A/N: Alright, guys, I wanna start off by apologizing profusely on behalf of my delay for this chapter. My laptop broke sometime in January, and, well, money's tight, you know? I had to save up to fix it, and just got it back a week ago, and I have been writing quite a bit! This chapter is a bit of a beast - about 7k words for the entire chapter, and as my outlines tell, next chapter will also be around the same length.
I honestly don't know if any of y'all are still reading this, but if so, there's a lot I have planned for this weird little fic - I'm not giving up on it yet! There's still more Gelphie to burn ;)
Remember that reviews keep a writer writing! I love reading all of your little comments and thoughts about my "fever-dream" fanfic 3
After class that day, Galinda had been slightly surprised to discover that her horrid green roommate was not in the room, but not at all was she aggrieved over it. If anything, she was pleased not to have to look at that revolting skin, that unattractive face, that exoskeletal physiology anymore. At least, not for now. But when the girl didn't return at all during the night – a peaceful night spent sketching by Galinda – she felt as if some God, or perhaps Lurline, had taken pity on her undesirable situation and deigned upon giving her a break.
She felt so odd towards her new roommate – equally disgusted and… intrigued. If she'd be bold enough to admit it. There was some sort of history to that creature that Galinda found her curiosity piqued by. She wished the curiosity would go away – she wished she could settle on a plain loathing for the green girl rather than this in-between state, like a young boy felt approaching a decomposed body that he found both thrilling and horrifying.
One thing was for certain, Galinda knew. Whatever curiosity she might feel for her roommate would immediately be ruined the moment Elphaba opened her mouth and spat at her with that snake's tongue, that venom. It was as if the girl was almost as determined to scare off any people as her skin was.
And the next day, she still didn't show up at first. Mind, she attended her classes, but Galinda didn't see her again in Room 22 until late in the evening. Until then, Galinda had felt a flutter of hope – perhaps, Elphaba had taken up and moved to another room, or one of the larger dormitories. Perhaps, she had spoken with Morrible, and gotten herself transferred. Whatever it was, one blonde Frottican was glad of it.
Until the familiar green tower opened the door and stepped inside, lugging a heavy-looking bag.
"And here I was, beginning to think I was lucky enough to be rid of you," Galinda sniffed, unimpressed with the sudden appearance and overall in a foul mood now because of it.
Elphaba grunted as she slung her bag onto her bed and began to extract at least a dozen books from it. She sat, cross-legged, on the bed, her feet curling outwards. The skin on the bottoms of her feet, though Galinda couldn't see much of it, looked almost black in the lighting. "I'm like a familiar moss, you know," Elphaba stated nonchalantly. "Or a wart that you never can get to go away for long. Near impossible to remove, painful if attempted, and always returning with an admirable determination."
With a scoff, Galinda turned away from the girl, looking at the fire she had made in the fireplace. It was small, but comforting. Although the nights were not particularly freezing yet, autumn was fast approaching, earlier than usual, she suspected, and it was a small slice of home to hear the crackling of the fire.
Galinda didn't notice when Elphaba stopped sorting through her books and began staring intensely at the fire. She only noticed when the green girl headed towards it, almost gravitating like a moth to the flame, light on her bare feet, tiptoeing like a cat. Galinda had half a mind to ask the girl if she even owned a pair of shoes – if she did, Galinda had yet to see them – but that look on that girl's face, that look of pure innocence and curiosity, silenced her, banished her to a confused state of mind.
The air in the room had become constrained, and somehow colder than it was five minutes ago. Galinda almost couldn't find oxygen, she was occupied with this look that Elphaba wore, and she couldn't even figure why.
The green girl got closer to the fire, and slowly extended an arm, verdant fingers stretching towards the fire, intending to envelop the fingers in his flaming kisses. Elphaba paused, contemplating the heat that the fire gave off, and then thrusted her hand towards the flames.
The moment of impact was surreal throughout the room. It was as if Room 22 had been placed into a trance, some dream-like state by an unforgiving demon, and now, this impact point of a green hand hitting flames was a catalyst for the chaos that ensued, the trance over the room shattering and oxygen returning to the air.
