Chapter Text
It had taken Galinda a few months to tire of the usual routine: the whispered comments, the snide giggles, and the lazy jabs at Elphaba’s green skin. It wasn’t that she’d stopped participating entirely—oh no, that would be unthinkable—but the novelty had worn off. Frankly, it was beneath her.
So that’s why she had to interject when she heard the boy.
Elphaba stood in the hallway, lost in the pages of a thick, ancient tome, entirely oblivious to the commotion around her. The corridor was bustling, students weaving past, most giving her a wide berth—whether out of habit, disdain, or sheer discomfort, she couldn’t tell and didn’t care.
But one student wasn’t content with slipping by. A younger boy from another class stopped short, his path blocked by Elphaba’s hunched form. “Ugh, move it, green bean,” he spat, his voice cutting and juvenile.
But before she could conjure a biting retort, a sharp, saccharine voice cut through the air. “ Excuse me?”
Elphaba’s grip on her book tightened slightly, though she didn’t bother looking up. She’d heard worse and far more original insults. Before she could summon the energy for even a cutting glance, Galinda’s voice sliced through the air like a finely sharpened blade.
“Oh, puh-lease ,” Galinda said, stepping forward with an exaggerated sigh. Her entourage fluttered nervously behind her, their eyes darting between the boy and Elphaba like this was some impromptu spectacle.
The boy turned, his sneer faltering as Galinda fixed him with a look that could have curdled milk.
“Is that honestly the best you can come up with?” she asked, tilting her head just enough for her curls to catch the light. “Because, truly, if you’re going to insult someone, you could at least try being clever . But no, you had to go for the tired green-skin jab. How original.”
The boy sputtered, clearly caught off guard.
“And another thing,” Galinda continued, folding her arms as she stepped closer, “if you think you can just insult her and walk away, you’re sorely mistaken. Elphaba’s my problem, if anyone’s going to take issue with her…”—her voice wavered for only a fraction of a second—“…her general demeanor, it’s going to be me .”
Elphaba’s eyes flicked upward, narrowing slightly at the possessive tone. The boy muttered something unintelligible and slinked off, leaving Galinda to turn her attention to Elphaba.
Galinda placed her hands on her hips, cocking an eyebrow. “But seriously , why are you just standing there? This isn’t a garden, artichoke. You’re blocking the path.”
As the hallway cleared, Elphaba snapped her book shut with deliberate slowness. She cast a sidelong glance at Galinda, her expression unreadable.
“Well, my hero,” she said, her tone dry. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, her boots clicking sharply against the polished floor as she strode away.
Galinda watched her go, lips slightly parted, her hands still on her hips as if poised for some grand retort. None came. Instead, she found herself staring after Elphaba, her brow furrowing just slightly.
“Did she just… dismiss me?” Galinda muttered under her breath. The audacity. The nerve .
Pfannee, who had been lingering just out of earshot, stepped closer, smirking. “You know,” he said, “for someone you claim to dislike, you spend an awful lot of time defending her.”
Galinda’s head snapped toward him, her glare sharp enough to send him retreating a step. “And you spend an awful lot of time saying things no one asked for, Pfannee. Perhaps you’d like to take your observations elsewhere?”
Pfannee raised his hands in mock surrender, muttering something unintelligible before shuffling off.
Galinda turned back toward the direction Elphaba had gone, her entourage murmuring nervously behind her. She ignored them, biting the inside of her cheek as her thoughts raced.
The gall of that girl. To walk away without so much as a proper thank-you after Galinda —Galinda Upland—had gone out of her way to stand up for her. It was infuriating. Maddening, even. And yet…
And yet, there was something undeniably satisfying about the way Elphaba’s stride never faltered, her confidence unwavering even in the face of insults or praise. It wasn’t just anyone who could brush Galinda off so effortlessly.
With a huff, Galinda flipped her hair over her shoulder and started walking the opposite way, her heels clicking decisively against the floor.
“Ungrateful artichoke,” she muttered, though the faintest smile teased at her lips.
With that she made her way to class, the room was buzzing with the usual chatter as students shuffled into their seats, ready for another dreary history lesson from Doctor Dillamond.
The students groaned collectively as Doctor Dillamond handed out the group assignments for their upcoming project. The room was filled with rustling papers and murmurs as people glanced over their partners, silently hoping for an easy ride.
“Alright, class,” Doctor Dillamond said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You’ll be working in pairs for this project. Your task will be to research the history of Oz and prepare a presentation for the class. I expect thorough analysis and critical thought. No slackers.”
