Disclaimer: "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" and "Out of Oz" are owned by G. Maguire.

A/N: This story was inspired by "Disremembering Your Name" from winter156.

Soulmate

Oz was a strange, wide land full of magic. The high wild grasses of the vast steppes in the West whispered words as hikers crossed them. They told of the wild Animals that once inhabited the land and named it their own before the humans came with their Wizard.

The mountains of the North towered over the land like peaks, dangerously sparkling. Deep within, they held unimaginable treasures of gold and gems that promised wealth. The snow that covered them was as pure as the dress of Ozma, whose purity and goodness revived the ancient legends.

The stifling marshes and moors of the South, with their foul odors, reminded people of the cauldron of the Kumbric Witch brewing her potions while talking to her Animals. Her words were always poisonous; she was the embodied evil, the shadow that Ozma cast.

Year after year, the stalks of grain in the East bowed in the warm summer breeze, telling of the time when the Clock of the Time Dragon went round, revealing truths to the Munchkins that would have been better left hidden.

A time when a little green girl was born. Her father was the unionist priest Frexspar, the Divine, and her mother, Melena, heir to Munchkinland.

While Frexspar spent his days and nights turning the Munchkins into God-fearing unionists, Melena turned to milk flowers and alcohol. On a hot summer day, her little daughter Elphaba sat on her lap pointing to a mark on her shoulder which was usually covered with cloth. Pale green fingers brushed the tangled lines carefully before the girl asked, "Mama, what's that?"

With glassy eyes, intoxicated by various herbs, Melena sighed, "Elphaba, my little beetle, do not always be so curious!" The woman stroked erratically over the signs and said, "Many of us are born with a sign, like a tattoo. Those who do not wear it at birth will get it during their childhood. Everyone has such a sign when they are ten years old."

That answer was enough for the girl. She jumped from her mother's lap and ran out into the garden to play. Melena straightened her dress so that the lines were covered again. No one noticed how they changed when a stranger named Turtle Heart entered the ground on which they lived.

xxx

The day Elphaba turned eleven, she rose before dawn to look at herself in the mirror by the light of a candle. Her eyes flew over the green skin and sharp edges of her body, but she could not find anything. She searched for a sign, a name, but found nothing.

With tears in her eyes she turned to Nanny and whispered, "Where is my sign? Don't I need someone else to have a soul?"

But it was Frexspar who answered his daughter's question with cold eyes. "That's right," he said. "Those without a soul don't need anyone at their side. Being alone is your destiny."

Unconsciously, he stroked his arm, which bore his wife's name. He had never spoken to his children about how the lines on Melena's shoulder had changed with the arrival of Turtle Heart, for he had loved him as much as she had.

At the age of eleven, Elphaba realized that she had not received a soul from the creator – the Nameless God? – and would therefore never find her soulmate. The cruelty of the world showed itself in her green skin which stuck to her without blemish, but also without a name.

xxx

Elphaba packed her few clothes into a suitcase. Tomorrow she would leave Nest Hardings and travel to Shiz to study at university. The thought of the time-honored buildings, the books, and the thirst for knowledge of the young adults made her heart beat faster. For years she had dreamed of leaving Munchkinland and discovering Oz, of learning. She wanted to escape the fanatical clutches of her strict father who forced her to sing in his sermons and who idolized her sister.

Nessarose had already received her mark in infancy. On her ankle stood Boq. The three letters had just appeared, simple and dark on the light skin. Nessa liked to cover the signs with her stockings, for she had decided to dedicate her life to the Nameless God and theological studies instead of tying herself to a man. In her rigid, confined world, she did not notice the dark gaze of her older sister, envious and contemptuous of the mark.

But, on this evening, Elphaba could let go of her gloomy thoughts and rejoice. Tomorrow, she was on her way to an exciting and promising place, even though her father only allowed it for her to keep caring for Nessarose. It did not matter, she was free. She could start a new life in a new place.

When she packed the last of her dreary clothes and bent over her bed to close the suitcase, she felt a heat on her ribs that she had never felt before. Involuntarily she put her hand on the spot while she supported herself on the bed with the other hand, panting. She had never felt anything like it before. It was not a real pain, but rather a tingling, a pulsing.

Her joyful heart seemed to overflow as she realized what this meant. She rushed to the mirror and hastily took of her clothes. With her eyes closed, she stood before her reflection, which she always avoided. She did not dare to look. She knew she was green and many people felt repelled by it. She also knew that her body did not bear any mark, any name.

Slowly she opened her dark eyes and looked at her chest. Under her left breast it seemd to glow.

Her mark, at last.

In dark writing, purple, almost black, there was a name. Glinda.

Elphaba could not avert her gaze. Tears of relief, tears of joy shot into her eyes. They let the name blur, but it had already been burned into the memory of the green girl. Carefully she dried her eyes, which threatened to overflow. Perhaps she had a soul after all?

