A/N: Here's the next chapter of Elphaba and Galinda's search for a way back to each other. I'll need another chapter or so to finish, and please be warned of this chapter's dark themes.
Elphaba awoke. Pain seeped into her like water penetrating parched ground. Grunting, she opened her eyes. The sunlight pricked. She rubbed her eyes and noticed she lay in a high bed with tall wooden posts and a teal velvet canopy above. Her head and shoulders were propped up by lush pillows. She lay under a thick duvet, sheets of velvet and richly colored brocade. The Princess sat beside her bed in a wooden armchair with a columnar carved back. Galinda's body was bent at the waist, her head laying on her folded arms that rested atop Elphaba's bed.
Galinda had seemingly watched over Elphaba while she slept and had fallen asleep herself. The sun shone from a window behind Galinda, casting a soft glow across the room and lighting up Galinda's hair, threading it with sunlight. The smooth skin of her exposed back. Her perfectly rounded shoulders in her sleeveless shift. By Oz—Galinda was beautiful! Elphaba's chest heated like a furnace. She reached out to touch the woman when reality trickled through.
Why was the Princess in her room? And what was Elphaba wearing—a patterned high-necked smock? She didn't own anything like this. Elphaba glanced around again. She wasn't in a servant's room. These sheets. The colored tapestries and rugs. The elaborate vanity at the other corner of the room. Galinda was not in her servant's quarters; she was in a royal suite!
The realization made her start. A servant asleep in a royal guest suite?! Surely, Madame Morrible would beat her to death. Elphaba sat up as quickly and as quietly as she could, feeling every tender spot and clenching her jaw at the wracking pain. Why was she so sore? Suddenly, in her mind's eye, she saw Shell. Stabbing her sister. Her breath caught. Nessy was gone. Dead. Elphaba's body leadened. Shell and Nessa kept her a prisoner. Galinda rescued her. Elphaba stopped Shell from stabbing Galinda. But not before he stripped her, tied her to the table, and repeated their night from long ago with malicious ferocity.
How had they escaped? Was Elphaba dreaming? She looked down at her wrists. They looked real. Adorned with scares from being bound by ropes for months. She unbuttoned her smock. Her fingers explored her chest and felt stitches. Despite the gentleness of her touch, her wound erupted in a jaw-gritting sting. She hissed through her teeth in pain.
Galinda's eyes fluttered. Elphaba hastily re-buttoned her shift and plunged her arms under the covers before Galinda sat up.
"You're awake. Oh, thanks be to the Unnamed God!" Galinda said, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. Her eyes revealed a wide smile of relief.
Elphaba's skin tingled under Galinda's gentle gaze and the realization that Galinda likely clothed her as she had done in the cabin yesterday. Wishing her cheeks would cool, Elphaba asked,
"Is Your Royal Highness unharmed? Shell didn't hurt Your Royal Highness last night?"
Galinda shook her head, her hand and gaze falling into her lap.
"I went to free you, but in the end, you saved me."
But Elphaba hadn't saved Galinda. She made Galinda's salvation necessary. Elphaba's wishes and actions risked Galinda's life. First, the Sheriff. Then, Liir. Then, the near murder of Galinda's father. Then, last night Shell used Elphaba as bait to capture Galinda and almost murdered her and Milla. The old Galinda would have felt a well of enmity toward Elphaba—not gratitude.
"Your Royal High—"
"Galinda—please, when we're alone," Galinda requested.
"Galinda," Elphaba said, her stomach knotting at the new permission. "How did we—"
Knock! Knack!
"Just a moment!" Galinda shouted toward the door and looked back at Elphaba. "That must be Milla. She'll sit with you this morning while I have my royal lessons and meet with my advisers. I'll be back this evening. Let Milla know what you need. You are welcome to anything in the castle that's mine to give," Galinda said as if she were speaking to a royal guest, not her Munchkinlander servant.
Galinda walked to the door and opened it.
"Good morning, Milla."
Milla strode in with a silver tray, ignoring Galinda. She looked ahead and sat swiftly in the chair Galinda had occupied a moment before. Milla set her tray on the bedside table. It carried spiced ointments and a vase of milk. Galinda must have told her what Elphaba needed.
"Thank you for staying with Elphaba," Galinda said hesitantly.
Milla's gaze was married to Elphaba's bedsheets. Galinda gave Elphaba a weak smile before bowing her head, stepping out, and closing the door.
"You're angry with the Princess?" Elphaba asked.
Milla sighed through her nose.
"How can you forgive her? What your brother said in the cabin—he's surely a demon for what he's done to you, but if what he said was true, then so is Galinda!" Milla said.
Galinda's confession. More memories drifted in. Elphaba had expected Galinda to deny their past before Milla and Boq. She braced for it. For who would have the courage to admit those acts in front of anyone, especially one's family? How Elphaba still underestimated this new Galinda.
"Was," Elphaba corrected. "Galinda is different—as distinct as a caterpillar is from a butterfly. Her confession last night marks her transition."
Milla refused to be consoled.
"When you first returned to the castle, you left her room and cried in the hallway! She still hurts you."
"Her Royal Highness was cruel when I first returned, but I didn't cry because Galinda still tormented me. I cried because the memories of our past were too severe to bear. But enshrining Galinda as the worst version of herself does no one any good. She is no longer that woman. She hasn't been that woman for a long time."
"But what if it's an act? I believed her honorable. Yet, she lied to me. Perhaps she's still lying."
Elphaba heard Milla's fear. Galinda's confession last night revealed Milla could be tricked. Milla lost the Galinda she thought she knew, and, even worse, she lost herself. A self that knew the difference between good and evil. No easy words could restore Milla's trust in herself. She would have to establish that again.
"There is much you do not know of the Princess."
Milla's eyes widened as if Elphaba were about to expose more horrors.
"Many good things," Elphaba assured her, "and many difficulties that Galinda endured while she was away. Maybe one day she will tell you."
"She hasn't even apologized. She refused to recant her feelings for you."
Elphaba had almost forgotten about Gillikin's deep-seated prejudices.
"I would have followed her to the ends of Oz."
Galinda described Glinda's feelings, not Galinda's. When Elphaba was ordered by the King to return to the castle, Galinda merely tolerated her. From their first carriage ride, when Galinda couldn't even look at her, to their last farewell, when Galinda tried to send her away as Fiyero's mistress. Nothing communicated love. Had it? But why did Galinda risk her life more than once? First, in the dining hall, when she spoke back to Fiyero, then to save Elphaba from Shell. How could anyone do that for a burden? And Milla made it sound as if Galinda's love was Glinda's love undiminished.
"With your gentle nature, you went along with Galinda's demands, didn't you?" Milla continued, "You don't have to anymore. I won't let her harm you."
"Galinda doesn't harm me. I fell in love with the Princess of my own accord," Elphaba said, determined to disabuse Milla of her misconception. "I've long found the Princess outwardly beautiful, and in the cabin, she was a very different person than she was here."
"But how can you love her? You're both women!" Milla argued.
"In Munchkinland, romantic love is free. No one is forced to confine their love to someone outside of their own sex. Only in Gillikin is love unnaturally restrained."
"But you can never have children with her!"
"Motherhood never appealed," Elphaba said.
"Gillikin will never allow it!" Milla said.
Milla sat staunchly in her position, and Elphaba could not refute her. Gillikinese law forbade women to marry each other. Even if Elphaba wasn't a woman, a Gillikinese princess could not marry her servant. Elphaba looked in the distance, a soreness rising in her limbs. So much had happened since Munchkinland fell, and yet, despite sitting in a royal Gillikinese bed, she was still powerless.
