A/N: Oh my goodness, 100 reviews. You guys are amazing. Thank you.

Glinda was near tears by the time Elphaba came into the room.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and she had put off this paper for an entire weekend. She was buried in open books and pages of notes. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, but strands were falling in her face, adding on to her rapidly growing frustration. She exhaled heavily, squeezing her pencil so hard her hand shook. Nothing she wrote made sense. She understood the concept, and what she wanted to say in the paper, but she couldn't put any of it into words. She couldn't get it from her head to the parchment and it frustrated her to no end.

Her roommate stepped into the room with a cheery, "Hello, Glinda."

The blonde bit back a growl. Elphaba's every movement—her bag hitting the ground, pulling her books out and setting them on the desk, the springs of her bed as she sat down—grated on her ears. Elphaba, of course, had finished this paper on Friday. Elphaba knew how to put this into words. Elphaba could curl up with a book and not have a care in the world.

Glinda grit her teeth and looked back at her paper. Behind her, she could hear the rustle of pages as Elphaba read. She sucked in a trembling breath. Focus.

The significance of the speeches of early unionist fathers…impacted Ozian literature…politics or religion…

Glinda groaned and slammed her pencil down. "I can't do it!"

The green girl looked shocked. "Can't do what?"

"This stupid paper!"

Elphaba stood up. "Hey, it's okay. Just—"

"Shut up, Elphie! It is not okay!" Glinda buried her face in her hands. "I need to raise my grade in literature, and if I don't do well on this paper…but how do you put things into words?! What am I supposed to say about these speeches? All of these thoughts are swirling through my head and I don't know how to say them!"

The green girl walked over and put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Okay, first: take a deep breath." She waited until Glinda raised her head and obeyed. "Good. Now, look at me. What are you writing about?"

"You know what I'm writing about," the blonde snapped, exasperated. "It's the literature paper. You finished it just a couple days ago."

"No, I mean, what are you trying to say?" She grabbed Glinda's hands and looked at her patiently. "Tell me."

Glinda looked back at her paper, but Elphaba shook her head and tugged her wrists gently, drawing her attention away from the desk. "Glinda, look at me. Just talk to me."

The blonde took a deep breath. "These early unionist preachers. They wrote down their speeches and distributed them throughout Oz, and as a result we have a record of some of the teachings from back then."

Elphaba nodded encouragingly, squeezing the blonde's hands gently. "Go on."

"Well, these speeches were among the first religious teachings to be recorded, and it spurred a movement of religious texts. But then, how can one differentiate between religious texts and regular legends?" Glinda's eyes unfocused as she grew more confident, and her thoughts started coming faster. "What was real and what was fiction? What if something was written as a joke and published as a fact? The speculation that followed led to controversy over figures such as the Kumbric Witch—another religion, or just a children's story?

"And the other question that must be addressed is how the speeches were distributed. Because obviously it took time and money to copy and distribute them. So were they sold to the people? Because that would be business, which is commonly seen as a corruption in the unionist religion. And if they did sell them, did they take into account the difference between royals and commoners? If not, and the speeches were only available to the wealthy, then that's even more corruption, and the entire thing reeks more of politics than religion."

Glinda paused, looking up to see Elphaba beaming—beaming at her. Her eyes were glowing, flecks of gold and hazel shining against the warm, chocolate color. "Brilliant. Why Miss Glinda, I believe you have a paper."

The tension left Glinda's shoulders, and she smiled shakily. She pulled a hand away and wiped at her eyes. "How do you do it, Elphie? Everyone else looks at me and only sees some dumb blonde."

But the green girl simply shrugged and reached up to brush a stray tear from Glinda's cheek. "Their loss."

Dear Elphaba,

I must admit, I am greatly surprised by your letter, for more reasons than one. It seems you've managed to find a friend or two. Even Grandfather seemed to be impressed when I mentioned the name Upland. I suppose it's good that you and Miss Glinda are getting along well—we wouldn't want the Thropp name to be spoken bitterly among the wealthy elite of Frottica and the Gillikin.

But more pressing is your sudden impulse to stay at school over break. Really, Elphaba? You'd shut yourself away in an empty campus for an entire month? Wait—don't bother answering that. I suppose it's not completely surprising. However, Father is upset by your response. He hasn't told Grandfather, and hopefully he won't have to find out about your discourteous reply to his offer. Father has ordered you to come home. Besides, you know you can still do your work at the Colwen Grounds.

"Of course I can," Elphaba muttered, "Right after I care for you all day and do every little thing Father asks of me. I'm sure that'll leave me with hours to spare."

"Elphie?"

The green girl turned to see her roommate sitting up in bed. "Sorry, Glinda. Go back to sleep."

