Chapter 3: Glinda

Disclaimer: I own this idea, but not any of the characters. Glinda in wondering why she suggested using Nessa to catch Elphaba, and trying on dresses for the confrontation with Elphaba after Nessa's death.

The frilly princess posed in front of her mirror, admiring herself in the brand new pink dress. Raising her typically overdone wand so that the end rested against her collarbone, she rested her chin on the tip and stared at her face. It was something she had not dared look at for such a long time. She knew she had to make it look pretty and happy for her Ozians, but she still couldn't bear to look at herself. What had she become? A hard shell of a woman who had mercilessly suggested using Nessarose, her best friend's sister, as bait to catch this- Wicked Witch.

Glinda swept the wand down, holding her head up and observing the regal tilt of her head. She looked beautiful, as she always had. But who was she? Who was this- Good Witch? Good? What comparison did Good have to Wicked? Wicked was such an extreme, but good . . . Good was a word used on pets and things far from it. Naughty children are called good if they do the smallest act of obedience. Then I am good, she thought. I'm just the pet of Morrible and the Wizard. They call me good, because I have been their good little pet. As she stared at herself she realized, Elphaba had once again received the extreme, the recognition, and Glinda had simply received the lukewarm title. Elphaba was the great threat, and was the terror of all of Oz. Glinda was someone trying to fight her, the Good Witch against the Wicked one. Fighting, but never winning. Glinda sighed and fitted a tiara into her hair.

She never could beat Elphaba at anything.