The Signs
"Stay out of the Wind until the time is right, or you'll be blown in the wrong direction."
Wicked, pg. 197
Over the next several weeks, Elphaba steadily immersed herself in what was ultimately the beginning of her campaign to unearth the sinister details surrounding the murder of Dr. Dillamond. True to her word, every spare moment she possessed was dedicated to uncovering the source of her roommate's sadistic nightmares, and that included a very slap-dash course in the study of sorcery and magick. It was one of the few academic disciplines that had never really interested Elphaba, but she took to the work with all of the intensity of a seasoned undergraduate. There were several centuries' worth of practical theory and supposition to wade through, unfortunately, but such hindrances had never stopped her before. Like everything else in life, it was just another challenge; one that she was perfectly willing to face head on.
At first, her natural impatience with the subject matter made learning extremely difficult. She'd spend hours in the library reading and taking notes from as many as six different texts, constantly muttering curses under her breath and scaring off more than half of the students in the building. After maybe a week of this, she'd given up on trying to memorize several hundred of a thousand different curses and forced herself to start from the beginning. It was a strain on her nerves, but she endured it nonetheless. If patience wasn't her virtue, then she'd just have to learn that too.
In some ways, Elphaba found sorcery rather fascinating—for all of its failed practicality to the world at large. It was both concurrence and contradiction; an exploration of the physical and cerebral. Spells were more than just mumbled incantations in false languages; they were threads of metaphysical forces woven together to create intricate patterns in the fabric of the natural world. Bearing that in mind, however, it was impossible to change the characteristics of a spell without directly affecting every other element that bound it together.
And that, in essence, was what made her studies so frustrating. For Madame Morrible to have worked a master spell over Glinda or Ama Clutch, she would've had to combine a number of separate incantations into a single, complex curse—making it next to impossible for Elphaba to discover just how Morrible might have done it.
Thankfully, Elphaba had Glinda to help speed the learning process along; something she was infinitely grateful for. Her roommate would answer her questions as expertly as she could, doing her best to condense several months' worth of sorcery lectures into a few brief study sessions with Elphaba. When they huddled together over a book in the library, or in their rooms at night, a heavily frustrated Elphaba would barrage Glinda for clarification on every confusing subject, and Glinda would calmly explain things to her without being patronizing. It struck an even balance between them, which made studying together a rewarding experience. What Elphaba lacked in patience, Glinda made up for in sensibility.
Truthfully, it both startled and impressed Elphaba to see just how versed her roommate was on the subject, however modest Glinda was about her own proficiency. She understood the complexities—the rudiments of sorcery, even if her practical application was still developing. The girl simply had a natural talent for it, which was most likely why she was so afraid of it. In Glinda's mind, an inherent ability meant that her darkest fears could be true; that somehow, she possessed powers so hideously great and terrible, she had no way of controlling them. It was the reason why Elphaba kept her studies of the darker, more sinister incantations separate from her work with Glinda. Her roommate was still trying to overcome her guilt, and Elphaba was still trying to reassure her.
The rest of the time, what little there was of it, they devoted to each other. Glinda was thoroughly attached to Elphaba, and Elphaba was violently protective of her. Their mutual fears had bonded them in a way that neither time nor social considerations would have been capable of doing. In only a few short months, they had gone from being adversaries to allies to something even greater. Shiz had been a never-ending series of firsts for Elphaba, and Glinda was practically at the heart of every one of them.
They had taken to sharing a bed together since the night of Glinda's attack, which obviously had introduced a new level of intimacy to their friendship. Whatever doubts Elphaba had initially harbored over the arrangement were soon forgotten, however, when she finally had the satisfaction of seeing her friend sleep peacefully through the night. Fragments of dreams would occasionally linger, disturbing Glinda in the soundless hours of the evening, but Elphaba was always there to hold and calm her, and the last lingering hours till dawn would be spent in fearless, dreamless slumber. It was a comforting feeling to wake in the morning and find Glinda still asleep, devoid of the haunted look that had plagued her features for so long. If Elphaba were being honest with herself, there was also something strangely wonderful about falling asleep wrapped around her companion, listening to the soft sounds of Glinda's steady breathing against her neck. For someone who had avoided physical contact for most of her life, it was remarkable how easily she had become accustomed to it. With Glinda lying so trustingly in her arms, Elphaba could believe that she was capable of saving her—regardless of whether or not that was even true.
