Elphaba's voice filled Glinda, pressing into her like a thumb into hot pie. Standing at the head of the ballroom, the Munchkinlander's gaze wafted over tables of seated Munchkins, returning always reluctantly, ever hesitantly—to her. Had Elphaba seen her this time? Seen her as someone other than a villain, a thief, an entitled Gillikinese? Might there be an end to her suffocating solitude?

When none of her company came the first week, nor the second, Glinda realized that whoever Galinda was, she had been unimportant, likely unremarkable, and most certainly unloved. But, she wasn't Galinda. Not anymore. She was Glinda. And, Glinda could become somebody else, somebody someone might miss.

But just who would Elphaba miss? Elphaba who waited for a Shell of a man, who lived with a sister, vicious as she was beautiful, who was cursed with green skin, plagued with an allergy to water, life itself, who suffered the loss of a kingdom and a people, whose most sacred possessions were stolen by a thief whom she had to take in, who should have been obliterated by life's sorrows, left as stone-hearted as her sister, who had the strength to stand by the window and face her losses each morning, a strength that must have taken a lifetime to summon. Glinda didn't have a lifetime to become admirable, to transform Elphaba's loathing for her into appreciation; she had weeks, filled with cooking, cleaning, and milking, lowly insignificant tasks. Yet with such insignificance she had fed Elphaba, waited on her, and nursed her back to health, all of which felt quite significant. It had even softened her mistress, but Glinda longed for more than a softening. She needed someone to talk to, to care for, to confide in. She needed a friend.

Elphaba finished and Munchkins leapt to their feet, applauding, raising their glasses. Glinda stood clapping. Elphaba bowed to the room and walked toward her. Weavers and other Munchkin migrants continued with cheers while mandolins, banjos, and drums played. They took their seats. Leaning in, Glinda whispered,

"My lady's voice is breathtaking."

Elphaba ignored her. She sipped her milk, collected a serving of vegetable rice, and smiled to Munchkins down the table. Her silence stung Glinda like a slap.

"Well done!" a man's voice said behind them.

Glinda turned to see Avaric standing dressed in his red uniform. The Gillikinese noble had disappointed her. She studied him at the cabin, fastidiously, but he conjured nothing familiar. Not like Elphaba did. Not like her smell. Or the way she clutched her dress. Or raised her eyebrow. Or breathed her vowels. Or swam her 'l's . Avaric in all that vermilion didn't feel like a cousin or brother but a lanky crustacean.

"Thank you," Elphaba said smiling.

"Shall we dance?" he asked.

"That wasn't part of the bargain," she said.

"Would you mind if I borrowed her?" Avaric asked, pointing to Glinda.

Elphaba's lips pursed.

"Come now, just a dance," he pleaded, raising his hands in innocence.

Elphaba glanced at Glinda, her eyes asking: 'Would you want to?'

Wasn't it obvious what she wanted? She wanted Elphaba to converse with her like she did Nessa, Avaric, Munchkinlanders with whom she had never even met. Why must Elphaba persist in her frost? Surely Glinda's actions of late demonstrated contrition. In defeat, Glinda acquiesced.

"I would be honored, my lord."

Avaric grinned. Elphaba crossed her arms and said,

"One dance, but remember what I told you."

"Of course, of course," he said, stretching out his hand.

Glinda placed her hand in his larger, much coarser one. He whipped her from the table and raced her toward the center of the floor. Stopping, he bowed low and said,

"Thank you for this honor."

As if on instinct, her body fell into a curtsy.

"Shall we show these Munchkinlanders a Gillikinese close-stop?" he asked.

A close-stop: a dance that originated from Gillikinese folk dances, but had its equivalence in dances done by nobility. How did she know that? She had no time to wonder. Avaric raised his left arm, her cue to walk forward and be taken by his right. Entering his embrace, he wrapped his right arm in a loose, yet firm hold right below her shoulder blades. Glinda's body knew the pose—chin high, shoulders back, chest forward. She remembered.

Avaric's shoulder arched back, his chest a firm wall. He cut forward, he cut deep. Glinda's matched him with an equally deep step backward. Step back, step back, step back, slide, close-stop. Repeat. Avaric was skilled. He cut across the floor like a knife carving cream. Glinda didn't understand how, but she kept up. She felt his weight and followed. They sped up, her dress fluttering in front of her. Avaric spun her. She ended it, as she knew to do, between his feet. Step back. Step back. Step back. Her heart was thumping. How wonderful it was to know something, to do something right, to feel self-possessed. They continued, with swivels, turns, and dips. Despite the beads of sweat that collected on her neck, despite how her foot throbbed, Glinda felt effervescent with light. Finally Avaric dipped her low, very low. She raised her leg. He grabbed it and marched her across the floor, then dropped her leg and pulled her upright into a close-stop. Holding her tight, he said with a smile,

"It has been a true pleasure, Miss Glinda. Like dancing with a cloud."

Glinda warmed uncomfortably at the nearness of his body, which in motion seemed necessary, but now seemed inappropriately intimate. Her excitement further waning when she considered Elphaba had most likely missed their dance altogether, her attention devoted to nuts and vegetables. The room broke out in hoots and applause. Avaric released her. Glinda spun around. They were the only two on the dance floor. Every Munchkin was on their feet watching. Even Elphaba. She didn't clap, but her gaze was riveted to her. Glinda grinned. The couple bowed to the crowd three times as was customary for Gillikinese dances.

