A/N: I didn't expect to write a second chapter, but here we are! I don't have much to say about it other than that it exists. Please go easy on me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked, nor any of its characters.

Chapter 2

The Wizard's departure went without fanfare. He simply loaded up his hot air balloon and left with a wave of his hand. If he had any remorse for any of his misdeeds - the misdeeds that the citizens would live the rest of their natural lives without ever learning - it clearly wasn't enough. A small crowd gathered to see him leave, if only to say that they had had the chance to do so, but then they dispersed to join the larger celebration that had encompassed the City of Emerald.

As for Madame Morrible? Well, Glinda kicked herself for the fate that she had foisted upon her. Life in Southstairs simply wasn't suitable for a woman of her stature. If Glinda had to be completely honest, she wanted to devise something much, much worse for her. Surely there was a curse in the Grimmerie that would work for her purposes. A spell that would make Morrible experience torture so severe that she wished for death - torture everlasting, which was only a fraction of what she deserved. But even if Glinda could manage to find it, let alone speak the words properly for maximum effect, she knew enough about the Grimmerie to know that every spell had a price that must be paid. So life in Southstairs was the sentence. Oh, well.

The only remaining puzzle piece was Dorothy, the girl from Kans-ass. Glinda wanted so badly to be driven by her bitterness and just magick her away to the Shifting Sands under the pretense of sending her home, but nothing more. But Dorothy was a young girl from a far-away land. Her hands and feet were guided by forces she had no choice but to believe. And - worse still - when the girl found herself in Glinda's presence, she only had a simple plea:

"I want to go home."

Her bright blue eyes didn't hold malicious intent or even pride in her actions. She was trembling in fear, her eyes wild with exhaustion - oh, dear Lurline, had she even slept? - confused as to the ways of this world.

Glinda wanted to give her a place to rest before sending her back to her world, but she was almost certain that one more day in Oz would break her. So she gave her the biggest comforting hug she could muster (something they both desperately needed), cast a simple teleportation spell over the shoes Dorothy still wore, and told her a simple lie about her journey: "You've had the power to go home all along! You just needed to find it in yourself on your own. Just close your eyes, tap your heels three times, and say There's no place like home."

Dorothy obeyed, just as she had since she arrived. Within moments, she was gone - taking the shoes with her.

Glinda navigated the next few hours to the best of her ability. The citizens of Oz accepted her self-promotion as their new leader without question. She smiled and waved and granted them good will in their celebrations, even if they made her chest constrict painfully. She refused to fall apart in front of them - refused to fall apart at all. She had to keep her promise to Elphaba. Secrets would be kept. She would guide them as best as she could, for as long as she could. It was all for the best, she tried to remind herself.

All for the best...but for whom?

It wasn't until dawn that Glinda found her way back to the Emerald Palace. Her stomach lurched at the thought of walking through its doors. Too many memories plagued the halls. How much time had passed from the day Elphaba fled that Glinda forced herself to call this place home? And now it was even more of a prison than it had been in the past. Unfortunately, unlike Dorothy, she couldn't be whisked away to a far-away land. As much as she despised it, the Emerald Palace was her domain now. Yet another trap set up by her own foolish decisions in the past.

She stumbled her way to the living quarters, making sure to avoid disturbing the servants and guards that resided in the Palace. With every step, she felt the weight of the day press upon her shoulders. Glinda had to practically use her wand to balance herself until she finally made it to her room. She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could - and then her knees buckled, sending her sprawling across the floor. A few crystals broke off from her wand as it crashed beside her; the Grimmerie landed a few feet from her, none the worse for wear. She didn't bother to pick herself up, nor did she collect the items scattered about. Instead she felt herself curl up into a tight ball on the floor, her face buried against her knees as her arms pinned them against her chest.

And then, quite against her will, a guttural scream tore from her throat.

Glinda screamed as loudly and as long as she could, her voice cracking from the strain. She screamed for Fiyero. She screamed for Elphaba. She screamed for the love she had lost, the love she never knew she had, the love that was gone for good. She screamed, not caring who heard her until her voice faded into nothing.

But of course no one would hear her. The Grimmerie's magic again cloaked the room, trapping her in her misery without reprieve.

At this realisation, Glinda snapped into action. Her body uncoiled itself and launched at the offending tome. She grasped at its pages, balling them in her fists. She pulled at them, intent on ripping them from their binding.

They didn't budge.

"Damn you!" Glinda screeched at the book. Or was it to Elphaba's spirit, if it still lingered? Either way, she hurled the accursed thing as far away from her as possible. "Why did you leave this thing in my possession? What are you expecting of me? What do you want me to do?"

