Chapter Text
Elphaba breathed in the musty scent of mouldering wood and damp stone. She pressed a hand to her chest and forced her heartbeat to settle. She felt naked without her crooked black hat atop her head, but it was still sitting in the puddle of water above her, the drips of which were still trickling along the stone and dripping through the lip of the hidden hatch she’d slipped through. She’d already removed her billowing cloak, soaked through, and her sleeveless black dress was speckled with water. She shivered in the dampness of the hidden passageway, one of many Fiyero had mapped out for her at Kiamo Ko, goosebumps prickling at her emerald skin. She hugged herself and pressed her lips together as she listened to the activity above her head.
She could hear the click of heels echoing on stone. She knew that sound belonged to those hideoteous sparkling shoes — which had not been Glinda’s to give to that human girl. They were her sister’s, after all, and even though Elphaba would never have worn the heels herself, they were the last item she would ever have to remind her of Nessarose Thropp. Oh, Nessa… Her little sister. The beauty to her beast, the innocent joy to her hardened solemnity. Grief struck at her heart, piercing and sharp. She pressed her hand harder against her chest. No tears pricked at her eyes, though she knew they would come thick and heavy when she finally allowed herself to stand still and think over all that had happened.
Nessa was dead.
Boq was no longer human; neither was Fiyero. They were both off with that strange human girl and her yappy little non-speaking dog, off to Ozma-knew-where.
And Glinda. Galinda. She could still picture the tears she had seen pooling in the blonde’s eyes, the quiver of her perfectly pink lips as Elphaba had shut her away in the closet, lingering to hold the door closed to ensure neither of them went back on their promise.
Her heart ached to think about the fact that she would never see any of them again. That she would never see Nessa smile that giddy smile. That she would never hear Boq’s horrendible attempts at flirting with Glinda. That she would never again listen to Fiyero’s bubbling laugh. That she would never run her fingers through Glinda’s glistening curls, whisper secrets into her ear, stay up all night giggling…
“I love you,” she had whispered to the blonde before she’d shut her away in the empty closet. It was the first time she had admitted to Glinda how fervently she felt for her.
And Glinda, that beautiful, blonde, nonsensical wonder… She had done what Elphaba never imagined she would do; she had whispered those words right back: “I love you, too.”
Elphaba had slammed the door after that, knowing that if she let those words linger, she never would have had the heart to go forward with her plan. It had been for the best, she told herself now, shuddering in the damp niche. Faking her death was for the best. Everything would go back to the way it was. Oz would finally feel safe enough to usher in real change.
And so Elphaba forced herself to wait in silence, listening for the click of heels, pad of paws, and creak of metal to fade into silence. When the incessant dripping of water was the only noise to reach Elphaba’s ears, she at last heaved open the old wooden trap door. It was harder to push from inside than it had been to pull it open from outside, but she managed, somehow, to shove one of the doors open enough for her to peek her head out from the tunnel.
A sigh of relief had left her lips before she could fully gauge the emptiness of the room.
For it wasn’t empty, not like Elphaba had assumed among the sudden stillness.
A single person was crouched on the stone floor.
The many layers of her shimmering gown drooped pitifully into the puddle of water where Elphaba had strategically placed her hat. The accessory was no longer sitting there but clutched in Glinda’s arms, held as affectionately as one would expect a toddling child to be held.
Elphaba froze, paralyzed in place. She could do little but stare at the blonde’s trembling form. Too soft to have been heard through the layer of stone, Elphaba could now see that Glinda was sobbing, a thick layer of tears coating her perfect rosy cheeks. The quiet hiccuping wracking her form was nearly too much to bear. With each sob, she clutched Elphaba’s hat tighter in her hands, as if afraid the black fabric would disappear if she loosened her grip.
Tears of her own threatened to spill from Elphaba’s dark eyes, and she started to duck back into the hidden tunnel, knowing she would be discoverated the second a sob tore itself from her throat. She reached a trembling hand to the handle of the trapdoor, trying to pull it back into place as quietly and slowly as she could manage. The old door creaked on its rusted hinges, and she froze again as the blonde’s head hesitantly turned her way.
