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Fiyero POV
Fiyero's heart had been stuttering painfully since his encounter with Elphaba in the Danbury gardens. Hearing her ask him to leave in such a cold voice had felt like a bruise to his chest. He had heeded her request, of course. The last thing he wants to do is make her feel uncomfortable.
His confession had not been well received. While the rejection had not surprised him, the sting of it was no less painful for its predictability. Yet, he could not ignore a most telling part of their exchange: she had been unable to claim that she felt nothing for him in return. It had broken his heart to hear her dismiss her own feelings as if they did not factor into the equation. In that moment, it had taken a great deal of self-restraint to stop himself from telling her, quite unequivocally, that her feelings were the only thing that mattered to him.
He had held his tongue and retreated at her behest, yet he knows that this situation cannot remain unchecked. Now that he knows there is a good possibility that his feelings for her are not unrequited, he is even more certain that he simply cannot go forward with his engagement to Lady Galinda.
He had never intended to marry for love, that is true, but he had intended to remain entirely faithful to his future wife, and he cannot be a faithful husband to Galinda when it is her best friend he truly desires. It would be untenable regardless of living arrangements, but the prospect of having Elphaba live with them after their marriage is what really tips the scales. He cannot allow this sham to go on, no matter the consequences of breaking his word at this late stage.
Therefore, it is imperative that he have a blunt conversation with Elphaba as soon as possibility allows. Regardless of whether she is able to forgive him and give them a chance to explore what it is between them, he knows he will have to end things with Galinda. He could set this in motion without speaking to Elphaba first, but the selfish part of him wishes to have her blessing, for without it he is very sure he will lose her forever. The thought of this sends another agonizing stab to his wretched heart.
He cannot risk seeking her out at Danbury House again. Not when she is so determined to evade him. He decides his best course of action is to catch her unaware at the Deonithian ball that evening. He feels like the worst kind of brute at the prospect of cornering her, but he can see no alternative course.
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Elphaba POV
She had known that the Deonithian ball would be trying at best and torturous at worst. Unfortunately, it seems to be leaning towards the latte. She is forced to stand in the overly heated ballroom, watching Lord Tigelaar dance, suffocated by the ton who are packed into the space like sardines.
Every now and again, she feels Fiyero's heated gaze on her, though she refuses to make eye contact. But every time she feels his eyes bore into her, it seems to erode at her sanity, until halfway into the second set, the music, the crush of the crowd, and his eyes on her become utterly overwhelming and she is forced to make an escape, if only to gather herself.
Her vision is hazy and her heart is throbbing as she navigates the masses, carving out a path to retreat from the ballroom. Once she reaches the main entrance, there is no rhyme or reason to the way that she moves throughout the house, as she tries to find a refuge.
Once on the second floor, she sights a door leading out onto an unoccupied balconette, looking out onto the garden. She throws the door open hastily, heaving a breath and leaning heavily against the railing. She tries to control her breathing as her head swims, feeling most grateful for the fresh air. She feels that her heart is starting to return to a healthier pace, and is contemplating returning to the ballroom, when suddenly she hears footsteps behind her.
"Elphaba," Fiyero gasps, his voice thick with relief.
She spins around and finds he has moved through the doorway so swiftly that they are now standing face to face.
“Fiyero,” she murmurs, quite shocked.
“Lady Elphaba, I've been trying to speak to you all evening,” he begins, and his eyes are sorrowful.
She does not feel that she has the strength to weather another of his confessions, so she interrupts him. “My lord, I thought I had made myself quite clear during our ill-advised conversation at Danbury House yesterday.” He looks likely to interrupt, so she doesn't give him the chance. “We cannot continue this way; you are engaged to marry my best friend. You must stop. You must stop.”
He does not heed her request. “I cannot STOP! Oz, Elphaba, how can you expect me to stop when it is you I think about night and day?” His voice is raised and his expression is tortured. He still looks quite unwell and she feels her heart clench painfully.
“You haunt my days and command my dreams,” he continues slightly breathlessly. We cannot go on like this; you are right. But denying what is between us is not the solution. You're due to join my household with my new wife in nigh on six weeks, for Oz's sake.”
“No,” she interrupts him resolutely.
“What do you mean, no?” he asks, incredulously.
“No, I will not be joining Galinda when she moves to Tigelaar House.”
“What are you talking about?” he demands, and she can see that incredulity has been joined by a hint of panic.
“How can you think that I would follow through with that plan now that this is between us?” she spits, wondering if he is being purposely obtuse. “It would be torture. I can't do it. I won't.”
“And where exactly do you think you are going to go?” he asks, his face hardening.
“To Ev. They are a more accepting people and I can find work as a governess.” She had had many, many hours of bed rest to think this through. She truly believes it to be the least objectionable solution.
His breathing was heavy now, a sharp exhale through his nostrils as he stared at her as if she had truly taken leave of her senses. “And what precisely do you hope to achieve with that inane plan?” he grits out between laboured breaths.
