Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize and everything you do not.

Author's Note: So it's finally over… Thanks to everyone for there amazing compliments on this story. It started out as a simple idea I had on my paper route and developed into a full-blown 20-chapter story! Thanks to all of my faithful reviewers and the amazing Michelle and Kailee for listening to me while I ranted about what I needed to happen but couldn't figure out how and listening while I sat there and talked to myself for ten minutes trying to figure out this plot. So, an epilogue and one last review, and we're through here! :-D

by Fiyero Oberon


"And so," said Singra, finally coming to her conclusion, "Boq is President, for now, and then after his terms has expired, Oz will vote for the next President. That's how a democracy works."

"I still don't understand," says Elphaba. "But, then again, I guess I don't care. As long as it doesn't involve me too heavily and as long as the Animal persecutions have stopped, I don't care."

The weather had surprisingly cleared up only a few hours before the funeral had started, giving Elphaba and Milla just enough time to set everything up. It had been decided that Glinda's funeral would be held in Munchkinland, a private affair. Avaric is over there, his wife on his arm even as he flirts shamelessly with a young woman Glinda had gone to nursery school with. Milla sits in a corner with Frexspar and Nanny, looking tired and ready to move on. Boq is avoiding his wife, instead taking turns leading his young children through the gardens of the funeral home. Shenshen and Pfannee are over there, all black taffeta gowns and white silk gloves and veils, their hands twisted together and their eyes red and puffy.

An odd silence has fallen over the funeral, except for the quiet laughing of Boq and Milla's children. Avaric has made his way over to the casket where Glinda lays, though he doesn't seem to look at her long before he is facing and flirting with the young woman again.

"Elphaba," says Singra at last, "you realize we are not sisters, right?"


Singra sighs. "Well, that day, on the Yellow Brick Road… I said something about us being half-sisters all the time, and not realizing it… well… we're not… Turtle Heart is my father and my mother's name is Perla… you're mother is Melena and, well, apparently the Wizard was your father… So we are not related at all. Nessarose is my half-sister, but... not you."

"Oh. Right." Elphaba finds that she can hardly react to this information. She feels so emotionally unattached from losing Glinda that realizing that she and Singra are not half-sisters seems immensely insignificant.

This is the same funeral home and church that was used for Nessarose's memorial service and the same pool sits there in the ground, floating twenty-some candles – Elphaba has not bothered to count them. She feels numb, horribly numb and is glad she has already made her decision to pass the Eminency to Singra.

"I'm not a Thropp," Singra had said.

"You're close enough," Elphaba had said firmly. "Besides, as Munchkinland is a free state now it's hardly called Eminent Thropp, is it?"

Now Elphaba watches as Boq finally attempts to approach Milla. She stands and they talk for a moment – Elphaba could listen in if she tried hard enough, but she realizes she does not care enough and watches instead as Milla shakes her head, stepping backwards, away from Boq. She calls for her children and leaves suddenly, without another word to her husband. Sulking, Boq sits with Frex and Nanny, who is still babbling, and his gaze does not move from Glinda's casket.

"Elphaba," says Singra. "You need to go say good-bye."

And Elphaba realizes Singra is right. She stands, straightening her skirt, and then her cape, and then walks evenly toward Glinda's body in the coffin – she trips only once.

Glinda's body is so foreign to her without the enormous gown. She has been dressed in a single frock, no make up, no glamour, just the ceremonial blanket wrapped around her body – however, even this blanket isn't as fanciful in embroidery as Nessarose's was. This coverlet is plain, pure white and someone – Boq, perhaps? – has laid a fading pink rose on the blanket. Her pale curls were spread out on the pillow, just as Glinda would have wanted them, their shine gone. Tears roll down Elphaba's thin, viridian cheeks and though they do not sting, she wipes them away anyway.


Elphaba whirls around as a small Munchkin woman comes running into the private gardens.


Elphaba rushes around the pool toward the woman, even as a dozen others do so as well. The woman is in tears, fear lining every wrinkle in her face and glowing fiercely from her wide eyes. "I was just – just standing there," says the woman, her speech interrupted with hiccoughs, "we – we all were, just standing there and then just this house comes fall – falling from the sky."

"When?" demands Elphaba.

"Two – two hours ago," says the woman. "When the winds stopped – they were worse – worse than ever and several of us had come out of our homes to see the cyclone that had formed and – and it was raging toward us and next thing a wooden house is falling in the middle of Center Munch and – and we scattered and the winds stopped and they sent me here, some of them said there – there would be people here who could help. And – and we think there's someone inside the house, and there's definitely a dog in the house with the someone because we could hear it barking."

Elphaba makes eye contact with Boq, who nods and she moves quickly toward the woman. "I'll go back with you," she says. "Come on, let's go."

Elphaba and the woman hurry out of the funeral, heading up the Yellow Brick Road toward Center Munch. Elphaba pushes thoughts of Glinda from her mind, holds her head up high, and moves bravely onward toward the next dangerous venture.

One last review please? Thanks, everyone!