Chapter Text
Agathokakological: Composed of both good and evil.
Runner up word: Absolution: The act of forgiving someone for having done something wrong or sinful/a remission of sins pronounced by a priest (as in the sacrament of reconciliation).
"But… that was the milkflower's fault, not yours," said Galinda, equal parts confusified and confidentous. To her, it was as obvious and undeniable as rain. Had Frex not forced Melena to chew milkflowers day and night, perhaps Nessarose would've been born with untangled legs. Perhaps Melena would still be alive. But that was the land of what-might-have-been, and there was always an ache when reality set back in.
Perhaps to Frex, the ache was too much, and so as the story in his head went, Elphaba was the one to blame for everything. She already represented to him everything he hated, the infidelation that infected both sides of the family, so perhaps it was easier to point the finger at her than to look in the mirror and realize the hand that fed Melena was not green.
But to Galinda, baby Elphaba's innocence was obvious. She was too young, too little, to concoct some sort of potion for her mother to consume every day for an entire pregnancy. To Galinda it was just an obvious statement of factation (the kind that was true), and therein lay the puzzlement. Surely a man as smart as Frex—a Munchkinland governor and the Unionist minister—would know that. Wouldn't he?
Elphaba herself sat still, utterly silent. What…? What did she just say…?
Galinda's voice echoed around her head. "It was the milkflower's fault. Not yours. It was never your fault, Elphaba. You aren't to blame." And she could hear the sincerity within the incredulation of Galinda's voice. "How could it possibly be your fault? You aren't much older than Nessarose yourself. Surely you see that. I think you do… And I think he did too, even if he tried to close his eyes to it…"
Tale as old as time. The child punished for the sins of the father. Elphaba's hands clenched into fists in her lap as she and Galinda sat side by side on her dorm room bed, uncomfortably close…
No, not uncomfortably. Uncomfortably implied that Elphaba wanted to distance herself again. But strangely enough… for once… she didn't want that. At least not with Galinda. At least not tonight.
The hat… The Ozdust Ballroom… How quickly the night could change… The girl Elphaba was sure she would loathe her whole life long was suddenly the first friend she'd ever had. The first one to ever forgive her for anything…
Elphaba conversated with Galinda until the emotions overwhelmified her, and she took flight from their shared dorm room, finding solace and isolation in the cool, quiet, lonely night.
When she returned to the dorm room, she hoped to creep in quietly and slip into sleep like her roommate, without said roommate noticing. But even though Elphaba opened the door so slowly that the hinge did not creak, and the light did not spill across Galinda's face, the pretty little blonde thing still stirred.
"Mmm… Elphie…? Is that you…?" Her voice was so soft and small when she was sleepy. Elphaba almost felt herself charmed, bewitched, heart a-flutter and a-twitch. It made her cross and embarrassed and flusterified all at once.
"Who else would I be?" she muttered gruffly, voice low as she confessed her return. Heh, the prodigal roommate? "A Quwaddling-wing Bird? No one else has a key to this room except…"
"Did I… scare you off earlier?" Galinda muttered, eyes still closed, but head shifting, gold curls spilling across her Gillikin silk pillow.
"Heh, interesting choice of words," Elphaba's hand tightened on the brass doorknob, her attempt at sarcasm gone over the sleepy Galinda's golden, empty head. "Usually between the two of us, I'm the more frighterous one…"
"Then why was it you who went running, and not me?"
For a moment, Elphaba fell silent, only the coolness of the doorknob grounding her, although it was beginning to warm up as a slurge of emotions filled her. Emotions she did not want to face.
"I'm just not used to talking to other people—outside of my sister and father, of course—for such an extendacious period of time."
"Oh. Well. I'm sorry." Finally, a single blue eye opened, glinting in the dim light of the dorm room. "Not for talking to you, I mean," Galinda yawned. "I just hadn't meant to make you run away…"
"Well, I'm back now, aren't I? So it doesn't really matter, does it?" Elphaba muttered, finally stepping inside and shutting the door. I simply needed a bit of a clearabout for my mind, so I took a walkaround. That's all.
"Maybe not," Galinda sighed, eye closing again. She would never be sure why she chose to say what she said next. "But it mattered to me. Enough to bring it up." Enough to want to apologize. As hard and embarrocious as that was… "Because you deserve it, Elphie…" Galinda continued, voice small. "You deserve for someone to apologize when they do something wrong to you…"
"No, really, Galinda, it's not necessary," Elphaba muttered, almost cutting her off, but then she cut herself off, feeling a sudden sharp ache in her throat, like a Banglebat fang. She blinked rapidly and turned toward her bed, sinking gratefully into the simple, dark sheets. She tried to amuse herself with the contrast to Galinda's fluffy, sparkly pink sheets, but she couldn't stop thinking about what Galinda had just said.
"I'm sorry." Elphaba wasn't going to be pithy about it, and say that they were the two hardest, strongest words in their language, but in that moment, she would've believed it. Forgiveness was something she both loathed and loved, sought and repelled. To receive it now so suddenly, so directly, left her paralyzed, frozified. She could scarcely think. Then one thought, one word, surfaced above all the others.
