A/N: Okay, reviews or no, I'm posting this.
Disclaimer: Yo hacer no propio traviesto.
A rubber duck goes to whoever figures out the language!
--------------------No One Mourns The Wicked, Or Do They? --------------------
'No, nobody can know. Morrible will have to stay there.'
Glinda sighed. 'Why does my life have to be so complicated?' she thought. 'As if running your own country is hard enough, try adding the knowledge of your best friend's death, with no comfort from anyone, and her death be the biggest celebration since the arrival of the Wizard. The stupid Wizard! If it weren't for him, everything would be all right. Elphie wouldn't be dead, heck, Elphie wouldn't even have been born, much less green.' Glinda shed bitter tears at the thought of the Wizard's secret. She'd found out that the Wizard, the so-called "sentimental man," had sent for the death of his own daughter. ' "I am a sentimental man," he'd told us, "who always longed to be a father." Some father he turned out to be. He's the one who sent for the stupid witch hunters! If it weren't for them, young… what's-her-name, Miss I-just-want-to-go-home, might not have thrown the water.'
Glinda's mind reeled. This was too much for her. "I CAN'T TAKE IT!" she roared. She smashed a vase in frustration. 'Great, now the attendant will thing I've gone insane,' she thought. 'Wait, I think I have.'
As Glinda predicted, the attendant rushed to the door at the sound of Glinda's shout and the vase breaking.
"Lady Glinda, are you okay?" came her small voice. "Would you like some assistance?"
"No, tha—well, yes, please bring me some tea to calm my nerves." Glinda replied. She'd have her clean up the vase later. Now, she just needed to be alone.
She walked over to her bookcase and pulled out an unused diary. She sat down at her desk and began to write.
When the attendant came back. She took the teacup, drained it, and headed down to the library where she knew she wouldn't be disturbed.
She wrote furiously until well past midnight. She fought against her need to sleep; this needed to be said. She wrote until she was ready to fall asleep on the spot. She reluctantly closed the diary, locked it, and headed to her room to sleep.
The next morning, she ate her breakfast and sat down again to write. When she was finally finished, it was almost time for lunch, she was way behind schedule, and she was still in her nightclothes. Satisfied, she wrote on the front, in overly cursive letters, "Wicked Witch Or Not: The Truth About Elphaba Thropp. Written by, Glinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands." She wrote the same thing on the spine, and shoved it back on the shelf. She knew that one of the workers would see it and, hopefully, read it. Or, at least, ask her about it.
Much to her dismay, she hadthree appointments, one after another, in fifteen minutes. 'Great. Just great.' Glinda hurriedly ate a small lunch, got dressed, and was applying her make-up when the attendant came to tell her that the first appointment was here.
Moments later, she headed down the stairs to see that her appointment was…
"Pfannee!" Glinda shrieked. "It's been a while."
"Galinda!" Pfannee returned. "Yes, it has."
Glinda didn't bother correcting Pfannee about her name. She'd never understood why she'd changed it in the first place.
The attendant led the women to the parlor, where they could talk in private.
"So, Pfannee, what brings you here?" Glinda asked.
"Just to tell you that the Wicked Witch has been spotted."
"Wh-What?" Glinda tried not to let her voice waver. 'Could it really be Elphie?' she dared to hope.
"Oh, it's probably nothing." Pfannee dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "Probably just some prank to scare people. And, let me tell you, it's working. The Munchkins are terrified. And, frankly, I don't blame them, after what they went through with the wretched Witch of the East."
"Nessa…" Glinda whispered softly.
"What's that?" Pfannee asked.
"Oh, nothing, just, I never liked the 'Wicked Witch' stuff. I never saw Nessa as one for sorcery."
"Oh, but she made herself able to walk, didn't she?" Pfannee was generally stunned. She didn't think Glinda cared what Oz called the Witches.
"I always thought Elphie did that…" Glinda murmured.
"Glinda, you weren't still her friend were you?" Pfannee inquired.
Glinda thought this was getting a little too close to the truth for comfort. "No, of course not. We went our separate ways when I realized what she was trying to do." 'Well, that's half the truth. We did separate, but only because I was too afraid to go along with her. Now I realize that I should've. It probably would be the same as what I have now, only with Elphie by my side.' "Oh, would you see the time! Sorry, Pfannee, my next appointment is in a few clock-ticks."
"Oh, I didn't notice the time, sorry. I'll be going, then." Glinda led her old friend out. 'But, is she really my friend? I mean, she was friends with Galinda. But, I'm Glinda now. And Glinda is different,' she concluded. 'Glinda thinks too much lately.' Glinda chuckled as she thought about what she used to be. 'All I ever used to think about was gossip, how weird Elphie was, and what to wear. Now look at me!'
Glinda sighed and went back to the parlor to wait for her next appointment.
The appointment turned out to be a very frightened-looking man from the Vinkus. At least, he looked like he came from the Vinkus, with his dark skin, and sandy clothes.
"The W-Wicked Witch!" he'd stammered. "Sh-Sh-She's b-back!" With that said, he fell over in a dead faint, and Glinda had him moved to a guestroom until he woke up.
The last appointment turned out to be a crazy suitor who wanted to have lunch with her. Naturally, she'd had him removed at once.
Left alone with her misery, Glinda stared out the window, lost in thought about what Pfannee and the man from the Vinkus had said.
Finally, hours later, an attendant came to tell her that the man was awake.
Glinda walked calmly to the room, trying extremely hard not to let excitement take over. As she reached the door, she knocked politely and entered.
"Hello, sorry to disturb you. But, I need to know what you meant," Glinda said slowly.
The man blinked, as if he didn't know where he was. Then his blank look turned to one of recognition, and—it might have been a trick of the light—embarrassment.
"Oh," he said groggily, "well, the Witch is back."
"Yes," Glinda replied calmly, her patience running out, "I know that part. But, what makes you say that?"
"I saw 'er," he said bluntly.
"Can you describe what you may, or may not, have seen?" Glinda asked. She wouldn't—couldn't—believe Elphaba was alive, at least, not without proof. She couldn't let herself hope to only have her dreams crushed.
"See, I was huntin' and I saw this black figure. An' its hood fell down, an' 'er skin was green," he said.
"Now, are you sure that her skin was green?" Glinda asked. "I mean, it wasn't a trick of the light, or your eyes playing tricks on you? Or, she wasn't holding an emerald, and the light reflected green off of it?" 'Alright, now I sound crazy.'
The man thought hard for a few clock-ticks. "Nope," he finally said. "There weren't nothin' like that. Nothin' at all. Least, nothin' I saw, and I saw everythang."
Glinda was deeply disturbed. Not only was her friend alive, but people were spotting her. She wasn't being smart. 'And Elphie was the smartest person I ever knew.'
A/N: All right, this chapter wasn't Elphaba's POV like I'd planned, it's coming. Now, see that purplish button below, CLICK IT! I'LL EVEN TAKE FLAMES IF I HAVE TO! Okay, maybe not flames…