Chapter Text
Galinda steps back into her usual schedule with an ease that immediately makes Elphaba suspicious. Classes, club meetings, study circles, social tea. “I have a lot of catching up to do!” she chirps, breezing right past Elphaba when the older girl tries to tell her to slow down.
The thing is-- Elphaba knows it’s all a mask now. She can’t get the image of Galinda in that bathroom out of her head. Her sickly appearance, too frail and thin by far, her bones jutting out, her skin sallow, her eyes hollow and distant. She’d looked half-dead.
It’s a far cry from the Galinda who goes sweeping into the dining hall with her posse on her heels, skin glowing nearly as golden as her hair in the morning light. She looks just as poised as she did prior to the illness- and something about that deeply unsettles Elphaba.
She knows makeup can cover a lot. But…that much? Is it really all just clever amounts of makeup and carefully selected wardrobes? Galinda’s full-length sleeves hide her thin wrists and sharp shoulders. Her concealer masks the dark circles under her eyes. She puts on a grin that’s bright and white and charms anyone into believing she’s as perfect as can be.
Only Elphaba seems to see the signs. The subtle difference in her posture, stiff as she leans against her chair or braces herself on a desk. The heaviness of her footfalls that at the beginning of the semester used to bounce. A laugh that feels brittle around the edges, exhaustion pulling on every grin. Even her cheerful chatter has slowed, Galinda’s beautiful voice rarely heard above the clamor of her friends.
These same ‘friends’ hadn’t even noticed or cared about Galinda’s declining health. They’d been more interested in telling her how “lucky” she was to get out of class for several days. Lucky! It makes Elphaba’s blood boil. But Galinda is just too good at performing. Only Elphaba seems to notice the strained breaths, the skipped meals, the pressed lips and subtle swaying.
For all that she’s been going around telling everyone she’s “great” now, Elphaba knows Galinda isn’t even close to fully healed or fully healthy. Her sickness took a lot out of her when she already didn’t have much to give. It leaves Elphaba with a permanent ball of stress in her stomach, making her fretful and anxious as she watches over the girl.
Even now, as they sit at a table in the library, Elphaba is paying more attention to Galinda than to the assignment she’s meant to be finishing. It almost makes her laugh. Who would’ve thought Elphaba of all people would let some silly little crush get in the way of her studies?
Except it’s not just some silly little crush, her mind whispers. It’s more than that. So much more.
Elphaba shakes her head, forcing her gaze down towards her book. Finals are approaching, and the entire campus has started humming with that nervous, anticipatory energy that always comes with exam season. The library is already busier than usual; the first wave of students will only increase more and more as each day passes. Elphaba is one of very few not thinking about finals.
She’s thinking about Galinda, pale and tired-looking as she flips mindlessly through her large textbook, not even pretending to take notes.
“You should lie down,” Elphaba murmurs.
Galinda doesn’t look up. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” Elphaba argues softly. “You look--”
“Tired?” Galinda offers, her smile cracked and wry. “Ugly? A bit of a wreck?”
“…overextended,” Elphaba replies, ever diplomatic. Her lips twist. “Never ugly.”
Galinda’s smile twitches, then fades. Her eyes flick up briefly. “Well. Can’t let everyone down now, can I?”
Elphaba frowns. She wants to argue, to say you don’t have to prove anything to them, to anyone. But Galinda has always been like this-- driving herself too hard, too fast. As if her body’s most basic needs are a failing to be corrected.
Or a clock she’s racing against.
There’s something desperate in her these days, a breathless push toward a finish line Elphaba can’t see. A plan she hasn’t been told. A grief she isn’t allowed to know.
Because that’s the thing. Galinda is still grieving. That much, Elphaba knows for sure. Not who or how or when-- but she knows that shadow, the way it clings to Galinda, ever present even at her brightest. It’s part of why Elphaba knows it’s too early to speak the words sitting on her tongue.
(The other part is cowardice, but she can’t even admit that one to herself.)
Elphaba watches Galinda turn another page without reading it. She sighs and stands, gathering her books as Galinda looks up, curious. “I’m going to go to the restricted section,” Elphaba says pointedly, tipping her head toward the door near the back of the library. “If you would like to join me.”
Restricted section is essentially just code for window seat nap spot. They’d camped out there for study sessions or to hide from Galinda’s posse more than once since that first time when Galinda had fallen asleep on Elphaba’s lap. As Elphaba starts to head toward the entrance, she hears Galinda scramble to get her things together and follow.