Agathokakological: Composed and comprised of both good and evil. It was a term she heard many times around her Unionist father, not that she would've considered herself anywhere near as religious as him. Her relationship with her "holy, divine" Father was as complicated as her relationship to her earthly father. But he spoke of it, forgiveness of sin, salvation through religion. Absolution…
"To err is mortal," Elphaba murmured without thinking. "To forgive is godly." Then she laughed at herself, sharp and harsh, but inwardly embarrassed she'd suddenly spoken so carelessly. "Not that I ever saw myself as one deeply intertwixt with divinity."
"Are you calling me a goddess, Elphie?" asked Galinda, finally opening both eyes as she looked both pleased and flattered. How delicorice! Maybe I should do this forgiveness thing more often…
"Don't let it go to your pretty little head, my sweet," Elphaba teased, unable to stop a small chuckle. I fear there isn't enough space in there for too many excitacious thoughts or feelings all at once. "Besides, I've never been one for gods, goddesses, or any sort of deity. If you ask me, they're all a bunch of smoke-and-mirrors, adult-children on a larger scale! They're just reflections of humanity itself, in its most direastic form."
"Rather scandalacious of you to be declaring so loudly," Galinda giggled. She was hardly religious herself, a believer in name, family, and upbringing only, but not in heart, mind, or spirit. Although for her, it was the religion devoted to the mythic fairy goddess who enchanted the Land of Oz into existence, Queen Lurline.
"Let's just say, I've never felt the forgiveness, nor received the absolution, of the divine before," said Elphaba with a dry, dark smile. "On the contrary, I was born a devil, branded and decreeded wicked from birth. I had nearly every deity sending their followers after me, or so said followers claimed, heh. They always came hurling curses and slinging hexes rather than blessings. So that is why it is my hypothesis that perhaps the divine simply does not exist. Or it is not as forgiving as the followers claim." She drew herself up in mock haughtiness, well aware that although her thoughts may have been "blasphemeral", they were far from original, or truly groundbreaking.
Galinda's face became unexpectedly serious, her voice growing soft again. "That is truly sad, Elphie."
"What?" Elphaba scoffed, green lips twisting in a sneer. "Don't tell me you care about this sort of—?"
"No, not what you said about gods and goddesses. I'm just… sorry nobody's ever said sorry to you before…" I was truly rampunctious before, wasn't I, Elphie? I want to be Good, but how can I be Good if I don't make up for it when I do Bad?
It was a passing thought Elphaba tried not to keep, but Galinda unwittingly brought it right back to the forefront. She was the first person to ever treat Elphaba like this. What a cosmic joke. Was the Unnamed God laughing? Was Lurline in cahoots with Him?
This girl… THIS girl… This… this… blissful, blonde, bubbly, braindead bimbus! She was the very first… Elphaba felt a prickle of embarrassment. Galinda had indeed been cruel in their earliest days. That much was undeniable. But Elphaba fought back. Not that it was undeserved. But in a way, she antagonized Galinda almost as much as Galinda antagonized her. She thought back to the time when she rolled her eyes at the thought of Galinda somehow being capable of helping her sister, of being truly kind to Elphaba herself.
Even though, in the beginning, Galinda proved Elphaba right in the worst way possible, humiliating her in front of everyone, Galinda then proved Elphaba wonderfully wrong the very same night. She apologized through dance. She approached the girl she outcasted, and stood beside her as everyone gawked and gamored. It was mortifying and frightifying at first, but Galinda held fast, stronger than Elphaba expected. She danced proudly with the green girl whom she once loathed. She had apologized.
The girl Elphaba thought was nothing but a spoiled brat in a pink dress waving a plastic wand like a child's sparkleclick toy did have a hidden heart. She had more emotional intelligence, more capacity for self-reflectation, than Elphaba at first ever would've believed.
Agathokakological: Composed and comprised of both good and evil. All right, Ms. Galinda. I think I can forgive you too. You gave me absalvation. Now you in return are absolved. Heh. Judge not lest ye be judged by the same metric. Perhaps you and I have come out on the other side of judgement. Now, let's see where our new friendship takes us. She felt almost childishly giddy. She'd never had a best friend before, after all.
"S-so, Elphie, are we good…?" Galinda asked shyly as Elphaba finally closed her eyes, smiling.
"Hmmm? Oh… Yeah…" Elphaba thought for a moment. "Yeah… We're good…"
"Heh." She heard Galinda sigh in relief. "Good."
AN: "I'm Not That Girl" has a lyric "I wasn't born for the rose and pearl" and it's Elphaba singing about how she doesn't think she was born for love, but what I find cool about it, in America, the rose and pear are the birthflower and birthstone of June, the month of marriage. I can't find anything confirming if that lyric was an intentional reference of the month of June, but I figured now was as good a time as any to speculate, LOL!