An Unwanted Return

Chapter One

The night Glinda closed off her heart, she closed herself off from Oz. Sure, the Ozians saw the wonderfully Good Ruler she pretended to be, but they never saw the steely glint in her eye, heart the sharp, raw edge to her voice, saw her frantic letters to no one.

Glinda could see the changes. The tiny shard of a heart she had left shrank back from this new her. However, her numbed self thrived in her new position. She spent several sleepless nights reading up on the Wizard and Nessarose's politics. She would rule with an iron fist, yet she would appear as if she were not doing so. Her people saw her as a beautiful and merciful leader; her maids saw her as cruel and ruthless. The latter were too terrified of the consequences to reveal their thoughts about the great Ruler.

Glinda's true feelings only broke through on the anniversary, hidden safely away in the Emerald Palace, facing the West.

"Elphie…" she whimpered, her hand and forehead resting against the cool glass. "Elphie, look at me. Look at what I've done…"

Dear Elphaba, she thought out, not reaching for a pen.

Today marks exactly a year since you left me. I hope you're happy, as there is no joy left for me. You've taken everything away with you. I can't seem to stop writing to you, even though I know it's pointless. A dead woman cannot receive letters.

One question bothers me, "Why?" Why did you do it? You needn't have surrendered. You still had the Animals… you had me. Was your life just so miserable that you just chose death over flying to safety? Why, Elphaba?

Why?

Signed,

Glinda Upland

Glinda sighed and wiped the tears off of her face. Tomorrow was another day. She need not have a sleepless night.

Dorothy sat glumly in her farmhouse. She twirled her spoon through the tasteless porridge that was her supper. The truth was, it was the best mean they'd had all week.

The farm hadn't fared well when Dorothy returned from Oz. It was as if the Wicked Witch had cursed Dorothy when she melted. Dorothy tapped her fingers against the sides of the bowl. Truth be told, she wasn't hungry. She decided to give up tying to eat and took the porridge to Uncle Henry, who was sick in bed.

Dorothy was unsure exactly what was wrong with her uncle. The doctors said there was something growing on his brain, and it would be fatal to try and remove it. He was in constant pain; the migraines never let up. He was extremely irritable.

More then anything, Dorothy wished she were back in Oz. Oz had no troubles when she'd left. The Wicked Witches were gone, Glinda the Good ruled. Dorothy caught herself fantasizing about getting a cure for her uncle.

No, if she went to Oz, she was not coming back.

She slept fitfully that night, dreaming of falling houses and agonized screams, and ferocious cackling. She awoke suddenly, gasping for breath. As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she realized that she wasn't in her bedroom. The garden around her had flowers so bright and colorful that they could only be from Oz.

Dorothy was back, the ruby slippers gleaming like blood crystals on her feet.

"Lady Glinda?" a maid called hesitantly. "Lady Glinda, Miss Dorothy Gale came back from Kansas. She was discoverated in the Rose Gardens. She wishes to see you. Will you receive her in the Throne Room?"

"No," Glinda said hollowly. "No, send her up." She smiled grimly before getting up and heading to the bathroom to prepare herself.

Her blonde curls were only slightly matted, that could be easily fixed. She grabbed a washcloth and washed her face before applying her make-up. She fluffed out her hair and changed into a glittery pink dress.

Now she would wait.

Glinda knew that the maids would entertain Dorothy long enough to give Glinda time to get presentable. It wouldn't be long now.

She heard tentative footsteps outside her door. "Come in," she called before they had time to knock.

Dorothy entered her room, the door closing behind her. "It's good to see you, Lady Glinda," she said, curtseying.

Glinda stared back at the girl. This was what had become of Elphaba's murderer? This was the girl whose house had killed Nessarose? This girl was just a frightened girl! There was nothing about her that would make you think she would kill to get back home. No, that was wrong. There was something. A slight haunting look to the eyes, ever so slight, yet still there.

"Miss Dorothy," Glinda acknowledged her with a slight nod of her head. "What brings you back to my lovely Land of Oz?"

