Hey guys, just a quick note – I have never read Wicked (although I have it in my possession), so this is entirely based on the latest movie Oz: The Great and Powerful, I loved it – Rachel Weisz's character was not explored enough. This will be one of three if I can get them written soon! This is an AU plot – I changed the ending to how I thought it would/should happen. Enjoy

There is a large, inconceivable, difference between being vain and being jealous; vanity is to take pride in one's appearance, whereas jealousy is to desire another's. And Evanora was never jealous. She was the eldest, had a certain grace, and walked with the power and the authority that came from being a murderess. She had highly arched, shaped, eyebrows, full, but cruel, lips and eyes that turned from green as moss to black as night in one fraction of a second. Green was her colour - her talisman, her robes, her jewels. But no, she was never jealous.

When Theodora - oh darling, innocent, simplistically naive Theodora - had burst into her chambers, tears literally carved into her face, there had been a moment of panic, soon washed over by a calm wave of nonchalance. She knew. Of course she knew. Theodora may be foolish in her heart, but she was intelligent in her head. And clever girls don't need hearts or feelings or love (oh the desperation was grating on her nerves).

An apple. An old fairytale really, something that had once fallen from the sky onto the cobbled pavements of her street when she was young. The book was slim, battered, rain damaged, but Evanora read from it and learnt. Evil always wins.

(What she never knew was that the last three pages were missing.)

Theodora had never taken an interest in books. That's why she didn't know. Theo threw accusations at her after she had swallowed, but it was too late. Her heart - her silly, precocious, childish heart - began to choke on the dark. And whilst a tiny, irreconcilable part of her screamed and pounded against an evil wall to stop, that's your sister, Evanora took pride in her work. And she wasn't hurting her sister at all, she was fixing her.

And when darling, not-so-beautiful-anymore Theodora rose up from the ashes - so to speak - she was certain that Glinda was to be beaten. And she almost was. It would have been spectacular.

-Vanity-

Evanora clutched desperately at her chest, an agony she had never felt ripping up through her chest, as if scissors were gliding through her bones. Her hands were shaking, her feet scrabbling against the cold, marble floor tiles. Her brain was scrabbling, bubbling. Where's Theodora? Is she alright?

By sheer force of will, she forced her gaze upon Glinda's hideously beautiful face and followed the trail of gold on her sleeves until they reached her palm. Her heart - if she had had one - would have jumped into her throat. Instead, she felt the blood draining away from her face, a chill rising in its place.

"You," she gasped out, retreating into herself, pain cramping her body. "What have you done!" she shrieked out, releasing the pain and the ferociousness. Her talisman, her power, her magic, her soul, had been crushed in the hands of that worthless, beaming, smug nightmare. The green fell from Glinda's hands, as if she were repulsed. The stones hit the ground, clanging loudly She felt like roaring - she felt like she was on fire. Evanora's top lip rose bitterly, forming a grim smile - so this is what it feels like, Theodora? To be angry? No wonder her tears scarred.

With a strained cry of agony and hopelessness, Evanora turned from the hateful witch. She crawled shakily, each inch travelled worth the seizures possessing every cell of her being. It was the end. Tears filled her eyes. Wretched book lied to me! Anger coursed through her. It told me I was the winner! Her movements stopped. She couldn't move, not by a spell, but by pain. And as Evanora crumpled to the ground, sure in a moment the beautiful darkness would spill over her, she caught a glimpse of her hand.

The transformation was quick, like Theodora's. Her manicured, smooth, ageless skin shrank and tightened and aged, and her nails grew long and filthy, her rich emerald rings swinging merrily off bony fingers. She felt her cheekbones sharply pressing into saggy, drooping skin. Her hair loosened from her scalp, and the pain magnificently stopped. And that was the last positive thought Evanora ever experienced.

Her body - ugly, decrepit, bereft of any beauty - was weak. Her vanity was all but pointless. But it remained. And now she was haggard, and heartless and sister-less. With a cry of sorrow (is that what this is? She thought, wiping a tear from her eye) Evanora knew it was too late.

She could hear dainty footsteps approaching her, and her shoulders swung around to face the intruder. Glinda may be good, but she is not blind to the ugly. Evanora had no need of a mirror to determine what she now looked like - although she could feel the ugliness burning against her all-too-prominent bones. Glinda looked like she wanted to say something, and Evanora was powerless to stop her. The magic was gone. It was all gone.

So what was the point?

Before Glinda could open her mouth and - if the Devil be real may be forbid - forgive her for her wicked ways, Evanora picked her frail body from the ground, ran to the balcony and jumped.

It felt like she was soaring, just like flying, except she could not prevent the speed from increasing. As the wind whipped her face, she heard two screams. Glinda, leaning over the balcony, probably nasty fear spread over her slimy face, (let guilt rot her away, haha!). But Theodora. Her baby sister. All gone now, thanks to her. She was a monstrosity.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, plummeting ever closer to the ground. And suddenly, she was hit, not by Glinda nor that damned Great and Powerful Wizard, but by a spell from Theodora. She couldn't save her, but she could make her beautiful, one last time. Her rich mahogany hair flowed behind her, her skin beamed and tears streamed down her plump, rosy lips. Her vanity was satisfied.

"I'm sorry, my sister, for breaking your heart."

And the delicious darkness finally enraptured her soul and buried her within it.