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January 1032.
"Elphie! That's not fair!"
Galinda shrieks as a small ball of snow lands squarely on her nose. She tries to blink the snow out of her eyes to the sight of a very green and cozy Elphaba rolling up another snowball, grinning in mischief. "Oh yeah? What about this?" Another one hits her shoulder. She cannot lose like that - between them, she is the one growing up with actual winter. Galinda immediately scoops up a handful and hurls it in Elphaba's direction. "Galinda! You are acting like a very ungracious host right now!"
The courtyard of the Upland Estate is pristinely white and covered in girlish giggles. There is Galinda in pink stockings and miniskirt, pink coat and scarf, and there is Elphaba wrapped snugly in endless layers of jackets and sweaters. They chase each other in the snow. They laugh. They build a snowman. Elphaba pokes the tip of Galinda's very pink nose, "And there I thought you couldn't get any pinker."
As the sun begins to sink at the horizon, they retreat to the kitchen and make sticky date pudding.
At night, they curl up in thick, pink, weighted blanket in Galinda's childhood bedroom. "Let's tell each other a secret, Elphie. You go first, since you're the guest."
Elphaba is wearing that pensive face again, as if Galinda has just asked her a philosophical question and not a random fun fact about herself. She looks for green hand under the sheets, tangles slim fingers up in hers. "Hello, Oz to Elphie."
Her lips curl up at the sight. "I'm going to make you my new project, Galinda. Project Patience." Pale hand swats her where it has been hovering on her waist. "My secret is, I like being at your house better than at mine. Thank you for inviting me for this winter break. I really enjoy it."
Galinda smiles, she knows exactly why. She fixes the glass frame that sits crookedly on Elphie's nose bridge. "Thank you for telling me. That was a very good one."
Now Galinda is thinking. Elphaba raises an eyebrow, she is very good at it, good enough to make up for the awkwardly stiff toss-toss attempts in Galinda’s opinion. "My secret, Elphie. I love you. I really do." Doe eyes stare at deep emerald ones in anticipation. She blinks and squeezes her hand a little tighter.
Elphaba looks so clueless she is positively sure whatever nuances she sought to deliver were already lost on this string bean. "We are best friends, Galinda. Of course I love you!"
Galinda Upland is happy enough.
February 1032.
"Galinda, look at what I have!"
They are back in Shiz, it's late at night. Elphaba opens the door hastily and rushes to pink bed. She's still in her uniform, sling bag across her shoulder, clearly just back from a mission of academic pursuits. In her hand, a pink bottle, glowing under the lamp light.
"Elphie, what is that? Is it for me? Can I have it?" No doubt she can. They both know Elphaba is physically incapable of saying no to Galinda. She hands her the small bottle, watches her open the cap. "I finally succeeded. I was at the Potion Lab all evening, trying to make this-" "Elphie, it's delicious!" "What?"
It is what you think it is. Galinda chugged the whole thing the moment her roommate got distracted. "Anyways, what were you saying? What is this? The potion what?"
"Galinda, that was the Truth Potion." She lets out a dramatic sigh in an obvious attempt to mask the laughter rising in her throat. "Why, Miss Upland? Are we playing secrets all night tonight?"
The potion must be the real deal then, Galinda feels it working in her chest. "No, not again. You rejected me last time. That was so embarrassing!"
Elphaba is determinedly confused. "When did I ever reject you, Galinda? Last time, when we were at your house?"
"Yes Elphie, that time. I told you I loved you and you proceeded to call me your best friend." Galinda gasps, realising she has just slipped, hands raised to cover her mouth. "No, that's not what I mean. I mean I love you and I want to kiss you, oh my Oz what am I saying, I'm saying you are my best friend and I love no what I-"
Galinda's rambling efforts to fight the potion land on deaf ears, I want to kiss you echoing in Elphaba's head like a record. Galinda does not have to willpower her way out of the truth serum – she realises that the moment green lips crash against her own. "You should've told me that from the start."
Needless to say, Elphaba is whipped.
March 1032.
They are at the Wizard's attic now. The hot air balloon took them nowhere, they learnt it the hard way. Glinda wishes Elphie for once would just listen to her, and Elphaba wishes Glinda for once was not so good and popular.
Deep down, they know this is the time to say goodbye. Elphaba knows Glinda does not have the option to leave. She has no magic, no physical strength to weather the trip to the outskirts of Oz, let alone surviving fugitivity. She has her parents, her friends, a bright future ahead. She cannot stand to do that to her. Glinda knows Elphaba does not have the option to stay. She has already been declared Wicked, Madame Morrible’s betrayal like a knife to her chest, her very good Elphie now the common enemy of Oz. For her own safety, she must go, even if it means leaving Glinda.
