Ok, guys, I am rather upset that the last chapter didn't get any reviews. What's up with that? I will be motivated to post more often if I get a little more feedback. I have up to Chapter Twelve written now, so the more reviews, the quicker the post. For those of you worried about Ayenna being a Mary-Sue, never fear! I wrote her that way on purpose, but after the next few chapters, she is going to change, majorly. Also, although this story started out being more musical-verse, it has changed as I have written it, and has become a healthy mix of book and musical. The characters, however, will continue being musical-verse.

Disclaimer: Stephen Schwartz and Gregory Maguire own Wicked, not me. (The lucky devils.)

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After the rewarding, if exhausting day at the paper, Ayenna headed back to the inn. She walked into the lobby where the receptionist was looking at a paper on her desk with confusion in her eyes.

"I think this is for you," she said a little shakily and handed Ayenna the paper.

Curious, Ayenna inspected the parchment. It was a letter. Her name was written in neat, flowing cursive in black ink on the front. She thanked the receptionist and headed to her room. As soon as she shut the door, she opened her letter like a child ripping into his presents on Christmas. She was not accustomed to getting mail, and the novelty excited her. She pulled the letter from the envelope, feeling the rough texture of the parchment. She read it through quickly, her breath catching in her throat more with every word.

Ayenna,

My darling Ayenna, not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you. Sixteen years of regret and remorse can be very taxing on a body. But I knew that I had made the right decision, despite the pain, and that kept me from going insane. Darling, if this letter fell into the wrong hands, I would hate to see what would happen, so I have put a spell on the letter so that no one but you can read it. To everyone else, it will just be a blank piece of paper. I suppose that I should tell you who I am. I am your mother. I have been in hiding since before you were born, and when I got pregnant with you, I knew that I had to give you a chance to live life. I did not want to raise you in some hidey-hole somewhere. You needed a chance to find yourself and be free. If you resent me for not contacting you sooner, I will not blame you. But I did not want to put you or your father and I in any danger. But I also knew that I had to let you know that I had not just died or forgotten you. Please understand, my love, that I have always watched you, and I love you more than you can imagine.

Your Mother

After reading the note, Ayenna felt as if she had physically lost her breath. She sank to the bed, clutching the letter to her chest and the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. But she could not let them fall. She never let her tears fall. After all, it just made her face sting for hours.

A few moments and several rereadings later, Ayenna was able to completely grasp the gist of the note. If what it said was true, she had a mother, and most likely her mother was a witch if she were able to put such a spell upon the letter. The letter also mentioned a father. Could it be true? Could her parents really both be living, just in hiding? It seemed rather far-fetched, but what would anyone hope to accomplish by making her believe she had living parents after all?

She rushed from her room, ran down the stairs at a breakneck speed and skidded into the lobby. Clutching a stitch in her side, she asked the receptionist, "Where did you get this letter?"

"Well…it…don't laugh, but I think it just appeared on the desk. One moment it wasn't there, and then, right before you came in a few minutes ago, there was a small 'pop' and there it was…like magic," the bemused receptionist answered.

Ayenna rushed back to her room without another word. For the millionth time in her life, her thoughts strayed to her mother and father; only this time, the hope that they existed was more than a dream.

Her thoughts were interrupted knock at the door. Ayenna looked up, startled, and went to open it. Out in the hallway stood a bundle of brown robes in a fairly humanoid shape, but it was rather puffy at the bottom. Ayenna wasn't sure if it was even alive until it moved. Someone had apparently gone out of their way to disguise themselves.

"Who are you?" asked Ayenna, not unkindly.

"Shhhh!" the figure hissed, "We can't talk out here!" and it pushed past her into her room.

Ayenna followed, thoroughly confused.

The figure seated itself and removed the layered hood. A glamorous face and golden curls appeared. Glinda, for that was who it was, grunted as she fought to get the rest of the cloaks off, finally revealing a pale blue puffy gown. That accounted for the bulging of the cloak at the bottom.

"Uh, not to be rude or anything, Miss Glinda, but, uh, why are you here?" Ayenna asked.

"Listen, I have been thinking about that day when I asked you about your heritage. I am fairly certain that my first assumption was right. I believe that you may be Elphaba's daughter indeed.

Ayenna opened her mouth to say something, but Glinda cut her off.

"But I am going too fast; let me explain myself," the Good Witch said breathlessly, "Elphaba and I went to school together and, although we had a bit of a rocky start, we ended up becoming the best of friends. Sadly, she died shortly thereafter…or, so I thought. But, just a few moments ago, I received a letter. I recognized the handwriting on it as Elphaba's instantly and opened it quickly. It said—oh, well, just read it," Glinda said, handing her an envelope that was identical to the one she had gotten except that the name on the outside was 'Glinda' instead of 'Ayenna.'

Ayenna pulled out the paper and read it quickly.

Glinda,

Oh Glinda! I have longed to tell you that I am alive for years, but I had to hide the secret in my heart for fear of discovery. But I cannot wait anymore. I cannot let the girl who used to be my best friend go on believing in my demise. Of course, I am sure that you have new friends now, and you probably don't even remember me, but I certainly remember you. Just know that Fiyero and I are alive and well. But please, Glinda, do not come looking for us.

Elphie

Glinda got teary-eyed as Ayenna read it out loud.

"Oh, Elphie is alive!" she said, "I just can't get over it. Now, as to why I am here: I think we should go find her together!"

Ayenna was shocked, but Glinda ignored her feeble attempts at words and plunged on, "Now, it is obvious where she is. After all, look at the paper. It has the coarse, brown texture of paper made in the Glikkus. It is impossible to get paper like this anywhere else."

"But how do you know that they didn't just travel through the Glikkus? They could be anywhere, and this paper could just be something they picked up while going somewhere else," Ayenna interjected, finding her voice.

"Well, I had thought of that, actually," said Glinda, "But look at the back of the letter—just there. Do you see that?"

Ayenna scrutinized the paper and found what the Good Witch was talking about. There, inscribed on the left-hand bottom corner was a miniscule emerald.

"The Glikkus is famous for its emerald mines," Glinda told Ayenna, "As it is obvious that Elphie doesn't want to be found, I guess that Fiyero had to have drawn that. He was always a bit of a rebel. It's simple, he wants to see us. Well, probably you more than me." At this last line, Glinda seemed to wilt a little.

"But, hang on, how do you even know that this Elphaba is my mother? I just received a letter too, from a woman claiming to be my mother. But she did not sign her name."

"Perhaps you should read it to me, dear," Glinda said.

Ayenna did as she was told, and when she had finished Glinda jumped up and down.

"You see! I told you! Look, the papers are exactly alike! And look, yours even has an emerald on it too! I was right! You are Elphaba's daughter!