Chapter Text
Four Years Ago
Glinda was sick. Again. She rested her head against the porcelain toilet and sighed, waiting for the roiling in her stomach to subside.
Fiyero rapped on the bathroom door, his touch soft but insistent. “Glinda? Can I please come in?”
“No,” she managed to croak out. “I look hideodeous.”
“I’m sure you don’t. You’re Glinda Upland. You could fall into a mud pit and come out looking gorgeous.” She smiled in spite of herself—just before another wave of nausea sent her bending over the toilet again. Fiyero jiggled the doorknob. “Glinda, please.”
“What, are you going to hold back my hair?”
“If you’d let me? Yes, I would.”
Glinda rolled her eyes. Being sick was bad enough. Being sick in front of Fiyero would be even worse. “I’m fine, Yero. I have a perfectly serviceable hair clip.” Said hair clip was giving her a headache, but at least it was holding back her hair.
He sighed, the door squeaking as he leaned against it. “Will you please talk to Madame Morrible?”
She rolled her eyes again. This wasn't the first time or third or even eighth time they’d had this conversation. She wondered when he was going to realize that she wasn’t going to change her mind. “There’s no need.”
“You’ve been sick for nearly two weeks, Glinda.”
“It’s just a nasty stomach bug.” The winter colds were making the rounds. Almost half of her staff had been off sick at some point in the last month. Poor ShenShen still hadn’t shaken her cough.
“I’d feel more comfortable if I knew that a doctor agreed with you.”
“Madame Morrible already hates me,” Glinda snapped. She simply didn’t have the energy for arguments that went in circles. “I can’t cancel today’s engagements.” Or any engagements, really. The sorceress already thought she was a lost cause. She didn’t say anything to Glinda during their lessons but Glinda noticed how her lips pinched and her brows furrowed a little more with every spell that Glinda mispronounced and every interminably long second that passed while they waited for something, anything, to happen.
“If you’re sick you won’t have a choice,” Fiyero replied.
“It will pass. It always does,” Glinda said, with more confidence than she felt. The nausea always seemed to go away as suddenly as if it had never been there at all and Glinda would dare to think she was cured, until it came back the next day—sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes right before she went to sleep. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to its sudden appearances and disappearances.
Fiyero sighed. “I wish you would stop being so stubborn.”
“You love that I’m stubborn.” She heard him chuckle, almost in spite of himself, and she felt a little thrill of happiness. Even though she and Fiyero hadn’t really been a couple in months, ever since the morning they saw Elphaba off at the train station, they had managed to stay close—bound by their shared worry for Elphie. And if perhaps Fiyero didn’t enjoy the whirl of social engagements as much as she did, he was too kind to say so. He accompanied her without complaint, the handsome prince on her arm that the rest of Oz adored.
Glinda heard the hard sound of heels striking marble flooring just before she heard Madame Morrible’s sharp voice. “What is the meaning of this?”
She heard Fiyero position himself between the sorceress and the bathroom door. “She’s sick, Madame.”
“Again?” Fiyero didn’t say anything. “Stand aside, Mr. Tigelaar. Move!” she snapped when Fiyero didn’t move, or perhaps didn’t move fast enough. The bathroom lock jiggled. “Miss Glinda, open this door immediately!”
So Glinda had no choice but to comply. She knew she presented a bedraggled picture—her hair unbrushed, her skin pale, dressed in nothing more than her slip—but there was no time to make herself presentable. She felt Madame Morrible’s eyes rake over her, heard her disappointed sigh. “Again, Miss Glinda?”
“It’s hardly her fault!” Fiyero cried.
“You’re dismissed, Mr. Tigelaar,” Madame Morrible said through gritted teeth. Fiyero didn’t move. She shut the door on him and examined Glinda more carefully. “How long have you had the nausea?”
Glinda kept her eyes fixed on the green and white tiles of her bathroom floor. She felt a flush creep over her cheeks. “It comes and goes. I’m sure that I’ll be right as rain by the time we need to leave for—”
“That isn’t what I asked, Miss Glinda.”
Glinda bit her lip until she tasted blood. “About two weeks. But I’m quite sure it’s nothing—”
“Stand up.” Glinda did. “Have you had any other symptoms?”