"You absolute fool!" Galinda cried as Elphaba hissed in pain and held her burnt hand towards her. It hadn't been held there long enough to the flames to truly cause damage, but long enough to teach her a lesson.
Galinda scrambled off her bed and hurriedly approached the other girl, unceremoniously plopping onto the ground next to where she knelt. "Are you stupid? Are you absolutely stupid? Why would you do that? Now the room's going to smell awful, like burnt skin but more disgusting, because of that awful hue."
Elphaba drew into herself, visibly shrinking from the criticizing blonde. Her eyes had grown dark and wide, and she didn't look directly into blue eyes, but rather a spot on the floor where Galinda's face was in the corner of her vision.
"Honestly, how could you be that ridiculously moronic as to stick your hand into fire? Do you not know what fire is, what it does? What, were you born yesterday or something? Just give me your damn hand, let me take a look at it before you ruin something else, you filthy creature."
The blonde reached out to snatch a green wrist, but for the first time in her life, Elphaba retaliated.
"Shut up!" she snarled, hand violently withdrawing from the pale one reaching for it.
It was then that Galinda noticed the other girl's trembling, the way she wasn't looking at her, how heavy her breathing was, how tense she had become. It was a defensive posture, and Elphaba looked like a wounded animal that had been backed into a corner. It occurred to Galinda just how vulnerable her roommate was here. How much control Galinda had asserted over her, without even really meaning to. It was as if she owned her, she could manipulate her however she wanted to.
It then occurred to her that perhaps she shouldn't want to manipulate Elphaba. And, as she reflected on it, she felt sick at the notion of manipulating anyone so directly. Galinda's hand, which had reached out before but was stopped by the sudden defense, snatched itself back to its owner. Galinda looked at Elphaba levelly, who finally met her eyes. In a bold move, Elphaba quirked one eyebrow up, and Galinda gave in.
With a frustrated sigh, Galinda got up and marched over to her bed, deciding to completely ignore her stupid roommate for the remainder of the evening, and perhaps even for the remainder of the week.
XXX
It was thrilling, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects! As Elphaba lay in her bed and cradled her burnt hand – earlier, she had gone into the bathroom to apply some of her burn oil, and that had helped ease the pain tremendously – she couldn't help but think back on the fire, that's what Miss Galinda had called it. The whole idea of it was exhilarating, Elphaba thought. She felt the warmth, comforting and sweet, until it lashed out at her and left her with raw marks. She was more fascinated by the fire than really upset over being burnt.
Initially, she had felt shameful and raw, and then when Miss Galinda attacked her like that, and kept on attacking her… She lashed out. Briefly and limitedly, yes, but it was still the first time she had ever defended herself. She had felt cornered and hurt, and Miss Galinda was only feeding the hate she felt in that moment for, really, herself. Who could blame her for lashing out?
In a way, she thought, Miss Galinda was almost like fire. She amused Elphaba to no end in her own frilly way, how she got so flustered during their arguments, how she was obviously materialistic. It was amusing. And yet, when you got too close, she had a bite as well as a bark. She could be cold, and cruel. Although Elphaba had heard Miss Galinda gossip about her on many an occasion, it was never as cruel as it was… Well, Miss Galinda was trying too hard to fit into the popular crowd, and what she gossiped about made her friends giggle, but didn't penetrate underneath Elphaba's thick green skin.
It wasn't her fault, she thought, if she didn't know what fire was. After all, she had only been alive for three years now, and almost two of those years had been spent in Quadling Country, the third spent mostly in the attic of the house, for it was there that Frexspar would leave her alone.
Even as she thought herself into a stupor, willing sleep to come upon her, Elphaba knew that fire had had some sort of impact on her today. She couldn't care less about the burn on her hand, but… Now she knew that she wasn't the only thing that was both one thing and the opposite. While she was life out of death, the fire was pain out of warmth. It made her wonder about her comparison with Miss Galinda and the fire, and if there were, then, any comparisons to be made between her and Miss Galinda.
Before she could ponder that any longer, her mind shut itself off and she slipped into a sleep.