The students glanced at their papers, a mix of excitement and dread in their eyes. Elphaba scanned the paper in front of her, her eyes narrowing when she saw her partner. Galinda Upland.
She wasn’t thrilled, but she was a little curious. Galinda always seemed to excel in these projects, even if Elphaba had no idea how! She adjusted her glasses and turned to her new partner, who was already twirling her pen in her fingers.
“Looks like we’re working together,” Galinda said flatly.
Elphaba glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “I see that,” she said, completely unfazed.
Before Elphaba could say more, a voice interrupted from across the room. “I’d rather flunk this class than work with her,” a boy sneered, gesturing toward Elphaba.
The room fell silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air. A few students exchanged uneasy glances, some chuckling. Elphaba’s face hardened, but she didn’t respond. She was used to the insults. It was nothing new. Galinda on the other hand without missing a beat shot up from her seat and turned toward the boy, her expression one of pure disdain.
“Excuse me?” Galinda’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. “You don’t need to group with her to flunk this class. From the folded papers you got after midterm, I’d be quiet if I were you.”
The boy’s face turned beet red as the other students stifled laughs. Galinda’s words had clearly hit their mark, and the boy looked down at his desk, avoiding eye contact.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Galinda continued, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair with a smug smile, “we have work to do.”
Elphaba stared at her, slightly surprised. She hadn’t expected Galinda to defend her again—at least, not so bluntly. For a brief moment, the usual indifference melted from Elphaba’s face, replaced by something almost appreciative. Galinda’s unwavering confidence made her feel something she hadn’t expected… something that made the usual sharpness of her own defenses feel a little less necessary
Galinda noticed the shift in Elphaba’s expression and raised an eyebrow, her voice low but teasing. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Elphaba didn’t say anything. Instead, she just gave her a small, barely perceptible nod.
Doctor Dillamond stood at the front of the class, adjusting his glasses as he surveyed the room. His sharp ears caught the remnants of tension in the air, though the earlier disturbance had seemingly been resolved. The hum of conversation fell silent, and everyone turned their attention toward him. His voice, steady and authoritative, filled the room.
He cleared his throat, his authoritative voice cutting through the quiet.
“Class,” he began, “let’s focus on the topic at hand, shall we?”
"With your assigned partner, your task is to research the current state of affairs in any region of Oz. You’ll then tie it back to something significant from its history. How these events have shaped the present, how the past influences the decisions being made today."
There was a pause as he let the words sink in, before continuing, “The key here is to draw connections between history and the present—understanding the roots of current events and the impact they have on Oz as a whole."
"And with that," he said, a note of finality in his voice, "be on your way. You have four weeks to complete this, and I do not want any lackluster or surface-level assignments. This is a critical part of your grade. Good luck."
"We can discuss it later," Elphaba muttered, glancing at Galinda as she stood. "Maybe this week."
Galinda didn’t look up, still distracted by her bag. "Yeah, sure." She paused for a moment, then, without looking at Elphaba, added, "We can meet somewhere else, though. I won’t ruin the sanctity of our room with studying. You do enough of that as it is."
Elphaba raised an eyebrow. "You do know the room isn’t sacred, right? It’s just a room."
"Well, it’s sacred to me," Galinda replied, finally looking up. She gave Elphaba a teasing smile. "Let’s pick somewhere else."
Elphaba gave a small, dry smile. "Fine. I guess we’ll go to the library, then."
Galinda froze for a moment, clearly unfamiliar with the idea. "The library? What’s that?"
Elphaba blinked, a little taken aback by the question. "It’s where you go to study, Galinda. Where they keep books."
"Books?" Galinda echoed, confused. "You mean all those dusty things? I thought that was for old people or nerds."
Elphaba’s smile faltered. She wasn’t sure why, but the comment stung more than it should have. She looked away, trying to shrug it off, but her usual quick-witted retort was slower to come this time. She took a small step back, her voice quieter. "It’s not just for nerds, or old people. It’s for everyone. It’s where you find research material."
Galinda blinked, still not entirely grasping the weight of Elphaba’s words. She was about to respond, but before she could, Elphaba had already turned and started walking away.
“Hey, ugh-!” Galinda called out, a slight edge to her voice, but Elphaba didn’t slow down. She just kept walking, her pace quickening a little. Galinda, still unsure of what had caused the shift, took a step forward but stopped herself before fully following.