“Just the usual thing. Fatigue, aches and pains—”
“Where, exactly, have you been feeling pain?” The sorceress’s voice was just a touch softer than normal.
Glinda twisted her hands together, still unable to meet her eyes. “I daren’t say, Madame.” She hadn’t told even Fiyero about the tenderness that had begun to develop in her breasts. She’d begun to think she was allergic to some of the fabric in her dresses. But the thought of confessing something like that to Madame Morrible, to admitting to any imperfection, made a current of shame rush through her. Proper ladies simply didn’t do that kind of thing.
Madame Morrible hesitated, just for a moment. “And when was the last time you bled?”
Glinda tried to think back. It had been weeks, maybe even a month or two…certainly not since Elphaba had left. But her periods had always been irregular things, and she’d chalked the missing menses up to the stress of adjustment to her new life as a Public Figure. “A while,” she finally said.
Madame Morrible sighed. “When were you last…intimate with the Prince?”
For a moment Glinda couldn’t understand what she was implying (wasn’t she intimate with Fiyero every day, where they wondered where Elphaba might be and if she was managing to stay safe?)—and then she laughed. “I’ve never been intimate with him.”
The sorceress raised an eyebrow. “Have you been intimate with anyone at all, here at the palace?”
“No, of course not.” Did Madame Morrible really think her parents hadn’t raised her to the highest standards of proper decorum? She certainly wasn’t going to just sleep with the first person who threw themselves at her.
Except…
She gasped, stumbling backwards until she felt the hard edge of the counter dig into her lower back. Madame Morrible grabbed her arms, holding her steady. Her dark eyes danced. “What is it, Miss Glinda?” she asked, her voice low and urgent.
“It’s…nothing, really. It’s impossible—”
“Tell me.” Madame Morrible’s voice brooked no room for argument and Glinda had no choice but to obey her.
“It’s just that…I slept with Elphaba on the train, on the way to the Emerald City.” The words sounded ridiculous even as she said them. There was no possible way that Elphaba could have gotten her pregnant. The very idea was ludicrous. Her strange symptoms could be explained away by a million different things. They certainly didn’t mean that she was…
Madame Morrible was quiet for a long moment. Then she squeezed one of Glinda’s hands, wrapping her other arm around her waist and guiding her back to her bed. She pulled the blankets up over her and fluffed the pillows behind her, every movement strangely maternal. It made Glinda miss her own mother, with her soothing voice and her soft touches: squeezing Glinda’s shoulder, perhaps kissing her cheek. She hadn’t seen Momsie and Popsicle since she came to stay in the Emerald City; there simply hadn’t been a break in her schedule long enough to allow a visit. “Don’t worry about this afternoon’s engagements, dearie. Just rest. I’ll get the doctor.”
“I don’t need to see a doctor,” Glinda tried to say, but Madame Morrible clearly wasn’t listening to her.
“Rest, dearie,” she said again. “Everything is going to be all right.”
And Glinda didn’t have a reason to disbelieve her. But in the back of her mind, she had the impression of a door swinging shut—as if she had realized even then, when she didn’t understand what was happening to her, that everything about her life was going to change.
Present Day
Elphaba slept more deeply than she’d meant to. As much as she hated being in the Emerald Palace, as much as she hated the circumstances that had led her there, she couldn’t deny that it felt good to sleep on a soft bed, with blankets piled up around her to keep her warm. She had spent almost a year on the run, hardly sleeping on mattresses at all. She’d managed to find a mattress for her treehouse eventually, but it was old and worn and sometimes springs poked through holes in the fabric in the middle of the night. But sleeping on this bed at the Emerald Palace felt like sleeping on a cloud.
She sat up as someone began to knock on the door, softly but insistently. “Elphaba?” the Wizard asked, his too-chipper voice floating through the keyhole. “Are you up?”
“Yes,” Elphaba forced herself to say. She remembered what Madame Morrible had said: I trust you’ll be on your best behavior. And Glinda had told her that Morrible had at the very least threatened to take Eugenie away from her, and had perhaps actually done so in the past. As much as she wanted to rip both of their captors limb from limb, she had to play by their rules for now.