"Shall I return you to your mistress?" Avaric whispered. Glinda nodded.

Elphaba was her mistress, but who was she to Avaric? A friend? A more-than-friend? Did I ever tell you how I found Elphaba in the forest? He didn't answer, but the threat alone was enough to persuade her. What did he know about her? Avaric and Elphaba while not countrymen, were of the same cloth: fine silks, spun wools, and dyed cottons. A courtship between them before the war wouldn't have been strange, but now even a friendship seemed unexpected.

As they arrived at their banquet table, a long split tree trunk, Munchkins raised their glasses, whistled, and cheered. Glinda smiled, bowing her head. Elphaba sipped her nutmeg milk, committing to her silence.

"What did you think, Miss Elphaba?" Avaric asked, leaning across the table.

She gave a half-nod, forcing a nearby Boq to burst,

"You dazzled us!"

"Yes, you both looked radiant, even if the dance was a touch indecent," Nessa said.

Ha! Even the butcher could say something nice in her own way. Why couldn't Elphaba? Glinda sighed. As if reading her mind, Avaric asked,

"Has the cat caught your tongue Miss Elphaba? Or, are you just too shy to share your feelings?"

Nessa snickered and Elphaba threw Avaric a glare so fierce Glinda jumped.

"If you only talked as well as you danced," she hissed.

"Ah, so you did enjoy our little show! Was it me you were studying so intently?" Avaric teased. Elphaba grit her teeth. Glinda's annoyance turned into confusion then discomfort.

"It's a pity because I'm too tired for another dance," he continued.

"I didn't ask you for one, you—"

"But, I'm certain nothing would delight us more," Avaric interrupted, rallying the table, "than a dance led by our best singer, that's you Lady Elphaba, and our best dancer, Glinda."

"Avaric!" Elphaba called, her shout barely audible against a tableful of cheers.

Dance with Elphaba? Hand in hand? Bodies pressed together? With Elphaba in that dress? Elphaba had carried her in and out of the cabin countless times, but it was so perfunctory, so unfeeling, and so very very clothed. Dancing required an openness, a responsiveness, a pliantness, and Elphaba was about as pliant as a pistachio, like a snapping turtle who would peer out, only to pop back in, recoiling even further into her darkness.

"My lady doesn't have to—" Glinda said, but what she really meant was: Couldn't humiliations be saved for the cabin? But, they were grabbed from the table, dragged to the floor, and left facing each other. Elphaba's brown eyes looked down her like a corridor.

"My lady," Glinda said.

"Don't — touch — me," Elphaba whispered.

"Please. My—"

"Get off me!" Elphaba said.

But Glinda wasn't on her. She was several feet away. The Munchkinlander looked to be in the middle of a phantom terror. She looked the way she had when Glinda had tried to undress her, pale green, as if she had seen a ghost. Glinda's stomach soured. Was Elphaba remembering something? Someone? Had someone abused her? Tortured her? Glinda walked closer.

"My lady, it's only me—Glinda."

Elphaba trembled.

"Elphaba," Glinda breathed, dropping her title.

"Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance!" the crowd shouted.

Elphaba's knees wobbled. If she collapsed on the dance floor in front of a sea of Munchkin migrants, the disgrace would be insurmountable.

"Elphie!" Glinda hissed.

Elphaba blinked, her eyes focusing.

"What did you call me?"

What had she called the former ruler of Munchkinland?! Glinda hadn't meant to nickname her. It came out in desperation, in a panic. She bowed low.

"My deepest apologies, I didn't—"

"Let's get this over with," Elphaba said, moving forward only to falter. "I can't— I don't know any Gillikinese dances."

Glinda smiled and said,

"Shall we do a Munchkin Waltz?"

Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know it?"

"I think so." A Munchkin Waltz: the quickest, most elegant waltz, one of the hardest to master.

Elphaba studied her, with a touch of suspicion, or was it fear? Glinda smiled, trying to exude sincerity. Elphaba exhaled and raised her arms high. Glinda came close. Elphaba placed one warm hand beneath Glinda's shoulder blade, pulling her in until their pelvises touched, and clasped her hand with the other.

What was this heat in Glinda's chest? This downpour of caterpillars in her stomach? She stared at the ceiling and Elphaba moved. Her body erect like a javelin, spinning them gracefully, dissolving the space between them, cocooning them in her scent. Spin, Spin, Spin. Slow. Twirl. The dance was much more restrained than the Gillikinese close-stop, yet Glinda felt overwhelmed in sense, flooded in heat, a torrent of bubbles. Thank Oz Elphaba couldn't see her face. The pose required them to gaze away. How silly and red she must look. Elphaba pulled Glinda onto her side, leaning her off her feet. She spun Glinda on her bony hip. The room cheered. Returning Glinda to a stand, Elphaba twirled them. Whirling and whirling until Glinda stuttered. Her foot! It felt like it was splitting in two. She grimaced, biting her lip. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to leave Elphaba's embrace. But Elphaba slowed anyway, coming to a full stop. She released her and bowed very low, her back parallel to the floor. Glinda slid into a deep curtsy. Rising, she noticed Elphaba's face. It was feverish, her eyes dilated, her breath shallow. Munchkins where on their chairs hooting and cheering. The women walked toward each other. Glinda extended her hand and Elphaba took it. The intensity of Elphaba's gaze stilled her. Her mistress turned her toward the crowd, her other hand on her waist as they bowed. Walking to their seats, Elphaba whispered,

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, my lady."

