Master Avaric Tenmeadows, at your service. Hell and hell! She told him, warned him, forbid him from mentioning anything about Glinda's past. Now as she paced in her bedroom, with Avaric standing sheepishly in the corner, Glinda waiting downstairs, her own chest caving at the thought of the Princess of Gillikin, Avaric said,
"But, I didn't mention she was aristocracy."
"You weren't supposed to mention anything at all!" she shouted.
"I thought you would want this."
She threw him a whittling glare.
"Come now, woman. You don't have to pretend. It's obvious you care for her. You must want her to remember herself," he said.
Elphaba's stomach reeled.
"Care? For her?"
"The way you danced with her in the ballroom—"
"I had no choice!"
"The way you spend your afternoons teaching her—"
"I was bored!"
"The way you stare at her when you think no one is looking!"
"I—" She blushed.
What right did Avaric have to say any of this?
"It's all quite entertaining and very understandable. Glinda's beautiful. A ripe luscious peach," he said as if picking a scab. No matter how bloody it got, he just kept ripping. "Don't be cross. I have my sights set on someone else," he said.
"What?"
"Glinda is yours for the taking."
"I will not be taking anyone! Least of all Glinda!" she shouted.
"You don't have to be embarrassed. I happen to be discerning—"
"Discern my words right now. If you ever intimate something like this again, it shall be the last time we speak!" she said.
Nothing could happen. It couldn't. She couldn't. Acknowledge the abnormal pleasure that had developed inside her watching Glinda on her hands, on her knees, bowing her head, baring her bottom. Couldn't dare admit how dancing with Glinda's body pressed close had made her heart quicken, her breath shallow, her hands moisten. And she wholly denied that her daily lessons with a thinking, reasoning, wondering Glinda had filled her with a rapture she had nearly forgotten. She couldn't admit it because deep down Elphaba knew. No matter how much she wanted to believe Galinda gone and Glinda different, she wasn't. They were forever wrapped in the same.
"Fine!" the man said, his hands flying in the air, "But even if you don't care for her, she's aristocracy. Why would she steal from you? Isn't there a chance those thieves might have kidnapped her before they came and robbed you? What if Glinda hadn't wanted to rob you at all?"
"You weren't even there!" Elphaba said.
"Does she look evil?"
"Not every devil comes with horns! As someone who served in the Gillikin army, I think you should know this better than anyone!"
Avaric's face tightened. His passionate polemic catching in his throat. Elphaba sighed. She had only meant to silence him, not throw him into the arms of his own devils. If only the eyes of memory slept.
"It's late. I trust you will be decent and stay to your side?" she said, changing the subject. He nodded, still lost in his visions. She turned toward the door. While that lunkhead had been downstairs planning a romp to the Wizard's carnival with Glinda, she had hung a white sheet over the low beam in her bedroom, cutting the room in two. On one side was her bed under the window, on the other side a pile of blankets near the door. The fireplace was partially visible on both sides.
She hadn't a choice. She couldn't let Nessarose walk in on a half-dressed man in the kitchen, which was too drafty for sleep anyway, and she certainly couldn't leave a half-naked man in Nessa's bedroom. That left Elphaba's room. Assigning Glinda to sleep with Avaric on the floor was indecent. Glinda in Nessa's room was even worse. Which meant she would have to share her bed with the woman. The mere thought made her queasy. Not out of disgust but fear and not of Glinda but herself. Elphaba had been hiding from them. Glinda's looks. Looks that had become so explicit they made Elphaba blush. What made it worse was she stole glimpses herself and Avaric wasn't the only one who had noticed. Glinda started to arrange herself in ways to give Elphaba a more pleasant view. A tilt of her collar bone here. A loosening of her button there.
She had to fight it. That pull. Every lesson with Glinda. She felt it. How easy it would be to bend down, to slide over, to touch her. Glinda was so willing, so captive, so eager for her approval. But it wasn't real. Glinda didn't know who she was. Glinda's feelings were based on a spell, a lie. If Glinda regained her memories, she would surely hate her far more than Galinda ever had. More importantly what right did Elphaba have to enjoy Glinda at all? What right did she have to find any sort of happiness in the husk of a woman who destroyed them? All she could do was try to educate Glinda, make her nothing like the Galinda that was.
Elphaba left Avaric to undress by himself, closing the door behind her. She walked down the corridor, to the staircase, descending to see Glinda sweeping, lost in thought. How beautiful she was. The roll of her hips, the line in her shoulders, the tilt of her neck, it was if she was dancing. Stop it! Elphaba sighed through her nose and called from the staircase,
"The bed's ready."
Glinda spun around, her eyes anxious. Had the idea of them together frightened her too? Glinda nodded, placing her broom in the corner, and following Elphaba upstairs, down the hall to their door. Elphaba knocked. Light snoring was the only reply. Elphaba opened the door to find on the floor, the tips of Avaric's hair and the edges of his toes poking out from under a pile of blankets. She pointed Glinda toward the partition. The blonde crept along the wall, past Avaric's boots, and behind the sheet. After shutting the door, Elphaba tip-toed across and pulled back the white cloth to find Glinda unbuttoning. The Gillikinese woman looked over her smooth bare shoulder.
Seeing what a real woman looks like?
Elphaba flinched half-expecting Glinda's soft smile to dissolve into Galinda's sneer. But Glinda only blushed and bit her lip before turning back around. How reserved Glinda was. Galinda knew her beauty and its effects, but Glinda was so uncertain, so shy. Tonight, even shyer than usual. They had undressed in this room, night after night, but never this close. Elphaba looked at the bed with its single pillow and swallowed. One roll and they would be on top of each other. What would Glinda look like pinned beneath her? Elphaba shut her eyes and undid the claps of her dress. It was only several hours. Several hours and everything would be fine. Or at least return to the way it was.