“We’re having breakfast in thirty minutes. We take our meals together, whenever possible. It helps foster camaraderie.” And it would also make it impossible for Elphaba, Fiyero, and Glinda to converse unobserved. Elphaba bit her lip until she tasted blood. “We’ll also discuss the plan for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Your rehabilitation party, of course.” She could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Where you’ll tell Oz you’ve seen the error of your ways and they have nothing to fear from you.”
“They’ve never had anything to fear from me.”
“But they don’t know that, do they?”
Elphaba clenched her hands into fists, smothering the magic that flared up.
The Wizard sighed. “Look, I know the adjustment process is going to be hard for you. So let’s make a deal. You go to the party tonight, smile at the right people and say all the right things…and tomorrow you can spend all afternoon with Glinda and Eugenie.”
“I want to see them today.”
“You have to put on the show first. We have a lot riding on you, Elphaba. We need to know that we can trust you.”
Elphaba wanted to ask him what more he wanted from her, when he’d already taken everything he could possibly take. “I want to see them today too.”
The Wizard was quiet for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Elphaba.” She could almost picture him running his hands through his hair, putting on that bemused and slightly baffled persona that had fooled all the Ozians—that had fooled her. But she knew better now; the Wizard was anything but bemused. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, and he didn’t care so long as it suited his plans. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt. Family is family, after all. You can have thirty minutes with them after breakfast, but no more.”
“Thank you, your Ozness,” Elphaba said, because she knew it was expected of her. She was glad the door was closed so he wouldn’t be able to see her trembling with rage.
“I’ll see you at breakfast, Elphaba.” She heard his shoes move off down the hallway, his whistling growing fainter and fainter.
Elphaba explored her prison in a way that she hadn’t been able to the night before. The bathroom was well stocked with toiletries—all of the same fancy shampoos that she had once teased Glinda for using. There was another door that was locked; presumably it led to a sitting room that Elphaba couldn’t access because she couldn’t be trusted yet. The wardrobe was full of dresses in a wide variety of colors (except green and yellow) that were exactly her size—the size she’d been when she first came to the Emerald Palace, at least, before years on the run had made her lean and sinewy. A shiver crawled down her spine. They’d been planning this, perhaps from the moment Madame Morrible had met her at Shiz. They had always intended for her to be trapped, more or less willingly, in this room.
But Elphaba was sure that it was her fault that Glinda was imprisoned here too. If she had never brought her with her to the Emerald City that day, the Wizard and Morrible would never have spared her a second glance. She would be safe. Their beautiful, impossible daughter would be safe too. Elphaba felt sick.
She was ready when Madame Morrible came to pick her up, wearing one of the only black dresses in the wardrobe. Madame Morrible clucked her tongue. “All of your clothes will need to be taken in,” she said, as if Elphaba had skipped meals on purpose to waste her time. “I’ll send the seamstresses over today to ensure that your measurements are correct for the party.” Elphaba didn’t say anything. Luckily, the sorceress didn’t seem to be waiting for a response.
The breakfast room was down the hallway, a pretty room with a sky blue ceiling and painted clouds scudding across. The table was set for seven; an unfamiliar woman about Elphaba’s age sat on one side of Eugenie, while Glinda sat on the other. The woman had long dark hair braided down her back and she looked studiously down at her plate, not stealing so much as a glance at Elphaba. The Wizard sat at the head of the table and Madame Morrible sat across from him; Elphaba took the only open seat next to Fiyero.
“How good of you to join us, Elphaba,” the Wizard said, sounding genuinely pleased to see her. A plate of breakfast food was placed in front of her by a silent servant who was perhaps a little younger than she was.. “Feel free to eat up. It isn’t poisoned.” He chuckled. Elphaba didn’t.
Eugenie smiled at her. “Hi Mama,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Elphaba had to struggle to hide just how much that single word affected her. She’d always thought that she had no business being a mother, since she’d never really had a mother of her own. But this child was undoubtedly, undeniably, hers and Elphaba was astounded by how deeply she already loved her.
“Good morning, Eugenie,” Elphaba said.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Eugenie said, turning back to her porridge. “You can call me Geni. Everyone does.”
