Chapter Text
Glinda never thought the day would come for her to choose a suitor.
She can’t imagine the look on her younger self’s face if she was ever told the news.
She never thought she’d have to go through it all again, especially without Fiyero by her side.
It was inevitable, and even when she married the then-Prince, she knew that one day growing conflict would likely call to him. She just never knew that meant that one day there’d be strangers in her home, desperate for her hand in marriage.
She looks out into the sunset, fingers running mindlessly against the bench she’s sitting on as she ponders this. She wonders if Fiyero is looking at the same sun as she is right now, if he’s thinking about her. She doesn’t let the sudden thought of him being too dead to see it cross her mind for longer than a second.
She inhales deeply, smelling the familiar scent of the flowers that Fiyero had planted for her many years ago. If he were here right now, she knows he probably would have grabbed her by the hand, and went off running into the nearby fields, leaving behind all their duties and importance for a short while. Yet, after only an hour or so of reckless abandon, someone would always come to find them, reminding the two of them exactly who they are, and exactly what they’re supposed to do. That is, of course, why he had to leave. The war needed him. The King couldn’t remain dancing in fields for the rest of his life.
The suitors arrived slowly over the years of Fiyero’s absence, each day he was missing meant the higher the chance that he would never be returning home. Initially, Glinda was pleasant. She smiled and nodded when they recited their poems to her, she graciously accepted their gifts of gold and jewels, but she kept her emotions and affection far out of reach. Not one of them made her heart race, not one of them remained in her thoughts when she turned her back, there was not one man who had ever made her feel that way. Well, besides Fiyero she supposed.
However, it did not take long for her to regret her agreeableness. It quickly became evident that the suitors were taking her politeness as interest, rather than the typical warmth of a Queen to her people. And they simply…never left.
Glinda started to get more frustrated, as her patience wore down. She refused gifts, paid no attention to poetry, spoke coldly, and yet it was almost as if in doing so, she had turned into a game for them all. Her home went from being a place of peace, to being filled with loud, grating laughter. It also was not hard to overhear the stranger’s discussions about what they’d do when they made it to the throne…and what they’d do as her husband.
Even as she looks out now, she can see the large, uncaring footprints left all throughout her garden, not one place remained safe for her to breathe, besides her chambers. She is trapped.
Her Royal Advisors keep telling her to pick a suitor. The land needs a King , they say. They already have a King , Glinda wants to argue, but she holds her tongue. She kept making excuses, saying that she needs to complete certain tasks first, that she won’t choose to be married in the winter, and so on, but deep down she always knew that couldn’t last forever.
It was two days ago that one of her most important advisors approached her, Madame Morrible. Morrible was never kind to Glinda, never told her the things she wanted to hear, but always the things she believed Glinda needed to.
Morrible was always serious, but that day, there was a sense of finality that Glinda could sense immediately. They both knew it was time.
“A kingdom needs its King, your Majesty. You have waited long enough,”
Glinda had swallowed harshly, trying not to show any expression that she was feeling on her face. She wouldn’t let anyone see the terror and sadness she had long been feeling. Glinda simply nodded, staring over her advisor’s shoulder, looking at nothingness. That night, she couldn’t sleep, but by morning, she’d come to a solution.
“I’ve made my decision,” she declared, her voice coming out higher than she’d expected.
Madame Morrible froze, having only just entered Glinda’s chambers for the first time that day. She quickly shook herself out of it, however, and raised an eyebrow.
“You have decided on a husband?”
Glinda carefully exhaled air from her nose, pausing for a moment.
“I have decided on how I am going to select a husband,”
She glanced quickly at Morrible, but looked away just as fast when she saw the way the older woman’s face shifted to an expression closer to agitation.
“And how is that?”
Glinda shifted in her chair, making eye contact with herself in the mirror in front of her, watching herself as her chest carefully raised and fell.
“A challenge,” Glinda stated. She heard Morrible clear her throat, before she spoke again.
“Glinda-,” she started, but she quickly checked herself, “your majesty, this is not a child’s game. The people need a King,”
“And they shall have one,” Glinda immediately responded, her voice sounding much steadier than she felt. “But a King cannot just be handsome, and pleasant to his wife. A king cannot show up at my door and expect me to select him from his gifts. If the people need a king so desperately, then I’m sure they can wait so that I make it worth their while. Those who fail at the challenge will have no place by my side. Whoever succeeds at the challenge… will have proven himself, and will become King,”
“And your husband,” Morrible finishes for her.