Unfortunately, Madame Morrible was only a small part of the opposition that Elphaba faced. Her sister hadn't missed the fact that Elphaba was sequestering herself in the library more often than usual, or that Glinda had suddenly become a permanent fixture in her daily routine. For someone like Nessarose, who was normally suspicious about everything by nature, it was only a matter of time before she started questioning Elphaba on "what precisely" was going on. Elphaba did her best to side-step her sister's casual inquiries at first, but Nessa was equally if not more stubborn than she was. So, after first discussing the matter with Glinda, she resolved to inform Nessarose of their current predicament without going into too much detail on the particulars.
They were sitting together in Elphaba's room, as both had recently finished the last of their morning classes. Elphaba had suggested to Nanny earlier that morning that she might like to take a few hours to head into town for a little shopping, leaving her to watch over Nessa in the interim. Nanny squawked and fussed about it for ten minutes or so before finally consenting, and the girls were left to their own devices. Elphaba wasted no time in imparting all of the details of their situation to her sister, though she was very selective about the information she shared. Nessa listened to her narrative without interruption, though she made no effort to hide the look of skepticism on her face.
"You're suggesting that Glinda is being physically harmed by her nightmares?" said Nessa lightly, propped up on the chaise lounge beside the fireplace. She was wearing her new bejeweled shoes that Frex had sent to her, and they complimented her natural beauty exquisitely.
"I'm not sure what they are," Elphaba replied, planting both hands behind her on her bed. "I don't even know if these violent apparitions of hers are psychologically suggested or capable of physical transformation. What I do know is that they tend to prey on her while she's either fully or partially unconscious, though she has encountered them during her waking hours as well."
"And these demonic creatures she sees are—"
"Terrifying," said Elphaba, purposefully being non-specific. "The substance of what nightmares are usually made of, only worse."
Nessa pursed her lips together as if contemplating her words, though she never took her gaze off of Elphaba. "So you believe her?"
"Of course I believe her. What's not to believe? Haven't I explained everything to you perfectly? This is the work of a cunning and proficient hand; willfully designed to confuse and disconcert. There are far too many subtle coincidences for us to ignore, my dear, and as many mitigating circumstances. From the little I've studied of sorcery thus far, it is possible to fashion corporeal beings from non-matter, however complicated it would be to do so. Sadly, there's only so much one can learn from practical sorcery texts found on campus. If I'm really going to learn anything, I imagine I'll have to take another trip to the bookshops in town."
A brief moment of silence passed between the two of them, as it appeared that Nessarose didn't have an immediate response. Elphaba knew that the information was going to be a bit startling at first, but she was a little surprised to see Nessa so reluctant to believe it. Hadn't her sister been preaching for years now that sorcery was only three steps away from devil-worship? Yet there she sat, hesitant and unmoving. It was as if Elphaba had tried to convince her that she was the Unnamed God in disguise.
"You're being serious, aren't you?" said Nessa, still regarding her sister strangely.
"Perfectly," said Elphaba, pushing off of her bed and moving over to the bookcase. "Why would I joke about something so hideous? Our friend has unwittingly become the victim of a sinister plot that is threatening to take her life as well as her sanity, to say nothing of Ama Clutch. I can guarantee you that the Headmistress of this university is behind it all, and that includes the murder of Doctor Dillamond. I may not know what part was hers to play just yet, but I fully intend on discovering what it was."
"By devoting all of your time to studying sorcery?"
"Know thine enemy, my dear. We can't stop Morrible if we don't know her game, and we can't treat these symptoms without knowing the disease."
