Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Wicked novels, musical or franchise.

A/N: First –and probably only- Wicked fic, yay! This is musical-verse, since I'm still fifty pages from finishing the book. Besides, the book is waaaay more depressing. So, despite the fact that it is a great book, and that Gregory Maguire is a genius, I prefer the musical :D

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

By

darkruki008

She was breaking. Five years had passed since that horrible day, the day all of Oz started that hideous chant.

"No one mourns the wicked!"

But one did mourn the wicked. She mourned both the Wicked Witch of the West and the ex-Captain of the Guard, the traitor amongst them. Glinda the Good mourned Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero from the Vinkus.

She hated the newfound hymn, especially since it was stuck in her head, making her cry herself to sleep. She missed them so much. Boy, to think she once yearned all of the glory she had now attained, that she once longed to be known throughout the world of politics, and that now that she had it all she only wished she had followed a different path. True, she had wanted it all, but no this way, not at the cost of her best friend and of the man she had once loved.

"The enemy of all of Oz is dead!"

She knew that, for Oz's sake! They didn't need to remember her. She banged her fist on her desk, letting a little of the frustration she felt out. Still, the chanting continued. She quickly ran through her study past the extravagant carpets and the luxurious bookshelves filled with thick books, all the way to the windows. Faster than fast, she slammed them shut. Brilliant, now it was quiet. Giving a sigh of both relief and satisfaction, she returned to her desk, for she still had some forms to fill. Who was she trying to fool? Right now she wouldn't be able to do anything at all.

She looked at herself in the mirror in front of her. The sight merely made her laugh. She saw herself, Glinda the Good, crying pathetically by herself. Pathetic, that was the word. That's what she had become.

At first, when she had just started ruling it had been hard, sure! But she had been well received by all. However, now it was different. It seemed the people questioned both her judgment and intentions ever since her friendship with Elphaba was revealed. Many accused her of hiding Elphaba. How she wished that was true.

Now they were divided. The minority, she had found out, wanted Glinda to conserve her authority. The rest wanted a new ruler. They already had a candidate in mind. One who had helped Dorothy defeat the Wicked Witch, one who hated Elphaba with all his heart –or what had been a heart once-, one who understood them perfectly: they wanted Boq, the Tin Man. Actually, Glinda thought he was a good choice. He was fair, honest, and well intentioned; despite the fact he hated Elphaba, of course.

But she couldn't just leave. Where would she go? And if she in fact left, would she be alone? A gentle chime brought her back to reality.

"Oh dear." Her curls moved along with her as she shook her head.

In an hour, she would have to give a speech about how happy she was that it was the fifth anniversary of her best friend's death. Again, she would have to put on that fake, perfect smile and that false grin. Only God knew how she managed to pull though the last time. Even thinking about it made her want to cry. The villagers actually made giant figures of Elphaba. The thing is, the either burned them or made them melt. That day was the first she actually considered leaving. But the questions remained. Where to? Alone?

She blankly got a blank piece of paper out of and her wand. With a swift movement and a few magic words, its point became a pen. Elphaba would be proud. With no inspiration whatsoever, she started to write.

"My friends," how hypocrite, they hated her now, "we have gathered here today to commemorate a wonderful occurrence," the death of her best friend, "to celebrate the death of the Wicked Witch of the West!" That's when she'd raise her arms and smile at them. They'd cheer as she died inside. Then Boq would proceed.

Again, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Now she looked angry. Not good. In an hour she had to be cheerful as the rest of them. She stood up and positioned herself in front of it. She had to practice. In the blink of an eye, a smile had spread across her features and her eyes shone with glee. She just stood there staring at herself. She realized that reflection was the living image of all her lies and pretense. She hated that girl in the mirror.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," she blurted out, "which is the lie amongst you and I?" Then silence came. The blond just looked at her reflection, almost expecting it to answer. But it didn't. She lowered her head and gave a sigh.

The chant was louder now, so she could hear it again.

"She's dead!"

"I know!" She yelled. Looking up again, she saw herself. That thing in the mirror, it was her. Those golden curls, those hypocrite eyes, that fake expression, it was a lie. She was a lie. But she deserved it. That was the price she had to pay for, how did Elphie call it? "Grovel in submission to feed her own ambition." To think she could have prevented it all, that she could have saved Elphaba, Fiyero, Nessarose, everyone.

Suddenly, she felt hate. She hated that reflection; she hated being a lie. Before she even realized it, her fist hit the mirror right were her face was being echoed. No sound came out of her mouth as she did so, or even after the impact. Her eyes said it all. No shards of glass hit the floor, only her trails of blood slipped down. She just stood there, horrified by the scene.

Ignoring the pain in her hand, her attention returned to her reflection. Now, thanks to her blow, it was distorted. The cracks on her mirror disentangled her image. Now it fit her perfectly. She was broken inside.

