Hey guys! Would you believe that this is the first Wicked/Rise of the Guardians crossover on this site? I'm obsessed with both so it had to be done! And I was going to write out all the chapters, then post them, but I realized this may be a very long story, and that might take a while... So PLEASE believe me when I say I won't take months to update! Hopefully no more than 2 weeks IF I'm highly busy, but I'll try for once a week updates.

I own none of the characters- neither Wicked nor Rise of the Guardians belong to me. I only own my pathetic writing!

Enjoy!

There were very few times that Morrible felt desperate.

She couldn't even remember the last time, to be honest.

But she was so desperate to capture Elphaba now—that little witch— that she was practically going crazy. They had almost gotten her at the engagement ball, they were so close, but the Captain of the Guard ran off and saved her. Nessarose had been accidentally crushed to death underneath a house—not like anyone missed her, she mused— in order to lure Elphaba out of hiding. And again, they almost had her. But what happened? Fiyero just had to swoop in and threaten Glinda's life and those damn guards just had to be so attached to the bubbly blonde that they let her go. They let her escape. And Fiyero? He had been suspended on the poles for hours, being tortured and abused for her location.

Did he give it up?

No of course not.

Back to square one on the witch hunt, no clues and no one to interrogate for her whereabouts. She was no longer at the animal camps and the unnamed god only knew where she was hiding.

So yes, Morrible was desperate to stop the green girl once and for all. But how? She wasn't sure.

Elphaba just seemed to keep melting out of their fingertips. Just when they thought they'd won, some way or another she escaped. She bested them. And now Morrible felt like she was being challenged.

She was the superior sorceress. Not some green disgrace. Although Elphaba hadn't accomplished her goal either—the Wizard was still not proven to be a fraud—she kept ruining everything. Everything Morrible planned was being thwarted by the Wicked Witch of the West and Morrible didn't care how, she just wanted to green girl gone.

How was she supposed to do this?

"Madame?"

The voice snapped her back to reality for a moment. She raised a brow and turned to face the boy in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"His Ozness sent me," he stated, smoothing his hand through his inky hair, "something about a new Captain of the Guard? My name is Shell."

Morrible put on a fake smile—but in reality her eyes were burning. She had told the Wizard about needing a new captain, since the former had run off with the Wicked Witch of the West. She so carefully had left out the part about him being tortured to death for her location, the Wizard had gone ballistic that she actually murdered Nessa, and warned her not to get anyone else hurt—or she'd spend a few years in the Southstairs.

He was so weak, she thought. This was much past non-violence, he needed to deal with the deaths like a true leader. He wanted Elphaba stopped? He had to think of more forceful methods to stop her, then.

But the Wizard couldn't deny they needed a new Captain. He told her that he had one member of the Gale Force, a twenty-eight year old man—named Shell. The Wizard said the boy never revealed his last name, but he had been working for the Gale Force for eight years now.

"Shell is qualified," he assured her, "you'll never find a better Captain of the Guard than him."

She didn't argue it—he was in charge after all—but she still wanted to meet the new Captain and discuss the plans. He needed to know what they knew, the basics of the job, and of course—who the enemy was, and that they needed to capture the Wicked Witch of the West. And let no one who stands in your way off the hook. Her own personal touch to the rule book, but it was a drastic situation now, after all.

She couldn't stop the frown curling her lips at the boy's brief—but terrified—expression when she revealed who the Wicked Witch of the West was. The look in his eyes was filled with denial and regret, almost brokenly. She'd definitely look into that later. Her explanation finished with a quick summary of why the needed a new captain, and Shell finally spoke after that.

"I see," he mused, brown eyes darkening as he replayed the explanation in his head. So Nessarose Thropp was dead? Elphaba Thropp was the Wicked Witch of the West, and the former Captain of the Guard ran off with her as her lover, and was tortured to death. He let go of the breath he didn't even realize he was holding, "And I suppose I will continue this hunt for the witch?"

"Yes. For the wicked witch."

He smiled, offering a small salute to her. "I will not fail you, Madame."

"You'd better not. Now go, dismissed."

He was out the door before she even blinked—and the moment it was silent she began to brood again.

She was going to capture that wretched girl one way or another.

Typical, she though bitterly.

Elphaba sat in the corner of the castle, staring out at nothing. Her vibrant brown eyes now dull and hazy—filled with the tears that she hated. Oz, how she loathed crying. It was weakness. And she wasn't weak. She was strong. She was the Wicked Witch of the West Oz sake!

A strangled sound escaped her lips—then again, that's why Fiyero was killed. She had lost so many people. Failed so many people. Nessa, Doctor Dillamond, Boq, her father, and now Fiyero. He was the latest victim of her long, long list of harm. She never meant for it to happen. He should have stayed with Glinda. He shouldn't have saved her. He shouldn't have run away with her.