It had gotten worse since she started reading Nessa's red book: The Good Witch of the Great Gillikin Forest. She had thought there might be stories of the Kumbric Witch. There were. But there were just as many detailed love stories of St. Galinda and St. Aelphaba, how they looked, how they laughed, how they loved. They were a pair of star-crossed lovers. Long ago, St. Galinda had been the daughter of the fairy ruler of the forest, and St. Aelphaba had been the daughter of a great and powerful wizard. Meeting at a ball they were taken with each other. As the months passed, the two women sent letters, met at social gatherings, and fell in love. St. Aelphaba's father had planned to take over the fairy forests, enslaving the fairies, and capturing their magic. When he found his daughter was in love with one, he flew into a murderous rage, forbidding St. Aelphaba from seeing St. Galinda ever again. But she defied him. She ran away, sharing his plot with the fairy kingdom. Furious that he had been betrayed by his own blood, he chased the two women down, murdering St. Galinda and imprisoning St. Aelphaba, cursing them both. Every time their spirits returned to Oz they would be enthralled with one another as they once were, only to find their love doomed.
It was strange enough that the two women in the stories had Elphaba and Glinda's names, stranger still that St. Aelphaba was described as discolored and St. Galinda golden-haired, but the strangest of all was St. Aelphaba's feelings for St. Galinda. Her longings to touch her, the warmth she felt when St. Galinda was near, the ache she felt at seeing St. Galinda smile. It was as if St. Aelphaba was her. Elphaba couldn't but remember how drawn she was to the Princess the very first day she had seen her in the ballroom. And the way she was more than drawn to Glinda now. Every time she glanced at Glinda it was getting harder not to imagine St. Galinda. But the two saints' love story was just that—a story, a fable, a fantasy, nothing more. Glinda wasn't a fairy princess, she was the very real princess of Gillikin, a princess who had cost her something far more precious than her own self—Shell.
These burgeoning feelings for Glinda weren't just wrong, they were disloyal. Elphaba waited for him every morning. If he only knew he could come home. She would receive him. He had done nothing wrong. She still loved him. If only she could find the Kumbric Witch again. She would change her wishes, wish them home, wish they had won the war, wish for no war at all. Why had she been so rash with her wishes? Exhaling, she tossed her dress to the floor and turned to find Glinda standing in a near see-through chemise, arms crossed over her breasts.
"How do you want me?" she whispered.
Naked and willing.
"What?" Elphaba rasped, clearing her mind.
"Shall I sleep outside or in?"
Elphaba hadn't the courage to be pinned between the wall and Glinda's body, not tonight.
"Inside."
Glinda nodded and slipped in. Resting on her back, she closed her eyes and folded her hands below her breasts. Wiggling her toes, she cooed with delight, apparently pleased with the softness of the bed.
"The sheet's not thick enough for that," Avaric said from his side.
Glinda's eyes popped open and her hands flew to her mouth.
"There is no that!" Elphaba said through the sheet, "Go to sleep." She looked at the floorboards where Glinda had slept for months. How unyielding they looked. Each crack looked like a crick of the neck, a smarting of limb. When she took Glinda in, she hadn't cared how uncomfortable the Princess was... no... she had taken pleasure in it. But, now with Glinda in her bed, how could she ever send her back to the floor? When she turned around,Glinda was sitting up, apparently interpreting her pause as regret. She scooted toward the edge of the bed about to descend to the floor.
"Are you all right?" Elphaba asked.
"I thought perhaps you—you didn't want..." Glinda stopped, biting her lip, looking at her lap.
"Didn't want any room to sleep?" Elphaba finished, pointing to the sliver between Glinda's folded legs and the edge of the bed.
"No! Of courses not," Glinda said, scooting so far back, her shoulder blades touched the frosted window. She inhaled sharply.
Elphaba got in. Watching Glinda wedge herself in the crack between the bed and the window, without thinking she reached over and grasped the back of Galinda's neck, like she would have done Nessa—Glinda looked too nervous to even take a breath—and pulled her close, scooting half her pillow over for Glinda. The blonde's cheeks were rosy as they lay facing each other on their shared cushion. Her lips so full. So warm and inviting in the moonlight. Elphaba reached out and cupped Galinda's cheek, brushing her lips with her thumb. Glinda inhaled a surprised whimper. She's not in a position to deny you. Stop this. Stop touching her. Elphaba removed her hand and turned over, clasping her blanket to her chest. Clenching her eyes shut, she heard Glinda whisper,
"Fresh dreams, Elphaba."
In Elphaba's dream, she was dancing with Glinda in the treehouse ballroom. They were spinning. Elphaba pulled Glinda close, her dress down. She kissed Glinda's shoulder, her neck, her shy lips. Glinda was squirming, but Elphaba pulled, tugged, and kissed. When she awoke, her eyes still closed, her own lips were pressed against something warm, her hand wrapped around something smooth, her blanket somehow heavier than she remembered. It undulated, wiggling up and down.
"Elphie," a voice whispered in her ear. "Elphie, please! Wake up!"
Elphaba's eyes fluttered open. Her blanket was Glinda. The blonde was draped over her, struggling to prop herself on her elbows, her shift falling away from her skin. Elphaba's mouth was pressed against the start of Glinda's breasts. Her hand gripped Glinda's thigh. She had pulled it over her body. Her fingers were at the precipice of soft moist flesh. Moist?! Elphaba rolled toward Glinda, sliding the woman off her and onto the bed. Her hand flying behind her back. She leaned over to examine Glinda.