Glinda couldn’t get herself to say those words, so she just nodded.
“And what may I ask, will this challenge be?”
Glinda paused. She had thought about it in her sleepless night, and after many hours of staring at her ceiling, she had come to her conclusion.
“It’s quite simple, really. Whoever can string my husband’s old bow, and then shoot through… twenty axes cleanly, will be the new king,”
Morrible immediately scoffed.
“So it’s impossible,”
“Of course not, Fiyero could do it,”
“Your husband could not shoot through 20 axes,”
Glinda’s jaw dropped in offence, as she spun around in her seat, “of course he could,”
“Eight axes,” Morrible rebutted.
“Eight?!” Glinda exclaimed, “fifteen,”
“Ten axes,”
“ Fifteen axes, ”
Morrible rolled her eyes, “twelve axes. That’s final.”
Glinda furrowed her eyebrows, looking the women up and down, before sighing.
“Twelve axes. But for the record, Fiyero could shoot through twenty axes,”
Morrible didn’t respond, but Glinda could see a glint of amusement at the idea appearing in her expression, but neither of them commented on it.
Morrible studied Glinda, considering her options, before she finally gave a slow nod.
“Very well, I will inform the suitors of your decision. But do not think this is delaying the inevitable, Glinda. The suitor’s patience is finite, as is mine,”
Glinda paused. Morrible only used her real name without correcting herself because she knew that it made Glinda feel smaller. Glinda inhaled deeply, and smiled her classic royal smile.
“I will marry the man who succeeds, Madame Advisor,”
Morrible hesitated, both of them understanding the reminder of the real balance of power in the room. Then, she straightened her posture and nodded once more.
“We will prepare your challenge for tomorrow evening. May the best candidate win,”
Glinda remained perfectly still and perfectly proper as she watched her advisor exit her chamber, but as soon as she heard the heavy door finally close, she let herself slump into her chair, hands rubbing anxiously over her face. It wasn’t the perfect plan. It would just make Morrible more frustrated with her when no one succeeded, because obviously no one would be able to succeed. Glinda had seen men in the past try to string Fiyero’s bow, to no avail. But of course, there was still the chance, the miniscule terrifying chance that someone with Fiyero’s skills would be able to do so. The thought made her feel nauseous, but she supposed if there was a singular person in this world besides Fiyero to do so, then she’d just have to keep her word. Or maybe jump out of a castle window. Both very possible options.
Now, sitting on the bench, she watches as the sun dips just beneath the horizon. She stares at it for a moment longer, exhaling shakily as her fingers clench around the concrete bench. Morrible had told the suitors immediately, giving them a day and a half to prepare. But now it was time. It was finally time for the challenge.
The grand hall is filled to the brim with people. If Glinda were anyone else, she’d be terrified that she’d be crushed by the masses. Fortunately for her, surrounded by her guards, she makes her way to sit on the throne at the front of the room, trying to balance her breathing and avoid eye contact with anyone in particular. One part of the room is clear, however, where a row of twelve axes are lined with such precision, and the sinking feeling of this all somehow being real returns to the Queen. As she sits down, she lets her gaze fall across the room, seeing men of all shapes and sizes, all levels of confidence, and all prepared to make their way onto the empty throne beside her.
Morrible suddenly appears by her side, her expression unreadable as she spares a glance at Glinda in her throne. She gives a quick and simply curtsy, before nodding to one of Glinda’s guards, hovering by her side. The guard nods, his posture straightening as he turns to the dozens of men.
“Silence!” He yells, and the previously bustling room quickly falls into an unexpectedly easy silence, all of their attention turning to focus on Glinda herself. Glinda is at her best in front of an audience. It’s like a chaotic and yet perfected performance that she has mastered over her life. But here? Now? All the eyes on her immediately makes Glinda want to run away. It’s almost as if she can sense the desire and the…hunger in every individual gaze. It makes her feel sick. But then, she sees in the corner of her eye, Madame Morrible step forward, and Glinda puts all of her thoughts toward focusing on her words.
“Gentleman!” She calls out, her voice steady and carrying effortlessly, “the queen has set forth her challenge. A challenge of wit, of skill, of strength, and worth. You must string the old King’s bow, and then shoot through all twelve axes. Whoever does so, will be known as our new King, and sit on this very throne,” she explains, gesturing to Fiyero’s throne, “I wish you all good fortune,”
Glinda leans back in her throne, her nails digging into the arm rests and her jaw tight. Still, she does her best to feign perfection, and no one seems to blink an eye.