…
Before Galinda headed to her royal advisors, she checked another guest room. Pfannee lay on the bed, and Shenshen sat beside her. The Munchkin woman's wounds were severe. The royal physician who examined Elphaba and Pfannee said both women had been violated, were severely dehydrated, and appeared to be suffering from a prolonged lack of sunlight. Pfannee had been beaten on multiple occasions, as she wore fresh bruises and ones in all stages of healing.
No one knew how Pfannee escaped. She hadn't stirred since they found her alone on the horse. Milla had slept beside her during the night, and Shenshen watched over her after dressing Milla.
"How is our guest?" Galinda asked Shenshen.
"She's not moved since I came in, Your Royal Highness."
"If she wakes, find me right away."
"Yes, Your Royal Highness."
…
Milla gave Elphaba ointment and oil to tend to her wounds behind a wooden screen. As Elphaba wiped at the memories Shell had given her, warm tears fell. She lost both siblings, Nessa, in death and Shell, by treachery. The pain felt overwhelming. She choked on her tears, muffling them into her arm, and felt grateful Milla couldn't see her wilt to the floor. Rising shakily to a stand she wiped the corners of her eyes and finished cleaning herself.
When she emerged, Milla and she talked about Munchkin arts and dances, the royal gardens of Gillikin, shared feast day celebrations, and other light conversations. Their dialogue skirted surfaces like a frog jumping from lily pad to lily pad, never veering into the horrible depths that made their moment possible.
After the sun drew high, Milla rang for a servant. Not long after, Sammi, a young woman whom Elphaba met in the kitchens while serving as Galinda's handmaiden, arrived. Sammi's blue eyes widened when she saw Elphaba in the royal suite.
"Something the matter?" Milla asked.
"Isn't that Elphaba, Galinda's old handmaiden?"
"It is," Milla answered.
"Why is she upstairs?"
"Why is that any business of yours?"
"Forgive me, my lady!" Sammi said, recovering from her surprise and bowing her head.
"I'll expect you to show Elphaba the same respect as you have for any royal guest. Now, go and bring us some vegetable soup and rice."
"Yes, my lady," the girl said and went to fetch Elphaba's lunch.
Once Sammi left, Milla asked,
"Do you think she'll tell?"
"The news of my presence will reach the kitchen before she will."
Milla's shoulders slumped.
"Why didn't Galinda leave me in the servants' quarters?"
"She said it was too drafty with no proper light. She was afraid you wouldn't heal properly—and…" How did Galinda know what the servants' quarters looked like? "I don't think Galinda intends to welcome you back as her servant."
…
At the end of the day, Galinda discussed her last meeting with Tibbett in the Orange Parlor.
"Stubborn mules!" Tibbett shouted.
"I suppose it's to be expected. Many of the royal advisors have family in Paltos, and I, too, wish to avoid a civil war. But peace must not come for Gillikin by signing Paltos's prejudices into law."
"Or by your marriage!" Tibbett shouted. "Sir Chuffrey refuses to negotiate with you as the Queen. How dare he demand you return the laws against Munchkinlanders and your hand in marriage. The gall! If the advisors don't take what Boq witnessed in the forest seriously, Runcible won't have the necessary military in place to defend ourselves."
Galinda rubbed her temples. The gravity of the situation gave her a headache.
"We'll need to send out scouts and emissaries."
"But without their approval—" Tibbett started.
"We'll solicit and train our own scouts and emissaries. We'll speak with every lord to see where our alliances lie. We'll send an emissary to the Munchkins and see how many will join our cause. Next time we bring this matter before the council, we'll have evidence and signed declarations of support. The advisors who aim to defy us will not be going up against a mere woman. They'll be taking on an entire kingdom."
"Shrewd," Tibbett said.
"I trust you approve?"
"Completely. Leave finding the new scouts and emissaries to me. But, Galinda—"
"Hm?"
"If this doesn't work, what will you do?"
She didn't have an answer. If she couldn't persuade the court, marrying Sir Chuffrey might be the only way to prevent a war…to protect Elphaba...to protect Liir. If it came to that, Galinda would only marry Sir Chuffrey on the condition that Munchkinlanders be given the same rights and protections as the Gillikinese.
Still. To be that man's wife—a man whom she detested, who harmed her love in the most obscene ways—she felt her breath mildewing in her throat and changed the subject.
"We're not there yet."
"But—"
"Will you check on Boq before you retire for the evening?"
Tibbett sighed.
"I shall."
"How was he this morning?" she asked.
"A bit fidgety. Perhaps unaccustomed to speaking with Gillikinese royalty?"
"You did swear to subject him to things worse than death if I didn't return."
"But he did return you, without a scratch, and managed to convert Munchkins to our cause. I may have misjudged him."
"'May'?"
"Fine, fine—I did."
"I trust you will let Boq know," Galinda said, wondering how her friend was faring. When they reached the castle on their horses last night, Boq asked if he could stay on as a delegate to the Weavers until Elphaba and Pfannee regained their strength. Galinda had agreed and assigned Tibbett to him. What did Boq make of everything? After her confession, did he hate her as much as Milla did?
"When I visit him, I'll apologize," Tibbett acquiesced.
Galinda took her leave for the evening and stopped by the great baths. She pocketed a couple of small vials of oils and made her way to the library. Her fingers grazed the spines of the books until they stopped at one red one—a book of fairy tales. The next volume in the series of fairy tales that Elphaba had often read in the cabin. Smiling, she picked it up and made her way up toward the guest suites. Thinking of Elphaba, her pace naturally quickened. She stopped herself several times to refrain from sprinting through the corridors.
Finally arriving at Elphaba's door, Galinda heard a murmur of voices. Milla was still there. Might her cousin's disgust toward her abated?
Galinda opened the door to see Elphaba propped up in bed and Milla sitting in the same chair from this morning. Their conversation came to a halt, the silence falling on Galinda like a blow.
"Good evening," Galinda said, trying to maintain her smile.
Milla said nothing, still enraptured with Elphaba's bedsheets.
"Good evening, Princess," Elphaba said, her voice warm.
"I'll come back tomorrow, Elphaba," Milla said and rose. She walked toward the door, squeezing past Galinda, her shoulders rounding inward to avoid touching her as she passed. Acute was the shame Galinda felt as she shut the door behind her. She wasn't worthy of forgiveness. Why did she keep thinking she was? She should be grateful Milla didn't report her. Exhaling, she turned toward Elphaba.
"She's surprised," Elphaba said, "With time, she'll accept the truth of who you have become."
'As Shell did?' Galinda thought.
Elphaba winced, and Galinda covered her mouth with her hand. She had spoken aloud!
"Forgive me," Elphaba said, "I've no right to speak of your family when I'm incapable of judging my own."
Galinda shook her head and said,
"Milla's reaction is understandable." How was Galinda still so small, so entitled, so greedy to want absolution? All day, she anticipated spending the evening with Elphaba. Between meetings, she rehearsed her apology for her plan with Fiyero. She imagined reading to Elphaba until the woman fell asleep. How silly of Galinda to think she could slip back into any sort of pleasantries with Elphaba. That a few heartfelt words would procure her a different destiny than the one she sowed for herself.
"I'm sorry—I-I should leave," Galinda said.
Since she ran away from the cabin, she often dreamed of Elphaba. Mostly images of Elphaba disappearing, walking away, leaving her behind. But other dreams were of a more disturbing nature. She touched Elphaba, undressed her, watched a nervous anticipation build in her brown eyes. And then there were those dreams, full of wicked depravity. She doused Elphaba in water. Tied her to the bed. Ogled her. Licked her to satisfaction. Against her will. Galinda would awake sticky and disgusted.
