Chapter Text
“They are going to miss me so much.”
Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands was finally on Shiz University’s hallowed campus and free of her hover-balloon parents. She had exactly two goals. One: Become a powerful and renowned sorceress. Two: Secure an advantageous match. It needn’t be a marriage per se. She took after her granny, after all. Mistresses, companions, and lifelong housemates could be quite respectable and influential in their own right.
Galinda scanned the crowd of arriving students trying to determine who might be worth her while. Her view was briefly blocked by a redheaded boy. “My parents haven’t even noticed I left,” he said with a nervous smile.
“What?” she replied, in an attempt to confirm that he was in fact speaking to her.
“I’m Boq. Boq Woodsman. I’m from Munchkinland.”
“Oh. Biq-”
“It’s Biq. It’s Boq. I know we don’t really know each other, but-”
“You know what I always say, Biq? I like to think that strangers…are just people I’ve never met.”
Galinda went on her way and resumed her inspection of the Munchkinland ferry boats. A doe-eyed brunette in an elegant wheelchair caught her attention. She recognized the girl’s father as Governor Frexspar Thropp, so this must be his only child and heir to the governorship, Nessarose. Galinda went in for a closer look.
“Father, I’ll be fine, really,” the girl was saying. “I have all my books and papers, and the valets will handle my luggage. I just need to find my room.”
“I’m going to stay with you until you get settled,” the governor insisted.
“You promised,” the girl chided with reproachful, pleading eyes.
“I promised I’d leave once I was sure you no longer needed me, and I’m not sure of any such thing yet,” said the Governor. “You’re all I have in the world. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you, too.”
Galinda took a dramatical step forward and tossed her hair in the future governor’s direction. “Excuse me, your grace,” she addressed the current governor, “but I’ve volunteered to help newly-arrived students prepare for the semester, and your daughter appears to be a newly-arrived student. Is she here alone? No partner? Siblings? Cousins? Gubernatorial wards or upstart bastards?”
“What? Who are you and what is the meaning of this?” the governor demanded.
“I’m Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands, and the meaning of this is that I would like to help your lovely daughter have a lovely first day of class,” said Galinda. “I assure you, sir, no harm will come to this tragically beautiful girl as long as she is in my care. In fact, I plan to major in sorcery, and someday it would be my honor to use my magical abilities to cure your daughter’s unfortunish condition.”
The gathering crowd oo’d, ah’d, and applauded at Galinda’s goodness. She made a deep curtsey and landed on bended knee, looking up with adoring eyes at the girl’s overwhelmed face.
A sarcastic slow clap caught Galinda’s ear. She twirled 180 degrees toward the sound. No. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. No one said SHE was coming! Had HE really allowed it?
“Offering to help someone you don’t know, using skills you don’t have. I’m sure we’re all duly impressed.”
The speaker had just floated down from the sky. She was a young woman with skin as green as the pinstripes on her custom doctoral candidate's robes. Her eyeglasses, nails, and shoes were covered in hundreds of tiny rubies. Her dark microbraided hair was coiffed in elegant, fashionable twists and topped with an unmistakable golden tiara set with emeralds modeled after the Emerald City skyline. She had landed next to a white-haired woman in opulent professor’s robes who looked equally unimpressed.
The governor’s daughter took advantage of the distraction and swiftly wheeled away from Galinda. “I’m Nessarose Thropp of Munchkinland,” she held out an eager hand. “And you must be the Wonderful Witchling of Oz!”
“Nessarose,” the green girl said softly as she took Nessarose’s outstretched hand in both of hers. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Please, you must call me Elphaba.”
The attention of the crowd that had been fixated on Nessarose and Galinda was now fully transferred to Elphaba. Their voices blended together as they all clamored to meet the subject of the books, posters, records, and plays that they had all grown up with. “All right, frequently asked questions,” Elphaba laughed with a reserved, indulgent pleasantness. “No, the Wizard did not carve me from an emerald and bring me to life with the Grimmerie; yes, my mother was a fairy who eloped with the Wizard; and yes, I have always been green.”
