Different by fabala_belle
Title: Different
Rating: PG-13. Sex is discussed, so, if that bothers you... but who am I kidding? You're all going to yell at me for not being more explicit.
Pairing: Gelphie
Summary: Bookverse. Elphaba and Glinda are both in Munchkinland for Nessa's funeral, and Elphaba finds herself unable to sleep after they have their fight over the shoes.
Disclaimer: They're Gregory Maguire's, of course. Although that part of the book would have been much improved had they taken that little spat of theirs into the bedroom. Just saying.
Why was the room so hot?
Elphaba threw the blankets off, glaring up at the ceiling. Had Munchkinland always been this warm at night? No, she remembered cool nights spent by a fire, her mother passed out in a drugged haze and her father pouring over his prayer books. Tonight, however, the room felt like it was blazing, and she climbed out of bed, heading for the door.
The hallways were empty, and her bare feet echoed as she stormed in a randomly chosen direction… Where was anything in this building, Nessa’s home? And where was she going, anyway?
Where was Glinda?
She stopped, taking in a breath and gritting her teeth. No. She wasn’t about to go search for Glinda, to forgive her for whatever it was they had fought about… What good would that do? Glinda had given away those shoes. Glinda. The only person who knew how desperately Elphaba wanted them.
She kept moving, praying to no one in particular that she wouldn’t come across her old roommate… and, despite herself, hoping that the blonde would round the corner and beg for her forgiveness.
“Is that you, Elphaba?”
She started at the voice, but it wasn’t Glinda’s. No, it was a man’s voice, and familiar. “Yes, Father.”
“I’d recognize that stomping anywhere.” He smiled, reaching blindly in her direction. Elphaba stepped forward, taking his hand and offering a smile in return that he’d never see. “Although you could be quite silent when you wanted to… You were quite the troublemaker when you put your mind to it.”
Elphaba squeezed his hand, coming to stand just beside his chair. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Me, neither.
“I… I struggle, Elphaba. I’ve lost so much.”
Me, too. Elphaba shut her eyes, willing that name to stay out of her head. It was too late, though, and she was suddenly thankful for her father’s blindness… At least he wouldn’t see the tears that she immediately wiped away. “Have you…” She paused for a minute, inhaling to prevent her voice from wavering. “Have you ever felt betrayed?”
“Betrayed?” Her father chuckled, patting her hand. “Clearly you don’t remember your mother quite as well as I do.”
Elphaba didn’t allow herself to laugh. “Why didn’t you leave her, then?”
“I loved her.” He smiled, turning his face up towards her, his vacant eyes almost seeming to be studying her through their blindness. Not studying her face, either… Studying her very soul, as if she even had one. “Sometimes, Elphaba, you need to forgive those who you truly love, no matter what they’ve done to you.”
Was Glinda worth forgiving? Elphaba hadn’t seen her in years… and they’d been friends for such a fleeting time… But they’d been friends, and Elphaba had loved her once.
“You’re a stubborn one,” her father said softly, “but don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“I should go,” Elphaba replied quickly, squeezing his hand one last time. “Thank you.”
Her father merely nodded, letting her go and facing forward to stare blankly at the wall. “Goodnight, Elphaba.”
“Goodbye, Father.” She continued down the hall, this time conscious of the volume of her footsteps. They were softer now… and then accompanied by another set of footsteps. These were louder, with the clattering of heels, and Elphaba suddenly pictured a flurry of lace and silk, and a voice almost as familiar as her own. It’s not funny, Elphie. Have you seen my earrings?
It was tempting to turn and run… but her father’s words still resounded in her head. Anyway, Elphaba couldn’t seem to pry her feet from the floor, whether in retreat or to keep moving.
The footsteps came to a halt as soon as Glinda rounded the corner, the blonde pausing as soon as Elphaba came into view. It was then and only then that Elphaba found herself capable of moving… but she didn’t want to retreat anymore, not when she saw the sadness on Glinda’s face.
The blonde was buried in a pale pink robe, looking far more like the girl Elphaba had known once than the overdressed creature in the garden that day. Now, with her hair pulled back in a messy and simple bun, with her face clean of makeup and her body released from hoop skirts and corsets, she was real. As Elphaba drew close, she could see the faint lines in Glinda’s skin, emphasizing how very much time had passed since they’d kissed goodbye...