Nessa closed her eyes and sighed deeply, praying for strength or patience—or perhaps a combination of both. "Forgive me, Elphaba, but I can't say that I approve of the way you're handling this situation. For one thing, you're taking this all on yourself without consulting anyone who could offer you more expert advice or experience. Supposing Glinda were telling you the truth, or that your theory is correct—do you honestly think you're capable of stopping a woman as powerful as Madame Morrible with a novice's understanding of sorcery?"
"Is that doubt clouding your voice, my dearest?" said Elphaba, taking a book off of the shelf. "And here I thought you believed in miracles."
"Very funny," said Nessa with a leer. "But inappropriate as usual. Say what you will, Elphaba, but I'm not a fool. There's no perfect formula or magical equation to all of this slight of hand—this devil's work. Even if you did know how Morrible managed to do it, you lack the power or the training to perform any kind of a counter-spell yourself. Choosing to fight evil with evil is one thing, but you're not playing a fair game. Going up against the Headmistress like this is foolhardy; it would be like a lamb to the slaughter."
"You're forgetting who you're talking to," said Elphaba coolly. "I haven't come this far in life by cowering in the face of opposition. You're acting as if I'm blindly walking head-first into battle without knowing or respecting the strength of my opponent, and that's where you're wrong. Morrible has no reason to fear me at all, and I am extraordinarily terrified of what she is capable of. The advantage, therefore, is mine. While I am anticipating her every move, she will constantly underestimate me."
Elphaba picked her satchel up off the floor and began stuffing it with books from her bookshelf, vaguely aware that Nessa was still scrutinizing her. She didn't think the conversation was going very well, but there was an unexpected impression of mistrust from Nessarose that made Elphaba question just how wise she'd been in telling her sister anything in the first place.
"May I remind you," said Nessa slowly, "that you're basing your conjectures on a raving madwoman in a hospital bed and a young girl prone to hysterics?"
"Careful, Nessarose," Elphaba replied. "You're making insinuations about my roommate that I don't especially care for. I've already told you that I adamantly believed her, so that should be enough to satisfy whatever doubts you're harboring. And if you don't believe me, then believe her. There are enough bruises on her body to prove it."
Neither girl spoke for several minutes while Elphaba continued packing her bag and Nessa continued to watch her. Once finished with her books, Elphaba briefly made note of the time, which was already half-past twelve. She was going to be late meeting Glinda.
"You're not telling me everything," said Nessa quietly, finally breaking the silence.
"I'm not telling you everything," Elphaba responded, tightening the straps on her satchel. "And my reasons are two-fold. One, the less you know, the less you'll be held accountable for should Morrible discover our plans, and two, Glinda asked for my discretion on certain matters, and I promised her that I wouldn't say a word about them to anyone."
"I didn't realize that I was anyone," said Nessa sullenly.
"Oh please don't be cross, Nessarose. Don't ruin my fear of death and dismemberment with resentment, now, will you?"
The joke was not taken well. Her sister didn't appreciate having her words thrown back in her face like that, and she favored Elphaba was her angriest, most unintentionally stunning look of pure venom. "Have you made it your goal in life to upset and infuriate me as much as humanly possible?"
"I believe it's listed somewhere under frantically working to stop a vile murderess from killing again while surviving university long enough to tour the Northern Bears. Really, dearest, I've told you all I can. The rest you'll just have to take on faith, which I know you're very good at."
Nessa was about to respond when Nanny came barging into the room, carrying several parcels in her arms as well as the remains of a half-eaten basket of nectarines.
"Sakes alive!" she cried while dropping all of her parcels onto Glinda's bed. "Do you know how much this mess cost me? Those thieving scoundrels were charging triple the cost of camel yarn! Triple! Give me the penny stalls back in Quadling Country, because I've had it up to here with all of these up-market Gillikenese sewing shops!"
"Oh wonderful, you're back," said Elphaba as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Forgive me for not staying to ogle your purchases, Nanny, but I have to dash. Nessa hasn't had any lunch yet, so you may want to take her to the dining hall when you get this all unpacked."