The first suitor who rises to the challenge is a huge man, in every possible way. His arms are like logs, and his head is visible above the dozens of others around him. He smirks smugly as he wanders casually and confidently up to Fiyero’s bow, as the others in the crowd all try to get a better look. Grabbing the bow, the man begins to pull, but nothing happens. His movements stutter, as he goes again, his face contorting with the energy he’s using, as the bow barely shifts into a bend. After a few more attempts, the man groans and throws the bow aggressively onto the ground and storms away, leaving behind a room of laughing suitors. Glinda exhales, fingers relaxing on the arms of the chair as she tries her hardest not to smile at the sight. One down.
The pattern continues. Each man that walks up to the bow does it pretty much the same, expecting their strength to work better than the previous suitors. After that doesn’t work, they try something different, to no avail. No one even seemed to get close. In most scenarios, Glinda would find this devastatingly boring, but all she sees now is the humour in it all. She ignores the way her advisor begins to glance at her when the most talented and powerful of men fail. She can deal with Morrible another day, as long as all of these men leave her home .
Finally, once there seemed to be no one else stepping up to attempt the challenge, whether it be because of fatigue, frustration, or that it was simply very late in the night at this point, Glinda gracefully stood from her throne.
“Thank you all for trying your hardest, I truly appreciate the time and effort you have displayed tonight. It is unfortunate that we have no answer to our question of King, but alas, it seems there is no one here fit to rule as my… late husband did. I wish you all well on your-,”
“Your majesty, if I may,” a voice suddenly cut through, and Glinda’s head immediately cut to Madame Morrible, standing by her side now. Glinda froze, staring at her, her mouth slightly open.
“Yes, Advisor?” Glinda asked, keeping her voice steady.
Morrible cleared her throat, turning to direct her next words to the hall, “while tonight has been underwhelming. Dare I say that it would be premature to declare the challenge over? We could spread the word of the challenge to nearby cities, and kingdoms. We cannot risk the chance of lacking a king for any more years, can we?”
Glinda instinctively found herself running her hands down her dress anxiously.
“I don’t know what you are suggesting, Madame,”
“Well, your Majesty, I am suggesting that we reconvene every evening this week for the challenge to ensure we are not missing out on a future leader,”
The men in the room all begin to murmur, and Glinda suddenly feels like her knees are about to give out. Instead, she just watches her advisor’s expression, her determination clear.
“Of course, the final decision is yours,” Morrible tells Glinda quietly, but the expression on her face tells a different story. Glinda clenches and unclenches her fist. She knows what Morrible is playing at. She knows that now, Glinda cannot reject the idea. They both see each other for what they truly desire.
Glinda feels like she needs to lie down, but she focuses on her breathing. Inhale, exhale.
“I suppose you are right,” she starts, voice carrying over the murmurs, “the challenge will continue for the next week. I hope to… I hope to see you all there,”
Without another word, and without glancing over at Madame Morrible, Glinda immediately begins to walk out of the hall. She is as graceful as ever, but her steps are slightly faster than usual, desperate to get out of this space. She doesn’t let herself slow until she reaches her chambers, and tells the guard outside to not let anyone inside until morning.
Once the silence falls upon her, Glinda tries to hold her composure. But it doesn’t last long. She barely gets herself out of her dress before she starts tearing up. She can’t help but cry herself to sleep.
--------------------------------
Elphaba never thought the day would come for her to be standing in front of a whole audience of men, staring up at her in complete shock. But here she is, hands trembling a little as she awkwardly stands there. She can barely remember how she even got here.
***
Elphaba Thropp was reading in the local library when she heard the news. She heard her sister before she saw her, calling out her name excitedly. Elphaba looked up from the book she was focused on, just in time for her younger sister to swivel around the corner in her wheelchair.
“Elphaba, you’re never going to guess what I heard,”
Elphaba furrowed her eyebrows, concerned that it was something serious, but before she could ask, Nessa simply told her.
“Nobody succeeded in the Queen’s challenge, and so they’re extending the challenge for an entire week!”
Elphaba sighed, unable to hide the eye roll she couldn’t help but give.
“Oh come on, Elphaba, you love history and we’re living in a historical moment right this second,”
“A historical moment in which some egotistical man with too much time on his hands to become brutish becomes our king…excellent,”
Now it was time for Nessa to roll her eyes.