She saw Elphaba’s back, her posture rigid, and an unexpected pang of guilt shot through her. It hadn’t occurred to Galinda how Elphaba might have interpreted her words, especially when it seemed like Elphaba was already kind of sensitive about... well, a lot of things.
Galinda shook her head. She was about to call out again when her friends came up to her, all smiles and teasing remarks about the assignment. But for some reason, they didn’t seem to help. Galinda didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying.
Before she could dwell on it any longer, her friends pulled her in the opposite direction down the hall.
“Well, well, well,” Pfanne said with a teasing grin, “looks like you’re stuck with the green girl for the project. That should be fun.”
Galinda, waved off the comment with a huff. “Ugh, hey, at least I won’t have to do much work, right? You’ve seen her in class, she knows everything,” Galinda said, her voice full of an exaggerated mock sincerity. “I can just sit back and look pretty while she does all the research.”
Her friends burst into laughter, the kind of gleeful cackling that came from poking fun at the outcast. Galinda joined in, tossing her hair for effect, but there was a slight twitch in her smile that she didn’t quite manage to hide.
The nagging discomfort from talking about the library still clung to her, whispering in the back of her mind. Elphaba’s quieter tone, the faltering smile, it was… peculiar. It wasn’t like Galinda cared, of course. But the memory pricked at her pride, and she didn’t like the way it made her feel.
“Anyway,” one of her friends said, hooking an arm through hers, “let’s go grab lunch before the lines get any longer.”
“Good idea,” Galinda said, shaking off her thoughts. Her heels clicked against the tiled floors of the dining hall as they entered, her practiced smile already back in place. As she entered the bustling dining hall for lunch, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking dishes greeted her. But one voice cut through the noise, sharp and mocking.
“Don’t get too close; I don’t want to catch whatever that is.”
Galinda’s perfectly styled hair bounced as she turned her head toward the source of the insult. A boy at one of the tables was smirking, his comment aimed squarely at Elphaba, who stood stiffly a few feet away, her tray in hand.
The boy’s table erupted into laughter, but it didn’t last long. Galinda’s voice sliced through the mirth like a knife.
“Ugh, really? That’s the best you can come up with?” she drawled, her tone dripping with disgust as she made her way toward the group. “Honestly, if you’re going to insult someone, at least be clever about it. What’s next? Calling her a ‘grassy green bean’? Or maybe a ‘moldy lime’? Wow, how utterly groundbreaking.”
The boy’s smirk faltered as the students around him exchanged awkward glances.
Elphaba, who had been ready to snap back, froze in place. Her emerald eyes darted toward Galinda, narrowing suspiciously as she tried to gauge her motives.
Galinda turned her attention to Elphaba with a dramatic huff. “And you,” she began, gesturing toward her. “If you insist on trudging around in the same dreary black every day, you could at least try accessorizing. A belt, a brooch— something. Honestly, it’s like you’re determined to make my eyes bleed.”
Elphaba raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a slight snare. “Oh, because you’re so original,” she deadpanned, her tone thick with sarcasm.
Galinda blinked at the retort, momentarily caught off guard, but before she could reply, Elphaba turned and strode away toward an empty table, leaving her behind.
Her friends, who had been lingering nearby, rolled their eyes as they pulled Galinda toward their usual spot.
“Seriously, Galinda,” one of them muttered as they sat down. “Why do you keep defending her? It’s getting weird.”
“I wasn’t defending her,” Galinda shot back, tossing her hair. “I was correcting him for being such an amateur.”
Shenshen rolled her eyes. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Galinda huffed, her eyes flickering toward Elphaba’s distant table. Something about the way she’d walked off, so unbothered, left her oddly unsettled. But she quickly dismissed the thought and turned back to her friends, determined to focus on anything but her strange, growing preoccupation with the green girl.
If only it were that easy.
Though the project had been assigned days ago, any attempt to discuss it seemed futile. Elphaba was clearly ignoring and avoiding Galinda, her presence like a shadow that slipped away the moment Galinda tried to approach. It wasn’t that Galinda cared, of course—but it was infuriating.
Honestly, how hard is it to just sit down and plan?
Instead, she opted to feign confidence, loudly mentioning to her friends that she was “letting Elphaba have her space” and that it was all part of some grand strategy to keep things running smoothly. Elphaba’s behavior became more pronounced. She would return to the dorm late at night, long after Galinda had already gone to sleep, and by the time Galinda woke up the next morning, Elphaba was long gone. She would arrive at class just a few minutes before the bell rang, always a little breathless, and would promptly take a seat as far from Galinda as possible.