Elphaba caught the moment Glinda saw her. The blonde’s breath hitched, a sob pausing halfway through her lips. The hat fell soundlessly from her hands to the stone floor, rolling a few inches before tipping over, its crooked top resting at the edge of the lingering puddle.
“Elphie?” Glinda choked out.
“My sweet,” Elphaba greeted tentatively in reply.
“But. I thought…” The blonde stumbled to her feet, shedding her heels in her haste to get to the green-skinned sorceress as she pulled herself up out of the tunnel. “I thought you were dead.” The realization settled in the air between them, and Glinda’s expression shifted into something Elphaba didn’t recognize. “I thought you were dead!”
Elphaba forced a smile. “Did you really think a bucket of water was all it took to kill me? You’ve seen me bathe how many times?”
Glinda paused, her brow furrowed in thought. Her jaw dropped as realization struck. “Elphaba Thropp, you are truly wicked.”
“What, I would have thought you’d find faking your death a thrillifying affair?”
“Perhaps if I were in on the game!” Glinda scoffed. “Really, you could have at least told me you were only pretending, and then I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t…” Her gaze dropped to the fallen hat on the stone floor. Elphaba’s eyes followed hers, and her smile slid away again.
“If you had known, the plan wouldn’t have worked,” she reasoned softly, but even she was uncertain now, her words shaky with guilt. “No one could be ‘in on it.’” She pressed her lips together. “Not even you.”
Hurt flashed across Glinda’s expression. Her bottom lip had started to tremble again, and Elphaba could see fresh tears glistening in her eyes.
“I thought you were dead,” Glinda choked out again. “Elphie…”
Elphaba could only stay strong for so long when faced with the expression resting on the stunning blonde’s features. The makeup she’d brushed around her eyes was streaked and muddled, the salty trails of dried tears caking her usually rosy cheeks. When Elphaba forced herself to meet Glinda’s reddened eyes, the final piece of her stoicness cracked away. She practically launched herself forward to wrap her arms around the girl, not daring to apologize for crinkling Glinda’s lacy lavender dress. The blonde didn’t hesitate to embrace her in return, her form trembling against hers as they held each other.
Elphaba pressed her eyes closed and ran her long-nailed fingers through Glinda’s blonde curls, setting each soft lock to memory. She breathed in her flowery perfume, which she’d always chided Glinda for spritzing too strongly in their shared room. But now she could only savor the familiar scent, asking herself why she’d ever thought she’d had the strength to leave the girl.
“I’m sorry,” Elphaba whispered into Glinda’s ear, her lips brushing the blonde’s perfectly smooth skin. “Really, I am. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you behind again, and I went back on that. I’m sorry, Galinda. Really.”
The blonde sniffled. “It’s Glinda now, actually. The ‘Ga’ is silent.”
Elphaba could only breathe out a stuttering laugh. “Will you accept my apology? Please, dearest. I will never break a promise again, especially not that one.” She pressed her lips to Glinda’s forehead. “You have my word.”
“Oh, Elphie,” Glinda sniffled again, leaning back slightly to scrub her tears away with the back of her hand. “I hate you. I really, truly hate you.”
A soft smirk tugged its way back onto Elphaba’s lips. “I know that’s not true, my sweet. I love you, and I know you feel the same.”
Glinda’s lips pursed in her attempt to hide a matching smile. “I wish I could stay mad at you, Elphie. You know me too well.” A frown slid onto her features, replacing it just as quickly. “Oh, how could I ever lose you? I don’t know how I would go on without you.”
Guilt once more made its presence known to Elphaba. “I know, my sweet. But you haven’t lost me. I’m here.”
Glinda pulled her into an embrace again, clutching her so tightly Elphaba swore she could feel the bite of her fingernails through the back of her dress. “Promise me I’ll never lose you.”
“I don’t know if that’s something I can promise you, dearest,” she admitted softly, “but if I knew I could, I would in a heartbeat. I can promise you that much.”
“That will have to do for now, I suppose,” Glinda agreed, pressing her face into the fabric of Elphaba’s dress. “Elphie, I was so scared…”
“I know,” she whispered in reply. “I know. I was, too.”
