Disclaimer: Wicked does not belong to me. Neither does Oz. I wish...

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

A pale hand fell from beneath the bloodstained death shroud. Once white, the shroud was reserved for the elite dead. The woman beneath the shroud was anything but elite. She was green.

Glinda wept as the body of her best friend was carried out of Munchkinland on the Yellow Brick Road. Her braided hair was temporarily dyed brown, and she was wearing plain clothes so no one could recognize her. Another tall Munchkinlander was kneeling across from her. He was weeping silently as well. Glinda remembered Elphaba had once telling her that not all Munchkinlanders were short, but this man was a darker shade of tan than most Munchkins. He looked up as the body of the Witch of the West passed them. His face, Glinda thought, was nicer than most, but the thing that set him apart from the others were the blue diamonds patterning his dark skin- Fiyero!

Her grief paused for a moment when she saw her crush from her Shiz days. He glanced up once more, and, Glinda thought, a flash of recognition crossed his eyes. As the solemn silence following the body of the Witch faded back into the daily chatter of the Munchkins, Glinda chased after the tear-streaked blue diamonds. But he was gone.

"Fiyero?" she called, sobbing. "Fiyero? Where are you? I want to talk with you!" Glinda hitched up her long skirts and ran through the alleys connecting the colorful houses of Munchkinland, calling after her friend. She ran, turning her head frantically from side to side, attempting to catch a glimpse of Fiyero. She ran abruptly into a brown-and-blue bare chest, soaking Fiyero's unbuttoned shirt with tears. They both collapsed in an alcove, sobbing and mourning the loss of the Witch. When they both finally ran out of tears, Fiyero said quietly,

"Glinda. I miss her too. I'm so sorry that it happened. I- I loved her. I still do."

Glinda's voice hardened as she said, "What happened to her, Fiyero? What happened? Tell me!" her scream reverberated in the now-dark alleys. Fiyero hung his head in shame.

" I'm not sure that I am the best person to tell you that," he murmured softly.

"Who is, then? Nessa? The Wizard? ME?" Glinda questioned, her voice rising to hysterical volumes.

"No," said Fiyero, his voice quavering. "Ozma is."

"Ozma?" Glinda quieted. "I thought she was dead, or frozen, or something. How can she have been responsible for Elphie… dying?" It was the first time either of them had spoken her long-forgotten name since they parted. Once she was the green girl, then she was the Witch. Fiyero's and Glinda's eyes met; hers were brimming with tears, but his were surprisingly dry and empty of all emotion.

"Glinda," Fiyero said. "She was not responsible for her death. I never said that. Ozma is the person to whom you should talk. I can take you to her, if you like,"

Glinda paused.