The Uplands
The train lurched to a stop, the sharp screech of metal against metal cutting through the steady hum of travel.
Elphaba sat motionless for a second, fingers curled around the strap of her bag, stomach twisting despite herself.
She exhaled, forcing herself to stand, adjusting the weight of her bag on her shoulder before stepping out onto the platform.
The cold hit immediately, sharp and crisp, biting against her skin even through her coat.
The station was cleaner than the one in Munchkinland. Quieter, too.
And then—
She saw her.
Glinda stood just past the car park, coat wrapped tightly around her, watching the train like she had been standing there for far too long.
She wasn’t bouncing on her heels, wasn’t tapping at her phone, wasn’t doing anything but waiting.
And the second their eyes met—
Her entire face lit up.
Elphaba stopped short, throat tight, fingers curling reflexively against the strap of her bag.
It had been a handful of days since they’d last seen each other.
It felt longer.
Glinda didn’t rush to her, didn’t move at all.
She just let her come.
Elphaba forced herself to close the distance, forcing down everything in her chest, pushing past the way her body felt like it had been unclenching for the first time in days.
The second she was close enough, Glinda reached out, hands gripping her arms, not quite pulling her in, but not letting go, either.
“Elphie, you look exhausted.”
Elphaba huffed, “That’s because I am.”
Glinda rolled her eyes and reached for her bag before Elphaba could protest. “Come on, let’s get inside before you collapse on the pavement.”
She steered her toward the car, and Elphaba didn’t bother arguing.
The Upland driver was already waiting, standing beside the sleek black vehicle, posture perfect, hands clasped, face unreadable.
“Elphaba,” he greeted politely.
Elphaba blinked.
He knew her name?
Glinda just gave her a smirk, nudging her toward the open door. “Told you everyone knows who you are.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes but climbed in, sinking into the obnoxiously soft leather seat.
Glinda followed, the door shutting with a soft thud, and the car pulled away from the station, winding through Frottica’s pristine, polished streets.
For a while, it was quiet.
Then Glinda shifted toward her.
“You really left.”
Elphaba glanced over, quirking a brow.“You thought I wouldn’t?”
Glinda tilted her head. “I thought you might change your mind.”
Elphaba let her gaze drift out the window, watching the manicured lawns, the massive estates, the untouched wealth.
“Not this time.”
One week.
That was all she had to get through.
Glinda’s fingers brushed against her sleeve, almost absentminded.
“Good.”
Neither of them spoke after that.
Elphaba let her body unwind, her shoulders loosening just slightly.
She was still tired.
Still drained.
Still not sure if she’d made the right decision.
But she wasn’t alone.
The Upland estate came into view, gleaming white against the dull winter sky, sprawling and perfect in a way that made Elphaba’s stomach clench.
It looked impenetrable.
Unshaken by time, by conflict, by anything at all.
It was not Colwen Grounds.
Not even close.
Glinda slipped out of the car first, watching her carefully.
She didn’t ask if she was okay.
Didn’t ask if she needed anything.
She just waited.
Elphaba let out a slow breath.
Glinda’s hand brushed against hers, a fleeting squeeze before she pulled back.
“Ready?”
Elphaba didn’t answer.
She just followed Glinda inside.
The house was too quiet.
Elphaba had expected something louder, something busier—but the Upland estate was nothing like Colwen Grounds.
There were no lingering staff, no distant voices, no echoing footsteps on marble floors.
Just silence.
Glinda led her upstairs, moving easily through the space, not bothering to whisper, not worried about waking anyone.
Elphaba followed, her bag still slung over her shoulder, jaw tight, shoulders tense.
She didn’t know what to do with herself.
Didn’t know how to fit into this house.
Glinda, of course, didn’t give her the chance to think about it.
The moment they reached the bedroom, she nudged the door open, flipping on the soft overhead light.
Elphaba stepped inside cautiously, eyes flicking over the space.
The bed was immaculate, the room perfectly decorated, the nightstand already set up with a glass of water she knew she’d forget to drink.
And it was—
Glinda’s room.
Not the guest room.
Not something separate, formal, distant.
Just hers.
