"Will she be okay?"

She hadn't dared to ask before, for fear of what the answer might be. But now, with the Doctor kneeling before her and the furrows of his forehead lessened, she knew it was safe to ask.

"That depends." Was the simple reply, the doctor's attention on Glinda's hands. He had already used some strange mildly stinging concoction on them, and was now wrapping in a similar – though far more professional manner – as she had done for Elphaba only a few days prior.

"Depends?" Her voice was soft, the words barely whispered.

Whispered not just due to the returning pain of concern for the other woman, but also due to whatever it was the Ape had put on her hands – he had insisted it would help in the long term, though that did not help her cope with it as it was supposed to.

"Damage comes in many forms, and the physical may not always heal to the point people would prefer."

Glinda nodded, not entirely understanding his words, she put that down to just how tired she was. With the windows still covered she had no idea as to just what time it was, let alone anything else of little importance.

"There," he said as he leant back, "Try not to strain them, they will heal better that way."

He dropped his head in an attempt to meet her eyes.

"And do remember to rest and eat."

Glinda parted her lips to comment on how exactly she was expected to eat if she had to be careful with her hands, when he gestured to the half full plate to her side containing buttered crackers.

After he had finished treating Elphaba he had insisted on her eating before he would look at her hands. She had required help, which she was not prepared to ask for, let alone allow; but he had offered so kindly, and it would be impolite for her to refuse.

Being fed by another had made her feel like an infant again, it was not something she was keen to repeat. Ever again.

"I am fine, thank you."

He looked to her left, his eyes squinting at the pile of sheets and furs they had pulled of the bed and dumped in the corner.

"Rest," he gestured aimlessly, "Go find a bed and have a good rest. I will monitor things here and come get you if anything… happens, not that I think it will."

Glinda's head dropped forward, her chin low. She was tired, the impact of the events of the day rested heavily on her shoulders, pushing her down.

She needed to stay there, but she also needed to rest.

She was no fool; she knew what a lack of sleep could do to a person's mind. Look at… well, look at how Elphaba was – had been behaving, she claimed she could not sleep, had not done so for a long while.

"I… I can't just leave her," she mumbled more into her chest than to the Animal knelt before her.

"I will be watching over her," he stressed gently, repeating what he had said before in his effort to get her to rest.

She shook her head slowly, both due to the lack of her energy and in an effort to avoid worsening the pain in her head.

"Well…" He said with a long, drawn out hum, "I cannot force you, though I should advise that resting here will no doubt cause an ache in your back, among other things."

"I need to stay here," she confirmed, pressing the tips of her fingers lightly to her forehead, scrunching her eyes up in her exhaustion.

The doctor nodded, patting her softly on her upper arm, before pushing himself up to his feet. She was unsure how he could have stayed on his knees, hunched forward for so long. Not just with her, but when he had been treating Elphaba, which naturally had taken much longer.

The rug muffled his heavy footsteps as he headed towards the door, "I will be back shortly, I am just going to update the others and get a bite to eat – to bring back here of course."

Glinda's response was sluggish, her head still hanging low. It occurred to her now that the doctor had worked for a long time with no rest, nor a break for food or water. He would likely need a rest to, but he was sacrificing it to keep an eye on both of them. She would need to thank him, properly, somehow.

He had, after all, quite likely saved Elphaba's life.

Yes. She needed to find some way to thank him, she just did not know how at that moment.

She fought against a large yawn, blinking slowly.

Soon sleep found her.

"Dorothy has brought you breakfast."

Glinda, for once in her life, did not care that she was not presentable – nor even what image she was putting across. Instead she snuggled deeper into the blankets she had draped over herself to get her through her rest. She stayed buried beneath them for a short moment, before she sighed, pushing them off her, allowing the air that felt chilled to her skin to fully wake her. She knew it was only the blankets upon her and the warmth they absorbed that had made the room feel cool, the fire was still roaring, she could only assume the doctor had stoked it and added some more wood during her sleep.

"She, umm…" The Scarecrow scratched at his chin, his eyes shooting up and focusing as if he were trying to see his own forehead, "Doesn't want to come in though, but she still wanted to bring it to you, but as such you will have to go out to fetch it, of course."

Glinda rubbed at the corner of her left eye with her knuckle, it was too early to deal with the Scarecrow's jumbled manner of speaking. She stood to retrieve the food she did not want to eat even as she said, "Why did you not bring it?"

"Oh…" The Scarecrow replied, his painted on, yet moving eyes, dropping to her face, "I didn't think."

The throb in her hands was enough of a distraction that she did not give in and mutter about the man's (or whatever he was) stupidity.

She stopped before the door, turning to check Elphaba who still slept soundly. She did not wish to leave her side and had to tell herself, over and over, that it would be only for a moment. Then she would be back. Nothing truly dreadful could happen in such a short space of time, could it?

Well, considering how things had been going lately, she could not be entirely certain of that particular thought.

Still, she had to be brave. She opened the door, exiting into the corridor with the Scarecrow following. Upon seeing Dorothy he immediately closed the door behind him.

The girl stood there, a tray clutched between her hands, she straightened her arms, gesturing for Glinda to take it. Glinda did so, hiding a wince of pain, surprised when she saw that the food on there was cooked meat and eggs. She had no idea where that had come from.

"Thank you," Glinda said with a smile, assuming that the girl had cooked the food herself. Glinda turned to return to her room, only to be stopped in her tracks when Dorothy spoke.

"The others have been talking, and they think it best we return to the Emerald City as quickly as possible. Just in case anything..."Dorothy's brow furrowed, looking so much like the child she was rather than the mature young woman she tried to act like, "… happens." She finished, looking rather lost at just what those words could mean.

In truth, Glinda was not sure what the girl's friends meant either. What she did know however, where the words reminded her of her abandoned duties.

They were not the only ones that needed to return to the City.

Who knows what had occurred during her time away? For all she was aware there could be a large pile of letters demanding her urgent attention, regardless of her telling Genfee she had default her duties to him while she was away on 'other business'. The conflict she had seen in the library square may have spread and grown while she was away, or perhaps the Wizard had repressed all such behaviour with severity.

The group would no doubt walk, as they had to arrive there, despite the snow that still lay thickly on the ground. The caravan Glinda had taken there would not return until long after the winter had passed, so there was no way to return that way.