"Did I..." she whispered, uncertain of just how long she fondled Glinda, just how far her hand had ventured.
Glinda shook her head.
"You were moaning. I thought it was a nightmare. I tried to wake you. I must have startled you."
Elphaba's cheeks burned. Moaning, was she? Moaning while she stripped Glinda in her dream and fondled Glinda in her bed. Elphaba's mouth went acrid.
"You didn't hurt me," Glinda assured her, "You wouldn't hurt me. I know you wouldn't."
She didn't know. She had no idea that every hurt she experienced was Elphaba's fault. Elphaba had wished it so. Glinda reached up to stroke her cheek, searching her face, trying to decipher her stillness. It was too much to bear. Elphaba took Glinda's hand, wanting to tear it away, but her body betrayed her. Still half-asleep, still half-aroused, she pressed Glinda's palm against her cheek. She felt so empty. So tired. Of waiting. Of wanting. She wanted to give in, give up, give over. And then like a flood her feelings unfolded with a speed she couldn't control. She was leaning down, closing in, like in her dream, like the night of the dance. Her lips touched Glinda's cheek. Glinda gasped, her chest rising. Elphaba couldn't stop. She moved over and kissed Glinda's mouth. Such soft warm wetness. Glinda went rigid. Elphaba adorned her mouth with gentle kisses, and finally Glinda came to life. She kissed back. Light, small, wet caresses. How passionately tender Glinda was. Not like the Galinda's condescending gropes. Elphaba sipped Glinda's bottom lip. Likes waves they pulled back and forth into a fierce heady rhythm.
The door slammed downstairs.
Nessarose! Elphaba flew off Glinda, turning onto her side, facing the pale sheet, her back to the blonde. Her fingers brushed her lips. She could still feel the imprint of Glinda. Could even smell her excitement. Oh, what had she done? What had she done?! She heard Nessa walk up the stairs and into her bedroom. All was quiet. Except for Avaric's light snore. Except for her own pounding heart. Except for Glinda's tight shallow breaths. She didn't dare turn around. Didn't dare acknowledge what happened.
The next morning Elphaba woke before Glinda, rising from the bed with one long glance over her shoulder at the sleeping woman. So serene. How could something so peaceful make Elphaba's heart feel like it might collapse and explode at the same time? She needed to clear her mind. She got dressed and peeked out from the sheet to find Avaric missing, his blankets neatly folded in a pile in the corner. Scooting past the cloth, she walked outside into the hallway to hear talking and laughing downstairs. On the stairs, she smelt something savory and saw Boq and Avaric laughing by the fire.
"Good morning," she said.
Boq turned and grinned.
"Elphaba! Good morning!"
"My sister let you sleep here?" she asked.
He nodded and said,
"She wouldn't let us return home in the dark."
"We?" Elphaba asked.
"Yes, we," Pfannee said stepping out from behind the stairs and Elphaba flinched. "Avaric stayed here too, I see. In your bedroom, no less," she said.
"It wasn't all that exciting," Avaric said, with an exhale, "The only thing hard in there was the floor."
The women glared at him.
"Sit and join us," Avaric said to Elphaba, sprinkling salt on a peeled and skewered hare roasting over the fire. "Boq was just telling us about his plans to entertain the royal court."
"The Gillikinese royal court?" Elphaba asked, recalling in vivid detail the long red carpet and the maple banquet table, or at least the legs of it, the only things she could see while wearing her veil.
Boq nodded.
"Nanny says they're in need of entertainment for the summer festival. That perhaps she could put in a good word with the butler. He might put me on a list to audition."
"You mean Crope?"
"Yes! That's right. You must have met him when you served the Princess of Gillikin. Do you think there's a chance he might say yes?"
"I couldn't say..." Elphaba said, her stomach turning as more memories of the castle bubbled to the surface.
"Nanny says Runcible needs some festivities. There's rumor the Princess is very ill," Boq said.
So that was how Runcible handled Glinda's disappearance—an illness. Boq continued chatting while Avaric rose and sat next to Pfannee, whispering something in her ear, most likely bawdy considering the color of her cheeks.
"But," Boq said, "Nanny says she thinks the Princess isn't ill at all. She thinks she ran away. Perhaps ran into the forest. Imagine a Princess escaping here? We would have noticed a Gillikinese Princess in our midst, wouldn't we have?"
Elphaba swallowed. If Nanny already suspected, how soon would it be until King Upland realized it hadn't been Ugabu mages at all? Had he already realized it? Was the Castle about to search the forest themselves? Did Nanny link her sudden departure and Glinda's disappearance? What must the old woman have thought that terrible evening when she found Elphaba wandering the halls after Galinda had...had...
"She's asked about you," Boq added.
"Me? Elphaba coughed, walking over to the fire, her body chilled.
"She misses Your Eminence," Boq said, "She says the castle isn't the same without you. She wants you to know there's work in the castle if you wanted it."
"I don't."
"Didn't like having a master, did you?" Pfannee asked across the room.
"I didn't like Gillikinese royalty," Elphaba retorted.
Avaric cocked his head.
"They can't be much different than the Munchkin Royal family?" Pfannee said.
"They're as similar as a sunburn and an immolation," Elphaba said.
"What's so different about them?" Avaric asked.
How could one begin to describe the abuses of Gillikin?
"Munchkinland may not have known how to govern its people well," Elphaba started.
"May not?" Pfannee said, springing to her feet, her eyes watering with offense.
"Fine," Elphaba said. "We failed you. We failed our people. We failed to discharge our duties toward you as your stewards, but there was no pleasure in that. No joy in your suffering. The same cannot be said for Gillikinese royalty who take a perverse pleasure in torturing everyone around them."