With trembling fingers, she stroked the writing. Glinda, her soulmate. She loved her already. But how would she find this girl? Would she meet her at the university? Would she like her? Her skin was green, her hair pitch black. She was smart, but also impertinent. She did not know how to apologize, how to compliment someone. She had never learned how to fit in because she was always an outsider. How could she ever appeal to anyone?

The joy she felt seemed to slowly disappear from her bones. What if she never found her Glinda? Being alone is your destiny.

xxx

Galinda of the Arduennas of the Uplands. A Gillikinese with flaxen hair and a simple silver collar with mettanite struts. The director of the college had accidentally put Elphaba in a room with one of these rich brats.

When their eyes met for the first time, the green girl felt like all the air was knocked out of her and she could not tear her gaze away. The writing on her ribs had warmed up, but that could not be. The girl's name was not Glinda, but Galinda. She even corrected Dr. Dillamond, a Goat who taught history and who apparently had difficulties pronouncing the name of the Miss properly. "Ga-linda, with a Ga!" the girl corrected. Elphaba's blood boiled over to see how this brat was talking to such a smart Animal, but presumably the Gillikinese did not know any better.

Nevertheless, the letters on Elphaba's skin pulsated whenever their eyes met. Those blue, clear eyes seemed to magically attract her.

But this plunged her into deep confusion. At first, she had hoped to find a name on her skin by the age of eleven at the latest, but nothing happened. Her father had persuaded her that she did not possess a soul and would therefore never find her soulmate. The day before she went to university, a name had appeared, which Elphaba had never thought possible. She had long ago made peace with her skin color and her loneliness, but fate seemed to have planned otherwise.

Now she was here, living in a room with a stuck-up Gillikinese who made life difficult for her, and yet her gaze kept catching on the blonde and she wondered inwardly whether Galinda was perhaps her Glinda? Wouldn't that mean that there was a name somewhere on the other's body, right? Elphaba perhaps?

But it was impossible to ask Galinda about it. The blonde would probably have laughed and humiliated her for this absurd question. Instead, she would run to her so-called friends and tell them everything, and Elphaba would once again be the laughing stock of the class.

Besides, the girls never undressed in front of each other. Elphaba assumed that it was only in Galinda's interest that she did not see her green skin more than necessary. The name under her breast was to remain her secret, of which not even her sister knew anything.

xxx

One Saturday night Elphaba and Galinda were alone in their room, because the blonde had a quarrel with her friends and retired early. She pretended to have a headache.

Elphaba was bent over a book of "Speeches of the early Unionist Fathers" when Galinda engaged her in conversation. The blonde had even smiled back shyly when the green one said that she would like the phrase Miss Elphaba, the Delirious.

For this is how she often felt in the presence of her roommate, without being able to make sense of it. But before she could say something clumsy, the window sprang open and Galinda had to close it with a strap, while Elphaba kept as far away from the window and the rain as possible. In this chaos, several of the Gillikinese's hatboxes fell to the ground. All kinds of unusual hats fell out, which Elphaba wanted clean up as quickly as possible. Unexpectedly Galinda asked her to try one of the hats. It was flat, had orange garlands, and a yellow lace net to cover the face.

"I don't wear pretty things!" Elphaba objected.

But Galinda was relentless, and so the feminine hat landed on Elphaba's pointed head. Hesitantly and somewhat breathless, she glanced out from under the brim to Galinda. There it was again, the burning on her ribs, that feeling of being pulled in a direction she could not explain. She wanted to touch Galinda, put a hat on her too, and look at her. She wanted to watch her, to study her, and talk about things that were important to her. The complicated ones, because she knew that Galinda was neither dense nor careless. The blonde had good comprehension which belied her young age.

Her frantic thoughts vanished when Galinda said, "You terrible mean thing, you're pretty!" Completely taken by surprise, Elphaba replied that Galinda should not lie. She advised her to visit a unionist minister for confession. She saw that she pushed away her roommate with her words, even though they were closer than ever. But she could not handle the burning, could not place it.

There were no books on soulmates. Elphaba had searched every corner of the university library for it. Had her mother only told her a fairy tale? But the name was clearly visible on her green skin. And her mother had had it, as had her father and sister. There must be some truth behind it, but how should she find it?

xxx

Elphaba was to receive the answer only after Dr. Dillamond had died under mysterious circumstances. As a sign of her condolences, and as a late apology for her initial brusqueness towards the professor, Galinda now called herself Glinda.

Elphaba felt like she was drowning. She was breathing, but no oxygen seemed to reach her lungs. Her hands trembled, her heart raced, and the writing on her ribs seemed to hum as she realized that her soulmate was standing right in front of her.

Glinda, with those bright, blond curls, with those delicate hands, that slender waist.

Glinda, with the big, curious eyes, the sharp mind she liked to hide.

