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The carriage shook heavily along the road. The Yellow Brick Road was well-maintained near to Emerald City, but further into the country—around Nest Hardings where they were riding now—the road hadn’t gotten any repairs since it was first built many decades ago. Elphaba just hoped the luggage strapped on top of the roof wouldn’t topple over.
“How much further?” Glinda asked wearily. Her gloved, dainty hand clutched at the furbished interior as she held on for dear life.
Elphaba peered out the window to estimate where they were. “Not much further,” she said. “I recognize the grain mill over there from my travels. Less than an hour, I’d say.”
“Good grief,” Glinda puffed and braced herself for the next, inevitable pothole.
“I could tell the driver to stop for a while?” She offered.
Glinda shook her head. “No, please, don’t drag this out more than it needs to.”
“Very well.”
Her gaze wandered back to the landscape unfolding behind the window. They were traveling deep in The Corn Basket, where nothing but farming fields were spread as far as the eye could see. It was the unmistakable sight of home.
Home, Elphaba thought, her stomach twisting in knots. She was going back home and there was no running away from it this time. Not with Father’s unexpected death. Not with Nessarose and Shell not yet of age. As the eldest, she was the head of the family now. Barely eighteen and already responsible for a whole household. What a wicked fate.
At least the funeral was behind her now. She had dropped everything when she first heard the news to travel to Munchkinland. After the most urgent arrangements had been dealt with, she briefly returned to Shiz University. To pack the rest of her stuff, to tell Madame Morrible personally that she would be dropping out of school, to say goodbye to Glinda.
Glinda. She mostly had returned for Glinda. To see her one last time. So much had changed in so little time and she needed to explain it to her in person. If she had sent a letter, Glinda would never have forgiven her. Foolish, in retrospect, to think Glinda would say goodbye quietly.
Vapid, wonderful, beautiful Glinda—who currently was trying her best not to spill her lunch all over the carriage—had been hellbound on accompanying her back to Colwen Grounds. Elphaba had no clue why. No reason, no logic, not a single argument would get through to her. So after a day, Elphaba had conceded and Glinda had jumped with giddiness.
Elphaba wasn’t so sure it was such a great idea. Sure, the last couple of months their relationship had progressed beyond that of a roommate or even a best friend. But Glinda had only ever known her at Shiz. She was quite a different creature when around her dysfunctional family.
Not that it would matter anymore. Elphaba still wasn’t quite certain what exactly they were, and their time together had now abruptly been cut short. For how much longer could they pretend there was a future for them?
Elphaba swallowed down the thought. “Remind me, how long do you plan to stay at Colwen Grounds?”
“Until you are settled, dear. Like I told you many times before.”
“Right. And you’ve discussed this…” Elphaba pondered on the right phrasing for a moment, “...sabbatical with Madame Morrible, correct?”
“Yes, Elphie, I did.”
She could tell Glinda was getting irritated by the line of questioning. Too afraid to continue the conversation, Elphaba simply nodded and stared out the window again.
A few more weeks then, she thought to herself. That was all the time they’d have together. Then Glinda would go back to Shiz to continue her studies, and she would remain here, looking after her family. Die a spinster and bear a title she despised.
All her dreams, her research with Dr. Dillamond, her academic ambitions had turned to dust. All because her father died before it was his time. She wanted to bury the fecker all over again.
The carriage shook harshly and Elphaba grabbed Glinda by the shoulders before she could topple over. It brought her right back to her senses. Enough wallowing in self pity. For the time being, Glinda was still by her side. She couldn’t waste that time thinking about her miserable future.
She needed to make the most of the present. Before there was no more present to look forward to.
--
Not much longer after that, they arrived at Colwen Grounds. The gates around the property a reminder of her lifelong prison sentence.
Glinda squeezed her hand, pulling her out of her somber thoughts. She had significantly improved since the carriage had stopped moving and gave Elphaba a comforting smile. “You ready?”
“I doubt I will ever be ready for this.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’ll get you through this my darling Elphie.”
Elphaba nodded slightly, not feeling particularly reassured. Though that was not Glinda’s fault; that honor went entirely to her own paranoid brain.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said with a sigh and stepped out of the vehicle.
At the front door, Shell, Nessa and Nanny were awaiting their arrival. Elphaba stepped out first, shooed the driver away to go fetch the luggage, and held out a hand for Glinda to reach as she stepped out the vehicle.
Her siblings gaped as Glinda came into view. Right. Elphaba hadn’t bothered to write them in advance of her unexpected companion. But as they walked closer, she noticed there was something else too. It was the air surrounding Glinda; her colorful dress with many frills, her golden Gillikin curls and perfect face that caught her siblings’ attention. Beautiful. Elegant. Charming. Glinda was the exact opposite of Elphaba in that regard. Her siblings must be wondering how two people so seemingly dissimilar would get along. Elphaba still wondered about that too.
“Good afternoon, family,” she greeted them and gave them all a quick embrace. “May I introduce you to Glinda of the Arduenna Clan?”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintances,” Glinda said with a respectable bow of the head.
“The roommate?”
Elphaba had mentioned Glinda once or twice in her letters to Nessa. The way she was suspiciously eyeing Glinda, Elphaba worried she had written about her a bit too fondly.
“You’re not a Munchkin!” Shell piped up.
Glinda laughed charmingly. “No, I am not. I am Gillikin, born and raised.”
