Chapter Text
The water glistened under the afternoon sun, the slow-moving river reflecting Shiz University’s stately silhouette in its depths. Boats glided toward the dock, their bows cutting the water with elegant precision. Onboard, first-year students craned their necks to get a better look at their new home. Laughter and nervous chatter filled the air, mingling with the squawk of gulls and the rhythmic slap of waves against wood.
Elphaba Thropp stood at the prow of the largest boat, her black braids catching the light. Her dark coat, tailored to perfection, had accents of shimmering greens and blues that seemed to shift and dance as the sunlight hit her. Her polished hands rested lightly on the railing, and she focused intently on the droplets of water she was magically lifting into the air. They shimmered like tiny diamonds, but each time she tried to shape them into a figure, they splashed apart. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let the water fall.
Behind her, her father, Governor Thropp of Munchkinland approached, his cane tapping softly against the wooden deck. He carried himself with the dignified air of a man who had spent a lifetime in politics, but his eyes were soft and glistening as he looked at his daughters. Beside him, Nessarose sat poised in her wheelchair, her hands delicately folded in her lap. Her silver slippers sparkled brightly, a poignant reminder of their late mother.
“Elphaba,” their father said gently, holding out a small velvet box. “I almost forgot. This—it was your mother’s. She always wanted you to have it.”
Elphaba turned, her sharp green eyes softening as she accepted the box. Her fingers brushed the locket nestled inside, its intricate design of a silver tree entwined with emerald vines catching the light. “Thank you, Dad,” she said quietly.
“You should wear it proudly,” he said, his voice tinged with emotion. “She would have loved to see you here.”
Elphaba smiled, slipping the locket around her neck. The weight of it felt comforting against her skin. “I’ll do my best to make you proud,” she said, her tone lighter now, though her heart clenched with the bittersweet ache of memory.
“And Nessarose,” he continued, turning to his younger daughter with a smile. “Your mother’s slippers suit you beautifully.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Nessarose replied with a nod of approval. Her gaze lingered on her shoes. “They look per-they’re perfect.”
"Just like you, my darling." her father added.
Elphaba raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her sister’s obsession with appearance a familiar refrain.
Their father’s doting gaze lingered. “You’re both remarkable young women. Shiz is lucky to have you, and I expect many letters from you two.”
“We know, Popsicle,” Elphaba said, her tone fond but teasing. “You’ve reminded us many times.”
Nessarose’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Don’t worry about us, Dad. We’ll make you proud.”
The Governor’s farewell was tender but tinged with the awkwardness of a man who expressed love through grand gestures rather than words. His eyes glistened as the sisters disembarked, but he remained on the boat, waving until they were out of sight.
As they stepped onto the bustling dock, the murmurs began. Elphaba’s green skin and commanding presence drew every gaze, admiration glowing in the faces of her new peers.
“That’s her,” one student whispered. “The Thropp heir. And she has magic.”
“She’s incredible,” another said, awe in their voice. “Look at her.”
Elphaba’s lips twitched upward into a poised, dazzling smile, her years of practiced composure holding steady. “Why, thank you,” Elphaba replied smoothly, her voice sweet but edged with a teasing sharpness. “I aim to please.” she said, her voice smooth and confident.
As the crowd began to cluster around her, a familiar voice, Boq’s voice broke through the din.
“Elphaba! Nessa!” he called, waving enthusiastically as he approached. The Munchkin boy strode confidently through the crowd, his curly hair catching the sunlight. His bright grin and effervescent charm parted the gathering like a river.
“It’s good to see you both again,” Boq said, coming to a halt in front of them. “Shiz has no idea how much fun we’re going to have not studying.”
“Boq,” Nessarose said with fond exasperation, “you never change.”
“Why mess with perfection?” he quipped, kneeling briefly to adjust the hem of her skirt where it had snagged on her chair. “Besides, I’ve been counting the days to bask in your reflected glory. It’s an honor, truly.”