Despite it only being a few yards to catch up, Galinda is panting and has to grab Elphaba’s arm to steady herself as they sneak into the supposed-to-be-locked section and close the door quietly. Elphaba eyes the staircase they have to take to get up a level to the window seat she’d found and makes a quick decision, stuffing her books in her bag and pulling it around to the front of her body.
“Here,” she beckons, crouching slightly and looking over her shoulder. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride up.”
“Elphaba, I can walk up a flight of stairs.”
“Just- just take the ride, Galinda.”
Let me help you.
Galinda huffs, bobbing from foot to foot for a second before she rolls her eyes and acquiesces. “I’m wearing a skirt,” she grumbles, clinging to Elphaba’s shoulder as the taller girl hoists her into the air. She’s still alarmingly light, but Elphaba will never get tired of the way she just seems to sink right into her, relaxing the second she’s held.
She climbs the stairs slowly, wanting to savor the moment of closeness. The feeling of having Galinda safe in her arms, not running off or pushing past her limits. Just- here. With Elphaba. She knows it’s selfish to feel so possessive, but…a part of Elphaba never wants to let Galinda go.
She slides the blonde off directly onto the padded seat, Galinda blinking up at her slowly, like the short trip had nearly put her to sleep. The late afternoon sun makes everything a little orange and hazy, but Elphaba’s grown used to the way the sight of Galinda makes her heart do tumbles in her chest, her breath stolen by the beauty of the girl in front of her.
Used to it…but never over it.
“Just a short nap,” Galinda concedes. Elphaba settles down beside her, taking both their bags and laying them at their feet. The window seat isn’t made for lying on, but Galinda is just small enough that she can curl up on her side, her head in Elphaba’s lap.
It feels like a lifetime ago-- the first time they did this. Right after the first breakdown or whatever that was that happened in Dillamond’s classroom. Galinda had been a zombie all day, and Elphaba had finally coaxed her into a nap. The feeling of the other girl’s body so close, her breath ghosting over Elphaba’s skin, her chest pushing against Elphaba’s legs with each exhale.
Those had all been so foreign back then. Now, the feeling of Galinda snuggling in and getting comfortable feels as natural as anything. There’s no stiffness or awkwardness. Elphaba isn’t holding her breath, careful of every movement or noise. She knows the exact rhythm of Galinda’s breathing as she settles, the soft hums she makes as Elphaba cracks a book open and starts to read.
She knows the second Galinda falls asleep.
Elphaba keeps reading for a few more minutes, just to make sure. But eventually, her voice trails off. Her eyes wander, even as one hand keeps carding softly through Galinda’s hair. Elphaba looks out the window at Shiz, a different landscape with the change of the seasons compared to the first time they did this.
Back then, Shiz had still been clinging to the last bits of summer, green and golden and warm. Now, it’s heading swiftly for Gillikin’s early winter, brown and barren and cold. The wind off the river rustles through the trees; the sky overhead is grey and dull.
Winter break is fast approaching. Shiz offers a generous break, long enough that most of the students--all of them from Gillikin--can travel home to their families for the holidays. Elphaba knows that despite the distance, Nessarose and Fiyero both plan on leaving, being able to afford quick transportation. Galinda hasn’t mentioned anything yet, but- it would make sense if she did, too.
Elphaba tries to imagine the campus without Galinda.
Tries to imagine returning to Munchkinland, the long boat ride home, her father’s disapproving silence. The servants’ tight-lipped comments. Nessa’s brittle attempts to understand her. No Galinda beside her in the dorm. No living sunshine to tell her it’s tomorrow. No dimpled smile to brighten her day.
She’s not sure she can do it.
She’s not sure she wants to.
The thought of being apart for even a few weeks feels wrong. Like leaving the house and wondering if you left the oven on or a fire unattended.
Elphaba looks down at Galinda, admiring her sleeping form, the way her fingers curl softly against her cheek.
How had she gotten so attached, so quickly?
Elphaba has lived her entire life at arm’s length from other people. She’s been mocked, feared, dismissed, avoided. Love was something she’d read about in books. Admiration, a thing she only knew how to extend to others but never expected in return.
But…Galinda is different. She likes Elphaba. Not just tolerates her. Likes her. She has from that very first day. For absolutely no reason at all, it was Elphaba who Galinda had approached and declared she would be friends with. She makes Elphaba feel normal. And wanted. And brave.
She is the only person Elphaba has ever met who makes her feel like she is enough.
And Elphaba loves her.
It isn’t a question anymore. It isn’t a secret churning through her head late at night. It’s a fact.
It’s just…she can feel, deep down, that Galinda doesn’t fully trust her. Not with everything. Perhaps not even with the most important things. There are walls Elphaba hasn’t climbed yet. Whole parts of Galinda’s life she hasn’t been allowed to see. And Elphaba knows that now isn’t the time to push.