Her bleeding palm touched the mirror, still careful not to cut herself even more. With a singing-like tone, she said, looking straight at her reflection.

"We deserve each other."

Then the tears came, but more freely now. The horrid chant was drowned by her sobs. No tear was in a way caused by her wound. All of them belonged to her mourning. Five long, eternal years had passed since they said goodbye. And not a day went by that she didn't feel regret.

"That's it. I'm leaving." Where? "Anywhere. I can't take it anymore." Somehow the Ozians managed to sing even louder. Sick of it, she yelled. "Silencio!" All sound ceased.

Then something amazing happened before her eyes.

The cracks on the mirror glowed in a gentle green color. By instinct, she immediately removed her hand from it, blood staining the carpet. The mirror now shone completely, blinding Glinda with its green light.

"What's happening?" she frantically asked. Then, a burning sensation overwhelmed her wounded hand. Scared, she screamed. But in a few seconds, the burning ceased along with the glow. She looked down at her hand. Her eyes widened in shock: it was completely healed. "But how?" It was amazing, simply amazing. She flexed her hand too see if it hurt, but no pain came. Now she wanted to look at the mirror. Surely it had been restored also. But what caused her? Had she gone mad? When she looked up, she became sure she had gone mad. She let a tiny "oh" of surprise, though it was nothing compared to the shock she felt inside. Before her stood the mirror, but instead of seeing herself, the reflection showed the living image of Elphaba. She was just the way she remembered her, only a little older, though.

"Elphie, why did you have to go?" The figure just smiled at her. Her black hat was keeping her hair from her eyes; she was even wearing one of her typical dresses. Surely her mind was playing games on her. She was dead, and that's all there was to it. Trembling, her hand reached her forehead. She had to end this before she hurt even more. "Go away," she whispered. Elphaba looked surprised.

"Glinda," she started, but was interrupted. The thing even sounded like Elphaba.

"No! Go away now!" Her eyes shone as even more tears fell. "I can't take it anymore! Do you think I don't feel guilty? You think I don't think of you and Fiyero every single day? Do you think I wanted this?" Even Glinda wasn't sure who she was directing her angry outburst to. Was it to herself? Was it to Elphaba? "That's it. I've gone mad. I'm seeing dead people in my mirror. I see dead people!" Yeah, she was crazy.

"You're not crazy, Glinda," said Elphaba, even chuckling a little bit. "Just listen-"

"No! I need you to go! I-I have a speech to give, I have to look happy-"

"Glinda, come on-"

"Maybe if I kill myself-"

"By Oz, shut up!" her yell immediately ceased Glinda. Elphaba's face wasn't angry, just irritated. "And you said I talked too much."

"Go away, you're dead." Now Glinda only managed to whisper. She was being intimidated by a mirror.

"No I'm not. Who do you think healed your hand?" Glinda remained silent. Was that really Elphie? "I've been hiding ever since that Kansas girl, um, melted me."

"You mean to say, you fooled us all?" she asked, finally recovering her ability to speak. "Are you real?"

"Just as real as you."

Glinda's face immediately lit up. She was alive. Elphie was alive! Quickly, she approached the mirror. Fearing Elphaba's image would disappear, she didn't touch the glass.

"Where are you?"

"You're not mad about me leaving again?"

"I'm furious," she replied smiling.

"Lock the door. We can't afford anyone to see me. Glinda did as she was told. When she turned around, she couldn't believe her eyes. The mirror's surface seemed to turn to liquid, yet it remained still. A figure started to emerge from it. It was Elphaba, in the flesh! "So how have you been?"

Glinda didn't answer in words. She ran into her and hugged her. Now her tears were different: these were tears of joy.

"I've missed you so much." Elphaba didn't reply. "Thank ypu, thank you."

"Glinda. Need. To. Breath." Oh, right. She released the embrace. "We've missed you, too, Glinda."

"We?" Then, a familiar voice intervened.

"What's up, Glinda the Good?"

"Scarecrow?" The very same scarecrow that helped Dorothy came through the mirror. "What's going on?"

"Did the spell change my voice that much?" He replied as Elphaba grinned.

"Excuse me?" How she hated being confused. The scarecrow took of his hat, making an elegant bow. She'd seen that before.

"Fiyero of the Vinkus, at your service." And she nearly fainted. He stood up and took her hand. Gently, he kissed it; beneath the scarecrow appearance a gentleman still existed. The moment the courtesy ended, she clung herself to him, nearly causing him to fall.

"All that time, you pretended to be someone else. You looked at me in the yes."

"I'm sorry. I did what I had to."

"I understand." She let him go. She decided to be direct. "Why have you come here? Why now?"

"We heard from some sailors that Glinda the Good was having some trouble. We even heard a few rumors about a revolution. All rubbish if you ask me. But we still worried about you." Elphaba answered.