Glinda looked at the light beginning to peek through their window. "It's okay. I wanted to get up early, anyway." She hopped out of bed and scurried over to her wardrobe. After digging through it for a moment, she snatched an outfit and ducked into the bathroom. Elphaba rolled her eyes with a smile and turned back to the letter on her desk.

There is another reason why you must come home, but I can't discuss it over a letter. Father has ordered me not to mention it completely, but I thought you deserved a heads up. Don't worry, it's nothing bad. In fact, I think you'll like this turn of events.

If you would kindly reply with the day you can move out, then Grandfather can hire the carriage to pick you up.

Your sister,

Nessa

Well, there it was. Once again, her desires were scoffed at, shoved to the side, in order to please her Father and Nessa. Agitated, she pulled her hair loose and started braiding it again, letting the familiar twisting motions soothe her. She could outright defy her father and just stay at the university, but she knew she wouldn't. He would stop paying for her tuition, and then she wouldn't be attending Shiz at all.

And what was this surprise they had? Despite Nessa's attempts, she was still worried. If it was important enough to defy their father, then it must have been a big deal.

Glinda stepped out of the bathroom to see Elphaba leaning into her desk, fingers running anxiously through long ebony hair. "Elphie, is everything alright?"

The green girl looked up, a forced casual reply already on her lips, but she froze at the sight of her roommate. Glinda was wearing a royal blue dress, strapless and plain except for a black satin tie that went around her waist. A white lace cardigan was draped delicately across her shoulders and back, and her golden hair was curled and twisted into an elegant bun. She moved to her dresser and pulled out a pair of black, strappy heels.

Elphaba swallowed. "What's the occasion?"

The blonde grinned, her entire face lighting up. "I get to turn in that literature paper today. I figured that deserved some celebration, don't you think?" Before Elphaba could respond, her face grew serious again. "But you're avoiding the question. What's wrong?"

She folded up the letter. "Nothing. Just…plans for Lurlinemas break."

Something in her voice made Glinda pause. "You wanted to stay here, right? Read a lot, do some research, probably move completely into the library while we're gone."

Green lips twitched. "Yeah. That was the plan."

"What changed?"

"It's just my father. And my sister. They want me home."

Glinda couldn't fathom not wanting to go home for break—a month without homework, without responsibility, doing nothing but spending time with her friends, her parents, and her Ama—but she refrained from saying so. Elphaba's home was different.

"There's no way you can stay here?"

"Not if they don't want me to…" Elphaba shook her head. "You should probably get to class. Wouldn't want to be late for turning in that paper."

The blonde nodded, blinking distractedly. She didn't think it was possible to override Elphaba's will. The stubborn green thing took orders from no one, not caring a bit about anyone's expectations. How was it that her family could just say the word and she lost all resolution?

"Are you sure?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Everything's fine, Glinda. Just go, don't worry about it."

"O-okay. If you say so, Elphie." She grabbed her coat and bag and opened the door. "See you later!" she called, her giddy mood returning as she all but skipped out of the room.

"Alright class, have a good week. And don't forget to put your papers on my desk before you leave."

There was a groan and shuffle as the students pushed back their seats and rushed to get out of the classroom first. Glinda took her time, straightening her books in her bag and waiting for the crowd to thin. When it did, she placed her essay neatly on the professor's desk with a proud smile. She had done it. It was over.

Glinda was beaming as she strolled out of the building. Not even the chill of the winter day could ruin her mood, and she basked in the bright sunlight as she neared the canal. She was careful to stay on the sidewalk; it had snowed last week, and the ground near the river was still muddy and covered in slush. The blonde wrinkled her nose slightly and kept walking.

"Well if it isn't Miss Galinda."

Glinda closed her eyes at the sound of Pfannee's voice. She looked up again to see a group of students gathered on the sidewalk ahead of her, sneering.

"If you must insult me, Miss Pfannee, I insist that you at least use my proper name."

"It could be worse," Avaric said with a leer. "What about bitch? Or slut?"

Glinda crossed her arms over her chest. "The only sluts around here are the girls that hang all over you." She noted, with an odd mix of guilt and satisfaction, that Pfannee's cheeks had turned bright red.

"You're acting more like the green freak every day," Milla said. "You can't just talk to us like that."

"Leave me alone and I won't have to," Glinda replied smoothly. She tried to step past the group, but Pfannee's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Not so fast, Galinda."

Elphaba groaned and crumbled up her third attempt at a friendly letter. It shouldn't have been that difficult to write down a polite greeting and the date for the carriage, but somehow it was. She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to go back to the role of caretaker, nothing more.

She didn't want to leave Glinda.