For some reason her mind flickered back to Dorothy's mention of the spell on her shoes. Glinda had thought of it as a travelling spell of sorts, perhaps there was a spell that could aid in travel. That could help her return to the City quickly, for she needed to return before the group did so that she could see as much of the events that were to take place as possible. To ensure her plan came to the needed conclusion.

She would have to look into her idea later on, when her mind was calm and she had more time, even if time was of the essence.

"Have you retrieved the required objects yet?" They could not forget them; if they did it could possible make what was to occur far more difficult.

Dorothy looked to her shoes for a moment, her teeth peeking out to bite at her bottom lip, "I did not want to go back into that room, not again."

Glinda shifted the tray in her hands, not caring that the contents were cooling rapidly or that the action caused twin shootings of pain up her arms, "I can understand that." She tilted her head to meet Dorothy's gaze, encouraging her to raise her head, "Do not blame yourself Dorothy."

The girl gave a little nod of her head, her lips curling into the soft smile that always seemed to be in place, "I will go see what I can find now, but… well I do not know what is unusual here or what is not. And I rather not be on my own in there."

Ah, that was right wasn't it? Dorothy claimed to be from a land outside of Oz.

"I will help." The Scarecrow walked to Dorothy's side with long, unnecessary strides if he were a man, "I am sure I could tell what is unique and what is not, and being there will mean you are not alone, even more so when you get Toto."

"Bring me the book though, I will ensure it does not fall into the wrong hands."

Dorothy jerked her head in a nod, her expression determined, "Of course, Miss."

Glinda shifted again, risking balancing her tray on one arm and intensifying the pain it caused, so she could place her free hand on Dorothy's shoulder, giving her a brief, comforting squeeze before retreating swiftly.

"Remember to find Locasta, and if I do not see you again in my right mind, in case I forget to say it, know that you. All of you." She directed her words to the Scarecrow for he was the only one of the group present, "Are good people, and you already have what you seek. And Dorothy…" The girl perked up, a tapping sound catching their attention as they turned to see Toto making his way to Dorothy's side. Glinda waited for her to scoop the dog up in her arms before finishing her sentence, "You will find your way home, I promise you."

The girl's eyes shone as she smiled and moved past Glinda with the Scarecrow at her side and dog in her arms.

It was a bit of a challenge to open the door, one she managed to conquer after a few short moments. The least she could do was to attempt to eat the by now cold food on the tray.

It was only as she sat down in her chair and began to eat, that she was aware of just how much she had strained her healing hands, whimpering as she attempted to eat with cutlery. It had not occurred to her that the light, though burdensome, tray would cause such a significant impact.

It did not take her too long to eat her breakfast, though of course it took much longer than it would have if she was in the best of health.

Finished, she set the tray down on the dresser near the fire, casting her eye over Elphaba while worrying her bottom lip.

Clearly, from what the Scarecrow had said and the faint sunlight that filtered through the windows in the corridor, it was the morning. She should not be that concerned Elphaba had yet to wake, yes she was an early riser, but she had been through a traumatic experience.

Well… they all had, but still, her point remained, even if it only existed in her effort to control herself and prevent tears from falling.

She neared the bed, hesitating there in her attempt to stop herself from touching the damaged face of the woman she loved. Instead, she reached into the gap between dresser and bed, retrieving the bag from there with a barely concealed whoosh of pain from her lips. She had grown used to the weight of the book, but now with the wounds on her hands still fresh, it felt so much heavier and tugged painfully at her healing skin.

It was foolish really, she had never truly been a believer in old legends or religions as a whole, but even so she retrieved the Pfenix figure from in the bag. A smile found its way to her face as she looked at the gift from the Whittler, pressing the exposed tips of her fingers to her lips and then to its head. She placed it on the now clear bedside table, shifting it slightly so it faced the bed, as if it were looking over the occupant. Satisfied with the placement, she bowed her head and uttered some long, almost forgotten words from her youth.

A silly belief perhaps, but one she was willing to open her mind to in such a troublesome time.

There she remained and it remained, two silent guardians.

Elphaba had still not woken by the time the Scarecrow knocked on the door again, beckoning Glinda outside to retrieve the other book. Dorothy's cheeks were flushed as she handed it over. The Scarecrow clutched the scorched broom in one hand and a foreign bottle with a minimal amount of liquid contained within in the other.

Their goodbyes were short, but not tense, Glinda clutching the book to her chest much as she often did with her own. All that she had wished to tell the group she had already said, though she did wish to say her goodbyes to them all. Unfortunately, she could not afford to wander too far from the room, nor could they truly afford to waste any more time moving about the castle saying their own goodbyes.

She insisted they take as much as they could possibly need, with far fewer people in the castle they could chance giving away a good portion of food, and really out of the group only three required food. And one of those three was a dog surely used to scraps.

She also told them that if they required extra clothing for warmth through the snow in the mountains, that they could take any spare clothes that they could find.

Naturally, Dorothy politely declined, but upon Glinda's repeated insistence she gave in. Or so Glinda hoped. She had grown rather fond of the group, and she would truly hate for anything to happen to any of them. And not just because that would affect her plan.

She could have tried to reverse the spell and taken the shoes from Dorothy, given them to Elphaba and ended her obsession. But that would have been feeding the madness wouldn't it? Rewarding the time she spent being harassed by the insanity that had seized her in a choking grip.

No, Glinda had decided, that would be a terrible mistake.

Now, it would be best for them to disappear entirely, never to be seen again. And with that in mind she had hatched a plan of sorts and informed Dorothy of it. If she was to return home she would take them with her, or dispose of them on the way.

One day, she hoped to repay the members of the group that remained in Oz. For if Dorothy left she would sadly never be able to repay her. All of them had aided in some way, she owed them a large debt. One she could not be certain she could ever truly repay.

They left when the hulking form of the doctor approached. The Ape opening the door and ushering her in.

She stood a few steps behind him, after placing the book in the bag with her own. She fidgeted with her fingers as he ran through what she assumed to be the usual checks required in such situations.

"There is not much more I can do until she wakes now," he said finally, standing back to his feet and turning to face her, "There may be permanent damage to her eye, possible blindness and scarring."

"Blindness in just that eye?" She asked, not sure if she could cope with such a change. Not sure if Elphaba could cope with being unable to read, that was one of the activities that calmed her the most so long ago.

The doctor – who she only now realised she did not know the name of – nodded, "Your hands may also be permanently marred."

The Glinda of old would have broken then, balling her fists and screaming with horror. The Glinda that existed now merely nodded her acceptance. It was a small price to pay if her actions had indeed saved Elphaba's life. Gloves existed for a reason.