Elphaba laughed softly, her earlier tension melting away. “Still as..." she paused with a smirk, "...charming as ever, I see.”
“And you’re still as green,” Boq shot back with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Elphaba.
The three of them moved together like a well-rehearsed performance, their banter light but pointed. To the outside observer, they were untouchable—an elite trio of wealth, grace, and connection.
Further down the dock, another boat pulled up, smaller but just as finely crafted. Galinda Upland stepped off with an air of careful composure. Her immaculately tailored gray Shiz uniform was accented with a pink pin, a subtle but effective customization. Behind her, her luggage was quickly unloaded by the boat staff. She barely spared them a glance, her thoughts already turning inward.
Her parents’ words echoed in her mind: No distractions. No antics. This is your chance to excel. They hadn’t even stepped out of the carriage to see her off, merely leaving her with clipped farewells and a distinct reminder that her worth was tied to success.
Galinda lifted her chin, pushing the weight of their expectations aside. I am going to be perfect, she thought fiercely. They’ll have no choice but to acknowledge it. She adjusted her pin, smoothing her uniform, and stepped onto the path.
The murmurs reached her before she saw the source. A crowd had gathered ahead, all eyes on a young woman surrounded by admirers. Curiosity flared, and Galinda stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the wooden planks. She took in the students she passed—some chatting in tight clusters, others reuniting with friends from home. Almost everyone seemed to already belong. A knot tightened in her stomach as she realized she had no one waiting for her here.
She shook off the thought and kept moving, her gaze sweeping over the groups. Her pink animal paw pin gleamed against her uniform, a small but carefully chosen touch to make her stand out. But no one seemed to notice as she walked by. The loneliness she had buried deep since childhood began to stir.
She pushed her way closer to the crowd, too lost in her thoughts to notice the sharp elbows and muttered complaints she left in her wake. Without realizing it, she shoved through a cluster of students and stumbled into the invisible bubble around the girl and her two friends. The moment she stepped inside, the energy shifted. The air seemed to grow heavier, and all eyes turned to her as though she had crossed some forbidden threshold.
"Does she know Elphaba?" Galinda heard a student whisper.
Suddenly, Galinda felt the weight of their stares, like she had become prey. When the object of the crowd's affection turned with a graceful flip of her hair, Galinda's breath caught. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“You’re… green!” she blurted, louder than intended.
The crowd stilled, their attention shifting. Elphaba turned slowly, her expression unreadable before it shifted into a wry smile. “Astute observation. I’ll give you a moment to gather your thoughts for a follow-up.”
Galinda’s cheeks flushed, but she quickly rallied. “I just meant… it’s unique. You must hear that all the time.”
“Oh, constantly,” Elphaba replied, her voice light but edged with a teasing sharpness. “It’s truly a wonder I don’t keep a tally.”
The chuckles from the crowd stung more than Galinda expected, but she forced a dazzling smile. “Well, someone should keep you humble. I’ll volunteer.”
“Noted,” Elphaba said, inclining her head slightly. “It’ll be interesting to see how long you last.”
Galinda’s lips curved tighter, her forced cheer battling with the heat rising in her cheeks. “Don’t worry about me,” she said brightly, with the kind of sweetness that could cut glass. “I’m more than up to the task.”
Elphaba’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, the smile on her face never faltering. “Oh, I’m not worried. I’m sure you’ll give it your all. Though I’d imagine this is a first for you—being the center of attention.”
A ripple of laughter coursed through the crowd, sharper this time, and Galinda’s dazzling facade flickered for a heartbeat. “Funny,” she replied with a tilt of her head. “I was about to say the same thing to you.”