She gave him a wink, which hit bullseye. Little Shell turned bright red and hid his face. Glinda’s radiance had struck another victim. Even the young were not spared, Elphaba thought sympathetically.
Ever pragmatic, Nanny didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I will prepare the guest room for your traveling companion.”
“Spare the effort, Nanny,” she was quick to interrupt. “No need to clean the guest bedroom on such short notice. I shall share my bedchambers with Glinda. We’ve shared a room for two years in Crage Hall, why, it would be most odd to stop sharing now.”
“As you wish, dearie,” Nanny said with a shrug, not caring where their unannounced guest would sleep, whether it be on the bathroom floor tiles or in a barn.
Elphaba celebrated the small victory in silence and with flushed cheeks. Somewhere in the back, the driver was struggling with the many suitcases, most of them were Glinda’s.
Nanny clapped her hands to gather attention. “Let’s go inside, shall we? These bones no longer agree with the cold.”
It wasn’t cold at all, but Nanny hadn’t bothered to put a cloak on. Nobody felt like objecting to an old woman’s wishes though, and they followed behind Nanny into the estate.
As Elphaba passed by Glinda, she briefly squeezed her hand, which was rewarded with a smile. The first hurdle had successfully been passed.
--
The moment since she stepped into the manor, Elphaba knew something was off. It was clear this was a house still in grievance and as the eldest, Elphaba felt the responsibility to take care of them all. Only she should bear this burden. Her siblings needed to have a normal childhood, as much as it was normal to have two dead parents before reaching maturity. The question she now needed to solve was how to provide that normalcy. A particularly difficult conundrum for a green girl.
They hauled their suitcases to her room and left it unpacked so they could help Nanny prepare supper. Nanny babbled about something or another, but Elphaba didn’t heed it any mind. She did notice the several glances Glinda threw in her direction, but she didn’t pay attention to those either. So much for cherishing her final weeks with Glinda…
It was at dinner that the weird tension finally shattered by none other than Nessarose. Elphaba had just finished serving up the last plate and went to the only available seat left.
“That’s Father’s seat!” Nessa nearly shrieked.
“And where else, pray tell, would you have me sit if not for this chair?” Elphaba said, gesturing around the table.
“Anywhere but the head of the table.”
She shouldn’t have, but Elphaba provoked her anyway. “Aren’t I the new head of this family?” She put down her plate and sat down demonstratively.
Nessa bristled. “You are so childish, Fabala! Father is not even gone for a month and you dare challenge his place in this household?”
“Enough you two,” Nanny tried to break them off, but it was too late.
“Challenge his place? Father’s place is in the ground, last time I checked!”
“You miserable hag!” Nessa yelled back. “You never cared for Father, did you? I bet you are happy he died. Now there’s no parent left to scold you. To put you in your place.”
“Nessa, enough!”
Elphaba’s jaw locked. “Oh, don’t you worry, dear Nessie. Father has made sure he put me in a place I can no longer escape. When he drew his premature, final breath, he doomed me to a life I thought I had finally escaped.”
She looked down at her untouched plate. Not even half a day at home and she already failed her responsibility. Typical. “I seem to have lost my appetite. Please, excuse me,” she said, and left the dining room with her eyes trained on the ground.
She rushed up the stairs and retreated to her bedroom. From the clattering of cutlery and very little chatter, she could tell nobody would disturb her for a while. With nothing else to do, Elphaba decided to unpack. Just her own luggage of course. After that display, she was sure Glinda would be in a carriage back to Shiz by morrow.
A good while later, there was a knock on her door. Elphaba didn’t reply and the door opened carefully. Glinda stood before her, waiting to be beckoned in.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said instead.
“It was rather intense, yes.”
She closed the door and watched for a moment as Elphaba went through her suitcase. Most of her belongings were spread across the floor. She wanted to sort it first before putting it away. It looked like a mess instead.
“You didn’t touch any of my suitcases,” Glinda noted.
“I know better than to touch your stuff. We were roommates, remember?”
“We still are,” Glinda said, as she settled down next to Elphaba on the floor, her legs pulled to one side. “Thanks to your quick thinking at introductions.”
“You could have had your own grand guest room. Now you’re stuck with me, in a bed not meant for two.”
Her hand found hers. “You know I’d rather be with you than in some silly guest room, right?”
With her free hand she put another book on the pile. “It is clear you have not seen the guest bedroom. It’s quite marvelous.”
“Elphie,” her voice called her gently. “Look at me please.”
She swallowed. The power that Glinda held over her was evermore. She couldn’t even brood in peace. Elphaba tilted her head to meet her gaze. “I did try to warn you.” Her voice was awfully shrill, like she had cried the past hour. “I told you not to come.”
Glinda sushed her, pressing their foreheads together. “None of that. I came because I wanted to. Because I knew you’d need me here.”
“I do need you here,” Elphaba confessed, her fingers caressing Glinda’s cheek. “I do, I do. It’s only because of you that I feel capable of being here at all.”
For a clock tick, she got lost in the moment. The scent of Glinda’s perfume was overwhelming, her soft skin tantalizing and her sparkling eyes distracting. She wanted to lean in and kiss her again. They had shared so few kisses since her father’s death. And that was just it: she was in mourning, she could not indulge. She pulled away, before their lips could touch.
“Forgive me. As much as I want to, I can’t kiss you—not yet.”