"Surely not all of them?" Avaric asked.
"There's not a Gillikinese from Runcible who isn't a monster!" Elphaba said.
"Come now. What about our dear Glinda?" Avaric asked.
"What about her?" Elphaba snapped. Was he really going to bring up Glinda after last night?
"Surely you don't find all Runcible women monsters?"
She did. She had. Galinda was the worst monster of all.
But Glinda?
Glinda was...was... well she wasn't from Runcible. She was made in the Great Gillikin Forest. Shaped only by the events in their cabin. Elphaba wrung her hands as she thought of their most recent events.
"Have you nothing to say about Glinda?" Avaric prodded and Elphaba glowered.
"Good morning, Glinda! Come and eat with us!" Boq said and Elphaba spun around. The blonde stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at her, waiting for her answer. Elphaba had none to give. She was stopped by the sight of Glinda's swollen lips. Her own handiwork. She cringed and turned back toward Avaric and Pfannee.
"Good morning everyone," Glinda said and walked down, coming behind Elphaba and whispering in her ear,
"Last night, did you—"
Elphaba's stomach plummeted. Not here. Not in front of everyone. She turned and pulled Galinda away toward the front door as Avaric started telling another story. Clutching her dress in one hand, Elphaba took a deep breath. It didn't mean anything. It was an accident. It would never happen again. Just tell her something. But Glinda spoke first.
"You were gone this morning," the blonde whispered, "and I thought...well—oh, Elphaba, you can take from me whatever you want from me. Only don't stop speaking to me. I couldn't bear it again," Glinda said and Elphaba dropped her dress.
Take whatever she wanted? Is that what Glinda thought she must do to earn her forgiveness, her kindness, her conversation? She must let Elphaba touch her, roll on her, and take advantage of her. Of course. It wasn't like Glinda had wanted to kiss her. She wanted kindness, not a molesting.
"Glinda! Come. Sit by me!" Boq chirped and Glinda hesitated for a moment, waiting, but Elphaba, like a coward, gestured with her chin for her to go. She never felt so grateful for the Munchkin boy. She needed to get away. How could she have been so presumptuous? How could she ever think that Glinda might have really enjoyed it? Her chest tightened. She turned toward the staircase and found Nessa coming down in a red gown and matching ruby red slippers, her hair neatly braided with blue ribbons. Her sister stared at her for a half-second longer than usual, twisting her nose, before she adjusted her face, and exclaimed,
"Elphaba, has he told you?"
"Told me what?"
"I haven't told anyone anything," Boq said with a grin. "I've waited for you."
"Waited to tell me what?" Elphaba asked.
"He's gotten tickets for us all to go the Wizard's carnival at the end of August!" Nessa announced.
The room erupted with surprised inhales. That was only three months away.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Nessa asked.
"Boq—" Elphaba's breath caught. She should thank him, but the impulse to throw him head first out the window was too strong. Why couldn't he keep his meddling charity to himself?
"Oh, Master Boq! How very generous of you!" Glinda said, looking as if she might lean over and hug him.
"Very generous, but Glinda can't go," Elphaba said.
Glinda's grateful expression turned into confusion.
"You don't want me with you?" she asked standing up, an eyebrow arched.
Elphaba looked around. Everyone was staring at her. Even Nessarose looked on disbelieving, seeming to wonder why Elphaba wanted to spoil her joyful tidings.
"If it's Glinda's chores, maybe I could help," Boq said. "Then, we might all go together."
"I could help too," Pfannee offered.
"It's not her chores!" Elphaba said and bolted upstairs, into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and walking straight into a pace, from wall to adjacent fireplace and back again. She didn't have an excuse and she didn't need one. Not for any of them. Her brother had said the Wizard was a swindler. He was likely a fraud. But, several months ago Elphaba had thought the same about forest fairies. Myths. Superstition. Nonsense. But, if this Wizard was anything like Yackle, Elphaba wasn't ready for it. None of them were. She was protecting Nessa, the cripple, Avaric, the deserter, and the Weavers, that band of criminal thieves. That's all they would be in the eyes of Runcible. And most of all, she was protecting Glinda, keeping her from disappearing altogether.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door. Had her sister come with questions? She would just tell Nessarose that Glinda planned to get her memory back. Nessa would find an excuse. This was all her doing! If she hadn't been so interested in the carnival, none of this would have happened at all!
"Come in," she said and flinched at the sight of Glinda. The blonde shut the door behind her, leaning against it, before she stared up at Elphaba with both deference and distress. Elphaba's stomach turned. What did it matter how Glinda looked? What she thought? How she felt?
"Listen—" Elphaba started, intending to order Glinda back downstairs.
"Are you afraid?" Glinda asked.
"Afraid?"
"Afraid that I'll become a monster again?" Glinda asked.
Just how long had Glinda been standing on those stairs?
"Last night Master Avaric told me he could tell where I was from by my voice and..."
Avaric! That man! Did his idiocy know no bounds?! She would see to him later, as soon as Glinda finished.
"Please, Elphaba, please let me see the Wizard," Glinda begged.
Elphaba pressed the material of her dress between her fingers. It wasn't possible. Glinda didn't know what she was asking for.
"You see," Glinda continued, "I don't want to be Galinda. I only want to make things right. If I knew who stole from you, where they were, I could find them, find your jewels. There wouldn't be any harm in that?"