So she won’t tell her. Not yet.
Elphaba will wait until Galinda’s ready. However long that takes.
***
With winter on the horizon, finals aren’t the only thing on the students’ minds. Elphaba was one of the first to hear the buzz, Galinda having been obsessing over it for weeks, even prior to getting sick.
“The Snowball is going to be the grandest event Shiz has hosted in years!” she’d say, shuffling through the many, many papers on her desk. “This will be the inaugural year, which will be just enticing enough to hopefully draw a good crowd from all over Oz!”
Elphaba wasn’t entirely sure why the school needed to host a winter ball where students from any Ozian college could attend--personally, she felt that it was a bit much, even for people like Galinda, to travel to Shiz just for a fancy dance--but the announcement had immediately brought a flood of excitement from the students. It was THE premier social event of the season!
…or so Elphaba was told.
Since the announcement and initial enthusiasm, things had largely died down a little. But break was creeping ever closer, and the Snowball had recently exploded in popularity once again. Why? Because apparently, now was the perfect time for the gentleman to start asking the ladies to be their dates.
“I don’t understand why we even need dates,” Elphaba grumbles. Another upperclassman had just asked a pretty redhead out in the quad. There’d been flowers and a sign and even a bit of singing-- altogether more flair than necessary. “It’s just a dance.”
“It’s not just anything, Elphaba!” Galinda scolds. She’s scribbling something in that pink notebook of hers she’s taken to bringing everywhere. Elphaba could almost swear she was tracking everyone who got asked out. “And it’s a ball, not a dance. Surely a governor’s daughter understands the difference.”
“A ball is just a stuffy dance.”
Galinda sighs loudly, shaking her head. “Hopeless,” she mutters fondly. Elphaba pretends not to hear her. She has a question that’s been on her mind all week, watching these proposals happen. After all- if having a date to the ball is so important…why hasn’t anyone asked Galinda?
Unless, of course, she’s already taken.
“Has, um, has anyone asked you to the dance?” Elphaba hedges. “Like, I mean, I’m just curious. Maybe…Fiyero?”
Elphaba can’t help the sharp sting of jealousy that hits her when she says Fiyero’s name. And she hates it- because she likes Fiyero. She does! It’s just…she sees how easy it is for him. To dance his way through life, never having to care what other people think because he knows their thoughts don’t matter to him in the slightest.
And she sees how well he gets on with Galinda. How perfect they look dancing together under the Ozdust lights or laughing over some silly joke. They just…click. Effortlessly. Fiyero is kind, and funny, and handsome, and rich. He’s a literal prince. He’s everything a girl like Galinda could possibly ask for, and he seems to really like Galinda.
Enough to spend so much time with her. From what Elphaba has read and seen of boys, they don’t often spend time around gorgeous single girls like Galinda unless there’s something else they’re hoping for. And Elphaba sees Galinda, too. Sees the way she sometimes looks at Fiyero, with this deep, aching sort of fondness, like she feels more than she can possibly say.
So. Jealousy. Elphaba can’t help but feel it, just a little.
“I-- what? Fiyero?” Galinda’s brow scrunches together briefly before her eyes blow wide, and she shakes her head several times. “No, no! No- I, we’re not, I haven’t-- no.” She giggles nervously, a crackly little sound unlike any Elphaba has heard before.
“Oh, sorry. I just- I mean, I assumed--”
“No, no, I lo-- Fiyero’s lovely, he is. I’ve not- um. I mean, I’m not--” Galinda shakes her head again and plasters on a stiff smile. “I’m one of the organizers of the event. I’m much too busy to be anyone’s date, really.”
“Oh. That…that seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it? You should get to enjoy it, too.”
“It’s fine, really! I much prefer it this way, I do.” Galinda nods rapidly, but it still looks stiff and fake. Elphaba bites her inner cheek, fighting the urge to duck her head as her cheeks darken at the awkward conversation she’s trapped herself in.
“You, um--” Galinda pauses, eyes flicking to the side and back again, not quite meeting Elphaba’s gaze. “You could go with Fiyero. If- if you wanted to.”
“I--”
What?!
Elphaba’s cheeks turn even darker, nearly burning with heat. She’s the one to shake her head vigorously this time, even going as far to put her hands up. “No, no, no,” she stutters. “I don’t-- I’m not-- yeah. I mean no. I mean-- I don’t want to date Fiyero!”
She slams her mouth shut hard enough to make her teeth rattle, cringing at how awful that rambly mess just sounded. Galinda is staring at her now, and Elphaba resists the urge to bring her hands to her face to check if her cheeks are actually on fire.