Dorothy stared at her feet. "I wanted to come back," she said slowly. "My farm's crops failed this year. Me and my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry were starving… Then Uncle Henry got sick."

"Go on," Glinda encouraged, as if she actually cared.

"Aunt Em stayed with him all day," the girl continued quietly. "I had to do the chores around the farm on my own. Uncle Henry was angry all day, so visiting him wasn't any fun. Aunt Em got mad that I didn't visit my uncle enough, so I was punished." She looked up, a fire blazing in her eyes. "So I wished to leave. I wished real hard. Then I woke up in the garden."

Glinda nodded. "I see… Tell me, were you wearing Nessarose's magicked shoes to bed, in the hopes that you could return?"

"Nessarose?" Dorothy's brow furrowed. "Who's that?"

The blonde mentally cursed herself for her slip. "I apologize, slip of the tongue. The ruby slippers, were you wearing the ruby slippers?"

Dorothy nodded slowly, still confused. "Lady Glinda, who is Nessarose, if I may ask?"

"You may not," Glinda replied, her voice suddenly sharp. "It's ancient history."

The girl's eyes widened. She'd never seen this side to Glinda before. What else had changed? She changed the subject quickly. "What happened to my friends? The Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, and the Tinman?"

"The Scarecrow is gone from the public eye," the Good Witch replied slowly. "I have no idea where he is, but no one has seen him since you left. The Tinman is living in Munchkinland, serving as governor. I don't know what became of the Lion, only that he was seen in the forest but also the Animal village." Her tone was clipped, all business.

"Oh," Dorothy said softly. She suddenly felt very awkward.

Perhaps sensing this, Glinda said, "Are you hungry? You look as if you haven't eaten in days. Follow me, I'll get you a decent meal from the kitchens." She rose, an air of authority surrounding her. Dorothy felt as if she had no choice but to follow.

Glinda pretended not to notice her servants shrink back in fear as she passed. Dorothy did not understand what was wrong. Was it her? What had happened to the Good Witch since she had left? She seemed utterly perfect, and perfectly good, when she'd greeted Dorothy at her smashed farmhouse. Was this Nessarose the Wicked Witch of the East? But that couldn't be right; Wicked Witches were just that: Witches. They had no name, no true family. But what about the Witch of the East's sister, the Witch of the West? A little voice nagged. They were family, and you tore them apart. No, she couldn't have. The Witches of East and West were their own little family, and you killed them. Murdered them before they even had a chance.

"No… No…" Dorothy whimpered.

"Hmmm? Did you say something?" Glinda's voice snapped Dorothy's thoughts in two.

"No," the girl replied quickly. Her own thoughts scared her.

The blonde continued to lead Dorothy through a maze of emerald passageways until they finally reached the kitchens. "I want a proper breakfast prepared for my self and Miss Dorothy. Is that understood?"

Several fearful-looking maids nodded, quickly obeying Glinda's demands. "Now," the Good Witch said, turning to face Dorothy. "Why exactly did you wish to come to Oz in the first place? Do you seek help?"

"Well… no," the girl replied slowly. "It's just that… Oz has no troubles, and—" She was cut off by a bitter bark of laughter from Glinda.

"Is that what you think?" she asked, the laughter still ringing throughout the room. "I don't know what world you're living in, but it sure isn't reality." Her cruel, mocking tone cut right through Dorothy.

"What do you mean?"

Glinda wished she hadn't said anything at all. "That's not your concern," she said at last. "My business is my business."

"But, Lady Glinda, maybe I can help?" Dorothy asked, hopeful.

The blonde fixed Dorothy with a hollow stare, her azure eyes dead, without the sparkle they had had at their last meeting. "There is nothing you can do. You don't understand. You can't understand. You're just a child!"

Before the girl could respond, the cooks placed a dish full of bacon, eggs, sausage, and other things she couldn't identify in front of her. They bowed and retreated to the hall.

"Eat, it'll do you good," Glinda said, picking up her own fork.

"But—"

"Eat."

A/N: End chapter one. I'll try to regularly update. This story's easer to write then my others, probably because I took the time to make an outline. Anyways, leave a review and let me know what you think.