The rivalry sparked in that moment, the crowd watching with bated breath as Galinda stepped back, her smile remaining fixed even as her stomach churned. And without even realizing it, a sinking feeling crept into Galinda’s chest. She hated the way everyone’s eyes had turned to her, she hated even more that she had tangled with someone so admired, so clearly untouchable. A flicker of jealousy ignited within her, though she would never admit it—not even to herself. She would not let this small blip ruin her day. The shame that bubbled in her chest was a familiar ache—a cruel reminder of how she’d always struggled to belong, to matter. She just had to focus on the important part of Shiz: proving herself, excelling, and finally stepping out of the shadows. Not this oddly colored classmate who had somehow become the sun everyone revolved around.
Her thoughts halted as she sat down for the speech they were all required to attend before settling in, a ceremony of sorts.
Madame Morrible herself stepped up to the podium, her elegant robes flowing as she exuded charisma. Her sharp eyes swept over the gathered students as she began.
"Welcome, dear students, and congratulotions on being accepted to Shiz," she said, her tone equal parts grandiose and commanding. "Whether you’ll be studying Law, Logic, or Linguification, we have nothing but the highest hopes for you. For some of you, perhaps even greatness lies ahead."
A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd, and Galinda sat up straighter, sure Morrible’s gaze had lingered on her.
Madame Morrible continued, "We are privileged to foster bright young minds, but do not mistake privilege for indulgence. Excellence requires discipline, dedication, and for a chosen few, destiny."
"And speaking of destiny, as your Dean of Sorcery, I will be offering a special seminar for one exceptional student. Someone with true, untapped potential. Miss Thropp," she said, gesturing toward Elphaba. "I believe you will find yourself particularly suited for this role."
The crowd buzzed with murmurs. Elphaba’s expression remained composed, but her green skin seemed to glow brighter. She inclined her head. "Thank you, Madame"
Galinda’s stomach churned with envy as she muttered, "Naturally, it’s her."
The man beside Galinda glanced at her, catching her staring. "Did you say something?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.
Galinda noticed him for the first time, sitting slightly hunched beside her. His ill-fitting Shiz uniform rumpled awkwardly as he shifted in his seat, tousled dark hair falling into his eyes. There was a ruggedness to him—his broad shoulders and muscular frame suggesting strength—but his demeanor was uncertain, as though he were entirely unaware of his own presence.
Galinda startled, her thoughts snapping back to the present. "No," she said curtly, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked him up and down. She noticed the threadbare edges of his cuffs and the faint shadow of stubble along his jawline. "Shouldn’t you be paying attention?"
The boy blinked, then gave a lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Right. Of course."
Galinda turned away, dismissing him without another thought as she refocused her attention on the ceremony. But something about his lingering gaze stayed with her, like an unanswered question left hanging in the air.
Miss Coddle, the head Shizstress, took the podium next, her saccharine smile unwavering. Galinda, scanning the stage, had half-expected to see more Animal professors among the faculty. The few standing stiffly at the far edge of the platform struck her as an oddity. She made a mental note to ask someone about it later. "And now, students, we come to your dormitory designations and room assignments!" She clapped her hands, signaling assistants to unfurl ornate scrolls displaying the lists. Miss Coddle signaled, and five assistants appeared at the sides of the seating, holding ornate poles with scrolls attached to the top. In unison, they pulled a ribbon, and the scrolls unfurled, revealing the room assignments. Excited chatter erupted as students surged forward to find their names.
Galinda hesitated, lingering at the edge before finally stepping closer. Her eyes darted across the scroll, but her name did not appear. No room assignment. Her heart sank as irritation flared. "How?" she whispered, realizing the answer immediately: her parents’ late tuition payment. She tried to mask her frustration, but it crept into her posture.
Miss Coddle, bustling through the crowd, suddenly stopped near Galinda. "Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed. "It seems we’ve had a little mix-up. No roommate listed for you."
Galinda’s forced smile returned. "It’s fine. I like my space."
Miss Coddle wrung her hands. "But we simply don't have any extra rooms! Perhaps someone would be willing to volunteer?"
