I know that this will seem to take a much different route than the first chapter may have suggested, but in the end this is what I came up with. This fanfiction will be completely musicalverse, as I am only just reading Son of a Witch right now and wouldn't want to get anything mixed up. Enjoy!

~~Seven years later~~

"Damn spells, all sounding like one another," Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West, mumbled in irritation, scratching out yet another set of strange symbols she had scribbled on the page earlier before tossing the entire sheet away. She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyelids, taking a moment to clear her head and start over, but after a few minutes of silence she scowled and began pacing the room, deep in thought, absentmindedly whispering spells under her breath and causing a chair to go flying across the room.

As naturally skilled as the witch was with magic, and however intently she had studied the Grimmerie before leaving it to Glinda, she still could not wrap her head around a simple transformation spell! Sure, she could recall the spell she used to turn Fiyero into a scarecrow, but using the same spell again would hardly make a difference, and since there was nothing she could do to reverse it, she had to be creative. So far all she had managed to do was give him his regular hair back as well as a few other... useful devices, on occasion. Still, it wasn't good enough. It was her fault that he was the way he was, and Oz be damned if she was going to let him stay that way. He may say he didn't mind, but she knew him better than he gave her credit for. When living with a person for seven years and having little other contact with humans, it was impossible not to learn their mind inside and out.

Elphaba halted in her pacing when she heard a faint knocking on the window of her study. Her head whipped around and to her delight she saw Chistery, her faithful friend and messenger. She hurried over to open the window and invite him inside, allowing him to get comfortable before he delivered the weekly newspaper to the green woman.

"Thank you my friend," she said in anticipation, excited to learn of the latest news in Oz and the condition of her dear Glinda.

The witch had not seen her friend since the day she faked her own death and went into hiding with Fiyero. Though she had been pleasantly surprised by the letter Chistery had delivered three weeks later, it changed very little. She had responded as best she could, making it absolutely clear that she could never return while still making it known she felt the same way her friend did. It broke her heart knowing that things had to be the way they were, but thanks to the Wizard- or her father, though she refused to think of him as such- it was unlikely to change. The citizens of Oz still knew her as the Wicked Witch. A label such as that had proved difficult to lose.

Turning her full attention to the paper in her hands, Elphaba flipped through the many pages of meaningless gossip until she found an interview that had been conducted with the Good Witch herself.

Ruling over the land of Oz has certainly been a privilege I never expected to be granted during my university years. My roommate and I would chat for hours over the "what-if's" in life, and I'm sure leading this fair land come up somewhere, but it always seemed like such a distant dream. While it is not quite as easy as I imagined, I am every bit as happy and proud to be your ruler.

Elphaba chuckled quietly and shook her head. What Glinda forgot to mention, and for good reason, was that it had been Elphie who did most of the talking when it came to ruling Oz. It was one of the subjects that the green-skinned girl could go on about for hours on end, an unusual change to Glinda's usual chatter.

True, I do miss those days. They were some of the best of my life... such fond memories I hold of my days as dear old Shiz, with my darling friends...

The rest of the interview went on about politics, mostly, with a little fashion advice thrown in at one point. That gave Elphaba a good laugh. Some people never changed...

Glinda, formally known as Lady Glinda, the Good Witch and ruler over the land of Oz (Your Ozness sounded much too formal and distant for her taste), collapsed onto her extravagant bed and huffed twice. Politics could be ever so taxing on a person. Being a public figure was one thing, one thing the woman could handle quite simply. Being in charge whilst attempting to keep up her public image was a very different matter. Fortunately for the witch, she had had years of practice in her school days, university and otherwise, in keeping up appearances regardless of how she truly felt. Such skills were put to the ultimate test the day she thought her best friend had been killed. She had put on a brave face, smiled to all the citizens of Oz and pretended to celebrate. Of course after she realized the truth, and received the confirmation letter from Elphaba herself, the pain was significantly easier to handle. Knowing you could never see your best friend- your sister- ever again while the rest of Oz rejoiced her death and cursed her name was hard enough. Knowing she was still alive, somewhere with Fiyero, hopefully happy, took off a little stress.

