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Chapter Text

Chapter One

Elphaba hated water. 

She hated the way it sloshed everywhere; the way it slid into every crevice, clung to every surface, seeped into fabric like an unwanted invader that didn’t belong, leaving the wearer soggy and uncomfortable. Hated the way huge bodies of it could be so peaceful and captivating, and yet turn dangerous and deadly with a simple change on the tide. 

Mostly, though, she hated how even the smallest drop on her abnormal, green skin sent her into unbearable agony.

The morning sun filtered in through the tiny window of her bedroom, which overlooked the ocean that surrounded the small island she’d called home for as long as she could remember. Elphaba closed her eyes with a groan, covering her face with her hands as she willed reality to bend to her will, hoping that time would somehow rewind and give her one more hour of sleep before she was forced to face the day ahead. It never worked, but she lay in denial anyway since mornings were the only part of her day where she didn’t have to keep up a constant vigilance. 

As though wishing to add on to her misery, the sound of her father’s voice filtered in through the closed door, his shrill cadence like knives scraping against what little bit of peace she’d managed to cling to. “Elphaba! Elphaba Thropp! What are you still doing in bed?” 

Elphaba didn’t bother replying as she forced herself to move, since it would be pointless to argue. Frexspar Thropp thrived when he was given the opportunity to fight with someone, his oldest daughter his favorite opponent. She’d learned over the years that the easiest way to deal with him was to simply ignore him whenever possible and stay out of the way whenever she could. 

Unfortunately, his voice only grew louder. As though sensing her intentions, he barked out, “You need to be out on the water if we’re to make our deadline! The Woodsmans set out an hour ago. If we lose our revenue for the day because of your laziness, you’ll find yourself at sea until you double our losses. Now get dressed and get out there!”

Elphaba winced as his clomping footsteps faded down the hallway, her only sign that she was alone once more. She sighed as a thousand retorts seeped into her brain, each more satisfying than the last. What she wouldn’t give to one day muster up the courage to tell her father exactly what she thought about fishing, or water, or the job he forced her through despite her allergy. The accident that had left him unable to go back out in the water, coupled by her sister’s condition, left Elphaba as the only one able to sail and catch the fish they made their living on. 

Casting one last weary glance out at the window and the sea that taunted her with its constant, looming presence, Elphaba peeled herself out of bed and trudged to her closet, pulling out the long sleeved shirt and black leggings that she always wore underneath her waterproof jumpsuit. It was the only thing that shielded her skin from even the smallest drop of water. It covered every inch of her, with a hood that pulled over her head and zipped up around her face, a mesh opening near her eyes for visibility. Elphaba usually wore a pair of sturdy goggles around the opening for added protection, but none of it ever felt like enough. Even the heavy boots that slipped on over her legs, well past her knees, sometimes felt like thin sandals when she was out in the water, so paranoid was she that they’d one day fail her. 

But there was hardly any choice. They couldn’t afford to hire anyone else to sail out into the water, and with Nessarose wheelchair-bound and Frexspar physically incapable of handling the boat, the job, unfortunately, fell to her. 

So, with little choice in the matter, Elphaba reluctantly left the safety and privacy of her tiny bedroom and made her way down the hallway toward the kitchen. 

She found Nessa at the stove, as she did every morning, frying some eggs in an old skillet. She looked up at the sound of Elphaba’s heavy footsteps and, unlike their father, who never deigned to so much as look at her when they were in the same room together, smiled widely as she exclaimed, “Good morning Elphaba!”

Elphaba returned her younger sister’s greeting with minimal enthusiasm as she took a seat at the table, avoiding Frex’s penetrating gaze. He wouldn’t say anything in front of Nessa, but she could practically feel the anger wafting off his heavyset form. He drummed his thick fingers on the table as Nessa finished frying the eggs, dividing them onto three clean plates. When she was done, she balanced them expertly on her lap and turned around, wheeling herself to the table where she gave Elphaba and Frex each a plate, keeping the last one for herself. 

Elphaba and her family ate in silence, as they did every morning. There was never much to say since every day was the same. Rarely was there anything new to add. Elphaba never knew whether she wanted these awkward family meals to end or not because, although she was in no hurry to get out on the water, she never particularly relished these moments, either. Everyday, when she listened to her father talking to Nessa about the tasks at the family booth that needed doing, she had to swallow down the jealousy that always seeped in at the thought of them safely on dry land while she was surrounded by a substance that would kill her if so much as an inch of her jumpsuit became frayed or torn. She knew it wasn’t Nessa’s fault, but seeing her talk to the other townspeople, laugh with them and form relationships while she was stuck on what amounted to little more than a death trap sent the resentment swelling within her. 

After breakfast, Nessa gathered their empty plates in her lap once more and brought them to the sink while Elphaba forced herself to her feet and adjusted the hood of her heavy jumpsuit with shaking hands. No matter how many times she went out into the ocean, forcing herself back into it never got any easier. She was just about to open the door and head the short distance to the dock where their fishing boat, The Defiance, was parked, when her sister’s voice called out from behind her, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Elphaba, wait up.” 

Elphaba paused, keeping her hand on the doorknob as Nessa came into view, her usual smile plastered on her normal, perfectly-colored face. “Mind if we head out together?” 

Even if she did, Elphaba certainly wasn’t about to say so. She spent most of her time alone, so she was secretly glad for the company, painful though it sometimes was. She knew it wasn’t Nessa’s fault for how things were, but it was easier to hold onto misplaced blame than face the reality that her situation was simply a result of simple happenstance; unfortunate circumstances that spiraled into each other to create the ultimate nightmare in which Elphaba found herself. 

It wasn’t Nessa’s fault that she’d been born too early; that her legs were underdeveloped and thus unable to hold her weight. It wasn’t Nessa’s fault their mother died while giving birth to her, having fallen asleep soon after the traumatic, complicated birth and then never waking up. 

And it certainly wasn’t Nessa’s fault that Elphaba had been born with green skin which, she assumed, gave her an allergy to the water their tiny island town was surrounded by, or that their father had suffered an unfortunate boating accident that left him without an arm, making it impossible for him to sail the family ship and work the equipment properly. 

None of it was Nessa’s fault. Or Frexspar’s, if Elphaba were truly honest with herself. Yet, sometimes, her anger needed an outlet, and her family was a convenient target. 

But she pushed all that aside as she kept pace with her younger sister, careful not to get ahead of her as they slowly made their way toward the center of town. 

The smell of fish pervaded the air, growing stronger the closer they came to the city square. Rush Margins was a small town, but large enough that it was easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle. Elphaba knew everyone, and everyone knew her, though most days that didn’t feel like a good thing. People stared at her, glaring at her for reasons she both couldn’t help and didn’t understand. Elphaba honestly didn’t know whether she preferred walking through town with or without the jumpsuit that covered her skin, but she supposed it didn’t matter since she garnered the stares either way. 

Nessa ignored the unwanted attention as they approached the heart of the square, her expression carefully blank as she maneuvered her chair expertly through the throng of people bustling about, making their way to their various jobs and daily tasks. Since Rush Margins was a fishing village off the coast of Munchkinland, most everyone dealt in fish in some way. Some, like Nessarose and Frexspar, ran a booth or a shop, selling their wares to merchants who’d buy the best of the offerings and take them back to the mainland. 

But most, like Elphaba, sailed the nearby ocean and caught the fish, bringing it back and selling them to the vendors in town before the day was out, only to go out and do it all again the next day. It was a tiring, thankless job that required absolutely no thought and minimal effort, and Elphaba hated it more than anything. The mundanity of it all sent her mind spinning in circles most days, but it was the fear that this would be her life, from now until the day she died, that made her want to run away and never look back.

“You’re quiet today,” Nessa observed as they approached the market. Her voice blended easily with the low chatter that buzzed around them, a sign that she belonged, whereas Elphaba most definitely did not. She kept her gaze ahead, though Elphaba noticed the way her dark eyes occasionally flicked in her direction from time to time, clearly gauging to see whether or not Elphaba was paying attention. 

Elphaba shrugged, even though Nessa couldn’t see it. Perhaps she was proving Nessa’s point, but there just wasn’t anything to say. They’d had this conversation several times, and the younger girl never liked to hear it. Whenever she caught even the slightest whiff of Elphaba’s dissatisfaction with her lot in life, she was quick to go on the defensive, reminding her at every turn just how much their family relied on her. It always set Elphaba’s teeth on edge to hear how desperate Nessa was to keep her here, and it grated on her that she had never managed to find the courage to break away from her family and do what she truly desired: to set off on her own and explore what the rest of Oz had to offer. 

