Work Text:
There is a moment when the realization sets in.
Elphaba has made her decision. Glinda has to learn to understand and live with it.
A mirror of past events – or maybe a swap in roles? Elphaba isn’t quite sure, but either way, she knows that somehow she and Glinda always find themselves in these situations.
However, this time, Elphaba knows there won’t be another moment like this. There won’t be another time, another situation where they have to make decisions in this way.
This is where their world shatters apart. There is no coming back from this, not even in Elphaba’s wildest dreams.
Elphaba tries her best to commit Glinda’s face to memory, tries to memorize every crease and crinkle. She wishes Glinda would smile one last time, big enough to show her dimples, but they both have no reason to smile right now.
Glinda’s lips are turned into what feels like a permanent frown. She’s looking at Elphaba in fear and understanding, a difficult combination to swallow. She’s looking at Elphaba like she also doesn’t want to forget what the green girl looks like.
They don’t have much time, Elphaba knows, but she will savor every last moment she gets with Glinda the Good - Galinda Upland - because she knows this is it.
And oh, how her heart breaks because Glinda looks at her like a pig being led to slaughter.
“You are going to do so much good,” Elphaba tells her, voice merely above a whisper.
Glinda gives a pitiful laugh, clutching the Grimmerie that Elphaba had pressed into her hands a few minutes ago.
“Because of you,” Glinda reminds her. “For you.”
It makes Elphaba’s heart fill up in the most painful of ways.
“You were always meant to do good, Galinda.”
Glinda softens at the sound of her former name, the way it falls from Elphaba’s lips.
She looks at Elphaba like she hasn’t believed the statement could be true until this very moment, until it came from Elphaba’s lips.
The sounds of the angry mob, once at a distance, are closer now. Elphaba can make out the words they’re chanting, and though she knows they’re aimed at her, all she can think about is making sure no one knows Glinda was ever here.
She reaches out for Glinda’s hand, intertwining their fingers as she quickly leads Glinda up into the attic. Glinda follows without complaint, letting Elphaba lead her. Thinking on her feet, Elphaba immediately takes her to the closet in the corner, guiding the blonde into it gently but with urgency.
“You stay here,” Elphaba whispers as Glinda turns to face her.
It ruins her to see the way Glinda’s face falls.
“What?”
“Everything’s gonna be fine,” Elphaba promises.
She tries to wear a smile. She knows it probably looks like a grimace, and paired with the tears staining her cheeks they both know it’s a lie, but Elphaba has to try. She knows for Glinda she will try to put on a brave face every time.
“Elphie, I–”
Glinda hesitates, and Elphaba sees it in her eyes again.
Suddenly, they are twenty-nothings in the Emerald City again. Suddenly, Elphaba is back on that bench, just a block away from the palace. Suddenly, she feels that blooming in her chest that she felt all those years ago.
Last time, Glinda hesitated.
You’re my best friend.
This time, Glinda doesn’t back track.
“I love you.”
It’s quiet and broken, a plea.
Elphaba knows exactly why Glinda doesn’t hold back this time.
There are tears in those big brown eyes. Streaks fall down her precious face. Her voice is strained. This is so unlike the Glinda the Good that has been plastered all over Oz for the past few years. This is so unlike the image of Galinda Upland cleverly crafted in those early days at Shiz.
This is Glinda looking at Elphaba knowing she is about to lose her.
So what else is there to lose?
The words are enough to make Elphaba’s knees go weak, for her resolve to begin to crumble. She should just tell her the plan Fiyero concocted on the tip of her tongue. She knows, this time, if she asks, Glinda will come. Glinda will drop everything she’s built over the last five years and come with her and leave it all behind.
Elphaba can see Glinda’s heart breaking in real time because she knows they are coming, and she thinks that Elphaba has accepted her fate. She can see how despite the villain everyone has painted her to be, Glinda thinks Elphaba is preparing to die a hero’s death.
But Elphaba can’t be selfish, not now.
Glinda has so much good to do once this is all over. Once Elphaba is out of the way, soon to be just a memory of a myth the people of Oz created. Once Glinda is not waiting, wanting, and wishing for a day that Elphaba returns to her.
It’s a sick joke, really, to know that out of all of Oz, it is Glinda the Good that wishes Elphaba would just come home.
If Elphaba can even call it that anymore, anyway.