"Glinda," Elphaba whispered. What was she to do with such kindness? Even after everything Elphaba had done to her, even after last night, Glinda still wanted to make her happy. Elphaba had done her best to snip any tenderness from Glinda in the bud, leaving headless the stems of her good intentions, but somewhere she must have been careless, somewhere amidst Glinda's onslaught of goodness, she must have let herself feel more than a tiny joy, because as Glinda pleaded, she realized that as much as, or even more than she was afraid of coming face-to-face with Galinda, she was terrified of losing Glinda.
"We don't know what will happen with your wish," she said.
Glinda came near.
"If I get my wish, if I remember, I wouldn't be like those Runcible Gillikinese."
At Glinda's pronunciation of Runcible, Elphaba could smell herself. The way Galinda used to make her. She could see her brother blind-folded. She covered her mouth, shaking her head. Don't come apart. Don't look like a fool. Not in front of her. Not again. Not now. But, the memories were too strong and she fell to her knees, dry heaving.
"Elphaba? Oh, Elphaba!" Glinda said, kneeling beside her.
Elphaba regained herself, swallowing down her sour bile. What an imbecilic child she must seem, shaking on her knees, denying Glinda a chance to remember herself over some tragedy with a previous employer.
"If I promise not to ask the Wizard, will you let me go with you?" Glinda asked.
"And just why would give up your wish?" Elphaba asked.
Glinda looked down at her lap.
"No wish is worth your friendship."
Her friendship? Glinda would give up her past for that? Elphaba had lost faith in friendship. Or, more nearly, decided it was safer to believe friends didn't exist. Elphaba was an oddity, something curious, something tolerated, something horrifying, never something kept. Why would Glinda want her for a friend? It was as if Elphaba was leaning over a candle. Feeling hot and unbearable, she blurted,
"If you don't ask anything, you may go."
"I can go? I can see the show with you?" Glinda asked, bouncing up and down on her knees.
Elphaba nodded, crossing her arms.
"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said and in a bounce of excitement leaned over and kissed Elphaba's cheek.
They leaned away from one another, both thinly silent, Elphaba afraid to displace any bit of air, afraid if either one acknowledged Glinda's kiss, they would have to acknowledge last night, acknowledge right now, the right-now desire to pull Glinda into her arms and hold her fast. But she didn't worry long. Nessarose opened her door, hands on her hips. Elphaba rose to her feet.
"Fabala, what's gotten into you?" Nessa asked, "Boq's done something wonderful for us, and if you didn't want Glinda to go, you should have waited to tell me after he left!"
"I've changed my mind," Elphaba said.
Nessa glanced at Glinda who rose from the floor, seeming to take in the unnaturalness of the couple's prior position. Shaking her head, she said, "Good! Now come downstairs and tell Boq yourself!"
After the guests left, and the sun began to fall, and Nessa opened the Blessed Oziad by the kitchen fireplace, Elphaba called Glinda to their room for their lessons. Leaning against their closed door, Elphaba watched Glinda kneel on the bed and peruse Avaric's pile of books on the window sill. Here was her chance to explain, to make things right, but Elphaba who always knew what she wanted to say, and when she wanted to say it, couldn't find the words.
Picking a book, Glinda turned and asked,
"Shall we sit and read together on the bed?"
Elphaba shook her head.
"Read aloud on your own today. I'll help if you can't pronounce something."
Glinda nodded and sat back against the headboard and opened her chosen book on raised knees.
"It's a collection of short stories," she said, "May I choose any one?"
"Any one you want."
Flipping toward the end, she read, "Love's Summer. Once upon a time, Saint Aelphaba and Saint Galinda..."
Elphaba had become quite fond of Glinda lately. It wasn't just that Glinda was beautiful, irritatingly so, which made Elphaba want to touch her, as one does with most things beautiful, but Glinda was also sincerely curious. Behind all those blonde curls was a mind struggling to work, and Elphaba looked forward to those workings more and more. They had discussed the history of Ozian dialects, the artistic traditions of Munchkinland, and last week even the competing theologies of Unionism and the pleasure faith.
"On a bed of lilies, St. Aelphaba opened St. Galinda's dress and uncovered her breasts," Glinda read.
What? Had she misheard?
But, looking up, Elphaba saw a pink-cheeked Glinda clenching her red book, reading, "Leaning down St. Aelphaba took one of Galinda's nipples in her—"
Elphaba raced over and ripped the book from Glinda's hands.
"I told you to pick a book from the pile!" she said, hiding the book behind her back.
"It was on the pile," Glinda said quietly, fidgeting with the quilt, unable to look Elphaba in the eyes.
"But, it isn't one of Avaric's books."
"But you read from it," Glinda said.
Elphaba blushed a deep bell pepper green.
"I...read many books."
"None quite as much as this one," Glinda said, "Every morning you—"
"Fine! Fine," Elphaba said, "But, this is a book one reads privately, not—"
"Aloud with one's mistress?" Glinda finished, smoothing out the hem of her dress.
"Definitely not," Elphaba said, her throat suddenly dry.
"Their names...they're like ours," Glinda said.
"But spelled differently," Elphaba said, in a shaky voice, that made her blush even more. As if spelling made a difference, as if that made it better that she spent her mornings reading love stories about two women who sounded and looked just like them. It was an unspoken boundary between them. They didn't discuss whatever this was between them, at least not verbally. Glinda wouldn't. She wouldn't.
"They were lovers."
Would.
Elphaba grunted, looking out the window. Moments ago, apologizing for her kiss seemed impossible, but having failed that simple task, she had been flung into a far worse conversation.
"Have you ever felt like St. Aelphaba did?" Glinda continued.
Elphaba flushed a deep pine. Wasn't it obvious? Did Glinda want her to confess? Admit she felt exactly like St. Aelphaba. That she too wanted a blonde Gillikinese, to hold, to undress, to take her nipples in her...