“You’re the one who wanted to walk together,” Elphaba reminded her gently, careful to keep the bite out of her voice. Nessa never appreciated it, and the guilt that inevitably followed always made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Yes.” Nessa nodded as they rounded the corner, their family booth coming into view. Frexspar was already there, rolling out the worn sign that displayed their prices, as well as their hours of operations. By now the merchants knew what time the booths in the market opened, and everyone pretty much kept the same hours, mostly to keep the competition as fair and balanced as possible. Sometimes a villager would try to open early, but there was hardly any point because the merchants all arrived at the same time everyday. The ferry that took them to and from the mainland came and went like clockwork with little variability. They all arrived with bored, tired expressions as they went about their business, and it made Elphaba wonder if it was just their dreary little town, or if the rest of Oz was much the same. 

But she didn’t like to dwell on that uncomfortable thought. If this was all there was, it didn’t leave much hope that she’d fare better in any of the other quadrants of Oz.

Elphaba expected Nessa to continue on toward their booth, so she was surprised when the girl’s hand found hers through the sleeve of her suit, pausing where she was in the middle of the street. She looked down to find Nessa looking up at her for the first time, her usual warmth and brevity gone, replaced by a somberness that Elphaba rarely saw from her. It was enough to temporarily distract her from the task that lay ahead, and she scrutinized Nessa through the mesh slot of her zipped up hood. 

“Elphaba…I heard Father talking with the Woodsmans the other day,” Nessa began uneasily, casting her gaze around nervously as though afraid to be overheard. Elphaba found herself doing the same, though she needn’t have bothered. Everyone else circled around them as they bustled off to wherever it was they were going, acting as though Elphaba and her sister were simply part of the scenery. 

“What would he want with the Woodsmans?” Elphaba asked, her brow crinkling in confusion, even though Nessa couldn’t see it through the jumpsuit that covered her face. “They’re our biggest competitors. The only time he has something to say to them is if he thinks they’re trying to cut corners.”

“Yeah, well, he was definitely talking to them.” Nessa lowered her gaze and leaned in closer. Elphaba resisted the urge to bend down to her level, even though it would’ve been the polite thing to do. Bending down in the suit was a pain, both literally and figuratively. Getting down was a chore, but pulling herself back up was nearly impossible without having to use both of her hands to push her up as though she were an unsteady infant just learning to walk. No, she’d be able to hear Nessa just fine from her standing height. 

But if Nessa appeared bothered, she didn’t show it as she went on quietly, “From what I heard, they were making some kind of deal. Your name was brought up, along with their son’s.”

Elphaba’s heart sank even lower in her chest. She could practically feel it beating all the way in her stomach. She could think of only one reason why her name and Boq’s would be spoken in the same breath, and it certainly didn’t mean anything good. She almost told Nessa not to say anything more, because she didn’t know if she could bear having her suspicions confirmed aloud, but she didn’t stop Nessa when the girl took her silence as acquiescence to continue. 

“They didn’t talk long,” Nessa continued, casting yet another glance toward their family’s booth. Frexspar didn’t seem to have taken any notice of his daughters, but Elphaba knew it was only a matter of time until he did. Neither of them were exactly inconspicuous, after all. “There was none of their usual animosity, though they weren’t exactly smiling, either. But I saw a few gold pieces exchange hands, and then I heard…” 

Nessa trailed off and lowered her gaze down to her lap, wringing her hands nervously, as though she regretted even bringing the subject up. 

Elphaba waited for her to continue, though when it was clear the younger girl wasn’t going to, she took a deep breath and forced out on the exhale, “You heard what?”

She tried keeping her impatience at bay, but knowing what was about to be said, coupled with her inevitable journey back into an ocean that would kill her if given half a chance, sapped what little restraint she had left. 

Nessa swallowed visibly as her gaze flitted back up at Elphaba and frowned, even though she couldn’t see Elphaba’s expression through her hood. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she continued wringing her hands, twisting the skin and rubbing her knuckles so hard that Elphaba was afraid that the bones would bend and snap right in half.

“There was talk of marriage.”

Hearing it confirmed sent a shiver down Elphaba’s spine. Her vision grew spotty and her head swam, though she wasn’t sure if that was from the devastating news or the heavy jumpsuit that was practically a furnace underneath the blazing morning sun. It wasn’t going to get any cooler, though she’d find some relief once she was out in the open water. She swayed slightly on her feet, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. If it hadn’t been for Nessa’s steady hand reaching out and holding her in place, Elphaba was sure she would’ve collapsed then and there. 

“Elphaba! Are you okay?”

No. She was most certainly not okay. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be okay again. Marrying Boq Woodsman—or any boy in town–-was the equivalent of a death sentence as far as she was concerned. If she thought she’d been trapped before, it was nothing compared to the prospect of being tied to two families in town; families who had lived in Rush Margins far longer than anyone could remember.  

Glancing over at the Woodsmans’ booth, which was only a few down from their own, she watched as Mr. and Mrs. Woodsman began setting up for the day. Their curly orange hair set them apart from the rest of the crowd, as did their smaller frames and slight builds. Mr. Woodsman was stocky, his muscles refined from his time spent out on the water. He’d long since passed those duties off to Boq and a small crew he’d hired to help out because, unlike the Thropps, he could afford employees. Mrs. Woodsman was petite, smaller than most of the other woman in town, and might’ve been pretty if it wasn’t for the permanent frown affixed upon her pale face.

She turned and found the Thropp sisters, and that frown only deepened as she raked her gaze over Elphaba’s fully covered form, her lip curling distastefully.  

“I’m fine,” Elphaba mumbled as she looked away, drawing herself up to her full height and prying her gaze away from the Woodsmans and their booth. There would be plenty of time to worry and obsess over this jolting revelation later. “But I do need to go. I’m already late enough as it is.”

Nessa looked as though she had more to say, but Elphaba pretended not to notice as she spun on her heel and hurried away, not bothering to say goodbye. 

Elphaba forced herself to clear her mind during her short, lonely walk to the docks. She would only drive herself crazy if she continued to dwell on the bombshell her sister had just dropped in her lap. Instead, she ran through her safety drills, as she did everyday before she was about to set sail. She mouthed the words quietly to herself, ignoring the dark looks the townspeople threw her as she passed, growing more hostile the closer she got to the docks. 

Her heart began to jackhammer in her chest as soon as they came into view, as it did every day when her gaze found the family boat. The Defiance was old and rundown, but still somehow sailed despite its many problems. Frexspar always claimed that he’d shell out the money for the repairs, but since the boat still ran and floated on the water, he didn’t see the rush, which left Elphaba with little choice but to make it work. 

The uneasy thought stayed with her as she approached the wooden walkway that led out to the small port where The Defiance waited, along with a handful of other fishing boats. She didn’t miss the stares of those she passed, most of whom were older men who glared at her as though her mere presence offended them. She’d long since learned to ignore them, though the lingering resentment remained. 

Her stomach flipped when she saw a group of locals idling by The Defiance as she approached. One of them, a small, beefy man with a balding head and upturned nose, nodded at the others when she came into view, and the rest of the group turned as one to face her with thinly veiled hostility. 

Elphaba bit back the insults that sprouted in her mind, even as her stomach did a somersault in her gut at the very real possibility of a confrontation. Usually, despite the weathered reactions she received from the townspeople because of her otherness, they’d limited their hostility to simply that. Looks, a snide comment when they thought she couldn’t hear, or sometimes a bump on the shoulder if they were feeling particularly brave, but as awful they always made her feel, the jibes always small enough that she was able to deal with it. 

What she could not handle, however, was a full blown confrontation between four fully grown men, all of whom looked as though they’d love nothing more than to throw her into the ocean. 

But she forced herself to to speak first, trying not to show just how worried their lingering presence worried her. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

None of them gave a reply. Not that Elphaba expected one. She was suddenly grateful for her heavy jumpsuit because it allowed her to hide her shaking hands and the disdainful expression that she was sure had crossed her face. She eyed them warily, even though they couldn’t see her, and hopped on the boat, passing in front of them as quickly as possible. 

She began undoing the rigging that kept The Defiance to the dock, hoping that the men would take the hint and walk away, but they remained where they stood, staring at her openly.  