Glinda nodded understandingly, though there was a hint of sadness when she said: “I know that. I’m not under any delusions on why we are here, Elphie.”
“Supper made that much clear, huh?”
Glinda nodded and grabbed one of her own suitcases and started to unpack. “Nanny left your plate. I’m sure it has gone cold, but she said that if you’re hungry, she can reheat it over a flame.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I barely ate myself, in full honesty. Nessa felt awful once you left. I’m sure she will apologize tomorrow.”
Elphaba snorted. “You have spent too little time within the Thropp household. We are not known for our apologies.”
Glinda shrugged with an air of smugness. “Fine. Don’t believe me. Just don’t get upset with me when she apologizes to you first thing in the morning.”
--
Glinda had been right. The next morning, Nessa was at Elphaba’s doorstep before breakfast with an apology on her lips. It had stunned Elphaba and she briefly wondered if Glinda was clairvoyant. Nothing of the sort was true. When talking to Nanny and Shell, it turned out that Nessarose felt so awful about the accusations, that she wanted to apologize immediately. Clever and compassionate as always, Glinda had suggested letting everybody cool off for the night. Amends could be made in the morning.
Elphaba could kiss her for that. How well she understood her! Nobody could read her mind like Glinda could. And it wasn’t just her either—Glinda had a knack for understanding others. How else was she able to fit in so well in just under a week? She entertained Shell and Nessa for hours on end without complaint, while Elphaba had to lock herself in Frexspar’s study, faltering over the paperwork she was now responsible for as head of the house.
She had hoped for at least a few years where Frex could show her the ropes. Now she had to figure it all out on her own. Elphaba stared down at the several accounts and proposals spread across the desk. She hardly ever handled money, how the hell was she supposed to keep these family books?
Elphaba was so wrapped up in these ledgers, she barely registered the knock on her door until golden curls peeked around the corner. “Elphie? Can I come in?”
“Oh. Of course,” she said, thankful for the interruption, and stood up like a gentleman would whenever a lady entered.
Glinda closed the door behind her and looked around the room. “So this is where you’ve been holed up the past days.”
“Yes, in my father’s study.”
Glinda walked in further, letting her fingers glide across the large bookcase covering most of the right wall. Her hand halted at one of the titles, and she pulled out the book. “Unionist texts?”
“Almost all of them are.”
“I figured those would be the first to go,” Glinda said, as she put the book back in its designated spot. “Make room for your vast collection in natural sciences.”
Not knowing what to do with her hands, she clasped them behind her back. “They will, one day.”
“But not now.”
She shook her head.
“Because this still is your father’s place even though it is now technically yours.”
“Correct.”
Glinda nodded in contemplation and walked up to her, finally revealing why she paid a visit. “I’ll be taking the children out for a walk in a bit. You should come.”
Children! She said it so casually. Like they were her own. Like they were married. “N-No, that’s alright. I have plenty of work ahead of me.”
“I know you do, but sitting in this study all day? Barely interacting with anyone? It’s not doing you any favors.”
“I’d say me not interacting is doing my surroundings plenty of favors.”
“Elphie,” she said in that sighing, doting, exasperating voice only reserved for her. Glinda took her hands and looked her deeply in the eyes. “Come with me.”
Oh, how cruel, Elphaba thought. Like she stood any chance against a pleading Glinda. “B-But I–” she cut herself short. This was a losing battle, and still she tried again. “Aren’t I supposed to be the responsible one?”
“You need a break. You need to be with your family and your family needs you in return.” Glinda hesitated for a moment, but then decided to say something a little more selfish. “We’ve been here nearly a week and I hardly see you anymore.”
It was true. Despite sharing a room, even a bed, they had rarely seen each other. She always came to bed late, when Glinda was already asleep. They only ever really saw each other at meals, which hardly counted with three other prying pairs of eyes around.
Glinda tugged at her hands. “A girl worries, you know?”
Elphaba laughed. “Oh, my sweet. My only companion has been these ledger books. There is no competition when it comes to you. None.”
“Then come with us. The fresh air will do wonders.”
It was unkind to keep an argument going that Glinda had won several times over. “Very well,” Elphaba conceded and snuck a peck on her cheek. “You gather the kids. I just need to finish this paragraph.”
Now she was the one who sounded married. With a flushed face, Elphaba sat back down behind her father’s desk and penned vigorously. Not quite certain if Glinda’s little giggle was imagined or not.
From the hallway, Glinda called Shell and Nessarose to gather. An energized Shell, who ran and then tumbled off the stairs, crashed with a yelp to the bottom. No harm seemed to be done and according to Nessa, who had sauntered over from the living room, this was almost a daily occurrence.
Glinda made sure everybody was wearing their cloak and a good pair of boots before she retrieved Elphaba from the study. Within half an hour, they were hiking up a path into the mountains, leaving Colwen Grounds manor far behind.
It remained quiet for a good while, with the exception of the occasional “watch your step” thrown around, until Nessarose spoke up.
“We’ve not trailed these paths in ages. I seem to have forgotten what a hassle hiking really is,” Nessa said, and halted her step, looking over the hilltop to reminisce. “Except for the view. I could never forget a view like that.”
Elphaba followed her gaze. The town of Colwen Grounds was displayed like a toy village made for a child. Quaint and idyllic from a distance. Small and unimportant even from afar. The spacious garden surrounding the manor a clear indicator where the Thropp estate lied.