Glinda cleared her throat.
"I mean...have you ever been with a woman like St. Aelphaba?" she asked and Elphaba's stomach dropped. She clutched her black dress. She had. But that was different. So very different.
"They aren't the same things," Elphaba said, closing her eyes against the memories of Galinda that started to roll in like a damp fog.
"What do you mean?"
"Being with someone like that and have feelings for someone. They don't always happen together," she said, swallowing against the sourness in her throat. Galinda's not here. She's not here. She's not anywhere. When Elphaba opened her eyes, Glinda was sitting on her knees, studying her, in either earnestness or disbelief.
"Does my lady mean when she kissed me, she felt nothing?" Glinda asked, returning to Elphaba's title, a move, Elphaba realized, she did when she felt hurt.
"Last night...what happened..." Elphaba said, slowly, wanting to choose the right words, words that wouldn't make this muddle any worse. She looked down at the floor; a heat rose in her chest, "I should have never kissed you. Just because you serve here, doesn't mean I, or anyone else, can touch you like that."
"And if I should want it? If I should want you to touch me?" Glinda asked and bit her lip.
Elphaba swallowed.
"You can't want it," she said.
"Because of our stations?"
Elphaba shook her head and said,
"Because you don't know who you are."
"Was," Glinda corrected. "I know who I am. I know... what I want."
"And if you were married?" Elphaba asked.
Glinda's eyes rounded in surprise. Clearly she hadn't even considered it.
"What then?" Elphaba asked.
"I don't think I am married," Glinda declared.
"Why shouldn't you be?"
"No one came looking for me when you took me in," Glinda said, "If I was married, certainly my husband would have come back for me, and if he didn't, then it isn't a marriage worth remembering."
Elphaba would have been amused with Glinda's unruffled reasoning if she didn't need Glinda to cede. She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected Glinda to actually want her. Want her friendship, certainly. Willing to exchange her body for it, apparently. But wanting Elphaba to want her. Wanting Elphaba to touch her. Finding pleasure in Elphaba's pleasure. Was beyond all expectation. She couldn't allow it. She couldn't allow Glinda to fall in love with a captor. That's what she was. Imprisoning Glinda in her fantasy of revenge. And Elphaba couldn't allow herself to fall. Fall in love with a depraved princess. They couldn't be. She had to stop this, whatever it was, for both their sakes.
"Have you no self-respect? Must you make me say it?" Elphaba asked, with a raised voice, "I have no such feelings for you! You were convenient last night. That is all. Who reaches for the unrefined and coarse in the sober light of day?"
Glinda's gaze went unnaturally stiff, her eyes started to mist, her chin trembled, and then she nodded, with one clean jerk, and scurried off the bed, tumbling toward Elphaba. Her shoulder brushed against Elphaba's hip, before she caught her balance, and sped out the door. That's right. Leave, Glinda. Go. Let me be. Elphaba could hear Glinda barrel down the stairs. The front door opened and slammed. Nessa's called her. Once. Twice. Silence. It was over. This silly nothing between them. Terminated. Where was her relief? Emptiness expanded in her like incense. Out of her stomach. Through her chest. From her nostrils. She couldn't hear a sound, except her heart lubbing in her ears. Her lip quivered. A hot needling started behind her eyes. Her chest felt unbearably heavy. This was all wrong. Why did she feel worse? What had she done? Why hadn't she found another way to deny Glinda's affections? A way that didn't make her run away. What if Glinda didn't come back? Elphaba needed to find her. She needed her to know...She turned and bolted out of her door, down the stairs to find Nessa standing at the end of the stairwell, scowling.
"What's going on between you two?" she asked.
"Not now, Nessa!"
"There's something strange between you. Or, haven't you noticed the way Glinda looks at you?" she asked, stepping back toward the door to let Elphaba pass.
"Everyone stares. Or have you forgotten that I'm green?" Elphaba asked, grabbing the oil lamp from the kitchen table.
"She doesn't stare at you like that, now does she? She doesn't look at you out of terror or disgust. She looks enamored with you— beholden even. You must notice it!"
There was no use denying it and no time to explain it.
"I thought you appreciated Glinda of late," Elphaba said, lighting the lamp. She had to get Glinda. She had to apologize properly this time. No matter the consequences.
"Don't exaggerate. I tolerate her. That's different than letting her call me by my name, or wanting her in my bed!"
Elphaba straightened and looked over her shoulder at her sister. Nessa only raised an eyebrow. So her sister woke up earlier than she let on. She must have gone into her bedroom to tell her about Boq's surprise and received quite a surprise herself.
"Glinda slept there because of Avaric," Elphaba said.
"When she could have slept in the barn. And don't think I don't know what you're doing when I leave for Boq's!" Nessa said before Elphaba could mention the draft, "Pfannee's told me all about you teaching Glinda to read. What good do you think will come of that?"
"Is there something wrong with educating her?"
"Oh, please, as if that's why you do it. Don't embarrass yourself or me!"
"Embarrass you?"
"The Weavers believe you're having an affair with Avaric—"
"Avaric?! Who in Oz would want—"
"At least he's low aristocracy, but if it was rumored you were having your way with a servant—Oh, the humiliation of it!"
"How can you care what they think?" Elphaba asked, thoroughly exasperated, "We've no honor to protect anymore."
"We've only our honor! It's the only thing that separates us from the Weavers, the Gillikinese, from any of them—our virtue, a sign of our royal blood and kept pieties."
Elphaba cackled. The splendor of the Thropp family line. It never seemed so meaningless! The rituals of Unionism never so futile. The hierarchies of Oz never so arbitrary. Anachronistic Nessa. Her adages felt no better than hymns—words from which all belief had flown.