Elphaba held her breath as she finished undocking The Defiance, waiting silently for her unwanted companions to disperse, glancing around hopefully for anyone around who might come to her aid should she need it. 

Unfortunately, the docks were empty except for them.

“Do you mind moving out of the–” Elphaba began, but she was cut off by a sudden, high-pitched melody that pierced the tense silence around them. 

Elphaba snapped her head toward the open ocean. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought the song was coming from that direction. She held her breath, but not before her stomach jumped into her throat when the melody came again, this time louder and more keening than before. 

It was the only word to describe it. There was a desperate, pleading note to it, with an otherworldly quality entwined within, sounding both human and…not. But that wasn’t possible, was it? She’d heard the rumors of the sirens that supposedly haunted these waters, despite no one ever having seen one before. 

Sometimes, when Elphaba had been younger and her father had taken her out to sea before his accident, back when he’d begun training her in the family business, Elphaba would cautiously peer over the side of the boat, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious, elusive creatures. She’d never seen one, and had never known whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Now that she was older, she knew the rumors for what they were, and always rolled her eyes whenever the subject came up. 

“There she goes again,” one of the men laughed, speaking for the first time. “She sounds pained.”

“Who?” Elphaba asked before she could stop herself, then immediately chastised herself for her curiosity. She knew these men were looking for a reaction in her, and now that she’d given it to them, it would be that much harder to get rid of them. 

“The Siren of Gillikin,” the second man scoffed, as though she’d just asked what color the sky was. “The meanest, fiercest creature to ever roam these seas.”

“Who?” Elphaba asked before she could stop herself. 

The other men turned to face her, gawking, leaving Elphaba grateful once more for her concealed face. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hide her amusement at their puzzled expressions, though they didn’t last long as one of the men frowned and retorted, “Don’t tell me you haven’t been hearing about the Siren of Gillikin?”

He said it as though it should’ve been obvious. And maybe it was, but Elphaba sure wouldn’t know. Conversation died whenever Elphaba came too close. It was something she’d long since grown used to, yet it stung whenever abrupt silences greeted her wherever she went. 

But Elphaba shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and hoped it would be enough for the men to be on their way as she began prepping The Defiance to set sail. Frexspar had left little doubt in her mind about the sincerity of his earlier threat, but the chance to speak to people other than her family–despite his earlier threats about kicking her out if she returned empty-handed–was too enticing to ignore. 

“Should I know what that is?” Elphaba asked as she pulled herself up to her full height, staring at the group of men who continued glowering at her, as though her lack of knowledge personally offended them. 

“They say the Siren used to be human once,” one of the other men began, his voice lowering conspiratorially as though he was about to let Elphaba in on a great secret. “They say she went mad with grief after the death of her lover and refused to leave the shore. Supposedly, her cries were heard for miles around, luring unsuspecting fishermen to their deaths. Her tears were so many and so great her skin became coated in them, turning it smooth and luminescent.”

“And her tail?” Elphaba asked, unable to help herself now. “If she was human once, how did she come to grow a tail?”

“They say she spent so much time by the sea that when she went for a swim one day, her tail simply appeared,” the man replied, not missing a beat. “She disappeared into the ocean, and no one’s seen her since. The only ones who have are drawn to her lovely Siren call, only to find death awaiting them instead.”

Silence followed this declaration. Elphaba couldn’t help her inadvertent glance toward the ocean, and the haunting song that had emanated from it only moments ago. The air grew quiet and still once more, but the lingering melody continued to echo in her ears, playing on a loop in her mind, until she wasn’t sure whether she remembered it or had simply imagined it all. 

“Well,” she finally said in what she hoped was a sturdy voice. “If all you’ve got for proof are a bunch of stories told by men who were lured to their deaths and thus couldn’t possibly have confirmed any of this to be true, I guess there’s not much for me to worry about. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

The men chuckled as they finally began ambling away, though the one who’d last spoken lingered behind and threw her a surprisingly cautious glance. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss this,” he warned as he flicked his gaze from her hooded form to the ocean beyond. Any traces of humor had fled from his face, replaced by something much darker that Elphaba had neither the time nor desire to think about. She was late enough as it was. 

“Thanks for the warning,” she said with an air of finality, unmooring her boat from the dock and starting up the old engine. It groaned in complaint, but after a few hiccups it managed to splutter on. Elphaba hoped the man would take the hint and walk away, but to her dismay he lingered, watching her progress as she slowly began steering the boat out to sea. 

“Be careful!” he called, his voice carrying through the wind. “They say the Siren won’t stop until she catches her prey!”

Elphaba said nothing as she forced down the growing lump in her throat. She didn’t have time to let silly superstitions and fairy stories get in the way of her job. Her family was counting on her and she wasn’t about to let them down. 

Even if they let her down on a daily basis. 

Her anxiety only grew the further out to sea she went, The Defiance roaring along at a steady pace as the water sloshed around them. The port of Rush Margins grew smaller and smaller with every passing minute, though she liked to keep it in view whenever she could, just to reassure herself that she would be back on land soon enough. No matter how many times she sailed out to sea, she could never bring herself to let the tiny fishing village disappear from view entirely. 

The clouds swirling above in the sky grew darker and more foreboding as the morning carried on. Elphaba kept a close eye on them as she finally found a spot that was far enough out to stand a chance of gathering a sufficient amount of fish while still keeping the little speck that was Rush Margins in view. She let the boat idle as she began her arduous task of lowering the large net into the ocean that would, hopefully, begin catching the fish that she would then take back to her father and sister to sell at market. 

She’d long since grown used to completing this job alone, though it would go much quicker and would be a lot easier with one other person. Elphaba prided herself on being an independent person who didn’t need the company of others to sustain herself, but even she had to admit that this lonely, menial job would be much more pleasant with someone to distract her from her anxious thoughts. 

She always liked to think that her coworker, whoever that may be, would be okay with her sitting back, staying far away from the edges of the boat in order to avoid any water that might drip in, while they did most of the work that would haul in their catch. Elphaba would help where she could–she wasn’t looking to get out of her duties completely–but having someone who was willing to step in and handle what posed the most danger to Elphaba would make the job so much easier and settle most of her nerves. 

But she pushed away those fantasies since they wouldn’t help her now. If she could wish her desires into existence, she wouldn’t even be on this boat. She would be on her way to Shiz, where she would major in Animal Studies, meet like-minded people and maybe even find a friend or two, and live the rest of her life as far away from Rush Margins and the ocean as possible. 

If she never saw a drop of water again, it would be too soon.

As she began turning the lever that would cast the net out into the sea, a low rumble of thunder sounded in the far off distance, causing her to jump and let go of the lever. The net slammed into the sea with a thick, heavy splash that sprayed the floor of The Defiance. Elphaba couldn’t help the small squeal that escaped her lips, her heart hammering in her chest as the clouds ahead grew darker and loomed ever closer. 

Get a grip, Elphaba mentally chided herself as she sucked in some deep breaths and grabbed the lever once more, sending the net into the ocean once more. 

She lowered the line until there was nowhere left for it to go. Once she reached the end, she locked the lever into place and chanced a glance over the edge of the boat in the hopes of finding a group of fish swimming nearby. Spotting her quarry always settled her unease, even if only a little, because it meant that she was that much closer to finishing the job and getting herself out of this infernal ocean. Schools of fish were good, even if her proximity to the water was not. 

Unfortunately, there was nothing. At least, nothing she could see. Sometimes the fish swam deep enough in the water that it was impossible for her to spot them, especially given her limited access to the sea, though she knew they were there.

But the storm clouds ahead and the increased rumblings of thunder that surrounded her from all directions brought her patience down to zero. She could smell the rain on the horizon, its musty scent permeating the air along with another rumble of thunder, this one deeper and much, much closer. 

“C’mon,” Elphaba mumbled under her breath as she chanced another look over the side of The Defiance. The net was too far down for her to properly see anything, but she’d done this enough times in her life to know that she needed to pull it up now, before any fish she’d managed to catch had a chance to swim away. 

So, checking to make sure once again that every inch of her skin was covered by her jumpsuit and gloves to protect against the rain that would surely be coming down any second now, Elphaba grabbed the lever and began turning it the opposite way to bring it back up. 

CRACK!