"Your foot—"

"It's only a slight sting," Glinda groaned, trying to keep her gait natural as she limped.

"Well done!" Avaric sounded.

The table resounded in compliments.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid it's rather late. We must say goodnight. Thank you all for your hospitality," Elphaba said.

"But, I don't want to leave," Nessa whined.

"Oh, do stay a bit longer!" Boq pleaded.

"You haven't even tried our mead," Pfannee added.

"Nessarose may do what she likes, but Glinda and I are going home," Elphaba said.

"Where's your spirit, Elphaba!" Avaric asked.

"It's exhausted, especially of you," she said.

"But, Miss Glinda looks most awake," Boq whined.

"Most aroused, I'd say," Avaric said and Boq socked him in the shoulder.

Aroused?! Glinda's hands came to her cheeks. Could everyone see it? How indecent! "I won't say it again," Elphaba said and tipped her head. Grabbing Glinda's hand, she pulled her toward the lift.

"Looks like the canker-blossom wants dear Glinda all to herself!" Pfannee said.

When they were back on the forest floor, blanketed by stars, Glinda hobbling in the cold air, her hand still in Elphaba's, the Munchkinlander turned and without a word pulled her up into her strong arms. The relief was immediate. Glinda looped her arms around Elphaba's neck and wiggled her foot. She could still move it. Relieved, she rested her head against Elphaba's shoulder. Her heart fluttered. How warm Elphaba's neck felt. Glinda nuzzled into her as Elphaba carried her home.

In their room, neither said a word. Elphaba set her by the wall and lit the fire. Glinda untied her laces and removed her boot. Her wound had reopened. The gash was caked in blood. When Elphaba turned and saw it, she fetched her oils and cloth from the window. She came and knelt beside her.

Glinda closed her eyes and held her breath. Elphaba took her foot. Don't cry. Don't shame yourself. Be brave. After a few sharp inhales, a rub here, and a pat there, Elphaba whispered,

"It's finished."

Glinda opened her eyes and fell into Elphaba's. She couldn't look away. Something had shifted. Elphaba was nervous. Suddenly Glinda remembered. That touch. Before the dance. Elphaba's thumb had slid over her breast. And, yet Elphaba drew back with such rapidity that Glinda knew the fondle to be an accident. But now Elphaba was leaning in. Coming closer. Staring at her lips. Licking her own. Glinda heart zib-zibbed. It was as if...as if... it couldn't be! Elphaba couldn't even smile. Couldn't even talk to her. She thought her an ugly, simple-headed scoundrel— an unforgivable burden. Had she gotten it wrong? Could it be Elphaba had other feelings for her? Feelings responsible for her sharp fluctuations in mood? The mere question threw Glinda overboard into a sea of bewilderment. Grasping for the familiar, she whispered,

"Thank you, my lady."

Elphaba paused. Without warning, she rose and retreated to her bed, coring Glinda like an apple.

Why couldn't she control her nerves? What a fool! Glinda lay down and faced the wall, crushing her teeth against her lip. Whatever Elphaba's feelings for her were or weren't, her own disappointment made it clear what she wanted, shamefully clear. The shadows from the fire flicked like wagging fingers: if only—if only—if only you kept quiet.

Flump.

A heavy woolen warmth fell on Glinda. She turned to see Elphaba climbing into bed, one blanket shy. The Munchkinlander scooted into the covers, without looking at her, without acknowledging her gift, without breathing a word, but Glinda grinned anyway, pulling her blanket up to her ears, content to think on those other feelings.

Falling asleep, Glinda saw her first nightmare. Elphaba was tied to a tall-backed reclining chair in the middle of their kitchen, naked, her back to her, her green legs raised and open, her toes pointing in the air. She murmured something, in a frightened garbled voice, calling for someone. Glinda wanted to run and untie her, but she was stuck to her spot, sinking into the floor. Something was in her hands. Elphaba's ripped clothing! Why did she have them? Why were they ripped? What had she done? She burst awake, covered in sweat, breathing hard, and crawled toward Elphaba's bed. On her knees she popped up and leaned over. Elphaba was still breathing, calm and steady. Watching the rise and fall of the Munchkinlander's chest, her heart settled. She folded her hands, bowed her head, and said,

"Dear Lurline, I commend Lady Elphaba to your never-ending care, believing thou art doing far more good for her than anyone can desire or imagine." Then crept back under her blanket, and fell fast asleep until morning.

When Glinda woke again she noticed Elphaba, awake and dressed, on top her bed reading her red book. The Munchkinlander glanced over and startled to see Glinda peering at her. Their gaze stuck as it had last night. Elphaba cleared her throat. Glinda shuffled to a stand. Pain stole her breath. Gasping, she leaned against the wall, raising her foot, her blanket falling off her shoulders. Elphaba scooted off the bed and picked her up. Her unexpected touch made Glinda's belly tighten. She squeezed her thighs together and gently wrapped her arms around Elphaba's neck, hiding her pained face against her chest.

The Munchkinlander walked them down the stairs and out into the crisp winter air. Her thumbs brushing the underside of Glinda's arm and thigh. Glinda shut her eyes, hugging Elphaba tighter. Don't think about her fingers. Don't think how good they feel. How they might slide under her garment and stroke a pinch of pinkness. Glinda's thoughts twisted into a sneeze.

"Hurry now before you catch a chill," Elphaba whispered in Glinda's ear, setting her down.