“Geni then. If that’s what you’d prefer.” They shared a small, almost conspiratorial, smile. Oz, her daughter’s dimples looked just like Glinda’s.
Eugenie was her daughter. And Elphaba had already missed so much of her life.
Glinda cleared her throat, shifting in her chair slightly to look at Madame Morrible. “I want to see my mother today.”
“We can discuss it after your engagements are finished,” Madame Morrible replied. Elphaba saw the tension coil in Glinda’s shoulders, her knuckles whitening around the knife that she was using to spread butter across her toast like she wanted to launch it at their former professor’s forehead.
The rest of breakfast passed mostly in silence, apart from Eugenie’s chatter about what she was learning in her lessons. Elphaba gathered that the woman she didn’t know was the Miss Sarima she’d heard about the night before, and that she seemed to be Eugenie’s governess. Even though Elphaba didn’t know anything about Sarima and certainly didn’t know if she could trust her, she was at least glad that Morrible hadn’t taken Eugenie’s education on herself.
Once they were finished, Fiyero stood. He glanced at Elphaba once and then turned back to the Wizard and bowed sharply. “I should join the soldiers,” he said.
“Make sure you’re back in plenty of time to get ready for the festivities,” Madame Morrible said, not looking up from her newspaper. “You’ll be expected to attend.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” Fiyero said, his tone distinctly chilly.
As soon as he left, Madame Morrible turned to Elphaba. Her lips were pursed. “Thirty minutes,” she said. “No more, no less. Miss Sarima will make sure that Miss Eugenie is presentable and then bring her back.”
Sarima and Glinda exchanged a look that Elphaba couldn’t interpret. “Come along, Geni,” Sarima said, reaching out her hand for Eugenie. “Let’s pick out your dress for today.”
“But I want to stay with Mama,” Eugenie said, glancing back at Elphaba curiously.
“Of course, but don’t you want to show her your pretty dresses too?” Eugenie considered this for a moment and then nodded, slipping her hand into Sarima’s and practically skipping down the hallway, promising to be back as soon as she could. Morrible and the Wizard left next, shutting the door behind them. Elphaba heard a key click in the lock.
Glinda held herself rigid until their footsteps had faded into silence and then she stood and practically threw her arms around Elphaba. For a moment, all Elphaba could do was hold onto her. Glinda hugged her every time they met, of course, but she’d never hugged her with this much desperation before. She almost collapsed into her arms, her forehead coming to rest against Elphaba’s. A shiver ran down Elphaba’s spine as she thought about just how much Glinda had had to endure, entirely alone. “Glinda—”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Elphaba Thropp,” Glinda murmured. Elphaba could feel her heart beating through her light pink dress, fast and hard. “If anything, I’m the one that should be apologizing to you for keeping it secret for all of these years—”
“Glinda, there’s no doubt in my mind that you were doing everything you could to protect our daughter.” Elphaba rested her hand on her cheek, her fingertips brushing along the side of Glinda’s face. Glinda’s skin was as soft as she remembered it, but her dark eyes were shadowed with something that was unbearably close to fear. “I’m so sorry you had to do it all alone.”
“But I wasn’t alone,” Glinda said. “I have Fiyero and Sarima. They’ve been ever so helpful, Elphie. And Geni simply adores them.”
Elphaba laced their fingers together and rested their intertwined hands on top of her heart. “She’s wonderful, Glinda.”
Glinda beamed and for a moment Elphaba caught a glimpse of the girl she’d said goodbye to on the Western Tower, the one who hadn’t had to grow up too fast. “She is, isn’t she? She has the best parts of both of us. That’s why I named her Eugenie, actually. It’s an old name, meaning well born. I thought that if the Wizard and Morrible tried to hide her from the rest of the world, then I could at least make sure she would remember where she came from.” She squeezed Elphaba’s hand.
“Oh, my sweet.” Elphaba tilted her head just slightly so she could kiss her. Glinda’s lips tasted like the butter she’d spread across her toast, and they were as soft as Elphaba remembered during the long nights she’d spent alone in her treehouse. “It’s a beautiful name, Glinda.” But how did it happen? It should be impossible.”