Elphaba hesitated near the door, fingers tightening on the strap of her bag.
Glinda sighed, closing the door behind them before stepping forward, pressing her hands to Elphaba’s shoulders and physically turning her toward the bed.
“You’re not a guest.”
Elphaba huffed, but she didn’t argue.
She let her bag drop to the floor, watching as Glinda moved toward the dresser, grabbing an oversized T-shirt and tossing it at her.
“Put that on, and then get in bed.”
Elphaba caught the shirt, quirking a brow. “Bossy.”
Glinda grinned, already grabbing a brush and sitting in front of the vanity. “I know.”
Elphaba sighed but toed off her shoes, peeling off her sweater and swapping it for the soft, ridiculously scented fabric Glinda had thrown at her.
By the time she climbed into bed, Glinda had finished brushing her hair, turning off the light before slipping in beside her.
It should have felt strange.
Should have felt too intimate.
Instead, it felt—
Easy.
Like they’d done this a thousand times.
Like Elphaba wasn’t a last-minute guest in a house that wasn’t hers.
Glinda shifted under the covers, rolling onto her side to face her.
“You’re not going to sleep.”
Elphaba snorted, staring at the ceiling. “I’m exhausted.”
“And yet.”
Elphaba sighed, turning her head slightly to look at her. “I’ll sleep.”
Glinda hummed, unconvinced. “You’d better. You’re meeting my parents tomorrow, and I need you to at least pretend to be charming.”
Elphaba smirked.“I’m always charming.”
Glinda reached out, brushing her fingers along the edge of her sleeve, tracing patterns over the fabric.
“You’re home now, you know.”
Elphaba’s breath caught.
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t know how.
But after a second, Glinda didn’t seem to need one.
She just scooted closer, her forehead gently pressing against Elphaba’s shoulder.
And Elphaba—
Let her.
She let herself sink down, let herself feel the weight of exhaustion, let herself exist in a place that wasn’t Colwen Grounds.
Let herself belong.
At least for now.
Elphaba woke up warm.
For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, she wasn’t cold.
And for the first time in longer than that, she didn’t wake up with a knot in her chest, bracing for impact.
Instead, there was softness.
Soft blankets, soft sheets, soft curls tickling her collarbone.
Glinda.
Elphaba blinked blearily, her brain still half-asleep, her body heavy with exhaustion.
Glinda was draped over her, one arm tucked under her cheek, the other thrown shamelessly across Elphaba’s waist.
Their legs were tangled together, Glinda’s thigh hooked over hers, her breath warm against Elphaba’s neck.
She should move.
They should move.
They were supposed to be downstairs for breakfast, supposed to be presentable, supposed to be acting like nothing was different.
But Glinda shifted, pressing closer, and suddenly, Elphaba didn’t care about breakfast.
Didn’t care about where they were.
Didn’t care about anything but this.
Glinda sighed sleepily, her fingers drifting lazily across Elphaba’s stomach where her shirt had ridden up in the night. Her nails traced light, featherlike patterns against bare skin, aimless, teasing.
Elphaba exhaled sharply, her body betraying her immediately.
Glinda smiled against her shoulder, clearly feeling the way Elphaba tensed beneath her touch.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, syrupy and slow.
Elphaba clenched her jaw, staring at the ceiling. “Glinda.”
It was supposed to be a warning.
It sounded more like a plea.
Glinda hummed, pressing her lips lightly against Elphaba’s jaw—just a hint of warmth, the barest tease of a kiss.
“You’re so tense,” she observed, voice maddeningly casual, her fingertips continuing their lazy exploration over Elphaba’s ribs.
Elphaba sucked in a breath, but she didn’t stop her.
Didn’t move away.
Couldn’t move away.
Glinda shifted, pressing her thigh more firmly between Elphaba’s, her fingers slipping just beneath the hem of Elphaba’s shirt now, testing, daring.
Elphaba’s breath hitched.
Glinda noticed.
She always noticed.
Her lips brushed lower, pressing another soft, unhurried kiss just beneath Elphaba’s jaw.
Then another.
Then—
Elphaba turned her head, and suddenly, their lips were brushing.
