For those who were wondering what Glinda found in the last chapter but refused to show Elphaba, here you go. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long to find out. :) Enjoy! And don't forget to review! :D

Elphaba was going to kill her for leaving her with her parents, Glinda thought as she glided across the courtyard toward the Wizard's throne room. Ironically, her parents weren't going to be in any real danger in the Wicked Witch's presence, but since her father and mother were a high-ranking Gillikinese soldier and high-strung socialite respectively, she couldn't say the same thing for Elphaba or Fiyero. As Glinda imagined it, she left behind a Winkie standoff that would only end once the willpower and relative civility of either stubborn party was abandoned. And poor, poor Dorothy! The child had enough problems.

But what she realized changed everything. It couldn't wait, no matter how unhappy her parents were, how agitated Elphaba was or how lovelorn her fiancé – ex-fiancé, she corrected herself sadly – was in their present company. They would deal and she knew she was absolutely doing the right thing.

The guards to the Wizard's throne room didn't even hesitate to open the doors or try to speak to her when they saw the Good Witch storm toward them, and for once she didn't even pause to thank them. Perhaps the strong anger she was feeling deep down was showing on her normally pleasant face and those scared guards did not want to risk directing it at them. Maybe they could see how both of her hands were clenched into fists, one of which was gripping a mysterious green object that was undoubtedly for the Wizard's eyes only. She could feel their stares following her down the hallway until the large doors banged shut once more, sealing her into this area of charades.

The walk down the corridor was long but it was one she had traveled countless times in the last couple of years. The sound of her heels clacking and echoing in the chamber gave her something else to focus on besides all of the stresses in her life that would only make her complexion worse if she continued to think about them: her failed engagement, how much Elphaba's ostracism had changed her since their days at school, her parents ill-timed visit and subsequent disappointment in her, how Dorothy was most likely permanently stranded in Oz and, of course, that darned guard who kept letting people up into her tower!

She felt ill-prepared for it all. Glinda always preferred the trivial things in life if only because they were easier. She was only beginning to understand that ignoring the hard stuff only made things more difficult later on. It hurt her heart to think about everything Fiyero told her yesterday, including how he was done living the one-dimensional life and he knew she was tired of it too. If only she had given up on those petty pleasures a little bit sooner, perhaps he would have loved her more and then maybe, just maybe, he would have chosen to be with her in the end.

She truly loved him so much. Whether she was in love she wasn't sure, and that seemed to be the sort of thing that a girl like her should know. The last few days she spent a great deal of time ruminating her experiences with Fiyero and comparing them to the great loves she read about in literature or Ozmopolitan, wondering if what she experienced was a romance worthy of retelling or if it was only one of convenience and comfort. Still, she had been delighted at the idea of marrying him, not just because of his title or attractiveness or reputation, but because she couldn't imagine her life without him. He was her anchor of reality in a world of polish and lies.

In some ways, his betrayal hurt even more because he chose someone for whom she also cared deeply. It meant that she shouldn't hate him so much. To make it even more challenging and confusifying for her, while Glinda had the world, what did Elphie have? As much as it made her heart ache to accept, Elphie needed him more than she did.

All she ever wanted for Elphaba was to be loved, for she knew how wonderful being popular and appreciated could be. She took for granted her own beauty, not realizing until after she saw how others treated Elphaba why life was so much easier for her. It changed her perspective and made her appreciate how hard Elphaba had worked at Shiz, since she was obviously not as attractive as Glinda, to be recognized for things she deserved. Unfortunately, it also caused Glinda to question the love people had for her, for what had she ever done in her life to be given so much? Nothing. Nothing but ride on the Elphie's coattails with the willingness to constantly lie and use her bright smile for personal gain.

Watching Elphie struggle the last few days made her think deeply about the unfulfilled life she chose to have and of all the mistakes she had made to keep it. She may have been called Glinda the Good but she knew she wasn't truly doing much of that. It seemed that out of the two of them, it was the one labeled "Wicked" who was the only one actively trying to make good. In contrast, she chose to point and call names at the best friend she had ever had just so she could finally have and keep her fame.

But what really upset Glinda most of all at the moment was how the Wizard – who claimed to be a "good" man – could have let so many bad things happen: to her, to Fiyero, to Nessarose, to innocent Dorothy, and most importantly to Elphaba, who had adored him so!

Elphaba was always skilled at pretending she didn't care about things but Glinda knew better, even before she learned Elphaba's most precious secret following the dance at the Ozdust. She held back tears as she gripped the cold glass object tighter in her hand, hoping that Elphaba would never figure out the truth about it as she had. Despite her resilience, Glinda knew deep down this was the kind of thing that not even Elphie could handle. So, Glinda decided, she would handle it for her.

She could hear the Wizard's unusual accent and Morrible's screechy voice mixing and alternating from halfway down the lengthy hall. It seemed that they were boorishly discussing their most recent appointment (or so Glinda assumed, having heard the words "heart" and "courage" thrown around like they were ridiculous things), apparently uncaring that they had let the young farm girl leave them in utter despair.

Glinda stepped from the shadows as quietly as her heels would allow and waited to be noticed. She was close enough to the throne that she could see Morrible's thinning hairline and the crisp lines of the Wizard's velvet suit but not too close for fear that they would sense her nerves.

