Chapter Text
Predictably, Galinda isn’t thrilled with waking up still dressed in her dirty school uniform. Elphaba gets woken halfway through the night to the blonde slipping under the covers beside her, snuggling down and tangling her bare legs with Elphaba’s as she grumbles sleepily about her bed being dirty.
Elphaba’s fond smile probably belies the fact that she’s awake, but she stays still and lets Galinda situate herself, feeling the blonde huff and whine and finally settle down with her head tucked in the crook of Elphaba’s arm. “G’nigh, Elphie,” Galinda mumbles, drifting off within seconds of getting comfortable.
Elphaba stays awake just a few seconds longer, trying to commit the moment to memory.
The morning dawns a bit too quickly for either girl, the hours that passed while asleep far too short to fully rejuvenate them. Neither complains as they get ready for the day, but they both can feel it, the heavy weight of sleep deprivation pulling at their limbs, their minds moving like molasses.
“Eat something, please,” Elphaba prompts- gently but firmly as she slides a tray Galinda’s way. They’re sitting away from her gaggle of friends today, and Elphaba’s hoping the more peaceful start to the morning will encourage Galinda to actually partake in breakfast.
She knows Galinda isn’t purposefully starving herself, but it hurts to see her fade away all the same. She’s had to take her skirts in again, and she looks impossibly tiny even bundled up in thicker autumn clothing that hides her form. Despite nodding her assent, she still only picks at the food in front of her.
“Come on, Galinda. These are the last fresh summer fruits we’re going to see for a while,” Elphaba wheedles. She plucks a strawberry from the fruit bowl, carefully cutting the top off before holding it out to Galinda, hand not wavering as they both stare each other down for a moment.
Finally, with a small huff, Galinda leans forward and takes the strawberry straight from Elphaba’s hand, Elphaba grinning triumphantly at her win. She keeps feeding Galinda fruit from both Galinda’s bowl and her own, the blonde leaning against her shoulder drowsily, her eyes half-lidded as she chews slowly.
“Stop,” she eventually whispers, turning her head away when Elphaba offers more. “Stop, Elphaba, or it’s just going to come back up.”
Elphaba frowns at that, but she doesn’t push, setting the last piece down on her tray. Galinda whines, hand over her stomach as she curls even closer into Elphaba’s side. “Do you feel sick?” Elphaba checks, but she knows the answer even before Galinda shakes her head.
“Just too much,” Galinda says, voice muffled by Elphaba’s sweater. Elphaba looks at the tray again. She’d managed to sneak in a few bites of porridge, but it was a paltry amount of food altogether. Half of Galinda’s problem these days seemed to be just that her system was no longer accustomed to being full.
“We’ll work on it,” Elphaba says quietly, and she pretends not to hear when Galinda whines again, a childish sound of complaint. Her teeth bite into her cheek to hide her fond grin. They stay curled up like that for a moment, the breeze tugging at their sweaters as Galinda almost drops back to sleep.
“Alright, silly,” Elphaba eventually says, pulling them both to their feet. “Let’s get to class.”
***
Class, dorm, city, Ozdust, sleep, rinse, repeat. That’s Elphaba’s life these days as time clicks ever forward. It’s…a lot. With Elphaba determined to still keep up as best she can in school, and also determined not to miss an outing that might let her talk with the Animals again, she’s been running herself nearly as ragged as, well, as Galinda.
How the blonde has been going at this speed all semester is a mystery to Elphaba. Her body feels every hour of sleep she’s unable to get on this brutal new schedule, the exhaustion tugging at her lids through long lectures and lunch periods. The skin under her eyes darkens like a bruise, and her feet drag as she trudges onward.
As her appetite wanes and her schedule fills, eating becomes an ongoing battle against time that it always seems to lose. Elphaba forgets lunch and then makes up for it at odd hours, studying in the library with bread in one hand and a book in the other. She’s starting to see why Galinda never seems to consume enough, and she hates that she’s letting herself fall into such terrible habits as well. Just days ago, she had been pestering the blonde, and now it’s Elphaba whose stomach is empty more often than it’s full.
Despite her best efforts, Elphaba’s performance at school also continues to regress-- an essay is returned covered in red, a pop quiz is handed back with a worried frown. The weight of her own failure burns in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to stop or slow down. She’s been yanked into this whirlwind orbit by a girl she’s already promised herself she’d follow to the ends of Oz.