Glinda stilled for a second, her breath catching, her fingers tightening ever so slightly where they rested against Elphaba’s stomach.
Then—
She kissed her.
Soft, but deliberate.
Lazy, but lingering.
Not a question.
A choice.
Elphaba’s hand moved before she could think, her fingers finding Glinda’s waist, pulling her in closer, deeper.
Glinda sighed against her lips, shifting slightly—
And then—
Elphaba’s phone buzzed.
Loud. Insistent. Inescapable.
Elphaba groaned, reaching blindly for it.
Elphaba sighed, but her eyes flicked toward the screen.
Missed Calls (15) – Frex
Missed Calls (9) – Nessa
“Elphie, put the phone down.”
Elphaba hesitated. “They’re going to keep calling.”
“Then let them.”
She pressed a kiss to Elphaba’s shoulder this time, slower, deeper, more intentional.
Elphaba exhaled sharply, fingers tightening against Glinda’s waist before she reluctantly pulled back.
“Glinda, we can’t—”
Glinda huffed, frustrated.“Why not?”
Elphaba swallowed, glancing at the door.“Your parents—”
Glinda rolled her eyes, flopping onto her back dramatically. “They haven’t stepped foot in my room in years.”
Elphaba stared at her.“Are you sure?”
Glinda smirked, reaching out and trailing her fingers over Elphaba’s stomach again, just because she could.“Positive.”
Elphaba caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before dropping it against the mattress.
Glinda beamed.“You’re getting bolder, Elphie.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes.“I’d just like to have this conversation without being—”
A knock.
Loud. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Both of them froze.
A voice—crisp, formal, distinctly not amused.
“Miss Glinda, your parents are waiting.”
Glinda groaned, flopping face-first into the pillow.
Elphaba dragged a shaky hand down her face. “Of course they are.”
Glinda exhaled deeply, eyes flicking over to her.
Elphaba was still tense, still flushed, still looking like she was trying to figure out what just happened.
Glinda grinned, reaching over and brushing a finger lightly over her stomach again.
Elphaba jerked back. “Stop that.”
Glinda giggled, utterly pleased with herself.
Elphaba glared, then exhaled sharply, pushing the blankets off.“Come on. Let’s go be respectable.”
Glinda pouted.“Respectable is so boring.”
Elphaba smirked. “Then you shouldn’t have picked now to get distracted.”
Glinda gasped. “Me? You were the one letting me!”
Elphaba grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her head.
Glinda squealed, shoving it away before scrambling out of bed.
The moment was gone.
For now.
But Elphaba knew they weren’t finished.
Not even close.
Elphaba had been in far more daunting rooms than this one.
The grand dining hall was bright and refined, every detail meticulously curated—from the imported floral arrangements to the carefully folded linen napkins. The morning light poured through tall, elegant windows, casting golden hues over the polished mahogany table set with fine china and glistening silverware.
Elphaba knew this world.
She had been raised in it.
So when she entered, she didn’t falter. She moved with the same practiced grace she had learned in her father’s estate—shoulders back, chin high, perfectly measured strides.
Glinda entered beside her, a natural in this setting, but as Elphaba glanced at her, she caught something in her eyes—something soft, something undeniably admiring.
Elphaba smirked.
Lady Upland’s gaze flicked over them both, her expression cool, unreadable, though there was something distinctly calculating in the way she observed Elphaba.
Lord Upland, as expected, didn’t immediately acknowledge them, his focus still on his tablet, flipping through whatever news had his attention.
Glinda squeezed Elphaba’s hand briefly before releasing it and stepping forward.
“Good morning, Momsie, Popsicle.”
Elphaba bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing outright.
Lady Upland sighed, but extended a perfectly manicured hand toward her daughter, beckoning her closer. “Sit, darling.” Her gaze lingered on Elphaba. “And introduce your guest properly.”
A test.
Elphaba knew exactly how to pass it.
She stepped forward, offering Lady Upland a polite, measured smile—not too eager, not too distant.
“Lady Upland, it’s an honor. Lord Upland, a pleasure.”
Lord Upland’s attention snapped up immediately.