"And just where are you going?" said Nessa crossly. "I thought you were supposed to be joining us?"
"Not today, I can't," she said in apology. "I'm studying with Glinda again this afternoon, so I'll most likely catch you later tonight; possibly after dinner."
"Oh bless it, have you both been quarrelling again?" said Nanny disapprovingly. "What is it this time? A hair brooch? Those sparkly shoes of Nessie's?"
"Nothing at all, Nanny," said Elphaba flatly. "Or nothing that a little soup won't fix. Do lock the door on your way out, and try not to get any of those nectarines on Glinda's bed."
Elphaba hurried out of the door and into the hall without further comment, side-stepping a few passing Munchkin girls that were headed in the opposite direction. If she hadn't left in such a rush, she might have paid more consideration to Nessa's look of calculating suspicion. Particularly when her sister finally noticed that only one of their beds appeared to have been slept in.
Glinda was standing in a small alcove near the main student lounge, located on the western side of the Crage Hall building. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon with minimal activity going on, but she still kept to the shadows and tried to keep as far out of sight as possible. The occasional student would pass through the doors, sometimes laughing with a group of friends or hurrying to get to their next class. Luckily for Glinda, the hallway was mostly deserted, and she was allowed to keep to herself.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly half-past twelve.
Elphaba was already late.
Glinda worried her thumbnail between her teeth and tried to convince herself that the clock was probably just five or ten minutes fast. The knitted grey scarf she'd worn that day was beginning to irritate her throat; however loosely she'd tied it. There were still visible traces of scars along her neck, even though the wounds themselves had healed over a week ago. She credited it to Elphaba's careful and consistent application of her healing ointments, as well as several nights of decent rest. Hiding the scars was still a bit of a problem, unfortunately, but Glinda had disturbingly become rather adept at it. She began to fidget with the material in her increasing anxiousness, and risked a glance up at the clock again.
Nanny was probably just late getting back from town. Surely that was the cause for Elphaba's tardiness. There was no reason for Glinda to worry— no reason at all. Sadly, there was a wealth of difference between telling herself that and actually believing it.
Elphaba had arranged an afternoon with her sister to inform Nessarose of the present dangers they were facing—something that Glinda was still a little uncertain about. When Elphaba had broached the subject with her the night before in their washroom (for Glinda was incapable of bathing alone anymore), she was hesitant to even consider it. However much she trusted Nessarose to keep her silence, she still feared what the girl would think of her, given that Elphaba's sister had such clearly defined opinions on goodness and evil. No matter what Elphaba said to her, Glinda still wasn't wholly convinced that she was blameless in all of this, or that her earlier fears were without merit. After so many years spent trying to suppress her guilt, she could hardly expect to wake up one morning and be free of it.
She wasn't even sure that she wanted to be.
A door opened and closed beside her, where another student had passed through. Glinda let out a nervous sigh and checked the time once more, mentally berating herself as she did so. Giving in to her silly fears like this was useless. She trusted Elphaba, she knew that she did, so what else really mattered?
"Glinda…"
The faint whisper of her name startled Glinda from her thoughts. She quickly turned and looked behind her, expecting to find her roommate standing there. It was something of a shock, then, to find the hallway still deserted and the space beside her unoccupied. Glinda frowned slightly as she glanced in the opposite direction, wondering if she'd mistaken where it had come from. The name was spoken in a low and breathy tone, but the voice was unmistakably Elphaba's.
"Elphie?" Glinda called.
Only silence greeted her. She stepped cautiously out of the alcove, listening intently in case she'd misheard.
"Glinda…"
There. The voice was coming from around the corner. Glinda slowly began walking towards it, and the sound of her footsteps echoed loudly across the narrow corridor. She was confused as to why she was supposed to be chasing her roommate around the building, but followed Elphaba regardless. Her companion was fond of stealth and secrecy, but this was getting ridiculous.
"Glinda…" whispered the voice again, around a different corner.
