NEFARIOUS
Lizzie Bernhart

This story takes place three years after the musical ended. There are ties to the book in names and places but it is predominantly based on the musical. Be warned, this story is very long. In fact it spans almost 300 pages on Microsoft Office 2007. While the main thrust of the story is action and adventure, there is a little romance in there. It's a Fiyerba and I ask you to please be forgiving. I'm not a very romantic person so those parts of the story may be overly cheesy and corny.

The story is complete and hopefully I'll be able to update daily. I am a 1L so if I miss a day, please forgive me! I'll do my best to stay on course

Disclaimer: If I was Stephen Schwartz, Gregory Maguire or Winnie Holzman do you really think I would be suffering through law school right now?

Now onto the meat and potatoes:

Chapter One

Glinda Upland walked onto her balcony clothed in her ceremonial gown. The cheers of the Ozians, which used to be music to her ears, now barely brought a smile to her lips. She waved as it would have been strange for her not to do so. Yet, as was the case every year, she could barely hold back the tears. In her arms she bore the Grimmerie, a reminder of how she had gotten to the position she currently held. And the costs that had been borne by so many. The Grimmerie was Glinda's reminder of her troubled past. It was a reminder of what so many had given up. It kept her head focused whenever she felt the thrill of the spotlight, the thrill of being loved and adored, going to her head.

Popularity cost you years that could have been spent with your best friend. Popularity is the reason that she's dead.

Despite Glinda's new found hatred of popularity, she had to remember why it had put her in the position she currently held. Elphaba had rejected popularity to the degree that when she wanted to make a difference, wanted to be heard, her reputation had been so disgraced and rejected that no one listened to what she had to say. They only heard her cackle and saw her black clothes and green skin.

Elphaba had rejected popularity in the same way Glinda had embraced it. Now, their extremes had led them to two very different places. Elphaba was dead, melted, without a grave for Glinda to mourn at. And Fiyero! Glinda's former lover was now reunited with his true love but not before suffering a death so horrible that it still plagued Glinda's nightmares. Torture had been the first thing outlawed under her new regime. The Gale Force was no longer allowed to harm prisoners. They had rights and Glinda wanted to see that they were upheld. A justice system had been established where the accused were innocent until proven guilty by either a jury or else a judge held in good standing within Oz.



And what of Glinda? She was still very much alive, living in the Emerald Palace with wealth, popularity and comfort. Yet she often wished she could join Elphaba and Fiyero in the ground. When one was dead there was no hurt, there was no pain. There was only simple peace and eternal sleep. Glinda might have life but she lived it alone. She had many friends but, by her own admission, the only true friend she had ever had was now dead. Fiyero had cared for her as well even if his heart did belong to Elphaba. She missed the presence and comfort her former lover used to give her.

"Let the dead bury the dead," Glinda often quoted to herself. What good would her death bring to the cause Elphaba and Fiyero had died for? Their race had been run and their fight fought. They had entered into eternal rest. Now it was Glinda's turn to ensure that their deaths had not been in vain. Yes, no one would ever know in whose name Glinda fought. But Glinda knew and that was enough. Elphaba and Fiyero were finally together and Glinda was content to know that she would eventually join them. The three of them would be reunited in whatever After Life awaited them. This was the only thought that got her through the day. It was the one thing that could make her smile. Whenever she was forced to address her subjects, she would think of Elphaba and Fiyero in each other's arms waiting for the day when Glinda would return to them. While in Oz three was definitely a crowd, in heaven things were different. Of this, Glinda was certain.

And for three years Glinda had waited. She worked night and day. Besides torture, the first laws to go were the ones concerning Animal suppression.

"Separate is inherently unequal," Glinda had proclaimed at a press conference. "From this day and henceforth, Animals and humans are seen as equal in all matters. They're to be given equal opportunity for employment and housing, admission to universities, access to medical care and within the new judicial system."

Glinda had announced the creation of her new cabinet just days after Elphaba's death. While she might hold the title of absolute ruler, the power was not something Glinda wanted to go to her head.

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," she had added in her statement to the Ozians. "My cabinet will consist of individuals, both human and Animal, from different walks of life. I'll listen to all view points and strive to make the best decisions on your behalf."