Glinda inhaled sharply, eyes flicking toward Elphaba like she was seeing her in a whole new light.
Because she was.
Lady Upland paused, clearly not expecting Elphaba to sound like she belonged.
But of course, she did.
Because she had been raised among men like these, among women like these, among expectations and facades and calculated social chess games.
Lady Upland hummed. “You were raised well, Miss Thropp.”
Elphaba smiled sweetly, the perfect mask of refinement. “I do my best.”
Glinda, beside her, had stiffened slightly, her fingers pressing against the table in a way that made Elphaba smirk.
She was enjoying this.
Glinda Upland was turned on by this.
Elphaba tucked that knowledge away for later.
The table was already set—poached eggs, fresh fruit, flaky croissants arranged artfully on delicate porcelain plates. A pitcher of cream sat beside an ornate teapot, the scent of lavender and honey curling into the air.
Glinda took her seat first, Elphaba smoothly following suit.
She reached for her napkin, unfolding it with fluid ease, every movement deliberate.
Lady Upland watched her closely, and Elphaba could feel the scrutiny.
Good. Let her watch.
Elphaba reached for the teapot first, tilting it gracefully, pouring a precise, steady stream into Glinda’s cup before smoothly offering it to Lady Upland.
“Would you care for some, ma’am?”
Lady Upland hesitated for half a second before inclining her head. “Yes, please.”
Elphaba poured it with impeccable precision, not a single drop out of place, then set the pot down with a gentle clink, before folding her hands neatly in her lap, waiting.
Glinda, beside her, was still staring.
Like Elphaba had just performed witchcraft in front of her.
Lord Upland finally spoke, eyes sharp, assessing. “You’re the Governor’s daughter.”
Elphaba lifted a perfectly composed brow.“That’s correct.”
He hummed, flipping a page on his tablet. “Didn’t think he’d send you to Shiz.”
Elphaba smiled, unbothered. “He didn’t.”
That got Lady Upland’s attention.
Glinda’s fingers curled slightly around her fork, tense.
Elphaba, however, remained completely at ease, slicing into her eggs with measured precision.
“It was my choice.”
Lady Upland tilted her head slightly. “Your father must have been… reluctant.”
Elphaba exhaled a quiet laugh, sipping her tea. “You could say that.”
Lady Upland’s eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. “And yet, here you are.”
Elphaba met her gaze evenly, holding it.“Here I am.”
Another test.
Another perfect pass.
Lady Upland stirred her tea once before finally sitting back, offering a small, approving nod.“Interesting.”
Glinda was staring.
Elphaba smirked into her cup.
The conversation shifted toward Glinda’s studies, her professors, the upcoming semester.
Elphaba let it drift, silently drinking her tea, watching Glinda navigate the conversation with trained ease.
But every so often—Glinda’s gaze flickered toward her.
Like she couldn’t help it.
Like she was trying to reconcile the image of Elphaba—the dark, sharp girl in the corner of the classroom—with this girl.
The girl who knew exactly how to charm her way through a room full of social climbers.
The girl who had Lady Upland intrigued, not unimpressed.
The girl who had just effortlessly poured her tea.
Glinda was not okay.
And Elphaba was enjoying it.
Too much.
Lady Upland eventually turned her attention back to her. “So, how long will you be staying, Miss Thropp?”
Elphaba offered a polite smile.“Just until the end of the break.”
Lady Upland nodded, clearly satisfied with that answer.
“Well, I trust you’ll find our home comfortable.”
Elphaba dipped her head slightly. “I already do.”
Lady Upland’s lips curved slightly.“Good.”
Glinda exhaled sharply, picking up her teacup with a slightly unsteady hand.
Elphaba pressed just a little closer, just enough for their knees to brush beneath the table.
Glinda squeaked.
Elphaba smirked.
Lady Upland didn’t notice.
Lord Upland went back to reading.
But Glinda knew.
Glinda felt it.
And from the way her fingers trembled slightly around her spoon, from the way she couldn’t stop looking at Elphaba, from the way her breath hitched when Elphaba simply reached for a croissant—
Elphaba knew she had won.