"I love you, Elphaba Thropp. Please stay safe. Go, go before they arrive."
"Hold out if you can." Fingers interlocked, not yet ready to bid farewell. "Hold out, my sweet." She presses a chaste kiss on Glinda's lips. Strawberry lip gloss and salted tears. "I love you."
The guards rush right in, bloodthirsty, vicious. They drag Glinda away. The loss in her hand creeps in as green silhouette darts across the sky.
Like a shooting star. One she can watch from afar, never for her to keep.
April 1035.
Glinda the Good. She has to be good; she has got no choice. In the day she goes from one country to another, breathtakingly gorgeous, she takes flowers from children and holds their parents' hands as she assures them of what power goodness holds. They are so terrified of the Wicked Witch, part of Glinda is relieved, that means they would leave Elphie alone, even if they catch sight of her, they would be too scared to report. She takes deep breaths and tosses perfect blond curls to cover up the way her body tenses up and shudders at the hideous posters. No, that's not her. That's not her Elphie. It’s simply not.
Some days Fiyero follows her, when he is not caught up with his duty at the Gale Force. They play the equivalent of what Barbie and Ken are to you and me, except here Barbie and Ken end up strategic partners and not boyfriend and girlfriend. Glinda knows Fiyero loves Elphaba, the way he thinks about her out loud, eyes longing, the way he spends hours wandering the borders to look for her under the name of security and vigilance. She doesn't tell him they were in love. She keeps that part to herself, something exclusively Galinda Upland’s. Still, Glinda is jealous. Sometimes, she lashes out at Fiyero, when they are tucked away from public eyes. "Can't you just leave her alone? Please? She does not wish to be found. It's far too dangerous."
Fiyero being Fiyero, he doesn't listen. They shake hands and play dolls. They play political chess, endlessly checkmated. Fiyero with no news, no sights, just orders to survey and attack and arrest. Glinda surrounded by posters of a green woman with wrung-out features and hateful precautions in their everloving grace. Only she knows she was so beautiful.
Glinda indulges in the quietness of her room, swallowed by the night. The one thing she is supposed to do, that is to be good, she is failing that too. She is sad. She is angry. She is suffocated. She doesn’t feel good. "I love you, Elphie. Isn't it so hard to believe? That I love you, yet I live here?"
She has no one to pray to. She has no God to sell.
May 1037.
Elphie stands in front of her, green as ever. She is thinner, cheekbones chiselled, hands calloused. Gosh, is this what staying in the woods does to you? They don't have much time. The Gale Force is coming. The witch-hunters, that wretched girl and her wretched friends, are marching towards Kiamo Ko. Their time is once again running out, the way it did half a decade over.
Glinda has so many questions for the woman in front of her. Can she still call her girlfriend? Best friend? Enemy? Acquaintance? Ex-roommate? Whatever, that's not the pressing question. Glinda wants to ask her, How have you been? She would love to sit down and hear it for hours, for she has been so curious. Did you struggle? Did you meet like-minded people? How did you make it work? Where did you stay? How did you lead your revolutions? She wishes Elphie would tell her everything.
Glinda cares about Elphaba, deeply she does. So she shoves the two pestering miscellaneous questions, namely Did you miss me and Why did you leave with Fiyero to a corner of her head.
Elphaba hands her the dusty old book. She tells Glinda to do good, for good. After all these years, she still sees the good in her, like she is not some hollow shell, mannequin on its way to be discarded. Like she has never begged to be good enough to fit into the beautiful dresses she wears.
Forever. For the better. For good. After all these years, Glinda waits in the dark.
Anguished cry like a bucket of cold water to her senses. "No, no, no, Elphie, I love you, come back to me, come back to me please."
After collapsing on the ground and sobbing for hours, she lets her go. I love you, so I let you go.
June 1038.
Another day of mourning the wicked. What is this obsession that Ozians have with the Wicked Witch? Is a full year of celebrating her death not enough? As always, Glinda has many questions and few resorts. She joins their dances, preaches the same lesson about how the wicked's lives are lonely and the wicked dies alone and when you're wicked you're left only on your own. Do these people realise that their Glinda the Good is lonely and she will die alone and she's left only on her own? She knows better than to pit herself against them. She takes yet another lit torch and throws it at yet another straw figure.
I love you, know that I have no other choice. I'm sorry.
July 1040.
It's a hot summer night. Elphaba is sweating all under her cloak. She swears the stars must be shifting nowadays, Mercury in Retrograde and whatnot. Because she has really been thinking about all her past decisions. She doesn't regret leaving the Emerald Palace all those years ago, she never did. Never regrets leading the movements in early days, risking danger. She doesn't regret getting dragged away by Fiyero, since the alternative would be getting crucified, she hopes Glinda did not take it the wrong way. But she admits to herself, the decision to feign her death wasn't a particularly shining one. Within the first week of reigning, Glinda had already revoked all Animal Exclusion Laws from the Wizard era. Now it's been three years. Most of her neighbours have left for urban resettlement. Life in the woods is lonely. Even when she has Fiyero, half the time it's still solitude.
