The Ice Queen:
Chapter 1:
"Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron, or gold, of thorns, or flowers that would never bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day..."
Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
The house itself looked like a ghost. The once creamy white exterior had faded away to a graying-yellowing color which reminded Elphaba of the skin of the dying. With its ivory covered chains wrapped around it, it barely looked like a place that one wanted to live in.
She was confused. Her father had told her that this mansion was owned by the Uplands, Mr. and Mrs, and their daughter Galinda, and that they were the one of the wealthiest families of Oz. If they were so wealthy, why did their house look so ruined?
Elphaba stood at the towering wrought iron gate, observing her new home quietly. The ruined grandeur of it all. She could vaguely see figures crossing through the rooms against the dark curtains. They passed so quickly she wondered if she had even really seen them at all.
"You are to be on your best behavior now, Elphaba," her father reminded her sternly, catching her attention, "I don't want to hear about any trouble. The Uplands have been gracious enough to let you live here, even with your skin tone mentioned. I do not want you to ruin this opportunity."
"I won't, Father," Elphaba replied brushing a lock of long black hair behind her ear. She swallowed and looked up at her Father nervously. She didn't want to disappoint him again.
"Don't know why these people didn't inquire about Nessarose coming to live with them, she'd be better suited for this lifestyle anyways," Frex muttered under his breath.
Elphaba bit her lip and felt her mood lower. She was always second best when it came to Nessa.
It had caused a rift in the household when Elphaba had been asked to come and live in the Upland's residence. She didn't quite know exactly what was in store for her here at the Upland's mansion, with its mysterious air and atmosphere. It had all been very brief, her invitation. Father had received a note one day from a Mr. Upland asking if Frexspar the Godly's eldest daughter might 'come to live with us and be a companion for our dear daughter, Galinda.' He promised that she would be well fed, and taken care of. He even said that they would allow her the holidays to come home and visit Nessarose. Father had had mixed feelings. On one hand he was glad to be rid of Elphaba, the disappointment of the family, the outcast. But the other side of him was annoyed as to why they hadn't asked about Nessarose, Elphaba's younger sister, who, he claimed, was much more qualified.
But the Uplands had insisted on Elphaba. Just her.
Elphaba had been delighted nonetheless at the opportunity but it was all very strange.
Why her? Why now?
All these questions were buzzing around her head and yet she didn't dare ask Father. She knew better than that.
Either way, she would find out soon enough.
A hand maiden finally came to the gate to let her in, and Elphaba was prodded in the back by Frex to stand up straight and make a good impression. She winced and rubbed her back before placing her hands in front of her stomach like her Father had taught her to.
"Are you Miss Elphaba?" she asked, glancing at the young girl.
Elphaba nodded curtly. She was slightly hesitant, at least the handmaiden hadn't freaked out about her unusual skin color. She fidgeted with her hands looking down at the green pigmentation in disgust. Why did she have to be such a freak?
"Well, come on inside. They're expecting you," the maid took her bags from Father. Elphaba looked back at Frex for encouragement but he was already halfway back to the carriage now.
Taking one last look at the exterior of the house, its ruined splendor and glory, Elphaba summoned up her courage and took a deep breath. She could do this, whatever came her way she could handle it.
After all, anything was better than living with her Father.
On the inside, the house was even more dismal and gray than on the outside. The contents of the house were dark and gloomy, cobwebs were splayed out like artwork on the walls, connecting from corner to corner. She couldn't imagine anyone happy living here. This was even more miserable and dark than her home back in Quadling country.
"Come along, you. Keep up!" scolded the handmaiden when Elphaba slowed her pace to gaze at the glorious, broken chandelier that hung high above the grand staircase. There seemed to be a quiet, low melody floating through the air of the house, like the ghosts that inhabited the house were singing their sorrows.
Elphaba very soon came to the conclusion that everything in this house was broken, or damaged, or even ruined.
From the windows tinted with dirt, to the carpets cluttered with dust, this house certainly was something else. She had never seen something so glorious, and what could be so beautiful, be so vile and tainted.
She thought mansions were supposed to be godly, wealthy, not look like a place of ruin and destruction.
Consumed by her thoughts, Elphaba almost ended up accidentally bumping into the handmaiden who had stopped to open a door.
"Watch it!" the handmaiden cursed and muttered something under her breath as she pulled the door open.
Elphaba stepped inside and was greeted by a most peculiar sight. She hadn't known people who had ever sat so still that they appeared to be statues, but the Uplands managed to do just that. They looked like pristine, porcelain dolls against the grim backdrop of the house.
All three of them had golden blonde hair. That was their defining feature. It was a stark contrast between the grey color of the room, with its grim, cold fireplace and darkened curtains. Even the air held a chill in it. It was like all three of them were frozen in time.
Mr. Upland, Elphaba saw, also had a blonde mustache that curled upwards at the end that reminded her somewhat of a clown's. He had piercing dark eyes that held sort of a twinkle of excitement and mystery, and he was fit and trim. He sat in an armchair reading today's paper intently, his dark formal clothes giving him a certain refinance.
Mrs. Upland had a very beautiful face, but it was the sort of face that got worn out easily, one that was still young in its time but looked as though it had lived through a thousand years. Her eyes, which had once been a bright blue, were now dull as if this house has sucked the life out of them. Her lips were set in a straight line, and the air about her was of disdain and bitterness. Elphaba had never seen anyone so unhappy and yet so beautiful. Her dress was a pale pink, faded from a previously bright shade, just like everything else in this house. She sat in a maroon chair with her sewing in her lap.
As for the third occupant in the room, when Elphaba finally laid eyes on her, she was astounded. Not only was this Galinda a carbon copy of her mother, mainly in looks and the air about her, but she was perhaps the most beautiful girl Elphaba had ever seen. She sat prim and proper at the piano's bench. Her fingers danced along the keys expertly, as if she had been playing since the beginning of time. The melody was soft and quiet. But it was still beautiful, a piece that Elphaba hadn't heard before.
It seemed, as though, in that moment that all light reflected off of the girl at the piano, Galinda, like all the attention was directed at, and only for her.
Her hair hung in shiny gold ringlets around her shoulders, her delicate face was highlighted by perfect ruby lips and glinting sapphire eyes, and she radiated a sort of attractiveness from her that Elphaba could not quite place. She was all things a young lady should be, whereas Elphaba was not. She was petite and delicate, Elphaba was gangly and rough around the edges. She had a dress of powdered blue on, Elphaba had on a black simple frame of a dress.
As she stood there staring at all of them, she couldn't help but feel terribly out of place here. These statues, these people didn't belong in her world and she didn't belong in theirs. She was a freak of nature, an abomination... what did they want with her?
The girl, Galinda, was the first one to make eye contact with Elphaba.
As soon as she did, the music that she was making came to an abrupt halt. The room became eerily silent.
"Oh, look...It's here," she said quite coldly.
I got inspired by Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, moreso the characters of Miss Havisham and Estella, and wanted to write this. I'm really excited about this piece and cannot wait for you all to come along on the journey with me! Stay tuned for Chapter 2!
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