It was Morrible who saw her first.

"Ah! Glinda! I thought you would be out festivating the recovery of your fiancé and the melting of your rival!" Morrible crooned cheerfully. Her lingering pleasure following Dorothy's traumatizing visit was palpable, and if not for Glinda's self-discipline she might have said something unmannerly.

In the last few days more than ever, it had been hard enough not to give them a piece of her mind regarding Elphaba. It was thanks to Morrible's and the Wizard's greed, after all, that Elphaba Thropp hadn't lived a proper life since the day the two young women first stepped foot in here. She spent years sleeping in the dirt amongst the insects with no one to love her but Animals, who were also suffering from continually worsening hygiene. The very thought was enough to make Glinda shudder with rage and digustification.

She gladly disregarded Morrible's attention in favor of the Wizard's. She held out the bottle she held for him to see, pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

"This was Elphaba's," she told him, her voice shaking as much as her outstretched hand as she spoke.

The Wizard's white smile fell behind his mustache and he slowly sat up in his chair. "What's that you say?"

"It's a keepsake. It was her mother's, she told me so herself. I've only seen another green bottle like this one other time, right here. You offered me a drink from it."

Glinda may have been pretentious but she was no fool, and she knew the Wizard was no different. She knew he would understand as she did that if Elphaba and he both owned one of these rare bottles it was no mere coincidence. She felt her chin tremble as she watched the old man approach, waited for him to take the bottle from her and figure out the truth that it held: that he was responsible for the death of his own child.

"This…was her mother's?" he said weakly, pointing to it. His eyes – which she noticed for the first time resembled Elphaba's – were wide and frightened like a little boy's as they moved from it to Glinda, who simply nodded. Her expression was as remorseless as she felt, even when he took the bottle and stumbled slightly, a hand reaching into his coat pocket to pull out its identical twin. She could see the tears filling his eyes and hear emotion crack at his voice as he said, "Oh, my lord— I am a sentimental man, who always longed to be…a father…"

And all Elphaba wanted was someone to love her and accept her as a father should. Yet now he was reaping what he had sown when he had allowed a youthful, optimistic young girl become a fragile shell of her former self when he could have embraced her as the daughter she truly was. And now – as far as he knew – it was too late.

She let him sob and fall devastrated to the floor, even as Morrible's screech filled the room. "So that's it! That's why she had such power! She was a child of both worlds!"

Glinda, her hands clasped behind her, continued to watch the man as he mourned at her feet. It hadn't been enough for him that the innocent villain he had created had died tragically; in his selfishness, the only thing that made him lament for any of his evils was that he had fathered that girl. It reinforced her vehemence and she spoke down to him with the dominance she now knew she inarguably possessed, "I want you to leave Oz. I will make the pronouncement myself: that the strains of Wizardship have been too much and you are taking an indefinite leave of absence. Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes…" he murmured thickly as tears rolled down his beet-red cheeks and past his large collar. He rose unsteadily to his feet, his head still bowed in the shame he deserved. "…Your Goodness."

With that final acknowledgment of her title, she decided end this display of emotion before he dribbled saliva on her new shoes. "You'd better go get your balloon ready." She watched him go, a feeling of strength filling her in a way she had never experienced before because it was never something she had properly earned. She used it to project her voice: "GUARDS!"

"Glinda dear…" Madame Morrible began meekly as the soldiers she passed on her way in bounded down the corridor toward them in haste. "I know we've had our miniscule differentiations in the past…"

Glinda's veins pumped with power at this, for it was clear Morrible understood: with the Wizard gone, it was Glinda who stepped into his place. What provided her the most personal pleasure was that Morrible had arranged for it; while the woman could not take the throne herself, she had obviously unwisely trusted that Glinda was just a small-minded, easily manipulated rich girl who could be her puppet. But Glinda wasn't just a pretty face.

"Madame, have you ever considered how you'd fare? In captivity?"

"What? I don't—"

"Cap-tiv-i-ty! Prison! Personally, I don't think you'd hold up very well." It was with great satisfaction that Glinda then used the press secretary's own words against her: "'My personal opinion is that you do not have what it takes. I hope you prove me wrong; I doubt you will.' Guards! Take her away!"

Glinda could feel the adrenaline pumping within her long after the guards carried Morrible off and her screams faded away, but when the high finally ended her heart continued to race. The weight of what she just did was not lost on her and she was more scared than she ever had been before.

All of her life the Wizard was there, running the country. Even now she couldn't imagine an Oz without him. But thanks to her that was now a reality, and even more frightening was that the honorary title she had been given meant that she was left Oz and all of its problems. She turned her head and stared at the throne with wide eyes, wondering where she would possibly start. At the moment, she couldn't even handle the people she left in her tower—

Oh no, Glinda thought with a gasp, having almost completely forgotten about the mess she left behind in her guest bedroom. As much as she was afraid of the responsibility of Oz, she was willing to try to live up to her name and make some good in it however she could, but everything she had just done would be completely in vain if things got too out of her control at home. She sprinted out of the throne room as fast as her heels and skirt would allow and made for the North Tower, hoping that she wasn't too late.