The blonde tilted her head back and raised an eyebrow. “Really? The marvelous Elphaba Thropp, scared?”
“I’m scared a lot,” she admitted, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I’m scared almost all of the time, actually.”
Glinda reassumed her tight grip on the sorceress, her lips for a moment tickling her neck.
“I can’t go back to Oz,” Elphaba added after a moment, speaking softly, as if in the hopes it would rid the words of their truth. “You know as well as I do that they will never stop searching for me, not until I’m dead. This was my chance to get the hounds off my scent.”
“How is faking your death the answer?” The blonde blurted out, but Elphaba just shook her head lightly.
“Are you kidding? It’s the simplest answer there is.” She twirled a lock of Glinda’s hair around her pointer finger, the familiar feeling providing her at least some semblance of comfort. “Glinda, I trust you more than anyone. You know that, right?”
She nodded wordlessly.
“But no one can know that I am alive,” she continued quietly. “No one. If the subtlest rumor finds anyone’s ears that I’m still alive, the hunt for my head is back on. And then they will truly kill me — with bullets or knives, not buckets of water.”
“I can’t go about life without you, knowing that you’re alive and that I still can’t see you,” Glinda hissed fervently. “To go on and pretend the most important person in my life is gone forever. To, what? Celebrate your death? I couldn’t bear it.”
“I don’t see how there’s any other way,” Elphaba murmured. “Either you go on and tell everyone that I’m dead, or…” A flicker of hope, impossible as it was, lit up in her mind. “You come with me.”
Glinda flinched at the ramification of the question. She took a step back. Elphaba’s skin felt cold where the blonde had been melted against her only a moment before. With Glinda’s body heat no longer hers to feel, her skin seemed to remember the dampness of the tunnel again. Goosebumps rose like tiny hills across her emerald skin, and she shuddered.
“Oh, Elphie, you’re shivering,” Glinda whispered. She looked around frantically for something to wrap the sorceress up in. The only garment she found was the hooded cloak she’d grabbed on her way to Kiamo Ko. She didn’t hesitate to gather it in her arms and tote it over to Elphaba, wrapping it carefully around her shoulders and delicately tying up the front. She experimented with the hood, tipping it over Elphaba’s head and then pushing it back again, her eyes analyzing the difference the seemingly unimportant detail made.
“Glinda, dearest,” Elphaba whispered in the painstakingly long stillness that rose to greet them as the blonde continued to toy with the fabric. “Come with me.”
Glinda caught her eye, and even through the tears swimming in Elphaba’s own, she managed to offer her a knowing wink. The movement caused one of the tears to finally break free.
As it streaked down Elphaba’s cheek, Glinda lifted a hand and gently cupped her face, using a thumb to brush it away with a touch as soft as a butterfly’s wing. She followed the movement with her lips, letting them follow the trail down to Elphaba’s. She caught the sorceress’ lips in hers and kissed her. Elphaba could taste the saltiness of her own tears blending with Glinda’s.
“Please,” Elphaba whispered again. “Come with me.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” Glinda hissed in reply, pressing her lips once more to Elphaba’s. “Of course I will. I won’t make the same mistake twice, my love.”
For the first time all night, relief and hope were the only emotions at war inside the sorceress as she offered Glinda her hand.
“It’s a long road,” she warned her softly, a touch of worry gracing her with its presence. “It’s a long walk. I don’t know what we’ll find past Oz. I don't know where this road will end.”
“I'll walk it with you, hand in hand,” Glinda whispered in reply. “I’ll walk beside you, love, any way the wind blows.”
“When we leave Oz, we can’t come back,” she added. “Oz is your home. Are you sure you’re willing to leave?”
Despite the trepidation that twitched briefly across Glinda’s face, the blonde just laughed. “You’re my home, Elphie.”
The words were so unexpected that Elphaba’s jaw dropped, her hand frozen in place where it was held in front of her. “Really?”
“Really,” Glinda agreed, a smile blossoming across her face. She slipped her hand into Elphaba’s and twined their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go. Take me home.”