Glinda, with her secret love for architecture and her magical talent, which did not seem to have fully manifested yet.

Glinda.

It was written on Elphaba's green skin. This could not be, though. Her soulmate was a girl whom she despised with all her heart just a few months ago. The two of them had been hesitant to trust each other, for they were as different as Ozma and the Kumbric Witch. They were like day and night, fire and water. Green, angular, tall, captious. Small, blind, petite, superficial. Elphaba had felt the urge that drew her to Glinda, but she refused to believe it. Now it could not be denied, not after her roommate had changed her name to what was forever written on her very skin.

Completely shaken, Elphaba fled to the bathroom and stared at her bare torso. Every thought of Glinda tormented her mind as she desperately tried to erase the letters from her body. Nothing succeeded, and when she left the bathroom much later, the sight of a sleeping Glinda warmed the wound the green had inflicted on herself.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Elphaba to ignore the attraction she was feeling for Glinda. That is why she visited the blonde in the summer, although it had been an embarrassing trap from the others. She did not mind, because the days without Glinda were long and lonely.

When Glinda threatened to faint one day, Elphaba reacted quickly and caught her. The blonde's name was throbbing so hard on her chest that the green one almost passed out when she felt a shiver fly through the petite body laying in her arms. She slipped out, "Come on, Glinda – you've got better brains – come on! I love you too much, snap out of it, you idiot!" Glinda came to her senses and said with a smirk, "Well, really ... no need to be so romantic about it!"

It was immediately clear to Elphaba that the lines on her body had no counterpart, that Glinda had no name on her skin - or at least not hers. She wanted to cry, run away, disappear, but Nessa was with them and they were on their way to meet with the others of the Charmed Circle. She swallowed the rising panic, took Glinda by the hand, and walked on. Being alone is your destiny.

That night, the friends wanted to go to the Philosophy Club to distract themselves from the murder of Dr. Dillamond, but Elphaba had other plans. The passing of the professor had opened her eyes to who was behind the reprisals of the Animals – the Wizard.

She hissed at Glinda, "Tonight, you little idiot, we have no time to waste on sex!" When the blonde wanted to join the rest of the group, Elphaba said, "My dear, you and I are going back to Crage Hall tonight only to pack a valise. Then we're away."

xxx

The journey to the Emerald City was long and arduous, as the two students could not afford the luxury of traveling in their own carriage. They spent the nights in shabby quarters before they set off again the next morning. Often there was only a single bed, and the two students would cuddle up together to give each other comfort and warmth. Dainty hands sought support on green shoulders as the excitement rolled over her. Green fingers crept around the linen, but Elphaba never allowed Glinda to lift her nightgown and kiss her. Never would the blonde see the name that burned pleasantly in the frenzy of the night. Elphaba was sure Glinda only clung to her because they were alone together. Because she was scared. Just because she had a name did not mean that her counterpart lived, bore her name, and found her. She enjoyed being close to her friend, but she also loathed it because the kisses were addictive. She could imagine for a few hours that her name was somewhere on the pale skin if Glinda allowed her to touch her. Wishing only wounds the heart.

Thus, the inevitable happened - Elphaba bid farewell to her soulmate. They had met the Wonderful Wizard and he was a charlatan. He had declared the Animals to be an enemy of the Ozians in order to distract from the political turmoil, to stir up and incite the people. To fight the Wizard, she made the hardest decision of her life. She let Glinda go. She snuggled her face close to Glinda's and kissed her: "Hold out, if you can," she murmured, and kissed her again. "Hold out, my sweet."

Being alone is your destiny.

xxx

Years went by in a steady stream. Politics were made, the powerful came and went. The miscreants were eliminated just to make way for new villains. The Witch of the East was killed by a house, while the Wicked Witch of the West was killed by a bucket of water.

Lady Glinda had married, but her marriage to Lord Chuffrey of Mockbeggar Hall had remained childless. She spent many years as a widow under house arrest before waiting in Southstairs in a cell for her conviction. When she was incarcerated, her expensive clothes were taken from her. Her fortune, her house, and her dignity, too. Her curls, now grayed, were cut and she wore only a simple linen dress. This revealed a secret that lay hidden in her heart for years. Under the hairline there was a name in small letters. Many Ozians would not even know who it was, because the person had many names throughout her life.

The Wicked Witch of the West.

Fae.

Fabala.

… Elphaba.

In her cell, Glinda woke with a start. She had dreamed of green skin, of dark lips that that she had kissed all those years ago and then sent her away. She had been afraid. The pressure of her parents, the pressure of society, was too much. She had never said anything to her soulmate.

Light flickered in front of her cell. Her glasses had broken a year ago. She didn't need them anymore, not really. She knew who was turning the door handle of her cell. She called her name sleepily, and added, "You wicked thing. You've taken your own sweet time, of course -"

A warm feeling spread over her neck.

Elphaba.

The End.