“I…didn’t mean it like that,” Galinda says softly. She nibbles at her bottom lip, rocking subtly on her heels. “At least-- I don’t think I did…”
She says it so pensively, her gaze turning oddly distant, that Elphaba’s befuddlement over the whole situation only grows. She shakes her head again, like maybe if she does it hard enough, it’ll reboot her brain into something resembling cohesive thought.
“I didn’t mean it like-- I know you didn’t mean that. Fiyero would obviously never date me. I meant, like, um, I don’t need to be his date. Or him, mine. For the Snowball! Or- or ever.”
Fucking Oz.
“Oh.”
Galinda looks up, frowning slightly. “Don’t say that. Fiyero would…I mean he- he might--”
“No, really, Galinda,” Elphaba cuts off. She takes a breath to steady herself, reaching out to put a hand on Galinda’s arm, stilling the nervous fidgeting she’s not sure Galinda realizes she’s doing. “It’s fine. I- I’m not interested in Fiyero. That’s all.”
Trying to salvage the situation, she offers Galinda a small smile. “Why don’t we just go to the Snowball together?”
“I-- What?”
“Well, I know you said you’re helping organize it, but you’re still going, right?”
Galinda blinks blankly and nods. “Uh huh.”
“Then let’s go together. Just you and me.” When that still gets nothing but a wide-eyed stare, Elphaba feels her cheeks start to flush again. “I- I mean--”
“Elphaba Thropp,” Galinda breathes, and Elphaba can’t tell if she sounds teasing or fond or what. “Are you asking me to be your date to the Snowball?”
Every thought in Elphaba’s brain screeches to an abrupt halt, her cheeks getting darker and darker as Galinda’s smile gets wider and wider. Elphaba stutters out several incomprehensible syllables of nothingness, her heart flip flopping in her chest because there’s-- there’s something about the way--
There’s just something about the way Galinda had asked, about the smile on her face, about the subtle brush of pink on her cheeks that matches her blouse, that makes Elphaba want to say yes.
So.
She does.
“I mean- sure. We-we can do that, right? Just go as two…friends?”
There’s the tiniest twitch to Galinda’s expression, almost like the tips of her lips turn down slightly before she’s beaming, nodding so quickly Elphaba is sure it was just a trick of her vision. “Of course!” Galinda chirps, and she’s already flipping her notebook open to scribble something new down.
“The girls all having escorts is super old-fashioned, anyway. Not everyone is doing it, especially us first years. Why- I happen to have it on good authority that Pfannee isn’t asking any of the girls! A lot of us are going to be breaking the mold this winter.”
Elphaba has a feeling there’s perhaps a slightly different reason for Pfannee not wanting to ask a girl to the ball, but she’ll keep that one to herself for now. She knows Galinda likes Pfannee, she does. And Elphaba doesn’t think Galinda is really like that, she doesn’t. But--
She’s Gillikenese. Northern Gillikenese. From a small mountain town. And from an old maternal line. Elphaba is no expert, but she’s heard the rumors. She knows the type. And if she brings it up, if she opens the floor to that kind of conversation with Galinda, then she- she might stumble into--
No. Don’t go there.
Elphaba bit down on her inner cheek hard enough to hurt. It was getting so much harder to stay focused around Galinda these days. It was getting so much harder to pretend.
“…and don’t forget!” Elphaba tunes back in just in time to hear, “that we’re all going shopping in the city this weekend! No one wants to be worrying about dresses during finals.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure I have something in my closet that will work. Can’t I just rewear what you made me for the welcome weekend?”
Galinda’s utterly affronted and frankly horrified expression makes it abundantly clear that Elphaba’s suggestion is about as reasonable as expecting a snowstorm in the summer. In Quadling Country. “You take that back!” she gasps, hand over her breast like she’s been sent reeling at the mere suggestion.
Her eyes are wide, her mouth is gaped, her brows are slanted. Elphaba abruptly feels all of her organs turn to goo at the fondness that floods her system. Galinda is…Galinda. And sometimes she’s frustrating or mystifying or stress-inducing. But sometimes she’s just so fucking adorable.
Knowing a lost cause when she sees one, Elphaba manages only the barest of eye rolls, her lips already pulling into a smile. “Fine,” she concedes, squashing down the almost nauseous wave of unbearable affection that rolls through her when Galinda all but squeals with delight.
“I didn’t think you’d fold that easily!” the blonde crows triumphantly, her whole body wiggling slightly before she seems to catch herself and freeze, a blush spreading across her face.