XXX
The rest of the week passed much like the first day – classes were interesting, but basic, and Elphaba spent most of her time outside of them studying her class textbooks and reading about politics, religion, and Oz in the library. When she saw Miss Galinda, it was either in passing or mutual ignorance of the other's presence. The one problem that had presented itself to her was thus: food.
For the week, Elphaba had volunteered to pick the vegetables in the garden for the buttery, and pilfered enough to keep herself fed – it wasn't a job she was being paid for, so she figured her hard work earned her something. In her readings, she had discovered the basics of economy, which followed as: work equals money.
Money buys food.
Elphaba had deigned earlier this Saturday that she would try to earn herself a job this weekend, since she had no classes over these two days. It was a perfect opportunity to keep herself out of line of her petty roommate. Although these past few days had been normal, they'd also been strained. Both of the occupants of Room 22 hadn't said a word since the fire incident on Wednesday. Elphaba swore that the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees when the blonde girl would step into it.
Elphaba had since learned the name of the pompous woman who had assigned her to Galinda's room and ama – Madame Morrible, something just as pompous as she – and decided that perhaps this Madame Morrible would know where one could find employment on the campus. Her feet padded lightly and unfeelingly across the pavement as she headed in the direction of Morrible's office, something that had been pointed out to her by Doctor Dillamond in response to her question about it.
Over the week, Elphaba had grown a little closer to Doctor Dillamond. She exceeded in his class, and he always welcomed her to run her own little experiments after and before classes. She did. She would collect leaves from trees and flower petals and examine them, compare them to her own cells, to Doctor Dillamond's. If she had a way to get a piece of DNA from a person who was normally-colored and human, not Animal… Maybe she could prove that she really wasn't that different. She could, potentially, prove her own validity.
Madame Morrible's office was situated in the main office building, which Elphaba had never been in before today. It was stately, she thought, and overly formal, but she had never paid much attention to the architecture around her. Madame Morrible's office was nestled deep a few doors in, but having received the directions, Elphaba had no problem with finding it.
A confident verdant hand knocked on the door once, twice. She heard a slight tinkling sound from inside, like expensive china, and then that overly-recognizably regal voice rang out; "Come in."
Slowly, with a touch of nervousness beginning to seep into her mind, Elphaba did, opening the door and stepping inside, delicately closing the room off before she approached the desk. On the other side of the desk, Madame Morrible sat in a chair almost as extra as she was. Hoops and bangles were attached to the sides of the chair, though at first glance, they might as well have been attached to Madame Morrible, judging by how many she wore. Her lips were constantly pursed in a fish-like manner, and her narrowed eyes with black irises were the opposite of welcome. The gauntness of her cheeks tied off this Carp look she wore – well, that and the fishy smell about her.
"Ah, Miss Elphaba. A bright young lady you are, I hear. Is there something I can do for you, dear?"
Her voice rubbed Elphaba the wrong way, even if her words were kind and formal. Also, sort of informal. The paradox added to Elphaba's agitation. "I've come with a question, Madame. I was hoping you'd perhaps have an answer."
Madame Morrible's lips pursed a little more as she set down the cup of tea that was in her pale hand. "Of course, dear. Please, take a seat." Feeling as if she was somehow signing away… Well, she didn't actually own much, but signing away something important, Elphaba took the seat. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
No, Elphaba figured, that would not be a good idea. She remembered, back in that little house in Nest Hardings with Frex and Nessa and Nanny and Shell, she had once tried a sip of tea, to see if she could drink it. Really, it was Nanny's hypothesis, and Nessa had worried that Elphaba's mouth would get awfully burned. The tea was cooled enough so they knew that any burning that occurred would not be the fault of the temperature, and when Elphaba took a sip, it had been tiny, as instructed by Nanny. Her tongue had turned red with the burn, though it was diluted enough, Elphaba thought, not to severely damage her. Fortunately, as she learned from Nanny that day, the mouth was the quickest-healing part of the body, and within a couple days, she was fine again.
"No thank you."
"Polite," Madame Morrible smiled, and the sight of it was ever more unnerving. This woman had an air about her that Elphaba didn't think she liked all that much. "That's quite alright. My tea is brewed rather strong. I've found that I tend to enjoy the more bitter aspects of things. A personal preference, really."