The Ozians weren't sure what to say. They had never heard of such a system before. Most of them had been very small when the Wizard had seized power those many years ago.

"And furthermore," Glinda took a deep breath. "I wish to ensure that your voices are heard as well. Therefore, in community blocks that my cabinet will create, you will elect an individual to come and serve on your behalf here in the Emerald City. They will bring your ideas, your hopes, and your concerns."

Glinda had been hoping for some reaction to this proclamation. Cheering, booing, hissing, conversation of unease, anything would have been better than the silence she faced. Yes, this was a new way of thinking for the Ozians. They were used to one ruler, one lawmaker and one judge.



"After the election, which will be overseen by my cabinet this one and only time, the first job of the officials will be to establish small governments within the community blocks. There is no reason why someone should have to journey all the way to the Emerald City to address grievances."

The next item on the agenda was the suggestion that Glinda be an elected official. It didn't seem right to the good witch that she should run amok unaccounted for. With the Grimmerie and Elphaba's hat to remind her of what a corrupt leader could do to a people, Glinda trusted herself not to become the corrupt official the Wizard had been. However, just because she could be trusted didn't mean that the leader that followed her on the throne would be the same. What if another Wizard came to power long after Glinda had joined Elphaba and Fiyero in the land of the dead? What if all of their hard work was reverted into the old ways of prejudice and discrimination? Glinda still enjoyed being popular and she hated the thought of posterity showing her in a less than favorable light.

"You'll be long dead," she tried to tell herself. However, it didn't help. Glinda clutched the Grimmerie tightly to her chest as she made her pronouncements. She gripped it as if hoping that its power, as well as its former owner, would seep into her veins and tell her what to do.

Elphie, you were always better at this than me, Glinda thought to herself. She closed her eyes and pictured the green witch at her side. The tighter she squeezed her eyes the more she could almost see her former roommate's face. When she opened them again, Elphaba was at her side. But it wasn't the Elphaba she remembered.

The witch's skin was green in some spots but charred black and red and purple in others. Elphaba looked as a burn victim would. Part of her hair still hung long down her back but the other half was missing. It appeared to have been burned away and Glinda guessed that this was where the water had hit her directly.

"Why do you call me, Glinda," the green witch glared at her. "I've left you forever and the change this land requires is in your hands now. I trusted you with this task. Please don't tell me that this trust was misplaced."

Despite the fact that the images of a burned and charred Elphaba, in addition to her words, were merely figments of Glinda's imagination, they helped her make decisions on which path to choose.

"Also, I invite everyone to join me at the Emerald Palace. I refuse to cloak myself in secrecy. I want each Ozian to come and see my government. I promise that we will turn Oz around and restore her to her greatness."

Again, the Ozians said nothing but Glinda felt in her heart that she had made the right decision. Maybe in a few years the citizens of Oz would be ready to entertain the idea of an elected leader but today was not that day.

"I will also read to you the following proclamations that will take place from this day and henceforth."



Glinda had then read aloud the new rules regarding Animal rights. The list was long and took over an hour to read. Glinda knew the Ozians would be tiring of her voice and decided that the press conference must end.

"Let me conclude by adding the most important new law; it is a crime to discriminate against an Animal. They are our equals in every way and those who continue to practice discrimination based on race will be punished severely for it."

A hand went up in the crowd. Glinda looked at the young man wearing stripped trousers and a plain cotton shirt. He looked to be around Glinda's age and she nodded her approval and gestured for the reporter to join her at the podium.

"Oh that isn't necessary, Lady Glinda." The young man had a clear voice and he merely stood at his seat. "I have only one simple question."

Glinda had given him a smile and nodded. His voice was kind and courteous thus Glinda knew she had nothing to fear from this man.

"It concerns discrimination," the reporter ventured. "Today you have made it a crime to discriminate against an Animal on the basis of race?"

Glinda gave a stiff nod. "It's good to see that someone was listening."

The young man gave a brief smile but it was an expression that Glinda didn't like. There was something in that smile that made it look more like a smirk. Was the reporter mocking her?