“Oh hush. The challenge specifically demands someone worthy enough of Queen Glinda to succeed, and as much as I love the late King, it really is time for Glinda to find someone new to care about. Besides, imagine what this could mean for the Kingdom. Maybe the new King will be someone like us, and he’ll want to help people like us,”
Elphaba sighed again, softer this time, but she didn’t respond.
“Do you think we could go watch, tomorrow night? I’ve heard they’re moving the event to the courtyard so that there can be more of an audience for the public,”
“I don’t know Nessa, it’s-,” Elphaba started, but then she looked up and into her sister’s face, the brightness and excitement in it fading at Elphaba’s words. She paused, closing her eyes for a few seconds, before finally nodding. “You’re going to be the death of me,” she teased, and Nessarose smiled, grabbing onto Elphaba’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you, Elphaba. Now I just have to think about what to wear!”
***
The courtyard was buzzing with energy the next evening, suitors all murmuring about their plans or trying to intimidate other competitors, people from the public chattering amongst themselves in excitement. It was the third night of the challenge, and not one person had even come close to simply stringing the bow. Some were already saying that the challenge was a hoax, but others argued that only the worthiest man for King would succeed, as if it was some magical bow that selected who could use it. Elphaba and Glinda remained at the edges, to ensure Nessa’s view wasn’t completely obstructed from the people in front. Nessa was the most enthusiastic Elphaba had ever seen her, and despite her disapproval of the entire event, she couldn’t help but enjoy spending the time with her sister.
“It’s even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined,” Nessa said with an awed sigh.
Elphaba followed Nessa’s gaze, looking around at the decorations and the variations of people that were filling the courtyard, before both of them locked their eyes onto the pedestal with King Fiyero’s bow, resting on it.
“They’re just trying to distract you with pretty decorations and an extravagant event so that we don’t all stop and consider the real problems within our society,”
“Oh come on Elphaba,” Nessarose teased, “this is exciting. Can you at least try to be happy, for me?”
Elphaba looked down at her sister, unable to prevent the fond smile from appearing on her face.
“I suppose I can endure it. For you,”
Nessa beamed, and squeezed her sister's hand twice.
It didn’t take much longer until the courtyard got louder, and Nessa’s eyes widened in amazement. Because exiting out of the castle door, was the Queen herself. The two of them had seen Queen Glinda before, given Nessa’s appreciation for royalty, but this felt different. This felt…final, or something of the sorts. The energy of the courtyard suddenly made the hairs on Elphaba’s arms prick up. The sun had just set beneath the horizon, and Glinda’s dress sparkled beautifully. Elphaba glanced down at her sister, who had her mouth open slightly, “she’s magnificent.”
Elphaba felt the need to respond with something like, she’s a political figure , or she’s richer than we could ever imagine , but she didn’t say anything. She told herself it was for Nessa’s sake, but the sight of the Queen in such light made her cynicism feel weaker than usual.
The Queen made her way to her throne, before sitting down ever so gracefully, and letting her gaze fall over the crowd. She smiled politely, but the expression didn’t really seem to reach her eyes. For a second, Elphaba could have sworn that Glinda and her had made eye contact, but she quickly had to remind herself that everyone in the courtyard also thinks the exact same thing. God, what spell did these people have over them all?
Glinda didn’t speak, instead nodding towards a man in armour to her left, who quickly stood forward and marched his feet onto the hard ground.
“Let the challenge commence!”
As the suitors all came, one by one, making their attempt to string the bow, Elphaba and Nessa whispered back and forth about how in which they’d fail, or on occasion, Nessa would decide this young man will succeed, and purposefully avoid Elphaba’s smirk and pointed eye contact when he did in fact fail miserably. Every now and again, Elphaba would look over to the Queen, who would look completely uninterested for a few minutes until she seemed to remember what was happening, and she’d adjust her pose and flash a quick smile into the crowd.
After a while of watching, however, Elphaba had certainly noticed a pattern.
“They all think strength is the answer, or the ones who don’t are too dumb to see why,”
Nessa looked over to her, eyebrow furrowed, “what do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s a palintonos bow, it can’t just be bent by sheer strength. You know as well as I do that Fiyero wasn’t known for being strong ,”
“He wasn’t known for being intelligent either though, some people even called him the Brainless King,”
Elphaba hummed for a moment, “they wouldn’t send someone brainless to captain an army. Just because he acted foolish and carefree, doesn’t mean anything to who he really is,” she paused, “well, was ,”
The two of them went silent for a moment, focused on watching as a suitor tried to pull so hard that the bow remained unbent, and he fell backwards onto his back. The crowd chuckled as his face flushed red and he quickly ran away from the centre of the courtyard.