"How dare you laugh!" Nessa said, her thin eyebrows furrowing, her cheeks filling with air. "Answer me! Do you feel something for the girl?"
She did feel things. With Glinda, Elphaba felt silly, she felt pretty, she felt valuable, and, sometimes, she even felt happy. "You don't even have the decency to feel ashamed!" Nessa screeched.
Shame? What did Nessa know of shame? Each morning Elphaba waited by the window, imagining what she could have done, should have done. She found a thousand ways to save him. And confessed a thousand times she failed him. She called it upon herself. Under the weight of her deficiencies, she thought she would fade into ash. It was Glinda who breathed life into her dirt and rot. Made her useful. Kept her mind on letters, metaphors, and imagery, instead of water, sex, and shame. Reminded her of her other self, her smart self, her read self, her good self, her Colwen Ground self. Let her imagine for a moment, that that self, herself, wasn't a faded memory but a breathing possibility. And Elphaba had sent her away. Pierced her. With such horrible words.
"How could you care for her?" Nessa yelled. "You know what's she done!"
"She hasn't done anything!" Elphaba shouted.
"What?"
"She isn't Galinda!"
Nessa blinked rapidly, waving a pale hand, as if to ward off Elphaba's declaration.
"Not Galinda? Do you know how you sound? You've gone mad! You do have feelings for her!" Nessa shrieked. "How could you? How could you?!"
Elphaba pushed past Nessa, rushing out the door.
"You disgust me!" Nessa hurled in a feral hiss.
It didn't matter. Nessa's disgust. The Weavers' gossip. Her own embarrassment. None of it mattered. She needed to find her. Needed to tell her the truth. That she was anything but coarse. That Elphaba had felt something when they kissed. Had wanted to reach for her. Still wanted to reach for her. But, that no matter how they longed for each other, they couldn't act on their impulses. Not under the circumstances. It wasn't Glinda's fault. It was just the way things were. She dashed to the barn and opened the door, running through, looking in every pen, checking them twice. No Glinda. She ran out past the well, through the trees, over the small hill, the large hill, around the bog, across the meadow. But, no Glinda. Where could she have gone? Elphaba was far in the forest, her lungs burning, her legs jittery, the smell of cedar rich, the evening winds rough, the moon high. And then, she saw the wishing tree. Had she gotten turned around? She had run farther than this, hadn't she? She walked over and pulled back the curtain of branches. No Glinda here either. Just her rock. She went in and sat down to catch her breath.
"Where can she be?" she whispered.
"Not far," a voice replied and Elphaba jumped.
"Who said that?"
"Surely you remember me, my dear," the voice said and Elphaba turned around, to see a glowing hand pull back the branches. A young woman entered with black irises and translucent skin so bright it hurt to look at her. Elphaba raised a hand to shield her eyes.
"Yackle!" she said.
"It's been a while, my child."
"It's been seven months! What have you done to us?"
"I did what you asked."
"I asked for Galinda to be punished, not to live with her! And my brother, where is he?!"
The Witch clucked her tongue.
"I am a fairy godmother, not a god. There are limits to wishes, both their quantity and their form. And you didn't have to live with her."
"You mean I could have left her to die in the snow?"
Yackle only shrugged.
"Anyway, my dear poppet," she said, "You aren't the only ones I'm saving."
"Saving? How is this saving anyone?"
"Glinda's paying for her crimes. Isn't she?"
Glinda's paying for Galinda's crimes, yes, but, that's not what she wanted. Elphaba wanted Galinda to suffer for her evils, not be transformed into someone else.
"You didn't just wash her memory, did you? You made her someone different."
"Different?"
"She's nothing like Galinda."
"Whatever do you mean?" Yackle asked.
"She's... kind."
The fairy godmother smirked.
"Was Galinda never kind before?"
Elphaba snorted. Galinda was a heartless brute.
"Never?" Yackle asked once more.
Milla. Elphaba remembered. Galinda had been kind to Milla.
"Not to me," she said.
"Not even once?" Yackle asked again.
Once. Once Galinda took Sir Chuffrey's punishment for her. A slip, she had called it. An accident of morals, never to happen again.
"I assure you Elphaba, outside of her memory, I've not changed any of Galinda's other faculties."
What did that mean? In a rush, Elphaba felt Galinda whisper hotly—Dance for me. She shuddered. Was Glinda really the same as that wretch?
"Glinda is what Galinda could have been," Yackle answered her thoughts. "For it's not just she who's changed. You aren't the same to her either."
Who was she to Glinda? The Charming Protector of our Gillikinese Whore, she heard Nessa say.
"She's attracted to me," Elphaba admitted, feeling her face flush.
"And, are you?
"Me?"
"Are you attracted to her?"
"It doesn't matter. It can't happen. Not with everything that has."
She couldn't salve the wound of Galinda with Glinda. And then Elphaba realized how she could make it right, how she should make it right. The very thing she had been most afraid of. That was the sacrifice she had to make. That was the only way. With everyone she had lost, maybe she could still save Glinda, in a way.
"Take her back," Elphaba said. "Take Glinda back! I retract my wish."
Yackle sighed and said,
"I can undo Glinda if you want. But, if I do, then I must take the rest back."
"You mean Shell? I would lose that wish as well?"
"You could always wait for your brother to come back on his own, but there would be no assurance that he would."
"When will he come? Where is he?"
"I cannot say. But, know that once a wish is made, it shall be done, in full. He shall return to you in time. Have no doubt," Yackle said. "But it isn't just Shell's wish you would have to return. If you wanted to undo Glinda, you must give up those ruby red shoes."