Glinda, shuddering with desire, was anything but chilled.

As her feet touched the ground, she barely had time to pull up her garment before she released. Finishing her business, she straightened her dress, and turned to see Elphaba staring. Glinda's chest tightened. Had the sight pleased her? Excited her? Last night Glinda had been too nervous for even a kiss. She hadn't even considered what else Elphaba might want from her.

After Elphaba carried her inside, the Munchkinlander abandoned her window, escaping upstairs, leaving Glinda to catch her breath alone. Glinda prepared breakfast, but her mind wasn't on her tasks but on the ardor in Elphaba's gaze. Elphaba hadn't completely forgiven her and yet it seemed parts of her pleased Elphaba. Parts of her she would willingly give over for Elphaba's kindness.

A little later, with a cup of milk in one hand, Glinda knocked on their door. Hearing a grunt, she walked in and found Elphaba on her bed, turning a page in her red book.

"I've brought you something to drink," she said.

Elphaba, deep in her shell, gestured with her eyes to the window sill, her gaze falling back to her book.

Glinda placed the cup by the window. Wanting to make up for her cowardice, she decided to be bold.

"Might my lady read aloud?"

Elphaba stiffened and said,

"Why would I do that?"

"So that I might hear what keeps my lady's attention."

Elphaba's gaze rose slowly, her eyes narrow.

"I advise you to keep your attention on your chores and off of me!"

Glinda startled. Her fantasy unraveling. She crumpled her lip beneath her teeth, prepared to run from the room, but Nessarose came in. Glinda's stomach pitched. Had Lurline saw fit to add shame to humiliation? First to be rejected by Elphaba, then to be beaten in front of her by Nessathorn. The butcher's beatings became so regular while Elphaba was ill, Glinda marked her hours by them. She steadied herself for the first strike of morning, refusing to shrink, but Nessa's strike never came. Her normal baleful glare had softened into a glance of light condescension. Was she still feeling charitable from the dance?

"Good morning, my lady," Glinda breathed, bowing her head.

Nessarose nodded her reply and motioned with her eyes to the door. Glinda gladly scurried into the hallway, hearing Elphaba rise from the bed and Nessa say,

"Fabala you should have stayed last night; you missed all the desserts. Unless you came home for some dessert of your own?"

"Just what are you suggesting?" Elphaba asked.

"The whole table commented on how passionate you and Glinda looked on the dance floor."

"It was a table full of drunks and perverts," Elphaba said.

"More perverted than your penchant for Gillikinese peasants?" Nessa asked.

"Mention such foul things to me again and you will live alone in this cabin!"

Foul things? Glinda's shoulders fell. Were her feelings foul?

"To hear you deny it one could only believe the rumor true," Nessa said.

"Don't test me, Nessy!" Elphaba growled and Nessarose giggled.

Stop, Nessa, please! The more Nessa intimated, the more horrified Elphaba sounded, and the more shameful Glinda felt.

"It was a joke, Fabala. Who would ever believe a Thropp could desire a wretch like Glinda?" Nessa asked.

Glinda had. She had believed that something was happening to them. Elphaba's touch, their gentle embrace, their almost kiss, Elphaba's morning stare. Glinda's heart fell into her feet. Had what felt so purposeful, so intimate, so full of tenderness been only an accident, an embarrassment, a terrible mistake? Had her loneliness caused her to imagine fondness where there was only indifference? "Elphaba!" Nessa called.

"Leave me alone," Elphaba said and before Glinda could hobble down the stairs, Elphaba was in the hallway, flinching at the sight of her. Glinda looked away. Elphaba flew past.

"Elphaba, where are you going?" Nessa called from the bedroom doorway.

"The wishing tree!" Elphaba shouted from downstairs before she slammed the front door.

"Always so sensitive," Nessarose muttered, making her way downstairs.

Glinda served Nessarose breakfast, and this morning, like all mornings, she prayed for every bite to choke her. But this morning, unlike all mornings, Nessa wasn't to blame for her pain. It was her own perverse desires that shamed her, made her wish for something that horrified Elphaba. The afternoon came and went but Elphaba did not return. Nessa, still high on her good mood, told her after saving a plate for Elphaba, she could have a few potatoes herself, she was leaving for Boq's. Glinda thanked her but couldn't eat. Mention such foul things to me again and you will live alone in this cabin! Elphaba wouldn't leave them, would she? Several candlemarks after Nessa left, a knock came.

Elphaba!

Glinda set down her broom and raced to the door to find Pfannee standing there covered in fresh snow.

"Just the face I came to see!" she said, walking inside without an invitation. Closing the door, Glinda held in a sigh. She knew she should be grateful for the weaver's pleasant demeanor toward her, but unlike Elphaba's elegance or even Nessa's primness, Pfannee, while possessing an uncommon beauty, was coarse. She didn't glide like Elphaba, but plowed, head first, stomping through cabin and tree. Her speech was no better. Whatever passed through her mind had only one path out her mouth. Pfannee's abandonment of all intelligible manner felt like an impromptu dance whose rhythm Glinda could never catch. Worst of all, the weaver reminded Glinda of how she must appear to Elphaba—illiterate and poorly dressed.

Glinda poured them cups of water and grabbed a plate and ladle, when the Munchkin said,

"Don't bother with those rotten things!"

Glinda grimaced. If she hadn't come for her food, what did Pfannee want? Setting down the utensils, Glinda took a sip of water.

