This is predominantly bookverse, because I like the character development better in the book. One teeny-weeny detail has been imported from the musical, and this was only because the book suggested it, but never expanded on it; it never said it didn't happen. (Well, until Son of a Witch, but I didn't enjoy that book as much.)

"Lady Glinda! Lady Glinda, over here!" Glinda blinked luxuriously as she allowed her mind to acclimatize to the sound of her name. Finally, she looked in the direction of the caller. It was a Vinkus man whose name she thought she might have heard before, but couldn't recall. "We were about to start without you."

"Oh, no matter, I'm here." Glinda glided towards the traditionally dressed guard of Kiamo Ko. "Where is the… Where is she?" A hiccup was suppressed ever so delicately.

The guard seemed to notice, but said nothing. "She and her three companions are inside. They requested privacy until it was time to go. Would you like to see her?"

"No, no." No. Glinda couldn't trust herself to maintain her Good Witch disposition if she saw the minx. "Not if she values her privacy so much."

"Okay. Shall we clean up?"

"Clean what up?"

"Clean up the… the scene."

"What…" With a wave of revulsion, Glinda suddenly realized what the guard was talking about. "Oh," she whispered faintly.

"Lady…" The guard's eyes widened and in a flash he had a gentle but firm grip on Glinda's shoulders, not a moment too soon: Glinda realized that she had been tipping off balance. "Lady Glinda, are you ok?"

The nausea passed and Glinda righted herself furiously. "Yes, I'm fine. The earth here is uneven." Her tone was ever so slightly sharp, and the guard backed away quickly. "Take me to the scene, please."

"Ma'am, are you sure…"

"Don't 'Ma'am' me, Fiyero, I'm not yet 50," she spat as she stalked towards the castle. That might have been a bit harsh, she thought. From the folds of her dress came a small silver snuffbox, which Glinda enjoyed a bit longer than usual. She slowed as she got to the front door, remembering that she had never been to Kiamo Ko, and the guard approached her side.

"Pardon, my lady, but it's Hanji."

Glinda stared at him with empty eyes.

"My name's Hanji."

"Sorry. Can we be along, then?"

The staircase was long, and Glinda's dress was heavy. Well, Glinda blamed the dress; truthfully, she had not experienced any cardiovascular exercise in a very long time. By the time she reached the top, she was panting. There wasn't a doubt as to which room it was. The fire still flickered, and the first odors tickled Glinda's nose. She almost retched as she stepped forward into the room, her stomach clenching as she forced herself to look at the wall instead of the floor. The guards were standing tensely behind her, and as she turned to look at them they all inched forwards.

"You may go," trilled Glinda. As she shut the door, she squeezed the doorknob a second longer, and released when she heard the satisfying click as the door magically locked itself. Seconds passed as Glinda prepared to look.

It was as she had expected. Sodden black clothes were strewn across the floor, the pointed hat standing proudly in the middle of it all. The water had spread out from the centre, and formed what looked like shiny green wax as it dried. Glinda could see the reflection of her own face in it; her creamy skin and hair were tinged green. For one moment, she could have sworn that the face shining back at her was not her own, but that of the woman whose remains she was now skirting around.

Another dizzy spell came upon her, and since there was no Hanji to catch her now, she came down hard on the floor. The bulbous skirt of her dress and the hidden plump of her bottom cushioned her fall, but nonetheless, the shock of the hardwood floor broke the dam. Tears fell freely, and sobs fought with each other to escape her throat. Wary of the people who awaited her outside the door, she bent her head into the frill, stuffing crinoline into her mouth, biting down on the wad. When was the last time she had become emotional like this, genuinely emotional? Life was a flurry of dresses and parties and politics that were really popularity contests; it had been so long since there was something to get worked up over. Even the death of Nessarose hadn't done it for her.

A hissing noise rose from the floor, and Glinda looked to see one of her escapee tears melting a small hole in the now-solid green plate. If one didn't know that it had been a person mere hours ago, it would look extraordinarily inane. As it was, Glinda felt a new wave of revulsion, this time at herself for hurting all that was left of her former best friend. As she watched, the fluid in the hole once again shaped itself and began to harden, and after a matter of minutes the only indication was a small rough patch in the otherwise perfectly smooth surface. Slowly, Glinda lowered a hand onto it, gritting her teeth until she found it had the same waxy surface as a candle. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Miss Glinda?" A small voice in the corner broke the heavy silence. Glinda looked up and stared at the intruder for a few seconds before recognizing her as Dorothy. That she would have the gall to look so innocent…

"How did you get in here?"

"I heard crying, and I found a door in the corner. I think it was a secret passageway. Were you crying?"

Stupid question. Glinda wouldn't dignify it with a response. "Well, my dear, you've certainly perfected the art." She shivered as she realized how closely she was echoing Madam Morrible.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." This doe-eyed child was a terribly unsatisfying target.

The girl sighed. "Miss Glinda," she whispered, before bursting into tears. Glinda was shocked, to say the least; she scrambled to her feet, battling her dress aside, but she made no move towards her.

"Child, whatever is the matter?"

