Chapter Text
Chapter One: Butterfly Kisses
“...because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”
It was a goodbye as much as it was a vow. A lament of what could have been – of what should have been. Of what could never be. Fate had played them all for fools, but none more so than Glinda Upland. She’d popped her bubble too late and had damned them all. Every last member of their charmed circle. Now it was just her and Elphie, and all they could do was love one another from afar, and hurt each other up close. Always in each other’s orbits instead of in each other’s arms. Instead of being written together in the stars, they were star-crossed, and their paths, she was devastated to learn, were destined never to cross again.
She threw her arms around her Elphie, sobs ripping through her small frame. I’ll never get to hug her again. Her face turned and buried itself in the other woman’s finely woven hair, inhaling so deeply that she hoped Elphaba’s scent would linger in her lungs long enough that her hair oils would start to waft moss and pine.
She was going to forget what Elphie smelled like one day.
Her hands ran over her best friend; over her strong arms to her narrow waist. To her cheekbones, then her nose. She tried to memorize every curve. Every hitch of her breath, each freckle. Maybe, if she had just one more second, she would be able to replicate it all in her memory, over and over, like her favourite record.
Glinda felt Elphie doing the same. She sniffled into her pale hair, crying into her shoulder and soaking the thin, pale blue material there. They’d never touched each other so thoroughly like this before. And instead of being able to take their time, their touches were desperate and pleading. They were an apology and a greeting, and over far too quickly. But even with the clock against them – with fate itself against them – Elphaba paused to rest their foreheads against each other.
Glinda couldn’t help but whimper against her best friend’s face as their noses brushed together in a far more intimate way than any kiss she’d shared with Fiyero. “Elphie,” she heard herself beg, though for what, she didn’t know. Perhaps she was begging her to stay and rip the bandage off quickly; to leave with it wrapped around her, or perhaps to beg for more.
She wanted more time.
“You can’t be seen here with me. You have to go, Glinda. They can never know you were here.” Now it was Elphie begging and, oh, it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair. This time, she would go…she would get on the broom. She wouldn’t be left behind again.
Except she was.
Elphaba ushered her over to a closet, having to strong-arm Glinda, who fought every step of the way. “No! No, Elphie!” She wept. She feared the closing of the door, because that would be that. The person she loved most in the world would be gone from hers forever. Every single person she cared about was gone. It would just be her now. Alone.
But Elphaba wasn’t closing the door. Not yet. She stared at Glinda as though she were weighing Glinda’s soul in her very hands. If that were the case, she would fail her Elphie once again. Her soul was far from good, far from light. She saw that now. She was no pure thing and never had been. She could try to be, if it wasn’t too late for that. Elphie must’ve decided that she was still worthy of something, because she surged forward, Glinda meeting her halfway purely out of instinct. As though they’d done this a thousand times before, and would a thousand after.
Except this would be both their first and their last.
The kiss was everything she didn’t know she’d ever wanted, and everything she didn’t think she could’ve had. How had she not known that this was what she’d wanted all along? How had she ever convinced herself she wanted Fiyero more than Elphie? How had she ever fooled herself into believing she wanted fame more than Elphie? How was it possible to be so separated from herself and her own desires?
Because they were all trapped outside that stupid pink bubble.
And now they’re all rushing in. Too little, too late. Far too late.
Glinda couldn’t fight the bitterness, knowing that she wasn’t Elphie’s first kiss or first choice. The bitterness shifted to guilt because Fiyero was dead. She was jealous of a dead man that she’d helped kill. A dead man who’d been braver than her, better than her, and had gone after Elphaba. He’d both left with her and left for her.
Glinda hadn’t left. She hadn’t even thought about it (that’s a lie that’s a lie that’s a lie). She’d been too scared of losing the privilege of childish ignorance. But the outcome had been the same anyway. She’d lost it all regardless, within painful self-awareness.
And somehow, with all of this swirling around inside of her like Morrible’s storm, she was able to fully give herself over to the kiss, accepting it for what it was: the twilight of their time together. The last setting sun on the last day, their stars finally falling, ephemeral streaks across the night sky, like the tears streaking down their faces.