And while there are moments when Elphaba would give anything for Galinda to just pause for a second, she can no longer bring herself to be the one to ask. Not when she has her own motives for going out every night, for sneaking off from the dance floor to the back of the bar, mingling with Animals that still won’t let themselves be seen by Elphaba’s best friend.
She pretends not to notice Galinda’s lingering looks as she walks away. She pretends not to notice the irritation between them that grows with every sleepless night.
Subject. The word threads itself through her every thought, waking and slumbering, until she’s jerking awake from dreams that feel more like premonitions of a future that Elphaba cannot bear to see come to pass. Subject. What does it mean? Why is it important?
Elphaba tries to do what the Animals said and asks around to see where her fellow students stand. The general consensus, however, seems to be that most of them just…don’t really care to try and figure it out. “Well, we’re all the Wizard’s subjects,” they say, but Elphaba doesn’t know if they really mean it.
“Even the Animals?” she prods, and a few of them shrug or frown or get a weird look on their face, but all of them eventually nod and say, “Sure. Even the Animals.”
It’s just…the students’ responses don’t seem to line up with the greater story at play. Elphaba knows the Animals wouldn’t have given her this task if it wasn’t important to them. She can see for herself the clear discrimination that runs rampant in Shiz City if one knows what to look for. She believes them when they say it’s a problem-- it just doesn’t seem to have made it to Shiz University.
That’s…a good thing. Right?
Sleep continues to evade Elphaba, her mind too full to let her do much more than toss and turn and get just a few scant hours before she sees Galinda start to wake for her morning routine. The first time Elphaba had been caught wide awake when Galinda slid silently out of bed, the blonde had startled so badly she’d nearly fallen to the floor. Elphaba hadn’t known whether to be amused or concerned, and that alone was a telling sign of where both their moods were at.
Occasionally, Elphaba will fall asleep in Galinda’s bed, or vice versa. Another thunderstorm rattles the glass of their dorm one night, and Galinda spends hours tucked in a ball, held in Elphaba’s arms as she shakes even harder than the branches in the wind. The next three nights in a row, Elphaba stays over in Galinda’s bed, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the fact that they both sleep better when they’re together.
Still-- the fatigue begins to wear on Elphaba, more so than she’s ever had to deal with before. By the time the first frost coats the iron railings like lace, Elphaba has about hit the end of her rope, and she’s clinging desperately to the thin threads that remain. She’s moody and distant and finds herself snapping at Galinda when the other girl tries to ask her what’s wrong. And although she apologizes instantly, she can see that it hit Galinda harder than expected.
“Galinda, I- I didn’t mean it like that,” Elphaba tries, but the truth is, she does want Galinda to leave her alone sometimes. Just long enough for Elphaba to think. To try to piece together her thoughts and feelings and the weight of all that has happened and changed since the semester started. Since she met Galinda.
“It’s fine, Elphaba.”
“It’s not,” Elphaba whispers. Shame swirls within her, clashing against the irritation and fatigue and dragging on every limb and muscle until her whole body feels heavier than lead. So heavy she might sink right through the floor.
“No, it is. I know I can be a bit-- can be too much. And that things have been hectic lately. It’s my fault, not yours. I’m sorry.”
The words to refute that--to say, immediately, that Elphaba doesn’t think that Galinda is too much, that Elphaba was the one who snapped and Galinda isn’t to blame--spring to the tip of her tongue. But--
She can’t make herself say them. They tangle behind her teeth, sticking like taffy to the roof of her mouth, unable to be pulled out despite the way her chest clenches at the sight of Galinda’s eyes glittering and her fingernails digging into the soft skin of her arms.
“I’m just…stressed,” Elphaba offers, a paltry excuse that is both entirely true and not even close to the entire story. “About finals and the upcoming holidays and stuff. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s fine, Elphaba, really.”
Except it’s not fine, and normally Elphaba would say that, would make it clear she doesn’t agree with Galinda’s mindset that it’s alright for her to be made to feel bad about something that isn’t her fault. That it’s okay to accept being treated poorly by her own friend. If anyone else had snapped at Galinda like Elphaba just did, she’d have been livid at them. She is livid- at herself.
But Galinda starts moving before Elphaba can force her mouth to open, and the moment passes before she can figure out if she needs to do something to fix it.
***
Spending a night out at the Ozdust never used to be Elphaba’s idea. It’s always been Galinda or Fiyero or one of their friends who suggested they stay out late on a school night. Elphaba is usually just pulled along for the ride because Galinda always invites her and Elphaba can’t bear to say no.
