A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so happy that I finally get to post this fic because it's been a long time coming. This fic is going to be 16 chapters long. Also, it has NO PAIRING. Repeat - NO PAIRING. Please do not request one, as I have already finished the story and have no intention of changing it.
I would like to say a huge thank you to cuppasound, who has helped me with various parts of this, particularly with the 'blind' aspect of this fic. Cuppasound, I couldn't have done it without you. Your encouragement kept me going and helped me finish, so I hope you like how it's turned out!
This feels like the most effort I've ever put into a fanfiction. That being said, I would appreciate any comments, both positive and negative. In particular, I am looking for feedback on Elphie being blind in this story, as it was quite difficult to write and I would like to know if you guys think I did a good job of it. If I missed anything, or you think I could have done it better, please let me know. Thanks!
WARNING: This is an M rated story. The reason for this is character death in the later chapters. I will only say this once, and will not warn you again.
And now all of that's out of the way, on with the story! :D
Steal Away from the Permanent Night
A 'Wicked' Fanfiction
By ~heatqueen
Chapter 1
I have suffered for many years at the sound of hateful words and cruel whispers from those around me. It has gotten so that they have become a dull and painful soundtrack in the background of my life. Though in different words, they all say the same thing:
Miss Elphaba, your skin is green.
As green as the grass outside; as green as the Emerald City.
I have no way of telling for myself if it's true, so I have little choice but to accept the tales of others. I believe them, because they wouldn't all say it if it was a lie.
My greatest blessing and curse is darkness. The inability of my eyes to receive light means I do not have to catch sight of myself. I have never looked in a mirror; never seen 'the green'. If I try hard enough I can even convince myself it isn't there. However, I can never quite forget its existence: People are forever reminding me with their questions as to whether it's contagious.
'Fabala, hurry and finish eating.'
Nessarose's harsh, impatient voice makes me jump. I prod my plate with my fork, feeling around for what is left. Not much – which is too much for Nessa, who is eager to leave as quickly as possible. Her wheelchair squeaks as she rolls it back and forth. I'm sure if she could walk, she would be a pacer.
I lift my fork to my mouth and savour the last bit of egg. I am told that they are white and yellow, but such concepts mean nothing to me. Nanny once gave me two objects to hold – one smooth, and one rough. She said that colours were like that, but differentiated with sight rather than touch. I do not understand. One does not feel things with one's eyes.
I park my knife and fork together and prepare to be whisked away. Today is the first time that I will live in an unfamiliar location, which is both exciting and nerve wracking. At Shiz I may finally find my freedom. I will no longer have to wait for Nessa or Nanny to bother to read to me because there will be books written in braille and endless lectures to listen to. However, being in an unfamiliar place means I will have to relearn how to get around, which is extremely difficult when one is blind.
Father and Nanny help to transfer Nessa's chair into the carriage. Father says that I am to assist Nessa at Shiz because of her disability. She has been paralysed from the waist down since the day she was born with legs twisted in a way which would not allow her to walk. What help I will be able to offer, I'm not sure. I suppose I could push her around, though it would end up with me using her as a guide to get to places. Whatever the case, if not for my sister being in her wheelchair, I would not be going to Shiz at all, so I don't question Father's decision.
I didn't ask why no one was sent to look after me because I already know. I'm not delicate. I can take care of myself.
The wheels of the carriage start to roll. Nessa and Nanny chat about what university life will be like. Nanny is to accompany us to Shiz, to assist with Nessa's care and act as our guardian. I sit in silence, listening to the vehicle bumping across the dirt road beneath us. The journey takes three hours, but in all that time I do not engage in menial chitchat. I only know when we've arrived because Nessa shuffles and exclaims 'Look, there it is! That's the university! Fabala, I wish you could see it. It's lovely!'
I exit the carriage to a buzz of excited students, hesitating at the sound of startled shrieks on account of my verdigris. I don't move because I am afraid of getting lost. Instead, I place one hand on the side of the carriage and wait for the others to manoeuvre Nessa's chair out of the vehicle.
There is the sound of shuffling and voices calling out instructions, the creak of the carriage door and a couple of loud noises as the vehicle is knocked by the wheelchair, all followed by the clunk of wheels onto the ground and a satisfied 'Finally!' from Nessa.
'She's tragically beautiful,' people whisper to one another, and I know exactly to whom they refer. My sister has garnered such compliments since she was a toddler. No one has told me what it means but it must be a good thing. It is something she has…but I don't. Why? Because I'm green.
The crowd must be large because I hear Father ordering people to move out of the way. I feel for one handle of Nessa's wheelchair and let it guide me forward, feeling slightly odd about doing so. We've been here no more than ten minutes and I'm already the one being dependent on her, and not the other way around.
We enter a building and walk for about five minutes. Then I hear a knock, followed by the click of a door.
'You must be Frexspar,' says a woman's voice. 'And this must be the lovely Nessarose.'
'Good afternoon, Madame Morrible,' Father says, and then there is a silence. I can feel Morrible's eyes on me already.
'I'm the other daughter, Elphaba,' I offer.
'Yes, indeed,' says Morrible. 'Well Nessa, I have received your father's orders. You will reside with me for the duration of your time at Shiz so that I may assist you.'
My heart rises in my chest and I open my mouth to argue.
'Madame, if you please, I thought I was to reside with my sister.'
'My dear child, how can you possibly expect to be of any use to her, what with your condition?'
I'm not sure if she refers to my eyes or my skin.
'But Madame…'
'Your father's orders are final.'