In her waking life, Galinda's yearning seared. A heat she did her upmost to suppress, but it was becoming harder since Boq attested to Elphaba's feelings. Elphaba had loved Glinda, really loved her. And Elphaba's words in the cabin yesternight. It sounded as if Elphaba thought Galinda worthy of mercy. Galinda's longing grew formidable. But mercy didn't mean love. Elphaba was barely conscious in the cabin, and her declaration of love was past tense. It was a slip of the tongue that she mentioned her full name to Shell. Wasn't it?
Despite Galinda's vigilance, her mind kept looking for signs of Elphaba's affection, kept imagining means to entice it. How else could she explain why she selected the red book of erotic fairy tales from the library? Utterly inappropriate. She would hide it under her bed. Even if Elphaba allowed clemency, even if mercy could transform into affection, the Princess had no standing to love Elphaba in return. Not when the old Galinda lived inside her and not when their love was forbidden in Gillikin.
"Stay…" Elphaba said.
Galinda froze, her back to the Munchkinlander, her hand on the doorknob, her heart pittering in her chest. All she had to do was open the door, but the earnestness in Elphaba's plea held her fast.
"Or if you prefer it— I will leave. Surely, I have inconvenienced you long enough," Elphaba said.
Galinda whipped around.
"You are not an inconvenience!"
Is that what Elphaba thought? That she was the hardship? Of course. She still assumed Galinda intended to consign her to Fiyero, as his mistress. Galinda hadn't wanted Elphaba gone; she wanted her safe. From her father. From Gillikin. From herself. It was Galinda who didn't know how to be near Elphaba, not properly. Accepting Elphaba's kindness seemed shameless after all she had done. Especially when it was unclear if she could ever overcome her proclivities. Galinda wanted to reveal her hand, to let go of things unsaid, but she was still too nervous of overstepping this newfound warmth, too uncertain of which feelings Elphaba would welcome, and all too aware that her desire for Elphaba had once been barbarous and entirely one-sided. And yet she couldn't stop from blurting,
"I didn't know Fiyero was married!"
Galinda wished she could descend into the floor. The words sounded so much more reassuring in her rehearsals, not like they did now—like an excuse.
Elphaba raised an eyebrow. Galinda's cheeks prickled with heat. Finally, with deliberate slowness, Elphaba asked,
"If the Prince hadn't been married, would my leaving with him have been fine?"
Her question made it seem like the problem wasn't how Galinda intended to send her away but that Galinda intended to send her away at all. Did Elphaba actually want Galinda to want her? A wave of hope swelled. Refrain! Suppress! Desist! But how could she? How could she withhold her feelings when Elphaba looked at her like that, her eyes locked onto her lips?
"Nothing would have hurt me more than to see you leave with Fiyero—" Galinda confessed, watching a flush fill Elphaba's cheekbones, "nothing except for your death. When I made my request to Fiyero, it was because I couldn't bear any harm to come to you and because I believed you would prefer… Fiyero's company to mine."
…
Galinda's near declaration of love disarmed Elphaba. Galinda paused for her response. How did she feel about Galinda? Memories of Galinda flashed. Galinda cradling Liir. Galinda defending her in the dining hall. Galinda criticizing the Gillikinese war. Galinda rescuing her from the cabin. Galinda confessing her crimes in front of Milla. Three feelings arose in equal measure—admiration, attraction, and love—but Elphaba struggled to put these sentiments into words. She wasn't Galinda's equal, not in the castle. And before today, she assumed she was a terrible weight around Galinda's neck. She hadn't even considered that Galinda might have forgiven her for her wishes. Could Galinda really love her? First, surprise born of joy. Then, a shyness bred of self-doubt.
"Forgive me for babbling," Galinda said, clearly misinterpreting her silence, "I'm tired. I shouldn't have come—"
No! She couldn't let Galinda rescind her admission.
"Tiredness has not dimmed your beauty!" Elphaba uttered, to her own surprise. Such a bold compliment. The first she said to Galinda as Galinda. The Princess's face turned scarlet. She looked up through her lashes. Her riveted expression made Elphaba's face grow hotter than a laundry cauldron.
"I, too, must be tired," Elphaba said as a way of explaining her sudden forwardness. She fidgeted with her bedspread, barely able to glance in Galinda's direction. She had to let Galinda know.
"When I first arrived in the castle, I did prefer Fiyero—"
Galinda swallowed.
"but you should know that such preferences have long passed. I prefer your company to Fiyero's—to anyone's in all of Oz."
The Princess smiled—a wide grin that sprouted to her ears. This smile Elphaba had missed most of all from their summer together. The one that made Elphaba feel like she held the whole word in her palms.
"And if you would permit me my own bit of selfishness, I would enjoy your company this evening."
"Permitted," Galinda said. Moving to sit in the chair beside Elphaba, she pulled out two vials of oil from her pocket and asked,
"Would you care for a bath?"
Elphaba's eyes shot wide, and Galinda jolted at her own question.
"I meant after I'm gone. I thought you might want to bathe after I left. For now, I could oil any wounds you have trouble reaching," Galinda said, trying to repair her blunder, but Elphaba's eyes only widened further.
"If you would prefer Milla—"
"I would not!" Elphaba said, "I can oil myself."
"Of course."
Galinda turned away and winced. Elphaba knew Glinda well enough to recognize the woman's habits in Galinda. The blonde had bitten her lip hard to stop from crying.
"I've upset you," Elphaba said and Galinda shook her head adamantly, looking at the wall.
"With everything I've done to you, why would you ever want me near you again," Gailnda said. "She's upset me, not you," and then shaking her head once more, "I've upset me by ruining everything we could have been."
But it wasn't Galinda's fault tonight, old or new. It was Elphaba's body, marked by Shell's desire. She felt ashamed to lay even a limb bare before Galinda. While the woman may have undressed her while she slept—awake, Elphaba felt shamefully lacking before a Princess who was beautiful beyond measure, kind, gentle, protective, smart, noble, and so very, very alluring in that dress. Yet Galinda's wounded expression pushed Elphaba past her shame into vulnerability.
"I'm embarrassed," she whispered.
Galinda turned to look at her, her eyes moist. Elphaba brought one wrist out of the covers, and pulled back her sleeve, revealing scars and bruises.
"You mean your wounds?
Elphaba nodded and Galinda's eyes softened. The silence made Elphaba's stomach feel like a nest of mice.
"Someone told me that in Gillikin kisses can heal," she said, repeating Glinda's old words to break the tension. Galinda would laugh, wouldn't she? Laughter was preferable to pity. But the Princess didn't laugh. She leaned. Elphaba's pulse quickened. Galinda clasped her scarred wrist and brought it up to her mouth and gently pressed her warm lips to it. She kissed her wrist several times, shooting tingles into Elphaba's limb up through her fingertips.
"Anything else for me to heal?" Galinda asked.
"Not tonight," Elphaba croaked.
Galinda simpered, apparently pleased with the effect she had on her, and said,
"I don't want to lose you…any more of you—your trust, your respect, your happiness, your safety—than I've already lost. If you would give me the chance, from this moment on, I will use everything in my power to add to your life, to earn your trust, to become someone you respect, to pursue all conditions that would lead to your happiness, to make Gillikin safe for you…for Liir, for every Munchkinlander."
Elphaba's chest warmed. In years to come, she might not remember everything they discussed that night, but she would remember how Galinda made her feel—safe, valued, and wanted.
When Elphaba awoke the next morning, Galinda was gone and the room felt colder for it. On the chair next to her was one of Galinda's hairpieces and fresh clothes. Elphaba brought the hairpiece to her nose and smelt it. Galinda's soaps. She smiled and noticed underneath the hair piece, Galinda left her a fresh shift and a dark black dress. The dress reminded her of the one she wore when she left Munchkinland. The memory brought to mind her father's body, Nessa's body. Her own body. And she started to cry again. The loss of her family hit her like a squall. Luckily, by the time Milla arrived, her tears had mostly dried, and she was properly dressed.
