Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Wicked, except a copy of the amazing soundtrack!
This is just a little something I've been thinking about whenever I hear "The Wizard and I".
And I've just had a vision
Almost like a prophecy
I know - it sounds truly crazy
And true, the vision's hazy
But I swear, someday there'll be
A celebration throughout Oz
That's all to do with me!
Elphaba, the "Wicked Witch of the West", watched from the shadows of a rooftop as the citizens of the Emerald City celebrated far below her. Cries of "Good News!", "She's Dead!" and "No One Mourns the Wicked!" sounded out amongst the cheers and laughter of the happy, and rather drunk, crowd. And while this made it easier for her to steal supplies for herself and Fiyero for their journey, this didn't make the reason for the celebration any more pleasant for Elphaba.
Checking the sack hung on the broom, she decided that there was enough food and so took off into the night sky. She relished the coolness of the breeze against her skin, feeling it exert its usual soothing influence, and could feel herself relax slightly. Thinking back on the celebration she was swiftly leaving behind, she let out a laugh roughened by hard living and harsh bitterness into a wicked cackle, reflecting on her school memories. Back then her dreams, both sleeping and awake, were filled with visions of the Wizard and herself ruling over Oz; the people cheering her name and celebrating her deeds. And maybe even the Wizard rectifying her little skin complaint?
Well, her fellow Ozians were certainly celebrating because of her, although not quite how she imagined!
Elphaba glanced back at the shining green city still visible behind her. The tears welling up in her eyes changed the city lights into a blur of green that seemed to twist and swirl until a rough face appeared: Fiyero! The greenish-brown cloth that had replaced his fair skin still caused her heart to leap and her spirit to soar. So what if the other Ozians hated and feared her, celebrating her "death"? As long as her friends (well, Glinda) knew the truth, and as long as she had her love, nothing else mattered. She turned back and urged her broom to the west, where Fiyero and their future awaited.
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