As did the pain in Glinda’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fingering the sash of her robe and avoiding Elphaba’s eyes. “I never should have…”
Elphaba couldn’t help herself from reaching out… There was no question about it anymore. Her father had been right, even if he hadn’t known who he was talking about. “Stop,” she said, a little more harshly than she’d intended, and Glinda finally looked her in the eyes again, startled and maybe even a little afraid. Elphaba withdrew her hand quickly. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not. I’ve been thinking about it, Elphie, and I had no right to give those shoes away.”
“Glinda.” She reached out again, this time allowing her fingers to brush the blonde’s cheek. “Shut up. I’m not mad at you.”
Glinda just raised an eyebrow. “But you said…”
“What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?” Again, too harsh. The green woman frowned, her hand dangling awkwardly in the air as Glinda took a wary step back. She’d forgotten how to be gentle, it seemed. How many years had it been since she’d loved someone? She was far too accustomed to being the Witch, it seemed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I did,” Elphaba conceded. She also wasn’t used to dealing with Glinda anymore. What would she have said back at Shiz? Probably something witty, something that would have Glinda smiling and not so close to tears. “It’s just… They’re only shoes, Glinda.”
“Not to you.”
“True. They’re horrendously gaudy shoes that I’d never be caught dead in, least of all now that some little girl has been sweating in them.”
There it was. Elphaba’s wit was hardly what it had been, but Glinda was smiling just enough to reassure her. “Elphie,” she said, her voice scarcely audible.
“They’re certainly not worth losing you again.”
The smile was gone, and Elphaba cringed. “You never lost me. You left me.”
“It seems that it’s me, then, who should be saying I’m sorry. Not you.”
Glinda nodded gravely as if giving the matter of forgiveness a good deal of consideration. “How are you sorry? Are you just sorry that I’ve suffered… or are you sorry that you made that choice?”
Elphaba bit her lip against the surge of memories, nearly drawing blood. “I’m sorry on both counts.”
Glinda nodded again, but the corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Come here, you.” Without waiting another moment, she stepped forward, rising up on her toes to kiss Elphaba roughly… Had she forgotten how to be gentle with someone, too? Or was kissing Elphaba’s breath away a new skill she’d learned? The way she blushed when she pulled away was only more confusing, as was the way she whispered, “It’s been so long.”
“Since?”
“Since I’ve kissed anyone.” Seeing Elphaba’s wide eyes, she offered a half-smile. “Do remind me to introduce you to Sir Chuffrey tomorrow.”
“Well, if you recommend him so highly…” Elphaba wrapped her arms around Glinda’s waist, which seemed smaller than she remembered. Perhaps Glinda was thinner… or maybe Elphaba had just spent too long in Fiyero’s embrace. She shuddered at the name, and Glinda pressed a hand softly to the side of her face.
There was silence, a million questions hanging in the air, yet Glinda knew enough to leave them unasked. When she finally spoke, it was a question, but certainly not anything Elphaba had expected. “Do you think we’re closer to your room or mine?”
“Yours,” Elphaba answered automatically - not that she had any idea where they were, but the thought of passing her father, who seemed aware of so much even without the use of his eyes…
“I’ve missed you,” Glinda declared before pivoting with a soft click of shoes against the floor. “Follow me.”
Elphaba couldn’t dream of doing anything else, following the blonde so closely that they collided when Glinda came to an abrupt stop at her door. “Is Chuffrey…”
“Across the hall, and a deep sleeper. Come.”
Elphaba would later realize that they’d never been quite so awkward around each other before… Even their first time had been smoother, gentler, back in those days when they’d known each other so well that each could anticipate the other’s every movement. They were different now, out of practice and different. There was a sadness in Glinda’s eyes - and in Elphaba’s own eyes, she was sure - that couldn’t seem to go away, not even in the throes of passion. Their bodies no longer fit together in quite the same way, they no longer remembered exactly what the other needed… but it was something, at least. And it was Glinda.
They’d never see each other again, with the exception of the next morning. Their eyes met as Glinda headed to breakfast on Chuffrey’s arm and Elphaba, broom in hand, set off to find those shoes. She couldn’t give up on them, Glinda’s fault or not.
But Glinda smiled, her cheeks coloring a bit beneath a thick layer of makeup, and Elphaba smiled back.