Elphaba suddenly found it very hard to speak. The more bitter aspects. Did that have some sort of double meaning that Elphaba wasn't comprehending? She grew fearful of this woman, in a very short time, and it took an effort to force her lips to curl up at the ends with a smile when she truly wanted to grimace. "My question?" she asked, having to clear her throat to get the words out.
"Ah, yes," Madame Morrible smirked. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"I was hoping," Elphaba admitted. "You see; I find myself in want of employment. Do you, perhaps, know of anywhere that might be hiring?"
Those pale pink – the color of death, Elphaba thought – lips twitched in thought, and an almost imperceptible, unreadable glint entered those beady eyes. "What a question. I'm sure there are shops around in Shiz that would be in need of help, but I fear, you might be a bit too… bright for their needs." Was that a backhanded insult? It was nestled deep in a faux-compliment, and the tone was so unreadable that Elphaba couldn't be sure.
"I'm certain I could make good in a job, Madame."
"Yes, you're quite the hard worker, as your teachers have told me thus far. It's only been a week, of course, so things may change." A pause. "They do say you don't do very well with others, though."
"I can. If I'm given the chance, I can." Why did it feel like she was trying to prove herself to Morrible?
"Indeed," Morrible scrutinized her. "I've no doubts in your abilities. In fact, I actually have been debating hiring an assistant. Just someone to, you know, sort through my papers, organize files, and such. Very basic organizational jobs."
Elphaba felt a glimmer of hope, ignoring the ugly feeling in her gut at the prospect of working for someone such as Madame Morrible. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to consider me, then. I'm a good worker, Madame. I work fast, too."
"An assistant needs to have a sharp appearance."
Ah, that killed it. Elphaba frowned. "Is it because of my skin? Madame, I was made like this, and there's no way to reverse it or anything, though I've tried. What do you suggest? I'd find a dragon and sell my legs to it for a chance to be a normal-"
"Miss Elphaba, please."
She stopped, looking at the fishy woman.
"I was not referring to your skin, but rather, your attire. As long as your skin is kept clean, I wouldn't rather care for it being green, or white, or even purple or red. Clothing, however, speaks volumes. That is something that your roommate, the lovely Miss Galinda, knows well. I don't want an assistant who looks as if she's wearing a bag, who looks as if she's homeless. I want an assistant that looks proud to be my assistant."
Elphaba's brows furrowed a little in confusion. "So, you want me to buy more proper clothing?"
"And some shoes, too, might be a nice investment."
With a frown, Elphaba looked down at her feet. She had never actually owned a pair of shoes, and she was so used to walking barefoot that it really didn't bother her any. She never thought she'd need a pair of shoes.
"Now, if that's all, Miss Elphaba, I've a meeting to attend. Good luck on your job hunt," Madame Morrible smiled wickedly and moved one bony finger in the direction of the door, indicating silently that Elphaba'd better leave.
And so she did, not wasting time but retaining her dignity with a raised chin as she ventured out of the main office building and headed back towards Crage Hall.
She was grateful, upon reaching Room 22 within Crage Hall, to find that Miss Galinda was absent, for Elphaba had much to brood about, and brooding, she found, was most effective in the silence and security of one's own person. It was interesting, that Madame Morrible had made the comment about her not working well with others. As far as she could remember, she hadn't had to work with anyone in any of her classes thus far besides the teacher, who she always got along with, so she was left to wonder if that comment was something Morrible had made up, or perhaps Morrible had been truthful, but her professors had gathered the information merely out of observance of how other students avoided her. Regardless, it was a little irritating that she should be judged so harshly before she was even given a chance to prove herself regarding what she was being judged about.
Additionally, she wondered why shoes made such a big deal to Madame Morrible. Of course, other people wore them, but she had never really seen the point to them. From what she had read in history books, their ancestors used to walk barefoot all the time, for shoes back then were irrelevant and unrequired. Why should it be any difference now?