"Why did you help? Not that I am not thankful," she stressed the addition to her sentence, her eyes widening before she added, "There are many who would refuse."

"I do not mean to sound like I have a large ego," the doctor began, rubbing at his hairy chin with a large hand, "but I am a logical person, I believe in observing all sides of an argument before coming to my conclusion. And logical I have been in this case. Both sides have appeared to have done wrong, and so I have chosen no side, though I display a preference for one. The one who has done more 'good' though their methods may have been extreme. A preference, but not a side." He finished with another tooth bearing smile, the dark skin besides his eyes crinkling, "Something I am sure you have done also."

Glinda was not entirely sure she understood what he was suggesting, but perhaps that was only due to the exhaustion of her mind.

"She will be fine, in health, that is, she will live." He said as he walked forward, knuckles brushing the floor as he hunched over for a moment, "I will be back when she wakes."

He straightened up, pressing a supportive hand on her shoulder, naturally she was dwarfed by it, the sight of which was more than a little frightening. He gave a surprisingly light squeeze before leaving the room.

Considering how much of a gossip she was, it was shocking that Nanny only arrived to see what was happening much later on.

She tutted at the sight of Elphaba, shaking her head as if she expected this very thing to happen. She stood there as Glinda shifted in her chair, idly wondering if she should move for Nanny to sit.

At long last, after much staring and head shaking, Nanny spoke, "That monkey got in the pantry."

"What?" Glinda exclaimed, of all the things she expected the woman to say, that was most definitely not one of them.

"The small one, not the big one," Nanny supplied unhelpfully.

Gritting her teeth at the old woman, Glinda busied herself looking over the bandages on her hands, trying to not let the woman's apparent lack of care bother her.

Nanny huffed in annoyance at her, making Glinda raise her eyes, her irritation apparent. Glinda spared a glance to the still slumbering Elphaba before fully acknowledging Nanny.

"Where were you when it all happened?"

It was an obvious question, and yet one she had not asked of Dorothy's group when really she should have. It was only an assumption on her part, but the group had been at breakfast with Nanny, it was only logical they had all been together when whatever had happened had, well, happened.

"Got locked in the kitchen, didn't we?" She motioned with her head to Elphaba, the sight of which caused Glinda's heart to clench painfully, "Nanny guesses it was this one's doing."

Glinda lifted her shoulders in an undignified shrug, "I can only assume so."

Nanny caught sight of some of the few remaining crackers from the day before, eyeing them greedily as she subtly moved towards them.

"I assume the others have gone?"

Nanny hummed her confirmation, plucking at the edge of a cracker. Glinda rolled her eyes.

"Where's the servant boy?" She asked, he was the only member of the household she had not seen since the whole event had happened.

"Oh him? He went off with that girl and her odd friends, I suspect he'll be back some day, they always come back."

Well, that was rather foolish of him, not that she said that out loud. A young boy left to his own devices in the City, with no money or means of support would not end well. She could only hope the remainder of Dorothy's group looked after him.

Nanny grabbed another cracker.

"You can have them," Glinda said, finishing of her sentence with a sigh.

Nanny grinned gummily, seizing the plate and charging towards the door without so much as a thank you.

"Thank you, Nanny."

The old woman grunted, disappearing out the door with a muttered goodbye.

Glinda stood, dusting at her skirts lightly with her hands, before crouching before the fire. She risked her hand to grab the nearby poker to stoke the fire until it crackled and spat with heat.

But there was something beneath the sounds.

Her head shot up.

A groan.

Yes, she had definitely heard a…

"Elphie?" She asked hopefully, jumping to her feet far too quickly causing her head to spin.

"What…"

Hearing that word, and now seeing the fluttering of the woman's eyelashes brought a smile to Glinda's face. A broad smile, which tugged too hard at her cheeks, but one she would not let fall no matter how awkwardly it made her face and wounds ache.

"You're awake." Glinda's voice was filled to the brim with relief. She made her way to the side of the bed swiftly, seizing a bottle containing water as she did so.

It was not a shock when Elphaba attempted to push herself up, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You should be resting," Glinda insisted, risking pressing her hand lightly against Elphaba's shoulder in order to get her to lie down again, or at least only have her head raised, something Elphaba clearly wanted. So naturally, Glinda shifted the pillows beneath the woman's head until she could do just that.

Elphaba's eyes were far wider than Glinda had ever seen them, almost childlike in a way. It was concerning, but a concern that soon vanished as Elphaba's fogged eyes seemed to focus. The woman blinking slowly before turning to look at Glinda head on.

"Do you remember…" Glinda trailed off, prompting Elphaba to say something. Anything.

"Of course." Elphaba growled out, not out of anger, but due to the dryness of her throat.

Glinda offered the bottle in her hand to Elphaba, stopping at the last moment when she remembered just what was in it. She would have to get her some tea, or something – she could drink that, if she remembered correctly, despite the water content.

"Stay there." Glinda levelled her gaze at Elphaba, putting as much authority in to her tone and her form as possible. Judging from Elphaba's expression, one of reluctant obedience, she knew she would not move. It was a relief in a way, for that was such an Elphaba expression, one she had not seen for so long that it made her heart soar, "I'll be back as quickly as possible."

And she was, somehow managing to make the run to the kitchen in her heels and skirts and pained limbs. She saw no one on the way, made a pot of tea and carried it and a cup in her hands despite the pain it caused, and returned in a matter of moments.

She presented a full cup to Elphaba, placing the teapot on the dresser, and the other woman grabbed the cup none too gently from her hands, drinking from it greedily even though it was surely too hot.

Glinda waited, pouring Elphaba another drink when she finished the contents of the cup.

"Can you see properly?" Was Glinda's tentative question once Elphaba was no longer drinking, but rather looking at her hands, taking in the scarred skin there.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The doctor said that you may lose sight in the eye that took more, um, damage."

Elphaba squinted at her words, visibly wincing when the motion pulled painfully at the aforementioned eye.

"I am not wearing an eye patch."

It was Glinda's turn to look baffled, "What?"

"Covering the eye can help it heal," Elphaba explained like it were something ever one should know. It would seem that the events were enough to distract Elphaba from what had incited her rage the day before. Or perhaps she was simply confused. Which, honestly, was expected.

"The Wizard won't bother you again; you don't have to worry any more about that."