“Madame Morrible says that there are other stories of…magical pregnancies occurring between two women, back when magic was much more common in Oz. But she says there hasn’t been a verifiable case in at least a century, maybe even two. Your magic combined with the force of our love and created her, Elphie. As you can imagine, it was a little bit of a shock when I found out.” Her hand flickered to her abdomen, almost unconsciously.
Elphaba’s heart twisted at the thought of Glinda coming to that realization on her own, surrounded by their enemies. “Did they hurt you, my sweet?” If they had, if they had laid a finger on Glinda or on Eugenie, Elphaba didn’t think she’d be able to hold herself back from paying them back in kind, best laid plans be damned.
Glinda must have realized this because her eyes flickered towards her warningly. “I’m fine, Elphaba. They’ve treated me well. They treat Eugenie even better.”
“Besides not letting you leave.”
Glinda shrugged, as if that was immaterial. “Elphaba, you have to promise me you’ll follow the rules. No heroics.”
“And what makes you think I’d do anything heroic, my sweet?” But the joke fell flat. Glinda didn’t smile.
“Elphaba, if they think we’re working against them they’ll take Geni away,” Glinda said, calmly but firmly. “I don’t know what they’ll do to her. I don’t think they’ll mistreat her—she’s too important as a bargaining chip. But I can’t risk it.” Elphaba hated how she could speak so calmly about the possible endangerment of their child, as if it was an unavoidable possibility that she’d simply had to live with until it no longer frightened her as much as it once had.
“I understand,” Elphaba said.
“No, I don’t think you do.” Glinda took her hand and pulled her a step closer, until their foreheads were practically touching. “Fiyero and I tried to run when Geni was about a year old. We were discovered, and Madame Morrible took her away. I didn’t see her for nearly a month. It was horrendible, Elphaba. I can’t go through that again. Everything I do has to be about keeping her safe. Everything.”
“I know,” Elphaba replied, her heart splintering at the sadness in Glinda’s eyes. No wonder she looked like she had already given up, especially when Eugenie wasn’t even the only piece of leverage the Wizard and Morrible had on her. “Glinda, what happened to your mother?”
Glinda’s jaw clenched, almost unconsciously. “She got…very sick, shortly after you left. None of the doctors in Frottica knew how to help her, so the Wizard invited her to come here. The doctors still don’t know what’s wrong with her, but Madame Morrible at least seems to be able to help her.”
Unless Madame Morrible was the one causing the illness in the first place, Elphaba thought. “Are you sure that—”
Glinda gave the smallest, most imperceptible shake of her head. Not here. “Momsie will die without treatment. And if I act out, they’ll take her treatment away. The last time I did that, she nearly died.”
“I understand,” Elphaba said again. She lowered her voice until she could whisper directly into Glinda’s ear. Glinda shivered when she felt Elphaba’s breath on the side of her neck.“But I think you know as well as I do that we can’t stay here. All I need you to do right now is trust me. Can you do that?” It was a genuine question. She wouldn’t blame Glinda if she couldn’t, not after Elphaba had somehow managed to miss such a monumental change in both of their lives. Why had she not known that Glinda was in trouble, or at the very least been able to tell she was hiding something from her? Elphaba had once thought that she knew Glinda better than anyone else in the world.
But Glinda nodded, and Elphaba pushed her own guilt down as far as she could. She could deal with it later. Right now she had to make the most of her time with Glinda—the little of it that they had. “Can Sarima be trusted?”
Glinda nodded again. “Yes. Sarima was my midwife. She helped bring Eugenie into the world and offered to stay on as her nurse. I suspected that I…might not have as much access to Geni as I would like, so I wanted to make sure that she would be around someone I trusted. Sarima has had every opportunity to betray us and she hasn’t. I trust her. But…” She rested their hands against her heart.“If we go, we need to take her with us. The Wizard and Morrible will kill her if they know that she helped us.”
Elphaba nodded. Yet another person who needed to be protected, yet another person roped into the Wizard and Morrible’s tangled web because of her. “When we leave, we’ll all leave together. No one is getting left behind.” Never mind that she had no idea how they were going to do that, while ensuring Larena didn’t die either. But there was no other choice. They couldn’t stay here, just puppets for the Wizard and Morrible to manipulate by threatening to take Eugenie away from them at any time. “I just need you to trust me.”