Elphaba doesn’t bother trying to hide her amusement. “You’ve dragged me out shopping plenty of times before,” she reminds, curious as to why this seems to make Galinda so excited. She hasn’t seen her so energetic and animated in what feels like…ages now. She briefly thinks that she would agree to anything to see Galinda look so alive again.
“This is different!” Galinda says. “This isn’t just casual clothes and random trinkets and something other than those Oz-awful blue shirts you keep wearing.”
…what’s wrong with blue shirts?
“This is a proper occasion!” Galinda’s eyes are sparkling, lit up and full of glee. Her dimple is popping out in full force under the strength of her smile. “For the first time, I’ll get to see you, Elphaba Thropp, in a BALLGOWN!”
Elphaba stares.
Elphaba swallows.
Elphaba feels her smile start to waver.
…shit.
***
The trip into Shiz City’s biggest shopping district ends up being way more involved than Elphaba expected. There’s a whole gaggle of students coming along, and instead of being a private trip with Galinda like Elphaba had pictured, it’s instead a rowdy group of college kids trying not to capsize the boat into the water as they head downstream.
It’s chilly on the river, the autumn breeze snapping at them. Elphaba pulls her thick black coat tighter around herself and frowns over at Galinda on the other end of the boat. She’s nodding along to something Milla is saying, the other girl talking a mile a minute, and as per usual, she’s wearing a pretty pink dress that floats to only mid-thigh.
She has on tights today, at least. But they’re thin and useless, the breeze surely cutting right through them. And instead of a long coat like Elphaba, Galinda had opted for a sort of strange cardigan thing that, while made with heavy wool, is so loose-knit it can’t possibly be retaining any heat. She looks beautiful. But she also looks like she’s freezing.
Ridiculous, Elphaba thinks. Maybe while they’re shopping in the city, they can buy Galinda some proper winter clothes. It’s almost impressive how much stuff Galinda owns that simply isn’t practical in the slightest. Although- it’s perhaps even more impressive that Galinda doesn’t actually seem that bothered by the cold.
She’s not even shivering!
Elphaba shakes her head, tearing her gaze away from Galinda and settling it back on the water. She can see the docks looming up ahead, plenty of them already packed full of other people’s boats who were just as eager to get to the city for a fun weekend outing. The group disembarks without issue, and Elphaba finds an arm sneaking around hers just moments after her boots touch solid ground.
“This is going to be great!” Galinda exclaims, beaming up at Elphaba. Behind her, ShenShen and Pfannee nod along, jabbering something in agreement that Elphaba easily blocks out. She looks down at Galinda instead, taking in the genuine joy in her expression.
And- it might not be what she’d been hoping for for the weekend. But she’s sure it’ll still be a good time. Besides. Isn’t this what she’d always wanted? To just be a part of the crowd?
Galinda leads the way like she always does, with that particular blend of bounce and decorum that turns heads. Even outside of the University, she’s got a way of drawing people to her, like a magnet nobody would ever want to turn off. Elphaba trails just half a step behind, letting Galinda tug on her arm a bit. It’s easier to watch Galinda when the blonde doesn’t know she’s looking.
Elphaba’s been doing that a lot lately-- watching Galinda. Studying the way she holds herself up when she’s tired, the way she straightens her spine whenever they pass someone she knows. The faint shadow that still lingers in her expression, over a week after the fever broke.
Elphaba is glad that Galinda seems so excited for this little outing. But even as she grins fondly at the gasp of delight Galinda makes when she sees the way the city has started decorating for the upcoming harvest festival, she can’t help but feel that familiar seed of worry start to worm itself back into attention.
Galinda is pushing herself too hard again; Elphaba can feel it. Every word she says is a little too quick, a little too full of sparkly deflection. Like she’s trying to keep up with something only she can see. A clock Elphaba isn’t privy to.
“Elphaba, here! Look!”
But-- what is she supposed to do about it? What more can she do other than be there for Galinda and hope her support is enough to keep her from falling?
“It’s gorgeous,” Elphaba remarks, watching Galinda run her finger reverently over the glittering edge of an artisan’s creation, tracing the maple leaf shape. There are several of these booths lining the cobbled streets of the market, growing more sparse as they get further into the city and toward the bigger, more glamorous stores.
“Oh, I just love harvest season,” Galinda sighs, a wistful note to her voice as she leans against Elphaba’s side. The carefully crafted artwork perfectly replicates a fallen leaf, complete with a mix of golden orange colors, delicate veining, and frosted white edges.
Despite her clear desire, Galinda manages to pass on from the beautiful glass leaf, though Elphaba makes sure to mark the booth in her mind in case she needs any ideas for the upcoming holiday. The harvest festival would mark the end of autumn, and once winter started, it wouldn’t be long until Lurlinema came.
