Author's note: book-verse, Glinda-oriented and a padding out of those tantalising paragraphs about the journey to the Emerald City. Gelphie through and through. Consider yourself disclaimed. Reviews gratefully received.
When they had absconded over the vegetable garden wall in the night it had all seemed wonderfully exciting. And Glinda had been a little drunk. But now, after no sleep, in a bumpy third class coach with the onset of hangover and headache she was not so sure.
"Really Elphaba!" she hissed, trying to be discreet in front of the other passengers and failing miserably. "This is all very well and good as a bit of a lark but what are we going to do now? I can't think how you got this idea. And you weren't even that drunk."
"I wasn't drunk at all," Elphaba corrected.
"Everyone else went to the Philosophy Club and surely had a jolly good time. We end up on this..." her voice dropped again, "... mouldy old coach."
"You didn't want to go there anyway." Elphaba remained maddeningly calm, just staring out the window and barely even engaging.
Her friend was right, though, Glinda knew. She hadn't, in her more sober heart, really wanted to go to the Philosophy Club. The very idea – or lack of an idea – about the whole shebang terrified her.
"Well I don't want to go to the Emerald City, either," she said pointedly.
At last a flicker of emotion stirred in Elphaba and she turned around. "It's important. We have to see the Wizard, make him understand. Don't you see? Doctor Dillamond and Madame Morrible and that – that – thing – after the funeral. Can't you see it?"
Glinda did not see. Not at all. "Oh, Elphie," she moaned. "You should have brought someone helpful, someone clever, someone useful."
"Yes," Elphaba said sternly. "But I need you."
Flushing pink – and feeling as though she had won all the prizes in Oz – Glinda decided not to press the matter. She kicked up her heels and swung her feet until the banging against the base of the seats made the other passengers glare at her.
Sitting quietly for what must have been at least an hour Glinda's attention was caught by Elphaba cracking her knuckles in a distracted way.
"Did you not bring a book with you?" Glinda could count on one hand the number of times she had seen Elphaba in a position to read, but not doing so.
"Apparently not. In all the excitement. But they would have been heavy."
"Yes, because you would have needed more than one." Glinda placed a hand over the ones Elphaba was in danger of doing permanent damage to. "Do you hands ache?" she teased.
Elphaba smiled. More to herself in self satisfaction as those very hands moved to catch Glinda's.
"No," Elphie said quietly, almost shy.
Yes, things were different. Very different. Their circumstance was unusual and well beyond their previous experience, both individually and as a little team. The extra stress had already stripped a layer from their relationship. That superficial layer from the top: the layer presented when other people are around and then maintained for decorum and stability when alone.
That layer, Glinda realised, had been taking more and more energy to maintain. The restraint Elphaba had referred to. It had been getting harder and harder to rein in her impulse to touch, to caress. Choking down words that so desperately wanted to eject themselves in to the world had become a monumental effort. She was constantly vigilant against any slip up. Maintaining the veneer had become a full time occupation.
But now, out here, that energy was needed for other concerns. So the facade began to slip. Glinda would allow it to slip. She wanted it to slip. The situation was so different it was like they were different people and no longer bound by the same rules. Able to make freer or less able to stop the natural inclinations hovering just below the surface. One or the other. Both.
Glinda thought back over some of the events that had brought her here. Not too recent, they were still murky and confusing. She thought back further, right to the beginning.
At first being forced to room with Elphaba had seemed like universal revenge for her callousness with Ama Clutch. Later of course she began to see it all as a wonderful turn of events that she would not trade with any other timeline. She imagined, with horror, if she had been placed with any of the other girls. What would her life be like now if she had? Much the same as it had been at the time. She would have been stalled and remained a silly and superficial eighteen year old forever. Would she ever had gathered the courage to look beyond the bad manners and green skin to see the wonders that lay there? With a shiver of fear and self loathing she knew not.
Previously Galinda as was had avoided Elphaba and their room as much as possible. Elphaba was always there and other, more interesting people were always elsewhere. Then that formula began to reverse itself, almost with her realising. Elphie was interesting, once Galinda actually spoke to her; you had to take an interest in the first place for something to be interesting. Everyone else was losing their shine and Elphaba was not only absorbing all that spare interest but inspiring new energy from Galinda as well. Their room was a sanctuary, it was safe. She wished they were back there now.
Glinda drifted back out of her reverie to find brown eyes watching her intently. She almost wouldn't put it past Elphaba to be able to read minds, a thought that made her flush. That would surely have come up already if it were true.
So she took the offensive. "If you want to buy them they will be a good deal more than a penny."
"Priceless no doubt," Elphaba replied with that particularly droll tone of hers but never missing a beat of Glinda's apropos of nothing conversational style.