What really irked Elphaba about it was the fact that, in order to attain shoes, she would need to have money. However, in order to get money, she needed a job. And the job, as she saw, could only be attained if she had shoes. Granted, she could go to some of the shops in Shiz, but Madame Morrible had a point – if people reacted so awfully to her when she wasn't even bothering them, what type of damage could she do to the reputation of a restaurant, or diner, or store? People would avoid the venue like the plague, if only to avoid her "contagious" green condition. If Madame Morrible didn't care about her skin, then she was the best option any green person in Oz had. And, in being the only green person thus discovered in Oz, Elphaba decided that it was her right to take that opportunity. Only, without the job, she could not get the money, or the shoes required to earn herself the job.
An elaborate catch-22 presented itself to her, and Elphaba became wholly frustrated with the entire situation.
As she glared at the wall opposite her bed, it occurred to Elphaba that she had been neglecting a promised responsibility, and she nearly jumped as she remembered. As she departed from Nessa and Nanny at the bus station, where she would travel to Shiz, Nessa had been reluctant to let her go. She had tried to convince her to stay another year, to become more accustomed to society and people before she plunged herself deep within the cruelest webs of the cruelest and most stressed people alive: college students.
But Elphaba was determined to attend Shiz University this year; Shiz had become, for her, a shining star, a green light at the end of the dock, beckoning her and summoning her into society and humanity. It was her pathway into the world, her golden ticket to her life. She had waited so long for this, ever since she learned to read and found out about university; she couldn't wait another year. She had spent one year in Munchkinland with them already. Hadn't she learned enough? So, she declined Nessa's teary demand, and then the armless girl took another tactic, insisting that Elphaba write to her, at least every week, and tell her what went on, how she was, and how she was fitting into society.
"I want you to promise me," Nessa said, "I want you to promise me you'll write, every month. Every week! I want to know what goes on, and how you adjust. Tell me about your classes, even. And please, please promise me you'll try to make friends. Once the initial shock of your condition wears off, they'll all find you can be a rather charming person. You better promise this all to me, Elphaba Thropp. You better."
Now suddenly enslaved by her sister's request, Elphaba took the welcome distraction and dug through her bag, hoping she had some loose paper somewhere. After finding none loose, she promptly tore a few pages from her notebook and set them flat on her desk. She had to dive back at her bag to dig out a pencil, but once she sat, staring at the paper with the pencil poised above it, she found that she really didn't have anything to say. At least, she wasn't sure what she had to say. Once she started, though, it all flowed out like a river from the base.
Dear Nessarose,
I apologize for not writing yet, but this week has been long and trying. It has been good, though. Upon arriving at the campus, I was not pelted with any sort of damaging instrument, which I suppose is a positive sign. I have mostly been occupied with my classes, which, although they are at their most basic level, are astoundingly interesting to me. I've already read three chapters ahead in all of my textbooks, and I could teach it, too, I bet! All jokes aside, though, I am truly enjoying Shiz University. My favorite class this far is life sciences with Doctor Dillamond, who is a brilliant professor. He's a Goat, too!
Did you know about the oppression of the Animals in Oz? I read about it in the Shiz Library, which is definitely my favorite location on campus. It seems silly for me to have thought my library in Quadling Country to be the only one out there, but I think that was just foolish, childish ignorance for the sake of preserving what was the one home I had known. That, too, is foolish, I suppose. This Shiz Library could certainly be my new home, I think.
Overall, I have been adjusting to Shiz University, and university life in general, rather well. The campus is beautiful, and I like to take walks in it and ponder my latest research. One thing that has occurred to me is the need for money. See, I have been picking out of the vegetable garden, and saving some aside as payment for my work, but in craving for real food, I discovered that I need money, and in order to attain that, I need work. I have been looking for a job, and found one potential one that claims not to care for my skin condition or spotty background, but the only problem is, the employer insists I require shoes. This is silly, to me, since I've gone three years without shoes, and I have been fine. It has never concerned me before whether I've had them or not. I have a conundrum, though, since in order to get shoes, I need money, which I need work for, which requires the shoes that I need the work to get.
I'm working on figuring it all out. Aside from that, really, I've been fine. It's almost thrilling that I haven't been physically beaten yet – I say yet because of the way these people talk about me behind my back. They're not even very good at hiding it, which I find to be absolutely hilarious. If they insist on insulting me, why bother being so discreet about it? I really couldn't care less. But yes, I am enjoying Shiz University.
