A/N: Thanks for all the review guyz! Well, here you go ;) Half of this chapter was done in a hair salon...


She felt a sensation tremble through her body, a feeling as fervid as a flame, exactly like the loathing she'd felt towards Glinda when they first met. Yet, that had been a childish spite, this...this was ten times stronger, like a raging untamable fire.

She channeled this white hot energy to her hands, which burst into flames.

Glinda let out a scream, her wand dropping to the ground with a clatter as her hands flew to her agape mouth. "Elphie! Your hands are on fire!"

Elphaba smirked at the sight of the blonde's shock, despite how much of a ditz Glinda was being. It made her feel in power, in control.

Feels good, doesn't it? You have the potential to do whatever you want, Elphaba. People will have to succumb to you; you'll have all the power in the world.

It did feel good. It felt good to think that she beheld all the power, that no one could ever bring her down. She looked up at Glinda, who was beginning to inch back slowly, fearing her power.

Finish her.

She lifted the flames from her hands, letting the energy hover above her palms, shaping it into a ball of swirling fire. Glinda's eyes grew as wide as saucers, steadily reaching down for her wand.

Now!

With all her might, Elphaba hurled the flaming orb in the Good Witch's direction, relishing in her power as pure fear took over the blonde's facial features.

There was a loud bang, like the clash of thunder, as Glinda countered the fiery blast with a blast of her own magic. The sky lit up with blinding white light and a shower of sparks. With the collisions of such forces came the burst of released energy, and both witches were knocked off their feet, and sent sprawling upon the dirt ground.

Elphaba was the first to recover, leaping up in a boiling rage that her attack had failed. Her anger only fueled her with more energy to release against Glinda, who was busy picking herself up and releasing a series of squeals about dirt on her dress, and soon the Good Witch found a bombard of fireballs headed her way. She let out another shriek.

"Elphaba Thropp! I demand you to stop this madness immediately!"

"Or what?" fleered Elphaba, smiling crudely. "You'll encase me in one of your pink bubbles and float me off?" Her palm lit up once more. "I don't think so!"

She threw it at Glinda, and this time as the blonde countered it once more, a rouge spark hit the hem of her flouncy bubble dress, setting the material on fire. Glinda squealed in shock and - without first muttering a series of unpleasantries and complaints, this time about ash on her dress - hurriedly put out the flame before it could severely damage any more her beloved dress.

Elphaba would've used this distraction to finish Glinda off, if it weren't for the iron grips that found her arms. She struggled furiously, shooting flames from her fingers, but her captors were like and itch she could not scratch.

"Sorry we didn't get here sooner, Lady Glinda," apologized one of the guards, as they hurried over to help Glinda off the ground.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "You used Nessa's death to get to me?" Elphaba growled. "I never thought you'd sink so low, Glinda." The blonde could only cower behind a guard.

"I didn't know, Elphie!" she protested. "I swear - "

"There's nothing to swear about now, Glinda," the green witch snapped coldly. She now had a personal score to settle with the blonde. How dare she!

She felt her insides boil, and that similar sensation washed over her again. That sense of betrayal was overwhelming, and she wanted to kill Glinda more than anything now.

Do it! hissed the voice.

Elphaba obeyed, generating as much energy enough to wipe out the last living lights of Glinda the Good.

But she never released it.

She'd been on the verge of doing so, yes, but she never released it. The magic inside her just seemed to dissipate along with her rage, as a distraction came swinging in in a blur of green and gold.*

Fiyero, the daft idiot, had arrived.

Something stirred inside her. Him...the one who made Glinda push Boq away, the one whose misdeeds lead her to be blinded by jealousy...

He raised his musket.

"Let the green girl go!" he growled through gritted teeth. Elphaba felt the grips on her tighten uncertainly. Seeing that his threat was not taking the desired effect, he turned on Glinda instead. "Or let all of Oz hear about how the Gale Force stood back and watched as Glinda the Good was slain."

This time the grips on her loosened - not completely, but enough for her to break free. Fiyero glanced over his shoulder, their eyes locking for a moment. Elphaba stared into his sky blue eyes that shone like diamonds, and yet, she didn't feel that shiver of electricity run down her spine, instead, she felt...nothing. She could somewhat feel her inner feelings battling and struggling inside her, yet as the emotions counteracted each other, overall there was only...neutralism. How had that happened? Just maybe over an hour ago she'd given herself to him as to a husband, loved him like her life depended on it, kissed him with a passionate fire to feed her hungry soul.

Those same hands that had touched her now thrust her her broom and her hat. She heard him yell at her to go, and she felt herself object. But for what reason? His plan had been a spontaneous one, one sprung without forethought or hindsight. He was fighting a lost battle, a battle only one could survive. It was folly, and now Elphaba could see that Fiyero still hadn't escaped that impulsive, happy-go-lucky college boy.

And that's why you should leave him, sneered the voice, he isn't worth your time. Isn't worth our time.

And so she left. She ran, off into the dark forest, where darkness enclosed her, where blackness surrounded her, where she could wish futilely that her problems could just vanish and drown into the deep black ocean around her. With darkness and solitude came silence, and with no distraction or noise other than the buzz of night animals, she could hear her thoughts more clearly now. Yet, it was still like a torrent of miscible thoughts swirling around in her mind, a turmoil difficult to untangle.

Had she made the right choice? Should she have left Fiyero? No, no, no! Sweet Lurline, she'd made the ozdamn wrong choice! She could've gone down with him! She whipped out the Grimmerie, as her heart seemingly keeping time to the speed of sound. Her vision blurred by tears of desperation, she scourged the pages in a fervent madness, her breath coming out in shallow and hoarse gasps. Any spell...come on, anything...Eleka namen namen ah tum ah tum eleka namen...

Why bother, Fabala? Why waste your time on such trivial matters? You have greater things to achieve than saving one foolish prince. He made Glinda jealous, he prompted her to kill. He's a murderer.

No, no! Fiyero had sacrificed so many things for her: his job, his reputation, his love, his life.

He did it without thinking, didn't he? Didn't think of the consequences of his actions.

Elphaba continued chanting. She hadn't contemplated the consequences of her actions either when she defied gravity.

You did it for the good of Oz, he did it for his own selfish needs. He didn't care about Glinda right from the start, yet he let her continue with the falsehood and live under the prospect that she had his love. He hardly noticed you until the Lion cub incident, so wouldn't you say his love for you is infatuation? A passing affair? Won't you wonder, with all the different schools he's been to, how many girls he met? He only cares for himself and his impractical skintight pants. You just think you love him to satisfy the hunger of your weak heart.

Her chanting faltered to a stop. "I'm not weak!" she hissed.

Is that so? mocked the voice. Then why does Glinda still live? Why does that bratty Dorothy girl still have the shoes? Those were a gift from father! Those were MY shoes!

Something inside her snapped. All of a sudden she lost a control of her senses. She could see the dark forest around her, yet she could not feel the breeze brushing against her cheeks. She could see her limbs moving, yet she could not feel it. She could feel the raw, newfound, unnerving power churning and swirling inside her uncontrollably, being channelled to her palms, illuminating the forest in a blue orange glow. She felt herself falling, plunging into the deep abyss of her soul, a voice constantly whispering in her mind.

Go to sleep Fabala...I'll help you solve your troubles...go to sleep, and when you wake up...

No, on second thought, you not going to wake up...

You're mine now.

*Did Fiyero swing in on a vine? Cuz right now I'm just sorta wondering where you can find vines in a cornfield.


A/N: ...and the other half on the flight to London :] Yup, i'm finally in London, livin' a stone's throw away from Queens Theatre where Les Misérables is :D