He shouldn't have loved her.

But what could that change now? Now he was dead and Elphaba was alone. Her eyes finally focused on the monkey in front of her, his eyes soft with concern. She forced a smile, trying to reassure him. "I'm alright, Chistery. Just… in denial, I suppose."

He flapped his wings and shook his head, placing a paw on her shoulder. She felt tears prick her eyes and shut them—just as Chistery curled up next to her.

She wasn't alone, she chided herself. Since Fiyero's demise, the winged monkey she had come to adore had stuck by her. He was her companion—and Elphaba loved him for it.

"Thank you, Chistery."

He chattered something in response, and although Elphaba wasn't sure what it was, she smiled.

"Hey, Kangaroo, where're we going?"

"First off, Frostbite," the pooka groaned, hopping along the path, "I'm not a Kangaroo. Second, I nev'r asked 'ya to tag along with me. So shoo."

"Nah, I wouldn't dare deny you my company."

A huff escaped the Guardian of Hope as he rolled his eyes, continuing down the route. The winter teen raised a brow, "Seriously though, where are we going?"

"To the Pole."

"Why?"

The pooka pointed towards the aurora in the sky, a brow quirked. "Are ya' blind, Frost?"

He grinned awkwardly, "Oops? Just never saw the signal before." Bunny furrowed his other brow, "You've been a guardian fer' two years. How've ya' not seen it bef're?"

"He hasn't used it before?"

"If ya' say so, mate," the older guardian mumbled, knowing very well it hadn't been used, but not quite willing to admit it. There hadn't been an emergency worth the signal since Pitch's return two years ago. While Bunny had been thankful for the lack of danger, now he was concerned what it was about so soon.

"What's the emergency, anyway?" Jack mused, flying a little faster. Bunny matched his pace and replied, "I dunno, Frost. Haven' gotten there yet."

"Is Pitch back?"

Bunny snorted, "Doubt it. It'd take an entire nation of fear to bring 'im back so soon."

Shell squirmed under the blonde's gaze, "Why are you staring me down?"

"You're the new Captain?"

"Yes," the dark haired man replied, eyes narrowed. "And you are…?"

"Glinda the Good. Don't you know?"

"Never heard of you."

Of course he had heard of her—everyone had heard of Glinda the Good. Everyone. But Shell wasn't sure if he liked—or trusted— the girl or not, yet.

"I doubt that, Shell," she scoffed.

"So you know my name?" Shell asked, quirking a brow.

"Sadly, yes," Glinda groaned, looking away with a scowl. Shell glared—why'd she hate him already? "Are you mad because I'm replacing your former fiancée?"

"No. I'm mad because you think you can replace Fiyero. He was a good man," she stated plainly, but her eyes held a sadness that Shell assumed she had buried for a while. Before he could sympathize, she added on, "And you'll never live up to that." "He was a traitor," the man retorted, not appreciating her attitude, "he aided Elphaba in escape."

And suddenly Glinda's face, which was twisted into a scowl, turned into one of shock. "You… you know her name?"

"Nevermind," Shell hissed, realizing his mistake. No one could know the truth. He couldn't let anyone know. "Just forget it."

"No, how do you know her name," she demanded. Shell just shook his head, "I said forget it."

And before Glinda could pester further, he stormed off.

"Who're you?"

The golden eyes in the shadow seemed to grin. Morrible's face cringed into a scowl. "The person who will help you capture the witch."

"That's not what I meant. Show yourself at once."

And he did. The dark figure rose from the dark, shadowed corner, his skin dull and his eyes the same fierce gold. He grinned, "Better?"

"Much. What's your name?"

He purred out, "That's not important."

"It is unless you want me to call my guards," Morrible growled. The figure just laughed, "They're not your guards, Regina. They belong to the wonderful wizard. And they're not very good at capturing people, are they? Can't even capture the Wicked Witch of the West."

Now she was interested.

"How do you know that?" she questioned, raising a brow. His reply was simple, "Because you fear she'll never be captured. And I know people's greatest fears." With a sarcastic bow, he spoke up, "My name is Pitch Black. And I believe I can help you… if you help me."

"How so?"

Pitch grinned, "I can capture the green girl for you. In return—you use whatever sorcery you know to defeat my enemies."

Morrible huffed, "Who?"

"The Guardians."

"I've never heard of them," she stated, "Are they even from Oz?"

"No. I'm not from Oz, either. But I can get them here. And if you dispose of them… I'll handle your witch."

Morrible pursed her lips, considering his offer. "If I can get rid of your enemies, you'll get rid of Elphaba?"

"And I can give you power over this nation entirely."

She smiled—that sounded nice.

"Do we have a deal?"

He extended a grey hand towards her, and for a moment she hesitated. Weighing her options, she finally grasped his hand and shook it.

"Deal."

How was that? c: Reviewers will get virtual hugs!