“It reminds me quite a lot of the Pertha Hills, where I grew up. The view from those hiking trails was equally as magnificent.”
Elphaba perked her ears. “You never told me about that.”
“Haven’t I?”
She shook her head. “You talk very little about your hometown. Even less so than me.”
“Oh.” She was on the brink of revealing something personal, Elphaba could tell. But with company present, Glinda pivoted back to her socialite tendencies. “Well, Frottica isn’t much to talk about, really. I wouldn’t even know what to talk about.”
“Do they have corn in Frottica too?” Shell asked eagerly.
“No, not corn,” Glinda gave him a smile. “Lots of cows, though. Dairy is Frottica’s main export.”
“What about Cows?” Elphaba asked, unable to help herself.
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. We weren’t farmers,” Glinda waved off, and picked up the pace again. “Let’s continue shall we? I’ll bet a bit higher up the view is even more breathtaking.”
They climbed to the top of the hill. It was significantly colder here and the wind had picked up. Elphaba was grateful for the cloak she wore.
She needed this. They all needed this, by the looks of it. Her eyes wandered from the view over to Glinda. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that she had suggested taking a family hike. There was a depressing darkness they had all unknowingly been living in. As if the veil of Frexspar’s death hung over the estate, suffocating it from any light. Escaping that for a few hours gave new perspective, or at the very least a much needed distraction.
On the way back, Nessa suggested visiting Frexspar’s grave at the cemetery, near the local church. It seemed rude not to, so everybody agreed. Glinda stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of flowers to place onto the gravestone.
It was clear which gravestone was Frex’s by the sea of flowers surrounding it. Frexspar the Godly was well known by the local populace, for better or worse. But nobody held grievances against the dead, especially ones who died so young. Glinda took a few of the withering bouquets away and rearranged the rest to look nice. Then she gave the bouquet she bought to Shell and told him to place it wherever he liked.
Elphaba watched as her little brother started crying and her sister closed her eyes, lost in prayer. But she didn’t know what to feel or even how to behave. So she stepped back, let her siblings mourn in grief, and settled on a nearby stone bench. Waiting for an emotion to come.
Once Shell was done crying, he took Glinda’s hand, and tugged at it to gain her attention. Glinda sank through her knees and spoke quietly to not disturb Nessa’s prayers. “Yes, Shell?”
“Can I talk to him, or is that weird?” He whispered into her ear.
“No, of course not,” Glinda encouraged him. “What would you want to tell him?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Maybe your father would like to hear about your day? I know you made a wonderful craft the other day.”
Shell nodded, and thought for a moment before carefully talking about the past few days. How he’d wake up and expect Frex to call him and Nessa for breakfast, only to remember he’d never hear his voice again.
The more he talked, the more he started to talk like he normally would, in his rambly, excited and boyish way. Launching into several stories simultaneously with seemingly no correlation between them. Yet inevitably returning to the harsh reality of Father’s death.
Elphaba couldn’t listen to him anymore. It was unbearable. As best as she could she tried to tune him out, and focused on what she would say, if Frex could still hear her.
When Shell was done talking and Nessa had finished her prayers, they were ready to go back home. Except for Elphaba.
“Go ahead,” she told them, gesturing towards the grave. “I want a moment alone. I’ll see you back at the house.”
She waited until the others were out of earshot before she got up from her seat. Now that she had the floor, she couldn’t think of what to say. She started pacing in front of his grave, while every emotion she had suppressed started boiling towards the surface.
“You must be having a lark, aren’t you Father? It’s like you were hellbent on ruining my life. And this was the only way you knew it’d be permanent.” She bitterly spat out. “Because you know I’m dutiful. Not to you or your Precious God. But to Nessa? Shell?”
She swallowed harshly. “Well done. Congratulations. You’ve found my weakness. Of course, Elphaba, eldest daughter of the Thropp family, is going to show up for her siblings. And how dare you! How dare you exploit that weakness!”
The words came easier now. “So if you expect an affectionate speech like Shell just gave you, you might as well roll over now, Father. You want to give me hell? I will return it. Tenfold!”
Her fists were balled and she was pacing in a frantic state. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that? You—You realize that Shell is too young to understand that, right? So whatever kind words he just told you, forget them. Because you were a terrible parent! You unambiguously picked favorites and dragged us into your missionary work all the way to Quadling Country—and the singing! The singing I had to do for you, your converts, your faith. Did you think it would score you points with the Unnamed God? I hope he laughs in your fucking face!”
She gasped for air like she had just ran a marathon. “You robbed me of my childhood and now you even managed to take my future! I was going to be a scholar. I was going to help prove that Animals have a consciousness—that they deserve rights! And you took that from me!”
Her body was shaking as she finally came to a standstill in front of his grave. “I hope there’s no afterlife. I hope there’s nothing for you at all. That you’re just some dead flesh in some fucking dirt, rotting away with time. That’s what I hope.”
She didn’t know whether she believed what she said anymore, but it didn’t matter. She was hurt. Her father had hurt her. He had hurt her by existing. He had hurt her by dying. So Elphaba stomped away. And she furiously wiped away her tears, before they could hurt her, too.
--
She didn’t tell anybody what transpired at the graveyard. As soon as she got home she locked herself in the study and didn’t come out. She even had Nanny bring supper to the study so she wouldn’t have to face any of them.