But. With finals around the corner and everyone busy prepping for both that and the Snowball, no one has time to go get drunk and dance anymore. Things have taken a more serious turn at Shiz, and for the first time all semester, Elphaba starts to see the reputation Shiz has as a truly top-class education facility start to shine through. Finals are no joke here at Shiz, and none of the first years wants to be the one to underestimate them.
So it’s entirely understandable that outings and careless nights start to be low on the priority list for other students. Which is really too bad…because Elphaba needs to go. She needs to meet with the Animals as often as possible-- she still has so many questions she wants to ask, so much she can feel she doesn’t know. And she wants to prove to them that she can be trusted, that she is a friend.
The first time she brings up going, she does so under the guise of needing some fresh air to clear her head. “I’m starting to forget what the word ‘drought’ is supposed to look like,” she jokes weakly, and Galinda, thank Lurline, seems to buy it. By the third time she’s the one to ask, though, Galinda is definitely more than a little suspicious. Especially because Elphaba keeps sneaking off.
“Where are you going?” Galinda finally asks, tugging at Elphaba’s arm to stop her from disappearing off the dance floor. It’s just them and two other students tonight-- the only friends who were interested in heading back so soon on yet another school night.
“Just to, um, to get another drink,” Elphaba tries, wincing when both their eyes go to the very much full bottle in her hand. “I…don’t like the flavor of this one.”
Galinda’s brow furrows, a tiny pinch on her forehead that Elphaba has to resist the urge to reach out and poke. “You usually don’t have anything at all,” Galinda says. Which- isn’t entirely true anymore. Elphaba still prefers not to get drunk, but she’s been indulging in a drink or two the last few times they’ve come to the Ozdust.
Something to maybe take the edge off, or to at least help her sleep easier at night. And she thinks it makes the Animals more comfortable if she’s drinking with them, not just sitting there observing.
“Just one isn’t going to do anything,” Elphaba reassures Galinda, impatience starting to crawl under her skin as Galinda eyes her wordlessly but doesn’t release her hold.
Please don’t ask to come with me, Elphaba internally begs, and there’s a flicker that passes over Galinda’s face as she searches Elphaba and eventually- lets go.
“Just…remember we have class in the morning,” Galinda says softly. As though it’s not usually Galinda who gets stumbling drunk every time they come out here, mysterious immunity to hangovers or not.
“I’ll be right back,” Elphaba promises, and the words they both know are a lie taste like ash on her tongue. Her throat swells, and she turns and hustles away before she can choke on her guilt in front of the person she loves.
The number of Animals that appear each night varies, and Elphaba has yet to learn a single name. She knows their faces, though, their bulk and shadow as she slides past the bar and makes for the table in the back. Here, even if she turns her head to the dance floor, she is too far away and with too many people between them to spot the golden edge of Galinda’s hair.
“Green one,” a Hare greets her, nodding as her leg taps a quick beat against the chair. They all know Elphaba’s name, but it rarely gets said. That just seems to be the way of things with the Animals. Elphaba gives a soft greeting as she slides in to sit between a Wolf and an Owl, hands nervously clenched around the glass of her bottle.
Elphaba rarely says much at these little meetings. The Animals keep up a steady stream of casual chatter, no different than any other group of friends. Elphaba does what she knows they want-- she listens, occasionally asking questions for clarification. She absorbs all the information that she can, and she makes sure to keep track of what isn’t said just as much as what is.
In her last few visits, the Animals haven’t really said anything of much importance. They grumble and complain, going off on tangents about how hard it is to care for children when the job market is so slow, but only a few new rumors have surfaced, most of them said quickly and then dismissed before Elphaba can dig deeper.
Elphaba is still trying to figure out her place in the mix. That drive to do more still burns within her. She never wants to feel that awful shame of having stood by and done nothing again. She wants to speak out, she wants to stand up, she wants to make sure that everyone sees and believes what she does-- that the Animals are people and they are just as deserving of respect as anyone.
More than that, she wants to figure out what’s been going on with what Lyra told her all that time ago about the Animals losing their ability to speak. She’s been thinking it over these past couple of weeks, and it sounds like something much bigger is at play than just some societal discord or discrimination. What if there’s something else hurting the Animals? What if they need proper help?
But none of the Animals have brought up anything actionable that she can do to help them. Aside from her first mission to ask around the student body at Shiz, they've mostly just let her be a drinking buddy and listen in on their chats. Elphaba wants to do more. There’s a problem in front of her, and her mind won’t let her rest until she’s picked it apart and done her very best to solve it.