“Of course I trust you, Elphie,” Glinda replied, squeezing her hand. The trust in her voice made Elphaba’s heart ache. How could any of them trust her after everything that had happened, after she hadn’t been able to protect them?
Just then, the door burst open and Eugenie came flying inside, throwing herself against Glinda’s legs. “Momsie!” Then she turned to Elphaba and threw herself against her legs. “Mama!” She held up her hands.
Elphaba scooped her into her arms, her movements only a little stiff. She hadn’t held a baby since Nessa was young but she remembered enough to cradle Eugenie against her chest. The little girl tucked her head under her chin, her curls tickling Elphaba’s nose. She could feel Eugenie’s heart beating through her back; quick, like a rabbit. She was heavier than Elphaba had thought she would be, for such a little thing, but Elphaba thought she could have held her forever, breathing in the baby soft scent of her hair and skin.
“You told her about me?” she asked Glinda, who was staring at the two of them with tears in her eyes like she’d never imagined a moment like this could be possible.
“Of course I did,” Glinda said, like she thought Elphaba was ridiculous for asking. “She knows that her mama is the most powerful sorceress in Oz. Don’t you, Geni?” Eugenie nodded enthusiastically. Glinda stroked a hand almost absently through Eugenie’s curls.
“Mama, is it true that you fly around on a broom?” Eugenie asked, tilting her head up towards her.
“She does,” Glinda said. “I’ve seen it.”
“Can you teach me?”
Elphaba laughed. “Maybe when you’re a little bit older. But for now…maybe I can take you riding with me?” She didn’t add if the Wizard and Madame Morrible let me, which she was quite sure they wouldn’t.
Eugenie nodded excitedly, her curls flopping in front of her eyes. “I always knew you would come back,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mama.”
Elphaba squeezed her tightly, turning her head slightly so Eugenie wouldn’t see the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you too, baby.”
Glinda cleared her throat. “Geni, why don’t you show her your magic?”
Eugenie looked between them, her eyes suddenly sharp. “But Momsie, you said—”
“Never do the magic in front of anyone else. I know. But…Mama is special. You can do the magic around her too.”
Eugenie wriggled until Elphaba put her down. She raised a hand and furrowed her brow, concentrating hard—and then a row of bubbles popped free of her hands. She giggled as the bubbles drifted over their heads, popping one by one on the edges of the golden chandelier.
Elphaba turned to Glinda with a question in her eyes. “That isn’t the only thing she can do,” Glinda said, as Eugenie created another row of bubbles and ran between them, giggling as she popped them with a finger. “When she’s upset, she can break windows just like you can. And she can create light. Her whole body just lights up, Elphie.”
Elphaba wasn’t sure whether she was proud that her powers, which she had struggled with for so long, could actually create something so beautiful—or if she was just worried that eventually Eugenie would suffer for having them. “And the Wizard and Morrible don’t know?”
Glinda shook her head. “They’ve come close to finding out a few times, but we’ve managed to hide it. For now.” Clearly she didn’t think they would be able to hide it forever. “Geni, maybe your mama can help you with your powers. Would you like that?” Eugenie nodded so hard that she tossed her curls.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Elphaba said. “As long as everything goes well tonight, I’ll be able to spend all afternoon with you.”
Glinda’s face fell. No doubt she understood how the thought of playing nice for the Wizard and Morrible made Elphaba’s stomach turn and her blood boil. But she’d laid the stakes out clearly: Elphaba had no choice but to obey, at least for now until they could gather more information. “Elphie, I’m so sorry—”
Elphaba squeezed her hand and lowered her voice. Luckily Eugenie had gone back to making her bubbles and wasn’t paying attention to them—for the moment, at least. “I’m going to get us out,” she whispered. “All of us. But I’m going to need your help.”
“Elphie,” Glinda murmured, but Elphaba pressed a finger to her lips. They were just as soft as she remembered them.