“Her Ozness will have plenty of time to take questions later,” said the white-haired witch at her side. “But she didn’t come to Shiz to teach you about herself. She’s been studying privately with me and my colleagues for years, and this year she’s going to be my graduate assistant. One deserving undergraduate student will have the privilege of learning sorcery from the two of us personally!”
Galinda scrambled to correct her oversight. She had been so distracted by the Witchling’s appearance that she didn’t realize this professor was the whole reason she’d come to Shiz in the first place. “You must be the Madame Morrible! I’m Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands. Perhaps you recall my application essay. It was the one titled, ‘Magic wands: Need they have a point?’ You simply must accept me into your seminar.”
“If you want a chance at being accepted, you simply must apply through the Office of the Registrar like any other student,” said Madame Morrible.
Elphaba surmised, “You’re Larena Arduenna Upland’s daughter and Gayelette the Good’s granddaughter?”
“I don’t like to name-drop, but yes,” Galinda said with a prim, modest smile.
“I've met Gayelette,” said Elphaba. “Her epithet is well-earned.” Galinda got the distinct impression that Elphaba was implying she hadn’t earned anything yet. This was not going well. “And how about you, Nessarose?” Elphaba had moved on. “Will you be studying sorcery?”
“I haven’t picked a major yet,” said Nessarose. “I was thinking political science, but I do have a little magical talent from my mother’s side.”
“If you change your mind, I hope you’ll apply to our seminar,” Elphaba encouraged.
“Come, dearie,” Madame Morrible interjected. “We ought to get the opening ceremony underway while the weather holds.”
Elphaba quickly stepped back in line. But she let her gaze linger on Nessarose for a moment as Madame Morrible whisked her away from the crowd.
The governor caught up with his daughter. “Nessa, we’ve talked about this,” he said. “Sorcery is too dangerous, and it won’t do your career any good. If you don’t want political science, there’s always urban planning, or communications, or anything at all but sorcery.”
Galinda flitted between Nessarose and her father. “Your Governorship, you’re an alumnus, aren’t you?”
“A legacy, third generation,” he said with pride. “I met Nessarose’s mother here at Shiz.”
“Then you know that this school has advisors and success coaches that are second to none. Your daughter will not want for assistance in choosing a major.” She raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. “Now, your graciousness, would you please grant me the sacred honor of allowing me to help Miss Nessarose get settled in her dormitory?”
“I suppose I have to let her go sooner or later,” Frexspar frowned. He gave Nessarose a tight, lingering hug. “Promise you’ll write me a letter every day,” he pleaded.
“Of course,” Nessarose agreed.
“Remember your clay masks.”
“I brought enough for the whole semester and then some,” Nessarose rolled her eyes.
“And promise me you will not apply for that sorcery seminar,” he ordered.
“The Witchling asked me personally, I was just being polite,” Nessarose dismissed.
“Nessarose, I want your promise.”
“Fine, I promise I won’t apply for the seminar,” Nessarose sighed.
Galinda grabbed the handles on Nessarose’s chair and turned her away from her father. “Opening ceremony starts any moment. Have a wonderful journey home, your governingness!”
As Galinda sped toward the courtyard, Nessarose protested, “You don’t have to push my chair.”
“I know,” Galinda smiled down at her. “That’s what makes me so nice.”
The two girls made it to the courtyard just as the opening bells were chiming. Galinda rolled Nessarose's chair to the very front row. It was the kind of thoughtful, considerate thing that she did.
The headmistress was at the podium saying things that didn't sound especially important. Galinda was paying more attention to the professors. There were two Animal professors on the end of the row, a little aside from the humans. Galinda recognized one of the humans, Professor Mombi, from the scholastic journals in her granny’s study. The dark-skinned, silver-haired woman’s title was Dean of Biological Arts, but Galinda knew her expertise included transformation potions. Galinda hoped to enroll in at least one of her classes, although potions weren’t as interesting to her as spellcasting.
Madame Morrible sat in the center of the stage like a queen holding court. The Witchling sat at her right hand like the fairy princess she was. Galinda suppressed the desire to stare at the Witchling.This iconic young woman had been such a monumentatious influence in Galinda's life. And Galinda had gone into their very first meeting unprepared, met with scorn for trying to show kindness to a poor crippled girl.