“I hope to put an end to this madness!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. “To leave you to your future with my best friend. To protect my loyalty to the only woman who has ever valued me. I can live an independent life. I can make my own way, my own choices for once, instead of living at the mercy of other people’s charity and good nature.”
She is also heaving now and she wishes more than anything that he would cease with this emotional torture.
“Well, that just proves to me that you are utterly blind to the reality of our situation,” he hisses.
“I beg your pardon?” His tone and words have ignited her ire.
“Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?” he growls. “My future with Galinda is already forever altered by my feelings for you. Whether you are in Ev or beside me at my breakfast table, you will be in my mind, in my dreams, in my heart.”
She is too stunned to speak and he seems to take her silence as assent.
“So you see, you must let me break with Galinda. I will never be able to be a faithful husband to her now that I have known you.”
There is an emotion burning in his eyes that she does not wish to confront. She feels the panic bubble in her chest and it feels like it is rising into her throat. “You cannot…” she chokes out.
“But I must,” he murmurs gently, as he leans forward to caress her cheek.
She feels frozen in place by his gaze and the warmth of his palm along her jaw. She is quickly broken from her fixation when she hears, "Elphie?" in a small, broken voice.
Her head snaps up, heart thumping in horror. Over Fiyero's shoulder, she sees Galinda standing in the doorway. The light behind her illuminates her frame, throwing the shattered expression on her face into stark relief. Her eyes are glistening and her bottom lip quivers. Her gaze is fixed on Elphaba where she stands in Fiyero's embrace.
“You mean to tell me that the two of you, this whole time…” her voice trails off, thick with betrayal.
“No, Glin, it isn’t like that…” Elphaba tries to reassure desperately. But as quickly as she had appeared, Galinda disappears, turning swiftly on the spot to make a hasty retreat.
Elphaba spares Fiyero one more glance, finding his gaze frozen in a mask of shock and alarm, before she hastens to follow Galinda, barely repressing her own tears of guilt and anguish.
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By the time Elphaba had caught up to Galinda, she had found her parents and was requesting that they have the carriage brought to the front. Elphaba could tell that she was barely repressing tears in an effort to remain composed in front of the other guests. Her parents had appeared understandably concerned and were questioning her quietly. Had they assumed a suitor had upset her or behaved inappropriately? Elphaba was not sure.
Galinda appeared to placate them with hushed words that Elphaba had not been close enough to hear.
The subsequent carriage journey had been pure torment. Galinda had kept her eyes determinedly trained on the drops of rain that flickered down onto the window. She did not look at Elphaba once, no matter how many times she attempted to catch her eye.
It was the worst that Elphaba had ever felt. Not even her father's cruellest words of disgust and hatred had cut her quite so deeply. Her heart had felt like a gaping wound and she had no way to stem the guilt and sorrow as it flowed from her. She had felt physically ill with regret.
When they had finally reached Danbury House, Galinda had hastened inside, her rush having nothing to do with the rain. The Viscount and Viscountess had not attempted to stop Galinda's escape to her chambers. They were adoring, but not particularly observant. After they had been assured that their daughter had not been injured and her honour had not been jeopardised, they let her retreat—assuming, Elphaba was sure, that she was simply caught in a fit of the dramatics to which she was prone.
Elphaba, perfectly aware of what had caused her anguish, had followed at her heels. Up the grand staircase and to the landing on the second floor, she hadn't dared to try to engage Galinda yet. Finally, Galinda reaches her door, throwing it open with no attempt to bar Elphaba's entry.
Now that the moment has come to confront this duplicity, she finds herself having to buoy her courage to take responsibility for her betrayal of her best friend.
Taking a deep breath, and with a ringing in her ears, she enters Galinda’s bedchamber, and the scene in front of her almost brings her to her knees. For Galinda is faced away from her, hunched over, sobbing unrestrainedly into her hands. Elphaba feels dizzy, and her own tears begin to fall in earnest.
"Glin," she murmurs brokenly, "there are no words to express how much I hate myself for what I have done." She takes a deep breath and tries uselessly to stem the flow of her tears with her fingers. "I feel like the world's worst fraud. I warned you off Lord Tigelaar because I thought he was a despicable man. And then the more time we spent in each other's company, the more I grew to understand him. Understanding grew into respect, and respect grew into..."
She trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
"Love," Galinda finishes for her softly, her voice thick with tears.
Her instinct is to refute this outrageous claim, only she is not sure that it is so outrageous anymore.
"Glin, no, I don't think it is..." she began, but she should know better than to lie to the person who knows her best in the world.
Galinda spins around and at the sight of her swollen eyes and tortured expression, Elphaba feels as though her heart is haemorrhaging.
"Don't deny it, Elphie," Galinda commands coldly, "I know what I saw. The only thing that could make this horrific ordeal worse is if you LIE to me!"
