Title: Witch of the East

Author: Aerohead

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Mention of Fiyero/Elphaba, Fiyero/Glinda, and Glinda/OC, also has Dorothy/OC

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: For L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman who own this idea that I'm extending. Thank you for giving me the first part.

Warning: spoiler for the ending of the musical Wicked, but that's pretty much about it.

Genre: Romance, slight drama

Summary: What happened at Shiz University that made Dorothy Gale who she now is at twenty-eight years old.

Author's Notes: Bah. Well, today's my birthday. Sorry if I'm not jumping for joy, but it's rather bittersweet to turn seventeen and have to go back to school after Christmas break AND to have to go to a Confirmation meeting. Bah, humbug I say. Well, I'll stop complaining and just write; I may be able to get my frustrations out on Dorothy. This chapter will be short, since I don't know when I have to leave for class.

Chapter Three: The Liberal Gazelle

Shiz was like something Dorothy had only imagined. She loved every minute of it, even if the teachers babied her and coddled her. She seemed to have a lighter workload than Ozma, but since Ozma was taking sophomore courses in their freshmen year, she pinned the workload situation to that.

There was only one class she did not like. They had just fired old Professor Nikidik, and in his stead, they had hired a Gazelle who had recently moved back into Oz after the Bans were lifted.

The Gazelle was Professor Iri Timin, a Gazelle who was born in Quox. He had moved to Oz to be a professor of History after the Bans were lifted, and had taken it upon himself to teach students the 'real' history of Oz, along with being the Briscoe Hall headmaster. His favorite subjects in his lessons were either the secession of the Vinkus and what events in history had led up to it, or Animal Rights – or the lack thereof – and how they affected all citizens throughout the country.

And his teaching style confused Dorothy more than ever. He liked to assign essays where a student would have to sit in a quiet place and imagine themselves as a citizen of Oz during something that happened. For instance, their newest assignment was to imagine themselves as a spectator in the Emerald City the day Madame Morrible, the Wizard's press secretary, announced that Elphaba Thropp was, officially, a 'Wicked Witch'.

"It can't be that hard to imagine fear and panic." Ozma said, looking up from her Life Sciences book.

Dorothy had her face screwed up in concentration as she tried to imagine the fear the Witch of the West had inspired in her when she was ten. Suffice it to say, it was not working very well. She threw her hands up in exasperation, and glared at Ozma. "Well, if it's so easy for you, why aren't you in Timin's class?"

Ozma went back to her book. "He teaches Life Sciences, too. I am in his class, just not the class you have him for."

"Brat." Muttered Dorothy, trying to concentrate. Something hard hit the back of her head, and she opened her eyes to glare at Ozma. The startling conclusion, however, was that Ozma was staring in utter annoyance at the door that was behind Dorothy; Ozma was, in fact, sitting on the bed in front of the young Kansas woman.

"I thought you girls would like a break from studying." Said Merric. Dorothy turned and smiled at him kindly, before standing. She picked up the small book of poetry he had thrown at her, and handed it to him.

"Well, it would be nice."

"Your essay, Dorothy." Said Ozma.

"It can be done later, Ozma." Dorothy turned and sent her best friend a sickeningly sweet smile. She turned back to Merric and her smile became more relaxed. "Just give us five minutes to freshen up."

Merric nodded and smiled at both girls. "I'll see you two, then, I hope?" he said, before allowing himself out. Dorothy closed the door behind him, and leaned against it.

"Isn't he something, Ozma?" she asked, rather melodramatic.

Ozma rolled her eyes and went back to her book. "He's something all right." She muttered.

Dorothy looked at her in utter horror, before straightening and walking over to her dresser. She took out a new, deep blue skirt and a white blouse, before picking out a deep purple skirt and another white blouse. She threw the deep purple skirt and one of the blouses at Ozma.

Ozma looked up from her book, scowling. "What was that for?" she demanded. Dorothy looked at her innocently.

"What? Should we go with the blue for you, then?" she asked. "Really, Ozma, I don't care, I think I look good in either, but you're always the stuck up one about these things. It may be because you were born a princess, and I was merely assigned the part…"

"Dorothy, shut up." Ozma said. Dorothy stared at her friend. "I'd rather not go flounce in front of a brat Quadling who wants nothing more out of us than to say he knows the right people and is with the right crowds."