"You look grand," Milla said at Elphaba's transformation. "And you're walking."
Elphaba nodded and asked,
"How is Her Royal Highness this morning?"
Milla paused and Elphaba chided herself for asking about Galinda. She didn't want to hear Milla's contempt. But Milla wasn't angry like she had been yesterday.
"Likely unwell," Milla said softly. "His Majesty died last night."
The news knocked Elphaba back. She should have felt giddy that the man who started a war with her father, the man whom she almost murdered, the man who almost raped his daughter, was dead. But he wasn't just a villain; he was Galinda's father, and as Elphaba realized with her own siblings, one could still grieve the loss of painful things.
"Where is Her Royal Highness?"
"The castle will stage a viewing of the body for five days before the King is laid to rest in the mausoleum. Galinda will greet the guests who come to pay their respects."
Elphaba wanted to go to Galinda immediately, but she knew it was likely impossible. Before she could ask anything more, there was a knock at the door.
"Yes," Milla called out.
A slender man with walnut-colored hair and a slim mustache poked his head in.
"May I request time alone with Miss Elphaba Thropp?"
Elphaba looked at Milla to explain.
"This is Tibbett—Galinda's cousin from her mother's side."
"Her favorite cousin," Tibbett said, and before Milla could protest, "—from her mother's side."
Elphaba smirked.
"Clearly, Galinda hasn't told you anything about me? Well, once you're done with Milla, please visit me in the Green Parlor," he said and shut the door, retreating as suddenly as he came.
After Milla left, Elphaba made her way through the castle. Who was Tibbett to Galinda? There was so much of Galinda's life she didn't know. Had Galinda been close to her mother? How many cousins did she have? What did she like about Tibbett? By the time she reached the Green Parlor, she felt hemmed in on all sides with questions.
Opening the door, she saw Tibbett sitting on a window sill seat reading a book. He turned toward her and flashed a grin.
"So you're the woman my cousin sacrificed her life for. Interesting taste indeed!"
Horror flooded Elphaba. Taste? Did Tibbett know of their relationship? Would he be angry? How could he not be? They were both women. Would he try to persuade Elphaba to leave and never see the Princess again? Worse, would he tell anyone and have Galinda punished for it?
Tibbett must have noticed her mounting panic and said,
"I hope you love my cousin as much as she adores you."
He wanted Elphaba to love Galinda? Why? And how did he even know about them to begin with?
"How does my lord know of Galinda's feelings?"
"After everything she's done to sacrifice herself to free you, isn't it quite obvious?"
Of course. By leaving for the cabin, Galinda exposed her feelings for Elphaba.
"My lord won't tell anyone, will he?" she asked.
A slow smile formed on his lips.
"So, you do care for Galinda?"
Elphaba answered with a question.
"How does my lord not mind that I am a woman?"
"Because my lover is a man."
Elphaba's jaw went slack.
"When Galinda found out, she protected us. She admitted she loved a woman and mentioned your station. After everything she's done in the last couple of days—I figured it must be you. How else can you explain she's trying to find a way to return Munchkinland to the Munchkinlanders?"
"What did you say?" Elphaba asked, bewildered. Galinda had mentioned many things last night, but this was not one.
"She told me not to say a word. She hasn't figured out how to do so, but I thought you should know anyway. She didn't just sacrifice herself for you by visiting the forest; she's fighting for you before the royal advisors. None of them agree with giving Munchkinland back to the Munchkinlanders, but she's persuaded that if the Munchkins fight on our side against Paltos, she could make a case for it."
"A fight against Paltos?" Elphaba asked.
"You don't know?" he asked, and Elphaba shook her head, "Paltos has threatened to invade Gillikin. They demand a return of the anti-Munchkin laws. Laws that Galinda refuses to sign."
Elphaba was stunned. How brave the Princess was to stand in her convictions against the threat of war! Galinda had meant what she said yesternight. She was doing everything in her willpower to pursue all conditions that would lead to her happiness. Elphaba felt a formidable resolve build. If Galinda could muster such courage. So could she. Elphaba would not let Galinda stand alone. Elphaba's status in Gillikin was low—a foreign woman, a spoil of war, a soiled blemish, a disfigured creature, a handmaiden—but she would find a way to support Galinda, come hell and back.
"I worry Galinda's morals will cost her much, and I don't know you well enough to wager if your love rivals hers. Are her actions worth it?" he asked.
"Your question implies morals have contingent value, worth something only when they grant you something in return," Elphaba said. "But that would turn morals into currency, principle into strategy. Her Royal Highness deserves more credit, as does the act of moving from one's conviction. The Princess's actions have inherent worth."
Tibbett looked astonished.
"You evade my question with something almost extinct in Gillikin—integrity."
…
While a requiem of the dead was mumbled by priests of the Unnamed God in the Hall of Mourning, Galinda sat on the throne, watching over the guests who passed her father in his glass casket, weeping and laying down their gifts—flowers from the poor, wine and gold from the wealthy—her body felt a cumbersome emptiness not because she missed her father—his death was a relief as it ensured Elphaba's safety as well as her own—but because Galinda was now an orphan, a parentless person. She alone would bear the responsibility for Gillikin. She alone would be responsible for the fate of the Munchkinlanders. She alone would see to her own survival. It would not be easy. Paltos would feel invigorated with a woman on the throne. To protect Runcible, the royal advisers would pressure her, even more than they did now, to marry a lord and create a king. They would argue a woman was incapable of leading. She must gain their trust without the resource of time.
At dusk, the Hall of Mourning closed, and she walked toward the royal suites and turned a corner when Shenshen almost ran into her.
"She's awake, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed. "Pfannee's awake."
Galinda thanked Shenshen, dismissed the maid for her supper, and quickly made her way to the guest suite.
When Galinda entered the room, Pfannee sat up in bed, holding a goblet of water that Shenshen must have provided.
"Lurline's tits! So you really are a princess," Pfannee said.
Galinda burst into a laugh and then a sob as she made her way to the chair beside Pfannee's bed.
"I was so afraid you wouldn't wake up."
"I was trying to find him."
"Find who? How did you escape?"
Pfannee paused.
"Avaric," she said in answer to both questions.
"But we didn't see him with you."
Pfannee paused longer, her eyes watering.
"That's because they shot him with arrows as we escaped," she said, splashing cold sadness across Galinda. The news of his death would torture Elphaba.
Before Galinda could speak any words of comfort, Pfannee asked into the silence,
"Did the canker-blossom make it?"
Galinda nodded and said, "She's in the castle."
Pfannee's shoulders relaxed.
"He said he left her in the basement. He didn't want to—to abandon her. Or endanger you. He planned to save you both after he found me. He thought Boq and the Weavers would afford him some time." Pfannee stopped, her loss catching in her throat.
Galinda reached out and squeezed Pfannee's hand. Pfannee squeezed back. Pfannee, who could never stop talking, had nothing more to say. They wore the silence like a blanket and stared at the fire crackling in the fireplace at the opposite end of the room.
After a bit of time passed, Galinda asked if Pfannee wanted supper. The Munchkin shook her head and asked to rest. Galinda vowed to visit her tomorrow and left for Elphaba's suite.
When Galinda knocked on Elphaba's door, the door opened in a blink. Elphaba pulled her inside and closed the door behind her, drawing her into a soft embrace.
Galinda tensed. She had not been caressed like this by Elphaba. Not since she left the cabin. And she had never been caressed like this as Galinda by anyone. The tenderness of Elphaba's touch thawed Galinda. Without warning, warm tears bubbled up. Loss and more loss. Avaric. Her father. Elphaba's sister. Her mother. Her relationship with Milla. Her innocence. All she made Elphaba lose. Galinda's whimper turned into a sob, her shoulders shaking. Elphaba clutched her tighter in spite of her wounds.