It takes two weeks of visits, two weeks of Galinda watching quietly as Elphaba disappears into the shadows, for Elphaba to finally hear something that has her ears perking up and her magic thrumming under her palms. “Just for one night, hopefully,” a Donkey says, his tone low and slow. “We have a meeting-- it’s already confirmed.”
Elphaba breathes in deep, squashing the emotion out of her voice before she speaks. “You’re going to the Emerald City?”
The Donkey’s ears flick as he nods. “Don’t have much choice. Harvest season should’ve turned things around, but no one is buying. We got word about a month ago that the license for our Marketplace booth has expired, and we already tried Town Hall. They forwarded us to the City.”
Another piece of the problem puzzle.
A stupid, giddy, verging-on-jealousy sort of feeling bubbles up in Elphaba’s gut as she nods calmly. “That’s good, right? You can go right to the source.”
The Donkey’s eyes narrow slightly. “Haven’t you been listenin’? Animals that go to the Emerald City don’t come back.”
Elphaba is almost certain that those rumors aren’t the full story. But the Wolf’s hackles are starting to bristle and the Hare drums an anxious rhythm against her chair. Elphaba knows she has to tread carefully here. She knows that the Animal’s opinion of the Emerald City, of the Wizard, is different than hers. They didn’t grow up pinning all their hopes and dreams on a single person. They don’t see the Wizard as a means of helping them.
“But now you know to be cautious- and you can gather intel on what might have gone wrong on those other trips.”
A research trip. That’s the way to look at it. The studious side of Elphaba’s brain wakes up, the part of her that has always been hungry for knowledge, for learning. There has to be more to these stories than simple license renewals, and the Emerald City is the best place in Oz to try and get some real information on the issue. Elphaba would kill for the chance to go herself.
“I mean-- this is your chance to finally have facts instead of just rumors. You can gather information and report back!”
The Wolf growls low in his throat. “This isn’t a game, girl. Our lives are at stake here.”
“I- I know but--”
“It’s not that simple, Elphaba.” The use of her actual name pulls her up short. Her eyes meet those of the Owl, deep and wise. “It isn’t just rumor we’ve been talking about. These are real stories from real Animals who are in real trouble. The City has never been kind to us, and the things we’ve heard ‘reported’ back to us have only gotten worse in the last few years.”
“Don’t you see?” the Hare whispers, nervous and fast. “New licenses and trips to the city that you never return from. It’s all on purpose! They’re coming for us! That’s why they don’t want us to talk. They- they see us as animals.”
Everyone there can hear the difference in that last word. Elphaba feels something cold slither down her spine. The Animals have been living alongside humans for as long as anyone can remember. She knew things were getting bad, but this? An intentional plot to drive the Animals out? To silence them?
“That…can’t possibly--”
“It is,” the Wolf cuts off. He shakes his head, teeth flashing as he grimaces. “Animals are losing their voices. They’re disappearing. They’re being fired from jobs and kicked out of housing and denied customers and service. We’re told there are new laws being passed. What does that sound like to you? Who has the power to do such a thing?”
Elphaba swallows hard, her mind reeling. This suddenly seems so much bigger than she’d imagined. So much darker. This is the first time in weeks the Animals have engaged in more than grumbled, vague complaints or personal venting. This is the first time in weeks she’s been able to press the issue that stuck with her the first time.
Is someone responsible for this?
Elphaba, her heart pounding in her chest and her magic running cold instead of its usual quick-tempered heat, feels suddenly sick to her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. She’d been so busy the past couple of weeks that she’d let that part slip from her mind. Because it-- it hurt to see how much it made sense.
The Owl sighs. “We understand that it’s hard for you to hear, Elphaba. But this is a reality that has been on the horizon since before you were born. A slow and steady shift in society that has started to pick up speed. This isn’t just a conspiracy theory or unwarranted concern. This is real. This is happening.”
The Owl hops up onto the table and leans in close enough that Elphaba has to steel herself not to look away from that piercing golden gaze. “The question is-- are you still willing to help us do something about it?”
Elphaba’s lungs spasm and catch, her breath freezing. This is what she’d been hoping for, isn’t it? A chance for action, for trust. The ability to do something and to help others. She looks around at the Animals at the table and realizes this isn’t just some group of commiserating friends. These are the seeds of resistance-- a shared drive and anger against a common foe.
Against…the Wizard.
Is Elphaba willing to help them with that? Unbidden, Elphaba’s gaze turns towards the dance floor. She has a feeling she’s about to get in way over her head.
“Yes.”