Might I inquire about the welfares of Nanny and Shell? And perhaps, if Frexspar is doing better without my presence? As being present whenever I am present, I have not seen how he acts without my presence. I can't help but be curious about him, and his mannerisms. Is there perhaps anything you could tell me about him sans my presence? Like, how he treats Shell, and you, and Nanny?
The warmest regards to you, Nessarose, my friend. Please do update me with how things are in Munchkinland.
Elphaba
It didn't quite feel right to call Nessa her sister, or even to give herself the last name of the family. Although she had spent the last year of her life with them, they were not family – she didn't even know what family was – and Munchkinland was not her home. That decrepit old house in Nest Hardings was nothing compared to her new library.
She decided she was going to send the letter off in the Shiz postal office later that evening. In the past year, she had made a point to learn about the workings of society, such as what types of buildings did what, careers and positions. She learned a little about politics – aside from the topic of the Eminence, neither Nessa nor Nanny seemed particularly eager to speak about the subject, but they did tell her how the Wizard came in some twenty years ago and uprooted the Ozma regime – and what luxuries and basics were. Things she hadn't figured out while living on her own. However, although they wore shoes, neither Nanny nor Nessa seemed concerned about Elphaba's footwear.
Nanny had taken Elphaba out into society sometimes, protective and scaring off anyone with fearfully malicious intentions, to teach her how to interact with people, how to order food and hold a fork in public, how to act with workers – especially when they reacted badly to the sight of her – and utilize common services.
In spite of all of this, Elphaba couldn't help a small quiver of anxiety at the notion. She'd do it still, and she had interacted with postal workers before, but never alone. She was worried that perhaps one of them would throw a roll of tape at her because of her hideous appearance, undaunted due to the lack of Nanny's piercing gaze, and she wouldn't be able to duck fast enough.
She'd been staring at her paper, but didn't even realize she was doing so until the door to Room 22 opened and a tiny grumbling Frottican stumbled in, kicking her heels off and frumping over to her bed, which she promptly flopped down on her stomach onto.
As if she was being shocked back into reality, Elphaba gathered the papers of her letter to Nessarose and delicately tucked them into a drawer of her desk. She was hyperaware of cold blue eyes watching her as she impulsively straightened out the rest of the area, including removing a piece of paper she had dropped from the ground and depositing it into the trash can beside the writing station.
"What an odd sight, you in this room without a book in your hands."
Miss Galinda's voice was prickly, and judgmentally unkind. When she spoke, it was with no obvious degree of sweetness, but Elphaba was more curious about the fact that Miss Galinda was speaking at all.
She's looking for a fight, Elphaba thought as she ignored her roommate and transitioned over to her own bed. It took a fancying moment for her mind to change to the act of engaging her frilly little roommate. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Galinda, I do exist outside of reading, and I was not made for the confines of a book, though I do admit to being so charmed by them that I can't fault you for thinking so."
There. Miss Galinda got what she wanted: an argument, a bit of a fight, some bite to counter and a green girl to torment.
"Perhaps you were conceived for reading, and you've never known. Perhaps, in creating you, your parents had the sole idea in mind to craft you within your mother for the purpose of hiding in your musty old books with your contagious green hands."
Something about that comment really set Elphaba off, but she wasn't certain what. That was a lie. She knew exactly what it was that set her off, and that was what Miss Galinda was assuming about her home life, and what Miss Galinda assumed about Elphaba having a family or parents at all.
But of course, any other person in Shiz was born of their mother, conceived on a hot, sweaty night between two lovers that they'd never forget. Of course, any other living being – human or Animal – in Shiz was made of love, of promise and commitment and everything in between that Elphaba didn't understand, could not, for the life of her, understand, because those concepts were not involved in the making of her; nothing was involved in the making of her except possession, obsession, and a wickless candle.
That thought almost physically burned her, and Elphaba couldn't help a wince. She didn't even realize until now that she had been staring at the ground, with a paper from the floor in her hands, one arm halfway extended to throw it away. Galinda was frowning at her with annoyance at her sudden stopping.