"What about other forms of discrimination?" he now asked.

Glinda nibbled on her lip and wished that the burned and charred Elphaba would return to her side. She squeezed the Grimmerie and thought of Elphaba. She thought of discrimination because of skin color. She thought of her own small frame and through of discrimination based on height or weight or physical appearance. Suddenly, she knew what Elphaba would say.

"Any form of discrimination is a crime, sir." Glinda's voice was calm and clear although her white knuckles as she clutched the Grimmerie told a different story. She watched as the reporter jotted down a few notes.

"What about an employer's right to refuse service to anyone, Lady Glinda?"

Glinda knew that right. She remembered going with Elphaba to a local pub for a pint of ale. The manager had refused to seat them and ordered them from his pub. His hand had gestured to a sign above the entrance.

We reserve the right to refuse business to anyone.

When Elphaba, angry and resentful, had demanded to know the reason why they were being tossed out like garbage, the man had merely pointed to the door.

"I have my rights, broccoli, and they include not having to explain myself to you."



Elphaba had been furious and made motions to further argue. Glinda, however, had intervened and dragged her friend from the tavern before Elphaba said or did something she would regret.

"It's because I'm green," Elphaba had snarled as Glinda led the way back to Shiz and their dormitory. "I hate it!"

Glinda had never felt for Elphaba as she had that night. Even now, the memory of the laughing students and cruel adults made her heart harden against any form of discrimination.

"If an employer refuses to accept business, he or she must give a well thought out reason."

At this, a few of the Ozians expressions hardened. Glinda began to wish this reporter would sit down and give her time to think. She didn't have Elphaba's sharp tongue and quick wit. Glinda needed the time to think about her answers and their consequences.

"So what is a good excuse," the young reporter asked. "Possible danger, smell, what?"

Glinda pondered the question for a moment. The young man did raise a fair point. What if an employer felt that a patron was dangerous? Or what if he caused a racket and threatened the possible comfort of the other patrons?

"It's a case by case basis, sir," was her response but Glinda found that her voice didn't hold the confidence it once had.

The reporter was quiet for several minutes and Glinda hoped that his interrogation was about to end. The silence her proclamations from earlier had brought had given the blonde a false sense of security. Maybe they wouldn't question her judgments. They followed the Wizard blindly so why should Glinda the Good be any different? Now, she was starting to rethink this.

"And, Lady Glinda, perhaps you can tell me how we shall determine this 'case by case basis?' What precedent will we set?"

"An example," Glinda asked more to give her some stalling time than to further understand his point.

"Okay, what if someone walks into my restaurant with green skin and wants to be served."

Glinda's thoughts immediately returned to the reporter. He was looking her in the eyes and not even glancing at his notes. His left hand limply held the notebook and the right clutched a pen. Glinda wasn't the only person now giving the reporter their absolute and complete attention. At the words 'green skin' many had snapped to attention, pens and papers at the ready. Glinda swore that she saw a small smirk form on the reporter's face. This was time she was sure it hadn't been her imagination.

"And I feel that she is a threat," he added almost as an afterthought.

Glinda felt her anger boil. This reporter was merely a racist bigot who hated anyone who looked different than himself. She didn't have to stomach his questions.

"And why would you think her a threat because of the color of her skin?"



The reporter put on a look of shock but Glinda could tell it was merely a ruse. However, the expressions on the rest of the crowd were the same but genuine.

"Well, Lady Glinda, perhaps you have forgotten but green was the skin color of the Wicked Witch of the West."

It was then that Glinda recognized his voice. Just a week ago, he had been present at the celebrations remembering the death of the Wicked Witch of the West…Elphaba. He had been the one to ask if Elphaba had been her friend. Glinda's political and half true answer that their paths had indeed crossed at school, but conveniently left out that they had been roommates and eventual friends, seemed to have not been bought by this reporter.

"The Wicked Witch of the West wasn't defined by her skin color, sir," Glinda half snarled. "But by her actions. She would still have been wicked even if her skin color was pale white. I would still be Glinda the Good even if my skin color was as verdant as the witch's."

The reporter inclined his head politely as if conceding some defeat.