It had gotten dark and Elphaba was the only one left awake. The rest had wished their goodnights through a locked door a while ago. Her vision had gotten blurry and sleep was taking her. Part of her wanted to go on; never leave this room ever again. But that also meant not spending the night with Glinda. Even if it was just sleeping next to her, there was just something so comforting about it. Especially since it wouldn’t be long now, before Glinda would return to Shiz.
That settled it. Elphaba laid down her pen and blew out the candle. Carefully, as to not wake anybody, she walked up the steps and entered her bedroom. She redressed into her nightgown before crawling in bed. She was always mindful when getting in. The bed was spacious for a single person, but “cozy” for two. She didn’t want to wake up Glinda by accidentally ripping away the warmth of her blankets or landing on the mattress with too much force.
It seemed this particular night she hadn’t needed to worry, because even in the shallow moonlight Elphaba could make out Glinda’s eyes, staring back at her.
“Shit, I woke you,” she whispered.
Glinda shook her head, her curls no longer up, but cascading down her face beautifully. “You didn’t,” she spoke softly, and lifted up the blankets invitingly.
With flushed cheeks, Elphaba got in and curled up next to Glinda, her body already warmed up by the blankets. This was more peaceful than sleep. Her dreams were haunted by the future. Where she not only was head of the household, but the entire region.
No. If she could choose, she’d always choose this. She draped an arm around Glinda and nuzzled into the nape of her neck. She smelled the last remnant of Glinda’s perfume, nearly faded for the day. Her lips were so close to it she could taste it and Elphaba felt herself get whisked away.
Her lips brushed Glinda’s neck and she left a lingering kiss. And then another one, and another. Each one drawn out longer and longer. Oh, how malnourished she had been. How much she craved to be comforted. To express her love to someone who would appreciate it. No, not an expression, an urge. An urge to remember before she’d forget. An urge to satisfy before it could be satisfied no longer. Before Glinda would leave her behind.
Her hand started to move lower as her kisses grew hotter. And then her lips hit nothing but air, when Glinda turned her back against Elphaba with a deliberate whump.
The motion stunned her out of whatever daze had overtaken her. She blinked to process what had happened. Flabbergasted, and wounded, she whispered. “You won’t even have me anymore?”
“No,” Glinda said so decisively it struck like a slap to the face. “I’m not a distraction. I refuse to be.”
Elphaba was ready to go on the offense, but the accusation stung a little too much to be completely false. She swallowed down whatever rejection she felt and opted for lightheartedness. “You’re a very pretty distraction.”
It was clear Glinda too had expected a heated argument, because what came out of her mouth was a giggle that she abruptly cut off.
“You terrible mean thing,” she muttered affectionately and turned back on her other shoulder. “How dare you be the bigger person.”
“I need to be the responsible one from now on, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Glinda said quietly, as her hand reached for Elphaba’s cheek, her fingers slowly trailing over her skin.
“You won’t have me at all then?” Elphaba asked softly, unable to conceal her hurt.
“Oh, Elphie,” she muttered, reaching closer and closer, until their lips nearly touched. “Of course I want you. More so than you will ever believe.”
As if to stop herself from getting lost in her own daze, Glinda’s wandering fingers halted over Elphaba’s lips. “But I won’t have you as long as you want to indulge solely to forget.”
“Oh.”
Glinda lowered her hand and grew serious. “You don’t have to tell me what you needed to get out in front of your father’s grave. That is between you and him. But don’t think I’m easily fooled. I could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when we left. So I know it was anything but pretty.”
Elphaba sighed and lowered her head in shame. “It wasn’t. It was awful. I said the most horrendous things.”
“And that is perfectly normal, Elphie. Grief comes in many shapes. As long as you got it out. That’s better than bottling up all those feelings.”
“But I’m even more angry now,” Elphaba whispered in confusion. “I hadn’t even thought that possible.”
Glinda tucked some of Elphaba’s hair behind her ear. “Tell me.”
She hesitated. She didn’t want to burden Glinda with this, and yet she couldn’t help but want to alleviate some of the weight she had been carrying.
“I feel so trapped.” She barely got out the words she’d been desperate to say out loud.
Even in the dark, Glinda’s eyes were inviting, encouraging her to go on.
“I’m trapped and I don’t know the way out. Because if I leave… well, then I’m dooming Nessa and Shell, aren’t I? But if I stay…”
“You might suffocate?”
Elphaba bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. “I know I can’t leave. I know that. It’s just hard, I suppose. When your future gets ripped away from you.”
“It’s okay to mourn your dreams of your future too, you know,” Glinda said. “And I know this isn’t where you wanted to be, but—and please don’t take this the wrong way—but there are upsides too.”
It was hard not to take it the wrong way. “Like what?” She asked with frost.
“Like your siblings. If you had stayed at Shiz, pursued an academic career, how often would you see them? Once a year? But now, you get to see them every day. See them grow up and become their own persons,” she explained. “I know you haven’t been able to spend much time with them since we arrived, but you will find that time in the months to come. And I can tell how much they love having you around. Even if they don’t say so.”
“It’s not just the household, though,” she said, rubbing her head. “I’m Thropp Third Descending; next in line for the Eminency. Considering grandfather’s age, it’s more about counting down the days than years.”
“Which you will figure out too. Just like you are doing in this position. You’re doing so great, Elphaba, and you have to do it all on your own. And still, you’re doing it. Give yourself some credit for what you’re pulling off.”