But now, back in reality, Elphaba cleared her throat and gave her head a little shake. She carelessly tossed the paper in the trash and gave her roommate a sharp look on the way to her own bed. "I don't see why or whether it matters to you, Miss Galinda, for what purpose I was created, but if your own purpose was to be a silly, spoiled brat who has only a tongue dipped in insults and judgment, then I do say, your creators fully succeeded."
The blonde-framed face quickly grew red then, gently contrasting the perfect golden curls around it. Miss Galinda's mouth opened and closed like a fish, something which Elphaba had seen her do before; it amused the green girl all the same.
"Miss Elphaba, I do believe you've naught a kind bone in your body!" she cried out. "This entire week, you've been nothing but nasty to me and your peers! You've no right to say an unkind word for my temperament when your own is so drastically worse. You must learn to control yourself, Miss Elphaba."
Desperately, Elphaba wanted to point out the harshness of the insults Galinda pelted her with, the night with the fire when Galinda attacked her so cruelly when she'd already been burned in more way than one, the fact that Galinda was always the one to raise her voice. But she didn't, for she recalled so clearly another piece of advice Nessa had given her.
"Now, Elphaba, you need to make sure, no matter how much people may goad you or bait you to lash out, you mustn't. We don't want people to fear you. As you know, fear is what leads to your pain when they become so overwhelmed that they resort to physical violence. You may ward off attacks with your words, but do not attack. Merely defend."
"Is there a difference?" Elphaba asked of her sister, confused about this notion. She couldn't quite understand why Nessa didn't want her to have the same power as her peers. If they could attack her, why couldn't she attack back?
Nessa shot her a hard look. "Of course there is. If I insult you, you can insult me in return, but in moderation. You must watch yourself, so you don't inspire enough anger for such person to act out against you. Use your words for self-defense, not for war. Words have unbelievable power, and if you wield them right, then everything will fall into place around you, and you can balance being alive and being in society without having to worry about either being at risk of crumbling."
And it was for that, for her sister, that Elphaba chose not to respond to the volley of shots from Miss Galinda, who, rather clearly, was far too dense to realize her own faults. But that was quite alright, for Elphaba was plenty astute enough to realize her faults for the both of them, and accommodate them to manipulate Miss Galinda however she chose. Like now. While Elphaba could anger Miss Galinda further, she had chosen instead to push the tiny blonde to an in-between state of anger, where one was too angry to be at peace, but not angry enough to lash out. In this position, she was right where Elphaba wanted her.
Miss Galinda, who was fuming on the other side of the room still, realized that her roommate would not be responding to her insult, and let out her signature huff before disappearing into the bathroom to take a cold shower.
XXX
Absolutely infuriating. Miss Elphaba was absolutely infuriating in the way that she seemed not to care to engage anyone any longer than her attention span would last. Though, that wasn't always a bad thing, as engagement with Miss Elphaba was so frustrating and awful and necessarily syllabic that a conversation with her was never pleasant. And yet, the way that she dropped it off, as if she had simply lost interest in interacting with the other person, was even more hurtful than her awful tone and insults.
Galinda stretched up in the shower, trying to calm herself down after that particular encounter with the notorious green bean. She heard the door open and close outside of the bathroom, and hoped that meant that Elphaba had left, because not only did she insult her, but Miss Elphaba also confused Galinda more than any other specimen had ever confused her before. It was so aggravating!
She couldn't shake the sight of Elphaba almost frantically shoving papers into her desk drawer, no more than she could shake that fearful, defensive look in dark eyes on the night where she had stuck her hand into the fire, like a naïve child.
Miss Elphaba was a mystery, and perhaps the most obnoxious thing was how drawn Galinda was to that mystery; desperately, she wanted to discover more about Miss Elphaba, if only to assuage her own wonderings about the girl. What Madame Morrible had told her about the girl's origin in Ev was only a tantalizing taste of what was sure to be a rather interesting backstory, and in spite of herself, Galinda needed to know. What if Miss Elphaba had been born in a sewer? What if she had lived with elves for years? Things like this could certainly cause danger to Galinda, and so, she deserved a right to know, didn't she?