The kiss itself felt like:
Elphie whispering, I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea.
It felt like a wave upon the shore; it felt like coming home.
But eventually the tide would recede and take her back out to the open ocean. Alone.
Always alone.
Does that mean it’ll one day return?
No, don’t wish. Don’t start. I’m not that girl anymore.
It didn’t stop her from yearning for Elphie. From wanting to scream, You know that you’re not alone. I need you like water in my lungs.
The kiss also felt like:
Their dance. The moment it all changed. The moment she’d both befriended and condemned Elphie.
A pink rose.
‘Pink goes good with green.’
‘Goes well with green.’
‘It so does.’
‘Why Miss Elphaba, you’re beautiful.’
That one perfect, golden day amongst the poppies.
Butterflies landing on their fingers in that field. Glinda leaning over and brushing her lashes against Elphie’s cheek with a giggling shriek of, ‘Butterfly kisses!’
‘If you needed someone…You could’ve picked me.’
I hope you get what your heart desires.
‘Come with me!’
An even shorter day in the sun, when they were still just girls. Wide-eyed and hopeful. Dreaming of a future together they’d only begun to fathom the true nature of – the endless depth within.
Of farewells and I hope you’re happys.
Of reunions, and dancing under rainbows. Just girls again, wide-eyed and hopeful.
Broomsticks and hands held, eyes meeting again like that fateful day. Their stars were pink and green. They’d overlapped for the first time, blended together. Of course, only the fake ones would.
Their hands held each other’s faces, thumbs stroking cheeks, wiping away tears as they fell. It reminded her of the Ozdust. Reminded her of her quiet, it’s okay. They moved in perfect sync, fitting so painfully, perfectly together. It stitched her heart up and broke it anew. She tried to lie with her fingers, trying to convince Elphie that it would be okay. No, trying to convince herself.
Another lie she told herself. It’ll be okay.
As though reading her mind, Elphie pulled away and gasped for air, and as though comforting Glinda was second nature to her, she smiled instinctively and whispered, “You’re gonna be fine.”
What came next seemed easier than breathing. Her exhale…part revelation, part confirmation. Just three words: “I love you.” ‘I love you,’ as in, ‘Of course I love you. How could I not? Of course I love you, how could you ever doubt that? Of course I love you. Of course of course of course...’
Elphie must’ve thought it so obvious. How long had Elphaba known? How long had Glinda been so ignorant? How long had it been?
Since, ‘you’re green.’
Choking back a sob, Glinda let it all fill her at once, the words flowing more naturally than her tears. “I love you, too.”
She’d been in love with her this whole time.
Now it was too late.
And Elphaba had known. Her eyes were filled with so much apology, so much pain, at being the bearer of this secret for so long. But you didn’t have to be! Why didn’t you tell me?
Because it should’ve been you, her traitorous mind whispered to her, sounding too much like Morrible for her own liking. You should’ve been brave for her for once.
But that wasn’t true. She’d been the first person to be brave for Elphie. Just not when it truly mattered.
“I should’ve gotten on that broom.” Glinda couldn’t help but plead for one last forgiveness, as though saying the words would make the Time Dragon Clock move backwards.
Elphaba chuckled sadly and shook her head. “I should’ve stayed.”
Another sob choked Glinda as she rushed forward one last time, needing to be the one to do this. It may be too late to change anything but it was never too late to be brave and do the right thing. Elphie had taught her that. And Elphie deserved a moment of braverism.
Glinda kissed her fiercely. Tears fell from her lashes, making them flutter against Elphaba’s cheek. “Butterfly kisses,” she heard her Elphie whisper reverently, looking around as a new sort of bubble encasing them. A cloud of pink and green butterflies, trailing matching glittery magic in their wake. Magic that swirled around Glinda’s wrists from where her hands cradled Elphie’s face.