Elphaba was suddenly on the floor of the boat as it was jolted by a rough wave. Her shoulder took most of the impact as she crashed to the ground, finding herself perilously close to a growing puddle of water. She hastily brought her foot up before her boot could make contact with the dangerous element. She wasn’t about to take any chances, especially not in the midst of a storm that was only worsening by the minute. 

She managed to get herself to her feet, though The Defiance rocked treacherously from side to side as the water grew steadily choppier, the waves becoming rougher with every pull of the tide. How was it possible for a storm to close in so fast? Did Lurline or the Unnamed God sense her dissatisfaction with her lot in life and decide to intervene and punish her for it? 

Elphaba only managed to take a single step before another crack of thunder sounded, this one loud enough to seem as though it originated right above her. The air grew even heavier, the pungent, misty odor of the oncoming rain growing stronger with every breath she took. The clouds were somehow right overhead now, threatening to break right above her. Her heart was in her throat, her legs frozen despite the heavy sloshing of the boat, caught in the relentless waves and powerless to do anything to stop it. 

There was nothing else for it. Unless she planned on dying out here–and Elphaba really didn’t plan on that–she would just have to abandon the sea and hope she could make it back in time. 

She reached into the emergency pack tucked into a hidden compartment on the floor of the boat and pulled out the dagger she kept in case of emergencies, clutching the handle as tightly as she could in her grip, which only grew slicker with every step she took. Her nerves felt like a knotted tangle of wires looped around her body as she forced her feet to move, unable to help the uneasy glances up at the darkening sky overhead. There wasn’t much distance between the hatch and the the lever that controlled the net, but between her mounting anxiety and the steady rumbling of thunder that, combined with the dark clouds looming above, promised a torrential storm, Elphaba felt as though she were crossing the Deadly Desert with nothing but a paddle. 

But somehow she made it, even though her legs felt like jelly and her heart was one beat away from jumping out of her chest. Her hands shook, her fingers fumbling with the knife as she fought to cut through the rope keeping the net attached to The Defiance. 

The rope was thick and unyielding, and despite the knife’s sharpness, it had also been dulled over the years from constant use. Elphaba tried keeping it sharp since it was used to slice through the fish that were brought up, and Elphaba had brought up countless fish during her begrudging career. 

She caught the first drop of rain on her glove after she’d been hacking away at the netting for what felt like forever. She hissed, biting her lip as she triple-checked her jumpsuit, making sure it still covered her skin. Was that a burning in her hand, or was that just her imagination? She hacked at the net quicker, her urgency making her sloppy, and more than once she nearly cut through the thick material of her glove, which only served to increase the burning she was convinced lurked underneath her coverings. 

Another wave threatened to push The Defiance further out to sea, the rain coming down harder, causing her to drop the knife to the ground. She gasped, but didn’t have time to react further as the boat lurched against the coming wave, dumping water inside the deck, splashing across her heavy boots. 

She flinched as she ducked to avoid the worst of it, spotting the glint of the knife through her squinted eyes. When she grabbed it, she didn’t hesitate, raising herself to her feet and resuming her frantic cutting of the net. 

Rush Margins was blinded from her view by the time she finally cut the net free, causing The Defiance to lurch violently forward, only stopping from capsizing at the last minute when it became caught in another wave. Elphaba suddenly found herself and the boat spinning dangerously in circles, caught in both the tide and the storm which had finally unleashed the heavy, frigid rain down upon her. 

Elphaba bit her lip to keep from screaming as she grabbed onto whatever she could to remain upright. Her jumpsuit was thick enough to protect her from the dangers of the seemingly innocuous element, but it would only hold out so far. It was not impervious to the magnitude in which Elphaba now found herself trapped. She’d seen storms come in quickly, but none had developed this swiftly before, at least not that she could remember. 

Her shaking, gloved hands caught on the rigging as the boat was pulled into another wave, dipping back and forth so rapidly that if it wasn’t for her strong grip, she would’ve fallen straight into the ocean’s bottomless depths. 

She couldn’t help it; she screamed as The Defiance rocked back and forth, pulled further out into the ocean, away from the safety of Rush Margins and the people who, despite never making her feel comfortable and accepted, had at least kept her safe against the storms whenever they pelted the mainland. If Frex had known the storm was coming, or known just how strong and fierce it would be, he would’ve canceled the job for the day and made do with what they still had left to sell. Elphaba knew it didn’t come out of any lingering parental affection for her, but rather his lack of options, but she chose to believe there was still some part of him, deep down, that recognized her as his daughter and wanted to treat her as such. 

The roar of the sea and the crashing waves around her nearly drowned out everything else, including her worsening thoughts as she held on to the rigging, begging and praying to Lurline and the Unnamed God to end the storm and bring her safely home. She was drenched in water–or, at least, her jumpsuit was–and she couldn’t get a firm grasp on anything other than the rigging. She tried pulling herself to her feet, but the deck of the boat was far too slippery and wet for her to gain any traction, so she continued to flop around like the fish she no longer had any hope of catching. 

Please, Elphaba begged silently to whoever might’ve been listening. Please, let this be over with soon.

That’s when she heard it. The most haunting, lyrical song that came out of nowhere, cutting through the crashing and roaring of the thunder and heavy waves around her, filling her ears with the most unexpected melody. 

Elphaba latched on to it, desperate to drown out everything else, including her rising panic that increased with every hiccuping gasp of breath she took. The story she’d been told back on the docks returned to her in a rush, but Elphaba no longer cared. If she was going to die in this storm, she wanted to have one last pleasant memory to take with her, even if it was a supposed siren’s call meant to lure her to her death. 

Well, she was going to die anyway, so what did it matter? 

The song grew louder and somehow more beautiful as The Defiance continued sloshing through the water, spinning uncontrollably across the choppy waves and through the rain that had grown relentless and sharp. Darkness surrounded her, and she’d long since lost her bearings. Any bearing she might’ve had disappeared in the storm, but Elphaba didn’t have the strength to focus on that. She only allowed the song of the sea to consume her, comforting her through what were surely her last moments, making her feel less alone, somehow. 

And then…a sight that shouldn’t have been possible. 

A flash of long, golden blonde hair, followed by deep brown eyes that seemed to glow in the penetrating darkness. 

Then a flicker of lightning, followed by a heavy roar of thunder, and when Elphaba blinked, the visions were gone.  

Was she going crazy? 

The boat continued spinning, and Elphaba no longer knew which way was up. Her fingers began to slip on the rigging, but there was nothing she could do about it since her feet couldn’t find purchase on the deck of the boat below. All she could do was hold on as tightly as possible and pray that, when the water finally slipped in through her thick jumpsuit, the inevitable agony of burning alive would be quick. 

But she never had the chance to find out, because a sudden gust of wind sent The Defiance flying over the cresting waves, sending it effortlessly across the water as though it were a child’s toy spinning across a slippery surface. Elphaba screamed again, clenching her eyes shut against the rain and the growing emptiness of the vast ocean surrounding her from all sides. 

When she mustered up the courage to open her eyes again a moment later, she reeled back in shock at the sight in front of her. 

It was a woman, but not. Her long blonde hair flowed effortlessly around her, grazing her bare, scaly shoulders, acting as a beacon against the surmounting darkness. Her wide, brown doe eyes shimmered impossibly as she glaring at Elphaba, reaching a webbed hand toward the hood of Elphaba’s jumpsuit. 

Elphaba jerked back, scrambling away, but the not-woman followed, her mouth opening as the beginnings of that familiar melody began flowing past her lips.

La la, lalalala…

“No!” Elphaba hissed as she kicked her foot out at the strange creature’s direction. The thing reeled back to avoid the contact and lunged back in the water, the ensuing splash threatening to engulf her. She slid back to get away from the inevitable contact, but her boots slipped on the wet ground below, and then she was on the ground just as the splash crashed straight into The Defiance, most of which ended up on the deck. 

Elphaba screamed as she fought to scramble away from the water, but the boat sloshed uncontrollably over the choppy waves. She was right in the center of the storm now, so even if she did somehow manage to avoid the splash, there was no avoiding the rest of it. She prayed her jumpsuit would hold out, because there was no way she would survive this otherwise. 

Somehow, she managed to catch the wheel right before she went down. Her fingers clamped down as hard as she could through the glove, and she hoisted herself up as much as she was able, but it proved to be a lot harder due to the water quickly rushing inside, the aftereffects of both the splash from the strange creature and the rain pouring in. 