It took everything in her power not to reply with some snarky comment. Sarcasm was easy after all. It bit back and deflected. But earnesty? That was something she struggled with accepting. But she wanted to try. For Glinda. For her own good.
“I’m not sure how,” she admitted in a mumble.
“That’s okay. You can’t expect a tree to grow in a day, right?”
“Right.”
“So until then, I can be your external motivator.”
Elphaba smiled at the idea. “I like that.”
Her worries felt smaller somehow, and Elphaba suppressed a yawn. She was glad she had decided to tell Glinda. Which was both a blessing and a curse, she reminded herself.
“What else?” Glinda asked, as she mindlessly played with Elphaba’s hair. “I can tell something else is bothering you.”
Your inevitable departure, Elphaba thought, but she refused to say that part out loud. If Glinda knew how much she wanted her to stay, she’d do something truly stupid like never returning from her sabbatical. Elphaba couldn’t let that happen.
She decided to settle on something that was true, just not the whole of it. “I suppose I miss you.”
“You suppose?” Glinda teased.
“I miss you.”
“I’m not far,” she whispered so melodically it almost felt like a lullaby. “I’m right here, whenever you need me.”
Her eyes began to droop. Had she actually tired herself out for once? Was a bit of reassurance all she needed?
“I need to…” She mumbled with no real plan where the sentence would end. Could falling asleep be this easy?
“Hush. Rest, my darling.”
The words were spoken softly, like an echo from another time or place. She felt Glinda’s lips on her forehead. A goodnight kiss. Or maybe this was already part of her dream. Elphaba could no longer tell.
As light as a feather, she fell into a deep, relaxing slumber. That night, Elphaba had the best sleep she had had in weeks.
--
With every passing day, Glinda became more and more part of the household. She entertained the children from the moment they got up till they went to bed. How she did it was a mystery to Elphaba. It was like she ran the dang household. Making sure they ate properly, finished their schoolwork and even got them outside for an hour each day. Treks into the nearby mountains even became a regular occurrence. As were the visits to Father’s grave afterwards.
When possible, Elphaba would join them. In fact, since her talk with Glinda, she was making a conscious effort to be more involved. That’s why she had furnished a small writing desk in the living room. That way she could do her work while keeping an eye on Nessa and Shell. And as a bonus, she wouldn’t rot away in Father’s study. Sure, she got less work done that way, but it also was a great reminder why she had returned home.
Though sometimes it seemed Nessarose and Shell actually preferred Glinda’s company over hers. Nessarose was thrilled by the prospect of someone besides Nanny doing her make-up, and Glinda was more than happy to oblige. Each morning, they kept trying out new palettes and different powders and giggling so much that Nanny scolded them several times.
One particular morning, Nessarose told Glinda how great it was to have her here. That it felt like she finally had another girl in the house she could do this stuff with. “Fabala was never much of a sister in that regard.”
“Oh, I’ll bet,” Glinda laughed. “I tried to give her a makeover once. It did not go well.”
“You did?” Nessa was glued to her lips. “You must tell me the story. Oh, you simply must!”
Glinda met Elphaba’s gaze from across the living room. “Another time, perhaps. I would not want to encourage your sister’s wrath.”
“That’s right, Nessa,” Elphaba said, as she dipped her pencil in ink. “I’d advise you to do the same.”
To which Nessarose stuck out her tongue and told her. “You’re no fun.”
Part of her was worried that her siblings were getting too attached to Glinda. Soon enough, she wouldn’t be at Colwen Grounds anymore. Elphaba honestly didn’t know on whom that departure would be harder, her or her siblings...
Elphaba was rounding up work for the evening when Nanny came to wish her goodnight.
“No burning the midnight oil this time, you hear?” Nanny chided her. “A good head of the house knows when to rest.”
“As a matter of fact, I am almost finished.”
“Hm. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Elphaba chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“And don’t forget to wake up Glinda when you go to bed. It seems she has fallen asleep on the couch again.”
From her Father’s study, she could see directly into the living room. Glinda was unceremoniously sprawled across the sofa, snoring softly. A book she was determined to read had fallen on her lap. Conked out from entertaining the children all day.
Elphaba couldn’t help smiling. It was the third time this week it had happened. “I wouldn’t dream of forgetting.”
Nanny stepped deeper into the study. “Nanny knows adjusting to this new situation has been hard on you, but nobody can deny how well you’ve been doing. You have a good head on your shoulder and you are resilient. Features your father sometimes lacked, may Lurline preserve his soul.”
“Asking Lurline to preserve the soul of a devout unionist? My, Nanny. Don’t be surprised when your bedroom will be haunted tonight.”
“You cheeky thing. I was not scared of that man in his life, he will certainly not scare me in his death. He is not the only one entitled to his religion,” Nanny was quick to counter. “Regardless, you entirely missed what I was trying to tell you. Deliberately, no doubt.”
“I never meant to upset you, Nanny,” Elphaba said as she put her pen away and screwed the top on the ink bottle.
“Psh. It takes more than a comment to upset Nanny, you know this.” She leaned on her walking stick, which she started using despite her many protests. Elphaba had only seen her use it when she was really tired, like at night.
Nanny scrutinized her for several clock ticks. “You had to sacrifice much, but out of the three, I am glad it is you who stepped up. It’s barely been a month, and look at you. So much the adult already.”
Elphaba didn’t know what to do with herself, being praised like this always made her feel awkward.