She pushed that thought away before she could really think about what it meant. She obviously wasn't going to write this letter at the moment, and sitting here wasn't doing her any good. Elphaba stood up, stretched, and decided to go to the café for a sandwich or an apple or something. She pulled on her worn coat and thick boots—remembering with a scowl that the ground was still muddy from last week's snow—and headed out of Crage Hall.

Rough hands grabbed her shoulders from behind her, yanking off her coat.

Glinda whirled around to glare at Avaric, ignoring the cold that bit suddenly at her arms. "Give that back!"

"Hand made in the Pertha Hills?" Milla said, grabbing the tag and reading. "Must be expensive."

"Oops." Avaric tossed the coat off the concrete and into the mud with a smirk. "Hope it wasn't that expensive."

Glinda clenched her fists and glared. She stepped forward, reaching for the coat, but Pfannee gripped her elbow, hard, and pushed her back.

"Leave me alone," the blonde all but growled.

"Why? You've chosen social exile with the green bean, and now you have to pay the price." Pfannee twisted her fingers into the lace cardigan and tugged, ripping the fabric.

Glinda spun out of her grip. "I haven't done anything to you! Leave me alone!"

But Milla came up behind her and pulled the cardigan clean off. She tossed it to Shenshen, who hesitated only for a second before tearing the garment in two and throwing it in the mud.

"Stop it!" Glinda cried, lunging for her clothes once more, but Avaric's arm around her waist pulled her back. Pfannee reached for the black sash around her dress, but Glinda swung wildly. There was a sharp smack as her palm connected with Pfannee's face.

Time stood still. Avaric's grip left her, and Pfannee stumbled back, touching the quickly forming red mark on her cheek. Milla and Shenshen stood off to the side, eyes wide and hands cupped over their mouths. Out of the corner of her eye, Glinda thought she saw a familiar figure approaching the canal.

"Bitch!" Pfannee screeched, jumping at Glinda. Her fingers dug into Glinda's dress and hair, tearing at everything she could reach. The blonde stumbled back, trying to force Pfannee off of her. "You want your coat back?" Pfannee snarled. "Fine!" She shoved Glinda to the ground, causing the blonde to land in the muck.

Glinda froze, feeling the slime seeping through her clothes and across her bare limbs, but that didn't stop them. With a terrible, delighted laugh, Avaric dug his foot into the mud and kicked it at her. Glinda flinched away as the girls cheered him on, spurring another round of filth.

"Hey!"

Glinda was covered in mud, her clothes were ruined, her hair had been tugged out of place, and tears were starting to spill down her cheeks. But at the sound of that voice, her heart soared.

"Well if it isn't the green—"

"Pfannee, for once in your Oz-damned life, shut up." Elphaba stepped into view, dark eyes blazing so bright they were almost gold. Everything about her was fierce, from the set of her jaw to the crackling energy around her.

"How dare you?" Milla demanded. "You can't talk to us like that!"

"Too late," Elphaba said shortly. She pushed through the group and walked toward Glinda.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you," Shenshen said with a glare.

"Quite the contrary," the green girl replied. "You mess with Glinda, you mess with me. Now clear out before I really get angry."

"What could you possibly do?" Avaric smirked. "You're surrounded by water, my dear Miss Elphaba. We have the upper hand." With that, he scooped up a handful of mud and threw it at her.

But Elphaba was ready. She raised her hand and—with a burst of energy so intense that Glinda could almost see the air rippling—shot the slime back at him.

"What the—"

Elphaba swung her arm again, sending a wave of slush at the girls. "Get out of here. Now."

Somehow, even above their shouts and squeals of horror, they heard her and fled. Elphaba immediately knelt next to Glinda.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly. Every last trace of anger had vanished, leaving only comfort and concern. She reached up and wiped some mud from the blonde's cheek.

Ever so gently, she pulled them both to their feet. Glinda stepped away from her. "Don't—you'll burn."

"Not much," Elphaba responded, taking off her coat and wrapping it around the shivering blonde. She picked up Glinda's ruined clothes and draped them over one arm, pulling the blonde close with the other. "Come on. Let's get you back to the room."

Fifteen minutes later, Glinda was washed up and in fresh clothes, wrapped in her blanket and cradling a steaming mug of tea. She watched through the doorway to the bathroom as Elphaba hung up the dirty clothes. Maybe she'd be able to fix them, like she did Elphaba's frock.

Which reminded her.

"Elphie?"

"Yeah?"

"You did magic."

The green girl paused, staring down at the counter. "Yeah."

"Was it…did you mean to?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "It just sort of…happened. That's how it always is."

"Wait, so every time you used magic here in the room…?" Glinda's voice was soft.