Elphaba tried turning the wheel, but either her fingers were too clumsy, or her precarious position didn’t allow for proper steering, because all she managed to do was hoist herself up to her feet just in time to see the large chunk of land right in front of her, a large tree appearing out of nowhere. 

She screamed just as The Defiance crashed onto the sand, the front rising in the air from the force of the crash, and then Elphaba lost her grip and flew through the air once more, before finally crashing hard on something decidedly solid below. 

She caught a brief flash of golden blonde hair, and then she knew no more. 

Glinda made sure to contort her body to create as large of a wave as possible the moment she hit the water. Her head spun and her mind reeled as she swam through the storm toward the hidden island she’d called home for the past…honestly, she didn’t even know anymore. 

Despite the torrential rain falling down from the dark sky, Glinda’s vision was perfectly clear, allowing her to easily spot the familiar boulder just off the mainland that she often used as a perch. It afforded her enough privacy so as not to be easily visible from the mainland, but close enough that she had a perfect view of the ocean and the ships that so often sailed right by. Sometimes Glinda wondered whether the island was visible to them, because they never even slowed down as they approached, though she supposed that was a good thing. 

It kept her safe haven just that. Safe. 

Now, though…all that was about to change. 

Glinda hopped onto the boulder, using her tail as a springboard and her arms to balance herself as she turned and sat on her tailbone, keeping the boat in view as she hastily brushed her blonde hair out of her face, the bangles around her wrists sliding against her slender wrist. Her gaze immediately fell on the quickly approaching vessel and the mysterious creature that was seconds away from getting flung out of its deck. Glinda watched, fascinated, as the creature held onto the steering wheel as though it were a lifeline. 

Both it and the boat, however, were no match for the raging storm, choppy water and rising current they were caught in, and soon enough the boat became caught in a large wave that was, to Glinda’s dismay, headed right for her. She watched and waited, hoping that the tide might steer both unwanted things away from her sanctuary but, as usual, her prayers went unanswered. 

The boat caught on a wave, sending its bow straight up in the air. The creature tried desperately to hang on, but it was no match for gravity, and soon its tentative grip on the wheel loosened and it went flying, caught up in the storm like a loose piece of debris, at the mercy of the elements. 

Glinda watched, her stomach twisting, as the creature flew higher than should’ve been possible before finally landing in a secluded patch of sand, its head only feet away from a small rock. It lay prone where it landed, unmoving. 

Glinda held her breath and bit her lip as she continued to watch, waiting for the creature to move or give some sign that it was alive. But it stayed where it was, as still as the boat it had crashed in on now was. 

Glinda was torn. Her mind spun with possibilities, each of them as nerve-wracking and unlikely as the next. Her song bubbled up inside her throat, on the tip of her tongue, ready to be unleashed upon the creature to see if that would wake it up. The song had never, not once, failed her in the many years she’d been stuck in this condition. No person had ever been able to resist it’s allure. 

Until now.

And yet…Glinda wasn’t sure that the thing in front of her was a person. There was a distinctive head and body that was shaped like one, but they were so different from that of other humans. Glinda couldn’t make out a face, or even ears, which was what was required in order for her song to work. 

So…maybe she couldn’t use her song. At least not yet. But should she leave the thing there and hope it woke up? Or…maybe not. This island was her sanctuary, and Glinda didn’t want it disturbed. Once the humans knew about it, they would take it over and use it for their own purposes, and Glinda would be forced to find a new place to call home. It had happened before, and she was under no delusions that it wouldn’t happen again. 

Only…that didn’t feel right, either. There was something about this creature that made her want to go over and check on it. See if it was okay. Which didn’t make any sense, because Glinda hated humans. She wanted them all to die; it was no less than they deserved, after all. Humans were treacherous, disgusting creatures who cheated, lied, and manipulated in order to get their way, and discarded those who didn’t suit their purposes. 

Glinda should know. 

But no. She couldn’t afford to think about that right now. Her vengeance could wait a little longer, because she had a situation in front of her. 

Because that was just it, wasn’t it? Maybe this creature wasn’t human. That would certainly explain why she was drawn to it in a way she hadn’t been drawn to another being in…well, forever. And she didn’t know what to do with that. 

Almost as though her body had come to a decision without her brain’s consent, Glinda tossed her wet blonde hair behind her shoulder and was about to jump off the boulder when the creature suddenly moved. 

She ducked down instinctively, letting the cover of the trees and the rain that continued to pelt down hide her from view. She kept her gaze locked on the creature as it turned from its belly to lay on its back, its movements slow and unsteady. Well, at least it wasn’t dead…but did Glinda want it alive? 

Sing! The voice in the back of her head commanded, as it always did whenever she encountered another human. No, being, Glinda quickly corrected herself. She still wasn’t convinced this creature was human despite its familiar silhouette. 

The creature groaned, causing Glinda to lower herself even more, so that her chest was touching the cold granite of the boulder. Her ears perked up at the sound. Despite the relentless rain that continued pouring down around her, Glinda could hear everything clearly. She supposed it was a perk of being a siren, although there certainly weren’t many of her kind. But she pushed that to the back of her mind as she kept her gaze trained on the thing in front of her.

She knew she ought to leave. Get away before she could be seen. Living in secrecy and shadows was how she’d survived all these years. It had kept her alive more times than she could count. But something about this…creature, this thing…kept her where she was, unable to move or look away. She felt powerless in its orbit, and she had no idea why. She wasn’t used to being the victim. She hadn’t been a victim in quite some time and didn’t plan on becoming one ever again. 

She told herself it was her curiosity and fascination that kept her closer to this creature than she’d ever been to another living being without the intent to sing to it in…as long as she could remember. It certainly wasn’t because of the painful loneliness that rose up at the most random, inconvenient times and threatened to devour her from the inside out. 

It definitely wasn’t because this creature had somehow resisted her song. The song that was supposed to be irresistible. 

The creature groaned again, then reached a hand up to its head, using its other to feel around. Glinda kept herself low to the ground but did not otherwise move. She watched the creature lower its touch down to its neck, chest, then to the other arm, as though looking or feeling for something. Maybe broken bones? Glinda didn’t know. Nor did she understand why it didn’t just get up. Why would it want to just lay there, in the dirty sand while a torrential storm came down around it? 

Unless…it couldn’t get up. It had landed pretty hard, after all. Maybe it did have broken bones, and its weird protective casing, or whatever it was, prevented Glinda from seeing it. Well…that was just too bad. Because Glinda most certainly wasn’t about to touch it, or drag it to a place where the rain wasn’t coming down so hard. If she were human, she would’ve long since found shelter somewhere against this storm that showed no signs of stopping. But if she couldn’t, she would want someone to help her. But…that went against everything Glinda was. 

She was meant for destruction, not deliverance. 

The creature groaned again, its voice a little clearer. 

A little more pained. 

Glinda heard it as clearly as she heard the rain that continued coming down. And, to both her surprise and horror, it stirred something within her–something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was something she’d long thought to be lost within her, maybe even gone entirely. 

She wanted…to save this creature. This strange, unusual, bizarre thing in front of her made her want to rescue it. 

Glinda glanced around, as though she expected someone or something to jump out at her. Maybe the face she still saw in her worst dreams that haunted her and rarely gave her a moment’s peace. She checked to make sure the creature wasn’t paying attention or looking in her direction, then slowly made her way off the boulder and toward it, keeping her Song on the edge of her throat, just in case she needed it. 

She didn’t let herself think about how the creature had somehow resisted it back on the boat. When it had turned away and kicked her instead of willingly coming toward her, where it should’ve been lured to its death. 

She slithered on the ground like some kind of half-serpent, her tail brushing lazily against the sand as she pulled herself along on her arms, the familiar disgust making its way through her body, down to her psyche, as it always did whenever she was reminded that she lacked the legs she so desired and missed terribly. 

Part of her expected the creature to stir at her presence. Most humans seemed to have a knack for knowing whenever she was nearby, like some dormant sense of self-preservation. But this creature might not be human, Glinda quickly reminded herself as she slowly came upon the strangely shaped thing. It was too busy trying to scoot back on its haunches to notice her. 

Maybe it was the sound of the rain that masked her approach, or maybe the creature was in too much pain or discomfort. Either way, Glinda made her approach easily. She could’ve reached out and touched it–possibly even grabbed it and taken it out to sea–and there wouldn’t have been a thing the creature could do to stop it. It would be only too easy, and yet something stopped her. 