“I know what’s at stake. I know we need to be very, very careful. But we can’t stay here, can we?” Glinda’s eyes lingered on hers, like she wasn’t sure if Elphaba’s words were a trap. Slowly, she shook her head. “We’re going to bring the Wizard’s regime down, from the inside. And we’re going to use your popularity to do it. The only way to stop him and Madame Morrible is to beat them at their own game.”
Recognition flickered in Glinda’s eyes. “We need to make you irresistible,” she murmured.
“Precisely. I know that’s a lot to ask, since my face is literally on Wanted posters—”
“I always love a good challenge, Elphie.” Glinda replied. Something new sparked in her eyes, something Elphaba hadn’t seen there since the day they’d arrived in the Emerald City, when they thought they could see their futures unfolding in front of them, when they thought they would always have each other and there was no way the world could tear them apart.
Glinda’s eyes were filled with hope.
Getting ready for the gala was a nightmare, as Elphaba had expected it would be. Madame Morrible and a team of stylists descended on Elphaba’s room minutes after she had to say goodbye to Glinda and Eugenie, with boxes of makeup and perfumes and racks and racks of dresses in every color of the rainbow—except green, of course. Elphaba spent the rest of the day trying on dress after dress, while Madame Morrible scrutinized her carefully and snapped at the stylists gathered behind her like an frightened flock of birds. She seemed to have opinions on everything: the cut of the dress, the height of the heels, even the scent of the perfume. She never asked for Elphaba’s input, but Elphaba hadn’t really expected her to. Elphaba had to bathe twice, her braids were redone, her cuticles were buffed and her fingernails trimmed. Even the hair on her legs was ripped away. By the time she found herself standing in front of the gold trimmed mirror in her bedroom, wearing a long golden dress with green accents woven into the skirt, she hardly recognized herself. The dress wasn’t like the frilly ballgowns that Glinda wore in all of her publicity photos that made her look like a storybook princess. It was less embellished, more mature. If Elphaba hadn’t known better, she almost would have called herself beautiful.
Madame Morrible scrutinized her one last time, her lips pressed together. “You look presentable,” she finally said. “I do hope you will behave tonight, Miss Elphaba. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of what happens if you…deviate from our planned course.” Eugenie would be separated from Glinda. Larena Upland might not get the medicine that would keep her alive.
“I know.” Elphaba kept her gaze fixed on her reflection. The girl in the mirror looked strong—strong enough to stand up to the Wizard and Morrible, strong enough to protect her family. “I’ll behave.”
“I’m sure you will, dearie,” Madame Morrible said flatly. “Come. You’ll be making your entrance with the Wizard.”
She was led to the top of a glittering green and gold stairwell. Below, Elphaba could hear the sounds of the gala: glasses clinking together, murmuring voices, heavily embroidered skirts rustling. The Wizard was waiting for her, dressed all in green, except for the gold pocket watch around his neck. “Elphaba.” He held out an arm to her. “Are you ready?”
Elphaba gently took his arm. It didn’t feel as steady as she thought it would and for just a moment she thought about twisting it and pushing him down the stairs. Let everyone in that ballroom, all the most important people in the Emerald City and across Oz, see that their Wizard wasn’t so infallible after all.
But then she thought about Glinda, no doubt waiting for her in the ballroom. She thought about Eugenie, somewhere else in the palace. Perhaps Sarima was reading her a bedtime story. Maybe she had peeked out the nursery window and watched the guests arrive on the palace steps, marveling over their beautiful dresses. Maybe a love of fine clothing was something else she had picked up from Glinda.
Elphaba slipped her arm through the Wizard’s. She expected him to lead her downstairs, but instead he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out something gold and green. “I got this for you.” He handed the object to Madame Morrible. It glittered in the bright light and Elphaba realized that it was a large golden necklace, studded with diamonds and emeralds. Madame Morrible fastened it around her neck and Elphaba gasped at the sudden weight of it, the cold of it against her skin.
It felt like a collar.
“We have to reassure people that you can be trusted,” the Wizard said, his grip on her hand tightening just for a moment. “We have to show them that you’re being…properly controlled. You understand, of course.”
Elphaba had to squeeze her eyes shut so she didn’t push him down the stairs.