Warming her hands by the fireplace, Pfannee asked,

"So tell me Glinda, do you ride your mistress often?"

Water flew through Glinda's nose in a cough. She grabbed a rag on the counter and wiped her face.

"Pardon?"

Pfannee grinned and said,

"Your dance. You seemed quite comfortable with that green touch. Is that the service she keeps you for? It's surely not your cooking."

That green touch? Her service? Glinda's cheeks crimsoned.

"You're mistaken! I cook and clean for Lady Elphaba. I don't— "

"Bare your bird's nest for her?"

Glinda cringed. Foul. Wretched. Dirty. Little. Monster. Is that what everyone saw? No. That's what she was. She had wanted Elphaba to kiss her, to touch her, but not like this, not like how Pfannee described it, and definitely not anymore, not when she knew how it sickened Elphaba.

"I'm not—I haven't—Lady Elphaba would never—"

"Glinda, don't be bashful. We Weavers aren't prudes as Munchkin nobility pretend to be. It would please us if you had some experience. I would like to invite you to a wonderful night of thrills, much more thrilling than a dance with a cucumber."

"Don't call Lady Elphaba that!"

"How you defend her?" Pfannee said, coming close, reaching out and twisting a golden curl around a calloused finger. Glinda stiffened. "Have I misjudged you? Perhaps it isn't the canker-blossom who requires your services. Perhaps it is you who wishes to serve! So much the better!" she announced, smiling.

Glinda's face grew so hot she thought she would faint. She couldn't cover up. She was exposed, unveiled, revealed to be the whore that she was. Her hands swept over her mouth.

"No need to be shy," Pfannee said, "I've been sent on the Weavers' behalf to invite you to our club, a club that welcomes your feelings and your skills."

"Skills?" she murmured, lowering her hands.

"It's clear you've been trained to dance. Where did you pick it up? A dance hall? A brothel?"

A brothel?! Is that how she know how to dance? Had she entertained men? Women? Is that why she felt those things for Elphaba? Had Nessa been right all along? Hot wetness rushed behind her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Our club welcomes everyone. No matter your fancy, no matter your lineage. You can entertain or be entertained. The choice is yours."

The lump in Glinda's throat only grew.

"Come with me. Find some rest in the hands of another," Pfannee said, "No fear of impregnation at our club. Everyone can watch, but the women entertain the women and the men the men. Would you like a woman to unwind you, Glinda?"

Glinda face went pipping hot. The door opened. Elphaba walked in, shaking snow, fine as dust, off her mantle. Glinda spun around, pretending to stir the potatoes.

"Pfannee. Good afternoon. Have you come for my sister?" Elphaba asked, closing the door.

"No, canker-blossom. Your sister is already with us. She's been dining with Boq and other Munchkin merchants. It's Glinda I've come for."

"Glinda?"

"I've come to invite her to an association that some among us call: The Philosophy Club. Its a place to relax," Pfannee added.

"Relax?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda turned around, her eyes pleading. Pfannee, don't tell. Don't explain. Don't disclose the vile things you want me for!

"Why, sex, boil-brain!"

Glinda flinched and Elphaba winced.

"Glinda won't be going."

"Well if you want to be the one to unwind Glinda, I suppose you could come too," Pfannee said, her nose twisting at the thought. Elphaba's jaw seized.

"No one will be unwinding Glinda," she declared.

"Why? Can't spare her for a few hours?"

Spare her? Could Elphaba, as her mistress, loan her out?

"Glinda is too busy to waste her time on sex!"

"Nessarose said she finished her chores three candlemarks after sundown," Pfannee said. "What chores does she do for you in the dark?"

"None! She'll be having her nightly reading lessons!"

Did Elphaba just say—did that mean— would she really—

"Pity. Our Philosophy Club, on my conscience, could teach Glinda skills that ought to please you far more than reading," Pfannee said, with a wink.

In a blink, Elphaba ushered Pfannee out the door.

"Always a pleasure," Elphaba said, without any, "but this discussion is over. Good night!" She shut the door, resting her nose against the wood. The Weaver huffed before leaving for the trees. Elphaba turned and took in Glinda.

"I'm terribly sorry," Glinda said.

"What now?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.

"I should have never danced—They thought my lady—Oh, it's all my fault."

Elphaba snorted. "Its their own salacious desires that's responsible for this nonsense."

But...it wasn't just their desires. Glinda's eyes fell.

"Thank you."

It was said in a whisper. Glinda wasn't even sure it was said, until Elphaba said it again.

"Thank you for dancing with Nessarose last night."

Glinda was afraid to smile. For whenever she did, Elphaba didn't. Breathe.

"I'm glad it pleased my lady," she said, feeling a nauseating mix of relief, elation, and fatigue. She realized she had to push further if she was ever to have anything with Elphaba. She would have to do it right now, while Elphaba was still grateful. Or she would never muster the courage.

"Did my lady mean it?"

Elphaba lips knit. Apparently she was not in the mood to repeat her gratitude. Glinda straightened and clarified, in a voice that shook only a little,

"Will my lady really teach me how to read?"

Elphaba's lips puckered further. So it had only been an excuse.

"I see," Glinda said and turned toward the fire.

"Be honest."

Glinda turned back.

"About what my lady?"

"How did you know how to dance?"

Glinda's heart jick-jacked.

"I don't know."

"You still don't remember anything about your past?" Elphaba asked.

"No, my lady. I've tried, but it's all a white mist."