When faced with an audience, the good witch was all smiles and happy-happy and la-de-da. Behind her bedroom doors, she could be a much different woman. The only person she had ever allowed to see such a side of her was Elphie, and now with her gone, every time she let down her guard she was alone. From the vernacular of the first and only letter her friend had had delivered to her, it was clear that staying in touch wouldn't be possible. Too much security and risk of being found out. Both woman knew that if one single letter was intercepted by the Gale Force it would not only put Elphaba's life in danger once again, it would threaten Glinda's position on the throne as well. How would the people trust her again if they knew she was in league with the Wicked Witch?

The very thought of such a title made Glinda shiver and roll her eyes in disgust. Elphaba was never wicked. Perhaps she thought so herself, after Fiyero's capture, but Glinda didn't buy it for a moment. Her friend was distraught with the death of her sister and learning the truth about Doctor Dillamond. Fiyero was the final straw to make her lose what little faith she still held in others. If her spell hadn't worked and Glinda hadn't come to talk some since into her... Oz knows what may have happened to her sanity.

A sudden knock on the door caused Glinda to regain her perfect composure. She folded her hands neatly into her lap and sat up straight and attentive on the edge of her bed.

"Enter," she called, a welcoming smile falling effortlessly into place as one of her personal guards entered the room and bowed to the woman.

"Lady Glinda, Master Boq of Munchkinland requests a private audience," he reported. Glinda's smile brightened into true delight and she jumped up eagerly from her bed, only just remembering to hold herself properly as a lady and ruler should.

"Of course, see him in at once," she ordered, waiting until the guard had departed before letting out a childish squeal and bouncing on her toes, causing her ridiculously lavish rosy-pink gown to bounce along with her. Boq was still made of tin, but of course that didn't matter to her. He was a lovely conversationalist and complimented her fiercely, which she could hardly resist. He had become a trustworthy friend, though he still blamed himself for Elphaba. The good witch deeply wished she could pull him out of that self-loathing and finally tell him the truth, but for everyone's sake it was better to keep him in the dark. As far as Glinda knew, only Chistery still knew of her darling friend's whereabouts as he had been the one to deliver her letter all those years ago.

Boq was also useful in her reign. Every so often when he would visit, between their casual social remarks and his never-ending stream of "You look lovely today Miss Glinda," or, "Is that a new dress? It really brings out your eyes," he would bring her news of the underground network that spread throughout Oz. As fair and just a ruler as she was, there were always going to be those that disagreed with her methods and decisions. Oh sure, a few people or Animals here or there were hardly going to threaten her government, but when the numbers started to grow she had to put her feelings aside and take charge, putting the peoples minds at ease and extinguishing the problem the best way she saw fit. If she let such resistance grow, the people who defied her would soon realize that their numbers were great enough to take on the Gale Force and the witch, even with all her power. With Boq's help she could identify growing rebellion before it became a real problem and make sure things settled down before someone got hurt. While he may not have been the most inconspicuous person to be slinking through the shadows, hearing whispers here and there throughout the land, he knew where to look and who to talk to to get the information he needed. It also helped that few outside of the Emerald City knew of his association with the good witch.

Though it was a wonder how, considering how loud he was when he walked!

"Lady Glinda," he bowed to her as he entered the room, his joints squeaking as if he hadn't had a good oil in days.

"Master Boq," she curtsied, staying in character for another few seconds until she burst into a fit of giggles at their little game and ran as fast as her gown would allow to embrace him. He couldn't hug her back, not exactly, but he did wrap his tin arms around as best he could until she pulled back with a genuine grin on her delicate, picturesque face.

"Oh, it is good to see you again Boq!" she beamed, half-dragging him over to the gigantic couch that sat alongside the balcony, large enough to fit at least a dozen people with extra leg room. The two of them sat next to one another, the tin man stretching out his limbs after his long journey.