"Nessa's slippers?"
Yackle nodded. Nessa would never forgive her. It would kill her sister to have to hide in the cabin again, without even a chair to move in.
"You can dissolve your wish at any time," the witch said, "Just put the red slippers on Glinda's feet and have her click her heels three times. I must be going now. You and her need me again."
"Glinda and I? But, I'm right here."
"You're in many places Aelphaba. This time at a place called Shiz University."
Shiz in Gillikin?
"A Munchkinland woman at a Gillikinese university?" Elphaba asked.
Yackle smiled and said as her light faded,
"Elphaba, if you want to find your Glinda, she's with the Weavers—at a place called The Philosophy Club. Goodbye for now, love."
"Wait! There's a Wizard who—"
The witch faded completely. Elphaba wasted no time. She picked up her dress and tore through the trees. She was in the treetops soon enough, being led down a treehouse corridor, by a busty Weaver with graying hair, and finally into a spacious dance hall, filled with drunk Munchkins, some half-dressed, some not dressed at all, guzzling down mugs of ale, engaging in all kinds of lewd dancing. True to Pfannee's word: Munchkin men were on one side and Munchkin women on the other. Pfannee danced with one woman with braided brown hair and bared breasts which swung to the music. The blonde Munchkin stopped when she saw Elphaba, grabbing her partner's hand, they both came over, sweaty and red-cheeked.
"I thought you weren't interested in this?" Pfannee asked, as the brunette, with an arm around the Weaver, grabbed Pfannee's chin and sloppily kissed her cheek.
"Where is she?" Elphaba asked, trying to keep her eyes in proper places.
"Who?"
"You know who!" Elphaba said.
Pfannee snickered.
"I don't have time for jokes. Tell me where she is!"
"Desperate to find her, eh, canker-blossom? Well, she isn't eager to be found. She's gone to a private room."
"A private room?" Elphaba asked, hoping private meant a secluded tea closet, away from this debauchery.
"Elphaba!"
The three women turned to see Nessarose hurrying toward them. How dare her sister question her about Glinda when this is where she spent her time!
"Coming for Boq?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.
"Well, yes, he wasn't in the sitting room where he usually is," Nessa said. "They said he came here. Although I can't understand why he would. I've never seen such filth. And what's your excuse, dear sister? Haven't found enough activities to shame yourself with?"
"I'm looking for Glinda!" Elphaba said.
"Here?" Nessa asked.
Pfannee chuckled.
"Well, you're both in luck. Glinda and Boq are together."
"What?" both sisters asked.
"Over there, in that private room in the back," Pfannee pointed to a door past the dancing women."
They both ran, but Elphaba's legs were longer and more experienced. She opened the door first, to find a large wooden table on which were four mostly empty mugs of ale. Behind it was a sofa where Glinda was on her knees over Boq's lap, her back to Elphaba. Boq's little hands were wrapped around Glinda's waist. And Glinda leaned down and kissed him. Little by little by little. They didn't stop. They didn't even hear her come in, didn't even notice anything until Nessa lunged through the door, screaming. She pulled Glinda off. The blonde fell onto her bottom. Turning around, she looked up at Elphaba with surprised glossy eyes and very red lips. She scrambled to a stand.
"Elpha—" she started when Nessa moved forward.
SLAP!
Glinda staggered backward, falling into the table, her hand coming to her cheek.
"Slut!" Nessa yelled as Glinda stood up again, "Drunk! Harlot!"
"Don't hurt her, Nessa! It's not her fault," Boq said, holding Nessa back. "Leave her alone!"
"How could you? How could you?!" her sister screamed at him.
"Glinda and I...we—we have feelings for each other," he said.
Glinda shook her head, looking toward Elphaba with panicked eyes.
"You what!" Nessa screeched.
"Let's go," Elphaba said, grabbing Glinda's arm. The blonde nodded, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Elphaba pulled her through throngs of dancing Munchkins, leaving Boq to fend off Nessa on his own.
Once back in their bedroom, Elphaba stood by the fireplace. Glinda stood near her, by their bed. Elphaba couldn't stomach this feeling. It was nauseating, possessive, and stung with shameful force. All she could see was Glinda's mouth on Boq's. His hands on her. His red cheeks and her redder lips. Is that how Galinda had kissed her brother? Glinda wasn't so different from Galinda after all. She kissed whomever she wanted. Whenever she wanted. Without a thought for anyone. How stupid she was to think that Glinda had feelings for her. How stupid she was to want to protect Glinda's feelings. What was there to protect? Elphaba meant nothing to her. Elphaba was the only one who had been convenient. Galinda had taken advantage of her. So many times.
Undress and lay on the chair.
"I'm sorry. I should have never gone to the Club. I just wanted to feel, to feel..." Glinda said, looking at the floorboards, her breath sweet with ale. "What I mean is I hadn't planned to do those things. Master Boq and I—"
At the sound of the Munchkin's name, Elphaba's hurt blew into an icy anger.
"Is this all you want?!" Elphaba asked and grabbed Glinda's shoulders. She crushed her lips against the blonde's, but Glinda's lips didn't move. Elphaba kissed her again, but Glinda didn't respond. Not like she had for Boq. Elphaba flung the woman back onto their bed and kneeled in front of her. On her back, Glinda looked at her, nervous and bewildered. Elphaba clutched Glinda's thighs so fierce Glinda yelped. She wrenched Glinda's legs open.
"Please, Elphie, stop! Don't look there. Don't. Not like this. Please, not like this," Glinda pleaded, turning her face away.
A/N: I've missed you all.