They continue on their way, heading away from market stands and more toward proper storefronts, the glass windows displaying all manner of items to tempt the shoppers’ minds. Plenty of Galinda’s friends had already veered course to purchase something new, but the blonde had stayed determined to her path.
“You really don’t have to buy me a dress,” Elphaba mumbles again, though by this point she’s largely resigned to whatever Galinda has in store.
“But I want to!”
“It’s just a school event. I’m not going to look much different whether I wear something new or not.”
“You’ll look beautiful,” Galinda says without missing a beat.
Elphaba blinks.
It’s said so casually, so matter-of-fact. Admiring Galinda, being taken off guard by the sheer beauty of Galinda-- that Elphaba can get used to. But having herself appreciated in return? Well. That- that just made no sense.
Galinda finally looks up, her smile small but genuine. “Come on. The dressmaker’s right around the corner.”
The shop is warm inside, all scented fabric and bright lights and girls laughing softly over pinned hems. Galinda is in her element, cooing over textures and coaxing Elphaba into trying things she never would have picked up herself. She doesn’t push too hard, though, and she asks before pulling anything too pink or sparkly.
“Galinda,” Elphaba says at one point, not even bothering to try and to soften the long-suffering sigh. Galinda blushes, cheeks nearly the same color as the dress she’d tried holding up.
“But- pink goes good with green!”
“Goes well- and that doesn’t mean I want to wear a whole dress of it. Why don’t you keep something like that in mind for yourself?”
Galinda’s nose wrinkles slightly. “Oh no- this wouldn’t work for me at all,” she says, quickly putting the dress back on the rack. Elphaba isn’t sure whether to be offended or amused at the girl’s clear disdain for something she was about to suggest for Elphaba.
She supposes she should just count herself lucky that she’d managed to convince Galinda away from the even more ridiculously overpriced custom options, insisting they simply didn’t have the time for all the measurements and appointments before the ball.
“Alright,” Galinda had conceded. “But you have to let me tailor it myself!”
And as much as she didn’t want to add anything else to Galinda’s plate, Elphaba knew her only possible response was: “Promise.”
So now, they’re perusing through the store’s admittedly quite vast array of fabrics and designs that in some ways resemble a gown. Not that Elphaba is any expert. She’s about halfway through pretending to examine a sleeve detail when she hears it.
“Excuse me--excuse me--I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”
The voice is sharp. Annoyed. Too loud for this little shop of politeness and pleasantry. Elphaba’s turning before she even realizes her curiosity’s been piqued.
Near the door, an Animal--a female Gazelle it appears--is standing uncertainly with half her body inside, dressed plainly but neatly. A shop attendant is blocking her path, arms crossed, voice wobbling in that fake-polite way people use when they’re about to do something awful and want to sound justified.
“Oh, I’m just- I’m just picking up a dress,” the Gazelle says, voice light and measured. “It’s already paid for.”
“I understand, but we have customers--human customers--inside right now. They’re shopping for a special occasion and won’t wish to be disturbed.”
“You’re suggesting that my mere presence would be a disturbance to your customers?” The Gazelle’s ears droop a bit in disappointment, but her voice says this isn’t a surprise.
“I’m asking you to please wait your turn,” the attendant hisses. “Surely anyone civilized would understand.” It appears the attendant has given up on the fakeness as more and more customers turned their heads toward the scene.
The Gazelle says nothing. Neither does anyone else. The shop, so full of chatter a moment ago, has gone still and quiet and small. Elphaba feels a strange buzzing take hold of her, a righteous, indignant sort of energy that urges her to take a step forward.
Galinda’s hand on her arm stops her.
Elphaba stiffens. “Did you see that?” she whispers harshly.
“I did,” Galinda says quietly.
“I’m going to--”
“Elphaba,” Galinda says, still so soft, “please don’t.”
Elphaba turns sharply to look at her.
Galinda’s hand is still on her arm, gently pressing, gently pleading. Her expression is calm. But her eyes-- they’re swirling with a mix of emotions, turbulent and conflicted.
She’s angry, too. Elphaba can see it mixed in there. A fire that matches the one building in her own veins. But she isn’t moving. Content to stand and watch, silently, just like the rest of the shop.
“Why not?” Elphaba hisses. “She’s done nothing wrong.”
“I know.”
“Then why--”
“Because this shop is full of people. And that attendant is just waiting for a real reason to ban that Gazelle. Permanently.” Galinda’s voice is low, urgent. “You stepping in right now gives them the scene they’re looking for.”