Once she was done cooling herself off in the shower, she dried her body with a towel and slipped back into her outfit for the day. Something had occurred to her that irked her curiosity ever higher, and she was determined to find out answers about the mysterious cabbage person.
Back out into the main part of the bedroom, now, Galinda recalled how Elphaba had shoved those papers into her desk, and didn't hesitate to, like a magpie, head towards that desk. The papers were quickly extracted from the drawer in which they disappeared, and Galinda briefly considered sitting in the green girl's chair, but the thought was so revolting that she, instead, took the pilfered papers and sat on her own bed to review them.
There were several very concerning notions in the entirety of the letter, the least of which was probably who this 'Nessarose' even was. The most concerning might have been when Elphaba stated that she was not yet pelted with anything. Was that a common activity? To throw stuff – stones? – at the closest green person you could find? Galinda hated her roommate more than anything else, and even she wouldn't pelt someone for no reason. Also, Elphaba's language was almost…ambiguous throughout the letter. She didn't name any specifics in relation to her, nor did she directly mention anyone from Shiz except that old Goat whose class always bored Galinda half to death. The shoe predicament, though, was…hilarious. Galinda found herself suppressing giggles. It was true, then; the green bean truly did not own a pair of shoes, and now she was paying for it. In analyzing the letter, however, Galinda was slightly put off by the phrase, 'I've gone three years without shoes'. It implied, to Galinda, that the green person had once owned shoes in her life – for, surely, to be at university, you had to be older than three years. Why, then, would she not have shoes now?
At dinner, that day, she relayed all of this information to her friends in the buttery (sans the part about pelting) and posed the same question that had struck her earlier.
"I can't believe you've read that far into her letter. I, personally, wouldn't touch anything that green hands touched," Shenshen wrinkled her nose slightly in disgust.
Pfannee giggled and nodded her head, but Milla seemed to actually be considering the question that was posed. "You analyzed it, too," Pfannee pointed out. "That's so extratic, Galinda. Do you care so much about her now?"
Galinda's face grew red at the teasing, and she turned her head away. "I cannot stand my roommate, Pfannee. I don't care about her at all. I was merely hoping for some gossiping material, and I got some. The pathetic creature doesn't even own shoes. How hilarifying is that?"
With a laugh, Shenshen nodded her agreement. "It is truly hilarifying. How could one go for years without shoes?"
Finally, Milla spoke up. "Perhaps… it's a religious calling. Like, a chosen poverty?"
There was a moment of dead silence where everyone processed what the Munchkin girl had said, and then the entire table burst out into obnoxiously loud laughter. Other patrons in the diner shot them wary looks, but the girls were too absorbed in their gleeful laughing to notice or even care about the looks that were shot at them.
Galinda sobered up before the rest of the group, coming back to reality like a swimmer comes up for air, but deciding not to swim any longer that day. Something about the tone her friends used was off-putting, but Galinda couldn't – and wouldn't – place it for the life of her. These people were the types of friends she needed. She came from a good place, but they came from better. While she grew up on her farm, working with the servants to pick and pull before her mother deemed it unwomanly, her friends had lounged on sofas and drank flavored tea, munching on muffins and riding horses through grassy hills. These were the friends that would raise Galinda higher in this world, that would establish a position for her, a reputation in the upper echelon of Gillikin, rather than her homely little Frottica. These people, she knew, would be the difference between a baronet and a baron.
"Oh, oh! I've just been struck by an idea!" cried Pfannee as she recovered from her laughter. This sobered the rest of the group as they wiped tears out of their eyes to pay attention to her. "Maybe, just maybe, we can get rid of that awful green bean, and then we wouldn't have to have our eyes scarred by her ugliness anymore."
Galinda narrowed her eyes a little bit in contemplation. "I need that disgustingified creature out of my room. I'm in."
"What do you have in mind?" Milla asked conspiratorially.
Pfannee's smile spoke a thousand words.
A/N: Well, that was chapter three for y'all! Hope y'all enjoyed it. If you did, or even if you didn't, go ahead and leave a review. Let me know how I'm doing, how you feel about the characters, the scenes... What you'd like to see in the future, maybe. Reviews keep a writer writing, of course!