Dorothy's sobs were yelping, like that dog of hers, and they grew more frenzied as she fought to get them under control. Finally, she was able to speak, her words broken by hiccups. "I didn't mean to kill her. I didn't mean to kill her sister. It was an accident, but nobody believes me."

These words shocked Glinda, and she refrained from speaking until she was sure she could keep her voice even. "But… The wizard…"

"I don't like the Wizard. I don't think he's all that wonderful. He scared us, and he told us to kill her, but I'm just a little girl. I've never even killed a bug."

Glinda remembered her first and only encounter with the wizard like it was yesterday, and still she shivered when she thought of it. "How did this happen?"

Dorothy dried her eyes with the skirt of her gingham dress. "Well, I got up here, and she seemed so angry with me. It scared me, but I understood why. I told her what I came to tell her."

"Which was…?"

"I told her that I didn't want to drop the house on her sister, and I was sorry. And then she asked me for the shoes, but I couldn't get them off. She didn't believe me."

"Where are the shoes now?"

"I finally got them off." Dorothy showed her sock-clad feet.

"And then?"

"She got even more angry. She was yelling at me, and she backed into the fire. Her dress caught on fire. I know that you have to put out fire with water, and there was a bucket of water in the corner…"

Dorothy was once again overwhelmed. This time, Glinda joined her. Together, they crouched next to Elphaba's remains, not bothering to hide their sorrow. The crying passed quickly, though, and Dorothy was looking at Glinda curiously.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering why you were so sad. I didn't think you liked her very much."

Glinda dropped her head into her hands. "It's complicated. We were friends a long time ago. A long, long time ago."

"Why aren't you friends anymore?" Dorothy's eyes widened when she saw new tears spring into Glinda's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not you…" Glinda collected herself and sighed. "We'll head out soon. Why don't you go back to your friends, I'll be along in a moment."

At that moment, another noise came from the corner, but this wasn't so much of a timid coo as it a clanging of metal, a disgruntled growl, and the sound of something smashing. The three "witch hunters", as Glinda preferred to think of them, had squeezed out of the narrow passage, and Glinda saw a clay bowl lying in bits on the ground from where someone had bumped a shelf. All three immediately bowed once they caught sight of Glinda, who responded with a curt nod.

"I was just telling Dorothy that we will be leaving momentarily. Go back and collect yourselves; I'll be along in a minute."

Glinda suddenly found herself in the middle of a bony, crushing hug that only young girls are capable of giving. Remembering the "seal of protection" she had offered Dorothy in the beginning of this whole mess, Glinda bent down to kiss her forehead again, but Dorothy gently tugged her the rest of the way down until she had Glinda's ear as at the level of her mouth.

"I think she still loves you," she whispered.

Glinda's lips lingered on Dorothy's head a moment longer than originally planned.

As Dorothy's feet pattered down the narrow hallway, Glinda looked up to see the scarecrow still leaning against the wall, giving Glinda the most curious look in the world with his painted eyes. "She was right. Elphaba did still love you."

Glinda was tired of this masking of emotions and cryptic messages. She held her hands out in a helpless gesture. The scarecrow walked a few steps towards her, knelt, and leaned forward. His lips grazed the green plate. He remained in that slightly forward position for a few seconds. Glinda tilted her head to see his burlap face better, and saw the most heartbreaking expression of grief in his painted features. "Who are you?" she whispered.

The scarecrow looked up and shook his head. "I'm trying to forget that myself."

"What?"

"My children, my wife, and the woman I love… they were all killed. And Elphaba… Elphie… Fabala… Fae… she saved my life. Unconsciously. She made me immortal. But she couldn't save herself, or anyone else."

Something clicked in Glinda's head. Maybe it was the random blots of blue ink on his face, or maybe there was a spark of familiarity in his facial features, but Glinda saw it. She didn't name him out loud, though, as much as she wanted to, as much as she rejoiced in the fact that he at least was alive, as much as she needed an old friend to share the grief with. She approached him, but he shied away, and she chose not to push him.

"I'm going to head out ahead of you. I have some business in the city." She took a few steps towards the door, but turned back. "It's your decision what to do with…" She nodded her head towards the floor.

Fiyero smiled grimly again. "She'll stay here. The entire castle will be her monument."

Glinda nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you. Thank you, Lady Glinda."

There was so much Glinda wanted to say to him. She couldn't bear to leave. "You have as much time as you want here."

Fiyero nodded.

Minutes later, Glinda was floating quickly but gently through the sky in a bright pink bubble. She could have sworn that a faint green light shone out every window of Kiamo Ko. She said one last goodbye, sending it both down to earth and heavenward just to be safe, before setting her sights ahead to the Emerald City. The past half-hour had taught her everything. "Good" no longer meant "Passive" to her anymore. In the name of Elphaba… In the name of Fiyero… In the name of every life that had been ruined by the wizard, there would be hell to pay.

My huge multi-chapter fic that's going right now is musicalverse, which I found ironic since in truth I enjoyed the book a bit better. So, here's a bookverse that's been written for a long time. I know it's melodramatic, I hope you enjoy it, and please drop me a review!!

Curlz