This was quite likely Elphaba's first decent rest in a long time, and quite likely (and hopefully) the explanation for the clarity in the other woman's eyes, and the sense she was making. Now if only Glinda could get her to sleep regularly, then perhaps the Witch would be a long forgotten memory – or nightmare.

It was wrong of her, she knew, to think of The Witch and Elphaba as separate entities, but if it helped her to cope with things than she would continue to do so.

"They have gone?" Elphaba's lips curled down, showing a glint of teeth, surely not comfortable for her considering the damage to her face, "Taken what is rightfully mine?"

Glinda bit back her disheartened sigh, instead trying to steer away from the exact source of Elphaba's rising anger, "They do not take the book, that is somewhere untouchable."

The woman's face remained unmoving, but the annoyance bubbling beneath her skin was rolling off her in waves.

"Elphie…" Glinda knelt by the side of the bed, no longer hesitating, instead out rightly pressing her hand over Elphaba's lightly, "Look what the obsession did to you…"

It was a plea, more than anything, for Elphaba to see what had become of her, to understand that her fixation was caused by insanity, that there was no logic in it. Yes, the shoes had belonged to Nessarose, but she had so many other belongings too. Could not another suffice?

So, naturally, Glinda could only press the point further, "The doctor says that the worst of the… damage, will likely leave scarring." Elphaba's eyes flickered down to their hands, something changing in her gaze for a split second, "It would have been a lot worse if I hadn't… well, if I hadn't done what I did."

The other woman's gaze grew distant then, her jaw tight. All signs Glinda recognised, Elphaba was remembering, thinking back to the events of the day before no doubt.

"How?" She began with a twitch to her brow, "How did you heal me? You Sorcery was never that skilled, or so you lead me to believe."

Rather than rolling her eyes at the 'insult', or rising to the bait, Glinda's smile widen before wavering ever so slightly.

How had she done it? When that book fell open before her, the healing spell in front of her eyes, she had seemed possessed by something far beyond her. The words tumbling from her lips as if she were merely a puppet, a figure for someone else to speak through. Perhaps she only felt that way due to the memories of that moment being shrouded in panic and anxiety, she had been running on adrenaline and naturally her recollection was clouded. Muddled. Perhaps it was only the vagueness that made it all feel so beyond her control.

"I used the book. Your book," she corrected. As close to the truth as she would venture with Elphaba in the state she was in presently, "I do need to return to the City, however briefly. I was thinking, perhaps, that there may be some traveling spell in that book of yours."

The healing spell had left her wounded, but maybe something else had caused the damage. The strain for example.

But, in all, perhaps it was not a good idea using the book again.

Elphaba's eyes hardened, her brown irises darkening with a sudden surge of emotion, "That book is nothing but trouble, full of ways to kill and torture. It's a curse. A blight."

"I saw nothing like that when I looked at it."

"You were, I imagine, in a rush."

"Yes, well, anyone would have been in my place."

"You said the book is gone." Elphaba glared at her, suspicion written over her features, "Yet you will look in it for a spell."

It was not a question, mere a statement of Glinda's own mistake. She thought she had gotten past such easily made errors long ago, but then again, with Elphaba all her long learnt lessons seemed to be forgotten in seconds. As if she had not spent most of her life learning them.

"Actually, I said it was somewhere safe, untouchable by anyone – well, except for myself."

"Don't you dare use it Glinda," Elphaba snarled, not with anger at Glinda, but rather at the idea of the book. Of ever using it again, "Never. Do you understand?"

Glinda nodded her understanding, but not her compliance. Elphaba was being perhaps a tad overzealous, or perhaps there was something to her claims, not that Glinda could necessarily know what that was. The book had seemed perfectly useful when she had ever so briefly looked at it herself, there had truly been nothing even remotely like what Elphaba had said the book contained.

Elphaba calmed at Glinda's apparent acceptance and obedience of her order, glancing back to their joined hands.

"They have all gone?"

"Yes, even the servant boy left with them. Now there is only Nanny and the doctor."

Elphaba's gaze grew distant, her pupils growing in size. Glinda wondered if the other woman had even heard her, then Elphaba blinked, her eyes focusing on Glinda once more, "He is not a servant."

"I know."

Elphaba's expression remained blank, though her gaze shook for a moment, or so Glinda thought.

The silence that settled over them was heavy, and to Glinda it felt awkward as she struggled with her thoughts and just what to say.

She moved her hand away, resting it on her upper leg. Her knees were beginning to ache from the extended length of time that she had been kneeling.

Throughout this exchange, Glinda feared she would see the madness resurface in Elphaba's eyes, but it hadn't, not yet. There had been moments when she thought it would return in force, but so far… so far it had gone well.

She needed to return to the City; the doctor would no doubt remain there to monitor his patient, that knowledge was just enough to keep her calm. To know that nothing terrible would happen while she was gone.

Yes, while she was gone, for she needed to return there because…

She just needed to.

And there was one thing she wanted to be known before she left, something she hoped Elphaba would absorb and take on board. To see the truth in Glinda's words that she wanted her to know, if only in her own attempt to help Elphaba heal. To help her return to the woman she once was, which Glinda knew deep in her heart, buried though it may be, that would never happen.

"Your Father is still alive, there's still time." She had said it many times before; all of these things. That was the definition of insanity wasn't it? Redoing the same actions again and again in the hope the results would be different.

She recalled the words in her book, that Frex was not truly Elphaba's father, but they both believed it to be so. Why should she be the one to destroy their connection, even if it was already strained and damaged? Frayed, perhaps, almost beyond repair.

No. She would help repair it, for she was sure it would help both father and daughter if she did.

It was only a suspicion, but perhaps she thought the shoes were so important not because of what they were or who they belonged to, but rather what they represented.

Love.

"You remember what I once said, correct? About the bird figure?"

There was no verbal response, but Elphaba's eyes dropped to her hands, surveying the fresh bandages there which did not hide all of the damage; her eyes narrowed.

There was so much else that Glinda wanted to say; needed to say, yet her tongue remained unmoving, stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her hands fisted the material of her skirt, her own eyes falling to the rug she rested on.

So much to say, yet she couldn't. Before, when she had first arrived here, the words fell from her lips as if they had hung there on the edge, waiting for that little push. Now all that came out were bland, unemotional words, descriptions of what happened, rather than what circled beneath her breast, pushing and pushing, yet unable to break through some invisible, unmoveable barrier.