“Do you think you could do it?” Nessa asked casually, her focus still on the events unfolding in front of them.
Elphaba laughed, “Absolutely not. Even if I was, I’m not foolish enough to humiliate myself in front of an entire kingdom.”
“Okay, but if you were one of them, how would you do it?”
Elphaba shrugged, even though Nessa wasn’t really looking at her, “You’d want to use your entire body more, I suppose. It’s not about bending it, it’s about simply attaching the string. I think it’d just need some precision and patience, opposed to strength and energy,”
Nessa didn’t respond, but Elphaba noticed that her gaze drifted back to Glinda’s, who had that same bored expression as when Elphaba had previously looked over at her.
“She looks lonely,” Nessa said, softly.
Elphaba furrowed her eyebrows, “I doubt the Queen is lacking company, Nessa,”
This time it was Nessa who hummed, “maybe…but, I feel like everyone around her wants something. These men aren’t lined up because they want to create a bond with her; they want her body, they want the title, the power, and they want the glory. I feel like being around all of those people who only want something from you would be just as isolating as being alone,”
Elphaba didn’t really have anything to say to that, so she remained silent as she considered her sister’s words.
A few minutes later, after watching more and more men fail, and the amount of the night dwindled. The crowd was getting frustrated and seemed bored, but that’s when Nessa suddenly turned to face Elphaba with such speed that it almost made Elphaba jump.
“You should enter,” Nessarose simply stated, smiling brightly.
If Elphaba was drinking something, she would have spit it all over her sister by that absolute surprise.
“Wha- what?!”
“You heard me, you should enter the competition!”
Elphaba glanced around, as if to check she was really in this moment, and not in some ridiculous dream.
“Seriously, Elphaba. You’re the only one who seems to have some sense around here. You’re smart enough to accomplish the challenge, and then you get to have the power that all these men so desperately desire.” Nessarose pauses, her eyes bright with excitement, “think about it, there’s a chance that one day in the next four days some man will succeed, but who’s to say he’s a good person? He might make taxes higher, or- or, he could kill a bunch of people. If you did it, you could make the kingdom the place that you desire, and actually make a difference,”
Elphaba blinked at her sister, her mouth wide open. She attempted to say something, but no words came out.
“Nessa, you’re being ridiculous,” she finally managed to say.
“Why? If you succeed, things are changed for good-,”
“And if I failed?” Elphaba questioned, though she immediately was annoyed at the fact she was even listening to this hypothetical, because this is not going to happen. No way is this ever going to happen!
“Then people might laugh at you for a few seconds, but you’ll be forgotten as soon as the next goon comes up and fails in a much more miserable manner,”
“So what, I just go up there, string a bow, and shoot through twelve axes? And then, marry the Queen ?”
“Yep!”
Elphaba rolled her eyes, “Nessa,”
“Elphaba,”
Elphaba gave a pointed look, and her sister simply laughed, “Marrying the queen isn’t so bad. I mean, I know you can see how beautiful she is,”
Elphaba shook her head, hoping that it somehow gets rid of the quickly appearing blush on her features.
“Yes, except I don’t think people want their king to be a woman ,”
Nessarose shrugged, “I still have some of father’s old clothes,”
Elphaba gaped, “and if they found out I was lying, I’d be… I’d be killed!”
“No you wouldn’t, because you’d be king,” Nessa pauses, “just think about it,”
Elphaba shakes her head once more. No, she wouldn’t be thinking about this absolutely ridiculous, horrific, plan that her sister had somehow come up with in five minutes. No way!
***
Two days later, Elphaba hadn’t thought of anything else. She hated to admit it but the absolutely ridiculous idea was constantly gnawing at her brain, making her run through all the plausible scenarios in which it could work. But it wouldn’t work, because of course it would never work . But what if it did?
It didn’t help that Nessa clearly knew what was going through her sister’s mind, whispering little ideas and benefits as she rolled past.
You could be helping all those innocent people.
You could protect us from another war.
Think of all the books, and all the money you could buy books with!
And isn’t Glinda so pretty?
Okay, those last two were more irrelevant to Elphaba’s decision.
It’s incredibly dangerous, and stupid, and entirely out of character. But if she could do it? If she succeeded at all the bumps in the road, all of her dreams of being able to help the shambling kingdom would be solved. What always seemed so out of reach, she could right now, graze with her fingertips.