Glinda paused when she was right behind the thing’s head, keeping out of its line of sight while she studied it like some foreign specimen. 

She held out her hand, letting her fingers graze the top of its head where the creature couldn’t see. It had stopped moving, though Glinda had no idea why. She wondered for a moment if maybe it had finally succumbed to whatever injuries it had sustained when it had been flung from the crash. 

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

What she did know was how soft the creature’s head was. Whatever material or substance it was made out of caused the water to slide right off. Glinda had never seen such a thing before. It didn’t stick to any part of the creature, from its head down to its feet. It just slid off the way a rock might slide down a canyon wall: easily and naturally. 

Glinda leaned in closer, examining it carefully, her eyes squinting against the rain that most certainly did not slide off her. At least, not in the way it did on the creature in front of her. 

Maybe once the thing was well and truly dead, Glinda could take its skin and use it in times like these, when the rain threatened to drown even her. Maybe it would help her to stay hidden when she was luring unsuspecting sailors to their deaths…she was already pretty good at hiding but…

The creature shot up without warning, its upper half now perpendicular to the ground. Glinda brought her hand back and tried slinking into the shadows, or the cover of trees, but her companion turned around before Glinda could so much as move, and she found herself once more staring into its eyes. 

Well, not quite. 

But she’d definitely captured its attention because it tried scrambling away, kicking up sand and mud in its wake. It didn’t get very far before it abruptly stopped, clutching its side with one hand, hunched over in what Glinda could only assume was pain. 

She cocked her head and opened her mouth, prepared to let her melody slip out and envelop whatever this thing was in front of her. She wanted the Song’s familiarity to soak up this sudden trepidation, because Glinda certainly didn’t know what to do with it. Maybe if the creature truly listened to the Song and let the Song in–because that’s what the Song was supposed to do; entice her victim and wrap it up in deceiving warmth so that it had no choice but to open itself up and invite the Song in–then Glinda could relax, and she could put this bizarre fascination to bed 

But, instead of relaxing as the Song took effect, the opposite seemed to happen. The creature scrambled back again, a new sense of urgency in its movements that hadn’t been there before. Glinda hunched down again, her hackles raised, as the creature grabbed a handful of sand in its hand and threw it at her. 

“D-Don’t move!” 

Glinda reeled back, stunned, as a shriek replaced the Song. She glared at the creature as she fought to brush the sand out of her blonde locks, and opened her mouth to hiss at it, only for more sand to end up in her mouth. 

This time Glinda shrieked again, spitting the sand out, coughing and spluttering as she tried crawling back, away from this creature who did not act the way it was supposed to. It was supposed to fall under her Song’s spell. It was supposed to be rendered helpless, frozen, while Glinda took it and pulled it down to the depths of the ocean, where she could pretend, just for a while, that she didn’t have to be alone anymore. 

“Stay back!” the creature hissed again, it’s voice stronger now.

And much, much more human. 

Glinda coughed again and met the creature’s gaze. Or, at least, she thought she did, though it was impossible to tell since she couldn’t see its eyes, and glared with as much hostility as she could muster. 

“I’m trying!” she croaked, her voice raspy and hard from disuse. Her voice has only had one purpose in these long, lonely years: to sing her Song. She’s never had to actually speak, because who would she talk to? The humans who fell prey to her Song were no longer in a state to talk once she was through with them, so she mostly remained quiet. It suited her; she’d long since grown used to it. 

But now, having someone in front of her who not only resisted the call of her Song but glared at her as though she were a mere inconvenience rather than a fearsome creature straight out of the storybooks, was something Glinda didn’t know what to do with. 

“You are trespassing on my island!” she continued, wiping her mouth with the back of her scaly hand, cursing her ill fortune at finding the one person–or thing–that could resist her. She longed to return to the ocean to find someone else who she could drag underneath the water, but that would be impossible in this current storm. 

Unless someone else was as stupid as this creature and sailed in the storm anyway. But she doubted it. 

“Your island?” the creature asked, disbelief evident in its tone as it tried getting to its feet. It didn’t make it very far before it tumbled back on its rear, earning a muttered curse and groan for its efforts. 

“Yes,” Glinda snapped, unable to help herself. Most of the sand was out of her mouth now, but she longed to return to the sea and wash any remaining traces away, both of the sand and this infuriating creature who continued glaring at her as if she were the problem. “And I would appreciate it if you would take your leave as soon as possible.”

The creature glared at her–or at least, Glinda thought it did. It was impossible to tell from its lack of eyes–for a moment longer before letting out an unmistakable chuckle. “You’d appreciate it?” 

Glinda froze, unsure what else to do. Luckily, she didn’t have to do anything because the creature continued before she could form a suitable response. “What kind of creature are you?”

Glinda frowned, her indignance refusing to be ignored a moment longer. “I could say the same thing about you!” she snapped, bringingherself up to her full height. “And I’m not a creature, I’ll have you know.”

I’m a person, she longed to say, but held her tongue. Because it simply wasn’t true, no matter how much she wished it to be. 

Even though the creature didn’t speak, Glinda could feel its penetrating gaze raking over her body, lingering on her scaly skin, webbed fingers, and gray, slimy tail that Glinda had the sudden urge to hide for some reason. 

“You look like one to me.”

Glinda flinched, though she tried hiding it by shifting where she was and tossed another strand of her now tangled blonde hair behind her shoulder. 

She covered her unease as best she could and glared back at the thing in front of her, shooting back with as much venom as she could: “And just what might you be?”

The creature hesitated, though it did finally manage to get to its feet. Glinda wished that it hadn’t; she didn’t like the sudden advantage it had in height, nor the added benefit of legs. Glinda tried raising herself up to her full height, but she didn’t get very far, and now she had to crane her head to look at the thing’s head. 

It gave away too much power, and that didn’t sit well with her at all. 

So Glinda opened her mouth and let her Song slip out between her lips once more. She didn’t hesitate; she simply let the melody flow, somehow louder than the rain that continued to relentlessly come down all around them. 

La La, Lalalala…

“What are you doing?” 

The Song stopped, and Glinda’s eyes shot open to meet the creature’s who, she was startled to notice, now towered right above her, only a foot away. Glinda could’ve reached out and touched its leg if she wanted, but her hand was frozen in place. She fought the urge to crawl back, unwilling to cede any more ground to this thing, especially since the ground belonged to her. This whole island did, and Glinda did not appreciate the company, despite the aching loneliness that itched at her constantly. 

“What are you doing?” Glinda threw back. “Don’t you have a boat to go back to?”

“Yes, but I can hardly sail in these conditions.”

“It didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“It wasn’t raining then.”

“Well, don’t let that stop you. Begone, before I finish what I started.”

“And just what was that?”

Glinda opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She stared at the creature, multiple responses swirling around in her head, just waiting to be let loose. 

Instead, the many sharp retorts were held back, replaced by a question Glinda hadn’t even known she’d meant to ask. “Don’t you know what I am?”

The creature didn’t respond, and Glinda wanted to take that for the win it surely was. Instead, she found herself gazing up at the thing, waiting for its response like she somehow cared what it was going to say. 

Sweet Oz, what was wrong with her? 

The creature did eventually speak, the strangely human voice stronger than the rain falling down around them. “I…don’t really know what to think.” 

Glinda stared at her for a moment longer, then turned away with a sigh and hopped back up on her boulder. She wasn’t as graceful as she usually was, but at least it put her on the same height as this creature. 

She simply didn’t know what to make of it. 

What she really wanted to do was go back in the ocean, but the idea of leaving her island to the mercy of a stranger didn’t sit well with her. She would have no way of knowing whether the thing actually left or simply found somewhere to hole up and hide, waiting until Glinda returned so she could attack or catch her off guard somehow. 

But she wasn’t about to put any of those ideas into this thing’s head, so she simply turned her head away, as though she didn’t have a care in the world, and crossed her arms over her scaly chest. “Well, then I suppose you can be off now.”

The creature gave no reply. Instead, the rain filled the silence that grew steadily between them, and Glinda was more than happy to let it. She thought about trying her Song again–maybe she simply needed to catch the thing off guard–but when she turned her head to look, she noted with a sinking stomach that it was gone. 

How had it disappeared so fast? 