"But, then why did Pfannee ask you to come to the Philosophy Club? Did you mention something? Did you ask to go?"

Pfannee asked because she thought her a woman of easy virtue. But, she couldn't say this. Elphaba would throw her out. And then what. The snow was coming down in sheets, not even the nearest trees were visible in that impermeable white. How would she find shelter? Food? Defend herself from wolves and bandits? Not even the dress on her back was hers.

"No, my lady, I did not."

"There must have been a reason."

"She believed I might have worked at a dance hall. That I might have some skills to be of service," Glinda said.

"A dance hall would hardly be versed in the skills Pfannee wanted you to perform tonight."

Glinda bit her lip and stared at hem of her sleeve, tracing the stitching.

"What aren't you telling me? If you are to stay here, Glinda, you must—"

Glinda's stomach dropped. Elphaba would toss her out either way. She felt dim and small, powerless to protect herself, unable to keep her insides from fraying into tiny nervous snippets.

"A brothel..."

"What?"

"Pfannee thought I learned how to dance at a brothel. That's why she wanted me for the Philosophy Club," Glinda said, folding her hands in front her, looking past Elphaba, resigning herself to meet her fate chin high.

Elphaba cackled. How could she laugh?

"Isn't my lady ashamed of me?"

Elphaba's eyes grew sharp.

"How could I not be? There's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I'd never met you, never laid my eyes on you."

Glinda's stomach rolled to full nausea.

"I'll leave tonight, my lady."

"And go where?" Elphaba asked.

"I don't know, I—I—" Glinda stuttered. She wanted to hide, burrow into the earth, slip away into the soil, and never wake up.

"May Galinda not waste a second more. May she leave now and never return," Elphaba said.

With her heart drumming in her ears, Glinda hurried toward Elphaba, toward the door she stood beside. But, Elphaba slid in front of it, blocking her exit.

"Except...Galinda's already left. Hasn't she?" she asked.

Glinda looked up. Elphaba's eyes were questioning. She didn't know what Elphaba wanted to hear, so she said what she knew. "I don't remember anything about Galinda, my lady. I cannot say how much I am her or how much I am me. I cannot right any of my trespasses. I do not know where to look for my company or even who they are, but I vow to my lady, that if she shall find it in her heart to give me a second chance, I shall never allow my lady to regret it."

Elphaba appraised her. For a long while. Until Glinda's gaze dropped to her feet. Until she was sure Elphaba would dismiss her. Until she fully envisioned how it would feel for the chill to swallow her limb by limb.

"Four letters a night," Elphaba said.

"Pardon?" Could it be? Would Elphaba really teach her? Could she stay?

Elphaba headed toward the staircase, and as she ascended she said,

"You should know, Glinda, there are no dance halls or brothels that can teach one to dance as well as you did last night."

A couple candlemarks later, Elphaba came downstairs with a wooden tablet, a block of wax, and quill utensils. At the fireplace, she melted wax onto the tablet, set it on the table to harden, and took a seat, calling Glinda to sit beside her. She explained,

"Reading is like marking a dance between the breath and the mouth. A word's movements can be broken down into two types, stops and flows, called consonants and vowels." She had Glinda say her own name several times, slowly, finding when her mouth obstructed breath and when it released it. Each movement was a sound and each sound had a notation. Reading was memorizing these notations, recalling them with such speed that they turned into words, sentences, and whole stories.

Was there anyone as smart as Elphaba? So confident, so skillful, so seductive. Staring at Elphaba's mouth, Glinda shivered. The way Elphaba said her name, holding her G, pushing her L, sounding her I, humming her N, thudding her D, releasing her A. Elphaba melted her name into an incantation. Each movement of those lips, that tongue, that breath. Focus, Glinda! Not on her mouth. On the lesson!

The Munchkinlander took the wooden tablet of dried wax and quill and carved out the first four notations. Letters she said they were called. One vowel and three consonants. Each letter had a mature shape and a young shape, called: uppercase and lowercase.

"Trace them with your finger," Elphaba instructed.

Extending her first finger, Glinda started in the middle.

"No!" Elphaba said.

Glinda jumped and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for Elphaba to declare their lesson finished, but Elphaba took her hand instead. Glinda opened her eyes, staring at the slender green fingers wrapped around her own.

"Like this. Start at the top." She slid Glinda's finger along the grooves.

"Now you alone," she said.

Glinda nodded.

"Yes, like that, Glinda. Just like that."

And, just like that their nightly lessons started. The top of their days passed in silence as they always had, with Elphaba by her window and Glinda finishing her chores, but as soon as Nessa left to visit Boq and the Weavers, and leave she often did, Elphaba would fetch her utensils and Glinda would meet her at the kitchen table. In a few weeks, Glinda learned the whole alphabet, practicing her letters all over the cabin, with her finger, her foot, her broom, her brush, and her rag.

Glinda's interests weren't the only ones that changed. Nessa seemed to have lost her taste for her more barbarous predilections. She even allowed Glinda to eat, daily, at the table. Not with them, of course, but after the sisters finished. And, Elphaba finally conversed with her, regularly. They spoke mostly about her lessons, the weather, or meals, never divulging any intimacies, nor touching on Elphaba's past, a subject Glinda knew would not be appreciated. Nonetheless, their simple conversations gave Glinda's dreary life substance. And, her lessons were the one time a day Elphaba didn't ration her kindness. Sometimes she even showered Glinda in compliments. Well done, Glinda. That's right. Yes, how very clever of you. To receive Elphaba's praise was to feel those wonderful creeping caterpillars in her stomach, those prickles along her neck, that tickle in both her...