"It's all right, my pretty. Let it out. I have you," Elphaba whispered softly and stroked her hair. Galinda's sadness didn't go away, but for a moment it seemed to loosen its grip. When her tears stopped, Galinda looked up to see Elphaba gazing at her with such devotion it made her cheeks flush.
"If you keep on like this, I'm not going to be able to stop!"
"Stop what?" Elphaba asked.
Galinda bit her lip. Did Elphaba really not know?
"Stop wanting you, Elphie," Galinda conceded.
Elphaba blinked rapidly, a color filling her cheeks. Had Galinda veered too far? Should she steer them to safer waters?
"I'm sorry—" she started but Elphaba's lips found hers.
They were so much gentler than the last time Elphaba kissed her when they lived with Shell. So much more tender than how Elphaba drained her milk in the castle. Their seductive patience allowed Galinda to meet her. She kissed back. Elphaba pulled Galinda into her. Her long slender fingers caressed Galinda's back, up the side of her ribs, drawing higher still. Would Elphaba touch her there? Galinda leaned into the touch and felt lightheaded.
Knock. Knock.
…
The two women swiftly broke apart. Galinda touched her mouth, seemingly shocked. Was Galinda all right? Had Elphaba moved too fast? There was no time to ask.
The door cracked open, and Tibbett popped his head in.
"Galinda, I thought I would find you here. Come have supper with Milla and me. And bring your love," he said nonchalantly and motioned with his chin toward Elphaba.
"Tibbett!" Galinda shrieked.
"What? Am I mistaken? Is there another servant in this castle you're smitten with?"
"Of course not!"
Tibbett's banter reminded Elphaba of Avaric's teasing, except this time it was Galinda being harried. Her blush only made her more adorable.
"So it is Elphaba you're in love with?" he pestered, and Galinda's mouth fell open.
Would Galinda claim her? Could she? So openly? Did Galinda's professed "want" mean what Elphaba hoped it did?
Before Galinda could respond, Milla arrived in the hallway.
"Are we heading down for supper?" Milla asked the group, still avoiding eye contact with Galinda.
"Yes!" Galinda nearly shouted, disappearing in the direction of the dinner hall. "Come along, Elphaba," Tibbett said. "It appears our Queen is shy tonight."
Elphaba had entered the dining hall many times before, but this was the first time she entered unhooded as a guest of the Queen. Tibbett motioned for Galinda to take her father's spot at the head of the table and for Elphaba to sit on her left side. He sat across from Elphaba, on Galinda's right side, and Milla sat on Tibbett's other side. Drinks were poured for the guests, and Elphaba realized she knew their waiter. He peeped in her direction several times, likely surprised to see her seated at the royal table, instead of singing for it.
"Will Boq join us?" Milla asked Tibbett.
"Boq's here?" Elphaba asked. The three Gillikinese looked at her, and Galinda nodded.
"Pfannee as well," Galinda said. "She won't be dining with us tonight, but I'm sure she would be pleased to see you tomorrow."
The conversation was light. Tibbett filled in any silences with his banter, mostly aimed at Galinda. Galinda kept pace and bantered back. Before the first course was served, the hall doors opened, and Crope entered.
"Mister Boq has arrived."
Elphaba noticed the Queen bite her lip. Was she nervous to see him? He walked down toward them and bowed low, before he took a seat beside Elphaba, across from Milla.
"Thank you for having me, Your Majesty," he said to Galinda and then whispered to Elphaba, "It's good to see you, Miss Elphaba."
Elphaba smiled back and realized that it soothed her to see another Munchkinlander in the castle.
After the second course, the conversation picked up. Unexpectedly, Elphaba realized she was enjoying herself. The spacious dining hall felt cozy like their cabin had that summer more than a year ago. The laughter. The company. The courses that came one after another—all of her favorite vegetarian dishes, paired with a bottomless mug of nutmeg milk. Her grief receded, and her hibernating senses awoke. She could smell. The warm spices of their meal. The scent of Galinda's skin and perfumes. She could hear. The clanking of silverware. The honeyed tone of Galinda's laughter. She could see. The fall vegetables dressed with sauces. Galinda's affectionate eyes glancing in her direction. Elphaba returned the sentiment until she had to look away, bashful of Galinda's open admiration.
After dessert had been cleared and their server gone for the evening, Tibbett, who had noticed the couple's silent game, asked,
"How long has it been?"
"Hm?" Galinda asked and turned toward him.
"How long have you loved her?"
Galinda blanched. "Tibbett, not here."
"Not here? You've been ogling her all night. It's plain for us to see," he said with a smile.
"Plainly repugnant," Milla muttered, her cheeriness evaporating.
Galinda froze, and Tibbett jerked to stare at her.
"I thought you approved of Elphaba?" he said.
"There's nothing wrong with Elphaba," Milla said, "It's our cousin's perverse actions against her that are abhorrent."
Elphaba saw Galinda shrink, and her stomach coiled.
"Can't you see the feeling between them is mutual?" Tibbett said, his tone shifting from surprise to annoyance.
"It hasn't always been," Milla kept on.
Just how much of her brother's story would Milla repeat? Elphaba pleaded with her eyes for Milla to stop, but Milla looked away.
"You remember what she said in the cabin, don't you?" she asked Boq, trying to rouse him. He looked on in quiet distress. She wielded Elphaba's pain to humiliate Galinda, and humiliate it did. The Queen was mute, her cheeks the color of disgrace.
"You're acting like a fool, Milla. Stop embarrassing yourself. Apologize to Galinda, now!" Tibbett said.
"It's okay," Galinda said, looking down at her plate.
"It's not! How can you tolerate her treatment?"
"Because I'm the intolerable one!" Galinda exclaimed and then exhaled. "Please continue without me. I'm feeling quite tired." She rose suddenly and was already out of the hall before Elphaba could find her voice.
"If my lady shames the Queen on my behalf, please feel relieved of the charge," Elphaba said to Milla, and then, defying royal custom, stood before her hosts were finished and hurried toward the exit, with little more than a mumbled 'excuse me.' On her way out, she heard Tibbett say,
"Are you so small-hearted not to recognize love? I thought you cared for our Galinda."
"You weren't there in the forest. You don't know her," Milla said.
"Pardon my candor, but it seems my lady might not know Her Majesty either," Boq said.
By the time Elphaba arrived in the hallway, Galinda was gone. She went to Galinda's suite.
Empty.
Of course! Galinda was no longer a princess. As a queen, she would sleep in the King's old quarters. Elphaba climbed another flight of stairs and walked down another hallway to see two guards stationed at the entrance of the Queen's chambers.
"May I speak with the Queen?"
"No one enters the royal quarters after the Queen retires for the evening," the guard on the right said, looking past her.
Elphaba wandered back to her suite, afraid that whatever blossomed between them would rapidly fade.
The next morning, Elphaba dressed and oiled herself. Determined to try Galinda's royal chambers once again.
Knick. Knock.
Galinda had come to her! Elphaba ran to the door and opened it to feel a surge of disappointment—Milla.
"I guess I wouldn't want to see me either," the woman said, acknowledging Elphaba's reticence, "I wanted to apologize. I had no right to bring up your past with Galinda last night. It's your past…and hers. Not mine to tell."
At another time, Elphaba might have felt relief, even gratitude, at Milla's eventual change of heart, but she could conjure none now, not when the impact of Milla's words on Galinda was still unknown. She tried to bridle her growing ire, reminding herself of her station. At the continued silence, Milla explained,
"Mister Boq told me about Glinda, about all the things she did for the 'Weaver' children, for everyone in the forest. If Boq and you could see something good in her, I should like to try again."