Glinda tried telling herself that it wasn’t her problem. She only worried about herself, and that’s the way she liked it. Well, she didn’t really like it, but the alternative was far worse. All she had to do was wait for the rain to let up, and then she could go back into the ocean and find more sailors. Really, what was so important about this creature? It was only one being, after all. There were plenty of others to be had. She could let it go and never have to worry about it again. 

Except…well, that wasn’t quite true, was it? Because it knew where Glinda lived. It had seen her island, had seen her, and if it remembered how to find it again, that meant Glinda could be easily found. 

And that did not sit well with her. 

She would simply have to do better. The creature could not be allowed to leave. Glinda would just have to make the Song work, or force it to stay. She could keep a prisoner. Even if she didn’t like it, she could do with the company. Glinda missed a lot of things from her old life, but talking to people was probably what she missed most. She wasn’t suited to a lifetime of solitude.

Her mind made up, Glinda hopped down from the boulder and made her way painstakingly toward where the creature’s boat had crashed into a nearby tree. She didn’t spot her prey, but she knew it had to be somewhere nearby, since the boat was its only way off the island. 

Well, unless it wanted to swim back to wherever it came from in this storm. 

As expected, Glinda found it easily. It had disappeared inside the boat to the lower deck, out of the rain and view of the island. 

Glinda hopped up to the deck and peeked her head into the cabin below, only to jump back when the creature took off its head. 

Glinda had thought she’d seen it all over the long, lonely years with her tail. She’d seen men whisper spells and incantations in the hope that they would ward her ‘evil spirit’ away; she’d seen parents offer their own children up as sacrifices to her in order to escape her Song themselves. She’d even seen sailors try to escape her clutches on the backs of sharks and dolphins, only to find themselves stranded when the sea creatures bucked them off and swam away, leaving them alone in the open ocean, vulnerable to Glinda and the mercy her Song offered. 

But never, in all her time, had Glinda seen someone remove its own head before. 

Only…it wasn’t a head. Glinda could see that now. No, it had been a hood of some kind, attached to a suit. She chastised herself for her foolishness. Of course there were no such creatures as the faceless one she’d first assumed this thing to be. But staring at the being–the woman–underneath it, Glinda was taken aback by this new sight in front of her. Because this couldn’t be right, either. 

This woman was…green? 

“Oh!” Glinda squeaked in surprise, causing the woman to jump and spin around to face her. Glinda saw the moment the woman registered her, because her bright green eyes widened and she scrambled back, grabbing the first thing she could from a nearby table, brandishing it in front of her like some kind of makeshift weapon. 

Glinda stared at the small, skinny item. It had been some time since she’d come across a pen. She’d never thought to see one again. She stared at it in open wonder and found herself sliding down the small stepstool to come closer, but the woman’s shaky voice stopped her in her tracks. 

“Stay back!” It–she–snapped, an unmistakable note of fear from earlier returned to her voice. “Don’t come any closer!”

Glinda obeyed, mostly so that the fear would disappear once again. She looked from the pen to the woman brandishing it, noticing for the first time that she still wore the suit that matched the hood. Glinda gaped, unable to help herself, as she stared at the woman’s unusual verdigris. 

Was the rest of her body green underneath that suit? 

“Wh…What are you?” Glinda asked as she clung to the railing beside her, mostly to keep her balance. She didn’t know what this woman was likely to do if she fell into her space, especially if Glinda was unable to stay upright. Glinda had come here intent on keeping this woman as her prisoner, but their roles could easily become reversed if Glinda made the slightest wrong move. No, she needed to be careful about this. She needed to think. 

It was something she hadn’t allowed herself to do in quite a long time. 

When the woman finally spoke, some of that fear began to dissipate, but Glinda didn’t miss the note of trepidation in her voice as she replied softly, “Haven’t you ever seen a human before?”

Of course I have! Glinda wanted to snap. I used to be human! But of course she didn’t say that. 

How could she? 

Instead, she merely stared at the woman, bearing her gaze into her deep green eyes as she tried to find her truth. Glinda had so many questions. Why was she green? Did she simply spend too much time in the water? Glinda had never heard of such a thing, but she supposed it was possible. Maybe she wasn’t a human either and was trying to pass herself off as one. Glinda didn’t see how since no humans she knew were green or wore strange jumpsuits. But, then again, it had been awhile since she’d spoken to a human and allowed herself to look at one this closely.

“Of course I have!” Glinda snapped. “But I’m not sure that you qualify!”

The woman glared at her in such a way that Glinda wouldn’t have been surprised if poison shot out of her eyes and seeped straight through Glinda’s slimy gray skin. She’d encountered hostility in her life, yes, but never to this degree, and never by someone who was apparently immune to her power. She wanted to ask this woman about it, but she had more pressing concerns at the moment.

Like how to keep her from sailing away and revealing her secret.

“What are you doing?” Glinda asked, though her words got lost in those of the woman’s, who spoke at the same time as she did.

“If you’re not gonna leave, can you at least close the door? Please don’t let the rain in!”

Glinda stared at her, more questions filling her brain, swirling around and demanding to be asked. She swallowed them down, however, and surprised herself by heeding the woman’s words, closing the door behind her as she lowered herself further into this strange room.

She immediately regretted it. She felt the distance between herself and the ocean acutely and painfully. The call of the water was nearly too strong to ignore, but she focused on the human, unwilling to showcase her discomfort.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure whether that was much of an improvement or not, because the woman continued staring at her as though she were a mystery she were trying to solve. And maybe that was what fascinated Glinda so much; the woman wasn’t staring at her in horror or fear. No, she looked more bothered that Glinda had intruded on her privacy.

Or that she was there at all.

The ensuing silence was stifling. The only sound that came through the walls was the rain, which continued to pelt down incessantly, though it finally started to sound as though it was starting to let up.

Not that Glinda was about to point that out.

Finally, when she couldn’t take it anymore, Glinda opened her mouth and blurted out, “So what exactly are you?”

“Excuse me?” The disdain in the woman’s voice was so strong that Glinda could practically feel it dripping down her mouth. She saw it as corporeally as though it were a real, solid thing that she could reach out and touch. 

“I’ve never seen a green human before,” Glinda clarified as she swished her tail absently, causing a nearby bucket to topple to the floor, its contents spilling out and rolling around to stop at the woman’s feet.

The woman glanced down and huffed in annoyance before turning her gaze back to Glinda. “And I’ve never seen a siren. Guess that makes us even.”

“I’m not—” Glinda began, but stopped herself, because of course what she’d been about to say was untrue. She was a siren, whether she wanted to be or not. No amount of denial or self-loathing would make it otherwise.

“Not what?” The woman asked, apparently unable to let the subject go. The corners of her mouth turned up in the beginnings of a smirk that sent another wave of anger surging through Glinda’s gut.

She opened her mouth to respond, but instead of the words that fought to rise to the surface, the beginnings of her usual melody slipped out instead, clearer and more vibrant than it had been before.

La La, lalalala…

“What are you doing?”

Glinda stopped, looking back to the woman once more. And once more, she found the woman staring at her, not with the deep-seated terror she was usually met with from those who were unfortunate enough to hear her Song. No, only more disdain, and what Glinda suspected might be a touch of curiosity met her instead.

She closed her mouth once more, the instinct to turn and flee nearly too strong to resist. She could find another island. Another safe place to call home when she wasn’t out in the open water. What was the harm in letting one woman go? Surely this woman had better things to do when she returned home than to go back out and hunt Glinda down.

“You truly don’t know?” Glinda finally asked once the silence proved too much.

The woman cocked her head as she began peeling the rest of the jumpsuit from her body. She never looked away from Glinda, keeping her in her sights the entire time, even when it seemed uncomfortable. Glinda supposed she couldn’t blame her for it, even though she wanted to say that there was, apparently, nothing to fear. Glinda had been rendered powerless around this woman, and she had no idea why.

“What don’t I know?” the woman asked once the suit was off. She sounded more tired than curious now, and definitely not scared. She flopped down on the small bed in the corner of the room that Glinda hadn’t noticed before, finally tearing her gaze away from Glinda, as though she simply didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

Glinda was tempted to take a pillow and smother her. Maybe grab a blanket or just use her webbed, scaly hands to cover the woman’s nose and mouth. Then Glinda’s worries would be behind her and she would no longer have to fret about this strange, abnormal, loathsome creature ever again. She could go back to her lonely, mundane existence and pretend that all of this had simply been a bad dream brought about by the raging storm.