Rating: PG-13. Sex is discussed, so, if that bothers you... but who am I kidding? You're all going to yell at me for not being more explicit.
Pairing: Gelphie
Summary: Bookverse. Elphaba and Glinda are both in Munchkinland for Nessa's funeral, and Elphaba finds herself unable to sleep after they have their fight over the shoes.
Disclaimer: They're Gregory Maguire's, of course. Although that part of the book would have been much improved had they taken that little spat of theirs into the bedroom. Just saying.
Why was the room so hot?
Elphaba threw the blankets off, glaring up at the ceiling. Had Munchkinland always been this warm at night? No, she remembered cool nights spent by a fire, her mother passed out in a drugged haze and her father pouring over his prayer books. Tonight, however, the room felt like it was blazing, and she climbed out of bed, heading for the door.
The hallways were empty, and her bare feet echoed as she stormed in a randomly chosen direction… Where was anything in this building, Nessa’s home? And where was she going, anyway?
Where was Glinda?
She stopped, taking in a breath and gritting her teeth. No. She wasn’t about to go search for Glinda, to forgive her for whatever it was they had fought about… What good would that do? Glinda had given away those shoes. Glinda. The only person who knew how desperately Elphaba wanted them.
She kept moving, praying to no one in particular that she wouldn’t come across her old roommate… and, despite herself, hoping that the blonde would round the corner and beg for her forgiveness.
“Is that you, Elphaba?”
She started at the voice, but it wasn’t Glinda’s. No, it was a man’s voice, and familiar. “Yes, Father.”
“I’d recognize that stomping anywhere.” He smiled, reaching blindly in her direction. Elphaba stepped forward, taking his hand and offering a smile in return that he’d never see. “Although you could be quite silent when you wanted to… You were quite the troublemaker when you put your mind to it.”
Elphaba squeezed his hand, coming to stand just beside his chair. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Me, neither.
“I… I struggle, Elphaba. I’ve lost so much.”
Me, too. Elphaba shut her eyes, willing that name to stay out of her head. It was too late, though, and she was suddenly thankful for her father’s blindness… At least he wouldn’t see the tears that she immediately wiped away. “Have you…” She paused for a minute, inhaling to prevent her voice from wavering. “Have you ever felt betrayed?”
“Betrayed?” Her father chuckled, patting her hand. “Clearly you don’t remember your mother quite as well as I do.”
Elphaba didn’t allow herself to laugh. “Why didn’t you leave her, then?”
“I loved her.” He smiled, turning his face up towards her, his vacant eyes almost seeming to be studying her through their blindness. Not studying her face, either… Studying her very soul, as if she even had one. “Sometimes, Elphaba, you need to forgive those who you truly love, no matter what they’ve done to you.”
Was Glinda worth forgiving? Elphaba hadn’t seen her in years… and they’d been friends for such a fleeting time… But they’d been friends, and Elphaba had loved her once.
“You’re a stubborn one,” her father said softly, “but don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“I should go,” Elphaba replied quickly, squeezing his hand one last time. “Thank you.”
Her father merely nodded, letting her go and facing forward to stare blankly at the wall. “Goodnight, Elphaba.”
“Goodbye, Father.” She continued down the hall, this time conscious of the volume of her footsteps. They were softer now… and then accompanied by another set of footsteps. These were louder, with the clattering of heels, and Elphaba suddenly pictured a flurry of lace and silk, and a voice almost as familiar as her own. It’s not funny, Elphie. Have you seen my earrings?
It was tempting to turn and run… but her father’s words still resounded in her head. Anyway, Elphaba couldn’t seem to pry her feet from the floor, whether in retreat or to keep moving.
The footsteps came to a halt as soon as Glinda rounded the corner, the blonde pausing as soon as Elphaba came into view. It was then and only then that Elphaba found herself capable of moving… but she didn’t want to retreat anymore, not when she saw the sadness on Glinda’s face.
The blonde was buried in a pale pink robe, looking far more like the girl Elphaba had known once than the overdressed creature in the garden that day. Now, with her hair pulled back in a messy and simple bun, with her face clean of makeup and her body released from hoop skirts and corsets, she was real. As Elphaba drew close, she could see the faint lines in Glinda’s skin, emphasizing how very much time had passed since they’d kissed goodbye...