Throughout the lessons, Elphaba would keep her focus rigidly on the front of the room, as though deliberately blocking out any potential interaction. And when class ended, as if on cue, she would gather her things and bolt out the door, leaving Galinda to watch her go, the words that had been simmering on her tongue all day still unspoken.
She didn’t play about her grades, and Galinda knew that much. The thought of the project hanging over their heads, with Elphaba dodging any attempt at collaboration, left her restless.
So, one day, after class, she decided to follow Elphaba. It wasn’t hard. Elphaba had that telltale stride—the kind of walk that made it obvious when someone was purposefully avoiding the bustle of the crowds. Galinda followed, keeping her distance, watching as Elphaba slipped into a large, quiet building that Galinda had never ventured into before.
The library.
The moment the doors swung shut behind Elphaba, Galinda’s eyes widened. The place was packed. It was filled with rows and rows of books, towering shelves stacked high with ancient, thick tomes, all the way up to the ceiling. The smell of paper and ink hit her immediately. It was… almost like an entirely different world.
Galinda hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should just leave, but no. She had a point to make. She needed to talk to Elphaba.
She walked in, heels clicking sharply against the floor. The noise echoed. The silence of the library suddenly felt all the more oppressive, but there was something about it that made Galinda’s stomach twist with something she couldn’t quite place.
As she stepped further into the room, Elphaba—already seated at a table in the back, surrounded by piles of open books—looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Galinda’s presence.
“Ugh,” Galinda muttered under her breath, visibly trying to hold her composure. “This place is… overwhelming.”
Elphaba didn’t answer. She merely returned to her reading, a thick volume held with both hands, her face expressionless. Galinda cleared her throat, louder this time, standing a few feet away.
“I thought we could get started on the project,” Galinda said, her tone half-joking, though there was a bite to it, giving her hair a toss-toss. “You know, since someone would rather not submit anything apparently and risk a failing grade.”
Elphaba’s eyes flicked up again, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not avoiding anything, Galinda,” she replied quietly, her voice flat but steady. “Just getting some work done.”
Galinda stared at her, taken aback by the sharpness, the coldness. She was used to Elphaba being distant, but not quite like this. The corner of her lips twitched, though, as she forced a smile, leaning against one of the shelves nearby.
“I didn’t say you were,” Galinda shot back, trying to sound casual, even as her thoughts raced. “I just thought maybe we could, you know, get ahead. It’s a project. I’d like to—uh—actually get a good grade.”
The silence between them stretched thin, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages turning. Galinda fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, looking around the library awkwardly. She wasn’t used to being here, not by a long shot, but she had a mission. And she wasn’t about to back down now.
“I thought you didn’t like libraries,” Elphaba said after a beat, her voice still flat, though there was a hint of something questioning buried in it.
Galinda’s face flushed slightly, but she recovered quickly, lifting her chin. “I didn’t say I liked it,” she replied with a slight sneer. “But I know the importance of getting things done.”
“Right,” Elphaba said, her gaze drifting back to her book, a flicker of something almost amused in her eyes. “Getting things done. Sure.”
Galinda took a breath, steeling herself. She wasn’t used to this, to this coldness from Elphaba. But she wasn’t about to back down. “Well, we’re here now. So we might as well get started, right?”
Elphaba nodded slowly, though her fingers didn’t leave the pages of her book.
The atmosphere in the library was stifling—so quiet, so still—compared to the usual buzz of the campus. Galinda had to force herself to concentrate, to focus on the task at hand, but she could feel the tension hanging between them, thick and heavy.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Elphaba closed her book with a soft thud and pushed it aside, her gaze lifting to meet Galinda’s for the first time since she’d arrived.
“If you’re really serious about this,” Elphaba said softly, “then let’s work.”
Galinda blinked. For a second, she wasn’t sure how to react. But she didn’t let it show. “I always am,” she replied smoothly, though her words held a sharper edge than she’d intended.
Galinda had no idea why she’d come here. Why she was pushing so hard. But it seemed like, for once, Elphaba didn’t care. Or maybe she just didn’t want to be bothered.
Either way, Galinda wasn’t going to let her off the hook.
"Fine," Galinda said, sitting down across from her, the chair creaking beneath her as she adjusted herself. "Let’s see what you’ve gotten so far."