She had developed a cadence with Elphaba, but its habit satisfied less and less. With each passing day Glinda's affection for Elphaba's grew, unbearably so. She wanted to confess it, shout it, indulge it, but Elphaba wouldn't have it. Whatever the two had gained in words, they lost in flesh. Elphaba made certain they didn't touch, scooting away if Glinda slid too close, shying away if Glinda looked too long. It was painfully clear that Elphaba didn't share her feelings. So Glinda did her best to bury hers. Better to talk to Elphaba as a friend than not talk to her at all.

Lurlinemas came and went, with Boq, Pfannee, and Avaric visiting them, bringing all sort of festive dishes and drinks. Boq had stared at her the whole night, asking her question after question, her favorite Munchkin dish, her favorite season, her favorite instrument, on and on until he finally asked her for a dance, which Glinda gave him only so she could escape his conversation. The night ended with a short lapse in Nessa's disposition. When the guests left and Glinda started to clear the table, the butcher slapped her so hard her nose bled, a punishment for her impropriety she was told. Nessa was about to slap her again, when Elphaba caught Nessa's arm and pulled her up the stairs, into Nessa's room, from which, even while the door was closed, the sound of yelling could be heard.

After the winter holidays, came weeks of words. On an early spring afternoon, Elphaba asked Glinda to spell her own name. Glinda had yet to see her reflection, but the word carved in wax felt revelatory. A round, noble beginning, followed by hard rigid lines, a bend, a turning around, and an end on something small and soft. Was that her? Had the jagged trails of her past led to a revision, to be followed by a happy humble end? Would she be allowed a little rest, a little lightness, a little happiness all her own? Starring at herself while Elphaba fixed the logs, she couldn't help but wonder how Elphaba looked. Aelphaba, she carved. They shared two letters. One of them her promising ending. A propitious sign indeed.

"Let's see," Elphaba announced behind her. Before Glinda could hide the tablet, noticing too late she had forgotten to include Elphaba's title, Elphaba pulled the tablet from underneath her.

"Is this my name?"

"I wanted to see...to see what you looked like."

Elphaba smirked. Taking her seat beside her, she crossed out the first A.

"This is how I look."

They seemed even more symmetrical. Glinda beamed.

"What is it?"

"We look well together."

"We?"

"Five beats, one shared vowel, one consonant, and one matching ending. There's a rhythm to us."

Elphaba snickered.

"I suppose," she conceded.

"Lady Elphaba, how—"

"Elphaba."

"Pardon?"

"I am no longer an eminent and far from a lady's station in Gillikin," she said, motioning to the cabin with her hand, "The more I hear 'Lady Elphaba'-this and 'My lady' -that, the more a jest it feels. You may call me Elphaba."

"But, I couldn't. I—"

"You had no problem the night of the dance," Elphaba said, raising an interrogating eyebrow.

Glinda reddened, remembering the nickname she blurted all those weeks ago, her hands flying to her cheeks.

"My apologies!"

"Are unneeded. As I said, Elphaba, will do," Elphaba said.

"But, Lady Nessa would be—"

"Lady Nessa can choose her own designation, not mine."

"Elphaba..." Glinda whispered, testing out her new freedom. It was like sharing a secret. In her excitement, she blurted, "How did you come by your name?"

Elphaba stiffened.

Glinda had ruined it. Their pleasant moment. She had shown herself unworthy of this new privilege. For the proof of her trustworthiness with Elphaba lay in keeping her distance, scooting around unsaid boundaries that in her rush of excitement she carelessly violated. Glinda ground her lip with her teeth, welcoming the pain. Until finally.

"My mother gave it to me," Elphaba said. "I don't know how she came by it. She passed when I was young."

"Was she like you?"

"You mean green?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.

Glinda shook her head.

"I mean smart," and beautiful, she wanted to add but didn't.

Elphaba blushed, glancing away to hide it.

"She liked to read. Before she put me to sleep, she would read me stories, but I can't remember much else. Except that she loved me."

"What does it feel like?"

Elphaba looked at her curiously.

"To be loved?" she asked.

Glinda nodded.

"I've never had to define it."

Of course she hadn't. No one needed to define it, because everyone had someone who loved them. Everyone except her.

"It was daft of me to ask," Glinda said, feeling exposed.

"To feel loved is to feel safe, valued, and wanted," Elphaba answered in a soft voice, a voice that said she wasn't daft at all.

Months passed, until one afternoon the snow returned for its last flurry before fully surrendering to late spring. Glinda was on her knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor, counting the candlemarks till Nessa would come downstairs to leave for Boq's. Hearing the clatter of heels on the staircase, she rose, grinning, until she saw both sisters were dressed for the cold.

"Are you sure you don't need a chaperone?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba snorted.

"This isn't Munchkinland. I've no standing to ruin. But, I might ask the same of you. Haven't the Weavers said anything about how often you visit Boq?"

"I'll have you know Boq and I are never left alone. He's the perfect gentleman," Nessa said, opening the door. "I shall return late. Don't wait up."

Elphaba nodded, waving Nessa off from the doorway, before turning back to announce,

"I'm off to see Avaric this afternoon. We'll have to skip our lesson tonight."