“And finally,” said the headmistress, “I'd like to introduce this year's guest lecturer. Her name is Miss Elphaba, although I'm sure you all know her better by another name. May I present to you, half of Oz's favorite team, The Wonderful Witchling of Oz!”
Wild applause and screams of delight greeted Elphaba as she stepped forward and graciously took the podium. “Thank you,” Elphaba said with a slight curtsy. “I'm looking forward to your applications for the seminar I'm teaching under Madame Morrible’s supervision. She has allowed me to choose the essay topic. After long and careful deliberation — what’s college without those last minute deadlines?” she paused for the crowd’s laughter, “I’ve chosen Noteworthy Animal Achievements in Sorcery. In addition to the essay, applicants need to pitch a semester project that will utilize practical magic. For that part, you're unlimited! I can’t wait to see what you all come up with.”
The crowd’s response to the essay topic was less unanimous. Some responded with polite, moderate applause. Others gave their aggressive approval. Still others conspicuously held their applause altogether. Galinda fell into the first category and was pleased to see that Nessarose did as well. She found the other two responses equally gauche.
The sound of hoofbeats came thundering into the back of the courtyard. A Horse cantered down the center aisle, bearing the most charming rider Galinda had ever seen. “Sorry to interrupt, but could someone direct me to the Office of the Registrar?” asked the rider. “I haven't missed the enrollment deadline, have I?”
Fiyero Tigelaar, Prince of Winkie Country. The pictures didn’t do him justice, but this had to be him. Galinda could’ve sworn he was supposed to be at the Royal Vinkun University this year. He must've made a last-minute transfer so sudden that none of the papers or magazines she subscribed to had time to report it. He’d attended five other colleges, so that would be very on-brand.
“Your Highness,” the Witchling acknowledged him with diplomatic disdain.
“Fae!” Fiyero exclaimed in delight. “I totally forgot you go here!”
“My apologies, Fae,” said the Horse. “By the time I realized where he was going with this, I was moving too fast to stop.”
“It's all right, Feldspur, we’ve all been there,” Elphaba reassured him, showing a relaxed familiarity that she had withheld from his rider. “You and I can catch up later. Miss Coddle, I believe room assignments are next on the agenda?”
After a beat of silence, Elphaba repeated, “Miss Coddle?”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Your Ozness,” the matron giggled, stumbling to the podium as she kept her eyes on Fiyero. She pressed a remote switch and unfurled several banners assigning names to dormitories and units. “Your Highness, I'm afraid your name isn't on the housing lust, I-I mean our lousing hist, bu-”
Hands shot up all over the courtyard. Galinda kept hers to herself. Nobody in all of Oz could entice Galinda to compromise a private suite.
A boy in doctoral candidate’s robes identical to Elphaba’s, only with blue stripes in place of green, stood up. He was average height with light brown skin, dark eyes, and thick, dark, wavy hair. Galinda noticed Professor Mombi subtly shaking her head and motioning for him to sit back down. The boy either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He walked on stage and whispered something to Miss Coddle, who seemed very familiar with him, as did all the professors.
After a couple seconds of muted conversation, Miss Coddle said, “Your Highness, you may speak with Master Tippetarius about your living arrangements. The rest of you have your assigned rooms on the banners. Go forth and let your year of academica begin!”
Pfannee and ShenShen, Galinda’s best friends from high school, caught up with her. Galinda introduced them to Nessarose right away. “Did you tell her the rules?” Pfannee asked.
“Rules?” said Nessarose.
“Just a thing we did in high school,” Galinda brushed them off.
“You promised we’d keep it up in college if we all got into the same school after our gap year,” ShenShen protested.
“So I did,” Galinda acknowledged. “We only wear our hair in ponytails one day a week, we only wear pants on Fridays, and on Wednesdays we wear pink.”
“My hair was long enough for a ponytail when we made these rules,” said Pfannee.
“I don’t have any pink clothes,” said Nessa.
“That’s the most horrendable thing I’ve heard in my life!” Galinda cried. “Come to my suite after you’ve gotten settled into yours, and I’ll pick out a few things for you to borrow.”