“Glinda, you have magic,” Elphaha whispered in awe but she didn’t seem surprised. If anything, she looked relieved. She had magic. Her heart’s desire once upon a time. Now she’d give it all up if it meant Elphie would stay for once.
‘I should’ve stayed.’
Then stay! Stay now! Don’t leave me just as I’ve gotten you.
Neither woman spoke, though, as they watched each butterfly land, one by one, on Elphaba’s body. Wings fluttered, and it was Glinda who said, “butterfly kisses.” But before she could say anything further, Elphie pushed her back into the closet, that cloud of pink and green following her.
“Hold out if you can,” her Elphie pressed against her lips, kissing her one last time before slamming the closet door shut. Muffled through the door she heard the last words she’d ever hear from her best friend: “Hold out, my sweet.”
What came next were the worst thirty seven seconds of her life. The moment she had to watch through a crack in the door as the one and only person she’d ever truly loved – the most important of them all – slowly melted into nothingness, washed away like writing upon the sand.
As though she’d never been there at all.
‘I do believe I have been changed for the better.’
How is this better, Elphie?
And that was the last time Glinda Upland saw Elphaba Thropp alive.
Or so she thought.
Elphaba waited underneath the trapdoor.
The moments right after her ‘melting’ were some of the worst she’d ever endured. Possibly even the worst. Because she knew what was happening right above her. Glinda had no doubt emerged from the closet right now, and was finding the aftermath of Elphaba’s confrontation with that child; that…Dorothy…
Elphaba choked out a heaving sob, biting down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. She needed to be quiet. If Glinda caught even a whiff of her presence down here, then it would all be for naught. She knew Glinda would forgive her for the charade and all the lies she was about to tell. But it wouldn’t stop the look of utter hurt – no, of devastation – from playing across those soft features. Especially after all their hidden truths had come to light at last. It wouldn’t stop the tears, betrayed looks, and utter sorrow that she was so good at displaying. Elphaba was no better than that Lion cub who was now all grown up.
Because she, too, was a coward.
But knowing that didn’t change anything. She was still about to make the hardest decision of her life, and hated herself just a little bit more with every breath she took.
She could practically feel Glinda’s presence right above her. It was like a storm cloud she couldn’t escape. Not that she wanted or deserved to. Elphaba deserved to soak in the ramifications of her own misery for what she was about to put her love through. Of what she was about to put them all through. She told herself it was necessary, and perhaps it was. No. She knew it was. This was for the good of all Oz and the people who called this land their home.
And so she stayed.
She stayed through the muffled tears of the devastated woman above her. She stayed through the shattering of her own broken heart. She stayed through the whispered words and broken promises flitting around inside her heart, breaking it more with every breath. The pain was nearly unbearable, yet Elphaba endured.
It was no less than she deserved. She would sit through it all.
Eventually the sobs disappeared, and she was met with silence once more. Elphaba didn’t know if that meant Glinda was finally gone, but she didn’t let herself think about it. She couldn’t bear the thought of her sweet disappearing from her side forever, even if it was her own doing.
The tears that had steadily streamed down her cheeks now flowed freely from her eyes. She could hardly see in the surrounding darkness, though she supposed that didn’t matter. There was nothing to see, even if she could. Soon enough she could no longer hold back the sobs that had been threatening to escape her throat ever since she’d closed that closet door, sealing both of their fates with one final twist of a knob. She hunched over, wrapping her arms around her middle as she slid uselessly to the floor. What had she done? She’d always lamented her loneliness. She’d carried it with her like a second shadow – persistent and invading, and completely inescapable. She wrapped it around herself now, letting it warm her like an invisible blanket.
And that was the catalyst. Images invaded her mind, unbidden and completely unwanted as she crumpled in a broken heap on the floor. The harder she tried pushing them away, the more insistent they became, until they were soon crushing her entire spirit; haunting both her soul and her heart, until there was no room left for anything else.
Frolicking hand-in-hand with Glinda (or Galinda, as she was known back then) through the open field, the laughter of their best friends behind them.
The joy of carefree days – of sunlight on their skin, of time spent in the company of those she loved and cared about more than she ever could have hoped for.