"I will tell the doctor you are awake, and that you need subsistence."

Glinda stood, picking up her bag with some effort, and sliding it onto her shoulder. It hurt, even made her learn slightly to the right, but it was less painful than carrying it in her hands.

"Then I must go, but I'll be back."

By the door now, she peered over her shoulder to see Elphaba's eyes had closed, though whether she was falling asleep or not, Glinda did not know.

"I'll be back. I promise."

She had held out, however in vain that action had been, and she would continue to do so until, perhaps, she could do so no longer. Not out of choice, never out of choice. No matter what happened.

She would never stop.

Flicking through Elphaba's book, her previous thoughts were confirmed, there was nothing she saw that matched Elphaba's claims. No spells that could cause intentional pain, something she had never heard Sorcery skills being capable of. No torture devices, nothing.

What she did find, surprisingly quickly, was a spell that claimed to be for emergency transportation. She had never heard of such spells, but she had also never seen a healing spell capable of doing what she had done the day before. Perhaps there was more to Sorcery than she, and many others, had ever been taught.

To create such a book, filled as it was with pages upon pages of spells, would take a true master of the art. Of which there were so few the only ones that knowingly existed were nothing more than legends, long dead and nothing more than faded words in dusty, mouldy books.

So what was to say the book did not contain a spell that would make traveling such a long distance swifter? Besides everything she had ever been taught, that is.

She did not need to take much with her, for she had brought little with her and most of what she had been using belonged to the previous occupants. So naturally most of her belongings were at her home.

She had informed the doctor that she would be leaving, and to her relief he had said that he would indeed need to remain there for a significant length of time to ensure his patient was fully healed – or as much as she ever would be. Nanny barely responded to her temporary farewell, choosing instead to complain about how little variety the food they had left had.

Glinda had rolled her eyes at that, before going to the large, empty dining room to pour over the book. Premature, perhaps, to have said her goodbyes before she had actually found how she was going to travel, but even so it had worked out in the end.

She had found a spell.

She stood there now, reading over it, wondering just how a travelling spell worked at all. For as she had already noted, to her knowledge there were no spells for transport, only those that could aid with a journey. And she only knew that due to the spell Locasta cast on Dorothy's shoes. Perhaps she was mistaken, especially as she saw the words before her.

She rested her hands lightly on either side of the book, leaning forward slightly to take in the book before her. She had no idea what would happen when she used the spell, but really what choice did she have? Besides waiting until the caravan returned long after the winter ended.

She needed to do this. She had brushed off her duties, chosen her heart over her brain. Now she needed to focus on the latter, balancing the two later if she possibly could. For she could not abandon Elphaba, not entirely, even if it were for the greater benefit of many if she did focus solely on her duties. But did she not deserve some sort of happiness? Both of them?

A quick nod to herself, she set about her task with determination. This was something she had to do after all.

She cleared her mind, calmed her breathing, and focused on the energy that existed deep inside of her as she began to speak the words before her aloud. The edges of her vision darkened as she concentrated entirely on what was in front of her, until all she had was that thread connecting her and the words. The thread building and strengthening until it was stronger, thicker, steel now rather than string. Pulling and pulling and pulling –

She stumbled forward, her legs crumpling beneath her. She caught herself on a tree, the rough bark pushing into her tender palms even through the bandages there, hunching over as she relieved herself of her small breakfast.

The bark broke beneath her nails, the grit of it becoming trapped beneath them. The gentle breeze lapping at her heated skin.

Her heaving chest calmed, her breathing returning close to normal.

She was outside?

Where was the book, she whirled about, eyes wide and head spinning.

Her stomach churned uncomfortably.

With unsteady steps she moved away from the tree, her hand reaching blindly into the bag at her side for the bottle of water she had placed in there.

Her fingers hesitated on the glass bottle, her eyes dropping to her bag.

The book was in her bag, safe alongside her own, but how? She had not put it back in there, the last she saw of it was on the table as she read the spell.

She pressed her other hand to her forehead, her head clogged and fogged.

She fumbled, but was finally able to uncork the bottle, she drunk hungrily both due to an actual thirst she had not realised until she began drinking, and due to the unpleasant taste that clung to her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

She took in the surroundings, while surprisingly free of people, she knew where she was. The outskirts of the City.

Instantaneous transportation? But such a thing was impossible!

Yet there she stood, with the familiar lights of the City before her, her stomach flipping and knotting.

It was late in the afternoon, she noted as she looked to the west, not that she paid it much attention, she was unsure what the time difference was between central Oz and the Vinkus, but a few hours seemed about right.

The houses nearby were in darkness.

Glinda replaced the cork in the bottle and placed it back in her bag.

Right, queasy or not. Confused or not, she needed to return home. See what was happening and wait for Dorothy and her group to arrive, which she was certain would be greeted with some fanfare. Thankfully, it would make it easier for her to know when they did arrive there.

She retrieved a pair of gloves from her bag and pulled them on, readjusting them once to ensure they covered her hands well, before she made her way to the City.

Thankfully she had ended up near the main entryway to the City, a brightly lit place with many people of high respectability. Moving on her own through the City was an oddity, as was travelling on foot, but she knew full well she would be safe in that area. However, as an extra precaution she stuck to the main roads, partly due to the safety it brought as well as the fact she only knew how to reach her home this way, as it was the path she observed from her carriage window.

As always, excluding a few rare occurrences, the winter snow had not reached the City. And the chill was significantly lessened than where she had just been.

Nothing really seemed all that different than when she was last here, perhaps her worries had been unfounded after all. Or perhaps the problems were only blatantly apparent in the areas were more people would be affected, namely the poorer areas of the City. Areas she had never been near let alone seen, she might be doing what she was to help such people, but that did not mean she would be foolish enough to wander into such areas. Especially not on her own and with her wealth apparent.

The City was a large place, and if she had any of her money left she would most definitely have ordered a cab to take her home, especially considering how out of sorts and unwell she felt, but of course she had none left. So she walked.

And walked.

Darkness encroaching swiftly.

Perhaps she could catch a cab and pay them once she returned home, she had funds there she could easily retrieve to do so.

Still she walked.

She kept her head down, ignoring the questioning looks sent her way. The eyes of those strangers making her unease grow, surely they did not recognise her – she was not a big name after all – so why were they looking. Was it perhaps her plainer clothes that drew confusion, or was there something about her that she had not realised?