The crowd was silent until Elphaba, standing nearby, shifted uncomfortably. Miss Coddle clapped her hands together suddenly, her ever-present smile growing brighter. "Ah! Miss Thropp! You have a private suite, do you not? Perfect! We can add Miss Galinda to your room."
Elphaba blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"
Before the situation could escalate further, Madame Morrible stepped forward, her regal demeanor drawing instant silence from the crowd. Her sharp eyes fixed on Elphaba, and a slow, calculating smile spread across her face.
"Miss Thropp," Morrible said, her tone honeyed but commanding. "A moment, if you please."
Elphaba hesitated, glancing briefly at Galinda, who looked torn between frustration and curiosity, before stepping forward. Morrible gestured for Elphaba to follow her a short distance away, out of earshot of the other students.
"You are aware of the potential within you, aren’t you?" Morrible asked, her voice low but brimming with intent.
Elphaba swallowed hard, her composure faltering just slightly. "I suppose," she replied carefully, though the question stirred something fierce inside her. Her magic—wild, untamed, and a source of constant scrutiny—was always a point of pride, and fear.
Morrible’s smile widened. "Good. That confidence will serve you well. My seminar isn’t for dabblers. It’s for those who can truly reshape the future of Oz."
Elphaba’s breath caught. "And... the Wizard?" she asked, her voice soft but trembling with hope. "Will he know about me?"
Morrible tilted her head, her expression inscrutable. "The Wizard is always watching, my dear. Excellence never escapes his notice. Continue to impress me, and you might find yourself in his favor."
The words struck Elphaba deeply, the promise of ultimate acceptance setting her heart racing. "I won’t disappoint you," she said, her voice steadier now.
"See that you don’t," Morrible replied, her gaze piercing. She gestured back toward the crowd. "Now, to your room."
Elphaba turned to rejoin Miss Coddle and the rest of the students, Morrible’s words echoing in her mind. Popularity was one thing; to be noticed by the Wizard was something else entirely. A true chance to belong.
Galinda crossed her arms, glaring at Elphaba as the crowd began to disperse. This was not how her first day was supposed to go. "Great," she muttered bitterly. "Looks like I have a roommate now."
Elphaba stopped just in front of her, a plastered on smile curving her lips. "Well, I'm sure we can make this arrangement work amazingly for the both of us."
Galinda bit back a retort. She needed to focus, not antagonize the single most popular student in Shiz. She nodded stiffly.
Elphaba smirked. "After you, then."
And without another word, they left the crowd behind, their futures linked together whether they liked it or not.
Boq stood before the scroll listing dorm assignments, his finger trailing down the names as he muttered to himself. "Boq Woodsman… Boq Woodsman… Ah, there I am… with… Fiyero Tigelaar!"
Boq cocked an eyebrow slightly, then glanced over his shoulder at Nessarose, who had paused nearby to adjust the angle of her wheelchair. "Looks like I’m rooming with some Tigelaar guy. Doesn't sound Munchkin to me. Maybe he’s got stories about exploring ancient ruins, fighting monsters, or—I don’t know—tending goats in a far-off village."
Nessarose barely spared him a glance, her delicate hands smoothing the fabric of her skirt. "If you try, I’m sure you’ll get along famously," she said, her voice light and laced with her signature politeness, though her gaze roamed the crowd with careful scrutiny.
Boq placed a hand over his heart as if mortally wounded, a dramatic sigh escaping him. "Nessa, how could you doubt me? I’m a people person! By the end of the week, Tigelaar and I will be staying up all night whispering secrets and singing songs!"
Nessarose’s lips twitched, though her eyes still carried a glint of judgment. "By the end of the week? How modest of you. I thought you’d aim to charm him within the first day."
Boq grinned, leaning closer with an exaggerated whisper. "Well, I don’t want to overwhelm him. Baby steps."
This drew a soft laugh from Nessarose, who shook her head, her silver slippers catching the light as she adjusted her chair. "Just try not to scare him off entirely, Boq. Not everyone thrives under your... unique style."