Elphaba opens her mouth, furious--
But Galinda’s hand tightens warningly. This shop is full of people, Elphaba hears again. She darts a glance sideways, noticing the other students around them. Some have gone determinedly back to their shopping, trying to ignore what’s happening near the door. Some are giggling under their breath from behind a clothing rack just nearby. And some others are making faces, whispering to each other in a way that makes Elphaba’s hands curl into fists.
Is this what Galinda sees? Is this what she cares about? Not the injustice happening right in front of her…but the people she may offend by speaking out? It doesn’t matter if, deep down, she knows that’s not who Galinda is. Can see the fraught emotions in her eyes.
It’s who she’d rather the world see her as. Always caring more about what other people may think than what she really wants. Elphaba has always admired so many things about Galinda. But this…this makes her chest twist in an altogether different kind of way.
“Please, Elphaba,” Galinda tries. “You can’t just go fly-- You can’t be so impulsive. Think this through. We’ll get the Gazelle’s dress for her, that way, everyone wins, okay?”
“She doesn’t,” Elphaba growls. Her muscles flex, straining against Galinda’s grip, but her feet don’t move. She’s torn-- trying to figure out whether to do what she knows is right or listen to the girl beside her.
It’s just--
That look in the Gazelle’s eyes. That resigned weariness in her voice. Like a part of her had been expecting that sort of treatment. Grown used to it. Accepted it, even. It reminded Elphaba of the way she’d been before…well, before Galinda.
How can the girl who made her feel so welcomed for the very first time turn around and allow such treatment to happen to someone else? Someone who isn’t even hideodeous or strange, but simply…different.
“It isn’t right,” Elphaba says, one last time. But the fight has drained out of her. The Gazelle has already turned to walk away, and everyone else seems to be relieved to have avoided any further dramatics. Galinda sighs beside her and bumps Elphaba’s shoulder with her forehead.
“I know,” she replies.
Galinda gently tugs Elphaba back toward the dress rack. Elphaba lets herself be moved, but her mind is roaring. They go through the motions-- measuring, choosing, paying. Elphaba hears none of it. She’s watching Galinda. Watching how her mouth is tight but her voice is too smooth as she asks to bring the Gazelle’s package to her, leaning in with a charming whisper and wink.
The woman at the counter seems hesitant, but obliges under the weight of Galinda’s persuasion. They head to the door with two beautiful ballgowns wrapped carefully in waterproof protection. And a simple brown bag with a mess of fabric in the bottom.
Outside, the air bites at them. It isn’t hard to find the Gazelle nearby, handing over the bag with a few polite pleasantries. Elphaba tries to tune in again, tries to get the Gazelle’s name, let her know that Elphaba is sorry, but she isn’t sure she manages it. Her throat feels clogged and her mind feels stuffed and she just--
Oz, she doesn’t know what to feel.
***
They end up at a cafe, Elphaba enjoying the shelter of warmth as she muses over the proceedings from earlier. Galinda hasn’t said much either, toying idly with her mug of hot apple cider. Her gaze keeps slipping-- off into the street, to the pedestrians, to the stalls selling scarves and sweets and charms. She’s always observing, always listening, but Elphaba sees how hard she’s working to look at ease.
“You should take a nap when we get back,” Elphaba suggests gently. “You need the rest.”
Galinda’s smile tilts. “I know.”
“You say that, but then I catch you organizing an entire flower delivery system for the Snowball at three in the morning.”
“Well, someone has to make sure everything runs smoothly, and I think we all know if ShenShen were left in charge there’d be no decorations at all.”
“I don’t think Shiz will crumble without floral centerpieces.”
“I think it would absolutely crumble without floral centerpieces.”
Despite herself, Elphaba huffs a soft laugh, and Galinda grins. It’s moments like this that throw Elphaba off balance-- when Galinda sparkles just enough to make her forget how thin she’s stretched. But then the sparkle dims too quickly, and she sets her cup down with trembling hands, and the weight comes crashing back.
They sit in silence for a while. Galinda’s cider cools untouched. The bells over the shop entrance chime every few minutes, and the sky begins to turn a pale amber over the rooftops. Elphaba doesn’t know what to say.
There’s something between them she can’t name. Not a wall, exactly-- more like a sheet of glass. Transparent, but impenetrable. She can see Galinda’s sadness. Her strain. Her exhaustion. But she can never touch it.
She wants to reach across the table, take Galinda’s hand again. She doesn’t. Elphaba knows she’s still on edge because of earlier. She knows that the anger she’d felt is still curled somewhere in her chest, a coiled hurt like heartburn leaving her feeling awkward and on edge.