As did the pain in Glinda’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fingering the sash of her robe and avoiding Elphaba’s eyes. “I never should have…”
Elphaba couldn’t help herself from reaching out… There was no question about it anymore. Her father had been right, even if he hadn’t known who he was talking about. “Stop,” she said, a little more harshly than she’d intended, and Glinda finally looked her in the eyes again, startled and maybe even a little afraid. Elphaba withdrew her hand quickly. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not. I’ve been thinking about it, Elphie, and I had no right to give those shoes away.”
“Glinda.” She reached out again, this time allowing her fingers to brush the blonde’s cheek. “Shut up. I’m not mad at you.”
Glinda just raised an eyebrow. “But you said…”
“What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?” Again, too harsh. The green woman frowned, her hand dangling awkwardly in the air as Glinda took a wary step back. She’d forgotten how to be gentle, it seemed. How many years had it been since she’d loved someone? She was far too accustomed to being the Witch, it seemed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I did,” Elphaba conceded. She also wasn’t used to dealing with Glinda anymore. What would she have said back at Shiz? Probably something witty, something that would have Glinda smiling and not so close to tears. “It’s just… They’re only shoes, Glinda.”
“Not to you.”
“True. They’re horrendously gaudy shoes that I’d never be caught dead in, least of all now that some little girl has been sweating in them.”
There it was. Elphaba’s wit was hardly what it had been, but Glinda was smiling just enough to reassure her. “Elphie,” she said, her voice scarcely audible.
“They’re certainly not worth losing you again.”
The smile was gone, and Elphaba cringed. “You never lost me. You left me.”
“It seems that it’s me, then, who should be saying I’m sorry. Not you.”
Glinda nodded gravely as if giving the matter of forgiveness a good deal of consideration. “How are you sorry? Are you just sorry that I’ve suffered… or are you sorry that you made that choice?”
Elphaba bit her lip against the surge of memories, nearly drawing blood. “I’m sorry on both counts.”
Glinda nodded again, but the corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Come here, you.” Without waiting another moment, she stepped forward, rising up on her toes to kiss Elphaba roughly… Had she forgotten how to be gentle with someone, too? Or was kissing Elphaba’s breath away a new skill she’d learned? The way she blushed when she pulled away was only more confusing, as was the way she whispered, “It’s been so long.”
“Since?”
“Since I’ve kissed anyone.” Seeing Elphaba’s wide eyes, she offered a half-smile. “Do remind me to introduce you to Sir Chuffrey tomorrow.”
“Well, if you recommend him so highly…” Elphaba wrapped her arms around Glinda’s waist, which seemed smaller than she remembered. Perhaps Glinda was thinner… or maybe Elphaba had just spent too long in Fiyero’s embrace. She shuddered at the name, and Glinda pressed a hand softly to the side of her face.
There was silence, a million questions hanging in the air, yet Glinda knew enough to leave them unasked. When she finally spoke, it was a question, but certainly not anything Elphaba had expected. “Do you think we’re closer to your room or mine?”
“Yours,” Elphaba answered automatically - not that she had any idea where they were, but the thought of passing her father, who seemed aware of so much even without the use of his eyes…
“I’ve missed you,” Glinda declared before pivoting with a soft click of shoes against the floor. “Follow me.”
Elphaba couldn’t dream of doing anything else, following the blonde so closely that they collided when Glinda came to an abrupt stop at her door. “Is Chuffrey…”
“Across the hall, and a deep sleeper. Come.”
Elphaba would later realize that they’d never been quite so awkward around each other before… Even their first time had been smoother, gentler, back in those days when they’d known each other so well that each could anticipate the other’s every movement. They were different now, out of practice and different. There was a sadness in Glinda’s eyes - and in Elphaba’s own eyes, she was sure - that couldn’t seem to go away, not even in the throes of passion. Their bodies no longer fit together in quite the same way, they no longer remembered exactly what the other needed… but it was something, at least. And it was Glinda.
They’d never see each other again, with the exception of the next morning. Their eyes met as Glinda headed to breakfast on Chuffrey’s arm and Elphaba, broom in hand, set off to find those shoes. She couldn’t give up on them, Glinda’s fault or not.
But Glinda smiled, her cheeks coloring a bit beneath a thick layer of makeup, and Elphaba smiled back.