Then, the door slams, and I realise that everyone is on the other side, and I am alone. I turn and walk away, going quite far before remembering that I don't know my way around. Close by, I hear footsteps and the buzz of people greeting each other, firing orders and making general chit-chat. Surely at least one of them has a clue. There must be someone in charge who can direct me, or a student who's already been here a while.
'Excuse me!' I call out. I'm not sure who I am calling; I just hope that anyone within the vicinity will respond. 'Excuse me, can you help me please?'
Someone brushes past me without stopping.
'Excuse me,' I repeat, putting a hand on the person's arm, but they shrug me off. The sound of laughter emerges from somewhere nearby, and I hear words that make my breath hitch:
'Beware of the artichoke, she might be contagious!'
My face heats up. I don't have time for comments I've already heard a hundred times in my life. I lunge forward towards the voice, arms outstretched, and grab whoever it is that I come into contact with. A few people shriek and the girl squirms in my grasp.
'For the love of Oz, just help me instead of standing there making baseless comments! No I am not contagious! On the other hand I am both blind and lost!'
'Huh? W – what are you on about?' the girl stutters. The voice is different. It's the wrong girl. I shove her backwards and release her with an angry growl. All around there are shocked whispers.
'Why are you all just standing there? Did I turn green or something? Oh wait a minute. Look at that, I did!'
'Is she crazy?' someone mutters.
'And you know what the irony is? I don't even get a look-in. I'm green, and everyone can see it except me. So if you would please just help me get to where I need to go…'
'The vegetable garden,' another person snickers.
Before I know it, I feel the familiar rush of adrenaline through my veins, the pumping of my heart and trembling of my hands. I try to squash it down, but it's already too late to stop what is to come next.
'For the love of Oz!' I yell, and there is a crash followed by loud screams. This is bad. I need to control my temper before it gets out of hand. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm my beating heart. I can't be doing this now. Not here, not with Nessa's reputation at stake.
Only a week ago I promised Nessa that I wouldn't. She took my hand, told me we needed to talk and led me outside into the garden. She pleaded with me not to lose control when we came to Shiz.
'Please,' she begged. 'For my sake.'
And much as I felt doubt creep into the back of my mind, much as I heard a protesting voice in my head screaming that it wasn't something I could help, I agreed.
'I'm – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…' I stutter, but my apology is interrupted by Morrible's loud, booming voice.
'Students of Shiz! Would anyone care to tell me why all your suitcases are scattered around in such a disorderly fashion?'
'The artichoke got steamed!' says the same girl who originally insulted me – the one I'd intended to grab in the first place.
'Fabala you did this?'
The ice-like tone of my father's voice causes me to freeze. He must have returned with Morrible. My throat closes and suddenly I have lost the ability to speak. Instead I give a tiny nod, knowing what is to come next.
'You've been here barely hours and are already behaving like a disgrace! I thought we talked about this, Fabala, your sister's reputation has to be upheld and I will not allow it to be tarnished by the likes of you and your – your oddities! You will nip this in the bud or rest assured I will not hesitate to intervene. Are we clear?'
'Yes, Father,' I mumble.
He pauses.
'Nanny will take you to your room now,' he says. The sound of his footsteps fading away is a relief, and yet it tugs at my chest. I squash down the odd feeling. We were never going to engage in sentimental farewells.
Nanny leads me to my room. It is a double room which I will share with one roommate. She sits me down and deftly unpacks my belongings, passing me a few things which I can put on the desk without too much trouble: a small stack of braille books, a notepad and some stationery. My belongings are sparse and do not take long to put away. Afterwards, Nanny leaves to tend to Nessa, and I am left alone, surrounded by silence.
I click my tongue and listen to the vibrations resounding off the objects around the room. There is a lot of space in here. My large single bed is parked into one corner, next to which is a desk and bookshelf. Opposite the bed is a closet, and to the right is a door to the bathroom.
I wager that the other side is probably identical.
Not having much else to do, I sit on the edge of my bed and think of the stories I have memorised. At home, Father has a phonograph, a new piece of Ozian technology that records and plays back sound. Over the years I managed to gather a small collection of stories and songs to play from it, and also several braille books. I memorised them word for word. They are my way of stealing away from the real world. When I am not distracted it is easy to imagine that I am absolutely anywhere. I don't have to be in Oz where the people are cruel and judgemental. I could be sitting on a bed in a grand palace in a faraway land, where everyone in existence has green skin and no one gives a tick-tock about it.
Naturally, it's only a dream.
A short while later the door bursts open and some people arrive, lugging things inside. Whoever it is that I'm rooming with seems to have a lot of luggage. A high, girlish voice barks out orders, directing her helpers to perform various tasks such as organising her shoe closet by colour, and ensuring that each dress is hung properly.
To my horror, I recognise the voice. It belongs to the same girl who kept firing cheap one-liners about my skin earlier.
Apparently she recognises me too.
'You are my roommate?' she demands. 'Of all people, I get stuck with the green bean.'
'The green bean has a name. It's Elphaba,' I retort.
'Yes well…whatever. For the record, you can call me Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands. And don't forget the last part; it's important.'
I snort. I wonder what she would say if I told her I have a title that surpasses hers. The Thropp family has governed Munchkinland for many generations, passing down the title of Eminent Thropp through the first descending female. At the moment, with both my mother and grandmother dead, there are no females except for myself and Nessarose, who are both too young. However, when I am older, the title will be passed down to me – supposedly. It practically belongs to Nessa already.
I don't bother mentioning any of this to Galinda. Debating social status is beneath me.