He told her he was in love with her years ago. She kindly turned down his offer. A green woman and a straw man, two best friends, cohabitating in the woods.
Must be the full moon giving her the strangest of urges. She wanted to let it all out, so she confided in Fiyero. She told him that she and Glinda were together, always been, even when they had said goodbye, even when she wished Glinda had found herself a suitor who was worthy of her affection, more so than someone who had left twice. He didn't even flinch. "I've suspected."
"Glinda, she never stopped loving you. We used to quarrel a lot. I wanted to look for you, she just wanted you safe and sound."
"We stayed in the same wing of the Palace. She cried every night. I thought the building was haunted. Knowing her, she might still probably cry every night."
"Elphaba, if you want to look for her, you must. I will manage. Send me a letter, if all goes well."
So here she is, on the night sky, waning crescent. The entire city is draped in peaceful silence, lights off. Except for that one particular room in the Emerald Palace, balcony facing west.
Glinda on her bed, tosses and turns. Another sleepless night. She thought she was dreaming when she saw green and black.
"I love you, Glinda. Please let me in."
August 1042.
Elphaba has been re-integrating into Oz for the past two years. It has been successful, actually, with Glinda working all her popular charms while passing them to her and making sure she exude said charms during their public appearances. The first few months were nothing short of treacherous. Despite letters sent back and forth to Fiyero, all did not go too well. People were outraged, tried to attack her, tried to attack Glinda too, all because they were robbed of their death-celebrating privilege. Glinda had to tell them Elphaba was a rehabilitation project, a beacon of her Goodness, to prove that good can conquer even the wickedest of minds. In secret, they held meetings with educators to rewrite textbook and propaganda narratives. The Scarecrow emerged from the woods and told the people to not be afraid of the Witch. Since he was basically a war hero, people listened. She must not be terrible after all, for she was endorsed by Glinda the Good and the hero of Oz. Nowadays, people's attitudes are more relaxed, welcoming even. They clap and cheer when green and pink show up together and nod their heads when Elphaba stands on the podium to issue a speech.
On Sunday, they sit in the Palace library. In her free time, Glinda sketches. She draws the streets. She draws the palace. She draws the tables and chairs. She draws Elphie. Across her, Elphaba has her face buried in some books, hand holding up a pen, occasionally scribbling on a piece of paper. "Elphie, what's that?"
She turns her head up and straightens her posture. "Nothing much, my sweet. Just some ideas to bring up during next week's meetings. Our laws to protect labourers are rather lacking. I found some loopholes. See?"
Elphaba turns one of her books to face Glinda and realises that she has been staring. "Do I have something in my teeth?" Pale hand reaches out to play with neatly braided hair.
"No, Elphie. You have brilliance written all over your face. You have been my confidant and advisor for so long. Have you thought of a promotion?"
She scoffs. "I have everything I need, Glinda. I wouldn't dream of anything else."
Glinda sits up, locks gaze with Elphaba. You can tell she is serious. "Rule Oz with me, Elphaba Thropp. I love you and trust you with all my heart. Take some time to think about it. I'm not rescinding this offer."
Two weeks later, they begin to plan her inauguration ceremony.
September 1043.
They walk hand in hand along the cobblestone path lining Shiz’s botanical garden. Just like they used to when they were twenty. Back then, they tried to keep it a secret, hands dropped at the sound of distant footsteps. Keep themselves away from prying gazes. Now it's different. They lock hands as they walk, Glinda's other hand clings onto Elphaba's bicep, blond head on strong shoulder. No longer anxiously reading between the lines in hope of approval, Glinda now has an air of authority around her, honed after years of efficacious ruling. Elphaba next to her, warm as she nods at passersby, unlike the girl who used to brood and rush from classroom to classroom, pretending she had been blind to judgements. They sit down at a bench on the edge of the garden, a quiet corner only they know.
"We met in September, didn't we? Twelve years ago, that fated day."
"Yes Elphie. I still remember. You caused a whole commotion. Great first impression, actually. I thought you were very hot, I mean, powerful." Elphaba laughs as Glinda corrects herself.
"I have something for you inside my bag. An anniversary gift, for the day we first met." She winks mischievously. You must understand this is very special, as Elphaba was never big on these celebrations. Glinda's eyes light up as she practically leaps towards her leather flap bag. Inside, a pink, square box sits sweetly in the middle of endless pens, notepads, and a half-finished novel, dog-eared. Glinda gulps thickly, fingers already reaching to touch the velvety edges. "Elphie, what is this?"