"It is wonderful to see you as well, Miss Glinda," he replied, that strange metallic smile appearing on his angular face. If it had been anyone but her closest friends, social etiquette would have required her to correct him in her title, but this was no formal meeting. This was two old friends from Shiz catching up (as well as exchanging valuable political information of any growing resistance).

"Would you like me to have a maid fetch you some oil?" she inquired, taking note of the thin lines of rust forming on his body.

"I'm afraid I can't stay for long," he explained, much to her disappointment. "I know it's been too long since we had time to speak as friends, but I must be off as soon as possible. I come to deliver some increasingly important news."

Glinda could sense something in his voice. An underlying tone of urgency, even... panic? Her brow scrunched in confusion and she nodded once for him to continue.

"Last we spoke, the underground resistance was waning in numbers. There were no more than a few hundred spread sparsely throughout Oz, mostly through the Vinkus and eastern Munchkinland, and hardly posing a threat to your rule. I was headed back to the Emerald City two weeks ago until I heard a rumour, just a whisper really. What caught my attention wasn't the usual talk of an attack or infiltration. No, I overheard a few Arjiki speaking of the Wizard."

Glinda's breath caught in her throat at the mention of the tyrant, the man who had driven Elphaba into hiding and destroyed the lives of so many innocent Animals. Few spoke of the man in the many years since his departure, at least when Glinda was around. She never painted him in a negative light in public, though she did make it clear on occasion that she thought many of his methods had been... dated.

"What were they saying about him?" she asked cautiously, even more worried than if he had told her there was an attack about to be launched.

"I know it sounds crazy, but... they were talking about him coming back. At least I think that's what I heard. I could have been mistaken!"

The witch visibly paled and she stood up on shaky legs, taking a few unsteady steps forward and beginning to carefully pace in front of Boq.

"Will Oz never be rid of that man?" she muttered, almost to quiet for the tin man to hear. She stopped after a few minutes, standing with her arms folded and tapping her perfectly manicured fingers against her left arm, all smiles gone and replaced by the serious and calculating gaze of a ruler. "Anything else?"

"I could only hear snatches of the rest of their conversation. I think they knew someone was listening. I heard them saying that his government needed to return for the good of Oz, or else..."

"Or else what?" Glinda nearly snapped, throwing her arms into the air and tapping her foot instead. Boq frowned but indulged her.

"Or else they would go ahead with the attack."

"The attack? You mean they already have one planned?"

"I don't know Glinda. I'm so sorry, but they left after that and I couldn't exactly follow them. There weren't enough people around to remain inconspicuous. I spent the next day around the outskirts of the Oakhair Forest before I started back here. I asked every person and Animal I met on the way if they had any clues, but they either didn't know anything or skirted around the subject and hurried away."

Glinda sighed, closing her eyes and pressed two fingers to each temple, taking several deep breaths. Boq watched with unfeigned interest as the ruler of Oz went through a complete outward transformation. Within thirty seconds she went from appearing stressed, anxious and many even panicked to peaceful and able to handle any news with a level head.

"Thank you for the information Boq," she acknowledged, going to meet him as he stood up to clasp his tin hands firmly. "Time and time again you've proven yourself to be a reliable friend and confidant."

With the serious issues out of the way, Glinda underwent another quick transformation, changing back into the girl he knew from Shiz with a bubbly smile and a hop in her step.

"I hope I can see you again soon!" she chimed, leading him to the door to embrace him one more time. "Ask the guard to swing by the workshop when he escorts you out and grab as much oil as you need, on me."

"Thank you for your hospitality Miss Glinda," he responded. "It is no wonder they always call you Glinda the Good."

"Oh stop it you," she giggled, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as to not cause her own hand any damage. "Goodbye for now, old friend."

With a final nod and bow, the tin man vacated her room and lightly closed the door behind him. It was only then that Glinda's entire facade dropped and she collapsed to her knees right there on the floor, running a shaky hand through her perfectly styled golden curls.

"Oh Elphie, I do wish you were here right now," she whispered, her eyes stinging with the tears that were beginning to form. "I don't know how much longer I can do this without you."