I don't own Wicked.

Panting, Glinda collapsed onto the grass under a huge tree. Her arm burned where the dagger had scored. The branch cut on her cheek stung, as did the numerous stone bruises and scrapes on her bare feet from the flight. (Glinda had been forced to abandon her shoes because they slowed her down.)

Every bone in her body ached, her heart was racing and her head felt like someone had whacked it with a hammer. She had to get back...back to theEmeraldCity. But the grass felt so good, and she was so tired...

A quick nap wouldn't hurt, Glinda thought sleepily as she laid her head down and closed her eyes, heavy fingers of darkness trailing over her.

"Hey...hey, lady, wake up."

A voice was calling her. Glinda struggled through layers of sleep, fighting to open her eyes.

"Lady, are you okay? You look pretty beat up."

Blinking blearily, Glinda managed to focus her gaze on the speaker. It was a young boy, about eleven or twelve, with light hazel eyes and a mop of chocolate-colored hair. He was wearing the overalls of a farm boy but spoke like an educated citizen. "Where...where am I?" she managed to ask, trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain.

"You're in theBadlands. What are you doing all the way out here? Oz is that way." He pointed in a general northern direction.

"I...I was attacked. I barely got away..." Glinda shuddered as the previous night's events flooded back into her mind.

"That'd explain it. You look pretty awful." The boy rose from his kneeling position and offered her a hand. "C'mon, I'll take you home. You need a doctor—and probably some food, too."

Gratefully, Glinda took his hand and somehow managed to stand up. "Hey, lady, what's your name?" the boy asked as they set off at a slow pace.

"Glinda."

"Huh. That's kind of a pretty name. Well, nice to meet you, Glinda. I'm Liir."

Liir's house was a small but homey cottage that looked perfectly set in the woods. The young boy led her to the couch and sat her down. "Wait here, I'll go get Dad."

In the following silence, Glinda tried, rather unsuccessfully, to get the leaves and mud out of her hair. She was working on a rather stubborn clump of dirt when the back door creaked open and Liir's voice drifted through.

"...needs help, Dad; she's really beat up and seemed scared."

"I'll see what I can do." The second voice was male as well, although deeper and slower. Glinda frowned, unconsciously straightening. That voice...sounded familiar.

Then a man came into the room. When he caught sight of Glinda, he froze, eyes widening in shock. Glinda sucked in her breath, searching his face carefully as she slowly stood up.

Both adults stared at each other for a long, long time until Liir interrupted. "What's going on?" demanded the boy, anxiously looking from one to the other, neither paying him any attention.

Finally the man broke into a smile, although there were traces of apprehension and fear. "Hello, Glinda," he said softly. "It's good to see you again."

"Fiyero!"