“I know you will not tell it yourself, so I will do it in your stead. You are an excellent head of the house, Elphaba. And you will be an ever better Eminent Thropp, once that mantle falls onto you.”
She swallowed thickly. “I’m not so sure I would be, Nanny.”
“Because your father put those blasted unionist beliefs in you from a very early age. Hard to shake off, even for an atheist like yourself. But that’s why you’ll need confidantes. To help talk some sense into you. And she will make an excellent confidante,” she pointedly looked at Glinda, still sleeping soundly on the couch, and then back at Elphaba. “And an even better wife.”
Her breath faltered. “Y-You know?”
“Oh? Were you two trying to hide it from Nanny, poppet? I thought it was rather obvious.”
She felt sweat gathering in the palm of her hands. Only now did she realize how desperate she was for some sort of parental approval. “And you don’t… disagree?”
“Disagree with what? Love?” Nanny clucked back.
She must’ve registered Elphaba’s panicked face, because suddenly she took one of the unoccupied chairs and dragged it to be next to Elphaba’s. With a heave and a sigh she sat down, her cane planted in between her legs. She placed her wrinkly hand on Elphaba’s knee and gave her a smile. “No, my poppet. Not anymore. I had my disagreements at first when your father and your mother fell in love with the same man.”
Something clicked in her mind. She had been too little at the time to understand, but it all made sense in retrospect. “Turtle Heart, right?”
Nanny nodded. “Yes, the handsome Quadling. I thought it improper and despised the arrangement. Even considered quitting. If Nanny ever had the heart to tell her beloved Melena. If sweet, little Nessa hadn’t been born. But no, I was wrong. I saw how they were with each other. How much better they were, the three of them, together.”
She softly patted Elphaba’s knee. “No, even a half blind and half deaf Nanny could not deny their love for each other. They were so happy, and you were too, my little Elphie. Just a toddler then, but it was the happiest Nanny has ever seen you. Until now, with her.”
Elphaba’s gaze wandered back to Glinda lying on the couch. Beautiful and wonderful Glinda. Oh, how it ached her heart. How she longed for her and a future they could not have together. Tears pricked in her eyes.
“But it can’t be real. Not for long. Not for ever,” Elphaba softly whispered. “She indulges me, for the time being. But sooner or later, she will have to find a husband. And whatever we are—we were—it has to end. There’s no other path to take.”
Nanny leaned back into her chair. “Hm. A shame, really. Though I suppose some tough luck has made plenty of people stronger.”
Elphaba shot her a look. “Really, Nanny. Some compassion would not be misplaced.”
“Compassion?!” Nanny barked. “Whatever do I have to be compassionate about?”
She frowned, not knowing where Nanny’s sudden pivot had come from. Her frustration turned into irritation when Nanny clucked her tongue and said: “Lurline, Nanny thought you went to that fancy school because you’re smart.”
“I am smart,” Elphaba countered defensively. She was used to quips about her appearance, but her intellect had never been questioned so directly. She despised it instantaneously.
“Then tell me, Thropp Third Descending,” Nanny said, her eyes flitting with playful defiance. “What kind of laws would you like to see amended, when you have the power of an Eminent?”
“B-But,” Elphaba began to protest in shock. “I could never change a law just for selfish reasons! Besides, so many would not understand…”
“Then make them understand. Like your parents made Nanny understand. If the people see her next to you, they’ll understand. They all will,” she said and then firmly tapped her cane on the ground. “And behead the naysayers, I say!”
Elphaba let out a cackle. “Be serious, Nanny.”
“Whatever gave you the impression I am anything but?”
She only vaguely registered Nanny’s comment, her mind already wandering off. Was it truly possible? Was there actually a path where they could have a future together? Nanny certainly made it sound easy. She knew it wouldn’t be, but at least there was a way, however narrow.
Elphaba watched Glinda once more, and the heartache she felt before melted into something softer. Hope.
“You truly think it’s possible?”
Nanny shrugged. “Who am I to say? I’m just a nanny.”
She gave her a wink and stood up from her chair.
“Wait–” Elphaba quickly rose to her feet. She shuddered a breath and whispered, “thank you, Nanny.”
She took her hand and squeezed it. “Anything for you, my poppet.”
--
Her talk with Nanny opened up a whole array of possibilities. Not just for a potential future with Glinda, but for the Animals too. Her Eminence could be a safe place, where they would not be persecuted. Where they could hold a job and could live as free Animals.
Colwen Grounds wasn’t some backwater place either. The Thropp Eminence was the most prominent one in Munchkinland and their lands reached far into the Corn Basket. A good chunk of Oz was fed off their fields. If she dared to dream big, she could negotiate and even demand protection for Animals in all of Oz in exchange for goods. She could convince the other Eminences of Munchkinland to do the same. Make a real fist against the Wizard and his backward politics. The prospect was as daunting as it was thrilling.
For now, Elphaba let it rest in the days yet to come. It was odd that something in her future genuinely excited her for once. It ignited a little spark—this frightening thing called hope—inside her chest.
Elphaba had roamed the expansive Thropp gardens for what felt like an hour, enjoying the late spring sun. At the gazebo, she spotted her. Glinda was wearing a dress made from soft yellow fabric, perfectly matching the gentle spring weather. She was sitting in the shadow of the gazebo, though her face was turned to the direction of the sun and her eyes were scanning the book in front of her. For what felt like the first time in weeks, none of Elphaba’s siblings were hanging around her. Perhaps she had given herself the afternoon off. Finally make a dent in that book she had not been able to get past chapter one for a solid week.