Elphaba felt sourness rise in her throat. Milla could mend her relationship with Galinda on a whim. All she needed was the thought. But what would it take for Elphaba? Would she even be given a chance? Would Galinda ever give them a chance to move past their history? Without noticing it, a warm tear plodded down her cheek. She wiped it away immediately, but it had already been seen.
"Oh, Elphaba, let me take you to her."
…
Galinda sat in the Hall of Mourning, watching the line of visitors move like a river beside her father's casket. Their wails matched her condition. Elphaba deserved better than someone who earned the disgust of Milla and failed to answer Tibbett. Who was Galinda to profess her love for Elphaba? Even if she could restrain her baseness, her noblest feelings toward Elphaba would still be deemed immoral by her subjects. Even if Elphaba had been a man, she had once been Galinda's servant. Even if Galinda elevated her to a post in her royal counsel as she intended, Elphaba was still a Munchkinlander. Her kingdom resented a woman on the throne; how much more two women, one foreign-born?
So last night, when she heard Elphaba ask for her outside her chambers, Galinda steeled herself. She couldn't indulge in fantasies, not ones that would only hurt Elphaba. So, she choose to hurt herself instead, sinking her cries into her pillow.
Now, well into the morning, her tears still came in fits and starts and long deluges. Luckily, her father's casket made her cries seem appropriate, cast her as a devoted daughter. Visitors bowed and murmured blessings in her direction. Galinda resented them. Her people would never understand. They wouldn't accept it. Ever. She felt repulsed by the whole line. Until her eyes fell on someone who didn't repulse her at all. Miss Clutch.
…
Elphaba was brought into the Hall of Mourning through a side entrance that was hidden from onlookers with a screen. She stood as if standing behind the curtain of a stage. She had a lateral view of Galinda and the closest mourners. Galinda's black dress cut to her stomach, exposing the tops and inner sides of her breasts, the typical fashion of Gillikinese royalty, but the sight still surprised Elphaba. Her stomach swirled, her thighs clenched. The Queen was focused. Elphaba followed her line of sight to find a striking visitor, a woman with light brown hair and hazel eyes who stared directly at the Queen. The visitor was well-proportioned, statuesque, with womanly hips and full lips. She smiled at Galinda. Galinda smiled back, a smile like the ones Glinda gave to Elphaba.
"Who is she?"
"Miss Clutch!" Milla realized aloud.
Elphaba had heard that name before. But from whom?… Nanny? Yes, Nanny! Miss Clutch was…was… Elphaba's predecessor. Memories floated back. Miss Clutch was Galinda's handmaiden who was said to be…" indecent"…around Princess Galinda. Elphaba's heart started to race. There was no need to worry. It was only a rumor. And Miss Clutch was paying her respects. And Galinda never talked about Miss Clutch. There was nothing between them. Galinda's smile was a formality exchanged between acquaintances. But then Elphaba had just found out about Tibbett. There was still so much to learn about Galinda. Could it be possible that the Queen had loved…still loved Miss Clutch? Elphaba remembered Tibbett's question to Galinda.
Is there another servant around this castle you're smitten with?
According to Nanny, there was one. The woman whom Elphaba replaced long ago suddenly seemed poised to retake her position in more ways than one. Elphaba shook her head. She would trust Galinda. What Galinda pledged to her in her room could not be broken by a pretty face. But then why was Galinda motioning for the beguiling woman to follow her out of the hall?
"It's uncommon to leave the Hall of Mourning for a private meeting," Milla noticed aloud.
Elphaba's mind reeled. Don't! Don't imagine what types of actions require privacy.
"Where are they going?" Elphaba blurted, hating how anxious she sounded.
"Galinda is likely headed to the ballroom. There's a tea room on the other end of it. Galinda meets her teachers and visitors there. Let's join them."
…
"I didn't come to mourn the King. I came to see Your Majesty. 'Though I didn't expect a private meeting," Miss Clutch said. Despite the years apart, Miss Clutch wore the time well. While a decade older than Galinda, she still looked to be her peer. They sat across from each other in the tea room by a trapezoid window of stained glass. Miss Clutch's pink fingers traced the mother-of-pearl tiling on top of their wooden table, her scent of lavender and cinnamon educing vivid memory. Miss Clutch's hands loosening her dress, her voice cradling her ear, her eyes praising her gracefulness. The attention Miss Clutch gave her replaced what Galinda never had with her mother and never wanted from her father.
"We didn't get to say goodbye," Galinda said.
"I wanted to come earlier, but I knew I would never be allowed entrance while your father lived."
Galinda felt a tinge of warmth. Miss Clutch had missed her, too. But how strange. At one time, Galinda would have only been too happy to have Miss Clutch to herself. She had been furious Elphaba had taken her place. Yet, now Galinda wished it was Elphaba who sat in front of her. Would she ever be allowed to enjoy Elphaba's company like this without rumors and whispers? Warm wetness gathered at the corners of Galinda's eyes. Not now. Not here. She crushed her lip with her teeth. If she started crying again, she might never stop.
"—I wanted to thank you for saving me that night," Miss Clutch said, still talking, "You should have never had to see any of that."
Galinda reached out and clasped Miss Clutch's arm, an act meant to soothe Miss Clutch and herself.
…
Elphaba hadn't considered the ballroom Milla mentioned would be the same one she met the Queen in over two years ago. The one where Galinda used her fan to play with her breasts while she taunted and ridiculed. Elphaba clenched her eyes shut as she walked. If she didn't look, perhaps the memories would pass.
"Elphaba!" Milla called out. The Munchkinlander opened her eyes to see she had almost walked into the door.
"Are you all right?" Milla asked and opened the tea room door.
Elphaba held her breath.
There sat Galinda at a wooden table. Holding Miss Clutch's hands. The way they stared into each other. The way they hadn't noticed them come in. The way tears swept down both of their cheeks. Suddenly, Galinda's love appeared less exclusive, less stationary, less Glinda-like, like a very separate and wholly different thing from what Elphaba felt.
…
Someone cleared their throat. Galinda released Miss Clutch and stood. Milla was in the doorway with Elphaba behind her, the Munchkinlander's near-black eyes searching her. Elphaba! How she wished she could fling herself into the woman's arms and be kissed again.
Instead, she suppressed her urge while the two women whom she cared about most made their way toward them. Elphaba's face displayed a quiet sharpness Galinda couldn't read. Studying Elphaba, she forgot Miss Clutch beside her. Milla cleared her throat again.
"We didn't mean to intrude. We thought we would get some tea. Might we join Your Majesty?"
"Yes, of course," Galinda said, regaining herself, "This is Miss Clutch, and, Miss Clutch, you remember my cousin, Milla, and this is my—" 'Elphie,' she almost blurted but caught herself, "H-her Eminence, Elphaba Thropp."
The title startled Elphaba, who likely had not heard that designation from anyone besides Nanny in Gillikin.
"Join us. I'll have more tea and warm milk brought over," Galinda said.
Galinda didn't know what she expected after her invitation, but it was definitely not the awkward silence that ensued. Miss Clutch surveyed Elphaba up and down. Elphaba looked stiff and uneasy, and for good cause. Every time Elphaba reached for her teacup, Miss Clutch would jump as if expecting Elphaba to maul her for a lemon biscuit. At Miss Clutch's flinches and torques, Elphaba raised an eyebrow, signaling for Miss Clutch to explain her distress or settle. But Miss Clutch did neither. Instead, she raised her teacup to her lips and glared over the rim, warning Elphaba to keep her distance.
"Miss Clutch, where do you call home?" Milla asked, and Galinda felt grateful that her cousin, who hadn't given her a kind look in days, attempted to alleviate the tension.
"Paltos. I'm currently employed by a baroness." She turned to Galinda, "Your Majesty is very gracious to employ Elphaba. In Paltos, it would be unheard of to employ someone this deformed," she said, dropping Elphaba's title.