As they descended the staircase one step at a time Elphaba heard the murmur of voices grow louder—until they stood on the threshold of the ballroom and the whispers stopped altogether. Elphaba felt every pair of eyes in the room turn to look at her. She surveyed the green and gold ballroom, with its tall windows that looked out on the Emerald City and its glittering crystal chandeliers. She looked at the dignitaries in their sharp suits, the women in their pastel dresses that made them look like they’d been plucked from a garden full of flowers. She saw the table full of food at one end of the room, each pastry intricately crafted, each stamped with a golden OZ. A fountain of something bubbly flowed at the other side of the room. She scanned the crowd, searching for Glinda. Eventually she found her standing near the windows wearing a purple and blue ballgown, standing in between Fiyero in his green and gold Gale Force uniform and two people with blonde hair that Elphaba assumed were Glinda’s parents. Her skin was very, very pale.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Oz,” the Wizard said slowly, as if he was savoring the feeling of each word in his mouth. “The time of tribulation is over! You see, the Wicked Witch of the West has seen the error of her ways. She surrendered herself to me last night.” There were gasps, shrieks, a rustle of murmurs behind raised glasses. “I know what you’re all expecting—a show trial, a public execution. But I can be merciful and I firmly believe that all Ozians should have the chance to redeem themselves, if they so choose. We’ve all seen what Miss Elphaba’s powers can do, when turned to evil. Imagine what they could do for Oz if they were turned to good.” Elphaba had to clench her jaw to keep herself from saying something she’d regret. “So I have invited her to live in the Palace, under my supervision, to act as my apprentice.” Madame Morrible came to stand on Elphaba’s other side, her lips pressed together in not-quite disapproval.
For a moment there was absolute and complete silence. Then there were more whispers. One of the dignitaries, wearing the purple and red of Munchkinland, raised his hand. “Pardon me, your Ozness, but is it possible the Witch may have…ensorcelled you?”
For just a moment there was a shocked silence. As far as Elphaba knew, no one had dared imply that it was even possible to trick the Wizard of Oz.
But before the Wizard or Madame Morrible or even Elphaba could say anything, Glinda’s laughter rang out across the room. She took a step forward, the crowd giving way around her like the outgoing tide. “The Wicked Witch must be very powerful indeed if she could trick our wonderful Wizard.” More laughter followed. Surely if Glinda the Good could laugh, they must have thought, there was nothing to be frightened of.
Glinda walked towards them, resting her hand lightly on Elphaba’s wrist. “Citizens of Oz,” she said, after shooting a quick look at Madame Morrible. “I understand how frightening this must be and how…disorientifying. But let me assure you, I have had the opportunity to survey Miss Elphaba in close quarters.” Elphaba nearly snorted at that. The very closest of quarters, she could have added. “And I can assure you that, even after all she has done, there is still the potential for goodness within her. You all know how wonderful goodness feels, don’t you?” Nods spread throughout the crowd—all of these people who openly flaunted their mistresses or raised rents that the poor could already ill afford or denounced their Animal neighbors to the Gale Force and didn’t bat so much as an eyelash as they were carted off to Animal caging facilities. Elphaba’s lip curled. How could they know what goodness felt like? “How could you deny the healing power of Goodness to one of your fellow Ozians? I assure you that I will watch Miss Elphaba carefully. I will ensure that you stay safe. But I can also assure you that your fears are unfounded. Miss Elphaba has seen the light of Goodness. She will never trouble us again.” Elphaba gave them her best smile. No one smiled back at her, but she felt their hostility lessen. Glinda’s fingertips squeezed her wrist, just for a moment—the only sign that Glinda dared to give to let her know that she was still here, that they would get through this together
“Excellent,” the Wizard said, finally releasing Elphaba to go and mingle with the other guests. “Now that that’s all over with, go enjoy the party. All of you.”
Elphaba looked around the room, filled with the great and good of Oz, and she felt her smile sharpen. These were the people she needed to win to her cause, the people that could help her take down the Wizard when the time came. It wouldn’t be an easy task, but then she had never been deterred by a challenge.
If the Wizard and Morrible wanted a show, then Elphaba would make sure they got one.