Only…Glinda didn’t move. All she could do was sit where she was and stare as the woman closed her eyes and threw one of her arms behind her head, leaving the other one to lay across her chest, as though this were any other day and Glinda were just another visitor.

Should she leave? Glinda didn’t know, but she found that she didn’t want to. She couldn’t bring herself to move, no matter how hard she tried.

Or wanted to.

Well, at least she knew where the woman was. It certainly didn’t appear that she’d be going anywhere anytime soon. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing had evened out, almost as though she’d already slipped into unconsciousness. The trauma of the storm must’ve drained her completely. Glinda had seen the way she’d flown through the air after the boat crashed onto the island. She’d landed hard enough that Glinda had wondered whether she’d even survived. The woman hadn’t appeared to be in any pain, but she knew only too well how some people were able to mask their discomfort and pretend they were fine when they were, in fact, not.

Glinda would wait until she was sure that the woman was well and truly asleep and then move her. Glinda didn’t know how she’d do it, but luckily, she wouldn’t have far to go. All she needed to do was get her to the boulder somehow, secure her so she wouldn’t go anywhere, and Glinda would figure the rest out.

It didn’t take long for the woman to start snoring. It wasn’t a deep, loud snore that she remembered from her time as a human; it was softer, quieter, and somehow suited this woman, even though Glinda had only just met her. She didn’t even know her name, yet she knew that this woman was a soft, subtle presence in life—she floated rather than ran; flew rather than stomped. She may not ask for permission, but she didn’t take anything without giving something in return, either.

Glinda flicked her tail again as she watched the woman’s chest rise and fall steadily, her snores blending in with the rain that continued to come down, filling the room with sounds that were both completely foreign and surprisingly familiar at the same time. It took Glinda back to a time before her tail, when she’d still had a home; a family…

No.

Glinda shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted memories and glared at the prone, sleeping woman before her. She would not get soft. Not now, when she was faced with the sight of a beautiful woman…even if she was green.

Glinda would figure it out. She would figure it all out. Later. When she had the woman on her own turf, away from this ship where she was entirely too comfortable.

Soon enough she was beside the woman, trying to figure out how to get her out of the bed. She certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her up. Maybe if she pushed her off the bed, she could grab the woman’s arms and drag her up the stepstool somehow?

But no. The push would likely wake the woman up, and there was no explanation Glinda could give other than the truth. So where did that leave her?

And then the answer came, as quickly as the storm had appeared in the sky. Maybe the woman’s mind was simply too strong for Glinda’s Song to have an effect. Would the same hold true if she was asleep?

It was worth trying. Galinda summoned her familiar melody and let it wash over her, filling her up until it was ready to burst free. Then she brought it to her lips and pushed herself as high as she could, keeping her balance on both her arms and her tail, trying not to strain herself as she leaned in and whispered her Song into the woman’s ear.

She kept it as low and soothing as possible, lowering the pitch a good octave and letting it pour into the woman’s ear like water into a parched throat.

La La, lalalala…

Glinda watched the woman carefully for any hint that she was about to wake up. When the woman didn’t move, Glinda kept up the melody, pleased when she was able to continue. It was the same melody, just in a lower, minor key. The music blended nicely with the rain that had finally quieted—a sign that it was beginning to calm. Good. That would make this next part easier.

Glinda continued humming the Song softly into the woman’s ear as she slowly lowered herself back down to the ground, relieved when the pressure was taken off her tail. The woman’s eyes fluttered underneath her closed lids, but she did not wake or give any indication that she was about to. Glinda closed her own eyes for just a moment before speeding up the Song just a clock tick and pushed in the silent command for the woman to sit up.

Nothing happened. 

Glinda frowned, glaring at the woman as she leaned in closer and whispered her Song again, a little louder this time. She stared at the woman’s face as she breathed the melody, letting it wash over her, feeling it as familiarly as it usually was. 

Still nothing. The woman’s face was as still and peaceful as ever. 

What in Lurline’s name was going on? Her Song had never failed her before. It was her one constant in this tumultuous life; the one thing she could count on when everything else failed her. 

When everyone else failed. 

Glinda closed her mouth and screamed, uncaring whether it would wake the woman up or not. She almost wished it would, if only so she’d know that she had an effect on her somehow. Surely the woman wasn’t completely immune to her–that would be impossible. 

But the woman remained stubbornly asleep. 

Sighing, Glinda raised a webbed hand and cautiously let her scaly skin brush against the woman’s greenness. Maybe she was a creature altogether different from anything she’d ever seen before. Maybe she wasn’t even human. Maybe she simply looked human enough that she was able to pass for one. Glinda had never heard of such a thing, but that didn’t mean much. A lot could have changed since she’d lived away from the sea. 

Well…if she couldn’t move the woman, she could at least study her. Maybe she’d figure out just what this creature was, and why she was immune to the Song. 

With a second glance at the woman to make sure she was still asleep, Glinda brought her hand up to the top of the woman’s head, letting her fingers brush through the strands of her long black hair. It felt like…hair. Nothing different or strange about it. Cautiously, she brought her other hand up, moving them as one through the strands, testing their weight and memorizing the feel of the microbraids that she’d never seen on someone before. They were different, but on the woman they looked…beautiful. It was the first word that came to mind, and Glinda didn’t know what to do with it, so she tucked it away for now, to be dealt with later. 

Next she brought her hands down toward the woman’s cheeks, taking in their softness, noting how she let out a small groan as Glinda’s fingers dipped down toward her chin. Glinda paused, expecting the woman to wake up, but she merely shifted where she lay, turning slightly on her left side, leaving her right exposed to Glinda and giving her a better view of her hip and leg. 

“My, you are a strange thing,” Glinda murmured to herself as her hand dipped even lower, along the smooth skin of her neck, across the shoulder that was covered by a dry shirt that she hadn’t been wearing when she’d crashed. Glinda thought briefly about exploring the skin underneath, but she quickly dismissed the thought. It had been a long time since she’d been human, but she remembered only too well how men would try to sneak a peek at her bosom, or think that a coy look was an invitation for them to touch her. Glinda wasn’t sure why she was reminded of her long lost humanity now, especially when she wasn’t even entirely sure this creature was human, but she simply couldn’t do it. 

So, she traced a hand along the woman’s shoulder and down her side, careful to keep her touch above the woman’s clothing. She lingered a bit on her hip, pausing only when the woman moaned again. Glinda was ready to pull her hand away if the woman snapped her eyes open–though again, she had no idea why she even cared–and only moved when her companion offered no further sounds. 

Glinda hesitated when she saw that the woman’s legs were bare. They’d shifted sometime in her sleep, escaping the thin sheet she used as a cover, exposing her greenness, which was just the same as the rest of her. 

The urge to touch her was strong. Glinda didn’t know why, especially since she’d never been as fascinated by a human as she was this one. Though, she still wasn’t convinced this woman was human, though she didn’t know what else she could be, either. What kind of human had green skin? 

But, so far at least, nothing about this woman convinced her that she was anything else, either. If it wasn’t for her unusual verdigris, Glinda wouldn’t think she was anything other than human. 

Well, she needed to make sure, and she didn’t think she was going to get another chance. So she let her hand trail down, her fingertips grazing over the woman’s bare legs. Glinda made sure to stay along the outside of her body, and gasped when she felt the softness of her flesh, as smooth as human skin was supposed to be. It defied all logic; all explanation. If this woman was human–and Glinda had no reason to think otherwise–then why was she immune to the Song? 

Glinda didn’t know, but she was going to find out. Even if it meant keeping this woman here with her. She’d let her go once she learned this woman’s secrets. Or pull her down to the depths, as she did with all the other humans she encountered. Glinda could put all this behind her once her curiosity was sated. 

She felt better now that she had a solid plan. It wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. And since she couldn’t move the woman, Glinda would just have to wait until she woke up. 

She couldn’t take the risk of leaving the boat to go back into the water, only for the woman to find a way off the island in her absence, so she reluctantly made a small little bed for herself on the floor with the suit that the woman had worn when she’d crashed. Glinda savored the wetness, catching a whiff of the woman’s scent as she burrowed down. It still clung to the suit, and Glinda inhaled deeply, savoring the slight sweetness of her. 

Glinda would let the woman sleep. She’d let her rest and get her strength back, and then she would find out what made this woman tick. And once she did, she would have her all to herself. She comforted herself with those thoughts as she waited patiently for the woman to wake up from her slumber…