"I don't think any of the professors hold that sort of opinion of me." That was not entirely true. Academically she had been doing rather well of late. But it didn't hurt to hear Elphaba tell her that.
"I wouldn't care about their opinions. That place is becoming a farce."
Elphaba's face clouded over and Glinda panicked that what was supposed to be a light hearted conversation was about to get serious. But Elphaba herself seemed to recognise that and perked up a little. "And anyway, I'd sooner listen to your thoughts than theirs."
Glinda scoffed. "Elphaba you don't give a fig about my opinions."
Now obviously in a much better mood Elphaba mimed a shocked hand to the mouth. "Glinda! I can't believe you think that!" Then, more seriously, "You don't actually think that?"
Not knowing what she thought Glinda went off on a slight tangent again. It seemed safer. "You know I feel quite sensible when I'm talking to anyone else but you. Nessa and I have quite profound conversations."
Elphaba frowned at that, as though she saw something in it that Glinda couldn't. Glinda just tossed it aside.
As though trying to offer some sort of reassurance Elphaba pointed out that Glinda was the person she probably spoke most to in the whole of Oz. "And you underestimate yourself," she added.
Wrapping herself around Elphaba's arm Glinda pulled herself closer.
When they eventually, finally, stop bouncing around in the barely sprung carriage there was a whole new routine to learn about the procuring of rooms. The coach made no guarantees about where it would stop each day, making booking in advance completely impossible. The more experienced travellers clearly knew the drill and hot footed it out in to the town, knowing the best places to try.
Glinda and Elphaba were a good deal slower getting together their gear and Glinda could see Elphaba getting fidgety at the delay.
"Give that to me," Elphie said, reaching for Glinda's bags and sounding rather indulgent, Glinda thought, as though she were speaking to a child.
"I can carry my own luggage," she said, rather crossly. Neither of them seemed able to maintain their mood for very long today. It must have been nerves.
True to that observation Elphie seemed to find this humorous. "I have never seen you take a physical exertion you did not absolutely have to."
Glinda pouted. "Just because I don't doesn't mean I can't. I am quite capable."
"And what if I don't think you should have to? What if I want to carry your bag for you?"
Glinda could not suppress a happy giggle. "I suppose it would only be polite to allow you your pleasures." She relinquished her bag to a little bow from Elphaba. The mood swung back again, for a moment.
Once they were all collected Elphie impatiently scooped up the baggage and stalked over to the nearest inn with a vacant accommodation sign.
"You stay out here," Elphie said sternly, dropping the bags just off from the door. Glinda scowled but complied. Elphie had just about disappeared from the door in to the tavern, just a wisp of skirt still visible receding over the threshold when she had a change of plan. Her head reappeared, the long fingers of one hand curled over the door frame. "On second thoughts," she said, glancing in to the tavern then out again in to the darkening street, "You'd best come in."
Elphie moved for the cases but Glinda picked them up quickly and hurried to meet her in the doorway. They were stood close and Elphie muttered darkly for Glinda not to talk to anyone. As if Glinda would make conversation with a single soul in that place!
She was shocked to see the faces of the uncouth men in the inn as their eyes trailed her companion. She knew, really, in her mind, how people must react to Elphaba but it had been gently washed away by their time at Shiz in the company of friends and family. She was daily ashamed to remember her own prejudices when they had first met and indeed for the year to follow. She knew Elphie got more than her fair share of second glances but in these men it was not curious attention it was outright, near dangerous hostility. Glinda did not think she had seen that before. Or maybe she missed it, being as her eyes were also constantly trained on the very same person.
After appraising Elphaba though the eyes also came for her. She had used to enjoy that but certainly did not here and had not for a long time. But wasn't that what the game was all about? Attracting those eyeballs? The dresses, the make-up?
Not for the first time Glinda was very aware of herself and Elphaba cast as opposites. Elphie: statuesque with that wonderful long black hair and her unavoidably emerald skin made belligerent and mistrustful by the gaze of strangers. Glinda, or, to be fair, mostly her previous incarnation as Galinda: glittery and giggly, always laced and crimped and swishing her blonde hair, revelling in attention but at the same time trying to control it so it came only from the right sort of people. The right class, the sort of people she wanted to attract.
Elphaba couldn't do that, couldn't force that distinction. One person in the world loved Elphie's colouring. Loved her in spite of it, loved her because of it. Everyone else in the world recoiled. And maybe Elphie didn't even know there was one person.
Yet even now as Glinda saw Elphaba's eyes darting about the saloon, taking inventory and weighing options, Glinda knew it was her own safety that was the concern. Elphie reached an arm backwards towards her, separating her from the room and stood protectively as they stopped at the bar.
"We need a room for the night." Elphaba said, the slightest tremor in her voice that only Glinda could notice.