She paused beneath a streetlight, the flame flickering slightly, and gazed into the window of a closed shop besides her, trying to discern if there was something wrong with her appearance. There was nothing she could detect, the wound on her forehead covered by her hair and scavenged makeup, but even so she straightened her clothes, not that they required it, and fussed with her hair.

"Glinda!" She froze at the sudden voice, one she recognised but could not place. She turned to see a blonde woman rushing to her side, a relieved smile stretched across her face, "Sorry. I mean Your Eminence."

As the woman came to stop beneath the gaslight, her face came into clear view. Despite only meeting briefly, Glinda recognised her instantly.

"Locasta?" Glinda tried to hide her surprise, for out of all the people that she could possibly have bumped into on her return home, The Adept of The North was not one of them. "You do not have to use my title."

"Ah yes, if you say so." The woman smiled, her chest rising faster than normal, showing she had rushed after her, "I was just on my way to see you actually."

The taller Gillikinese woman's smile turned softer then, as if she were concerned, "You look tired." Uncaring for convention, she placed her hand on Glinda's arm, guiding her ever so gently, "There is a café nearby that should still be open, how about we get you a drink and perhaps something to eat? Have a bit of a chat."

"I have only just eaten," Glinda protested even as she obediently followed after the other woman, in truth her shoulder was aching fiercely, a chance to relieve it sounded more than pleasant. Even if it would only make the pain more apparent when she continued her journey home.

"Just a drink then," Locasta supplied cheerfully as they skirted around a couple blocking the pavement, "I am surprised you are not travelling by cab, walking is not always the easiest mode of transport here. And you are rather far from your home, I had to hop out of my carriage to catch up to you."

"Are they waiting for you?" Glinda asked suddenly panicked, but soon calmed when Locasta shook her head.

The mention of transport had Glinda think back to how she was there in the first place. Locasta was an Adept, an individual who was truly skilled more than any other in Sorcery, if anyone could answer her query it would be her.

"Locasta?" She asked as they turned a corner, pausing in the middle of her question as a carriage rolled noisily past, "Do you know of any spells for trans

transportation. To move from one place to another almost instantaneously?"

The Adept stopped, and Glinda noticed they were outside of a café, surely the one Locasta had mentioned.

"That is simply not possible."

Glinda bit her lip, wondering if perhaps she should mentioned the book at her side, or perhaps even show the other woman.

"There are spells that can aid in travel, but none that can make you travel. One of the many limits of Sorcery."

"I thought so, for that is what I was taught," Glinda responded, turning away to hide her face, just in case it showed something she did not want it to.

Locasta moved past her, holding the door of the café open and ushering her in.

"Did you study Sorcery?" They sat at a table in a secluded corner, despite the fact the café was near empty, "What a silly question, you all but stated you did." Locasta leant forward, her face brightening even further – she reminded Glinda of her dear old Ama in a way, "I have never met another Sorcery student since I graduated, too many drop out or are removed because they do not house the innate ability."

Locasta cut of her rapidly building rant, one Glinda was actually in truth rather interested in, if only due to her being in a rather similar position herself. Glinda turned to her right to see the sole worker in the café approaching their table.

Glinda refused to order anything, not out of not wanting a drink, the prospect of drinking something actually decent for the first time in a while was very appealing, but because she had no money to pay for anything.

Locasta ordered for both of them, despite Glinda's protests, which naturally made the worker shuffle awkwardly on her feet.

"I'll pay for us both, don't you worry."

Glinda wondered if she knew she had no money on her, but knew just how ridiculous that thought was. Then again, considering what she was wearing…

Feeling uncomfortable, Glinda loosened her cloak, but kept it around her shoulders.

The worker headed back to the counter to fulfil their drinks order, prompting Locasta to speak once more – though in a lower than normal tone.

"You will be pleased to know Dorothy shared your information with me. I see no reason not to believe her, may I see this book she mentioned though? The one that contained the information."

Glinda blinked, her eyes falling shut shortly afterwards as she pressed two fingers to her uninjured temple.

How could Dorothy have told Locasta about the book? How could she have given her the information when they had not returned yet?

She opened her eye to be greeted by the concerned expression of the other woman, Glinda spoke before she could inquire after what was wrong.

"A communication spell?"

Was there even such a thing?

Locasta's concerned expression grew stronger, her lips parting and brow lowering, "No. They returned this morning."

What?!

They had only left that morning, how could they have arrived so fast? It was impossible!

Glinda's eyes widened. She struggled to swallow as she looked down at the bag resting beside her feet. The book.

Her brow twitched, something the other woman noted, but thankfully said nothing about.

The healing spell had healed Elphaba, for the most part, but had apparently also harmed her. The transportation spell had brought her here, yet apparently took time away from her?

She pressed a hand to her head, which had resumed swimming at her realisation.

"Glinda?" Locasta's voice was distant, as if far away and muffled beneath layers upon layers of material.

Glinda's breathing had grown rapid, her chest rising and falling far too quickly. It did not help her head any.

She heard the far away sound of scraping, then a comforting arm was wrapped around her shoulders, something just the right side of hot pressed to her lips and forehead.

The confusion and pain faded, the warmth seeping from the contact points slowly through her body, until she could feel it tingling in her toes and fingers.

She blinked sluggishly, the contact and warmth fading as she turned to face bright blue eyes.

"Are you alright now?"

"I…" Glinda looked around, the worker appeared with two cups seemingly not having witnessed whatever had happened, while the few other customers had vanished, "I… think so."

Locasta's worried expression lessened, her smile returning in its stead as she returned to her seat; Glinda only then having realised the other woman's arm had remained around her after the warmth had gone.

She was unsure what the other woman had done, but she knew it could not have been something terrible, and as it had made her feel much better and far calmer. She was not worried about that.

No. What caused her anxiety to remain, however buried she managed to force it down in that moment, was what that spell had done. The one she had used. What that book had done. Elphaba had been right yet again. Even if her comments on the contents of the book were wrong, there was something most definitely amiss about it.

Her book, however… she had already thought over its potential for good and its potential for harm. In the wrong hands it could be dangerous. But Locasta, well, Glinda felt instinctively that she could and should trust her.

The worker placed the cups in front of them before returning to her spot at the counter.

"You can see it, though I worry about what could happen if it fell into the wrong hands…"

"In private then. Perfectly understandable, beneficial too, as we have much to discuss." The worry rolling of Locasta seemed lessened, for which Glinda was thankful for.

"We do?"