Elphaba stepped closer, and knocked on the wood of the gazebo like it was a door. “Am I allowed to disturb you?”
She looked up and Elphaba’s heart skipped a beat. Her smile was so warm, and without even saying anything, she already closed the book and put it on the bench. “I am never going to be able to finish this story, am I?”
She laughed. “I’m afraid not. Though I could come back at a later time?”
“None of that. You are very welcome to my estate,” she said, and spread her arms wide open as if to present the gazebo as her very own home.
“My, what a lovely house you have, Miss Arduenna,” Elphaha played along, as she went up the few steps, pretending to admire the woodwork from up close.
“I know it is rather barebones at the moment,” she breezed like a true socialite and she got up from the bench, “but I am certain you can see what I have envisioned for this little place.”
“Most certainly indeed,” Elphaba nodded, and turned to Glinda, dropping the little pretend act. “No children to boss around this time?”
“Oh, har har. You realize I am not their governess, right? Or was free labor the only reason I was allowed to come along?”
“And have you rob old Nanny of her position in this family? How cruel do you make me out to be?”
Glinda briefly averted her eyes and she wrung her hands. “I could be, though. I have been thinking I could be their tutor, perhaps. I have academic credentials after all.”
“Not if you don’t return from your sabbatical soon. The semester is nearing its end. Surely you do not mean to do over an entire year?”
Glinda paused, and a dreadful feeling crept over Elphaba. Glinda let out a sigh and moved away, turning her back to Elphaba and looking out over the garden, her arms resting on the wooden beam of the gazebo.
“Elphie,” she softly spoke after a while. “Why did you return to Shiz after the funeral?”
Her brow furrowed. “Most of my stuff was still there. I had to come pick it up.”
Glinda shook her head. “Nonsense, you could’ve gotten valets to tidy up your belongings and sent them over. You could have penned your withdrawal letter. Morrible certainly would not care if you came all that way. But you came anyway. Why?”
Her neck flushed. Glinda had never outright asked her reasons for returning before, so Elphaba was spared the humiliation. But what good would it do to hide the truth now?
“I couldn’t leave you behind without a proper goodbye.”
Glinda looked over her shoulder, eyeing her directly. “Was that all?”
It was a precise attack. One Elphaba had not seen coming. Like she had been caught doing something she wasn’t even aware she had been doing. Her breath got caught in her throat. It was undeniable, now the fog had cleared. A subconscious desire she hadn’t even dared to entertain in her wildest fantasies.
Glinda removed herself from the beam and stepped closer. “I need you to say it, Elphie.”
“I came to fetch you,” she blurted out. An admission moreso to herself than to Glinda, who already knew. “I wanted—I needed you by my side. To face all of this. Which is obscenely selfish of me, I am aware.”
“And do you regret it?”
“No,” her mouth said before her mind could even think it. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” She paused. “Do you…?”
Glinda shook her head. “Not a single clock tick.”
Feeling daring, Elphaba took her hands. “I, uhm, had a conversation with Nanny a few days ago which got me thinking. Perhaps, after your graduation… Would you like to return to Colwen Grounds?” She bit her lip. “... To me?”
Glinda watched her for a moment, and then shook a smile off her face. “Oh Elphie, for someone so clever you can be so awfully dense sometimes.”
Before Elphaba had even time to be offended, Glinda’s hand had reached her cheek, and gently caressed it. “I told my parents to cancel my tuition over a month ago.”
Elphaba’s mouth fell open. “Glinda!”
“Yes?” Glinda cooed innocently.
“A month ago? But that was—we were still packing at Shiz, then!”
“I am aware, yes,” Glinda chuckled, and dropped her hand. “Why else do you think I brought along all my belongings?”
Elphaba had just chucked that up to Glinda being an excessive packer. Had she really brought along everything she had at Shiz? Wow, Frex’s funeral must have really left her distracted. “But… what about your sabbatical? What about Morrible?”
“There is no sabbatical, Elphie. When I went to see Morrible, I told her I was dropping out, same as you. She did not care for it, but she did not stop me either.”
Elphaba was still floored by the news. “W-Why would you do something like that? What about your future as a graduate?”
“Oh, please. You have ranted about it enough times to know how little a woman’s academic accomplishments mean. So what, I don’t hold an awful secretary job with despicable men bossing me around for two years? Sounds hellish anyway, if you ask me.”
Elphaba swallowed. “But…at the very least you were going to meet your future husband at Shiz.”
“For what it’s worth…” Glinda said, as she draped her arms around Elphaba’s neck. She could not hold back her smile any longer. “I think I already have.”
Elphaba was smiling from ear to ear. A giddiness was making flips inside her stomach. She quickly scanned the garden to see if no prying eyes were watching them, before she placed her hands on Glinda’s hips. “Our path forward will not be an easy one. I won’t blame you if you decide it is not worth the risk.”
Glinda went on her tippy toes and pressed their foreheads together. “When will you ever start to understand? You are worth everything, Elphie.”
It was impossible not to anymore, and Elphaba kissed her. She pulled her even closer and lifted Glinda up and twirled her around. Their kisses became a mess of lips and teeth and giggles and neither of them particularly cared. If this was a sneak peek into what was yet to come, perhaps her future wasn’t going to be so miserable after all.