"Elphaba Thropp, I am not in the mood for this," Glinda huffed as she hastened to follow her companion's lead into the adjoining hallway. But when she rounded the second corner, Glinda stopped dead in her tracks. She'd finally reached a dead end, and Elphaba was nowhere to be found.
"Elphie?" she called to her roommate again, turning in every direction. How odd. She was certain that this was where the voice had come from. Where on earth was her roommate?
Glinda turned to head back into the previous corridor, when she noticed a small, inconsequential door on one side of the hallway. It was possibly a faculty entrance that led to other parts of the building, or perhaps some sort of janitorial closet. She stepped uncertainly towards the entrance, wondering what had possessed her roommate to lead her here, of all places. She reached for the doorknob with mild uncertainty, and suddenly felt a chill run up her spine.
"Here…"
Glinda hesitated. She studied the door intently for a moment, not quite sure if she trusted what she was hearing. No… This wasn't some dead woman haunting her in the middle of the night, nor was it Temen's innocent laugh that was typically a prelude to violence. Glinda was standing in the hallway in full custody of her senses, listening to a voice that she knew almost as well as her own. Cautiously, she turned the handle and slowly opened the door. A cold, unlit passage was waiting for her.
"Elphie?" she said in a small voice. "Are you here?"
"Here…" came the voice again, further into the darkness.
Glinda took a deep breath and placed a hand to her breast. There was a gas-jet fixed to the wall beside her, and she lit it with trembling fingers. The light illuminated a short, wooden staircase that led down into what appeared to be an old storage cellar. It couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen feet deep, with very little space allotted between floor and ceiling. Glinda slowly descended the stairs, and was careful to keep her skirts above the dirt. There was a bitter kind of smell that lingered in the air, possibly emanating from the crates and boxes stacked on both sides of the room. It looked as though they hadn't been touched in years, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust coating each of them. No marks or labels were visible on anything, making it impossible to distinguish their purpose. She guessed this was just another forgotten storeroom, humming under the sounds of the nearby furnaces.
"Elphaba?" she called a final time.
Faint whispers beckoned her forward, calling her further in. The space was narrow, and a little too claustrophobic for Glinda, though she willingly continued to move forward. A warning sounded in the back of her mind, but something compelled her to ignore it. She knew that she should have been afraid. She knew that there was something sinister about all of this. Even if it was Elphaba's voice that was calling to her, it was evident that Glinda was the only living creature in this room. But the quiet sounds of inviting reassurance had placed her in a peculiar trance, summoning her further and further into the darkness.
Finally, she found herself at the end of the cellar, staring up at the rough stone wall that callously closed her in. The voice had disappeared somewhere behind it—or beyond it; swallowed up under chilled, blue stone. Her hands traveled along the wall in careful study, as if Glinda were blindly committing its form to memory. The hum of the furnaces in the nearby room caused the stones to vibrate beneath her hand, matching the rhythm of her blood pulsing just beneath her fingertips. It was as if the room was a living thing, and she had trapped herself in its womb; caressing the cold and delicate membrane with a curiously morbid fascination.
And then there was the voice, speaking to her—waiting for her— somewhere on the other side of the wall.
"The faces you see…"
"Memories and matter…"
"But before you burn…"
"Rise to the tower…"
"Can you hear me?"
"Buried beneath flame…"
"It doesn't hurt me…"
"It is only death."
Glinda started to shiver. This was wrong. All of this was wrong. What was she doing here? Why had she come alone? Elphaba. She had come to find Elphaba. And… something more.
"Pain..."
"The Forsaken…"
"A Still Beating Heart…"
"Truth…" it whispered.
"I'm here to find it," she replied.
The sound of her own voice snapped her out of the trance and brought Glinda crashing back to her senses. She pulled her hands away from the wall, as if it were on fire, and quickly began backing away while never letting it out of her sight.
Her heel finally struck against the staircase, marking the end of her path. Glinda turned and fled up the stairs, forgetting to extinguish the gas-light on her way out.