"He departed in such a rush that he left behind most of his belongings." Locasta began, Glinda quickly filled in the gaps, understanding just who it was she was taking about.

So, The Wizard was gone? What happened now?

"I found letters from you, inquiring after meeting regarding reunification of Oz. There were multiple letters from you on the topic, and as I saw none on other topics I could only assume that you received no response. Why else ask of the same thing time and time again?"

It was perhaps wrong of Glinda to feel surprise that Locasta had managed to come to such a conclusion by herself. Though perhaps the pull of guilt in her chest had more to do with her selfish thoughts that, at one stage, people would likely have thought much the same of her. Maybe they still did.

Locasta lifted her cup to her lips, sipping daintily, an action Glinda copied. She savoured the taste of the liquid, a Gillikinese drink of roasted beans. She distinctly remembered many nights and days at University survived only due to it.

Placing the cup back down, she picked up two sugar cubes from the bowl on the table and dropped them into her cup, stirring slowly with her spoon.

"You would be correct."

Locasta's generally cheerful expression fell again, her smooth brow furrowing, "He could have lessened our problems, and yet he chose not to."

"Problems?"

"Oh!" Locasta's eyebrows shot up, her eyes growing wide, "You were unaware."

Locasta pressed a hand to her forehead, shaking her head subtly.

"I am to lead Oz. Even if only temporary."

Locasta was to be their new ruler? That did not fill her with dread as she feared it may if it were anyone else.

"Do not be so hard on yourself." Glinda waited until the other woman met her gaze, smiling as supportively as she could manage in her current state of being.

Locasta looked away, sweeping her gaze over the near empty café, before returning her eyes to Glinda, "I suppose you weren't told. Munchkinland produces most of Oz's food and has the largest supply of water. If Oz remained separated in the long-term then there could be shortages. If Munchkinland were to withhold their supplies the rest of Oz could be in serious trouble. There were plans I found detailing invasion plans if Munchkinland were to try to charge a premium on the supplies or –

"If they held them."

"Yes." Locasta nodded, worrying her lip with her teeth for a brief moment, "I wished to give The Wizard the benefit of the doubt, but with your confirmation about the letters and what else I have been told and seen. I see he was behind it all. To think, The Witch was right, and died before we realised."

Glinda swallowed her panic with another sip of her drink.

"He was a wicked man."

"How…" Glinda asked as she placed her cup down, deciding she had finished with it now, "How many people know the truth?"

"Including you. Very few. We are presently deciding whether to spread the word or not. Both sides of the argument have valid points."

Glinda nodded, seeing even with her very brief thoughts on that matter why that would be a conflicted issue.

"And so, back to the topic at hand." Locasta folded her hands neatly on the edge of the table, straightening her back in a stern position even as she smiled, "We have a reunification to organise."

Through her weariness and exhaustion, Glinda found herself smiling gratefully. Perhaps if she weren't so lacking in energy her reaction would be more pronounced, but as it was, she still had concerns. She likely always would be second guessing things, both in her control and out of it.

"Are you sure there will not be opposition to your decision? That perhaps it should be put to a vote?"

"Were you planning on a vote?" Locasta asked not unkindly.

"No…" Glinda sighed, "I wasn't. Nessarose made the decision on her own, and so I believed I should too. There was a lot of opposition to her action, but now there is a lot against my decision. I believe that is the way of most political decisions."

"Munchkin's don't like change." Locasta followed her words with a laugh, not an unkind one, but bright and knowing. Of course, the Munchkins in general adored her, and she them, "You are correct by the way. No matter what either of us decides to do, there will be people who are against us. I do not like going against people's wishes, but if, in the end, it is what is best for them and their future, then I see no other way to proceed."

Glinda found her worries easing with Locasta's words, for the moment at least, she felt a little lighter. Perhaps there was more in common between the two of them than she original believed. Locasta was more intelligent than her naivety seemed to indicate. Though, if Glinda was being truthful, see saw little of the woman's naivety in these discussions.

Perhaps, Glinda mused to herself, she has grown as I have. Or perhaps people were wrong.

"We shall have a proper meeting shortly, if you wish."

Glinda nodded her assent, "Of course. Should I contact you or…?"

"I am rather overrun with meetings and the like. I will be around soon, I promise you. I will try to delay the less important meetings for now, so we can begin the reunification process." Locasta reached into her bag and retrieved more than enough to pay for the drinks and a healthy tip, "And that book."

"Of course."

Locasta smiled, rising to her feet and checking that Glinda could do so easily, still concerned, perhaps, about her turn before. She helped Glinda shoulder her bag, her brows quirking at the weight but her lips remaining sealed on the matter.

"Let me get you a cab home, you appear to need your rest so the discussion I was planning on having tonight can wait." Locasta linked their arms as if they were old school friends, something Glinda surprisingly took comfort in rather than shrinking away from, "I will come with you."

Glinda knew the woman was still worried for her beneath her casualness, and that was the true reason she was escorting her, but she did not mind. No one had really cared, nor worried for her that much since dear Ama Clutch. It was welcomed, for once, to be the one cared for rather than the one doing the caring.

"Come along," Locasta said gently, "time for you to get some rest."

It was only as the cab rolled away, Locasta waving from the window, that Glinda allowed her form to sag ever so slightly. The weight of what she had done over her time away settling on her as heavily as her exhaustion did.

Not once had it crossed her mind what he would think, how he would react. Nor Ella, her maid.

If there was even a reaction.

She retrieved her key from her bag and entered her home as silently as possible.

He had long ago grown bored of her, something she was greatly thankful for, and while they had an… amiable relationship now – one that hung on a thin line, one she managed and maintained carefully to ensure it would not lose grip and plummet. She truly did not care what he thought, her anxiety was more drawn from her knowledge of how she should react, but not how she actually felt.

It simply was not a normal reaction for her to not care. To have no feelings about what she had done, how she had lifted roots and disappeared into the night on a whim, with not even a letter or word to anyone about where she was going and what she was doing – well, all except her maid.

For all they knew she could have been kidnapped or murdered.

Luckily for her, there were few people genuinely invested in her living in her close proximity.

"And where have you been?"

Glinda looked up from where her gaze had dropped to a nearby end table, finding Shell gazing down at her from the landing banister. He rested his folded arms on the wood, his lips curled up into his usual easy smile.

"You didn't even leave a note."

There was an edge to his words she was too tired to decipher, instead she answered softly and truthfully, "I did not think to."