"An accident." Elphaba moved back into the room and curled up in the corner of her bed. "I was just born with it. It came with the skin, I suppose." She laughed shortly. "That's part of why my father…" She trailed off, shaking her head again.

"He doesn't like your magic?" Glinda asked, bewildered.

"He's a minister, a unionist. Both he and my sister say magic is the practice of evil."

Glinda remembered, vaguely, rumors at the beginning of the year about Elphaba's younger sister. "Would you tell me about them?"

Elphaba looked surprised. "You want to know about my family?"

"Well…" Glinda hugged her tea closer. "The only things I've heard about them came from gossip and rumors. I'd like to know what they're really like. And, more importantly, why you're so reluctant to go home to them."

The green girl sighed, looking away.

"Elphie, you know I wouldn't tell anyone. I'm just honestly curious. And…I want you to know that you can tell me this—you can tell me anything."

Elphaba rested her chin on her knees. "I know. I'm just…not used to that, I suppose." She bit her lip uncertainly. "What do you want to know?"

"What's your sister like?"

"Normal colored."

Glinda rolled her eyes. "That's not what I was asking."

Another sigh. "I know. She's…strict. Stubborn, although I suppose she gets that from me. She's a devout unionist, like our father. She fancies herself to be important and holy, but I think part of it's to make up for her legs. She was born disabled, you see. She can't walk—she's been in a wheelchair all her life."

"Why?"

Elphaba shifted uncomfortably, curling up even tighter—if that was possible. "Because of me."

"She was born disabled because of you? That doesn't even make sense."

Elphaba rubbed her forehead angrily, but her voice sounded weary. "When my mother got pregnant again, they were worried that the baby would be…like me. So they went to all these doctors, tried every treatment that was offered—everything from drinking potions and chewing milkflowers to prayer circles and other intense religious rites. But none of it worked. Her pregnancy was terrible, and when it finally came time for Nessarose to be born…"

"She came out crippled." Glinda stared in horror at her roommate, who sat avoiding her gaze.

"And it killed my mother. Father has never forgiven me, and neither has Nessa. Nor should they."

"But that…that's not your fault."

"Why did you ask about this?" Elphaba asked suddenly, her voice sharp. "Why does it matter to you all of a sudden?"

Glinda shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I'm worried—and before you get mad at me, that doesn't mean I think you're weak or incapable. It just means I don't want you to go somewhere—I don't know, harmful?—over Lurlinemas break."

Elphaba's face softened, but she spoke carefully, guarding her thoughts. "It's not as bad as it sounds," she said slowly.

The blonde set her tea down and walked over to Elphie's bed, keeping her blanket hugged close. "So they're unionists…but you're interested in history and sciences. How does that work?"

At this the green girl smirked. "It starts quite a few arguments, actually. I don't believe in God, Unnamed or otherwise. And even if one existed, it wouldn't for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how can someone without a soul have a god?" She said it so casually, Glinda had to take a moment to recover.

"You—you don't think you have a soul?"

"Glinda, I'm green. I have magic powers that I have no control over, I killed my mother and crippled my sister, I—"

"Elphaba, how old were you when Nessarose was born?"

The green girl paused. "Two…maybe three?"

"You were barely old enough to talk! How can your father possibly say that it was your fault?!"

Elphaba shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Besides," she said quickly, trying to change the subject, "This winter might be different, since we'll be staying with my grandfather at the Colwen Grounds."

Glinda fell silent, thinking. She knew about the Colwen Grounds and the Eminent Thropp, of course, but Elphaba had never mentioned her family line. "Why don't you ever talk about being a Thropp?"

"What do you mean?"

The blonde pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "You're, what? The Third Thropp Descending? And if your mother died…doesn't that make you next in line after your grandfather dies?"

"Yes, so hopefully he doesn't die anytime soon," the green girl said with a scowl.

"You don't want to rule Munchkinland?"

"Do you really think anyone would accept me as their leader?"

Glinda was quiet for a moment. "What's your grandfather like?"

"Who knows? I've never met him."

"Oh."

Elphaba shifted, moving to get up from the bed. "Well, if you're done interrogating me about my life now, I—"

Glinda reached for her hand and gripped it tight, cutting her off. "Elphie."

"What?" She avoided Glinda's eyes, too afraid of what she might see in them.

And Glinda, who was thinking of a thousand things to say to Elphaba—words of comfort, apologies for how she used to make fun of her family life, more questions about her childhood—could only settle on one thing. "I…never thanked you. For earlier."

Elphaba rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. "Yeah, well. Any excuse to throw mud at those idiots."

The blonde smiled gently and let go of her hand. "Thank you, Elphie." The green girl blushed deeply.