She ran up and into the hallway, quickly looking over her shoulder as if she'd expected the voice to follow. But when Glinda rounded the first corner, she failed to see the taller figure heading towards her until they eventually collided.
Glinda stumbled back against the wall, reaching out to prevent herself from losing her balance completely. When she looked up, her racing heart froze beneath her breast at the sight of Madame Morrible towering over her like a huge, predatory beast.
"Oh Madame," Glinda stammered, her back pressed against the wall behind her. "Forgive me, forgive me… I didn't see you there—"
"Are we lost, Miss Glinda?" said Morrible neatly, arching a thinly painted eyebrow in question.
"No… I mean yes... Yes! I was just… looking for my roommate, and I've gotten myself lost."
Madame Morrible slightly tilted her head, letting a dreadful amount of silence pass between them. "Seems a bit far out of the way of the common rooms," she said in her smooth, oiled voice. "Much further, in fact."
"We were supposed to meet near the lounge," said Glinda pathetically. Her pulse was racing, but she did everything in her power to appear calm
"Were you indeed?" Morrible grinned with a mouthful of yellow teeth. She took a menacing step forward, closing the space between them. "That's a very… pretty… excuse, Miss Glinda. Very pretty indeed. But I suspect— and you'll forgive me for saying this— that I sincerely doubt that you're telling me the truth. In fact, I think that you're lying…"
Glinda's chest was heaving now, but she kept her chin pointed high. "Do you?" she whispered, refusing to break eye-contact.
"Oh! Muriel!" called a voice nearby, and both women turned to see Miss Greyling heading down the hall. "Thank goodness you're here. I was just about to head over to the Main Hall. And Miss Glinda! How lovely to see you again. I hope I'm not interrupting you both?"
A silent prayer of thanks to every deity she could think of went out in Glinda's heart as Miss Greyling swiftly approached them. Madame Morrible glared at her like a hawk who had just been denied its dinner, but Glinda had never been so thrilled to see her sorcery professor in her life. The woman's timing was simply impeccable.
"Celvia," said Morrible with a sneer. "What little crisis are you in now?"
Miss Greyling was completely oblivious to Morrible's anger, and placed a hand on her arm. "I've recently spoken with Professor Hain, and…oh! Would you excuse us for a moment, Glinda dear? This is boring faculty business, and probably best left to ourselves."
"Of course," said Glinda, a bit too quickly. "Thank you, Madame Morrible… Miss Greyling. Good afternoon to you both."
She tried not to run as she hurried back to the main lounge area, never once stopping to look behind her. Once she turned into the last hallway, she immediately spotted Elphaba pacing near the alcove, and quickly dashed over to meet her.
"There you are!" cried Elphaba in a fit. "I was beginning to think that you'd left me for the dining hall. What—"
"Have you been here long?" said Glinda frantically, grasping Elphaba's arm. "Were you waiting for me elsewhere?"
Elphaba stared at her friend with a puzzled expression. "I've only been here for a few minutes. Nanny was late getting back. Good gracious, Glinda, you're as white as a sheet! What's happened to you?"
"I heard you," said Glinda quickly, and she pressed Elphaba further into the alcove. "I heard a voice calling my name that sounded exactly like you. It led me down this hallway and into an old storage room, somewhere near the furnaces. I searched for you there, but no one was in the room. That's when I started to worry that something had lured me there for a sinister purpose."
"You heard my voice?" said Elphaba, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes, it was you… but that wasn't the worst of it," said Glinda with a shudder. "The minute I fled back out into the hallway, I ran head-first into Madame Morrible, and Elphie… I swear that she—"
"Morrible?" Elphaba hissed, grasping Glinda's arms. "She was waiting there for you?"