"Why does that not surprise me?" The tinge of amusement in his words would have irritated her on any other day, but not that one. She simple lacked the energy.

"I would almost think you were concerned for me."

He disappeared as he pushed back from the railing, re-emerging as he made his way down the stairs.

"No reason other than I wanting to shake the hand of the man that thawed that icy lump you call a heart."

His words should have hurt, but she could sense there was something beneath them even in her weary state, and so she merely shook her head as he walked past her.

Shell grabbed his coat from the stand beside the door, pulling it on before Glinda could fully absorb what was happening. And when she did, her exclaim was edged with a hint of outrage, "Where are you going?"

"I have people to see and plans to finalise." He replied, as if it were the most obvious thing, as he placed his hat on his head.

"I'm surprised there are still woman stupid enough to spread their legs for you."

"Oh, he loosened your tongue too? I like that." He laughed in his usual boisterous manner.

She felt no anger at his words, beneath them was a knowing tone. He knew full well where she truly had been, or at least had an inkling, but he would not bring it up. Nor would she to him. In fact, there was a hint of relief in his tone. Perhaps he was pleased that she had come back visibly unharmed, or so he believed.

Briefly she wondered if Ella was still there, no doubt the girl still believed she was on some task to stop the terrorists. Something that she could never truly do. Well… no The Wizard was gone and someone else, someone who truly wanted Oz to reform and cared about the people, the fighting would stop.

Glinda had hope.

But she could not leave Elphaba there, the madness would return.

But what could she do?

She had other duties; she had so many other people to help.

But she couldn't just leave her.

Shell stopped before the door, his back to her so she could not see his expression.

Seemingly coming to a decision he nodded to himself and turned, his eyes uncharacteristically serious and demanding, and when he spoke there the return of that edge to his voice she had never detected before.

"You found her, didn't you?"

So much for Glinda's belief that he would not bring it up.

She tried to keep her expression neutral, but her lips remained parted, her fingers pressing into each other as she tried to fold them neatly before her, "I do not know –

"Of course you do." The sharpness to his tone caused her heart to jump, her skin pricking with frigid fear, "Now tell me, is it true that the child killed her?"

The edges of her teeth cut into the inside of her cheek as her jaw tensed, a response she could not hide no matter how much effort she put into doing so.

"Either way…" she said, her voice cracking painfully partway through her sentence, "Elphaba is dead."

A flicker of emotion crossed Shell's face, a small furrow forming between his brows which quickly smoothed as he turned on his heel, "So you're not going to give me a straight answer then."

He shrugged his shoulders, as if throwing away her words or her reaction to his words as he opened the door, "Oh well."

The door shut behind him securely, the sound of it hitting the door frame seemingly echoing through the entranceway, despite her knowledge that it had, in fact, not done that. It was all her imagination and emotions enhancing the sounds around her, the words and feelings.

Glinda drew in her breath slowly, as if calming herself, though it had no effect in calming the heavy patter of her heartbeat or the stampeding of her thoughts through her head. For what should she do now?

She could not remain with Elphaba, not indefinitely, nor could she leave her there. A victim of her own morals and the insanity forced upon her. The public may now believe her to be dead, but one brief glance of her would insight a panic once more, so bringing her back to the city, even to hide her away until well, was out of the realm of possibility – and morally wrong. Elphaba was a person, a living thing, not something that should be locked away and hidden like something to be ashamed of.

Now, with her faster form of transport, the distance between the City and Kiamo Ko was lessened dramatically, and so, until she could think of another way for her to mend and fix things, she would have to split her time as subtly as she could between there and the City. Though did she truly wish to use that spell again?

No. But if she had to, well then she would have no choice but to do so.

She would have to trust Nanny to care for Elphaba properly while she was not there, or find someone else trustworthy and capable. It was a risk, but it was all that was possible. She would have to pray that her infrequent visits would be enough to coax Elphaba back from the brink of utter madness, to be enough to help her on the path of recovery.

Perhaps she was putting too much faith in herself, but that was all she had.

It would have been so much easier – she mused as she made her way slowly up the stairs, her hand trailing along the banister – if she could have been capable of forgetting their time together, been able to put aside her feelings. To forget Elphaba and let her carry along her path in life as she travelled down her own. It would have been so much easier.

But her stubbornness, or perhaps inability to lose what she truly cared for, prevented that, and perhaps always would do so, even if in the end it made her suffer and wore her down. It was quite likely she was being self-destructive, her feelings and actions unhealthy and dangerous, but it was like a rope tied around her middle, pulling her in and her allowing it to do so. A willing participant to her own future downfall into pain, for could this every truly end well? Was Elphaba damaged permanently with no hope of recovery?

Glinda struggled to breathe as she reached the landing, her thoughts cutting her breath short.

No. She had to hope she could help, that the woman she loved could be brought back. She had seen it, had she not, that even while in the deepest grip of lunacy, Elphaba still resided in The Witch. And, perhaps, even if Elphaba returned fully, The Witch would still reside in her. Somewhere deep inside.

With steps that grew ever more certain, Glinda approached her room, the need for sleep great after she had spent so long awake, after she had exhausted so much of her energy both physically and with her use of Sorcery.

Maybe it was selfish of her to cling to Elphaba so, or weak of her, but she would still do so. Even if it was a lost cause, even if it harmed her more in the end; she would remain dedicated to her decision. She would do everything in her power to help Elphaba, because, at the end of the day, the other woman deserved it. She deserved so much more than life had given to her, and if Elphaba could not help the people… the animals and the humans and the Animals, that she desired to, then Glinda would.

Because, even if Elphaba could not be brought back, Glinda would ensure that she lived on. One way or the other.

End

And that is that.

Thank you to all my readers, those that favourited and alerted this fic, and you special few who reviewed. It means a lot to me to know what you thought of this story. I just hope you all enjoyed it and that this end isn't too disappointing to you.

I was originally going to make this a trilogy, but have decided against that in the end. Partly due to not wanting to stretch things out and due to this story (despite being far better written than the previous one – in my opinion) has been far less well received.

The third one would have been a mixture of Out of Oz and a few of the original Oz books, but obviously following Glinda again.

I think my decision is for the best. This seems the best place to end in my opinion.

My next story will likely be one of my Swan Queen (Once Upon a Time) ones, but I have a few Gelphie WIPs and drabbles on my computer, so even if it takes a while please don't assume I've "jumped ship".

Once again, I would like to thank you all for reading.