Elphaba beats her to it, takes the box out herself and pops it open. To Glinda's already watery eyes, a pink diamond wrapped in gold band shining in late afternoon sun. She brings a hand up to stifle a cry as her mean green girlfriend-turn-fiancée-in-the-next-minute gets on one knee and looks up with earnest eyes. So vast, so green. Glinda is lost and she refuses to ever find her way out.
"I have loved you ever since we were kids. I forever will. Now that we are here, happy and safe together, let's get married." She takes a deep breath. "Galinda Upland, will you be my wife?"
Milky arms flung around neck flushed a deep emerald, Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Glinda secretly wonders if this was the reason Elphie had told her to get her nails done yesterday, her so precious fiancée and so precious ring glimmering in soft moonlight.
October 1045.
Elphaba glances down nervously, legs pushing up and down on the bed’s edge, hands clutching onto Glinda's. She's panting, beads of sweat racing down flushed skin, melting into tear streaks. Shrill screams have stopped, replaced with the loud cry of their newborn, full of life. Elphaba lets out a deep breath she did not know she was holding in. She breaks into tears as she hugs her wife tightly and strokes on damp curls in quiet affirmations. "Elphie, I'm gross right now, go and check the baby."
Right, the baby! Their baby. She turns to the corner with all the nurses and midwives, where the small adorable thing is getting cleaned up, cooed and hushed. "A healthy perfect lovely little girl, Madams." Tired as she is, Glinda beams up at the prospect of playing dress up for days. Elphaba frowns slightly before cautiously raising her voice. "Is she green?"
Glinda turns to shush her. "Elphie, we have already discussed this. Green or not, we will love her all the same!"
Later, after everyone has retired, Elphaba takes the child in her embrace, sleeping untroubled. "Genetics is a wonderful thing, isn't it? She has your nose and eyes. And my lips, I think. Do you think she will have my hair or yours?"
"I'm rooting for yours. She is going to be such a gorgeous girl when she grows up."
Elphaba sits beside her on the bed and presses a kiss on the back of her hand. "Thank you, my sweet, for bringing her into our family. I love you, Glinda. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."
Glinda smiles, very pleased, as a second kiss gets pressed on her cheek. "Why, Miss Elphaba, you're going soft. I love you too. But the next one is on you, alright? This whole thing hurts!"
November 1073.
"Momsie! Momsicle! We are here!"
Glinda takes the baking tray out of the oven, the heavenly scent of butter and vanilla fills up her senses as Alma's voice calls out from the entryway. Alma, roughly named after Ama Clutch, has taken over the throne last year. Elphaba wipes her hands on white apron with small, pink flowers scattered all over. She has some white hair now, they both, actually, having retreated to Glinda's childhood home at the Upland Estate for retirement. Their son, Liir, has just finished defending his thesis in Shiz, right on track to become the youngest professor in all of history. Every two weeks they make time to visit Gillikin. The two women in Frottica, in turn, would occasionally take trips down to Shiz and Emerald City, and once in a while visit Fiyero at the Vinkus on the other side of Oz.
Over the dinner table, they chat about everything and nothing at all. Glinda badmouthing some old teachers back in her days then asking about Alma's work. Elphaba taking quiet notes of how to improve her recipes while asking about Liir's academic interests. Alma consulting her ex-politician moms about some new policies. Liir dissecting the pros and cons of teaching versus researching.
After dinner, Glinda and Elphaba take a walk in the courtyard where they once played snow fight. Hand in hand, always is.
"Thank you for always being by my side. I love you."
"I love you too. Gosh, am I not the luckiest woman in Oz?"
December 1101.
Elphaba and Glinda alone in their bedroom, their children and grandchildren solemnly waiting outside. Glinda's health has been deteriorating in recent years as time’s ruthless claws stretch deeper into her. She doesn't have much time left; she knows it. Her wife knows it too, her grip on her wrist unyielding, not yet ready to let go. "I love you, Elphie. But my time has come. We will meet again; I can feel it."
Elphaba is crying. She too probably, but right now, she is contented. She has lived a happy life. A perfect, happy, fulfilling life, one with her beautiful wife and their beautiful family, changing each other and their world for the better, for good.
She feels it now, strong and commanding, the pull from the other side. Around her, magic hums. That's how Glinda the Good passes, in magic, in the arms of her wife, in love.
Elphaba, in her last moment, has casted a spell to imprint a mark on their souls. One that will allow them to find each other again and again, in their next lives and their next next lives and eternally next. One last kiss pressed on cold hand, wrinkled, pink and gold shining, relentless.
"I love you, Glinda. I've loved you my whole life. I love you the most."