Dorothy crossed her arms. "Really, Ozma, you can be so…racist at times." She said, lips pursed, before she started to undress. "I mean, it's just harmless flirting, and within a year he'll be gone, while we'll still be here. There's nothing wrong with having a little fun. And maybe we can make friends through him; he's a member of the theatre troupe, Ozma, so he must have some good connections. You know most of the students in the theatre troupe are well-to-do."

Ozma just settled back into her book. Dorothy pouted, but got no response. She brushed her hair quickly and looked at herself in her mirror. Satisfied, she started out of the room. Ozma sighed and stood, taking her book with her. "I am not allowing you to be naïve about the men of our society." She muttered.

"I don't need a chaperone." Dorothy said as they made their way down the stairs toward the doors of Crage Hall.

"Of course you don't." Ozma said, sounding tired. They reached the grounds and looked around. At a small study table near a large Quoxwood, Merric was sitting with another boy in his class. The girls made their way over to them and sat down. "Hi, Merric; who's your friend?" Dorothy asked.

Merric closed the book he and the other boy had been reading and smiled. "This is Shell. Shell, this is Dorothy Gale."

"The Dorothy Gale?" asked Shell, though he didn't sound as thoroughly impressed as Dorothy had hoped.

Dorothy smiled anyway, to hide her hurt. "Why, yes, I am." She said. The conversation died. She turned to Ozma, but the girl was already tucked into her book. Again. "So…Shell?" she said. The brunette turned his gaze toward her. She smiled nervously, having hoped that Merric would intervene and she wouldn't have to actually ask the boy a question. "That's…an odd name, isn't it? Where are you from, originally?"

"I was born in Quadling Country, but I lived in Colwen Grounds. Apparently I was named after a friend of my mother's, to some extent." He shrugged, leaning his chin on the heel of his palm. "Do you have any siblings, Dorothy?"

Dorothy looked at Shell, flustered. "Well…no. My parents died when I was young, and I lived with my mother's sister until I was ten or so, when I came to live here, permanently."

"Ah." Shell said, nodding to himself.

"Why do you ask?" Ozma said, not looking up from her book. Dorothy took some pride in detecting the protectiveness in her friend's voice.

Shell shrugged. "No reason."

The quiet bloomed again. Dorothy was going out of her mind trying to find some thread of conversation. "You know, you and Shell actually have something in common." Merric said. Both parties looked at the Quadling as if he were insane. "No, it's true. You were both orphaned."

Dorothy looked up, surprised. "Really?" she said. "When did your parents die?"

Shell shrugged. "My mother died in childbirth, and my father died about eight years ago." He said, not batting an eyelash. "I lived with my sister for a year – well, when I wasn't at a boys' school."

Dorothy looked at Shell curiously. He hadn't batted an eyelash talking about his parents, but when the subject of this sister came up, his eyes averted from her and his cheeks tinged with pink.

Merric, however, was ready to explain with a light-hearted pat on the back to Shell. "What I meant was that he's the only living member of his family. He had two sisters; they died within three weeks of each other."

Shell's lips pursed and he stood. "I'll see you later, Merric. I have some Government homework to finish if I want to graduate early." He nodded. "I'll see you some other time, Miss Gale. But Professor Timin is a very hard teacher, and he's the only one I need to pass in order for my early graduation." He smiled at Ozma, who looked up at him over her book, before he walked away.

Merric rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Shell can be a little…touchy, at times." He said.

"Why does he want to graduate early?" asked Ozma, putting her book down.

Merric smiled and leaned back. "Well, he's twenty-one. When his sisters were…er…died, he took a year off to set their estates in order. Since he's the only living member of his family, he had to make sure that their last wills and testaments were carried out correctly. He loved his sisters very much, even if they were older than him, so after seven years, it's still a rather hard subject for him. I shouldn't have brought it up." He smiled wanly, before standing. "I'm going to go make sure he's fine. Dorothy, would you like to have dinner with me tonight, perhaps?"

Dorothy smiled. "Of course." He nodded.

"I'll pick you up around…eight?" He waved and ran off, leaving two very confused freshmen watching him go.