"Her Eminence is my guest, not my employee," Galinda said, "And her uniqueness is not a deformity but an impressive rarity."
Miss Clutch's nose scrunched but said no more. Milla continued the light conversation. Galinda tried several times to ask Elphaba a question, but when Elphaba attempted to answer, Miss Clutch would interrupt, asking about the tea, commenting about the weather, dropping her spoon, looking out the window as if no one was talking at all.
The muscles in Galinda's arms quivered. How could Miss Clutch, who told her that was pretty, who argued every Gillikinese woman should be allowed to read, who wished to protect Galinda from her father, be the same woman who thought Munchkinlanders deserved no respect at all? Her nails bit into her palms. Despite being Queen, she could only sit and watch as Elphaba was slighted by the woman who had once been her hero.
…
Elphaba wanted to leave. Miss Clutch's disgust felt unbearably familiar, reminding her of her first memories with Galinda. Even now, despite her station being above Miss Clutch, the woman thought Elphaba equal to a cur. Watching Galinda try to include her, again and again, only for Miss Clutch to ignore the Queen's attempts, Elphaba realized her presence in the castle was not a support to Galinda but a strain. Even if Galinda cared for her—even if she loved her in a Glinda-like way—surely her kingdom's prejudices would eventually wear away even the smallest sentiment of affection. For how long could one defend one's love against the onslaught of open and boundless disdain?
For the first time, Elphaba wished herself other than a Munchkinlander. Isn't that what the war meant? Munchkinland lost its sovereignty to Gillikin. Its peoples were no longer two but one. All divisions between the two kingdoms ceased. And yet, the only thing that seemed to cease was the expectation that Munchkinlanders deserved any shred of decency.
Elphaba's anger built. It was easier than sadness. It was mobile, it was energizing, it was propelling Elphaba into a stand. Galinda rose to match her or perhaps hide the disrespect that her uninvited stand signaled.
"Shall we walk in the gardens?" the Queen asked.
Milla nodded and had a servant bring a tray of sandwiches and blankets for lounging. The four made their way through the castle toward the back entrance, but Elphaba had no intention of joining. She planned to return to her suite and hung back as Milla and Miss Clutch walked into the fresh air. As Galinda was about to pass through the doorway, Elphaba said,
"Please go on without me, Your Majesty."
The Queen turned, and her face shocked Elphaba. Gone was Galinda's quiet restraint. Her eyes were desperate. Her bottom lip trembled. She drew near, leaned in, and stood on her tiptoes, the top of her bare breasts sliding up to Elphaba's shoulder.
"Don't leave me," Galinda whispered. "Please."
Galinda's breath in Elphaba's ear sent goosebumps down the Munchkinlander's arm.
"I suppose a short walk would be nice after all."
How was it that Elphaba had no power to deny Galinda? The smallest hint of sadness on Galinda's face made Elphaba eager to soothe. Galinda descended, her breasts brushing her arm again. Galinda smiled, and Elphaba found herself smiling back.
"Not too fast," Galinda whispered and clasped Elphaba's bicep with both hands. The Queen wanted to lag behind. Galinda wanted to spend time. With her. Her. Not Miss Clutch. Elphaba slowed, and when enough distance was put in between the couples, Galinda called out,
"Milla, take Miss Clutch to see the roses. Elphaba and I have some business to discuss."
Milla turned around and nodded. Miss Clutch seemed confused at their sudden parting, but waved goodbye and followed Milla around a corner.
"Leave the blankets and tray of sandwiches and bring another set to my cousin," Galinda said to the servant who trailed behind. The servant passed the objects to Elphaba and went on their way.
Now fully alone, Elphaba felt tongue-tied. They walked in silence, Galinda's arm occasionally skimming hers, until they landed upon a large willow tree. Elphaba moved to walk under it, but Galinda clutched the crook of her arm and pulled her to a sunny spot beyond its branches.
"Shall we lay our blanket here in the sun?" the Queen asked, raising a hand to her brow to shade her eyes.
"Despite my hue, I am not, in fact, a plant," Elphaba teased. Galinda broke out in laughter.
Laying on the grassy field with the Queen, Elphaba felt more carefree than she had in a long while. As she watched a cloud go by, she felt Galinda's pinky clasp hers. The tiny touch in such an open space felt scandalous. Elphaba blushed hard as she curled her pinky around Galinda's. Neither spoke, and time seemed to stop. Or at least Elphaba's breath had. How silly Elphaba's fears seemed now. Galinda's love was not so weak. Of course, it was not. Still, she needed to know.
"Why didn't you come to see me this morning?" Elphaba asked and felt Galinda's pinky tense. "Did you not want to see me?"
"I wanted to see you; of course I did. I always want to see you…"
"Then?"
Galinda paused. Elphaba's heart sped up, afraid Galinda would say what she already knew. Elphaba didn't deserve to love someone of Galinda's status, not after the war. With her looks, perhaps not ever. Or perhaps Galinda didn't want to be subject to constant judgment from her cousin, from her countrymen, from everyone. Instead, Galinda whispered,
"How can you love me? I don't deserve to be loved, especially by you."
Why did she still underestimate Galinda? The woman didn't avoid her out of capriciousness or cowardice. She didn't love someone else. She wasn't afraid of reproach. She kept away because she hadn't forgiven herself. Elphaba needed this impediment cleared.
"Galinda, do you love me?" she asked.
Galinda bit her lip. Elphaba wouldn't back down. Galinda would have to claim what she wanted and decide to leave her past behind.
"Do you love Miss Clutch?"
Galinda sat upright, dropping Elphaba's pinky.
"It's not that! How could you even think that I—"
"Nanny," Elphaba said.
"Nanny?"
"She said Miss Clutch 'aroused passions' in you. Does she still?"
Galinda looked incredulous before she said,
"That was a rumor! A rumor Nanny should have not repeated. One my father started!" The passion in Galinda's voice was the momentum Elphaba sought.
"So you never touched her the way you touched me?"
"Never!" Galinda said.
"Nor she you?"
"Of course not!" Galinda said, her brows furrowing.
"You never loved her?"
"I—" Galinda stopped, suspended in mid-speech.
Had loved her. Definitely had.
"Do you still love her?"
"I was fond of her. It was a young infatuation, nothing more."
"The same as your feelings for me?" Elphaba asked, pressing harder still.
"Oh, Elphie, don't be ridiculous!" Galinda said, her voice urgent but gentle. She clutched Elphaba's hand and placed it atop her left breast, making it hard for Elphaba to swallow. "I've never felt what I feel for you for anyone, and I've only fallen deeper in love with you since I left the cabin. Isn't it obvious?"
"That serves us well," Elphaba managed. "Because I didn't kiss Glinda the other night. I kissed you—Galinda. I've fallen in love with you too…I forgive you, Galinda."
Galinda's eyes opened wide before she broke into a cry. She pulled Elphaba's hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly before resting her cheek against it.
"I don't deserve you," Galinda whispered.
"You do," Elphaba said. "You've changed and become a woman whom I admire. You're brave, beautiful, and good."
"What if I'm not good enough?"
"How can you say that?"
"Because…Because the thought of you, Elphie—the thought of controlling you in those detestable, despicable ways I did as the Princess…it still excites me," the Queen confessed.
Elphaba's heart stopped. She had not expected this. Why had she not expected this? Elphaba spiraled into memory—old Galinda measuring her waist, forbidding her to eat, ordering her to undress, taking her against her will. Could this new Galinda still take pleasure in such humiliations? Did she think Elphaba should bear these humiliations, not once but twice? For eternity? Suddenly, that seemed more realistic than the Queen of Gillikin falling in love with her Munchkinlander servant who deceived her. If her own brother wanted to hurt her, why not Galinda, too? Elphaba yanked her hand back. Tears welled. A rising sob uncharacteristically shook Elphaba's shoulders and threatened to break into sound. She pursed her lips to keep it from leaving her mouth. Her mind swirled, and she was unable to hear Galinda add, "I would sooner end myself than hurt you like that again. That's why I've kept my distance."