Elphaba simply nodded, pulling another book toward her. The pages were worn and weathered, the ink on the margins a jumbled mix of notes and underlined phrases. She scanned over the material in front of her, a brief flash of doubt crossing her face before she turned her attention back to Galinda.
"I was thinking of focusing on Gillikin County," Elphaba said after a brief pause, her voice steady but thoughtful. "It’s a part of Oz that’s known for its beauty, but few people truly understand the historical significance behind it. The land and the people… it’s all tied into this long, complex history of independence and resistance."
Galinda raised an eyebrow. "Gillikin County?" Her tone was light but tinged with curiosity. "Isn’t that a little... broad? I mean, I know it’s known for its natural beauty, but that’s about it. People don't usually think about its history."
Elphaba glanced at her, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "Exactly. That’s the problem. Everyone knows it for its scenery, the way the light catches the mountains in the early morning, the fields of flowers. But no one remembers how the region has fought to maintain its own identity against the central authority of the Emerald City."
Galinda shifted uncomfortably in her chair, glancing at the piles of books and papers in front of them. She could see Elphaba’s intensity, but something about the way she brought up Gillikin made her pause. Most people she knew—especially the glamorous folks in high society—only ever discussed the Upper Uplands in terms of their picturesque beauty. They rarely paid attention to what had come before, to the complex political struggles and cultural battles that had once defined the region.
"Well, I don’t know," Galinda said, hesitating. "It’s not exactly the sort of thing most people are interested in. The Uplands are just a place you visit for vacation, not really for studying our history. People like the idea of it as a natural paradise , but—" She trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.
Elphaba’s gaze sharpened. "That’s exactly it. Everyone overlooks the history of the Uplands because it’s inconvenient. It’s easier to enjoy the beauty than to acknowledge the past struggles of the people who lived there. The uprisings, the resistance to the Emerald City’s influence, the local conflicts—it all shaped the present."
Galinda blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She had never heard someone who wasn’t from the Upper Uplands considered the history in such depth. To her, the region was something other people studied or visited, a lovely escape for those who wanted to take in the natural beauty and then leave again.
"You know," Galinda said, a little awkwardly, "I didn’t realize you were so into history like this. I mean, I knew you were always reading about stuff, but… the Uplands?" She raised an eyebrow. "People just like the scenery."
Elphaba paused, almost sensing the hesitation in Galinda’s tone. "That’s exactly the point," she replied, her voice cool but firm. "The Uplands might be renowned for their breathtaking landscapes, but it’s the untold history that people should be paying attention to. The Upper Uplands weren’t just scenic views—they were once the stronghold for a group of people who refused to be ruled by outside forces. That’s where the real story is."
Galinda was quiet for a long moment, letting Elphaba’s words sink in. It was easier to keep Oz as something beautiful and uncomplicated, where everything had its place and its purpose. Why couldn’t they just do it about the history of Gillikin County instead of harping on the past…
"I guess," Galinda said slowly, "most people don't think about that side of it. It’s not exactly the kind of thing that’s talked about at the parties in the Emerald City."
"Exactly," Elphaba said, her lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. "But the past always influences the present, Galinda. The people of the Uplands may have been reduced to little more than a scenic backdrop in the minds of the wealthy, but their struggles shaped the politics of Oz. They shaped the way regions like Gillikin, the Winkies, and even Munchkinland interact with the capital."
Galinda blinked, her eyebrows furrowing. "I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about it. Most people—"
"Most people don’t know about it," Elphaba cut in quietly. "And that’s what’s wrong."
Galinda shifted in her chair, the implications of Elphaba’s words slowly beginning to settle in. There was a certain weight to the silence between them now, a shift in perspective she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t about the beauty of the Uplands anymore—it was about everything that had been ignored, buried beneath the surface.
Galinda paused, fidgeting slightly. "I don't know..." she began, her voice quieter. "I don’t know if I want to write about my home."Galinda began cautiously, her voice almost uncertain, "but I guess we could try it. Gillikin County, Upper Uplands… If it’s that important, maybe it deserves to be heard."
Elphaba looked up at her, her gaze intense. "Exactly. There’s a lot more to Oz than what people see on the surface. Sometimes, the real beauty lies in the parts no one notices."
Galinda stared at her for a moment, and then, almost with a sense of newfound understanding, she nodded. "Alright. We’ll do it. Upper Uplands it is."
Elphaba gave a small, approving nod, the faintest of smiles pulling at the corner of her lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.