Well I was always somewhat dissatisfied with the ending to Wicked (the musical) so I decided that a sequel needed to be written…sorry that the beginning is kind of slow but I'm not the best at starting stories…once everything picks up I promise it will be a whole lot better
A NOTE ABOUT THE TITLE: I think most everyone can agree that the main characters of the musical are Glinda and Elphaba…since the first part (Wicked) is named after Elphaba's title (the Wicked Witch of the West) I figured the second part should be named after Glinda's title (Glinda the Good)…
Glinda Upland, ruler of Oz, awoke shrieking. Luckily the guards outside her bedroom were unsurprised; the blonde's vicious nightmares were frequent. Every time she listened helplessly to the dying screams of her best friend. Sometimes images of Fiyero's beating punctuated these rogue dreams, but never did the pain dull.
Slowly Glinda's breathing returned to normal as she struggled to smooth the sheets, which were knotted and tangled around her body. Just as the petite ruler was closing her eyes again an unnatural shadow caught her attention. She jolted upright, heart pounding. "Hello?" the blonde squeaked. The mysterious silhouette froze. "I see you," Glinda hissed, barely concealing her terror. "Reveal yourself or I'll call my guards!" Slowly, as if with great reluctance, the ruler's midnight visitor stepped into the bright moonlight shining through an open window. Glinda gasped at the proverbial hat and cloak. "Elphie?"
"Yes," replied the same voice Glinda had dreamed about, though this time it wasn't twisted in pain.
"You're alive?" the blonde witch whispered, afraid that the image of her best friend would vanish if she moved too quickly.
"No," came the stony answer.
"Are you a ghost?"
"Yes," the cloaked figure said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm a ghost of the past."
"I miss you," Glinda told her dead friend fervently. "How could you leave me like that?"
"Can we not dredge up such unpleasant things?" Elphaba snapped in the darkness. "I can only stay here for a little while." The blonde ruler searched carefully for a trouble free query.
"Did you find Fiyero wherever you are?" she wondered.
"I suppose you could say that," the shadowy form chuckled, holding a hand out. One finger was adorned with a slender golden ring.
"You got married in heaven?" Glinda squealed delightedly. "Oh Elphie I'm so happy for you!" There was no response. "Elphie?"
"Glinda I really need to leave," the ghostly shape told her sadly.
"Can I just ask you one more question?" the blonde witch begged, desperate to keep her friend close.
"Yes," Elphaba sighed. "One."
"How did the water melt you?"
"What do you mean?" the green witch questioned, her voice strung with puzzlement.
"All those years at Shiz you bathed and stood in the rain and got into snowball fights," Glinda pointed out. "How come you never melted away?"
"I guess I wasn't wicked then," Elphaba shrugged.
"But you were never wicked," the pint sized ruler insisted. "In fact you should be the one ruling Oz now, not me. You were the one who wanted to make the world a better place; I just wanted to be popular."
"The people of Oz would never have accepted me," the cloaked outline snorted. "You're the only one who can make things right." Tense silence flooded the room. "Goodbye Glinda." Before the petite blonde could protest a wave of unnatural drowsiness swamped her mind. Moments later she was asleep.
***
Elphaba warily inched the cabin door open, trying hard not to wake her husband. He would be furious that she'd flown out to check on Glinda again. "Overprotective fool," the green witch muttered to herself. Inside a fire was glowing in the hearth, keeping out the chill of a cold night in the Great Gilikin Forest.
"Hello," came a taut voice. Elphaba's fierce brown eyes focused on a chair just out of the fire's glow. "Where were you?"
"Fiyero you can't expect me to just forget about my best friend," the witch sighed, lighting a lamp. "We left her alone to rule a country."
"Next time at least leave me a note," he sighed, moving forward to embrace his wife. By now the itchy feeling of hay against her skin felt almost natural. "I was so worried."
"I can take care of myself," the green girl informed him sharply. "Even when the Gale Force was searching for me day and night they were clueless. Now Glinda's got them doing more important things. I've been forgotten."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Fiyero observed.
"If everyone's forgotten my reputation as a wicked witch I doubt a single soul remembers who I was before the Wizard invited me to the Emerald City," Elphaba sighed.
"Glinda does," the former prince assured her. "And she always will." Somehow that didn't make the green witch feel any better.
"We can't keep lying to her," she whispered.
"Yes we can," Fiyero said sternly. "I won't let you risk your safety."
"Of course you won't," Elphaba murmured, her voice edged with frustration.
***
Glinda didn't enjoy the hectic whirl of meetings her life had become, but she refused to let Elphaba's death be in vain. Even so there were some days when the blonde princess wanted to smash her head against the nearest wall. Gone were the times when all the petite witch had to worry about was the next fashion trend. Now her social life was nonexistent. Any time outside of meetings was spent making public appearances, many of which involved damning her one true friend. Such speeches were becoming less and less necessary, but it still cut Glinda deep every time someone made a snide comment about the wicked witch.
The day after she spoke with her ghostly visitor was hard. Glinda's mind wouldn't stop wandering back to the oddly realistic dream (for it must have been a dream) that her scarred subconscious had constructed. By the end of the day the blonde was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up on her bed and sleep for weeks. Unfortunately there was a visitor awaiting the ruler in her chambers.
"Hello," Glinda greeted the Tin Man, trying to keep her voice chipper. "What can I do for you?"
"Well I wanted to talk about something," he admitted, looking rather embarrassed. Then, before either of them could speak, their eyes met. Something about his face looked very familiar to the blonde witch, but every time she could feel the memory of those features drawing near it skittered away into the abyss of forgetfulness.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Glinda questioned abruptly, snapping the silent moment into pieces.
"Never mind," the Tin Man shrugged, getting up to leave. "Goodbye Miss Galinda." When the blonde witch heard him say her old name it clicked. Flashes of a sweet boyish face and bright innocent eyes flooded her mind.
"Boq?"