Elphaba can see the moment that sorrow gives way to fury. And she deserves every bit of it.
"How could you, Elphie?" she demands, and a fresh wave of angry tears spill across her cheeks.
"I promise it was not my intent, Glin. I would NEVER, never want to hurt you in any way. You're my best friend." The tears take over her ability to speak as she sees the disbelief in Galinda's eyes. It's as though this one night has undone thirteen years of trust and friendship.
"Well, it's too late for that," Galinda mutters, her voice now quite resigned, "because I am hurt. My heart is broken." She lets out a sob on her last word.
Elphaba leans forward to grasp her face tightly in her hands in an effort to escape the agony of watching Galinda fall apart. But she must face it. She must reckon with it. She holds all of the blame, after all. "I have a plan, Glin. I promise I'm going to fix this."
"How could you possibly fix this!" Galinda shrieks.
“I'm going to leave,” Elphaba states firmly. At these words, Galinda's eyes widen in horror.
Elphaba continues before Galinda can exclaim. "I'm going to journey to Ev and find work as a governess. And you can marry Fiyero. Live the life of Lady Tigelaar, become a mother to beautiful children, run a grand household. All the things you dreamed of, Glin. It may not be a marriage of love, but then, Fiyero has been clear about that from the start."
She feels a flicker of hope as she imagines the comfortable life her friend can still have. And she will gladly pay for it with her own broken heart and the loss of everything she has ever known. But Galinda does not look hopeful or even placated.
"Elphie," Galinda begins, her face now masked in devastation once more. "I don't care for Fiyero, nor do I want this marriage."
Elphaba's overwhelming guilt and sorrow is momentarily interrupted by utter confusion. "Glin, you don't want... I don't think I understand you," she stutters.
"Oh, Elphaba, don't you see? Have I not been ridiculously obvious? I don't love Fiyero, I love you.” She takes a shuddering breath before continuing, "I'm in love with you."
Elphaba's shock is a veritable deluge. She feels as though she is drowning in it, desperately searching for something that resembles sense in this new reality Galinda has thrust upon her. She is too overcome to do anything but stare at Galinda, mouth agape, tears still trickling down her cheeks.
Galinda begins a slow descent towards her as she continues. “The only reason I fought for the match with Fiyero was so that I could have you. He is a decent man with means, and he is kind to you. I knew that we could live a good life together in his care. And that is all I have ever dreamed of."
They are face to face now as Galinda reaches out to clasp Elphaba’s hands in her own. "I cannot say precisely when it began. But somewhere in our years together, I found myself noticing the scent of your skin and the singular lilt of your laugh. I noted your wit and your stubborn streak, watching as you transformed from a scrappy girl into an utterly breathtaking woman with the softest hair and most soulful eyes. I felt your care and your loyalty until, all at once, you were no longer merely my best friend, but the object of all my desire."
If these words weren't enough to make her head spin, Galinda punctuates her words of devotion with a breathy, "I love you, Elphie," before she leans forward, cradling Elphaba's face reverently in her hands and captures her lips in a gentle kiss.
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Galinda POV
Kissing Elphaba was at once exactly as Galinda had imagined, and yet entirely different.
In her fantasies, Elphaba’s lips were always this soft and plush, her skin just as silk-smooth beneath her fingertips. Even the scent of lily oil in her hair was as intoxicating as she had dreamed. Had she the choice, Galinda could have stayed lost in her forever, as desire hummed up her spine.
But her lips tasted of salt, and Galinda had not expected their first kiss to be so marred by tears, nor had she envisioned this cold stillness. The Elphie of her daydreams had always been a passionate participant—one who would grasp at her waist and wind a hand through her hair, meeting her with a desperate need soaked vigour.
This Elphaba, however, remained frozen. Though her hand rested on Galinda’s shoulder, her lips offered no reciprocity.
Pulling back, Galinda allowed her eyes to flicker open. Elphaba stood utterly stunned; there was no light of pleasure in her expression, no sign that she had found any joy in Galinda’s touch. Staring fixedly at Elphaba, she sees the moment that her shock turns to regret.
And in that moment, Galinda has to acknowledge the tiny seed of doubt that had always lived in her chest. It told her that despite her own hopes and dreams, for Elphie, she might never be anything more than a true friend, dooming Galinda’s love and fervent desire to waste away unrequited. And as she watches this seed bloom into a reality across Elphie's lovely face, Galinda feels the last remaining intact shard of her heart shatter.
Turning around, she hides her face in her hands. "Get out," she growls at Elphaba, her voice quite foreign.
"Glin," Elphaba chokes out. But the sincere misery in her voice grinds at Galinda's flayed heart.
"GET OUT!" she shouts, her voice harsher still.
And it is only once she finally hears the gentle click of her door closing behind Elphaba, that she allows herself to sink to the floor. Framed by the tuile of her gown, she succumbs to her despair.