For disclaimer and other stuff, see part 1 and thank you for all the wonderful reviews.

Chapter 7

The days went by until nearly a week had passed.

Elphaba woke up on the floor, again. She had spent hours on her knees again, praying. For the first time in her life, no for the second time, she had prayed to the unnamend goddess, begging her to keep her child safe. She had been praying since the monkeys had arrived together with Dorothy four days ago.

She knew that her end, her death, was near. Everything would be over and she would be together with Fiyero at last.

All those sleepless nights, the times she had been praying or pacing around had taken their toll on Elphaba. She was slowly going mad. But who wouldn't in her current situation?

It had been one hell of a year for her.

First confronting the Wizard and running away with Fiyero, then, the next day Nessa was dead, crushed by a house. And Fiyero, who tried to save her from the Gale-Force was captured, dragged away and probably killed the very same day. Nine months later she had given birth to a beautiful baby-girl, already knowing that her life would soon be over and she wouldn't be able to see her daughter grow up.

Arwen had been the one keeping her sane and the mere thought of loosing her daughter was enough to make her go mad. Elphaba had only wanted to do good in her life but it seemed no good deed went unpunished. She had promised to herself nearly a year ago to never try anything good anymore. She had decided to give Oz what it wanted: a Wicked Witch.

Elphaba was destined to be unhappy for the rest of her life, a life that would soon end. There would be an celebration in all of Oz, the celebration of her death.

She could already see the witch-hunters walking towards the castle in the distance. She had maybe a day, maybe only a couple of hours until everything would be over, no more than that.

Elphaba had a feeling of foreboding. She felt she wouldn't be able to watch the next sunrise, to be alive the next day, tomorrow.

She needed to get Arwen to safety. But she was selfish. She wanted to keep her daughter by her side until the last minute, until it was nearly too late.

During the night she had finished the letters she had intended to write, one for Fiyero's parents and one for Arwen, when she was older, explaining everything. The letters where tucked away in the blanket she had wrapped Arwen in.

Elphaba had already told Chistery that he would have to take Arwen and fly her to Fiyero's parents when the witch-hunters entered Kiamo Ko. She just hoped that it wouldn't be to late. If the witch-hunters entered the castle, they would not only kill her but Arwen too, if she was still there. She had to keep her child safe.

Sighing she stood up. Her hair had come loose from it's strict bun and was hanging in her face. She didn't care if it only added to the picture of a mad witch. She didn't care anymore about her appearance.

It was time to talk to Dorothy.

The girl was still locked in a room. Elphaba had only opened the door to place something to eat and drink inside the room, twice each day. In fact, sometimes she had forgotten the girl. While praying she hadn't thought about her prisoner. Yes, Dorothy Gale, the so-called saviour of OZ, was the prisoner of the Wicked Witch of the West.

Elphaba laughed, no, it was more a mad cackling then a laugh.

Time to face the girl. Time to get the shoes.

"Hello Dorothy. I came to talk to you about stealing the shoes of a dead woman," Elphaba said as she entered the room.