A small hilltop just out of sight from Kiamo Ko, the single gravestone carrying only the most minimal of inscriptions. Had it not been for the blonde standing in front of it, the gravestone would not even have been there to begin with. The Witch would be mourned nor missed by anyone else.

Mourned by the person who had caused her death to begin with. The irony of it all was not lost on Glinda the Good. It was the one thing she regretted about her rise to power, the one thing she wished she could have changed. But the green woman had been a weakness, and weaknesses had to be eliminated.

As she stood there, a few days after the 2nd anniversary of the Witch's melting, she wondered once again how things had ended up the way they had. How she had ended up the way she had.

The inexplicable crave for power and admiration had always been there, that she had known for a long time. It was why she had attended Shiz to begin with, why she had been so set on getting that Sorcery seminar, why she had always made sure she was the most popular of them all. Galinda the Glorious, that was the person she had wanted to become.

It had also been the reason she had taken to tolerating her artichoke roommate, even becoming friends with her. Elphaba Thropp, odd as she was, had not only been intelligent, but incredibly powerful as well. More powerful than Glinda would ever be. And with her ambition to work for the Wizard… Well, it would have been foolish not to have joined her.

But then the damned girl had ran, throwing all that potential away in favour of 'morals'. Glinda had cursed her for that for years. Much as she hated to admit it, she had grown close to the green girl. Too close. And though she finally had what she wanted – the admiration from all those in Oz, unlimited wealth, and the promise to rise to power as soon as the Wizard passed on – she lacked what she needed. Elphaba Thropp, the person who had been supposed to stay at Glinda's side forever, had not only become an enemy, but also a horrible weakness.

It was not long after that the blonde decided she had to be stopped. If she was, then maybe that thrill she had once felt would return. And if she could combine eliminating her one weakness with eliminating the one person standing in her way to the throne of Oz, she would finally have it all. She would be free of this horrible sadness, finally able to fully enjoy her position. It just so happened that a dense little farmgirl gave her just that perfect opportunity.

Oh yes, she could have given the shoes to Elphaba, but the green woman had caused her too much trouble. She never deserved those shoes anyway. And yes, she could have just sent the little girl home instantly, but then who would be her pawn? And by pitting those two against each other – the Wicked Witch and the Innocent Heroine – who would see her as anything other than Glinda the Good, the saint aiding the Innocent Heroine? No one would ever suspect her true intentions.

Even the Wizard wouldn't simply be chased off as a fraud, still getting his one chance to hold up his charade. A nice 'thank you' for getting her this far to begin with, he deserved that much. Had it not been for his own need for power, Glinda would never have risen as high as she had. But to a man as sentimental as he was, the knowledge he murdered his only child had just been too much to bear.

She had expected that, after all that, she would be free. She had expected that last bit of childish innocence to vanish, enabling her to become Glorious instead of plainly Good. But here she was, two years later, placing a white lily on the grave of a person she had once sworn to loathe forever.

She wondered if she should say something, if it would even be of any use. But out of all the memories she had involving her Elphie, only one truly vivid one came to mind. The day she had gotten what she wanted, the day Elphaba had left the palace, the day Glinda had still tried to convince her to stay, the green girl had yelled something at her. 'You never cared for goodness, not one bit!'

"You're the only one who ever saw it, you know?" The words were spoken no louder than a whisper, its volume seemingly amplified by the silence around her. Kneeling down, Glinda placed a hand against the cool gravestone. "The only one clever enough to see through it all, but still stupid enough to get yourself killed over a few Animals. Still stubborn enough not to listen to me, stubborn enough to throw your one chance at actually 'helping others' into the wind. Damn you…"

She could feel tears burning in her eyes, and she quickly got up. Now was not the time for crying. Crying would imply she cared, crying would imply she still missed the one person everyone else in Oz was glad to see dead. Glinda the Good did not mourn the Wicked Witch of the West, it was just not right.

But then again, she wasn't Glinda the Good. Not really. Elphaba had seen it, all those years ago, and Glinda herself had always known it. She wasn't even Glinda the Glorious. Elphaba had always been a better person than she was; she had truly been set on 'making good', as she called it. Glinda would dub herself the Wicked one, but all of Oz would mourn her if she passed away. And no one mourned the Wicked.

Twisted, then. Twisted was what this whole situation was. Twisted was what she was. Twisted enough to sacrifice even the most wonderful person in her life for the sake of her own status. Twisted enough to be unable to stop caring about said person. Twisted enough to think of this as a problem. The Twisted Glinda of Oz, that was who she truly was.

But no one in Oz would follow her if she made that title reality. Mainly because no one in Oz would follow truth. They had been following the smoke and mirrors for so long, hiding in their own perfect little worlds, it would almost be cruel to burst their bubbles. So Glinda left it the way it was. She had been living her own lie for so long, sometimes she almost believed it.

But then she'd see something green, or she'd watch the rain fall, or this time of year would roll around, and she'd remember. She'd remember how she had risen as high as she had, and the price she had paid for it. And as she walked away, back to her own glamorous life, she knew she would always carry that piece of truth with her. In the end, she had been changed for good, caring about the green woman as much as she had. She just hadn't been changed for the better…

A/N: Stumbled upon the '5 Reasons The Greatest Movie Villain Ever is a 'Good' Witch' article. Add that to long discussions reating to Gelphie and a 'Twisted Glinda' and this is what my procrastinating mind comes up with.