Instinctively her hand moved over Elphie's. She knew – or thought she knew – that Elphaba needed no extra strength from her but she willed it anyway and was rewarded with a flicker of gaze towards her that contained a small, grateful smile. Glinda looked down at their hands and not for the first time thought about how wan and feeble her own skin colour looked against the radiant green.
The robust landlady was sat behind them at a table smoking a pipe and nodded sagely. "Nice rooms," she said. "Clean. For fifty."
They wheeled round and Glinda felt Elphie shift next to her, dragging up a lie despite natural inclinations: "I only have forty."
The woman looked them both up and down and sniffed. "Forty, done. The room at the back. No key."
Elphie sighed and bent to pick up the bags while Glinda gave a curt nod.
Up the stairs Elphie muttered darkly. "Nice, clean, completely insecure..."
Glinda's mind was otherwise occupied. She told herself it was the brisk walk up the stairs that was making her heart pound so. But it wasn't, it wasn't, it wasn't. It was both the fear and anticipation of this: a small single bed sat alone in the room.
"Not quite up to Crage Hall standards of accommodation," Elphaba said, by way of apology.
So many times Glinda had longed for a body next to her in her bed. A particular body. A particular long and green body. And although things weren't quite how she had imagined she was finally going to get her wish.
The room itself was not as appalling as Glinda had feared. It was noisy from the bar and the kitchen was about all she observed. Elphaba was taking a more careful audit and did not look particularly impressed. Nonetheless whatever the trouble was it was not raised and Elphie simply turned to her and asked "Are you hungry?"
Glinda nodded, her deflated hair still able to manage a little bob. She turned to the mirror as Elphaba attempted to hide the luggage out of view under the small dresser.
Downstairs Glinda sat and tried not to look around too much as Elphaba ordered some food. When it came there was little and it was all placed in front of Glinda. She looked at her friend askance. "What about you?"
Elphie clearly had no qualms about looking around as the brown eyes constantly scanned the rest of the room and never once landed on Glinda, she noticed with regret. "Not hungry," was all the answer she received.
So Glinda ate in silence, throwing glances over the table from under knitted brows. To anyone else Elphaba would look relaxed, leaning back in her chair, idly surveying the room. But Glinda knew, as much by instinct and feeling as the little visual clues that her friend was anything but.
Perhaps the insanity of the quest was finally bearing down? Perhaps tomorrow they would be back on their way back to Shiz? Glinda knew she was kidding herself. Elphaba was too strong and too stubborn to turn back and she wouldn't have it any other way. The whole thing was mysterious and terrifying to her but if Elphie needed her she would always be there.
"Are you sure you are quite alright?"
Glinda's voice seemed to bring Elphaba back to some sort of reality.
"Quite alright, indeed. I just..."
"Tell me."
"I just..." Elphaba looked incredibly uncomfortable, as though Glinda were enacting some form of torture rather than trying to be supportive and caring. "I'm beginning to wonder what I've gotten us in to. You in to."
Even though Glinda had been thinking much the same thing just moments ago there was no way she was going to let Elphaba know that. So she tsked the statement away.
"I was in mind for a change of scenery anyway," she said with a deliberately dismissive air. "If it hadn't been the Emerald City I would have had you take me on holiday somewhere, back to Lake Chorge perhaps?"
Elphaba smiled wryly at the same time as squirming. "It would need a very compelling offer to get me back there."
Confident she could play this game Glinda took up the mildly flirtatious challenge. "And a holiday with me is not? I can sweeten the deal: fresh air, all the books you can read, a big house, beautiful scenery..."
"The fear of Pfannee and ShenShen at every turn, the great big lake..." Elphaba deadpanned.
"Don't tell me the lake is a problem. I thought you grew up next to one? And then the swamps of Quadling Country."
"Maybe I've just had my fill of lakes. Maybe I would prefer cabins in the mountains and forests."
Glinda was not particularly persuaded of the holidaying – or romantic – value of mountains and forests. "But the ants, the mosquitoes... the lack of plumbing."
Elphaba just chortled to herself and though the conversation was not exactly concluded Glinda felt she had achieved her goal of relaxing her.
The relaxation did not last past re-entering their room. First Elphaba checked on the luggage, happily still present. Fishing out nightgowns Glinda's eyes gravitated to the bed, as had Elphie's.
"I'll go to the bathroom," Glinda said. "You can get changed in here."
After a nod of agreement she slipped out to perform a less than rigorous nightly routine. When she returned there was a certain air of tension, she felt.
Elphie lay in the bed ramrod straight on her back very close to – if not actually pressed against – the wall. More than half the bed lay free so Glinda lifted the covers and laying on her side facing Elphie shuffled as close as she dared. Which was quite close. If not actually pressed against. Elphie looked at the ceiling. Glinda looked at Elphie.
"Good night," she whispered.
"Good night, Glinda."