But then again, maybe home isn’t Emerald City or Shiz or even the familiar Munchkinland. Maybe home is standing right in front of her, looking so impossibly small and fragile in the closet that Elphaba has forced her into.
Maybe home is Glinda the Good.
Elphaba can’t give Glinda what she truly wants, but at least she can give her some small part of the truth.
“I love you too,” Elphaba tells her.
It’s quiet and honest and raw, something that sits between them with a vibrancy neither of them quite understand.
She watches as Glinda’s eyes widen at the response, how her heart skips at the admission. Elphaba really can’t help it then – not with the way Glinda looks at her, not with how close they are in this moment, not with the knowledge this is the last time she’ll ever see the blonde girl again.
Elphaba leans forward until the space between them is closed, capturing Glinda’s lips with her own.
Glinda gasps in surprise against her mouth, but she quickly falls into it. She kisses back with fervor, with desperation.
They kiss each other like it’s second nature, like the last time they kissed wasn’t five years ago when they were still young and hopeful.
Elphaba is quick to grip at the fabric at Glinda’s waist, pulling her closer. Glinda still clutches onto the Grimmerie between them, but she uses one arm to hook around Elphaba’s neck, bringing her impossibly closer until there is no space between them.
All the things they’ve left unsaid are translated in this moment, without words but through touch and sighs and moans.
Glinda kisses Elphaba like her love will be able to save her from her fate.
Elphaba feels like she is pouring herself into Glinda with every kiss, hoping that she is able to seep deep into Glinda’s skin and stay there long after this is over.
Because Elphaba knows that Glinda’s life will continue without her. Because Elphaba will spend the rest of her own life wondering how Glinda is doing, if she’s okay, if she’s found someone who will love her for her and not for the facade she has created.
She will spend the remainder of her life wondering if someone will be able to uncover Glinda like she has, if Glinda has found someone to spend the rest of her days with. She will hope and dream and wish for the best, only accompanied by the ache of knowing Glinda is living a whole new life without her.
Elphaba has to live the rest of her life knowing Glinda will mourn her death.
“I love you so much,” Glinda whimpers against her lips. “I love you, Elphaba Thropp.”
Elphaba isn’t sure where her tears stop and Glinda’s start, but the confession sets off a new wave of tears between the two of them as Glinda kisses her again and again and again.
They kiss until the mob’s cries are too loud, too close to ignore.
It is Elphaba who pulls away from Glinda, taking in her tear-covered face and her big brown eyes one last time. Her lips are slightly parted and oh, even in the state she’s in, Glinda is still the most beautiful thing Elphaba has ever seen.
“I love you too,” Elphaba says one last time before she closes the door.
Her chest aches and she feels like she’s about to fall apart. Elphaba leans against the door, silently sobbing. She fights the urge to open it back up and drag Glinda through the trap door.
Instead, she presses her hand against her heart, trying to settle the emotions rattling around in her chest.
She rests her forehead against the door, praying that Glinda understands why things are playing out this way.
Elphaba is the one who is meant to disappear, but she somehow feels like she’s the one losing the love of her life.
The thought shocks her but settles all at once.
Because of course Glinda is the love of her life, no one else would even come close.
She presses her hand against the wood, wondering if Glinda is going through a similar thought process, too.
Elphaba has always had to be the brave one between the two of them.
Back in the Emerald City, all those years ago, Glinda wasn’t brave enough to make the jump.
Here in Kiamo Ko, Glinda is braver than she’s ever been, but Elphaba has to be braver. She has to do this for Glinda, for Oz.
Losing the one person who has ever truly loved her is worth the greater good.
It has to be.
So Elphaba finds it in her to collect herself and pull away from the door. She wipes her tears before she’s making her way across the room and calling her broomstick to the attic. She hears them coming up the stairwell, knows they’ll send the little girl to do their bidding.
Elphaba stands like she is not afraid, like she is the villain they’ve all made her out to be.
She stands with dignity knowing that Glinda is in the room, and she cannot afford for Glinda to think of her dying in any other way than the way Elphaba has always been in moments like this.
It’s the least Elphaba can do, really.
And the little girl’s - Nessa’s - heels click against the stairs up to the attic, Elphaba grips her broom tight.
She and Glinda both know a new Oz awaits them.
It all begins tonight.