This fic sort of threw itself at my head, causing a very painful collision that refused to alleviate itself until I wrote it. Very annoying, that. Anyway, I've started working on it and was hoping for some feedback. It's basically a more in-depth look at the Shiz portion of Galinda's and Elphaba's lives. It's a musical-book blend, and I've taken a few liberties, but not any that change the basic plot of Wicked or anything. Please read and review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked. I don't own any of the characters, except the ones I made up (and they're mine, so don't touch)!
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"Miss Galinda, you will room with Miss Elphaba. You may have room twenty-two," said Madame Morrible, handing her a key. Galinda stomped to their dorm room, refusing to speak to the green girl behind her. She was ready to kill her Ama and her wretched foot. She unlocked the door and looked around in disappointment at the dismal dormitory. The walls were a grim shade of light-grey, the blinds hung crooked, and the beds looked stiffer than uncooked macaroni. Galinda found that even the brightest of her accessories did little to brighten up the room.
Elphaba didn't seem to have brought any personal effects. She simply unpacked and hung up all of her clothes in their shared closet in a matter of minutes. They were all dresses, of course, but instead of the frilly, pretty things Galinda was accustomed to seeing girls wear, these were all dark colors--maroon, deepest purple and blue, grey, black--and they all seemed tattered and unflattering on the hanger. Next, Elphaba made her bed. She had brought the most uniform of bed coverings. Her sheets were white, and she had a grey blanket and comforter. It occurred to Galinda that if Elphaba wore her grey dress, everything on her side of the room would be in shades of grey, except for Elphaba herself, that is.
It took Galinda much longer to unpack. Granted, Galinda had seven trunks full of clothing, as opposed to Elphaba's two. Galinda's many dresses had much more body than Elphaba's and took up almost all of the closet. Elphaba's dresses were simply pushed into the corner where they hung like tired rags or flattened animal pelts.
Neither one of them had broken the silence yet, and it was driving Galinda mad, mainly because she knew that she was going to lose.
"Hi," she said at last, "I'm Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands. I'm of the Arduenna Clan on my mother's side."
Elphaba nodded, "I'm Elphaba."
"Where are you from, Elphaba?" Galinda asked, doing her best to keep the conversation going.
"Are you asking where I was born or I where I lived before coming to Shiz?"
"How about you tell me both."
"I'm from Munchkinland. I've spent most of my life in Quadling Country," Elphaba said.
Galinda grimaced, "Quadling Country? Isn't that just putrid swampland?"
"Mainly. You get used to it eventually. It's not that bad," Elphaba said.
"You're from Munchkinland, huh?" Galinda asked, "I thought Munchkinlanders were all…"
"Tiny?" Elphaba asked with a grin, not taking offense, "Most of them are. The men are in more than one way. My family isn't originally from there so we're cursed with normal height."
Galinda grinned back, wishing right after that she hadn't. She couldn't have Elphaba thinking that she liked her; she couldn't have her expecting to acknowledge her in public. The girl was green, for Lurline's sake! To understate this, Galinda tossed her hair and said, "I'm going to make friends with some of the other girls. I'm sure there are some suitable ones. Goodbye, Miss Elphaba."
These were the only real words that the two exchanged before classes started. Galinda found that her fears were ungrounded. Elphaba never talked to her when outside their dorm room, and hardly even within it. She spent most of her time in the room, reading. Galinda, meanwhile, was hobnobbing with girls high on the social ladder, and making many new acquaintances. The roomies were only together in the orientation speeches and they didn't sit even remotely close to each other.
The first morning of class, Galinda was terrified. As she got ready, she kept casting glances at Elphaba to see if she was just as scared as she was. However, Elphaba disappointed her. She looked as bored as always, and Galinda took note that it had only taken the green girl a few moments to get ready. She had just slipped on one of her shapeless grey shifts and tied her hair back in a simple ponytail. Now she watched as Galinda fiddled with her perfectly coiffed flaxen hair.
"Galinda, can't you ever just wear the first thing you put on in the morning?" she asked impatiently with a touch of scorn.
"What?" Galinda asked, as if such an idea had never occurred to her.
"You've already changed four times this morning," Elphaba pointed out, "And you're picking out something different to try on. You know everything looks lovely on you, and you'll have a chance to wear it all eventually anyway."
"Elphaba," sighed Galinda, disregarding the compliment, "Sometimes I just don't understand you. Every time I go out in public, it is a reflection on me. Therefore, I must be perfectly made up and in the perfect outfit at all times. How else can I expect to gain popularity?"
"I just don't bother with looks," Elphaba said.
"Yes, I know," Galinda said sniffily.
Elphaba ignored the snub and gathered her books together. "I'm going to class," she said, "I want to get first choice on the seats."
