For disclaimer and other stuff, see part 1 and thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I am going to write a sequel sometime later this summer.

Epilogue

Part 4 (Arwen) 19 years later

She sat in her room at Shiz at the window, watching the sunrise that promised a wonderful day, another day without her parents. People she never personally met.

Her aunt Glinda had raised her. She had told Arwen stories about her parents and yesterday, finally the truth of her parentage.

Yesterday Arwen had found out that she was the daughter of the Wicked Witch of the West and the crown prince of the Arjiki tribe.

Aunt Glinda had told her to never forget who her parents were and that her mother had loved her very much. But it would be impossible for Arwen to forget her parents.

Yesterday she had been given a letter. A letter written by her mother, 19 years ago.

Arwen had read the letter enough times throughout the night she had already memorized every word her mother had written. Her mother. Arwen had never thought she would think of someone as her mother, let alone own anything that had belonged to her.

Arwen read the letter again out loud:

"My little Arwen,

By the time you will be able to read this letter, I will be long gone, dead. I am sorry that I won't be there to see you grow up. Don't think I didn't care for you or didn't love you. That's not the truth. But the circumstances in my life prevent me from being there for you. I guess you have already heard the stories of the Wicked Witch of the West. That's me, your mother. Please believe me that I only wanted to do good but every good deed was punished. I regret a lot of things I have done, but never loving you or your father. He was one of the few people who accepted me for who I am.

Arwen, never forget that not everything is what it seems to be. Believe only the things your heart tells you are right. I will never forget you and if you ever feel lonely or sad, look up to the western sky and imagine me flying through it. I will always be with you, in your heart and your memory.

Your mother,

Elphaba Thropp."

Arwen tried to imagine her mother and her father. She tried to imagine them being young and in love. She had never believed in fairytales, but somewhere deep inside her she knew that her mother had gotten part of a fairytale-ending. Her parents were reunited and living together in the afterlife.

She still remembered her aunt's words. "Your mother had been worried what would happen to you after her death. I believe she intended to send you to your grandparents, your father's parents. But when she realized that it was too late, she asked me to hide with you. I promised your mother to keep you safe and love you as my own."

She had started school as Arwen Upland but she was a Tiggular by birth. Glinda wouldn't be upset if she carried her father's last name from now on. It would only make her prouder then she already was. Arwen was sure about it.

As the very first ray of sunshine fell into her bedroom, her room was bathed in sunshine which reflected in the mirror.

She stood up from her place at the window and walked over to her nightstand. Arwen picked up a picture her aunt had given her of her parents at the age of 19. She was told that she had his smile, her mother's dark hair and his shining blue eyes.

She was like them, a bit of both of them, but she wasn't. Not really.

She was Arwen Tiggular, daughter of Elphaba Thropp and Fiyero Tiggular.

"I promise you, mommy and daddy, I will make you proud," she whispered, a single tear ran down her cheek.

With her head held high, wearing the ruby slippers who had once belonged to her aunt Nessarose, she walked out of her room. Today was her graduation day.

Today she would graduate from Shiz.

She, Arwen Tiggular, child of the Wicked.

The very end