The feeling of freedom as it all washed over her. Of letting her guard down and realizing, perhaps for the first time in her life, that there could actually be people in this world who would like and accept her for who she was, and not abhor and reject her simply because of her appearance.
Elphaba wished more than anything in that moment that there was a way to go back and relive that time in her life. She’d taken it for granted back then but she would give anything to go back to it now. She’d never realized how blessed she’d been until it had all been taken from her.
And now she’d never have that again.
Perhaps if she’d had more time and success with the Grimmerie, things could’ve been different. She’d made strides, but she’d been a long way from cracking the mysterious, ancient language that was nearly impossible to decipher. For all she knew, maybe there was a spell hidden within the worn, dusty pages of that ancient spellbook that would allow for something so impossible.
But she’d never know. All she could do now was stew in the what-ifs and live out those happy moments of the past in her mind.
Which is exactly what she did.
Time seemed to drag on endlessly in the darkness underneath the trapdoor. It both froze and carried on, taunting Elphaba with its unending cruelty. Elphaba didn’t bother sitting up. She let the darkness pull her in, just like the loneliness that was so palpable she could practically touch it. Her mind soon began to jump from the past to the present – specifically to the last moments that had led her here.
Every time she closed her eyes she was greeted with the tears of the woman she loved. It was a sight she didn’t think she’d ever forget. Glinda truly was like a handprint on her heart, for better or worse. Elphaba tried clinging to the good times, but they were now clouded over by that final sight of her, clutching the Grimmerie to her chest, almost like a shield. As though that would do anything to guard against the pain Elphaba insisted on inflicting upon her. But Glinda was strong. So much stronger than she knew. She had magic now. It had been like witnessing one last parting gift.
One she didn’t deserve.
Elphaba had meant it when she’d said that Glinda could do all that she couldn’t do. It was the truth, even if the blonde wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge it.
Elphaba had faith in her. Soon enough Glinda would have faith in herself as well.
The minutes stretched into hours. At least Elphaba assumed they did. Time had quickly lost all meaning down here. All she had to go by were her aching back and dry, burning eyes. She felt like a husk of herself – like half a person. Her chest felt like a hollowed out shell, especially where her heart had once been. It was silent save for the occasional rasping sob and choked breath. She still felt the ghost of the kiss on her lips – felt Glinda’s presence even if she was alone. She clung to it just as Glinda had clung to that old spellbook, because it was all she had. She clung to Glinda and let herself pretend, just for this moment, that she was here and that the blonde was hers. It was selfish and maybe a bit torturous, but Elphaba couldn’t help herself. If she didn’t, she would either go mad or change her mind and run back to Glinda, once and for all.
But she didn’t. In the end, she stuck to the plan, even if she hated herself that much more for it.
The silence was threatening to engulf her, slowly driving her mad, by the time she heard the slow, drawn out creak up above.
Elphaba sat up, ignoring the weary ache in her bones and the emptiness in her heart as the trapdoor above her was slowly pulled open, letting in the light at last.
She blinked, holding a hand up to ward off the worst of it, as the silhouette of a man stared down upon her. He held out a hand, which she took, grateful for the aid, even if she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she didn’t deserve it. But she climbed the tiny staircase anyway, pulling herself out of the darkness and back into the light of the world once more.
The man stepped back to allow her room to move, and though Elphaba needed to see him – to make sure he was really here and not simply a figment of her lonely imagination – she couldn’t help but cast her glance around the chamber in which she found herself, searching desperately for any sign of the only person she truly wished to see.
But Glinda was gone, just as Elphaba knew she’d be. It didn’t dull the ensuing stab of pain at finding the blonde gone, or the ache in her hollow heart which was only growing stronger by the minute. This was her doing, after all. Elphaba had planned this.
That didn’t make it any easier to live with.
“Hey.”
The voice shook her out of her misery long enough to turn around and fully take in her companion for the first time. He knelt before her so they were at eye level, though she wasn’t completely sure that made it any better. But she smiled anyway, grateful to have someone with her, such as it was.