Silence.

Glinda sank back to the floor in defeat. She hugged herself as tightly as she could, tears once again prickling at her eyes. What in Oz was Elphaba thinking? To kiss her so suddenly and fiercely, only to resign to her death, was the cruelest trick of all. Her flight from the Emerald City all those years ago was a kindness in comparison. She wished she had the ability to bring people back from the dead. Maybe she would get a chance to ask her what she meant to for Glinda to do.

Maybe she would slap her a few more times for good measure.

Her heart stung at the very thought. No, Glinda didn't think she could hurt Elphaba in this hypothetical situation. But she did wish that Elphaba had been a little more transparent. If she had known how Elphaba had felt, maybe she would have done things differently.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda sighed. "I wish I could go back… I wish we could do it all again."

Be careful what you wish for.

The thought was an icy echo in her head, making Glinda shiver. She curled into herself, her eyes closed tightly to ward off the tears. Eventually she fell into a dreamless sleep, a welcome reprieve in the face of a nightmare she had fallen into.

-!-

Days turned to weeks turned to months. The Land of Oz settled into a peaceful rhythm, not daring to wish for danger now that the threats had long been eliminated. They instead looked to Glinda almost as a shining beacon, a promise of protection, a guiding force.

The pressure was immense, yet welcomed. If she was honest with herself, she prefered the responsibility these days. She had always enjoyed having the ability to help others. The fact that she still was doing so and inciting change within Ozian society gave her hope for what was to come later in the future. Animals would be given full rights again. People might become more harmonious rather than taking sides and scrapping at each other. While she could never be as wholesome as an Ozma, whose lineage literally held the power of the goddess Lurline, Glinda hoped that maybe she was the force that was needed for them to return to their rightful place as Rulers.

Ever the optimist, even now.

The more time that passed, the more Glinda settled into her new role, and the easier her pain became to manage. She had long since locked the Grimmerie away; it was within her reach so that it never fell into enemy hands, but it was out of sight and so didn't lead to temptation. The weeks leading up to it being tucked away were practically unbearable. Despite all of her attempts at blocking the negative energy that threatened to consume her, it had always found a way to play with her anxious mind. It told her of ways she could have protected Elphaba, could have prevented everything from happening, if only she had read its words. If only she had learned. If only, if only. The urge to conjure the dead or torture the anonymous witch hunters rang loudly in her brain. Corruption: that was all that the Grimmerie existed for. And so she buried it in a pocket dimension, only where she could access - even if she never intended to do so. It was the only way she could live with herself.

Elphaba would understand, she told herself every so often. She knew that Elphaba had wanted her to learn its magic and harness the power in ways that she could not. And she desperately wanted to fulfill Elphaba's wishes. They were all that remained, after all. But what of the cost? Magic came with a price, especially magic that was as filthy as the Grimmerie's. She simply couldn't risk it.

Maybe when she was stronger she would attempt to learn its magic. Until then, she would keep it sealed.

-!-

Almost a year had passed since Elphaba's death. The anniversary seemed to open up a long-healed wound among the consciousnesses of the masses; reminders of the terror they had endured stirred them into a frenzy. And what better way to calm a frenzy than a festival? The governors of each country of Oz seemed to agree with this unanimously, leaving the endorsement to Glinda the Good.

To even consider the proposal should have been a concept verging on blasphemy in Glinda's eyes. A whole year's worth of wishing for altered outcomes and second chances rose to the surface immediately, even after practicing suppression in their wake. They didn't know what they were asking of her! Hadn't she mourned enough? Couldn't they do what they were so good at already - ignore their problems and stick to the mundane tasks of life?

And yet…

Glinda's newfound position as the Leader of Oz had taught her quite a few things about the people she governed. The Wizard and Madame Morrible had left decades worth of requests unrecognized, from repealing the Animal Banns to repairing the Yellow Brick Road to reforming tribal alliances in the Vinkus. All of the peoples' wishes had been abandoned in favor of bolstering their own wealth and power, coming at the expense at the very people who called them Wonderful. In the short year she had been in power, Glinda had worked hard to restore Oz to the Land it once was. She listened to her citizens instead of lording over them with the threat of force. She knew their pain, their desires, their need for unity.