Galinda was secretly pleased when her roomie left the room. Although she didn't want to enter the class alone, she knew that it would be even more detrimental for her potential reputation to show up with that vegetable of a girl.
When at last she was ready, Galinda hurried to the Magic Theory I lecture hall. She introduced herself to a suitable looking gaggle of girls outside the room and walked in with them, preserving her status. After she and her new friends had found proper seats, she looked around furtively for Elphaba. She was surprised when she saw that her fashion-blind roomie had chosen a seat in the furthest back corner. Galinda had assumed that Elphaba had wanted to get a seat in the front when she came early, but apparently, good seating in Elphaba's opinion was as far from everyone else as possible. The girl was bent over and fervently reading a book.
When nine o'clock came and passed, the murmuring increased as everyone wondered aloud where their teacher was. Then, at nine sixteen, the heavy stage door opened with a bang. The girls all peered into the darkness behind it but couldn't make anything out. After a moment of hushed silence, something ran into the room with a squeal. Several of the girls screamed at the suddenness of it. The thing slid to a halt at the podium. Some of the girls giggled when they realized that it was their teacher. The woman was thin and had short, spiked hair that was bright red. Although she was probably around forty, she gave the impression of someone much younger. As they could tell from her entry, she had abundant energy, and already, little gasps were coming from students all across the room as they noticed her clothing. She was wearing what appeared to be the bodice and sleeves of a fairly simple dress and (Oh, the scandal of it!) men's trousers.
The woman ignored the sniggers and barely stifled snorts aimed at her and spoke. "Welcome to Magic Theory I, yada, yada, yada. I'm sure we'll all have a good year that will benefit you all as people and students in your learning here at Crage Hall," she said in a bored tone, "The school requires that I say that, of course, but now I can say whatever I wish. This class isn't for everyone. I'm not going to go around pretending you have aptitude if you don't. I do not tolerate students not willing to work, nor do I appreciate ass-kissers. This class is, essentially, a tool to separate the lazy idiots from the talented hard-workers who will go on to the next course. I'll do this without mercy and most of you will hate me for it. Let me tell you something: I don't care. Any questions?"
The class was completely silent following this recital. Finally, one girl on the second row timidly raised her hand.
"Yes?" asked the woman.
"Miss, what is your name?" she asked quietly before blushing deeply and looking as though she wished she could turn into air and float up to the ceiling.
"What would you like my name to be?" the teacher asked, not unkindly, "What are names really, but ways of organizing our lives? Call me whatever you wish. Call me Arrogant Bitch, call me Slave Driver, call me Ozma! It makes no difference to me."
Some of the girls grinned at the Paganism of it while others looked mortified.
"Ms. Ozma?" one brave girl asked, "Why didn't we see you at the Orientation yesterday?"
"I see no need to show up at a stuffy meeting and watch all of you crying as you say goodbye to your families. All that sentimentality makes me want to vomit. Instead, I went into town and got very nicely drunk. I'm sure I had much more fun than any of you. Any more questions?"
No one else raised a hand, so Ozma, as she was now to be called, continued. "Now, I don't care if you were the most talented at conjuring toads or removing warts in your hometown. Chances are, you won't be the best here. You've gotten into Crage Hall, girls. Congratulations. Now the work starts. First assignment: I want to know why you want to study magic."
Immediately, all the girls reached for their paper and quills.
"Stop!" Ozma commanded, halting all movement with a single word, "I don't believe in writing. I'm just going to pick a few of you to answer the question."
As one, every student sunk lower in their seats and quietly tried to efface themselves.
Ozma looked around for a moment before pointing to Galinda. "You. Who are you and why do you want to study magic?" she asked.
Galinda looked frozen for a moment before answering in what she hoped was a lofty, sophisticated voice. "I'm Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands. I'm of the Arduenna Clan on my mother's side. I've never tried my hand at magic per se, but I'm sure I'll show natural talent. My auntie was a witch, you see."
"I didn't ask you to prove that you have an over inflated head, Miss Upland. I asked why you want to study magic."
Galinda turned pale as the girls around her tittered. "It just seems like a useful skill to have," she muttered.
"Thank you," Ozma said. She pointed to several other girls in the next quarter of an hour, and they all gave very similar and tentative responses. Finally, Ozma pointed to Elphaba, who was now sitting very straight and paying rapt attention. "Who are you and why do you want to study magic?"
"If names are unimportant, I don't see why you have any need to know mine," Elphaba said impertinently.
The class all swiveled to see how Ozma took this cheeky remark. She was smiling.
Elphaba continued, "I didn't choose to be in this class. I'm interested in science, myself, but Madame Morrible insisted on putting me in here."
"Thank you for an honest answer, Miss No-Name," Ozma said, "Class dismissed."