Glinda's stomach clenched, but she kept her smile, nodded, and watched Elphaba shut the door. She fell back to her knees, back to her scrubbing, until an indentation of disappointment appeared in the floorboard.

Night came but neither Elphaba nor Nessa returned. Glinda stood by the window and waited. Where was Elphaba? What was keeping her? What if she fell into a bog? Or was chased by a wolf? Or was accosted by a forest ruffian? Glinda's mind played horrific fates as the candles melted into tiny nubs. She couldn't just wait here. She grabbed Nessa's extra mantle from the door hook and snatched their oil lamp, lit it, and walked toward the door when it opened by itself. Avaric walked in, carrying a tower of books, stamping his boots. Elphaba came in behind him cackling.

"It has nothing to do with my lack of gracefulness!" Avaric said, setting the books down on their table and rubbing a red mark on his forehead. "I couldn't see the branch over this mountain of books you made me haul."

Elphaba looked exuberant and carefree until she glanced at Glinda. She stopped and crossed her arms.

"Leaving somewhere?"

Why had Glinda worried at all? Clearly Elphaba was fine, more than fine, happier than she had ever seen her.

"Nowhere, my lady," Glinda said, returning to formalities, a move that made Elphaba raise an eyebrow.

"You're wearing Nessa's mantle?" Elphaba said, refusing to let the matter drop.

"Isn't it obvious? It's late," Avaric said, "She was about to search for you, weren't you Glinda?"

Elphaba snorted, shaking her head as if Glinda worrying about her whereabouts was the stupidest idea. Yes, stupid indeed. Stupid to care, to think that their lessons meant something, their time together important, even preferable to a long—unchaperoned—night with a Gillikinese lobster. Elphaba examined her, taking in Avaric's suggestion. An incriminating heat spread across Glinda's cheeks. She peeled off Nessa's mantle and rushed to hang it up.

"Any potatoes left?" Avaric asked.

"I'll ready you a plate, Master Avaric," Glinda said, inhaling.

Elphaba came near and caught her arm.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered, and to her own horror Glinda suddenly felt overwhelmed with the impulse to cry.

"Aren't you going to show her the books?" Avaric asked, his back to them.

"I'm just glad my lady is all right," Glinda whispered back, biting her lip and hoping for the pain to suppress her feelings.

"Did you tell her what you brought for her?" Avaric called out again.

What did he say? She hadn't been listening.

"For me?" Glinda asked.

"Elphaba tells me she's been teaching you to read," Avaric said, turning to face them, "She said you need books to practice with."

Glinda's gaze flew to Elphaba whose arms wrapped around herself like a shawl.

"My lady brought books for me?"

"I brought them," Avaric said, flexing his arms, "Elphaba requested."

The Munchkinlander waved them off, darkening, as she walked toward the table.

"A surprise request, I see," Avaric said, chuckling.

"Avaric stop being a pest or I shall send you home," Elphaba said, collecting the stack of books and heading upstairs, leaving the two Gillikinese on their own.

Glinda set down a plate of potatoes for Avaric and stood, hands behind her back, head properly bowed, at the other end of the table.

"Sit."

She sat.

"Elphaba says you don't remember anything from your past, not even where you're from."

"That is right, my lord."

"Your accent places you around Mount Runcible," he said.

Mount Runcible. The name sounded familiar.

"Is that near to where my lord is from?" Glinda asked. Perhaps Avaric could bring back a shard of the life she once lived after all.

"No, Mount Runcible is a two days ride from my homeland of Tenniken, but it's less than a half day's walk from here," Avaric said.

What was this? Her company lived less than a ride away but hadn't even come for her?! She forced a smile and masked the pain of her discovery with another question,

"But, if my lord's home is in Tenniken, why does he choose to live in the forest?"

Avaric's smile wilted, the crook of his mouth twitching, before he set down his quivering fork and said,

"There's no son to return home."

"But how can my lord say this, when—"

"Enough of me, it's all a complete bore, I assure you," he interrupted, getting up from the table. He took a seat closer to Glinda and entreated, "Let us talk more of you, Fair Miss Glinda."

"There is little to tell."

"Do you like carnivals?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever heard of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz?" Avaric asked.

Glinda shook her head.

"They say the Wizard of Oz is capable of doing amazing things, terrifying things. Every carnival he hosts, he grants wishes, some carnivals three or four, and some carnivals only one. But, he might be able to help you."

"Me?"

"If you wished for it, he might be able to return your memory."

"Could he really?"

If she remembered who she was, she could find her company, find Elphaba's jewels, and make everything right.

"It's worth a try, and even if he can't, his carnival is a glorious affair, a debauchery no good woman should miss. A few of the Munchkin merchants are going. I'm sure they can find someone with some extra tickets to sell. Would you like to go?"

"Of course!"

"Then it's settled!" Avaric said.

"I've prepared the beds," Elphaba announced, coming down the stairs, "We'll have to sleep in my room tonight."

"All of us in one bed?" Avaric asked.

"Don't be vulgar. You will sleep on the floor. Glinda and I will share the bed," Elphaba said.

Before Glinda could get over the shock of their new sleeping arrangements, Avaric declared,

"Very well. And, while you were gone, we too have made some preparations. We have a plan to get Glinda's memory back!"


A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the longest update wait to date! However, your lovely messages in the meantime where so wonderful to receive. A big thanks to all the followers and guests who stopped to leave reviews! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts. They are helpful in planning the next chapters. Much more to come. :)