A/N: Well, here it is - the final chapter! I just felt like finishing this fanfic up, so I went ahead and took advantage of my temporary writer's block-free state...I know it'll be back soon...and wrote the final chapter!

This chapter changes points of view to Glinda, then Fiyero, then Boq, then Elphaba. It may get a little confusing, but I've inserted a horizontal line where the POV changes, and it should be relatively easy from there. Enjoy!



Good news!

She's dead!

The Witch of the West is dead!

Hurrying down the green marble hallways of the Emerald City Palace, I gritted my teeth as the joyous voices of the celebrating denizens reached my ears.

Shut up! I screamed silently, You don't know anything about Elphaba! I wanted to lash out, to scream the truth about my deceased friend…but I knew I couldn't. Not only had I promised not to clear her name, the Ozians would never believe that their Wicked Witch had really been "good" all along. Nevertheless, there was something I could do to make sure Elphaba had not died in vain.

I took a deep breath as I briefly paused before the tall doors to the throne room. Rearranging my expression to a grim scowl (it wasn't hard – I already wore a pretty good one naturally), I swept into the room.

The Wizard and Madame Morrible did not seem to notice my intrusion at first. The Ruler of Oz sat slumped on his grand throne while his Press Secretary stood beside him. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument.

"…I don't know why you're so despondiary, I thought it went quite well! They seemed thrilled to shreds with their brains, and their hearts, and this and that."

I felt my blood boil at the hated woman and opened my mouth to announce my presence. Just then, Morrible looked up and caught my eye. She immediately pasted on a sickly sweet smile.

"Oh, Miss Glinda! I thought you'd be out festivating!"

I sputtered, hardly able to believe this woman could look me in the face and suggest I celebrate the death of my best friend! The urge to smack the smirk off her face was strong, but instead I dimly felt myself hold out the bottle of elixir I'd retrieved from Elphaba's remains.

"This was Elphaba's," I said softly.

The Wizard leaned forward, his wide eyes fixed on the bottle. "What's that you say?" he asked in a whisper.

I forced myself to continue, though the urge to begin crying again was strong. "It was a keepsake. It was her mother's. She told me so herself." I looked the Wizard straight in the eye. "I've only seen a little, green bottle like this one other time. It was right here, in this very room. You offered me a drink from it."

The Wizard looked shell-shocked. He stood up, taking the bottle from my hand, and stared at it. "But…oh, my lord…" He looked up into the distance and sang:

I am a sentimental man

Who always longed to be a father…

Morrible looked surprised by the revelation as well. "So that was it. That was why she had such powers! She was a child of both worlds."

The Wizard was crying softly. I gazed at him, and felt the faintest stirrings of pity in my heart. The man had just discovered he'd ordered the destruction of his own daughter, after all. But then I remembered Elphaba, my innocent Elphie…dead. And when I spoke my voice, was cold.

"I want you to leave Oz," I told the defeated Ruler, "I'll make the pronouncement myself – that the strains of wizardship have been too much for you and you are taking an indefinite leave of absence. Did you hear what I said?"

The Wizard bowed his hand meekly. "Yes, your Goodness."

I gave him a curt nod. "You'd better go get your balloon ready."

He left quickly, and I turned to Morrible, my most intimidating glare pasted across my face.

She took a step back. "Now, Glinda, I know we've had our miniscule differentiations in the past…"

"Guards!" I called loudly, and then sneered. "Madame, have you ever considered how you'd fare in captivity?"

Morrible looked confused, and a little scared. "What?"

"Articulated. Captivity. Prison. Personally, I don't think you'll hold up very well. My professional opinion is that you do not have what it takes." The guards rushed in and caught hold of the secretary as I stepped up into her face and spat her own words back at her. "I hope you prove me wrong. I doubt you will. Take her away!"

"No!" Morrible called as she was dragged off.

I watched them go, then took a deep breath and summoned my bubble. It was time to make my presentation to the citizens.

I crept through the woods stealthily, glancing behind every few steps to make sure no one was following me. Not that anybody would be. Everyone was too busy celebrating to notice my sudden absence back in the City.

So far, everything had worked perfectly. I had accompanied the Witch Hunters back to the Wizard, and I now had a diploma tucked into my belt that was supposed to announce my thoroughly educated brains. What a load of crap. I knew the Wizard was a complete humbug, so I didn't even know why I still had the scroll of paper with me. Maybe Elphaba could use it in a fire when we got going.

Elphaba. The thought of seeing her again, safe and alive, made me quicken my pace until I saw the castle rise up against the velvety sky. Then I ran, my cloth shoes making no noise whatsoever. I remembered to glance behind once more when I reached the ruined doors, but then I slipped inside and crept to the trapdoor.

I knelt down beside the spot where Elphaba's cloak and pointed hat still sat, moved them aside, and knocked on the hidden door.

"It worked!"

The door immediately opened, and Elphaba stuck her head out.

"Fiyero? Oh, thank Oz! I thought you'd never get here!" she exclaimed, quickly climbing out of her hideout. She embraced me tightly, then drew back and let her eyes rove over my face. She looked horrified by what she saw as she reached her hand out hesitatingly.

"Go ahead, touch. I don't mind. You did the best you could. You saved my life," I told her. She touched my cheek gently.

"You're still beautiful," she whispered, a single tear zigzagging a track down her face.

"You don't have to lie to me," I said as we stood up.

She took my hand and smiled. "It's not lying. It's…looking at things another way."

No one mourns the wicked

Now at last she's dead and gone

Now at last, there's joy throughout the land…

I stood in the crowded streets of the Emerald City among all the other citizens, gazing upwards to where Glinda was standing in her bubble about thirty feet off the ground. She was clutching a large book to her chest and looked very upset. It was really no wonder. Elphaba had been her best friend, even in later years. I myself was a little upset, but unlike Glinda, I couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

Glinda cleared her throat and everyone looked up expectantly. "Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that will frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be…Glinda the Good."

I smiled halfheartedly and cheered along with the other Ozians. Glinda would be a good leader. I just knew it.

Good news!

I gulped back tears as the cruel yells of the Winkies in the village we were passing reached my ears. I couldn't believe things had turned out the way they had. Part of me wanted to run right into the village and scream that I was alive, and scare them all to death. Another part of me wanted to hang my head and go into hiding. Which, I supposed, was what I was doing anyways. So much for making good.

I turned to Fiyero. "We can never come back to Oz, can we?"

He shook his head. "No."

I sighed. "I only wish…"


"…Glinda could know that we're alive!"

The Scarecrow shook his head again. "She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know."

Ever. That was a long time.

Good news…

"Come…" Fiyero held out his hand.

Bowing my head, I murmured, "Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But…because I knew you…"

I imagined Glinda chiming in, "Because I knew you…"

Fighting back tears, I forced myself to go on. "I have been changed…" I took Fiyero's hand and allowed him to lead me on as the victorious singing drowned out my thoughts.

No one mourns the wicked!




A/N: Thanks to my reviewers! Just review one more time, please?