She’d just--
She’d felt so helpless.
“Elphaba,” Galinda finally says, voice soft as she ducks her head to catch Elphaba’s eyes. “Hey, look at me.”
Elphaba does, trying to wipe her face to something expressing neutrality. The way Galinda looks at her though makes her think the blonde is able to see right through the attempt. Galinda has always had this way of seeing Elphaba. It’s…it’s one of the things Elphaba loves about her.
“Elphaba, I’m-- I hated that incident at the shop just as much as you did. Trust me.”
Trust me.
Galinda always did have a knack for reading minds. Elphaba swallows hard. “Then why didn’t you say anything? Or- or let me say something?”
“I told you, it would’ve just caused a scene and made everything worse. She wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“You can’t know that. She would’ve wanted to be treated like a person! Like any other customer!”
“I-- Yes, of course. But Elphaba, can’t you see it was already past that point?”
The thing is- Elphaba can kind of understand it. Now that she’s had a chance to sit and ruminate and drown her bubbling frustration with a mug of cider. She can get how Galinda could’ve thought that way. It’s just--
She’s not entirely sure that is why Galinda didn’t say anything. It sounds great and logical, sure. But it also sounds…shallow. Flat. Like an excuse. A cover. Because Elphaba remembers the way Galinda’s eyes had skittered around, the way her voice was strained and soft.
This shop is full of people.
Did Galinda really stop Elphaba because she wanted to help the Gazelle…or because she, Galinda Upland, didn’t want to make a scene? Didn’t want to draw attention? Didn’t want to oppose the stance her friends had taken?
…didn’t think the Gazelle counted as one of the people?
Elphaba imagines herself stepping forward, brushing off Galinda’s hand and calling out the cruelty for what it was. Maybe they’d have kicked her out. Maybe worse. Maybe it wouldn’t have helped the Gazelle at all. So maybe Galinda was right. But the thought still stings-- because maybe it wouldn’t have.
Elphaba breathes out slowly, measured. Her thoughts and feelings are too tangled to interpret at the moment, and she doesn’t know what to think. She stays silent for now, simply nodding slowly and letting the whole thing drop. She can see something flash across Galinda’s face, like she wants to keep trying, but as Elphaba takes a pointed sip of her cider, the blonde clearly gets the hint.
They gather their things not long after that, making their way back into the cold. Galinda’s hand feels hesitant as she slips it into Elphaba’s, Elphaba pulling her in easily. She has a lot to think about, but her feelings for Galinda haven’t changed just because now she’s even more confusifying.
“Elphaba?” Galinda’s voice comes. “Are- are you mad at me?”
There’s an almost childish worry to the words, a hint of nostalgic energy that Elphaba can’t quite grasp the context of. “No, of course not,” she says swiftly. She looks down, catching Galinda’s eyes and making a point to soften.
“I’m not mad at you, Galinda. I’m…frustrated. By what we saw. But not mad at you.”
Galinda’s eyes search Elphaba’s face, looking for a lie. Elphaba can’t help but wonder if she sees one. If there is one to be found. But the idea of Galinda thinking they’re at odds makes Elphaba feel almost sick, and as much as she was torn back there, she knows she’d still follow Galinda anywhere.
“Okay,” Galinda whispers. She leans into Elphaba’s arm, eyes sliding shut for just a moment. “Do you like your dress?”
The change in topic is welcomed, even though Elphaba honestly barely even remembers what dress Galinda ended up buying for either of them. She’s sure they’re both stunning though, as is everything Galinda picks out. “I love it,” Elphaba replies, and her voice doesn’t falter.
That gets a fleeting smile, Galinda humming warmly. “Good,” she says. Then she spins suddenly, getting in front of Elphaba and leaving the girl to stumble awkwardly to a stop lest she run straight into her.
“What--”
Galinda grins, both hands reach out to grasp Elphaba’s own. The breeze blows gently through her long golden locks, her hands cool even through the layers of fabric over Elphaba’s.
“Elphaba Thropp,” Galinda says, tone warm but serious. Weighted. “Will you be my date to the Snowball?”
“I-- Didn’t I already ask you this?”
Galinda’s grin widens. “But I never asked you.”
Bubbles of amusement tug at Elphaba’s lips, the previous tangle of worry and doubt fleeing in the face of Galinda’s bright energy, her infectious delight. My date, she’d said. This time, it sounded different than my friend.
This time, Elphaba almost does falter, but she gets the word out anyway. “I would love to,” she breathes. And when Galinda’s face lights up, when she giggles like a schoolchild and leans into her, there is no room in Elphaba’s heart for speculation and worry and doubt.
There is only room for Galinda.