"You have no idea," Glinda replied. "I've gone through hell. Just imagine, having to live a lie every single day for the last five years; to pretend to be happy all the time. In an hour, well, now forty five minutes, I have to give a speech about how happy I am on the anniversary of your dead!" she gave a sigh.

"See, Fiyero? It was a good thing to come." Elphie murmured. Understanding Glinda's puzzled look, he explained.

"We weren't supposed to come back to Oz, never again. But once she heard the rumors, she begged endlessly until I agreed to return." Elphaba nodded. They were risking everything by coming, yet they arrived to her aid, leaving all safety of wherever they were hiding behind.

"Thank you." She said simply, yet quite emotionally, so Glinda-like. "But what happens now?"

"Now," Fiyero said, "we give you a choice." Again, she was puzzled. "Now you know that we are alive and well, sp maybe it won't be so difficult to you now." But he himself knew it wouldn't be any easier.

"The choices are," Elphaba continued, "you can stay here, with your conscience now clean," she looked at the mirror, "or you can come with us away from it all."

Glinda became silent. Come away? Where?

"I know what you're thinking," said Fiyero, "but it's only had at the beginning." And it couldn't be harder than what she was living now.

"Where?" She asked.

"Oh, Glinda," Elphie's eyes lit up. "We flew across the sea. We arrived in a strange land, a new continent!" So the rumors were true. Sailors recently found few survivors of a voyage lost at sea. They stated that they had been living in an unknown land, being well received by its inhabitants. No expedition came back with solid proof, though. "It's beautiful, and it's people are so generous. They don't even mind my skin!"

"A new land, this is unbelievable!"

"Curiously, they speak the same language we speak. The land's name, we have learned, is Opkatur. We live in a small village near their capital city. They're nearly as advanced as we are!"

"Come with us, Glinda. They don't care where you're from. They don't even need to know."

She looked at them. This was the miracle she had been waiting for, the only miracle that could save her. Why shouldn't she take it? Someone knocked the door.

"Miss Glinda?" It was Boq. "May I come in?"

"Not right now," she quickly replied, assuring her friends no danger was being presented.

"The people are ready for you, Miss. They are waiting."

"Good, come back to me in ten minutes. Will you, Boq the Tin Man?"

"Will do, Miss." And his metallic footsteps were heard until he left.

"Was he also fooled by the scarecrow?" She asked Fiyero.

"Of course. I could barely stand him with all his rants about how he hated dear Elphie." He held the Witch's hand. "Stupid Munchkin."

"It's not his fault," replied Elphaba, her voice obviously grim. "It was my sister's-"

"I've decided. I'm going with you."

Silence reigned the room. Only the clock's ticking was heard. To Glinda's surprise, it was Elphaba who broke it.

"Great!" She let go of Fiyero and hugged Glinda. "Thank you, thank you."

"Elphie. Need. To. Breathe." Déjà vu.

"Oh, sorry." She let go. Fiyero just smiled.

"So how do we get there?"

"Through the mirror," he answered.

"I can still use my talent," Elphaba added.

"We'll see who the better sorceress is." Glinda smirked.

"Oh, yeah?" Both of them faced each other. The rivalry between them present the first day they met was still there, obviously jus a friendly feud now.

"Girls, we must make haste." Fiyero quickly interrupted, fearing they might start a duel right there.

"Right," both said in unison. With a tip of her wand, Glinda's desk opened a drawer and an envelope came out. It positioned itself in the center of the desk. Her official seal went along with it. Glinda reached her desk and opened the envelope. She seemed to review what was written inside.

"What's that?" Elphie asked as Glinda smiled.

"My resignation, my goodbyes." Nodding approvingly, she grabbed her seal and made the document official. "The truth. I don't care if they believe it or not."

"And who knows? Maybe it'll be in a museum someday," Elphaba mused.

"Who knows?" Glinda agreed. "In ten minutes, Boq will read this, he'll have a fit, then read it to all Oz that is present in the ceremony, stating that he is the ruler now, all at my request, of course." She looked at both Fiyero and Elphaba. "The truth about the Wicked Witch of the West shall be revealed. All of her good deeds to be known: the Cowardly Lion's freedom –yes Elphie, I found out-, Boq's transformation –yes, that too-, the Wizard's true intentions, everything." That's right. Elphaba still didn't know who was her real father was, or the reason why her skin was green. She had been obsessed of finding out the truth about all that, for her sake. She'd have to tell her later on.

The three of them gave a sigh, yet smiled. Elphaba and Fiyero offered a hand each towards Glinda. Without a single doubt or fear whatsoever she stepped forward, taking their hands.

The three of them had changed so much since the moment they first met. Glinda and Fiyero, both dull and superficial; Elphaba, silent and friendless. Now they were all together, joined by a feeling stronger than any other.

What is this feeling?

Love.

A/N: Now that would be a happy ending :) Review and make me happy!