"Unique?" Boq exclaimed, pretending to be offended. "I prefer ‘irresistibly endearing.’"
Nessarose chuckled, her voice light as air. "Keep telling yourself that," she said, her tone carrying just enough of a bite to leave Boq blinking in mock defeat as she wheeled away gracefully.
He turned back to the scroll, muttering under his breath as he scanned the list again. "Fiyero Tigelaar…" He repeated the name a few times, testing its unfamiliar rhythm. It had an air of mystery, he thought. Maybe this Tigelaar guy would be interesting—if he wasn’t an absolute bore.
Boq cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed across the quad, "Fiyero! Tigelaar! Where are you?"
Heads turned, and a few students nearby stifled laughter. Boq, unfazed by the attention, scanned the crowd eagerly. "Come on! Fiyero! Don’t be shy!" he shouted again, his voice ringing clear over the chatter of the students.
A tall figure leaning awkwardly against a column looked up, startled. His rumpled Shiz uniform hung loosely on his broad frame, the tie half-knotted like an afterthought. His dark hair fell into his face as he pushed off the column and raised a hesitant hand. "Uh, that’s me," he called, his voice uncertain but deep.
Boq grinned, striding over with the confidence of someone who had already decided they’d be best friends. "There you are! You’re a hard man to spot, Tigelaar. I’m Boq Woodsman—your roommate, guide, and personal source of endless fun."
Fiyero blinked at him, his cheeks coloring slightly under the directness of Boq’s grin. "Oh, uh, hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Fiyero," he mumbled, extending a hand that Boq grasped enthusiastically.
"You look like you've never seen a munchkin before, or a school for that matter!" Boq said, eyeing him up and down. "Let me guess… mysterious farm boy sent to Shiz to find himself? Or maybe the quiet loner type who secretly reads poetry when no one’s looking?"
Fiyero flushed deeper, his free hand scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, not quite," he stammered, his voice trembling slightly. His cheeks turned pink as he avoided Boq’s direct gaze. "I… well… I’m actually a... prince… from Vinkus. You…might call it Winkie Country."
Boq blinked, genuinely surprised for a moment, before breaking into a wide grin. "You? A prince? Thrillifying! Where’s the crown? The royal entourage?"
Fiyero gave a sheepish laugh, his hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his jacket. "Yeah, no crown. Just me. My parents didn’t even come to see me off," he admitted, his voice dropping slightly. "They… thought it was better this way. For me to… you know… figure things out on my own."
Boq’s grin softened, though his tone remained playful. "Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me now. Consider me your unofficial entourage. I’m basically destined to be royalty at Shiz… if by royalty, you mean having impeccable taste and knowing all the best places to dance the night away."
Fiyero laughed nervously again, but his smile grew more genuine. "That… that actually sounds kind of nice, you know, if we have time with classes and such..." he said softly, his eyes lingering on Boq’s bright confidence. There was something magnetic about him—a warmth and ease that made Fiyero’s chest tighten, though he couldn’t quite explain why.
Boq raised himself onto his toes and clapped Fiyero on the shoulder, jolting him slightly. "Alright, Tigelaar, let’s go to our dorm and let everyone know our room is the place to be! And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you fit right in. You’ve got charm hiding under all that nervous energy, I can tell."
Fiyero’s face burned, his heart thudding unevenly as he followed Boq toward the dorms. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I… I think I lucked out with my roommate."
Boq turned, walking backward to flash him a wink. "Oh, you absolutely did. Stick with me, Tigelaar. I’m an experience, not just a roommate!"
As the students dispersed toward their dormitories, Madame Morrible lingered at the edge of the quad, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for her new protégé. Her lips curved into a knowing smile, as though the pieces of some intricate puzzle were falling perfectly into place. "Yes," she murmured under her breath as she whisked some clouds away from the quad. "It is going to be a great year."