"I've only just escaped her," said Glinda, trembling. "I don't know what she was doing there. But if Miss Greyling hadn't interrupted us…"
"Wait," said Elphaba sharply, looking just to her left where a small group of students were gathering. She motioned for Glinda to be silent and took her hand, guiding her up a nearby staircase to one of the upper-level floors. Upon reaching a quieter hallway, Elphaba began searching for an empty room and found one adjacent to the lavatories. She opened the door and pulled Glinda inside, where midday sunlight was streaming in through the windows. She closed the door behind her and drew Glinda as far away from it as possible, lest anyone had followed them there and thought to eavesdrop from the hall.
"Now," she said, taking Glinda's hands again, "tell me everything from the beginning. You're positive it was my voice that you heard in the room?"
"Very distinctly," said Glinda. "It's why I never questioned it. I assumed you wanted to meet with me in a more private location, possibly because you had some great secret to impart. When I found myself in the cellar and discovered you weren't there, it was clear that something was wrong, and that I had been led there under false pretense. But when Morrible showed up…" Glinda shook her head.
"What was her demeanor? Did she seem pleased to find you there?"
"She seemed—" Glinda paused, trying to remember specific details of the encounter that'd she'd forgotten in all of her terror. "She seemed mistrusting of me somehow. Not exactly shocked to find me there, but… suspicious of the reasons I gave her. I told her that I'd been looking for you, and she didn't believe a word of it. She expected something more from me; a confession, I suppose. I was literally trapped between her and the wall. It was absolutely terrifying."
Elphaba's eyes narrowed. "Did she touch you?"
Glinda was a little startled by the question. "I think she meant to intimidate me, but no, I was never physically harmed."
"Right," said Elphaba determinedly. "That's it. You are hereby forbidden from going anywhere inside or outside of this building without informing me of your whereabouts or requesting my permission to do so. All areas around Crage Hall, and consequently every other inch of this campus, are strictly off-limits unless you are accompanied by me or someone that I approve of."
"But—"
"No. You are forbidden to talk to anyone without telling me first. You are forbidden to see anyone without telling me first. Your silly little trips to the dress shops in town will be put on hold until I deem it's safe enough to travel there, and you will only be allowed to go if you are accompanied by at least three or four different escorts. And so help me, Glinda, if you even think of disobeying me, I will personally drag you to the campus stables and tie you up with the cows before—what?"
Glinda was desperately trying to suppress a grin, however miserably she was failing. "Tibbett was right," she said with a smirk. "You are a bit of a romantic, aren't you?"
The comment appeared to catch Elphaba off guard, which pleased Glinda immensely. Her roommate raised an eyebrow to convey her usual annoyance, even if she couldn't stop the barest hint of a smile from touching the corner of her lips.
"I'm a little bit of everything," said Elphaba frankly. "Especially when it comes to you."
It was Glinda's turn to be taken aback, and unlike Elphaba, her blush was probably more apparent. She studied her friend's face with quiet and overwhelming affection, marveling at the way the sunlight played so stunningly over her green skin. Glinda lowered her eyes to their hands clasped together, suddenly too shy to meet Elphaba's gaze.
The burns on Elphaba's palms had formed into raised scars, crisscrossing along her hands and up a few of her fingers. It was doubtful that they would ever heal completely; something Glinda considered with a heavy pang of guilt. But in a way, the scars meant everything to her, as they were physical proof of Elphaba's unwavering devotion. If ever she doubted her roommate's sincerity, or questioned how far she was willing to carry on with this madness, all Glinda needed to do was feel the scars in these slim green hands and remember that Elphaba had risked everything to save her. Even a room full of water.
She slid her arms around Elphaba and held her in a firm embrace; resting her head against a bony shoulder and drinking in everything that was her roommate. Elphaba held her just as tightly, a sensation that Glinda could never get enough of. Here, with her friend's arms around her and their hearts beating in unison, Glinda could believe anything. She could hope that there were better days ahead of them. She could believe that Elphaba would find a way to stop these horrors that were threatening them both.
"Will you always be there to save me, Elphaba?" she whispered into her sleeve.
"Always," Elphaba replied, and Glinda could believe it, even if there had been something like doubt lingering at the back of Elphaba's voice.