And when she looked into his eyes – those familiar, wide, impossibly brown eyes that belonged to the man she liked but not the woman she truly wanted – her smile widened. For the first time since she’d made her fateful decision to go into hiding and leave behind everything and everyone she cared about, she was starting to think that maybe it would be okay.
The walk toward the Badlands wouldn’t be ideal, but at least Elphaba could say she’d have a pretty view. The sun cast a magnificent shine along the otherwise dry, desolate landscape ahead, though the horizon was bathed in a pale light that was pleasing to the eye. Fiyero held her hand, and even though it wasn’t the hand she wanted to be holding, it at least gave her strength to keep moving forward.
Every step away from Oz felt like a betrayal, but every step away from Glinda felt like a stab straight to the heart. She told herself she wouldn’t turn around and she’d meant it, but…
Glinda’s presence stopped her in her tracks. So strong that it felt as though she were right there beside her.
Elphaba paused, spinning around, half expecting to find the familiar blonde behind her. Or at least a ghostly apparition of her. But she was only greeted by the familiar outline of the city in the far off distance. The past seemed to stare back at her, taunting both her and her decisions, almost daring her to return.
And, for just a moment, Elphaba was almost tempted. To run back to Glinda and beg forgiveness for every seemingly innocuous decision that had led them to where they are now. But she couldn’t. It was much too late for her, and Glinda…well, she could do more good for Oz without Elphaba’s shadow bearing down on all of them. Her reputation was too good, and the people trusted her because of it. No. Glinda would be fine.
That didn’t stop her from taking a moment and letting herself think about Glinda one last time. She sensed Fiyero stop a little ways off in the distance, but she ignored him as the light of her sweet girl filled her one last time. She imagined Glinda standing somewhere, the Grimmerie somewhere nearby, looking out and doing the same thing that Elphaba was right now. Searching futilely for one last glimpse. Maybe a sign that all was going to be well, and that the right decisions had been made.
Elphaba wasn’t sure if they were the right decisions, but they were the best ones that could have been made based on the circumstances in which they’d found themselves. And now, for better or worse, she had to find a way to live with them, because if she didn’t, she’d be dooming herself to a life of misery and regret.
The only thing that made her feel better was her faith in Glinda. She knew, without any doubt or hesitation, that giving her the Grimmerie had been the right decision. She’d believed what she’d told the blonde that day back in their dorm room, when Galinda had so desperately tried levitating the coin. Magic had never shown itself in her before because she hadn’t needed it.
It had finally shown itself back at Kiamo Ko because she’d needed Elphaba, just as Elphaba needed her. But to think about it was to drive the invisible knife permanently wedged in her heart even harder, stabbing her all over again. Giving the ancient spellbook to Glinda back at Kiamo Ko had been the right decision. Just like standing here, right now, in the middle of nowhere was.
And that’s when she felt it.
A soothing warmth suddenly flowed into her as she gazed back toward Oz and the woman she was leaving behind forever. She sensed something…well, maybe sensed was the wrong word, but she was definitely overcome with a raw feeling of comfort; that everything was going to be okay.
She didn’t know how, but she suddenly knew that the Grimmerie had opened for her. Just as she’d always secretly known it would. That belief had reignited the moment she’d seen Glinda conjure up those butterflies. Because Glinda was special. Her magic was special. And now Glinda would soon come to realize just how special she truly was.
Elphaba wished she could be there with her when she grew in her power and came into her own. But…she also wouldn’t have to. Because she trusted Glinda, more than she’d ever trusted anyone. More than she even trusted herself. Oz would be okay. Glinda would be okay.
And Elphaba would be okay just knowing that.
She continued telling herself that as Fiyero led her further away from everything they’d ever known and toward an uncertain future. It didn’t feel right, but she supposed that, with time, it eventually would.
She had faith in Glinda. Now she just had to have faith in herself.
Unbeknownst to either of them, somewhere a butterfly’s wings began to flap as they continued their long journey out of Oz.