Still, her pen hovered over the petition delivered to her. Her heart ached. It would be so easy to reject the notion and give in to her own selfishness. But the question of what would Elphaba do? echoed in her mind all the same. Elphaba would want her to allow it, to pretend that she was as Wicked as they believed her to be. They won't listen, she had said, and it was true. They would reject her, just as they had rejected Elphaba. So it only made sense that she sign…

Glinda leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes, breathing out a heavy sigh. "I just wish you would tell me it will be okay," she whispered into the night air. "I wish I could go back."

If that is what you wish…

The words tickled at her mind, voiceless yet echoing at the same time. Glinda's eyes snapped open immediately. She bolted to her feet, her wand already in her hand. She looked about the room, trying to gauge who had the power to plant a thought so strongly in her mind that it seemed to come alive. Nothing. She couldn't see anything aside from the usual furnishings of her office, the bookcases filled with texts and laws that had been lost to time.

Except… Glinda froze. Sat on the floor, almost innocently, was the very book she had cast aside long ago.

The Grimmerie.

How did it get there? Glinda crossed over to it in a few fluid strides. She knelt down before it, her fingers brushing the rough leather surface as if testing to see that it was solid. Her brow furrowed. Had someone entered her office while she was unaware? How were they able to find it? She had cast an invisibility charm on it ages ago so that it was undetectable. Unless it had appeared on its own… This thought alone made her hesitate. She had forgotten that the Grimmerie had a sort of sentience that was unlike any other spellbook. The only explanation for its sudden appearance was that it had to be mocking her, just as it had on her first night alone in the Emerald Palace.

As if in answer, the book vibrated under her touch.

Glinda wanted to kick it halfway across the room, but she couldn't resist the curiosity that began to tug at her. Clearly it wanted her attention. She couldn't comprehend why, as she had never given it a moment's thought since Elphaba's death. But if it had come out of the hiding place she had selected for it - if it had the power to even do that, let alone appear before her - then she might as well see what it wanted. The worst case scenario she could think of was if it harmed her, do everything in her power to destroy it, Elphaba's wishes be damned.

She settled into a more comfortable position. Her fingers gingerly lifted the cover of the Grimmerie. The book seemed to take over where her initial action left off: its pages fluttered as if being rifled by an invisible hand, searching for something Glinda couldn't even begin to guess. When its motions finally ceased, Glinda leaned forward to read whatever it had chosen for her.

The pages were blank.

Of course it would be. Glinda sighed to herself. This was another taunt, further proof that it didn't choose her as much as she chose to take it. How was she supposed to learn to read a book that sealed its contents from her?

Look closer.

The compulsion made her shiver in response, yet she obeyed the order. Glinda furrowed her brow as she strained her eyes to see whatever it was she was supposed to see. But...wait. For just a moment, she swore she could make out a flicker of a word. Or was that a word at all? She leaned closer still, her hands gripping the sides of the tome. Again, something sprang into her line of sight. A string of characters that didn't even register as words or even a written language appeared on the page - no, it was literally being transcribed in her mind - dancing in a flurry of movement that almost made her dizzy as she tried to chase it. Glinda closed her eyes to keep the room from spinning. She pressed her palms against the parchment, her fingers tracing the length of the pages as if that would coax the words out of them.

"Netre pre oprats nitren." The words fell from Glinda's lips sooner than she had realized she had even uttered them. Her eyes blinked open; all at once, the words were swiped from her mind as suddenly as they had appeared. With a gasp she quickly closed them again. All of her focus went to the pages at her fingertips, a silent plea screaming in her head. Please, she needed this small victory. She would do anything… With that thought in mind, the words reappeared, and she spoke them this time with no hesitation:

"Netre pre oprats nitren,

"Mataru oun atoven,

"Tevre meu tu iilhn utamutam."

The moment the final word was uttered, a strange, dark light shot out of the Grimmerie and consumed the room. The air crackled with an electric current. The book rattled and shook beneath her touch, its dull humming turning into a deafening roar.

Glinda slapped her hands over her ears to block out the sound. However, that action did little help - the sound was inside her head as much as it was outside of it, deadening the rest of her senses. She felt herself curling further into herself, as if becoming as small as possible would protect her from the onslaught of the Grimmerie as its magic scraped at her defenses. What had she done? What had she read? Was this the power that Elphaba had subjected herself to all this time? Just how powerful was she to have survived the madness?

"What are you doing?" Glinda implored, though her voice failed her in the chaos. "I don't understand!"

Exactly what you wished.

With that, the dark light was snuffed out, plunging the room into darkness. The floor, though she couldn't see it, disintegrated beneath her. Glinda's hands shot out to grab at something - anything - that even resembled solid ground.

All that she could find was the Grimmerie.

And so Glinda plumetted, screaming, into the inky darkness.