full. It smoothed across the side of Elphaba’s face in a soft caress and Galinda couldn’t fathom how she’d ever looked at this beautifully verdant, elegant young woman with anything other than awe.
Elphaba hadn’t let go of her hand as they took shaky steps onto a boat, and Galinda’s heart hammered rapidly in her chest as she squeezed gently, still too scared to speak out loud and potentially shatter whatever feeble trust was building between them. She wanted her to know that she was truly regretful, that what she’d done back there hadn’t been just for show.
As she watched Elphaba chew almost anxiously on a full bottom lip, eyes turned to the water lapping gently at the side of their boat, the only thing she could think to say was “It looks good on you.”
Elphaba’s gaze shot up from the water, her head tilting in question. Galinda had the strongest, most sudden urge to reach out and cup her cheek. Instead, she briefly squeezed her hand again, smiling softly even as her heart threatened to jump from her chest and swim back to Crage Hall itself. “The hat, I mean. It really does suit you,” Then after a moment, “…and smiling as well. You have a wonderful smile. I will absolutively have to get you to do it more often.”
The close-lipped smile and quiet chuckle Galinda got in return was more than worth the floundering and blushing she was sure would have been visible on her cheeks in any other lighting. In just under a day, she’d gone from loathing the sight of her to craving her gap-toothed grin. Galinda wondered briefly if she’d ever loathed the girl to begin with.
Not once did she think about Morrible or Fiyero or the training wand she’d thrust his way to meet Elphaba in the middle of the dance floor. None of it seemed to matter as much as the sage green hand gently squeezing back in grateful acknowledgement.
After that night, the friendship had blossomed easily.
Galinda pranced around the halls of Shiz University practically glued to Elphaba’s—Elphie’s—side, perfectly manicured hands tucked in the crook of the older girl’s elbow. Suddenly, they were attached at the hip, inseparable in every class they shared and almost immediately back hand-in-hand following every class they didn’t.
The shift was lightning quick and a bit unnerving for Elphaba, but she settled into it with surprising ease, much to Galinda’s delight. She was learning more and more things about her each day, like how she had a surprisingly avid sense of humor, no matter how dry, and how she enjoyed passionately rambling about whatever book she was currently reading whenever she had a willing ear to listen. She took a horrendous amount of sugar in her tea, and she put a file and a bit of clear polish to her sharp, expertly maintained nails every other weekend without fail. She was wry and attentive and sweet in her own Elphaba-like way.
And past the verdigris and the boundless magic, she was even more odd than Galinda had anticipated.