"Your Goodness raises a very fair point," Glinda was barely able to keep from giving a sigh of relief. It was a good thing she waited for the reporter wasn't done. "However, you seem to be missing the main point of my question. As an employer who remembers the Wicked Witch of the West because of her skin tone, I don't trust anyone with that color. I refuse to serve the person because I fear she might harm my other customers."

"Then you have broken the law," Glinda snapped at him. She wasn't missing the point of his question and she was angry that he would suggest such a thing. "You have used skin color as a form of discrimination and thus the green skinned woman could sue you under the new law in our courts."

The reporter hadn't taken notes for several questions but this time he scribbled something quickly into his notebook.

"Really? And what if the green skinned woman happened to be the Wicked Witch of the West? What do you…"

"SHE'S DEAD, YOU MORON!" Glinda couldn't control herself anymore. She fought to keep the tears from falling. It was hard enough on Glinda to celebrate, rather than mourn, the death of her best friend. Now, this idiot was insinuating that Elphaba still lived. She didn't and Glinda knew it. She, herself, had heard Elphaba's screams of unbearable pain and later learned from the Tin Man that her best friend had melted into nothingness.

Many in the audience were now murmuring amongst themselves. The reporter, however, seemed unabashed at Glinda's sudden outburst.

"We all know she's dead, your Goodness, but that wasn't the point of my question. I was wondering if I, as an employer, would be compensated for whatever mischief the Witch stirred up?"

"What do you mean," Glinda snapped. Her patience had been wearing thin when this brow beating had first begun and now she was simply annoyed.



"I mean, there's really no way I can discern when someone is dangerous, according to the law. Hence, if I have fears about a person for whatever reason and I admit them to remain within the confines of the law, what happens if my fears are confirmed? Say a person with purple skin comes in and I feel it in my bones that this person is up to no good. However, I can't think of a concrete reason to order him from my pub, except his skin color, so I admit him. He proceeds to shoot one of my customers and the entire restaurant is shut down and turned into a crime scene."

"You would be compensated for lost wages," Glinda snapped a little more harshly than she originally intended.

"Yes but what about my poor customer? And what if my restaurant loses business because people are terrified to come in? If I had been allowed to dismiss the gentleman without giving reason, my patron would still be alive and my pub not garnered the reputation as 'the place where someone was murdered in cold blood'."

All eyes were once again on Glinda. The good witch fought to maintain her composure. She wouldn't have reacted with such anger if the first 'patron' hadn't had green skin she realized. As the person now had purple skin, she began to see the reporter's point. The moment she had met Madam Morrible she knew in her bones that there was something not right with the woman. However, her want to join her sorcery seminar and gain ground with the esteemed headmistress had made her put aside those feelings.

Glinda's thoughts turned to Elphaba. Would she have thought differently of the situation if the person had purple skin instead of green? Of course not. Elphaba was against all forms of discrimination.

"Sir, your question is well thought out but the law stands. I will not change a law that will protect millions for the safety of a few. Discrimination of any kind remains a crime punishable by a fine, a jail term or both."

The reporter seemed poised to ask more questions but Glinda wasn't in the mood to banter all night. The extreme emotions she had been experiencing since Elphaba's death had exhausted her. She only wanted to return to her chambers and spend a quiet evening alone.

"Thank you for attending this press conference and know that there will be another one here next week. I bid you all a goodnight."

Glinda had left the stage and returned to her rooms. She opened her closet door and retrieved Elphaba's hat. She hugged it to her chest remembering in horror how her friend had come to posses that hat.

"I'm doing my best for you, Elphie, I really am."

So for three years Glinda had ruled Oz. Her laws were not questioned in public except by the same reporter. His name was Killian Shroud and he hailed from the Lower Lowlands. However, his public questioning of Lady Glinda led to whisperings around the Land of Oz. Glinda was losing favor and her methods were being questioned. However, as all of this was done in secret, Glinda was not aware of her diminishing popularity.



"There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on. Empty chairs at empty tables! Now my friends are dead and gone! Here they talked of revolution. Here it was they lit the flame. Here they sang about tomorrow. And tomorrow never came!" Les Miserables