Shuddering, Elphaba stood up.
"Elphaba, please," Galinda pleaded, rising to stand with her.
Elphaba shook her head and ran.
…
So this is what it felt like to watch your love run from you in terror. The Queen watched Elphaba flee into the castle and bent over by the willow tree and vomited. She managed to do the one thing she never wanted to do again—hurt her Elphie. The sky spun. Her knees wobbled. She fell to the ground.
"Miss—Queen Galinda!" she heard a familiar voice say behind her before she passed out.
…
Elphaba darted upstairs toward her guest suite to find Shenshen pacing in the hallway in front of her door. When her eyes landed on Elphaba, she lurched forward and grabbed Elphaba's arm.
"You need to come with me!"
"I'm no longer employed here, and I'm not in the mood—"
"I don't care," Shenshen said and dragged her along.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To Pfannee!"
When they entered a nearby guest suite, Elphaba saw Pfannee on a bed, her wrists tied to the bedposts with her bedsheets. The Munchkin wriggled, screaming to be let loose.
"What have you done to her?"
"What have I done? Me?" Shenshen asked, "She was about slit her wrists with the knife I gave her to cut her grapefruit this morning. She'll not die on my watch! You need to calm her. I've work to do. I can't stay and tend to her all morning! Morrible will kill me. You're a Munchkinlander, the same as her. Surely, you'll know what to do with her better than I."
Shenshen left, and Pfannee fell silent and stared at the ceiling. Elphaba moved to the bed and untied her. Her wrists revealed the same scars that lined Elphaba's wrists.
"Are you okay?" Elphaba asked.
Pfannee rubbed her forearms and sat up.
"He murdered him, you know."
"Murdered…who?"
Pfannee looked at her with narrowed eyes.
"Avaric, you want-wit canker-blossom!"
The name didn't register at first. Elphaba repeated the syllables in her mind several times before understanding dawned.
"No," she whispered. "Impossible! Avaric made a bargain with Shell. He traded Galinda for you."
"A bargain your brother never meant to keep," Pfannee said. "Before he went back to the cabin for Galinda, he shot him down with arrows."
Elphaba fell into the chair beside Pfannee's bed.
"I never thought—how could Shell? Why—"
"Because he wanted to. Entitlement only requires opportunity, not rationality. Avaric's gone because of your rotten brother!" Pfannee shouted.
Elphaba hadn't even thought to worry about Avaric. She assumed he would be fine. He was always the strong one. The one who pulled her out of her worst moods and cursed decisions. Even Nessa's death didn't sting like this.
"Shell won't stop, you know. During those months he kept me as a prisoner, he told me how he wanted to maim and murder Galinda. He won't stop until she's dead. Do you have a plan to protect her?" Pfannee asked.
"No," Elphaba admitted. She hadn't even recovered from the Queen's reveal.
"I thought you loved her."
"I do," Elphaba said. "Or I did—I don't know."
"Did? How can your love be so fickle for the woman who risked her life to save you?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Fine. Don't explain. Let's sit and wait for another grapefruit."
Elphaba groaned. What did she have to lose? Galinda was the only thing that meant anything to her, and it turned out Elphaba meant nothing to the Queen.
"It thrills Galinda to dominate me," she admitted, pressing her knees together.
Pfannee scratched her head.
"She finds it exciting to keep me bound," Elphaba clarified, too embarrassed to meet Pfannee's eyes.
"What's wrong with that?" Pfannee asked.
"How can you say that after everything we've been through," Elphaba asked, pulling up her sleeve to reveal her own ring of scars.
"These are different," Pfannee said, raising her wrist. "Galinda doesn't want to hurt you. She wants intimacy."
"Shell was intimate," Elphaba said, feeling nauseated.
"No, he wasn't," Pfannee said firmly. "He wasn't intimate with either of us. He was cruel."
"How do you know Galinda's different?"
"Lurline's tits, you nitwit," Pfannee said. "The girl risked her life to save you. Imagine a Queen risking herself for a servant! Giving herself up to a man who wanted to kill her, all to free you. Does that sound like someone who wants to be cruel?"
When Elphaba considered it calmly, it seemed unreasonable that the new Galinda was the same as the old Galinda. But what did Galinda's words mean? What kind of control did Galinda want Elphaba to bear?
"What if I can't be loved in the way she wants?"
"She's likely asking for your trust."
"My trust?" Elphaba asked, befuddled.
"You should have spent more time at the Philosophy Club." Pfannee sighed and then explained, "A display of trust is where you give up your freedom willingly to the person you trust to care for you. And they return your trust with pleasure."
"Pleasure?"
"Sex, boil-brain!" Pfannee said.
Elphaba shivered.
"Well, do you want her to touch you?" Pfannee asked.
Elphaba remembered how her body tingled effervescently whenever Galinda came near. She couldn't deny it.
"Yes," she whispered.
"And do you trust her?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?!"
"Our past is not so simple," Elphaba said with discretion.
"Shell told me the things she did to you both long ago," Pfannee said, and Elphaba cursed her brother for sharing their shame so incautiously. What Galinda did would make anyone hate her. "But the girl we met in the forest isn't that person, is she? She changed so much you even fell in love with her, correct?"
Elphaba nodded. Somebody who finally understood. Pfannee must have seen Avaric in the same light. But had Avaric wanted from Pfannee what Galinda wanted from her?
"Galinda feels excited about… the way she used to…"
"Control you?"
Elphaba nodded, clutching her dress.
"Did you ask her what she wanted?"
"No," Elphaba said. She had run. Recalling the moment, Elphaba saw Galinda's face. Galinda appeared contrite. Not the look of a tyrant but of a penitent.
"If you give her control, do you fear she will do this?" Pfannee asked and pulled her shift from her shoulder to reveal large indigo bruises and the word traitor carved into her skin.
Elphaba gasped at Shell's grotesqueries.
"Galinda would never!"
"Has she tried to force herself on you since she brought you here from the cabin?"
Elphaba shook her head again. On the contrary, Galinda treated her like royalty.
"Asking for control and seizing it are separate things. Galinda has every means to take what she wants from you as Queen," Pfannee said, and Elphaba knew too well that it was true. "If she were like Shell, she would have already made you submit. It would be your submission, not your trust, that aroused her. If she is waiting for your permission, and if you wish to give it to her, then, I think it's safe to say it isn't cruelty Galinda desires—it's you. All of you. Especially your faith in her."
Elphaba paused. Was there a chance Galinda didn't want to harm her? Was there a chance that Galinda felt aroused by her trust? Could Elphaba trust her? In that way? Or would her body panic like it had a moment ago?
"I envy you," Pfannee said, crossing her arms. "You get to see what's on the other side of forgiveness. You get to start over with a woman who finds a canker-blossom like you desirable."
Without warning, Pfannee's door opened.
"Elphaba, I need you to come with me right now," Milla said.
Elphaba took one look at Pfannee and said,
"Promise not to kill yourself while I'm away."
"I suppose I can wait at least another week."
"Forever, preferably."
Pfannee shrugged but said,
"I'll consider it."
When Elphaba went into the hallway, Milla whispered to her. "Galinda's collapsed. They've taken her to the royal quarters and arrested Boq. They think he's assaulted her."
Elphaba's chest caved.
"But why would Boq—"
"I don't think he had anything to do with it! But I need you to sit with Galinda while I try to see where they've taken him," Milla said. Elphaba nodded and dashed toward Galinda's chambers.