“What if I decided to do it?” Elphaba suddenly blurted out, one night at the dinner table.
Nessarose immediately dropped her cutlery, as it clattered onto the plate.
“You’re going to do it!?”
“I never said that!” Elphaba exclaimed, but it was too late, Nessa was glowing.
Elphaba waited for the young woman to calm down, before continuing.
“First of all, I’m not a man-”
“Like I say, father’s old clothes,”
“And if I won? I'd just be dressed and acting as a man my entire life?”
“Well, after a while, once you grew a bond with Glinda, you could tell her your true identity and work it out from there. But even if you say, did have to act like a man, don’t you think that could be a little worth it if you were helping all those people?”
“I suppose,” Elphaba replied, thoughtfully.
“You would have to cut your hair though,”
Elphaba’s eyes widened, “nope! Not doing it,”
“Oh come on, Elphaba. It doesn't have to be everything, you could just have shoulder length hair, and tie it up, or something.”
“It’s too much Nessa, I’m not risking it all,”
Nessa quietened down, but as Elphaba brought her focus back to her own dinner, she could sense her sister watching her over their plates.
“I can sense it, you’re going to do it,” she whispered.
“Enough, Nessa. Eat your meal,”
***
It all was a blur. It feels like the last thing Elphaba can remember is speaking to her sister over dinner. The afterwards. The decision, the loss of some of her hair, the reading about archery, the showing up to the courtyard on the final day of the challenge. It all feels like nothing. She had watched all the suitors before her, her stomach churning with terror as she kept adjusting the awkwardly fitting outfit she dons. She watched Glinda often, who looked- as impossible as it may seem - even more bored than she did the first day Elphaba had watched her, except there was also a new glint of excitement on her face that Elphaba considered, but she didn’t ponder that for too long. Her hands were sweating the entire time, her brain calculating exactly how to string this stupid bow.
If she fails and ultimately cut her hair for nothing, she might just kill Nessa.
She barely acknowledged that she was next, until at one point her feet started to move toward the bow, and from then on, it was just…darkness. Elphaba can’t remember it at all. She can’t remember how the crowd fell silent as she strung the bow, she can’t remember the gasps as she somehow, miraculously shot it through the axes. She can’t remember the expression of shock, and amazement, and terror that was expressed on the Queen’s face when Elphaba won . Because that’s what she did, she just beat the Queen’s challenge. And she can’t remember any of it.
And now, Elphaba stands in front of the crowd, her entire body sweating as all of the eyes stare back at her. She doesn’t even remember walking up here. Was she pulled? She doesn’t know. A woman suddenly appears by her side, looking her up and down once before moving her mouth. Elphaba doesn’t catch what she says.
“Sorry what?”
The woman raises her eyebrows, before repeating her words, “what is your name, boy?”
Elphaba clears her throat, realising that this isn’t a dream, that she’s really here, and yes, she’s pretending to be a man, a man who just won the Queen’s supposedly impossible challenge.
“Uh, it’s Elpharion,” she mutters, glad that her and Nessa had picked a masculine name in advance.
The woman follows suit and clears her throat, grabbing Elphaba by the hand and raising it above both of their heads.
“All bow to your new KIng! King Elpharion!”
No one moves, everyone is still oh so silent.
But then Elphaba sees movement, and her eyes instantly find Nessa’s. She had almost forgotten her sister was here. Her sister who looks so unbearably excited, and proud…and completely and utterly shocked. But Nessa is the first one who moves. Elphaba watches on as her sister bows in her chair, and the others around her seem to notice too, and after a few moments, they all follow.
Elphaba realises she’s holding her breath as suddenly every person in the courtyard is bowing to her. All of the failed suitors, all of the public, all of the Queen’s staff. The only person who isn’t…is Glinda. Glinda who is now standing, just behind Elphaba.
“Elpharion,” Elphaba hears a quiet whisper, and she instinctively turns to face the voice of Glinda. She looks into Glinda’s big brown eyes, unsure of what to do in this scenario.
“Elpharion,” Glinda repeats, just as quietly, as if simply testing out the sounds of the fake voice.
Elphaba doesn’t have anything to say, so she just nods.
Glinda’s gaze lingers, but her expression is completely unreadable. That’s why Elphaba is so surprised when Glinda ever so slowly drops into a slight curtsey.
And it’s at that moment, that Elphaba realises…there’s no turning back now.